Weather Girl

Summary: Senka Poe has been in love with Warren Peace for...well, forever. As a senior, a series of changes cause her to reconsider pretty much her entire life and nothing is like she thought it would be. Especially with Warren. WarrenOC eventual, LashOC

Disclaimer: I pretty much claim nothing.

Just a note: I haven't stolen this story from Moontrimmer. It's an old pen name of mine, and when I finally started re-writing this, I realized I had no idea what email I was using two or so years ago.

Project REVAMP/REWRITE: I was working on my magical yearly update and decided to go back and read through the story so far. Then for the next 12 hours I went through and proceeded to revamp every single chapter, and some were almost completely rewritten. Enjoy.

THIS CHAPTER GOT REVAMPED ON AUGUST 5th, 2012.

it seems like every time i try to make it right it all comes down on me

My father mysteriously appeared out of nowhere wanting to make amends, my boyfriend and I got into a fight and were currently ignoring one another, and I had kissed one of my good friends, only to find out my father left my family to be a father figure to him.

Needless to say, my life was officially a mess.

That next few weeks had to be, hands down, some of the worst ones of my life. I felt like I was in such a fog; I was mad at Warren for opening his big fat mouth and confused about how to deal with my father's role in his life as well as his burgeoning one in mine. It hadn't begun as intentional, but I stopped hanging out with that group so often. Lash and I were, well, I didn't know what we were actually, but we didn't know how to act around each other and so we didn't see each other much. At home, my brothers still felt bitter about the way I'd seemingly forgiven our father and my mother still looked like someone sucked the life right out of her. Strangely enough, the only constant was the one thing my life had been always been missing: my dad.

He called me every Wednesday and took me out to dinner every Friday night. We hadn't been back to his apartment, which was alright. He talked to me about lots of different things; deep topics like my experience was growing up to more recent, easy topics: what was my favorite class at the moment? Which teacher wanted to kill me the most? With my world falling down around me I clung to him like a lifeline.

"You really shouldn't take your frustrations with me out on Warren," he said, one night during a phone conversation.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, suddenly agitated.

"It's not his fault I took care of him after I left, Senka, so don't blame him for that," my father explained with a sigh.

"If Warren's been mopey, you can tell him that's not why I'm upset with him," I replied and promptly hung up. Within several seconds, my phone vibrated again "What?"

"That was rude of you," he admonished, clucking his tongue.

"Well I think it's rude of you to complain for Warren when we're supposed to be having a phone conversation," I returned. "I don't call you to hear about Warren."

"I just wanted to make sure you aren't angry at him for the wrong reasons,"

"Well, I'm not angry with him because of you, just confused on that front It's just...there are some things you don't know about Warren and I, and on top of that, he's acting like an annoying older brother hounding me about Lash all the time."

"What does he say about Lash?"

"As though he hasn't complained to you about it, I'm sure," I scoffed. "He's so convinced that he's right, I'm wrong, and Lash is the villain. He doesn't respect that I can make my own relationship decisions. It's driving me crazy because I don't even know what's going on between my boyfriend and I right now but neither does Warren!"

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, and I could almost picture his head tilting to the side in the way I'd discovered he liked to ask questions.

"We had an argument that day Warren dropped me at the house," I explained. "Things were said and done that shouldn't have…both of us are guilty of hurting each other. I'm giving him time to work through his problems, but it's been like two weeks or something. I hate that we have to dance around each other in the hallway but I don't know what else to do."

"Let me give you some fatherly advice," he began. "If you care about him, go see him. Trust me on this one, Senka."

"Since when are dads supposed to give out dating advice to their daughters that isn't 'don't date until you're thirty?'" I asked, laughing, but considered his advice seriously all the same.

"Senka, I think we both know that by choice I lost my right to be that kind of father. And as someone who knows failed relationships from personal experience, I would prefer to help you make good decisions to keep you from repeating my mistakes," he replied.

"Oh...well thanks," I said. "I think I'll take your advice. Talk to you later - bye."

With a click, our phone call ended but I had another one to make. I had to go through with his advice before I chickened out. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the familiar phone number and waited, nervous, for someone to pick up.

"…Senka?" asked the voice on the other end; Lash.

"Hi…!" I exclaimed, feeling pathetic. "I...I want to see you. Do you want to meet me somewhere? The coffee shop on Main, maybe?"

"Oh, uhm, yeah...be there in twenty," he said, awkward, and then hung up.

After I hung, I realized I was still in my pajamas. In a haste, I threw on the last of my clean clothes, which meant a skirt. That didn't say desperate to have you back pleassseee, did it? I hoped it didn't. I glanced at my watch and dashed out of the house, thankful it was dark so I didn't have to drive. I reached the coffee shop right on time, and Lash's truck was already out front and I spotted him sitting outside. I gulped, but shoved my nervousness back down into my stomach, and approached him. Lash was visibly surprised by my eagerness.

"So, uh, what do you want to talk about?" he asked, his grip on his mug so tight I waited for it to break.

"No coffee for me?" I teased, nervous.

"You're the one who asked me here," he pointed out. "So say what you came here to say."

His reaction didn't bode well in my mind. I thought he wanted me to disappear, but I couldn't. Whether I liked it or not, though, I felt he was right– I needed to say what I went there for. I took the seat beside him, not across from him, and hoped he didn't mind the way our knees touched. A glance at his hands showed his grip on the cup had tightened.

"I hate this," I said, and everything started rushing out of me. "I hate this terribly awkward and painful whatever it is that's between us now. I wanted to give you time but I am so tired of giving it to you. I'm sorry if you're not ready but I hate the space it's caused between us."

Lash let out a long, relieved breath, and his grip visibly loosened before he responded. I took it as a good sign and prayed for the best. I could understand if he hated me for bringing out a monster in him, even if only for a second. He regretted what happened, I knew it even in the nanosecond after he hit me. Our argument had spiraled out of control (No, I corrected. I started to spiral out of control and he wasn't strong enough to not go down with me.)

"I never wanted space," he told me and then reached over to grasp my hand. "I just wanted you."

"You told me to get out. I thought you never wanted me to come back," I said, so relieved at the skin-to-skin contact.

"Are you kidding? I was afraid I'd hurt you again," he explained, looking away from me. "I hit you, Senka…hit you. I won't ever forgive myself for it. You shouldn't be with me."

"What? Lash—" I choked out, leaning closer to him. Suddenly I feared things were taking a turn for the worse. That was not going the way I had planned it in my head. I knew he made a mistake – when I crossed the line he lost control of his anger. But I was not afraid he would do it again. My mind flashed back to the way he practically threw himself to the other side of the room when he realized what he'd done.

"I had it all backwards that day about your dad. It wasn't him I should have been worried about. I should have known I'd be just like him… I won't let myself do to you what he did to her," he babbled, and it broke me. Despite the fact that we were sitting outside a coffee shop I took his face between my hands.

"You are not your father," I told him, my voice strong in a way I didn't know it could be. "I forgive you, Lash. Do you hear me? I forgive you and I trust you."

"How? How can you forgive me? How can you trust me after what I did?" he asked, desperate.

"I know everyone still thinks of you as this big, tough bully and criminal," I told him, and let go. "But they don't see you the way I do. They don't know how sorry you are, they don't see you right now. I trust you because I see how terrified you are. I trust that you won't let yourself become your father and I already know that you're not."

He kissed me then; he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me like he savored the whole experience. It was sort of sweet, but in a way that also had force behind it. Not the bad kind of force, just like there was something propping it up. I wanted to jump into his lap. I could have cried.

"There's something else I have to tell you," I said, reluctant, after he pulled away. "I really hate to ruin the moment, like a lot, but that night my dad showed up he followed me home from the Paper Lantern."

What am I doing? What am I saying? I wondered, but still unable to stop myself from confessing the kiss Warren and I shared. It felt wrong to let Lash kiss me that way, to look at me that way, when there was something important he didn't know.

"So?" he asked, eyes focused squarely on my lips.

"Let me finish," I sighed, chewing my cheek. "I was at the Paper Lantern because I went to talk to Warren. I told him I'd had a crush on him since forever and kissed him – so stupid I know – but I thought it would like get him out of my system or something. We ended up making out behind the restaurant, and that wasn't my intention at all, and then all that stuff happened with my dad and then with you and..."

"Senka," he interrupted, drawing back and suddenly focused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well would you rather I not?" I countered, confused. "It wouldn't be right to make up but keep something like that from you."

"Do you want to be with Warren?" he asked, serious as I'd ever seen him.

"Not that again," I complained, rolling my eyes. "I hadn't even really meant for it to happen, and it was like a month and a half ago or something. If I wanted to be with Warren this – right here, right now – would not be happening.".

"It's a yes or no question," Lash said, voice like steel.

"No," I said, simple, straight, and to the point. Definitely not, especially since right then I wanted to windmill kick Warren Peace square in his beautiful face.

With that, Lash leaned over and kissed me again, like I didn't think I've ever been kissed before. God, I'd missed him so much. Before I knew it, we were totally making out in public and the table between us was really jabbing me.

"Can we go somewhere more comfortable, please?" I asked, breathless, as soon as he let me pull away. Wordlessly, we found our way to his truck, and then his house. His father must have been out of the house and the place was cleaner than I'd ever seen. Had they hired a maid? For probably the first time ever, I wasn't afraid to sit on his couch, where we resumed our activities with fervor.

"Lash," I let out a moan when his mouth had hit a particularly sensitive spot on my neck. It seemed to egg him on, because he kept it up until I couldn't say much of anything anymore from exhaustion. We migrated to his room before that, though, and I silently thanked my father for some of the best parental advice I'd received in a while. Though I had a feeling the result wasn't what he'd been hoping for when he gave it to me… As we laid side by side on Lash's bed, my face comfortably buried in the crook of his neck, I knew we were alright.

fin chapter

title is an homage to roswell. brownie points if you can tell me whyyyy