A/N: For those of you just tuning in now, let me just repeat that I know my story is now classified as AU. The reason is because I started it before the sixth book was published and decided that I'm a little too fond of this story to discontinue it. (Plus, in all fairness, I was honestly trying to do what the books did to her; Jude just beat me to it.)
On a second, apologetic note, I'm sorry this took so long! Actually, I had the first draft done by Boxing Day, but was thoroughly repulsed by it. So I had to scrap almost the entire thing and rewrite each section two or three times before I could stand to look at it. On the plus side, it's crazy long. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I can at least read it without cringing and rapidly pressing the backspace bar. Hope you can too...
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Chapter 11
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"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What happened?"
"You realize you were there for that too, right? Very well, I'll ramble pointlessly for a little longer. You were all staring at me, expecting me to decide something important when I would rather have just refused to do so. Not that I'm an outright coward, mind you. I was just having difficulty grasping just why I would want to convince my mother to disown me --hence plunging headlong into almost certain death--without some sort of personal incentive to do it (aside from keeping our plans on track). Which brings us to my motivations--"
"That's plural?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. First, I wanted my father to fail and fail miserably. I wanted him humiliated, left destitute and thrown out of the council for what he'd done. Disowning me was a shrewd move—and I could respect his cunning— but firing at me and threatening to hurt Amy was not something I was prepared to forgive. I wanted revenge. But, of course, I also wanted Amy."
"At least you're consistent..."
"Err... Sort of. I was in a weird place with her. On the one hand, I knew I'd blown it and that she only wanted to be friends--a fact that irked me to no end, but something I thought I was willing to put up with so long as it kept a tiny window of opportunity open for something more. No, I wasn't mature enough to want her to be happy even if it wasn't with me—and anyone who can either isn't right in the head or just doesn't care enough—but I did want her to be safe. In fact, the thought of her getting hurt made me want to punch something. Which was on schedule to happen if I didn't do something to correct it."
"So that's why you... oh."
"Yes. It's why I asked to speak with you privately. Standing up, I told Amy and Dan that I'd announce my decision in the morning and made a move to follow you to the dining room to talk. Dan rolled his eyes at me and muttered something about being dramatic, but Amy regarded me with fearful suspicion. I tried to avoid her eyes, somewhat paranoid that she would divine the truth. Because I wasn't planning on announcing anything. I wasn't planning on saying goodbye."
"I still think you ought to have explained your decision to—"
"What? And admit to what we'd both done? She'd just put me back into the category of 'friend' the last thing I needed was to be the 'traitor' again. It's not a fun role, Irina."
"I don't know if what we did was treachery..."
"Right! Leaving the finer points of Lucian law out of our contract. That's not dishonest. I'll have the decency to admit, when we drafted it, I wanted to leave room to dispose of Amy and Dan when the time came. They were other shareholders in this enormous potential to profit; when they ceased to have value to me, I wanted them gone. And don't you deny it because I know you were thinking the same thing the night we signed it."
"...I simply didn't consider that they would need Lucian protection."
"Bullocks! You're saying it didn't occur to you that my father would want revenge against the conspirators who turned his son against him? You're not fooling anybody. My additions made sure that Amy would have the council's sworn protection, almost equivalent to member status. You'd have to sign a contract stating that, once you took power, you would inform my father that if anything ever happened to her—accident or otherwise—you'd exile him. And I warned you that I'd dig in my heels and refuse to sign the adoption papers or go through with anything unless you made my amendments."
"Hmm... now I see. You chose Amy over your revenge."
"What?"
"You wanted Vikram exiled, but instead, you allow him to keep his status so long as he didn't harm her. You chose Amy."
"...It was the smarter move, giving him something to live for. Besides, there were other ways I could have him humiliated—just because they weren't ironic ways didn't mean they wouldn't be gratifying."
"You still chose Amy."
"Fine, yes, if you want to be poetic about it. Not that she saw it that way, mind you."
"Oh? You saw her before you left then?"
"Amy was waiting for me alone in the hall outside the dining room. She glanced up anxiously after I emerged from initialling the adoption papers and forcing you to sign my hastily-made contract written on the torn pages of a novel. It felt weird, to be honest. Not that the document was legal while I still belonged to Vikram and my mother, but it didn't mean nothing to me. I was... someone else now. If I wanted to be. And the thought wasn't sitting well. I suppose the unsettled look on my face sort of gave away what I'd done because she guessed the truth before I'd even spoken a word. Her eyes went wide and she stood abruptly."
"'You didn't...N-No, Ian...! Tell me y-you didn't...!'
"She shook her head, trying to will it not to have happened as that heartbroken look crossed her face. It made me feel wretched inside to see it. I was the bad guy to her once again. The unforgiveable ass that had made her already-difficult life just that much more painful. For the third time (or was it the fourth?) Sure, it was a small consolation that my intentions were somewhat honourable. But it didn't make it any easier to do."
"That poor girl..."
"I looked away, trying to get myself together before I lost it and did something stupid. Again. I had to remind myself that this was necessary to protect her. To protect other people too, of course, although they were less important. I couldn't lose sight of that just because she didn't want me to get hurt. Bracing myself, I said with all the flippancy in the world that I'd been in the market for a new family; my old one was starting to rot. She glowered at me, too stunned and upset by my attitude to organize her thoughts so quickly. I took the opportunity to brush past her as I made my way to the elevator."
"What? You just left her there?"
"I said her tongue wasn't working, not her legs. No, Amy followed me, and with her came that angry, judging glare. I knew I was about to pay for what I'd said. It was probably the rudest, most insensitive thing to ever come out of my mouth, which is saying something. But sometimes, you just have to be cruel to be kind."
"Please tell me she didn't let you get away with it that easily!"
"Amy? Come on, do you know her? Of course she didn't! She started in on me the moment the elevator doors closed behind us. She called me a moron, a liar, a coward and told me I was just abandoning them once again, running away because I was afraid. Her face had gone red and there were tears in her eyes that she kept blinking away. I kept silent, letting her speak and trying hard to ignore the niggling part of me that wanted to cave and stay with her. But sanity prevailed. Eventually, the elevator doors slid open at my floor and I made a move to get out. Amy, however, was quick to block my path, placing herself between me and the exit."
"What did she say?"
"She asked me what the real reason was. Why was I doing this when there were ways around it? I ignored her and told her to move, but she stubbornly refused to until I'd given her an answer. Fed up with this entire thing, I snapped and told her she ought to be happy that I was leaving. It was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? Hadn't she told me to get out? Hadn't she been the one to push me away? And now, after all that had happened in Detroit, had she really thought it would be possible for us to work together again? I might as well do something productive on my own."
"But..."
"I pushed past her, trying not to notice the hurt look on her face or feel the heavy pain in my chest. I didn't need this. I didn't need doubts and I didn't need regret. It was the right thing to do! It shouldn't have been so hard. Amy stared after me for a few moments before she chased me down and grabbed me by the arm and jumped in my way once more. I could feel her grip shaking as she tried to physically restrain me. She was stuttering so terribly by then that I had trouble understanding her:
"'You kn-know that w-w-wasn't what I m-meant! I-I... n-not now, I...I...'
"It was strange. Amy had that look on her face again, like there was something she was just dying to get out, but couldn't get up the nerve. She looked just so flustered, upset and hurt that I almost couldn't meet her eyes. I think she must really have believed that my decision to leave had been her fault. Which was too bad, but really, what was I supposed to do?"
"How about the truth? Hmm? Did you even consider that?"
"No, because I'm not a drooling imbecile. At least this way she was under the mistaken impression that I was being noble and self-sacrificing. If I'd told her that I'd been out to screw them over from the beginning, she'd never trust me again. Not that she did anyway, mind you, but...—Oh shut it! At least this way I didn't have to bloody well apologize!"
"Huh... It's suddenly clear to me why I never married... Men are all idiots..."
"No, they're not. Women just have obscenely high expectations set by unrealistic, two-dimensional characters pulled straight from all that harlequin shi—"
"Oh enough! No one cares about your opinions! Just get to the damn story."
"Fine. It'd be useless and creepy to debate that with you anyway... Right, now where was I? Oh yes, that whole miserable conversation. Simply put, I asked her why it even mattered to her what I did. This was going to make her plan work; that was what she should be simpering about, not my fate."
"..."
"What? What's that look for?"
"Modesty really doesn't become you. I think you were just fishing for affection."
"...Perhaps a little. Maybe I did want to hear that she really cared about me, or at the very least didn't want me riddled with bullets and thrown in the Thames because that would make it considerably more difficult us to date. Something, anyway. Which was apparently too much to hope for. She glared at me, with what she thought was probably a menacing scowl but in all reality looked disarmingly cute, and insisted that I was her friend and that she didn't want me to see me get hurt. It was nauseatingly fluffy and so deeply cemented into the category of 'things I did not want to hear' that it left me rankled. Friends. The word had a dirty, hateful sound to it as it rang in my head. Because it hit me then, looking into her eyes, that that was all we would ever be. She'd never forgive me for all of my misdeeds or trust me again; not in any way that truly counted. Even if we were 'friends' after this (provided that we lived that long), I would always be the creep who left her for dead in a bat cave. And she would always be holding back. The most pathetic part was that I should have recognized it the night I left Detroit, when she absolutely refused to believe that I loved her. And still, I'd continued to entertain those fanciful notions of a future that would never happen, holding her hand as she cried and laying the brickwork for a friendship that I thought could be more. But now, faced with the ugly truth, I found myself feeling foolish, frustrated and utterly alone."
"I don't think you give her enough credit."
"Really? Thanks for the insight. You are a marvel..."
"Hmph...! I see why she hesitated though. You were saying?"
"Yes. Between my self-pity and despair, and watching the world crashing down around me, I chose the petty route. Scrunching up my face in disgust, I told her to piss off. I didn't want to be her friend. Something she might have picked up on if she'd had half a—ow! What the--?! Don't kick me!"
"Need I remind you that you're supposed to be in love with her!"
"Yes, the part of her with a brain! Not the annoying, naïve little ten-year-old part of her that refused to acknowledge her own feelings in absolute terror that they might actually be reciprocated. Okay, yes, it was a little more complicated, what with trust issues and all that, and I already admitted that I was acting a bit immature. But only a little bit. She was still mostly in the wrong there."
"You didn't give her a chance!"
"What are you talking about? I gave her the perfect chance to tell me she liked me! She was just too scared to go through with it. I remember her face falling as I closed the door on her. The quiet and stillness of the room was unnerving considering how shaken I felt inside. I sighed to myself, leaning my head back against the door, staving off the immediate doubts that began to attack. Was I just fooling myself again thinking that I wouldn't come right back for her? If we pulled this off, would I really be able to stay away, or was inevitable that I'd give in to a life of pining for her? I liked to think I had more dignity than that, but when it came to Amy... I just didn't know anymore. There wasn't a lot that I wouldn't do for her. But I had to think of myself; when it came down to it, not being in her life was better than pretending to be her friend as she moved on. Anything was better than doing that again, I told myself sternly. With that thought, I snatched the phone off the desk and started booking a flight to Paris for the council the next morning. It was time to grow up and move on."
"Wait! But... how did it happen then?"
"How did what happen?"
"You and Amy! The story you've been telling all this time! How did you get together then if you left that morning?"
"Oh that. Yes, I'm getting there... That night, I won't go into because it wasn't of much interest. I think I slept well, but bugger if I can really remember. I know I was wide awake by four am, feeling like I was rotting from the inside. It was impossible not to. I'd told the one person in my life who actually gave a damn about me (and no, my mum didn't count) to screw off and hadn't looked back. All the clever, noble reasons that had sounded so wonderful in my head four hours ago were beginning to fall flat to me, replaced by a growing desire to bury my head beneath a pillow and forget about the whole thing."
"I wish I could say I'm surprised by that."
"—I didn't, thank you very much! I went through with the bleeding plan. At 4:30 I left, fed up with my traitorous thoughts and reasoning that I had to buy a suitable pair of shoes for the council. It felt strange to have no possessions to carry as I abandoned my room, letting the door slam behind me. I half expected Amy to be sitting outside, legs curled beneath her and waiting for me, but she wasn't. The corridor was empty. I briefly contemplated going to her room to see her one last time, but that could only have proved to be an unmitigated disaster. So, I didn't."
"When did you see her then?"
"It was on my way out as I was passing through the lobby. There was a solitary taxi was waiting out front for me, the driver leaning against it smoking a cigarette. The sky was still dark, but the rain had eased up to a light drizzle. I paused as I passed the reception desk, eyeing the lone figure seated by the window. Another day, I might have missed her, but I suppose that that morning something overly sentimental in me still believed that Amy would never let me leave without saying goodbye. And this time, I wasn't disappointed..."
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There she was, knees pulled up on the lobby couch by the front window, staring out at the rain as it rippled down the side of the building casting moving shadows over her slender form. Her hair was a bit of a mess, like someone had combed it with a rosebush and there were deep bags beneath her eyes as though she hadn't slept at all, but all the same, I couldn't help staring at her. Even at her worst, she was stunning... Why was I doing this again?, I asked myself as she glanced up briefly and caught sight of me.
Her eyes locked on mine and all of the whimsy and sorrow hardened in anger.
"What are you doing up?" I asked her, careful to keep my tone distant. Now wasn't the time to ruin my plans with emotion.
"I-I wanted to say that -that...you..." Amy stuttered. She looked like she would crumple and sink back into meekness at first, but then she found her confidence and really let me have it, "You... y-you're unbelievable!"
I raised an eyebrow, "What? For not wanting to be your friend? Or for leaving?"
"Both! How c-could you do that?!" she cried at me semi-hysterically, utterly unconcerned with who might hear us. With a scowl on her face, she jumped up from the couch, "After ev-everything we've... you j-just want t-to end it like this?"
"End what, exactly?" I said flatly, regarding her with cold eyes.
Her mouth hung open in outrage, on the verge of letting something slip, but then eventually caught my meaning and closed it. Something guilt-ridden flashed behind her expression and a shallow blush sprouted on her cheeks. She looked embarrassed although, to her credit, her spirit never waned: "Just... o-our friendship. I-I thought that actually meant something to you. I thought at least that was r-real."
"Ah! Now, you see, there's the problem." I told her condescendingly, feeling the icy prickle of injustice blooming in my stomach, "You'll never trust a thing I say. So, why—?"
"That's not true!" Amy cut me off sharply. She seemed frustrated with me, as though I were the one being dense here, refusing to see what was beyond obvious to her, "I t-trust you now! And I've always wanted to! I was just afraid to... Th-then I heard what you said to N-Natalie and—"
"What?" I asked, caught of guard by the mention of my sister, "...What did I say to Natalie?"
This question was met with silence. Almost instantly, she seemed to flush a much darker shade of red and began to stare at her feet. Perplexed, my mind raced, trying to recall just what I had said that she might have overheard. It was hard to remember; although it was only a few hours ago, it felt like months had passed. I recalled being rude to her and having a biscuit thrown at my head, but other than that...
"Y-You don't remember, then?" she asked quietly, sounding a little dismayed. "That's fine; i-it wasn't all that important. I-It just... it made me realize that..."
"What? What did I say?" I asked starting to grow irritated by all of this. I was frustrated that I couldn't remember what was so bloody important that she'd bothered to remember it and even more so that she wouldn't tell me what it was! Thoughtlessly, I took a step towards her, which proved to be a mistake when she promptly tensed up, hunching her shoulders uncomfortably and going as stiff as a board.
"That's... just n-never mind," she trailed off shaking her head vigorously, her posture screaming at me to leave it alone. Nonetheless, when she looked back next, she seemed to relax and soften a little, looking for answers instead of blaming me. With a frazzled little sigh, she said: "Look, I-I just... I want to know what's going on! One minute you're telling me th-that you wouldn't trade my friendship f-for anything and th-the next, you...you..."
I felt my own face begin to redden a little for that. I supposed I was being a little inconsistent. Maybe I did have it all wrong; maybe there was a chance for a real us if I stuck around and played at being friends. But even in that moment, as I studied her face, all I could see was that smothering kindness and once again felt the nagging reality that this was going nowhere.
"Right...," I hesitated, trying hard to drum up a convincing lie that would explain it, but nothing came to me. I know I could have just insulted her or said something else cruel and befitting of my usual persona, but for whatever reason I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not to Amy. Under her sad, searching gaze, I could feel myself cracking. In defeat, I glanced away, opting for as close to the truth as I could give her, "I had a change of heart on that. But my leaving is for your benefit, believe me."
"For my benefit?" she repeated slowly. Her eyes narrowed and I suddenly realized that that had been the wrong answer. She was back to glaring at me again as she rounded the coffee table to stand before me in all her rage, "Just like running away in Detroit was? Tell me, Ian, did you even consider what I wanted then? Did you consider Dan's opinion? Irina's?"
"You told me to get out!"
"Because I was mad; not because I wanted you to get yourself k-killed!"
I clenched my jaw and said through gritted teeth; "I didn't intend to then and I don't intend to now. Not that it's any of your bloody business what I do, so long as it doesn't affect the contract."
"This has nothing to do with the contract! You're my friend and—!"
"No, I'm not!" I cried, glowering at her for being so bloody insistent and thick-headed. She flinched at the level of my voice, but I didn't back down from my position, "Get that out of your head! It's not going to work!"
"Why not?" she challenged me stepping forwards again, a mixture of defiance and frustration etched plainly on her face. It stung me harder than I'd have thought to see her in pain, not knowing why one of the few people she had left wanted out of her life. She was a foot from me when she stopped and crossed her arms over her chest as though expecting an answer, "Wh-What is so impossible about that?"
"Because...-!" I began, then realize that I was shouting for all the world to hear. And indeed, some of the world appeared to be listening, judging by the pairs of eyes that were watching us from the receptionist's desk. With a withering glare that made the two of them look away, I checked myself. Telling her the truth wouldn't make this any better; what was the point in addressing it, "Never mind. Look, it's my decision. And if you have any sense left, you'll respect it."
I meant that to bring an end to this rather uncomfortable situation, but Amy simply wasn't content to let it go.
"Th-that's..." she hesitated, as though unsure of where to start with correcting what I'd said, then abruptly shook her head, "That's crap! You don't do that to your friends! If you want me to respect your d-decision, fine! I will! But at least give me your respect! Give me an explanation!"
I stared at her, stunned into silence. I was angry, mind you, but I could see the logic in it and it was oddly disarming. Trust Amy to come up with something like that. I sighed, realizing that she was right. Maybe I did owe her that much; she had saved my life after all. But she wanted the truth, something I was not terribly well versed in telling...
"Fine..." I bit out, "You want to know why we can't be friends?"
"Yes! I do!"
"I'm in love with you!" I told her honestly, watching as, once again, she blushed deeply and glanced away, "See? You still don't believe it, and even if you do, you don't trust me enough to make something of it-- and fine! I've given you plenty of reason to think that... Doesn't change how I feel though and it doesn't change the fact that you clearly don't feel the same way. I've just finally realized that."
Amy opened her mouth, but when no sound issued forth, she quickly closed it, her face as red and bright as I'd ever seen it. Saying she looked uncomfortable would have been vastly understating it; terrified maybe. Her eyes avoided mine for such a long time afterwards that I almost wasn't even sure she was listening to me at all. Probably lost to the world, thinking back to that kiss I'd stolen from her earlier and realizing that I might actually not be full of it. When she was silent in response, I figured she might be beginning to understand.
"I'm not used to being denied what I want. I either take it or I find something better." I told her calmly, watching as her expression twisted into an argumentative look. I was quick to cut her off, "Now, you may have your moral qualms about that, but it works for me and I'm not changing it."
She was quiet, still too embarrassed by what I'd said earlier or too disgusted to talk, but managed a slow nod in response. I had a feeling she didn't quite agree with me, but vocalizing that thought wasn't something she was capable of right then.
"All of that to say that this can't end well." I told her resignedly, "Either I stick around, constantly trying to get something out of you and making both our lives miserable in the process, or I leave now and go find someone new to be with. I'm pretty sure about which one you'd prefer."
Amy stared at me as though she finally understood where I was coming from. It seemed a bit strange to me; I'd have thought that she'd have been angry again and start accusing me of speaking for her, but instead, she just looked... empty. Her lips parted, but once more words failed her. Another day, I'd have probably taken the opportunity to get close to her and comfort her. It left me with a hollow feeling knowing that that was all over. This was something Amy would need to deal with on her own. Her eyes slid closed as I strode past her and I almost missed the hand that rose to cover her mouth as I kept walking.
"Maybe I'll see you once the trial's over," I called out as the automatic doors slid open before me.
As I trudged out into the rain, I wondered--as it seemed I always did now--if I'd been in the right this time. I smiled to myself wryly, recognizing Amy's moral-compass influence. Months ago, I never would have questioned my own judgment, never would have considered what was 'right' or anyone else's opinion for that matter. It scared me to think that I was on my own now, but at the same time, a burden had been lifted. Amy knew. She knew exactly how I felt and, if I'd done my job, she probably knew I was being sincere.
But still, some things could never be undone...
"Train station," I told the man waiting out front of the taxi. He took one last puff on the cigarette, eyeing the now-sopping-wet slippers on my feet before dropping the butt to the pavement and circling around the car to the driver's seat without so much as a grunt. The rain was a soft mist that quickly soaked my face and the thin cotton shirt I had on as I stared out into the night. Odd as it seemed, my thoughts turned to my father. Somewhere out there, he was probably resting up for this afternoon or maybe fastidiously preparing his speech so as not to omit a single incriminating event that could lead to my banishment from the council. The thought made me smile. His life was simple, uncomplicated by emotion and attachments, and appealing as that felt right then, I realized that I probably wouldn't trade what I had now. At least I knew I was alive.
"You idiot!" I heard her cry before I could even turn around.
"That's a new one—" I almost got out before she grabbed my arm, spun me around and shoved me against the car. I grunted as my elbow connected awkwardly against the glass and glared at the offending hand still holding me against it. It wasn't that she had a firm grip really; more that she'd caught me off guard. I glanced up to find that Amy was alarmingly close to me, looking as furious as hell unleashed.
"Y-You...!" she stuttered, shaking badly as she glared at me, "... Y-You're wrong!"
"About what?" I asked raising an eyebrow, feeling more than a little impatient myself. I knew she was angry with me and in pain over wanting to internalize everyone's guilt, but really! We'd already beaten this topic to death with a crowbar. There wasn't anything she could have left to say. "Would you rather I hung around you pissing and moaning over this unrequited love rubbish? Sorry, but that's not my style. And it shouldn't be yours either. So would you stop making it harder for yourself and just let it go!"
Amy was silent in reply, staring at me with a strange, determined look in her eye as the rain poured down on us. The hand that held me against the car dropped back to her side, which I took as confirmation that she'd realized I was right. After a long, tense pause wherein she said nothing, I sighed huffily.
"Right then," I said shrugging my now-free arm, "Run al—"
"Sh-Shut up," she whispered a moment before she kissed me.
It lasted only a couple seconds; the rough, inexperienced brush of her lips moving hesitantly against mine. I don't know how long it was before she slowly and deliberately broke away; I think I'd been too stunned by it to respond or even register what was happening until it was over. It didn't feel real, like I was somewhere else watching what I'd wanted for so long happening. Her tearful eyes shone in the light from the streetlamps as she searched my face nervously. I could feel her shaking against me, her breathing growing ragged with fear and her cheeks bright. But even through her shyness, there was an undeniable happiness there. And when she spoke, I noticed that she kept biting her lip to hide her smile.
"I-I don't... I don't l-love you..." she stammered, speaking to the pavement beneath us out of anxiety.
I froze, confused, disappointed, and feeling like I'd just been smacked in the gut. I was about to ask just what the hell that had been about when she looked up abruptly and cut me off once again.
"I-I... really l-like you though," Amy said, blushing brighter. Intense fear and self-doubt still flickered behind her eyes, as though she were still afraid that I was about to reject her, or say something cripplingly rude that would wreck everything.
I just nodded mutely, feeling my heart begin to come back to life, as though it had just realized that this was actually happening. I just stared at her, hardly daring to believe it. She was an utter mess, her eyes red and puffy from crying and the shoulders of her shirt soaked once again, but she was there and she was real. This was actually happening. Amy smiled self-consciously, tucking her hair behind her ears.
"Wh-What....? S-Say something!"
I smiled back at her, "About bloody time."
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A/N: Yay! An entire chapter devoted to IanxAmy! I'm sure many of you probably think she was OOC to do that, but I wanted to write the impossible (and avoid becoming repetitive) and if I've even made you half-believe that it could happen, then I'm pleased with that. So please review! Tell me your thoughts! I'd love to hear them.
