It was the usual Wednesday at the coffee shop. The occasional flurry of customers came in for a drink, some college students would set up camp at one of the tables for the wi-fi…the usual, Gilbert thought. He'd never expected anything to change, this building had been in his family for over a hundred years and had never undergone renovations. Of course, every day was the same as the last, nothing new or exciting. Maybe the occasional relative, but that was all.

But that day, it all changed. Nothing in his life would ever be the same. After the morning coffee rush, and after a particularly grumpy lady who had given him quite the scolding for putting too much ice in her iced coffee of all things, he wasn't exactly a happy camper. He grumbled to himself as he scrubbed ferociously at the counter, even though it wasn't really in need of cleaning.

"Uh, hi," Said a soft voice, so soft it sounded almost angelic. Gilbert glanced up, and couldn't help it when his jaw dropped. In front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had a pale slender face, sprinkled with freckles. It reminded him of the cinnamon he often sprinkled into the whipped cream of peoples drinks.

He was speechless, breathless, and probably every other emotion in between. She was like a marvelous spirit, sent to help him during his current time of despairing repetitiveness. "Uh…hi," he finally managed to croak out. "May…I get you some coffee, ma'am? New customers get a mocha. On the house. It's been around for over two years? Policy." He mentally reprimanded himself. Get it together, Gil.

She smiled, and his heart fluttered. She had the most adorable dimples when she smiled. "That would be great, thanks. I'll also take a banana oatmeal muffin if you have it." She replied.

"Yeah!" He said, a bit too enthusiastically. "I mean, of course." He tried to recover.

"Great, thanks," she answered. "One mocha and a banana oatmeal muffin for Cordelia, please."

With that, she set off for the seat nearest the large windows overlooking Avonlea, plugging in her earbuds and grabbing a book from her backpack. Gilbert noticed that it was a classic, "Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman. It had been his and his father's favorite book. He gazed after her a moment, admiring the way her long red hair swished behind her as she walked. Cordelia…. He thought dreamily to himself. Alright Gil, you better not screw this order up.

He filled out the order he'd taken to heart, sneaking glances at her while he prepared her mocha and muffin. He loved the way she was so invested in the book, her concentration never breaking.

Before long, he found himself calling out, "A mocha and banana oatmeal muffin for a Cordelia?"

She glanced up from her book, and almost looked sorry to part with it for even a moment. She set the book open faced onto the table to preserve her page, and got up from her seat, approaching the counter where Gilbert stood, drink in hand, and muffin sitting in a plastic box on the counter in front of him. He fought back a smile as she took her order, and couldn't help it when his eyes wandered her face, studying each stunning bit of it. Her lips were the most pink and luscious he had ever seen… He wondered if they were truly as soft as they looked…. "Thanks." She said, taking the muffin from the counter, and reaching for the cup. Their fingers brushed for a half of a second, sending a spark of electricity to Gilbert's heart.

For a minute, his eyes locked on hers, and he could've sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Those shimmering blue eyes…he could spend all afternoon looking into them.

Their moment was interrupted when Bash came out of the back room loudly. "Ah, Blythe, you have no idea how many orders there are for lattes these days. For goodness sake, couldn't they get something else, we'll be going out of business one of these days."

Groaning internally, he shot Bash an angry glare, but ignored his complaint as he took the money the redhead was offering him. He gave her the receipt, and felt his heart sink a bit when she turned to return to her seat by the window.

"So. The redhead," Bash began, sipping his coffee. "What about her, what's got you so intrigued that you were staring into her eyes like a moke while the poor girl was trying to get her caffeine fix?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gilbert said stiffly, silently hoping that the warmth that was currently growing across his cheeks wouldn't catch Bash's keen eye. "I was just serving another customer."

"A customer?" Bash said. "A customer?!" he repeated, louder this time. "Blythe, go over there and tell her how you feel. Mary would be laughing at you right now, I swear."

Gilbert flinched visibly, and snuck a glance around the shop, wondering how many of the few people that were there had heard. It was safe to assume most of them had, except Cordelia miraculously, who was once again invested to her book, with earbuds in her ears, softly bobbing her head to the music. "How I feel?" Gilbert asked, still trying to get Bash to forget it. "I don't FEEL ANYTHING. Just let it go."

"Alright, alright," he replied, putting his hands up in defense. "And your face is betraying your words, I'll have you know."

Gilbert groaned, grabbing a rag, and scrubbing it on the counter. No. This was just a crush. This was nothing more. He didn't even know her, for goodness' sake. Yet, his eyes kept wandering over to that girl in the window seat.

A few more customers came and went, but he still couldn't manage to tear his eyes away. Bash shot him a few knowing smirks whenever he came out to grab something from the back room. When an order required something from the back, Gilbert brought a hand towel with him so that he could smack Bash across the chest with it going in, and coming out. Technically it wasn't professional, but he couldn't help himself.

For the remainder of the day, she sat in that window seat, continuing to read her book. She left when it was almost closing time, and Mrs. Rachel Lynde just happened in at that very moment. "Oh, Gilbert! It's been so long, how are you? How's Bash? I'll take a latte to go!"

Bash came out of the back, groaning. "Again with the lattes?!" His face lit up when he saw that it was Rachel. "Thank goodness, someone understands what I'm trying to do here! Mrs. Lynde, please talk Blythe here into actually communicating with the girl that just left the shop instead of glancing at her all day!"

"Oh, the redhead?" Rachel gestured to the door. "I just passed her not a few seconds ago. I know her, actually."

"Y-You do?" Gilbert breathed. He wasn't sure if he should be excited, or frightened. If he didn't work up the courage to speak to the girl soon, he knew Rachel would for him. That woman was known for her gossiping, and her matchmaking.

"Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Came home from college in the city last week. The Cuthberts are my neighbors, and she's their adoptive daughter."

Gilbert shook his head in amazement. The Cuthberts…they barely lived two miles away, yet how did he never know that they had an adoptive daughter? It was a small town.

Bash waggled his eyebrows gleefully, and grinned as Rachel continued. "She's a smart witty little thing. Quite imaginative too."

"Oh?" Gilbert said, packing up the last of the day's coffee and pretending not to notice. However, Bash and Rachel saw through his act. "And she's an eligible bachelorette, too," Rachel continued. "I have heard there were many suitors vying for her hand at Queens though…"

"T-There are?" He rushed out a bit too quickly. "I mean… I can uh, see why. She's quite pretty." Rachel hummed in agreement, and shared a look with Bash.

"Pretty?" Bash chuckled. "Please, you were looking like you'd probably just fall to your knees right then and there."

"I did not!" Gilbert cried defiantly. "At least I didn't compare her to a mango within ten seconds of meeting her!"

Bash's grin grew wider. "So you admit it! You're in love with her!"

"Gilbert is in love!" Rachel squealed gleefully. "I repeat, Gilbert is in love!"

Gilbert glared at the two of them, who were starting to dance around the shop. "Oh, can it, would you? For the last time-"

"Oh, you can make as many excuses as you want," Bash replied. "We still won't believe them, and no one will."

Gilbert opened his mouth, but then decided to close it, knowing that Bash was indeed right. He shifted uncomfortably, and watched as they continued to dance.

"So…fine, if you're right…how do I talk to her?"

"Took you moke long enough," Bash mumbled under his breath. "Well, I assume you don't want to go the mango route, although it was very successful may I add."

"Let me know when you two are getting married!" Rachel yelled, grabbing her latte and exiting the shop. "Goodnight!"

Bash enthusiastically called a farewell in return, while Gilbert blushed furiously. He scowled as Bash started dancing again; humming the wedding march. "Come on, Blythe! Join the party!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "If you want to see me get the nerves to actually talk to her, then stop dancing, would you?"

Bash froze, hands in midair as he slowly brought them down. A wicked grin came across his face. "You don't mean that, Blythe. If I stop dancing, and drive you over to the Cuthbert's place, you'll tell the girl how you feel?"

"All that way JUST to talk to her? You're out of your godforsaken mind, Sebastian," Gilbert shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know what goes on inside your head most days."

"Sure Blythe, anything to wiggle out of it… But I know that you are aware that the Cuthbert's live not two miles away from us. And you shouldn't talk, I don't understand one bit of what goes on in that moke brain of yours…" Bash sighed, with a shake of his head.

"It's about time to lock up, don't you think?" Gilbert asked stiffly.

"Sure…" Bash said suspiciously, handing the tips to Gilbert and throwing him the keys. "You'll lock up, won't you? I've got my three-year-old daughter at home with my mother, and I'm not sure how to react to that."

Still annoyed, Gilbert mumbled, "Yeah, yeah…" As he caught the keys, and shoved the tips into his back pocket.

Bash left, and Gilbert tried to focus on the task of locking up. Yet, a vision of red hair and shimmering blue eyes kept him from doing so. How was she even real? How could he talk to her? How…

With his current distraction, it was quite hard to complete the task at hand, but soon enough it was complete. As he put the broom away, and turned off the shop's lights, he still couldn't shake the image of beautiful freckles, and pink lips from his mind. Maybe she truly wasn't real, he wondered.

However, he wouldn't know unless he tried. The next day, surely she might come again. The chance was slim, but he held out hope.

Anne didn't return to the shop until that following Friday. Thursday, Gilbert spent the whole day moping around the place, and was forced to endure more of Bash's teasing. When he saw her come in that Friday, he nearly tripped over his own feet due to his eagerness to get to the counter as quickly as possible to take her order.

"A mocha and a banana oat muffin, please," she said straightaway, slapping her bills on the counter. "I'm feeling adventurous today…perhaps some croissants. Two for takeout, please, my parents adore them."

"Of course," Gilbert replied, trying his best to act professional even though his heart felt as if it was going to beat out of his chest.

"Great. Keep the change." She smiled and went over to the window seat, plugging in her earbuds and grabbing her book.

When he began to make her order, he could see Bash smirking out of the corner of his eye. From the kitchen, he mouthed the words, "Go. Talk. To. Her."

"You think I'm insane?" Gilbert tried mouthing, but he accidentally said it out at full volume. Some of the customers turned around, but most stayed in their seats. With a quick glance at the red-haired woman, he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized she was still reading.

Bash brought his hand to his forehead in exasperation before replying in a normal tone. "Yes, I do actually."

Gilbert scowled, and the tips of his ears turned pink as the customers slowly began to lose interest in the commotion, and return to their own business.

"This. Is. Simple," Bash explained. "Or should I just get Rachel and the whole town to ask her out for you?"

For a moment he almost considered it, until he glanced at Anne's ready order that sat waiting on the counter. He hadn't called her name yet. He gulped, and with shaking hands opened a drawer behind the counter that contained extra straws, napkins and… markers. He took one and uncapped it, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. The coast was clear; Bash having turned around to make someone's coffee. He picked up the cup and gripped it tightly as he wrote, "You're beautiful."

"Oh, coffee flirting?" Bash whispered, grinning. "Smooth, Blythe. Smooth."

Gilbert nearly jumped out of his skin; he hadn't heard Bash sneak up behind him. He shot him another glare as he set the cup down and recapped the marker.

He took a deep breath. "One mocha, banana oat muffin, and three croissants for takeout for a Cordelia?"

When he saw her remove her earbuds, and peek over her book, eyes sparkling, his stomach fluttered a bit, and he sincerely hoped that he was not about to make a very big mistake. She pushed her chair back from the table, causing it to make a screech across the tile floor. She flinched a bit at the noise, but approached the counter with a grin on her face, and sapphire eyes dancing.

"Well, I'd best be heading home soon. I've heard that Jerry and Diana are coming over, and we haven't seen them ever since they moved to Paris. See you." She grabbed her cup and winked at him as she left, making his heart stop right then and there.

She stopped at the table she had been sitting at, and set the cup down without taking more than a glimpse at it as she packed her book and earbuds into her bag. Draping the bag over her shoulders, she finally reached down to grab her cup and to take a quick drink, all the while Gilbert held his breath, heart in his throat as she raised the drink to bring it to her lips, before freezing when she saw his message scrawled across it.

She looked at her cup, then back at his worried face. Suddenly, she didn't know what had gotten into her.

Gilbert watched as her expression grew from surprise, to realization, and then to delight. The smile she gave him melted his heart as she raced back over to him and threw her arms around his neck, despite the counter being between them.

"See you tomorrow…Gilbert." Her eyes quickly darted down to the sticker on his apron. Just as she was about to leave, she looked back and smiled at him. A beaming smile so bright that he thought he'd die happy right there.

The bell above the coffee shop door jingled as she exited, and Gilbert watched after her with a lovesick expression glued onto his face. Bash having watched the whole thing, came out from the back with a smug look on his face.

"Well, Blythe, all's left is to ask her out. Think you can handle that?"

He turned to Bash, eyebrows furrowed. "Isn't that… what I just did?"

Bash gaped at him. "You're joking, right?" A few more exasperated noises escaped him as he looked at Gilbert as if he wanted to strangle him. "Blythe. For real. Ask the girl out. There's always Rachel Lynde and the whole town."

"Well help me then, Bash! You and I both know that I don't have a clue what to do." He whined.

"Well, just blatantly tell her that you want to go someplace sometime. Name a time and place. Then put on some romantic music, have dinner, and then mwah."

Gilbert simply blinked. "Okay…" He said slowly. "Maybe I can do that."

"Even the kissing?" Bash questioned. "Wait, never mind," he shook his head. "Just be yourself. But don't spill any coffee on yourself. Or her. Just…don't spill coffee."

"Don't spill coffee… ok." Gilbert echoed back. "Wait, you seriously expect me to spill coffee?"

"I'm not wholly certain myself what you're capable of, Blythe," Bash shuddered. "You could've set the shop on fire and possibly all of Avonlea with your burnt coffee."

Gilbert scoffed. "She's coming back tomorrow… what do I wear?"

Bash blinked. "You're worried about what you're going to wear, and you haven't even asked her out yet?"

"Maybe my white shirt. A white shirt is the key to making a good impression." Gilbert said, disregarding Bash's question.

"Don't forget cufflinks, either," he added. "Old-fashioned, but the women love 'em. But you can't spill coffee on them either," Bash said, laughing as Gilbert glared.

"Yes, Bash, I get your point. Don't spill anything, don't screw it up, and then get the courage to ask her out again. If this goes well."

Gilbert showed up at the shop for work the next day dressed in his white button down shirt, and his father's cuff links. (Thanks to Bash's suggestion.) Every time the door opened, his head quickly shot up from whatever he was doing in order to see if the redhead had come. After several disappointments, and several barks of laughter from Bash when he nearly spilled a customer's order of coffee when the doorbell jingled, the lovely redhead did indeed show up.

She was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a blue blouse. The color seemed to make her ocean eyes pop even more. Her long red hair was tumbling down her back in waves, with a section of it tied up in a mustard yellow scrunchie. She smiled when she saw him, and Gilbert who had that same fluttery feeling in his stomach, gave her a delighted yet nervous grin.

"Well, I've been here for three days, but I expect you've memorized my order," she teased. "Mocha-"

"-with banana oat muffins and some croissants for your family," Gilbert grinned.

"Right." She laughed. "I suppose I'm am a bit predictable with my ordering. Although, I'm usually not with other things, let me tell you."

"Unpredictable. I like it," he chuckled. "Coming right up, Miss."

Her face flushed when she heard him refer to her so. It sent her old, hopeless romantic heart beating so fast she thought it would fly out of her chest.

Gilbert grinned smugly at seeing her blush. "Hey, uh… I was wanting to ask if you wanted to go out sometime. Maybe to the movies, or… somewhere." He finished awkwardly, the sudden surge of courage he had had for a brief second deciding to forsake him. "I mean, it's totally fine if you say no. There could be family events or some emergencies, you really don't have to, though, it could be a waste of your time. Although I'd really like it if you could?" Gilbert said, all in one breath. His chill had completely flown out the window.

Bash bit his lip to prevent some laughter from coming out, but Gilbert glared at him from the counter while his brother pretended that he was just mopping the already shiny floors.

Gilbert held his breath as he watched Anne's eyes widen, and a tiny smile appear on her face. His heart seemed to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. The anticipation— He couldn't take it. He was going to pass out. He knew he was going to pass out—

"I'd love to."

Gilbert fell back onto the floor.

Bash quickly grabbed his brother and hauled him to the back. "We'll be right back," he said apologetically to Anne. "Just some technical issues here."

Anne watched after them with a concerned look on her face at the shocking turn of events. One moment a young handsome man was in front of her, the very same one who had called her beautiful only the day before; with his adorable mop of dark curls and anxious hazel eyes gazing into hers, asking her if she wanted to go out with him, and then the next, he had disappeared behind the counter with a *thud.*

For once in her life, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was speechless.

"So… you and Gilbert," a familiar voice said from behind her. "That boy's been wanting to ask you out for ages, I swear. Yet when he does, he falls onto the flippin' floor!"

Anne saw that it was indeed no other than Mrs. Rachel Lynde. "Mrs. Lynde…are you sure your medication's not just acting up?"

Rachel let out a hearty laugh. "I'm serious, dear. That boy is head over his heels for you." She looked Anne up and down and noticed her flushed cheeks. "He's a handsome boy, isn't he?"

"Very."

"Apologies for the inconvenience," Bash appeared, grinning nervously. "On the house, for your troubles. Ah, Mrs. Rachel, the very person I hoped to see today! He did it! That moke did it!"

"Is he alright?" Anne asked anxiously, trying to look over Bash's shoulder towards the back. "He isn't hurt, is he?"

"Nope. Passed out from elation and exhilaration. He'll be fine in an hour or so."

"From…asking me out?" Anne asked dubiously.

Rachel chuckled. "Most likely, or do you think he passed out from seeing Moody trying to do Irish dances over there?" She pointed to the far corner of the cafe, where Moody was indeed trying to put on a musical. Or a pantomime, Anne couldn't tell.

Anne laughed, shaking her head. She turned to Bash. "You didn't leave him on the floor back there, did you? You seem like the sort of brother who would do that, if it's not too presumptuous of me to say."

"There's a counter in the kitchen," he answered. "Who, me? Never!"

"Well, seeing as Gilbert is… out of sorts at the moment, could you give me his number so I can text him later?" Anne asked, pulling out her phone from her back pocket.

"He'll love that," Bash answered. "I'm certain he'll give you a call within whenever he wakes up."

Gilbert opened his eyes a while later to be greeted by the blinding lights of the kitchen ceiling. He felt something cold and hard beneath him. Groaning, he brought a hand to his forehead, and attempted to sit up. The whole world seemed to be spinning. What the heck had happened? Why was he on the counter? The last thing he remembered was Anne's pink lovely lips saying: 'I'd love to,' When he had asked her out. Clumsily, he admitted, but he still asked her out nonetheless. Then it had all gone dark.

"Bash!" He exclaimed when he saw his brother come in. "W-What happened? Where's Anne?"

"Finally woke up, you moke," Bash groaned, pulling Gilbert to his feet. "She gave you her number and left after you passed out when she said yes to your date."

Gilbert moaned, and put his face in his hands. "She thinks I'm a complete idiot now, doesn't she? She probably just left me her number because she felt sorry for me."

"No, she wanted to escape your friend Moody Spurgeon's Irish dancing," Bash answered good-naturedly. "Plus, it did look like she was rushing to get ready for a date…"

"When is it? I don't remember discussing a time!" He pat down his pockets in search of his phone. "Ugh, where's my phone? I need to call her."

"Yikes," Bash muttered. "You took a pretty hard fall, Blythe…your phone is slightly damaged."

Gilbert's face paled. "Please tell me you're joking."

Bash handed him the phone. "I think I can fix it…?"

Gilbert gingerly took it, and gulped when he saw the huge crack that ran across the length of his phone. He timidly pushed the home button, but grimaced when it didn't turn on. "Maybe the battery died?" Bash suggested.

"No can do. It is dead due to my idiotism." Gilbert walked into a large supply closet and proceeded to stay in the next two minutes, much to Bash's concern.

"You still remember you've got a date, right?" he asked suspiciously. "And for the record, idiotism is not a word!"

"Of course I do!" Gilbert called from the closet. "I believe the damage went mostly to my phone when I fell, not my brain."

"Then explain to me why you were knocked out for an hour, why don't ya?"

"I was shocked! She literally said yes to go out with me! Didn't that ever happen to you with Mary? No fainting?"

"Can't say that it did, Blythe." Bash chuckled.

"Okay, do I look alright? I think…does she seem like a horror type or the romance type?"

"I'd say the romance type… what are you thinking of, Blythe? I also think you'd look better, if you would come out of that closet."

"Eh, I could see her as a Jane Austen type," Gilbert lamented. "What if I totally mess this up?"

"Well, as long as there's no more passing out, and no spilling coffee, I'd say you'll be okay." Bash replied.

"Maybe you should get her a little something… to smooth things over from earlier. You say she strikes you as a Jane Austen type of person… why not take her to a bookstore for your date? Even though you're a moke, what could you possibly do wrong in a bookstore?"

"Bookstore? That does sound better," Gilbert considered.

"First, get your head out of that closet," Bash stated. "What are you doing in there anyway, Blythe?"

"Thinking about my life choices and how the only time someone agrees to a date with me, I pass out," he groaned, muffled.

"Although that is a very good reason to be in there, don't you think you should at least contact the poor girl to let her know that you're okay, and that you would still very much like that date with her? She seemed pretty concerned when you… well, ya know."

"Passed out?" Gilbert finished.

"That." Bash winced. "Gilbert. Go to Green Gables. It's not even thirty minutes away from here!" Bash pleaded. "Take the car, for all I care."

"Bash, how can I? I made a complete fool of myself." Gilbert moaned in reply.

"Well, why don't you tell her that? Tell her that you like her so much that you made a complete fool of yourself. Who knows, she might think it's cute. Women tend to think things like that are sweet. So I've heard anyway…"

"Oh yeah, you fell asleep in a barrel of rum and proposed to her. Romantic," Gilbert replied.

Bash grimaced. "Yeah, I guess it was a 'little bit' like that… Come out of the closet now, would you? Already, please?" he pleaded, changing the topic.

"So, about what you said…" Came Gilbert's muffled voice from the closet. "You'll let me take the car to Green Gables?"

"As long as you don't crash it," Bash groaned. "I know, I know. You've been driving for two years, you should be good now."

The closet door opened, and revealed Gilbert who peeked his curly head out. "I make no promises. Isn't it said that love makes you do crazy things?" Gilbert answered with a grin.

"Alright, alright. Don't crash it, remember that," Bash replied, handing him the keys. As Gilbert eagerly rushed towards the door, Bash put a hand up to stop him. "Ah ah, we still have to get our job done first. Jobs before love interests, am I right?"

Gilbert groaned, but then quickly checked his watch. "Only an hour 'till closing time… I suppose I can wait until then…" He mumbled.

"You were knocked out for almost the entire day, you moke." Bash elbowed his brother. "I had to give Anne and Mrs. Lynde free drinks for the fainting."

"Mrs. Lynde?" Gilbert's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "She knows what happened?!" He put his face in his hands. "Ohhhh everyone In Avonlea probably knows about what happened now…"

"We'll have to see," Bash answered in a good-humored way. "Wait and see, Blythe. But first, there's a customer."

Bash gave his brother a pat on the shoulder, before making his way back out to the front. Gilbert stood there behind him, car keys still in hand. He looked down at them longingly, before reluctantly putting them into his pocket.

"May I take your order, sir?" he heard Bash begin, preparing himself for hordes of latte orders coming in.

After indeed a flurry of lattes, closing time finally arrived, and Gilbert mentally prepared himself as he opened the door to Bash's car; nervous butterflies once again returning.

He blasted up the radio, some classical songs that Bash and Mary loved. While driving, Gil wondered…how would this go? Would he freeze up when he looked into her eyes? Would he pass out again? When he reached Green Gables, it started to rain.

Gilbert stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He blinked raindrops out of his eyes, bringing a hand up to shield them. He was about to start for the house, when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He moved his gaze towards the large grey barn and saw a figure running from it towards the house. The figure stopped abruptly when she saw him, and when she came nearer, his heart nearly stopped when he saw that it was Anne.

She was soaking wet, standing by the front porch. "I waited for you," she said softly, yet Gilbert was able to hear her through the pounding rain.

Her red hair was plastered to the sides of her face, and her piercing blue eyes never left his as he stepped closer. Soon they were face to face.

"I know," Gilbert replied. "Well…I guess…I was nervous, alright? That first day you walked into the coffee shop, with Leaves of Grass and your earbuds, I think I may have fallen for you. And since Rachel and Bash, plus everyone, has been wanting me to get the nerves to talk to you, I didn't think I could. So I tried asking you out…"

"-and you ended up passing out," Anne laughed slightly. "I thought you were repulsed by the idea and that it was a dare."

"No! No… it was just my foolish self, being an idiot. I-I couldn't believe that you had said yes, and then by then I was already feeling sick and dizzy from actually getting the nerves to ask you, and then… well… you know the rest." He sighed. "Anyway…"

"Anyway…" She echoed softly.

The rain began to pour even harder, and before she could comprehend anything, Anne leaned forward and kissed him. She didn't know how she got the courage to do that, it was probably an impulsive decision she'd come to regret later-

Just as Gilbert began to kiss her back, with a warm, happy, fluttering feeling overcoming his entire body, Anne abruptly tore away and began apologizing. "Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I—"

Gilbert gently grabbed her face, lifting her head up to meet his eyes, before guiding her lips back to his, interrupting her unnecessary apology.

They stood there for a while, just kissing in the rain before a car horn interrupted them. They turned to see that it was no other than Jerry Baynard. "So, how long has this been going on?" he asked, one of his eyebrows raised.

Blushing, Anne took a step away from Gilbert, and grinned guilty at Jerry. Gilbert was blushing beet red as well, as rain continued to drip down both of their faces. "Technically, like three minutes…" She laughed. "Ah, Gilbert, say, would you like to stay over for dinner? We haven't had guests in a while," Anne continued, turning to Jerry. "If that's alright with you, Jerry."

Jerry eyed Gilbert suspiciously. "Gilbert, is it?" He looked him up and down. "Anne is like a sister to me, and if you break her heart… just know that you'll have me to answer to." With that he walked past them, and jogged up the porch steps, then went into the house.

Gilbert gulped, and turned to Anne nervously. She smiled at him reassuringly. "That's his way of saying welcome to the family."

"I'm glad," Gilbert replied. "And I'd love to join you for dinner."

Author's Note: I cannot take all of the credit for this fanfic. It was written by @shirbertsholmsburys on Pinterest, and myself. It was such a fun collaboration to do! I hope everyone enjoyed, it was so much fun to write.