A/N: This is for Gadge Day! Please review and don't worry, I'm working on the sequels you guess wanted! And I'm planning on writing Military School soon too! Happy Gadge Day!

Comic Con
(Gale/Madge)
(Modern Day)

When the top two authors were coming to Comic Con it just made sense to put them in the same hotel room, right? The publicity would skyrocket! Plus, every journalist in New York City would be diving head first into writing a big fat, fake report: World's Best Author's In It Together or Not Only Do Their Books Rock the World, They Rock Each Other's World Too ;) (if you're catching their drift) or even as far as this: Top New Couple Booking It from a Club, Hands all Over Each Other! Anything that could possibly be related to their chosen profession would be spread out on every magazine cover, every newspaper article, and billboards across the city until Comic Con was done!

So when they arrived with their agents and found out they were sharing (sharing!) a room together, Gale about busted a nut and Madge about had a collapsed lung after how fast the breath was sucked right out of her. They had both marched their pretty little asses down to the front desk and demanded a new room, separate rooms. It really wasn't that hard of a request to ask, honestly. All they needed was one other room (damn it, even if it was joint room they wouldn't care, as long as they weren't together), how hard could that be!? Apparently, pretty damn hard.

They both went round and round with the front desk worker – a young boy in college with acne up the wazoo and apparently was a nervous sweater. He kept insisting there were no other rooms available and that they were going to have to share. It wasn't the greatest arrangement and they could totally live with… No, just freaking no! It wasn't going to happen. Like Gale would rather have been thrown off a damn bridge and eaten by a shark than have to share with Madge Undersee! It would be like living in hell for a week! And he just wasn't going to do it! All he wanted was to enjoy his week and talk about his past and most recent books with fans and really get to know them on a different level. He wanted to know what they thought about his characters – who they liked and who they hated – and what they wanted to see in the future so he could add in tidbits here and there for them. But now, his relaxing week with his fans was going to shit and stressed out week was quickly pulling into the station.

It wasn't that he didn't really like Madge Undersee, although if he never had to see her again he'd be totally fine with that too, but he hasn't seen her since high school. That was 10 years ago. She's finally filled out into her body, and even though she was still petite, she had wicked curves that Gale's hands itched to touch. He wanted to feel the dip of his waistline in his hands as they travel from her ribcage to her hips. He wanted to figure out what perfume she wore while he also figured out what her collarbone tasted like. She was desirable and grown up. She wasn't the beautiful, unattainable Mayor's Daughter that was stick thin and curve-less as a pencil. She was a woman now – a successful woman – and that attracted Gale more than it did in high school.

Now he was forced into sharing a room with a beautiful woman that he couldn't even touch? Damn, was he screwed or what?

Her blue eyes drifted over to him, fire still burning deep within her eyes like a volcano about to erupt. Her thin arms were crossed over her medium sized chest and she had one of the deepest frowns set on her face that he has ever seen on a human being, even Rory couldn't surpass that. She seemed to be grinding her teeth and she most definitely had her jaw clench, she didn't say a word for a long moment. He couldn't explain why, but his insides twisted up and squeezed tight while he waited for the words to come out of her mouth. He feared she would tell him to go to a different hotel (even though this hotel was for Comic Con's people of interest. Suddenly, he didn't want a different room like before. Suddenly, he felt the urge to get over the crazy long high school rivalry and push passed the fact that they were competing for the top writer's spot in the world, and just get to know her. She intrigues him, made his blood pump faster and his temperature to rise. He almost missed the adrenaline coursing through his veins while they bickered back and forth at her back door all those years ago.

If only she would give him chance…Which was nearly impossible.

"Well," she starts, "I'm not happy about this one bit, not one, but I'm tired and I want to sleep. I've been on a flight for over 14 hours and I haven't had a proper bed in 4 weeks. So, if this is how it has to be…stay on your side of the room, not mine," she started walking about towards the elevators, "if you want the bathroom after 7:30, though luck, get up earlier," she says as she pressed the button that says 17, "and most importantly…don't look at me, don't talk to me, don't even think about me, okay?"

"I don't know if I should reply…"

"Oh, and don't be a smartass." She snaps at him, the volcano in her eyes finally erupting. She turns to look at the white buttons, her eyes zeroing in on the lit up red 17. They don't speak, just like she asked (demanded), the whole ride up to their floor. It wasn't awkward; silence never had been between the two. Even if it was, neither of them would have noticed because they were too busy coming up with their next comeback to pay any attention to the outside silence. But when Gale's hand brushes Madge's in the hallway as they traveled around corner, a spark of electricity or fear (who know how she would react. It wasn't a part of her rules, but…) passed through his whole body down to his toes.

When it happened the second time, she snatched her hand away and whips her head around too look him square in the eye, "Just because I didn't state that you couldn't touch me does not mean you can." She snaps.

"Oh shut it, Undersee, it's not like I'm about to fucking rape you in the hallway just because our hands brushed."

"Well who you said you weren't thinking it?" she fires back.

"Christ, Undersee, not everyone in the damn world are rapists!" She narrows her eyes at him like she can't decide whether or not to believe him. Sure, she knew he had gotten around in high school and probably still now – I mean, look at him with those steel gray eyes that could render anyone girl speechless and the muscles bulging out of his shirt like "look at me, look at me!" – So what was she supposed to expect? She knew she was pretty, at least above average. Why wouldn't a good looking guy like him want a little something from a good looking girl like her? So what? She went a little far with the whole rapist assumption, but if her hand hadn't lit up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July, maybe she wouldn't have been so hard on him. She hated that even in high school he was hot, but now, now he was freaking over the moon, Greek goddess handsome with angular features and a military build. He was hot for a writer.

He had always been hot. But now he had that late 20's vibe going for him. He just gave off waves of maturity and sex. And she hated to admit it, but damn, her crush on him still seemed to be going strong. Every time those gray eyes landed on her, she felt her stomach coil with heat. And his hand, always warm (but not the sweaty kind of warm), had made her entire body feel electrified. Somehow, now, he made her feel grown up, making her want to do grown up things.

So she put up a barrier that she knows is going to be hard to keep. Seriously, if she's being honest with herself, she hasn't had much "fun" lately, and Gale Hawthorne was sexy as crap…and if they had a little alone time…she wasn't too sure she wouldn't throw his skinny ass on to the bed and do things she shouldn't do. He was just so hot, she whines in her head.

Their agents are leaning against both sides of the door when they return. They're talking about their client's works in progress and upcoming press tours and interviews. Apparently Gale had a photo-shoot for People Magazine coming up real soon to promote the new charity he's a part of. And apparently Madge had an upcoming interview on Live with Kelly and Michael to promote her book becoming a movie.

Although Madge was proud of her book becoming so popular that it's becoming a movie with an estimated $60,000,000 in revenue the first weekend, she had always been jealous that Gale's went into the movie industry before hers. Neither would admit it, but when they first found out the other was in the same profession, they kept tabs on each other. They stalked all the blogs and newspapers and magazine covers to see where the other was at. Madge envied Gale's power in the writer's world. His first book had been published before hers (while he was still in college at the age of 22, hers when she was 24), his went #1 on the New York Bestsellers List before hers did (him – 24, her – 25 1/2), and was made into a movie earlier than hers (him – 25, her – 28). Sure they were the same age and it takes a lot of writers a long time to accomplish what they have, but it just burns her ass that he's such a good writer (one she aspires to be) and he (even if he deserves it) is getting all the cool things faster than hers. She had always been on top, and now it was his turn to shine. She's proud of him; don't get her wrong, she's damn proud of him. But she wishes for herself to be just as good as him. And in retrospect, she is as good as him. They are competing for the top spot in the world, aren't they?

But she also wishes for something more, something she's been wishes for since high school. And that was something more.

And she feared sharing a room would bring that into view for him. It terrified her. She fears he will run for the hills or, even worse, laugh at her. Gale had always made her feel important when no one else did. She had always been the Mayor's Daughter, not Madge. Gale made her feel like Madge, not daughter of the Mayor. He didn't treat her like he should've treated the Mayor's Daughter. He didn't care. He was angry that she had everything when he had so little, but that made him who he is today – successful. And she always craved him because he has never treated her as an untouchable thing. Even now, as a famous writer, people treated her like they treat Taylor Swift, like a perfect angel that is so above them. She was a writer, not Angelina Jolie that was like a god herself. She was normal old Madge that spent way too much time browsing and reblogging stupid stuff on Tumblr and ranting about stupid people on Facebook. She still drove her car – a beat up old Mustang that cost her more in repairs than for the actually car – to her office every day to do her job. She still went to the grocery store and, yes, she still ate McDonalds and Wendy's like they were heaven on earth! She wasn't a Victoria's Secret model with super thin legs that went on forever (even if hers did go on forever) that only ate salads and worked out when they weren't modeling the latest set of sexy lingerie. She would preach to anyone that asked that coffee houses had the best vibe for writing and that Walmart jeans were just as good, if not more durable, than the newest pair of Vera Wang jeans that were over $100.

Her point is, Gale Hawthorne is one of the only people that don't put her on a pedestal. He was one of the only people that made her work for things that she has. Even to this day, even if he doesn't know this, she still pushes herself "as hard as Gale would." His success, his perseverance was what pushed her. It's what made her book as popular as it is. Okay, she'll admit it; he was the main inspiration for it. She couldn't help it! She saw his face on her computer screen accepting yet another award for his writing and it kind of pissed her off. He was always prevalent in the writer's world and she felt like she was just starting out when really she wasn't.

They said goodbye to their agents, who kissed them on the cheeks and chatted about getting lunch together, before entering the grand room. The room could only be described as gorgeous and expensive. It had white and gold tapestries and one pure white bed and one pure black bed (chocolate on the pillows included ;)), a fully stocked snack bar and mini fridge (alcoholic beverages were present), and a fully stocked bathroom. Their luggage was sitting by their beds (Madge's by the white bed, Gale by the black bed). They even had a stack of books in their preferred genres on their bedside tables. Madge smiles to see a stack of classics and a stack of romance (not the ones your grandma reads, she's not that old yet) and comedy readily available. She peers over to Gale's table and saw some of the best sci-fi and paranormal/fantasy authors stacked there. Gale grabbed the top book – Angelfall by Susan Ee – and settles into bed, pillows stacked behind his back and the sheet pulled up to his knees. She admired his profile for a minute, a blush spreading across her cheeks when he looked over at her.

"What? I thought you didn't want to talk? Change your mind, princess?" her blush deepens.

"No," she snaps, "Just looking at what you're reading." She snaps but it feels fake, even to her.

"Well don't." he snaps back her and his didn't seem fake, although it was.

And that's how the first night went. Them reading without really reading, sneaking glances at one another when the other wasn't looking, snacking on the phenomenal snack bar, and sucking down alcohol like there was no tomorrow. And that's what happens when your high school crush is in the same room as you.

She finds out that Gale liked to go to bed early, around 10 o'clock and he always stopped reading or writing around 8. She always finds out that he doesn't like reality tv (he scoffed when he saw her favorite show on guide, Keeping Up With the Kardashian) and that he would much rather watch the History Channel and anything about World War II, he was game. Which of course, Hitler's Reign was the topic of the episode.

She found that he was kind of cute when he watched tv. He nods along to the things he knew, muttering more about it under his breath. And he was tilts his head and write down the things he didn't know. He seems to relax the more the show went on. She found that she like being in his element.

About halfway through the episode, he got up and went into the bathroom, sticking his head out every so often with a toothbrush poking out of his lips. He never looked at her, but she surely looked at him. Especially when he came out in just his ratty old, red boxers with a gray waistband, and no shirt on, his clothes neatly folded in his arms. And yes, she's an adult and can totally check out his ass as he climbs into bed. And let her tell you, his ass was fine. More than fine, it was fan-tas-tic!

Her eyes follow the swirling line of muscles up his back, loving the way the skin dipped down around his shoulder blades. It was like mini angel wings. She doesn't understand why the view of her back made her shiver with joy, but it did. He did.

He flops into bed and rolls into the covers. When he's done, only his head and fingertips are sticking out of the blanket. He gives her a goofy smile with a playful glint in his eyes. Quirking an eyebrow, she fills her cheeks fill up with blood.

His smirk deepens, "Like the view?" his lifts his eyebrows twice and lets out a short laugh, "Don't even pretend you weren't looking, Undersee, your face says it all."

"I – uh- but- um – I – I – I was not!" Her face was probably as bright as a tomato by now, her entire body felt on fire and not in a good. But now it has her thinking about his perfectly, pouty, plump mouth that would be delicious on her own. Great, now she was back in the teenage fantasy faze. Like she didn't have enough dreams of his lips slowing moving in sync with hers, or his hands roughly roaming her body as he ran his nose down her neck with his hot breath brushes her skin, or even what it would feel like to touch that fantastic butt? "Um – I – uh – you – I –Night!" She quickly switches her bedside lamp off, snapping the room into darkness in a second. He was snickering, she knew it, she could hear it.

"Night, Madge." He put a sexy draw on it just to drive her insane.

"Night!" she squeaks out. God, what was wrong with her!?

…

The next morning Madge looked like a mess. Her messy bun somehow got from hella cute to hella-how-did-this-get-to-the-side-of-my-head, and don't get her started on how her tank top strap becoming a waist strap. Like it wasn't even fashionable, belt like cute, it was hell what were you doing last night mess. Her sports bra – thank god she wore one to bed last night – at least covered her boobs unlike her shirt. Her pajama shorts were twisted but they covered her ass at least and her undies were completely covered too (thank god, they have whales on them; adorable blue whales, but whales…she really needed to stop at the nearest Victoria's Secret if she was rooming with I-just-woke-up-and-look-like-a-Greek-goddess-Hawthorne).

And not to mention the worse part of it all…she woke up to Gale Hawthorne hovering over her, his hand gently on her shoulder. And please, if she could say so herself, she deserved an award. Not just for the outfit spectacular, but for not grabbing his face and kissing the shit out of him. I mean, come on, his hair was mused and messy and his breath still had that stale morning breath (she could have been without, but she wasn't judging) and his boxer were crooked (one over his hip bone, the other lower). He looked so cute. Damn, sharing a room with him was gonna be hard.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, "I've been trying to wake you for the past 10 minutes! Christ, woman, you sleep like a bear in hibernation!" His hands flew up above his head, "I really hope there's never a fire when you're asleep! And you probably like candles too! Christ, you're gonna light yourself on fire one of these days!" she smiled sleepily; she loved the lift in his voice as he rambles, his hands flying all over the place. Suddenly, he stated, "I'm going to shower, you better get ready fast! We don't have much time, Sleeping Beauty!" She really hopes that the nickname doesn't stick.

He was gone by the time she rolled out of the shower. There was a blue sticky note on the door, the adhesive peeling off from the humidity of the steam from the shower that read: You took too long, I was going to wait. I left you breakfast. I'm guessing you still like strawberries…

Well of course, she did. And sitting on her bedside table was a big heaping stack of strawberries pancakes and a fresh, crisp, red apple sitting on a napkin beside it. And you can't forget the tall glass of orange juice sitting next to it. Although she didn't like orange juice, she still appreciated the gesture. She ate quickly once she realized she was supposed to be down there already. She slipped the apple into her bag and grabbed the layout of the floor plan and headed straight for the elevator, her sparkly heels clicking on the linoleum.

She slips into the room, welcomed by a big round of applause from her fans. A beautiful smile instantly morphs onto her face, her white teeth shining. She loved press conferences and fan meet and greets. They were also so lovely and lively, constantly quoting things from her book. Some even knew the page number!

People shouted things at her, like "I love your shoes," "Omg, where can I get that bag," and "I need a sequel, stat!" And don't worry, she totally had plans on giving out all her style secrets and she had a big announcement of a sequel in the floor plans.

Meanwhile, Gale was currently reading his favorite chapter in his newest series and he couldn't stop laughing at the girl in the front row. She was reciting every word along with him and every time he looked at her she would make goofy faces, causing him to lose his shit. He about spit his iced candy cane latte on her, he was laughing so hard.

Around midway through the meeting, he took his navy blue blazer off. And if he's being honest, he knows he's pretty decent looking. And he knows just about every girl in the room swooned over the way the shirt accented his shoulders. He knew, but he wasn't cocky about it.

When lunch rolled around both of them snuck back up to their room, surprising each other.

"Thought you'd hang out with some on your friends, Cassie Clare, Joseph Finder, Liam Hemsworth…" she was making fun of him for it and he knew it. He had recently let out a secret on Jimmy Fallon about how he wrote his newest second main character with the idea of Liam Hemsworth as the lead role if the book would ever become a movie. And of course, because it's Gale, it became a movie and those two have been seen everywhere together; getting coffee, going surfing, shopping, going out to lunch together, anything. The tabloids have been eating that up since the two started working together. And of course, even if he wouldn't admit it, he was having the time of his life. (And maybe he harassed Liam about getting back together with Miley because they were his OTP, just maybe…).

He laughs a laugh that she adores, "No, no, I thought I'd take some time for myself. Thought you weren't talking to me…" his lips formed into shy smile, his insides twisting up. God, why is he starting to feel like a stupid teenager again? What? Finally, they're in the same playing field and the teenager inside of him was all giddy like whoa, we make the same amount of money, I'm finally in her league. Like just stop, he wanted to scream at himself. And yeah, that whole no shirt thing last night was half meant to piss her off and half meant to impress her.

God, they were the most screwed up adults going. They either needed to get their shit together or getting together. It was one or the other, life or death. But the thing is, he lived in New York and she lived in Seattle. It would never work out. His stomach dropped. What was he thinking, he never had a shot anyways.

He doesn't notice the frown that turns down his lips but she does. He also doesn't notice that he was staring but the light in his eyes a few moments ago had passed and it left her wondering what exactly he was thinking.

"Are you alright?" she sounds hesitant because she's not quite sure how he'll take it.

He looks at the wall while running his hand feverishly through his hair harshly, "Yeah, I'm fine." He starts to turn, "I'm just…gonna go…get some food." She grabs his elbow lightly and spins him around, cocking her head to the side.

"Now, come on. Don't be like that." He shook her off and mumbles something unintelligible before walking back towards the door leading to the staircase. It seems his still mistrusts elevators after his father died in the mines all those years ago.

She lets him.

…

That night she's had enough. He was being an asshole. She doesn't know what happened in his meeting or what made him the grumpy dwarf, but she was done.

"What is your problem!?" she finally screams.

"My problem…my problem!?" he yells back, pointing at his chest.

"Yeah, you." She knows it comes out accusingly and it isn't helping anyone, but if he calls her Princess One. More. Time…he'd be lucky if he ever had a chance to reproduce again or it he still had two working lungs by morning.

"I'm doing nothing." He sits on his bed, swinging his long, lean legs up on the bed. He crosses his arms over his chest like a little child and sets his lips in a pout. She was so done, just absolutely done with him. God, what was he…freaking 3?

"Bull shit! That's absolute bull, Gale Hawthorne!" she stalks over to his bed and if all her might she slams the heel of her hands into his chest. "That is the biggest lie I've ever heard, you damn liar, you no good donkey!"

"Did you just call me a donkey?" but she didn't hear him because she was too busy calling him names.

"…You've never been nice, I'm not a fucking princess, and you're the biggest – " she cut off by how quickly his hands are on her waist and how faster she under his weight, his lips on hers. His mouth was hot on her, desiring burning like a forest fire between them. Her hands grabbed the back of his shirt, fisting in at the base of his back. His toned stomach was pressed firmly against her own and she could feel his racing heartbeat hammering against her chest. It was like the beat of drums, but she didn't linger on that. Instead, she focused on how good his hands in her hair felt and how even better it felt to finally have his mouth on hers.

She has a surge of confidence. She swings her legs up and over his hip, twisting them until his head banged against the headboard and he was now on the bottom. His cheeks were flamed red, just like her must be too. His breathing was heavy but she didn't let him catch his breath. She crashes her lips on his again and reveled in the fact that their lips moved in sync as if they've been doing this for months. It sure felt like it, too. Her body felt connected to his like it hasn't with any other man. He lit her on fire and she loved it. She felt powerful, she felt loved, and she most definitely felt beautiful.

Soon enough they were left wrapped in the black, silk sheets, both of them breathing hard with smiles on their faces.

"Well that was fun." He comments. She laughs and stretches her lips to peck him on the chin.

"So again?"

"Eager beaver, are you?" he says as he rolls back over top of her. She smiles and arches up to kiss him again.

…

The tabloids totally got their Top Authors Booking It Out of a Club Together because the last night of Comic Con they went for drinks with a few friends. And sure, alcohol was a driving force in why they left the bar earlier, hand in hand.

And when Gale picked up the latest copy of Capitol Magazine the next more, he couldn't help but think: "At least it's a good picture." And it was. They were both smiling, heads turned down. Gale's eyes were trained on the ground to make sure they didn't fall, but Madge, in her tipsy state, had all eyes on Gale. She had a glint in her eye that made Gale's stomach tingle and his heart swell.

"Best Comic Con ever!" he mutters before snorting and slipping the copy in his bag, paying the guy at the counter with a smile. He exits the small shop in the hotel and goes back to luggage in the middle of the reception area. He's just pulling up the handle on his suitcase when a hand grabs his butt and an arm wraps around his waist, and don't forget the beautiful blonde sneaking her head around his side.

"So where too next? I was thinking Hawaii, always good writing vibes there."

He kisses her temple and snakes his arm around her tiny waist, "Wherever you want." Neither of them noticed the paparazzi snapping a picture of the two through the hotel's glass doors, and they wouldn't until a week later when their agents called to confirm the rumor. But they wouldn't care; they were in Hawaii with all the good writer's vibes and great shots of each other in bathing suits. And of course, they had great views of "other" things too, just not on their phones.