Michael's Secret
Disclaimer: American Dreams and its characters do not belong to me. They are the property of NBC. I am making not money. Do not sue. I am poor.
Rating: PG. I don't do G fics
Notes: I love the thought of Michael and Meg together on American Dreams. I thought I was alone, until the author calling herself Mystery Girl was kind enough to post her Michael/Meg fic. Thank you. Now I can explore the chemistry that these two characters create together. Perhaps this will bring more AD fans into our camp.
She's just sixteen years old. Young, sweet, innocent. She has no idea about real life yet. She's still protected by the walls her father has built around her. Oh, it's starting to crumble. She's slowly beginning to break though brick by brick as she discovers that there is more in the world then family, church, and school.
She loves music and dancing. Thank God for that! I bless Bandstand every day for existing, for without it I wouldn't get the chance to see her for the few hours every week that I do.
I'll never forget the first time I saw her. Her face simply drew the camera to her. She has no idea what happened to me that day. Hell, I don't even know what happened! I never bought into the notion of love at first sight. I always thought such things where reserved for fairy tales and Hollywood movies…which basically could be classified as the same thing.
But the moment her face showed up, I got hit with every cliché I always laughed at before. A bolt out of the blue, hit with cupid's arrow, dumbstruck…you know how it goes. The point is, I found myself directing cameras to follow her around because I simply didn't want to take my eyes off of her.
I wanted to rush out onto the dance floor and shove Jimmy Riley to the ground when he pulled her out to dance. Jealousy. I've never had the cause to feel jealous before. It's a strange feeling. But then I saw her smile. The pure joy on her face. She was so happy. I couldn't destroy such a beautiful sight.
She can dance. Really dance. That's a plus. I mean, if she was a horrible dancer and I asked her to be a regular, I'd be questioned as to my motives. I made up my mind to ask her two seconds after seeing her. After 5 minutes I was planning our wedding. Half an hour later I had named all 5 of our children. Two boys and three girls.
Which is another strange occurrence. I've never been on to give into flights of fantasy, but she is tailor made for daydreams. When I saw her standing in the hallway that first day, all alone and looking around with such a bright gleam in her beautiful eyes, I nearly sank to my knees and praised the Lord for such a chance. I didn't, of course. I wouldn't want to frighten her away before I had the chance to make her my wife.
She said dancing on Bandstand was the best thing that had ever happened to her. It was the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I asked for her phone number. I'll never know how I managed to work up the nerve to do that. Of course I used the excuse of perhaps inviting her back sometime, but in honesty I just really wanted it. I knew I could never use it, at least not for another 2 or 3 years, but Lord knows what will happen in that space of time.
Not that I think I'll find someone else. There is no doubt in my mind that there will never be anyone else for me, but for her…she has her whole life ahead of her. She's at the age where she probably has a different crush every other week. I remember that age. Hell, I still was at that age up until the day I met her.
But all my past…what should I call them?…relationships hardly seems the proper term.
Temporary diversions? No, that sounds shallow. I'd be lying though if I tried to say that my other dates lasted beyond a month.
It's not that I haven't even tried. I've just never been able to find that one special person. Until the day I saw her.
Meg.
My Meg.
I do want to marry her. I will, if she agrees, someday. I don't want to tell her, not right now. She's still so young. I would get in serious trouble for trying to pursue her while she's still underage. Not to mention while she's still a dancer on the show.
So, I guess I'll have to wait. I'll have to wait and go through all the tortures of hell while I watch her fall in love with someone else. I'll have to sit by and watch while he breaks her heart and resist the temptation to ground the idiot's face into the dirt. I'll have to wait for her to grow up, to become the woman I can already see in her, to become the woman that I already love more then I can possibly fathom.
Until that day, I'll spend each week watching her dance, hoping for those few moments when she'll approach me, smile and laugh.
I treasure those moments.
I treasure her.
