Kissing Michael

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making money.

Rating: PG, Meg's POV

I don't know how it happened. I mean, its not like I planned it. It's not even like I thought about it happening. I didn't…I swear…Never!

Sure, I always thought he was cute and all.

Ok, ok, I thought he was more then cute.

Cute is a term used for my little brother and the boys on the Baseball team at school. Cute is the sweater my Mother gave me for my last Birthday. That was last year, this is this year, and I don't believe I've ever received a Birthday present like the one I got tonight.

All regulars get a special cake on their Birthday. Never very big, and the frosting is really too sweet for my taste. Everyone sings 'Happy Birthday' and you get to blow out the single candle. They will announce you Birthday on the air and you have to smile and wave at the camera. That's about it, at least, that's the way it was for everyone else.

I've been staying after the show for about an hour longer for the last few weeks, helping Michael put together a 'Memory Lane' theme program. He didn't really ask for my help, just sort of pulled me into it.

I went there to ask him about Roxanne. I didn't want too, she begged me. I didn't for a moment think he was interested in her. Not that he couldn't be, or wouldn't be. I mean, lots of guys are interested in Roxanne, but he… he's just so much older.

Not OLD old, he's only 21, a lot younger then I originally thought. He seems much maturer then his age would suggest. A lot more mature then my uncle, that's for sure…either one of them!

At first he thought I was talking about myself. He said he thought it was nice. I was quick to correct him. He seemed to become distracted after I told him it wasn't me who had the crush on him. He gave me a vague story about there being someone in his life, and that it was becoming serious. Then he pulled me down beside him and had me start going through old show clips with him, completely changing the subject without another word said about it.

I found myself enjoying the project, and looked forward each week to go up to the production room to help him put the show together. He tells me I'm real good at it, the whole production and direction thing. He says I may have a future there. Who knows, perhaps I do?

We talked a lot while we worked. He asked me all about my family and school. He told me a lot about himself, too. How he also started out as a Bandstand regular, and when he turned 18 he got a job on the production crew and moved up pretty quickly. I said it was no wonder, he was a great director.

"I think you're great too, Meg."

He said that just before I left on that night. I was speechless. I didn't know what to say.

Jimmy said he thought I was great. So did Luke. But somehow it sounded different coming from Michael.

I didn't really notice any change in the way I thought about him. I admired him, was still grateful to him for giving me the chance to be a regular, for letting me help him do the special show. I liked him, but I didn't think it was anything more then friendship and gratitude.

And then I went out with Jimmy again. Something he said that night at the drive-in stuck in my mind. He said Michael was a big fan of mine.

A fan? Of mine? What did Jimmy mean by that?

Then I got together with Luke. I thought that was what I wanted. I like Luke so much, but we don't like any of the same things; and sometimes…sometimes he talks to me like he thinks I'm dumb. He thinks the music I like is dumb, that the fact I dance on Bandstand is dumb…etc.

Roxanne says I should go out with him because he's cute. Well, sure, but is that really a reason to have a relationship with someone?

These where the thoughts going through my mind just this night, the night before my official Birthday, the night me and Michael put the final touches on the 'Memory Lane' show.

He smiled at me and said how pleased he was with the final product. I like his smile. It's kind of funny. I've never seen him smile with his mouth open. It's always this little, one sided grin, the mouth closed. But I can see the smile in his eyes. They shine. He really does have nice eyes.

As I was getting ready to leave I heard him clear his throat behind me.

"Meg?"

I turned and saw him standing by the television monitors. He was shuffling from one foot to another in an obvious display of nervousness. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It made him look so funny, and I really had no idea why he would be nervous, and confusion always makes me laugh.

He was holding a little white box, and was turning it over and over in his hands.

"I…I know it's your Birthday tomorrow." He said.

"I know." This time I did laugh. "You did help everyone sing 'Happy Birthday' to me."

He smiled. A real smile. His lips parted and I saw two rows of even, white teeth. Those nice eyes crinkled up at the corners. There was a dimple in his left cheek.

I've heard that saying before; you know, the one about a smile that could stop traffic. I really don't know about traffic, but I think Michael's smile managed to stop my heart.

"I know I'm not supposed to do this." He said with that heart-stopping smile still on his face. "But, if it helps, don't think of this as a Birthday present. Call it a thank you gift, for helping me out with the show."

He held out the little white box to me. I could see that his hand was shaking slightly.

"You don't have to give me anything." I said, but reached for the box anyway. The tips of my fingers touched him for a moment before he let go.

"I wanted to." He shrugged. "You worked so hard."

"I had fun." I really did. I never thought such hard work could be so much fun.

"So did I."

I returned his smile as I opened the box. " Oh." I reached into the box and pulled out the small gold charm shaped like a record. It was hanging from a delicate gold chain. "It's beautiful."

He came close and took the chain from my hand. He reached around behind my neck and closed the clasp. The little gold record fell down to rest next to my cross.

"I love it." I said, fingering the charm. "Thank you."

I'll never forget what happened next. He was standing there, so close to me with his full smile spread over his face. I merely meant to place a chaste kiss on his cheek, near that adorable little dimple.

But, as my brother JJ always tells me, my aim is terrible. My lips missed their mark by a couple of inches to the right, landing near the corner of his mouth.

I could have died of embarrassment right then and there.

I heard Michael's quick intake of breath, and then his head turned so that his lips touched mine.

At that point I think every logical thought left my head. I leaned forward and placed my hands on his shoulders.

His hands, which still had been holding onto the chain, cupped the back of my head. His mouth moved slowly over mine. It was like he was testing me, tasting me.

I felt his mouth pull at my bottom lip, and my mouth parted. I gasped with both surprise and pleasure at the feel on his tongue darting into my mouth.

A shock wave spread through me and as though my body had a mind of its own, I grasped him shoulders and pulled him even closer.

It was like no other kiss I've ever had. When Jimmy kissed me, I compared it to the song 'He's so fine'. Luke's made me hear 'Out of my Head'.

Michael's kiss caused me to hear a kind of music that I didn't know, but a kind of music I never wanted to stop listening too.

Guitars, drums, violins. Jerry Lee Louis was banging on piano keys. I had a full-fledged orchestra playing in my mind. I heard a moan and realized with shock that it came from deep within my own throat.

That moan seemed to bring Michael to his senses, because he suddenly stopped the kiss and back away.

"Oh God, what am I doing?" He ran his hands over his short hair. "Meg, I'm so sorry. I'm…I didn't…I don't know what came over me." He looked like he was about to pass out, and I felt disappointed that he didn't get the same feeling from the kiss that I did. I was stunned by the intense feelings that kiss brought out in me.

"I'm so sorry." He repeated.

"Don't be." I took a step toward him, but he backed away from me, like he was afraid.

Afraid of what? Me? What could I possibly do to him?

"I should be." He said. "I should be, and I am." He muttered a curse word that I hand only heard used after my father had accidentally hit his thumb with a hammer while aiming for a nail in the wall. "Meg, please, just go. Go home." He turned away from me then, like he couldn't stand looking at me anymore.

I felt my eyes start to water, and without another word I grabbed my coat and left. I didn't look back, didn't let the tears fall until I was seated on the bus and heading home.

My fingers reached up to touch my lips. They still tingled from the feel of Michael's lips on them. He had kissed me like he wanted too, like he had been waiting to do that for so long.

So why had he acted like his did afterwards?

My God, I don't know what to do. I'm so confused right now, but I don't feel like laughing. I want to cry. I want to cry until I can't anyone.

I want…I want to kiss him again!