Sticky Mouths Make Sticky Kisses

Summary: Short, fluffy L/G ficlet. Lizzie's sick, Gordo's at the carnival, and brings her some cotton candy afterwards. Things get a bit sticky between the two. Slight AU: no movie. Cute and to the point, with major L/G. R&R please. Tell me if I should continue.

A/N 1: THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU so much for all of the reviews. I feel bad, not updating in so long after you guys were absolutely amazing with the feedback. In compensation I swear to get the fourth chapter out within the next week. Now that school is out (and almost here! Only thirty-eight or so more days! AHH!) I have LOTS of free time, which I will use to work on this.

**Information on the beta-reader in A/N 2

I, Miranda Sanchez, vow to get my two best friends together no matter what it takes on my part. I thought for sure that when Lizzie called me that morning at four AM, explaining that she couldn't sleep and why, that that would be it—their feelings would be out in the open without any of my meddling. Yet somehow, and I'm surprised I didn't suspect it happening from the beginning, their naïveté and self-consciousness towards each other had made even a kiss like that into nothing. I love Lizzie and Gordo, I truly do, but sometimes I thought about just locking them in a closet and threatening to not let them out until they both knew the truth. The whole truth.

So this was where we were left—Gordo sick, Lizzie more nervous than she ever was around Ethan Craft, and me trying to release my annoyance as I waited for the popcorn. It was a sticky situation.

Ding. I pulled the popcorn out and poured it into a bowl, snacking on it as I made my way upstairs. I stopped outside the closed door, trying to listen on to any conversation.

Dead silence.

It was hard to believe that two people who had known each other for thirteen years could find nothing to talk about. I walked in and they both seemed relieved to see me; Gordo had been pretending—for I sure as hell knew he wasn't getting any rest with Lizzie in the same room—to doze off, while Lizzie was otherwise busy reading the back cover of the chosen movie. Lizzie isn't the brightest bulb in the bunch, but it doesn't take her five minutes to read a single paragraph.

"Miss me?" I asked cheerfully. Fortunately they missed the sarcasm.

"Yes," they both answered quickly.

"I picked Two Weeks Notice." Lizzie crawled over to the VCR and popped the tape in.

Romantic comedy. Interesting. I was almost positive that Gordo had had no say in what movie we would be watching, probably because he more than likely hadn't said anything at all. So that meant that either Lizzie wasn't aware of the awkwardness that the romance could cause, or chose to ignore it; a desperate attempt to bring things back to normal, back to how they were before yesterday.

I hopped into bed next to Gordo, as Lizzie and I always did when watching movies at his house. I made sure there was no room on my side, so that she would have no choice but to sit on the other side, right next to him. But maybe I was wrong about the brightest bulb thing. Without so much as a glance at Gordo, the bed, or me, she sat down on the floor.

"Lizzie, what are you doing?" I asked bluntly.

From the side of her face that I could barely see in the dark, she blushed deeply. "Exactly what you're doing. Watching the movie."

"No, what you are doing is sitting on the floor, when you should be sitting up here with us. Now c'mon."

I noticed that Gordo was as stiff as a board. I didn't think he was even breathing.

"Thanks, but I'm comfy where I'm at." Her eyes were glued to the screen.

Did I mention I'm not known for my patience? "Enough is enough," I growled. I shoved the bowl of popcorn at Gordo, jumped down from the bed, and dragged Lizzie through the nearest possible door so I could either a) strangle her or b) sneer:

"Lizzie!"

"Miranda, why are we in the closet?" Lizzie said, choosing to ignore Choice B.

I noticed then that we were, and it was unmistakably Gordo's closet. I think he was the only fifteen-year-old boy in America who had a reasonably neat closet that didn't smell like moldy old socks. Probably because his mother washed and color-coded them everyday.

"We're in here, Liz, so you can get your head on straight and tell Gordo you love him!" I was still speaking in that low, hissing voice.

Lizzie gaped at me. "Miranda, are you nuts? Like, yeah. Love? I'm a teenager! I never said anything about loving him."

I took a deep breath. I don't think Lizzie would have handled my Spanish rambling as well as Gordo did. "Fine, Lizzie, just like. But seriously, you liking Gordo is more well-known than the sky being blue. Gordo and you seem to be the only two who don't seem to understand that!"

Lizzie sighed impatiently. It was a warm night to begin with and the space we were stuffed into was cramped, with pointed pieces of bureaus and shelves poking us. I may have been a bit more happy if it were Gordo in here instead of me, as I had said earlier, and they were poetically proclaiming their newfound love. Or at least kissing.

"I understand it perfectly. Didn't we just have this talk outside his bedroom? I am not the problem! Gordo is—"

"Gordo is what?"

The closet doors were open, and Gordo was standing—however unstable—in front of the glow of the TV, giving him a slightly eerie look.

"Uh…Very sick!" I hastily mended, pushing him towards his bed. "What are you doing up? Don't move! You'll vomit!"

"What's with all the whispering? Why were you two in the closet? What's going on?" Gordo demanded, refusing to move despite how green he suddenly looked.

"Lizzie was upset," I lied.

Gordo gave me a look—that look that meant he knew I wasn't telling the truth. "About what?" he said slowly.

"About—about missing the movie! She was upset that she was missing the movie!" I told him, as if Lizzie weren't standing there looking paler than usual.

"Then why didn't she just come out of my closet and watch the movie?" Gordo looked over at Lizzie now, who promptly looked down at her feet.

"Good idea!" I exclaimed a little louder than necessary. "Let's all watch the movie and forget we ever interrupted. Sound okay?"

Lizzie nodded mutely and laid down on the right side of the bed, back leaning against the pillows propped on the headboard. Gordo nodded, too, and being the sick one, climbed under the covers. Right in the middle. Right next to Lizzie.

I hid a smile. Maybe we were getting somewhere after all.

It was a disaster. Halfway through, before we could even reach the romantic part, Gordo decided he couldn't keep his saltine crackers down, and ran to the bathroom to puke them up. Lizzie, also deciding she wasn't quite better yet, threw up in the sink when she tried to help Gordo up from the toilet and saw its contents.

That left me to first rinse out the sink and flush the toilet, but to also help my friends wash out their mouths and brush their teeth. Parents can be annoying, but I hoped for the sake of the sick ones and myself (I wasn't willing to see anymore regurgitated food) that they would be back soon from wherever they happened to be.

Lizzie assured us she was fine, and after a few more splashes of water to the face, was holding a wet rag to Gordo's forehead while I was downstairs making him some hot tea.

So Plan A: Getting Them to Speak to Each Other didn't work as well as I hoped it would, if at all, seeing as Gordo couldn't open his mouth without letting out a bit more than just words.

Well…What would Plan B be?

"Miranda!"

I looked up; Lizzie was standing at the top of the stairs.

"You've been down there forever. Isn't the tea ready yet?"

"Coming, coming," I mumbled, putting the teabag in the warm mug and carrying it up to Gordo's bedroom.

Lizzie was sitting on the edge of the bed, and this time it seemed as though Gordo truthfully was falling asleep. I placed the drink on the bedside table for later. "I guess this makes me the cook."

"This is all your fault, you know," Lizzie said. She still looked pale. "If you had just butt out—"

I stared at her as if she were crazy. "Butt out? You were the one who called me! And I'm just trying to help, Lizzie."

"Helping is not forcing my feelings on him." She jerked her head towards the sleeping Gordo.

"Forcing your feelings on him?" I was in disbelief.

"Stop repeating me!"

"Stop acting so childish!"

"Stop trying to get Gordo to like me!"

Could she honestly think that he didn't like her? What about Ethan's Murder Mystery Party over a year ago? The way she had told it to me, she had gotten it through her head loud and clear that Gordo had a crush on her. I knew she couldn't forget something like I that.

"Lizzie, are you being modest or just stupid? If Gordo doesn't like you then I'm a famous pop star."

Lily groaned, turning away. I knew Lizzie long enough to know her inner struggle: How could Gordo like me of all people? "If…if he liked me then why did he practically run out of my room yesterday?"

"He was scared," I said simply. It was probably the truth. "Lizzie, you remember how obsessed we were with Ethan in junior high? Well, imagine you going over his house and he suddenly kissed you. Would you sit there and giggle?"

"Well…no," she admitted.

"Exactly. Give Gordo a chance. He'll come around."

Lizzie looked over at Gordo and nodded, pushing her bangs away from her face. "Yeah. Maybe. Anyway, I think we should go," she suggested. "He should get some sleep."

I agreed. We gathered our bags and raincoats, turned the TV off and pushed Gordo's puke bucket closer to the bed, incase it was desperately needed when he woke up.

As Lizzie and I left, I had to fight very hard not to grin, scream, dance around in the rain—I wasn't stupid. Gordo, obviously, was.

"Liz, wait," I said suddenly, just as she was about to open the front door. "I left my cell phone in Gordo's room. Let me go grab it."

I ran up the stairs and opened the door slowly. Gordo's eyes were still closed.

"Mr. Gordon, although I don't approve of your eavesdropping or fake sleeping, I have to say that the ball's in your court now, so don't miss your chance."

He still didn't move, although I was almost sure the ends of his mouth were higher than they had been a moment ago.

"And just for the record," I continued, "sick or not, don't pretend as if you aren't the happiest boy in America right now."

I joined Lizzie again and smiled secretively, choosing to quote my sick best friend. "All systems go."

A/N 2: YAY! I'M DONE! Okay, I know I said this would be the last chapter, but there's only one more after this. This was also the last chapter that begins with "I, (insert name), vow to (insert verb)." *sniff* I'm going to miss this story.

About the beta-reader: Thank you to everyone who emailed me. I got almost two dozen responses and I appreciated them all. Unfortunately, before I was able to sort through them, I left for vacation. Stupidly, I forgot that AOL only keeps my read email for only seven days before deleting it. When I got back, the emails were gone and so I have no one to choose from. I'm so sorry to be asking again, but if you would like to be my beta-reader, please email me at Mandi88139@aol.com. I won't make the same stupid mistake again! Thank you! :)

Mango Tango Kangaroo,

Loozie Gordork (Mandi)