A/N: I'm not sure where he was living in the third season, but let's just
say for the sake of the story that he has a nicely fashioned two-floor
apartment room. Okay, that's kind of like a condo, but remember: he's
'loaded'. Anyway, on with the chapter that sums it all.
Carter went home and changed into his pajamas. They were the same ones. He flopped into bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling.. Or what he thought was the ceiling through the pitch dark. He thought about how he could tell her, how she would react. He thought like a novelist thinking of his next chapter. He couldn't stop thinking. Three times he had rolled over on his face to try and go to sleep, and three times he resumed staring at the ceiling. When he grew to tired to think any more, he dreamt. He would wake up and fall asleep. At about 4:30, he woke and looked at his clock.
"Four? Four what?" he asked himself. He figured he needed some help from a friend in a place he called the medicine cabinet.
He went to his mirror and pulled it open, revealing everything from Band- Aids to shaving cream. He pulled out a bottle and realized he didn't know what it was.. he had forgotten to turn on the light. When he flicked it on, he was blinded for a minute or two, then he read the back of the bottle.
"For adults twelve, over, yada yada, do no exceed, aha! One every four to six hours.. But wouldn't you be sleeping? Oh well, good enough," he took out a little green tablet, put it in his mouth, and sipped some water straight from the faucet. His eyes popped open in reaction to the taste.
"For better sleep? How?" he asked himself as he turned off the light. He still hadn't adjusted to the darkness when he fell into bed and almost immediately fell asleep. He had a late noon shift and only about seven hours to sleep.
When Carter woke up, he was a little disoriented. Not from the gorgeous little sleeping tablet he had taken how long ago, but from where he was. He looked up and saw nothing. How had he fallen into bed again? He fought with the obstruction in front of him to find his hands filled with his blanket. He looked out to see his bedroom door and what? Oh, the foot of the bed. He had gotten into bed backwards. But now he was rested and he felt like he got enough sleep. How long ago did he take that thing? He looked at the clock. A twelve zero nine stared him in the face. When did he start?
"Whoops," Carter said as he recollected the fact that he started at about 12:30.
He got ready and rushed to work.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
It was over. His shift was finally over. Carter sped home while he contemplated some advice he got from Doug (it was either that or contemplate the crap that Anspaugh gave him) and ran to his room with a quickening pace.
He checked the clock, beginning to think about what it would be like if he were obsessive compulsive about time. It was seven. Once again, he had an hour to spare. He changed into his black pajama pants and a gray tee shirt that looked to be too big for him. He set up the VCR with a movie, a classic one for them, and unfolded the flip out bed from the couch. He got some throw pillows and straightened up a bit, then checked his hair. Followed by the clock. Again. It was already eight. He was going to call Laura and tell her to bring comfortable clothes, but something else popped into his mind.
"I think I'm becoming OC," he told himself.
"Great, now I'm talking to myself," he continued.
"Ahh! I'm still talking to myself!"
"Shut up!"
"NOW I'M YELLING AT MYSELF!" He figured he better sit before another voice came into his head.
"Hello?" This was a muffled one.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked.
"Carter? You in there?" came the other voice.
"Whoops. Coming Laura!" He opened the door. She was way ahead of him. She had navy pajama pants and a white tank top.
"You thought I would forget about the pajama thing, didn't you?"
He nodded with embarrassment.
"That's okay. At least you remembered. Anyway, what movie did you get?"
He held up a rental video case. And smiled. He had gotten a copy of The Breakfast Club. {Which, by the way, if you've never seen it, it is a movie about the most stereotypical diverse high school kids ever imagined (The princess, the jock, the nerd, the badass, the quiet nutjob, etc.) all getting detention and being shoved in the library for the entire day, resulting in a certain breakthrough that I will not go into detail with so I don't ruin it for you. Rent it. It's great. But anyway..} She looked at him and laughed. 'Classic,' she thought.
He put in the movie and they watched it, going through what turned out to be two bowls of popcorn once they had started a war at who could throw the most pieces and catch them in their mouth. Before they knew it, the credits were over but the popcorn war was not. Carter finally was fed up with the beating he had taken and threw a piece at Laura. She accompanied that with a comment.
"You know who you remind me of in that movie?" she asked Carter.
"Who, the good-lookin' badass?" he said, imitating a girly swooning tone, making her laugh.
"No, the role that Anthony Michael Hall played."
He frowned. "But he played the nerd!"
She only laughed at her wonderful comment.
"Oh yea?" he shot back, "Well you're like the prissy girl! Yea, the daddy's girl! Oh yea, take that!"
She took those comments offensively, considering she was not prissy. Not one bit. "I take that back.. you remind me of the jock!"
Carter may have played sports, but he did not like being called a jock. He never did. He picked up the pillow he had been laying on and threw it at her. She only threw it back. It wasn't long before they were laughing hysterically (on the floor), pegging each other with pillows and the occasional popcorn kernel. When they had finally stopped laughing and throwing things at each other, finally defining the name "throw" pillow, Carter helped her back onto the couch.
"Sorry about that," Laura said, still laughing.
Carter laughed back, then froze when he suddenly realized again why he was doing all this. They were now sitting with their backs on the back of the couch, smiling at each other.
"Is something wrong?" She asked him.
"Oh, no. Nothing," he told her.
"You're lying. I can tell. You're pretty good, but I can still tell. What's the matter?"
"Nothing, really." He was telling the truth. Nothing was wrong. He was perfectly fine. There was a problem, he couldn't tell her something that needed to be said, but nothing was wrong. The moment couldn't be any more perfect.
'Wait a minute,' he thought using his inner monologue. 'This moment is perfect, and I'm not seizing the moment! Okay, calm down. Take this one thing for granted.' He thought to himself, but for some reason he was paranoid that she could hear him. She couldn't. 'Go for it,' he reassured himself.
"Carter?" she asked. She stopped trying to get his attention when he locked eyes with her.
Neither of them had noticed until now that Carter had put an arm around Laura. They sat there, looking into each other's brown, true eyes, and stared. With no warning, Carter slowly moved closer to her. She hadn't noticed until now how, well, cute he was to her. She hadn't noticed he was moving either.
And with that, and no thought whatsoever, they figured it out. The door had opened to them, and they finally realized that they had loved each other all these years. Carter suddenly stopped, and they looked into each other's eyes again and smiled. They sat quietly for a few minutes. They felt like something had happened, but all that really had was that they stared at each other, figuring each other out.
And then it happened. It was the best moment that either of them had had together in a long time. He finally did it. He leaned forward and kissed her, and she gave into it. Carter backed away slowly, smiling, and she smiled back. They leaned back on the couch, Carter still with his arm around her, and she put her head on his shoulder. And there they stayed.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`* Well, I guess that's it. I hope you enjoyed it, but since this was my first fic (On Fanfiction, that is) I would like some feedback.
Carter went home and changed into his pajamas. They were the same ones. He flopped into bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling.. Or what he thought was the ceiling through the pitch dark. He thought about how he could tell her, how she would react. He thought like a novelist thinking of his next chapter. He couldn't stop thinking. Three times he had rolled over on his face to try and go to sleep, and three times he resumed staring at the ceiling. When he grew to tired to think any more, he dreamt. He would wake up and fall asleep. At about 4:30, he woke and looked at his clock.
"Four? Four what?" he asked himself. He figured he needed some help from a friend in a place he called the medicine cabinet.
He went to his mirror and pulled it open, revealing everything from Band- Aids to shaving cream. He pulled out a bottle and realized he didn't know what it was.. he had forgotten to turn on the light. When he flicked it on, he was blinded for a minute or two, then he read the back of the bottle.
"For adults twelve, over, yada yada, do no exceed, aha! One every four to six hours.. But wouldn't you be sleeping? Oh well, good enough," he took out a little green tablet, put it in his mouth, and sipped some water straight from the faucet. His eyes popped open in reaction to the taste.
"For better sleep? How?" he asked himself as he turned off the light. He still hadn't adjusted to the darkness when he fell into bed and almost immediately fell asleep. He had a late noon shift and only about seven hours to sleep.
When Carter woke up, he was a little disoriented. Not from the gorgeous little sleeping tablet he had taken how long ago, but from where he was. He looked up and saw nothing. How had he fallen into bed again? He fought with the obstruction in front of him to find his hands filled with his blanket. He looked out to see his bedroom door and what? Oh, the foot of the bed. He had gotten into bed backwards. But now he was rested and he felt like he got enough sleep. How long ago did he take that thing? He looked at the clock. A twelve zero nine stared him in the face. When did he start?
"Whoops," Carter said as he recollected the fact that he started at about 12:30.
He got ready and rushed to work.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
It was over. His shift was finally over. Carter sped home while he contemplated some advice he got from Doug (it was either that or contemplate the crap that Anspaugh gave him) and ran to his room with a quickening pace.
He checked the clock, beginning to think about what it would be like if he were obsessive compulsive about time. It was seven. Once again, he had an hour to spare. He changed into his black pajama pants and a gray tee shirt that looked to be too big for him. He set up the VCR with a movie, a classic one for them, and unfolded the flip out bed from the couch. He got some throw pillows and straightened up a bit, then checked his hair. Followed by the clock. Again. It was already eight. He was going to call Laura and tell her to bring comfortable clothes, but something else popped into his mind.
"I think I'm becoming OC," he told himself.
"Great, now I'm talking to myself," he continued.
"Ahh! I'm still talking to myself!"
"Shut up!"
"NOW I'M YELLING AT MYSELF!" He figured he better sit before another voice came into his head.
"Hello?" This was a muffled one.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked.
"Carter? You in there?" came the other voice.
"Whoops. Coming Laura!" He opened the door. She was way ahead of him. She had navy pajama pants and a white tank top.
"You thought I would forget about the pajama thing, didn't you?"
He nodded with embarrassment.
"That's okay. At least you remembered. Anyway, what movie did you get?"
He held up a rental video case. And smiled. He had gotten a copy of The Breakfast Club. {Which, by the way, if you've never seen it, it is a movie about the most stereotypical diverse high school kids ever imagined (The princess, the jock, the nerd, the badass, the quiet nutjob, etc.) all getting detention and being shoved in the library for the entire day, resulting in a certain breakthrough that I will not go into detail with so I don't ruin it for you. Rent it. It's great. But anyway..} She looked at him and laughed. 'Classic,' she thought.
He put in the movie and they watched it, going through what turned out to be two bowls of popcorn once they had started a war at who could throw the most pieces and catch them in their mouth. Before they knew it, the credits were over but the popcorn war was not. Carter finally was fed up with the beating he had taken and threw a piece at Laura. She accompanied that with a comment.
"You know who you remind me of in that movie?" she asked Carter.
"Who, the good-lookin' badass?" he said, imitating a girly swooning tone, making her laugh.
"No, the role that Anthony Michael Hall played."
He frowned. "But he played the nerd!"
She only laughed at her wonderful comment.
"Oh yea?" he shot back, "Well you're like the prissy girl! Yea, the daddy's girl! Oh yea, take that!"
She took those comments offensively, considering she was not prissy. Not one bit. "I take that back.. you remind me of the jock!"
Carter may have played sports, but he did not like being called a jock. He never did. He picked up the pillow he had been laying on and threw it at her. She only threw it back. It wasn't long before they were laughing hysterically (on the floor), pegging each other with pillows and the occasional popcorn kernel. When they had finally stopped laughing and throwing things at each other, finally defining the name "throw" pillow, Carter helped her back onto the couch.
"Sorry about that," Laura said, still laughing.
Carter laughed back, then froze when he suddenly realized again why he was doing all this. They were now sitting with their backs on the back of the couch, smiling at each other.
"Is something wrong?" She asked him.
"Oh, no. Nothing," he told her.
"You're lying. I can tell. You're pretty good, but I can still tell. What's the matter?"
"Nothing, really." He was telling the truth. Nothing was wrong. He was perfectly fine. There was a problem, he couldn't tell her something that needed to be said, but nothing was wrong. The moment couldn't be any more perfect.
'Wait a minute,' he thought using his inner monologue. 'This moment is perfect, and I'm not seizing the moment! Okay, calm down. Take this one thing for granted.' He thought to himself, but for some reason he was paranoid that she could hear him. She couldn't. 'Go for it,' he reassured himself.
"Carter?" she asked. She stopped trying to get his attention when he locked eyes with her.
Neither of them had noticed until now that Carter had put an arm around Laura. They sat there, looking into each other's brown, true eyes, and stared. With no warning, Carter slowly moved closer to her. She hadn't noticed until now how, well, cute he was to her. She hadn't noticed he was moving either.
And with that, and no thought whatsoever, they figured it out. The door had opened to them, and they finally realized that they had loved each other all these years. Carter suddenly stopped, and they looked into each other's eyes again and smiled. They sat quietly for a few minutes. They felt like something had happened, but all that really had was that they stared at each other, figuring each other out.
And then it happened. It was the best moment that either of them had had together in a long time. He finally did it. He leaned forward and kissed her, and she gave into it. Carter backed away slowly, smiling, and she smiled back. They leaned back on the couch, Carter still with his arm around her, and she put her head on his shoulder. And there they stayed.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`* Well, I guess that's it. I hope you enjoyed it, but since this was my first fic (On Fanfiction, that is) I would like some feedback.