Author's Note: Not so much to say. Going to try and finish this as soon as possible. I guess The Island Diaries is on hiatus for a bit (sorry!!!) then. But considering how long you guys have waited around on that, a little while longer will not hurt so very bad. Anyway…

Gina: No problem whatsoever. Glad you liked it!

robtaymattlouned: Thanks! I try not to be too vague… though alas, my chapters are disgustingly short. Le sigh…

liz: Yes, Rushmore is fantastic. And the "Oh, are they?" line is possibly my favorite in the movie! Oh, and also when Bill Murray says "Take dead aim on the rich boys. Get them in the crosshairs and take them down. Just remember, they can buy anything, but they can't buy backbone. Don't let them forget that. Thank you."

MelancholicPolarBear: No, I don't know Jill. I had no idea there was another "supply closet" fic, but obladi, oblada. Coincidence, I guess.

Q: Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom? Why?

Oh, definitely… uh… Man. Okay, I was about to say Orlando there for a second, but then I just remembered that Johnny is well, him. And since I have a longer relationship with the latter, I will say Mr. Depp. Uhthankyou.

Abyssum Abyssus Invocat

Chapter Two: tu sciscitorabisti (you asked)

I jiggle the knob, hoping that what Mia says isn't true, hoping that at the very least, it will have a lock on it for me to pick and get us out of here… It doesn't. It is one of those doors you hear lock pickers complain about. That is, you were to listen in on a lock picker's poker game or, in my case, the regular conversation of two supers out in the hallway or your building.

Out of nowhere, I find myself feeling very happy about the whole situation- being stuck in a closet with Mia and all. I start to feel sick my myself for thinking this though, because I shouldn't be. For one, I should be thinking of a way to get us out of here. And for two, Mia is my little sister's best friend who has absolutely no interest in me, her best friend's geeky, older brother.

But I digress, because I am suddenly struck with what will happen if we are found in here, probably starving and huddled in a corner, holding each other to try and produce body heat. Okay, so maybe that won't happen (that little voice sure has a way of killing my shallow hope). I mean, both of us will be no doubt charged with breaking and entering, let alone looked at pretty suspiciously by our families (who the hell gets locked in a school supply closet at 3:30-something in the morning??).

Seeing as we are stuck in here, probably until Monday, I break the silence. "So, Thermopolis," I say as lightly as possible, careful not to add to the hopeless mood. "How did you find yourself in the school at such an ungodly hour?"

I hear her sigh heavily, and she begins to explain. "Well, I was looking for my journal." I chuckle a little- I can't help it. "I freaked out when I realized I'd left it in here. You know, terrified that someone would find it and read it." She pauses. I know she can't see me in the dark, but I nod for her to go on. "So I squeezed in through the open window and looked around for it. I found it under my desk, just where I had left it during class, thank God." she sighs. "And then when I tried to get back out of the window, it was a bit too high. I was trying to find a stool or something in here, but the door closed, and… Well, you probably know the rest."

I didn't want to ask her why she hadn't just grabbed a chair from one of the desks. Or how, with her pretty great height, she couldn't climb back out of the window. Because really, the girl had gone through enough.

"So how long were you in here before I came?" I asked, hoping I wasn't going to strike a nerve.

"A few hours, probably," she replies. "At first, I kept yelling for someone to help me, but when nobody came, I just… kind of… I cried and tried to sleep." I could tell she was embarrassed about crying over the whole ordeal. I personally couldn't blame her though.

"It's a good thing you were banging on the door when I came by." I added. "Who knows what could have happened…"

"But Michael…" she laughed. "Now both of us are stuck in this damn closet." I was happy she couldn't see me blushing in the dark.

"At least we're not alone." I offered, actually trying to redeem my previous stupidity. A pretty long, awkward silence followed that.

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"You never told me why you were here." Gee, time for more stupidity.

"Oh, well, I uh… I actually like to come here when I can't sleep. It's pretty weird of me."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, Michael, it's not so weird," she said. "I mean, at least you didn't break in because you were afraid someone was going to read your journal." We both laughed uncomfortably- her feelings irrational, and me wondering what intensely private things could be written in there, so as to make her go through with something like this. I sighed heavily and sunk down, slouching against the door.

"So there's no lights in here?" I asked, suddenly aggravated by the darkness.

"Nope, the light bulb must be burnt out. I can't really see anything either, so searching for candles and matches or something seemed kind of pointless. Plus, groping around in the dark before only resulted in me practically knocking over a can of paint thinner." We let out a few stifled laughs.

"Oh," I replied.

"Um… Do you want to help me look for some?" she asked me.

"Huh? Oh, sure." Nice answer, Michael.

"There could be a flashlight in here or something…" she said, half to herself. I could hear her moving on her side of the closet, feeling around for anything useful. "Aha!" A broad circle suddenly illuminated her face. She was smiling- I smiled back.

Author's Note: Sorry for the shortness… and lack of good ending point. Just wanted to get this out to you guys.

have a mahhvelous day

jacki

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