Author's Note: This chapter is short and I apologize. I have school, darn it!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and I'm glad you like my fic. Please continue to read and review, thank you.

Disclaimer: If I owned FOP, I would have seen "The Big Superhero Wish". I still haven't. (I want cable!)

Chapter Four: Strawberry Fields

He awakes with a start. The painted white wooden bench pokes him in the back due to, no doubt, the abnormal curvature of his spine. This makes him wonder how he could ever fall asleep on such an uncomfortable seat and forces him to recall the reason for his visit to the park, only a few blocks away from Turner's house. It also reminds him that he left his wallet on the front seat of his van, so he's broke.

A gross invasion of privacy, he recalls, made him take flight like that and run blindly, not noticing where he went. He had been so fed up with everything and everyone. No matter what, he had to get out of there, although sitting while hunger gnaws at him is no treat either. So, he has to make a choice- remain here, foodless, or swallow his pride and embarrass himself again.

Or none of the above. What is she doing here? Do I have some sort of tracking device on me?

Geraldine Waxelplax isn't particularly pleased to him either. Believe it or not, the rest of her day was as bad as his and she came to let out steam. Her house isn't far from the park, only about a two minute walk and she likes to watch the sunset on the park bench, her bench, the one Crocker sits on right now. Blood boiling, she stands in front of him, ready to hoist hi up and throw him into the nearby bushes. This, like the kid fight, she does not need.

"Get up!" She barks, abandoning all pretenses.

Crocker, who she thinks lives to irritate her, hasn't noticed her. He watches a green squirrel show a whole pile of nuts to a pink squirrel and they chatter happily. They both have crowns above their heads. The time is nigh.

"Fairies!" Crocker calls, ecstatic, and they run off, disappearing into a bush (the park's littered with them).

"No," Geraldine snaps, her patience waning, "it's me. But nice guess." Psycho.

"Huh?" Crocker spins back around to look up at her. She towers above him, her more than ample bosom heaving with anger.

"This is my bench-"; she stops, realizing how petty she's being. All this fuss over a seat? Okay, she had a bad day and he's the cause of it. Perhaps she should put her anger aside and give him a break.

"-and I don't appreciate you sleeping on it." Or maybe not.

Crocker, who hates competition something fierce, but doesn't want to go home, half rises.

"Oh, forget it!" She snaps and sits down. "Move over."

Crocker does, nearly falling off the bench. In his haste, he forgets the bench is only five feet long and she takes up 3/5 of it. This is okay, since he's scrawny, but rather uncomfortable because he wants no part of her and they're squashed together. Oh, well.

"Look!" She exclaims, rising her right arm, hitting Crocker in the face.

Crocker rubs his face, jabbering her in the chest.

Before they know it, they're in an argument which involves a lot of accidental hitting. As they fight, the sun sets and they stop long enough to watch. Her left elbow is in his right socket and his right elbow is in her stomach. Exhausted and battered, they reluctantly call a truce.

Gorgeous pinks and oranges light up the sky, colored like bubble gum and sherbet, making Geraldine's mouth water. The sun sinks slowly, symbolizing the school situation and it immobilizes them, growls germinating from Geraldine, thinking of the greatness of grub. In fact, she's hungry right now...

Crocker sits and doesn't think, just lets the color wash over him. For the first time in his life, he feels calm and secure. He's not hiding anything, pursuing anyone, being heckled; he's lost in the awesome feel of nature. To think, fairies never cross his mind, for a few blissful seconds, he is sane.

This is nice, Crocker thinks, his hand brushing against hers. He doesn't apologize; he doesn't feel the need to. Besides, both are lost in the moment, speaking but neither truly understands what is being said.

After a while, she leaves and he remains. What's curious is that neither recalls the conversation, even when they think about it much later on, yet there is twenty dollar bill where she was.

He doesn't have to go home just yet.