Stepping in from the hammering rain, veins of water wove over his features like translucent veins, pumping away his apprehension. His senses were heightened by the girl in front of him, her sparkling smile, her blush and its warm reds' contrast to the dripping fire of her hair. She stepped backwards as he emerged from the wall of the downpour, his eye lashes having collected a fair amount of miniscule droplets, he blinked and shook his head, shaggy hair left to fall in the disarray he managed everyday with attractive consistency. The stray liquid weighted hairs fell lifelessly to his face and she stepped in to his personal space again, the invasion was met by speechless capitulation. She brought her hand to his face, tilting it upwards, tearing his shy eyes away from the safety of the floor.

She was ready for the rejection, for him to utter her name and pull away, fall back into the rain, choose the cold harsh outside over the war acceptance she offered him. What took her by surprise was his face moving into her caress, his cold damp cheek tasting the warmth she offered and wanting more. She didn't know what to do, what if anything to say. It had always pained her that when he threw her back, when he sent her home in tears he looked like he'd just died inside. How could the pain he was obviously reeling from be better than being with her? Every time she saw him he looked terrible, and it wasn't like he had another girl he was with or wanted, it was just like he was drowning, and wouldn't accept the hand of salvation she ever so readily offered him.

Her breathing was suddenly hinting at ragged, and his consciousness seemed to be flickering as her thumb brushed down his cheek, and the moved to brush away the random hair which had appeared near his eye after he rustled his head to remove the moisture. Pulling her hand away tentatively he looked up at her and they both knew that it was uncharted territory from here on. Mary Jane knew that he had never let her get this close to him with him running for his life, and Peter was melting away.

He knew what he had just done, and he knew what she had just pulled away from. He had actually just blacked out when she touched him, just going with the lapse of sense that her touch afflicted him with. For so long he had tried to stay away, longer than that he had denied her, denied himself the one thing that made sense, the only thing that made him feel like part of the human race. The rest of his time was spent being cursed by the public, shot at by police and pulverised by cretins with agendas involving his head on a stick. Even his social, wait, excuse for a social life was spent avoiding the landlord, being shouted at by JJ, having his best friend shun him for something he had no idea about. The only thing that ever went right in his life was here, she was right in front of him, with him, standing inches away just to be with him.

The guy behind MJ was the last person to be let in and Peter noticed, giving a slight nod with his head in the direction of the door and MJ turned her head to catch his meaning out the corner of her eye. Turning back her green eyes spoke volumes of her un-willingness to move from the spot she occupied, her fear that once she moved that he would fall out of her dream, the one she had been rudely awoken from without him. This time she knew it was real, knew he was here and hadn't ran, but the thought of him doing so now hurt more than ever. Her hand again had the shock of his touch, and she looked down to see he had taken it with his own, despite her plan, her hopes, now she had taken the back seat, now it was time to see where he would take her.

"Lead the way Tiger"

>>>Thank you for your reviews, they are the fuel that keeps me rolling on! I know the short chapters are a tease, but it keeps me regular! Any Dark Angel fans check out my other story, and please let me know what you think of this so far! Back soon!