I was going to post this tomorrow, but I decided, hey, why the hell not post it now. I'm working on Chapter 14 now, so I might get it up over the weekend. BUT you all have to review bunches for me.

Summary: (Partially AU) Jessica Mastriani - the well-known Lightning Girl - is waiting. Waiting for her savior - her knight in shining armor you could say. She isn't known for her patience, but for this one thing, she'll have to wait. Wait patiently.

Disclaimer: I wish I could say that I owned the 1-800 characters, but, sadly, I do not. The Almighty Meg Cabot does.

Waiting Patiently

Chapter 13

Rob's POV

Okay, so I was disappointed when she cancelled on me. She sounded sincere enough over the phone, though. There was nothing I could really do about it anyway.

But . . . her Great Aunt Rose? She never mentioned anything about her before. Well, she did not really sound . . . enthused that she was there, so I cannot really blame her if she didn't mention her.

The thing is, though, I just needed something to take my mind off of the whole court thing. And, well, she was the one to do it.

I was stressed out. Really stressed out.

What if the evidence she had did not pull through? Would I get a restraining order — or, worse, sue me? I don't really think I could take that. Not to mention, my probation officer would freak. They would extend my probation for at least another year.

No, wait. I was eighteen. I would probably be doing some jail time if the judge was cruel enough. Hopefully that would never happen. Probation was bad enough, but going to the big house?

Not my idea of a picnic, let me tell you.

So I just settled for going to work. Nothing like working on a car to take your mind off of things.

Jess's POV

Allan and Jill exchanged glances. Allan was the one who spoke. "Jessica, we are not obligated to interfere in something like that."

I grimaced. "Fine." I grabbed the door handle and opened the door. "Suit yourself," I said, ready to hop out.

But Jill's voice stopped me. "Okay," she said. "What do you want us to do?"

All the while, Allan was giving her a death glare. I guess he didn't really want to give in that early. Oh, well.

I grinned slyly. I shut the door and sat back down on the seat. "Well . . ." I trailed off. I all ready had this planned out in my head. "I need you guys to get some tapes for me. As evidence."

Allan looked appalled. "We cannot do that, Jessica. We aren't supposed to use our badges as—— "

"Well, then, I suppose I'll be going."

Allan heaved a sigh. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "What is this about anyway?"

I told him what happened. Everything from the party to the court date. Well, except that I slept in the same bed as Rob. I don' really think they needed to hear that.

A look of sympathy crossed Jill's face. "Oh, Jess, that must have been horrible . . ."

I didn't need her sympathy right now. I needed her to do her job. "It was," I said shortly. "But what might happen to Rob could be even worse if you two don't do anything about it."

They exchanged looks again. They seemed to give in. "What's the address?" Allan asked unenthusiastically.

I smiled to myself as I rattled off the address.

- § -

"Excuse me?"

"Sir, we're FBI agents." Allan and Jill both took their badges out and showed the man standing in the doorway.

He sniffed. "I don't care who you are. You aren't coming in my house!" And he was about to shut the door right in their face.

I, of course, was standing behind Special Agents Johnson and Smith. They told me to wait in the van, but I didn't listen. What else is new?

"Sir." Allan's voice was becoming hard. "There was a crime committed in your home. We need to see some tapes from a certain night."

I glanced inside and saw the daughter nervously sitting on the couch. I'm guessing her parents hadn't known about that party she threw.

"What night?" he interjected.

"21st of November," Special Agent Smith said defiantly.

The father looked shocked for a moment. "But my wife and I were out of town that night. Nothing could have hap—" He broke off and looked at his daughter, who cowered in fear on the sofa.

He was getting angrier by the moment. "Come in," he finally said, realizing what had gone down.

His wife led us the room where the tapes were held. Coincidentally, it was the same room that I had been in that night. "Feel free to look through them," she said, and walked off.

I could hear the dad yelling at his daughter downstairs. "YOU THREW A PARTY!" he bellowed.

I guess he'll never trust her again. Too bad it was my fault she was busted. I felt kind of bad.

But I had to do this.

Jill found the tapes from that night. We found the one marked "office" and slipped it in the VCR.

Everything was on it. Rob and I talking, then . . . then Kevin hurting me. Jill gasped and looked at me. Allan was looking away. I guess he really didn't fancy seeing a seventeen year old girl being assaulted. If I was him I wouldn't really like seeing that either.

Jill was looking at me with sorrow in her eyes. "I - I had no idea, Jess. I'm so sorry . . ."

I didn't need sympathy from them. I just needed to show these tapes to Rob and to the cops down at the station. Maybe then it would be enough evidence.

"Don't worry about it," I said, even though I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I hadn't realized that it affected me that much until seeing it from another point of view. "Can we go now?"

Allan nodded and we walked downstairs and out the door, briefly thanking the parents.

Once we were back in the van, Allan pounced on me. Not literally, of course. "Jessica, here's the picture of the man we asked you to find last night." I looked at him. There was no emotion showing on his face whatsoever.

I sighed and took it. "Thanks," I said, really meaning it. If it hadn't been for my stupid ability, I probably would have never gotten a hold of those tapes.

A smile broke out on his face. Not a big one, but it was there. "Your welcome," he said.

And I stared, dumbfounded, at the back of his chair after he turned around.

They dropped me off at my house and drove away, their work done. By the time I got home, Aunt Rose and my parents were there, as were Douglas and Mike.

Douglas was walking past the front door when I walked in. "Woah," he said when he saw me. "Where have you been?" His gaze flickered to the tape in my hands. "And what's that?"

I blushed, for reasons beyond me. "Nowhere and nothing," I said and went to run up the stairs.

"Not so fast," he said and ripped the tape from my hands.

Oh, no. I reached to grab the tape, but he was so much taller than I was. "Give it back, Douglas," I said.

"What is it?" he said. He looked at the label. "Office?"

I smacked his head, which made him drop the tape. I caught it and ran up the stairs. I put it in a safe place in my room, so no one else would find it.

Then I went back downstairs and into the kitchen, where my parents were talking. My dad saw me come in first and smiled. "Hi, Jess," he said. "Go talk to Aunt Rose."

Inside I cringed. Save me.

I walked into the dining room and there was Great Aunt Rose in all her glory. Or...not.

"Jessica!" she exclaimed and came up and hugged me. Even I, at 5'4", was taller than her. I felt really tall compared to her.

She had me in a death hug. I desperately wanted to get out, but she wouldn't let me. Luckily, though, Douglas saw my struggle, since he called her name. She let me go and went to talk to him.

Saved by Douglas, once again.

- § -

We all sat down for dinner. It was a special dinner, since Great Aunt Rose was here. Not that she was that special or anything — to me at least.

After we were done with the ham my mom made, my dad cleared the plates and went to go get dessert. That was when Aunt Rose turned to me and said, "So, Jessica, do you have a boyfriend yet?"

My mom choked on her wine. She looked at me.

I looked back at Aunt Rose and smiled sweetly. "Why, yes, I do, actually."

"Well, why isn't he here eating with us, then?" she cried.

"He has other plans for tonight, Aunt Rose. Anyway, there are enough people here all ready, aren't there, Mom?" I asked, turning to face her.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Yes, there are. One more person would be too many."

Sitting back in my chair, I rolled my eyes. Aunt Rose was still talking. "Oh, I want to meet him, honey. Why don't you invite him over right now, for dessert?"

"I'm sure my mother wouldn't like that, Aunt Rose," I replied glumly.

Aunt Rose took her attention off of me and riveted her gaze to my mom. "Why not, Toni? Is he not a nice boy?"

"Oh, Rose, he's . . . nice. He's just . . . not from the right part of town," she answered nonchalantly.

That was it.

"Right part of town? What is the right part of town, Mom?" I seethed.

Where was Dad anyway?

"Jessie, honey, don't get mad. I didn't mean it like that . . ."

"Then how did you mean it, Mom? Because the way it sounded to me was that you don't like people from the less wealthy part of town."

"Honey——" But she didn't get to finish her statement, because I was out of my chair and running up the stairs to my room.

I heard my dad come out of the kitchen downstairs. "Toni, what did you do now?"

I laughed to myself, but the tears rolling down my cheeks did not stop.

Yes, Jessica Mastriani was crying.

Don't rub it in.

Rob's POV

"Where are you?" I asked, slightly scared.

Her answer was a little choked, like she had been crying. "At the park. The one that we——"

"Okay," I cut her off, "I'll be there in a few minutes." I was about to hang up. But I added, "And be careful." Then I hung up.

I threw on my jacket and bolted out the door.

What the hell was going on? Why was she crying? I mean, I knew girls cried and all, but Jess never cried. I have never seen or heard her cry once, except that time at the party, but those tears were well worth it.

I was just really confused.

Starting my bike, I took my helmet out and shoved it on my head. Then I drove off, headed in the direction of the park.

And there she was, sitting on the swings, kicking the dirt up beneath her feet.

It was dark out — and pretty cold. She was only in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans; she was probably freezing.

I parked my bike on the black top and took my helmet off. Walking toward her, I thought about how crazy everything has been. We just never got a break, did we?

I went and sat on the swing next to her and touched her hand. She was freezing.

She didn't even acknowledge that I was there. Was she out of it or something?

"Jess," I said, breaking the silence.

She hastily wiped the tears from her face and looked at me. Even in the night's darkness I could see that her eyes were puffy and red. She must have been crying for a good amount of time.

Not that I have any experience with crying girls or anything, but that was what my mom looked like when she cried day in and day out when my dad left her — us. She has recovered, though, ever since Gary came into the picture. While I did not really like the idea of him with my mom, he was a still a good man.

I took my jacket off and put it over her shoulders. "What were you thinking, going out without a jacket?" I chastised. I didn't say it to be funny or anything, I was serious.

A laugh burbled out of her throat. Her voice was scratchy. "You sound just like my dad."

Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

I smiled. "Come on," I said softly. "Let's go somewhere warmer."

She nodded and followed me to my bike.

- § -

We were in my room just talking. Just talking, people.

She seemed to recover from whatever she was crying about, because she was laughing at the jokes I was cracking.

I smiled at her. How did I ever get so lucky?

That was when she pulled out something from her sweatshirt pocket. A tape?

She handed the tape to me and said, "This will probably help."

I looked down at it, confused. "Help what?" I examined the tape. Office? What the hell was this?

"With the trial," she explained.

Then it clicked. "Wait a second. You went to that house and found the right tape? Jess, you didn't break in, did you? I mean, because that will just——"

"No!" she said, all the while laughing. "No, of course not. I got the Feds to make up some excuse and have me get in there. It was a piece of cake."

The way she said it made her sound like she does it all the time. "The Feds? How did you get federal agents to do that?"

She looked down. Oh, that. I guess she was trying to find a way out of telling me. "Right. I guess I should explain then . . ." She looked back up at me. "Rob, this might be a little bit of a shock, but I'm . . . uh — psychic."

I looked at her blankly. "Yeah, I all ready got that part. But how?"

She looked at me with a really shocked expression on her face. "But how did you kn—oh. I guess I was yelling pretty loudly, huh?"

I laughed. "Yeah, just a little bit."

She began to look nervous again. "You promise you won't throw me out of your house once you hear this?"

My eyes widened and I choked on some air that I had just drawn in. "Why would I do that?"

"Because what you are about to hear can be pretty shocking — and revolting to me."

I shook my head. "I promise I won't throw you out."

"Good," she said. "Well, let's see . . . I guess it was last spring . . . I was walking home with my best friend, Ruth — who you have yet to meet — during the storm of the century." Then she added, "Don't ask."

She sighed, like she really didn't want to be doing this. "We ducked under some bleachers — again, don't ask. The hail was the size of baseballs, I swear. There was nowhere else to take cover but those damn bleachers. And, well, while we were under them, I kind of . . . got struck by lightning."

I just blinked at her. Okay, I knew she didn't get the best grades in the world, but taking cover under bleachers during the storm of the century?

However, I chose not to say anything and let her continue.

"Then I developed this weird power. Like I could look at any picture of a missing person and I would wake up and know where they were. It was weird, and it caused a lot of trouble. Reporters came, setting my brother off on an episode. Then the FBI got involved. Soon enough, they asked me to join their psychic team and, well, I said yes. You know, just so they'd get off my back about everything . . ."

I just looked at her. This was way to much to take in. I mean, she was struck by lightning? What the — ?

She looked at me and pleaded, "Please, say something."

"That was probably the weirdest thing I have ever heard," I settled for saying. But I knew it wasn't the right thing to say, by looking at Jess's face. I can see why she didn't want to tell me.

I moved closer to her. She lifted her head up, which, coincidentally, came to about a centimeter right in front of my face. "But it doesn't change my opinion of you," I whispered.

Then I closed the gap between us by capturing her lips with my own in a very nice kiss. (Hey, what do you want? I'm a guy, I really am not that good at describing . . . romantic moments.)

And I knew, from then on, that everything would be okay.

A/N: So . . . review? It would make me uber happy.