A/N: This chapter is super short because I didn't add the last bit I was going to. Nikki, who just got back from band camp, asked me to put it up, and I'm a sucker for her, so I did. Thanks to her for being the ONLY person to review my Rocky chapter, I wish other people had, too! No answers today, as I'm talking to her and answered her already. Now read on!

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"Gah! Grab my hand, we don't want to get separated!" Greg called out to Sara, wrapping his strong fingers tightly around hers.

"Greg, watch out!" Sara yelled, noticing the backpack sitting in the road in front of Greg. He wasn't looking, however, he was gazing into the eyes of the beautiful brunette holding his hand. One of his feet tangled in the strap, and he tripped, pulling Sara down by their linked hands. After a few moments and a few loud obsenities later, Greg was on his feet and Sara was helping him limp to a small cabin, where a nurse was waiting, wringing her hands and watching the teenagers.

She ushered them inside, Sara choosing a seat next to the bed which Greg had occupied. "Let me see that leg," the nurse said, motioning to Greg's bloodied shin, staining the bottom of his boardshorts a dark crimson. Greg winced as the nurse applied gauze to the would, wrapping it around his leg until no blood soaked through.

Sara watched in awe. She remembered how she'd fallen on his leg, and wondered if this had been the result of her weight, or his clumsiness. She thought back to third period, when Mr. De la Cruz had told them they were taking the rest of the day off to go see a Native American burial ground. Sara and Greg were just as unenthusiastic as the rest of the class, but Greg had brightened considerably when he realized this would let he and Sara be alone (without Nick) for the better part of a day. Sara stared as the nurses hands smoothly wound the cloth over Greg's leg, keeping a steady rhythm. She had a fleeting image of herself bandaging his leg like that. It made her shiver, though she didn't think it was entirely a bad thing.

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Nick was playing his viola in rapid strokes, watching Mrs. Wells gesture violently with her conducter's wand. Natasha was standing behind him, her trumpet blasting right next to the back of his head. Mrs. Wells gave them the signal to cut the music, and at once the torrent of sound ceased. She took up a large stack of sheet music and told them she'd be giving them something new to work on. After a few moments, however, she cried out, saying that she'd lost the cello music. A few musicians got up to help her sort through the papers, while everyone else milled around, talking in hushed voices.

"Hey, Natasha!" Nick muttered under his breath. She turned to look at him, her hazel eyes boring into his soul. He felt as if she could read his mind, and he need not ask what he was thinking. "Are you and Jim, like, going out? Not officially yet, but are you?" Nick felt foolish asking, as if he should know these things about his friends.

Natasha shook back her long, flowing, brown hair and looked at him, a slightly hurt expression marring her china-doll features. It seemed like she also thought he should already know. She turned away, swinging her tan arms and hesitating before taking a step toward where her trumpet was sitting, on a chair.

Nick couldn't help but notice her tan line, just above the cut of her low-rise jeans. He was almost sad to see her turn around and come back to him, an apologetic look on her face. "I shouldn't have gotten mad, I know it's hard to tell, what with the stuff at the dance," she said, smiling in an embarassed sort of way. "I really like him, but he seems sort of..." she paused, not knowing how to describe Jim. "Like he doesn't know what to do. Sort of like he's afraid to try being with a girl."

Nick was slightly uncomfortable at her choice of words. "Does that mean you asked him out and he rejected you?" he asked bluntly.

"No, it's just that..." she stopped again, searching for the words. "We both want it to be special, when we start a relationship. We hardly know eachother at all."

Nick nodded understandingly. He knew about wanting to start a romance in a special way, he'd thought about how to ask Sara many times. He'd written letters, songs, made plans to throw waffles at her window until she came out, then shout up to her how much he loved her, really, he loved her. He wished she knew.

As if reading his mind, Natasha asked, "You've got it bad for Sara, right?" Nick nodded dumbly, feeling his face grow hot. Natasha laughed at his dumbstruck look, saying nonchalantly, "Everyone knows about the little love triangle you and Greg have with her. Sara's totally oblivious, though."

She watched as Nick's muscles untensed, his whole body seemed to radiate relief. "How about a change of subject... The Warrick and Mia triangle with Archie?" Nick tried to sound casual, but his eagerness to get off the subject of his non-existant romantic life showed in his voice.

"Alright, okay," Natasha said, holding up her hands in surrender. "I was just interested, that's all."

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A/N: So there you have it. A nice little piece that explains Natasha's relationship with Jim. Isn't that lovely? Now I'm going to go back to multi-tasking homework and instant messenger, so remember to review!
Love,
Maddy