A/N: It's mostly fluff! And this was supposed to be a short chapter. but is about 6689 words. I DO NOT KNOW WHY i keep extending the size of the chapters! Rated M for... You know what? you'll find out what for.

Chapter 9: The Fear of Falling Apart

Z sleepily opened her eyes, almost four hours later, and saw Sky still peacefully sleeping by her, and RIC still in her lap, and she decided, she didn't want to wake up yet, nor wake him up, so she just rested her head across his chest again, and got to thinking.

She wrapped her hands around RIC, and closed her eyes, not because she felt sleepy, but because she needed to think of a plan. A plan… for what? To save everyone? She was absolutely sure, that this couldn't happen. The way, the efficiency by which the raid, and destruction of SPD took place, Sky and Z were going to have to deal with professionals. It was going to be… tricky, at best. But she had a rough idea of what she might need to do! If all went well, (and there were about a million possibilities that it wouldn't) they could get everyone out, alive! All they needed was the decoy plan.

And then there was a question about their honesty. They said they had just killed one. That was almost two days ago, and who knows how many might've died for now. She shook just to think about their living condition. Bridge, that poor little boy, he was just a kid! He wasn't even twenty years old! He might be dead for all they knew. Or tortured, or succumbed to wounds, or hunger, or…

Z's mind turned in that direction, and she just snapped out of it, no no no no no no! Whatever it was, Syd was safe from those conditions. Her thoughts turned to Sydney. What she could've been done to save her, and in her mind, she penned a short apology to Syd, thinking about her, and telling her as if she was having a conversation with the dead girl, though she was the lonely speaker, that she really missed her, a lot, that she wished she could've been with her that night, instead of taking off, and if she would've been with her that night, she'd have been so protective of her that she'd practically sing her to sleep, had she just known, what was coming, she wouldn't have left, she would've never let them take the light behind her eyes! Gosh! So much guilt! Why? What for? Why couldn't she just forget about it? she scolded herself, mourn later, she ordered.

"Z?" Sky asked, as he felt a teardrop sliding onto the arm he had wrapped around Z, "are you okay?" and she quickly opened her eyes, "how long have you been awake?" she asked, avoiding the question, and wiping her eyes.

"a few minutes, but I saw you in a trance, so didn't want to wake you" he replied, sweetly, and she smiled.

"thanks"

"can we stay like this for a little more time?" he asked, and she nodded, "I was going to say the same thing" she said, relaxing, and adjusting a little, so she was in his lap now, her back towards him though, putting all of her body weight against him, and resting her head against his chest again, so she could hear his beating heart. His heartbeat was such a comfort to her. She realized that she felt the most peace she had in years, when she just lay there, silently listening to that thumping heart. He found that his peace came by holding her close, with his arms wrapped around her, and feeling her soft hair brush against his lips, oh so gently, knowing she was safe, and that he was safe with her.

It was funny you know? How in just two days, the two of them had become so much for each other! Maybe if none of this had happened, they'd have continued detesting each other and behaving rudely, and never getting close, because of all that shit that happened at that Boston case. Well, maybe there WAS something good to come out of this traumatic experience. They had found each other!

He also rested his head back against the back of the couch, and closed his eyes, his mind was enveloped by ideas of how their life could be, if they make it through. Maybe they'd go out on a date, *he imagines the date* and maybe she'd like it, and want to go on more dates with him? And maybe if she wanted, one day they could get physical? Or get married and have kids? *he imagined the wedding and then the kids running round, two of them* Or maybe he was just thinking too much ahead! Maybe they'd just die tomorrow…

But he promised himself one thing, Z Delgado was not like Bella Aniston, he had seen that much in just two days, and he was never planning to let go of her.

He wondered what she had been thinking all this while, and the answer, though it will not be known to Sky at the moment, was a list of all the possibilities in which the plan she was forming might go wrong, and ways to minimize systematic error. Random error? She couldn't do anything about it, but she was going to, as much as she could. Sky had to agree to her plan, because it'd be the only one they could have! The sole possibility of survival, unless of course they ran far, far away from SPD, a very tempting idea for her, but she knew they couldn't, not even if it came to their own lives, in which case, she'd like to die in the very same position she was right now. She'd want to have Sky close to her when she breathed her last.

It felt inconceivable now, that she might've hated him so much for so many months before this! She knew so much about him now, more than she had found out in whole her two years at SPD! She now understood him as a person, and a very nice one too! maybe it was true, trauma did really change people in ways they can't imagine, and the person who you hang on to support at that time, is the person you get so damn attached to.

She sighed, then smiled, and turned to look at him.

"Sky, I have a plan," she said.

X-X-X

Sky's POV

She goes into detail, telling me her plan, and before I know it, I'm sweating. The plan is too risky, has too many open ends, and can end in about three thousand different ways, out of which, what? Four, five? Six, ten? It's about what? one percent of everything possible! We might just end up dead! I mean even a ten minute delay by a freaking bus might spell death for us.

What should we do then? She has at least come up with a plan! I mean I was just getting all emotional, and making plans about my life with Z, while she was in the present making plans on how to stay alive. I might not look like it, but I am dumb!

Anyway, it's the best thing we got next to nothing, and so, unless either of us come up with a better plan, this is what we gotta do! Of course the plan needs some modifications, and so, well, we talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, because that is what discussing the plan is.

And finally, we land up with a plan, that might work, but has a chance of us just… dying too. I think I should accept my death already. We sigh, and she gets a pen and a paper, and scribbles down the rough idea of the plan, "decoy" I add, taking another pen, and scribbling with her, "we'd need something to get the place dark you know?" she says, and I nod, we scribble that down as well, "you know how to power the zords?" I ask, and she says, "Dr. Manx has a manual down somewhere in her lab"

"good point! And maybe we can take some other stuff from the lab too!"

"stuff that doesn't look like weapons" she says, catching on, "like that EMP ball?"

"the EMP ball! Of course! That's like killing two birds with a stone!"

"how?"

"to cut the lights? Remember when Boom showed it to us, he literally blew out the power at SPD, AND a few neighboring buildings!"

"right, so let's get that"

"let's make a list of everything we need to get!"

"I think cyanide is a good option" I look at her surprised, "cyanide" I repeat, "yes, of course," I think she saw the color draining from my face, as she placed a hand on my shoulder, "we don't need to use it on us Sky"

"I was never afraid of death until I realized I had something to lose" I murmur, and she seems to have heard me, "me too Sky"

And we make the list, of stuff, dangerous, sad, bone chilling, everything that we think we might need. But my mind asks, Sky, since when are you afraid of death? Yes the answer is since I had her to lose, but didn't I have Bella? The answer, it comes almost naturally to me. I am not afraid, never was, of losing Bella, because, she wasn't SPD, and wasn't putting HER life on the line too, like Z is with me, I am more afraid to lose her than to lose myself. I guess this is what happens when you care for someone who is as much in danger of losing their life as you are.

If, God forbid, I live and she dies, I'd never be able to forgive myself. It'll be like how he must be feeling about Sydney's loss. Gosh I can finally understand her feelings! It must be so terrible for her! Maybe that's why she shed so many tears, and endured that awful nightmare!

So I accompany Z to Dr. Manx's lab, of course, where the blood remains. When we open the door, we are met with a permafrost-y breeze, the air conditioning we had turned to max, seemed to have done it's job. At -2°C, the blood has frozen, and at least, its not seeping about creepily anymore. The problem? The place seems just a little too cold for us to enter. We look at each other, "something warm?" I ask, and she nods, "see ya in five" and head the ways of our rooms, within five minutes, we are back in huge overcoats, mufflers, gloves, snow boots, and practically anything that can keep us warm, both our roommates' and ours. (its funny how we are using their stuff like it belongs to us cuz they're not here to scold us rn)

"so, should we try to see if it'll work?" I ask, as I pull the EMP from Kat's shelf, "you know Sky," she replied, like a know-it-all, "if you 'try' to see that it works, you're gonna end up blowing the whole SPD light system out"

"I know, that's how we'll know if it works!" I say, and she shakes her head, "we will have to go to the top floor, AGAIN, to the power room, and re-energize the whole grid! It's gonna get…. Ehhh" she said.

"but what if we try it tomorrow, and it doesn't work?"

"we leave it chance"

"Z we are already leaving too much to chance. Not one more thing" I find myself saying, and I know what a chicken I must've sounded like, but she doesn't comment.

"alright then, we'll try it later, after we've settled everything else down, okay?" I nod.

"so what else?"

"how about this?" I point to a small… pen? "it looks interesting…" I say.

She smirks, "right, Bridge was developing that! it's a taser, that looks like a pen, and the best part is, it can't be detected by metal detectors." She took the device, and slid the cap open, nothing special. But then she brought it to a bit of frozen blood, and she pressed the back tip of the pen, and suddenly I watched the ice melt. It really was a taser. Then she unclipped a bit of the pen, and showed me an insulation on the inside. It looked like nothing but an ordinary pen, but it wasn't. I don't know what pleasure Bridgey got from experimenting with stuff that wasn't supposed to be… like the bomb toaster and RIC as a refrigerator for soda cans. I wonder how he must be right now. It hurts to think.

We get a few more things, a box of mints that are actually sedation buttons, to be pasted on skin, for knocking people out. Then there's a small ring, with a fake blue sapphire, which was developed from my powers, by Dr. Gaul herself I think, though what it's doing in Kat's lab I don't know. A press on the emerald can cause a force field to be created, quite a lot like my own. Then we take a few more things, like our belt buckles with handcuffs and nightlock (a poison pill, which can be concealed as cufflinks) and of course, cyanide powder, in a small, rose scented compact case… I feel bad for the poor bloke who'd apply this powder.

Anyway, with everything set, there's just one thing left for us to do…

WAIT.

Wait and watch, and wait, till our death, or whatever tomorrow holds, comes and gets us. At this point, we decide to 'set our affairs in order'. That's the word she uses, and its usage is frankly a bit odd. It's like she's already resigned to her death. But I don't have time for such ponderings. I have to go and write a letter to the only person in the world whom my death would affect the most.

On my way, I hear her calling someone on phone. It relieves me when I hear what she has to say… "hey, I need your help" but I have goodbyes to say, and I can't say them on phone, because then I can't filter my words not erase of delete them once they are out of my mouth. I settle on an email.

"mom we all go to hell? Is that a right way to start a letter?" I ask myself, as I sit alone in my room. Z decided to go off on her own. She said she needed to do something. And I really hope she isn't considering getting drunk again. Not after what happened last night! It's already seven o'clock! Oh how fast today passed! And how slowly yesterday had! It feels like eons ago that I searched Z's room, and only minutes away, that we woke up together!

BUT I need to concentrate on my letter for now. I pen it down before typing it and emailing it, because ideas flow better from my pen rather than the keyboard.

So how do I start? "mom, we're going to die so I'm sending this so you can cry thinking about me?"

"naahhh" I say to no one in particular, "I think it should be more poetic, since it's the last thing I'd ever be saying to my mom. Should I say mama instead? I think Z calls her mom mama…

I settle for a short note, nothing at all poetic, of course, I'm not that great a poet. Anyway, what the letter says, in a nutshell, is that this is the first time I am writing a letter in the format taught to u in English classes, even though I'm mailing it to her, and I've wasted about what? 170 words on that lame intro. Then I explain her my situation and the fact that I might never return to her. I tell her that I love her, and that I know that she loves me too, and that nothing changed between us, even after the whole Bella incident, because well, she had to keep in mind the lives of both her sons. I tell her thanks for raising me to be who I am, and for being so strong when dad passed away. I tell her she's as much of an idol for me as dad was, because I've seen her struggle through, and I've seen her come through.

Then I turn to the ungrateful bastards. Of course, I don't combine their letter with mom's letter. I write them another email, thanking them for what they did to me, otherwise two things would've happened… one, I'd have never been here, at SPD, to witness the carnage while it was still fresh, maybe arriving a week later, too late to do anything, and hopelessly watching as these bastards got whatever they wanted. Now at least I can try to stop them the best I can, or die trying. Two, I'd never have let Z meet me, for the person I really was, I'd never have had the guts to confess my feelings for her, I'd never have had gotten to kiss her lips, without feeling any sort of guilt. I'd never had had any future with her. I already didn't with Bella, and well, I'm happy overall. This was my letter to Bella, (I don't want to be bitchy to her, despite my real emotions, you know, be the bigger person.) And then the final email is addressed to Lucifer himself, Amedeo Tate.

Him, I take no mercy on, telling him that if I go to hell, I'm going to drag him with me. And if he had just been nice to me, even for a little time, I'd have maybe sung him a song in my musical of a life. But he had always been a jerk. this letter is basically me informing him of all his flaws and how he was and is such a terrible person. I know, I know, real cheery, but after everything, after being favored all his life, at my expense, I think this is too light. My teachers, friends, and it seems, even girlfriends, liked him more than me. He was always supposed to be the example I was to follow. I got so freaking fed up, that when the time came for us to select careers, instead of doing what everyone expected me to do, I did what nobody expected me to do.

Become an SPD Ranger like my father.

Everyone thought that this was the worst career choice in the universe. Dad had already gotten himself killed, and they knew that I'd also end up doing that. they didn't understand the honor in being a martyr. All my life they told me against it. told me to be practical, be like my brother, take a career in real estate or something, but I never listened. To anyone. And here I am today, writing last goodbyes, knowing that as Red Ranger, I'm also going to die. If not tomorrow, then some other day. Different Tate, same fate. *He grins at the rhyme. What irony* then I go back to the letter, telling him that nobody would be proud of him ever, because he was a selfish mean asshole, and that what I died for, was something bigger than myself. I did something. I made a change… or at least I tried to.

I know I'm sounding self-righteous. But this is the truth. And besides nobody is going to question me. Because I'll not be here to answer.

And if I am, well then all's just MOLTO BUENO!

By the time I've written all letters, it's about nine thirty. Wow I took two and a half hours to write three letters. I need some serious writing skills practice!

So I head out, looking for Z, wondering what she's up to. Desperately hoping she's not drunk, because I really don't feel like looking for her.

But thankfully, I find her in the common room and OH MY GOD! WHAT HAS SHE DONE?

She's pushed three or four of those four people tables, and laid out a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful dinner spread on the tables. So many different dishes, of course none prepared by her, the molecular synthesizer is a good chef it seems. And then there's stereos, she's in a short skirt, yes! Never thought I'd see this day, but Z Delgado is wearing a skirt. And then a frilly top. She is smiling, oddly, considering there's about an 89% chance she might also die tomorrow. She is humming a tune, and she's dancing in rhythm to it, with her headphones in place, the dinner just sits there, maybe she's waiting for me. Anyway, she hasn't noticed me yet. She smiling, she looks absolutely beautiful. So beautiful that even words can't describe it. she always looked beautiful, but right now, carefree, happy, prancing about the room like a doe, not conscious of anything, or anyone, this is the Z Delgado I fell in love with. She is the person I had that excruciating urge to kiss, that day in Boston. She is the person I distanced from myself when I broke her heart that day. Ever since, she has been cut off and aloof from me, well, until now. I hope this stays, I hope we stay, I just hope that it all ends fine.

I look at her, I can't help it, and I thank God silently for making Bella cheat on me, and let us break up, so that I could be with this amazing and beautiful girl. I smile at her, but she still hasn't seen me, so I carefully walk up to her, her back's still turned to me, and place my hand gently on her shoulder.

She stops, and turns around abruptly, alert, and raising her hands in self-defense. But then she sees me, and she relaxes, she smiled, at me, but didn't take off her headphones, and instead of humming the song, then began to sing it out loud. "two kids with their hearts on fire, who's gonna save us now!"

Then she twirled and came all the way around me, and encircled me, still dancing, and laughing, beautifully, and singing that song.

"when we thought that we couldn't get higher, things started looking down"

I think I'm out of words to describe her. gorgeous, stunning, striking, lovely, attractive, fine looking, divine, charming, exquisite, delightful, appealing, everything! She's just had me mesmerized. She takes one or two more rounds around me and then takes my hands, trying to get me to dance as well, but failing. I like to see her dance, but I don't dance.

"you said hey whatcha doin for the rest of your life?"

I know the song, so I also let my voice flow, "and I said, I don't even know what I'm doing tonight!"

The expression on her face is priceless as she realizes I know the song, but she continues nonetheless. "went from one conversation to your lips on mine"

"And you said I never regretted the day that I called you mine!"

And we ended the song with her lips on mine, me freezing her in her steps for a few minutes, holding her close to me, then we parted, and she spoke something other than the song's lyrics, "you wanna eat then dance or dance then eat?"

"I don't dance" I reply, but I am smiling, kinda like I was when she told me to loosen up at Syd's party all those years ago, and I laughed it off, but ended up listening to her anyway.

"you do when you are with me. There's no such option. So tell me, before or after?"

"I say how about a little before, then a little after?" it's the best cheeky Z type answer I can think of right now.

she smirks, and leads me on.

Z's POV

I'm dancing with Sky Tate. I'm making him dance with me. Who knew I'd land up at this point? He also seems to be enjoying himself. I've dumped my headphoens and have bluetoothed my phone to the speaker in the room, so we can both enjoy. It's a random mix. A ruddy odd mix, from cinematic ballads, to pop songs, rock songs, mashups, to operas, and even a certain 'funiculi funicula' I've taken possibly every song, except emo ones. The last song I want to listen before I die is "I'm not okay" or "my friends met tragic ends" or "though we are dead and gone" honestly. I've had had enough.

I want to live!

Live my life while I can.

"Z, are you okay?" he asks me, when we finally sit down to eat. I've prepared quite a feast haven't I? better than to sit all grim, and mope about possibly ending up dead the next day. BUT I have faith in us, in him. we'll get out for certain. But if we don't, (me forever the pessimist) then well, I don't want any regrets.

"well, I thought we better live the night, which might possibly be the last night of our lives, best as we can" he looks at me, extremely puzzled, and then takes it all in. he looks around the room, and I can literally feel the cogs in his mind turning as he processes what I said. I think I stated my philosophy quite well. I've never been more proud of myself. he then slumps back in his chair, with a sort of disdainful, yet mischievous smirk. I take it to be his acceptance.

"cheers?" I ask, but instead of holding up a glass, I hold up two bottles of whiskey, "why thank you?" Sky says, with mock politeness, and takes it anyway. We clink the bottles, rip open the corks, and we drink.

Last time we drank together, didn't end up well, but this time? I don't think our situation can get much worse.

I pull out the EMP from my pocket.

"whatcha doin?" he asks me again.

"thought candle light would be better" and with that statement, I press the button, and there's a power out across SPD. Thank you Bridge for your whatever scienc-y thing this is that causes MCBs to trip. Then I light the candle, fumbling a bit. Looks like the whiskey's begun it's work!

We drink…. And we eat… not afraid of any shortages. Our stacks are pretty damn good! The candle light gives a pretty decent horror film aura. We chat!

Of course we chat! He tells me about the army, and about people he HATES, and about how he once stepped on Cruger's tail, and how Cruger then chased him around the base. Too bad it was night and nobody saw.

"do the tails like have a savage trigger?"

"I think it's like their hair u kno?" his words have started slurring a little; he's through with the first bottle, "but then what are the cheap extensions on the head?" I ask

"cheap extensions" he says matter of factly, and then we both laugh. We laugh so hard I think it's starting to sting.

"SPD doesn't have coke right?" I ask, and knowing full well, that he's an SPD officer, and I am one too, I tell him stories about when Jack and I used to snort cocaine, and then thought police was chasing us, and then jumped into the ocean screaming "they're getting closer" and making police siren noises?

"what?" he says incredulously

"hey!" I get all defensive, "where'd you go if you were stoned and freaking out?"

"taco bell" he said, and we burst out laughing again.

we talk, still more, and he then stands up, bows, like a gentlemen, and in a very, medievalesque manner, began to recite a poem, a certain, 'slumber did my spirit seal' in a mock voice that was so much more heavier than his usual that it made me crack into laughter. I raised my glass, (yes we had switched to glasses finally) and said, "hear hear! Count Schuyler Tate!" in a pretend baritone, that made him smirk, "of but that is not all!" he said, and then prancing about the room, drunk, he cried out, "welcome to the land of dread!" I look up, but he slurs all the rest of his words, I only catch few words that he laughs and then whispers in my ears, "walking dead," or "hopes" or "shred" or "delinquents" and a few more, the music has also reached it's crescendo, I think some operatic tune? I don't even know why it's there in the playlist.

Think it's peganini's caprice in…. A minor?

Then I get up, and do a courtesy, "may I?" I ask in that proud manner I've read in the Jane Austen books. "of course madame" he says, "tout á toi!" I don't know what it means, but I guess something polite.

I recite an old ballad I had heard from my parents, "listen to this story, a tale of false glory!" and then I don't remember the rest of the words, so instead I take my glass and I raise it up high, and try to drink the whiskey that flows through as a waterfall… angel falls!

It might be just as high no?

I have no idea where he got that Charlie Chaplin hat from… wait is that a feather? Is that a freaking musketeer hat? Oh no wait! I THINK it's a beret!

I go close to him, and carefully examine the hat, and then "AHHHHAAAAAA!" I say in his face, and he almost spits out his drink, laughing, "it IS a Chaplin hat!"

He somehow pulls another one from somewhere I can't seem to place, and it's a cowboy one. I pull it on, and make my hands into a gun and point it at him, "hands up punk!" I say in my most authoritative manner, which is way too funny for me, and I can't even get through the sentence, I end up snickering baka mitai instead. Then I chase him around the room with that pistol, and tackle him onto the couch, getting on top of him, and shoving my tongue down his throat. He tries to turn us around, but the couch being the couch, and us being drunk on about what? three bottles of whiskey, fall onto the floor with an 'ouch!' and guffaw. Rest is a blur for a while…

"WATCH OUR DIAMONDS" he yells, making his hand into a fist and using it as a microphone.

"caw caw caaaaaawwwwwww" I yell, makig my hands into a cone in front of my face, and cawing like a parakeet.

"GUILTY as charged your honor!" he says, bowing down to the TV.

Then the next thing I remember after everything crazy, is the simple fact that a melancholy song plays, I think it's Ed Sheeran, and Sky's holding me close, and we are slowly moving together, to the tune, slow dancing, swaying to the music. He holds his hand, but he's not really looking in my eyes, his eyes are closed and his forehead's pressed against my hair, which are wet with the humidity and sweat, because of course, no air conditioners, and no fans either, plus we've been working out too much with all the drinks and whatnot. He slowly brings his lips to kiss my forehead, and we just sway. I rest my head on his shoulder, tired.

I think the bottles and bottles of whiskey are wearing off. I mean I can think straight. But I have no intention to think, or leave Sky's arms.

Few minutes later, he suddenly opens his eyes.

"why'd you do all this Z?" he asks softly,

"I don't know, maybe just felt like it…"

"are you afraid?" he asks, and I ask, "of what?"

"that the plan won't work?" he whispers, "that we'd die?"

"it will, Sky" I reassure him. The plan is pretty damn good, and if everything goes fine, which I'm counting on, then nothing will happen to us.

"then why all this? You believe you're going to die. So you want to live the last day of your life"

"no Sky I want to live" I say, though that had been my initial philosophy.

"then what was all this?" he asked, pushing me away.

"it was nothing Sky, I just figured that we were tired of being depressed all the time, so I thought we needed some levity!"

"levity? Face it, Z, you don't have any faith in the plan! You know that your f*cking plan is just based on assumptions, and wild chances!"

"you know what the truth is? YOU don't have any faith in the plan either Mr. Tate! Or you wouldn't have gone and written those 'last letters' to your friends and family." I almost scream

"YOU KNOW IT Z, WE ARE DYING TOMORROW!" tears flow out his eyes,

"why are you scared of dying Schuyler Tate?" I think it's the alcohol; none of us are able to control our emotions, our words, in the cool manner we have been for the past few days, "I'll tell you why! Because YOU only pretend to be strong! Inside you're just a little three year old baby!"

"I AM NOT! And what about you? You think I don't notice you going off to call him?"

"I called him to tell him the plan and WHAT HE HAS TO DO IN IT"

"what if he can't make it?"

"well then that is another thing we are leaving to chance!"

"would you rather that I call him, and substitute you for him and him for you then carry out the plan? That's what will make you believe that YOU will live?"

he freezes, and thinks, maybe considers my proposition, considers him then is satisfied, and calmly states, "you know what? that man has come through again and again, for us and SPD. I have faith in him. I have faith in you, and our plan. He'll pull us out. He'll do his part well. We will do ours. We wont leave anything to chance. I promise." He takes my hand, but I jerk it away.

I turn around, and without a word, leave.

Leave for my room, leave, to be away from him. knowing Sky Tate, he won't bother coming after me. I check my watch. It shows quarter to one. I walk the dark hallways of SPD. To be honest, I don't know if we'll live or not. But the question is, does that really matter? We are SPD. Space Patrol Delta. We are supposed to put our lives on the line, and if it may be, die trying. This is our duty, this is what we do. And here, for the sake of SPD, and possibly that of the whole earth, we have to make IT. Even if WE don't make it.

And what is the son of the great Landon Tate afraid of? Death? That's very uncharacteristic for him. But then again, before we had gotten drunk, he hadn't shown any fear about dying. But looks like he was afraid. Well, anyone would be. The drinks only brought it out. And now I just left him alone to feel terrible about me. I think I should go baa—

Someone comes from behind and grabs my waist, I'm just about to turn and punch the person in the face when I find him resting his weight on me, hugging me from behind, tightly.

He pushes his head next to mine, and places his lips on my shoulder, "what are you doing Sky?" I ask, a little irritated but he just starts kissing my neck.

"Sky!" I repeat, and he mumbles, "I don't want to lose you Z"

"what?" I am truly surprised, what is he trying to do? "I love you Z" he said, "and I'm not saying that because I am drunk and afraid. Not drunk anymore. Not afraid for myself. I just realized, I was more afraid to lose YOU."

"I love you too Sky, I always have" I say, biting my lips, fighting back the tears, "I'm sorry for everything I said, from the coldness, to the shooting, to what I just said a few minutes back. I never meant any of that. I'm saying this now, and I promise, I mean every letter of this, I'm yours Sky Tate, and I'd even die for you" and then I turn around, and catching his lips in a passionate kiss; he snaked his arm around my back, and pulled me closer to him. I our tongues danced together, as I found myself getting more and more turned on every second. I wanted him… No… I needed him. Sky Tate was the only thing that mattered to me now.

I reach out for his collar, and I push him back against a wall in that dark SPD hallway. I wrap a leg around his waist, and push myself onto him even more.

He moves his lips down my neck, and I throw my head back, giving him better access. I feel a moan escape my mouth, as he gently bites down my shoulder. oh! I feel so exalted! There are about a million butterflies in my tummy, he's getting really into kissing me.

He pulls up then, and shoves his tongue back into my mouth, and I reply kissing him more feverishly. He pushes me back, and now, I am pinned against the other wall, with him in control. I repeat what he did to me, in the process removing his shirt, and running my hand over his extremely ripped chest and abs. I kiss down his neck, and shoulder, and he is panting, when he manages to say, "Z are you sure about this?"

I bring myself up, having to stand on my toes a little for it, "yes Sky, one hundred percent" and we kiss again, first a soft lip kiss, turning quickly into a heated one. I move about his chin, and start nibbling his ears, I feel his hands travel under the back of my shirt, and then roughly rip it apart, but I don't care.

This is what I want and need and care about, him, and only him. seems he feels the same way, because minutes later, we are happily lost in each other…

A/N: Yes i know what i just did... and i don't want to hear anything against it. Ya'll knew it was coming.