H is for Heat. He lay on his bed, dark blond hair plastered to his temples as he stared at the ceiling, a trickle of sweat sliding down his cheek, and a hundred thoughts whirling through his brain, as he tried to make sense of the past two weeks. Hiding his feelings for a certain petite brunette, who had occupied all of his brainpower since the night she ran to him in tears, had been much easier when he wasn't aware that his fragile, soft feelings were returned in spades.

How was he supposed to overlook that simmering heat that burned low in his gut when he knew they were reciprocated? And had they been there before Max had ever entered her life?

Groaning, he dropped his arm over his eyes, swiping at the sweat-kissed skin impatiently as he stood, wondering when he, the king of impulse and action, had become such a girl; it was humiliating to a degree. He should just get off his ass and do something about it; confront her (and maybe steal another kiss just to make sure that this wasn't all in his head), ask her if what he saw was real rather than angsting like a pre-teen.

Recalling the soft burn of lips on his own, he paced restlessly, his gut churning as he wondered why exactly he'd been holding back on seeing her, why he'd let her play the avoidance-dance for this long. It wasn't in him not to go after what he wanted, when he wanted it; so all this hesitating was…pointless. He wanted her, and according to her flashes, she wanted him as well. So, really, there was only one thing to do when all was said and done.

Grabbing his keys off the nightstand, he slammed out the door and turned down the street, headed toward a balcony, above a little diner, that ensconced a certain, small town waitress that was intent on driving him crazy.

H is for Honesty. He'd been staring at the fire-escape ladder for the past two minutes, his earlier resolve melting under the weight of too many thoughts and doubts on his way over, the years of systematic abuse and belittling, washing away that first burn of confidence and making him wonder what he'd been thinking. He could never be Max; could never be the perfect son, the white knight, the prince charming that surely she was used to, and deserved after everything she'd been exposed to, everything she lost due to the alien abyss.

He didn't have much in the way to offer her; he was the emancipated foster son of the town drunk, with a crummy apartment that not even roaches wanted to inhabit, two part time jobs that lead to no where and a whole slew of problems, both of the human as well as the alien variety. If he cared about her, and he did, suspected he might even love her, or at the very least be close to it, he'd walk away and let her live as normal a life as she could.

Scuffing his foot against the nearly bubbling concrete, he nodded slowly, making up his mind as he shoved his hands into his pockets before looking up at her balcony one more time, startled to find her watching him with a faint smile.

"Coming up?" she asked huskily, cocking a brow, her eyes gleaming softly at his hesitance. "Or are you planning to stay down there all night? 'Cause I have to tell you, the whole hanging around my balcony thing like a stalker is kinda creepy and far too reminiscent of another alien that shall remain nameless. Please tell me you didn't read the same book on how to romance human girls, because it failed miserably in conveying our true desires."

"What? Are you saying that Max's overtures were less than smooth, Parker?" he quipped lightly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips when she rolled her eyes and shook her head disparagingly, her chocolate eyes glinting with a touch of humor. "Besides, I don't need a book. I have more than enough skills on my own."

"Yes, that's why you've been staring at my ladder all broody for the past two minutes, rather than getting your ass up here to actually talk to me," she snickered, leaning her elbows against concrete wall, resting her chin in her cupped hands and smiled indulgently, the hint of a challenge in those fathomless eyes. "I'm convinced, really."

"Maybe, I was just a little unsure of my welcome," he replied seriously, figuring he'd just lay it all the line and be as brutally honest as he could, his features growing closed and stoic, heart pounding in his ears as their gazes clashed and held. "After all, you have been avoiding anyone with green DNA the past few weeks; not that I blame you after everything. And I can't help but think that you're better off that way."

Serious brown eyes regarded him thoughtfully, her bottom lip clenched firmly between her teeth as she seemed to mull those words over carefully, her head cocking contemplatively before she nodded, "You're right, I have been avoiding everyone lately, and not just those of the out of this world persuasion. I needed the time away to get my head straight and make a few decisions. Know what I discovered?"

He cocked a brow at that question, a silent invitation to continue and his heart stilled when she smiled that soft, Liz-smile, the one that lit her eyes brighter than any star he'd observed. "Max is right, we do make our own destiny and while I no longer believe that mine includes him, I hope that it does include you."

He swallowed thickly, his mouth running dry and breath snagging at the simple honesty in her words and he blew out a heavy breath, his mind reeling at how much she'd revealed in that quiet statement, floored that she'd want to give him a place in her life after how much pain they'd brought into it. Shaking his head in wonder, he looked back up into sparkling topazes when she cleared her throat with a smirk.

"That is, if you can get your ass up here and stop creeping me out, because seriously, not the way to a girl's heart."

Chuckling softly, he strode over to fire escape, reveling in her bright grin as she moved away from the wall, and heart fluttering, swiftly climbed to the top, that same heart filled with endless possibilities and dreams.

H is for Healing. He watched her from the corner of his eye, sitting with Kyle and laughing at something inconsequential, enjoying a day off that, for once, didn't include alien melodramas, or even normal teen angst and he couldn't help but grin as those silvered notes reverberated through the café. It was a good sound, one missing all too frequently through her on again, off again romance with Max and it was nice to see the hollows and shadows disappearing more and more with each passing day. Happiness looked good on her.

Sighing, he leaned against the counter top and turned his eyes away from the petite brunette, his girl, even if she didn't yet know it, and studied the reason they hadn't made it official and become more that friends, frowning when he caught his pseudo brother mooning over her once more. If there was anyone that knew how to dig his heels in and ignore reality, it was Max, and his inability to let go was starting to grate his nerves.

He got it, really he did. After spending the past few months of movie nights, ice cream dates, quiet walks, and nights just laying under the stars and talking, he understood just how difficult it was to lose Liz. But there came a time when you had to stop beating a dead horse and let go already; before he did it for him.

Glancing away from the Moonstruck Marauder, he smiled as chocolate irises met his, a slow, sweet smile spreading across her face and her cheeks tinted a delicate pink as she glanced away shyly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and his heart warmed knowing he was the reason behind that smile. He'd been waiting, impatiently biding his time for a sign that she might be ready for more than just the simple friendship they'd maintained while she exorcized her demons, or one demon in particular.

She hadn't flinched when Max walked into the building, loudly, in an effort to make himself known; she hadn't even looked up when he laughed, didn't even acknowledge him except with a brief nod and smile before turning back to her conversation. He couldn't help the little jump in his heart to see that she seemed to be healing just fine and hoped that one day soon that smile would be followed something infinitely sweeter.

H is for Heartfelt. Tonight was the night. No, not that night. Not that he wouldn't be all for it if she were interested (he was a healthy teenage male after all and by no means a saint), but that was still some time away; they still hadn't shared more than a handful of kisses as he hadn't wanted to rush into a relationship despite the crazy attraction between them. In all honesty, she had been slowly driving him crazy over the summer with her little shirts, and even tinier shorts if it were at all possible. He was shocked his brain hadn't imploded on more than one occasion, the minx.

No, tonight he was done with the ambiguous friends, pseudo-boyfriend-girlfriend stage and he was claiming her for his own. Yes, she'd probably accuse him of being a Neanderthal if she could read his thoughts, but he couldn't help it; he was tired of watching guys trip over themselves to get her attention and not having any options for…well lets be honest…no right to beat the crap out of them if they touched her. He wasn't going to lose her now.

That's not to say that she'd paid them any mind; in fact, she never seemed to see anyone other than him when they were together, her attention always firmly fixated on him and he knew her well enough to know it wasn't an act. It was a quality that he loved about her; and did wonders for his sense of self-worth, making him feel warm inside, proud that this beautiful, vibrant and intelligent girl not only spent time with him, but also genuinely liked and admired him.

He could never find the words to adequately describe how it made him feel.

He probably never would. Words were never his forte; he was more the show them exactly how you feel, as words always seemed to fail him at best and get him in trouble at the worst of times. But she never made him feel inadequate when he failed to get his point across, usually chuckling softly and shaking her head in amusement when he put his foot in his mouth, and then kissed his cheek gently, telling him not to worry. She understood.

Is it any wonder why he was crazy about this girl?

Turning towards her, his breath caught when she came into his arms easily, her eyes flashing with an inner knowledge as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned into his body, resting her chin against his chest gently and stared up at him tenderly, as if she too could feel the shifting of their relationship. Brushing a strand of her hair behind one ear, he smiled, basking in the dreamy glow of hers and closed his eyes, gently pressing his brow to hers, content to just get lost in her and in the scent of warm vanilla and spice that always played havoc on his insides.

No more dancing around, Guerin.

Cupping the delicate lines of her jaw in his hands, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against her experimentally, gasping softly as the subtle caress sent off sparks inside his head, igniting the ever-present fire that burned low in his gut. Pulling back slightly, he searched her eyes for any resistance and sighed happily when he found none before capturing her lips for a sweet, slow kiss, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she leaned up into his mouth and initiated the deepening their embrace, sending his head spinning and senses reeling. Home. He was finally home.

H is for Haven.