The good news, was that I decided to be a somewhat responsible adult and go actually have a talk with Jack. The jumping at shadows and the sudden cold sweats got annoying after the first day of relative 'peace' on the ship, obnoxious even. So I took Jack up on his offer and sat down with him to listen for a while. His stories were gruesome, and horrifying, and sometimes deeply unsettling. But it was also the kind of thing I needed to hear to even be able to start comprehending exactly what had happened to me. Jack also had a way of telling stories that made at least part of it humorous, or at least part of it sexy. I let him know pretty early on that I wasn't terribly interested in hearing about Captain Harkness' sex-capades across the galaxy, and being the good guy that he was, he only told like, two of his favorites.

After that, he just let me talk. Purging it out of my system without offering any judgments at all. Granted, I didn't need to tell him everything, but we discussed everything that was giving me nightmares. While I didn't exactly feel better about the whole thing, but I was feeling less awful about it. Which was a step in the right direction. I was also starting to suspect that Jack might be one of those terrible people that your parents warned you against.

But yes, killing was hard to come to grips with. Especially since it was so terrifyingly easy to accomplish. Sometimes it was right, and sometimes it was wrong. But if it had kept me in the world a little longer, as far as Jack was concerned, then I had done the right thing.

That was something anyway.

The bad news, was that right after the talk…well, actually, part of the way through it, we had started drinking. Heavily. And then we drank more. Substantially more. 'Ungodly amounts' might have been a good way to describe it.

So, the responsibility points I got for facing my fears head on and talking through them, had been sort of negated by the fact that I had drank enough liquor to kill a small elephant.

What I'm trying to say, is that I'd been nursing a hangover for the better part of the past two days. I had only just starting to feel mostly human again today around noon. I had written the afternoon off and opted for another day of hibernation when Donna stopped by. Seeing my bleary-eyed dedication to wearing sweatpants again, she invited herself in. After coming to the conclusion that I was still just a little too…ornery for public consumption, which may had been somewhat related to the fact that I kept asking her why she was shouting, when, apparently, she hadn't been; she set us up for a day filled with movies. She even brought popcorn. This is why Donna was, and always will be, my favorite. It was normal, and it was fun, and it was just the easy thing I needed immediately following Jack's trial by liquor to get me back to my carefully balanced spot between my usual plucky insanity and total all-consuming uber batshit psychosis. It was a very delicate line to tread.

She did mention the Professor once, which, considering it was Donna was something of a miracle. She used the opportunity to point out that'd he'd been spending an awful lot of time with Ailla while I'd been buried in blankets and the smell of stale beer. She didn't say anything else about it, but the long lingering gaze she gave me just screamed 'are you okay with that?' Instead of thinking about answering honestly, I ate another handful of popcorn and laughed aggressively at the movie. As well meaning as Donna was, I had just gotten back to my happy calm place. I did not want to immediately throw a wrench into it all over again.

Of course, as soon as she brought it up, it was all I could think about.

I should have been fine with it. The kiss meant nothing, and it would be totally fantastic if Ailla and the Professor got together and had lots of little space babies and they all lived happily ever after. Should was the keyword there. I should be flossing too, but I think we all know how likely that is.

Instead, it was a complete and utter lie. One I kept trying to tell myself so I wouldn't have to deal with it on top of picking up the rest of the shattered fragments of my life. It should have made things easier, giving me one less headache to deal with.

Should.

It didn't. Because I was fixated on it, like worrying at a loose tooth, that I'd probably gotten from lack of flossing. God, dentists were just the worst. Self-righteous little- No. Off topic. I continued to think about it, while simultaneously lying to myself about how much I actually cared.

God dammit.

How I'd managed to put up with myself this long, I had no idea. Let alone other people. That was where the root of my problem was though. Finally facing the music, I could admit to knowing what I wanted. Not out loud, and only in the hushed whispers of my head, but it was there. A fact. I wanted the Professor. I'd only waffled on that about six or seven hundred times, but there it was. But if I could hardly admit it to myself, how on earth was I ever going to tell the Professor? Hah. That was a joke. That was the giant radioactive pile of fear that made me want to pretend that I was some emotionless boulder who was above such trivial things as wants and desires. It was all well and good in theory, but as soon as I opened my mouth? What happened if he isn't interested? What happened if he was? Were either of them less likely to end in some phenomenally screwed up way? One way ended in complete awkwardness for the remainder of my time on the ship, which would probably result in my eventual expulsion from the TARDIS. The other option? Well, the voices in my head reassured me several times that it was impossible, but I digress. Who's to say that wouldn't end just like the last time, where he died? There wasn't any scenario in my head that ended with us happy, or even remotely in the 'good' column.

The only worse situation I could think of, was the one I was experiencing now. The one where I was constantly chastising myself about what an idiot I was, or a coward, or stupid, unimportant. Basically, it was a big hate party that I'd been invited to, so that all my insecurities could go ahead and tell me how they really felt. Like they'd been holding back all these years. It sucked.

So I'd decided. I was just…going to tell him. I was going to suck it up and stick to the 'responsible' trend I had been following. More so along the 'talk' line, and less the 'getting belligerently drunk' one, but you know what I'm getting at. I would just be upfront about it, if anyone could appreciate a straightforward talk about relationships, it would be the Professor. Mind you, that didn't mean divulging anything about our past, because, well, there was no need to make things more awkward than they were already guaranteed to be. Nothing says desperate like 'Hey, I like you, and you used to like me, so WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK TO DOING THAT'. Yeah, I'd go ahead and steer clear of that business. Focusing on the here and now was the most important.

Thirty minutes, a shower, and a change of wardrobe later…I was still fumbling over what exactly to say. It didn't help that I'd probably had this kind of an honest conversation maybe a handful of other times in my entire life. It was just…easier being snide and bitter. And usually, that worked for me. Given enough time, maybe the Professor would pick up my thinly veiled hints about pining after him that were disguised in the form of insults about his character. Unfortunately, there was Ailla to deal with. Perfect, fantastic Ailla. Who seemed like just the kind of person that had no trouble coming clean about their feelings.

It was unfair to hate her for being such a good person. I mean, she had survived all this time by sheer determination, and she hadn't let it turn her into some kind of broken husk. If anything, it seemed like she was stronger for having come through it. And in a really strange turn of events, she was actually my friend. And I kinda liked her. It was childish to hate her for any of that.

I did it a little anyway.

I checked my reflection in the mirror for the sixth time. I'd decided on a nice flattering, and mildly low-cut, emerald sweater. And a short gray skirt for the bottom. If the sweater didn't do it, the skirt was definitely going to send up some red flags. Which is why I've had this conversation about a dozen times in my head about whether or not I should just wear jeans. Yet, I still hadn't pulled any on. God I felt like an idiot, I was getting all…all…fancied up for him. What an undeserving bastard, he probably wouldn't even notice. But a small part of me remembered how he had acted the first time he'd seen me in that dress on Atlas. Sure, he was pretty oblivious, but he wasn't completely immune to the female form. Did that make me a little bit warped for trying to prey on that weakness…?

A knock on the door startled me out of bending over in front of the mirror to see if the skirt was a little too short. Because I'd end up doing toe touches and lunges at some point during our talk. Absolutely, that totally seemed like something practical to be prepared for. Jesus. I don't know, I was nervous. I turned around and spotted Donna's jacket draped over the back of the couch we had watched the movies on. I grabbed it as I walked past, wondering if maybe I should run this scenario past Donna. But then, that seemed like a terrible idea, because she'd get all excited about it, and then if I got shot down in flames, she'd know. The only thing worse than shame was public shame. No. Not asking Donna questions.

But then, she's going to ask about the skirt, and the fact that I had showered. Crap.

I still didn't have a good idea of what to say when I slapped the button to open the door, which was good, because it wasn't Donna. It was the Professor. My hand that had stretched out to give her the jacket sort of dropped and the fake smile melted off my face. "Oh."

"Hello?" He said tentatively, clearly noticing my dismay. Probably should have made an attempt to hide that a little better. Oops. His eyes trailed down briefly, taking in my ridiculous outfit that was currently lacking shoes. Knew he was a pervert. "Are you…going somewhere?"

"Yes," I blinked. "No. Sorry. Hi. I just thought you were Donna, she-" I looked at the jacket and realized the couch had quietly un-materialized itself, so I just chucked it toward the closet. "Never mind. What's up?" I asked innocently. Like there was nooooo reason I'd want to see him. You big, fat, chicken. This is your big chance to come clean, and you're just going to clam up. Awesome.

"I actually ran into Donna earlier. She said you might be feeling better today. Thought I'd stop by since you haven't been around for a few days." That almost sounded like concern in his voice. Almost. Could have also been indigestion.

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my head, feeling like an idiot. Everyone seemed to notice disappearances in a small crowd. "Sort of had a headache…"

"Is that what you're calling it?" He asked mildly. "You and Jack seemed to be having quite the time when I last saw you." Okay, apparently everyone noticed when you went on a bender in small crowds too. Damn. Had he been there? Oh, christ. Yes he had. Now I remember. There maybe have been some overly friendly hugging involved.

God.

Kill me now.

Please.

My face could not get any hotter as I tried to look at anything besides those damned eyes of his.

"Yeah. Um. It was good to…let off some steam. After everything." The smile on my face was so forced I probably looked like a deranged serial killer. Not that they came in a variety other than 'deranged'. This was going about as well as I'd hoped, and we'd yet to actually breech the subject. There was no way in hell I was telling him now.

"Of course," he gave a polite nod, but I could feel every judgmental thought he'd ever had about me radiating off him in waves. "Anyway, I came by because I had hoped I could speak with you," The look he gave me suggested maybe he had noticed the part where I had been tactfully avoiding him. Well, it wasn't very tactful if I got caught, so maybe I wasn't as crafty as I had thought. "I didn't realize you might have made plans…"

"Plans? Who makes plans on a spaceship?" I looked at him like he was nuts.

"I don't know," He sighed. "Perhaps you were meeting Jack for dinner."

Jack? What the hell would I be meeting Jack- I followed his gaze and realized that these were date clothes. I was wearing god damn date clothes. So I obviously had to be going somewhere.

"No, no. We're not-" How many times could you want to die in a day? "Just felt like wearing something new."

He watched me for a moment, probably seeing right through my lies. "Well, it suits you." He offered. "So would it be alright to speak with you now?"

"Sure," it physically pained me to agree, even if he was being polite. "Come in." A talk. Right. That was just the thing I'd been mustering the courage to go do. Maybe this would be the chance I needed. He walked inside and I made sure there was absolutely no one lingering in the hall that might have something important to say, or just anything that could save me from actually having to go through with this. No such luck.

Okay. Just…just look at him and tell him. I was really going to do this. Absolutely. No turning back. Just as soon as I figured out…you know, how. I'd get right on it.

"Thank you." He half smiled as I closed the door again. Apparently, he was unaware of how reluctant I had actually been to let him in at all. His eyes darted around, taking in the room's details with interest when I realized the last time he'd been in here had been when we- Er. No. Forget that thought. We don't need to think about that. Regardless, the last time he'd been here, he didn't remember. So this was technically new to him.

"It changes a lot," I tried to swallow the tightness in my throat to no avail. "Like, there was a couch here just before you got here. And I used to have bunk beds, but she stopped bringing those out a couple weeks ago. I dunno why." Was I rambling? This sounded a lot like rambling. Shut. Up.

"Yes, the ship does like to keep things interesting. I've been meaning to speak with you about what happened in the medical bay." His eyes finally returned to mine with an unnerving focus.

I tried to keep my face impassive. Oh? The medical bay? What happened there? You mean when you kissed me so hard I forgot there were psycho killers on the loose? Is that what you're referring to? No, probably not. It would be silly of him to think about mentioning that since he was a robot, incapable of understanding that he couldn't do things like that to people he had no interest in. Because he was in love with Ailla…even though he was a robot…without feelings. The metaphor needed some work.

"I wanted to apologize," he said after a significant pause. "It was…it was inappropriate behavior. I may have gotten carried away with everything that was happening and I didn't intend for that to happen."

May have? May have? Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Most people don't get that 'carried away' unless they plan on putting out. "Sure," is what I said instead, nodding eagerly. "I mean, it was a stressful day. It's no big deal. We're…we're friends. That sort of thing happens sometimes. It's totally fine." I might have been overselling it a little, but I was more occupied with burying my confession to him deep deep inside where no one would ever hear of it again. Ever. At least he'd saved me the embarrassment of having been refused after I opened my stupid mouth. That was nice of him, even if he'd done it unknowingly.

He nodded in agreement, but a curious frown caused him to pause. "Is that…does that sort of thing happen often with other 'friends' of yours?" It was hard to know if he were genuinely asking, or if he was mocking me. Either way, it had still caught me off guard.

"Well, no. Okay. Not exactly. But it's not like I used to get into this kind of trouble before, so it's not quite a fair comparison. I was just kinda saying that, I get it. You know? Like that time with you and Ailla. Well…or not," no, that wasn't the comparison I was wanting to make. "Because, I mean you guys, you know. Clicked. But I get what you were saying." This was what this conversation was going to devolve into now anyway, wasn't it? Him explaining how kissing me had been a mistake because he was actually interested in kissing her. And then he was going to ask for relationship advice because we were 'friends'. Ugh. I hate my life so hard. He should consider himself lucky that I was such a good sport and trying to make this as easy as possible on him instead of exposing him to the internal screaming I was currently experiencing.

"Clicked?" He was doing a great impression of the Doctor now, being willfully ignorant. Sure, why would he want to make this any less awkward than it needs to be? Where would the fun in that be?

"Yeah, you know. Clicked. As in, together? Or 'more than friends'? It's great. She's amazing. I mean, really, she's just super." I sounded like some kind of Stepford wife spouting generic friendly things to say. Of course, they were true, which made me want to say them even less. He was looking at me in that calculating way, like he was trying to read my thoughts. I did my best not to look at the floor, because that would only make me look guilty. Or jealous. While both of those might be true, I didn't need him knowing that now. Or, alternatively, ever.

"You think we're…together?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well…yes? Maybe not 'together' together, but that's kind of the direction you're heading." No, that was definitely the direction they were heading. Besides, it was always going to happen, it had been inevitable ever since we had run into Ailla in the TARDIS. Why should that be a surprise to anyone?

"What gave you that impression?"

Well, if I'd known he was going to want me to defend my theories, I would have made him a damn power point. "I guess, you guys have been having out a lot. And you've got a history together." I shrugged. I'd already mentally prepared the first two slides in my presentation. First card 'screw', second card 'you' with some kind of illustrative middle finger clip art.

"That is true. But we have a history, do we not?" He was determined to get a rise out of me, for whatever reason. But the joke was on him. I'm not going to get flustered and I'm going to prove my point.

"Okay, sure. But it's not like- I mean, you and Ailla had a long term thing, and it was…romantic," I said the word carefully. Mentally reminding myself to shut the hell up about the fact that I also shared a romantic history with the Professor. Just…just shut up already. "Plus, you chose her as a companion. I just kind of showed up with the luggage."

He frowned at me. "Are you also having trouble recalling memories?"

"Um. No?"

"It's just that I remember quite clearly a specific instance of asking you to come along. It was at that shopping establishment in that boorish little town. What did they call it again, WalCost?" He shrugged. "But, of course. You know I have my own struggles with memory, so perhaps I've got that wrong."

"Nope." I was not amused. Not by him calling my, admittedly boorish town, boorish. Not by that smug look on his face. "You got it right. But, that was probably just guilt from when I saved your ass."

"I assure you, it wasn't guilt that prompted me to come find you again." He had gotten quite serious there, and I wasn't really sure what to make of it. Or even why we were talking about it at all. When had this conversation gone so totally off the rails?

"Okay," I put my hands up in mock defeat. "All I was trying to say, is that I get it. The whole…kissing thing was an accident. It's fine. I'm not interested in getting in your way. You and Ailla can, you know, pursue, or not pursue each other. Whatever. It's all fine."

He tilted his head curiously. "What is your fixation on Ailla and I having some sort of relationship?"

"I don't have a fixation." I said, a bit defensively. "It's just…Donna said you two were spending a lot of time together."

"I didn't realize you were so interested in how I spent my time." He raised his eyebrow. "Besides, were you not the one who asked me to befriend Ailla?"

Blurting out 'I'm not! I don't care at all!' just seemed like it would send the wrong message. Namely, that I was a big fat liar. Was he honestly trying to blame this on me though? That he was only hanging out with her because I said he should? What total bullshit. Since when did he listen to the things I say? Since never. That's when.

"Well, okay. Yeah. But don't act like it was a big chore. She's also incredibly strong, beautiful, and brilliant. And totally worth befriending to boot. I guess it just kind of made sense to me that you two were together." Add that to the fact that I was pretty sure Ailla herself was interested in rekindling that flame.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But she's certainly not the only beautiful and brilliant person on the ship 'worth' befriending." It was criminal the way he looked at people, criminal. And rude. Blood rushed up to my face so fast I thought I might actually pass out. Instead, I looked away at a really interesting spot on the wall. He could be a real annoying little shit when he wanted to be.

"I'm sure Jack would be flattered," I said, making a face. "So then what's the deal then? You aren't into dating anymore?" This was probably showing too much interest, but I was already a tomato, it really couldn't get any worse at this point.

"No, I'm simply not interested in her." He said it so matter-of-fact that I may have rolled my eyes. "I was a different person when we were…involved before. It became more clear from the way she discussed Darkheart and what happened when she died…"

"Wait, you're not interested in her because she lied to you?" I snorted. "That's sort of calling the kettle black, isn't it? And metal. And a kettle. And any other comparisons that mean you're exactly the same."

"I didn't-" he looked at me sharply. "When did you hear about Darkheart?"

Damn. Really should learn when to keep my mouth shut. Or maybe people should just stop telling me things. "Oh, you know. Girl talk." My smile wasn't very convincing, but evidently he didn't really care that much.

"Regardless, no. That is not something I held against her. Certainly not with my history of which you were so kind to remind me." The amount of self-loathing in his voice almost made me feel badly for him, but that was probably just a trick of his. "But when she spoke of our 'relationship' if you could call it that, I began to remember bits and pieces. It was a much…darker attraction. I was less of a monster than I came to be, but there was still much of me that was…broken. It is hard to describe, as I'm still not entirely sure what it was." He frowned, apparently another gap in his mind. "So when she died, I lost what little control I had. I went completely and absolutely mad."

"Well…" here it was, relationship guru extraordinaire! My time to shine. Just because I wasn't exactly happy about doing it, didn't mean I couldn't do it well. "That kind of thing does happen when people you care about get hurt." In fact, I knew exactly what that felt like, firsthand experience. Granted, I hadn't ended up blowing up a planet, but I was new to the game. I'm sure a couple more traumatizing events would have me at least up to destroying a moon here shortly. No, I'm kidding. Don't let that bite me in the ass later.

"It doesn't," he scowled. "Or it shouldn't. Not when you truly-" he shook his head in a frustrated gesture, and for the first time, avoided looking at me. "I did care for her, but I was more angered that she'd been taken from me. I saw her as more possession than equal. I mourned hardly at all. I was consumed by my rage. I weaponized the Darkheart, destroyed a planet with it, and I felt justified doing so." The way he spoke so coldly about it was a tad frightening, but it was also nice to have a reminder that he probably was a bit of a psychopath and it wasn't just a fun nickname I'd made up for him.

"But…you were trying to save her, right?"

There was a hollow look in his eyes when he looked at me again. "Sure, that was the idea. But once I had that power under my control? To change entire species? To change time itself? I have my doubts I would have been the sort of man who wouldn't let that kind of control…go to my head." He said with a wry smile.

"Well," I shrugged. "You are kind of an idiot."

He chuckled. "I'm an enormous idiot."

"At least you know that now." I offered. "Look, I'm not trying to say what you did was in any way right, or okay." I wanted that to be very clear. Blowing up plants was decidedly on the naughty list. Santa would not approve. "But maybe you've just got a flare for drama? Lots of people I know do. They're not generally as…lethal. But you are different now. You're probably like…eighty percent less likely to blow anything up again." It felt weird trying to reassure him about this, but it seemed like he needed it badly. Even if he was dead inside.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." But he seemed unmoved. Well, of course he was. He was a robot.

"So…the whole planet debacle isn't really the issue between you two?"

"No. I've learned there is a difference between solely wanting to be revered and actually caring."

"Well, there you go. Knowing is half the battle, right? Did you have an epiphany when you remembered your old pet turtle, Donatello?" I was trying to make things comfortably un-serious again, but he didn't seem to be in the mood.

"No. It was when the Unwritten came into the medical bay," oh, so we were going to bring that up again. Super. Escaping this special customized brand of humiliation he brought me was apparently never going to happen. "You didn't understand the language I was speaking."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "You guys said it was commands, cause you're el numero uno in imaginary time lord prison camp. Or you were supposed to be." I had been paying attention. Sort of.

"That wasn't the entirety of it. I didn't realize I could command them at all, initially. But when they hurt you I…I begged them to stop. To take me instead." I blinked. That was not at all what I was expecting. Actually, part of me thought he was lying, because that somehow seemed more fitting.

"Wow…that…that was really unnecessary. And a terrible idea." It was a stupid idea. They hadn't really struck me as the agreeable sort who might go for that kind of thing. They struck me as the type that would just make the torturing more awful because he had asked a favor. And if they had agreed? And I'd have to watch him get tortured to death just so they'd leave me alone? Well, he had better hope they would have killed him, because I sure as hell would have finished the job. Stupid. Just really really stupid.

Was it a little flattering? Maybe.

But more confusing. Mostly confusing. Lots and lots of confusion over here.

"Perhaps," the corner of his mouth curled upward. "But I was desperate."

"Oh," I cleared my throat. Yeah. I was still just confused. But I tried to act casual. "Well… don't go blowing up any planets. Cause I will come back and haunt your ass." I pointed a warning finger in his direction.

"That's the point, Fitzgerald." He said, slightly exasperated.

"That I would come back and haunt you?" He was really bad at making points. Or I was an idiot. Actually, they were both true.

"No. The point is that I wouldn't destroy a planet, or harness a weapon, simply to sooth my own ego." He started to pace the room, and ramble. I had never before heard him ramble. "You're not some…some fixation for a vain man to avenge. I'd rather you live. You're not apt to admire me simply because I could do such a thing. And yet I find myself wanting your admiration. Even with your absurdly silly ideals and frankly an appalling penchant for trouble. But even more ridiculous is that I want you to know these things, which are clearly points of fault in my own character. I never understood the need for such trivial sentimentalities, never needed to before now." His tone was snide, and he had been speaking impossibly fast. But…I was pretty sure he had been saying something…nice. He had used a lot of big words, and his face sort of looked like he had been sucking on a lemon, so it was hard to be totally sure.

"Wait. You've…you've lost me here." He stopped his pacing to shook me an annoyed look. "I thought we were talking about your hang-up with getting back together with Ailla." I frowned. We needed to be talking about that, because whatever this was turning into, I really wasn't prepared for. At all.

"You are impossibly thick sometimes." He said with an frustrated huff. "I don't want her."

"Okay," my voice had gotten a little sharp. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't really need him reminding me I was an idiot. I was totally aware. "Point made, I just-"

"I want you." He snapped. The irritation in his voice should have been reassuring, I was good at yelling matches. Comfortable with them, even. But the words? Well. The words were all wrong. I stood there, staring at him and the aggravation slowly faded from his face. I think he'd only just realized what he'd actually said. For a second, I thought I could see something through that mask of his, it looked a bit like fear. Which was great, because that meant we were on the same page, because what the hell was he talking about? Me? Me? Had he seen me recently? That was impossible. And ridiculous. And impossible. He couldn't want me. I was generic, boring, and, kind of obnoxious. Almost all the time. And that was me being nice about it. Another thing I wasn't any good at. The list of things wrong with me was pretty much endless.

Then, to put the icing on the cake, when you compared me to Ailla, the shining example of everything-kind. Well. It was a joke really. A hilarious and painful joke. That was more funny 'sad', than funny 'ha-ha'. Well, more sad for me. Funny for everyone else.

But he wasn't laughing. He was just standing there. Waiting for me to respond? I don't know. Is there a word for when you're stupefied because someone's completely blindsided you, and at the same time, too terrified to speak, because you have no idea what you should say? Terrif-stupefied? Stup-errified? I don't know, I'd come up with something. Whatever it was, I was definitely feeling it.

He shook his head and finally broke eye contact, giving me a chance to breathe again. It looked like he took my silence as a dismissal and turned for the door.

"I'm sorry I came, it was…it was ridiculous for me to think-" He shook his head again. "I'm sorry." He said in a clipped tone as he reached for the button to open the door again, but I found myself reflexively reaching out to stop him.

"Don't-" my voice faltered, feeling both idiotic and nervous. It was a big day for feelings. "Don't go." That had literally taken all the courage I'd ever had to say, times eleven. His eyes narrowed on my grip and that was almost enough to make me let go. Really should have planned something for this moment. Like…words. Words would be really great right now. Like the ones that I had originally planned on telling him? Professor…I…like…you? No? Nothing? You're just going to sit there like a mute. I opened my mouth, hoping maybe something would come out, but no such luck. My brain chose that moment to fail me spectacularly. But to be fair, it had been failing me for most of my life now. No reason why it should suddenly change just because I desperately wanted it to.

Still. Would have been nice. Especially since it looked like he was pulling away again. My heart raced as I stepped closer to him, my throat uncomfortably dry. I really didn't have a plan, but closing the distance between us seemed to have gotten his attention again. Christ, I really had no idea what the hell I was doing.

I wanted him to stay. I knew that. Damned if I could say it out loud though.

Instead, I reached up with my other hand to cup his cheek and traced my thumb just below his lip. He didn't immediately jerk away, which gave me a terrifying kind of thrill. His eyes flicked down to my mouth once, looking uncertain. That was hardly what I'd consider permission, but carpe diem and all that crap, right?

I had to stand on my toes and lean against him to match his height, and while that should have been the point of no return, I still hesitated. He was close enough now that I could feel his hot breath against my face and my stomach was twisting itself into knots. No idea what the hell I was waiting for, the horde of supercharged butterflies in my gut made it pretty clear how badly I wanted to do this. And really, it'd been obvious for some time now, even if I'd determinedly refused to acknowledge it. I was a trooper like that. Or just obnoxiously stubborn.

My hand slid from his face and back through that thick hair of his, pulling him forward so I could brush my lips against the corner of his mouth, still tentative, afraid. And stupid excited. A real hot mess of insanity going on over here. Any moment now, he'd throw in the towel. He'd say, 'Haha, just kidding. Didn't think you'd actually go for it'. You know, the sort of shit thing I had come to expect from my daily life.

When I finally bit the bullet and pressed my mouth against his, he hissed in a sharp breath. I froze, unsure if that was a bad sign; but then his arms came up around my back, cool fingers grazing my bare skin, leaving goose bumps in his wake. He pulled me tighter against him, returning the kiss with a startling enthusiasm that had my cloud of doubts bursting into flames, or whatever the hell it was that clouds did to vanish.

It was replaced with a hot flood of need deep in my stomach that radiated through me in turbocharged waves. Definitely a good sign. I deepened the kiss, parting my lips to trace my tongue against the inside edge of his own. His mouth opened and pressed hard against mine, consuming in its intensity, reminding me intimately how good he had been at this before. What started out innocently enough, was now rapidly growing out of hand. Not that my hormones had a problem with that. No, wherever this was headed, I had their full support. My fist tightened in his hair and I felt more than heard his groan. There may have been a small smile of satisfaction on my face as he pulled slowly away.

"That was-" his voice was rough as he spoke, watching me with half-lidded eyes. His hands were inching higher and higher up my shirt, as though every nerve in my body didn't take notice. "I've been looking forward to that for some time."

"Thought you said this was inappropriate behavior?" I raised an eyebrow. A silent laugh rumbled deep in his chest and I felt it through the thin fabric that still separated us. The goofy grin he wore so infrequently started to make an appearance. It wasn't my fault it was charming as hell, even if it was crooked.

"I only said that so you'd stop avoiding me." He bent to place a kiss against my jaw. "So I could do it again."

"That's lying." I chided, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, but who was I kidding, I had no intention of letting him stop until this was finished.

A/N: Hey there! That was a freakishly long chapter. Lordy. *ahem* anyway. I thought now might be the opportune time to mention that this is where the alleged 'smut' scene is going to come into play. I'm going to post it as a one shot separate from the story, so the people who want to avoid it can, and so I don't have to bump the rating here, since it's literally one chapter of M material. If that's a big deal for anyone, maybe I'll swap it, but for now I think it'll be fine.

Anyway, will be posting chapter '18.5' pretty shortly here as I mostly wrote them together, which makes this an ungodly freaking monster of a chapter. Need to put a lid on that.

Thanks for reading!

And a huge HUGE HUUUUUGE thank you to Tyantha and silverserpent08 for being FANTASTIC beta readers for me. I REALLY NEEDED YOUR HELP AND YOU WERE AWESOME. THANK. YOU.