"Inventing the Future"

Author's Note: Heavy topics and mushy stuff dead ahead! Also, some racy subject matter. I'm a little nervous to be posting this chapter, but I thought it would be interesting to explore how two inexperienced characters might approach this subject. This is as close as I'll ever cut it with this sort of thing. Hopefully I still kept it at a T rating. Sorry, no bedroom scene for you! Still, younger readers should probably skip this (not that you will, you little pervs). Seriously, though, I hope I didn't go overboard. :/

"Chapter 18: Discussions and Awkwardness"

Most of the mess in Jaming's garage had been cleaned up, and the location was relatively private while still being socially appropriate, so this was where he brought her. "Would you like something to drink? I have ginger ale, bottled water, grape juice..." She shook her head, and he got himself a ginger ale before crossing the room to sit with her on the work bench.

He opened his soda, took a sip, and he waited for her to say something. Finally, when it seemed like she was content stay silent, he gently prompted her. "What did she say that upset you so?"

Meredith looked away, then got up and paced aimlessly. He had never seen her like this before! Agitated, emotional, unable to sit still for long. Was this how he was the few times she had seen him lose it? How had she dealt with it?

Patience. He needed to be patient. But he had never been the type to just sit and wait! She was the patient one. He needed to fix things! And he couldn't fix this.

Finally, Meredith leaned against the work table. "It wasn't the fight. That's nothing new. It was her telling me I'm as stubborn as my father. He hasn't even been gone a year yet, and she used him to get at me."

Jaming's mouth sagged open almost in disbelief. He hadn't caught that before, but he remembered Sarah shouting at her daughter, and that was the first thing he was actually able to hear from where he was sitting. "I'm sorry."

Meredith shook her head and looked down, her arms folded almost as if she were hugging herself. "I guess it's a stupid thing to get upset about..."

"You forget who you're talking to," he set down his ginger ale and walked over to her, leaning against the table with her. "It is not a stupid thing to get upset about. He was your father; you loved him. Just as I loved my own parents. Grief has no time limit. Even when it's no longer new, there will still be some things that are hard for you to face. Trust me, I know."

She reached over and squeezed his hand, and they stood in silence for a while. The only sound to be heard was the soft fizzing noise from an open can of ginger ale.

"My father's death was actually my reason for leaving Palm Brinks," she told him after several minutes had passed. "Not right away, you understand...but everything I saw reminded me of him. And I just couldn't take living there anymore. I couldn't move on. When the Blackstone Railroad opened up again, I missed the first train. But eventually I boarded it and ended up here. And I loved it here! It was so different. I still had the memories, but it didn't hurt as much to visit them."

Jaming nodded mutely, understanding exactly where she was coming from. As he thought about that comment again, he became convinced that Meredith's mother didn't know how hurtful it was, and he suspected that several barbs were thrown from both sides. He still sided firmly with Meredith, but he was sorry that this had happened at all. Sarah was surely grieving, too. He knew better than to point that out just now, though.

"Listen, I don't want you to think that my mother's an evil shrew, or that we hate each other," Meredith added.

Jaming was taken aback by this, and he quickly shook his head. "Oh! No, I don't think that."

"But growing up, she was..." Meredith squinted a bit as she searched for the words, and finally she shook her head. "I think the word I'm looking for is 'overprotective'. I was bullied a lot when I was younger, and she just kept hovering long after it stopped. Always telling me what I should and shouldn't do, long after I turned eighteen, and getting all huffy when I didn't do what she told me. I don't know how much of it was protectiveness, how much of it was habit, or how much of it was about control. I've just had it up to my eyeballs with the emotional blackmail, y'know?"

Jaming nodded slowly. He believed he understood the situation well enough. "Perhaps your needs clash with hers. She might be afraid of losing you as well..."

He immediately regretted his choice of words when he saw her eyes well up with tears again, and he drew her into a hug. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're probably right. I know she misses him. And I know she wants me to be there, but I just can't!" she sobbed, breaking down completely for the second time that evening. "I'm sorry...I must sound like such a spoiled brat! But I don't know what the right thing to do is!"

'Self-recriminations. Where have I heard that before?' Jaming thought sarcastically, strongly reminded of conversations they had previously had where he was the one who was wallowing in self-loathing. "No, Meredith. You sound like an adult who is frustrated with being treated like a child, and who needs to grieve for her father in her own way, not her mother's way. You're...what, twenty-five?"

Laughing tearfully, Meredith shook her head, the side of her face still pressed against his chest. "You're generous...I'm thirty."

'A year younger than I.' He thought.

"Then, no wonder you're frustrated! Meredith, you have the right to live where you please and how you please. Your mother can't make these decisions for you, and she needs to understand that."

"And if she can't?"

He sighed. "I don't mean to sound like I'm being cold about this, but that's her problem. She uses guilt because it works. And when it stops working, maybe she'll realize that her 'requests' are unreasonable for any adult to make of another. And you have nothing to be guilty about! You figured out what you wanted, and you went out and made it happen."

Meredith sniffled, used Jaming's handkerchief once more, and she seemed to have calmed down again. She looked up again with a shadow of her usual impish smirk. "You sure you're not a doctor of psychology?"

He raised an eyebrow and hoped that what he said next would make her laugh. "Hm. That would explain why most of my inventions tend to go haywire..."

As he hoped, she gave a small laugh. Then, pocketing the handkerchief for later laundering, she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, Jaming. Do you know how wonderful you are?"

"Yes," he deadpanned, and once again, he was rewarded by the music of her laughter. He smiled and shook his head. "Not really, no. But I'm glad you think so."

"I do."

It was her serious tone of voice that wiped the smile from his face, and all at once his heart was hammering in his chest.

'She's standing awfully close. She's breathing faster than usual. Her pupils are dilated. She can't be thinking about that, can she? We're alone. I can see right down the front of her shirt. No you don't; stay down! It's neither the time nor the place for that! If I did anything right now, wouldn't that be considered taking advantage of her? I wish I knew what all of the unspoken rules were! I want it to happen, but maybe not like this! Gods, she smells good. She's leaning in closer...Oh, help!'

"Um...Meredith, I..." Hating the tremble he heard in his voice, he tried to swallow, but his mouth was devoid of saliva and the sides of his throat felt like they were sticking together.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, seeming confused.

Jaming grabbed a book from the work table and walked over to his bench, opening the book and placing it strategically on his lap when he sat down. He quickly picked up his forgotten can of ginger ale, and he lifted it to his mouth with a hand that shook. "No...Just a little thirsty. There's more in the refrigerator, if you want some."

Meredith took in his nervous demeanor, saw that he was 'reading' the book upside-down, saw where he was holding the book, and she realized what had happened. "Thanks, I am a bit thirsty, now that you mention it."

She made a beeline for the fridge, keeping her back to Jaming while she selected and opened her beverage. She hadn't meant for things to take a turn like that! Now the poor guy was sitting there with a raging hard-on, she knew it, he knew that she knew it, and they were both acting like it hadn't happened.

But why was he so embarrassed? They were both adults. They were both interested. The timing might be a little bit off, but then again, it might be perfect. The loved each other, and they were of age. Meredith thought it was a bit strange that he was the frightened one here! Wasn't it usually the other way around?

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked in an almost off-hand manner.

Jaming raised his head and stared at her, and Meredith realized that he really was scared! Wordlessly, he shook his head to indicate the negative.

She walked over and sat down beside him, though she left a good foot of space in between them. "Good to know."

"I can explain..."

"Just...hear me out first, okay?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and seemed to be dreading what she had to say.

Meredith took a sip of water from her bottle, put the lid back on, and turned to face him. "We don't have to do anything. If you're not ready, then you're not ready. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's not your fault. Part of it is the timing. And a lot of it is...well, most men seem to have these experiences at an earlier age. I mean...mph..." Now he was rubbing his face.

Meredith smiled softly, though it was probably a good thing he didn't see it. "It's okay. It's all new to me, too."

"It's like...Well, it's almost like working from a blueprint I only got to glance at for a second. I...ehhh...I know what goes where, but...putting it into practice is a little bit different. I can't believe I just told you that..."

"You can tell me anything," she replied, "I promise, I'll never laugh at you. Well, not unless we're playing around, which is a bit different. And I won't tell anyone, either."

"And if you don't...er...like it?" His face was nearly purple.

"I think there's time to learn all that, don't you?"

He swallowed hard, picked up his ginger ale again, and he finished it in one go before shyly sliding a few inches towards her on the bench. "Do you think...maybe...there's time tonight?"

So, he was still interested.

Meredith licked her lips and leaned over, placing a kiss on his jawline that caused him to shiver. Then she whispered so closely to the blue shell of his ear that her breath tickled him, "My place or yours?"

Desperation! "Whichever is the closest."