Author's Notes: Most of this was written before Season 3, the sex scenes being salvaged from previous chapters where I ultimately decided they didn't fit there. I hope they fit here.
Chapter 31
Day 14
Maeve was leaning against the locker beside Otis', watching him as he transferred items between it and his bag.
"I forgot to ask," he said. "How did you go with tutoring Eric yesterday?"
"Good," she said. "I think."
"You think?"
"He was really trying but I'm not sure he was completely getting the interactions of each part of the limbic system."
"That's really hard. I think I just about understand them," Otis said.
"I don't think I was explaining it properly. I was making assumptions about what he already knew."
"You'll get better with practice."
"Hmmm," Maeve hummed, dubiously.
"But do you think you helped him at least a little?"
"He was okay with the other stuff. Understood most of the basics already. I know I taught him a few things. I just hope he'll do well enough with those to get a pass."
"You shouldn't feel bad. It's hard to crunch-tutor someone with basically no notice when the exam's in two days."
"One day. It's tomorrow."
"Yes, but yesterday it was two days and you did the tutoring yesterday."
"You can be so fucking pedantic, muppet," Maeve sighed, amused.
"You love me for it," Otis smirked.
"I love you in spite of it."
"So did you enjoy tutoring him?"
"Yeah, I did," Maeve said. "More than I thought I would." She was a silent for a moment then murmured. "I think I'll give him a couple of freebies. Today and tomorrow. If he still wants me to help next term, I'll put together a proper plan."
"What a kind person you are," Otis said, fondly mocking.
"Fuck you," Maeve smirked, then remembered something. "Oh, I forgot to tell you."
"What?" Otis asked.
"Um…" she began hesitantly. "When you said what you said to Ruby – and I really appreciate that, muppet – Eric made the connection with the photo."
"What?" Otis was horrified.
"I mean, he won't tell anyone," Maeve said. "I just thought you should be aware."
"This is Eric we're talking about."
"I told him I would split him from butt to brainstem and replace his eyeballs with his real balls. I think that convinced him."
"But if Eric heard…" Otis said, worried.
"You weren't talking that loud, muppet. The tables around probably didn't hear. They were further away. But I'll keep an ear out for murmurings. Just don't bring it up with Eric. It's dealt with. Okay?"
Eric and Otis sat leaning against the wall outside the administration building.
"She's really smart," Eric said. "And she didn't even get annoyed when I thought the kidney was a liver."
"There's only one liver. And two kidneys."
"I didn't know that."
"You're not that ignorant, Eric," Otis said, smirking. "She said it was the limbic system you had a problem with."
"I really don't understand the brain," Eric lamented.
"I'm having a hard time getting to grips with it myself."
"Oh, don't be so fake modest, Otis. You know so much. That's why you can do the clinic thing."
"That involves the mind not the brain. The mind-"
"Don't explain. I need a break from thinking. My mind is dribbling out my ears."
"That would be the brain. Possibly carrying parts of the mind with it."
Eric groaned. "I'll never understand it."
"Maeve liked your sisters. She said they were really noisy but she liked them."
"They want to know if she's coming over again," Eric said. "They want to put pink in their hair now."
Otis was silent for a moment, then said, "Thank you for asking Maeve to help tutor you."
"I didn't do it because I think she needs the money. I actually need the help."
"No, I mean… thank you for letting Maeve have the opportunity to know more people may like her than she thinks."
"She's really different up close than I thought she would be."
"You make her sound like something caged in a zoo."
"Should I get her something for Christmas?" Eric asked, concerned.
"If you want," Otis said. "Just don't go big. She told me not to go stupid."
"What should I get her?"
"I don't even know what I'm getting her."
"She's your girlfriend. You better think of something."
"Get her a bangle," Otis said, inspired. "Get her a bangle that says 'Eric'."
"I should give her a bangle with my name on it?"
"No, get her a bangle that when she looks at it she immediately thinks 'Eric'. That's who 'Eric' is."
Eric pondered then nodded to himself, pleased. "I know exactly what it's going to look like."
Maeve and Aimee sat on stools at a bench in the currently-empty chemistry lab, staring at a book laid flat and open in front of them. Maeve had a finger resting on a page just beside an illustration.
"And this is what we get from the reaction and they're called….?" Maeve asked.
"The products," Aimee said.
"Right," Maeve said.
"I know all that, babe," Aimee whispered.
"Sorry," said Maeve with a wince. "I just don't know… I'm not sure how I should be doing this."
"I know what happens but I don't know why," Aimee said, glumly. "I mean, why do this bunch of balls have an orgy here and then go off as this bunch of balls?"
"They're called atoms, Aimee," Maeve said, gently, softly amused.
"I know," Aimee said, smirking. "But I really don't understand why they become one ball or a group of balls after their big bang. That's just beyond me."
"It's not beyond you. You just don't know the rules yet."
"That's what I need. Tell me what the rules are."
"Okay," Maeve said and brought the book closer to herself, flipping the pages. "Let me find the periodic table."
"So have you got Otis a present, yet?" Aimee asked.
"I wasn't even thinking about it till Monday when Eric asked him that," Maeve said, looking at Aimee and sighing. "I don't know what to get him."
"Give him you."
"He has me whenever he wants me."
"You still haven't…?"
"Not all the way," Maeve said, quietly.
Aimee gazed at Maeve for a moment then asked, "What does he like?"
"Videogames but I can't afford those."
"Ask Eric."
"Mmmmm," Maeve hummed.
"Hey, do you think we'll be going back to Otis' place after the movies on Saturday?"
"I don't know what we'll be doing."
"It'll be good if we do. It was really good hanging out with all of you there."
"You just want to shag Steve in a comfortable bed again."
Steve, Aimee and Otis sat at one side of a round table in the canteen, eating their lunch silently while Maeve and Eric were on the other side of the table with a textbook open in front of them. Eric had a pencil in hand and was scribbling notes on a piece of paper.
Maeve was holding her finger against an illustration on one page.
"That's the amygdala," she said. "That controls the fight or flight response."
"Like when I punched Anwar instead of just keeping walking?"
"Yeah, I think that would fit. That was your anger responding."
"But it's not just anger?" Eric asked, uncertainly.
"No," Maeve said, firmly, shaking her head. "There's fear. Imagine a great big whacking great spider dropped onto the table in front of us." She waved her hands around to give the vague impression of a great big whacking great spider.
"You said 'great' twice," Otis pointed out, amused.
Maeve gave him a distracted finger but kept her focus on Eric. "How would you respond?"
"I would disappear and you would see my outline in the wall behind me."
"That's the flight response."
"You'd do the fight one, wouldn't you?" Eric asked rhetorically.
Maeve nodded. "I'd attack it with my sword."
"You haven't got a sword."
Maeve picked up a pencil from the table and brandished it before Eric. "The pen is mightier than the sword," she said, mock pompously.
"That's a pencil," Eric pointed out.
Maeve's shoulders slumped and she looked across the table at Otis, ignoring the gentle smile on Aimee's face. "He's definitely your friend."
"Eric," said Lily, appearing at the table beside them.
"Shit," said Maeve.
"Fuck," said Aimee.
"Christ," said Otis.
Steve looked up at Lily, surprised.
"Hi, Lily," Eric said, happily, beaming brightly at the girl looking down at him.
Lily held out a piece of paper to him. "Can you give authorisation for using your image?"
Eric took the piece of paper from her. "What's this?" he asked as he looked at it.
"It's your part of the band poster for the Area Music Finals," Lily said in her usual monotone. "We'll combine all the images into one."
"The finals aren't till the end of January," Eric said, confused.
"We need to get authorisations now so we can get final approvals in time for printing," Lily said.
"Why is there another me behind the normal me?" Eric asked, puzzled.
"That's a representation of your band name," Lily said. "We all have one."
"What's my band name?" Eric asked in a tone of complete ignorance that this was even a thing.
"Super Horn," Lily said.
Maeve and Otis glanced at each other, amused.
"Can you sign it, please?" Lily asked. "Just at the bottom."
"My ears don't look like that," Eric protested, affronted.
"Let me see, Eric," Otis said.
Eric turned the drawing around to show Otis.
Steve and Aimee nodded appreciatively as they looked at it.
"I'm afraid so, Eric," Otis said.
"Hmmmph," Eric harrumphed and turned the paper around to study it. He frowned and peered closer. "Is that a penis-shaped tentacle?"
"Bugger," said Lily, flatly. "I thought I'd disguised it."
She held out her hand and Eric gave her the piece of paper to unhappily study it.
"You could turn it into a flower," Eric suggested.
Lily thought for a moment, then nodded approvingly.
"Could I borrow your pencil?" she asked Maeve.
Maeve held out her pencil indifferently and Lily took it from her.
"Thanks," Lily said then put the paper on the tabletop and leaned over and began to draw.
Maeve studied the drawing, intrigued. She nodded approvingly.
"You're a very good drawer," Maeve said.
"Thank you," Lily said without looking up from her work. "I prefer the term illustrator."
"Sorry. Very good illustrator," Maeve amended, rolling her eyes, amused.
"What's your band name, Lily?" Otis asked.
"Flute Blower," Lily said, flatly.
Otis covered his mouth with his hand and refused to look at Maeve.
"Who gave us band names?" Eric asked, completely confused.
"I did," Lily said, then straightened and studied the updated drawing, scrunching her face unhappily. "Now it looks like it's cumming."
Maeve and Aimee leaned against the outside wall of the old toilet block, each smoking a cigarette in silence.
Maeve suddenly snorted and looked at the ground, grimacing.
"What?" Aimee asked, startled.
"Nothing," Maeve mumbled.
"Babe?" Aimee asked, concerned.
"Doesn't matter," Maeve said and took a drag of her cigarette.
"What's wrong, babe?" Aimee asked, now very concerned.
"It's not wrong," Maeve sighed. "It's just… Look at me back there. I thought it was my period, but… It's not even two weeks and it's… I'm not recognising myself."
"I am," Aimee said gently, gazing fondly at Maeve.
"From when?" Maeve snorted.
"Before Mark Johnson."
"Simon Furthassle was before Mark Johnson," Maeve said quietly.
"Yeah, but you didn't change until after Mark Johnson," Aimee said softly. "I'm seeing the friend I met. It's good."
Maeve rested her head on Aimee's shoulder.
"Have I ever told you how much I appreciated you being my friend, Aimes?" Maeve asked.
"Not in words, pet," Aimee said. "I knew."
"I don't know what it would have been like without you."
"I wish I'd told The Untouchables to fuck off years ago," Aimee said. "I'm sorry."
"They would have done all that shit anyway. At least I had a spy in their group."
"I was your spy?" Aimee asked, pleased.
"Yeah," said Maeve, smiling. "You were my spy. You weren't a very good spy," she teased. "But you were my spy."
"I'll be a better spy in our new group," Aimee promised.
"I don't need a spy in our new group," Maeve said.
"I'll be your spy anyway," Aimee said.
A tall youth with long lank hair emerged from the door of the toilet block, glanced at the girls then began walking toward the gate leading from the yard.
As the boy disappeared through the gate, Otis stepped through the door of the toilet block and looked at them.
"So did you help him?" Aimee asked.
"I hope so. It was a good start. I'll know in the follow-up. But I still need to research more."
"What's his problem?" Aimee asked.
"Aimes," Maeve said, gently warningly, shaking her head.
"I can't tell you that," Otis said. "That would be a violation of therapist-client confidentiality."
Jean pushed a large trolley along an aisle of the supermarket while Maeve walked beside her.
"Just pick out what you need for yourself, Maeve. We'll see if we can bundle it into specials as we go," Jean said.
"Thanks for letting me come with you," Maeve said.
"It's no trouble," Jean said and stopped the trolley to take some soup cans from the shelf. "Do you want to lump everything together and then we work out your share when we get home?"
"What's easiest for you? 'Cause I've got to get the stuff to my place."
"Are you staying tomorrow night?"
"Um, I don't know yet."
"Well, we can work out giving you a lift over if there's too much."
"I don't want to be a bother, Jean," Maeve murmured.
"It's no bother, Maeve. Helping my son's… Sorry," Jean said, taking some canned vegetables from the shelf.
Maeve pressed her lips together, amused, then looked around. "Hey, where's Otis? I thought he was just straggling."
"He said he had something to get from the other side of the mall. I'm not sure if it was for you or me."
Maeve hitched a breath and forced herself not to flinch. "What…?" she began. "I don't know what to get him. What sort of thing did you get boyfriends when you were our age?"
Jean looked at Maeve, keeping her face as neutral as possible but there was a look Maeve could not understand in the older woman's eyes.
"I'm sorry," Maeve said, embarrassed. "I shouldn't have—"
"Oh, no, Maeve," Jean said quickly, placing her hand gently on the girl's arm before snatching it back. "I've… there's nothing wrong with asking that question, it's just… No-one has ever asked me for my opinion in a situation of this nature and I was… I had not realised how meaningful it would be for me."
Maeve's eye roamed away from Jean's eyes and back toward them, not certain how she felt about that statement, not certain how to respond.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jean sighed, noting Maeve's reaction. "Silly thing to say. To…"
Maeve shook her head, biting her lip, proffering a smile.
Jean, a little embarrassed, turned away and pondered. "What I would give to boyfriends?" she mused. "Nothing elaborate. I always found that the boys who gave me elaborate gifts… I felt – and I know I cannot discern their actual motives – but it always felt to me that they were trying to buy my affection. The value of a gift is not in the price tag."
Maeve nodded her agreement.
"Elaborate gifts may be suitable for long-term relationships but where you and… in this stage of a relationship, something simply from the heart seems appropriate. An enhancement of something personal to them. That you know is important to them. Something that lets them know you see them."
Maeve pondered her words.
"I remember one boy," Jean continued. "I bought a stud for him. Just a little one. He'd been complaining about the lack of variety of those he already owned."
"I can't see Otis getting his ears pierced."
"Oh, it wasn't for the ear."
Maeve pressed her lips together and looked away.
"Sorry. Oversharing mother."
The credits rolled up the screen and Jean sat back satisfied, glancing across at Maeve and Otis snuggled on the lounge.
"That was excellent, Maeve," Jean said. "Thank you for recommending it."
"I think it's my favourite adaptation of Emma," Maeve said. "Of course, I've only seen two." She turned to look up at Otis. "So did you like it?"
"Yes, I did," Otis said.
"Knew you would," Maeve said, smugly.
"I didn't like it because of the reason you assumed I would like it. I liked it in spite of that," Otis said with as much dignity as he could muster.
"What reason was that, Maeve?" Jean asked.
Maeve smirked at Jean. "Oh, the whole stepbrother stepsister dating thing," she said, airily.
Jean hissed in a breath and smiled at the girl's audacity. She met her son's equally amused eyes.
"Shots fired in both directions, I think, Otis," Jean said. "You are either a very brave woman, Maeve, or a very foolhardy one, fighting on two fronts."
"Do you think Maeve has a Napoleon Complex, mum?" Otis asked.
"I have promised not to therapize your friends, Otis," Jean said. "And I will not allow you to trick me into breaking that promise."
"Is that how teens were back in your day?" Maeve asked, then grimaced. "That was your day, wasn't it?"
"A bit after," Jean said. "And not quite like that, but aren't there universalities in the teen experience that we recognise them no matter how they're represented? I'm sure you recognised aspects of your school life in the teen movies you've seen."
"Mmmm," Maeve hummed. "Can probably find a few direct matches in Mean Girls."
"My only problem with teen movies," Otis began, "is that a lot of the time the actors look too old for the characters. There's no way they're a teenager."
"Yes," Jean said. "I don't have a problem with it, but I have a friend who really found it hard to accept until he developed a conceit that teen movies of this type, this tone, this nature do not exist in reality. They exist in the land of John Hughes, which is right next to Narnia and across the river from Oz. He found he enjoyed them better that way."
"Who's John Hughes?" Maeve asked.
"He made the teen movies of my time. I mean, these days there would be problematic aspects to them but I enjoyed them at the time."
"Do I know any, mum?" Otis asked.
"I'm not sure. I haven't watched them since…" She took in an almost-shocked breath. "… Last century. So possibly not. The Breakfast Club. Pretty In Pink."
"Haven't seen them," Otis said.
"The Breakfast Club seems to retain its appeal, at least for members of my generation. We can include them in movie nights when we came back from London, if you like. I wouldn't mind seeing them from an older perspective."
"Sounds good," Otis said. "Maeve…?"
"Yeah," she murmured.
"And if there's anything you'd like to see, Maeve, we can put it on a list," Jean murmured. "Now, I think I'm going to have an early night. Busy day, tomorrow."
Otis lay on his bed in his blue-checked boxers, staring at the screen of his laptop which was sitting on his stomach. He looked up as the door opened and watched Maeve hurry through it, her clothes clutched to her chest.
As she used her bum to push the door closed, Otis said, "Mum'll catch you again if you keep coming in like that."
"I check to make sure the coast is clear," Maeve protested and tossed her clothes onto the nearest chair.
Otis drew in a breath as he realised she was completely naked. "You're not wearing your armour-plating."
"Don't need them, do I?" Maeve said with a flirty smirk and moved toward the bed.
She knelt on the side of the bed, leaned over him and kissed him, tenderly, then lay down and snuggled beside him, hand across his chest.
She looked at the array of large penises he was studying on the laptop screen.
"Is that for the client?" she asked, recovering from her initial surprise.
"His girlfriend says sex with him hurts. His penis is too big for her," Otis said.
"Long or round?" Maeve asked.
"Long."
"Are we talking two coke cans?"
"No."
"'Cause that would hurt me," Maeve murmured.
"He thinks she's going to break up with him."
"Does he actually do enough foreplay?"
"I told him to try that."
"Is this a violation of therapist-client confidentiality?"
"You're my research assistant."
"What else did you tell him?"
"Try different positions. Different angles. Do you have any suggestions what positions might be best for him to try?"
Maeve hesitated a moment, then said, "Um…"
"Oh, yeah," Otis said, uncertainly.
"We haven't had a case in this area since I started actually dating Jackson," Maeve said.
"It feels too singular and intrusive, now," Otis said.
"Maybe you need to keep excluding me as a resource now we're boyfriend/girlfriend?" Maeve said, trying to conceal her disappointment.
"Yeah, that's probably best…" Otis said, trying to conceal his own disappointment.
"I mean, anything we do can be used as part of your research materials," Maeve said. "When we start doing things."
"Yeah, good," Otis said.
They were silent for a moment, then Maeve murmured, "When we do start doing particular things, they could hurt me unless we take it carefully."
"Okay," Otis said.
"I like… being on top. That gives me control. Not that I'll only want to be on top. I want us to… do so many things."
"Uh-huh…" Otis said. "Such as…?"
"I'd like to straddle you across a chair. Standard flat on the back missionary. We'll have to use lube and maybe… slowly. No jackhammering. I don't know. We'll see."
"Okay…" Otis said, quietly.
They lapsed into silence for a moment then Maeve bit her lip and reached out and touched a penis on the screen at random. "Is that you?"
"Maeve…" Otis said, blushing with embarrassment.
"Sorry, I've got my results and I'm clear and I was wanting to see Cute Otis so we could… start our biology tutoring."
Otis looked down at her, gently smirking. "You think I should… put aside my research for tonight?"
"I do."
Otis closed the laptop and set it aside. "So…?"
"You going to wear them all night?" Maeve asked, glancing down.
"Do you want me to take them off?"
"I would love you to take them off."
Maeve gave him space and Otis lifted his butt and dragged down his boxers, tossing them aside. When he lay back on the bed, she snuggled against him again.
"So…" she murmured, gently circling a finger around his chest. "How are we going to do this?"
"Do you want me to try tasting you again?" Otis asked, gently hopeful.
"Not tonight. Not… not tonight," she murmured, gently apologetic. "Maybe… lead up to that."
"Um, well… you're the tutor, so…" Otis murmured.
"I'm not actually a tutor at the moment…"
"Sorry."
"But I am tutoring… so… I think the first thing to do… repetition encourages learning so… the other night you shared with me an exploration of… your anatomy… so I was thinking…"
"You want to watch me wank again?"
"I think that's the best way to start," Maeve said, biting her lip, her eyes glittering.
"I thought this was to be for my educational benefit not your… prurient interest," Otis smirked.
"If I'm tutoring you for free, I need to get something out of it."
He leaned down, tenderly kissed her. "Okay. Shall I start?"
"In your own time," Maeve murmured.
Maeve watched his face, her peripheral vision letting her see his hand move down and grip himself and slowly stroke.
"Do you need any… encouragement?" Maeve asked.
"I think the encouragement you provided the other night was very… encouraging."
Maeve bit her lip then leaned closer to his ear, murmuring, "Eyes. Ears. Nose."
Maeve glanced down and watched him harden in his hand.
"Mouth," she murmured. "Lips. Tongue."
She noticed that the hand that was on his chest had moved to her own chest and was slowly tracing a path across her skin.
"Neck," she murmured. "Shoulders. Breasts. Nipples."
She slipped one hand across the softness of her pubes and as she noticed his hand beginning to focus on his tip, she gently began to stroke her clit.
"Stomach," she murmured. "Bel-ly but-ton. Pudenda. Vulva."
She listened to his quickening breathing and studied the way he moved his fingers over his tip on the upstroke.
"Clitoris," she murmured. "Labia majora. Labia minora."
She moved her finger gently down, felt the stickiness of her little labs and watched him be lost in his experience.
"Hymen," she murmured after she realised she had fallen silent.
She loved the gentle smile that rose on his lips.
"Vagina. Love canal. Paradise Alley," she murmured. "Jackhammer. Battering ram. Long-pole."
He gave a half-strangled moan.
"Jamming. Ramming. Heckaslamming," she said, biting her lip as she ran her finger around her clit.
She noticed the tempo of his breathing quicken more.
"Are you going to come?" she asked with gentle anticipation.
"Nearly," he gasped.
"Do you want to cum on my squirrels?"
He shook his head, grunted a negative.
Concealing her disappointment, she murmured, "Starburst. Thrillbuster. Dick sneeze."
He grunted and began to release onto his stomach and Maeve watched his face and loved seeing the Cutest Otis he had yet been.
When he finished, he slumped against the pillow, softly panting. Maeve raised herself and tenderly kissed him.
"You look so cute when you cum," she said, smiling gently then she reached behind herself for the wetwipes and held the pack out to him. "You do the thrill. I'll do the spill."
Otis smiled in amusement and took a wetwipe and began tenderly cleaning himself. Maeve took a wetwipe and began cleaning his stomach.
"So I think now you've done a little bit of exploration of yourself," Maeve began, "you could begin an exploration of… me. When you get your breath back."
Maeve lay naked along his bed, Otis naked beside her, one arm around her and his hand gently stroking the side of her breast while his other hand was between her legs, gently stroking her clitoris and little labs.
"So you drop your bra to the floor and I'm looking at you in the mirror," Otis murmured. "And you take my hands and place them on your breasts."
She moaned against his neck.
"And I'm squeezing, gently, and tweaking your nipples between my fingers and you purr, like a kitten. Like a cute little fluffy kitten."
"Purr," Maeve murmured with a smile.
Otis supressed a chuckle and moved his fingers down to gently stroke her entrance.
"And then I slowly move my hands down, running my fingers gently across your skin, down your stomach, and you shudder like you did when I did that tonight and then I'm touching your pants – knickers," he amended. "Then I'm reaching inside the elastic and I'm pushing them down and then they drop to the floor of their own accord and you step out of them and you're standing there, completely naked and… the carpet's matching the drapes."
"I can if you want," Maeve murmured.
"No, it's okay. I want you to look the way you want to look," Otis murmured.
"Did you touch me?" Maeve asked as he moved his fingers back to her clit.
"Uh-huh," he murmured. "I let my hand drop and your pubes were so soft and then I ran a finger gently over your clit and you moaned."
Otis ran his finger gently over her clit and she moaned.
"Then I let my fingers drop down and I'm stroking your little labs and they're feeling so wet. As wet as you're feeling now. And then I'm stroking between them and you're moaning and I'm feeling really hard. So hard. Harder than I've ever felt. And it feels so good, my… cock pressing against you. Skin against skin."
"I thought you still had your clothes on," Maeve murmured, then hissed in pleasure as his fingers moved back to her entrance.
"They'd vanished. It's a dream, remember?" Otis murmured.
"Inside," she murmured.
"That's what you said," he said as he slipped two fingers inside her. "'Inside.' And I slipped my finger inside you and I stroked you. Like this. And you moaned and you pushed back against me. And I came, but I didn't care. And you didn't seem to care. You just asked me to be a bit faster."
Otis began moving his fingers inside her a little faster.
"So I went faster. And I was stroking your girl button," Otis murmured.
Otis began tenderly stroking her girl button and Maeve writhed in pleasure.
"And I went faster."
He moved his fingers faster.
"And faster."
He again increased the speed of his stroking and Maeve moaned.
"And faster. And then you were coming. And I held you as you came. And then we looked at each other in the mirror and… you looked so beautiful. Sorry, if it's objectification, but you did."
He stroked her a little harder.
"You looked so—"
"Otis" escaped from her in a clenched moan as she curled in on herself and against him and he held her trembling body as she was lost in a tidal wave of bliss.
Otis and Maeve lay snuggled beneath the covers, allowing drowsiness to slowly overwhelm them.
"So what were you imagining during your solo exploration?" Maeve asked.
"Us. In the pool. If I didn't freak out."
"Were we going all the way?"
"Uh-huh." Otis murmured.
"We could try. Nobody was around while we were there," Maeve murmured.
"I don't think so," he murmured.
"Okay," she murmured.
"Tell me about the pool," he murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"How you were feeling when you pushed me in the pool."
Maeve was silent for a moment then murmured, "Relaxed. Comfortable. Liking just hanging out with you. I didn't know why you were asking me about… you know, boyfriends, but I liked it. I felt you were interested in me as a… as a friend. And we had been sending the photos. I really liked how we were sending the photos. Like sexting, but not. And I really liked how dorky you looked. I mean, cute dorky. I wanted to touch you. I really think that was when I fell in love with you because I remember feeling that I just wanted to touch you. It's why I pushed you. And that was so good. Just… mucking about. Having fun."
"I loved being in the pool with you," Otis murmured.
"I hadn't felt as… light as that in a long time. And you had to spoil it by trying to get all deep and meaningful," she mock-pouted. "You should have just let us have fun. We could have been wrestling and you could have accidentally touched my boob and you would have been all 'I'm so sorry' and going red and I'd be all 'That's okay, Otis. It felt nice. Do you want to kiss me?' and you'd be 'I'm a virgin' and I'd say 'Do you want to not be a virgin?' and you'd say 'I don't want to be a virgin' and then you'd not be a virgin. Fuck, I sound pathetic."
"You sound cute," Otis murmured.
"I was never cute before you," Maeve murmured.
"Would we keep our clothes on?" he asked.
Author's Notes: I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can.
I'll try to keep anything referencing Season 3 out of this story as long as possible.
