He had given Cory a second chance after their first date and the NSYNC incident, taking Timber and his twin's advice. His new girlfriend's obsession seemed to have died down a bit, or he had gotten used to it, he hadn't yet decided. None of that mattered anymore. He was now getting to know Cory and he intended to enjoy her company and take her for all that she was.

"Welcome to my peace of mind." she announced, opening the door to her rather large bedroom. Clint noticeably abhorred, coming to see that instead of wallpaper, she had opted for pictures of her favorite musical group.

"Wow... it's really... NSYNC-y." he commented dryly.

Cory just grinned, shutting the door behind him and locking it. "Isn't it great?" she asked, sliding her arms around his small waist. She kissed his cheek flirtatiously, and her short hair tickled his neck.

"I guess it is." he shrugged, no longer caring about the walls as he turned to her and accepted her lips on his own.

As they kissed, the odd question of whether or not she was thinking of him or Justin Timberlake floated through his head. He shoved it roughly aside as she shoved him roughly onto the bed. He seized her waist, dragging her down on top of him. All this managed to be done without their lips parting.

Cory squirmed her tongue into his mouth, playfully gyrating it with his. He ran his fingers gently up her back, sighing contentedly. NYSYNC was the furthest thing from his mind...

"You should perm your hair." Cory suddenly mentioned after randomly breaking an incipient make-out session.

"What?" he asked, his breathing having picked up already.

She ran her fingers through his hair. "I mean, you'd look absolutely adorable with a head full of tiny little curls." she commented, squinting her left eye and looking carefully at him, trying to picture it.

Clint propped himself up on her purple comforter using his elbow; she was sitting on him. "Cory... what are you talking about?" he asked, still not receiving enough blood flow to the right head.

"Your hair Clint. You should perm it." she said. "You know... make it curly. It would be so cute. I hear curly hair is in anyway."

Clint raised an eyebrow. Was she for real? Looking just past her head, he caught sight of a poster of Justin Timberlake, winking at him. Sure enough, Justin possessed a head full of unruly curls...

* * *

Kelly stood in the freezing cold of the night, her hair billowing around her head in a hurricane of rich caramel. Yet again, with the fleece clutched tightly in her hands, she attempted what had recently become the undoable. She had rung that bell so many times, but this time it seemed as if the rest of her life was depending on it. Swallowing around the thick lump in her throat, she started up the front walk, making it all the way to the porch without turning back.

Her life had become a shame. She had gone from the typical, all American, family, with the boy and the girl, her parents with good jobs, and the customary golden-retriever, though Denver had passed away years back, to something she couldn't even describe. Now she was a statistic, a victim of unreparated rape. Then the reality that she could possibly be pregnant with a child she would only grow to hate weighed heavy on her shoulders and brought the familiar tears back to her eyes. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She had been standing before the Moffatt's front door for a long time.

"No..." she muttered to herself. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she was just a coward. The latter was closest to the truth.

Kelly backed away from the door, intending to turn and run from the house that brought back so many haunting memories...

"Kelly?" a familiar voice asked.

She whirled around.

"Hey, what's up?" Clint asked from the sidewalk. "It's been a long time Kels."

She bit her lip fiercely, trying to fight the tears that were begging to fall. He was acting as if they were old friends, as if there was never a period where they hated one another. As he approached her, she could only stare.

"You okay?" he asked, now standing right before her on the porch.

She could only manage to shake her head, the tears finally winning her over and starting in a steady stream down her already rosy cheeks.

"Hey..." he said gently, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

She thought of cowering away, as she had done with every other male that tried to touch her, but she realized she wasn't afraid of Clint. His touch didn't make her nervous. His touch comforted her.

"Hey Kels..." he cooed. "What's up? Do you wanna go inside and talk or something?" he asked, his brown eyes so sincere.

"How do you do it?" she finally managed to ask.

Clint was taken aback. He wasn't expecting her to speak so strongly. Not clear on whether her tone was angry or afraid, he waited for her to elaborate.

"Here's your jacket by the way." she muttered, lowering her eyes from his in defeat and slipping back into her meek mien. She swiped a wisp of her blowing hair back from her face.

Clint accepted his fleece from her, still studying her face. He was wondering if his accosting her was really only to find out she still possessed his jacket.

"Kelly," he said, still gentle in his voice. "How do I do what?" he asked, realizing she hadn't ever explained her query.

She shook her head, heading for the steps.

"Kelly, wait." he took her arm.

Kelly yanked back, her hazel eyes shooting to his. The tears came before her mind could even process what had just happened.

"You act like... like we're friends!!!" she shouted at him, angry.

Clint wasn't sure if she was just seeking revenge on the male gender, or if she was actually posing a positive point. Nevertheless, he decided to interpret her affective exclamation as the latter.

"I thought we were friends..." he started to say, obviously confused.

Kelly gripped locks of her hair, screaming in frustration. "You pretend like... like none of that shit between us happened!" she cried, gesturing vehemently. "You act like it was all a joke or something Clint! Why are you being so stoic?!"

"And why are you being so manic!" he yelled back, not thinking before his mouth ejected his words.

"You know what? Fuck you!" she screamed. "I came here to thank you and all you're doing is---"

"Thank me?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Wow, that sure didn't sound like any thank-you I've heard!" He was growing exasperated by the moment as well. He didn't understand why she was acting the way she was.

Kelly turned her back on him, trying to gather her raging feelings. Clint stood patiently, wondering what she was doing. She suddenly spun back to him.

"Clint, did it ever occur to you why I came here the night I got raped?" she demanded candidly.

He was clearly taken by surprise.

"I mean... I could have gone to Jeanine's, after all, she is family, and she lives just three houses down. Or even Angela, who lives on the next street. What about Timber? I mean, she right across the street from here." Kelly gestured strongly, her hazel eyes wide and burning a hole into his. "But I came here, looking for you." she breathed, relaxing. I came to you."

"I---" Clint began.

"I don't know why." Kelly shrugged. "After all the fighting we'd done."

"Kelly... I---"

"Thank you. Thanks for being there and not saying 'I told you so', because you did indeed tell me so." she pointed out.

"Kelly..." Clint started, expecting to be cut off again. When she stood patiently and collected before him, he continued. "I mean... even though we've had our ass load of shit in the past... I still care about you very much. You're a very close friend Kelly, and when something bad happens to you... I... I get angry and I want to protect you. I care. I really do. I care very much. The rest is just... banter."

She closed her eyes, breathing in his words and trying once more not to break into tears. The warmth of his arms around her soothed her racing soul. She was so unguarded, but Clint was there for her. If all her friends were gone, there would always be Clint.

"Hey..." he said softly into her hair. "Do you wanna come inside and watch movies or something?" he asked.

She pulled back, smiling. "Naw, I should get home." she declined. "But... thanks."

"No problem Kelly." Clint nodded.

She initiated the next embrace, feeling oddly filled by it, and kissing his cheek to ventilate some of that contentment. Clint smiled weakly, giving her another slight wave as she headed down the front steps. He felt deep in his heart that his dear friend was on her way to recovery.

* * *

The swell of Alanis Morisette's tangy voice filled the air of Dave's bedroom. He rested back on his bed, eyes closed, and feeling the music. He rarely listened to music lately, but found that it was a surefire release of emotions. He was oddly relaxed at that moment, trying to convince himself that he did the right thing when he sent his love back into the arms of the person he would never be: her rightful mate.

A soft knock on his door stirred him from his meditation and he opened his eyes. Rather than reply to the wordless request to enter, he slid off his full-sized bed and made the short trip to the door, opening it only to see Timber, clad in a pair of baggy, khaki chinos and a black tee.

"Hey." he smiled.

"Bob's still talking to Carmen on the phone." Timber explained. "I thought I heard Alanis playing so I decided to investigate. I love her you know."

"Yeah, me too." he agreed. "Come on in."

She entered, closing the door behind her, as he went back to the bed and lay down.

"So..." she began. Conversation between her and Dave was never dry. They both talked a hell of a lot, always having something interesting to say. Somehow, however, she caught a different mood from him. "What're you thinking?" she asked, settling down on the corner of the bed.

"Nothing." he replied wryly.

"Oh come on Dave." Timber grinned. "You're listening to 'Head over feet' and moping about your bedroom. Unless hermitage is the new fad, you're depressed. What's up? I mean, I'm not trying to be nosy, but if you wanna talk, I'm here."

He shrugged. "I dunno... I'm just... lonely right now." he admitted.

"Post-Angela depression?" she asked cautiously.

"I guess." he replied dismally. "I mean... it's not even that. I'm just so..." he shook his head as if to dismiss his garbled thoughts.

Timber laid down on the bed beside him, sliding up so her head rested on his other pillow. "So what, Dave?" she asked, resting her hands on her stomach.

"So..." he looked up to the ceiling as if the adjective he needed was written on the plain whiteness. It was a while before he spoke again. He turned to her. "You know how great it feels to kiss someone?" he asked.

Timber half shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Well..." Dave continued. "I miss that feeling. I mean... it's been so long. I guess I'm one of those guys who finds the art of kissing to be beautiful. Maybe I just need a girlfriend."

Timber grinned, her gaze directed toward his closed closet door. "Maybe I could help you find one." she suggested.

He looked over at her with a skeptical expression.

"I helped Clint find Cory! I think I'm a good matchmaker." she defended.

"Yeah... I guess, but I mean, I'm leaving in less than two months! What would be the point?" he asked.

"Scott and Angela were only together a month before you guys left to tour. And they made it, minus a few minor issues..."

"Yeah, but look at them." Dave pointed out. "They were in love from the start." Though it pained him to say it, he spoke the unequivocal truth. "And Scott still got on that chick in the blue dress."

"I said minus a few minor issues." Timber reminded him.

Dave breathed a slight laugh. "I guess you're right."

"And what about Jeanine?" Timber eased into the conversation.

"What about Jeanine?" Dave asked, completely clueless.

"Well..." Timber gestured slowly. "Have you ever thought about maybe... hooking up with her?" she asked.

"With Jeanine?" Dave asked. "I have hooked up with her like, twice."

"No!" Timber exclaimed, frustrated by his stupidity. "I mean going out with her." she said.

"With Jeanine?" Dave asked.

"No, with a flock of sheep. The more the merrier. Yes I mean with Jeanine!" Timber exclaimed, impatiently.

"Oh." Dave said.

"Oh?" Timber asked, growing curious for a reply.

"Well... what?!" Dave demanded, blushing.

Timber sighed. "Dave. You're ignorance is dazzling."

"Sorry! What do you want me to say?"

"What would you think about that? Jeanine I mean." Timber said clearly.

"I mean... I dunno. I never really thought of her like that." Dave shrugged. "I don't think she likes me like that anyway so..."

Timber rolled her eyes. She'd have to give Dave's brain a rest for the duration of the evening. He’d obviously met his quota for daily intelligence.

"You've kissed alotta guys, haven't you?" Dave asked, changing the subject.

"Not a lot. Try, like, one guy that wasn’t a Moffatt." Timber replied, rolling onto her side so she could face him. He was sprawled on his back.

"Well, I mean, some."

"Yeah. Very few." she clarified.

"Tell me about that."

"Why?" she asked.

"Just because." Dave shrugged. "I dunno. I just want to know."

"Okay..."

He paused a moment, then looked at her when she didn't respond. "Who was your first kiss?"

"Bob." she replied without thinking.

"You kissed Bob?!?!" Dave demanded in disbelief.

"Well yeah, I mean... it was a practice kind of thing! I mean, this total wanker Dan wanted to go in the make-out room... I had to learn somewhere! I was totally unprepared!!! So Bob helped me out... it meant nothing if that's what you're insinuating." she rattled off, trying to clear her name.

"Hey! I didn't say anything." Dave said innocently.

"I know you're thinking it." Timber smirked.

"Who else have you kissed beside Bob and that Dan guy?" he asked.

"Well... the time we were playing tag." she continued. "I kissed Scott, but that was a peck. And I also got rape-kissed by your brother."

"Clint?" Dave asked. "Oh yeah, I remember that." he snickered.

"And then there's Carmen, but that doesn't count." she added.

"Do you like kissing girls?" Dave asked.

Timber rolled her eyes. Typical male. "It's no different than kissing a guy!" she pointed out. "Just... gentler... and... I dunno. It's basically the same."

"You liked it, didn't you." he grinned.

She rolled her eyes once more. "Let's just put it this way. I prefer kissing guys, but girls aren't that bad. It didn't... gross me out or anything. But at the same time it didn't really turn me on. I'm very open minded. I mean, would you ever kiss a guy?" she asked.

"No." Dave said flat out. "But I like to kiss girls. I loooove kissing." he added.

"Do you really?" she asked lightly.

"Who doesn't?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I guess everybody does."

There was another hiatus in conversation as the music provided soundtrack for the two pensive teens. Dave was first to break the silence with a statement about being in withdrawal from the lips of another. Timber merely grinned at the comment, still in one of her signature dazes.

"Hey Tim," Dave spoke again.

"Hmmm?" she asked.

"Can I make a proposition?" he asked.

"Knock yourself out."

"Okay, my proposition is that we do it." he stated.

"Sorry, I'm waiting until marriage." she responded without skipping a beat.

"I don't mean that!" Dave laughed nervously. "I mean, just as friends we... you know..."

She turned to him. "No, I don't know." she contradicted.

"Okay, lemme rephrase this." Dave said. "If I kiss you... do you promise not to hit me?" he asked, his sweet brown eyes gazing into hers. "I mean, just as buddies.. quell a certain yearning..."

"Deal." she said, grinning.

He smiled. "Okay." he said slowly, pausing before he advanced.

His full lips met with hers, gently and tenderly. He parted them slightly, tasting her strawberry lips gloss on his tongue. Her arms draped over his waist in the awkward position they lay in on the bed. As their tongues emerged to mingle, his hand went to her chin, running back through her hair she had managed to get into a half ponytail. They wisps of her hair on the back of her neck were so soft and feathery in his fingers’ grasp.

Timber's eyes soon fluttered open to see that his were gently closed, his dark eyelashes laying evenly on his smooth skin. The sight of such peacefulness almost made her smile against his mouth as they French kissed in the dim light of his bedroom.

There were two sharp knocks at the door before it opened, only allowing the two kissing friends seconds to get to opposite sides of the bed.

"What were you guys doing?" Bob asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your mom." Timber quickly supplied, licking her lips.

Bob just grinned. "I won't even ask." he shook his head, sauntering into the room and flopping on the bed.

"Finally finish talking to your moon-goddess Bob?" Dave asked, sitting up on his bed and fiddling with the compact disc case.

"Yeah." Bob wrinkled his nose. "She's still sick as anything."

"Well influenza sucks alotta ass don't it." Timber muttered, laying down again in her previous position.

Bob wasted no time scooting up so he could rest his head on her chest. She shifted momentarily, trying to get in a comfortable place.

"Your hair smells good." She commented.

"I hope so." Bob smirked. "It's your shampoo." he grinned.

She sniffed his hair. "The peach one? No wonder I couldn't find it! You little puke, I knew I didn't use the whole bottle. I had to go out and buy another one!" she gave his chocolate locks a disciplinary yank.

"Ow!" Bob howled, rubbing his head.

"Damn right ow, and there's more where that came from!" she warned, pulling his hair again.

Dave snickered. "You guys are too much."

"We're like those groups of friends on a TV show." Bob commented, moving his head away from his ruthless best friend. "You know, like Saved by the Bell or something."

"A clique." Dave supplied.

"No, no, no." Timber shot down. "We're not like Saved by the Bell... we're more like... Dawson's Creek." she said, after much thought on the topic. "Definitely Dawson's Creek."

"How so?" Bob asked, turning his head so he could look up into her eyes.

"Well I mean... you have to look at it from my perspective." she elaborated. "Like... I'd be Joey of course." she stated. "And you'd have to be her best friend Dawson. And Clint, Scott, and Dave would take turns being Pacey, Dawson's other best friend and Joey's friend too. And then Carmen would be Jen of course."

"Wait, wait, whoa." Bob stopped her. "Are you talking about first season Dawson's Creek, or second?" he asked.

"Well, first, before Andy and Jack." Timber said. "But Ben would be Jack… no, Clint maybe, and maybe Kelly would be Andy. No... Andy too much of a meticulous perfectionist. That would be Clint..." she rambled on.

"No, wait." Bob stopped her. "How could it be first season?" he asked.

Dave rolled his eyes. He didn't watch Dawson's Creek and found the conversation rather boring.

"I mean... Joey hated Jen." Bob continued. "Jen moved to Capeside from New York and stole Dawson's heart, and Joey was so in love with Dawson but never had the guts to tell him. She hated Jen with a passion because not only did Jen get Dawson, but she stole Joey's best friend from her because Dawson then spent a ton of his time with his girlfriend!"

"Now it's getting interesting." Dave piped in. "What time does it show?" he asked.

Timber froze. "Well..." she said slowly. "With all that dissection..."

"I wish I had caught the first season, it sounds like it was good." Dave continued.

Bob just stared at Timber. Her mind raced. Did he know? She promptly dismissed the thought. Bob caught on to things with the speed of a Special-Olympic hurdler. He most certainly did not know. She barely knew anymore...

"Maybe we should pick a different show." she finally mustered up the courage to say, sitting up on the bed. She turned back to see Bob's dark eyes still gazing into her. "Friends perhaps... that's a good show..." she continued weakly. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded.

Bob looked away. "I think I just heard Clint come home. Let's go find out how his date went."

* * *

The whirring of the ringing telephone droned in Scott's ears as he held the receiver to his head. There was a click. The connection had been made.

"Hello?"

"Hey." he said, smiling just at the sound of her voice.

"Hi Scott." Angela responded. He could automatically tell she was smiling too.

"Whatcha up to?" Scott asked, beginning to pace his room with the cordless. He ran his fingers over the finished wood of his dresser.

"Just getting ready for bed..." she trailed off, yawning quietly.

"It's only ten." he reminded his girlfriend, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Why are you going to bed so early?"

Angela laughed. "I'm tired." she replied.

"You can't be tired." he whined.

"Oh, but I am."

"Angela..." he began, still dragging his index finger over the surface of his dresser again.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"I need to see you right now."

"Scott..." she trailed off.

"I'm coming over. Look out for me." he said, then hung up.

* * *

Timber twirled around in Clint's swivel chair, listening to him lament about his botched date. He had stomped into the house and straight up to his bedroom, followed by the others. Upon entering and being asked how his date went by his youngest womb-mate, he launched into a play-by-play recount of the entire fiasco, pacing wildly across his bedroom floor and gesticulating wildly and effectively with his hands.

"... and she continued to go on and on about how cute Justin is and how macho he is and how good he can sing! I swear!!!" Clint exclaimed.

"I thought you said she was past the whole NSYNC thing..." Timber stated, tucking her legs up Indian Style in the chair and continuing to spin in a circle.

"I thought she was too!! You should see her frickin' room! It's like some frickin' NSYNC shrine! I swear to the frickin' Lord on high that girl is obsessed! I mean, she cooled down for a while, but I'm beginning to notice more and more that she's trying to turn me into Justin Timberlake!!!" he shouted.

"No need to shout Clint." Dave informed him. "Christ, you're going to wake the dead!"

"I'll shout as loud as I frickin' want to!" Clint yelled, halting in his walking to utter these few words.

"Justin Timberlake." Bob said, then snickered. "Timberlake. Timberlake... Timber, Lake. Heh heh. Timber!" he guffawed, falling back on the bed and pointing in the general direction of his best friend.

The other three shared a confused look.

"Wow." Timber stated in monotone. "That was random."

"ANYWAYS." Clint transitioned. "The other day she was trying to get me to wear baby-blue! I don't wear baby-blue!!! Today I find out that that's Justin's favorite color! And do you know what she said to me?" he asked.

"Is that rhetorical?" Dave asked.

"She said I should perm my hair! PERM my hair!!! I happen to like my hair straight thankyouverymuch! I don't want to have some frickin' afro just because Justin Tim--- Justin from NSYNC does!" Clint continued. "And she wanted me to dance, and she said 'if only your eyes were blue...'" he said, mocking a high-pitched woman's voice.

"She doesn't sound like that." Timber clarified, offended on behalf of her gender.

"DAMNIT!!!" Clint shrieked. "It's all about Justin!!! She likes my highlights because Justin has them! She's always talking about how cute he is, what a great dancer he is, how good he sings, how ghetto he is... I'm a good dancer! I'm a good singer! I'm cute..."

"In a conventional kind of way..." Timber said.

"And I can certainly be as ghetto as Justin!!!" the eldest triplet exclaimed.

"No you couldn't." Dave clarified. "Nooooooo way in hell."

"This is bullshit!" Clint moaned. "I'm sick of my mind being clouded with inane NYSYNC facts! I don't care how the name of their band came to be! I don't frickin' care where they all met and how they became a band! I couldn't give two shits when their bithdays are! And I sure as hell don't fucking care about their change in management! I mean, who really does?!?!?!"

"Is that rhetorical?" Dave asked again.

"YES!!!" Clint shouted. "ARGHHH!!! What should I do?" he whimpered.

After only silence ensued, he looked up from where he had fallen back on his bed. "That was an actual question!!!" he exclaimed.

"Oh. Okay." Dave said.

Silence.

"Anyone have a frickin' answer?" Clint demanded.

"No." Dave replied. "But I suppose that's an answer all in itself huh? At least to the second question..."

"I don't have any reply whatsoever." Bob shrugged. "I mean, why should I care? I have a normal girlfriend, not some stalker bitch who needs to get a fucking life."

"Gee..." Clint responded dryly. "Thank you so much Bob. Nice system of support you're giving me." he said sarcastically.

"I have one." Timber said. "I have what'll solve all your problems."

"And what's that?" Clint asked.

"Well tonight, we have a big sleep over!" she exclaimed, still spinning. "And then you can dump her crazy ass tomorrow."

"Dump her?" Clint asked.

"Dump her." Dave and Bob nodded.

"Sustained!" Timber rhapsodized.

Clint scrunched his face up distastefully. He knew he couldn't go on living with someone who was always trying to turn him into something he was not, but at the same time, he liked the idea of having a girlfriend. The thought of dumping her had never crossed his mind. He was sick and tired of taking her crap. He knew his brothers and friend were right. He had to get rid of her or he would end up caught in an empty, meaningless relationship that was so typical of guys his age. But there was a part of him that still didn't want to let go...

* * *

Angela curled up under her sheets, closing her eyes listlessly. She no longer could wait up for Scott, she was far too tired. She drifted off for a few moments before she heard a rapping at her window. Thinking to ignore it, she continued to sleep until the rapping became a knocking.

"Mfrrrrmmm... who is it?" she asked, rolling onto her back and stretching. Her thin nightgown rode up on her thighs.

"Guess." Scott said from outside. "I'm hanging on to the ledge out here Angie... could you hurry up a bit?" he asked.

She moaned once more, throwing the white, embroidered duvet off her legs and touching her feet down on the carpet. Taking her sweet time to get to the window, she threw apart the curtains, smiling warming at a completely freezing Scott who was holding on outside. Angela slid the window open with a pleasant countenance.

"You know, I should just push you off." she smiled. "It's would be a painful death."

Scott lowered his eyes, knowing full and well why she was saying such a horrid thing. "I deserved that." he admitted quietly.

"Yes you did." she nodded, shivering slightly in the cold of the outside.

She grabbed onto his hands and assisted him in climbing into her window, not an easy task. The two ended up tumbling onto the carpet, Scott landing on top. She pushed him off of her, climbing to her feet.

"You could have used the door." she informed him with a nonchalant mien.

The hem of her white nightshirt fluttered as she headed back to her bed.

"I wasn't sure if your parents would be home." Scott admitted, also getting to his feet.

Angela snuggled beneath the sheets, then looked up at him. His grey eyes gazed at her with a slightly homesick expression in them. She instantly felt bad for being mean to him. Grinning, she pulled back the sheets for him to enter. Scott instantly smiled, yanking off his jacket.

"Wait, my pants are wet." he said.

"Why?" Angela grinned.

"Because... let's just say that climbing gingham isn't as easy as one would think... it took a few tries." he admitted.

"Like I said, you could have used the door." she smiled, crawling over on the bed.

She gripped his waistband and tugged, undoing all five of the buttons on his fly and tugging his pants down.

"Or we could do that." Scott grinned, enjoying her forceful side.

Angela smirked just as slyly as he had just done and yanked him down on the bed, maneuvering him so she was on top. He stared up at her in blatant shock. She crushed her lips into his, parting them immediately and enthralling him with a sultry French kiss. Scott grazed his hands down her bare thighs as she lay on top of him.

"Mmmm..." he moaned, grinning evenly on her kiss. "Aquafresh?"

"Crest." she corrected with a giggle, pinching his waist.

"Ow!" Scott wailed, pouting. She had been hurting him a lot lately.

"Oh you big baby." she taunted, pinching him again.

"Owy!" he whined. "Why are you always pinching me?!"

"Because I feel like it." she simpered before pulling up his shirt.

"Look at what you do!" he exclaimed, referring to the red marks that sparsely decorated his smooth chest.

She grinned up at him, pinching his nipple and causing him to cry out once more.

"Stop!" Scott pleaded, rubbing his sore breast.

Angela giggled, reminding him of Patti. She quickly redeemed herself by kissing him fervently, wasting no time wriggling her tongue back into him warm mouth. His eyebrows raised as his eyes slid closed, snaking his arms around her waist. She immediately pulled away, ravenously moving her kisses down his abdomen.

"Mmmm..." he moaned as her hand shot to where he needed it most at such a hot-blooded time.

Angela glanced up at him as her lips hopped down the trail of pubic hair just below his navel. She nipped slightly at the waistband to his boxer shorts, dragging them down a bit with her teeth. Scott watched his angel become an imp right before his eyes. Her hands finished the job of tugging his underwear down his thighs.

"Teach me Scott." she requested, running her fingers over his already stiffening cock.

"T--- teach you?" he strained.

Angela settled down on him so she was sitting on his thighs. She took him in her fist. "Tell me what you like." she requested, giving him the most erotic look he had ever laid eyes upon.

Scott was taken aback by this new side he was seeing of his girlfriend. He gazed up at her, shy, as if it were the first time. As she began to gently stroke him, his lips parted and he jetted his tongue out slightly to wet them.

"That's--- that's perfect..." he breathed, closing his eyes and resting his head back into her pillows.

He savored the moment, using his now acute sense of touch to perceive her hands on his raging erection. She seemed to jerk him better than he jerked himself, or perhaps it was just the fact that it was her. At that moment, his knowledge of loving her so deeply was the only thing hanging in his thoughts.

Angela bit her lip, watching his reaction to her touch. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows were contorted as if he were in some sort of pain. She smirked, feeling empowered by the way she could make him feel. As she continued to whack him off, his breathing picked up and she took that as a sign to go faster. She grazed her thumb over his pulsating head in rhythm with each stroke, making his body shudder in raw ecstasy.

"Angela..." he moaned, arching his back and parting his lips in a way that expressed his rapture. "I'm gonna..."

There was no need for him to elaborate on his statement. She immediately lowered her mouth to his penis, ready to catch his seed. Feeling the new sensation and pressure, Scott wasted no time cumming, thoroughly emptying the contents of his aroused manhood onto her tongue.

"Oh God..." he moaned, finally opening his eyes.

Knowing she had the permission to, she kissed him, allowing him to share the taste of himself. Scott kissed her just as passionately, swirling his tongue with hers. She pulled away eventually, laying back beside him. He took that as an opportunity to get re-situated in his underwear.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, breaking a sheet of silence that had engulfed the moment.

Angela just smiled at him. Instead of replying, she met him with her lips once more, commencing another one of their grand make-out sessions.

As they kissed, Scott felt he wanted more. He wanted to touch her the way she had touched him. That feeling had always existed, but it was suddenly as if it was stronger at that moment. He snaked his arm around her slender waist, feeling the thin fabric glide against his fingers. Taking a gamble, he slid his hand down to her upper thigh, where the fabric ended and the length of her legs was the only thing left against his skin. His hand moved a bit under the fabric.

"Angela," he pulled only a few inches away from her face. "Is this... okay?" he asked.

"Mmhhmm." she mumbled, moving her mouth back to his.

Scott sighed warmly, guiding his hand a bit higher until he was above the band of her underwear. He maneuvered his body so she laid on her back and he loomed slightly over her, allowing him better access to roam his fingers on her stomach. He pulled back again.

"Is this okay?" he asked, wanting her full permission in whatever he was going to do.

She smiled and nodded, pulling his head back to hers.

Scott, again, was relieved, kissing her contentedly for a moment while his fingers just stroked against the flawlessness of her stomach. It wasn't long before he gradually moved them higher on her abdomen, until he felt the contours of her ribs. He broke their kiss once more.

"Is--- is this okay?" he asked.

Angela placed her hand over his and drove it farther under her nightshirt until it was settled over the mound of her left breast. Scott's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected her to be wearing a bra. The feeling of her warm and smooth skin on his palm was completely new to him. He looked back at her. She was gazing directly at him with a completely calm and neutral expression on her face.

"You have soft skin." he commented, immediately blushing at the fact that he was so antsy about something he had done many times before.

But in those many times, there wasn't such innocence, such tenderness. It seemed, nowadays, that everything he did with her felt like the first time. Maybe it was because he was trying to become a new man. Or maybe because he had never loved anyone as much as he loved his angel. He was betting on the latter.

* * *

In the darkness of his bedroom, the only light from the moon outside, Bob ran his index finger down the bridge of Timber's nose. He repeated this action several times before whispering in the dark: "Are you awake?"

"You get three guesses, use them wisely." she replied without opening her eyes.

Bob chuckled. "You dumb ass."

She giggled, rolling onto her back before yawning with a hand over her mouth. "I can't sleep." she said. "I think it's Dave's snoring."

Dave was at the opposite end of the bed as Bob. Timber and Clint were squished in the middle. The group had all decided to squeeze into Bob's bed after watching two movies in the living room.

"... or maybe it's the fact that Clint elbows me every other second." she added.

"Welcome to my world." Bob snickered, throwing the sheets off his legs. "Let's go."

"Go where?" she asked, stretching her long arms above her head. The oversized sleeves of one of Bob's hockey jerseys sagged down to her shoulders as she did so.

"I dunno. Maybe the kitchen." he suggested with a shrug, already heading for the closet to get a pair of sweatpants to go over his boxers.

Timber sighed lazily. "Okay." she said, detaching Clint's arm from her waist and climbing out of bed.

The two padded into the hallway, making their way to the kitchen as quietly as possible as not to wake any of the other occupants of the house.

"It's so cold in here!" Timber commented, settling into a seat at the kitchen table and tucking her legs up under the enormous shirt.

"I know!" Bob agreed, standing in front of the open refrigerator. "Want some ice cream?" he asked.

"Hate the stuff." she reminded him.

"Oh yeah..." he trailed off. "Freak." he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that... Stupid."

"What about some Doritos?" Bob asked. "Cookies?"

"I'm not really hungry." Timber cut in.

"How can you not be hungry?" Bob asked, already scooping a bowl of chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream. “You didn’t eat any dinner either. Or anything for lunch for that matter.”

"It's possible." she reminded him.

Bob just shrugged, dipping a Dorito in the bowl and tasting it.

"Sick!" Timber exclaimed, covering her face with her hands so she did not have to witness such a horrific event.

"Mmmm." Bob grinned. "It's good."

Timber shook her head. "I just lost my appetite."

"You never had one." he reminded her.

"I meant my appetite for life."

He snickered sitting down at the table. "So what's up?" he asked.

"Your cholesterol if you keep eating like that." Timber quipped, beginning to rock back and forth in the chair to conserve heat.

"I couldn't give a rats ass." Bob said defiantly.

"I'm sure you couldn't." Timber countered, yawning again.

"And don't be jealous because I eat!!!" he shot back, intending his comment to be a pure jest at her physique.

"Shut up! I eat all the time." she snapped back, seeming to take his repartee to heart more than usual.

"Whoa... chill out there." Bob said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was kidding."

"I know." she quickly said. "Anyway... how's Carmen?"

Bob shrugged, swallowing the ice cream in his mouth before speaking. "She's good. Still barfing everywhere, but other than that..." he grinned.

"Yummy." Timber said dryly.

"I just hope she gets better so we can at least spend some time together before we leave." he added.

"Oh don't even mention that!" Timber wailed, covering her face with her hands again. "I don't even want to think about you guys leaving!!!"

Bob's mood instantly shifted as he realized that he and his family were indeed going to be gone a great deal of time. His appetite suddenly disappeared, so he set his bowl down on the table top.

"Three whole months without you guys..." she moaned, trying to act as is it were just an act but completely serious.

"Well..." Bob searched for means of down-playing this event. "We were gone before, remember?" he asked.

"But that was two months, and we weren't as close as we are now." Timber pointed out, dropping her hands to her knees. "And I mean, come on. That was hell on earth too."

Bob shrugged. "Well this time you guys will have school and stuff." he pointed out.

"True, but still Bob." Timber didn't relent. "It's going to suck a lot."

He gave up trying to argue because he knew she spoke the truth.

"Three months is a hell of a long time without you." she said quietly. "And you're going to miss my birthday and I'll miss yours." she added. Her birthday was merely a few days before his."

Bob thought about her words for a moment. "You're right." he agreed. "This really does suck."

"I know."

He directed his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, trying to think up a remedy to this imbroglio. Timber too took on a pensive state as a wave of sadness swept over her.

"I think I'm going to cry." she stated flatly.

"Me too." Bob added.

Neither one of them shed any tears. The cold air in the kitchen suddenly became the main focus of both.

Bob suddenly looked up. "Hey!" he exclaimed, a bit too loudly at such a late hour. "I have an idea!"

"Oh brother..." Timber muttered, knowing where Bob's ideas always got them.

"We could have a big party before we leave! Like, a birthday party. For you, me, Clint, Dave, and Scott... since we're all in March, you know. That would be awesome!" he exclaimed.

Timber forced a smile, liking his idea and knowing he meant well. However, this little plan he possessed only put a flimsy band-aid over the actual gash of her best friend being away from her so long. She couldn't help but feel the pain deep in her heart, knowing he wouldn't always be by her side. The truth was that she was going to miss him like no other, not only because she needed him as a friend, but because she loved him now more than ever. Gazing at him in the light of the kitchen, she realized that she couldn't survive without him in her life, and that she wouldn't be the person she was at that very moment if she didn't have Bob Moffatt; the boy across the street.

* * *

return***forty