Just Maybe... Ch. 02

I want to thank everyone who voted, especially those who took the extra time to write me feedback. I've tried to answer you all as best as I can, if I haven't answered you I will, I promise! I love every email and they make me very happy to know people enjoy my work. This story is going to be loooong, and thats all I'll say, besides giving a few teasers, like one of Makkail's old clients shows up dead from mysterious circumstances... coincidence?And what will happen when Roger finds out about Makkail? You don't know who Roger is? Then keep reading! And don't forget to vote and send feedback! Thanks again everyone, you're all the greatest.

She had seen him. Seen him and accepted him. That in itself was remarkable, amazing, and every other adjective he could think of. He'd stayed until the morning suns began spreading their warm, golden fingers across the city, then he'd flown off, staying to the remaining shadows and the corners, managing to make it back to the small corner under the air-conditioner on the rooftop he called his home during the day. He hadn't been able to sleep for quite a few hours, and had almost contemplated trying to sneak back and watch her more. His good sense had taken over, he knew he'd be spotted during the day. But he still wanted too. His good sense hadn't said a peep about him wanting too so badly.

When he did finally sleep, he dreamed about her. It wasn't so much as love at first sight, but more the fact that she was the first person in years to actually accept him, and even more unbelievable, she'd wanted to see him again. His dreams were filled with her, her soft looking hair, the faded highlights that he found so adorable, her sea colored eyes, as turbulent as the fore-mentioned ocean. The colors in her eyes were the most remarkable, such different colors, and yet, so similar. And changing... always changing. One moment they were as blue as the sea, and the next... a brilliant green. Almost ethereal.

His eyes grew dreamy as he thought of her, then widened slightly as a frightening thought occurred to him. What if she just wanted him to come back so she could have the law and god knows what else waiting for him? What if she really didn't want to see him? These thoughts swirled through his head for hours. As he contemplated all the horrible things that could happen, all the worst scenarios, he finally fell into a restless sleep... in which he tossed and turned, scraping his bare shoulders on the hard pavement of the rooftop.

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It had to have been a dream. I'd never had one this vivid, of course, but it had to be one. HAD to be. These things didn't really happen. In story books, yes, and novels and such, but not in real life. Still... it had been one of the best dreams of my life. And I could imagine it hadn't been. I mean, demons visited people every day, right?

I slid the covers down and sat up against the headboard, looking out the window and squinting against the bright sun that filled my room from the blinds I hadn't closed last night. I yawned and swung my legs over the side of the bed. As my feet hit the blissfully soft shag carpet, I was, for the thousandth time, glad I'd forced my father to buy the slightly more expensive shag instead of the regular. It felt so good on my feet every morning. I crossed to the open window, and looked out for a moment before standing on tiptoe and reaching for the blind closer.

I had forgotten my lack of attire, and as I reached up, I heard a few faint whistles from below me, and I looked down to see my friend Roger standing in the street, grinning like an idiot and giving me a thumbs up. I struck a pose and stuck my tongue out at him, then held my hand up in a 'wait there' gesture. I closed the blinds, ignoring the muted protestations rising to my ears from the street and a disappointed Roger. I threw on a pair of my usual jeans and a black shirt with the words Angel written on it in rhinestones and jumped down the stairs. "I'm going out with Julia mom!" I yelled, then scooted out the door. Roger knew the drill, and had hidden behind the bushes.

Being newly turned 18, my parents still didn't let me date or go out with boys, even friends or ones they'd met. The plan was, I'd say I was going out with my friend Julia, one of the few friends my parents actually let me go out with, though surprisingly, she was the worst influence possible. I'd meet Roger behind the bushes, and we'd go do all the heinous things we could think of... namely go for coffee and probably hit the mall for a bit. I'd met Roger while at a club with the afore mentioned bad influence, Julia. We had a strategy of saying we'd stay at each others houses so we could stay out the whole night, and our parents never checked with the others. It worked like a charm, and Julia got all the pot, booze and sex she wanted, while I got to dress up in cool clothes and look cute.

Guys would usually enter, see my chest, head for me, and as soon as I made it utterly clear I wasn't interested, they'd switch to Julia, who welcomed each and every one of them with open arms. Occasionally one of the guys would get just a bit too pushy, and I or the small but terribly fierce Julia would have to take them down a peg or two. Only once did I have to slap a guy, and he got the hint and left. On the particular occasion, though, the guy hadn't wanted to stop. I had been all set to use my martial arts for the first time, and quite excited about it too, when a hand lifted the guy up and to the side quite easily. "I think the lady wants to be left alone."

Standing in the newly vacated space was quite a large man. I'd seen him sitting in the corner earlier and pointed him out to Julia, since we always guy scouted, but she rolled her eyes at his long brown ponytail, moody expression, brown trench coat, and black combat boots, then went back to making out with the complete stranger whose lap she was occupying. Now that I saw him standing, he was even cuter. He was at least 6'4", and the slight stubble on his chin was appealing. I never really thought men were cute as potential boyfriends, but I appreciated men, good looking ones, and I was always interested in making new friends. The offensive guy left, and I smiled at the tall young man. He smiled back, and a few moments later he was sitting next to me and we were arguing over whether Taoism or Buddhism was more influential on the perception of religion.

Halfway through the night, a very drunk Julia with her pretty brown eyes and long, sleek brown hair turned to talk to me and saw the hulk sitting next to me. She immediately began the usual routine that had any man melting in her hands, the cute little giggles and the little ditsy head tips. I was all fired up to be furious, but Roger ignored every bit of it. When her small hand crept into his lap and started heading for something, without even looking at her, he calmly picked it up and placed it back on hers. I'd made a fast friend that night, and since then Roger and I had been hanging out at least once a week. We'd have coffee and talk for hours about nothing in particular, and I considered him my best friend. I never liked roger as anything more than a friend, though I suspected once in awhile that he did.

As I ran down the stairs and out to the bushes, I made a quick decision not to tell him about Makkail. Though I usually told my dear friend about my dreams, much to his amusement, this just didn't seem right somehow. As we walked to the mall, he noticed my conspicuous lack of prattle, and reached over, lifting my chin.

"Whats bothering you Angel?" He said, referring to my shirt. I smiled and shrugged.

"I'm alright, just didn't get much sleep last night. The coffee'll wake me up." He gave me a raised eyebrow for a moment, but nodded and kept walking. We were both silent on the way over to the coffee shop. Once we sat, as I'd predicted, the coffee and the familiar surroundings both woke me up and loosened my tongue, and Roger and I began one of our usual lengthy discussions.

He walked me home afterwards, and left me at the front door with his usual goodbye... a kiss on my hand. He'd done it once as a joke, and I'd complained the next time he didn't do it, so it had become a tradition of sorts. He'd bow, kiss my hand, and say "Goodnight, my lady." I'd always laugh and wave a goodbye as I ran inside. Tonight was no different, and I quickly ran up to my room, letting out my usual yell to let my mother know I was home. My huge dog lifted his head from the sofa, greeting me with a huge yawn, showing his large teeth. I'd picked up the huge wolf hybrid at the pound and never had another dog since. He didn't listen to anyone but me, and that only when he wanted too, but he was fiercely loyal and the most protective dog you'd ever know.

I ran up to my room and shut the door behind me, and jumped on my bed, grabbing my remote. I turned on the small TV my parents had permitted me for my room, and flipped it to the sci fi channel to watch one of my favorite forensic shows. By the time I finished that and my usual 5 or so chapters in one of my books, it was time for dinner. After that I plopped down in front of my computer and spent the night playing computer games and talking to my on-line friends. Roger instant messaged me at one point.

TheDarkestKnight: Hey, are you sure you're ok peanut?

DarkBirdofHeaven: Totally. Just tired, like I said. Don't tell me you didn't notice my blabbing mouth at the coffee shop.

TheDarkestKnight: Haha. I did. Guess I'm just paranoid.

DarkBirdofHeaven: Don't be. I'm fine. Listen, I gotta go, I'm about to pass out here.

TheDarkestKnight: Catch ya tomorrow.

With that I signed off, and turned off my computer. Looking at my bedside clock from my computer chair, I realized it was 1:45. I remembered my 'dream'. The encouragement of the night around me and my imagination made me wonder... had it been a dream? I got up and headed over to the window, and stared out for a while, then slowly reached up and undid the latch. I turned my back with a shake of my head at my silliness, and started pulling off my clothes.

"If I'd known there'd be a show, I would have come sooner." A amused voice sounded from behind me. I squeaked and jumped, pulling my shirt back down and turning.

"You scared the hell out of me you.... you? You are real." I said wondrously. Makkail was perched on the windowsill, he'd opened the windows so quietly she hadn't even heard him.

"Of course I'm real." I gave him a faint smile.

"I thought I might have dreamed you." His smile darkened slightly.

"Do you wish you had?" He said softly.

"Heavens no, I silently wished I hadn't all day." I offered him an encouraging smile and sat down on the edge of my bed. I was still slightly shaken about the fact that he wasn't a figment of my imagination, but I knew I couldn't show that, he seemed quite skittish about offending me. He leaped down off the windowsill, landing as gently as a cat. His grace was surprisingly, a turn on, and I blinked slightly to clear the little hearts exploding around my eyes. I patted the bed next to me, and he looked slightly taken aback. He slowly crossed the room, and sat down on the bed as far away from me as he could get. I laughed slightly.

"I don't bite you know." I said teasingly. He grinned at me, some of the fear disappearing from his eyes.

"I don't know that." He teased back. I smirked and leaned over, opening my mouth slightly and aiming for his arm. I wasn't actually going to bite him, of course, but I never even got the chance. His arm caught mine and another slipped around my waist and the next thing I knew I was laying on my back across his lap. I blinked several times and then giggled. He had a smug look on his face as he looked down at me.

"Bite me, will you?" I tilted my head to one side.

"How did you do that?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I just flipped you over and onto my lap. Not that hard."

"Not that hard? Most athletes would give their left leg to have that kind of strength and coordination... well maybe their left leg, then they wouldn't be athletes." I blushed slightly as I realized I'd been babbling again. He just smiled and for a moment looked lost. I wondered what he was thinking about.

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He didn't know where he'd gotten the courage to go back to her house. He wasn't really scared of being caught, he almost welcomed it, maybe they could find a way to kill him. He was afraid of her not wanting to see him again, that it had all been a facade, or she'd been... drunk.. or something. His mind came up with everything. But somehow. Somehow, he got the courage to go back. He'd been flying to her house, sticking to the shadows of the rooftops, thinking about going back... and he'd seen her unlatch the window. That had done it, and he landed on the windowsill and opened the window.

She'd been in the process of taking her shirt off, and he enjoyed a few moments of staring at her creamy white back, and the beginnings of a black bra strap, then he'd announced his presence with what he thought was a witty comment. She let out an adorable squeak and jumped, then pulled her shirt down, much to his disappointment. She'd gotten a little mad at him, but quickly lost it. When she wanted him to sit next to her his breath stopped in his chest and he couldn't move for a second. When he did, he slowly crossed the room, and sank down on the soft bed.

All he could think about was her, his senses were consumed by her. Even without his slightly enhanced senses, he could smell the remainder of the perfume she'd applied earlier in the day. It smelled like red... and fruit...and everything good thrown together, with her own scent beneath it. A delightful mix. What was going on? Oh yes, she'd teased him that she didn't bite. He smiled and shot back that how was he supposed to know that? When she leaned over to bite him, or pretend to, he reacted without thinking, his arms shot out and the next thing he knew she was face up on his lap. He was every bit as stunned as her. When she inquired as to where he learned to do that, he'd tried to play cool and pretend it wasn't anything. She seemed to have bought it. He smiled down at her. She babbled about something or other for a few moments, then looked sheepish and blushed. He hadn't heard most of it, he'd been lost in her hair and lips, but the blush caught his attention. The pink spreading across her face didn't exactly mix entirely well with her freckles, but she was still cute.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Are you ticklish?" He inquired innocently. She nodded.

"Very, especially around my stomach area, it sucks cause I teach preschool Sunday school and... why did you want to know?" She gave him a suspicious eye. He smirked slightly.

"No reason." He said mischievously. She gave him a mock scared look.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh wouldn't I?" He reached down and began tickling her gently. She exploded into squeals and convulsions, her hands desperately trying to find his to pull them away from her. He kept one hand tickling, while the other grabbed both of her hands and held them easily. She kept squealing and wriggling, and before he knew it, her fingers were brushing bare skin as her shirt rode up slightly. His eyes widened and his breath caught again. The tickles slowly turned to gentle caresses across her stomach. Her squeals slowly subsided and turned to small contented noises, almost like a cat being petted. He stopped, his large hand resting on her stomach, looking down at her. Her eyes slowly opened to stare up at him, her pupils large. His hand slowly released her arms and lowered to her cheek, his thumb brushing across her lips, his fingers stroking her cheek. Her breath intensified slightly, and her lips parted slightly. He couldn't resist his impulses any longer, and without even thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed her.

His usual timidness fled with the wind the moment his lips touched hers. Her lips were everything all at once, wet, warm, soft, and sleek. She didn't seem to be upset, in fact her arms reached up and wound around his neck, returning his kiss with the same fervor. He opened his mouth against hers tentatively, seeing how she'd react. Her reaction was not what he expected.

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I hadn't expect the kiss. Or the tickling. He was usually so shy. But getting back to the kiss. You know, that thing that was making my head spin, my mind run through every song it had stored and throw them all away as unworthy to describe what I was feeling, and my toes curl. It had been so unexpected and random, but yet so perfect. His lips were warm, and although he was gentle, he also was silently demanding enough to make tingles go to places that shouldn't be getting tingles. When his mouth opened slightly against mine, I willingly opened my mouth almost fully, allowing him full access. His tongue shot in quickly, as if he was afraid I'd close my mouth. He began gently exploring every inch of my mouth, meanwhile his hand began slowly doing its own exploration of my stomach. At the same time his hand held my cheek and stroked it. So many sensations all at once. And another was quickly making itself known, something rather large pressing against my back.

I didn't break away like I thought I would, instead I licked at his own tongue with mine. I was surprised at myself, most guys that kissed me got slapped or kicked, and here I was practically opening my mouth for him... shit, I'd done that. What the hell was wrong with me? Whatever was wrong, more of that and more of the kiss was all I wanted. He complied, as if reading my mind, and his explorations grew bolder. His tongue slid along the roof of my mouth as his hand dipped a bit lower, his fingers trailing along the waistband of my jeans. He never went lower though, which just endeared him to me further, and when we finally broke the kiss several moments later, I covered his mouth with a few light butterfly kisses before blushing and pulling back. His dark eyes were deep pools of dark blue as he looked down at me.

"Now why didn't we try that sooner?" He wondered out loud, and I laughed softly, and pulled his mouth down against mine again.

To be Continued...