Abby had heard people get all worked up about watching their significant others sleep. They said that their lovers were never more beautiful. Abby disagreed.

So he wasn't her lover. So they were sixteen and camping in the woods with their friends. So she was freezing and having a bout of insomnia. So what? She watched him anyway, just to understand what the fuss was about.

He lay on his stomach, half his face propped on one arm that stuck straight out in front of him. In the half light she saw his open mouth dripping drool into a gradually increasing wet spot on his pillow. His glasses clung precariously to the end of his nose and he'd obviously rolled over recently because the lines of his blanket were pressed into his cheek like a tribal tattoo. No doubt about it, Hoagie was not a pretty sight while he slept.

Abby mulled over her thoughts as Kuki grumbled incoherently. Why would people think that this was attractive? Wouldn't they prefer their 'someone' awake and full of life, smiles and jokes and silliness, rather than snores?

She rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off her thoughts. Shivering, she reached for her bag amongst the pile heaped by the tent's thin wall. Too late she realized that she had grabbed Hoagie's bag instead. Abby shrugged, as she doubted that he'd be bothered by her borrowing of his bomber jacket.

She slipped the worn leather around her shoulders and shoved her tennis shoes onto bare feet. Using espionage training that was by now second-nature, Abby crept from the tent, silent as shadows.

The cool night air smacked her in the face refreshingly as the twigs popped underfoot. Shoving her hands into the pockets of Hoagie's jacket, Abby strode with no real purpose or destination in mind. An owl hooted in the distance and something fluttered from the branches above her head.

Finding a suitable spot, Abby slid to the forest floor, her back pressed into the rough bark of an old oak. The moon glowed above her, casting beams of light onto her bare calves. Her capri-pants ruffled in the slight breeze and she pulled the coat tighter around herself.

Leaves crackled and suddenly Wally was beside her, his blanket wrapped about his shoulders like a bizarre cape. He rested against the tree as well and shot her a questioning look.

"What?"

He shocked her by looking incredibly serious. For the first time in a long while, a certain brand of intelligence shone from Wally Beatles' eyes.

"Would ya do me a favor an' stop teasin' him?"

"You've lost me, sport."

Pointedly, he gestured to the jacket. "Ya know exactly what I mean, Abigail." The emphasis on her name irked her. Abby blushed and looked away. "If you're gonna break his heart, could ya do it all at once instead of one piece at a time? It's killin' him."

She turned to face him, glaring through oddly glossy eyes. "You an' I both know that I ain't doin' it on purpose, Wallabee."

He tugged the blanket off his shoulders and handed it to her. "You're the one that told me to get my act together with Kuki or face the consequences. I'm just tellin' ya the same thing." Wally stood, stretched, and walked away from her.

Abby sighed and spread the blanket over her legs. Paper rustled from inside Hoagie's jacket and she dug for it, pulling out a worn photograph.

A snapshot of herself and him from seventh grade. The glasses perched jauntily on her nose were a dead giveaway of her age. Nowadays she wore contacts. The picture was taken at a Fourth of July picnic and featured a slightly-less-rotund Hoagie making bunny ears behind the hair of a then-taller-than-him Abby. Both grinned like fools at the person behind the camera, who, (if she remembered correctly) was a photography-obsessed Kuki.

Smiling down at the picture, Abby strengthened her resolve. She would do nothing tonight. But tomorrow was a new day, with new plans. And possibly, new relationships.


Me: I LIVE!
Readers: Who is this washed up old hag?

Okay, cards on the table. I think I'm retiring from this fandom. I can't take anymore of clicking the archives and seeing only Kuki/Wally ALL THE WAY DOWN THE FREAKING PAGE.
Don't get me wrong, I love them, but when it's the same plot recycled again and again...it's tiring.
On top of that, school is eating my life. My English teacher demands a well written essay every week and it's driving me mad because there's no creativity left for me to share on fanfiction.
I'll finish Operation: REMEMBER and the piece for my contest (that I missed the deadline for) and post them, but after those, I think this is goodbye.
I've had a wonderful run here and I've made some great internet-friends. It's been fun guys and I'm sorry. I'll probably return someday, but until then, farewell my dears.

Love always and forever,

Your loyal Jess

(PS, if you find any errors, please tell me. My editing is as rusty as my writing.)