So, since my latest obsession is the Shades of London series, I figured I should chip in a bit of fanfiction or whatever. This is a one-shot set on the night before the big battle against Sid and Sadie. Honestly, I have no idea how Maureen Johnson is going to, like, defeat those two, but this is my take on it. Hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: All SoL characters belong to Maureen Johnson.

Of Tea and Midnight Kisses

"This is the boy you broke up with. And at the moment, it's very clear that your feelings lie elsewhere. There was something in your demeanor that told me you were in love, but obviously not with Jerome. It all made sense once I saw this one. The way you reacted only confirmed it. This is the boy you love."

(The Shadow Cabinet)

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Life is ironic. Like when you spend an hour in the morning doing your hair until it's perfect and then it rains. Or when you stay up all night studying for a big science test and then find out the test isn't until next Friday.

Or when you have a huge fight/smackdown against two really evil and somewhat polite twins to save the world and you can't get in a wink of sleep the night before.

Rory scowled at the ceiling. She couldn't tell whether her insomnia was just because she had really terrible luck or if she was just so scared, her mind refused to be silenced. Or maybe she couldn't sleep because these dang springs in this dang couch were pressing into her back and making it impossible to get comfortable. Whatever the cause was, it all had the same effect: her body refused to sleep.

Sighing in frustration, she sat up, spreading her legs out across the couch. Her mind was whirling with thoughts of tomorrow. Tomorrow, the day when she would have to face Sid and Sadie, the twins from 1973 who were bent on defeating death, and fight to save the world. And she would have to do it alone.

She wasn't entirely sure why her friends couldn't fight with her. Sid and Sadie had requested that she come alone. She had a feeling it had something to do with her being a human terminus. Rory had already been a part of one ceremony due to her Terminator abilities and she suspected that it was about to happen a second time. Callum, Boo, and Stephen had done the best they could to train her so she could defeat the twins, but Rory knew it was all hopeless. She could have a black belt in karate and be the smartest person on earth, but she had a talent for messing things up. More than likely, the entire situation will spiral downward, the world will be destroyed, and it will be her fault.

She glanced around the small flat. Rory had moved in about a month ago and because the flat was only meant for three people (Callum, Boo, and Stephen) she had been exiled to the couch. Granted, Stephen had been a gentleman and offered to take the couch and she could have his bed, but she had refused that arrangement. Rory had already almost destroyed his life once. The least she could do was let him keep his bedroom.

And using Stephen's bed, sleeping in his sheets . . . the thought sent her heart racing.

Stephen and her had had a complicated relationship since he had come back. Rory wasn't even sure what was going on. All she knew was that they had kissed, she had enjoyed it (a lot), he might have enjoyed it (but who knew, since Stephen's favorite hobby was hiding his emotions from everyone he knew), and they might both like each other but they're too scared to do anything about it so they've resorted to skirting around each other for the past month and avoiding any potential awkward moments.

Except that they had had plenty of those despite their obvious efforts to avoid them. Glances at each other that lingered for a moment too long, accidentally walking really close to each other which did not go unnoticed by Boo and Callum, saying things without thinking which lead to intense blushing. There was definitely something between them, Rory knew that, but she didn't know what the heck it was. And it didn't help that Stephen was clearly miffed that she was still friends with Jerome.

Rory let her head fall back and her eyes burned holes in the ceiling. Tomorrow. She needed to focus on tomorrow. That was what was important. None of this boy drama would matter if the world was destroyed tomorrow.

Feeling very restless all of a sudden, Rory dragged herself off of the couch and walked over to the small kitchen on the other side of the room. The cabinets were nearly empty, she noticed. They were completely bare except for some chocolate chip cookies, a jar of peanut butter, and some chips. They really needed to go to the grocery store. Rory grabbed the cookies and peanut butter and then started to make herself some tea. She smiled when she remembered how she hated tea when she first came to London. Now, her day wasn't complete without a cup of it. The British were taking her over. She was becoming one of them.

Once her tea was made, she leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen and dipped the cookies in the peanut butter. There were papers scattered all over the surface of the island and her eyes scanned them, even though she didn't need to. She had read them over many times before. They were notes the team had made about Sid and Sadie: the reported murders that had happened over the past month that they suspected were Sid and Sadie's doing, what they appeared to be going after, their strengths, their weaknesses. They had also printed off articles they found on the internet, talking about what had happened in 1973, when they had murdered ten people and seemed to have killed themselves also. Just reading all of this made Rory feel better, even if she had read it over many times before. At least she was doing something, something that would benefit her in the long run.

But the sad truth was, their little group had no idea what Sid and Sadie were planning to do. It seemed different from what Jane had been trying to do and it was something no one had ever seen before.

A door opened and closed down the hall. Rory glanced up from the papers and saw Stephen come into the room in all of his messy-hair-and-rumpled-pajamas goodness. Immediately, Rory's heart picked up speed and her hands got so sweaty, she almost dropped her cup of tea. Stephen tended to have this effect on her and it was very annoying.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the counter a few feet from where Rory was standing. His arms were crossed and he was watching her. It was very unnerving.

"Hi," she said as nonchalantly as she could. Unfortunately, Rory did not have a talent for nonchalance, so her voice cracked. She cleared her throat to turn her attention away from her burning face.

"Can't sleep?" he asked. When she shook her head, Stephen gave her a sympathetic smile. But Stephen Dene isn't very practiced in smiles, so it came out looking like he was trying to lift something heavy. "Neither can I. Too nervous about tomorrow, I guess."

Rory shot him a look. "You're nervous? Why are you nervous? I mean, aside from the fact that if I don't succeed, the world as we know it will be obliterated. But that kinda seems like my problem."

Stephen's sympathetic-smile-that-really-didn't-look-like-a-smile melted into a real one and this smile looked much better. "I guess I'm just nervous . . . for you," he said. Rory tried not to think about the fact that he had almost said "about you" instead of what he did say. She also tried to stop those annoying little flutters of her heart. She couldn't afford to think about that right now. That was really distracting.

Stephen cleared his throat. "So, what're you looking at?" he asked. When Rory shrugged and turned back to the papers, Stephen came over and looked at what she was looking at. When he saw, he let out a small sigh of exasperation. "Rory, you're gonna do fine tomorrow. Stop worrying about it."

For some reason, his comment sparked a flare of anger in her. "Oh, sorry for stressing out about the fact that I'm going to singlehandedly save or destroy the world tomorrow. I'll just quit trying to prepare and go watch TV or something."

Stephen let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, Rory, I didn't mean it that way."

"It sure sounded like you did," Rory grumbled, scanning an article about the mysterious murders in 1973. She dipped another cookie in the peanut butter and stuffed it in her mouth.

Both Stephen and Rory were silent for a couple minutes. Rory went through the papers and drank her tea and ate her cookies and tried not to think about the fact that Stephen was watching her intently. Which was a fancy way of saying that she got no work done whatsoever because, well, Stephen was watching her intently.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. Rory turned to look at him. Now, he was looking everywhere but her. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "What I meant was that you need to have confidence in yourself. I know this whole thing is stressful and I feel terrible for throwing it all on you, but I believe that you can do this. Now you just have to believe it too."

Rory looked at him for a moment and swallowed nervously. "Thanks," she said. Was her voice really gravelly or was that just her?

Stephen nodded and cleared his throat. "So, uh, since we're looking," he said, "have you found any new information that might be useful?"

It was cute that he thought she had actually focused on what she was doing. He should know by now that focusing on the task at hand was not how she rolled in life. She shook her head. "Nothing. Just the same old stuff. I have no idea what to think of these guys." She paused and ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly, reality was catching up to her and she felt a bubbling hysteria rising in her throat. She set down her tea and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know how I'm going to do this, Stephen. All we know about Sid and Sadie is that they're twins, they murder people, and they're evil. We don't even know what they're planning! How am I supposed to go up against these people tomorrow by myself when I don't even know what they're going to do?"

Her voice sounded broken and whiny to her, but Stephen either didn't hear it or was choosing to ignore it. He gently pried her hands away from her face and looked her in the eye. "One of the things I've picked up on since I met you," he replied, "is that one of your greatest talents is winging it in situations like this." When Rory snorted, Stephen continued with, "It's true. I'm sure you didn't follow Charlotte up to that room planning to find me and wake me up from my coma. And I'm also pretty sure that you didn't know what you were going to have to do to get me back during that little ceremony with Jane. You just dove in to all that without having any idea what was going to happen. Don't tell me that this is any different."

It kind of was different, a lot different, because the world was at stake now, but Rory didn't reply. Instead, she stared at the hand that was latched onto her wrist. Stephen hadn't touched her on purpose like this since they put the Oswulf Stone back in its place. The feeling of his hand on her wrist sent an electricity streaming all the way up her arm and through the rest of her body. Stephen must have noticed where her mind went. He quickly removed his hand.

"Sorry," he murmured. That apology did something to Rory. She was so tired of this: tired of having to act like she didn't care about Stephen, tired of having to avoid any "moments" like this, tired of having to battle her feelings. All she really wanted right then was for him to hold her and tell her that he would be there for her and, yeah, okay, she wanted him to kiss her, but who could blame her? She was so sick and tired of the way they were with each other when it was obvious that both of them wanted to be something more.

"We've got to figure this out," she said.

Stephen gave her a confused look. "Figure what out?"

She waved her hand between the two of them. "What do you think? Us. What's going on between us. People don't just kiss and not say anything about it."

Stephen sighed and dropped his head. "Rory, I really don't think we should talk about this right now."

In spite of herself, Rory barked out a laugh. "Why? The world might be ending tomorrow anyway, so really it's now or never."

"I don't want to distract you from preparing for-"

"You think you're going to distract me?" Rory repeated. She shook her head and crossed her arms, giving him a narrow-eyed stare. "Stephen, I am so scared right now, that I don't think anything could distract me right now. So you don't have to worry about that."

Stephen didn't reply. He stared at her and she swallowed nervously. Only then did she notice their close proximity. They were as close as two people could be without touching. Rory's breath hitched and judging from the way Stephen visibly tensed, he seemed to notice it also. When he started to take a step back, Rory grabbed his wrist, keeping him in place. He froze under her touch.

"Rory, please-" Stephen started, but he was silenced by Rory's glare.

"No," she said. "No, we need to talk about this. I'm so tired of skirting around each other and trying to act normal when clearly things are not normal between us. So we need to figure this out. Now."

Stephen sighed in defeat and ran a hand through his hair. "I think this is a bad time."

"I could die tomorrow. I think this is a great time."

"Rory, stop saying that," Stephen demanded. His strict tone momentarily shocked Rory into silence, but she quickly composed herself again.

"Why?" she said angrily. "Do you even care if I die tomorrow? If I did, would you miss me, the actual real me, or would you miss the termini?"

As she said it, she realized how much that question had haunted her this past month. Did he really care about her or the fact that she was their terminus? Was that the only reason he protected her like she was the only thing that mattered? Was that the reason he had kissed her in the first place? Because he wanted to keep her close and that was the best way he knew how? The very idea that that was the reason behind their kiss made her panic.

Her panic died as Stephen shook his head violently. "Of course I would miss you. I would be destroyed if you died tomorrow." Rory's breath caught as Stephen hesitated. "I do care about you, Rory."

Rory shook her head. "Then why don't you show it? Why do you avoid me?"

Stephen ran a hand through his hair again - a habit of his for whenever he was frustrated or angry, Rory was picking up on. He moved away from her and leaned against the counter across from her. She crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly.

He sighed. "I suppose I just think that I'm not, uh, good enough for you. That you deserve better than some unstable police officer who hunts down ghosts."

Rory swallowed nervously. "You're not unstable," was all she could think of to say. Great comeback, Rory.

Stephen chuckled bitterly and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. "And then there's Jerome," he continued and Rory almost choked.

"Jerome?" she repeated, checking to see if she had heard right. He couldn't possibly think that she and Jerome were still a thing, right? Rory thought over the past month and her stomach dropped. Okay, so maybe it was understandable that Stephen thought that. She had spent a lot of time with Jerome, but it was only because they were friends. Just friends. And she needed friends, normal friends, to keep her sane with everything going on. She could understand why Stephen thought that she and Jerome were still a thing. She had to set that right.

"Jerome and I are just friends," she corrected. "I swear."

"Then why do you spend so much time with him?" Stephen asked and under different circumstances, Rory would have laughed and made fun of him for looking and sounding so uncomfortable. Clearly, talking about feelings and other guys was not his thing.

"I don't spend so much time with him."

Stephen sent her a look that said get real. And she knew that he was right. She had spent almost every free day she had with him and Jaz, going to a local pub or going shopping. Now that it was all coming into the light, it did look like her and Jerome still had a thing.

"Okay," she corrected. "So maybe I do spend a lot of time with him. But I swear, we aren't a thing."

"Why do you spend so much time with him?" Stephen asked. He still refused to look at her. Apparently, he found the ceiling very interesting.

Rory swallowed. This was really something she didn't want to talk about with any of her ghost-hunting friends and especially not Stephen. But she felt like she owed an explanation to him, so she said, "Well, um, I guess it's because he's, you know, normal." Oh goodness, it sounded terrible out loud too. "Not that you're not normal. You just, uh, hunt ghosts and all. And Jerome doesn't." She paused, gauging his reaction. When she didn't see anything that made her want to stop talking, she continued. "Jerome was there for me during the Ripper attacks. He was there while my entire life was falling apart before me. He was something normal to hold on to. I guess by staying friends with him, I'm trying to hold on to a part of my old life."

She stopped talking then. Stephen was watching her and she couldn't read his expression (which, honestly, wasn't a strange thing - she could never read his expression). She bit her lip. "Sorry for not telling you."

Stephen shook his head. "No, I'm sorry for just assuming things without talking to you about it."

Rory cracked a smile. "That does tend to be your thing."

Stephen smiled but didn't reply. An awkward silence filled the room and Rory took it upon herself to break it. She walked over to where he was standing and leaned against the counter next to him, purposefully pressing the side of her body against his.

"Rory . . ." he started, trailing off.

She shook her head. "I'm so scared, Stephen," she murmured and at those words, Stephen wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. She rested her head on his shoulder and reveled in his warmth.

"It'll be okay," he murmured, pressing his lips lightly against her forehead. "Remember what I told you before? In the tunnels under Hyde Park? I'm with you. We can do this."

She kissed him.

She couldn't help it. She felt the need to kiss him like she felt the need to breathe. She turned herself into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. After only a second's hesitation, Stephen let out a little sigh just like he had the last time they kissed. He placed his hands on her waist and pressed her back into the counter, kissing her like the world was ending. Her mind was entirely wiped of everything except for Stephen's lips on her, his body against hers. She had been craving this feeling for so long and judging from the way he was kissing her, he had been too.

Rory was the one to pull away first. Stephen rested his forehead on hers and his short breaths mixed with hers. He seemed rattled and unfocused, which was so unlike Stephen that Rory let out a small laugh.

"What?" Stephen asked. He was clearly trying to regain control of his breathing and failing miserably at it.

Rory smiled. "You just . . . you're just so unlike yourself right now. It's funny."

Stephen scowled, which made Rory laugh again. She brought her hand down to his face and brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. His jaw flexed and he brought his lips to hers again, enveloping them in a much softer, sweeter kiss than the one before. His thumbs slipped under the hem of her shirt and brushed over the scar that ran along her belly. She shivered despite herself. Whenever Jerome and her had kissed, she had panicked when he got close to her scar. She thought that it had been a physical deformity that would disgust him when he touched it. With Stephen, it was different. When he touched it, she felt like he was telling her without words that the scar just made her more beautiful. That her flaws made her beautiful.

They pulled apart smiling. "Mm," Rory said, pressing her lips together, as if to keep the kiss in. "That was nice."

"Very nice," Stephen agreed. Then he furrowed his eyebrows together, like he didn't know that those words had just come out of his mouth. She laughed and he brought his hand up from her waist to her face, brushing some stray strands of hair from her forehead. "You really need to get some sleep," he told her. "You do have a big day tomorrow."

Rory groaned as her worry and stress returned. She felt like she'd just run straight into a brick wall. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

Stephen gave her a small smile and took her hand, pulling her to the couch. "Come on," he said. He sat down on the couch next to her and Rory was very satisfied to see that he sat right next to her rather than on the other side of the couch. She smiled. It was about the small steps in the long run.

They turned on the TV. Some British sitcom was on that Rory had never heard of, but Stephen and her settled down to watch it. She kept her fingers interlocked with his as if he could anchor her there and keep her from wandering off into the unknown realm of her mind. Because her mind was filled with self-doubt of her abilities, with images of the world in chaos because she had failed to defeat Sid and Sadie.

She replayed Stephen's words from earlier. I'm with you. And she knew he would be, without a shadow of a doubt. He would be there, by her side, silently offering his support, just as he always was.

She fell asleep half an hour later, her head on Stephen's shoulder, her hand still clasping his like she would never let go.

I really love Stephen Dene. He's at the top of my fictional boyfriend list right now.

Review!

"Depend on God and keep at it because in the Lord God you have a sure thing." Isaiah 26:4 MSG