Author's Notes: This was part of a longer followup to Anger Is An Energy that I couldn't get working but I still like this bit.

As always in this collection of future vignettes, I don't know whether I'm writing happy Maeve or out-of-character Maeve.

I'm still moving forward with my happy story but sometimes ideas occur and I need to write them out of my system. I wish I had been able to finish it before S2 started.

I really am not certain that Maeve would like the movies I reference but then again she is a complex female character and contains multitudes. Or maybe it's Jean's influence.

Day Trip

Maeve and Otis settled into the seats at the rear of the carriage. Otis took two bottles of water out of his bag and offered one to Maeve. She nodded and took it and had a sip while Otis placed their bags beneath the seats as best he could.

"I hate that you're paying," Maeve said.

"I know," Otis said, understandingly.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Otis smiled a little, then glanced out the window, watching the scenery outside slide away as the train began moving forward.

Maeve looked at him and smiled gently then leaned closer and whispered sexily into his ear. "I can swallow next time, if you want."

Otis turned to her, scrunching his face. "Do you think I'm that transactional?"

Maeve shrugged, disappointed.

"Anyway, you know what Aimee said about the implications of calling them dick sneezes," Otis said. "I don't want you swallowing snot."

Maeve shrugged. "She still swallows."

"Um," began Otis and continued slowly. "I don't think that's the sort of thing you're meant to be sharing with me."

Maeve pouted, defensively. "She told Steve about the thing with the flute."

"I don't think she meant to mention that. It slipped out."

Their eyes met and both began to blush at the same time and turned away from each other.

"That's not what I meant," Otis said, embarrassed.

"I shouldn't have told her about it," Maeve said, biting her lip.

"Yeah, why did you tell her about it? I don't tell Eric about the things we get up to."

"The art room?"

"I didn't tell him."

"Then how did he know?"

Otis began to hem and haw.

"Otis…?" began Maeve, threateningly.

"You were reflected in one of the sculptures."

"What?" asked Maeve, shocked.

"I didn't know how to tell you."

"He saw?" asked Maeve, mortified.

"Only a little."

"God, we have got to stop doing shit at school," Maeve said, blushing.

"It was your choice, if I remember correctly," said Otis.

"I didn't sense a lot of reluctance from you."

"Anyway, it was just the one comment. And you must admit it was pretty discreet. For Eric."

"Did you know about the reflection while I was down there?" Maeve asked, mock-suspiciously.

"My attention was focussed elsewhere at the time."

Maeve giggled in spite of herself. God, when was the last time she had giggled before Otis. She was doing it too much lately.

"You are making me too soft, you bastard," she said.

"I can't say you do the same for me," Otis said, smirking.

Maeve looked at him and smirked then leant over and ostentatiously studied his lap.

"Old problem coming up again?" she asked, innocently.

Otis looked at her, shocked. "How do you know about that? Did Eric tell you?"

"You can't get a boner in assembly and shove it in the face of the girl sitting next to you without people talking, Jawbreaker."

Otis winced in embarrassment at the public mention of that particular nickname. "I didn't shove it in her face," he said defensively.

"Why didn't you cover yourself?"

"I didn't have anything."

"You should have been wearing your shirts loose and long."

"I didn't think of it."

Maeve pondered for a moment then murmured into his ear, "Did that work as a double entrendre?"

Otis pondered and frowned. "I'm not sure."

Maeve sat back, gaze wandering out the window.

"Anyway," said Otis, "how did you hear about it? I didn't think you were back at school then."

"Talk has legs. It wasn't the only time, was it?"

"Oh, god," muttered Otis.

"I think you still have a few curious fans."

"Yeah, I bet you're beating them off," Otis said.

"No, that's what you're supposed to do."

Otis chuckled.

"God," said Maeve. "Can you imagine if we were still doing the clinic when you got them?"

"What would you have done?"

"Convinced you that it was a perfectly normal thing for a friend to do and it wasn't cheating and as an example of an equally reciprocal transaction I would have offered to let you do the same for me."

Otis smiled at her, eyes glittering.

"Or we could have classified it as prepatory investigative techniques so you'd be ready if one of your clients came to you with the same issue."

Otis chuckled, gazing at her fondly.

"Failing that I would have stabbed Ola in the eye and dumped her body in the river."

Otis flinched, scrunching his face in disgust. "Oh, Maeve. That's horrible. That's so wrong."

Maeve looked at him, remorseful. "Yeah, sorry."

"You've got to come up with less violent imagery," Otis said then corrected himself. "No, sorry, I would prefer you to come up with less violent imagery."

"Tickle her to death with a feather duster?"

Otis pressed his lips together to conceal a grin, then said, "It's better, but there's still that death bit in there that I'm squicky about."

"I can still threaten to bash you around the head with a baseball bat, can't I?"

"Yeah, I love when you threaten me. It's just when it's other people, it makes me uncomfortable."

"Masochist."

"I love scary Maeve, remember?" he said.

Maeve leant over for a very well-reciprocated kiss.

"So how did you get it under control? Ola help you?" she asked.

"Eventually," said Otis.

Maeve gazed out the window, reminding herself she no longer had any reason to be jealous.

"I got caught once," Otis said after a hesitant moment.

"What?" Maeve said, amused.

"Mum caught me," Otis said, embarrassed, glancing at her out of the side of his eyes.

Maeve laughed. "I told you we need to fix your bedroom lock properly. I'm still blushing from last time."

"Mum's professional expertise means she completely understood."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one she copped an eyeful of. I'm sensing a pattern here, Milburn."

Otis chuckled and glanced across the carriage. He leant closer to Maeve's ear and whispered, "I think we've grossed out those two over there."

Maeve glanced idly around, pursed her lips indifferently and turned back to Otis, shrugging. "Fuck 'em. Carriage is empty. If they've got a problem, they can move."

Otis surreptitiously watched as the two women a few seats ahead rose and, deliberately ignoring the young lovers, walked along the carriage away from them.

"I think they heard you," Otis said, quietly.

"Good," Maeve said, indifferently.

They watched the two women walk through the door to the other carriage then Otis turned to Maeve and said, "I wasn't in my bedroom."

"Where were you?" Maeve asked, amused.

"I was in the car," Otis said, his embarrassment increasing.

"The car?" she laughed, shocked and amused.

"We were at the supermarket. Mum went in to get something and… I had my problem and I thought, well, she was going to be a few minutes."

"She came back too soon," Maeve said, nervously grinning with amused horror.

"She forgot her purse."

"Oh, don't tell me she copped a real eyeful," Maeve said, gently anxious.

"The window was closed," Otis assured her, "but… right by her."

Maeve laughed. "Fuck, Otis."

"I was mortified."

"You are a pervert, Milburn," she said, grinning at him.

"We didn't say anything on the way home and I just grabbed something from the fridge and went up to my bedroom and stayed there all night trying to figure out what country was best to emigrate to."

"Oh, fuck," laughed Maeve.

"Breakfast next morning was excruciating. That was proof mum is a secret sadist."

"What did she say?"

Otis shrugged. "Just… you know… appropriate places, it's illegal but… cringe factor several billion."

"Never mind. What doesn't kill us…"

"I wished something would kill me. I wished a space laser would go rogue and just… zap me."

"No, you didn't," said Maeve and leant in for a passionate kiss.

When it was over, they stared into each other's eyes.

"Oh, welcome back, Cute Otis. I have missed you," Maeve said, theatrically.

"Well, I think that's enough Cute Otis to last the rest of the year."

"Don't you believe it. I can never get enough of Cute Otis," Maeve said, sitting back, smiling to herself before turning her head to look at him. "You know I really love Sexy Otis, too."

"I know."

"I just miss Cute Otis sometimes."

"I can't unlearn the things I've learned."

"Maybe we can get you a mindwipe."

"Maybe a hypnotist could work," suggested Otis.

"We could try that."

"What if I forget I'm in love with you?"

"I'll show you 50 First Dates."

Otis scrunched his face.

"Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler make a cute couple," Maeve asserted.

"I'll admit Drew Barrymore makes Adam Sandler likeable," Otis conceded.

"You don't have them on your laptop, do you? I'm in the mood for a triple feature."

"Blended really isn't very good, remember?"

"I know, but Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler make a cute couple."

Otis turned his head to tenderly watch Maeve as she watched him.

"I never thought Maeve Wiley would ever be hankering for an Adam Sandler rom-com marathon," he murmured.

"And Drew Barrymore," Maeve gently asserted then moved her gaze to the scenery outside the window.

Otis noticed a shadow briefly cloud her face but it was gone when she returned her gaze to his.

"You're making me soft, Milburn. I'm going to have to dump you."

"That'll be the day I die," Otis said, quietly.

"Don't say that," whispered Maeve.

Otis gazed at her tenderly for a few moments, then murmured, "Sorry."

Maeve sighed and looked around the carriage, glancing at the scenery either side.

"How long until we get there?" she asked.

"About an hour fifty until the station. Then however long it takes to get a cab."

"I still hate how much this is costing you."

"It's a late birthday present, that's all," Otis murmured.

Maeve pursed her lips and wished the rawness in her throat would go away.

"And since there are no birthday pages in your diary, then it's not happening so it isn't costing me anything," Otis continued.

Maeve lolled her head to look at him and rolled her eyes. "You're failing in logic, aren't you?"

"I got a B on the last quiz."

"I just want to do something nice for you."

"This is nice, Maeve. You're allowing me to share this."

Maeve wandered her gaze across his face and Otis wished he could reach inside and tear out the pain she couldn't conceal any longer.

"Do you think she'll remember me?"

"Of course, she'll remember you," Otis said. "It's only been three months."

Author's Notes: Can I justify Maeve liking Adam Sandler rom-coms? Not really, I just wanted the 50 First Dates reference.

But George Carlin said, "Inside every cynical person is a disappointed idealist." Maybe these are glimpses of the Maeve that would have existed if it hadn't been for her shit life and feeling safe with Otis is allowing her to try out things to soothe and bring joy to that disappointed idealist. Just for a moment.

Or maybe I wrote her out of character.

If I ever salvage the rest of what I had written about their day trip to see Elsie, I'll publish a followup.