Sticky Mouths Make Sticky Kisses

Summary: Short, fluffy L/G ficlet. Lizzie's sick, Gordo's at the carnival, and brings her some cotton candy afterwards. Things get a bit sticky between the two. Slight AU: no movie. Cute and to the point, with major L/G. R&R please. Tell me if I should continue.

A/N 1: Hey! My first Lizzie McGuire story. Yay! I wrote this in like… an hour, so it's really short. Plus, I don't have a beta-reader. I felt like I made Lizzie and Gordo out of character, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't get them any better. Hmm… Oh well. Enjoy anyway!

I, Lizzie McGuire, vow never to get sick again. I've decided that I hate it; I hate everything from the sweaty, uncomfortable feeling, to the missing school. Especially when that school day just happens to be the long-planned fieldtrip to the sojourning carnival. And the thing that really, really ticks me off, is when my friends call from that carnival and tell me how much fun they're having.

And I'm stuck in bed, puking my guts out and trying to keep down saltine crackers.

I looked out the window, where the sun was shining brightly. Great. Just great. It's the perfect day to get the perfect tan, and I can't even go outside!

At that moment the telephone rang and I looked over at the caller ID, where I recognized the number as Gordo's cell phone. I hesitated to answer it, then picked up the receiver; after all, he had taken the time to call and hadn't forgotten about me.

"Lizzie!" Gordo yelled over the noise. I heard an up-and-down, up-and-down vibration in the background and could distinctly hear Miranda's wild shrieks over everything else.

"Moon bounce?" I asked, not able to hold back my grin. Despite the fact that we would soon be ending our first year of high school, Miranda's inner child shone through clearly, with her favorite thing to do at a carnival consisting of bare feet and a bouncy tent.

"Yep," Gordo said. "So how're you doing? Feeling any better?"

"No. As miserable as ever."

"Sorry," he said, sounding truly apologetic. "I really wish you were here. It would make the day perfect."

I sighed heavily. "Trust me, I wish I were there, too. Of all days I had to get sick it just had to be the least boring school day of the whole entire year."

"I know, I—"

"Gordo! Come on!" I heard another voice through the phone, and a rustling and bumping of something.

"Lizzie, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling dejected. "Oh, and Gordo?"

"Way ahead of you, McGuire. I'll bring you your cotton candy as soon as I get back."

I smiled and hung up the phone, feeling slightly better. Gordo had that affect on me.

The alarm clock on my bedside table glowed one o'clock—a whole hour and a half before school was out. I turned over, feeling frustrated and bothered, when I felt something sharp poke my leg. Jerking back, I looked at the foot of my bed, where my new yearbook lay. I had gotten it the day before at the annual yearbook signing, signaling only one week to go before finals and, finally, the start of summer.

I reached down and propped the book open on my lap, flipping through the pages I had practically memorized at school the day before. I was proud; this year, I was in the yearbook a whopping twelve times. I looked through the pictures of my grade, stopping when I got to the G's, and most particularly, David Gordon.

I had to admit, it was a good picture, and Gordo… Gordo, well, looked cute. I know, I know; of all people, his best friend should be the last one saying he was cute. But it was the truth, and before long, I couldn't help but think how much he had changed this past year. Without thinking, I picked up a pen from my table and drew a heart around Gordo's picture.

Maybe I should see a doctor. I've heard of a lot of weird symptoms before, but I never knew insanity was one of them.

Suddenly feeling much more elated than a sick person should, I pushed the yearbook to the side and promptly fell asleep.

"Lizzie. Lizzie! McGuire, wake up!

My eyelids fluttered open and I saw my reflection mirrored twice in a pair of bright blue eyes.

"Gordo?" I mumbled, struggling to sit up.

"No, no, no," he said, pushing me right back down. "Don't get up. You're sick."

I was sweaty and hot, but momentarily soothed when Gordo's cool hand brushed my clammy bangs away from my face. He smiled down at me, patted my head, and pulled a chair up to my bed.

I stretched and sat up just a little further under the watchful eye of Gordo, before looking over at my clock again. "It's six already? How long have you been sitting there?"

Gordo shrugged modestly, avoiding my gaze. "An hour. Two. Three. And a half."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. "That long? Gordo, you should have woken me up sooner!"

He shrugged again. "That's okay. You're sick; you need your rest. Besides, I found ways to occupy myself."

His eyes shot to the floor and back, almost too quickly for me to catch. I looked down, too, and saw my now closed yearbook.

"Oh," I said, feeling my face catch fire and radiate heat. I had left it open to his picture… to the picture I had drawn a heart around.

"Anyway," he mended quickly, "here you go." He handed me a clear bag filled with fluffy pink cotton candy, my favorite kind.

I grinned and took it from him, untying the bag and digging in. "I'm probably going to throw this right bag up in an hour," I said, licking my gluey fingers, "but right now, I can't think of anything better than some good old cotton candy."

"You may want to get a shower when you're done hanging over the toilet," Gordo laughed. "You've gotten cotton candy all around your mouth. You look sticky."

"I feel sticky." In any case, that didn't seem to bother me. I continued eating, until— "Gordo!"

"What?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed and looking worried. "Are you okay? Are you going to vomit? Do you need—"

"No! Your necklace!"

He felt his neck, his expression clearing when he felt the candy necklace hanging, the kind where you bit the little round hoops off of the string.

"Want some?" he offered.

I nodded, sitting fully up as he sat on the edge of my bed. He leaned in as far as he could and I did the same, both of us forgetting that I was contagious and dangerous. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a place I wasn't using to think with right at that moment, I briefly wondered why he didn't just take the necklace off and let me bite it from there.

In any case, I didn't care, and enclosed my mouth on a piece of candy. Being that close to Gordo should be made illegal; my stomach flip-flopped, and for a moment I thought I was going to have to run to the bathroom again. Then I realized I liked the feeling. And—wait, since when did Gordo wear aftershave? Since when did Gordo shave?

My sticky lips moved across the skin of Gordo's neck as I cautiously broke the candy with my teeth, making sure all the sugary pieces fell into my mouth. Normally I would have pulled away, but I broke down the candy further, with string and all, until there was nothing left but a sweet taste in my mouth. I was really enjoying this more than I should.

Somewhat hesitantly, I let go of the string, and it sprung back into place around Gordo's neck; it was wet where I had touched it, and I saw it visibly made him shiver when it came into contact with him.

I was confused. Really, really lost. Beyond mystified and bewilderment. One minute I was enjoying some time with my best friend while eating cotton candy, and the next thing I knew I was staring at his neck. Yes, that's right, I still hadn't moved. Neither had he.

Almost as though he read my thoughts, his head moved slightly, but not enough so that I could see his eyes or have any idea of what he was thinking. As if I had no control over anything I was doing—I didn't, honest!—I moved my lips slowly along his neck, hardly touching him, but close enough so I could feel the Goosebumps that spread across his skin.

I was at his chin now and too far gone to stop—stop what? What the hell was I doing? I found out soon enough, but for the life of me couldn't figure out where I gathered the courage to plant my mouth on his, or why the hell it felt so damn good.

I was no longer Lizzie McGuire. I was some madwoman who just happened to be in a fifteen-year-old body. There was no way that the slightly dirky, somewhat clumsy Lizzie would ever in a million years kiss her best friend. And yet here I was, doing just that.

Someone call the doctor, Miss McGuire has lost her mind.

A/N 2: The end! Tell me if I should post another chapter. I have some good ideas, but if you don't like it, I'll stop here.

Sneeze on a penguin,

Loozie Gordork