Matt watched as Christie ran through the rain back to the hotel.

"Damnit!" He swore, running a hand through his wet mop of hair. This was what he deserved right? This was what a freak like him deserved.

"You're not a freak Matt..." Christie's voice swam in his head. It was soon followed by an onslaught of images, of memories. From the moment she first walked, sobbing, into him, to the snide comment made by both parties in the cafe after...why hadn't he kissed her in the elevator? Feeling the shock as she ripped the sunglasses off his face and, for the first time, not being angry about it. The sensation of kissing her, pulling her into him, lips locked in a hungry embrace, the taste of her. The angry that had consumed him after what that ass tried to do. Laughing in the courtyard, holding her hand...and strongest of all, waking up to her soft fingers brushing a hair from his face and sinking back to sleep, fingers entwined.

"Why did you get a girlfriend?" That question...yeah...he'd asked it himself more than a few times. Emily, she was...likeable. She was witty and beautiful, and they shared a few interests. Hell, if it hadn't been for Christie he might have actually fallen for the blonde. He wanted to...he wanted to just have been able to forget about the brunette on the otherside of the country. To replace her in his mind with Emily.

An hour or two later, Matt was sitting in the hotel cafe. Emily had dumped him, well, at least that was one positive thing about the evening. At least now he could have these feelings with out feeling quilty...On second thought, this was not terribly comforting or postive, he mused. He really did like her. She was one of the few people not Sandra to ever actually make him smile.

"Well...none of them were you." He remembered the shock on Christie's face after she had said that. He remembered wanting nothing more than to laugh and tell her he felt the same. He remembered feeling a mix of sadness and relief that she had left before glimpseing his blush.

"Brilliant Matt." He growled at the wet sunglassed reflection in his coffee.

"No." Sandra's disapproving voice said from somewhere behind him, "You're really not."

"Piss off." He grumbled.

"Go. Tell. Her." Sandra started, "IF you ACTUALLY care about either her or Emily, GET OVER YOURSELF AND ADMIT IT!!"

"Stay out of it."

"Not this time Matt." his sister wrapped her arms around her from behind, "I'm tried of watching you hurt. And I'm sick of watching you hurt everyone else."

"I don't know what room she's in this time." Matt muttered, a smirk fighting desperately to reach his scowling face. "Floor 612 it is. I'm getting off at 306 myself."

"Oh, no prob. She'll be down in about 10 minutes." With that Sandra grinned and left, heading back to the J-pop dance she had left Greta at.

"SHE'LL BE WHAT!?" Matt considered running. He seriously considered running. He considered running as he pushed the up button on the elevator and kept considering it as he waited.

DING! The doors slid open, and who was standing there but Christie. Her eyes were red from tears and her hair was mussed. Before Matt knew what he was doing he had stepped inside and was holding her.

"W-w-hat are you-" Chriss tried to ask as the elevators doors closed. Tears welled up in her eyes and she just sobbed. To his surprise, Matt felt his own tears drip out of his single eye and run into the weeping woman's hair. They both pulled away, blushing severely. The two of them, alone in the elevator. The silence spoke volumes.

"Emily...told me what happened..." Chriss whispered. Matt almost jumped,

"She did? And you're still breathing? Much less talking to me?" He smiled despite himself, so did she.

"I had my doubts for a minute...she seemed pretty mad..." They stood there, blushing about two feet apart. Both wanting to be together, yet niether sure of what it would mean.

DING! The doors opened and in swarmed a throng of excited and wet con-goers. Instictively, Matt's arms shot against the wall on either side of Christie, protecting her from the jostling elbows and knees. He looked up, away from her. His mind filled with images of last year, of where he had wanted this to go. Christie blushed and reached up, her fingers gently guiding his face towards hers. His arms moved of their own free will, encircling her, pulling the woman he loved to him as he stepped into her. Their lips met, and Matt's world stopped spinning. Nothing existed but Christie, her arms around his neck, the moistness of his torso as their wet torsos pressed together, the sensation of her mouth against his.

When they parted, the elevator was empty. They both giggled nervously.

"You remember how I said that I'm man enough to admit what I want?" Matt asked.

"Yeah..." Christie remembered, of course she did, vividly even.

"You." He kissed her gently.

"Me what?"

"I want you."

"So did get some tact. And a brain." she mocked, hugging him close.

"Heh. Don't bet on it." He smirked, "What floor is yours?"

"527." She said with a sly grin.

"527 then. Unless you'd prefer 739." Christie blushed and fell over laughing. He pulled her close and whispered softly into her ear,

"739's not occupied." Her laughter and blush increased tenfold.

"I take back what I said about tact."

"Told you." more smirking.

They spent that night in her bed, snuggled warm together with Bethany laughing in the background.

To be continued!!!