She's tired, and her feet are sore in her Docs from wearing those stupid little pink flip-flops to the beach last night. Her toes complain with every heavy footstep on the concrete steps up to the top basketball courts.

The guys that pass her by in their tennis shorts all mutter and smirk. The girls are even worse.

Mia ignores them with an embarrassed glance away and hurries, breaking out onto the courts and looking for Lilly. Mia immediately knows she isn't here though, because if she was she'd be taking her frustration out on the hoops or furiously writing the next script for Lilly Tells It Like It Is on the bleachers.

There's no one, just the last few stragglers from a rainy outdoor gym class and–

"Michael?"

He's sitting on the end of the bottom bleacher, dark hair a little scruffy and rained-on, and when he looks up at her calling his name he immediately looks as if he were anywhere but there.

Mia hurries over to him, Docs displacing puddles left, right, and centre, and he runs a hand through his hair as she approaches, pushing the notebook in his hands into his messenger bag.

"Mia."

She stops, smile frozen in place, at her name being said so...not coldly, but close, so close. And it hurts. Badly.

"D-Do you have a minute?" She stammers.

He glances up again, dark eyes framed with dark lashes and, Mia thinks, there's so much darkness to him today. She hates it. He's usually so quick to smile, so ready to make a joke and make her day that much brighter, and then it clicks.

She'd asked him if it had been a date, their scuppered plans for last night, and he'd just shrugged her off lightly, but now...she knows it was a date. He likes her.

Michael doesn't answer her, just flips the flap of his bag closed and makes to move. She's never physically stopped anyone from doing anything before, but she is now. Both hands pressed to his shoulders, she knows she can only hold him down for as long as he wants to be held down.

He tenses at her touch. "Mia–"

"Michael," she practically begs. "Please, listen."

He sits back with a long breath through his nose. She takes it to mean he's agreeing.

Mia pulls back – a little reluctantly considering he's so warm through his blazer and...well, firm – and takes a deep breath, eyes on his.

"I'm sorry," she begins. "I'm sorry I blew you off to go to that stupid party at the beach, and I'm sorry I was too stupid to see that Josh only wanted me to get some attention, and I'm sorry I let him use me like that–"

"You know," Michael interrupts, looking vaguely unimpressed, "you're apologising for the wrong things."

"No, I'm not," Mia stresses. "I'm not, because it was only after the party that I realised who my real friends are and that I would rather be at Doc's fixing up my baby and eating pizza with you than going to all the beach parties with all the coolest guys in all the world."

A smile curls one corner of his mouth. "Pretty speech. Nice to know you don't consider me a cool guy."

She makes an inelegant noise that Clarisse would scold her for. "I consider you to be one of the coolest guys ever! You...you know what I mean about...the-the party and Josh and the stupid kiss."

Michael's eyebrows fly up. "Stupid? Looked like you were really going for it to me."

And then, suddenly, Mia knows there's only one way to convince him that he didn't make a mistake taking a chance on her, because she really, really likes him too.

Before she can even think of backing out of it, she pulls him forward and leans down at the exact same moment to plant the mother of all kisses on his lips.

Being kissed by Josh was like being attacked by a fish, a big fish with big lips that wanted to just completely suck her face off, but kissing Michael? It's...it's like finding that last whole chip at the bottom of the bag, or finding that Mom didn't use all of the hot water getting paint off of her throughout the day.

It's pure relief, like she's been missing this exact thing for far too long, and he's so warm and smells so good, and...he's moaning. Just a little moan. Just a small low sound that travels through her entire body before one of his big hands comes up and holds her face to his.

He kisses her back like he wants to, like he needs to, and not because tons of reporters are telling him to but because he's so wrapped up in her he can't not kiss her. That's what it feels like, like he needs her so much he can't even control himself.

Mia's foot twitches in a 'pop,' but the angle's awkward and silly and so she ignores her foot and turns her full attention back on Michael, who's suddenly pulling her down next to him on the bench and grabbing her face in both his hands.

He's moaning again, and it sounds like this is a relief for him, too.

"Touch me," he mutters against her mouth, fingers soft in her hair.

She blinks up at him, kiss-dazed. "Huh?"

Michael nudges her useless hands on her lap with his knee. "You can hold on to me, too, you know."

And then he's kissing her again, soft and warm, and Mia finds that touching him isn't as daunting as she might've thought before. In fact, his skin is just as nice as his kissing, and his hair is really, really soft, and touching him while he's touching her just feels so good.

They both pull away at the same moment, both breathing hard with heavily-lidded eyes.

Mia's tongue runs free with half-considered words. "I bought you M&Ms. Nothing says sorry like chocolate in a crisp candy shell."

Michael's lips curve into a soft smile. "I thought that kiss did the job pretty well."

"No, that was to tell you I feel the same," she says bravely.

He blinks at her, before his smile widens into something she's never seen before, and it's amazing.

"You're one of a kind," Michael tells her quietly, voice so low, as he kisses her again. "You wanna break out that apology candy?"

Mia releases him and reaches into her backpack, pulling out the bag of M&Ms she'd bought earlier in the hopes of seeing him at Doc's later and sprinkling them on his keyboard to replace the older ones. This is much, much better.

She passes him the bag, he opens it, and they share.

Mia picks a green one and comes to the last thing she needs to say. "What kind of candy would be appropriate to ask someone as their date to a ball, do you think?"

Michael picks a blue. "It's going to take more than chocolate to get me into a tux, Thermopolis."

She kisses him, ignoring the M&M halfway to his mouth.

"You realise you just said yes," Mia tells him, smiling and practically breathless.

He looks a little dazed, but happy. "I'll realise anything you want, if you kiss me like that again."

"That I can do."

Author's note: Just a foray into the movieverse. Re-watched it with some friends, along with Royal Engagement, so expect something on the Nicholas/Mia front soon, too. Thanks for reading!