make shift Disclaimer: I was listening to Reo Speedwagon's "One Lonely Night" when I wrote this (which is soo sexy!) therefore not responsible for my actions. real Disclaimer:  Yeah I pilfered Ikeda's sub plot and characters (thought I don't think you'll recognize them in this fic).  I even pilfered a smidge of dialogue since this is MY version of that fateful ep in which Andre lets his hormones--I mean heart, do the talking and shocks Oscar to death (not really) got feedback? To angelbaby-- editor extraodinaire thankx for helping me polsh this baby up, hon! "You and your baby had some words to say Till not another word was left to say"   -One Lonely Night   Reo Speedwagon   You Win by Aria (crune@coqui.net) Trust my best friend to pour salt on my wound.  His word echoed in my head:  A rose is a rose.  A rose is a *rose*.  A *rose* is a rose!  I couldn't take it anymore and I shook my head and yelled, "I don't know what you mean!"   In a fit of madness I raised my hand to strike him, but instead, pulled him close and the next thing I knew his lips were against mine, his body pressing against mine. I pushed him away frantically.   "What happened?" I asked, dazed.   "You kissed me," a blushing Andre mumbled.   I sighed and closed my eyes trying to digest that particular bit of information.  "I'm sorry," I said.  I heard Andre's snort of laughter and opened my eyes, "What?"  He smiled and said, "That's not the kind of thing one just apologizes for."   This is my, friend, my best friend, I thought, I will not be embarrassed by this turn of events.  I shrugged, "I don't know what came over me," I forced myself to look at him, but tried not to *see* him.  "Anyway," I continued, "you're wrong."  I walked towards my bed purposely turning my back to him.   I *felt* his gaze.   "About?"   "About the, uh, rose, uh, thing...," I said as I sat down and faced him again.  He looked away and there was an uncomfortable silence.   "I don't want you to go."   "I need to learn what's really out there, the royal guard is too sheltered, I *need* to be on my own."  "Liar," he said softly.   I was shocked at his accusation.   "Andre I--"   "You just want to prove to yourself that you're not a woman," he said sharply.  He stared at me pointedly and I found myself a bit scared of a strange spark in his eyes.  I had never seen it before.   He neared me, his eyes glittering with that unknown spark.  I didn't face him, just looked at the floor.   Andre kneeled and put his hand under my chin, I was instantly wary. He tilted my face so that our eyes were level.  I felt...strange.   "That's what I meant," he said, "a rose will always be a rose, a woman will always be a woman.  It's not something you can change at will, Oscar."  "Change has nothing do with it, I'm not a woman--I'm just not," I said sharply.   His hand was still under my chin, but it moved then to brush and errand strand of hair from my face.  I had once felt like this...dancing...  No.  That was my problem.  That was what I was trying to solve.   I blurted out, "If I was a woman I would have felt something when you did that."   Andre looked at me, his face impassive and I felt myself redden slightly.  I smiled faintly, "I didn't."   "Didn't what?"   "I didn't feel anything."   He moved away and I felt oddly disappointed, but he gently took my palm.  He stared at it and traced lightly with his index finger all the lines on it as if wanting to imprint them in his memory.  His finger lingered on my life line, which was rough and had a gap in the middle.  I remembered the gypsy palm reader's prediction and was glad that I wasn't superstitious.   His eyes met mine when he looked up and he said, "Remember the gypsy?"  I smiled, "Yes, but I don't believe in that."   He smiled back at me softly, and said, "I don't believe either" and went back to tracing my palm.   I grew more uncomfortable with each passing second, but couldn't pull away, if I did he would have just proven his point.  Strangely enough I did not particularly *want* to pull away--it wasn't unpleasant...   The silence engulfed me and I could almost imagine that Andre himself could hear my heartbeat.  I had to say something.   "I don't feel anything," I lied.  Andre gave me another of his blank gazes and I felt the burn of my cheeks betray me.  My entire body felt as if it was on fire.  I felt full of tension like a rope stretched tightly...on the verge of snapping.   I wanted to snap.  What the hell did that mean?!  Andre smiled.  Bastard.  I smiled back, but even I could tell it resembled more a grimace.  "Nothing?" he inquired softly.   I felt like crying.  I felt so...the only word that came to mind was ...*frustrated*.   I bet it was the wrong word.   His lips grazed the center of my palm and I gasped.   Damn!   Andre chuckled and I managed to squeak, "Nothing."   He just stared at me then.  I became nervous and once again the silence threatened to crush me.   "I was right, nothing, whatsoever.  That means, Andre, that you were wrong.  I mean, Andre, how can you assume that you know me better than I know mys--"   My ramblings were cut short when he kissed me.   That did nothing for the tension that was turning into a tight ball of melting steel in my belly.  Which really did *nothing* for my point *at all*  This kiss in particular was nothing like the previous.  After all, before I was more or less out of my senses, in this one I was certainly... present.  Very present indeed, I felt as if my own body was betraying me. I had to end this, but if I pulled away first he would win, if I didn't he'd probably win too, the way things were going.  BUT...   I didn't want to pull away.   Thank God I was sitting down.   A too-short-for-my-liking eternity later, he pulled away.  I was getting ready to make the Mother of All Lies and utter, "nothing", but then realized that he had only pulled away to rail soft kisses along my cheek and jaw.  He was not gone *at all* and gave no indication of stopping...   When he reached my neck my entire body jerked and I pulled away roughly.   I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction, nor see him gloat. I wanted to say in a cold, strong voice, "enough," but what came out was a breathless, "you win."   Nice, Oscar, I chided myself, real nice. End feedback: