Well, here's chapter two then.  I hope you're enjoying
this so far.  I want to thank Alicia Blade for all her great help
and encouragement as I have been writing this story.  I couldn't
have done it without her.  Thanks, Alicia.  Go read her stuff,
folks!  I promise you won't be disappointed!  She's an excellent
author!  Well, on with the show!

    Rated PG-PG13
email Stormlight@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Out of the Blue"
  by Stormlight
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  CHAPTER TWO
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Serena stiffened at the sound of the familiar, obnoxious
voice behind her.  **Please,** she thought.  **Not him.  Anyone
but him...**  Why did Darien always manage to turn up right when
she least wanted to see him?

        "So is this a new look, or did you just klutz out more
than usual, Meatball Head?" Darien said with a laugh.

        Serena buried her head further into her arms and whimpered
softly.  She was in no condition to start a verbal sparring match
with him at the moment.  "Just go away," she pleaded.

        "Now why would I want to do a thing like that?" he asked
cheerfully.  "So...did you knock over any poor, defenseless old
ladies on your way here?"

        Well, THAT did it!

        Serena slowly raised her head and slid out of the booth,
standing up carefully.  Her injured ankle screamed at the abuse,
and she swayed sharply as a result, but grabbed the back of the
bench in a death grip to keep from falling over again.  She barely
noticed the shock flare in Darien's eyes as he finally got a full
view of her.  "Darien...SHUT UP!" she screamed, her voice hoarse.
"I went through hell today, and I don't need YOU to rub my face
in it!  All you ever do is tease and torment and make my life
miserable, and if you can't act like a normal human just once,
then just...just go step out in front of a speeding truck!  As far
as I'm concerned, the world would be a better place without you!"

        Darien's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped as Serena
screamed at him.  In the time that he'd known her, she had never
YELLED at him before!  At least, not like that; not like she
really...MEANT it.  Had he really upset her that much?  Of course,
now that he could see her fully...her soaked, torn, dirty uniform
and her scraped knee that bled a little, and her hair that hung in
bedraggled clumps around her face...he was uncomfortably aware
that maybe he'd gone too far this time...

        "Chill out, Meatball Head," he replied defensively, not
liking the feelings of guilt her words stirred in him at all.
"I was only teasing!  Ya don't have to blow a gasket!  Jeez!"

        "I can blow anything I darn well please!" she snapped.
She stood rigidly, one hand clenched at her side as the other
one gripped the bench, her fingernails digging into the vinyl
and bending so that they threatened to break.  Without thinking,
Darien reached out to snatch her hand from the bench before those
delicate nails DID break.  Her hands were so pretty, he realized,
long and slender and delicate...it would be a shame to let his
cruel words make her ruin them...

        Serena gasped when he suddenly took her hand, nearly
making her lose her balance, and she snatched it away from him,
glaring resentfully.  He coughed, embarrassed at his odd display.
What had gotten into him?  So she had pretty hands.  So what?
He looked down at her, and she glared back, pushing back a wet
clump of hair from her head.  Neither one of them spoke.  Neither
of them knew what to say.

        And then a savior in an apron arrived.

        "Serena?  What happened?!  You're soaked!"

        The new voice came from a tall, blond haired young man
with kind eyes and a gentle smile.  Serena's face crumpled at the
sound of it, and Darien winced and prepared for the loud wail
that was sure to follow.  What came out instead was a soft whimper,
and that surprised him as much as anything.

        "Oh, Andrew," Serena nearly sobbed, turning to the other
man.  "It was so awful!  I had late detention and then it began
to rain and I didn't have an umbrella and I HATE storms, and then
I slipped and my school bag got soaked and my homework I just
spent two hours doing is RUINED and Mom's gonna have KITTENS when
she sees what I did to my uniform and I'm cold and tired and I
hurt and...and...I just want to go home."

        She took a deep breath, raising a shaking hand to wipe
away another lock of soaked hair.  Andrew and Darien exchanged
worried glances.  This wasn't the Serena they knew.  She had
never sounded so...subdued before.

        "Well, can't you just call home and ask your parents to
pick you up?" Darien asked with a frown.

        She didn't look at him as she shook her head.  "Nobody's
home.  I can't take a bus 'cause I don't have any money."  She
stopped as a giant shudder racked her small frame, and wrapped
her arms around herself.

        "C'mon back to the employee lounge, and you can dry off
a little and get warmed up with some hot chocolate, okay?" Andrew
said gently.  "I'll call your house and see if maybe your parents
are home yet and let them know what happened to you.  My shift
soon ends, and I can give you a ride home.  How does that sound?"

        "Fine, but I don't want any chocolate.  I'm...not very
hungry at the moment."

        Again, Andrew and Darien exchanged glances.  This time of
alarm.  Serena not hungry?  Not wanting any chocolate?  Maybe she
was sick...

        "Here," Darien said, impulsively slipping off his green
jacket and wrapping it around Serena's slender, quivering
shoulders.  "This'll help keep you warm until you get home."

        She stared at him, clearly startled, and somewhat wary.
"Th...thank you," she replied cautiously.  "I...I'll make sure it
gets back to you..."

        "No problem, Meatball Head," he replied cheerfully,
flashing her a quirky grin, trying to make up for his harsh,
unfeeling words earlier.  At the sight of the smile, Serena
appeared even more startled, like a rabbit caught out in the
open.  Something appeared in her eyes briefly before vanishing
again, and she offered a sweet, hesitant smile in return before
Andrew turned her to lead her away, limping, to the back room.

        Darien watched her go, his smile still lingering.  As
much as he hated to admit it...he rather liked the sight of Serena
wrapped up in his jacket, which hung the whole way to her knees.
She looked...cute.  He blinked.  Cute?  Since when had he ever
thought of her as CUTE before? He sighed and shook his head.
"Darien, ol' boy, you're goin' soft."

        Still...he couldn't stop the feeling of worry that nagged
at him as Serena's blond ponytails vanished through the door.

*       *       *       *       *
        "Here," Andrew instructed, leading Serena carefully to a
beat-up old couch in the lounge.  "Raise your foot a little while
I call your house, okay?  What's the number?"

        Serena gave it to him, then added gratefully, "I really
appreciate this, Andrew.  Thanks for being so nice.  I've had a
really bad day."

        He laughed.  "I don't doubt that," he replied.  "I'll just
be a moment."

        Serena leaned back against the couch, resting her injured
foot on a pillow and eyeing it critically.  She was no expert
but...that swelling could not be a good thing.  **Maybe I broke it,**
she thought, then brightened.  **Which means maybe I can get out
of school for awhile!**  Then she wrinkled her nose.  **Of course,
if I have to stay in bed doing nothing all day...I'd rather go to
school!**

        She giggled at the thought of herself actually WANTING to
go to school, attracting Andrew's attention from where he stood in
a small office.  She coughed and smiled at him innocently, and he
gave her an odd look before turning away again.  **Great.  Last
thing I want is for Andrew to think I'm one of those crazy people
who talk to themselves!**  She sighed and draped an arm across the
back of the couch, resting her head on it tiredly.

        Darien's jacket smelled good, she thought sleepily.  It
smelled like...roses.  Sweet, heavenly roses, with a faint,
underlying scent of spicy pine, like a deep, secret forest.  She
buried her face in the sleeve to breathe it in deeper, hardly aware
that she was doing so, or that she was smiling softly.  She had
never been this close to Darien before, she realized, even if it
was only his jacket.  But she...liked it.

        **Whoa!  Earth to Serena!  This is DARIEN'S jacket!
Darien the conceited jerk who lives to torment you!  The guy you
are supposed to hate!**

        She paused for a moment, considering.  **Well...at least
dislike very much,** she amended.  After all, she prided herself
on not HATING anyone, no matter how close to it she might actually
feel on occasion, or how much a certain person (like Darien...)
might deserve it.  Hating was just not in her ability.  Well, she
was too tired to consider whom she may or may not hate at the
moment, so she closed her eyes and let herself drift in and out of
sleep.  Her scraped knee didn't hurt so much anymore.  Even her
foot didn't hurt as badly, although she was pretty sure that that
wasn't a good thing.  She wished now she'd paid more attention in
first aide class.

        Suddenly she felt a warm hand gently pushing away the damp
bangs that had fallen over her eyes, and smiled.  "Did you reach
my mom, Andrew?" she asked, opening one eye a crack.  Then both
eyes flew wide open in surprise, for it wasn't Andrew that knelt
beside her, but a worried-looking Darien.  She frowned in confusion.
He had followed them back?

        **He must want his jacket back,** she thought, feeling
strangely disappointed.  Well, she was hardly surprised.  It was
amazing enough that he had been that nice for THAT amount of time!
She sat up and started to shrug it from her shoulders, but his big
hands took it and wrapped it back around them again.

        "Keep it on," he said quietly.  "It's probably the only
thing that's keeping you from freezing completely."

        She nodded silently, her eyes betraying her confusion.
Why on earth was he suddenly treating her with so much respect?
Like...a real person, rather than some sort of pet peeve?  Not
that she was complaining...It made a nice change from his usual,
obnoxious self.

        Andrew finally appeared again, his eyes worried.  "Nobody
answered the phone, so I guess your mom and brother aren't back
yet," he told her.  "Listen, my shift ends in an hour.  I'll give
you a ride home, if you want to wait back here and recover a
little."  He flashed her a crooked grin, which she returned.  "Do
ya think you'll be okay?"

        "I'll be fine," she replied.  "Maybe an ice pack for my
ankle, though.  It's nice of you to offer me a ride home."

        Darien listened to this exchange and was startled by
feelings of...was that JEALOUSY?  **Don't be ridiculous!** he
scolded himself.  **Andrew has a girl, after all, and besides,
even if he didn't and WAS interested in Serena, why should I
care?**  Still, the fact remained that he just did not like the
way Serena was looking at Andrew, with dreamy, glazed-over eyes.
He gritted his teeth and abruptly stood to pull Andrew aside.
"Listen," he said in a low voice, "you go back to work, 'kay?
I'll take care of Mea...er...Serena."

        Andrew looked surprised.  "Are you sure?" he asked.  "She
needs that scraped knee cleaned up, and she did a number on her
ankle, too.  You don't have to stay."

        "I know I don't HAVE to!  I want to," Darien replied with
a shrug.

        Andrew shot him a searching glance, a small, knowing grin
tugging at his mouth.  "Why the sudden concern, Dar?" he asked slyly.
"Don't tell me you're actually WORRIED about her!"

        Darien coughed uncomfortably.  "Er...well, I know you have
an arcade to run, so I thought I'd just help out a pal, is all,"
he replied a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

        Andrew's grin widened; he wasn't fooled in the least.
"Well, sure, Dar.  Thanks, pal.  Well, back to work for me!  See ya
later, Serena.  Get some rest!" he called.

        Serena's eyes went wide as she watched him leave.
"Hey...wait!  You're not gonna leave me with HIM are you?!" she
wailed, some of her spunk returning.

        "Awww...I'm hurt, Meatball Head.  Don't ya trust me?"
Darien teased, his eyes twinkling.

        "About as far as I can throw you..." she muttered,
slouching back on the couch, crossing her arms over her chest
sulkily as an adorable pout pursed her lips.  Darien chuckled
at her dramatics as he filled a bowl with warm water from the
kitchenette sink and rummaged around for a hand towel.  "What
are you doing?" she asked suspiciously as he approached her
with his prizes.

        He snorted.  "I'm gonna clean up your hurts," he replied.
"Look at your ankle, Meatball Head.  It needs attention.  Lucky
for you I got an A+ in first aide when I was in high school."

        She slapped her hands against the cushions with such
vehemence that he stopped, startled.  "Don't call me that!" she
groused at him sulkily.  "Unless you want me to start calling
YOU conceited jerk!"

        "I'm shaking," he replied with a small grin, setting the
bowl, towel and a first-aide kit on the floor beside her and
pulling up a chair.  "Now give me your foot."

        She pouted a little as he carefully took her injured
leg in hand and rested it on his lap.  She winced and her jaw
clenched, but she had decided that she was going to try her
hardest not to let him know how much it hurt.  It would only
give him something else to tease her about.  So she gritted her
teeth and bit back every whimper and cry as he tended her wounds.
He was surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the blood from her knee
with the wet towel.  And when he sprayed antiseptic on the wound
and blew gently to dry it, something very much like an electric
jolt shot up Serena's leg, the whole way up her spine and into
her chest, setting her heart to pounding.  Her eyes went wide
and she barely managed to catch the sharp gasp that tried to
escape.

        **What in the world was THAT?** she thought, not really
wanting to know.  Her eyes fixed on Darien's dark head as he bent
over his task, his deep blue eyes serious as he placed a Band-Aid
on her knee, and she suddenly wondered if his gleaming black hair
was as soft as it looked.  She blinked, surprised at herself.
What did she care how soft his hair was?  And why did she want to
touch it so badly...?

        Her thoughts were interrupted (thank heaven!) as Darien
grasped her foot and removed her shoe, sending a stab of pain
through her ankle.  She couldn't stop the slight whimper that
escaped her lips, and Darien's eyes shot up to meet hers.
"Sorry," he nearly whispered, his eyes gazing into hers for a
long, confusing moment.  Then he blinked slowly and dragged
his gaze away, turning his attention back to her foot, and she
could suddenly breathe again.

        **This is getting TOO weird,** she thought grumpily.
**First he torments me until I either want to scream or throw
something really heavy at him, and NOW he's acting like Mr.
Wonderful and treating me like a person and making me feel all
these things I never felt before...**  She bit her lip and tried
to ignore the feel of warm hands gently caressing her ankle,
looking for any possible break.  **I reeeeally wish Andrew would
come back here!  I wish I wish I wish...**

        "Well, there are no breaks, Meatba...er...Serena, but you
sprained it pretty badly.  I'll wrap it for you and put some ice on
it to help the swelling go down.  I wouldn't count on school
tomorrow, though."

        "YES!" Serena squealed.  "At least SOMETHING good is
coming from all this trouble!"  Darien laughed as he carefully
wrapped her ankle in a bandage and applied an ice pack to it,
making her squeal.  "It's cold!" she wailed.

        "It's supposed to be," he replied, smirking at her.

        She frowned.  "Thank you, Mr. Science," she groused,
crossing her arms and slouching again.  "Are you done yet?"

        "Yes, I am, and you're welcome," he replied, feeling
slightly annoyed at her lack of appreciation.

        She took a deep breath.  "This goes against everything I
believe in...but...thank you for taking care of my ankle," she
said, half grumbling.  "At least you proved that you aren't a
COMPLETE monster!"

        "Ha, ha," he replied.

*       *       *       *       *
        Andrew finished wiping off the table, his mind barely on
his task.  He was thinking about Serena and Darien; more
specifically, about Darien's sudden change in attitude toward
Serena.  He chuckled to himself as he pictured the look on
Darien's face when he had suggested that maybe Darien liked the
girl more than he was letting on.  He had denied it so vehemently
that Andrew just knew that he had been right.  Now, all he had to
do was to make Darien realize it, as well.

        He paused, frowning slightly.  He was not much of a
matchmaker.  That was more of his girlfriend Rita's specialty.
But maybe he could enlist some help from her.  And there was
always Serena's gang.  He grinned as he thought of them.  Lita,
Raye, and Amy, the Three Musketeers.  Serena made number four,
although usually she was more like the comic relief than a
Musketeer.  Andrew could bet his last dollar that he could get
the girls to help him.  At least Lita would, he was sure.

        "Hey, Andrew," one of the waitresses, named Lucy, called
to him.  "Rick's on the phone.  Says he's sick and can't make it
into work tonight, so we don't have a manager for last shift.
Think you could stay an extra three hours?"

        "Aw, geez.  I told Serena I'd give her a ride home.  She's
had a bad day," Andrew replied, scratching his head.  Then, like a
bolt of lightning, an idea struck him, and a slow, sly smile spread
across his face.  "On second thought," he told Lucy, "tell Rick
that I'll be happy to cover for him."

        She raised an eyebrow.  "What about the kid?" she asked.

        "Don't worry," Andrew replied smugly.  "I've got a pal who I
know would be more than happy to give her a lift home..."