Title: No Need For Plates
Author: Angel Eyes
Author's e-mail: liverpool_angel@hotmail.com
Rating: RST/UST
Summary: This is how 4D would have ended if I was to ask! ;)
Spoilers: 4D
Author's note: I do NOT own any character at all, I'm just
using them for night...haha!


"Monica, forget about the plates, will ya...?" He walked into

the kitchen, but stopped when he met her tearful eyes. "What's

wrong?"

She was speachless. He was here. Alive. Talking. She walked up

to him and looked deeply in his eyes.

He stepped closer. "Monica, what's wrong?" A hug. Now. He felt

her warmness, but understood nothing. Nada. Niente.

"I'm good. Good..." She held him hard and felt his worriedness.

"But...But...I don't understand?" He saw the phone she was

holding. "Who called?" He shook his head,

while backing out of the hug. Their eyes met.

"Uhm...well, nobody. It's nothing." She smiled.

He looked at her with curious eyes.

"Plates? Was it?" She turned around and was just about to fetch two

plates, when he grabbed her arm. She turned around and faced him.

"Who eats hotdogs on plates, Monica? Not even you do that."

"It's not hotdogs...it's polish sausages."

He smiled at her and touched her cheek with his right hand. To

draw away her tears. She moved closer and hugged him gently.

"What was it, Monica?"

"Nothing. Don't think about it."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It's...not important."

"Not important?" He looked her in her darkbrown eyes. It was important.

They never lied. Never.

She looked down at the floor. She couldn't tell him. He wouldn't believe

it anyway.

She walked pass him and out in the livingroom.

"Monica?"

She felt him follow. Please don't.

"Don't, John. Don't."

He walked up to her and gave her the hotdog.

"Don't waste good food." He smiled and sat down in her sofa.

Oh... She sat down next to him and just looked at him.

"You're my best friend. D'you know that?" His words echoed in her

head. She knew. Actually.

"Why won't you tell me? I would tell you anything, you know that. Maybe

I can help you, if you need it. Monica...come on...I know you. This

isn't you. You would tell me, even if I didn't believe it."

She looked down. "Erm...John..."

He looked up at her. "Yeah?"

She met his eyes. She didn't know what to say. She drowned in his

eyes. Iceblue eyes. Blue like safe water, although it was not safe.

She couldn't swim in them.

She felt another tear-attack come up and looked down. Don't cry.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Please... Do Not Cry!

She cried.

"Mon..." He moved closer and held her gently. "Oh...Mon..."

"I'm sorry, John."

"Oh, Monica. Don't be. I'm just worried, that's all."

She nodded. "It's just...I never thought I was going to see

you again..."

He thought. "Why not? You just went into the kitchen."

She shook her head. "No...I didn't, John."

"What do you mean?"

"I went to...another world, you can say. Another world of this

world."

He sighed. "What?"

"See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. You won't believe me

anyway."

He looked at her. A fool. A jerk. A bastard. An Idiot. Yeah. A

stupid idiot. That's what he was. She had all right not to tell

him. He moved closer to hug her again. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Monica...I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not."

He met her eyes. Something happened. A sparkle.

She bended forward and met his lips with hers. He moved closer.

Very much closer. She held her arms around his neck and kissed

him more passionatly for every second that passed.

He kissed her down her neck and tried to take off her shirt.

Phone rang.

"Ignore..." He whispered. She smiled at his lips while her hands

tried to take of his shirt.

She thought. Yes, she was going to ignore it. Not only because

of them right now, but because she had got him back. She was

never going to answer that damn phone again. Never.