Yes, yes, I know. It has been a million years (2 years, actually but yes it feels like forever). I lost my files, lost my inspiration, and let this story sit for two years until I found the inspiration to come back and finish what I started. I said I would finish this story and gosh darn it I will fulfill that promise. Only a few more chapters to go, if things keep going on track, and I have it all mostly written now. So no more long waits ;) Just a week or less between updates from now on I swear. Please enjoy this extra long chapter as a thank you for patiently waiting for so long!

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Chapter 6:

The kiss is soft and tender in a way that none of their previous lust-fueled kisses have been. It only lasts a moment or two, but Michael could swear that the whole Earth stops rotating on its axis while Christine's soft pink lips were pressed against his own. He feels himself sigh into her embrace, and his hands instinctively reach up to brush against her cheeks.

It is only when she pulls away that Michael notices the steady stream of tears that flow down Christine's blushed cheeks. He fights the urge to reach up and wipe them away, to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But he was exhausted, mentally and emotionally from the whirlwind of emotions he feels about the girl who had just kissed him in the middle of his kitchen. This girl who he grew up with, played with, laughed with, fought with, kissed, teased, and made love to. This girl who had always been in his life, or at least for as long as he could remember, as a playmate, as a friend, as…more?

Michael looks into Christine's eyes, her deep pools of blue and gray, and is suddenly scared by the raw vulnerability they hold in their depths. She is so close to him in this moment. The ghost of her touch on his skin, the smell of her shampoo, the way his lips tingle slightly from their kiss – All constant reminders of her presence. She is standing right in front of him. But it's the unspoken emotions between them that threaten to push them farther and farther apart like a rubber band being stretched bigger and bigger.

Would the rubber band come flying back together? Or would it snap in two?

Christine's bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as she takes a deep breath to regain her composure. When she speaks, her voice is nothing more than a whisper, but it is sure and strong despite the tears that fall freely down her cheeks.

"I know now that I have ruined everything," Christine takes another deep breath before she continues, "And I have finally realized how much I have ruined".

Michael holds her gaze. Christine's eyes are swirling with such an intensity and vulnerability that he has a hard time breaking eye contact with her. He can't help but feel like Christine is a thousand miles away in this moment, even though she stands right in front of him. She is so close that he can count each of her eyelashes, and see the flecks of silver and gray in her bright blue eyes.

Christine opens her mouth to speak, but her emotions betray her and her voice cracks slightly.

"I was scared, Michael, and I...I ruined everything."

Michael closes his eyes, and listens to the sound of Christine's breathing.

"I haven't slept in ages, this is tearing me apart," she lets out a hard sigh, "I didn't mean for this to happen. This is the last thing that I wanted to happen."

Michael's eyes snap open and he meets Christine's intense gaze once again.

"What, exactly, did you think was going to happen, Christine?"

His voice is gravely and raw and it matches the vulnerability that he sees in Christine's eyes. His hands form fists at his sides as he stares into her eyes, unwilling to break the connection between them.

"I know this was stupid, I know this was all just a big mistake," her voice cracks but Christine wills herself the strength to continue, "I could feel our friendship changing, it has been changing slowly for years now, and I guess I was scared of losing my best friend. You're…you're so important to me, Michael."

I guess I was scared of losing my best friend.

You're so important to me, Michael.

Her words echo in his mind.

Michael thinks back to earlier that evening when he was washing the dishes, and he turned to see the first tear roll down Christine's cheek. She had said his name in such a broken, helpless way. Michael knows he must have looked like hell too, exhausted from too many sleepless nights and the emotional torture that he had put himself through.

But when Christine kissed him just now, it was unlike all of her other kisses. Their usual kisses were fast and lustful, where their lips parted only to gasp in the quickest breath. They moved so fast and frantic when they kissed or had sex together, perhaps as a way of preventing themselves from acknowledging the truth of what they were both actually doing.

But this kiss had been so different. It had been tender and slow, like she was trying to apologize and make him feel better. Like she was trying to tell him things that she didn't know how to say.

Michael wishes he could apologize for his actions. And he hates himself for treating Christine this way. She isn't some slut he can have sex with in secret. He shouldn't be grabbing her ass in Limbo or fucking her every time their parents spend all night away on a case. She doesn't deserve to be treated like that. She isn't some slut. No woman deserves to be treated like this.

She is his best friend. Right?

I guess I was scared of losing my best friend.

Her words resonate again in his mind, and for just a moment they bring a ghost of a smile to his face.

Christine is his best friend. Or, at least, she was.

Now she is…well, something.

You're so important to me, Michael.

Michael doesn't quite know what they are anymore.

All he knows is that his thoughts and feeling are all swirling around inside of him, tangled up and webbed together, and at the center of that web is Christine.

Michael lets out a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding, and reaches up to run a hand through his messy black hair. The stress of it all, the weeks of struggling to find the words to his new and raw emotions, the endless nights of tossing and turning, they suddenly weigh down heavily on his shoulders. He wants to crumble under the pressure, to fall to the floor in defeat, but he knows his relationship with Christine (whatever that may be at the moment) is something that is always worth fighting for. They have said more to each other in the last ten minutes than they have in the last two weeks, and it finally, finally feels like progress is being made to clear the murky waters of their situation.

He opens his mouth but struggles to find the right words. What in the world could he say in this moment to help fix the broken bullshit between himself and Christine? Are there even words for this situation? Probably not, Michael muses with a scowl, because no one else would be stupid enough to stumble into this fucked up situation with their best friend.

He closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh, before he opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes into his mind.

"You like the Food Network."

"What?" Christine's voice betrays how startled she is by his words and her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but Michael continues before she has a chance to open her mouth to speak.

"And HGTV," the softest of smiles touches Michael's features, "I know you pretty well, Christine".

Christine scowls as she speaks, "Knowing what television networks I like to watch doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about me, Michael."

"You watch infomercials when you're sick," he continues, "You prefer to wear cherry chapstick over lipstick, your socks never match, and you've always wanted to learn how to knit even though you worry that people would tease you about it. You have six plants in your room. One aloe vera, two cacti, two orchids, and a lavender plant. You talk to them when you think no one can hear you, urging them to grow up strong and healthy."

She blushes at his words, stunned silent by the collection of random facts he has observed about her over the many years they have shared together.

"You're also probably the only human on the planet who likes Chicago mix popcorn," Michael smirks, "Caramel corn and cheese popcorn in the same container? Totally gross, by the way".

Christine rolls her eyes, her mood lightening ever so slightly as she crosses her arms at the boy standing in front of her.

"You bite your fingernails when you are stressed or worried," as Michael says this, they both break eye contact to glance down at Christine's nails. They are painted a deep rosy pink, and all of the nails on her left hand have been bitten down the quick.

"But you only the nails on your left hand," Michael muses aloud and he reaches out to hold the her left hand in his own, "And I find that just so much more endearing."

"Why are you saying these things?" Christine's voice is barely above a whisper, and she can't quite bring herself to look back up into Michael's eyes.

"I know all of these things because we have shared so much of our lives together, Christine," Michael reaches up with his other hand and tilts Christine's head so she locks eyes with him once more. The tears have stopped flowing down her face, but her eyes still hold the raw vulnerability that he saw before, "You're my best friend, and you will always be my best friend. Growing up isn't going to change that".

Her bottom lip is quivering again, and her eyes pool with tears that threaten to fall. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again when she realizes that she doesn't know what to say to him in this moment. It is only another second before she crashes into him. Her arms coil around his waist, and his wrap around her back. He holds her tightly as she sighs into his shoulder. They stand there, breathing together, for what feels like a year and a day.

"Thank you, Michael," she sighs into his chest, her arms tightening around his torso, "Thank you for being my friend, even after all of this."

Michael leans down to plant a soft kiss on her hairline as they step apart from each other.

She looks exhausted, like she might fall asleep while standing, and he knows he probably doesn't look much better. The nights of tossing and turning are catching up to him, and he suppresses a yawn into the back of his hand. Not even a foot in front of him, Christine gives a soft yawn and reaches up to rub her eye with her hand. Michael can't help but notice that Christine looks so sleepy and adorable as she yawns and rubs her eyes, and he secretly hopes someday that he has the chance to curl himself around Christine while they fall asleep together. But today is not that day, and he needs to take her home before they both fall asleep on the kitchen floor.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like death warmed up," Michael says lightly, a small smile on his face. Christine only nods as she yawns again.

He looks at this girl, Christine, his best friend, the girl that was so scared of losing his friendship, and Michael is suddenly touched by the strength and vulnerability she had shown when she confessed her fears to him. While there is far more that needs to be said between them in order to fix their relationship, Christine had the courage to at least open the conversation between herself and Michael. Words are being said and progress is slowly being made to address the changes in their relationship. After weeks of darting around the issue, or ignoring it all together in favor of sneaking kisses and grabbing ass in Limbo, Michael is proud of the progress that he and Christine achieved tonight. Christine had been so vulnerable and brave. This girl, whom Michael had been so afraid of losing, was just as scared of losing him too. The irony of it all was not lost on Michael, but he was far too tired to laugh at the ways of the world.

"Here, how about I give you a ride home so we both can get some rest?" Michael offers as he reaches past Christine to grab his car keys from the kitchen counter. They jingle slightly in his hand as Christine nods in agreement. He steps aside to let her lead them toward the front door and, while she passes him, she gives him a smile.

Michael can feel the vast amount of words that are being left unsaid between himself and Christine, and he knows that their friendship, or whatever their friendship is becoming, will not survive unless they both share their unsaid thoughts with each other. But that can be saved for another day. Michael can barely understand the emotions that have tangled themselves into his heart, and he knows that he won't be able to truly talk to Christine about his feelings until he sorts them out for himself.