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Four Letter Word
Fandom: General Hospital
Pairing: Spinelli/Maxie


Omg I can’t think of anything for this stupid prompt. And I can totally call it stupid because I picked it. Darn it! So whatever, here’s some babble that I typed during lunch, which is not quite an hour but close enough so who cares? Veeerry short.
___________________________________

She’s been spending too much time with him and now, maybe, she’s getting attached. That thing, that four letter word that she wanted nothing to do with and only ever ended with pain and hurt and an aching heart. That thing she’d wanted so badly to avoid that she really hadn’t even thought about it, but then it overcame her suddenly anyway. Because of him.

There’s this cause and effect when he’s around her. His touch and her breathe and the way he stutters to the way she smiles. Try as she might, and she does, control is just beyond the reach of her fingers. She thinks today. I’ll stop today. But then she enters Kelly’s and he smiles at her in that Jackal way and she knows that no, today won’t be that day.

Subtly it seems, in a way she doesn’t think he even realizes, he encloses himself around her. In her dreams he whispers things like let me love you and his mouth against her mouth is perfect. And his heart beats the same as her own, like maybe it belongs to her too. His fingers on her skin and his breathe against her neck and his knee touching her thigh---she wakes up angry. Maxie Jones, she thinks bitterly, the girl who will always and forever want the things she can’t have.

She really, really doesn’t want this. Not now, and definitely not with him. But she finds herself caught up in wishful thinking, her usual kind. She doesn’t want to indulge herself like that, set herself up, but she’s such a sucker for self-destruction that she does anyway.

He bends his lanky form over his little technological world and says a million and one things she doesn’t understand. How unattractive, unfashionable is his messy hair and messy clothes and gosh, he even makes the table look messy. She thinks about combing her fingers through it, straighten out his shirt the way she would have done if he was any other guy in the universe. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Um..M-Most Snarky One?”

Maxie blinked, focusing on the face staring at her intently. “Oh. Did you say something?”

“The Jackal was just relaying some information…but you--” he carefully closed his laptop. “—the Wounded Blonde One seems preoccupied…perhaps you would like to share?”

“Why are you so interested?” she shot back automatically, a little harshly, but he didn’t seem affected. Oblivious guys like Spinelli, they just don’t know how to take an out when they’re offered one. “No,” she continued mockingly, “ actually, the Wounded Blonde One wouldn’t.” And she sighed when he grew slightly sullen. “It’s not important.”

He fidgeted. “W-With all due respect, the Jackal has noticed your…distraction for a while now.”

“Well, I have a lot to think about.” She defended.

“Ah. Yes, you do.” He admitted, and that was the end of their conversation.

Good job Maxie, she told herself, feeling not quite as satisfied as she wasn’t. Keep him away, far away. They had to spend time together if they wanted to solve this case, but that didn’t mean she’d have to let him any closer than he’d gotten already. She’d keep the last bits of her heart that she still had to herself. Where it would be safe, and he would be safe from it.

That night, at home, she trudged up the stairs with nothing more to look forward to than a restless night and not much else. Pulling at her clothes, she froze, sleeve near her mouth. Oh god, she thought, sniffing it. It smells like barbeque chips.

And that night, she dreamt of less sensual things than usual. Of him and her, them, together, as they were now, yet so much more. Less sensual, but still yearnful and a rueful reminder of all the things a heart like Maxie’s longed for, but no longer dared to reach.

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October 2009

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