Rated: PG for cursing
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.
Also, ABH is a style of writing I learned about on the Buffy the Vampire listservs. I borrowed the style. I do not know who created the style but it is a second person writing based off of the game Buffy and Willow play dealing with where you would want to be if you were "anywhere but here."
You walk into Ninja Ops. A smirk grows across your face as you trot swiftly and quietly down the stairs. It’s Saturday. The teachers send the students away for meditation, reflection, and their own devices. Then the teachers use the day to relax. You know how he’s relaxing. He never relaxes like the others. You gaze around the main room, newly rebuilt from Lothor’s brutal bashing. Though he’s mentioned very little about what happened in that last attack, Dustin’s let things slip that Cam never would have, about the utter destruction, the possible loss of Sensei, the final battle that almost wiped out the whole team. You remember seeing glimpses of what Ops looked like during the reconstruction this past year, as you gained their trust and earned the right to run errands for the different teachers. They still use Ops as sanctuary, when they want to duck away from the other students. You smile even bigger as you remember the point at which you learned he may not mind your intrusion. This is indeed a test of your theory, and you suppress the giggle that thought evokes at the idea of telling him it you are merely testing a theory. How scientific. How Cameron of you.
You begin to sneak across the floor. You know he’ll be on to your presence soon. But you’re more impressed to see you were right at where he was spending his day. No, Hunter, he and Dustin embrace the track. Tori runs to the beach, whenever Blake’s not in town. For Shane, it’s the skate park, unless he’s feeling the desire to hang with Dustin or Tori. Even Sensei Watanabe takes long, long meditative walks. But Cam, Cam rarely adventures out of Ops in his free time. Occasionally, he indulges in watching Hunter soar on his bike, or sits on the beach and programs on his laptop as Tori shoots the curves. But really, his heart is at his keyboard, his schematics, his technology.
You stop about 10 feet away, frozen in awe at the sight. He’s totally linked in. His gaze is shifting over the screen. His fingers tap never ceasing at the keyboard. A large bottle of Dr. Pepper, a half drained glass with ice, and giant size Reese’s Cups sit to his left, one cup half eaten. He sighs and reaches for his glass. You inhale as he raises the cup to his lips.
Ok… it’s time to take another step. The theory will not be tested if all you can do is gaze like a lovesick hen. You tense your foot and pull it into the air to take the next step. There’s a sharp beep and you find yourself petrified. Your eyes dart back to Cam. He’s set the cup down and is typing furiously. You note the window with the error description disappearing off of the screen in a flash and will your heart to start beating and your lungs to exhale slowly.
“Damn…” he whispers. “I thought I had that.” Is he really talking to himself? If this was Hunter, you think, this would be a ploy to make yourself feel secure that he hasn’t noticed you yet. You learned that on week twenty of training, when after his visit to Dustin’s class, he had invited any students to try and sneak up on him. It was a challenge, wasn’t it? He did say you were the best attempt from that class.
You inch forward, studying the way his hair brushes the collar of his t-shirt. He’s in a t-shirt, one of the old Mellow Yellow t-shirts from the 70’s, the green ones with the white outlined letters of green, red, and yellow spelling out their product name. Isn’t that sacrilege to drink a Pepsi product, while wearing a Coke advertisement? Oh yeah, this is Cam. He’s a conundrum, another reason you’re drawn to him.
You catch your breath. You’re only 5 feet away now. He still seems oblivious. This is unreal. You still your breath but allow some air passage, almost like your stalking a very nervous rabbit and the slightest sigh will send it running. But he’s not passive like a bunny, ready to bolt. No, he’s more like the owl, who seems to be resting, but when startled will either turn to tear your eyes out, or fly away without giving you a second glance offended that you intruded on his business. Yeah. You’ve seen him when he’s been pushed too far by the others.
You can almost feel the warmth off of him. He finishes the debugging, and begins to minimize the debugging screen. He sets the compiler to work and reaches again for his glass. A window pops up announcing no errors. “Good,” he whispers, “just in time. I wondered if I’d finish the program before you had the courage to cross the room.”
He turns and smiles at you. It’s a superior smirk, softened by welcoming eyes. “I’m glad you have given me a chance to take a break. Would you care to take a walk… maybe by the waterfall?”
