The thunder crashed loudly outside. The wind made a lonely howling noise, and the trees swayed back and forth like dancers in some deranged ballet. The rain dropped splashed against the windowpane. The clouds swirled menacingly. All in all, it was a pretty bad storm.

Sam Guthrie stared moodily out the window. He would never admit it, but he was still frightened by thunderstorms. He hated them.

Then to his surprise he caught sight of something-no someone! - walking around in the storm. (Who would be fool enough to walk around in this kind of weather?) Sam wondered to himself. Hen he caught sight of a soaked blonde head and bright pink. (Tabitha.) He thought, ignoring the chill that passed through him as he thought about her. She was his friend, he reminded himself. Nothing more. It wasn't as though she could ever be interested in him anyway.

Although he was telling himself all of this, he still continued to stare out the window at her. She was apparently enjoying herself, splashing through puddles and turning her face up to the downpour. (She looks like she belongs there…) Sam thought, now openly staring (As wild and as strangely beautiful as the rain.)

He had never thought that the rain was beautiful before. Before, it had been a thing to fear, a nuisance, and even a destroyer. Now he saw the beauty, the elegance that the rain carried. Slowly he took a breath, and rose to his feet.

Each step seemed to carry him farther and farther away from every fear he had had his entire life. Each step carried him closer to his true destiny. And to his true love.

He pushed the door of the old boathouse open. The mansion was gone, destroyed by Mr. Sinister, but the boathouse still stood. He walked across the rain-dampened lawn to the point where he had last seen Tabitha. She stood with her back to him, a wild child in her element.

Before he had always thought of her as a normal mall rat. But she liked the rain. No girl had he ever met liked to be in the rain. Tabitha did. What made her different? Was that what drew him to her, like a moth to a blazing flame?

"Tabitha?" He finally found his voice, after several long minutes of admiring her.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. She whirled around and gazed at him with her deep blue eyes. She didn't have her glasses on. Water droplets clung to her eyelashes, and slipped down her cheeks.

"Sam? What are you doin' out here?" She finally asked him, cocking her head to the side.

"Ah…Ah saw you, and Ah was wonderin' what you were doin' out here." Sam told her, cursing himself for tripping over his own tongue.

"I like the rain." She said simply, still gazing at him.

"Oh?" He asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"I didn't say that." Tabitha said as softly.

"Do you…want me to stay?" Sam asked, still in the almost whisper.

"If, " she stop and bit her lip. "I'd like you, too."

"Ah will then." He said, his voice only gaining a little volume. A loud crash of thunder startled him and he jumped. Tabitha laughed a little.

"I'm not laughing at you." She assured him, at his wounded look. "I just figured you don't like thunderstorms much."

"Ah don't." He told her.

"Then what are you doin' out here?"

He had no answer for her. Why was he out here? Why was here at all, why was he on this team, why had he let himself fall in love with this most unattainable girl? Was she really that unattainable?

Fortunately, another clap of thunder saved him from answering. Again he jumped, but this time she didn't laugh. Slowly she walked to him and took his hands. He was suddenly struck with how tiny she truly was. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.

"What…?" He asked softly, so as to spoil the moment.

"Come on." She whispered, pulling him toward a open field. He followed her, fully aware that she had not yet let go of his hand. They soon reached the center of the field.

"What are we…?" He asked, only to be cut off when she put her hand up to his mouth. Her fingers were soft and gentle. Slowly she looked up at the sky and held both her hands out as though she wanted to catch the rain.

She looked at him and smiled. He then understood that she wanted him to do the same thing. Feeling a little silly, the young man did the same thing that the girl in front of him was doing. The rain caressed his face, almost as soft as Tabitha's hand had been.

He didn't know how long he stood like that, allowing the rain to fall down on his body. He did know that as soon as he lowered his arms to look at Tabitha, that he was completely and totally soaked. She too had lowered her arms and was looking at him.

"Where did you learn to do this?" He asked softly, taking a step closer to her to bridge the gap between them.

"My older sister. I use…" Tabitha faltered but took a deep breath and continued " I use to be afraid of the rain. She took me out into it one day and introduced me to it. She made me stand there for hours just feeling the rain. Marty, that was her name, loved the rain. She could just stand there forever letting it soak in. She taught me to love it too."

"Was?" Sam asked, again stepping closer.

Tabitha nodded. "She died, awhile back."

"Oh, Tabitha." Sam whispered, taken aback.

She just smiled sadly. To Sam's shock he soon realized that the water running down her face was not rain drops, but tears. Sam closed the remaining distance between, and enfolded her into his arms. She cried against him softly, occasionally tightening her hold on the front of his shirt.

"Shh, it's all gonna be all right." Sam whispered, his own voice husky with emotion.

After a few more minutes Tabitha pulled back and wiped her face. "I'm okay now." She said quietly, turning to go.

Sam reached out and grasped her arm. His hand was gentle yet firm. Slowly she turned back to face him. He pulled her gently against him. To his surprise she did not resist, stepping toward him almost eagerly.

"Tabitha…" He whispered, tipping her chin of and slowly dipping his head to meet hers. She rose up on her toes so that she could reach him. Their faces were mere millimeters apart. She bit her lip slightly, and looked at him with doe blue eyes.

Then their lips meet in a slow kiss, as wild and as free as the weather around them. To these two young people there were no more wars, no more battles, no more hate. For a long second the only thing that mattered to them was each other.

Slowly, they broke away from each other. No more words were needed. They both turned and walked toward the bunker. Together.

Love Stories