a/n: bordem, meet Panic! At the Disco.... It's a little different thanwhat I did with Kiss and Control tho... I just shook it up a little.... I hope you like it... Reviews are totally welcome... good or bad...

Unexpected

She told herself she'd get through it. She'd do it for herself. Even if she felt like she was out of place. She didn't belong there. It wasn't her. The place was filled with people of higher status than her and they were sending glares her way all night. She darted a glance towards the ladies room and fought back the urge to find an escape within it. She shook her head. She would get through it.

With a heavy sigh she sat a table and spared a look at the punch table. It was probably spiked. It was probably something she could use. They all stared as she moved through the crowd towards it. She poured herself some and sighed in bliss. It was indeed spiked.

There was the occasional familiar face. Like the man standing by the restrooms. She'd never seen him acting so confident though. Every time she'd met him, he'd been shy and a little reluctant to have anything to do with anyone. Even her. And she'd known him for years. Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps it had all been an act. An act. One he put on when he was around her. She muttered something under her breath and pushed her way towards the ladies room, finally allowing herself a few moments to wallow in self pity.

She wasn't naive. She'd heard the whispers. Saw the stares. Heard the laughs. She wasn't stupid. They didn't want her there. Here her name meant nothing. She probably looked like shit. And she knew it. And... and it was all his fault. He'd invited her. Shyly, of course. Then he'd gone and ignored her. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to leave. She wanted to die. She wanted to cry.

She wanted to be anywhere but there.

Her large glassy brown eyes stared back at her as she looked in the mirror. She blinked back the tears and attempted to stifle the sobs. She wouldn't give in. Not to her foolish impulses. She shook her dark brown tresses out of her eyes and kept telling herself that she was fine. That she did indeed belong here. They couldn’t tell her where she could and couldn't be. She was fine. She would be fine.

But first she needed a smoke.

Conveniently, she'd left her handbag with the doorman, as was required. She silently cursed whoever had thrown this party. They had an awful sense of humor. She almost laughed out loud when she found a pack of cigarettes lying on the table, forgotten. She supposed whoever they belonged to wouldn't mind. She was sure they wouldn't miss one cigarette. Just one.

She moved back to her table to find him sitting there. She supposed he wanted to make small talk. Nothing she was interested in. But nothing she could ignore either.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Immensely," she lied sarcastically.

He eyed her cigarette warily.

"How'd you sneak that past the doorman?"

"I didn't. I found it on a table," she said truthfully.

He nodded absently and just watched her for a few moments.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a few minutes.

She stared at him like he was crazy. She hated this new side to him. She liked him better when he was shy. When he wasn't impulsive and confident. She hated this.

"Not really," she answered, stubbing her cigarette out. "I think I'm going to leave."

"Why don't you stay for a little bit longer? Please? Stay with me," he pleaded.

She seriously thought he'd lost his marbles. No one wanted her. So why was he pulling this? It wasn't like him.

"Who are you and what have you done with the man I once knew?" she whispered more to herself than to him.

"I've just... I've changed. Please. Don't leave," he begged again.

She cast him a confused look. "Why?"

"For you," he confessed. "Please."

"I don't belong here. And this isn't you," she said bluntly. "And I'm leaving now."

"Wait-!"

"No," she murmured, walking away.

He grabbed her arm and she paused. She wasn't going back there.

"If you won't stay, at least let me come with you," he reasoned.

She shook her arm free and slowly nodded. "If you must."

She continued her trek towards the exit and sighed in relief when the cold winter air hit her bare skin. There was a twenty-four hour coffee place just across the street. It would be a good place to talk quietly. So they found a booth and sat down silently before he chose to break the quiet between them.

"You know," he started, "I've been in love with you for a long time."

She simply stared at him with a glazed expression. She didn't understand.

"Why," was all she managed to say.

"I'm drawn to you," he confessed with a slight blush. "You're so different. I like that."

She laughed bitterly. If they were together it would damage his career and his reputation. And she told him so.

"I don't care," was his fierce response. "If they have a problem with my dating you,well they can go to hell for all I care."

"I don't know how to have an actual relationship."

"I can teach you."

"What's your fascination with me?"

"Everything," he said softly, lifting a hand to touch the smoothness of her cheek. "Everything."

"I'm just a prostitute, you realize."

"Not anymore. Now you are mine. Mine to love. Mine to care for," he corrected her.

The tears spilled over her cheeks. After so many years of no one caring, someone was reaching out... Her chest rose and fell swiftly with the force of her sobs. He stood up and went around to sit with her in her side of the booth. He hugged her to his chest, whispering soothing words while rocking her back in forth in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered.

"Why?" He frowned. Surely she wasn't turning him away...

"F-For being so stupid! I should've realized..."

"I'll be fine now, love... Shhh, I'm here."

She hugged him back, her tiny hands fisting in the material of his jacket.

For the first time ever she was happy. She was wanted. She was needed.

She was loved.

Owari