ONLY TIME WILL TELL by TB's LMC RATED FRT

A tiny snippet caught running through Tin-Tin's mind.

It was easy to do when no one else was there. Easy to cast sidelong glances, unnoticed and unanswered. Easy for eyes to rove places they shouldn't be looking. Easy to study the brow furrowed in concentration, the lips pursed in thought, the eyes focused on a single, tiny chip buried deep inside an equally tiny microchip. Life was always easy when it was lived in your mind.

Because in your mind anything could and usually did happen. In your mind the two of you were standing just as you are now, but instead of looking up, blinking and appearing not to notice your stare, he would look up, blink and ask, "What are you thinking about?"

And you would say, a little too quickly, "Just trying to figure out what's wrong with the chip."

He would reply with a look that seemed all-knowing. "Y-You don't appear to be thinking about a microchip i-if the blush creeping up your neck i-is any indication."

You would feel it burn as it went clear to your forehead and beyond, hidden by your hair. "You're right," you'd say. "I wasn't thinking about the chip."

And even though in the real world you were never one to say more than two words about what you were really feeling and thinking, here in the world inside your mind you're always able to say what you want because there are never negative repercussions.

"Then, ah, what were you thinking about?"

"You."

And he would smile and nod and turn off the microscope light, lay the tiny instruments on the table and run a hand through his short brown hair. "I-It must be going around."

You would smile in return, knowing what he meant and longing to feel the lips he'd suddenly run his tongue over, lips that were now glistening as brightly as the mischievous look coming from his eyes.

Without a word the two of you would walk up the stairs to the smallish room he used for his bedroom most of the time, regardless of the fact that he had a suite as big as yours up in the villa. You would step in, hands clammy with nervousness as he closed and locked the door behind you. There would be no light. There would be no sound save that of the ticking of his old-fashioned mantle clock.

"Brains?" you would whisper, heart pounding through your chest.

Then you would feel a hand pressing over that heart and before you knew it, his lips would be on yours.

But then the real world comes crashing down around you as the klaxon blares. Somewhere, someone needs the help of International Rescue, and for the moment your frequent daytime…and nighttime…fantasy must be squirreled away. But not before your eyes catch his and he gives you the same small smile you got from him in your mind.

You race for the elevator with him by your side matching you stride for stride. You step in and the door slides shut as he presses the button that will take you to the main floor and deposit you in the hall outside the lounge. He takes one step closer and your arms are touching. He's a little shorter, but not by much.

You look over at him and he looks back. And you wonder if, upon your return from saving the lives of strangers, this relative stranger might not just become more familiar than a shadow in your dreams. Only time will tell, you know as the elevator door swishes open. Only time will tell.