Aom and Mike played several rounds of their heated chase game, darting and ducking about the trees.  Passing too close to him, Aom jerked back and saw Mike's fist clutching his jacket's sleeve that she so fiercely held.  “You're going to rip it!” she yelled.  Realizing that this made him loosen his grip, Aom slid his hand off the sleeve and took off again.   Aom nimbly ducked behind a branch and hopped behind a tree, only to run into Mike's chest.  He yelled out and pounced towards her with wild eyes. She frantically changed directions and fled, but soon felt two strong arms encircle her waist from behind.  Aom squealed and put up a halfhearted struggle, but was so out of breath from yelling and running that Mike quite easily held her fast.  

Compensating for her relentless determination, Mike leaned back, and she felt her feet lift from the ground.  “What are you going to do now?” he teased, carrying her effortlessly, as Aom wiggled her feet and protested that he wasn't playing fair.

In one final attempt to break free, Aom lurched forward, but only succeeded in making them both lose their balance.  Mike half fell, half sat down onto the grass and leaves, still grasping Aom who landed unceremoniously draped over his lap.   Both heaving, Mike tugged the garment from her outstretched hands as she sat up on his right leg and faced him.  

Mike used the tone he usually saved for small children like his beloved niece.  “You're so pleased with yourself, aren't you?”  Undeterred, Aom nodded, proudly noting the color in Mike's cheeks and the light in his eyes.  He looked much more himself after their romp.  

Mike offered her a reluctant smile and sighed, leaning his mouth the top of her head, long enough for her to feel the heat of his rich breath flow through the back of her hair and tickle down her neck.  Sitting up again, Mike tugged carefully at the lock of hair that clung to her face.  Aom felt the him soothingly her forehead several times, gathering and taming her moist hairs.  His face drifted towards hers, looking at her with such serious meaning in his eyes that Aom felt the need to stick her tongue out at him to break the weighted feeling that suddenly caught in .  The effect was brilliant, as Mike burst out laughing and began tickling her sides while she shrieked in delight and annoyance.  

Aom let her thoughts drift back to the uncertainty she had felt earlier.  She saw the amused boy in front of her, the one who didn't fit the restrictive or expected ideas and names others wanted her to put on him.  Why couldn't whatever this undefined close, easy bond they shared be enough? Why wrestle with these questions that other people who didn't understand kept asking them?  Questions they didn't know or even need the responses to...  Why dwell on what was uncertain or could change, complicate, and confuse what they had?  Why make it harder by trying to define and label what was so special and unique that there weren't words or answers for?  After all, Aom mused as she giggled uncontrollably to the delight of her tickler, they already have all the answers they need for the time being.  The future would take care of itself when they got there, for now, she was happy to be just “Aom” with just “Mike” and be who they truly were, together.

Still breathless, she slapped the leather jacket in his lap and proclaimed, “here you go, I got it for you, you’re welcome” as if she had just given him his garment without a fight.  

Mike hid a smile in his palm and muttered a begrudged “thank you” as Aom held out her hand expectantly.  Mike faltered a second and teased, “what, you expect a tip?” Aom blinked at him and then Mike remembered, placing her tunic tie into her palm.  

Giving him a similar “thank you so much” in the same sarcastic tone he had just used, Aom folded her tie in her hand and drew it up to his face.  She then brushed the beads of sweat off his pulsing forehead.  She saw Mike's long eyelashes flutter and he closed his eyes as she wiped his face, affectionately.   When his eyes opened, there was an expression of adoration in them that looked unusually weighted and serious.  Aom felt her heart pound and wondered if it was only from running and laughing so hard moments before.  

Just then, Mike's phone beeped and said something about having to get to a music studio as soon as he could.  There was no time for anything more, so Aom nodded, staggered to her feet, beckoned to him, and led the way back to the parking lot.  With some effort, Mike followed, ducking to avoid the branches her short stature easily missed.   Attempting to recover, Mike mussed up his now damp hair, jerked his head back, and slung his jacket over one shoulder, and strutted past her in slow motion.  She giggled at his antics and elbowed him in the ribs as she walked him to his car.  “Feel better?”  

Mike paused, leaning against his car, a humored realization slowly creeping over his face.  “Mmmm...Yeah.”

Aom tilted her head and gently patted his chiseled arm that was draped over the open car door.  Searching his expectant face, she proclaimed victoriously, “you needed that, didn't you?”

Mike winked at her teasing smile.  “How did you know?”