Tim Mitchell felt an awful lot like a guy who could get sick--really sick--really soon. But he was in charge here and there were twenty-five fifth graders tugging on him and asking where they were going next.

"Are you all right?" asked a soothing voice just over his left shoulder.

He turned to see an incredibly hot girl wearing the standard maroon blazer with the science museum logo on her lapel.

"I uh..." He knew he was flushed as he reached to loosen his smile-face tie.

"The Journey Through the Birth Process room does that to a lot of people," she said softly.

"I guess I didn't eat much this morning and it was really hot in there."

She smiled, tilted her head so her sandy hair fell to the side and handed him a crinkly cellophane package of crackers. "It is warm. We like to represent the exact temperature at the time of birth."

"Mr. Mitchell! When do we get to the dinosaurs?"

Tim turned his attention to Josh Connors, who was hopping, pleading and pointing.

"Um..." Tim fumbled in his pocket for his trip itinerary, but his new friend intervened before he'd located it.

She turned to the class and spoke in an authoritative voice. "I'm going to arrange for Miss Hoople to take you to the dinosaurs. She's an expert on the Mesozoic era and she'll be very informative."

A collective cheer sounded as the beautiful girl threw her hair over her shoulder and whispered to a woman standing a few feet away. In just seconds Mrs. Ryder's fifth grade was following the Mesozoic expert up the stairs.

A pit formed in his gut when Tim realized he felt disappointed because now Ms. Museum would smile sweetly, point him to a drinking fountain and be on her way. But she surprised him instead as she walked to his side, directed him to an empty bench near a display case of extinct birds and then lowered herself next to him. "I'm Suzanne Tate. I'm one of the curators here."

Tim took her extended hand and felt an instant zing during the quick shake. "Tim Mitchell. Substitute for Mrs. Ryder's fifth grade."

She laughed then--clear and melodic. "Sub? That wasn't nice of Mrs. Ryder to get sick on fieldtrip day!"

"Or Mrs. Lincoln, Miss Parks and Mr. Hammersmith."

"You were choice number four?"

Tim shrugged. "Maybe more, who knows."

Her eyes were a soft shade of blue. "So, Mr. Mitchell, what do you do on the days when you're not lassoing fifth graders through the Museum of Science?"

"I'm the district's middle school gym teacher and football and baseball coach. But the middle school is closed until Monday to repair a leaky roof."

She raised her delicate brow. "And the gym teacher was the first one they asked when the sub pool dried up?"

Tim leaned in and caught a gentle whiff of lilac. "I was the only one dumb enough to answer the phone this morning at six."

She laughed again and swung her feet ever so slightly. "Ah. Well, the children would've been disappointed to miss this. Teachers tell us it's the highlight of their science unit."

"Glad to be of service."

"You still look a bit pale. Would you like to take a walk over to The Constellations and Zodiac room? It's nice and cool in there."

Tim glanced behind him. "I would, but will the class be okay?"

Suzanne stood up and smoothed an unseen wrinkle on her blazer. "Miss Hoople is extremely long winded," she said, with a smile he felt from his heart to his shaky gut to his crotch.

He managed to stand, and though the nausea had really passed, he allowed her to steady his arm with the gentle grip of her hand. He followed her down a short corridor to a whirling tunnel that must've been representative of the Milky Way. Why the hell hadn't this been on his itinerary?

Instantly a cool puff of breeze hit him.

"Look up," Suzanne whispered, still holding on to his arm.

Tim raised his eyes to the twinkling psuedo-night sky above. "Wow."

"Wow," she repeated as she nudged him along. "This is Aries. It's the first in line of the Zodiac, though many people believe that Aquarius is because it coincides with the beginning of a calendar year. In fact, Aquarius is actually the eleventh sign. Pisces is last."

"I can honestly say I didn't know that."

"What sign are you?" she asked as they walked.

There was something about her hair, her smile, the way her nose wrinkled up when she laughed that made his mind blur. He struggled to remember. "Virgo I think."

"You think?" she asked and his damn heart pounded, making him weak all over again.

"September 14th."

"You're a Virgo all right." She stopped then and turned to him. "Guess what?"

"Hmm."

"I'm a Virgo too."

"You're kidding me."

She shook her head and her silky hair swung. "Uh uh. September 1st. I knew I was passing the Journey Through the Birth Process room at that moment for a reason."

Tim leaned against a railing that separated the curious public from the display. "So that's why you intervened on my pitiful behalf?"

She shrugged and giggled and he really wished to hell she'd stop doing that. They stood quietly for a moment, just looking, and he wondered if she felt it too. Did she feel something that was bigger than anything he could ever remember feeling before? He instinctively looked down at her delicate fingers. A class ring with a jewel of blue, but no diamond or band of plain gold to be found.

She glanced at her watch. "What school are you from?"

"Madison Elementary."

"In Red Brook?"

"Yup."

She palmed her flawless woolen skirt. "That would put you on the one forty-five pick up?"

Feeling a bit less like a Martian now, Tim nodded. "That's what it says on my trusty paper."

"I'll hurry Miss Hoople along then. I wouldn't want you to miss your bus. I do hope you're feeling better now."

"I am, thanks."

She moved to leave. Uncharacteristically, Tim took her arm. "I know this is going to sound really weird, but would you like to go to dinner?"

She didn't say anything. He hadn't felt like such a heel since he'd fumbled the last play that could've won the championship when he was in eleventh grade.

Her pretty head tilted and he let go of her.

"I meant with me?" he said, and she crossed her arms, making him feel like an even bigger jerk than before.

"We don't even know each other, Mr. Mitchell."

"Tim."

"All right, Tim."

"I know that, and believe me, I don't generally go around asking out museum personnel that I've known for a total of four minutes, but I can't help but think that we met for a reason. That I felt sick in here for a reason."

"And that reason was to take me to dinner?"

"I'm not sure."

She looked toward the corridor beyond the display. "I'll go hurry the children along," she said and disappeared through the Milky Way.

Tim was mighty proud that he'd spotted Lawrence Edward's portable CD player and confiscated it as per Mrs. Ryder's rules. He took one final assessment of his class list, double-checked that they'd all boarded and reached for the shining handle of the bus just as he heard his name. Suzanne was making her way toward him.

"I'm glad I caught you," she said, looking flushed herself this time.

"Did I forget something?"

She shook her head. "No, I just wanted you to know that I've thought it about it and I'd like to go to dinner if the offer still stands."

"Excuse me?"

She looked from side to side and then stood on her tiptoes. "I'd like to see you again."

Tim shushed the rowdy ten-year-olds and then stepped to her side. "Are you sure?"

Suzanne stuffed her hands into the pockets of her blazer. "Do you know the number of people who feel sick or faint after leaving the Journey Through the Birth Process display? On average, ten a day. The only other one I've ever assisted was a ninety-year-old woman who couldn't believe she'd lived through all of that seventy years before. I generally let one of the guides take care of it."

Tim's brow furrowed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not sure I understand."

She whispered, "I felt it too. Like it was meant to be. It scared me a little."

"I know," he whispered back and tried to ignore the teasing cackles coming from the bus.

She crossed her arms. "So, does the offer still stand?"

Tim smirked and felt so glad that he'd forgotten to eat breakfast in his hurry to make the eight o'clock bell. "Absolutely," he said with a nod.

"Great, but may I make a suggestion?"

Tim banged the bright yellow panel of the bus when the class began to jump inside so much that the contraption actually started rocking. "I'm up for suggestions."

"The museum closes at six. Why don't you come back and I'll have the cafeteria chef make us something. It's quiet and we can take a bit of time getting to know each other. That is, if you're feeling up to this tonight after feeling sick earlier."

"I'm up to it," Tim said, laughing to himself at the irony of his words.

His dick was up to a full eight inches at the moment and still had one more to go.