Scopophilia

By Berry's Ambitions

A/N: I have to give credit for this fic to weapon13WhiteFang, as it was inspired by a scene from her lovely fic Through The Years. The rest of my author's notes are at the bottom as I don't want to spoil the story. XD

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Casper.

At least he knew he didn't plan this.

As long as he didn't plan for this to happen, then no one could slap the voyeurism label on him. Besides, the chances of being caught were slim to none, so it wasn't as if anyone would be able to judge him for it either way. And it wasn't as if Stretch McFadden actually gave a damn about other people's opinions anyway - particularly living people.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been hovering in the doorway like this, watching her. The fleshie was completely oblivious of his presence; he had to thank his ability to turn invisible for that. Stretch really didn't feel like being trapped inside a vacuum cleaner for the rest of the day - he'd discovered she kept one in her bedroom not too long ago (via the most unpleasant means imaginable).

Stretch had also discovered that the little girl living under his roof wasn't quite so little anymore.

Kat Harvey was now eighteen years old and - much as it pained him to admit - a stone cold knock-out. Physically, she was still a tiny thing, no taller than what she'd been since her arrival at Whipstaff five years ago. But now, with those curves in all the right places, Stretch found it difficult to tear his eyes away.

Thank God his brothers weren't around to see him ogling like this. He'd never hear the end of it, and eternity was a long-ass time to be harassed over admiring a fleshie.

Admiring a fleshie? Especially one like the ever-irritating Kat? What the hell was wrong with him?

Every instinct in his undead body screamed at him to leave, now, but that was the thing. He couldn't, not with the knowledge that he and the brat had the manor to themselves and he'd doubtfully get to look at her like this ever again.

Kat was studying herself in the mirror, adorning a red and pink summer dress that reached her mid-thigh. She looked uncomfortable, and Stretch had a feeling that it wasn't just because the dress didn't give her a whole lot of, ah... breathing room.

Kat turned around to scrutinize herself from the back, unintentionally giving him a front-row view of her cleavage in the process. Since when did the Doc's runt have those? he wondered, eyes going very wide. He shouldn't have been looking at her like this. Even ghosts had standards, after all. Stretch was many unsavory things but being a pervert was not among them.

Not normally, anyway...

Kat let out an exasperated sigh. Unlike Stretch, she clearly did not like what she saw. Women. One would think after all his exposure to them over the decades he might understand them, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. If anything thing, Stretch had found them even more confusing after Kat moved in as a young teenager.

And this was coming from a guy who was convinced he knew everything. One who was always so sure of himself.

What was it about this one girl that perplexed him so? How was it possible that the bone-bag - something he could honestly say he hated - managed to intrigue, excite and enrage him all it once?

He'd never been the mushy-gushy type, nor would he ever be. Stretch was supposed to be the tough one, the leader, the one who always kept his head. And he didn't like the idea of Kat being the one to break him - especially since the two of them could barely tolerate sharing the same living space.

But, looking at her now, Stretch found himself reminded of her mother. He could only imagine what Amelia was thinking right now while he practically defiled her only child with his eyeballs. Damning him to Hell, most likely. Stretch couldn't say he blamed her.

Almost against his will, he drifted that little bit closer to Kat. She straightened suddenly, and he froze in his tracks.

There ain't no way she knows I'm here.

Kat's expression gave away nothing as she gently arranged her dark hair over one shoulder. He'd be lying if he said she wasn't beautiful, he realized. If he wasn't attracted to her in some way.

Stretch quickly learned fate wasn't on his side when Kat took a step backwards - right into him. Both let out yelps of surprise, with Kat violently flinching away from him (ghosts were freezing cold, remember?) and Stretch becoming visible in his panic.

For a long moment, Kat just stared at him, mouth agape as the situation began to register. Not one to be easily caught off-guard, Stretch smiled at her tauntingly. "Long time no see, Kitten!"

Her entire face darkened, eyes mile wide and the colour of virgin AstroTurf. "Get out of my room, you asshole!"

Stretch placed a hand to his chest, an expression of false hurt plastered onto his face. "I'm an asshole, eh? Is that any way to treat someone who just dropped by to say hello?" he sneered.

Kat scowled at him. "Right. Like you weren't just acting like a bigger creep than usual," she said in a low voice. "I don't think Dad will be too happy when he finds out you were invading my privacy."

Stretch scoffed. "Invadin' your privacy? Don't flatter yourself. I ain't that bored with my afterlife, fleshie. I wanted to scare ya, and judgin' by the look on your face I'd say I didn't do a half-bad job."

Kat laughed sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest. Call him paranoid, but Stretch thought she might have been blocking his view on purpose - had he been looking, which he wasn't. "Well then," she remarked scathingly, "your methods of scaring have certainly become less... creative. Or did you forget to say 'boo' this time?"

Two could play at this game. If there's one thing that Stretch never tired of, it was a good verbal sparring match. That, and he doesn't like her implications. "I didn't have to." He nodded towards her outfit, much to Kat's obvious chagrin. "Besides, I'll like to see you try tellin' the Doc on me while you're wearing that thing."

Much to his delight, her face turned a brilliant shade of red. "Shut up," Kat growled. "It's for a party."

He snickered, floating so close to the brunette he could actually hear the sound of her breathing - particularly the hitch in it thanks to the distance that was being closed between them. Stretch was fascinated by such a reaction - so much that, rather than coming up with a witty comeback, he rested a hand on her right hipbone.

Kat swallowed hard, little beads of sweat visible on her pale forehead. She didn't look disgusted or uncomfortable, as he would have expected. If anything, Stretch wasn't sure what the bone-bag was feeling.

But she didn't shriek or flinch away from him, which was a miracle in itself.

"Where's everybody else?" Kat asked finally, a slight tremor in her voice.

"Casper's at the library with the Doc," he replied, non-chalant, running his hand up and down her side. Kat shivered. "The boys have taken a little trip to Santa Fe."

"A-and you stayed behind why?" she asked, a hint of snark to her tone. Typical Kat.

Stretch shrugged. "I got bored. You can only go to New Mexico so many times before it starts getting old." He looked at her expectantly.

"What?"

"I'm just waitin' for you to push me off, that's all," he said, not even bothering to hide the smugness he felt. Kat noticed it immediately and narrowed her eyes.

"You make me sick."

"Say that like you mean it, Kitten. Then I might believe ya."

Kat's shoulders rose on her own accord, muscles tensing. Stretch had the right mind to back off then, because he knew the vacuum face when he saw it. Like father like daughter, after all.

But rather than whipping the cleaning utensil out and using it to the ghost's disadvantage, she did something wholly unexpected.

Suddenly Kat's mouth was on his own, soft and warm and alive. A sharp jolt ran through him - holy crap, I'm letting this fleshie kiss me - but it wasn't a bad one. Not by a long shot.

Her arms went around his neck, clearly unbothered by the difference in their temperatures, and Stretch allowed himself to relax and actually enjoy it. No reason not to, he figured.

He applied more pressure to the kiss, feeling Kat's heart pound against her ribcage as their chests pressed together. Pushing his luck, Stretch's hands moved downwards, towards her lower back, before finally caving and giving her rear a good squeeze.

As if being woken from a trance, Kat ripped herself away from him. She was breathing heavily, lips red and swollen.

The girl looked as mortified as he felt.

They stared at each other for a long time; Stretch hovering awkwardly, Kat standing in that skimpy dress of hers.

For once, neither had a snappy remark.

Finally, Stretch sighed, rolling his neck from side to side as if to shake off the uneasiness he was feeling. "If any of 'em ask," he began, "we were playing Scrabble."

Kat nodded numbly, reaching for a random cardigan that was hanging over a chair and slipping it on. Hiding her shame, Stretch supposed. "And you cheated?" she suggested, cracking a faint smile.

"They wouldn't buy it if I didn't," he confirmed, smirking in spite of everything. But before Stretch was fully out of the door, Kat called out to him.

"Oh, and Stretch?"

He glanced over his shoulder, gazing as her with feigned boredom.

"Don't call me Kitten." She glared at him. "Ever."

It wasn't the first time she'd told him this. He doubted it would be the last.

"Yeah, sure thing..." Stretch couldn't help himself, grinning as he turned away. "...Kitty-Kat."

A hairbrush whizzed by his head.

~The End~

A/N: Well, there you have it! An actual Stretch/Kat one-shot as opposed to a little ficlet, which is what I've been writing lately. Stretch is not an easy character to write, let me tell you. I apologize profusely if he or Kat seemed OOC, because I'm still getting the hang of writing them. And this fandom in general, really. My best friend Elena wanted me write a longer piece of this pairing and I hope it lived up to her expectations! ;)

Reviews would be fantastic! I always appreciate feedback for my writing. :) Thank you for reading!