Author's Note: So Brandon/Callie has shaken me out of my writer's block. This was started before I saw 1.04, so not everything may make sense with what happened in that episode. If everyone likes it well enough, I may make this more than an oneshot - so let me know what you think!

It was too late to consider what she was doing a midnight snack - a 2:16 am snack would be more accurate - but as she tiptoed across the kitchen, she heard someone come up behind her, their footfalls louder than her own. "Who's there?" She spun around as she asked the question; she was always used to being on guard, and this was definitely off her guard.

"Callie, relax, it's just me," Brandon said, easing up against the counter. "I heard someone coming downstairs, and I can't sleep, so I thought -"

"So you thought you would join me and my quest to find something to eat?" She opened the fridge door, and began poking at the different containers inside; the light from inside illuminated her face as she turned to face Brandon.

"Too bad the moms haven't done the grocery shopping yet for the week. You'd be lucky to find string cheese in there."

"Yeah. Looks like it." She poked around a bit more in silence and huffed. "There really is nothing, is there?"

"Told you. There's still a little bread left at the end of the loaf, I think, unless Jesus ate it, if that interests you at all."

"Not really, but thanks." She closed the fridge door and leaned against it. "So, why did you really come down here? I doubt it was because the thought of scaring me half to death with your loud footsteps was that appealing to you, but, hey, you never know."

"I wanted a chance to talk to you - alone, because it never seems like we have the opportunity when everyone else is awake," he said, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "You know, I see things, Callie."

"Yeah, I see things too. It's called having 20/20 vision. A lot of people see things, unless they're blind."

"No, I mean, I see how you look at me. When you don't think anyone else is looking. It's like - you're looking at me, but there's more to it than just that. Almost like you're trying to look inside me. You try and hide it for the moms, but it's there."

She felt her face redden, and she ducked her face down. Even in the darkness of the kitchen, she didn't want to make eye contact; she could make out the outline of his head in the light of the moon from outside, and she could see it turn ever-so-slightly - she thought that he was probably facing her now, or maybe he had been facing her and now he was turning away. She didn't dare make eye contact, because then, she might be compelled to tell him everything. Or at least, confirm what he seemed to already know.

"Callie. Callie."

"Yeah?" It was comforting, she supposed, that he wasn't running away from his proclamation, like she would have probably done if the tables had been turned, and that she was the one telling all this to him. She wasn't good at confrontations, she

"Don't worry about it."

"You're not freaked out by me looking at you?"

"No, because if you'd notice me, you'd see that I do it too." He walked across the small expanse of kitchen that was between them and sidled up next to her. "Talya - she noticed, at least, or else she probably wouldn't have broken up with me. Said it was obvious I wasn't into her anymore, or some shit like that."

She cocked her head. "And so -"

"Isn't it obvious?" He leaned forward and pressed her up against the refrigerator, his knee brushing against her knee as she exhaled sharply at the contact; he brushed his lips against hers, and she opened her mouth to him, and she pulled him closer to her, her arm snaked around his hips.

It wasn't her first kiss.

Far from it, actually, if she's honest. But this was one of the - if not the - first times when she doesn't feel like anything was expected out of her because of it, or that she'll wake up tomorrow with a heady feeling of regret and guilt. Because this - this kiss - was what they had slowly been building toward since the first time they saw each other. Every stolen glance, every passed moment between them, leading up to the here and the now.

And oh, was he a good kisser. If she was going to rank all the boys she'd ever kissed, he'd be at the top of the list. Not even a contest, not considering some of the losers who had walked in and out of her life, but she knew that unlike those losers - Brandon wouldn't be walking out of her life so easily. He was just down the hall from her, after all, and at least for now, at least until - she couldn't bear to think about that indeterminate date in the future, especially not when his lips were doing that little massage thing against hers, and she let out an embarrassing little squeak of contentment.

She never knew that she squeaked. Of all the things - look at the things he did to her! She was always the girl who had to be tough, to survive in the world out there; and now, she was letting down her walls, slowly but surely. And she squeaked. She didn't even know that was physically possible for her to do.

She laughed. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, laugh, and it meant that she was probably smiling against his kiss, and oh, the vibrations of it all felt so pleasing to her. Brandon pulled back from the kiss and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh," he said, "we don't want anyone to hear, remember?"

She'd almost forgotten that they were sneaking around, that this wasn't what the routine should be like. They were up at almost three in the morning, making out in the kitchen; in just a few hours, everyone would be down here eating their toast and eggs like nothing out of place had transpired overnight. She kissed the tip of his finger. "Right, of course," she said. "Because we shouldn't be doing this."

"Even though we are," he said, and she smiled at him. Even if he couldn't see it, she knew that he would know she did; that was what he had said, wasn't it?

She let her face fall into the crook of his neck, and she breathed against his shirt, making muffled noises of agreement as she did so. She could get used to this feeling, she knew that much for sure. Kissing him, breathing in his scent, being around him, this was a feeling that she was enjoying. And if she was enjoying it, she was sure he was too.

"We should probably get back to bed before Mariana realizes that you're missing," Brandon said, finally, but he sounded almost reluctant, almost as if he didn't want her to go. They could just stay frozen in that moment until sunrise. But she knew as well as he did - "and we can't tell the moms, you know that, right?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "Duh, I know." Not like she would have told them even if he wouldn't have said anything, but his question was a dash of cold water to the face, of the reality of their situation.

"Because they'd probably -" And he trailed off, and she could finish the end of that sentence with all of the horrible fates that could arise for them, should they be caught: you knew the situation was dire when the best case scenario was only her and Jude being kicked out of a place that had quickly become their home. "Let's not think about that now."

"Too late," she murmured, as she tentatively pressed a small kiss against the collar of his shirt. He shuddered at the motion and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. "But we really should go - you're right -"

"This wasn't an one-time thing, Callie. I'm not going to kiss you and then never speak to you again."

"That would be extremely hard to explain to the moms, why you stopped talking to me all of a sudden. I don't think spontaneous Callie-induced muteness would be a good explanation -"

"What about muteness induced by kissing you?" he asked, kissing her again, tracing his fingers down the side of her face as he melded his lips with her own one more time. She felt a warming sensation where his fingers traced; each stroke was like a tiny brush of fire against her skin. "Is that good enough for you?" he whispered against her lips.

"Yes," she said, almost more as a hiss than a simple statement. She didn't want to go back to her bed and be alone, not after all this had transpired, but she knew that there would be more questions raised than answered if they weren't in their expected places come morning. She reluctantly stepped out from behind his embrace, but still held onto his hand as she did so.

"I'll go up first," he said, "and you can follow in a couple of minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and as he walked away, she leaned back against the fridge and sighed, pressing her fingers to her lips. That was the last thing she had been expecting to happen tonight, but it wasn't unwelcome in the least.

And she was still hungry, she'd almost forgotten about that, given everything that had transpired since she'd come downstairs. She pried open the loaf of bread and snatched the first slice that rested there, chewing softly as she heard his footsteps move overhead. She'd wait for a few more and then go up.

His words floated in the back of her mind, and she felt a small smile creep to her face as she remembered them: "This wasn't an one-time thing." So would there be more kitchen sneak attacks in the future, or would he continue to come up with new and inventive ways to win her over behind everyone else's backs? It wasn't like it would be very hard, considering he already had a running start on the whole process.

She suddenly couldn't wait for tomorrow - or the days after - to come.