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Summary: Get a kiss, leave, and it's over. That's it. That's all it ever was anyway. All it ever would be for him. But maybe, he thought, it could be more.

It didn't take a fool to know that she didn't belong there. For one, she knew it, and that was what made it all the more awkward, and two: the way she sauntered around, punch in hand, blue dress swaying (a much too elegant dress for a high school party, but pretty all the same), with worried eyes that never belonged at a party. Hers were steely and wary, while everyone else's we're half open and delusional with all the alcohol that had, oh, just somehow slipped out of his bag.

Duncan, Duncan, Duncan.

Bad, bad, horrible Duncan.

Yes, he was bad. Bringing alcohol to the party his buddy Geoff had been planning for his girl for weeks, the one he wanted to be perfect, now just wasted, literally and figuratively. How dare he, huh? Well, Duncan could get away with that stuff. How dare anyone else question him and what he did? Duncan was to be respected- how dare anyone look down on him. And if respect was lost, then bones were snapped, and fights were lost, and he was victorious.

In everyone else's eyes, it was better to just go along with what Duncan did. He did know how to have fun, of course, but even when he went too far, it was better to just keep quiet. He'd see his mistake sooner or later, and the mess he made was one that no one wanted to clean up.

So, it was easier to just laugh along with him and follow suit.

How dare anyone think of doing anything else.

As Duncan went to get his fifth beer, no one stopped him. Just go with the flow. Duncan was cool, and being cool with him made you cool too.

At least that's what most people thought. Not her, oh, he knew she hadn't thought that for a second. God, that was what made her so… just not normal to him. Why did she not like him? Why did she refuse to act like everyone else and just like him?

He wasn't the first to realize she didn't belong there. Even being a bit tipsy, he knew that.

He, unlike everyone else, was the first to care.

"I see that you're not enjoying yourself much, Princess." His smirk, his signature, only made her anger increase. This wasn't surprising. He had seen this coming, as he always did. She was what he should hate, but didn't. Maybe it was her looks, but hey! That was good enough for him. If all they had was lust, let it be. It wasn't as if there could be anything else, anyway. A prep and a badass? No, no, don't believe Paula Abdul- opposites do not attract. She would never let him in, anyway.

This was Courtney, after all.

He found it enjoyable, the way she shot back each snide remark with a scowl. Sexy even, with her small dimples and thin lips creased into line. She was so bossy, so demanding, but not a snob. Not yet a total bitch but way far, too far to even comprehend- from being the sweet girl people thought she was at first glance. She could be a bitch- like now. But she could also have her good times, when she would laugh along and just be a friend. Duncan preferred the latter.

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your girlfriend, Duncan?" Eyebrows raised, her question didn't startle him, which pissed her off a bit. No, not a bit, a lot, if she admitted it to herself. He infuriated her, and she just wished for the day that she could piss him off just as much. Startling him was the only way to make him shut up. It was a hard thing to do. So complicated that it only seemed to come once in a life time.

Duncan was good at sports, most especially football. Courtney knew Duncan was good at it: everyone had seen him on the field at the park, playing with his friends, and she had to admit, it was a work of art, the way he could run through quickly on his feet, dodging people left and right. Duncan was just one of those kids who were just way too cool for school spirit though. It was horrible, the way he never applied himself or did anything academic. The worst part was how he was so cocky even though.

She hated the way Duncan talked, the way he walked, with pride that he didn't deserve. What had he done in life to earn any friends, any respect? All the respect, as she knew well, was just fear, and, seeing how she didn't fear him, she guessed she didn't respect him either. Duncan was the type of kid a rich and polite man would spit on. He was also the type to spit something foul right back.

This was Duncan, after all.

So predictable, Duncan, he was. Smash something, kill a small animal, and sleep with another girl. This seemed to be his daily routine.

But he still had that Mohawk, which wasn't very predictable or expected from him. Courtney, for weeks, had just thought he would have it for a bit, and then try something new. Duncan was like that, couldn't stick with anything- or anyone for that matter.

"Girlfriend? I see no girlfriend here." This was her point in case. His ability to stick with a girl for more than hour was nonexistent. He could never commit to something, and all he cared about was the size of a girls boobs. He was horrible.

"You're horrible Duncan, you know that?" She said her thoughts aloud. "You're shameful too." She blew some hair out of her face. With all the closed bodies around them, she was much too close to him than she wanted to be. Well, if she admitted it to herself, she loved the closeness, but that wasn't something to dwell on at the moment. "Hitting on a junior, you sick puppy. I thought you, as a senior, would mature, and not try to get young girls who don't want you." A lie, she knew it was, but god, why in the world would she ever let him know that?

She stuck her tongue out, and of course, Duncan found this to be sexual. How great it would be for her tongue to wrap around and suck his- "Stop thinking nasty thoughts, you ignorant dumb ass." Ahh, the moment is ruined, shattered really, by her high and shrill voice.

But Courtney knew Duncan was thinking it. She knew all Duncan wanted from her was a nice make out, probably just wanted to fuck her, and then kick her to the streets. Yeah. Right. No one kicked Courtney down- she pushed and pulled and tortured until you realized that you would never beat her. No matter what happened, Courtney would be Courtney, the hardest girl to get, the one who wouldn't think about you twice before blackmailing you for her own good.

Oh, but that was what made Duncan want her so bad. Just imagine her in the bed. Aggressive, pushy. He liked that. He loved that. But damn, if she wasn't the most stubborn asshole he'd ever met.

"You know, you'd be so much hotter if you would just shut up." He laughed. Her face was a heated shade of red, and he wasn't surprised when she threw her punch on him. He had seen something like this coming, although his guess had been a push or a slap. Well, sometimes everyone is wrong. "Dammit, Courtney!" He didn't exactly enjoy the feeling of lukewarm red liquid seeping into his shirt, trickling down his stomach.

"Damn you, you man whore! Why don't you shut up?" And now she was upset. An angry Courtney was a whole different subject from an upset Courtney. Sure enough, he saw that her face was red, as were her eyes. The only good thing about Courtney- if she felt like crying, she still wouldn't. She was great at holding in her feelings, and Duncan had caught onto that quickly, the day he met her, when she refuse to flirt with him.

What girl refuses to flirt with Duncan, the Duncan?

"I hate you!" Apparently, this one.

Escaping through the crowd of hot and closed bodies, Courtney ran to the kitchen, leaning over the sink. She was sweaty from the crowd of people closing in on each other. She knew she never should have come here, even though Bridgette had begged. She didn't belong at parties- she just couldn't handle it. God, oh lord, she hated him so much. He infuriated her, and he never let her have peace.

Her stomach growled, and she realized she was hungry. She looked at the extra snacks in the corner of the kitchen counter. She tried to reach for it, stuffing her face in fury.

Just then, Duncan walked in the kitchen. He saw Courtney, and sighed, but smiled. "I'm sorry babe. How about we kiss and makeup?" He stood tall over her, considering how tiny she was. She hated that about him. How he looked down on her. If anything, it should be the other way around. She was successful- he was always in juvie. What sense did it make for him to look down on her?

"You are a sick puppy." She hissed, throwing away the small snack, her hip jutted out with her hand attached to it. Duncan knew this pose- the Courtney pose. It was only second nature for her to do her little 'hand to the hip' pose. She probably didn't even know she was doing it.

Duncan took a few steps closer to her, until they were close enough as they were before. It was nicer though, now that they were alone, not closed in. Not pushed together but still… together. Duncan enjoyed the feeling. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, she did too.

Grinning, he laced his arm around her waist. "Only a love sick puppy, darling, and only love sick for you." Courtney, who tried to remove his hand, was having difficulties, seeing how he would not allow it, using his strength to hold her back while pressing up against her. Her heart instantly sped up, as she could feel his well built chest (when did his shirt get so thin?) closed up against hers.

Damn you hormones. Courtney grunted. "Your girlfriend Duncan. Remember your girlfriend."

There was no getting around her, as Duncan could plainly see. She would hold that against him all night if she had too. Your girlfriend, your girlfriend, your girlfriend, don't forget your girlfriend. Well, Duncan had seen some guy taking his 'girlfriend' up to a room earlier. Why didn't he stop her? Because she's a slut, that's why, and slut's move on, but not as fast as he did. He was just happy that he hadn't had to do anything this time. His last relationship had ended horrible, with her sobbing, him trying to close the door, but her still trying to get in the house. Damn obsessive stalker.

Still, even with this story, Duncan wasn't going to get anywhere with Courtney.

So he decided to play a different game.

"Fine. We'll just hang out as friends then. Friends can hang out, right?" He loosened up on his hold, and, as much as his body told him not too, he backed up a bit. "Come on, you don't wanna be bored this whole time, do you? We'll just have some fun."

Her eyes weren't steely, or wary, not anymore. Just questioning. Duncan hoped that she could believe him. Just hang out with you. Get a kiss, leave, and it's over. That's it. That's all it ever was anyway. All it ever would be for him. But maybe, he thought, it could be more. Looking into her murderously beautiful eyes… "You're definition of fun probably isn't the same as mine." She smiled.

He smiled devilishly, thinking this could be more. "Fun is the international language, babe. Don't worry, you'll catch on quick."

A/N: UGH! Duncan! I miss you like fuggin' crazy!

OK, well, I know this oneshot kind of rambled on… and on… and on some more, but I couldn't help myself. I was engrossed in it. :D That word sounds funny… engrossed. It sounds disgusting!

OK, OK, I'll stop now.

(engrossed)

Thanks for reading!