Anyone else remember the part of Lock and Key when Nat is listening to the radio and Annabel is the host? Seeing as Annabel had taken over Anger Management at the end of Just Listen, this would have made sense, had it not been a weekday (Monday if I remember correctly) and somewhere in autumn, while Just Listen ended in winter. No way Owen was still grounded by then, right? So clearly Annabel got her own show, right? And it must be more popular than Owen's, if it's on a weekday morning. Every time I read Lock and Key, I think of how pissed that would make Owen. So…This is my thoughts of how that went over.

Ratings

"God, am I glad that's over," Owen complained for the millionth time as he went over to his stereo and put on some crappy music. Bleh. It wasn't techno though, so I consented and said nothing as I came into his bedroom also, closing the bedroom door behind me.

"I thought it was a beautiful wedding."

"I know you did. You think every wedding is beautiful."

"How would you know?" I took off my jacket and sat it on his bed before sitting down on the floor in front of it, patting the spot next to me. "This was our first wedding together."

"And I hope our last." Owen sighed, sitting down next to me. When he felt my glare though, he added, "I meant last of the summer."

"How'd you get invited anyways?" I asked, undoing my sandals and kicking them off as Owen did the same with his dress shoes. I knew he hated wearing anything other than his boots, so I wasn't shocked at how roughly he was treating the poor shoes.

"Are you kidding? Rolly's sister loves me."

"Really now?" I wiggled my toes, making them shine from the sunlight coming through his slit blinds. "Owen, you haven't even complimented me on my toenails yet. I got them done just for this wedding."

"Are they different?"

"Owen."

"I'm kidding." He reached down, grasping one of my big toes, making me mock shriek. "I love them."

I kicked out of his grasp before sighing. "I hate skirts."

"Then why did you wear one?"

I looked down at my outfit. "It matches this blouse so well."

Owen looked too. "I guess so."

That got him a slight shove before I settled with looking around his bedroom, taking in the various posters that I had become familiar with, though I still knew very few of the bands depicted in them. Sighing a little bit, I leaned against him, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," he mumbled, his phone now out. Frowning, I looked at the screen and found it to be Rolly, as always.

"You know, if you wanted to be with Rolly, you should be with him."

"I'm listening, alright? Just talk, I can hear you."

"Whatever."

"Talk, Annabel." He shifted out from under me, leaving the phone behind also as he went to change the CD.

"You just put that in, like, five seconds ago."

"It's been two minutes, at least."

He still wouldn't look at me, though I just sat there, staring at his back as he stayed on his knees to mess with his stereo. He had on a dark blue dress shirt, per my recommendation, so that it matched my shirt. This actually turned out good, as it was the only dress shirt he owned. Go figure. I couldn't talk him out of the dark jeans, but that was nothing new or interesting.

"Well, it kind of has to do with you too."

"I'm listening."

"I need a ride."

"You have a car, ya know. And you have a better driving history than me."

"I know." He had been in two accidents already, since we got together. This, as Owen assured me, was a record and I should take pride in that. I was finding it hard. "But I figured you'd want to take me and hangout with me while I did it."

"Do what?"

"…Well…you know how I kind of took over Anger Management for you, there for a little while?"

"Kind of hard to forget. You probably killed half my listening base." He smiled back at me, winking. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the bubbling in my stomach. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous, considering all the things Owen and I talked about. I mean, the topics covered pretty much everything except my period, which I never plan to detail for him. "What about it, Bella?"

"It's just...well, I got a call yesterday, from Tony."

"Tony…?"

"From the station."

"About what?" Now I had his interest sparked and Owen turned to face me, clearly confused. Considering how much I loved his confused face, it was hard to keep going, if only because confusing him entertained me so much. "Bell?"

Taking a deep breath, I spoke so quickly that I was shocked he even understood me.

"It's just that ratings were way up, when I was doing Anger Management, and he just thought, since I was so good at it, that I should get my own show."

For a second, it was quiet. Then he spoke. "And it's replacing…my show. If that's what you're saying, you had better-"

"No!" I rolled my eyes, looking off. "God, Owen, do you really think I'd even consider it then?"

He let out a breath, now looking relieved. Quickly, Owen moved back over to me, having decided on a CD. Once he was within distance, he pulled me into his arms, laughing a little bit.

"And you said yes then? To the show?" He nuzzled his chin against the top of my head. "Huh?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Good." He kissed the side of my head. "Good."

When I still didn't speak for a moment, he asked, "That was all, right?"

"Yeah."

"When's your show then? Huh?" Owen let me go so that he could stare at me, smiling the whole time. When he saw that the nervous look hadn't fled my face, he frowned. "What's up with you, Annabel? Why didn't you tell me last night? Or today? You know I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just…"

"Tell me." He kissed my head. "Are you worried about the shitty music you're gonna play? Because I'll listen anyways. Sometimes. I will critique you though if that's what you're afraid of. In a loving way."

"Of course," I mumbled, now having that to look forward to too. "A loving way."

"When's the show?" He continued to study me, trying to figure out my problem. "Are you upset that it's a night show? Or is it really early in the morning? Before mine? After? When?"

"It's…Owen…"

"When?"

"Well, that health show is going off the air in three weeks."

"What health show?"

"The one on Monday and Friday mornings."

He blinked. "What?"

"And it's summer, so I don't have any-"

"You're getting the Monday and Friday slots?" He moved to sit back on his butt and just stare at me. "Two slots? What time in the morning is this damn show on anyways?"

"Owen-"

"What time? Or times or whatever?" He still just stared, his tone no longer happy, but more flat. Not angry, but not thrilled for me either. Indifferent, maybe. "Annabel?"

"Monday is eight to ten-"

"What?"

"-and Friday is noon till three."

"What?" Now he was starting to get upset. I could tell. I thought about joking about him counting to ten, but I wasn't prepared for the consequences.

"And Tony said that if I'm good enough, when school starts, maybe we can work around my school schedule? I'll be a senior so I'll have off periods-"

"For the shit you play? You're getting two slots, two prime fucking slots, for the shit that you play? Are you serious? That's not even mus-"

"Are you yelling at me?" I just stared at him. "Because I actually did good at something?"

"I'm not yelling at you, Annabel."

"Well, you're clearly mad at me."

"No. I'm mad that shit gets better air time than-"

"Well, sorry, Owen, that we're not just all as enlightened as you." I rolled my eyes. "I'm your girlfriend. Be happy for me."

For a second, neither of us spoke, though our eyes were locked in death glares. Then Owen moved closer again.

"I'm happy for you."

"You don't sound it."

"No," he agreed. "I don't. Because I'm…disappointed, in the fact that people enjoyed what you played more than what I did. However, you are my girlfriend and I do love you, and I think it's wonderful that you're going to get two slots. Monday and Friday. That's amazing. Really. And I wish you hadn't been so nervous to tell me, Annabel."

I tilted my head to the side. "Are you gonna blow up now?"

Leaning closer, he kissed my lips gently, but I could still tell that he was tense. "No," he told me slowly. "I'm still pissed though."

"Poor Owen. No one likes his enlightened garbage."

"Hey-"

It was my turn to kiss him. When I pulled back, I asked, "Shouldn't I be rewarded?"

"Rewarded?"

"For being such a good hostess in your absence?"

Owen frowned. "You were a little bit too good, apparently."

"Owen." I shoved him gently. "I liked the music I played. I think I played a very good blend."

"Good blend, yes, of shit."

"You liked some of the songs."

"I know I did. Not the majority though."

"Well, I don't like even half the stuff you play."

"That's because you're not enlightened," he said, poking me in the head. "I'll keep trying though."

I moved away from his finger. "Come on, Owen, we're only alone for a little while. Reward me."

"For making my show look like a joke? For one upping me? No way." He laid down on his back, his head resting in his hands. "Make it up to me."

"Owen-"

"Come on. Pull off that nice, little skirt there and make it up to me."

"You have gotten way too cavalier."

"It's summer, Bella. I'm supposed to have fun." He wagged his eyebrows at me, apparently getting over his meltdown quickly. "Come have fun with me."

Counting my blessings that he wasn't mad about the whole 'My show's better' thing, I slipped off my skirt before moving to straddle his stomach.

"Damn. You were wearing shorts under that thing?"

"I'm not a whore, Owen."

"I know. I could tell by the length of the skirt. Way too long for my taste."

"You have no taste."

"I have the hottest girl to ever walk on the planet as my girlfriend, so I don't think that's a fair judgment."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." I moved to run my hands down his dress shirt. "Mmmm. You looked so cute today."

"Cute?"

"Yeah. What were you expecting? Hot?"

Owen sighed. "Well…"

I slowly began work on unbuttoning his shirt. "How come you never dress up for me?"

"What'd you mean?"

"You never wear nice stuff for me. This is the first time I've ever seen you try."

Owen frowned. "Oh, yeah, because you dress up for me all the time."

"I do. I try very hard to look good for you, thank you very much." I shifted slightly when he moved to run his hands up my sides. "You don't think I look good?"

"I just called you hot, didn't I?"

"Hot is subjective."

He groaned. "I hate when you talk like Clarke. I really do."

"I don't get why you don't like her that much."

"I do like her. I guess." He shifted slightly. "Can't we just focus on us right now?"

"You're the one that brought her up. While she's the topic, however-"

"Bella-"

"I was just gonna talk about your stomach," I defended as I finished with the buttons and moved to push the shirt open.

"My stomach?"

"Yeah." I pressed both my palms into his flat tummy, staring down at him with my best attempt to look sexy. I knew I was failing, but also knew that Owen didn't know any better; I was still his first. I always would be. Everything I tried, he thought was amazing. The same went for him. "Your stomach."

"What about it?" He asked, watching me with a soft smile, apparently forgetting about my radio for the moment.

"Just about how unfortunate it is that I can't have what Clarke has."

"What does Clarke have?"

"You know."

"Know what?"

"Her man has abs."

"Her man? And no, Rolly doesn't." Owen frowned up at me. "Again, man? I'm your man?"

"Did I say that?" I pushed down on his tummy slightly. "And yes he does. She told me so."

"And? Have you seen them with your own eyes?"

"Maybe."

"Whatever. He does not."

"What? You study him?" I asked, still staring down at him.

"Do you?"

"Touché."

Owen stroked my sides for a moment, sighing. "Can we get this going? Mom and Mallory will be home eventually."

"Don't rush me." I ran my hands up his chest. "I'm making this up to you, remember, snoogie?"

Owen groaned, closing his eyes. "Don't call me that. Please."

"I told you, Owen, it's your nickname."

"I tell you one thing in confidence-"

"And have I broken that confidence?" I smiled. "Snoogie?"

"Stop it."

"You're the one who told me that you wanted to have cute nicknames for each other. Snoogie bear is very cute."

"Shut up, Annabel."

"Is my bear angry with me?"

"No, but he's about to if you don't do that thing he likes."

"What thing would that be?" I asked, now genuinely interested.

"That thing you do when we're like this. With your hips."

"What?"

"Here." He moved to grasp my waist, pushing me back, further down on him until I was on his crotch. "That thing. That grinding thing."

"That?" I shifted my hips slightly on him, making Owen lay his head back down. "You like that? I mean, of course you do, but that much?"

"God yes." He moved his hands behind his head again. "Just do that for awhile and I'll be quiet, let you do whatever you want."

I was going to say something to that, probably about him never being quiet, but had to stand as the song changed to techno.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching me without moving as I went over to his stereo. "I like that CD. Just change the song, not the CD."

"No. You had two chances to pick suitable music. You failed. You're a failure, Owen. That's why I'm gonna be a two slot DJ and you're just gonna be a loser-"

"Got you!"

I let out a small shriek for his benefit. I mean, God, as if I didn't hear him get up and come up behind me. I played along, though, as Owen wrapped me into his arms, his hands working on getting my blouse off.

"Lay back down," I told him after struggling a little bit. "I'm changing the CD either way."

"Lay down with me." He kissed my neck. "On the floor. Like dogs."

"Ew." I put in an acoustic mix before wrestling out of his hold. Still, I did as asked and sat back down on the floor, Owen quickly finding his way in front of me, on his knees again, staring down at me.

"So what were you saying, Bell?" He asked as his shirt ended up on the floor. "Something about me being a loser?"

"Me? Call you a loser? Never." I finished the job he started with my own shirt before smiling at him. "Compliment my toes again."

"You have beautiful toes." He looked down at them. "Now what?"

I just giggled, falling onto my back. "I would do that thing you like, but I don't feel like it anymore, bear."

"Stop calling me that, Bella."

"Don't get grumpy again, snoogie."

Saying that seemed to remind him that he was supposed to be upset with me, or the situation as he put it, instead of flirty. Still, Owen moved to lay over me, sighing.

"I love that you got those times slots, Bell."

"I know." I smiled as he kissed the side of my head. "But I get how you could be frustrated too."

"No, you really don't. I work really hard on my radio show. It's one of the few things I really care about."

That was one of the most important things to him, I knew that. It was probably even more important than me, though I had never tested him on it, for fear of the answer. It was easier to just assume that he cared for it more than to know for certain.

"I know." I leaned up, kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing to be sorry about, Annabel. I'm serious." I got kissed this time, on the lips. "You did well. Very well. You reached an audience that I wasn't able to. Even if it's shitty pop music for the most part with random rock and rap thrown in. You got people to listen. I'm proud of you. Very proud."

Turning my head to the side because looking at him just made me feel bad for him, I said, "You sound like my father."

"I am though. Proud, I mean. I'll help you with it as much as I can. Even with contempt in my heart, I will look passed my normal filter for good and bad music, but only because I love you so much." Again with the kisses. Then he moved to unzip his pants. "Now come on; I was serious about the not having all day thing."

Rolling my eyes, I moved to help him pull his jeans down. "I don't want to be like this though."

"Like what?" He asked after he kicked them off. "On the floor?"

"No. Like this." I moved to push up on his shoulders, trying to get him to move off me. "Lay on your back. Like before."

"Oh. Cool. Do that thing I like some more."

That one earned an even heavier eye roll as I undid my bra. I could still remember how self-conscious I was the first few times with Owen, even about something as simple as my boobs. Now it seemed silly. Still, Owen was patient as always and worked through everything that Will Cash had destroyed.

"You're such an idiot," I mumbled as I moved to be over him again. "But you're my idiot."

Owen fell silent as I worked my hips over his, mixing up the amount of pressure to entice him more. Seeing as Owen was still just a horny teenaged boy, it didn't take a lot.

"You need to get…mmm…Bella…"

"Here." I had to lift off him slightly as I reached for the dresser behind his head, opening the bottom drawer to retrieve a condom before setting it next to his head and going back to messing with my hips.

"Okay. Enough," Owen said, pulling himself into a sitting position, his hand still resting at my waist. Slowly though, he ran them up my body to my breasts, which he hardly ever showed any interested in unless we were making out. I was never sure if it was just that he didn't like my boobs or boobs in general, but I hadn't managed a way to figure that out. I knew Mr. Honesty would have to tell me if I asked point blank, but, again, I thought it was best to live in questions than the harsh truth. "Shorts off. Now."

This was easier said than done as I had to stand up to accomplish, though getting out of Owen's grip was the hardest battle. While I was standing there above him, holding his rapt attention, I went ahead and pulled my underwear off too, which about set Owen off.

"Mmmm. Come here." He moved to lay on his side, motioning for me to do the same. Once I did though, I was brought in for another kiss, though this one was never ending, but very endearing. I had to be the one to pull back, though Owen just stared at me then, his mouth still slightly open, watching.

"Lay back again," I mumbled, trying to push him back over. You'd think this would be extremely awkward, being naked and all, but in reality, being naked with Owen's kind of boring. In a good way though…if boring can be good… "Owen, do it."

He just held my hands to his chest, staring at me. "God, you're hot."

"I told you, hot is subjective."

With another groan, Owen fell on his back, eyes shut. "I told you to stop talking about her."

"You're just mad because she called you out on what a douche you are sometimes." I quickly reclaimed my spot atop him, welcoming the feeling of my skin over his boxers, the bulge in them now resting under my best parts.

"I said to stop talking about her. God, do you to have to do everything the same way? You guys never even talk in school, ever, yet when Rolly wants us to all go out together, suddenly you're best friends, with the only goal in mind being insult Owen."

I stared down at him. "You wanna do something she's never done?"

He just grunted.

"Bet you she's never had sex on the floor." Owen peeked his eyes open at that. "What? We were doing it anyways. It's not like we were going to miraculously end up on the bed, you know."

"How do you know if she's had sex on the floor before or not?"

"I don't. I just figured you would."

"What?"

"Yeah," I mumbled as I reached over to grab the condom. "You and Rolly probably talk about it, right? What they do?"

"Um, try no." He made me lift up some so that he could get his boxers off. "Why? Do you guys talk about-"

"Ew. No." I stared at is erection for a moment before looking back up at him. "I just figured that's what guys did."

"Nice. Generalize me."

I sighed. "Fine. At the very least, we know that she's never had sex on your bedroom floor. How do you like that?"

"Why, Bella, how exactly do you know that?"

I let that be the last thing said as we finally got started. Owen liked me better that way while having sex; seen, but not heard. There were times when, in the beginning, he would ask me if I was okay, or if he needed to stop or something, but now, he just liked me to lay there. Well, usually. In situations like this, where I'm on him, he's kind of the odd man out. Still, I try to make as little noise as possible, as not to disturb him. Trust me, no noise is no problem. Try having sex with him. You'll see.

"God, Bell," he mumbled at one point, watching my hips as they slowly joined back with his. He liked everything slow, or so I had learned. Rarely was I the one in control of anything, but even when I was squatted over him like now, trying to stay balanced, I did what he wanted. This was his thing, after all. I could have gone the rest of my life without it.

I just smiled a little bit, switching from my left hand to my right hand, which was now behind me, keeping me from falling over. Owen didn't like this and moved to sit up some, making me lean into him instead of behind. Then, always the control freak, he grasped my hips, setting me to his own pace.

I just kissed his shoulder gently as I felt something build inside of me, albeit slowly. Owen stroked my hips gently with his thumb, probably remembering the first time we had had sex. He had grasped my hips so tightly that he left bruises. I hadn't wanted to tell him, but as always, he found out. He spent the next week, basically, making it up to me, apologizing and promising his undying love to me. You know, a usual, overly emotional week with Mr. Honesty and Anger.

"I love you," he mumbled as I ran a hand through his hair. He had been growing it out recently, but I kind of liked it. Mallory told him that it just made him look angsty, but I thought it made him seem more mature. "You hear me?"

I knew better than to respond. I don't know what his obsession is with me being silent, but I didn't mind it much. He listens to me talk constantly; it's probably nice to get some quiet sometimes.

It didn't last long, of course. Like I said, he's still just a horny teenaged boy. And when it was over, Owen just moved to lie on his back again, pulling me down with him. I moved off him slightly, resting his knee in between my legs, sighing.

"Mmmm." He ran a hand down my back, staring up at the ceiling. "Acoustics, Bella?"

"Just noticing?"

"Was kind of busy before." He rubbed his knee gently into me before sighing. "You know, taking care of you."

"Taking care of me? I thought it was the other way around. Wasn't I making it up to you?"

"Oh yeah. For your shit music."

"Owen, stop saying that."

"Music?"

"Shit."

"Right. Your shit music."

I just rolled my eyes as his cell rang from his jeans pocket. "I've got it."

Owen shifted some as I moved away from him to grab the phone. I quickly moved back to him, as it was kind of cold down there on the floor.

"It's Rolly. A text. He wants to know if we're gonna go out with him and Clarke tonight."

"Do we have plans?"

"Besides this?" I kissed his chest, smiling up at him.

"This is nice, but we can't lay here much longer. Mom'll be home from the shop soon, with Mallory." He yawned a little bit. "You wanna go?"

I gave him a look. "What do you think?"

"Please, Bell? I don't wanna get roped into watching reality TV with you and Mallory tonight. It's summer. We should be having fun." Owen leaned down some, kissing my head. "Besides, we skipped the reception, so I didn't get any food. Tell Rolly that as soon as he's done at the reception and all that we'll meet him for dinner. I mean, if you don't mind."

"Fine," I consented, responding to the text. "Mmm. Let me use your bathroom to get ready."

"In a second," he mumbled, pulling my head up to rest on his chest. "Just lay here for a second, huh?"

I sat his phone down before closing my eyes again, yawning slightly. "Story of My Life's ratings are gonna slaughter Anger Management."

"It's local radio, Annabel."

"And? My local ratings will still kick yours ass."

"Okay, now you're getting on my nerves."

"Sorry, snoogie." I kissed his chest, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "It's cold down here. Can't we get up, in the bed?"

"We get up, we have to get dressed."

"No fun."

"It's the rules." He stroked my head. "So…Tony really did call you?"

"God, Owen. Yes, okay?"

"Hn. He doesn't have good taste anyways."

I just rolled my eyes before shutting them again.

That was just a nice, little one-shot. I plan to write more for the Just Listen section, but I dunno. Maybe.