Disclaimer: I do not own 10 Things I hate About You and make no profit from this work of fiction. I really miss this show.

I posted this a long time ago…on livejournal? Maybe? I wrote this after the pilot.

The scary thing about their whole (relationship/dating/existing in the same space) was that the more time she spent around him, the more she liked him. Every day was something new. Usually the more time you spent with someone the more you learned to dislike them.

He was the only exception.

Monday

"You like Mondays?"

"If I get to see your smiling face, why not?" Patrick smirked, grabbing her books out of her locker and putting them underneath his arm. If he honestly believed he would be carrying her books , the Cro-Mag had something else coming. "You rarely smile though, so I keep hoping- it's like looking for Nessie or Unicorns."

"They do exist." She stage-whispers grabbing her books (and his) from him. The stupid teenage girl smile had been stuck on her face all weekend, damn him. And he knew she had been smiling because he was the one mocking her the whole time they walked through Wal-Mart. Even when she was dropping off the pamphlets for low-income health insurance! If she kept smiling like that her face would probably be stuck in the horrible prom queen position for the rest of her life. Which would suck. A lot.

He let her carry his books (the feminist in her would not have it any other way) and though she normally loathes and detests the prospect of having a boyfriend, Patrick Verona, so far anyway, is not that bad. If he even is her boyfriend- well quantifiably a boyfriend is a boy that you go on dates with, talk to all the time and make out with. And she did do all of those things with him, but he may not be into labels (she sure as hell wasn't) but how did you ask the guy you might be dating back to your house to makeout before your Dad got home?

All of this thinking was refreshing compared to a normal day at Padua. Even if it was about Patrick. The drones were oddly silent, except for a few fist pumps followed by "save the naked mole rats". She wasn't going to complain about that because maybe one of the morons would actually google "naked mole rats" and become enlightened. There must be some hope for mankind, afterall.

"You're awfully quiet over there." She pointed out, nudging him in the shoulder- which is more like his elbow because he is freakishly tall.

"You're thinking about something. You'll tell me if you want to tell me." He could be very smart when he wanted to be. Which was a strange mix of intriguing and endearing and made her heart do the swoony thing. They stopped outside of the classroom- he looking at her. Her looking at him-

"Well I was-"

"And you're officially in our way." Some jocks (plus Chastity) pushed their way past the two of them (which defied the laws of physics because they were only a few inches apart and the jocks were the big ones who did all the smashing on the football field).

Patrick's eyes narrowed at them, and she narrowed her eyes at him. She could practically see his eye twitching, and if Patrick was stupid enough to punch them- well she was smart enough to stop him. She tugged on the bottom of his leather jacket to get his attention and then mentally cursed her anti-feministic intent as she kissed him on the cheek to distract him.

"Cool it, Chachi. I was going to ask if you wanted to-"

"Yes."

"You don't even know what I was going to ask! What if I wanted to go jump off a bridge?"

His face stays the same, "Yes."

The teacher barks at them to get inside the classroom, but all she can think about is how he's holding her hand.

Tuesday

"I don't know what do you and the Skankettes usually do."

"I light some candles, crank up the Filthy Souls and bang them." His face was so straight she almost believed him. Until he cracked. "They stalk me. It's not a reciprocal process."

"I'm still here!" Bianca pointed out, making her presence known from the back of the car. She had promised to stay silent because Dad was letting her date that- especially stupid drone, whatever his name was- because she was technically dating Patrick. So the deal was she shut up so she could keep dating. "You two could see a movie or go get a pizza or- it doesn't matter as long as I am home in time for 16 and Pregnant, the one show on MTV Daddy lets me watch. I might see a commercial for the VMAs or The Hills!"

Kat rolled her eyes at Bianca through the rear-view mirror, "They get drunk, have a catfight and then bitch about each other's wardrobes."

"But it's the who bitching about whom the other girls are talking about tomorrow at Cheerleading Practice that matters. And since I can't watch the show, I need to use my teenage sleuthing skills to figure out what's up during the tiny minute long commercials!"

Kat had to give her props for that one, getting around Dad's rules must be so difficult for her nice cushy life where she has water and a roof over her head-Bianca leant forward between the front seats and picked a penny out of her coin tray. She flipped it in the air before catching it, and covering it up. "Patrick call it."

"Heads." He, for some reason is highly amused.

"Tails! Kat picks the meal and pays because she's down with woman power and all that jazz, and Patrick gets to pick what you do. No whining. And makeout for at least fifteen minutes at the end of the evening. There I MADE a date for you. NOW DRIVE!"

Kat puts the car in drive and Patrick puts in some tape he had in his bag from this undiscovered band from London. Dropping the brat off, Bianca waves and tells her to behave before dashing inside the house. He respects the deal, and she drives back towards town listening to British guys sing. And maybe she blasts the music and checks her hair in the mirror while he's not looking, so what? They end up going to her favorite Chinese place and if she didn't like him already- him not looking at the menu and ordering the same thing she did- would have impressed her. And his mad chopstick skills.

"We're very similar." She points out, motioning towards her similar chopstick skills. She had ceramic ones in her car because bamboo is what pandas eat and it just gets thrown away anyway- he presses a chopstick to her lips and goes back to eating. She was going to detail the plight of the panda and the ones who were currently in zoos…

Point taken, she shuts up and eats the rest of her rice.

Rolling her eyes at him, she poked the piece of imitation crab from his plate and popped it into her mouth. She wasn't sure where he was going with this, but imitation crab was too good to resist.

"I know that you hate monotony, so I can list a few other things. Or I can show you." She watches his eyes go from a warm brown to practically black, and the innuendo is not lost on her.

"Maybe some other time."

His eyes go darker. Because that wasn't a no. And he is a smart very teenage boy.

She pays for the meal and the he drives her past the makeout point, past the bowling alley and parks her car in the car shop at school. Patrick leaves to turn on the lights and when he returns he has a set of overalls and a wrench.

"Bio-diesels air filters clog up sometimes. That's why you're car smells like Burger King."

Throwing her bracelets on the ground, she pulled her hair back behind her head in a messy bun. The shop is a little creepy after hours (she knows from experience) but Patrick seemed very at ease. Her car did smell pretty weird, and if he was willing to show her how to- he interrupted her thoughts by pressing her against the hood of her car and pressing his lips to her mouth. The position is about awkward, his knee against the bumper and she's bent backwards at a weird angle, but he is much too good at kissing for his own good. He kissed her breathless and somehow her fingers were in his hair and he seemed to like that because-

Patrick is a gentleman, surprisingly, and he presses one last kiss to her temple before removing his leather jacket and placing it on top of the car in the neighboring stall.

He strips down to his tanktop, and she puts his overalls on while they both slide underneath her car and change the air filter.

After they're done with the filter, they make out for 15 minutes (per Biana's instructions) and she drives home in a happy state of bliss. She did not shriek or draw little hearts around his name, but the feeling was still there. After she realizes her own personal throwback to cheesy teen movies, she sits in her driveway worrying about all the ways this could go terribly, terribly, wrong.

Wednesday

"Oh, I love Lima Beans, Mr. Stratford."

Since her crisis yesterday in the driveway, where she sat for a good twenty minutes panicking (thus missing her curfew) her father mandated that Patrick come over for dinner. Even if she was alone in the driveway, not "baby making" in the back of her car. During said dinner he promised to stay cool if Patrick could instantly talk at a higher octave. And they were not allowed to be anywhere in the house alone.

They were having the most awkward dinner in the history of family dinners. Bianca was just watching the whole thing, like they were wild animals at safari. She was enjoying this a little too much. Her father just kept glaring at Patrick between bites of salad. Patrick was his normal- charming self, going out of his way to- schmooze her father. He was even pretending to like Lima Beans, his plate full of the disgusting little green things. Watching his fork in shock, Patrick proceeded to shovel the beans into his mouth. And swallowed.

"Is he a Cylon?" Bianca whispered motioning her fork towards Patrick's plate.

"I'm not sure." She replied, taking another bite of her tofurkey. They made the normal small talk, motorcycle death statistics, teen pregnancy and she even splurged and ate ice cream with dinner. Ben and Jerry didn't use growth hormones on their cows at least. And if they did she was going to storm down to the- dairy- and give them a piece of her mind.

"Kat and I are going to go work on our English Homework."

"You and Kat aren't in that-that- that group of people who does homework right after dinner." A quick kick to Bianca's shin shut her up. Her father didn't need to know that they were in different English classes.

Patrick cleared the table before grabbing her hand and dashing the two of them up to her room.

"-That door better be open when I get up there!"

"YES DAD."

She half-expects him to kiss her, but he respectfully closes the door half-way before digging through his bag. The dinner was finally over and she could relax. Or at least attempt to- her father would probably whip open the door in full riot gear any second. Kat flops on top of her bed and almost thinks about studying for her history test next week, but Patrick's got a pair of headphones over her head, and a few clicks later they're listening to- it's in German? Swedish? Music. She can't understand what they're saying, but the chord progression is there and the bassist is doing his own thing in the background that sounds fantastic.

He slips another pair of headphones over his curly mop of hair (he has some sort of splitter-thing so they both can listen to his iPod) and sits on the floor next to her bed. He produces a notebook from somewhere in his bag and starts writing.

He actually was going to do his English Homework.

Rolling onto her back, Kat stared at the ceiling her knees bent, feet flat on top of her comforter. Her fingers drummed along to the beat (and the kick ass solo through the bridge). Risking a glance over her shoulder, she tried to get a glimpse of what he was writing. What she saw was Patrick giving her a knowing look. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he threw his history book at her.

Someone had written "21" with a sharpie on the spine, followed by "Do Not Remove from Classroom". Which meant he illegally took the textbook from school and the teacher was too dumb to notice. The song ended, and there was a bit of static, so she cracked open the book to chapter five and began reading.

The static ended and his voice came through from the recording, "I can't stop thinking about you. So at two AM I made you a playlist."

She refused to smile. Not smiling. Nope. He bent up to kiss her cheek and then went back to his homework. Okay maybe she was smiling a little.

Thursday

"Your room is Green." Mandela pointed out, "and smells like Patchouli."

Patrick was obviously not pleased that Mandela was with them. Kat, being a good friend, picked Mandela up before school and they drove to that new Earth-friendly coffee shop before school. Which meant Mandela had no ride home. So Kat was going to drive her home until Captain Intensity gave her an SOS text- which turned out to be his thinly veiled attempt at a booty call.

He shrugged at Mandela's earlier comment before sitting down at his desk chair- motioning for the two of them to sit on his bed. The room was a mess. Clothes, posters, CDs. They were in plies for the most part, but it was a mess. His space was very cluttered and for a big room he had a lot of junk. There was even a spare tire propped up against the wall as some sort of end table. His desk was absolutely spotless though, a cup of expensive pens in a coffee mug, and a tablet of paper ready to be drawn on.

"Mandela, be nice." Kat hissed in warning. Mandela gave her a "whatever" look before sitting on Patrick's bed. Kat maneuvered around the stack of car magazines, spare car parts and notebooks to stand next to Patrick at his desk. She ran her fingers though Patrick's hair as on a whim. For a guy he had very soft hair. His eyes fluttered shut and-"So what did you need to tell me about School?"

"They searched your sister's locker today and confiscated her lipgloss." He mumbled, grabbing her arm to pull her in closer.

She meant to sit down, really but the lame excuse in her head (he pulled her into his lap) was much more convenient. Mandela continues the story about Bianca's whore-colored lipgloss and her father being called- how she missed this she'll never know.

Patrick, obviously bored leans his head against her palm and closes his eyes. And they talk about English and school and the Art Show she promised to go to tomorrow, and it's nice to have a normal afternoon. Until she sees it propped against the corner near his desk. "I KNEW IT! Who's the stalker now?"

A picture of the two of them in the hallway (she was testing the self-timer on her new camera, okay? She WAS NOT doing that lame couple-y thing that every other teenage girl seemed to be obsessed with) they were arguing over New Grunge vs. Nineties Grunge and he had gotten in her face about it-

And then the flash went off and it was probably the most interesting picture she ever took. It's black and white, and she is just- staring Patrick down, but he's already in her face- and he stole it from her room! Her hands are feebly clenched around his shirt and why the idea of fighting with him turns her on- she has no idea.

"And that's my cue to leave. I get her tomorrow and every other weekend, Verona!" Mandela yells on her way out the door.

"Finally." Patrick growled, cupping the back of her head and tilting her head towards his. One thing lead to another, her fingers were pulling his shirt off, her jeans were tossed on the floor- her sweater- his pants-

He maneuvered them over to the bed and she was suddenly very aware of how far things had progressed. "Patrick-Patrick!"

"You want me to stop?" His mouth was on her neck and it was getting harder to breathe properly-

"Hell, no. Condom. You need to get a condom." She panted.

She lost her virginity to Patrick Verona . And afterwards when she was curled up against him, and he talked about music, or his father, or life in general- she knew that it meant something- that it mattered. And it was a bit uncomfortable but it was bearable.

She lets him keep the picture.

Friday

He gets detention for hitting Zach Lucas in the face.

The douchebag deserved it though, and for once she didn't mind Captain Intensity's fist doing all of the talking. He called Bianca a slut- and that was just the part they heard from on the other side of the dumpsters. She would have punched him in the groin! No one picked on her little sister (except for Chastity) and it was well within her rights to make sure he never procreated. And she totally would have kicked him, but Bianca was crying, latched onto her left arm, the arm that Kat liked, so she rushed her sister to the nearest bathroom. They apparently made out last weekend at a party and when he wanted to have sex with her, she said no.

Now she was really going to castrate him.

"C told me not to make out with him, but I thought it was because she liked him." Bianca sniffled, "You and Patrick have had sex right?"

She blanches at that. Her little sister should not be asking questions like that- especially not to her face. But she was two years older and hormone crazy and- Patrick was the first guy in a long time to really- not get her, but understand that she was who she was- and liked her. That was better than him being hot (which he was) or him being funny (which he was). He respected her. She wrapped her arms around her little sister and tried to do what her mom would have done. Tell the truth.

"Yes. But we used protection and I li-lo-respect Patrick. And who I am around him. I don't need to bleach my hair or pretend I give a damn about sports, or his leather jacket. That's the most important part of love, respect. Mom told me that once. When you feel like you're ready to have sex- make sure you keep that respect for yourself."

"Patrick is kinda dreamy with the punch-punch." Bianca put her fists up and imitated Patrick's earlier nose-breaking action, "I didn't know he could be such a sweetheart."

"Yeah, because violence is always the solution."

"He was defending my honor, and by proxy, my dear sister, your honor. How 16th century of him."

She was going to correct her, but instead she handed her sister some wadded up toilet paper and dusted herself off the floor. "Nobody messes with the Stratford sisters."

She gets detention for kicking Zach in the groin. It was worth it.

Saturday

She's grounded . No car, no cell phone, no tv, no computer. No way to yell at her stupid boyfriend for also being grounded. Or to you know talk to him.

Bianca however, gets treated like royalty. She gets sexually harassed; she gets dinner wherever she wants, everyone instantly hates the guy who harassed her and her phone is ringing off the hook in various other forms of attention. Kat gets grounded and has to eat leftovers. Which mainly consisted of lima beans. Yuck.

The sound of her window being wrenched open jars her thoughts and she smiles thinking her boyfriend came to visit her. Instead she's greeted with the sight of Cameron, his wrist wrapped in an ace bandage looking like some ran him over with their car.

"Um, wrong window."

"-The branch leads right to your window. I'm not Spider Man, or something." Cameron sighs pathetically, "I punch out Zach Lucas, and where's my hero's welcome? Where's my super appropriate yet amazingly soft hug? PATRICK got detention and no one even knows it was ME!"

"You let Patrick take the blame?"

"I was standing over the jackass! With bloody knuckles! And Patrick was walking around the corner with a stuffed rat-looking thing! So everyone thinks it was him! The principal like hates him if you didn't know."

"I'm well aware of our principal's certain biases towards certain individuals in our school."

"So I'm here to tell you not to be like, mad at Patrick, even though you get mad a lot, AND to tell Bianca I was fighting for her!"

Kat pointed to the left towards the wall she shared with her sister, before motioning in for him to get out. Patrick wasn't as stupid as she thought.

Sunday

She wakes up Sunday Morning, her fingers in Patrick's hair, his arm slung around her middle. He definitely wasn't there when she went to bed, but she didn't mind. Yawning, she snuggled against her pillows and went back to sleep.