So, since I have accepted the ending of TSFT, I've decided to lighten the mood with some OOC humour on the characters' part. Now, let me just say that my sense of humour is well... rather... interesting. You've been warned. D

Chapter 1 - "You Bloody Vermin!"

Kartik's POV

"Mmm..." I shift my position slightly so that I lay sprawled on my bed. The pillow is soft and surprisingly warm, and I eagerly bury my face further into its comforting depths. Half-conscious, I vaguely feel the texture of lacing against my lips, and without thinking, I take it into my mouth. Once more, a sigh of contentment escapes my lips as I can not recall having ever slept so soundly in my life.

Something tickles my closed eyelids, ushering the automatic movement of my hand to brush it away. With the irritation gone, the hand comes to rest on the pillow beside my head. Strangely enough, the pillow fits, or rather fills the shape of my palm perfectly as if rising up to meet my hand...

I am not sure what happens thereafter. All I am aware of is a female's high-pitched scream filling my ears for what seems like an eternity. The awful sound continues to ring even after I bolt upright from my peaceful slumber, my lids still half-closed. "What the...?" I begin before realizing something is squirming under me, and this something sounds very much like a certain red-head that I dearly love.

"Gemma?" My voice sounds foreign to me; it is the result of a night filled with one too many drinks. However, I hardly have time to ponder my previous night's events, nor am I spared a second to wonder why my beloved English girl is sleeping with me...

"You bloody vermin! Get off me!" My eyes pop open when I hear her curse. Her preoccupation with throwing threats and vulgar insults seem to disallow the realization that it is me she is shouting at.

Amidst her vicious attempts at throwing punches, I slowly clamber off of her, all the while trying not to laugh at her prissy fit. In a matter of seconds, the grin on my face is wiped off and replaced with a painful expression as a knee successfully connects with my tender spot. My throat lets out an odd noise, something between a squeak and a whimper, as I roll off the high bed, taking the sheets with me and landing non-too-gently on the cold floor.

I am fuming when part of the pain subsides and I am able to form speech once more, "What the hell did you do that for?!"

"Kartik?" I see her face peering nervously over the edge of the bed. There is a leather book in her hands; I can only imagine what she would do with it had this "intruder" not been me.

I wince as I sit, then stand up, "Yes, it's me. Who did you think it was?" I was still rather angry, and my brows furrow to demonstrate this.

"A lady can never be sure, can she?" She purses her lips, "And besides, what in carnations were you doing in my bed?"

"Well, I was sleeping.. before you assaulted me." I am met with a glare. My mouth twitches.

"You have a perfectly suitable bed of your own, Kartik. You needn't steal mine as well for your luxury."

"That I do, but then again, I wasn't really sleeping on your bed now was I?" I do not hesitate to smirk.

Gemma's face resumes a colour similar to that of her hair's. She is well aware of what I mean, and I feel rather smug that she is at a loss for a proper comeback. This only makes me grin further.

"As I recall," I continue, folding my arms over my chest, "my pillow was exceptional. Smelled very fresh, almost as alluring as you."

"You are a beast, Kartik --" She scoffs.

"Don't you know it.." I cut in.

She ignores my statement. "You have no right to barge into my room in the middle of the night with me unawares and completely defenseless --"

"Actually, I did not barge --"

"--And using my space to such a liberty that you convinced yourself that I shall not be bothered in the morning by your uninvited presence!"

I cock a brow while she pauses to catch her breath. "Are you quite done?"

"As a matter of fact, no." She climbs off the bed and approaches me in what she thinks is an intimidating expression. Unfortunately, she does not realize how hot I am growing from witnessing her in such a dominant state.

"I do believe, Kartik, that you are under the impression that I am unable to resist you, that I shall swoon and feel faint in the knees each time you present yourself. But I assure you that is absolute poppycock. Next time you intend on using me as a cushion, do not think I won't stick pins in you!"

"Are you done now?" I ask, feigning a bored yawn.

"...Yes," she concludes after a moment of hesitancy, then imitates my pose by crossing her arms. This only succeeds in bringing my gaze lower to settle on the cleavage that had suddenly appeared as a result of her action. There is a tingling in my trousers that is difficult to disacknowledge.

"Well, Miss Doyle, it seems that you've got me all figured out," I say, clasping my hands behind my back and pacing the room as if I were an Englishman thinking of what to dictate to his scribe. "I delight in terrorizing adolescent females of the red-haired variety, especially at the dead of night when all her house attendants are sound asleep. And nothing pleases me more than to ravish said damsel who has managed to accidentally neglect shutting and locking her window, which I might add is a foolish thing to do since she may quite easily be intruded upon by nightly insects or even worse, other repulsive species."

I turn to look at her and smile to myself when I note her glowering. Her mouth opens to defend herself, but I quickly interrupt. "From this, I see two possible conclusions, Miss Doyle. One, I am a sick brute who chose not to take your virtue even though I easily could have without your knowing; or two, you purposefully kept the window open in hopes that a certain lad might help warm your bed."

"Why, I never.. you dare accuse me..." I take pleasure in watching her stumble for the appropriate words. "Kartik, you pompous gibing.. ass!"

"Language, Miss Doyle, language." I wag my index finger at her in mock disapproval.

"Kartik, you are to leave my room right this instant! I will deal with you later!" She begins to push me towards the open window; however, she is sorely mistaken if she thinks I shall oblige and take my leave without having some real fun.

"How about you deal with me now, and save some quality time for later?" I suggest, flashing her a grin that would normally have sent Emily staring dreamily in enchantment, but the effect it has on my Gemma is most disappointing.

"Ha, in your dreams!" She barks while throwing her head back. All in all, I must say that I find that motion rather unattractive even on her, which is saying a lot.

"Well, that's reassuring then," I take a bold step forward, "because I just happen to believe in my dreams." Like lightning, my hands have sprung up and caught her by the wrists. Her gasp makes my heart -among other parts, flutter, and I eagerly take that as my cue to kiss her.

She does not resist when I dip my head and cover her lips with my own, and for a second I am sure she has come to her senses and surrendered to her undeniable attraction towards me. How could she not? I mean, it is blatantly obvious that she personally delivers my meals each day in order to catch a hopeful glimpse of my glorious figure, not just to display her hospitality and keep me healthy and alive... though I certainly hope the latter is also true. Even back at Spence, she wasn't taking walks in the woods alone just because she could not fall asleep. Oh no, it was distinctly an excuse so that someone may help her fall asleep. If these reasons are not enough to explain her sexual intentions towards me, I can not possibly think what are.

How very wrong I am. Apparently, this little rose has more thorns than what meets the eye.

So absorbed in the kiss am I that I failed to realize the shuffle against my leg and the gaining proximity of her disobedient knee. For the second time that morning, I am sent crumbling onto the floor, eyes squeezed shut in pain, and rolling in the fetal position. "Bloody hell, Gemma, you don't fight fair at all," I managed to wheeze.

"No, I suppose I don't," she says coolly. "Why? Is there a problem?"

I hear her footsteps approach. "You tell me..." I open my eyes to see her peering pitilessly at me. She offers a hand, which I take rather hesitantly.

With surprising force, she pulls me to my feet then shows me to the window. "As I said before, I shall deal with you later..." Her tone is exceptionally cold which makes me wonder if I have gone over the top this time. She usually isn't this strict with my mischievous ways. Normally, I would have my fun, she would pout and put on a stubborn act, then somehow we'd always end up clinging to each other in a passionate snogging session.

I am left to ponder this as she watches me exit through her window. There is an empty feeling in my stomach; I feel as if I were a toddler having just been rejected his favourite treat after a week long of waiting. Or, as a more appropriate analogy, Tom having been rejected from the Athenaeum after being led to believe for over a month that he was a welcome member. And how do I know this? Let's just say I was the unfortunate one who had to bear his cursing and unmanly sobbing throughout the entire ride back home. I must say, however, that my vocabulary has increased thanks to Mr. Doyle's vocal drunkeness, though most of the new words revolve around descriptions of holes and mutts, and that's being mild about it.

Even as I arrive at the base of the estate and hobble awkwardly towards the stables, gathering a few curious stares along the way, I can not help but continue to wonder what had made Gemma so displeased.

I sit down in the straws against a stall gate, skimming through all that I've been told about women and their questionable behaviours. I recall having heard something about females and a certain time of each month when they would act bitterly without reason. Men... menstruation, was it? The word is foreign on my tongue, but perhaps it holds the answer to the sudden hostility of my beloved towards me. I shall have to inquire her later when she "deals" with me.

Ooh la la, Kartik sure likes his "pillow".

Poor Kartik, I do hope he knows what he's doing... if not, he might just get a third "oomph!", as if two weren't enough.

Please review!

P.S. I'm not quite digging the title of this story right now. If you have some interesting suggestions, please prop them my way (by comment or message).