Infuriating

By: Maeleene

A/N: I've been reading a lot of KKM fics, and I have a million ideas to write down. However, upon opening my word document, I found the names writing themselves down were not Yuuri and Wolfram, but Jet and Virginia! Well, I'm not one to deny my muse, and so I said, "Sure. Let's write a good ol' WA3 fic." Hopefully, it's not too bad. It's nothing special. Not really fluffy, not really a pairing fic. Just something kind of fun I wanted to write. Poor Jet. And maybe even poor Virginia. I swear, either they're going to love each other or kill each other... I'm not sure sometimes.

Anyway! They may be out of character. I can't even remember the last time I played this game (though I really want to now!), so it could be off. Feedback and such would be great. Read on!

Disclaimer: I didn't do it.

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Jet thought Virginia was infuriating. But that was okay, she decided, because Virginia thought Jet was infuriating, too. In fact, she was so often frustrated with him that she couldn't recall why she put up with his presence. Maybe because he was a challenge. Yes, that had to be it. She didn't know anybody that could withstand her probing and compassion and speeches of justice. She swayed people. She swayed everyone. Everyone but Jet. And that was why Virginia Maxwell put up with her stick-in-the-mud, grumpy and, most of all, infuriating roommate.

"Stop with your incessant humming!" Jet cried out, slamming his fists on the desk in exasperation. And she did stop. For about a second.

If she couldn't sway him with righteous justice and sticky-sweet words, she'd annoy him to his breaking point.

Growling, he stood up, the chair falling backwards from the force, and faced her with eyes that spit fire. "Virginia!"

She smiled in a way that made plenty of men melt, gazed at him through her lashes (more to hide her malicious grin), and asked coyly, "Yes, Jet?"

He grit his teeth, his eye twitching as he clenched and unclenched his fists, then said in a low voice, "Stop. Humming. Now."

The girl tilted her head in mock innocence and asked, "...Why?"

She could read the expressions crossing on his face. Shock, confusion, agitation, and perhaps a deep-rooted hate. After a moment he picked up his ARMs and pointed at it. "Because I'm about to shoot myself to get away from your annoying voice."

Glancing briefly at his gun, she scoffed. And then she gestured demurely. "The door's that way, you know."

"This is my room, too!" he yelled, on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "And Gallows' and Clive's! I shouldn't have to leave because you want to be a nuisance!"

"Oh, Jet. Calm down." She didn't miss his glare. "You just haven't said a very important something." And it was true. He'd forgotten the magic word.

"Shut up or die?" he grumped, cocking his gun in a threatening manner.

"Hardly."

"Hush, Your Highness?"

"No, My Lord."

"That door's looking rather tempting."

She rolled her eyes. "You haven't said please."

Jet stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you KIDDING me?!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "Please, shut your damn trap!"

She giggled, hopping off the window ledge to lounge on her bed. "With pleasure, Jet."

Muttering to himself, he righted his fallen chair, resettled himself into a suitably sulky position, and glowered at the wall with a vengeance. " 'Please!' " he huffed. "Please, indeed."

Well, maybe she hadn't cracked him yet, Virginia mused, but she'd get there. Oh, poor Jet... How oblivious he was to his impending doom. Soon, he might even smile.

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