Since everyone was so nice and reviewed so promptly on my first story I decided to write another albeit longer story. Sadly I won't continue the other one since I think it's just done, but I can do a kind of continuing story.

Patrick Verona/ Kat Stratford

Fluff, just sweet. Might be a little ooc (out of character)

Once again, grammatical and sentence structure criticism is okay, no flames

Got the idea based on something supposed to happen in an episode or two so it's kind of spoiler-ish?

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The feel of Patrick Verona was absolutely incredible. Everything from the way his back tensed when I rubbed his shoulder blades, to how he'd give this little shudder if I kissed his neck was fantastic. Over the months of our relationship I had started compiling the ultimate list of what made the possible cannibal/hit man/demon possessed Patrick Verona moan. While this was proving to be another fantastic fact gathering session, I did have a mission.

Sadly, a Bianca fueled mission.

Once I had figured out where everyone's limbs were and how to properly disentangle them, it was only a matter of relearning how to breathe. Sometimes I thought Patrick purposefully got me this wound up, just to see me try to deal with coming down. It wasn't fair, but then again I did the exact same thing to him. There wasn't a competition going per se, but it was definitely a triumph when his eyes couldn't focus on anything but my lips.

"The Prom is this weekend and I didn't have any plans on going. But Bianca the bubble-head is going to commit suicide if she can't go. Which of course she can't do if I don't so, can we just go? You know, in the name of preserving Stratford domestic peace." My eyes rose to meet his in a new challenge. I didn't make any excuse for my less than cool verbal communication. That was a key bonus with Patrick; I could be exactly how I wanted and never have to consider apologizing. Not that I would have anyway, but it was nice to know he wasn't expecting it.

"You really want to take me to prom? Gosh Kat, this is so sudden, I don't even have a dress." The other bonus of Patrick was he knew how to take a punch in the arm when he was being a jackass. His dark eyes never lost their mocking sheen as I forcefully pushed him away. I jumped down from the concrete support. (Really the most practical option for making out, since it hurt his back to lean down to me and I couldn't stand on my tip-toes forever.) I made myself gather up my backpack for the eventual ringing of the bell to adjourn lunch.

"Fine, crush Bianca and her magical quest to receive the esteem of all things superficial, it's not my issue. Just tell me when she decides to castrate you. It'll be a joy to watch." I smiled sweetly and timed my exit perfectly with the bell. True, it was a little punch in the ego to know he probably didn't want to take me to the prom, but we weren't like that. Patrick and I were just what we were; our wires would become crossed occasionally from miscommunication, but we dealt and all was good. Still I was really hoping he'd want to take me…

Screw it, I'd go alone. Anything was better than turning into one of those whiney, needy amebas, permanently suction cupped to their boy-friends because they just can't bear one second without them.

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I sat in a chair in the dinning room listening to Dad preach about placentas, the birthing cycle, STDs and loss of virginity for possibly the 5th hour straight. I was beyond fed-up with this. Bianca wasn't doing much better either, tapping her fingers and toes like it was a dire drum solo. Luckily though her date rang the door-bell.

"I'll get it." We yelled in tandem, making a break for the door together. I let her shove me out of the way at the last second; confident I didn't want to meet the vapid being behind the door. Instead I made my way to the stairs hoping to grab the prom tickets and get out before Dad had a chance to launch into another "Talk" with us.

"Kat, it's for you." I nearly fell down the steps. Who the hell could it have been? Aside from Mandella anyway. I refused to let any emotion show on my face. He wouldn't. Would he?

"Still can't get rid of those butterflies Kat? Do you need a vomit bucket?" I stopped breathing. Patrick Verona was just standing there, in my living room, staring up at me, looking amazingly hot in… something that resembled a suit. My stomach gave a loud flop and surprisingly I did feel the urge to vomit, however I didn't. Not only would that shred any image of hot I had, but Bianca would have killed me for getting anything on the purple strapless thing I was wearing.

It took every bit of control I had to walk down those stairs calmly.

"Well, nice to know how much you value your man parts." He grinned at me, that stupid crooked, cocky grin and I couldn't help smiling, but only a little bit, didn't want him to know how much I was happy to see him. Yeah, we were dating, but that didn't mean I'd let it go to his head, his ego was big enough already.

"And if man-parts are exposed at any time during this dance-" I grabbed Patrick's hand and ran out the door yelling for Bianca to hurry. There was nothing on earth to make me stay listening to my dad with Patrick in the room.

"Eagar to get going?" He pressed me up against the door and made a move to kiss me. I genuinely regretted having to push him away again.

"Trust me, not in front of my dad or Bianca for that matter." I walked to the driver's side and got in, Patrick took shot-gun. Bianca surprised me by knocking on my window.

"Umm you two go ahead, I've got another ride." I leaned out to see her friend Cameron waving ecstatically from his car… with his mom in the front.

"Right, see ya Bianca," I drove away after a few more minutes of discussing meeting places and all that. It was only alone in the car with Patrick that I realized I should be more nervous. This was prom. While supposedly a classy affair in Pauda, had still been the cause of many a virgin's failing. Was Patrick expecting sex? Oh god I hadn't even thought of that. My breathing quickened noticeably.

"Kat do you really need that barf bag?" Patrick was leaning over to check on me. It was almost sweet enough to let me forget what he had on his mind. I pulled over to tell him off.

"You know I'm not going to have sex with you okay. Not now, not tonight and maybe not in a couple of months. So, if that's what you're expecting tonight, forget it. I still have my mace and the taser gun so I could theoretically fend you off. So don't even try to-"

"Kat, calm down." I shut up and let him grab my hand. Who'd have thought all my dad's scare tactics actually worked? The only thing spinning in my mind were statistics on STDS and teen pregnancy.

"Now I'm sure you'd love to surrender yourself in a rush of heat, fireworks and all that. But I, unlike your perverted self, was not thinking of ravishing you at something as cheesy as prom. Believe it or not my number one priority is not getting into your pants." My breath let out in this huge, embarrassing rush, shoulders sagging and making me fall forward, closer to him.

"I'm sorry. I freaked it just, I didn't want and." This is why I do not make apologies. I suck at them. He smiled, probably thinking it was hilarious how nervous I was over sex. I very uncharitably imagined that he had lost it in the back of a car at age 11.

"Enough said" And that was it. We had just had that crucial sex talk that ended so many of teen relationships. It was painless. I hadn't realized how worried I was to lose him over that. Childish yes, but absolutely true.

I remember throwing myself on him, or maybe he leaned in to me, but in seconds we were making out in my car like only two true all-American kids can do. My legs landed on either side of his lap, and somehow that made my leverage even better. It was heady to feel taller than Patrick for once. One hand went around my waist, the other to my neck, clutching at the little strands hanging down from my up-do. My hands clenched around the fabric of his jacket, willing our bodies to get as close as possible. Our tongues entwined for a silky battle of dominance that I was determined to make him lose. Patrick had other ideas though, bringing his lips down to my neck making a small hickey, nothing I couldn't cover with Bianca's make-up.

Making out in the car was slightly awkward, but somehow we managed splendidly. Everything was getting so warm and tingly. I didn't want to stop. It just felt so good. Luckily, Patrick, for once, pushed me away. Cool air of reason floated up between us and I felt almost embarrassed about my rather sluttish out-burst. But one look at the eyes solely focused on my lips and I felt the ballooning rush of my ego swelling.

"I thought you wanted to get through the night with your virginity intact." I smiled and crawled out of Patrick's lap, content to start the car and let the silence sit there, completely unobtrusive.

Because contrary to Patrick's belief I was now very concerned that the only thing standing in the way of keeping my virginity intact was myself. With that thought I put the car in gear and gunned it all the way to the dance. Surely all the Crepe-paper and cheesy decorations would help cool the fire.

It didn't.

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