Blood

"Don't do anything… Duncan-ish." I put the car in drive.

Duncan snorted. "Made up your own word there sweetheart?" He blew some stray strands of his Mohawk away from his eyes, chewing his lip.

"Behave." I sternly faced him while looking over my shoulders to make sure no cars were coming from behind. I hadn't been to a party in I don't know how long, much less a pool party. He might be my boyfriend, but that didn't change the fact that I wasn't going to let him embarrass me. I was running for student council this week. I had to look presentable- this was my first airing as a candidate!

I know that may sound stupid, well, at least it did to Duncan, but do you understand the importance of this? People on the student council end up with full ride scholarships, end up writing their own novels, end up being interviewed by Oprah. This is bigger than him, and it was bigger than me. So I wasn't going to have him screwing it up.

He rolled his eyes at me, apparently fed up with my nagging. "Fine."

It was a little quiet for the first two minutes, and then he finally couldn't hold his breath any longer. We both have a problem with being quiet for long periods of time: it came as no surprise that as we were engulfed in silence one of us had to break it. "Well, since I'm bored and have nothing to do… Let me check that you have everything in your bag."

I threw him a look. "No, Duncan. Leave my stuff in the bag; you don't need to be looking through a woman's bag." I was only able to shoot him a glare and then pasting my eyes back on the road.

"Come on, Babe, I'm just checking." He said sarcastically, reaching in the back seat for my bag. "And besides, I'm not looking through a woman's bag. I'm looking through yours." I jerked the car to the left so he smashed against the door. "FUCK you." He muttered, rubbing his head, unzipping the bag.

I scoffed. "Fine then ass wipe. Look through my stuff. I don't care." Lies, all lies, but there was no reason to let him know he had got to me. "And fuck you!"

"You're not going to stop me." Duncan stuck his tongue out at me, and although his frown was stiff his eyes had a smile in them, the one you get when you find a wallet on the ground or when your practically blind teacher grades your test wrong in your favor.

I hate him.

He smirked. "Okay, sexy bikini: check!" He held the little white bikini in his hands, toying with it. "Lacy." He hissed seductively. He then took a moment to lean over and bite her ear, and as much as she was trying to stay mad at him, she heard herself gasp.

He smirked at her reaction, grabbing inside the bag again. "Towels for an awesome looking me: check." He unfolded the neat towels Courtney had made earlier, shoving them back in, and smiled.

Searching through the bag again, he stopped. I could see that his whole face had gone stiff and his eyes were open wide. That's when I knew he found them. He looked at me, and his face was a violent shade of red. "Sorry." He mumbled.

I couldn't help but smile on the inside. Tampons did come in handy every once in awhile (even if it wasn't really that time of the month).

Duncan then grunted. "Girls who are on their period can't do the dirty, can they?" He smirked at me. "And I had it all planned out." I decided not to respond, focusing on the road, but he does know exactly what buttons to push. "We still could though. It would be like stabbing an animal, over and over…"

"Ewe!" I yelled in disgust. I mean who says that? It was really fucked up that we were even talking about this in the first place, much less that it had nothing to do with him. "Duncan, that's completely foul."

Duncan snorted. "So, explain to me this whole period thing."

I flinched, looking at him sternly. He was serious though. "What do you want to know?" When we had our six children (he might not agree to that but he's not the one going through child birth, now is he?), I needed him to be prepared. Because planning ahead was always good.

"Well, there's blood, right?" He says. And I can hear the smile in his voice.

I breathed hard through clenched teeth. "Yup." What was wrong with us? This was stupid, this was just… who wanted to talk about this? EVER?

"Does it have a distinct smell?" I could tell he was holding back a smirk.

My nose wrinkled in disgust. "I… guess so…"

"What's it smell like?"

"I'm done with this conversation, Duncan."

He smirked lightly, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Suit yourself."

A/N: If you give Cereal five minutes to look around her bathroom for story idea's, this is what you get. It's one of those 'I felt it should end here' stories that I could have added more to. But if I did that it would possible fail. :P

Anyone who thought this was gross and immature, let me just say you're an asshole for reading it. I'm really tired of putting 'Don't like, don't read' in my summaries and stuff. If I get another 'But Cereal I like this character' or 'Cereal but this pairing is awesome' review, I'm going to rip my eye balls out.

Those of you who actually read warnings, I praise you for having common sense. –smiles-

Thanks for reading!