IMPORTANT NOTE: If you haven't read Various Days of What the Heck by ReveredMage then go read it now! (Or else you'll be very confused on where the idea for this fanfic came from)

Also: Insanely longer than the one this was supposed to be a response to (16 pages longer, to be exact). But then—I suck at writing anything short…

-was Listening to Fallin' Apart by The All American Rejects while writing this-

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING except the plot, and Den (the voice in Jays head)…if you've read anything else of mine you know vaguely who Den is, but if not you'll be introduced.

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I was going to get them back for it. Norma, in particular. I knew I was, and I knew I would succeed.

After all, I wasn't Jay the Unseen for titles sake only, now was I?

-Present-

"G'night!" I heard Norma, almost drunkenly; call out to someone, before the door slammed shut. She stumbled the few steps it took for her to reach her bed, and—not even bothering to kick off her shoes, she collapsed on the mattress with a loud 'squeak'.

And she was asleep—and snoring—in an instant.

This really was too easy; I couldn't help the smirk tugging at my lips. She hadn't even tried to hide the camera—or, well, she did, but then, I had been watching her for a few days now. I knew where she hid things. Admittedly—some of those things I would probably do better without seeing, but it was a small price to pay.

Norma with Blackmail material was never a good thing.

'Especially if it's you in a really frilly dress.' A familiar voice taunted in the back of my mind.

My smirk turned to a frown, "It wasn't frilly."

'The panties were.' The voice snickered.

I sighed, "And of course that's the only thing you worry about."

'It's the only thing important.' Now it was a downright cackle.

"Oh bother," but I had to ignore it. And I had gotten good at it, too. After all it had been how long?

But then. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

I exhaled and stepped from the dangerously unstable tree branch, to the window sill. Habit had shown—she left it unlocked. And sure enough now wasn't any different than those times.

I opened the pane's wide enough so that I could slip through, but not wide enough to where they would creak. That would be bad—and had the potential to wake her up—but when she let out a particularly loud snore—

I didn't think I had to worry too much. I had memorized the places that squeaked—a pattern of intricate steps to the foot of her bed. Underneath, of which, she kept her 'belongings'

'She could've changed positions.'

I didn't even bother answering; instead I reached my hand, tentatively, under the short skirt that ran the length of the mattress. She was a Treasure Hunter, after all, who knew what she had up her sleeve.

Except, I pretty much knew her. At least that well.

'Of course you do.' The voice laughed again, 'You let her blackmail you, didn't ya?'

I bit my lip, and moved my hand farther back—almost cursing the fact of its overall shortness—

Until my fingertips brushed against a box. Of some sort. Or a case. Definitely a case—a leather one. I felt along the side until I felt the strap—and the zipper that ran out of its opening. Thankfully it was open.

'But couldn't that mean she took it out?'

I didn't answer that either. But it was a definitely no. I hadn't seen her with it—and we had nearly been forced together for the past few days—since she took the photo. And she had always had it with her.

'She made me escort her back too.' I grimaced, 'Every time.' But then that had almost given me the 'okay'—a very, very loud neon red sign one—to stalk her.

'That would almost be creepy.' The voice clucked, 'If she hadn't done worse.' If the voice had an actual body—or form to it—I figured it had rolled over, or something—'I'm glad I don't know her, right?'

I really wanted to answer that, but kept my mouth—and thoughts—carefully shut. Instead, I concentrated on maneuvering the bag, so that it would easily let the contents free—the edges of the camera, the camera's strap and—

Finally. Successfully. I had it freed. I dragged my hand, back, slowly, smirking to myself—as Norma let out another painstakingly un-feminine snore—this was really all too easy.

'What'll she do when she figures out its gone?' I successfully withdrew my hand, and the voice sounded all but amused by it.

"Nothing." I whispered—timing it with a loud intake of breath on Norma's part—standing, in equally the same motion, and slinging the camera around my neck.

'Really? I'll bet she'll be angry.'

My lips twitched—because I knew she would be. But then—I'd give her back the camera. I'd just burn the film.

'She doesn't have copies anywhere?'

Again, had he been human I would have glared, "No," again I timed it with a snore, stepping up onto the windowsill yet again—and maneuvering myself, masterfully, through the open panes.

Then I hopped, easily, onto the branch again, turning on my heels in the same motion—and slowly easing the window shut. She'd never know. Heck, I doubted she'd even realize it tomorrow, until it was too late.

"I doubt she knows how to." I continued answering my unwilling occupant's previous question.

'I thought she was smart?'

"Knowing how to translate something doesn't mean anything in the long run," I sighed, "I'm learning it too—Relares."

'True,' He agreed, almost sighing, 'But if she can do that then what makes copying so hard?'

"She doesn't have the right connections." The voice was thoroughly amused now, "they're on the mainland. Not everything has leaked here, yet."

'So you'll just hope she didn't—"

"if she had then she would've sent the film and," I paused, and leaned against a tree, turning the camera on—and flitting through the photo's still collected on there. The same. Humiliating. Ones.

'You look cute.'

I would have glared again, but instead, I closed my eyes and dealt with it, "See? Still here."

'You proved your point. But now what?'

"I'll destroy the film."

'And then what?'

"I'll give it back to her tomorrow."

'And she won't obviously know you stole it?'

"It wouldn't matter at that point." I would have shrugged, but it was pointless. Instead, I stretched my arms above my head, turning the camera resolutely off, before pushing away on my heels, and continuing on my way.

It was getting late, after all. I didn't want to lose anymore sleep over this than I had to.

-The Next Day-

'Yup, she's pissed.'

I felt my lips twitch, amusedly, as she ranted to Shirley—begging her—begging her—"are you sure you haven't seen it?!"

And Shirley, the poor victim, shook her head, eyes wide, "I-I gave it back to you, I swear!"

"You're sure?"

She nodded her head, "Yes."

"But we were looking through it yesterday afternoon." Norma bit her lip, worrying it—eyes scanning but not focusing all the same. If they had she would've seen me, standing off in my own little corner of the upturned house—grinning like the idiot bandit himself.

A moment later and Senel appeared—popping his head out from behind the overturned couch, "Not here either!" He grunted out, "But—what are you looking for again?"

Norma whipped around, and glared daggers at him. Almost, "Senny! How could you agree to help when you don't even know what we're looking for?!"

Immediately Senel bowed back, but Will—coming out of the bathroom—spoke volumes for him, "Do we ever know what we're looking for when it comes to you?" He looked over at Shirley, "Do you know what we're looking for?"

"A camera."

I took that moment—the moment of explanation—to shift—and drop—the camera, stealthily, behind some upturned boxes—lying it just so—that it looked like it fell, naturally, from, possibly, the pile of books it had been holding upright. Like a paperweight, almost.

"And why are we searching for this camera?"

"Because it has pictures in it that I took!" Norma seethed.

"Pictures of what?" Chloe appeared, next, on the top stair of the staircase, squinting her eyes.

"Very Important pictures!"

This time all three of them chorused, "Of what?"

And that's when I took my cue.

"What does it look like again?"

Norma turned her to me, suspiciously, "You know what it looks like!"

"No, I mean," I tried to explain, "Is there anything on it—a sticker, or something? Knowing you, there has to be." She opened her mouth to retort, but I cut her off, "Because if there isn't then you could have laid it down somewhere and—"

"And?"

"Someone else could have picked it up." I shrugged my shoulders—almost acting like I didn't care, but acting pensive because she knew very well what the heck was on those photo's—and what was at stake if someone else got their hands on them.

"But—why?"

'Why?' the voice blanched, almost, with me.

"Where are we again?"

She blinked.

Shirley blinked.

Chloe blinked.

Senel blinked.

Will answered, "The Legacy." He got it. Smart Will.

"And?"

"Why did you come to the Legacy?" I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead—like I had a headache that she was making worse.

"To search for the EverLight, duh."

"And why did you think it was here?"

"Because it was nowhere else?"

"Exactly," I sighed, "Do you get it?"

She blinked, "No. JJ, what the heck're you getting at?"

I sighed once more, opening my eyes and trying to stare at her head on, which was actually easier to do than I thought, considering I was flat out lying to her face. Which I, remarkably, hadn't exactly done yet.

'Oh you have.'

I didn't respond, instead, "You're quickly joining the ranks of that idiot, you know."

'You're heart's speeding up.'

I promptly ignored that too.

"Eh? Y'mean Red?" She looked offended, "what the crap JJ?"

"But he's telling the truth." Will agreed, "This is the Legacy after all."

"What about it?"

"You might have lived here for almost a year," He looked just as annoyed about it as I was, "but this is a main tourist attraction. Or do you not remember?"

An awkward silence filled the air.

Then, 'He tries, doesn't he?' The voice tsked, almost disapproving, 'But he fails.'

'Miserably.' I added silently, in my mind.

The voice cackled in response. Probably rolling over again, if it had the option.

Then, it infamously clicked, "So you're saying bunches of other people could have the exact same camera?" She looked horrified. Almost, "B-B-But! Teach! That can't be possible!"

"Which is why I asked if there was a sticker on it, or something." I reminded her pointedly, "In case they did find it—that way, if we run into them we'll be able to tell if it's your camera or not."

She let that sink in for a moment—but before she could say a word, Chloe spoke up, "Do you know how long it would take if that happened?"

"Yes," I answered, looking down—'Be believable'—"But if you say that you're sure in the house—and, I agree, I was with you yesterday, I never once saw you leave it anywhere," he paused, "But—then again—you could have. I suggest checking here first." I glanced behind me, and I was sure only Norma understood what that meant—

"But we looked practically everywhere." Senel sighed, rolling his shoulders, then rubbing one.

"You could've moved it." I shrugged my shoulders simply, glancing around the room in turn, "Maybe when you were moving stuff—so—"

"So?" Norma's voice was borderline acidic—she knew—"What do you suggest we do JJ?" Chloe heard it, Will did too—even Senel, but he looked just as clueless as always.

Chloe was off the stairs in a second, "Move the boxes, right? Clear the floor?"

I nodded my head, "Why not, that's as good a place as any."

And then—I turned—and then—

"You sure you haven't seen it, JJ?" Norma smiled, almost too brightly.

'You're screwed.' But he sounded defensive about it.

"After all—you were with us yesterday. All day. You even walked me home." He simply blinked at her. She let out a frustrated huff.

"I know where it is just as much as you do."

"He's right, Norma." But Shirley was even casting me suspicious glances, "I mean—do you remember putting it back in it's case when you got back to the inn?"

She nodded her head. Then paused. Then rubbed it, "I think so. I mean," she hesitated, glancing at Will—who—

"What did you do?" it was an immediate question.

"N-Nothing! I just," she rubbed the back of her head nervously, "don't…quite remember…what else happened, um,"

Again, "What did you do?"

"I m-met up with some T-Treasure Hunters coming from the main land, um, and we talked about—treasure and stuff?" She tried, though—it was obvious she was making stuff up on the spot.

"Are you sure you didn't show some of your pictures to them?" Chloe sighed, shaking her head from side to side.

"Yes!" Instantaneous.

"Think about it first." That was Senel, looking just a bit peeved.

"Err," and she did, "M-Maybe? I really don't think I did." They glared at her even harder, "Okay—okay I might have brought it with me! But if I did then I'm sure I put it back! E-Even though," she lowered her voice, "i-it was on the table, and somehow it wasn't there in the morning." She hesitated—then—because she realized—

'Yup, she is an idiot.'

"And you really wanted to blame me?" I cocked my head to the side, innocently.

She opened her mouth to retort—but Chloe cut her off, "Honestly Norma, just because he decides to be nice to you for once yesterday—and immediately you're suspicious the day after. That's horrible."

"But!" Norma flailed, almost, "I –he really could have! He has reason to!"

I blinked, "I do?" but dammit if she ever so help me –

'You've got blackmail on her too, right?'

'Well I could say what she did last night. Since it counts as—' I didn't even get a chance to finish the thought before she tried, vainly, to explain herself—

"Yeah—I took some pictures of ya when you weren't looking." She grinned proudly.

'So she wouldn't stoop that low.'

But then, at this point, she probably knew I already knew what went down last night. Information dealing and all.

"You did?" I pretended to flare—it was easy enough, "Why?"

"Because you looked cute." She drawled, almost like that idiot Bandit—

'Heart beat racing again.'

And she had that knowing look on her face.

"Without me knowing?" She nodded her head, "And if I didn't know then—how does that help your argument?"

She started flailing again. Deadpanning—anything.

"He has a point Norma," Chloe was glaring daggers at her, Will coupling the look, and Senel more than giving an equated look. Shirley just looked nervous.

"No he doesn't—you could be lying!" She tried to point an accusing finger at me.

"And why would I lie?" It was the truth. Sort of.

'Hypocrite.' The voice nearly reprimanded, but sounded too amused to pull it off correctly.

"Because—"

I let out an annoyed sigh, "Look—if you're just going to accuse me without even trying to pull off a good basis for the accusations then I'm leaving." I looked her straight in the eye, trying to keep my face as straight as possible, despite the inane laughing going on in my head. "I have work to do, as well, you know."

She opened her mouth to say something—but before she could even say a word—I had turned on my heels—and was through the front door—

But.

Then.

HE

Showed up.

"Get out of my way Bandit." I spat, as the redhead looked down at me—amused, surprised and—

"Eh? Y'all were over here?" He ignored me.

I tried to push against his chest, but he just gave me an odd look, a smile, then—"What'cha'll doin' all the way over here?"

"Looking for my camera."

His eyes lit up, "Oh you mean the one—" he glanced at me, swallowed what his sentence was going to be—for once—"that y'had with you yesterday?"

"Yes that one!" She flailed, again—I was sure of it, but I didn't bother looking back. There wasn't a point when her motions were so readable.

'Yours are right now. You're flushing like a school girl. Don't turn around.'

I swallowed resolutely, "And she happens to blame it's absence on me. Which, obviously, isn't true. Now if you excuse me." Before he could glance down again—I was trying to shove past him, and trying to control the blush forming heatedly on my cheeks.

"But you could help!" Norma spat.

"I have work to do." I tried not to look at them. But the damn Bandit saw—too clearly—

"Really, now? It's about ta rain though." Like that was an excuse.

"So?"

"An' it's supposed t'get real bad." What was he imploring?

"Then you best stay inside—where the thunder isn't so loud." I snapped. He flinched, but he did move aside.

But—I heard—ever so quietly under his breath—"The monster's're gettin' really riled up, though." He raised his voice, "I don't think this ain't no normal storm. I think it's big."

I paused my steps, and looked back at him, everyone was looking at him now, he had raised his voice.

"I saw the clouds," he explained, "I've only seen clouds that big once 'er twice in m'life. Ain't nothin' good ever comin' outta 'em." The others looked marginally worried now—especially Will, "I was jus' down at th' port a second ago too—the sailor's are all riled up too—sayin' the ocean's too rough t'sail on."

"They're closing the ports." Senel muttered, silently, "That isn't good."

"No it ain't," The Bandit agreed, "Tha's why I came 'ere." He looked over at Will, "I was expectin' ya ta be with Hattie, but—I told 'er she should prob'ly wait in the basement, when the clouds come."

Immediately Will was even more worried, "What? It—it—" he shook his head and moved past—giving Norma a clear view of me, but her eyes had glazed over slightly, she was worried too.

The Bandit moved past readily, for him—letting him step out—and then, explaining, "Y'can't really see the clouds clearly from town, but—go down t'the port, or somethin'. Or go t'the cliff. You'll be able t'see 'em then. They're a little ways off, but th'fact y'can see them is a bit," He was searching for the word—

Will filled it in for him, "Disheartening?" He strained his eyes in the direction of the port—creases forming against his brow, "Yes, I'd say it is." He stopped trying to look, and turned his head back.

"There's never been bad weather on the Legacy before, has there?" Senel spoke up, stepping out into the yard as well, concerned, "That's—odd."

"It seems to have the natural ability to avoid it." Will shrugged, then turned to me, "Doesn't it?"

I shrugged my shoulders, turning my eyes to the sky as well, "Possibly. It moves faster in warmer water, at least. And that's where most of the storms form."

"So we might just miss it?"

"I don't think so." The bandit was oddly serious for once—so much so—he was speaking without the slurr. For once, "The clouds were comin' straight at us, an' it ain't exactly too warm now."

"But it's getting there." I sighed, "And that's all it needs to create a storm."

Pensive silence…was very pensive.

"I just wanted t'warn ya." The Bandit continued, "An'—Jay—I don't think it'd be best if y'left town. Just in case."

I turned my head towards him. General concern was there—along with—something that any 'brotherly'—real, or forced—relationship had, but—not as deep—

"I'll be fine."

"The cave might flood." It was in his voice now. Will turned to look at him—Senel did too, but he didn't get it.

Shirley, Chloe and Norma came up behind him, standing in the doorway. He took one step toward me, "If y'want y'can run real quick t'tell yer family, but hurry back. With a storm like this—"

"You never know when it'll hit." Senel concluded, glancing at Shirley, who quickly made her way out into the lawn as well, grasping his hand. He pulled her close—

I tried to politely ignore the pained look on Chloe's face as he did that.

"We lived by the coast most of the time," Senel explained—even though I had already guessed, and I'm sure Will had already done his research on him—now, after everything was over with—"because of my work, and the storms would get really bad. Lots of flooding, people drowned." Shirley pressed closer, worried, "But now we're on a ship. I think we'll be fine for the most part, but I don't want to take any chances."

After all—it was easiest to be careful, right?

Of course.

-Two Hours Later-

"Did you have to follow me?"

'Yes he obviously had to.'

"O'course!" The Bandit agreed—unknowingly, of course—"Even if yer the strongest man alive—killin' all the monster's that attack ya'd be a hard feat for anyone to achieve."

"Even a fearsome Bandit as yourself?" I taunted, "Oh, and an Assassin like me?"

He looked pained, but for only half a second. We stopped at the mouth of the cave—true, we could have taken the duct. But I had wanted to lose him. It had been my fault we had lost some time to walking—and peered in. Immediately I could feel that something was wrong.

"Jay!" One of the Otters—Lizzy, or something, she was one of the newer members, having been born nearly two years ago—"Jay! Poppo was looking for you!"

I raised an eyebrow, "Really? I was expecting as much." I turned to Moses—but he looked hell bent on following me, "Don't get in my way. And please don't scare them." Because he had before, intentionally or not.

I turned back to the otter—she too, had cowered away on initial view of the wild man behind me, "Where are they?"

"At your house." She squeaked, taking a few steps back, "Um, but I—"

"Go to your mother." I smiled, and she immediately relaxed, "There's going to be a storm soon, as I'm sure you know." She nodded her head, fur bristling slightly, "Don't get separated." Another firm nod, and she scampered off—casting me, and the Bandit—a worried look—before disappearing behind one of the shops.

"You're still nicer to those things than y'are to humans." I glanced back over my shoulder—at the redhead. He was blinking, almost sad.

"I do hope you don't consider yourself human." He flinched at that, "I was thinking more of dog when I saw you."

"Then I was thinkin' more like Cat when I saw you."

I would have hissed at him, but that would have more than proven his point—"But he's got a point." The voice laughed, "You would look cute in cat ears."

"Now's not the time." I realized a second too late that I had spoken that out loud and—ignoring his confused look, I turned my head back, and started forward—not caring if he decided to follow or not.

I was insanely aware, though, as I journeyed up the short path to my home, how insanely quiet it was, almost tense—or at least, thicker than it usually was—but yet, everything almost seemed normal. But not quiet. Every time I passed a house, I heard rushed talking-explaining, but like—

No one was willing to move their piece yet.

I opened the door to my home and immediately saw Poppo, sitting on one of the pillows, looking over a map I had recently finished. He looked up immediately when he saw me, and almost smiled—or at least, looked very, very relieved.

"Jay!" He cried, then, looking behind me—at the Bandit who had to duck through the door, almost, "And Moses! I was waiting for, well," he looked at me, "Jay—what's going on?" he fumbled towards me, and grasped onto the hem of my shirt—worried—

"A storm." I explained simply, his large eyes widened, "A…much stronger storm. Not like any we've experienced." I was vaguely aware of the redhead nodding behind me, "I don't know what will happen here but—"

"You can't stay." He read it so easily, looking twice as worried, "You'll go back with the human's right? To Werites Beacon?" He clung even harder to me, "You'll be safe there—right?"

I nodded my head, "Hopefully."

"Then take things with you!" he let go for a moment, and waddled back over to the map, "We're—going to try to move some of this stuff, into that safe-keeping place. The water proof vase Pippo made."

I nodded my head, "Good," because there was no way I would be able to clearly map those out again and in such a short amount of time. Well. It was possible, "And the other important papers." He nodded his head, "Not everything—but, you know what's important or not." He nodded once more, and I turned to the stairs.

I didn't even bother to ask why the Bandit still decided to follow me, but.

He did and—I was about to slam the door of my room in his face—but he caught it before I could.

"Jay," he called—and immediately I moved to my bed, then my dresser—opening each drawer and tugging out various articles of clothing, as well as certain books and documents—to give to Poppo.

"Jay." Again—

"What?"

'You really can't wait long, can you?' I tried to ignore the voice, but I still felt the blush. I didn't know what he would ask. And it worried me that I didn't.

"Do y'need any help?" I exhaled and quickly shook my head.

"Why would I ask for your help? You might drop something, or run into something and break it."

I could feel him scowl, but didn't turn my head.

"No I won't," he tried to pout—start an argument, but it was obvious it was the last thing on either of our minds. Even now, he knew he had to be serious. He was the one to bring the bad news, after all.

But then

Of course

He really lacked tact.

"You stole the camera, didn't ya?" I turned to look at him then—I couldn't help it. His pout was gone, replaced by a triumphant grin, "I'm right ain't I?"

"You might be." I shrugged, "I'm sure she'll find it somewhere in Shirley's house—if not her hotel room. You know how she is."

He blinked, "I dun' think she'd be that absent minded though."

I shifted through the drawers, pulling out another shirt, and pants, "Well, she did get drunk last night."

"Eh?"

"And she's seventeen."

"So?"

I shot him a look, "Underaged by Will's rules." I folded the shirt neatly, "She'll get in trouble if he finds that out."

"I'm surprised he don't already know."

"Mm, well he will." I folded the pants now, and moved over to the chair—grabbing the knapsack that hung there, "Which is why she'll try so desperately to find the camera."

"But she won't find it?"

"She will."

"Don't that defeat the purpose though?" I recognized his footsteps, coming closer. He was standing right behind me now—I could see his reflection in the small mirror.

"It would." I looked up at him, but letting my hands concentrate on stuffing the clothes into the knapsack, "Except—she doesn't necessarily want the camera."

"She doesn't?"

"Are you an idiot?" He growled, "She wants the film."

"Film?"

"What the pictures show up on."

"I know that." He snapped, sounding offended—his hands reached out, and grabbed my shoulders, "But—what happened to it?"

I tried to shrug his shoulders off, but he only tightened his grip. I had to answer, "I burned it."

He blinked.

"Now let go."

His grip tightened—again—"Why?"

"Why what?" I tried to shrug them off again, "I need to pack."

"Not that," he tried to explain, "I meant—why'd ya burn it? Couldn't ya just keep it?"

"And I'd want to because?" I raised an eyebrow—

He looked hurt, "It had our first kiss on it!"

I balked—almost—my face was turning red, and I knew it was, "So?"

"So—it was our first?"

I looked down at the knap sack, debating on tying it just to keep my hands busy, "It was for blackmail. It's not—" wait. I hadn't meant to open my mouth.

'But you did.' The voice sang, in the far reaches of my mind—like it was retreating because it knew I'd be angry at him. Which I was.

"It's not what?" He had bowed his head slightly, breath—puffing past my ear.

I swallowed, "It doesn't count." It was all I could manage.

"Really?" Another puff of hot air, "Then—if I kiss ya, now, say, it'd count?"

"I wouldn't let you." I wanted to laugh, but it came out strained—and my face—ears—were burning.

He let out a much more even laugh—a nicer one, maybe if not layered with tense nervousness—because of the situation, "Oh?"

I felt his calloused fingers, rise up to my neck—brushing it lightly—then—he tilted my head back, gently.

"I'm sure I can—y'know. It might be easy." He murmured, leaning his head over mine—and dammit it all—he had a height advantage.

And his lips found mine—calloused and rough, but gentle and warm—I tried not to kiss back. I wouldn't give him the courtesy. I wouldn't. Couldn't—

Then he pulled away. On his own, muscles in his arms tense—"I know y'like me, Jay." It was almost desperate, but not quite.

"Yes, apparently you think I do." Too cold, I knew, but—"That didn't count either." Now wasn't the time for kisses. The hormonal—hormonal—

He looked rejected, "It doesn't?"

"Of course." I managed to slip through his grasp—he had loosened it, thankfully, thinking I might actually participate—

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because," I was a safe distance, across the room, flipping through books now, tossing a few in my pack, before heading, resolutely, towards the door. Though—of course—he saw this—

"Because what Jay?" He demanded, worried, nervous, everything, as he stepped in front of me, "and you'd better have a damn good reason this time."

So I gave it to him.

"It was stolen."

And to say I wasn't a bit proud when I saw his gaping mouth—might be a lie.

But then—

'You're such a liar.' The voice was back again, grinning—like a cat. Or something, 'Stolen? You saw it coming. Please tell me you saw it coming.'

"Still didn't mean I wanted it." I muttered, "The Bandit needs to learn some tact."

"So shouldn't you teach it to him?"

I was going to ask why—but I heard his bumbling steps—right behind me—

"Jay—"

I jumped down the last few steps—noting that, the room was vacant now—and straight for the door—

"Jay!"

But he had longer legs—

And—

Damn

I cursed my height again.

His advantage again—

He had me—firm arms around my waist—he lifted me off the ground, at the same time as he turned me—and—I had dropped the knapsack, on the floor—and he looked at me—worried and—

"I know you like me." He repeated—I felt my face flush, regardless of it all—and mostly because of the position (or at least, I tried to vainly tell myself that).

"And if I do?" I raised an eyebrow—trying—trying—

He laughed a little, choked, and stumbled back again, "Cute. Jay. Real cute. Tryin' t'be dominant. Even now." He squeezed his arms a little tighter around my waist. "But it ain't gonna work."

"Is it?" I would have squirmed-but I didn't see much of a point to it now, "You don't know until—"

He stumbled back a few more steps—till his foot hit the edge the stairs—I yelped—and—"What are you doing?!"

He opened his mouth to explain but—then—"You worried? I won't drop ya." He maneuvered his hands-a-nd—

His arms, brushed, against my backside, lower—until I was sitting on his arms, practically—

Right in plain view of the door—

"I want a kiss." He said, plainly.

"You already got it."

"It didn't count, remember," he laughed, like he caught my faux pas, "I want one—legally."

I didn't get much chance to ponder the hypocrisy of the question—'Since when did a Bandit do anything legally?'

I exhaled, "No. Put me down."

"I won't put you down—till you give me a kiss."

"Don't we have to leave?"

"We'll use the Duct."

"He used his brain?"

I wanted to yell at it to go away

But I didn't.

"You said it was urgent."

"Isn't it better gettin' a kiss here than—with Norma's around?" his lips twitched, "Though her dressin' you up all pretty like was a nice touch."

I debated then—just to see if I could get away with kneeing him in the gut—or chest—he hadn't been aware he aligned me perfectly for that—

'But then he'd drop you.' The voice pointed out—laughing, in that quietly mirthful way, 'And then what a compromising position you'd be in. or—are the Otter's just that Naïve?"

I knew they weren't.

I knew they weren't.

'Besides—it's just a kiss. And no Norma's. He has a point.'

'You're just in this for the amusement, aren't you?'

The voice laughed even harder, 'Oh—well, yeah. Actually. That and it's totally hot.'

I grimaced inwardly—trying hard to mask the blush but—I knew it was too obvious and—

'Oh god.' The voice just got louder, 'They do have a point.'

My shoulders sagged. Just a bit. "True," I had to admit. "Not that I liked it."

"Of course not." He all too quickly agreed. "So—deal?"

I shuddered, trying to mask the blush again because—dammit—I didn't want to give in so easily.

But I did

Anyway

And—

I ran my tongue over my lips again—and leaned forward—'Thank God this isn't my first kiss.'

Or was that unfortunately?

I pressed my lips against his—and immediately he pressed back—I wanted it to be quick but—of course—

When his tongue swiped along mine—I didn't—I wouldn't—I clenched my teeth.

Only to have him pull away and whisper in my ear, "But Jay."

"No," I jerked back even further, "We need to leave."

"And t'think y'wanted to stay here."

I glared.

He grinned.

I swallowed.

"One more kiss?" He pleaded, almost, "I'll let you down."

"I'll kick you in the gut." And I think, then he realized that I could, "Hard."

"But—"

"You got your kiss." I hissed, ready to swing my foot forward—and he knew I'd make good on the threat, "Let go."

And he did, reluctantly—let me go. Let me fall, gently, to the floor—I landed on my feet, of course—

But I still kicked him in the gut.

"Fuck."

I resisted the urge to smirk, "Well—you did deserve it."

All the while the voice in my head burst into peals of laughter, 'You're such a bloody liar, y'know that?'

'And you aren't making it any better, Den,' I groaned out, silently, 'Not any better at all.'

"But hey." The laughter died down, only marginally, 'It got you to use my name, didn't it?"

And I realized it had.

Oh crap.

"Expect me to be stickin' around a while."

And I heard—Moses—nearly at the exact same time—shout, "Wait for me!"

But I tried to ignore it—watch my footing—something—I heard the rumble of thunder off in the distance—

"And I'll make sure you fall in love." The voice—Den—added on, through more and more laughter, but truthfulness too, "Even if it takes me to hell and back. You sure as hell need it—"

Then I tripped—and fell—

And tried to ignore the arms that caught me.

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And in the end I somehow manage to give it some sort of plot? O.o –still isn't sure how she does that-

But ANYWAYS, Reviews would be lovely (if you decide to throw them at me), yes I know I've been dead in this section for a while...but this is (most likely) going to be a series of 'tag' fics...so maybe I'll become more active? (If people, of course, like this oneshot) Who knows?

-tags Rebe and runs off-