So I kinda had this idea for a short little moment involving a truck, and it kinda happened to be with me and this guy, so I kiiiiinda just pushed it onto Kaz and Skylar instead of trying to write a real life fic for myself. Because I've done that before, and I don't want to go there again.

Oliver's probably gonna seem OOC because I definitely think I wrote him like that, and most of this is just shit. I had an idea, I wanted to write it, so I did. Probably should've written my essays due next week, but hey. Oh well.


It really was quite lucky that Davenport had tons of extra money to go around, even more so that Oliver had a good head on his shoulders and decided to buy a truck with it.

Admittedly, most of the Force used walking as our main mode of transportation, but that could get a little annoying. It just didn't have the same appeal as driving around for hours on end to shop with my two best friends. Even when one of them had a diminishing crush on me and the other…was a total mystery, to be honest.

That Saturday, the initial idea Kaz had come up with was to go to the several surrounding malls and throw pretzel bites at the food court employees – and admittedly, the suggestion put a smile on my face – but in the end we all agreed that simply spending Davenport's money would be just as fun and less rude. More like poetic justice, as if ransacking Davenport's bank account even more than we already had would make his ego go down a notch.

As I laid in the backseat with the wind blowing my hair around, Kaz driving and Oliver riding shotgun, I felt rather calm. Actually shopping with two guys wasn't the best plan, as neither of them had any clue what fashion was and usually wandered mindlessly to the lingerie section more often than not, but just the fact that all three of us were together put a smile on my face. I liked Chase and Bree just fine, but I hardly had any time with just my guys anymore.

Another thing that had kept us from inviting them along was the fact that they had recently come to terms with how they weren't really siblings – not blood-related, anyway – and that had triggered some hormonal reaction they both had been putting off for years. Whenever Bree walked downstairs in a formfitting outfit, Chase had to get up pretty quickly and head to the bathroom under the pretense "I had something bad to eat." And whenever Chase showed his rough, stronger side, Bree crossed her legs and bit her lips, face heating up as if she had applied too much blush that morning. In whole, there was so much sexual tension in the penthouse that if we didn't give them some forced alone time, they'd soon have a full-out shagging session in front of everyone because they'd never have a proper instance to discuss anything (or release the tension; whichever came first).

Plus, Chase and Oliver had been in a little girl fight.

"It's not a girl fight!" Oliver protested while Kaz chuckled, eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror showcasing his genuine amusement much more than a single laugh could. "He thinks I broke his new Hyperlift upgrade on purpose, and I think he's ridiculous."

I snorted involuntarily, glancing out the window and simultaneously stretching my back out on the seat. "Yeah, because how were you supposed to know that eating pizza on a super expensive touchscreen desktop was a bad idea?"

"Hey, it does make a good plate," Kaz piped up, teeth poking through his thin smile.

I scooted forward a bit and lightly touched the back of his seat with my shoe. "Yeah, of course."

Suddenly Oliver was leaning forward (from what I could tell in my peripheral vision) and pointing, saying, "Get into that lane!"

Apparently we almost missed it because in the next second I was tumbling onto the floor and getting a face full of carpet. I heard a muffled laugh from the driver's seat, and then Oliver was leaning around his seat to give me an arm up. We were just pulling into an Apple store's parking lot as I climbed back up onto the backseat, glaring daggers at the side of Kaz's face.

Oliver quickly shoved open his door and held up his phone. "Okay, I shouldn't be gone too long, but the home button's not working and I'm going to be screwed over if I don't get this checked out." With that, he was gone, and I was still thoroughly annoyed.

Kaz turned in his seat to smirk at me. "How was that fall?"

I stared blankly at him, brushing off my pants. "I don't know; how's your driving?"

His smile stretched. "Amazing? Exceptional?"

My lips turned up in a condescending manner. "Awful. Horrendous, actually."

He laughed. "Why thank you." I shifted my body to pick at my shoe, which now had a wrapper stuck to the bottom of it, when he spoke again. "Hey, why don't you come sit up here?"

I glanced up. "Ha. No."

"Aw, c'mon, Sky, what's wrong?" Everything, everything about him in that moment screamed that he thought he was hilarious, and I really didn't want to hear that tone much longer.

I sighed and put a hand on my hip, staring him dead in the eyes. He was definitely trying to get on my nerves, but a tiny part of his face gave away that he actually wanted me up there. I don't know how I could analyze him so easily, but it was evident I was reading him correctly. So I caved.

I always ended up caving with him.

"Well I'm not crawling up there, let me tell you that," I stated, hoisting myself up onto the center console, back facing the rearview mirror. I turned to make eye contact with him, one foot pressing against the backseat row for leverage.

Kaz grinned at me and tilted his head up, turning in his seat slightly. "You could've gotten out of the truck and hopped in shotgun."

I scowled, fighting the heat rushing to my face. I never reacted so quickly to teasing, but Kaz had a special way with me. "Yeah, and you could've jumped in the backseat if you wanted to talk to me."

He shook his head, almost subconsciously lifting a hand. "I wanted to see if you got hurt from your little...incident."

As if my falling onto the floor was something worthy enough to be seen as an "incident." It was his fault anyway; the momentum just pushed me. I had a really good retort, I swear I did, but he laid his raised hand high up on my leg and it got lost in translation. I opened my mouth to say–something dumb, probably, but he beat me to it.

"No scratches?" he asked, voice dropping an octave involuntarily. I could tell he hadn't made the switch on purpose, but then his eyes were running down my legs and across my arms, inspecting me like a patient at a doctor's appointment, and I figured he must have been as distracted as I was right then.

"Like I'd get scratches from sliding off a seat," I tried to scoff. It came out sounding pretty realistic, but there was an almost, almost inaudible airiness to my tone. I lifted my left arm and ran my fingers through the right half of my hair, flipping some of it to the other side of my head. This caught his attention.

"Wait, wait," Kaz muttered, shifting in his seat more. He fiddled with the seatbelt until it came undone and he could lean closer to me, which he did immediately. "Lift your hair away."

"No, why?" I questioned, sounding more defensive than I would've liked. He was entirely too close for my brain to think straight, and it was making me feel a bit wonky.

"Skylar, I think I saw something, now move your hair," he nearly spat, facial expression contorted.

My first reaction was to clutch my hair and be childishly stubborn, but there was something about the way his eyes were squinted when he looked at my neck that made me move my hair aside.

In a single moment his soft fingertips were on my neck, and he traced a mark I hadn't felt until then. My throat was constricting, I could feel it, but I didn't say anything.

"Damn it, you have a scratch." His eyes were softening rapidly and his tone made it easy to assume he knew this was his fault, that he wasn't okay with it.

"I have a scratch?" I repeated back, unsure of what else to say. Under normal circumstances I would've snapped and blamed him, but he was breathing on my neck and my mind was traveling places I still might not want to admit to.

He stuck out his tongue and placed his thumb on it for a second before moving it back to my neck. I felt the spit move across my cut and nothing along the lines of gross, disgusting, or weird jumped into my head. A lot of…other adjectives popped up instead. "And some dried blood," he muttered, rubbing his thumb across my skin.

I felt like I was spinning, and I twisted until I could see his eyes, focused on a spot I couldn't see myself. "Not bad, right?" I wasn't particularly worried, but I was also amazed I could respond coherently.

His thumb slowed a bit and he glanced up to meet my eyes. "No, not bad at all, just…" He sighed and the rubbing stopped completely, locking gazes with me once again. "I'm sorry, Sky."

My mouth wouldn't work for a moment, and my common sense had already flown out the window, so a few seconds passed before I could form words. "Kaz, it's not even a big deal–"

"I didn't want you to actually…" His hand should have lifted from my neck at this point, but it didn't. "Get hurt…" I shouldn't have been bent downward, but I was. "Especially because of me…" His voice shouldn't have drawn me in even more, but it did.

"You didn't mean to," I breathed out, entirely aware I sounded aroused and wholly positive he wouldn't hold it against me. I hadn't meant to, but my mouth pushed out, "You never mean to," before I could think it over.

Kaz's eyes widened for a moment and I caught onto the hooded gaze he was trying not to show. "I never want to hurt you," he simply stated.

My lips parted to say something, and then I promptly swallowed it. I looked into his eyes and felt myself ducking down even further. In a second my eyelids had fluttered shut and I could feel his breath against my lips. I could sense a barrier being broken just before it could happen –

And then the car lurched forward an inch.

I jumped up and hit my head off the roof, biting back a curse and trying hard not to shrivel up and die right there. I took a quick look at Kaz, and then couldn't look away. His eyes showed surprise and a tiny bit of anger – presumably at the guy who was now walking back to the truck, but also at himself. I could just see the tip of his shoe move away from the gas pedal, and everything about his aura said regret.

Oliver swung open the passenger side's door and settled into the seat, pulling at his buckle. "I spent ten minutes in that place talking to an employee and they still didn't fix my phone because they don't 'know what the problem is.'" He groaned loudly and pulled at the sun visor, readjusting himself. Only then did he actually look at my face. "You alright, Skylar?"

My eyes were focusing in and out and all around and not at all. I couldn't see Oliver one hundred percent correctly, and I could've sworn I sensed Kaz's hand twitch, like he was going to grasp for me but decided against it ultimately. I took in a breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just pissed at the tech guys for you."

He smiled for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, me too." As I began to move soundlessly to my actual seat, I avoided eye contact with Kaz as Oliver started up again. "Maybe if Chase will actually talk to me, he'll fix my phone for me."

The ride home was full of him chatting aimlessly, and even though it was only seven minutes, the time I spent in there felt a lot longer. The air was charged with a restless energy, and I felt almost compelled to look in the rearview mirror; but I didn't. I couldn't allow myself.

I did, however, let myself lock gazes with Kaz for the briefest of moments once we all climbed out of the car. And in his eyes I knew of one thing for sure.

He had wanted to continue too.


I'm not even sure what this was, but I think we all have fantasies of these little moments between our favorite ships, so why not write them?

Review please!