Author's Note: So sorry that is one is short. The next one shall be longer. I'll warn you, this one contains a cliff hanger. Sorry, I lost muse and wrapped it up quickly. But yeah enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Meet the Robinsons.

Wilbur glared at his fiancé as he sat in the driver's seat of the hovercraft. His arms were crossed across his chest and he sat with the back against the seat. His brown eyes were set on Kolbie's figure as she sat in the passenger side seat. His fiancé was clad in a dress. That was a first for him. He'd never seen her in a dress. It looked nice. The dress was a light blue and looked nice against her newly tanned skin; not that he wasn't found of the pale skin she'd sported prior to her stay with the Donaldson's, it was just that the new tan added to her amazing looks. Her light blue dress was v cut and was a halter top. A small about of cleavage was visible because of the cut; something else that Wilbur liked. The white dress stopped just above her knees when she was standing, so now that she was sitting the dress was slightly shorter. Again, something else that Wilbur liked; glimpses of her toned legs might be what he needed to get him through the night.

"The craft isn't going to drive itself," Kolbie muttered to him. She looked up and smiled. 'Well actually," she reached over to the panel. However, before she could press the auto-drive button, Wilbur swatted her hand away. "That was mean."

"What you did was mean," Wilbur replied through a pout.

Kolbie snorted and leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees and head on the dashboard. "How long do you plan on sitting me in the car with no air conditioning while it's a million degrees outside?"

"Until you cancel sending me to my own personal hell," was Wilbur's answer.

Again Kolbie snorted and leaned her back against the seat again. She ran her fingers through her straight black hair and huffed. Her right hand unconsciously fell to the ring on her left hand. According to Wilbur, she'd been playing with it on and off since he placed the ring on her finger a week ago. He'd said that it was cute, in a sort of paranoid way. He thought it was cute how she spun the ring around on her finger. He'd asked her if it was too big, even though it fit snuggly on her finger. In response, she shook her head and continued to spin the ring on her finger.

"Well then move, so I can drive and then you can sit in the craft, while I eat," Kolbie replied. Wilbur shook his head, stubbornly. His dark haired fiancée groaned, "Why are you doing this?"

He tossed her a look that questioned her sanity and waved his hands around as he spoke. "You were there, it's because of you."

Kolbie felt a stab in her chest. "So you're saying that I ruined your relationship with your father?" Her voice was soft and quiet. She was hurt.

Wilbur noticed that and sighed. He touched her shoulder as he started the craft and backed it out of the space. "I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled onto the street. "I didn't mean it the way it came out. I don't like the way that my father treated you. I don't like how he treated us. I don't like how he separated us," he stroked her hair. "You know how I feel about that. It's not you, it's just the situation, but God knows it's not your fault."

Kolbie remained silent. She had nothing to say. For the first time, in a long time, she was speechless. Her heart; the red muscle in her chest that pumped throughout her body, the part of her that was cold and frozen for so long, the center of her being run completely off emotion, told her it was her fault. It spoke to her as they hover down the road. This. Is. Your. Fault, it said repeatedly. Every four beats, the sentence repeated itself. Her heart knew that the fact that her fiancé and soon to be father-in-law were fighting. He heart knew that if she hadn't opened her mouth and spoken to him then this would have never happened. Wilbur would still be having sex with Brandi and his father would still be able to look at him without being disgusted. Her heart knew that she was the root of the problem. It was like a wisdom tooth. It wasn't the nerve and it wasn't the tooth itself, it was the damn root that was pushing on the nerve. Mr. Robinson was the nerve and Wilbur the tooth, one guess as to what Kolbie was. However, her brain, the mass in her skull that controlled all parts of her body, the part of her that held all of her memories of the cold years, the part of her that ran purely off logic, told her that Wilbur was right. It wasn't her fault that they were fighting. It just happened. It was a chain of events. She was sure that if Wilbur had fallen in love with Brandi, for some mystical reason, and Brandi suddenly became an orphan, he would have done the same for her. That's just how Wilbur was. He gave a damn about the people he loved, and the people that didn't give a damn about the people he loved; he didn't give a damn about. It's just how he was. It wasn't her fault. All the math and logic in the world told her that.

"Hey," he muttered to her, pulling the craft into park. "I'm really sorry." He jumped out of the craft and walked to Kolbie's side, opened the door and then gently pulled her out. "I'm really sorry," he kissed her left hand. She still said nothing. "Really, really sorry," he kissed her cheek. She still didn't respond, but in the faint light he could see a smiled. "Really, really, really, sorry," he kissed her lips. "Forgive me?" he begged.

"Fine, but just this one time," she responded finally. "Be nice," she stated as the two walked towards the door.

Before the raven-haired couple reached the door, Spike and Demetri appeared from the post and smiled at them. Wilbur sighed and shook his head.

"I don't believe that you met them during your last stay," Wilbur muttered to her. "Spike and Demetri," he introduced respectively, spike on the left, therefore first, then Demetri on the right. "They're twins."

"Wilbur!" the twin shouted.

"Ring my doorbell," Spike shouted.

"No, no ring mine," Demetri said over him.

And thus the argument began. Back and forth. Wilbur sighed and pulled Kolbie with him as he walked between the two plant pots and knocked on the door. The twins were amazing, as if no one had ever just knocked on the door. They grew silent then and sunk back into their terracotta colored ceramic pots. Lefty, then answered the door. Kolbie shifted her body behind Wilbur, as she always had when she saw the octopus butler. She didn't like him, he was big and purple, the color of day old bruises. He had a yellow eye, why yellow. Wilbur shielded her as they walked into the house.

"You know, one day, you're going to have to get over that. Thanks, Lefty," he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but not right now, Wilbur. Right now, I'm still trying to ingest the fact that you have a huge purple octopus as a butler. Is that okay with you?" she inquired quietly.

Wilbur sighed and stopped short of the dining room doors. "Are you sure, we can always turn around and get takeout," he offered. Kolbie shook her head as she pushed him forward. "My treat?" he offered again. She shoved him again, and his hand was on the handle. "Fine," Wilbur muttered as he pulled the door open.