waves this is Jammes. Lotte introduced this whole story, but I just wanted to mention it is modern day, although I'm pretty sure you already got that. oh well.

enjoy reading!

"Try that one more time and you'll wish you were dead," Tarja announced coldly as Murtagh tried to kiss her neck.
"Oh, come on. I'm just looking for some fun." She just rolled her eyes.
"Tag, we've been through this. I play for keeps. Not one night stands. Especially not with friends." He sighed, sitting back down beside her, watching her work on the computer.
"Thats the problem with you. All work and no play. So serious" This could almost have been a comical statement, had Tarja not given him such a harsh look. With black and purple hair, she was anything other than serious, especially clothed in her megadeath T-shirt, cut down to fit her slight form, the ripped black skirt and knee high socks.
"Say that one more time and I'll attack you with my blue lipstick. And I'll stop letting you use my eye liner." Murtagh just shrugged. He too was hardly an average teenager. A day never passed that he was not clothed in black and his nonchalant attitude hid his inner genius.
"Hows the new computer virus going?" He asked, looking at the screen filled with jargon before them.
"I just need you to double check them, and the government computers will never know what hit them."
"Dancing shakespeare heads...very creative. But, you do realize he'll know." Tarja sighed.
"Fine, change it." Grinning darkly Murtagh took the laptop from him, typing franticly for a moment."
"Done," he said after a moment of proof reading."
"Barbie? You changed it to Barbie?" Tarja asked exasperated.
"They haven't made those since like 2007."
"Exactly."
"Whatever. It will just take a moment to upload to the government sight." She paused, biting her lip. "And were in!" Laughing happily she deleted the program from her clip on hard drive before taking it out and tossing it into the garbage. "We should be happy. Thats the second one this month."
"We're really going to have to find a better prank. Eventually they'll catch on." Tarja just shrugged.
"Like my dad cares enough to bother himself about what I do?"
"Poor little princess."
"call me that one more time and you loose all rights to calling yourself a man."
"You know those are idyle threats. Your a pacifist whos terrified of blood."
"And your just a regular Richard the Third. 'Good wombs hath born bad sons.' I guess shakespeare got your card right."
"Can't you quote someone from this century?"
"Guess what play," she laughed, Standing up to put her lap top in her case.
"I hate literature."
"And I hate you. Guess what play!"
"Faust?" She glared at him.
"I should kill your for that."
"You know, you make it look easy to be the daughter of the most hated man in the world."
"I try," she sighed, flipping her curly, multi colored hair over one shoulder.
"You know, you'd actually be pretty if you wore colors."
"And you'd actually be intelligent if you -," she trailed off. "Nope. Impossible. You couldn't be smart if you tried." Murtagh shrugged, knowing her too well to respond to her insults.
"So whats up with this dinner your dad wants me to go to." Tarja shrugged, pulling her hair back in just the perfect way so the purple streaks could not be seen.
"Donno. You expect me to know whats inside his twisted mind." He mood suddenly turned dark, as she began to undress before they returned to the castle/white house. The half naked girl before him hardly phased Murtagh. They had been friends since the day she first punched him in the nose. She had been four. Never once had they considered each other for romantic partners. Well...maybe...but that was a long time ago.
"Well, you are his daughter," he responded as she worked her way into a lavender dress.
"Yeah, but I can't help that. And neither could you."
"Hey, Brom did me a favor by killing Morzan." Tarja laughed.
"I wish I could say the same. Ready?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"I wish we didn't have to go back. I wish we could just run away." Murtagh stopped walking.
"Run away?"
"Yeah. Where we could live our own lives away from this big brother society."
"They'd find us." Tarja sighed.
"Never mind, ok? Last time I ever tell you my dreams."
"Tarja," Murtagh wined. She just held up a hand and walked away in a dignified manner.
"I am the dictators daughter and I do not converse with the boushwar." Murtagh looked at her for a long moment before laughing. "Oh shut up," she giggled, shoving him as they made their way back home.