A/N. Hi again! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! THEY MADE MY MONTH! :D Watch out, though. There's probably a lot of mistakes in this, because I was too tired to reread it... oh well!

Since I forgot this in the last chapter, ehem;

DISCLAIMER: I AM OBVIOUSLY NOT MR. SCOTT WESTERFELD, BECAUSE IF I WERE, ALEK AND DERYN WOULD'VE BEEN A LITTLE MORE, WELL, "BUSY" BY NOW! SO THERE.

Chapter 2. (short Barlow POV.)

"Both history and science have proven that it is perfectly natural for such urges to plague a portion of many species', including humans, as you very well know. I believe it is merely a way that "mother nature" controls the population of the species whilst the population of predators is small. Really," she smiled, "there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

Dylan fidgeted, "may I leave now, ma'am?"

Doctor Barlow sighed. The poor boy seemed to be suffering terribly. "Only if you take Tazza for a walk; he's been bouncing up the walls all morning."

He grumbled something unintelligible and grabbed Tazza's leash.

The moment he was no longer in sight, Dr. Barlow marched resolutely and purposefully to Volger's cabin. She glared down the guard before she even reached the door, which she swung open forcefully.

Volger glanced up from his book, unsurprised.

"What are we going to do about them?" she asked, aware of her complete about-face.

"Who?"

"Don't be foolish, you know who I mean."

Volger lifted a brow in amusement. "Alek and…Dylan?"

"Yes, Count Volger; Prince Aleksander and Midshipman Sharp, " Doctor Barlow huffed, an uncharacteristic pout growing unbeknownst to her on her lips. Volger hadn't, she remembered, reacted a great deal yesterday upon the discovery of his charge and Mr. Sharp either.

Volger had been holding back a laugh.

Bauer and Klopp had both looked equally sick to the stomach, seemed to have been fighting back either bile or sobs- there had been really no way to tell.

Doctor Barlow herself hadn't known quite how to react.

And the culprits themselves, still tangled together on the floor, looked most confused of all.

The groups had stared at each other in shock for a long time, mouths agape, eyes like saucers, and complexions ranging from the most ashen of whites, to the deepest rubicund.

Wide-eyed, the Prince turned to Dylan, seemingly to gauge his reaction as well. But as their noses brushed, Alek jumped a good metre away—the first real movement in the room breaking the statue-theme- having apparently forgotten, and been surprised by, just how close they had been.

"Wh-wh-wha-God's wounds! Dylan, you kissed me!"

Dylan had turned red. "You kissed me first! So don't go laying all of the blame on me!" he shouted.

Doctor Barlow raised an eyebrow.

She had long ago noticed how Dylan's voice rose in pitch when he was stressed, but this jump, she thought, had to have been an octave and a half higher than she'd thought possible of a boy his age.

Someone cleared their throat.

"Why don't we pretend, at least for now, that nothing happened?" Count Volger smiled benevolently at the confused boys.

Alex sucked in a terrified breath, and stared at Volger in shock. Doctor Barlow could imagine what he was thinking, because she was thinking along very similar lines herself. She had expected nothing less than shouting, and perhaps a severe thrashing from Volger. After a moment, the Prince nodded, and the young Midshipman eagerly followed suit.

The count knows something more, she had mused.