Disclaimer: I don't own Chloe, Derek, Simon, Tori, Andrew, or the safe house. I don't even own the tree in this chapter; I borrowed it from my neighborhood park. I don't own any of it but the plot -- which pales in comparison to the real thing.

A/N: Here's the last chapter. I'm honestly surprised with it. I knew I was going from point A to point B, I just wasn't sure how smooth the going would be. The flow feels right to me, but you guys are the real judges. I hope you like it as much as I do. I haven't had so much fun in ages!

Thanks for reading! - Chrissa

---

Underdog
by Bewitching

Chapter Three

---

I admit it. It was a total damsel-in-distress move, and I will never live it down. But Simon was staring at us, and Derek was stone-still, and I felt like I was the only one breathing anymore. I was back in the zombie movie, only this time the zombies weren't mine to control. They were foster brothers, my friends, all waiting on me to react. The kiss was out of the forest. Simon knew. Now what?

So I ducked around Simon and into the house, thudded up the stairs to the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I only barely heard Andrew's door squeak open and him ask the darkened hallway, "What is going on out here? It's five in the morning!"

I didn't answer him, couldn't answer him. Simon and Derek were probably still staring, still still, while my own head was floundering for air. I glanced in the mirror, and my cheeks were bright red.

The sun was starting to rise as I sat on the toilet and looked out the window. Tori was right, there was a good view of the forest. Only this time, as I let myself be mesmerized by the morning light dancing between the leaves, I wasn't ready to go running anywhere. The forest was friendly, but in a jeering way, like it had tricked me into thinking it safe. The truth was is that there was no real way to find your way in it, unless you paid close attention. Far from ironically, it reminded me of Derek.

I switched rapidly to other things. For the time being, I did feel safe. The walk through the woods had convinced me of that. If anyone was coming to find us, Derek would know about it, and we'd find the best way out.

That is, if I was even worth keeping in the little band of genetically mutated freaks. Personally, I was beginning to think I was more trouble than I was worth.

It might've been one hour or four, but a hard rap on the door jarred me into the present. "Chloe? Are you in there?" Simon. I couldn't answer. Every drop of blood available to me was rushing to my face, and my muscles stopped working. "Chloe? Open up. Please?"

I was still sitting on the toilet when he picked his way in, probably by spell. He came in with a hand over his eyes. "Are you decent?"

I wasn't so sure of that anymore, but he was in the room now, covering my only escape. My voice was raspy when I replied. "Yeah."

He shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he dropped his hand, blinking in the sunrise glare. "Can we talk?"

I raised an eyebrow as I stared at the floor. "Unless I jump out the window, I don't have a choice. You're blocking my way out."

He stepped aside, leaning back over the tub, giving me space. "I'm not holding you hostage. You can go if you want."

I didn't move. I didn't want to have this conversation just yet, not when I didn't know what I wanted anymore. This was not the way Simon should've found out. Or was I being presumptuous again?

He straightened, and took a seat across from me on the edge of the tub. My eyes were inspecting my shoes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look like it," he said, with an amused twinge of sympathy. "Actually, you look like you want to puke."

"My vomit reflex is in perfect shape, Doctor. Thanks for your concern."

He chuckled, wringing his hands as we sat there. Part of me wondered what the problem was. Simon liked me, right? Why not give him a shot? He was looking at the floor now, thinking, so I let myself examine him. He looked tired. Not as tired as Derek or I, but thoroughly exhausted, and there was a rough edge to his movements, like he was forcing them out.

He was uncomfortable. I didn't blame him. He'd just found out the girl he maybe sorta liked had been kissing his brother. But Simon wasn't the type to hide away from a problem, so he'd sought me out and found me on a toilet looking close to spewing. I couldn't figure out a way to make it easier on him other than to say something.

"I'm sorry."

He looked at me like I'd sprung a leak in my brain. "About what?"

I raised an eyebrow. Simon Bae may not be in advanced trigonometry, but he's not an idiot.

He sighed. "Look, I did like you. I do, still," he added, and I flushed. That was the first time anyone ever said something remotely like that to me, and it made my heart do acrobatics despite who I wanted to hear it from.

I'll admit it. I liked Derek. I didn't know how much or how serious, but I liked him as more than a friend. And that was more than I liked Simon.

He went on. "But if you aren't interested--"

"I was," I said. He had to know at least that much. "But... I don't know. Priorities changed when I got to Lyle House... Or maybe after we left."

"Same here," he said. He glanced up at me, a short and meaningful smile on his lips. I blushed and looked away.

"You're a great guy, really, but..."

"But not what you're looking for."

I met his eyes again. He looked sad, but not heartbroken. He didn't know me well enough to be heartbroken. I didn't really expect him to be, I just expected him to be a little more... angry.

But that's the cliché from every movie, isn't it? Life isn't really like that.

"No. I guess not."

He nodded, sitting up. "Gave it my best shot," he said, smiling until he got a small laugh out of me. Then he sighed, looking slightly better, but something was still bothering him. Simon gave off vibes like that. Or maybe it was just in the fidgeting.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, brushing it off. I didn't think I had the right to pester him, but I didn't need to. He was spilling anyway. "It's just Derek."

My heart stopped. They were going to leave me behind. "What about him?"

He bit his lip. Then, leaning forward, he whispered, "Derek's insisting that we... you know, try."

I frowned. "Try what, dating?" He nodded. That damned campfire, it just would not go out. "That's not fair to me or you."

"Or him," Simon added in a quiet mumble. "That's what I told him." He muttered that to himself, annoyed that he was being given orders to date a girl who didn't want to date him. Then he laughed. "You know, you might be good for him."

"How come?"

He shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off his face. It was the I-know-all type of smile, the ones the best friend always gives the hero right before they cheer them up. I felt a tiny bit better, thinking Simon and I would be good friends. Maybe not best friends, but better than most. "Someone's got to convince him he's not a total monster, you know? He listens to you."

I snorted. "I think he hears me only when he needs me to do something."

Simon waved his hand, wiping the comment away almost like a Jedi would Force away a Storm Trooper's intentions. "He listens, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"It's not hard to understand him," he said, then as an afterthought, "Hard to get to know him, sure, but he's my brother. I barely had to guess. Every conversation we have has a mention of you." I felt my cheeks going slightly red again, and Simon pretended not to notice. "Okay, most of the time it makes sense, because we're in this situation," he gave, "But when we're talking about something else, like how we'll find Dad, he'll start talking about you and your dad's reward, how he's looking for you."

I wanted to believe Simon, but those could be explained away, and the flavor of rejection had me spewing out reasons. "That makes sense though, your dad and my dad. It's a related topic."

Simon actually smirked, weaving his fingers together slowly. "Not for Derek. He's not like that."

"So he talks about me. That doesn't prove anything."

Simon looked at me as if I was saying that the big yellow orb in the sky didn't prove the existence of the sun. "Derek is prone to forgetting a girl's name, Chloe. And he knows more than your name." He looked away at this, feeling awkward, but allowing me to think.

My gut was telling me that Derek felt something. Not in the crazy romantic comedy way, when people kiss and the world spins the right way or fireworks shoot off behind your eyelids. But I felt something when he kissed me, and it was something so simple that I didn't understand why I hadn't figured it out, or why he didn't want more of it.

When Derek kissed me, I felt comfortable.

Simon cleared his throat, speaking up. "He doesn't know what he's doing," he said, almost laughing, and I understood why. How often did Simon know something that Derek didn't? "He's new to it."

"So am I," I mumbled, and Simon, like any guy would, fidgeted again, and avoided going down that road.

"But he's a fast learner," he continued, clearing his throat.

I sent him a deadpan stare. "Sometimes, I seriously doubt that."

Simon laughed so loud the panes of the grimy window shook, distorting my vision of the forest, but somehow showing me what it really was. Just a forest.

One I was willing to navigate.

---

I went to my room and slept. Nobody woke me, not even Tori, who I guessed was still planning ways to use her knowledge to her advantage. I was out until half past noon, when Tori came in and shook me awake for lunch.

The five of us ate in silence, but Derek was sitting at the counter now, behind me. Halfway through my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I glanced at him. He averted his eyes.

Simon actually snorted.

Andrew wanted to keep us busy until he could arrange for his friends to visit, so we cleaned again. Tori and I did our room, and the boys did theirs. It was dark by the time we really finished, and dinner time. This time, Derek sat in the living room with his food, going over the few supernatural reference books Andrew kept in the study. When I finished dinner, he was gone, up the stairs and hiding in his room. He was in such a rush that he left his empty plate on the coffee table.

I took it back to the kitchen, and washed the dishes alone.

Whatever this was, I needed to talk to him about it at least once more. I deserved the explanation. It was stupid of me to think otherwise, and even stupider (if that's even a word) of him to deny me the right.

So I waited. I waited all night, after everyone went to bed, trying to fake sleeping noises in case he was listening. Eventually, I heard the creaking of the floorboards as he passed the door. Not his footsteps, which I'd never really heard, but the little squeaks of complaint from the wood gave him away. I froze, barely breathing, hoping to catch him off guard. It wouldn't be easy.

As soon as I knew he was out of the house, I climbed out of bed and made my way to the forest.

It was dark. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, only instead of escaping the wolf, I was searching him out. And I guess there is the slight hitch in the fact that I highly doubted Derek would dress up like my grandma, even if you paid him.

I fumbled in the general direction we had gone the other morning. I kept looking for markers, things Derek had paused to examine, but I couldn't see anything in the black blanket created by the forest's canopy. I started to panic, looking to my left, which I thought was the direction of the house.

But I was in deep enough that the clearing was out of sight.

I freaked, doing the first thing that came to mind: give the signal. I tried whistling, but I couldn't duplicate the piercing note of Derek's, so it didn't carry as far. But he'd hear me. I knew he would. It was too quiet for him not to, and I couldn't be that far off course.

A minute passed. Then five. Then ten.

Or maybe I could.

I whistled again as loud as I could muster, still fumbling through the trees, trying to keep it cool. My heart and stomach and lungs didn't seem to agree with that plan, because they were jostling around like my body was their own personal bounce house. The little light that did give me sight vanished with the moon behind a cloud, and I almost screamed, reminded of the crawl space, flailing my hands in the dark for anything to guide me.

Suddenly everything I was risking was crystal clear: What if the Edison Group was looking for me? What if Derek had already been caught, and that's why he wasn't coming? What if I never got out? What if they had night vision goggles and could shoot me right now? What if they left me out here to die?

THWACK.

I ran right into a tree, the branch catching me in the stomach, and fell flat on my butt. I was so stunned that I couldn't get up, almost hyperventilating in surprise.

Then the moon was back, the breeze that moved the clouds weaving its way through the forest and into my hair, as if to say it was only teasing. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, centering myself. Then I looked up at the offending tree.

Thank god. It was Derek's marker. The one with the rollercoaster branch, the leaves so thick and the branches so tall that it must be the oldest tree here.

I let out a sigh of relief, a crazed chuckle passing my lips with it. If this was one of the markers, then the house must be close.

Only, which way should I go now? I took a deep breath, feeling like an idiot. Derek was my best shot.

I whistled again. Nothing but my own breathing came back to my ears.

Maybe he went back to bed. Maybe I didn't really hear him leave the house. Maybe he doesn't like me enough to find me in the woods.

Now that, while tempting to the unconfident part of my brain, didn't make sense. He'd rescue me from knife-wielding gang bangers and rogue werewolves, but not from a forest?

That was before you kissed him. You changed everything.

Not true. Definitely not true, definitely not everything. I shook off the voice of doubt, knowing he wouldn't do that to me. Not if he really wanted me to be with Simon, anyway. "Derek!" I called, screwing the signal. If the Edison Group really was here, they'd find me anyway. "Derek!"

I imagined him stopping, swearing, following the noise. "Derek!" I scrambled up and sat on the branch, which fit like a swing, barely bending beneath my weight, actually holding me above my normal height. "I know you can hear me!" I shouted, pulling my knees to my chest, then letting them dangle, deciding it would be better if I was poised to run, just in case.

Should I keep talking? He'd need something in order to follow me, right? "I need to talk to you!" I said. "And... And I really would like to get away from these trees soon!"

Yeah, lame. But I was trying to survive, okay?

Snap. I flinched, whirling to my left, almost falling off the branch. I wasn't moving, so the noise wasn't mine to make. "Derek?" I blurted, quieter, nervous. Oh my god, I led them straight to me, they're coming after me, where should I hide?

I felt his presence like a ghost, only I knew it wasn't when he grabbed my arm, his hand very solid, and I screamed.

He clamped a hand over my mouth, fuming, eyes flashing daggers. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he said. "And why are you screaming? What happened to the signal? You could've given us all away!"

I fought for my heart as it tried to run away, scared to rocket ship speeds, and wrenched away from his hand. What was I doing out here again? Oh. "I-I was l-looking for you."

"Why? I sleep three doors down from you, I eat in the same house as you! Why didn't you just--"

"Is there ever a second when I can talk to you alone in there?" I said. "And you've been avoiding me!"

He ignored that, but lowered his voice to a more acceptable level of anger. "You could've gotten lost, or caught, or hurt yourself. You're lucky I heard you. Why couldn't you keep still? I've been following your trail and--"

"What trail? There are no trails!" That was made fairly obvious to me by the fact that I. Got. Lost.

He rolled his eyes, but he was quiet again, sounding tired. "I meant… I meant your scent."

I blushed, feeling stupid. "Oh." In the absurdity, I vaguely wondered what I smelled like to him.

He swore again, giving me the once-over to make sure I hadn't hurt myself. It reminded me of hiding in the coffe shop bathroom, getting werewolf blood off my sleeves, only this time I wasn't sitting on a counter and he wasn't sporting a black eye anymore. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I insisted, "I mean, I did run pretty much headfirst into this tree, but I'm fine, really." He was just about to check my forehead for bruises when I grabbed his face, holding it between my palms. Thanks to the tree, I was almost at his eye level. He looked so shocked that he almost shook me off, swatted my hands away. "No," I said, testing out Simon's 'Derek Listens To Chloe' theory. "You have to talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, just come back to the house."

"No." He narrowed his eyes at me but didn't move, and I supposed he was thinking of the last time he got impatient with me. The finger marks on my arm were gone, and I knew why he did it now, but that was still something to settle between the two of us. He was trying in his own way and I wasn't making it easy for him.

He wasn't listening to me just to hear me. He was also trying to protect me.

I let go, fumbling for a way to word it all. "Derek, I--"

"It doesn't matter, okay? Let it go." It was an order, not a request, and then he pointed to his left, instructing me to move. "We're leaving. Now."

I gripped the tree, staying in place. "No."

"Now, Chloe."

"You'll just have to make me."

This wasn't working the way he hoped, apparently, and it showed when he brought his outstretched hand to the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Chloe, please."

I almost caved. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was more than likely true. But all I wanted was one thing, just the one, and then I'd leave him alone as long as he wanted. My stomach compressed in on itself at the thought, but it was a fair trade. I'd just have to live with it.

I sounded sad and tired when I finally spoke up. "I haven't gotten my explanation yet."

He was instantly sharp again, and I felt the irritation rise off of him like pavement heat. "There's nothing to explain."

If I didn't know any better I'd say he was being a coward. "Huh. And here I thought you owed me. You know, because I stopped Liam when you couldn't. And I stayed with you when you were Changing, both times. And I made sure your brother made it out of Lyle House. I guess that's not worth a few sentences or an apology, though. Sorry for being so stupid."

I was about to slip off the tree when he stepped in front of me, sighing. "Chloe?"

"What?"

"Wait."

I did. It wasn't another demand, and if the saying is true, I wanted him to at least realize that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Someone had to get something out of this.

He stared up at the tree for a full minute before I cleared my throat, prompting him. It was a hesitant start. "You wanted me to promise you something."

"I remember." Hard to forget what was going on during your first kiss. I involuntarily shifted my gaze to his lips, but then back to his eyes again, which still avoided mine.

"You wanted us all to make it out of this okay, right?"

"Yeah."

"I never promised you."

I frowned, not remembering it that way at all, losing my conviction as I blushed enough to be Rudolph the Red-Faced Girl. "I-I t-thought it was a…" I cleared my throat. "A physical agreement."

His eyes dropped down to my own lips, which I was chewing on to keep from saying anything stupid. Then he looked up at me. "I never actually said it. But I promise now. I'm making sure of that."

It didn't make any sense. "What do you mean? I've barely seen you, you've been hiding in your room. You haven't done anything."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"What are you trying to say, Derek?"

It was a wonder he and Simon weren't related by blood. Derek was giving me the same look Simon had that morning, like I was blind to the obvious, or I couldn't speak English. I could speak English, I just wasn't fluent in Derek yet. "I'm leaving you alone. It's better that way."

It was getting to the point where I needed a translator, fixing him with an unimpressed frown. "What's better about being given the cold shoulder?"

He growled again, looking around the forest like the trees might help him explain it better. "Don't you get it? I'm not trying to ignore you, I'm trying to keep my promise. What's so hard about that?"

"You're making me feel like crap, that's what!"

He laughed, breathless, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I'm making you feel like crap? Really. I doubt it's any worse than what you're doing to me--"

"I haven't done anything to you!"

"Chloe, you did everything!" He stepped away from the tree, giving me ample space to climb down, but I couldn't move. This was what I wanted, the uncensored truth, and I wasn't going anywhere until I knew he was done. "You had the guts to stand up to me. You helped me when you hated me. You weren't afraid of me. You convinced Simon to get out of Lyle when he couldn't find me. You found me. You got off the bus, and you stayed when I was Changing. You had to make me promise you I'd be okay, because you actually give a damn." He laughed again, anger brimming around the edges, as if he couldn't fathom what he was saying, and yet he could. Then he faced me, talking so fast that he probably didn't even know what he was saying. "You kissed me. You got that stupid song stuck in my head. You got stuck in my head. You made me feel halfway normal and then you made me crazy, because now I can't think straight when you're around. Simon was interested, not me, but now I want to punch him every time he looks at you. How is that rational? He's my brother, my best friend, but I'd rather be locked in a cell with Tori then let him be alone with you."

It was a role reversal, but I didn't even notice it when I asked him a question, pointing out the hole in his thoughts. "Then why do you want us together so badly?"

"Because as much as I want to practically strangle him every time he holds your hand, I'm not an idiot." Our eyes met, and I could see all the self-deprecating anger and frustration sitting right there on the surface. "He's better for you. When this is all over, Simon is the one who will take you on dates and show you off to his friends and call you every night. Simon is the one that doesn't have to worry about losing it, even for a second, because if I do, I might whip you across the room again. Simon is the one that doesn't have to constantly check himself to keep from hurting you. Simon can't hurt you. I will, and I'm not willing to break my promise to you over something as screwed up as wanting you to myself."

The words echoed in my ears and his, and he was breathing like he hadn't in years. It was out there. This wasn't about him not wanting to hurt Simon. It was about not wanting to hurt me. How to keep from doing it was the question, and Simon was the answer, with an added dose of space between us for good measure. He was still struggling with the guilt of sending one guy to a wheelchair, a stranger and a threat, and if he let me become more important than that, how would he handle it if something just as bad happened? I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out, but something told me I wouldn't have to.

I still had another question. "Why is that screwed up?"

He blinked, shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Because."

No. Not today, Derek Souza. You are not clamming up on me today. "Because it wasn't the plan?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "I didn't exactly plan on this either you know, and you don't see me hiding in my room, hoping it'll go away--"

"No, because you being with a werewolf is as far away from 'okay' as it gets. It's not safe."

The words came back to me from yesterday as I shrunk under his hard gaze. I'm dangerous. I'd known the whole time.

My voice was so soft even I had trouble hearing it. "I'm with you right now. I'm fine. I was with you yesterday. And when we got separated from the others. Nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. That comes with the territory, don't you think? Being on the run the way we are? You won't hurt me, Derek. I trust you."

He stepped forward, using his arms to keep me pinned to the tree. He didn't touch me, just the branch on either side of my hips, but I was stuck unless I wanted to fall backwards into the dirt. Instead, I was leaning forward, listening to his aggravated whispers. "But how do you know? You don't. You can't know."

"Neither can you."

"I can guess."

I didn't miss a beat. "My guess is just as logical."

"Mine is the safer bet."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to find the crack in his resolve. I wasn't going to beat him at his own game, but I could compromise with him, find the middle ground… "I like you," I said, my expression still searching. "A lot. How much do you like me?"

He sighed. "A lot more than a little, okay?"

I bit back the smirk. Bingo. "Then chances are that one of us is going to crack and make a move on the other. If I did this"-- I touched my hand to his --"what would you do?"

He moved his hand out from under mine. The bark beneath my palm felt cold, almost jarring my focus away. We were still having a stare down, daring each other to prove us wrong.

I tried again. "If I did this, what would you do?" I moved my hand to his arm, letting my thumb rest just in the crook of his elbow. His sweatshirt was thin, but I might have been imagining the subtle upward hitch in his pulse.

His arm fell against his side, slowly, and he cleared his throat.

"This?" And then my hand was on his chest.

He didn't move.

"And what about this?" I didn't know where the bravery was coming from, but it surged into my hand and brought my fingertips to his cheek.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. I leaned forward, so close...

"Too close, Chloe." It was another whisper, another dare, another warning.

"What are you going to do about it?"

He tilted his head toward mine, hovering just beyond my reach, breathing so quietly he may have been sleeping. I closed my eyes. Then he exhaled, his breath warm on my lips, inching back. "I'm not the right guy."

I sighed. "That's what the underdog would say."

"What?"

"The underdog. The one everyone thinks is destined to lose, including himself." I opened my eyes, quiet, sad, remembering his question from yesterday. "That's what they'd call you in the movies. The underdog." I focused on his eyes. "I always root for the underdog."

He was a master of the expressionless response. "It's a long shot."

"Which makes it the most satisfying kind of victory when he wins." He was already opening his mouth to argue, but I stopped him, clamping my hand over his mouth like he had done to me a million times already, eyeing him with as serious and final a stare as I could. "You can stop hiding from me. I'll just find you again. I'm not going to run away from you. Because, believe it or not, out of all the places I could be right now, I want to stay right here, where I'm safest, and..." I faltered, swallowed the fear, and met his gaze again. "And wanted."

Finally, I found the crack. He softened, and I held my breath.

I decided it was true. We want what we want when we want it, and it could drive us crazy, but it wouldn't really stop us. Sometimes it didn't work out. Sometimes, you had to wait.

Sometimes, you had to fight for it.

I felt like I'd been waiting and fighting forever when he spoke, almost whispering. "Chloe?"

"Hmm?" I couldn't manage an actual word.

His hands were still on the tree, and he put just enough weight on them to lower the branch until I was almost at my normal height, seeing him from my usual angle instead of eye-to-eye. He looked down at me, very seriously, so much that my heartbeat almost drowned out what he was saying.

"I like you."

"I like you, too."

I watched the internal argument with himself from the outside, but I could hear his gears turning, the various scenarios that might come after admitting this. The pros had to outweigh the cons, the maybes, and even the likelys. I felt like I was going to drown in my own suspense. With all the things he was weighing against us, against me, was there even a chance that he'd let it happen? I thought of the last time we'd been near this tree, the thought I'd had: how could someone so determined have so much defeat in him? He kept closing the premiere before the tickets even went on sale.

And then, surprisingly, he gave me a choice. "What do you want to do about it?"

Oxygen felt foreign as I tried to think past that concentrated stare, snatching the answer out of the back of my mind. "I want you to give us a chance."

Another thoughtful moment of quiet, in which his hand rose to the side of my face, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Okay."

I struggled with the overpowering smile on my face, trying to tuck it away, act cool, don't blow it, just enjoy it, but he cracked too, donning a new smirk that I'd never seen before. I softened, and the smirk grew, enough that I understood it. Optimistic, confident, but most of all... comfortable. Comfortable with me, with telling me these things, with being himself around me. The same things I felt under his gaze. The things that outweighed all the rest.

I grabbed his wrist, holding it in place. "But I have to tell you something."

He frowned. "What?"

My whisper was mischievous. "If you ever call Daydream Believer a stupid song again, I will have Liz throwing everything she can get her hands on at your face until you take it back."

He paused. Then he rolled his eyes. But the smirk was definitely back. "Deal."

We met in the middle, my hands finding their way around his neck as his shifted to my waist, catching up on the last kiss, the one where the fire sat beneath my heart. And this one was ten times better, because we were alone, he wasn't hiding anything, and for once, I could read him perfectly, like a street sign, or a one line screenplay.

Potential.

I don't know how long we kissed before he finally broke the contact, listening intently to the forest around us.

"Time to go in?" I asked, centimeters away.

"They're up, I think. I can hear them."

"Then let's go before Andrew notices we're gone... Or Tori rats us out."

He nodded, picking me off the branch and setting me on the ground. This time, I kept hold of his hand, and he squeezed softly as he led me back through the winding trees and towards the house. The moon disappeared behind the clouds again, but his hand kept me steady in the dark. As the trees thinned, he rubbed his thumb across the top of my hand. I grinned. That alone would probably be enough to last me the whole night.

We stumbled out of the woods into the dark backyard, lit only by a stretching rectangle of light from one of the bedroom windows. Derek looked down at me with tired eyes. He swore.

"What?"

"The rat has spoken."

"Huh?"

But he never got a chance to explain. Just then, a bright flashlight beam landed on our faces. I cried out at the burning and covered my eyes, and Derek audibly winced, but out of all the noises, the ones that caught my ear most were Tori's quiet chuckle and Simon's answering, "shut up!"

The wielder of the flashlight turned it off and crossed his arms, but other than that, all I could see was a big purple-green spot where the light had been. "So, Derek," Andrew said, his voice angry enough to make me swear. "Are you satisfied with the perimeter?"

Derek blinked away his own blind spots, but managed a nod, sighing heavily against the inevitable.

"Good. I'm glad. Because none of you are going to be seeing it for a very, very, long time."

---

An hour later, the four of us climbed the stairs, Derek and I leading the way. Grounded. I couldn't believe it. Out of everything to happen to me, the most unbelievable thing was ending up grounded. Seriously? I just found out I'm a necromancer, and then I found out I'm a genetically modified necromancer. I escaped homicidal scientists, a gilded prison, bloodthirsty werewolves, and even Good Samaritans.

But now I couldn't even escape being grounded. Go figure.

Tori was whining as we came to the door that led to our bedroom. "I don't know why I got in trouble. I was just the informant. And now I'm paying for your stupidity."

Simon rolled his eyes. All four of us were grounded, stuck in our rooms except for meals and bathroom breaks. Derek and I were obviously grounded for sneaking out. Simon was for being an accomplice, and Tori for not saying anything sooner. "You're just mad you never got to sneak out either."

"Oh please," she told him, snorting, even as the small blush rose in her cheeks. She turned to me. "Chloe, whatever the hell you guys were doing out there, I hope it was worth it, because I am not going to be a happy roommate--"

Before she could really start ranting, Derek grabbed my hand, spinning me towards him and planting a long, slow kiss on my lips. Tori made a retching sound, and Simon chuckled as he dropped his gaze to the floor, swerving around us and going on to his room.

Derek pulled away, looking better than ever with that new smirk on his face. "See you at lunch." And then he strode off down the hall after Simon, slipping into his room and shutting the door. I felt a slow smile creep onto my face.

Tori looked appalled. "What the hell, Chloe. Did he just kiss you?"

"I think he did." I cleared my throat, still staring at the door he'd disappeared behind. "And, to answer your earlier question," I looked at her and gave a friendly smile. "Yeah. It was totally worth it."

She was still staring as I ducked into our room, laughing to myself. With any luck, that would keep Tori quiet for the rest of the day.

THE END

---

A/N: Gah, that was so much fun! I do love a good verbal sparring, but was it too much? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Was the ending too mushy? Were the characters off? Anything you have to say is totally welcome in a review. I'm actually surprised I haven't gotten at least one flame. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall, lmao.

Anyway, thanks a TON to the people who reviewed, favorited, and read this story. I had a total blast writing it, and hearing all the opinions. You guys are way too nice to me, a newbie to the series and the fanfictions. I was just having fun, and you guys made me feel totally welcome, so thanks for that. :) Maybe when I have some more free time and after I've read The Reckoning, I'll come back and try something new. I've already got ideas, but who knows what will come of the next book? ^^,

Again, thank you, thank you, thank you. -begins passing out cyber cookies- Lmao.

Until next time! ;) - Chrissa