Disclaimer: Uggh...the disclaimer from all previous chapters still holds true. And will continue to do so for the remainder of this story and beyond. I am so done writing disclaimers.

"Good Morning!" If Patrick Verona were capable of chirping anything, that's what he did the next morning as Kat teetered down the stairs, still trying to find her center of balance with the "Sympathy Belly" around her waist.

"G'morning," she replied, not nearly so enthusiastically. She was wearing one of her dad's old gray sweatshirts (none of her shirts fit over the belly) with some plaid pajama bottoms. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, bangs falling gracefully around her face.

"Aw, what's the matter? Rough night?"

"I woke up probably ten times because I kept trying to roll onto my stomach. Did not work out well."

Walter walked in just in time to hear Kat's last statement. "Ah, glad to hear that you're beginning to see the consequences of having sex before you're married."

Just then, Dr. Stratford's pager went off. He left to go call the hospital, coming back in a few moments later and sighing. "I've got to get to the hospital," he grumbled. "One of my patients just went into labor prematurely." Never one to pass up an opportunity for a life lesson, he added, "I hope the mother and baby are both okay. You see what kind of danger you put yourself in, Kat?" As he grabbed his things and ran out the door, he stopped long enough to turn and glare at Patrick. Then, turning to Kat, he said, "Remember-"

"-Big Brother is watching," Kat finished for him. "I know. And the thought police are just waiting to take me away if I even think about removing this belly and having sex again." Walter nodded and kissed his daughter on the cheek, then left.

Looking awkwardly around the room, Kat wasn't sure what to do next. She was suddenly very aware of how she must look, and was just about to excuse herself to get dressed, when Patrick suddenly said, "Breakfast!"

"What?" Kat asked.

Patrick grabbed a frying pan that was hanging in the kitchen. "Breakfast! I mean, it's the least I can do after...getting you fake pregnant and all." He smiled.

"You're right," Kat retorted, "That is the very least you can possibly do." She laughed, her insecurities slipping away as they lapsed into their easy banter.

"Well, if that's the way you feel about it, you can fend for yourself." Patrick feigned hurt and started putting the frying pan back, but Kat quickly stopped him.

"No, no! I mean, you...cooking? This I've got to see."

"It's good to see that you have such faith in me. As it turns out, I make awesome pancakes."

She had to agree. His blueberry pancakes were delicious. After they finished, he even cleaned everything up while she went upstairs to shower and change, all the while thinking that maybe her father had gone soft. This punishment might not be so bad after all.

By five o'clock that night, however, she had completely changed her assessment. "God, I really don't want to deal with this right now, Patrick!" she found herself shouting. They had gotten into a fight over something (she couldn't remember now what, but it was his fault, she was sure).

"You never want to deal with anything! That's your problem! When things get too real, you just lock yourself away in your little bubble and ignore the rest of the world!" He wasn't letting her escape all the blame.

"Oh, yeah, I'm so repressed. You're the one who won't tell me anything about his life!" Ah yes, that's what this was about. She had asked a question, and when he evaded it, like he always did, she snapped. Accused him of never taking anything seriously. When truthfully, she was just upset because she was sore and tired and cranky. She didn't wait for his answer to her last accusation; instead she stormed upstairs, thankful her dad hadn't taken away her door so she could still slam it in anger. A few seconds later, she heard Patrick's motorcycle drive away. In spite of herself, she felt tears well up, and she did her best to hold them back. Letting out a sharp breath, she climbed in bed, hoping she just needed some alone time to cool off and start feeling herself again.

As she collapsed on her bed, Kat thought momentarily about removing the belly bump, but knew she'd never get away with it. Instead, she put on her headphones and tried to pretend it wasn't there.

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, someone had shut off her lights and the house was quiet. She flicked on her bedside lamp and got up to go to the bathroom and brush her teeth. When she came back, her window was open and Patrick was crawling through. She laughed, then quieted herself, not wanting to wake anyone. "You know, I think my dad knows you're sleeping over now," she whispered. "There's really no need to climb through my window."

Patrick flashed her the smile that made her knees feel slightly weak and whispered, "Yeah, but it's much more fun this way." He tried to pull in for a kiss, but the awkward belly got in the way, and they both ended up laughing instead. Kat settled into bed, and Patrick, not waiting for an invitation, kicked off his shoes and joined her.

"My dad'll kill us both when he sees this footage," she whispered, glancing up at where she knew the camera was.

"Why? It's not like I'm going to try anything with you all...knocked up."

Kat couldn't argue with his reasoning. Or, more truthfully, she didn't want to. She liked him being so close, especially since it meant he wasn't mad at her anymore. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him, kissing her softly on the forehead.

"I'm sorry for being kind of a psycho earlier," Kat muttered.

"Kind of a psycho, huh? Not a full-fledged raving maniac?" Patrick chuckled.

Kat smacked his arm lightly, then maneuvered herself so that her head was laying on his chest. "I was just tired, and my back is killing me, and...and this whole stupid punishment kind of got to me, I guess."

"Then why do you do it? Why go along with all of this?"

Kat pulled herself back and stared at him, dumb-founded. "What do you mean? What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Patrick shrugged, "Leave. Threaten to leave, at least. You don't have to put up with this crap, I know that."

Kat shook her head. Knowing her dad might eventually listen to anything she said, she chose her words carefully. "I love my dad," she started. "I know he's a little...unbalanced. Over-protective. And he worries way too much. But he's just doing what he thinks is best. And..." she hesitated. She and Patrick didn't usually get too deep into emotional stuff. But, she thought back to when he shared with her about his therapy sessions. She took a deep breath and continued, "And I already lost one parent. After my mom died...I couldn't...I mean...I can't imagine losing my dad too."

Patrick nodded, seeming to understand.

"Why are you still here?" Kat at last asked the question she had been dying to since Friday afternoon. "You can leave. I'm sure there are other places you can stay until your step-dad cools off. Places with fewer...crazy people."

"Well, I'd miss you, crazy or not," Patrick grinned. "And...and I meant what I said to your dad the other day. I wouldn't just ditch you." He wanted to say so much more. Wanted to say those three little words that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long. But come on. He was Patrick Verona; he was a flesh-eating serial killer, according to the latest rumors. He definitely didn't go around proclaiming his love for girls. So, he just remained silent. Eventually, their silence turned into sleep, and the next thing Patrick knew, it was morning. The sunlight crept in through the curtains, bathing Kat in a warm light that made her look more beautiful than he had ever seen her. It made him wish that he could wake up next to her much more often. Instead of staying to enjoy the moment, however, he quickly and quietly got out of bed and headed downstairs, hoping Doctor Stratford wouldn't completely freak out about him and Kat accidentally spending the night together.