A/N: This one's a bit more blunt in styling. Not as wordy, mostly dialogue. Hopefully that means you guys have more room for imagining...if not, I'm sorry. Told from Beck's POV, as if directed to Jade.


Sometimes late at night you like to ask me things; sometimes just normal questions, sometimes not. Being you, you come up with some crazy scenarios, and you try to get me to say what I'd do in that situation. It's one of your favorite games, I think; this whole, "what if" thing.

We're lying there in the dark, and you start up again, as usual.

"Beck,"

"Yeah?"

"What would you do if someone kidnapped me?"

I don't know why you chose that one, but the answer is easy.

"I'd hunt them down and get you back."

"Thought so. What if we were on a roller coaster and it broke, and we were flying through the air, about to crash and die."

You get a little bit morbid sometimes.

"Why does it matter? We'd be about to die."

"Just answer the question."

"I'd probably be screaming and holding onto you."

This answer seems to satisfy you, because you move on.

"What if we were on a desert island and starving, and our only choice was cannibalism?"

"Couldn't we catch a fish or something?"

"No, there are no fish."

"But we're on an island."

"Ugh. Would you kill me and eat me, or starve to death?"

"I'd try to catch a fish."

"Beck!"

You can be so adamant.

"I'd starve."

"Hmm. What if you had to choose between shaving your head for a month, and shaving your legs for a year?"

One of your weirder questions.

"I'd definitely shave my head. It would grow back. I have to listen to you complaining about shaving your legs often enough to never want to do that."

"Please don't ever do either. I can't picture you bald."

I can almost hear you smiling. You're picturing it.

I jump in; I want a turn at this madness. I have to give you a tough one.

"Would you rather be responsible for an old person, or a baby?"

"Oh God, both of them creep me out!"

"I know. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Fine. Baby. They're smaller, with smaller diapers."

I chuckle. You take your turn.

"What would you do if I told you I was pregnant?"

"I would ask if you were kidding."

"Really? You think I'd joke about it?"

It only takes me a moment before I reply.

"Yeah. You would."

You persist.

"What would our kid look like?"

I say it because it's true:

"We would have super good looking babies."

You agree, even though you don't even like babies. Ours might not be so bad.

"Hopefully they'd have your attitude."

It's true. I wouldn't want to see you argue with a mini-you. I poke you in the soft side part of your stomach, even though I know you'll slap me.

"What if I bit your wrist so you'd stop tickling me?"

"It's not like you haven't done it before…"

"True. But seriously."

I know you'll go on if I let you. I usually have to initiate the end of the game.

"But seriously, go to sleep."

You're only quiet for a moment.

"Beck?"

"Jade."

I hope there are no more questions for tonight, even as much as you love this game, I have to admit it stresses me out a little.

"Love you."

And you turn over. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Love you too."