AN: Thanks for the reviews guys x3 Keeps me motivated!

A week passed by and even though the days were uneventful, not Death nor Beatrice would ever forget them. One thing Beatrice did forget about, however, was what he was even there for. To protect her? She still never found out what exactly he wanted to protect her from, though he had told her herself, but as far as she was concerned she felt protected. And she finally felt loved. He hadn't quite shown affection but he talked to her and smiled...no one ever talked to her and smiled! And he had this connection...or at least this feeling about him. She felt attached, felt like she only wanted to please him, and as if they were made for each other. She felt so embarrassed about it as well, however. She'd known this man a little over a week and she'd fallen for him. He probably really wanted nothing to do with her, Beatrice was thinking.

"Death," she said shyly. He noticed the sudden change in her voice and studied her. "Are you ever going to tell me your real name?" She asked nervously.

"That is my real name," he told her while looking away.

"Be serious," she said.

He sighed. "When the time comes, I'll tell you."

She looked disappointed but she continued on walking back to her house with him. The street lights had just come on and it was getting dark outside. Time to go home. "How old are you?" She randomly asked again.

"You already asked me that," he said sounding confused.

"And you didn't answer so I'm trying again. I don't see why it matters if you tell me."

He sighed yet again and looked around, thinking. "I'm...eighteen." He thought he looked about that age in this body...

"Oh," she said and held back a smile. They made it to her home and he walked her to the door, looking as if he was ready to leave.

She looked at him a bit sadly. "Don't you want to come in?"

He looked at her and his brows pulled together. He did, he did want to come in badly. To spend every moment he could with her but just that was bothering him. He was feeling for her. Everything about her invited him in. Her appearance, her actions, her personality. She would would would perfect mate...But he was *Death*. He couldn't just fall for her like this.

"No," he answered. "I...need to think."

"About what...?" she asked hesitantly.

"Just...about things."

"O-okay..." she nodded and smiled to him but today he didn't smile back. She turned from him and he almost stopped her to say he was sorry for the way he was acting but he didn't. He just turned from her. She went inside and he made it to the end of the walkway and froze. He listened closely at what he was hearing and it boiled him inside.

"You always gotta fu**ing ruin sh*t don't you? Take your ugly a** upstairs!"

Death turned around and stormed back to the door, about to either knock violently or just decide to slam right through the door but it opened slowly instead. Beatrice looked at Death with tears in her eyes and then walked past him quickly. The door slammed in his face and he ran to Beatrice.

"Don't listen to her," he said in a firm tone.

"No, I just have to watch her bang someone on the couch!" Her voice cracked as if she was about to cry. "I'm tired of this..."

He stopped and watched her fight her tears and blink them back. She didn't sob but she had to look at the ground and turn away from him before she fully recovered. "You don't deserve to see that," he said turning her back around to face him. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. "I'm sorry."

She put her hand out and touched his shoulder, wanting to pull him into a hug but she figured she would cross a line. She did keep her hand on his shoulder however, and Death couldn't help but notice that his skin burned under her hand. He released his hand from her chin and ran it down her neck to behind her back and he pulled her to him hesitantly. A shock ran up his spine and Beatrice shivered. It was a short and awkward hug. She didn't wrap her arms around him and neither did he, save for the one hand on her back. "Come on," he said taking her hand in his and pulling her along the outside of the fenceline, through the neighbors yard, and back behind her house. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Taking you inside. She's not going to put you out in the cold just because she wants to whore around."

Beatrice said nothing and simply agreed with him in her head, smiling a bit from his bluntness. He helped her over the fence and they went to the back door, while he listened closely. He didn't hear anything so he pushed the door open and pulled her through thw kitchen. They almost made it to the steps before they were stopped.

"Oh, you call me a whore all the time but you sneak that damn boy in here so you can mess around."

"I'm not messing around! He's just a friend!" Beatrice yelled.

"Friend with benefits," she laughed. The man on the couch laughed as well.

"You know," Death said. "Not everyone is like you." He turned to her and bared his teeth. "I'm not sleeping with your daughter. I respect her more then to just come into her life and a week later take her to bed. Right, I have respect. But I'm sure you've never been shown any. What man would want to show respect to some woman who throws herself around and doesn't give a damn about her daughter?"

With that, Death pulled Beatrice's hand and took her upstairs, slamming the door before the woman downstairs could protest against his speech in her own house.

"She's going to hate you now," B said shaking her head.

"Because I wanted her love in the first place," Death laughed while rolling his eyes and looking away from her.

"Again, thank you."

"Stop thanking me."

"Why?" She yelled but instantly regretted it.

"Because...You just don't deserve this," he said in a low voice. He sounded like he actually cared. "Someone needs to teach her a lesson."

"But she just doesn't care. She doesn't care for people's opinions or if she's doing something wrong. As long as she gets what she wants she'll continue on what she's doing. Not hitting her, beating her, telling her off, or shoving the pain she's put me through is going to stop her."

"No..." Death said defeatedly. "But...I could take you away from it."

She began to laugh. "You earned my trust over the last few days. But that doesn't mean I'll run away with you."

He smiled and laughed with her, biting his lip when she wasn't looking. So that was out of the question for now, unless he forced her. "To wherever your little investigation headquarters is," she added with another laugh.

Death couldn't find any words to say and so he simply went to sit in the chair and piddle around with her stuff. She didn't mind, she had nothing to hide so she just picked up a magazine boredly and flipped through the pages, trying to forget what she had just seen. He opened her laptop, and he was no expert in human technology but he was pretty sure it was an older version. Probably passed down by her father or something. "Do you want my password?" Beatrice said nonchalantly without looking up from the magazine.

"Sure..."

She told him and he slowly ticked it in, never having used a keyboard before. The background was an older picture of Beatrice sitting down in the grass and leaning against an older man which Death assumed to be her father. Or adoption father, should he say. She looked so happy...and still wearing all that black. Even as a little kid she saw the dark side, apparently.

He didn't know how to operate it so he sighed and turned back to B in his rolling chair. "I guess..." he started to say and get up but she almost jumped up.

"Don't go! Don't leave me here with that man in the house!"

"Why are you worried about him? Shouldn't you be more worried about her?"

"Uh..." Beatrice studdered and then pulled herself under the covers. "Just go..."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Has he done anything to you?"

"No, not him. Just go. Please."

"You were just begging me to stay," he said with a bit of pain coming into his voice.

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "I do want you to stay...just don't ask me that."

He wondered why she didn't want to speak about whatever had happened. She was so open with him on everything else. It was something horrible, Death knew. Some drunk man from the party perhaps stumbling upstairs and beating her...or perhaps...he had done something else. No, he didn't want to think about that. Death clenched his jaw and his fists balled tightly. But he didn't mention it again.

He stayed there late at night until she began to get sleepy and then he knew he had to leave. She wanted badly to ask him to just stay the night but she felt it was just wrong. She knew she would cross a line. So he left and she impatiently got in bed, ready for another new day with him.