Ok, word-wise, a little short. But I liked where it ended. Deal.

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"How should I know?" he asked, panicked.

"You're the plant." she pointed out.

"You're the one who's kissed before."

"Why should that make a difference?"

"So that isn't normal?"

"Hell, no, that isn't normal!"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Have you ever seen people kiss before? That is so not a normal kiss."

"I could care less how vermin copulate. I try to not pay attention."

She repressed the impulse to roll her eyes. "Trust me; that was not even remotely normal. I've kissed hundreds of times, and it was never like that."

"Oh?"

"No. Never that good."

He smiled slyly, the humor in his eyes barely masking the terror that lurked in their depths. "So…I'm a good kisser?"

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering trying to control the impulse. "I think there was a little more to it than that." His face fell a little. "I'm not saying you were bad," she rushed to assure him. "But seriously, have you ever lost control like that?"

He shook his head, averting his eyes slightly.

She continued. "I felt this need to…devour you. And I couldn't stop myself. I'm not even sure that I want, wanted to. All I could do was squeeze your hand and hope that you could stop us."

He squeezed hers as a reminder, then realized that he still held her hand and dropped it like her touch burned him.

"You did more then squeeze it," he said, looking at the slow seep of blood left over from the press of her fingernails. She flushed but didn't look away.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anything else to do." Her hands reached out to take his and heal her unintentionally inflicted wounds, but she curled her fingers into fists before touching him. She wasn't willing to tempt fate quite yet. She dropped them into her lap instead, fingers fidgeting with the need to do something, anything. Her heart still raced, and she felt a fresh flush creep up her neck. Blushing? Her? She hadn't flushed with anything other than anger since her stepfather had gotten his hands on her.

"I can't believe I kissed you," said Knives flatly. Her eyes sought out his and she flinched from the disgust she saw there.

"More like you can't believe you liked it," she muttered.

He glared. "Like it? Like being that close to one of your kind? Don't make me laugh," he ground out, then looked down at his hand. He seemed entranced by the marks her nails had made. "How could something so disgusting feel so good?"

She shrugged. "Nice to know I'm disgusting," she said morosely.

He clenched his hand into a fist, then looked at her. "If you haven't figured that out yet, you haven't been paying attention."

She chuckled, a dry sound that held little mirth. "Well, after the singularly most wonderful kiss of my life, I guess I never pictured the guy turning to me after and telling me I disgust him. Don't know why I expected anything else, though. Guess I'm just a romantic." She got up and brushed sand from her rear, her eyes averted.

The feeling of his hand on her ankle didn't register for a moment. When it did, she looked at him quizzically.

"No running. Not until we figure this out."

"Figure what out, Knives? That we kissed? Not forgetting that anytime soon. That is was damn good? What's to think about?"

"How could kissing you be so sublime?"

Her jaw clenched. "You probably shouldn't follow up on that statement."

"What?" He looked a little confused. "I only meant…"

"What you meant and what you said are two entirely different things," she said, surrendering to the inevitable and reseating herself. "And I don't know. I don't know what just happened, and regardless of what you might believe, I generally don't go around kissing obnoxious fools."

"No one made you kiss me."

"No one made you kiss me, either."

"I wasn't backing down," he explained.

"Well, neither was I. That still doesn't explain anything."

They fell silent for a moment.

"I still want to kiss you," he said very softly, not looking at her.

"Same here."

"It wouldn't be a good idea."

"No. No, I can't say it would be."

"Doesn't change things, does it?"

"Nope."

Silence fell again.

"Now what?" he asked.

"What what?"

"Now what do we do?"

"Well, not kissing would be a good start."

"Yes. I'm willing to give that a try if you are."

"I'm not."

"Damn. Neither am I."

"But I'm not going to kiss you, either."

"Why not?" he asked, eyes slightly hurt.

"One of us has to have some modicum of self-control. For all that was a wonderful experience, it was wrong, too much. I'm not going to lose control I can't lose control."

"So even if we both want to? Kiss, I mean?"

"Do you want to?"

"Hell yes."

"Really? Sully yourself with a human?"

He shook himself. "You're right. How could I even contemplate such a thing?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Damn, that was a good kiss. Totally screwed up and complicates life unnecessarily, but…"

A slow smile crept across his face. "I am a good kisser."

"Hmm."