The offending paper was still there. Right on her desk. Right where she left it. "Have you NO shame?" she hissed at the piece, shooting it a glare to curl leaves.

She understood that the sub would only be teaching class for a few days, until Mr. Wehnmen got back from his vacation break, but that gave her NO right to usurp jobs that should rightly be his- like grading important papers that could do serious damage to a student's academic average. Unfortunately, the bitch just failed the wrong voluptuous eighteen-year-old.

She picked up the paper with the same air she'd pick up the tail of a squashed mouse- between two fingers and with an affronted expression. She walked it to her window and pressed it against the glass. Over the elegantly scrawled title and the blaring green D, Faye wrote, "Let misfortune dog her footsteps" in bright red sharpie. She snickered to herself at the pun. She dropped the pen, snagged the purple plastic lighter from her desk, and lit one corner of the page on fire.

It didn't matter that she'd be expected to return tomorrow with the paper and a parent's signature in tow; she SERIOUSLY doubted the woman would be in tomorrow anyway.

"Mrr-rerw!" from the floor. She looked down. One sweet ball of kittenly softness curled around her ankle, watching the paper burn with unnaturally bright eyes. Faye smiled at the baby and shared those eyes. Black boots, tight jeans, and a dropped cigarette butt. All it could see from the vantage point it was limited to: the ground. Looking up made this kitten woozy, it's sibling was absolutely fearless. It didn't matter anyway; Faye knew those boots.

She returned to the real world and let the shard of smoking paper drop out the window. Let her fire do its work.

She kicked off her expensive strappy heels and collapsed in graceful heap onto her bed. She'd called him hour ago, out of sheer boredom, but he wouldn't be hurried.

Her bedroom door swung open- she hadn't locked the front door and he never knocked- and she looked up to meet solemn mahogany eyes and a tight, thin mouth.

"Hello, Nick." Faye said, and smiled. Nick looked disinterested, but then, she didn't want him for his mind. She just wanted that body. "Shut the door," she ordered.

Nick shut and locked her bedroom door before shedding his coat and t-shirt. His waist was small and his stomach was tight with muscle. "Mmmm. I think you must be one of the best looking guys in this whole town. Have I ever told you that?" she mused to herself as she stretched luxuriously on her bed and waited for him to finish undressing. "Much better than that nice blond boy out from the mainland. Did you meet him?"

"No, Faye."

"He was really nice. Oh, and you're much better looking than Adam."

Whoo, hot buttons.

Nick jerked involuntarily, but he hid it well. Another catlike smile crept onto Faye's lovely face. "Adam does it, hmm? I thought you had some sort of strange rivalry going on, but he's never around long enough for sparks to fly, you know?" She enjoyed manipulating people's emotions; it was almost as much fun as the sex. Unfortunately, Nick's icy exterior didn't give her much room to work, but sometimes she could get a claw in.

...But the sex wasn't bad, either.

"Are you finished? Or should I go." He sounded irritated and a little frustrated, along with that ever-present cool disdain. Even naked in her bedroom, he made her seem like an intruder on his time.

Faye looked him up and down and licked her lips. Damn.

"Alright. Hmph. You're never any fun, you know?" She got no reaction.
But he WAS fun.

She hitched her elbows under her, thrusting her breasts up. "You want to undress me?" she teased. Nothing.

"Fshhh," she said, and did it herself.

Faye was still out of breath when Nick swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his pants.

"Where- are you going?" she panted.

He stood up and buttoned the waist. "For a cigarette. You want...want some water or something?"

Faye was a bit charmed. It was unlike him to be so considerate.
"Are you- down for the- count?" she ground out, smirking. Nick arched an eyebrow at her in the mirror on her closet door, taking in her current state.

"You're done for today." he told her. Faye rolled her eyes and swallowed convulsively.

One kitten was curled up in a nest of her hair beside her head. The second was beside Nick's sneakers, hissing at the laces. When Nick brushed it off to collect his shoe, it spat at him.

"No, thank you. For the water, I mean. But could you bring me the phone?"

Nick picked up his shirt and slung it over one lean shoulder, shrugging into his jacket bare-chested. He said nothing when he left. She lay back and laughed to herself. Someday, she'd burrow under his hard shell and find the softness inside. And when she did, she'd REALLY have him under her heel.

She blew the door a kiss and lamented her marked lack of phone to the kitten beside her.

Outside, Nick yanked a bit on his jacket as the cold September wind met his skin. From her house, the sea looked white and cold. He lit a cigarette in the cup of his hand before descending to his car.

And somewhere across town, some poor teacher was having a rather nasty spot of bad luck.