Author's Note: Okay, parents… read this one before you let the kids read it.

OOOOOOOOOO

"We can't stay long," Ian warned her as he opened the door to his apartment. He'd checked his watch on the way, and it was just a little after midnight – and he had to get her home by one.

Cassie nodded, looking suddenly nervous, and she looked around his place as she took off her shawl. Really, not much had been changed. Daniel and Sally hadn't needed any of Daniel's furniture in Sally's house, so he'd left all that for Ian, and the shelves of books were still where they'd been – with a few spaces that had held books Daniel couldn't live without and had taken with him. Even the fish were still there, and Cassie walked over to look in the tank for a moment before giving him a smile.

"It's so clean."

Ian nodded.

"So I've been told."

"Are you always this tidy?"

"Yeah." He walked into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, looking for something for them to eat, and Cassie hesitated and then came up behind him, her hand coming out and sliding along his side from behind – which startled Ian.

She jerked her hand back when he jumped, and flashed him a nervous smile.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." He frowned. "Are you all right? You look a little pale."

Cassie shook her head.

"I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, but he really didn't have a lot of time to pursue the matter.

"I don't have any bread, so we can't have sandwiches… but I can make us some nachos or something…"

Cassie shrugged.

"Or… we could… do something else… besides eat…"

"You're not hungry?"

She blushed, and he wondered what in the world was wrong with her all of the sudden.

"I have something else in mind, Ian," Cassie told him, looking down at the floor and then over at the fish tank and pretty much everywhere but at him.

That was the first hint he had that the two of them weren't on the same page as to how the evening was going to end. The second one was even more blatant. Before Ian could say anything, Cassie had reached behind her and unzipped her dress. A moment later – and a movement to go with that moment – and the thing had fallen to the floor at her feet, leaving her in a slip that started at her hips, whatever she was wearing under the slip, and nothing else.

Ian froze. Even his mind – so agile and quick – hadn't expected this, and he was stunned. Not so stunned that he didn't get a great look at her naked chest, but stunned enough that he didn't even register what he was seeing beyond the dropped dress that was a pile of crimson at her feet.

"Cassie…"

"Ian…" she was blushing a brilliant red, and it was spreading, but she didn't even move to cover herself. "I want you to make love to me."

"Oh, no…" he murmured, shaking his head and still staring at her.

She nodded.

"I-"

"Cassie. You need to get dressed. Now."

"No, Ian. I want… I want you to-"

"No."

Jesus, did she have any idea what the fuck she was doing to him? He shook his head, again, reminding himself that he'd given Jack his word that nothing was going to happen – and that Fraiser was going to kill him if anything did.

"Ian-"

He lost his temper. Far more quickly than he'd ever lost it before – and he'd never lost it with Cassie. But what she was doing was so wrong that he couldn't believe she'd even considered it. She knew the shit he'd been putting up with for agreeing to take her – just to the dance, for Christ's sake, and she knew the glares and lectures and all that other crap he was getting, and she goes and pulls a stunt like this? Or maybe it was the whole, you always hurt the one you love thing, only this time it was you always anger that person by doing something that there was no way they could follow through with...?

"God damn it, Cassie. Get dressed, now."

"But-"

"Now!"

There was no softness in his dark eyes, now, Cassie saw. Only anger and disbelief. A lot of anger. They were cold, and it stung her to the very quick to see it directed at her. Couldn't he see what she was offering him? What she wanted from him? To give to him?

Tears of hurt and embarrassment were welling in her eyes as she bent to pull up her dress, and she didn't look at him as she reached and tried to zip it up. She couldn't get it all the way up – her hands and fingers were suddenly and inexplicably numb – but she got it up enough that it'd stay up.

"I can't believe you," Ian growled, walking into the living room and picking up her shawl. "Do you have any idea what your mother-"

"You're afraid of my mother?"

"I promised her nothing would happen, God damn it! I swore to her that I wouldn't do anything, and then I turned around and said the exact same thing to Jack, and here you are tricking me into bringing you here so-"

"I didn't trick you-"

"You said you-"

"I want you to-"

"I know what you want," he snarled, his temper so out of control just then that he knew he was about to say something he absolutely didn't mean, and he still couldn't help himself. "But contrary to popular belief, my brain isn't in my pants, and I'm smart enough to know that the absolute last person I should be having sex with is you."

He tossed her the shawl, and she didn't catch it, but it draped over her shoulder anyways.

"I'm taking you home."

She shook her head, tears running down her cheek and smearing her makeup.

"I don't want you to. I'll walk."

Like she wanted to be in the car with him after hearing just what he thought of her? Her breath caught in a sob at the thought, and she stifled it as well as she could, wiping her nose on her shawl.

"Like hell you will. Someone sees you dressed like that and they'll think you're the skank you're acting like."

Oh yeah, he still didn't have control of his mouth, and he could see that that one had hurt. But he didn't care – at least not then. Although a little corner of his mind told him that he was going to be sorry when he'd had a chance to think this through.

She recoiled almost as if he'd slapped her, and started for the door, but Ian stepped in front of it, holding it closed.

"You have two options: I'll take you home, or I'll call your mom to come get you."

Option number two would get him killed, but if she was going to refuse to get in the car with him, then he had to call Fraiser. There was no way he'd let her go anywhere alone, not dressed like she was, and not as upset as she was.

The last thing Cassie wanted was for her mother to come collect her. Then she'd have to tell Janet exactly why she was there, and what she'd done, and that wasn't going to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. She reached for the doorknob, but Ian's hand was on it, and there was no give as she tried to make him move it. Blinded by the tears in her eyes, and dumb with anger, hurt and shock at just how terrible the evening had turned, Cassie finally nodded.

"Fine. Take me home."

She didn't have any other choice…