Disclaimer: I don't own fo-sho.

A/N: AHh! What happened to my awesome reviewers? T.T

:) Muahaha. So, last chapter, we had a little of Miley's outlook on things so far in her life - Now we'll just go back to Oliver AND Miley.

"I still don't really see why I have to go," Oliver grumbled, playing with the buttons in Jonathan's car.

"Oken," he snapped. "You're one of our best - And stop touching my buttons."

Oliver sighed - He and Lilly agreed that it'd be best to try and talk to Miley - But he didn't feel like talking at the moment.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

Oliver sighed, tapping the window.

"...Now?"

"Quiet, Oken!"

"Yes sir," he said, promptly silencing himself, and sticking with glaring out the window.

All throughout the ride, Oliver was torn between daydreams, and nightmares - He'd be having a wonderful fantasy of what it'd be like to see her again - But then, the alternative would come in, and they'd be fighting like crazy.

All in all - it would have been better if I didn't go.

They stopped in front of a lavish-looking house - With castle-like features.

He smirked. "Typical," he murmured.

Jonathan looked over at him. "Pardon?"

Oliver wiped the smirk off his face, replacing it with an innocent one. "Aren't we gonna meet at some sort of concert hall or stadium?"

"No - They wanted to meet somewhere more private, and personal."

Oliver nodded, as he glanced up at the majestic house glaring down upon him.

Jonathan rang the doorbell, while Oliver fidgeted.

The door opened and Oliver found himself looking up at the very familiar face of Robbie Ray Stewart. He seemed even more imposing than the house.

"Hello, sir," Jonathan said, holding a hand out briskly. "My name is Jonathan Moore, and this Officer--" Oliver bounded forward and stuck his hand out quickly.

"Nice to see you again Mr. Stewart, sir." Mr. Stewart nodded, shaking Oliver's hand while scrutinizing him. He gave him a confused look.

"Have we met before?"

"Uh ye--" Oliver paused. Better to remain unknown. "Nope. Not at all."

"Hmm.. Alright - I'd like you meet my daughter - Why don't y'all come in, and we can talk." Mr. Stewart opened the door wider, and let them in, leading them into the huge hallway, while calling up the stairs, "MILEY! THEY'RE HERE!"

Oliver heard a glimpse of a response, and soft running footsteps.

His heart nearly stopped when she came down the stairs. Her lips were curved in a smile, which seemed to radiate. His jaw nearly dropped.

The TV didn't do her justice - She had grown so very nicely. He gaped pointlessly.

She still managed to pull off sweat pants and a shirt.

She caught his stare, and a ghost of a smirk appeared.

"Hi - I'm Miley Stewart, nice to meet y'all," she said smoothly, her accent still strong, as she gently shook their hands, her hand lingering longer in Oliver's.

She blinked at him curiously.

"Have I met you before?"

"People keep asking me that," Oliver responded jokingly, still gripping her hand.

A grin nearly broke out - Maybe he'd have a secret to hide as well.

There was a pause as they looked at each other intently.

Suddenly there was coughing, as her father put a hand on each of their shoulders wedging them apart casually but firmly.

It was Oliver's turn this time, as he smirked and Miley blushed, turning away.

They walked down a long hallway, into a wide living room.

They sat down on the comfortable couches, and Oliver was surprised when Miley happily chose to sit beside him.

Did she really not reconize him as the guy who's heart she broke - AKA her former best friend?

"So, Mr. Stewart," Jonathan started. "When did Hannah start receiving these letters?"

"Well - actually - This, Miley here - She's really--"

"--Hannah Montana," Oliver finished, out of habit.

His eyes widened as he clamped his mouth shut quickly, eyes flickering from person to person.

Everyone was looking at him.

Mr. Stewart gave him a suspicious, alarmed look, as he scrutinized him again.

Miley was gaping at him, shocked and curious.

Jonathan looked somewhat impressed - Probably thinking that he did a little research.

Mr. Stewart was the first to speak up. How do you know that, boy?"

"I guessed?"

"Police officer boy say what? Are you absolutely sure we haven't met?" Miley's voice was even more aroused with curiosity as she peered at him. He leaned away from her uncomfortably, as he held his breath, making sure not to inhale her scent.

"Pretty sure," he said hoarsely.

"Mhm.. So when did .. Miley start receiving these letters?"

"She received this gift basket with a weird note attached - We got some of the 'goods' tested just in case - A few of the items had small traces of sleeping pills... And lately they've even been sent to our home... It's been creepy - This person - He sent us pictures of Miley herself - You know just being normal - And some more inappropriate pictures.."

Oliver felt a strange sense of protectiveness run through him, but he fought it back, simply nodding nonchalantly while biting the inside of his cheek.

"So this.. guy knows where you live - And has pictures of you?" Miley nodded weakly, attempting a brave front, but Oliver read her easily and saw the clear fear in her eyes.

"Well - Enough said, Mr. Stewart - We're on the job," Jonathan said firmly. "My boy here - He's one of our best," he said, reaching out to clap Oliver on the shoulder.

"Good," Mr. Stewart said, satisfied.

Jonathan shot Oliver a smirk, and a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure my boy here won't mind hanging out with Ms. Stewart."

Miley smiled at Oliver happily.

He attempted a smile back, but it came as some sort of a grimace.

"Yeah. I don't mind," he muttered.

Teehee. Review please. :) Oh hooo - They don't recognize him... Bwahahaha.