hey guys. short intro today. i hope you all enjoy this, and many thanks to all of you who reviewed/added me to story alert.

Disclaimer: only the story line and a few of the minor characters

Chapter 10: Maybe it's best you leave me alone

A week later, Oliver was angry. Really angry. "Bell!" he roared, coming out of the bathroom at a run, still wet from his shower.

Katie looked up from the book she was reading on her couch. "Yes?" she asked and contained a laugh as he practically tripped over his couch.

"There was a bra on my towel!" Oliver announced like he had just told her that a dragon had just appeared in the shower.

"And? Move it if it bugs you so much," she said and went back to her book.

Oliver stared at her for a moment, incredulous. "I did!" he exclaimed finally.

Katie looked at him over the top of the page with an eyebrow raised. "So why are you angry?"

"Because my bathroom is turning into a girl! If you don't stop making it girly, I'll resort to all things super-manly: burping, farting, leaving the seat up, leaving rings on the coffee table, putting empty milk cartons back in the fridge, not wiping my feet on my way in." He ticked them off on his fingers as he listed them.

"Don't forget leaving the cap off the toothpaste so that it drips all down into the sink, and scratching while burping and farting," Katie reminded him.

"You think I wont!"

"Oliver, you didn't do any of those before I moved in -- well, except for the seat thing, but that's understandable. But yes, next time, I should remember to pick my underwear up."

"It's not just that though! There's moisturizers and perfumes and soaps and lotions and nail polish and make up and tweezers and –"

"The tweezers are yours, Ollie," Katie remarked, turning a page.

"And big long pieces of hair!" Oliver continued loudly, pacing back and forth. "The drains getting clogged with them! Stop shedding and stop being a girl!" he finished and stormed out of the living room. Katie shrugged.

&&&&&

"Oliver's having a case of PMS," Katie announced as she walked from Angelina's fireplace into her kitchen.

"Oh, that's nice. Could you hand me that bowl?" the gorgeous black woman asked, pointing with her elbow. Katie set the large blue bowl in front of Angelina who had flour coating her arms and front.

"What are you making?" Katie asked, making herself some tea and then settling in at the kitchen table.

"Bread via muggle!" Angelina announced proudly, picking up the dough she had been kneading and plopping it in the bowl. She placed a towel over the top, placed it in the sunshine coming in from the window and sat down across from Katie. "Why is Oliver PMS-ing?" she asked, floating a cup of tea across the kitchen.

"And I quote: 'stop shedding and stop being a girl!'"

Angelina made a face "Wow, that is prickly-man-syndrome. What caused it this time?"

Katie shook her head. "Who knows," she said. "Last time, it was me accidentally dying an entire load of laundry pink, but this time, as far as I know, his whites are still white."

"Well, what did he start the rant with?"

"Something about there being a bra on his towel. I think. I can't be sure…I was reading."

"Oh! What book?" Angelina asked, getting sidetracked by the promise of a new book to devour.

"The one you leant me!" Katie exclaimed. "Focus on Oliver, please."

Angelina's face fell a little. "Fine! But I'm out of books, and Fred's collection is horrible!" she protested and took a sip of her tea. Katie glared at her over her mug and Angelina sighed, finally focusing herself on her friend's dilemma again. "Okay, well, there was a bra on his towel…wait, why was there a bra on his towel?"

Katie looked sheepish and said, "because I spilled honey on it this morning and I was letting it dry."

"Okay, but why wasn't in your dirty clothes with your shirt?"

"Because there wasn't a shirt with honey on it," Katie blushed. Angelina took the blush to mean something else and squealed.

"You're finally doing it with Oliver!" she crowed, ducking as Katie threw a spoon at her.

"We are not!" Katie reprimanded. "There wasn't a shirt because I was wearing one but then I spilled toothpaste on it, so I washed it and it was drying in the bathroom and Oliver wasn't awake yet, and the water started to boil so I went out to make the tea but then I spilled honey on my self and so then I changed my bra and put the old one on Oliver's towel rack to dry because my towel hangs on a hook and you can't fit a bra over the hook when the towel is on it!"

Angelina's face had fallen dramatically, and as Katie finished, taking a big breath at the end of her mini-rant, the ex-chaser took another sip of her tea. "First off, you need to work on your run-on sentences. Secondly, did you forget how to perform basic drying spells?"

"No! The spell reacts with my laundry soap though and the shirt or whatever ends up smelling like salt."

"Salt has a smell?" Fred asked, coming into the kitchen. He kissed Angelina on her cheek, peeked under the towel at the rising bread and joined the girls at the table.

"Yes," Katie said. "It smells salty."

"I don't believe you," he said, grabbing Angelina's cup of tea and ignoring her protests.

Katie rolled her eyes, handed her tea to Angelina to replace the one Fred had stolen, grabbed the salt-shaker and unscrewed the lid. "Here, smell this," she said, holding the shaker underneath his nose. He sniffed it carefully and sat back, impressed.

Angelina stared at her boyfriend and best friend. "You're two of the oddest people I know," she said, as Fred smelled the salt again, a grin spreading across his face.

Fred glanced at her, than grabbed Katie's wrist. "It's perfect!" he said excitedly, moving the shaker underneath Angelina's nose.

"I know what salt smells like, Fred!" she snapped and moved her head away.

Fred smelled the salt again, and then got up from the table. "I have to share this discovery with George! This is just what we've been looking for!" he announced and flooed to his brother's house.

Katie and Angelina sighed and began to laugh. "You picked a good one," Katie said at last, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Speaking of which," Angelina began, but was interrupted by an owl pecking madly at the kitchen window. She got up and opened the window for the little bird. It landed on the sill and held out its leg. The two women gasped when they saw the tell-tale red envelope attached. The words Katie Bell were written neatly across it. "For you, Kates," Angelina said, handing her friend the envelope and giving the bird a treat. It flew off hurriedly, and Katie tentatively opened the cherry colored wrapping.

"KATHERINE!" her sister's voice screamed out, much to the girls' surprise. "GET YOUR BUTT DOWN TO ST. MUNGO'S NOW! THE BABY'S COMING AND BUTTHEAD HERE JUST PASSED OUT!"

Katie and Angelina apparated to the hospital before the message had even finished.

&&&&&

Eight hours later, Katie was the proud aunt of little baby Charlotte, and the slightly embarrassed sister of Kelsey who, during labor, had loudly repeated every swear and curse she had heard in her twenty-nine years of existence. Katie sat in the waiting room of the seventh floor of St. Mungo's, waiting for one of the nurses to come out and tell her she could see her niece and sister. Angelina had gone home at around six, giving a quick apology to Katie who asked her friend to tell Oliver that she was missing practice. The clock struck nine just as a round nurse came wearily into the waiting room.

"Katie?" she asked, and Katie stood up. "Follow me," she commanded and turned back the way she had come. Katie dutifully followed the older woman into a quiet room where Kelsey lay quietly holding Charlotte, while her husband owled his parents.

"Thank you for coming, and tell Oliver I'm sorry for making you miss practice," Kelsey said as Katie entered.

"It's what sisters are for!" Katie exclaimed, looking over her sister's shoulder at the tiny baby. "She's got your eyes!" Katie cooed. "And you know, apart from looking like a quaffle she's pretty cute! Aren't you? Yes you are! And I'm your Auntie Katie and I'm going to teach you all the important things including how to hate your mother properly and--"

"My daughter does not look like a quaffle!" Kelsey interrupted, laughing.

"Well, she's the color of one!" Katie said, sitting next to her older sister on the bed.

"I'm not going to let you be her godmother," Kelsey threatened, grinning.

"That's okay. I'd probably drop her anyway."

"You're terrible," Kelsey chided.

"You're going to be an amazing mom," Katie said seriously.

Kelsey leaned against her younger sister since Charlotte occupied her arms. "I'll need help," she whispered and then yawned.

"You'll get it, don't worry. I'll let you sleep though. Owl me when you get out of here, okay?" Katie said, getting up.

Kelsey nodded, and then pressed the button to call the nurses to take Charlotte back to the nursery. "Thanks again, Kates," she said as Katie opened the door.

"Love you," Katie returned, and walked out of the darkened room.

&&&&&

When Katie had left that morning, calling out that she was heading to Angelina's for a bit, Oliver thought nothing of it. He had barricaded himself in his room so that he could avoid his flat-mate and the confrontation that he knew had to come sometime.

"Just tell her!" he told himself. He was crouched in a ball on his bed, his chin resting on his knees. "Just walk up to her when she gets home and say 'Katie, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I love you and this time, I'm not drunk!' Than she'll stare at you, say something sarcastic and then you kiss her. No. No that won't work. She's Katie, you stupid git, not some sappy normal female. She'd probably punch you in the stomach... Maybe write a letter! Yea! … No! Stupid, Oliver! Stop being stupid!"

His monologue continued in much the same fashion until it was time for Quidditch practice. He thought briefly about telling her at practice but when he showed up at the dressing rooms he saw Angelina, but no Katie.

"Kelsey's having her baby," his old chaser explained when questioned about Katie's absence. Oliver sighed but accepted the fact.

The keeper's anger did not begin to build until he returned home after practice. Katie still hadn't come home or sent him any sort of owl. That's when he noticed that something was different about his living room. He couldn't put his finger on it until he had gone to review plays for the game on Saturday and realized that Katie had dusted the television and washed the wall, successfully erasing two plays that he had worked hard on. The anger had risen in him much like a crock-pot begins to boil. By the time the clock read 9:30, Oliver had forgotten entirely about his plan to tell Katie of his love, instead focusing on all the annoying things she had done in the past week.

&&&&&

Katie entered the flat with a yawn. She flopped onto her couch and picked up her book from the coffee table, turning the lamp on as she did so. She failed to notice Oliver enter the living room and glare at her.

"Next time, you better be at practice, Bell," Oliver said quietly after a moment.

Katie set her book down with a sigh and sat up straighter. "My sister was having her baby, Oliver," she said.

"Angelina told me. Practice comes first, though," he said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

Katie looked at him infuriated. "Last week you let Daniel take the day off because his wife was sick!"

"He gave me warning," Oliver explained, keeping his voice even.

"Babies don't give warning, Oliver!"

"Adults do though, and I expect you to behave like one."

Katie narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Oliver, I'm tired and I don't need this right now."

"You should have thought of that before you ditched practice."

"I didn't ditch practice! I had a family emergency!"

"You didn't have to be there, though."

"Yes I did! What crawled up your bum and died anyway?" she asked acidly.

"Excuse me?" he asked, straightening.

"You heard me. This morning you went off on how I was turning your bathroom into a girl – by the way, rooms can't have genders – and now you're on some power trip and calling me a child! So, I'm just wondering, what crawled up your bum and died?"

Oliver glared at her as if judging her and finally said, "I'm putting you on suspension. When you start acting like an adult, we'll reconsider if you can play this Saturday." He walked back into his room and shut the door. Katie remained on the couch long enough to blink and then was banging on his door.

"Oliver!" she yelled. "You can't suspend me! Who's going to play in my stead?"

"We'll just play a man down!" he yelled from the other side of the door. Katie could imagine him sitting on his bed with his arms crossed, pouting like the little child he was accusing her of.

"You mean you'll forfeit!"

"We'll just claim your hand is still hurting too much to play!"

"I make you hurt too much to play!" Katie threatened through the door. "Just come out here and tell me what your issue is!"

Oliver wrenched the door open and Katie had a sudden case of déjà vu. He stood glaring down at her and said, "You are. You leave bras on my towels and then flake out on practices. I'm sick of being your fake caretaker, Katie. I'm sick of you feeling like you can't do anything. You can, and you know it. You can fight your own battles, but you still act like you need me to do it for you. I've seen you kill ants with a magnifying glass for fun, but the moment there's a spider in the bathroom you're screaming like Snape himself is in there with you! You fly upside-down simply to amuse yourself, not because you need to and then get freaked out when you have to practice controlled falling! You dust off my TV and wash my walls, erasing plays that I worked really hard on, but then leave your tea mugs on the coffee table for days on end! You throw your laundry in with mine so that when I go through looking for a t-shirt, I have to sift through bras and underwear and stupid little socks that look like they should be for a eleven year old! You're a twenty-something-year-old woman! For Merlin's sake, get some sense!" He finished and retreated again into his room, slamming the door as he went.

Katie stared at the door for a second before walking calmly into the living room. She opened the trunk that sat in the corner behind her couch and lifted out a book. She flipped lovingly through the pages that had play after play written on them in her meticulous cursive and walked back to Oliver's door. After slipping the book through the crack at the bottom, she picked up her wand and walked out the front door.

Don't worry, it gets worse in the next chapter. ;P

the song is from All-American Rejects "It ends tonight"

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