A/N:I hope that you all are liking the way things are shaping up. However, I still have at least seven more chapters planned before its over. The drama has barely begun….kind of. Cheers!

7:30 PM

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Lisa stood completely stationary in the shower, feeling her muscles relax as the borderline scalding water made a tapping pattern down her shoulders. She didn't move anything except her head, which she tipped back to enjoy the water even more.

"I love the shower," she murmured to herself, finally breaking her vow of stillness and squeezing a dollop of shampoo to lather into her hair. She broke into a hum. "I love the shower…"

"Lisa!"

She rinsed her hair and with a flick of the wrist flipped off the dial. Rolling her eyes, she shouted back through the door to Jackson.

"What?"

"Are you done already? You've been in there for over half an hour, I still need to get in!"

At least he didn't say—

"God, save some for the fishes!" Lisa laughed quietly to herself and began to towel-dry.

"Lisa!"

"I'm coming, geez," she dressed, still shaking her head in disbelief at Jackson's anally compulsive manner. Maybe that's why he gets frustrated so easily. Because he's a control freak.

And maybe that's why he annoys me.

Lisa threw open the door with bravado, a little irritated at having her moment of peace disturbed. She heard the tell-tale holler that rudely informed her that Jackson had been standing directly behind it.

He let out a stream of curse words as he hobbled to the bed. Lisa chuckled at him before dragging the brush through her hair.

"Oh, poor baby stubbed his toe," she crooned, beginning to turn back into the bathroom for her makeup bag.

"Lisa!" She turned. He glared at her and pointed to his foot. "Look what you did!"

"It's a bruis--" she took a closer look and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. Running to the medicine cabinet, she grabbed some gauze and medical tape, along with a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. On a second thought, she flung the hand-towel from beside the sink over her shoulder as well.

"Shit, Jackson," she murmured, sinking onto the bed next to him. She dragged a small chair from the desk in the corner over and propped his foot up on it.

The nail on his big toe was almost completely torn off and blood pooled around not only the affected area but half of his foot as well. Droplets of blood made a path from the door all the way to the bed, and it was still oozing.

"Jesus Christ," Jackson winced as she unceremoniously decanted a bit of the alcohol onto his foot.

"Shut up and sit still." Lisa cleaned the area, Jackson grumbling obscenities under his breath all the while, before gently bandaging it. He glared at her, temporary loath radiating from under his heavy eyelids.

"Have I mentioned lately how much you suck?"

"This, Jack, compared to tossed down a flight of stairs," Lisa rolled her eyes, wondering why she'd helped in the first place, before returning the medical appliances to their homes and tossing the bloodied hand towel in the hamper.

"Funny." He sighed.

"I'm sorry, by the way," she said difficulty, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jackson paused for a moment before looking up at her. His harsh gaze softened. He fed her a half-smile before attempting to stand. He grimaced. "It's fine. The door's heavy. Could've happened to anybody."

"Yeah, especially somebody stupid." Jackson cocked his head sardonically at her as she smirked, and she added, "That's what you get for stalking me when I'm in my happy place, Jackson. At least now you've learned your lesson."

"Your 'happy place'?" he frowned in disbelief, obviously trying not to laugh. "What the hell is that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. A concept my dad made up a couple of years ago. Whenever I would get agitated or upset by anything at all, he told me just to do something I liked and zone out. My happy place. That place for me is in the shower, or with a good book." Pausing, she continued with, "Don't you have a happy place, Jackson?"

He shrugged. "Probably only happy people have happy places."

Lisa cocked her head in concern. "You're not happy?"

"I don't think I'm allowed to be."

"Allowed by whom?"

"You."

"You can be happy," Lisa whispered. "I never said you couldn't be."

"Admit it, Lisa," Jackson turned to the bathroom. "You still have at least an ounce of resentment towards me. That resentment turns into a small drive for revenge. You wouldn't want me to do well."

"That resentment is written out by the other thing," Lisa shook her head, wondering what in the world she was saying.

Jackson paused. "'Other thing'?"

She fooled with her hairbrush for a minute before turning to the closet and shaking her head. "It's nothing. Never mind."

He leaned on the doorway, watching her walk. "Tell me. Please."

Temporarily shocked by his final use of manners, Lisa glanced at him. "You—you probably won't care."

"Try me."

"I…I think I'm starting to love you," she said slowly, her tongue elongating each word.

She heard the door shut and sighed, figuring that he'd been annoyed with her conclusion and had gone off to his shower. She turned just as Jackson wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

Lisa didn't have time to say a word before his lips joined hers in an embrace.

Jackson pulled away for only a second, those mildly swollen lips pulling into a grin. "What a coincidence."

She smiled somewhat drunkenly back. "Not necessarily."

He moved to kiss her again, but she held a hand to his chest and stopped him. "It's late, Jackson. The dinner."

He swore quietly before biting his lip in annoyance. "You're right. Rain check?"

Smiling, she moved back to the closet door, feeling his eyes follow every curve of her body. It thrilled her like she had never thought it would. "You bet."