A/N: you were supposed to be spared this, really. Blame VampireNaomi and her not-so-subtle suggestions to post the other Killigan/DNAmy stuff I wrote. Blame her, folks, and ignore the detail I'm supposed to have my own free will and could have spared you this stuff anyway XD

Stupidness aside (sorta), what I'm going to update here are mostly some random Killigan/DNAmy scenes set after their meeting in the previous chapter. And when I say random I really mean it: no real plot or much chronological order, just a lot of pointless humor. But hey, it was fun to write, and I hope it could be amusing to read as well ^^


"Are ye sure we have to do this, lass?" Killigan grumbled, pulling the paddles on the boat and glancing down at the icy cold water "we could have taken the samples ashore…"

"I'll need to analyse the water from all around the island to have a better idea of what kind of habitat the creature will live into, Duffy," Amy said almost apologetically, handling a vial to him.

Killigan rolled his eyes as he grabbed the vial and stretched overboard to get that blasted water sample. "Do ye just have to call me that way?" he protested. As much as the idea of having some kind of creature guarding his property attracted him, he was starting to wonder if it was really worth it – that lass' endless chattering and annoying cheerfulness was so unbearable that he regretted letting her on his island already. If it wasn't for the fact she had offered creating that creature for free, he would have kicked out of there already.

"Oh, don't be silly, I'm just being friendly," she said with a giggle, patting his back "there is no need to get all grumpy for--" she trailed off as a loud splash covered up her words, and she glanced down to the water to see Killigan's tam floating near the boat. Maybe she had put a little too much strength in that pat.

"…ops."

Illness was something that Duff Killigan absolutely despised – and not just because of the burning throat, the stuffed nose and the fever: illness also forced him to stay in bed all day…which was something he wouldn't really complain about, if it wasn't for the small detail that the weather was wonderful and his golf course seemed to scream 'come and play!' every single time he looked outside the window.

Not to mention the fact that he apparently wasn't allowed to stay alone and deal with it his way anymore – and who the heck had given her the permission to get in his bedroom?

"Och, lass, aren't ye supposed to be busy?" Duff Killigan snapped, refusing to look at the bowl of chicken soup she was still handling to him. Wasn't she supposed to be analysing the sample of water they had taken the previous day anyway? He was definitely starting to regret letting her on his island, no matter how interested he was in the possibility of having some giant creature guarding it.

"Here, here, no need to be so grumpy – this will make it better," she chided him, looking oddly amused by the whole situation – which was rather unnerving, considering that SHE was the one who had caused him to fall ill while taking those blasted water samples. One would think she would have enough sense to not pat his back on the boat while he was stretching overboard, but he had apparently overestimated her common sense.

A mistake he wouldn't repeat, he resentfully thought as he sneezed again. "I know what would make it better, and it's not that stuff," he grunted, barely glancing at the soup.

DNAmy simply shook her head as if she were dealing with an undisciplined kid. "You're wrong, a good hot soup is so much better than that rubbish…"

"Watch yer words, lass – it's scotch whiskey ye're talking about!" he bellowed – well, as much as you can bellow while your throat feels like it's on fire "and it always makes it better anyway," he grumbled.

Amy giggled at his grumpy expression. "Aw, don't take it so badly! You'll get a glass of that after you finish the soup, alright?" she cooed.

Killigan scowled. "What? Lass, I'm Duff Killigan – who do ye think ye are to boss me around in my own-- atchoo!"

Amy's grin widened as she handled him a handkerchief. "As you were saying, cutie…?" she asked as the golfer blew his reddened nose.

He grunted something, but he felt too weary to even protest as she called him 'cutie'. "Och, whatever – give me that blasted thing!" he barked, trying his best to ignore her almost disturbingly delighted expression as he took the bowl of chicken soup. Alright, fine, it did taste good, but he wasn't going to admit that in a million years.

"Feeling better, Duffy?"

Killigan frowned as he turned from the television to look up at her as she got in, once again wondering what in the world made her think she could just get inside his bedroom like that. He had to talk to her about that…once he had completely recovered, that was it. Speaking with her for more than ten minutes never failed to give him an awful headache, and he didn't feel like it at all.

"Aye, much better – and it's because of the whiskey anyway," he immediately added. He almost expected her to argue, but she simply gave him a huge smile.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're doing better," she chirped as she sat by on the bed next to him, pinching his cheek and causing him to snort.

"Aye, whatever – what are ye doing here?" he inquired, trying his best to ignore the small stab of nervousness in his stomach – she was once again too close for him to feel comfortable, and the fact she was in his bedroom sitting on his bed definitely didn't help. It was awkward, really – did that woman so utterly lack of common sense?

"Just checking if you were feeling any better – it was my fault if you fell ill after all," she said almost embarrassedly, then her expression brightened up as she held up something she had kept behind her back "and I brought you cookies! Just baked."

Alright, maybe letting her in sometimes wasn't such a bad idea. "With chocolate chips?"

"With chocolate chips."

"Sounds great," Killigan grabbed a cookie and stuffed it in his mouth before she could do that herself. Well, she was a good cook, he had to give her that.

"Do you like it, cutie pie?" she cooed.

Killigan grimaced. "Do ye just have to call me like that?" he asked over the mouthful of cookie, but she ignored him and glanced at the television

"Ooh, you're watching 'Agony County'!"

Killigan relaxed slightly and leant more comfortably on the pillow as she turned her attention to the soap opera on the screen. "Aye – these are the reruns though. I was in jail through most of it, and I missed a lot of stuff…"

"Yup, me too – I remember seeing you in jail a while back. You were there during Junior's little show, right?

The golfer shuddered as he swallowed the last bite. "Don't remind me."

"Aw, c'mon, it wasn't so bad," she protested, "I really liked it."

"Ye were the only one, lass," Killigan grumbled, clearly remembering Drakken's nearly terrified expression and Monkey Fist's scowl at the end of the show. Drakken's sidekick didn't seem to have appreciated it either.

"That's not true – his father liked it as well," she pointed out with a slight pout.

"Och, the old man would praise everything his son does – I bet he spoilt him like mad when he was a laddie. A stupid way to deal with a kid…" he grumbled before glancing at the screen "I already saw this episode in blue boy's lair," he said with a sigh "and I had cold that time too…"

"Isn't it the one in which Brock and Felicia switched brains?" she asked, absentmindedly taking a cookie herself.

"Aye – I got to the point they were about to say if the marriage was off, then that Possible lassie got me and I didn't get to see the next episode…" he grunted something about how there should be a television in each cell rather than just one in the common room and how unnerving it was having to fight for the remote control each time – which usually meant it was either Shego or monkey boy to decide that to watch – but she interrupted him.

"Well, I got to see a little past that point instead – oh, you just have to see the next episode tomorrow then! They tried to switch brains back, but then Ruth walked in, and…!"

"Och, no need to spoil it now," he protested "I still have to see it!"

"Sorry, honey bunny," Amy said apologetically, then her expression lightened up "but really, you wouldn't believe what happened! I'll bake you some more cookies tomorrow, so we can watch it together!" she said enthusiastically "how about that, Duffy?"

Killigan hesitated. Actually, he had been planning to get out and play golf the next day since he had almost completely recovered already, and the idea of staying in his room one more day, watching the show with DNAmy squealing every ten seconds wasn't precisely appealing…but what the heck, he just had to see if the marriage was off!

Besides, she had said she would bake cookies…and that could be worth the trouble after all. He lived alone, so he usually cooked his own meals, and sweets definitely weren't something he was able to cook: it wasn't that bad at all getting to eat such stuff now, not to mention that the whole breakfast-in-bed thing wasn't bad either. And…well, there was the detail that it wasn't that bad having someone to speak with sometimes, even if it was a clingy, disturbingly cheerful crazed genetist that seemed to have to idea of what 'personal space' meant.

…well, maybe he could wait one more day. After all, it wasn't like he had completely recovered…

"Aye, why not?"

"I can't believe he said that!"

"Yes, it was really mean of him," Amy said with a somewhat melancholic sigh "it wasn't her fault if she ended up with her brain in Ruth's body…"

"Sure it wasn't, it was him to mess up things. Had he locked that door, she wouldn't have walked in while they were trying to get things right again," Killigan grunted "what a whimp…"

"Well, it was a shock to him – he could always change his mind one he calms down a bit…" Amy said, unsure – she had never seen the next episode either, and now curiosity was eating her up.

"Och, he has no excuses – ye don't treat yer lass like that," Killigan shrugged "besides, who the heck cares if it wasn't her body? It was still her."

She giggled a little. "Oh, you know how men…well, most men are. Felicia's body was much prettier than Ruth's," she pointed out, looking just a little saddened by the thought for some reason.

Killigan snorted. "So what? If that's his problem, she's better off without him. Ye don't turn down yer lass because of her looks – that just isn't what matters. That lad didn't deserve her, and…uh…what?" he blinked as he saw she was once again too close for his tastes, looking at him with a huge smile.

"Oh, what you said is just so sweet!" she cooed, leaning forward and causing him to scramble back against the bedpost.

Alright, enough was enough. "Lass, I'm Duff Killigan – I'm not sweet!"

"Aw, I know you like to act all rough, but I know you're a softie!" she giggled, causing Killigan to swallow – now she was definitely too close "I wish all men were like you."

"Er…" Killigan gawked at her for a moment or two, the idea of protesting for being called a 'softie' not even crossing his mind "…ye're the first one to say that, lass," he finally heard himself say. There was a part of his brain that was screaming at him to get up and run…too bad his body refused to obey, and the rest of his brain was just too numb to come up with anything intelligent to do or say.

What the heck is she doing?

Och, lad, isn't that obvious? She's flirting, even a blind man would get it. Get away while ye still have a chance!

"Oh, that's too bad – I really think there should be more guys like your around," Amy said, giving him hug that left him gasping for breath and glancing up at him with a bright smile that caused him to swallow nervously. Now her face was dangerously close to his as well.

I tell ye, lad, if ye don't ran away now ye'll never get her off ye! Don't do anything stupid!

Killigan tensed, getting ready to push her away and blabber some excuse about how she was probably wrong and how he just wasn't the right guy for her. Aye, he would do exactly that. Eventually. Maybe.

…then again, maybe not.

Lad…?

Sod off, brain. I'm busy here.


As Duff Killigan opened his eyes, his mind still slightly dazed, he immediately registered two things: that he was cold and that he couldn't feel his left arm anymore. The reason why he was so cold was really pretty easy to find out – he just had to turn a little to his right to see his pajamas in a heap on the floor. And as for his arm…

He blinked as his mind suddenly got much less dazed and he remembered exactly what had happened.

Oh, crap.

I told ye to not do anything stupid, lad, but would ye listen? Nooo, ye wouldn't, ye're just as stubborn as darn mule…

Killigan took a deep breath and turned to his left. Amy was still sleeping, holding his arm as if it was a one of her plushies or something – and man, she had most likely cut off his circulation. A woman just wasn't supposed to be that strong, he thought. He was about to snatch his arm away from her grasp, but he paused as he looked at her face. She wore a small, content smile he had never seen on her face before. It was so different from her usual wide, toothy smiles that it caused him to freeze for a few moments.

Alright, it wasn't like he could just wake her up like that and throw her out or something – that's just something that should never be done to a lass, after all.

Besides, it's not like she forced ye.

Nope, she hadn't. Killigan hesitated just another moment before reaching down with his free arm to grab the sheets and pull them over both of them before leaning back down, facing her. Amy snuggled a little closer to him, and Killigan didn't even tense or try to pull back – there wouldn't be much point in doing that now, after all.

Besides, he thought somewhat confusedly as he pulled the sheets again to make sure her shoulders stayed covered – the room was cold, after all – it wasn't bad at all if he just ignored the fact he couldn't feel his arm and that he was definitely going to regret it as soon as she woke up…but, much to his own surprise, he really didn't care right now. Maybe his mind was still too dazed to actually process what had happened and what consequences it could have, but she was soft and warm and she smelled good, and to his own surprise the idea of never getting rid of her again didn't seem too bad for now.