A/N: As always, thanks to my lovely reviewers. It's thanks to you guys that when my chronic insomnia strikes, I come down and write one-shots instead of vegging out in front of the t.v. now. Special thanks to Emmoria, Aqua279, smilin'intherain, moon-called-princess, plz,plz,plz, MorbidMandy, and Silverbird121, your gracious comments give me the warm and fuzzies each time I see them! Thanks, guys!

Now, for this one-shot, I know Derek is a little OOC, but I've always felt like he could have a really witty, playful character hidden under all the angst and self-recrimination, so I wanted to write something that would high-light that. The story's narrated by Chloe, as usual. The sentence "having sex with flaming animals" is actually used by shrinks to say that a person is demonstrating all three major signs of sociopathic behaviour, although you definitely aren't going to find it in the DSMV-IV…Shrinks have a weird sense of humour…Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, read and review please, and I promise to post something mushy and fluffy soon (maybe a continuation of Daydream Believer??).

Disclaimer: I have a History exam in 5 hours…if I owned Darkest Powers I'd be busy writing more books instead of torturing myself with school.

"I thought you'd read my file," he said. I sighed.

"I did. You're a werewolf, not someone with "anti-social personality disorder"," I exaggerated the air quotes, sitting forward intently as I made my arguments.

Slouching comfortably on the sofa, he put his hands behind his head, tilting it challengingly. "Do I know it?"

"You're so dense sometimes."

He pulled a mock-hurt face. "Chloe, you're hurting my non-existent anti-social feelings right now."

Honestly, professional debate teams have nothing on this guy…

"Well, hang on tight, buddy, because they're about to take a real beating in the next couple of minutes."

A smirk. "Bring it."

A classic line. "Oh, it's already been brought-en." His eyebrow raised, and I shook my head. "Line from a chick flick. Anyways, moving on."

He closed his eyes, ready to listen. I took a deep breath.

"They can't even diagnose anti-social personality disorder until the person's over eighteen."

"And why is that?"

I allowed myself a smug grin. "Because hormones can make people act an awful lot like sociopaths. I mean, look at Tori."

"I'd rather not."

Taking a second to swat him with my binder might have lost me points if this was a real debate, but it was definitely satisfying. "As I was saying, the best they can say is that you are showing signs that could potentially indicate a future diagnosis of ASPD."

"You'd make a great lawyer with your ability to say a lot without actually saying anything," he snarked, and I hefted the binder threateningly, narrowing my eyes.

He actually shook his finger at me. "Don't even think about it."

"Then stuff it. I looked the symptoms up on Wikipedia-"

"Obviously you only used the most scientifically validated sources-"

"I already told you to shut it. Once more and I'll smother you with a pillow. Now, as I was saying, the symptoms don't fit you at all." I pulled my list out of my binder, smoothing a folded corner. "You are not a thief. You don't lie for personal gain or pleasure, you aren't reckless, a dropout or suffering from narcissism, and you don't drink or abuse narcotics."

Smiling superciliously, he crossed his arms. "What about the aggression?"

My major points made, I relaxed back into the cushions, picking up a cracker from the plate between us and biting into it. Of course half landed in my lap. I directed a sigh at it, then refocused on Derek.

"One symptom can't ever be taken as proof of a condition, genius. And besides, you're missing one pretty major symptom."

Mr. Bigmouth didn't have to bite the cracker in half; he inhaled it whole, saving himself the crumbs and the annoyance of picking the broken half out of his lap. Jerk.

"And why's that?"

My turn to smirk. "No one would ever accuse you of using charm to achieve your ends."

"Touche," he said through a mouthful of cracker.

"Ready to admit defeat yet?"

"Nope."

"Fine, but you'll have to answer some questions, ok?"

"Yes, Dr. Saunders."

"We were discussing what actually makes a sociopath in my Ethics class one time, and my teacher said that shrinks use a sentence to sum it up."

"Which is?"

"Do they have sex with flaming animals?" I held up three fingers, pointing to each one as I listed my criteria. "Deviant sexual behaviour, animal cruelty and a liking for setting fires."

He was chuckling. "Wow, that's a fun visual."

Rolling my eyes, I held back my own smile.

"So do you like fire?"

"Yup, especially to cook my tortured animals over."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"Yup."

I sighed in defeat and grabbed another cracker. "Seeing as how you haven't burned anything down lately, we'll say that you don't have a desire to burn things. Now, let's see, killed any animals lately while not in wolf form?"

"Does wishing a painful death on the Road Runner count?"

"No." I started drumming my fingers on my knee, trying and failing to give him the "I'm serious" look. It's hard to be authoritative when you're struggling not to laugh.

"Then no."

"And lastly, have you been having inappropriate sexual encounters lately?"

A cheeky grin. "Aside from you sneaking into my bed and ravishing me last night?"

I jumped to my feet, knowing I was being baited but compelled to react anyways. "What?!"

He smacked his forehead. "Oh, yeah, that was just a dream." He winked playfully at me. "But what a dream..."

My cheeks fiery red, I threw my hands in the air as I marched out. "You're impossible!"

He just snagged another couple of crackers and kept grinning. "See you tonight," he called after me.

"In your dreams!" I shouted back from the hallway.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be there."