AUTHORS NOTE: Please read and review! You can review by scrolling down to the bottom left hand corner and clicking GO next to SUBMIT REVIEW. Thanks everyone. I don't own DTNG, Craig…there's still some chapters left, keep reading!

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Evie hiked her skirt up another inch as she waited outside Ronnie's door, hoping for him to open it. She looked up at his marble mansion, searching to see if any lights were on. She loved his house – it was one of the most expensive, largest mansions in all of Toronto, featured in magazines regularly. Something about its glow made her feel successful.

Again she buzzed the doorbell, irritated. She buzzed it again, pressing down on it fiercer. He eventually discretely came to it, opening the door slightly with the smallest crack.

"What are you doing here?" he said, a small crack of light visible to Evie.

"Needed to see you," Evie seductively mumbled.

"Evie…"

"Is your wife home?"

"No,"

"Than why haven't you invited me in yet?"

Ronnie sighed and opened the door, shuffling Evie in in a paranoid fashion. Evie walked in and set her coat down on a coach in the hallway, laying the long black pea coat on the red leather.

"I'm parched, can Rosa make me a Martini?" she asked, taking a handful of olives out of a glass bowl on the bar.

"Evie, I'm done. With all of this, I mean everything. It's so complicated. I can't do this anymore, you're a kid!"

Ahh, I see, paranoia. I can change that.

"C'mon honey," she said, going back over to him. Evie put an olive in her mouth, holding it between her lips. She rubbed her body against Ronnie's, and leaned in to kiss him, suctioning the olive into his mouth. She had to do whatever it took, because all of a sudden the guilty feelings of a cheating husband were sucking him in. She playfully dropped the strap of her tanktop, acting innocent. If this is at least going to end tonight I want some more money, I need some shit this week…and those gold hoop earrings.

"Don't do this," he said, trying not to look at her. Just looking at her made him feel guilty, because he knew she was beautiful. Evie dropped the other strap to her tanktop, not even noticing it fall to the ground. She whispered something sultry into his ear, her hot breath tickling the side of his neck. Could anyone resist that? She kissed him, and he gave back in. Evie could always make him squirm.

"How long can you stay?" he asked, wrapping his hands around her waist.

"Just until eight,"

"I'll have the limo take you, just stay…"

Evie laughed as he drooled at her red silk bra. He slid his hands down her back, trying to undo the clasp.

"Sorry Charlie," she said, stopping him.

"Please! It's killing me!"

Evie laughed as he kept reaching for her bra clasp, but missed every time. She smiled as he kissed her neck.

"So, those earrings?"

"Huh?" he said, perking up.

"Those earrings you promised me? I have this gorgeous outfit, and I think they'd look great with them,"

"So that's what this is about? Jewelry? Money?"

"What? No!" she said, kissing him firmly on the mouth.

"Really, because I think it is!" he said, more aggressively. Evie got a little scared– he looked slightly outraged.

Shit, shit, shit…

"But I love you so much that I want to look beautiful for you," she pouted. Okay, now there's no way he could resist that.

Evie shot a sweet look again, trying to seem irresistible. She was going to do anything to get a little money tonight. She needed a fix, and quick. Her drug dealer would only be around to eleven. Though her taste buds were weak and dull since she started cocaine, she was craving some like crazy.

Ronnie kissed her again, still infatuated with her. As he kissed her neck she studied the marble counters all around her, hoping to see something she could blackmail him with. A small, golden box was sitting on a nearby counter that read 'E'. Bingo. She smiled, knowing she had accomplished those earrings. Evie grew a little bored as Ronnie kissed her neck. After a while, she decided she had had enough.

"Let go of me,"

He's going to try to rape me. Evie struggled away again, hitting and pounding on his shoulders.

"You little slut, you roll around here way to much taking all my shit and I never get anything out of it," he said, extremely upset.

"Help!" Evie screamed. For once, she didn't have all the answers. She was in a situation she had no idea how to get out of.

Hail Mary, full of grace, please don't let him rape me…

Ronnie heaved her onto the coach, angry. Holding her down she tried to kick him on the crotch, doing anything she could.

Ronnie thought he had it all planned out, and that no one would ever find out.

With a soft knock his wife opened the front door, walking in with her Chihuahua in hand. She slammed the door behind her, walking into the living room.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed in horror, dropping her dog. Ronnie was holding his hand over Evie's mouth, and she was struggling like crazy. Ronnie jumped up from the coach, tending over to his wife.

"Wait, Lisa I can explain…"

"Get the fuck out of the house! I'm calling the police! Don't you dare come one more step near me! Don't you dare!" she shouted, racing for her cell phone. Evie grabbed her clothes off the ground and ran to the counter, grabbing the 'E' box, than bolted out the door so the wife could never see her face. Syrup King of Toronto charged with rape. Evie could see the headline already. Strangely, as she ran down the street half naked, she expected herself to be scared, to be crying, or to be upset. Instead, she was just relieved. Putting her pea coat back on she pulled out a cigarette, lightly inhaling it as she ran down the street.

Evelyn Gabriela Campfield was a complicated girl.

I need a smoke.

"Craig, I'm ready," Emma said, holding onto Craig's belt loop.

Craig looked at her guiltily. She truly was passionate about him, but he couldn't say he felt the same exact way back. He liked her, but not in the way she wanted him to. Through her platinum blonde hair she twinkled an innocent look in her eyes, trying to get him to agree.

"Emma, that's a really big thing. I don't think you're ready,"

"Yes I am. Please, let me to stay!"

"No, you need to go Emma," he said, forcing her hands off his belt loop. This is like toying with a kid.

"We're still on for swimming at the pier tomorrow, right?"

"Sure,"

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," she said sweetly, though she was a little angry by his comment. Standing on her tippy toes she gave him a kiss on the cheek, than trotted out of his house innocently, like a schoolgirl on crack.

Emma Nelson just wanted to give herself to me. Why does that make me feel like some perverted old guy?

Walking back upstairs he raked his hands through his hair in frustration. That did not just happen. Entering his room Callie was lying on his bed, staring at his ceiling collage.

"Ooh, sorry," she said, propping herself up by her elbows.

"No, its okay," he said, closing the door. Walking towards his bed he laid next to Callie, staring at it with her and taking a huge deep breath.

"Its scary how much of this is my life,"

"I know what you mean," Callie replied, pushing a piece of her dishwater blonde hair out of her eye. "I like that picture over there, with you and the guy in the striped shirt."

"Which one?"

Callie laughed, turning onto her stomach. "That one in the striped shirt, with that guy,"

"Yeah, which one?"

Callie smiled – most of Craig's friends in the pictures were wearing striped shirts, how was he supposed to know? "Never mind. Have fun with Emma?"

"Not quite."

Callie studied his ceiling some more, noticing, though pretty covered up, a few pictures of him and his real father.

"Whoa, you still have those up?"

Craig eyes were drawn right to them – in an eerie way, just by her comment, he knew what she was referring to.
"Can't take it down. Its like I know he's dead, but part of me still thinks he's alive,"

"What does death scare you or something?"

"Not really. I just imagine myself dying an old people house with smelly jello and used bed pans…ya know, peaceful."

Craig turned his head.

"Does it scare you?"

Callie kept her head up contently at the ceiling. "Yeah. Because as much as I want to think I'm going to die like that, you never know. There's so much bad shit in this world – I could go to seven eleven tomorrow to get a diet coke and be shot,"

"Is that like your biggest fear, not dying humanely?"

Not being with you is.

"One of them,"

Water, that's right. Stupid Craig, stupid, stupid Craig.

"I think in the event that I did die, it would probably be with you and the smelly jello, but just the fact that I could get on a plane tomorrow and crash into the ocean just scares me."

"Well, I'd never let that happen," he said, reaching for her hand. Weaving his hand with hers he picked it up, kissing her knuckles.

"I know," Turning her head towards his face, Craig grabbed it, pushing it against his. What am I doing?

"Whoa, what was that for?"

Craig blushed. "Oh my god, I have no idea," he said, trying to get off the bed. She placed her hand back over his, smiling.

"No, its okay." Again they kissed, this time off the bed.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" she mumbled.

"Shut up. Just kiss me," he mumbled. Once again they were having a strange moment where somehow there lips unexplainably met. Still kissing they guided each other to the nearest wall, Craig pinning Callie against the off-white surface. He slid his hand up her shirt, and she didn't even care. With his free hand he slid his hand down to Callie's jean shorts, playing with her black fuzzy belt.

"Why did you have to wear jeans?"

Callie giggled, tugging off his lip.

"To see you like this!"

"Please, this is so hard," he said, in between kisses, "I can't take it." Craig followed, trying to undo her jeans.

After about ten minutes of kissing and swift undressing she slowly pushed him back, dropping him onto his desk chair. He smiled, and as he tried to get out of the chair towards her she pushed him down, straddling her legs over him.

"Callie," Craig murmured, as if he wanted to finish a sentence, but didn't. She bent down and kissed him. They were happy to be with each other, and it was perfect…until Craig stopped.

"Don't stop!" she said, smacking him across the head with her free hand.

"Ow! Callie, we're having sex in a chair."

"So, change of pace!"

"I'd just…I'd rather do it somewhere else."

"Somewhere else? Like what- Mars?"

Craig frowned, slightly embarrassed. "I'd rather in a bed."

Craig, being insecure about sex? He did it on a couch with Manny! A couch that the Downtown still sits on! And didn't HE start this with ME?

"Okay, well, we can't now," she said, pulling away from him.

"Why not?"
"Because you just ruined it!" she said, getting off of him. He grabbed her thigh, bringing her back.

"No, Call, please!" she grabbed her underwear off the ground, sliding them back on. She tenderly walked back over and kissed him, and in one last attempt to try to save the moment Craig pushed a hand down her lower stomach, but she wouldn't let him go as far as he wanted too.

He sighed.

"What's gotten into you?"

"What?"

"Pinning me down in a desk chair to have sex?"

"What? You started this!"

"No, you did!" Actually, she's right, I kind of did. "I love you," he announced.

Callie smiled. She really did love him. Craig got off the chair and slid his jeans back on, reaching under his bed. Pulling out a long, cardboard box he gently opened it, placing the covering on the ground.

"I was going to give these to you the next time we…you know,"

"So you were planning on getting lucky tonight?" Callie jokingly smiled, studying the fresh red roses.

Craig blushed - dammit; I look so bad right now. Taking out the dozen roses he presented them to her, making sure each velvet petal was intact.

"Crrraig," Callie said, stretching his name out in a soft tone. Smiling she walked over and took them out of his hands, smelling them. Holding them up to her nose she took in there aroma, grinning.

"I'll love you until the last one dies," Craig said.

"But, one of these is fake…"

Craig smiled at her, with that kind of look where you know you're thinking the same thing is him - definitely a good feeling.

Callie had never felt more loved in all her life. Setting them on his desk she threw her arms around him, giving him the biggest hug her small arms could muster. Everything was finally perfect.