Disclaimer: Nothing, nadda, zippo, zilch.

Author's Note: I think I got a little too mushy at the end of the first scene with Kat. But I'm standing behind, one because I'm in her mood, which is why I probably wrote her that way, and two because I feel that deep down, she has a very soft center. Patrick is Patrick, he's a little more tender then he probably should be, but oh well, and then I did a nice little Bianca/Joey thing. So, I mean, I stand by the chapter, I like it a lot. Thank You so, so much, for the reviews, the alerts, and the favorites. Because you know what, you guys are my favorites! Yay Team 10 Things I hate About You! Hope you enjoy, happy readings!! It'll be a little hard to break 100 reviews, wouldn't it? Lol. Whatever, as long as you guys enjoy!

Kat had not said one word as they drove to wherever they were driving too. It wasn't because she was mad or he was mad, it was because he wasn't talking. He hadn't said anything since they had gotten to her car. Not that it mattered, she noticed it was only nine twenty, they still had most of the night ahead of them.

The only thing weird about their road trip was the fact that they were driving through a neighborhood. A very nice neighborhood in her opinion. The houses were not overly different from her own house, a little bigger looking on the outside maybe. But she knew they were not anywhere near her house, or her street. She'd even go as far to guess that they were on the other side of town.

Patrick drove with a steady ease, turning down one street after another. He began to slow as they neared a delicate looking house, that was definitely a good size bigger then her own, with a massive driveway.

"Where are we?" Her voice sounded hoarse, be it because of confusion or lack of talking she didn't know.

"Home sweet home." He gave her a smile gently getting out of the car.

"Wait," Kat step out of the passenger seat, her eyes staring at the beautiful white house, with the wrap around porch and blue shutters. "You live here?"

"Yep. My mom's not home so you don't have to worry about meeting her." Kat felt a sink in her heart, noting she wouldn't have actually minded meeting his mother. Anything to begin piecing together his secret little life. Because, even though she wouldn't admit it, she wanted to know how Patrick Verona was a bad boy-cowboy with a leather jacket, a motorcycle, and a horse.

"I wouldn't mind meeting her, one day." Her voice sounded so small, even to her own ears. She looked away from the house and received a large smile from the brown eyed boy.

"Ok, I will be sure to arrange it." He chuckled a bit and pointed towards the house. "Are we going in or do you want to just stand outside in my driveway?"

Kat made a face but didn't comment, she walked ahead of him towards the front door. She smiled to herself as his hand found her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze once they got to the door.

"So, should I expect any coffins or torture chambers?" Patrick let out a hearty laugh, unlocking his house and gently pushing the door open.

"We keep all that stuff in the basement. Sorry."

Kat let out a mocked sigh. "Oh well, I guess next time." She stepped into the house pausing as she entered the hallway. There was an instant warmth about the foyer as she took in the glittery miniature chandelier and the hundreds of pictures that were literally everywhere.

"My mom's a bit obsessed with cameras and pictures, if you didn't notice."

Kat sure did notice. There were pictures of various people, little children, older adults, most of them focusing on a younger version of Patrick. And, damn, was he not just the cutest little boy in the whole wide world?

"Wow, I feel like I'm at a picture gallery." She walked a bit, stopping at the long table that sat directly next to a doorway. Her fingers gently touched the smooth wood finish, picking up a picture frame. "Is that your mom?"

"Yeah." She noted that he hadn't moved from his spot leaning against the front door. She noted that he was watching her as she peaked into the frozen memories of his childhood.

"She's beautiful." And that she was. She wasn't overly tall, but she had a round face that was bright and cheerful. Her black hair was pulled back, accenting her long neck and debutant smile. It couldn't have been that old of a picture because the Patrick in the memory had no visible differences with the Patrick in the hallway. They were both standing, on either side, of Lucy's head.

"Thanks." She felt Patrick's hand on her shoulder once again. "You want a grand tour?"

Kat nodded, gently placing the picture down. She couldn't help the feeling of utter happiness as he gently took her hand and lead her through the massive living room, the overly bright and clean kitchen, the office, with a beautiful private book collection. She barely registered the stairs as he showed her the guest room, the upstairs office, and then finally his room.

Oh, and what a room it was. Kat stood, her jaw hitting the floor and her eyes the size of saucers. It was almost twice the size of her room and was decorated, wall to wall, with motorcycle pictures, band posters, and various beach prints. There was a section, on the far wall that held a collage of pictures, some of people, some of places, and was she seeing correctly, two of her. His bed laid in a corner, perfectly made. And there were no hints of dirt, dust, or unlaundered clothes.

"My god. I think this is cleaner then my room."

"Yeah, my mom is a clean freak. She's a bit obsessive compulsive. She's on the pretty pills." Patrick smirked, flopping on to his bed. "Well, does it look the way you thought it would look?"

"I'm still waiting for the coffin and the bats." She gave him a playful smile, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "This is amazing. It's bigger then my room."

"It's a master bedroom. My dad built one for him and my mom downstairs, so, I got this one." Kat turned and look at him, a shocked expression once again on her face.

"You're dad built their bedroom?"

"He's in construction." Patrick nodded. "He lives in San Diego, works for a big company."

"When did they get divorced? I know you were younger, but, what's younger?"

Patrick sighed, he shifted himself, grabbing a pillow to prop his upper body up. "I was six. They had gotten married right after high school, my mom was seventeen and my dad was eighteen. They had me after about six years of their little hippy marriage, and then, six years later my dad decided he wanted out."

Kat broke her eye contact with him, her eyes moving across the room again. "Definitely thought I'd have to fight to get that out of you." She turned back to him as she felt a hand on her wrist. Their eyes made contact again as he pulled her to lay next to him.

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat through his clothes.

"I can't believe I'm laying on your bed with you."

"I'm not sure if I should take that as an insult or not." Kat chuckled and looked up, locking eyes with Patrick.

"Your Padua's typical bad boy, the entire freshman class refuses to make eye contact with you. You skip school and talk back to teachers." She shifted so that she was half laying on him, her face inches from his. "And here we are, talking about divorces, laying in your bed, completely in our own world."

"I still have no idea whether that's an insult or not." He smirked, his hand moving to play with her hair.

Kat leaned forward and kissed him, her hands moving to balance herself over him as his arms moved to steady her. She pulled away and smiled.

"It's definitely an insult." Patrick smirked and loosened his grip on her so that she tipped to the side, giving him the perfect opportunity to reverse their position. Kat glare up at him.

"Admit it," Patrick leaned closer. "You love me on top of you."

"Pf, in your dreams Verona." His eyes widen as his face moved closer to hers.

"I think it's more your dreams then mine Stratford." Kat gave him a look, closing the distance between them.

She had to admit, as he laid over her, his body reacting to her body, his hands holding her and caressing her as her hands became lost in his hair, that she was getting way, way too close.

Then again, Bianca, the whole school, and Patrick himself had deemed whatever was between them as an official relationship. And that, well that was a little scary. Because if Kat remembered correctly, relationships didn't always work out the way they were suppose too. Patrick had admitted that he would probably, and please excuse the French, fuck up. Kat wasn't sure if she was willing to risk having to deal with all his stupid male tendencies.

Oh, oh, and don't forget her father. He would certainly kill her. Sure he liked Patrick as someone for Kat to hang out with, but as her boyfriend? Please. Walter G. Stratford would rather pull Kat from school and place her in a nunnery. She knew because she saw the various pamphlets he had gotten the day after Bianca snuck out and she had gotten a fake id. He was just the slightest bit insane.

Patrick pulled away, forcing Kat to open her eyes to the smirking face. "You're so very interesting."

She deadpanned, her eyes rolling. He just had to ruin everything, didn't he? Though, she thought, it was better then her ruining it.

"How so Casanova?" Patrick smirked, his body supported by his arms on either side of her.

"Because you wanted to move slow, but here we are, on my bed, in a very compromising position."

"And yet, we're both fully dressed and the notches on my belt still remain at one." She smirked.

"I can't believe you had sex." He gently moved so that he was leaning against his pillow rather then on top of her.

"This shocks you because sex is obviously something you're a stranger to right?" There was a tone to her voice. A speck of jealousy that she didn't want to admit too.

"No, because your dad is psychotic and I just made you out to be, I don't know, someone who was going to wait for the right guy."

"You wanted to use me as you're hook up buddy not even a month ago." Brown eyes morphed from jealousy to anger in a flat second. "So I don't know exactly how much moral fiber you think I have."

Patrick closed his eyes and shifted so that he could stare at the ceiling. "I didn't mean it like that on the roof, Kat. It came out wrong. I just, after meeting your dad and just knowing you from what I know about you, which is not a lot, I didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, my dad doesn't know and, quite possibly, Justin could have easily been the one, at the time." Kat, who had turned her head to look at the various pictures on his wall, turned to see his serious face.

"Justin, huh?"

Oh, well, damn. Kat made a noise and turned her body completely. She had not wanted that information to slip. It was one thing to admit to something, it was a whole different ball game to give it a name. A name made it that much more real. And as far as Kat was concerned, if it meant nothing to Justin, it meant nothing to her. She was sure that Justin probably just kissed it off as whatever and referred to her as 'that mousy girl with the crazy father'. Or, better yet, 'that girl who was mildly annoying sophomore year and then overly compensating junior year'. Because, as stubborn as Kat had always been and as passionate as she was about her beliefs, junior year was definitely an over compensation of her feminist rights.

"I don't want to talk about him." She made a frustrated noise, her hand roughly wiping at her eyes. "I don't want to talk about anything."

She figured it was the perfect opportunity for Patrick to call her out on just being another emotional female. Getting upset over absolutely nothing. Because Kat knew, she was getting upset over nothing. Justin was long gone. He had did whatever he had done and Kat was a stronger person because of it. And she had promised herself that she wouldn't fall for another guy until she was stronger then they were. Emotionally and mentally.

Yet, here she was.

Patrick said nothing. She felt him shift his weight, only to let out a yelp as his arm snaked around her waist pulling her close to him. The heat and the security that she denied but secretly loved washed across her. His head found the crook of her neck, his breath even across her face.

Kat sighed and closed her eyes, unconsciously pressing herself into him. Damn the falling and damn the hurting.

She felt good now.

---

"I'm sorry Ryan got sick." Bianca looked over to Joey and shrugged.

"It's not really a problem, I wasn't really feeling the movie anyway." She smiled and turned to look back down the road they were walking over. It was about ten thirty, but all the little shops and ice cream parlors and diners were still hopping from teenager business.

"Wow, you're so cool." She turned back to look at the pretty blonde boy. Her eye brows rose questionably. "I mean, Chastity would have been a total bitch about having to leave the theatre and not having a back up plan or whatever." Joey shook his head. "She's been really mean lately."

Bianca opened her mouth only to close it. In all honesty, she hadn't noticed a change with Chastity directly related to her. If anything the head cheerleader was treating her more humanly. Though, Bianca had caught Chastity and Joey fighting more recently. Most of the time with Chastity getting overly nasty to end it.

"I think she just has a lot on her mind." Bianca nodded. Such as, according to Megan, that Chastity was fooling around with a competing quarterback from Westchester High. Now, Bianca didn't know the whole truth of it all, but her heart tended to feel more for Joey then her 'friend'. "She'll come around."

"Eh, I don't even know if I want her to come around. She always makes me feel like I'm stupid or something."

"You're not stupid Joey." Bianca sighed. She stopped at a bench, grabbing his arm and pulling him to sit. "I think you're very," she paused. To say that Joey Donner was the next Albert Einstein was a little far fetched. "You excel in other areas, that's all. Like football and modeling. How many guys can pull that off?"

"That's true." Joey nodded. "You know, you're really smart. And pretty. That's probably why Chastity is so hard on you."

Bianca gave a small smile. "I think she gives me a hard time because Kat tried to destroy her mini-copper."

"Nah, she gets really mad when people compliment you." Joey let out a whistle. "She's a down right dragon."

"Well, that's ok." Bianca leaned into the bench, her eyes moving up and down the fairly busy street. "If I want to become a cheerleader I need to take the good with the bad, right?"

"I guess so."

The two blondes sat on the bench, their own silence doing nothing to filter the air of noise around them. There were cars driving smoothly down the road, music playing from various shops, all different yet mixing almost harmoniously, and the sound of laughter and talking as people walked past them down the street or into shops.

Even though she constantly lived out of a clichéd teen movie, as Kat put it so delicately, Bianca was definitely enjoying her teen-romanced night.

"I think you're great." Bianca paused in her search of nothing and slowly turned to look at Joey. There was a tight lip smile on his face and his perfect blue eyes, the ones country songs should be written about, were staring at her brightly. "I could have dragged Chastity out, or invited Camille, my mom's dog walker out with me. But I wanted you to come. I want to get to know you better." He paused. "Even though your dad is really scary. Does he take anything for that whole mean-ness disease?"

"We're looking into some medications." Bianca nodded, her eyes focusing on Joey. "Wait, are you serious? You want to get to know me?"

"Sure! You're smart, and your face is almost perfectly symmetrical." He reached out placing his hand on her forehead. "Five-head."

Bianca's tongue ran over her lips. "That's really sweet Joey."

He shrugged, taking his hand away. "But, seriously, how does your dad know all that stuff about sex and stuff."

"He's a gynecologist. It's basically how he makes his living. And I have apologized for that, right?" Bianca made a face, swearing to herself to hide her father's labor tapes.

"It's cool. I think it's cool having a parent who is all protective and stuff. My dad's never home and my mom gets headaches." Joey nodded his head. "She's usually always drinking some kind of fruity looking drink to help with it. Maybe your dad knows a good medicine!"

"Um, I'll ask." Bianca nodded her head, her heart swelling at the information of Joey's home life.

Honestly, Bianca wouldn't be able to handle having a laid back parent. Sure, sure, she has wanted one since she turned thirteen and her shirts started fitting just the slightest bit tighter around her chest area, but she couldn't handle it. She had been eight when her mother passed away. At eight the only scolding she had ever received was for playing in her mother's vanity.

And then, at the delicate ages of twelve and thirteen, Bianca had learned about the beauty of female organs from her father. Her overbearing, overprotective, completely crazy, father. Kat assured her, time and time again, that their mother would not have been the laid back one. Well, comparatively to their dad, yes, their mother would have looked like a parent who didn't give a rat's ass, but compared to some of their friends' parents, Kat and Bianca had something along the line of Nazi parents.

Which, no matter how she looked at it, at least she knew her dad cared. If she needed anything she could reach out and get it. Joey couldn't do that, Chastity manipulated her parents, Dawn's parents had a tendency to just say no, and Cameron was from a divorcee house, which, in retrospect wasn't that bad because it seemed like his parents did care about him, when they weren't at angry divorcee meetings or traveling the country.

"I guess my dad isn't so bad."

"Nah." Joey shook his head. "He's scary but I give him props." Joey looked at her and gave her a smile. "I mean, if I had a daughter who was as beautiful and as nice as you, I would be a little scary too."

It sounded like a line, but Bianca knew Joey well enough to know he was not that smooth. He basically only had the looks going for him. He was charming, not in a charismatic way, but a doofy, good looking way,

It happened rather quickly, looking back on it. All she felt were his lips on hers and the softness that the two created. Butterflies erupted across her stomach and the urge to begin giggling or skipping or jumping up and down spread across her whole body. It was her first real kiss. She had kissed guys, sure, but it was more erratic and truth or dare induced. This kiss was sensual and hot and dreamy.

Just like in the movies.

When they pulled away, Bianca gave Joey a large smile.

For a split second, as he shyly smiled back, her brain stopped on a single image of Cameron, and the look on his face if he had witnessed this secret little affair. A splash of guilt ran over her body, mixing with the butterflies and rainbows of the situation. And as the guilt splashed across her veins, and the butterflies began dispersing, a new, more violent emotion literally crashed against Bianca's insides.

She, Bianca Stratford, had just kissed Chastity Church's boyfriend, in public.

Crap.