Yup yup, this pairing still has me hooked.

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again with the subtleties

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Angel frowned as she watched the teacher in front of her.

Ms. Brown was sweet and funny, and all the kids in her class loved her. They drew pictures, took naps, made creations from playdoh and even learned the alphabet. But for some reason, Angel couldn't help but compare her to Fiona. The beautiful brunette fashionista always had something creative and fun to do besides the monotonous days that the rest of her agemates couldn't even begin to fathom. Of course, her days were split between Ms. Brown's prekindergarten class and Fiona's house.

But she really liked Fiona's house better.

"And this animal is a—"

"Cat!"

"That's right!"

Angel toyed with her pencil as she entertained herself by finding shapes in the clouds. Her head itched but Fiona had braided her wispy golden curls into little pink ribbons below her ear and she didn't want to mess them up. Fiona always had cute things for her to wear, and today she decided to wear her striped pink and white long socks. And since Peter was picking her up to day, she wore the hooded pink cat sweater he had given her.

But it was already eleven, and the class hadn't ended yet.

By the time eleven-thirty rolled around, Angel was entertaining herself with some of her friends in the water box, making fun creations to stop the water from flowing to the bottom. The four of them had finally decided to stop using the toys and simply hold their hands in a line. It wasn't working, but getting splashed had been lots of fun.

Peter had barely gotten out of his class at eleven twenty-five and raced across town hopefully before Angel's class let out. His psychology class, while interesting, was ultimately a lesser cause than seeing Angel's stricken face if he was even moments late. She had a very large—but understandable—fear of being left alone.

Fiona would have usually picked her up, but the fashion protégé was currently designing a dress with some company and wasn't available.

"Peter?" Holly J caught up to him as he briskly walked into the parking lot, already unlocking his care with the automated beep.

"Yeah?" He answered distractedly, wondering how long it would take him to shake her off.

She frowned, checking her reflection in his car window and flashing a fake smile to check the glossing on her lips. Peter could already tell he wasn't getting rid of her.

"What are you doing today?"

He eyed her skeptically as he adjusted the backpack hanging from his shoulder. He hadn't exactly made it clear to his friends just how important Angel was to him. He suspected Riley may know a vague bit of its depth, but Holly J, certainly didn't have an indication.

"Picking up my little sister." He replied. It wasn't untruthful after all.

She fluffed her ponytail and rolled her eyes. "Seriously?" She opened the passenger without his permission. "Why? Don't your parents do that? And hey, you want to drive me to the coffee shop downtown? Blue's being real annoying today."

Peter wanted to bash his head into the steering wheel, but instead opted to run his fingers through his winter-wheat hair

"I pick her up because my dad doesn't give a shit about her." He grounded out, with ice.

Holly J seemed to blink back a bit in shock, before pursing her lips. "Oh…"

He eased the clutch and pitched into first gear as he turned out of the parking lot. Holly J seemed a bit more subdued from her usually riot-like mood, and had crossed her legs and had her hands in her lap placidly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It sounded like she'd have an easier choking out her kidney then saying anything close to sympathy, but even then Peter could tell it was sincere.

"It's alright." He smiled dazzlingly at her, and she blinked at its brilliance. "I don't mind. What coffee shop did to want to go to?"

Holly J turned to him with a bit of a smile, and he could see why Blue could like her a bit. Holly J was a bit like a lemon, with a tough outer layer and sour to the taste, but once the feeling really sinks in, it wasn't all that bad. He supposed he might feel like that because he'd simply hung around with her for so long that he figured out why she does the things she does.

"It's called Mocha and Company, and it's supposed to be better then Starbucks and Seattle's Best combined. Imagine…"

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Luckily for Peter, by the time he pulled into the parking lot of the preschool, Angel was still engrossed in her mini water park with her friends, and none of them had been picked up yet. Ever since Peter enrolled her, she'd constantly chatter about Michael, one of her friends she'd made. And from their closeness, Peter would assume it was the brunette who was splashing water on her.

He stopped in front of the long glass that separated the hallway from the classroom, which was used so that parents could watch their kids. He figured it was pretty unnerving for those poor teachers.

Peter stopped to watch Angel's cherubic, content face as she sat with her knees tucked under her little jean skirt, sweater sleeves rolled to her elbows and water splashed all over her. He could hear the clicking of Holly J's heels as she came to a stop next to him, thin arms crossed over her vest in what was certainly the newest in fashion clothing.

The girl didn't say anything as they stood in silence, watching Angel get to her feet with one of the toys Michael was using and race to the other side of the room as he chased her.

"She looks happy." Holly J commented, her eyes softening.

Peter nodded.

"I'm glad." He smiled. "She's never really had friends her age. I'm really relieved she's making some so quickly."

"Hey, isn't that your dad?" Michael asked, as he plopped onto the side of one of the green colored tables. It matched his eyes, Angel noticed.

Angel didn't bother to turn around to see who he was talking about, instead sitting opposite of him on the floor made of squishy jig-saw puzzles, holding the rubber ball she had taken from him that he'd lost interest in chasing after.

"He's not my dad." She retorted hotly. "He's my big brother!"

"Where's your dad then?" Tilted his head, his hair getting into his eyes.

Angel bristled. "What does it matter? Why do you care?"

Michael blinked in reeling surprise as Angel stood up quickly to put her hands on her hips and lean in close to him.

"I—I guess it doesn't matter." He answered after a few moments. "I just wanted to know if that was your mom."

Angel paused before turning around to see the glass screens where parents always watched them. She saw Peter, and she immediately brightened. His hair, the same color as hers, was sticking every which way and he was wearing a blue tee shirt over his jeans. And then she saw the woman next to him. She was very pretty, with fiery red hair tied neatly into a ponytail atop her head. Her eyes were sharp and bright, and she had a tiny nose. She wore the same kind of knee-high boots Fiona always wore, and a pretty and shinny dark skirt and a vest with a bright green long sleeve shirt under it.

Angel scrunched her nose.

While she was pretty, Angel thought Peter looked better with Fiona.

"That's not my mommy!" Angel crossed her arms as she turned back to Michael. "My mommy's a lot prettier than her!"

"But she's really pretty." Michael remarked, as he caught another glimpse of the red-headed woman from over Angel's head.

Noticing where Michael was looking, Angel stood on her tiptoes to block his view. "I'll show you my real mommy someday." She tugged her pink sweater with the cat face on the front a little lower over her jean skirt, wiggling her toes in her sneakers. "She's super pretty."

"Okay."

Angel then spun around and raced out the door, only backtracking when she remembered she had to get her coat and her bookbag filled with drawings and the book she wanted to show Peter.

As she whipped around, Ms. Brown kneeled to her level. Ms. Brown was pretty too.

"Looking for this?"

"My book bag!" Angel grabbed it readily, smiling politely as she did so. "Thank you." She remembered as an after thought. They had learned about manners yesterday, but Fiona had already taught her them. She forgot them though, sometimes.

"You're welcome." Ms. Brown answered courteously. Her curious eyes trailed over to where Peter was, whom she already knew was of relation to Angel. "Oh? Where's the dark-haired woman who always picks you up?"

Angel immediately brightened. "You mean Fiona! She couldn't come today, she's got work. She's making a big fashion project! And she said when I'm older, I could wear her clothes for real!"

The woman turned to Peter questioningly, who was engrossed in conversation with the beautiful girl next to him. She frowned in subtle tones. She was a bit surprised that Angel called her mother by her first name. It was a bit strange, but the dark-haired lady was very young, so perhaps it was simply something one must take in stride. Peter—whom she assumed from his near identical china blue eyes and lemon colored hair—was of obvious relation to her, and she wondered who this other, red-haired woman was.

"Have a good weekend!" The teacher waved to the young girl, who smiled as she ran out the classroom.

"Peter!" Angel cried, running up until she was right in front of him.

Her brother smiled as he picked her up, carrying her to the car. Angel opened her eyes to stare at the redheaded woman. But the lady didn't seem to notice.

She became curious as Peter clicked on her seatbelt when the woman got into the side opposite of Peter. Usually, the seat was left vacant or housed a vast amount of books. Sometimes, when they all went out, Fiona would sit there.

"Hi I'm Angel." She began bluntly with little tact. "Who are you?"

The woman turned around, a bit amused and surprised, and smirked. "I'm Holly, Holly J. But you can only call me Holly J."

Peter chuckled a bit, ad Angel felt a bit lost at their inside joke.

"Are you Peter's girlfriend?" She asked suddenly, but in her childlike wonder, altogether serious.

Holly J near burst into laughter. "Oh no, no, no," She waved her hands, before begin to giggle again. "Blue would be dying if he heard this." She whispered under breath, but enough for Peter to catch as he began to chuckle as well.

As they pulled into the coffee shop, Angel crossed her arms over her seatbelt. She could already tell she didn't like Holly J very much.

Angel entertained herself by propping her head up on her hands and swinging her legs wildly from the high tables. The newly opened restaurant was posh and filled with well-dressed pretty people, and Holly J seemed to fit in snuggly, and Peter didn't seem to mind. Everything was clean and shiny, but for some reason Angel didn't like it. She remembered when Peter had taken her to 'The Dot', near where he went to school. Him and Riley had become engrossed in their high school days, and would occasionally tell her funny anecdotes about her brother. Like the time he fell face first on a root when he tried out for cross country.

Holly J was a lot different then anyone else Angel ever met as one of Peter's friends. She liked Fiona best, because she explained everything that went on in a way Angel could understand. She carried herself different, and the way she fluffed her hair was different too.

By the time they left, Angel had her head cradled in her hand and Holly J had long since been swept away by Blue to the latest art gallery, and Peter was already picking her up and bringing her into the car.

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Fiona had her hair tied back by a silky yellow ribbon, the dark curls cascading down her shoulder over her very chic off white Prada dress. She was perched precariously atop a ladder, a thin pain brush in her hand and a palette in the other. The window to the courtyard outside was open, and the music was loud enough to drown out the doorbell from that part of the penthouse.

Angel was sleeping peacefully in Peter's arm this morning, and he checked his watch as he waited impatiently for Fiona to open the door. It was exactly nine ten, and his classes started in thirty minutes. And worse, it was chemistry in the morning. Followed quickly by psychology, and a small break until three where he had world history with Blue. Afterwards he had calculus, the annual headache of his entire day. It was only made worse by the fact he had completely slept through pre-cal and algebra2 because Danny always did his homework for him, and his cheating skills were immeasurable by human standards.

Such were the woes of higher education.

He hoisted Angel up a little more as he checked his watch again. Watching the hand click by wasn't going to make it go any slower, though. He had literally got dressed in the dark, sprayed an axe shower and rubbed some hold into his hair to spike it up. Whatever he was wearing came from his bedroom floor.

The door opened suddenly, and the relief he felt as it cracked open was suddenly replaced with an intense feeling of dread when he realized that the tall, built form in front of him was certainly not Fiona.

Declan had his shirt unbuttoned and revealing the chiseled chest that couldn't mean less than four hours at the gym—and he was perpetually wearing button-downs, be it to sleep or two work—and his hair mussed from sleep. But there was a certain awakeness to his smoldering, sky-like eyes.

His stare was uncomfortable—and he wanted to say unpleasing as well, but the word wouldn't get through his head—and made Peter shift his weight from one foot to the other and curled his toes.

Declan eyed the other boy with a bemused gaze, taking in the sleeping child, the straw colored hair that flipped out to the side and stuck up in odd angles and the dark black hooded sweatshirt and ripped jeans.

"Looking for Fiona?"

"Uh—

Declan opened the door with a suave smile, beckoning the blonde in. "She's this way."

Peter nodded soundlessly, clutching Angel a little closer as he walked down the immaculate hallways of the Coyne house.

Fiona gasped in delight when Peter carried Angel through the door, cooing about how adorable she was when she was sleeping and immediately had a bed set up for her in a sunny spot near the window. Peter thanked her profusely before he attempted to high-tail it out of there.

Attempted, because Declan was leaning against the wall beside the door, hair dark and casting shadows over his handsome features.

"School?" He asked pleasantly, and Peter couldn't help but be reminded of a great lion, beautiful in its power and born into its righteousness, toying with a mouse beneath its paws.

"Err—" He began eloquently. "Yeah…my first class starts in a couple minutes."

Peter tried to hedge away, one hand on the threshold of the door and the other clenched by his side. Declan was at least a foot away, yet he had him pinned with just a glance of those cerulean eyes, mesmerizing in their oceanwater tones and delphinium in the shadowy edges.

He blinked and cleared his head, trying to not be affected by the heady spell that draped over Declan like mist in morning, weighted with a compress of emotions.

"Better get going then, hm?"

The man gave him an elusive, easy smile, and Peter nodded, ducking out of the house before he could get trapped any longer.

So what do you think? If boyxboy isn't your cup of tea, don't read this. I don't care much for flames which have nothing to do with improving my writing.