Disclaimer: I don't own Reid, I just like to play with him!

Author's Note: Okay, so here's another chapter for you! Kind of how self-destructive Reid can get, and how much fun the two can have together, and how much trouble they could get themselves into!

"Reid, are you sure your parents won't come home?" Lilah asked, glancing at each of the black windows of the house behind them. It was an impressive mansion in newbie American standards, even if it was Old Money.

"They could," Reid shrugged, tugging his t-shirts over his head. "But they don't live here." Lilah glanced at him warily.

"Reid, whose house is this?" she asked slowly, and Reid smirked as he let his jeans fall to the floor with his shirts and shoes, slipping into the hot-tub in his boxers.

"I dunno," Reid grinned from the hot-tub. He patted the water beside him. "Come on, get in. It's feels good." He relaxed, spreading his arms along the sides of the hot-tub and resting his head back. Lilah glanced down at him nervously, looked around the dark garden.

"I promise I won't let anything grab you," he smiled, and he won Lilah over: she shrugged her leather jacket off and stripped off her top and her ridiculously skinny jeans, and accepted his hand as she climbed into the tub in her black Love Agent Provocateur lingerie. Ooh, it is nice, she thought, albeit the water stung because it was so hot. They sat, Lilah resting her head on Reid's arm, watching the stars glint in the pitch-black sky. No clouds whatsoever. They were in for a good day tomorrow.

"So how many tattoos do you have?" Lilah asked, giving her an excuse to look at Reid's arms some more. His muscles were yummy.

"Six," Reid grinned. "What about you?"

"Four," Lilah smiled.

"I've only seen one," Reid said, sliding his arm around her waist and turning her over in the water, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. "Can I see the others?"

"Well, one's on my ankle," she laughed softly. "A heart. And these two." She'd never shown anyone her other two tattoos, except the guy who'd done them and the girls she'd got them with. She reached for the trim of her black lace thong and tugged it down carefully, revealing an inch more of skin below her belly-button. Two tattoos; on her right, a tiny, detailed swallow, which meant more to her than the leagues she'd sailed, and on her left, a tiny kanji symbol.

"What's this for?" Reid asked softly, touching the tip of his finger to the kanji tattoo.

"It means 'life'," Lilah said softly. Reid gave her one of his lopsided grins and gently pressed his lips to the tattoo. Lilah laughed softly, hands on his shoulders, pushing herself back and into the water.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Mr Garwin," she smirked tauntingly. He raised his palms.

"Sorry. What about the swallow? Why'd you get that?" Settling against the opposite side of the hot-tub, Lilah laughed softly.

"Figure it out," she smirked again. Reid got one of his devilish grins and his eyes twinkled playfully.

"You know, I like you. You don't blush like the other girls," Reid smiled. "I can't tease them like I can you. You fight back. So how'd you get so…promiscuous going to private all-girl's school?"

"I wasn't in a convent!" she laughed. "And it wasn't a religious school, either. We partied harder than anyone we met."

"That explains Saturday night," Reid grinned. "And the tattoos?"

"I got them mostly because my friends wanted one and weren't brave enough to do it alone," Lilah shrugged. "And every time someone pissed me off, instead of Using against them, I'd pierce my ear. Until my dad reminded me I only had two ears, so I stopped piercing them."

"What was the last piercing you got?" Reid grinned. Lilah blushed furiously. Reid's grin widened. "Can I see it?" He floated in the water closer to her, nudging her nose playfully.

"If you're a good boy," Lilah breathed. Her chest felt constricted; she couldn't breathe properly when he was this close. He wrapped his arms gently around her waist and held her to him, so she had to put her arms around his neck, staring into each other's eyes, almost kissing…

"Oh, god!" She gasped sharply as a light in the first storey of the house burst amber light over the lawn. "Er, Reid…" She pushed him away and pointed over his shoulder, and Reid swore as they both jumped out of the hot-tub, grabbing their clothes, giggling a bit too loudly as they ran across the lawn, cringing as the sprinklers turned on and sprayed them with icy water.

"Good thing we didn't park on their driveway," Lilah gasped, throwing herself into the passenger seat. Neither was dressed completely, and she had to laugh at the sight of them; Reid, his jeans still not zippered, shoving his feet into his shoes as he tried to get his shirts over his chest without them sticking. She squirmed as she tugged on her ridiculously-tight jeans, shivering as her wet bra soaked her t-shirt. Reid took a deep breath, rubbing his face vigorously, rubbing his palms against his legs.

"Do you need to run through the sprinklers again?" Lilah asked teasingly, and Reid gave her a dangerous smirk as he grabbed her leg, just above the knee, where the pressure-point made her really ticklish. Lilah sighed and settled back into her seat, feeling sleepy and relaxed from their time in the pool, and extremely comfortable with Reid's hand resting on her thigh.

"So what do you want to do now?" she asked, immediately regretting the question as her brain worked in overdrive concocting various scenarios in the backseat.

"I have an idea," Reid grinned, driving away from the house.

"What?" Lilah asked warily, glancing at him.

"You'll just have to wait and see," Reid smirked. He drove them back to the dorms, but made her wait in the car while he ran back to his room and returned with a black sketchbook tucked under his arm. They drove back into town, parked outside a tiny, inconspicuous shop in one of the back-streets, with only a sign over the door naming the place 'Azgard', and Lilah realised where they were when she saw the folders stacked neatly and a few photographs of brilliant tattoos mounted on the wall. The place was tiny; one back room for piercings, one for tattoos, and a front desk. The woman behind it had many piercings, one in each cheek that caught Lilah's attention more than the tattoos covering her chest and arms.

"Hey Reid," she grinned, and Reid shook her hand, smiling. "What can I do for you today?"

"I've got another design I want," Reid grinned, and he was practically dancing he was squirming so much with excitement. "And Lilah's gonna have a tattoo done too."

"Am I?" Lilah raised her eyebrows. She was already warm in the small room, and that might make her faint. Luckily she'd already eaten something tonight. Weighing her options, she grinned at Reid. "I am."

"Do you know what you want?" the woman asked Reid. Lilah glanced at Reid: he wasn't even eighteen, but he had six tattoos already, so she guessed he must have a fake I.D. She had her passport; her birthday was November 2nd. She knew that all Americans mistook the birth-date as being February 11th because the month and day were switched around. Reid flipped the sketchbook open and showed her a very neat shaded illustration of a cross with feathery wings and a delicate ribbon twisting from the top to a wide space at the bottom big enough for a name perhaps to be tattooed there.

"Lilah, you wanna look?" Reid asked, glancing at her over his shoulder. She flicked through the pages; all his work, it was amazing, some pictures a bit too graphic and grotesque for her, but there were some she fell in love with immediately: The one she chose was a rose, the outlines, no colour, highly detailed and beautiful. It was about two inches tall.

"Want me to go first?" she asked. Now that she was here, with the prospect of getting in the chair again, she was excited. Reid smiled. She got her passport out and a wad of cash. The tattoo-artists came out of his little room and checked her I.D.—with an inconspicuous flash of Reid's eyes he accepted it without question—and the woman wrote up a release form. Lilah chose to have her tattoo positioned halfway down her back, on her spine, so she had to undo the clasp of her bra, and Reid sat in a chair in the corner of the little room, talking to her while the artist prepared everything. He showed her the brand-new sanitised needles and Lilah bared her back for him, hugging the chair.

"You okay?" Reid smiled. Lilah nodded, wincing and trying not to squirm as the first sting of the tattoo started. She breathed in sharply and tucked her chin down, clenching her toes. She'd forgotten how much it stung to have her other tattoos done—that was why they were so small. She'd screamed when she'd had her neck done, and her friends had had to keep her still so it could be finished without being ruined.

"I'm impressed," Reid smiled, taking her hand. "Tyler cried when he had his done."

"You're next, remember," the artist growled, but he was laughing.

"Tyler has a tattoo?" Lilah looked up, curious. "Where is it?" A deep chuckle behind her, and Reid smirked.

"Ah. No wonder he cried," she said tartly.

"Alright, you're done," the artist announced, and Lilah straightened up, surprised. She felt really hot and queasy, sick to her stomach, and drained.

"What does it look like?" Lilah asked, and Reid went to stand behind her, looking at her back.

"Man, it looks great. Here, I'll take a picture on my phone," Reid said ecstatically. The artist finished up on her back, wiping away the excess ink and bandaging it. Reid showed her the picture; swollen and red, but beautiful, just like Reid's drawing.

"Can I go and sit outside for a few minutes?" Lilah asked, fanning herself.

"Yeah, go ahead," Reid smiled understandingly. "Come back if you pass out." Lilah managed a tired laugh and left the room: Reid and the artist started talking about placement and size of Reid's newest addition. She wiggled out of her bra and tucked it into her bag and readjusted her t-shirt. Standing outside, she took great gulps of fresh sea air before returning into the oppressive warmth of the parlour.

Reid was in the chair when she got back, and he called for her to come into the little room; she glanced over his shoulder and saw the tattoo already beginning to form under the artist's skilled fingers, just under the nape of his neck. Reid was shirtless, red-faced, biting his lip and gripping the seat so hard his knuckles were white in contrast to his black fingerless gloves.

"You okay?" Lilah asked gently, smoothing the hair away from his slick forehead, tugging the seat forward so she could take his hands, being careful not to lean back on her new tattoo. It took longer for Reid's tattoo to be completed, only because of the complexity of the feathered wings, but when it was done, aside from the swelling, it was a perfect reproduction of Reid's sketch.

"Come on, let's go back to the dorms," Lilah said softly, helping Reid sit down on the pavement outside so he could stop trembling. She smoothed his hair from his forehead again and helped him up off the floor. He smiled down at her as she put an arm around his waist and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Lilah sighed contentedly and they walked to the car.

"Okay, you ready? One, two—THREE!" Kira heard the breathless laugh, pausing to look over the gallery to the foyer, where the moonlight gleamed on very pale blonde hair, and the tall black-haired girl with the incredible boobs braced herself as Reid jumped onto her back, latching his arm around her neck, almost tugging them backwards onto the floor. The girl giggled chokingly and leaned forward, so Reid was almost pitched over her head. She stumbled to the doorway of the foyer and Reid grabbed the doorframe. Lilah hooked her arms under Reid's knees and stumbled into the foyer. "Oh shit!" Kira thought maybe Lilah had seen her, but she just stopped and Reid giggled.

Kira had never heard Reid giggle. She didn't know he was capable of giggling. They teetered past the house-parents' room at the foot of the stairs.

"Stairs," Reid giggled again.

They made it to the top of the stairs without injury, and on the second floor they halted abruptly, two gleeful, guilty faces pressing their lips together to stifle their giggles as they saw her. Reid poked his head owlishly over Lilah's shoulder and ducked his head, pressing his lips to her shoulder.

"Hi Kira," Lilah said brightly. Reid giggled and waved. Kira stared at them. They had obviously been drinking. She wished she could have that much fun with someone—anyone, not just a boy as cute as Reid. Lilah wobbled and giggled as she walked forward, still carrying Reid, past her.

"You guys realise it's four a.m.," Kira hissed after them. She always got up at four to get ready for school, even on weekends. Reid glanced over his shoulder and shot her a grin as Lilah stumbled under his weight. Kira wondered just how she was able to carry that boy! It wasn't like he was overweight, quite the contrary, he was toned and hot. She watched the two stumble over to a dorm-room down the corridor. Their whispers carried down the silent hallway.

"This is my room," Reid slurred, pointing to the door nearest them. "This is mine. I live here."

"Are you sure?" Lilah laughed breathlessly, slamming into the door with a stifled yell. The door burst open and Kira cringed for them as they fell flat over the threshold. Reid burst into laughter, his face beautiful and angelic, and rolled off Lilah, who rolled onto her back and couldn't stop giggling, her body curling up as she laughed, tears sliding down her face. Kira's stomach ached for friendship like that, the ability to laugh so uninhibitedly. Then she heard Tyler's voice as she crept up the hallway towards the other staircase, just so she could see what was happening.

"Where've you guys been? We've been looking all over for you!" A lamp flared on, illuminating the windows above the panelling, and Tyler's deep, concerned voice whispered softly. Lilah's laughter stopped and Lilah and Reid both managed to get up off the floor, clinging to each other, shaking with suppressed giggles.

"Have you guys been drinking?" Tyler asked, a smile lifting up the corners of his mouth, sounding a little amused and disappointed.

"Only a little bit," Lilah said innocently, holding her fingers up and swaying slightly as she focused on measuring an inch between her thumb and forefinger, turning her flushed face into Reid's chest as she giggled again. Reid smiled guiltily at Tyler: he took Lilah's other arm and wrapped it around his neck, carrying her over to his bed. She passed out quickly, curled up, and Tyler pushed Reid to his bed.

"But I'm not sleepy," Reid protested indignantly, with a great slur.

"Yeah you are," Tyler encouraged, and Reid nodded, falling forward onto his nice, soft bed. Kira walked slowly to her own dorm, feeling disconsolate. She doubted her friends would help her like that, make sure she got home if she was drunk and take care of her. Aaron sure as hell wouldn't. She knew that already. He would be chasing the shortest skirt he could find. It was nice to know, though, that Lilah could see through him. For that reason, Kira respected her. Lilah wasn't interested in Aaron, despite every time Kira saw him, he was trying to get Lilah to go on a date with him.

Reid woke to his stomach bubbling with burning acid, his entire body felt too heavy and everything still spinning. He bolted upright and dove straight for the pail down beside his bedside cabinet. URGH, gross, he whimpered, heaving the contents of his stomach. Finally, his stomach settled.

"What did I do last night?" he groaned, clutching his head as he lay down gingerly, testing his stomach. He glanced around the—thankfully—darkened room and settled on a note propped up on his chair. It was from Tyler originally: I told the nurse you and Lilah got sick from bad clam-chowder last night and you're both excused from lessons. She'll be checking on you at lunchtime—T. And a second part of the note was in a neat, elegant cursive he could barely decipher: Reid, it's 11:43. I'll be back in ten minutes. The nurse is going to check on me in my room. She'll be checking on you next.—L. P.S. There's still Pepto-Bismol in the cabinet and a fresh loaf of bread for toast in your fridge.

He could not even remember anything past getting his tattoo with Lilah and was trying to decide whether he wanted to hug her when he saw her or smack her. He felt like he was going to die. Reid groaned, kneading the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to block out the light. He felt around and put on the huge black sunglasses Tyler always used when he had a killer hangover. The bucket had been removed, no doubt Tyler had Used to clean it, and it was stored again under his bed. So this is what he feels like when he's hung-over, Reid thought, and the fleeting thought of being able to connect with his best-friend was squashed by the overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom, realising he was still wearing what he had last night, minus shoes and t-shirts. When he walked back into the bedroom he found Lilah sitting wrapped in a white towel dripping on his bed, her hair wet and curling, her hands clasped around a steaming mug of what he could smell wasn't coffee, but her preferred hot beverage, tea. A stack of dry toast stood on a plate on the chair beside Tyler's bed, and she munched on a slice while she watched the door for him, her clothes—jeans, t-shirts, underwear, folded neatly beside her, while she dried off.

"Nice of you to finally join me." Lilah's light voice was deadened by grogginess and misery of the headache equal in intensity to a jackhammer drilling her skull, the same as Reid was suffering. He nodded—instantly regretting it—and almost threw up again as he bent to open his trunk and extricate several t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and a pair of his boxers.

"Take a shower, you'll feel better," Lilah promised, in that croaky, deadened voice. Yeah, he did feel better, good enough to need a cold shower by the time he was fully awake, thinking about Lilah. Good thing there was no one else in the showers at noon on a Friday when they were all supposed to be in homeroom.

"How does your head feel?" she asked, squirming to sit up straighter as he sat down at the foot of the bed, shivering in the towel draped around his hips. "Dull, pounding, or axe-to-the-back-of-the-skull?"

"What was that last one?" Reid asked, wincing slightly as the clouds broke and noon sunlight streamed through the window. Lilah sighed heavily and stretched out on his bed on her stomach, tucking her arms beneath her, and he dressed quickly and hopped on the bed beside her.

"How'd you know the nurse was gonna come check on you?" he asked, frowning. Lilah sighed; he thought she might have fallen asleep. She dragged herself into a sitting position, careful of the weight placement on her tender back.

"Think," she said softly, crossing her legs facing him. She stared right into his eyes, and he thought she was reading his thoughts. "I am." He jumped back, and she cracked a grin. She could read his thoughts? Oh god, he thought, cringing internally at what she might have seen.

"Do you want me to teach you?" Lilah asked softly. Reid, always eager to do anything that involved Power, grinned. She settled herself right in front of him and he copied her pose, only because it was more comfortable, and licked his lips excitedly. "Okay, I want you to relax, relax your body, and stop thinking. And I'll know if you are…" Reid frowned bemusedly at her as he closed his eyes and let each individual muscle relax: It wasn't easy. The most amazing calm settled through him, and he got the feeling he wasn't just falling asleep, he was really at peace, like he was equal to all of nature. As he took a deep breath, he could taste the crispness of the turning leaves and the sharp tang of the salt in the air, the heat of the warming laundry downstairs. He could hear the worms eating at the earth beneath the building, the mice building their nests in the attic, the soft whoosh of the birds' wings as they cleaved through the air, could hear Lilah's heart beating in time to his own.

"Now focus." The voice came from far away, soothing, non-threatening, gently guiding him like a whisper through the leaves outside. "Listen to the voices." It began slowly, like going on a long car journey with the knowledge you'd get to the beach at the end, the soft rush of the waves lapping at the shore which was his mind. And then the whisperings got clearer, he picked out individual tones, expressions, and he couldn't work out whether the voices were spoken or inside their heads.

"What do you want to hear?" Lilah's lyrical voice asked, gently prodding him. He licked his lips again unconsciously, focusing on wanting to hear Lilah's thoughts. He focused on hearing the familiar lyrical thrush, and found her voice.

Well done, she whispered. Open your eyes. She smiled at him as he opened his eyes again; everything had changed, colours were more brilliant, lines were more supple, textures were more amazing to touch, even the cotton of his grey t-shirt-cotton duvet.

"The best part is, Caleb can't accuse you of Using," Lilah said softly, "because you can do that any time from now on, now that you know how to do it. You just have to focus. In time it will become second-nature."

"How many times have you listened to my thoughts?" Reid asked, red-faced and nervous. If she knew what he thought every time her face came into his mind… She smiled bashfully.

"I haven't, except just now, when I heard your voice in my head," Lilah said, and glancing into her eyes, he knew she was telling the truth. This mind-reading thing is awesome, Reid grinned. Now he had one-upped Caleb. He bet Caleb didn't know how to read peoples' minds.

Listen, her voice said sharply, and he focused, frowning. Outside, he could hear their female house-parent's voice, though he knew she wasn't speaking aloud. It was weird to listen to what other people were thinking. There was no logic; memories flitted across a blank canvas chaotically, emotions ran rampant until controlled by that person.

…probably just drunk. I swear, one of these days, he's gonna wind up on the side of a milk-carton, she was thinking, clearly aggravated. His friends always covering up for him. This is the second weekend in a row…I don't know why his parents couldn't keep him at home. He's more than a handful we could cope without having to deal with…

"There are downsides to hearing people's thoughts," Lilah added sadly, and Reid wondered just how many people shared this view of him, and who had thought what about Lilah. No wonder the girls in their classes were always being Used on. "I'll hide. Act really sick."

Easy, he smirked at her, and she grinned as she crept into the corner of the room by Tyler's desk. He stared as she all but disappeared, blending in perfectly with the panelling and the wallpaper, the cord of the lamp. He kicked his shoes off, messed up his hair, splashed water over his face from the glass on his bedside cabinet, curled up tight under his duvet and pretended to shiver and moan. The knock on the door came softly, and he could hear the nurse sigh heavily, the doorknob rattled and she appeared, disgruntled and—he sensed it before her features betrayed it—surprised to see him.

I thought it was that other boy, Tyler, the nurse thought, thrown off.

"How are you feeling? Your friend told me you had a bought of food-poisoning," the nurse said soothingly.

Tell her you'd rather just sleep it off, Lilah's voice guided him. This telepathy thing rocked.

Alright, Jean Grey, he thought, and he could sense rather than see Lilah's smirk.

"I was up half the night puking," Reid moaned, managing to make himself look extremely pale and pathetic. "I think I'll be okay after a few hours' sleep."

"Alright," the nurse bit her lip, frowning concernedly at him. "Well, lessons will be over in a few hours, and your friend can check up on you. If you feel any worse, just call down to your house-parents, alright." Reid nodded mutely, pouting into his pillow, letting his eyes slide closed tiredly. He listened as the nurse bustled out of the room and closed the door behind her, admonishing whoever had given the restaurant spoilt clams. Having the Power made everything so easy. Screw Caleb and his oath.

"When your father sends you the books from England," Reid said carefully, as Lilah reappeared at the foot of his bed, smirking lightly, "will you lift the curse on me?"

"I thought you wouldn't have the balls to ask," she grinned.

A.N.: Please review. I liked this chapter, personally. Since I'm afraid of needles, I'd never sit for a tattoo, so I'm living vicariously through my characters!