Chapter Two! I honestly have no idea what I'm writing. Reviews are welcomed, as always.

"I set fires to fill joy." "That's adorable." ~Pitch Perfect

Layla obviously told Magenta everything. From the moment outside of the Principals office, right down to the last word of their assignment; she let it all spill. Ending with a giant, "So now what am I going to do, Madge? I don't have the right clothes, don't have the right body, I don't even know how to dance for Mother Natures' sake!"

Magenta rolled her eyes at her best friend, ever the narcissistic drama queen. For someone with such a happy demeanor and bright power, Layla really did look on the dark side of things sometimes. "Layla, quit being so dramatic. You've got the legs and hair to be a grade A slut. Yes that's a compliment. Also clothes, really, that's your justification for not going on the stupid thing? You know I'm loaded right? You've been my best friends since like, before my third ear pierce so you should know by now my parents don't give a damn how I waste their money."

Layla looked at her friend in shock. No way was she letting her friend's mother buy scanty clothing; no matter how much money they had. It was wrong, wasn't it? Then again, it was technically a school project. One which she was absolutely not looking forward to. At all. Even though she had the reasoning of it being a "School Function", she had to make sure.

"Are you sure Madge? You know how much it will cost." Layla worried.

Magenta rolled her eyes. "Only you would try to turn down free lingerie." Layla blanched at that word. "And yes I am aware how much it will cost. Especially if we go to Victoria Secret to get the good stuff. Which we will be doing. No exceptions." Layla smiled and wondered how she could of possibly gotten such a good friend.

"Your 'mission'", Magenta rolled her eyes at that, "starts in three days right?" Layla nodded. "That means we have two nights to turn you into a man magnet. Or in your case; a Warren Peace magnet." Layla blushed furiously saying,

"It's not possible Magenta. Warren said so himself. I'm the hippie. The hippiest hippie that ever walked the face of this Earth. I make freaking plants grow for Heavens' sake."

"Not when I'm done with you." Said Magenta mischievously. "When we are finished, even though we only have two days, Warren and all guys won't be able to take their eyes off of you. So how about today we hit the shops, and tomorrow, I'll teach you how to shake those feminine wiles?" Layla laughed at her friends insanity and moved to get up off the floor. They had a lot of work to do.

Meanwhile, while Layla and Magenta were spending a ridiculous sum of cash on clothing, manicures, pedicures, and haircuts, Warren pulled up to the Paper Lantern. His dick of boss Mr. Chang, refused to speak anything but Mandarin, and never let anyone be late to a shift. Ever. If Warren didn't need the money to pay for his apartment so badly, he would have told Mr. Chang to shove it and flew off into the night. But money is money, and the Paper Lantern had a respectable pay. Besides, bussing tables? Had to be the best way to preoccupy his hands and leave his mind open to think.

He thoughtlessly put on his apron, and, grabbing his carrying bucket started making the usual trips around the now familiarized route of the small diner. As he got into his monotonous way of his, he started to really think.

Layla. That one word had him gripping the edges of the tub tightly, already the smell of heated plastic filling his nostrils. What was he going to do with her? What was he going to do about himself? He had all the experience needed to dance at a nightclub; after all, what bad boys didn't? He used to go hitting the town. Tearing shit up and all that crap. Why should Layla be so different? She was a girl, he was a guy. What more could there be. If it was anyone else, hot for that matter, he wouldn't be having this problem.

He'd go with her to the club, dance like no tomorrow, make out, grab the drug and go up to the apartment. Easy peasy. So what made Layla so special? She was excruciatingly beautiful, that much Warren knew. Flawless even. With her creamy complexion, her gray stormy eyes, and long luscious red hair that would fan out over the bed as he kissed up and down her body, stopping when he reached…

Crack! Warren looked about to try and find the source of the noise, when he realized it was him that had caused it. He had broke a glass he was going to refill and the effect was a cut in his hand, which admittedly would heal quickly, and broken glass at his feet. Thank god there was only two families in the restaurant, or he would be in deep shit.

Even as it was, his boss' wife came running out and yelled at him. As she had always had a soft spot for Warren, she told him to go home. That he was "too distracted". She then told him that she knew all about the school's assignment and to not come back until that was finished. She had said a little rest would do him good and pushed him out the door.

Warren jumped on his ride and drove out of the little driveway, kicking up dirt and asphalt as he sped away.

On the way to his apartment complex, Warren saw two people walk out of the little shops in the town. Honestly, he didn't know why he slowed down. They were coming out of some pink girly store, with scantily clad hookers in the windows. Tori's Secret or something was the name of it. As he stopped for a red light in front of the shop, he could clearly see the two people that had just walked out.

One had jet black hair with purple streaks in it, and was dressed like an emo with too much eye makeup and holes in her body. But Warren paid her no attention. Because the girl next to her had captured all of his.

She had long legs, velvety skin and that long ginger hair. Warren was shocked. Had Layla Williams, the most Nun-iest person he had thought to ever live just walk out of a lingerie store? He at once calmed himself down. All of him. She must have just went in there to help Magenta pick out something. For Magenta. Not for Layla. Definitely not for Layla.

He had almost convinced himself that Layla couldn't have possibly bought anything when Layla reached into the bag they got from the store and pulled out a bra, holding it up to her chest. Warren sucked in a sharp intake of breath and growled. Black, lacy, and just the thing to keep him up and night. He closed his eyes and, sucking in another large pool of air, toke off down the road, reaching speeds he knew would never be street legalized. He had to move now, he couldn't even think about going back and seeing Layla. Standing there, innocent as ever, holding quite possibly the sexiest thing Warren had seen up to her chest like it was just for him. Like she was just for Warren.

He didn't need that mental image too. He had enough of her hair spread like wildfire, her legs and toes reaching up to desperately try and meet his height, and her lips. And his. Moving and matching each other in perfect synchronization. God what was happening to him! He needed to pick up what was left of his tarnished reputation and get the hell away from the she-devil herself. Before she made him do something he would regret.

He also needed to get laid. Soon.

For everyone else, the lunch bell couldn't have come fast enough. For Layla and Warren, though, it filled them each with a sense of dread. They had to sit by each other? At the Principals request no less. Not like Warren gave a shit, he was already doing some dumbass mission for her. But Layla, Layla was the good kid. The one that would run over her own tongue before being unloyal or not keeping up her end of a bargain. It was a good trait, one Warren knew not many had. Him sure as hell being one of them.

Warren made his way to his table, far in the back corner, with burn marks in the bottom. Gloves and book already in hand, he sat and began reading. Well trying to anyway. He kept looking at the words trying to form them into coherent sentences and ending up thinking about the way Layla stood holding up that damn bra. Biting her lip, looking down unsure, and sticking her chest out in the process. He growled underneath his breath. How dare she look she appealing. He was just about to burn yet another scorch mark into the table when someone dropped down beside him onto the bench. The smell of honeysuckle filled his nose and he was hyper aware of everything. The way her elbow was brushing against his, the way her knee kept knocking into his. Layla had arrived.

"Well, this sucks." Layla blew out a gust of breath, that smelled like fresh strawberries Warren noted, as she said the most obvious thing in the world. "Soooo, tell me about yourself Warren, what makes you, well you?"

Did she really not know what she was doing to him? Did she not know what affect her sitting so close to her was doing? Did she want to get turned into a pile of undoubtedly vegetarian soup? Realizing he was expected to answer he said the first thing that came to mind, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Warren wanted to kick himself. Way to sound mafia rapey. Please don't let Layla notice, Please don't let Layla think of it weirdly.

She didn't, and Warren thanked his lucky stars and the naivety that was Layla.

"Well let's see… um, I have the power to use plants and make them grow." Impressive, thought Warren. "I am a Sagittarius, which probably tells you way more than you need to know." So she believed in horoscopes? Interesting. "I love outdoors, obviously, and my favorite restaurant has to be the Paper Lantern." The Paper Lantern. The restaurant which Warren worked. Was Layla's favorite restaurant. Typical. "Your turn."

"I light on fire, I think horoscopes are stupid, and I work at the…" Warren was about to finish his sentence when a tall guy in neon yellow shirt comes and plops down right across from Warren. A short kid in orange followed, along with the girl that was shopping at the…lingerie…store with Layla. Warren was appalled. Layla he could handle; wanted to even. But her friends, not okay. He could feel his hands and arms rise in temperature, a defense mechanism the school anger management counselor had said. The temperature was about to rise even more when he remembered Layla was sitting next to him, her elbow still touching his. Instantly, he cooled himself. He would like nothing more than to melt her friends into grease spots, but Layla. He could not, would not burn Layla.

Layla turned to look at him, confused at the sudden temperature change. Her stormy eyes widened, her brows furrowed, and her teeth began sinking into her bottom lip again. Utterly sexy. Utter perfection.

Standing up and exiting the cafeteria, Warren decided to just skip the rest of the day. He couldn't spend another minute with Layla. Not if he wanted to keep all clothes attached to all bodies.

"Are you sure about this Magenta?" Layla frowned at the set of DVDs on her coffee table, not sure which to be more disappointed at. That the makers of these videos made money, or that her best friend owned them.

"Duh. What better way to learn how to dirty dance then to learn from a professional stripper?" Magenta smirked as Layla gasped. She couldn't do this, could she? Dance like a stripper, dress like a stripper, grind on Warren Peace?!

"Don't you dare back out now Layla Williams. You can do this. You are a strong, independent women who can grind on men and not feel the consequences of it the next day. You. Can. Do. This." Layla nodded. She was going to do this.

"Which one do we start with?"

The next day at lunch was different from the first. Warren sat down, book in gloved hands, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Layla and the rest of the super freaks. Layla sat down moments later, but no friends. Odd, thought Warren. After about a minute of awkward silence, nothing but the rustle of Layla's lunch bag and the wisps of her hair moving, Warren decided to speak.

"What, friends ditch?" Could he never say anything right? Now Warren sounded like all her friends ditched her. He just shouldn't talk to her. Why did he talk to her and not any of the others that tried? Why couldn't he ignore this one damn girl?

"I told them not to sit by us today. I thought they annoyed you a little too much." She gave a small smile as she said that, and Warren realized how much Layla knew him. More than anyone else alive. He looked into her eyes and she stared back, cloudy gray meeting liquid chocolate brown.

They held each other's stare for a couple seconds more, before Layla dropped her gaze and blushed into her lap. Warren felt proud of himself for some reason.

"You know we aren't dating." Said Layla. Warren looked up in confusion and the question must have shown in his eyes because Layla continued. "Me and Will. We aren't dating. We're just friends."

A whoosh of air let out of Warren that he didn't know he was holding. So his only friend wasn't banging his archenemy. Well that was good. Warren couldn't let her see how much this changed his whole perspective, so he changed the subject.

"So, tomorrows the big day. Nervous?" Layla looked up at him and he could see the crease in her forehead, the way she bit her lip and tried not to meet his eyes. The way she bit her lip…her red lips moving, pulverized by her teeth….

He shook out of it and walked away, not waiting for her actual answer. He really needed to stop walking away from her.

Then again, the same thing could be said with her biting her lip.

Layla and Warren got to stay home the day of the start of the assignment, Layla to get ready and Warren to do whatever he does in his free time. Because Layla obviously was lacking in the area, Magenta was also allowed to stay home from school. And by stay home, Layla meant stay at her house and get things ready.

First they packed all the things she would need. Sexy bra, sexy underwear, skintight this, skintight that, lacy this, lacy that, Layla almost fainting at the lack of space needed for all the articles of clothing.

After that Madge started getting Layla ready. Apparently, the school was coming to pick her up at five; from there they would go straight to the hotel room rented by the club. They would stay there for about an hour and then Warren and Layla would head to the nightclub. There was one thing though that had changed though. Instead of already being lovers, they would "Fall in Love" at the club. Which meant Warren and Layla wouldn't be allowed to see each other until they meet at the club. This, according to the leading school counselor will: 'make it look more realistic, and providing a useful reason for Warren to purchase the ecstasy such last minute.'

That's right. Just Warren was to go and grab the ecstasy in hopes of "making his lovers night."

Three hours, half a pound of makeup, a skin tight red dress, lacy blue underwear and bra, and six inch Fuck Me heels later, Layla was finally ready.

At exactly 4:59 a beep was heard outside. Layla grabbed her bag, said her goodbyes to her mother and Magenta, and got into the stereotypical black van.

"Miss. Williams, you are playing the part very well. I am Agent Grimm, and I will be in charge of you, Mr. Peace, and your safety." Layla nodded. "A separate van will pick up Mr. Peace and you will be going to the room while he stays in his van. At precisely 7:00, we will push you both into the club where you meet, fall in love, and you know the rest. Layla again nodded, and tried to calm her steeling nerves.

"Mr. Peace, I am Agent Chuck, and I will be in charge of you, Miss. Williams, and your safety." Warren gave him a glare, one the Agent took as a sign of compliance. "Also, the plan has been tweaked a bit..." and the Agent went on to explain the new plan to Warren. "One more thing Mr. Peace, the Principal has instructed me to inform you that 'the room is clean'. I am assuming you know what that means." At this Warren gave a slight nod, because that was good information. The room wasn't bugged, or had cameras; he wouldn't have to actually have sex with Layla Williams. He wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. Perhaps a little of both.

Two hours later, passed by driving, putting bags in rooms, and playing on phones, it reached 6:58. Like clockwork both Layla and Warrens' agents said, "It's go time."

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