Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warren checked on the two patrons in the Lantern and then went over to Emilie's booth. Pulling a chair from a nearby, he set it at the end of her paper-strewn table and straddled it. He laughed at the mess she'd made in a short time and leaned into give her a quick kiss.

Emilie pulled back and held out a folded paper contraption to him. "Pick a color," she ordered and rolled her eyes when Warren tapped on the red corner. "So predictable." She moved her fingers in quick succession, spelling out the color.

"Okay, now pick a number." Warren looked over his options and responded, "Eight. What are we doing?"

Emilie ignored him and counted off the numbers, shuffling the paper in time. When she'd made it to her destination, she lifted up a flap of the paper, and made a face.

"We are learning your future. Are you ready to hear what it is?" She smiled at him, asking him to play along.

"Born ready," Warren answered, mentally noting to never underestimate Emilie's ability to make him happy. Only she could play school-yard games while the rest of the world worried.

"I don't know," she eyed him, trying to size him up. "I'm not sure you can handle the truth. So I'm going to ask again: Do you, Warren Peace," she whispered, "hero extraordinaire and smokin' hot boyfriend, want to know how your life will turn out?"

Warren smirked when he heard the sobriquets and hooked an arm around her legs under the table, turning her to face him so that he could close the distance between them.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." Emilie blushed a little at the intensity in Warren's eyes and the mildly naughty thoughts his action brought to mind. She fell back into feigned seriousness, and leaning in conspiratorially, she read the sentence off of the paper.

"You will become a Scottish sheep farmer."

Warren laughed out loud before pulling Emilie in for a lingering kiss. She pulled back and smiled at him, basking in the favor she found there.

She gave him one more quick kiss before handing him a piece of paper and a pair of scissors. "Okay, we need to make a bunch of snowflakes for the party, so get to cutting mister." Emilie started folding her own piece of paper and looked back at him.

"Do you want to come over Saturday morning and help me make cookies? Layla and Magenta were supposed to come but both their parents were worried about them coming over alone, so they're just going to bake at their own houses and bring the stuff over before the party when Will and Zach can take them."

Warren nodded back, "Sure, I already asked off for the whole day anyway. But I don't have a clue how to make cookies, so I'm going for conversation purposes only." Emilie rolled her eyes at his response but smiled back. "Okay, sounds fair. Come over about ten, then."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lisette was leading her friends to the mall, when she caught a glimpse of something in a window that caught her attention: Warren Peace was laughing and making paper snowflakes with the girl from the dance. Hatred and jealousy rolled off her in waves; she'd gone out with Warren Peace for several months last year and the only thing they'd every done together was mess around and argue. Lisette stopped on the sidewalk and turned to her confused mignons.

She nodded toward the window at the scene going on inside, and heard gasps and exclamations of disgust from the girls. "I think we ought to stop inside, ladies," Lisette said, plotting. The girls caught on to the meaning behind her words and started smiling.

Warren swore under his breath when he saw the five girls walk into the Lantern and seat themselves at the table next to the one he and Emilie were currently occupying. He was instantly on the defensive. He stood up from the chair and turned to the table.

"What would you like to drink?" Warren glared threateningly at them.

"Five waters with lemon," Lisette answered him, matching his gaze. She smirked when he turned to fill the order. Then she turned to the redheaded girl in the booth.

"Hi," she tried for friendly, but wasn't quite sure if she achieved it. "I'm Lisette." She extended her hand.

Emilie smiled and shook it, holding back a gasp at the cold of her skin. "I'm Emilie." She smiled at the rest of the girls as well and went back to making snowflakes.

The blond interrupted, "We friends with Warren at school. How do you know him?"

"We're…umm, dating," she answered carefully. I thought Will and the group were Warren's only friends at school.

Her musings were interrupted when she caught the group stifling giggles and eyeing each other knowingly. She laughed unsure and looked back questioningly, "Is something wrong?" The girls silenced immediately and turned back to Lisette.

"No," she drew out unconvincingly. She leaned in to Emilie as though confiding in her, "It's just rumors, really."

Emilie gave a fake smile and looked Lisette in the eyes. "Oh really? And what do these rumors say?"

Lisette smiled back coldly at the girl, ready to do some damage. "You know, this and that. After he and I broke up Warren got a reputation for only dating easy girls. Usually ones with pathetic powers, who would do anything to date someone on the hero track. Not that you're easy, of course." Lisette gave her a once over.

"Of course," Emilie said tightly, face reddening in anger this time.

One of the other girls at the table caught on to Lisette's game and piped in. "Although, I did hear him bragging the other day about hooking up with his girlfriend to a group of guys in the gym." She covered her mouth with her hand as though she'd said something she shouldn't have.

Lisette saw Warren walking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned at Emilie deliberately. "Hmm, maybe you are easy. Oh well, I know for a fact that knocking boots with Warren isn't all that bad." She looked up shrewdly at Warren and smirked at the look of loathing he was giving her.

"Come on girls," Lisette said, getting out of the booth. "We've got better places to be." The girls followed her quickly, giggling all the way to the door.

Emilie watched them leave and then turned back to her own table, slowly releasing the white knuckled grip she had on the scissors in her hand. Stupid sluts, she thought to herself. She was disgusted by their petty act but what was really hurting was the betrayal she felt. Emilie started gathering her papers, unable to look at Warren.

"Emilie," Warren pleaded, stooping at the edge of the booth so she could look him in the eyes. She just kept picking up her papers, pointedly ignoring him.

"Look at me, Emilie." Warren demanded, but got no response.

He put one hand on her shuffling papers and the other on her under her chin, forcing her to look at him. He let go when he saw the hurt in her eyes and looked away.

"Did you sleep with her?" Emilie asked him flatly.

Warren turned back to her. "Yeah, I did. But that was way before you, Emilie. God, I would never cheat on you." He saw her nod, but the injured look still haunted her.

"We're there any others?" She locked her eyes on his. She saw the answer before he ever spoke a word.

"Dammit, Warren," she let out an empty laugh. "So how many girls have there been?"

"A couple," Warren admitted, but took the defensive. He leaned into her. "Look, it's not like they made it sound. Yeah, I've been with a few girls. All girls that I was dating though; it's not like I'm trying to reach a quota of notches for my bedpost." He winced as he realized how that sounded. He reached out to stop Emilie as she tried to leave.

"No! Em, look at me," he wouldn't continue until he'd gotten her to do so. "They were all in the past, all long before you. I'm sorry I never told you about it, I guess. It just never came up in the conversation, and it's not like we've gone far enough to warrant a talk about previous partners, okay? I'm sorry you found out like this." He kept his eyes trained on her, begging for her to understand.

Emilie sighed and tugged on a lock of hair, He's not being unreasonable. She took his hands from her shoulders, giving one a squeeze. "Me too, I didn't mean to jump to conclusions. It's just…," she tried to explain. "Those girls. Ugh, I can't …just, ugh. I know you wouldn't boast about that kind of stuff anyway, I shouldn't have bought into what they were saying. Sorry." She saw relief pass over his features.

"Don't apologize. And," Warren struggled to get the sentence out, "in the interest of full disclosure, how many… um, who've you, you know, slept with?" He tensed as she ducked her head; he cringed at the thought of any hands but his own on her.

"Actually," Emilie started, trying to look anywhere but him. Warren caught a glimpse of a blush. "I never…uh, got that far with anyone." Warren brushed away the part of him that told him he was being hypocritical because he was pleased by her answer.

He looked at her, "Okay." He smiled wryly when he saw her blush deepen, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of discussion. Warren decided to save her; he sat back down at the table and flipped through her stack of papers.

"So then, how many more of these snowflakes do we need?"

Emilie smiled to herself and silently passed scissors and piece of paper towards him.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Eric, can you get the door?" Emilie yelled from the kitchen, her hands full with bags of flour and other ingredients. She heard Eric stomp to the door, and open it. When she'd set the things down, she went to the door to find Eric and Warren sizing each other up. Stepping behind Eric, Emilie made the introductions.

"Eric, this is Warren. Warren, Eric." She smiled up at Warren and nodded for him to come in.

"You're cool," Eric said with admiration as he took in Warren's red streaked hair, tattoos, and leather jacket. Emilie laughed when she saw Warren's awkward reaction.

"Uh…thanks." He looked back at Emilie for direction.

"Kitchen's this way," she nodded and led him farther into the house. Eric trailed behind.

"Can I help make the cookies?" Eric asked.

Emilie looked back at him with raised eyebrows; He really must think Warren is cool. "Sure."

Emilie started right away, pulling out the rest of the ingredients, finding the recipes, and turning on the oven. She turned back to the boys to find Warren leaning against the counter and Eric mimicking his pose. She smiled at the two and pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

"Okay. Warren, can you and Eric start mixing the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies while I work on the sugar ones?" She waited for the complaints but didn't hear any.

"Cool!" Eric said, excited to team up with his new idol. "I'll get the butter and you start mixing stuff." Warren smiled at the bossy kid and took the recipe card Emilie held out to him. He pulled her in for a quick kiss.

"Dude!" Eric interrupted, grossed out. Emilie and Warren looked back at him and laughed. Warren tugged off his coat, tossed it on the table and got to work. The three worked contentedly, Eric making enough conversation for all of them.

"Hey, we need the flour!" Eric demanded of Emilie. Complying she slid the bag along the counter, causing it to erupt in a cloud of white when it hit their mixing bowl. She laughed at the flour dust coating the boys' faces and shirts.

"Oh, you think that's funny do you?" Warren threatened and nudged Eric. "Let's get her." Eric gave a whoop of excitement and followed Warren's example of grabbing a handful of flour.

Emilie waved her hand out in front of her as they advanced. "Don't you dare! Eric, put that flour down- Warren is not your moral compass!" The boys laughed at her protestations before covering her in flour. Retaliating, Emilie reached out to the nearest ingredient and ended up tossing a handful of sugar at the two. In seconds the kitchen and the cooks were covered in a myriad of ingredients and unable to stand for laughing so hard.

Emilie tried once again, "Truce?" She asked, holding up her hands in surrender. The boys nodded, Warren trying in vain to brush the food off of himself.

"Let's put these in the oven, and make the icing, okay?" She spooned the dough onto the sheets until there wasn't any more room in the oven. Eric put Warren to work, setting out the stuff for icing. When he got to the dyes, he looked again at Warren before fingering his blond hair. When he was sure Emilie wasn't looking, he held out a lock of hair and squeezed the red dye bottle over it.

Emilie turned around when she heard Warren laughing out loud, and nearly passed out when she saw Eric. She shook her head as she took in his appearance: he had red dye dripping from his hair down his face and covering his hands. She rubbed the bridge of her nose when she saw the look of pride on his face.

"Upstairs," she pointed the way. "Go clean all that off. Dad is going to go ballistic when he sees what you've done to your hair now." She looked at Warren incredulously when he held out a hand for a high five to Eric, and then watched Eric hop up the stairs.

"You are a bad influence, Mr. Peace." Emilie laughed as she crossed to him.

Warren shrugged and backed her up to the counter, trapping her there with his hands on either side of her. "You love it," he smirked, and bent down to kiss her.

Emilie kissed back, letting her hands trail up the muscles in his back until she could tangle her hands in that troublesome hair of his. She felt the heat of him sinking into her as he pulled her closer.

"Ahem," Carson interjected. Emilie jumped away from Warren and blushed fervently when she heard her father's voice.

"Hey Dad," she tried for nonchalance. "We're making cookies."

Carson eyed the kitchen, "It looks like you're making a mess." He settled his scrutiny on Warren.

"Come into the office with me, son, we need to have a little talk," Carson said, crossing his arms.

Warren returned his stare and nodded, following him out of the kitchen.

"Daddy," Emilie called, watching the two retreat. "Be nice."

Carson waved to his daughter before closing the door to his office. He sat behind the desk and motioned for Warren to take a seat as well. He took in the sight of the kid, and had a hard time keeping a serious face as he saw the remnants of an eggshell on his shirt.

"So…," Carson started; he'd never actually talked with one of Emilie's gentlemen callers before, but he knew he needed to do this. "You and my daughter are dating. Generally, I'm fine with that until I see what I saw in the kitchen." Carson looked right at Warren. "You'd better treat my daughter damn well, kid. If I hear you hurt a hair on her head, I will hunt you down. That's my little girl." He saw Warren give a small nod, before continuing on. "There's something else, too. Maxville's not exactly safe right now, and Emilie spends as much time with you as she does here, so I just wanted to ask you to take care of her when she's with you. No heroics; if, God forbid, an attack happens while you're with her, promise me you'll make sure she comes out of it safe. Even if it means you take the hit." Warren's eyes never left his during the speech, but now he looked down.

"I will." Warren answered solemnly.

Carson let out a breath; he actually believed the kid. He stood up and opened the door of the office, but stopped Warren before he left. "And keep your hands to yourself."

The two walked back to the kitchen to find Emilie and Eric pulling cookies out of the oven. Emilie watched Warren and Carson each reach for one from the latest batch and tried to assess what had passed between the two.

"Hot," Carson sputtered when he took a bite. He looked at Warren to see his reaction, but he just shrugged and reached for another cookie.

Emilie swatted his hand away, "Stop it, they're for tonight. Speaking of which, I need to clean the kitchen and then go get dressed before Layla and Magenta come over with the rest of the stuff. And since I can't trust you with the cookies or get anything done while you're here, I'm kicking you out."

She tossed Warren his leather jacket and laughed at his look of disbelief. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek since her dad was still in the room and started for the door. She leaned in for a real kiss once they reached it.

"See you in a few hours. Wear something nice, please." Emilie looked up at him.

Warren nodded and gave her one more peck before leaving. He smiled when he heard a yell come from inside the house.

"Dad! Quit eating my cookies!"

I promise that there is action coming in the next chapter. I just love to write about their little moments so much, and they really needed to talk about the sex issue because they are moving in that direction. Danger and smooching lurk in the future. And by the way, I think that if you sign up for a story alert you should leave a review- I have your names people. And I'm slowly getting around to reading the fics of everyone who reviews my story; everyone's is really good.

Please review.