Disclaimer: Don't own DPS. Except Audrey, and what's to come.

The Romantics, The Romantics….The friggin'…Romantics…

Where are they?

Charlie Dalton hurriedly ran his finger passed the volumes of books concerning classical poets on a shelf farthest of his hand's reach. To his surmised disappointment—if, out of sheer desperation, he had already been screening the library once prior to lunch time—there appeared, still, a gap on his desired topic.

The Captain had decided their essays to be handed in tomorrow, to his dismay.

He was half-way through heaving another exasperated sigh when a hand patted his back.

"Got anything yet?" Knox's sincere dark shades met his.

He gave a quick dismissal shake of his head, smirking. "D'you think I'd be sighing, then?"

There was something about Knox Charlie could not figure out these days. Since Chris, he was more—more, confident, perhaps, in his ways. Knox(ious) shrugged as a response to his retort, turning back at Charlie's confused countenance, and continued to whistle.

"Maybe," Knox said, "Since you're so oblivious to Mystery Girl's presence within sighting radius of yourself."

At Knox's mention of 'Mystery Girl,' Charlie whirled around from the bookshelves, eyes darting around the library, while his hand simultaneously hit his best friend with the book in its hold.

"Ouch."

"It's not Mystery Girl," he hastily amended in her defense for an unknown reason, "Her name's Audrey."

Despite still scratching the back of his head, Knox widenend his eyes, and his lips, an invisible light of understanding (to Charlie) breaking out on his face.

"Ah-ha!"

Knox's finger was hovering before his eyes.

"Ah-ha, what?" Charlie took a step back from the finger, his tone faltering in Knox's authorative, enlightened exclamation.

"You've got it out of her," the finger jabbed his chest, accompanied by the annoyingly cheery, teasing voice, "Made it your business to find out her name, didn't you?"

Oh. That. As if he didn't know Knox was playing the same old trick. He was hazarding a more drastic threat.

Recomposing himself after his split second of realization, Charlie erased the slightest hints of shock and vulnerability and traces of astonishment left on his face, subsituting them for his usual mask of smugness.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. Her name's Audrey…"

His sentence drifted, left in the air when inspiration flashed at him. He clicked his fingers, "Tell you what, Knoxious."

"What?" Knox piped up, looking quite eager that he did not mind the labeling.

"Me," Charlie ostensibly gestured at himself, then at the girl, "Audrey."

Knox automatically mirrored Charlie's action, winking, "And Me, the book, Got it."

"There's my Dead Poet," Charlie grinned, dropping the book into Knox's waiting hands.

She was sitting alone in the farthest corner of the hollowed hall, her back to the shelves, so conscientiously studying her text he feared of disrupting her concentration. As though sensing his shifting steps in front of her, Audrey looked up, her face expressionless, lips tightened into a straight line.

"I thought girls weren't allowed in Hellton," he spoke first, savoring the taste of her name. "Audrey."

She seemed immune to his emphasis on the particular word. "Well, aren't you supposed to say I'm a sight for sore eyes?" smirking, she put down her book, sparing him a glance.

He stretched out his hands in front of him mockingly, half-smiling, "Whoa, slow down there, doll. I've seen my fair share of girls during my days, not just you. Don't consider yourself special."

She shrugged. "I just know I am."

He tsked. "Tricky girl. Now tell me—"

Todd Anderson's mumbling voice interrupted Charlie's interrogative tone. Charlie turned to find his reticent Dead Poet stood—oh, of course, the guy practically lived at the library—nearby, his arms full of books.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Y—your books?" Todd uttered, struttering as he did, lifting his eyes at Charlie and Audrey. To Charlie, words escaping Todd's lips before a girl were considered a miracle.

Audrey simply motioned him to place the stack next to her seat. "Thank you, Todd," she smiled, shaking the boy's hand.

Todd nodded, pulling his hand from her shakily, "No problem, miss," and silently left.

As if signaling her queue, Audrey gathered her belongings, and, ignoring Charlie, headed to the exit without so much as a "That concludes our little morning conversation. Nice to talk to you."

Charlie was left standing, shaking his head.

It was not a rare phenomenon. He had come across girls who rejected him before, but those were what highlighted his conquests, brought excitement, unpredictability, and challenge into him. He wasn't going to let this one slip past him by.

He casually slung his arm across Todd, the action he openly wished he could do with Audrey. At least, before she had fled him. (If anyone could call it that.)

"Tell me," he said, "Tell me all you know."

Todd had his usual face expression on. If not in the presence of Neil, who evoked various emotions out of the quiet Poet, puzzlement was always on Todd's number one list.

"Um…she's a…girl?"

Charlie tapped him on the back. "Anything not blatantly obvious?"

That worked on him.

"Name's Williams. Checks out books on Conrad."

The first tap was followed by a more enthusiastic second. "That's my boy!"

Todd shrugged. "I'm just doing my job as an assistant librarian, Char—"

"Nuwanda."

"—Nuwanda."

xxxxxxxx

He was trudging back to the dreary old school doors after a long, tiring football game. His body was dripping with sweat, his strength wavering, and his mind drifted to Welton's culinary menu for dinner, regardless of the nightmares he expected to face.

He didn't pretty much expect anything else, really. Other than that time when he was chasing Knox back into class, the day of the formation of their club, shouting "Women swoon!" and laughing hysterically at Knox's naivety in the subject he fancied himself an expert, the school doors did not guarauntee him much surprising sights.

That was when he spotted her. Sitting on the marble steps, those long, gorgeous legs crossed. Looking as if she owned the school.

Had she unveil that wet towel covering her body, she would indeed have. For, but of course, it was him and him alone who caught her swimming in the school gym's pool. The image of her 'fashion style,' of knitted sweater and long skirt etched in his mind, he fathomed the old-style swimming suit females had taken to wearing these days, those obscuring what he privately labeled as their most alluring spots and curves. Instead, what his fortunate eyes glimpsed on her were what he thought he would never see during his days at Welton (well, apart from the Playboy stash hidden under his bed)—bikinis, which did its marvelous job of putting her hourglass figure (and cleavage, he added in his mind) on display for his pure pleasure.

He watched her dry her hair with the towel, as she pretended not to notice him. "That must've been a hell of a swim."

She raised her head, her voice skeptical. "I'll trust you not to swear in front of me, mister."

"Sorry, miss Williams," he replied, in a tone declaring the opposite.

"How'd—"

"Todd," was his simple and to-the-point answer. She shook her head quickly, attempting to divert his attention. "Tired with your football game?"

He grinned. "Not as much when I see my cheerleader waiting for me."

She scoffed. "I'm just enjoying the view in my seclusion, thank you."

His finger circled an imaginary route around him in the air. "Really, the football fields? The sky? The School? Sweaty guys, oh, that," he touched a strand of her wet hair, "would include me. You yourself were pretty fantastic in that swimming suit."

Her mouth was agape. "How'd—"

He chuckled. "Todd. No, I'm joking. Don't look so demented. I have my sources."

She kicked the dirt under her feet, musing, disinterested. "Really."

If this was going to go anywhere, he had to step up his act. "So, miss, free this Friday? My friend Knox's girlfriend Chris is having a party at her place."

He wanted to snap his fingers in delight. Nuwanda could really work his magic. She was tilting her head, her emerald eyes inspecting him from head to toe.

"Are you, Charlie Dalton, asking me out on a date?"

It was his turn to look shock. And by shock, he meant the genuine kind.

"How'd—"

She laughed, fingering her hair. "Todd. No, I'm joking. Don't look so demented. It really was him."

He whistled.

"Back on topic," she continued, "It's not that often, as I've heard."

He extended a hand to her, offering to lead her back into the building. She accepted silently.

"Consider yourself lucky," he said, feeling the softness of her hand.

A corner of her lips twitched.

"No, you consider yourself lucky, Dalton, that I've agreed to go with my stalker, as you've shamelessly proclaimed yourself to be."

xxxxxx

She was lying on his bed. No, he wasn't kidding himself. It wasn't a vision, and she wasn't breathless because of him. Audrey was fast asleep, despite the morning sunshine illuminating her face, alcohol faintly mixed in her breath.

He observed her from his temporary makeshift bed on the floor. Damn him for being too much of a gentleman.

"What happened," sounded from the bed. He carefully got up, sitting beside her on his bed. "Ah, you're awake?"

"No, I'm sleeping," she rolled over, so that her back was facing him.

"You're quite cranky for someone with a hangover!" he commented, smiling.

With that, she turned back, her eyes widened. "I was drunk?"

He clutched his hands. "Let me put it like this."

"Like…"

"You kissed me. And, uh, I don't know if I should tell you this—"

"Don't."

"So I'll tell you anyway," the sneaky glint in his eyes was disturbing her. "Because, well, obvious, I'd—"

"—shut it, If you're telling me, spill."

How bossy she looked, arms crossed over her chest in bed.

"Oh, calm down, love. We made out."

She let out a small gasp, and a British swear word. "Bloody hell. I wasn't drunk Dalton."

"How'd—"

"I was fucking brainwashed." …and an American one.

Just as he expected. He had his lines at the ready. With his signature smirk.

"I'll trust you not to swear in front of me, miss."

"Dalton," she glared at him.

"Yes?" he tilted his head, asking her obediently, "Wait, do you want anymore details? Because I'd be happy to oblige—"

"Dalton," she repeated, almost sternly.

He let her say her piece.

"I'd never commit such a crime…if my mind was clear."

"It's an honor," he replied.

"But…we didn't…go…very far, did we?" she asked, attempting to regain her composure.

He found it impossible to count, or even list, the number of girls who had asked him the all-too-familiar question. It was his favorite question to answer, in fact. He could shape the memories of his 'bed-buddy' the way he preferred simply with his words, or lies, to be more precise. In her case, he was feeling himself merciful (ridiculous, shouted out his mind. Merciful? When? Especially now when his sheets were rumpled because of her alone, and not them.), and decided to go with the truth.

"Close," he looked down at the floor, his voice emptied of emotions, "Pity, you were a pretty good kisser, though."

She licked her lips.

"How good?" her lips captured his neck, caught unaware. "This good?" a peck on his cheek. "Or this good?" a fleeting, tantalizing press on his lips.

He leaned in closer, his eyes closed, hand wandering dazedly for her face, lips to meet with empty air. His face stumbled over. She had already held back, chuckling, when he closed his eyes.

He made a face, attempting to conceal his rising irritation. "You're being such a tease, you know that?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Consider it your bonus," picked up her backpack, "And thanks."

Knox stroded into his room, passing Audrey on her way out, and turned to give him a thumbs-up.

He rolled his eyes. "Relax," he muttered, "Nothing happened with Miss Tease-me-I-want-to-be-Kissed."

Knox surveyed the room. "I can see you're happy, at least."

Charlie threw his hands up in mock defeat, "Oh. I gave her my spot on the bed, which should have been ours. I had to sleep on the floor. Yes, maybe I'm happy."

xxxxx

"Lost your way, Audrey?"

He wouldn't protest her label this time. He was, after all, standing in the position where they had several times before encountered. Stalker.

"I recall we've had this conversation earlier, Dalton," she said. This was an anomaly. Her long red hair tousled, she was wearing her leather jacket over a black T-shirt and jeans outfit.

And a helmet in her hand.

"Not quite often enough, in my opinion." There went his second line.

She smirked. "You're officially my stalker, know that?"

"And, something else?" he purposely blocked her path to the school doors.

"What?" she attempted to push pass him. "Get out of the way, I'm going out."

As if that wasn't clear enough.

"I'll drive you." He just said that to be fancy. His billionaire father didn't cough out as much as a single penny for his personal car. All he possessed was a bicycle, but he was determined to go down in his conquest with a grander vehicle than Knox's.

"I've got my own car, thanks." She was pushing his out spread arms.

He lowered his arms. "Well, uh, Neil's got a theater audition today, and I'd hate to miss showing up there to show him my support."

She seemed to take into consideration his 'excuse' for a moment, before nodding, "Oh, come on, stalker. If you're going. Get a ride on," and handed him a spare helmet.

xxxxxx

The theater was a perfect locale. The stage and the seats in all row were empty, except, to his glad knowledge, she was not aware of that fact.

"This walkway's pretty darn narrow," he murmured, as they struggled to head out to the main stage.

"Hurry up," she said, pushing his back.

He turned at her. "What, you've already went to your supermarket, didn't you?"

She shrugged, and pushed past him to get ahead. He laughed, the sounds echoing in the sound-proofed hall. "You liar of a Nuwanda! This place is empty! Why'd told me to come here?" He had remained in his place behind her.

Audrey started on her way back, when he grabbed her shoulders so she was facing him, his fingers tracing her stone frozen face.

"So I could do this." And his lips landed on her without further superfluous phrases. "This," a peck on her cheek. "And this," a fleeting, tantalizing kiss on her ear.

She trembled, looking into his brown eyes. "You're kidding me," she laughed hesitantly.

"No," he whispered, his lips mapping her neck."I'm not, Audrey."

She could feel his hot breath on her neck with every word.

"Dalton," she breathed, "Stop."

Her hands reached up to his wandering ones on her hair. He kissed her hand.

"Yes, Audrey?"

She played with his hair absentmindedly. He smiled.

"You're an evil little guy," she muttered, "Know that?"

His reply was a kiss on her lips, to which she responded.

"And a pretty good kisser, no doubt," he said, "That you'd have to admit."

She grinned, her finger trailing down his chest. "Maybe."

His free hand played with the hem of her shirt, hers to his necktie.

"Loose the tie," she ordered.

He kissed her forehead, hands fumbling with his clothes clumsily. "Yes, ma'am,"

xxxxx

"What's this?" she cocked an amused eye at the red lightning scar painted on his exposed chest.

He shrugged. "My lightning scar. Girls love it."

Audrey propped herself up on his chest with her elbows, staring at his smug face. She scoffed. "I don't."

Charlie chucked, lazily entwining her fingers in his. "The bad girls are my favorite."

Laughing, she leaned in for another kiss, breaking their embrace only to ask, "You knew we were going to do this, didn't you?" a jab at his chest. "What makes you so sure I was going to give in?"

He pretended to think. "My looks?"

"That," she traced a lazy circle on his arm, "Wouldn't be the first thing which attracted me."

A frown. Obviously another pretense.

"I'm joking," she confessed, and he mock sighed. "That's only a part of it."

"'Cause I know you wouldn't want to miss," he planted a trail of kisses down her neck with every word, "A. Single. Piece. Of Me."

She hummed softly, "Narcisstic Nuwanda."

"My words?" he suggested.

"Perhaps."

"The chemical attraction between us which I've felt since the first day we met and you've left it unrealized?"

She looked at him. "For you, that's a lame, romantic way to put it, Dalton. How about a simple, 'I think I'm starting to like you because you're somewhat like me?'"

He grinned, fingering her hair. "Fine with whichever way you put it, love."

She kissed his lips. "You'd better be…"

xxxxxx

"Tell me that wasn't what I saw," Neil paused to catch his breath, his back to Charlie's and Cameron's room door. A crowd of Dead Poets gathered around him.

"If by saw you meant a half-naked Nuwanda and that girl kissing the daylights out of each other on the bed, my bed, then yes. I certainly did see it," spat Cameron. His roomate had the nerve to lock him out of the room some nights, since that girl came into the picture. He refused to acknowledge her presence, or name, inwardly reasoning that she had greatly disturbed his personal peace.

"I take it they're together?" asked Knox, who had yet to move far to a stage as Charlie's in his relationship with Chris.

"I don't know," said Todd.

Neil carefully reopened the door, revealing a standing, fully dressed Audrey, Charlie's necktie round her neck, talking to an also fully dressed Charlie in his pajamas, on his bed.

They both turned to the Poets and smiled.

xxxxxx

A continuation :D I couldn't resist not mentioning his lightning!

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Your ever humble fanfic writer :)

PS. Not a typical girl. Sneak Peek at the next chapter:

"Where am I?" Charlie lifted his head, drowsiness overclouding his eyes. Audrey was sitting by his side on a bed.

"My bedroom," she answered simply.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

"Then why am I not naked and covered in your kisses?"