He didn't love her.

Of course, he didn't love her. He wasn't the classic bad boys cliché who'd have to run after goody-two-shoes girls who were his polar opposites, or sassy, irritating girls who rejected him at first impressions like Audrey. Charlie Dalton was…different, as he'd preferred to categorize himself. Wait, he couldn't be limited to categories, or conformity, or…notion, as it may be. He was in his own realm, and, boy, did he love it.

He wasn't in denial, either. He knew his heart—he knew the beating organ, the seat of his romantic emotions well enough to discern it wasn't skipping its beats or leaping to erratic sudden stops and pauses as he felt when he was first in love. But he denied himself of ever being in love, though he remembered it vividly. He'd wished he forgot the ridiculous emotion Knox threw around Chris stupidly, limply. The ludicrous word complicated his life so, that he'd abolished and alienated it altogether. And she was, classic sentence, another girl to him.

They weren't in a relationship. He couldn't even label what they had. She dropped in most times and was off in the morning when he woke. She didn't cling to him. Did not 'fall in love' with him suddenly. And he appreciated her for that. She let him live his life as if there wasn't a girl. Did not whine to him about the girls in the cave. Hell, she even drunk herself silly with him some nights.

She was one of his best memories, he decided, until a night which caught him by the throat arrived.

xxxx

He had skipped out on one of the Dead Poets' meetings early when she dropped by to the cave (he wouldn't question why or how she found out about their clandestine society). Naturally there were some incidents and awkward greetings with the boys at first (Meeks didn't faint, good news), but they managed to head back to school in the dark, picking a spot under the tallest pine tree.

"Isn't it just romantic," she started, resting her head on his shoulder, irony sharpening her tone, "You, me, the stars?"

He chuckled, kissing her hair, "You sure don't mean what you say."

She returned his laugh. "I don't have to."

Her wit always threw him off. He tightened his hold on her shoulders, smiling at her. "So tell me, Audrey, what business have you at Hellton today?"

She grinned, kissing his neck. "You."

He grinned back, satisfied, "That would take long to finish, ma'am." He kissed along her jawline. "How would you like to begin?"

She rolled her eyes, her finger tracing imaginary lines on his arm, "That's a difficult question to answer, Dalton."

He shrugged, and pulled her close. His enticing whisper hovered near her ears, his hands already working at her jacket.

"Then don't answer at all."

The last traces of memories he had of that night was the sweet taste of her lips on his, the smoothness of her hair…and…

Blackness and infinity blurred his vision.

xxxxxx

"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?"

Audrey inspected him. Scrutinized his facetious appearance and voice. "If it were that easy, Dalton," she said, "Wouldn't we be lying in Cameron's bed and sticking our tongues out at him in the mornings as we used to?"

He smiled at the image she brought up. "And it isn't?"

She glanced at him in a way that self-consciousness immediately rushed to his flushed face. "Well, for one thing…"

"…I'm handcuffed—" she chuckled at the sounds heard from him struggling to break from his chains.

"—to a bed, and two," she turned to the porthole, "You're in a ship. With me—"

A cheeky grin was forming on his face, until she continued her sentence.

"—and my boyfriend."

She feasted her eyes on the rare sight of shock coloring Charlie Dalton's complexion. "Your—your boyfriend?" the line came out as a small croak, a pathetic, dying chipmunk's sound.

She blew off a stray strand of her hair. "Ex. I don't know."

He coughed. "I didn't know this was your idea of an ideal vacation."

She shifted a little on the bed, winking at him. "Maybe not for a getaway, but perfect for a kidnapping."

"WHAT?" he spluttered. "You—uh—kidnapped—me?"

She ruffled his hair. "Listen," she said, "My name's Christensen, not Williams. That's Hagar's real niece's name. Yes, I'm an impostor. A lookalike. But that's how I got to you," she traced his lips, "And I'm kidnapping you for the sole purposes of holding you for ransom. I didn't think up this plan. My boyf—Oh, God—Alex, let's say. No, that's his real name—planned the whole thing. Long story short, we're broke orphans backed up by a secret society in London, very much unlike that of yours, I'm sorry to say."

"That's a hell lot of information to take in in less than 5 minutes, Audrey—or wait, is that your real name? Or do you have a code name?" she admired his attitude, still being himself despite his changed backdrop.

"No," she laughed, "That's my name."

He sighed. "So all those times were…"

"Don't I deserve the Oscar?" she planted a kiss on his lips. "I was just the perfect target to lure you in first…and…"

He gasped for breath when she broke away. "Can't say I regretted any moment, though."

Her lips curled into a smile. "Just..keep still. Alex's coming in soon. We're taking shifts."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't wait. Oh, and I was going to say…"

She stood up, looking back at him. "Don't think a standard Dalton 'I love you,' will make me pity you and free you with the keys, which are not on my jeans' back pocket, which you'd better stop ogling."

He shook his head, still grinning, "'I hate you.'"

She pressed a kiss to his wriggling hand. "At least that feeling's mutual."

And closed the door behind her.