*clears throat* Uhhh......HI! Well, I'm not dead, nor did I get kidnapped at Disneyland and never return. See, there was this little thing called life that just so happened to hit me in the face with a bat. It was great fun. However! I am back and I warn you now that my updates will not be as frequent as they once were. I'm still trying to get a handle on many things. In the past six months I have seen two people die, a friend have to get brain surgery (he can't move the left side of his face now), more friend drama than a person should be allowed to have, and now college is like an impending doom that has taken over my life.

I truly appreciate all those who are still rooting for me and who have supported this story throughout its entire process--you guys really really REALLY make a difference. This chapter is nice and long and hopefully it will sustain your reading-addictions for as long as it takes for me to get another chapter up. I really have no intention of dropping this story, but I feel obligated to warn you that, yeah, life right now is hard, and as such, my inspiration is waning.

I love you ALL and I really hope you enjoy this. Courtney is in over her head. And Duncan.... well, he's enjoying every second of it.

Chapter Nine

Courtney tried to ignore the sly look of her sister, spooning another mouthful of cereal into her mouth and keeping her eyes focused on the china cabinets in front of her. She hated that look. The look that would keen in on her until she got annoyed enough to crack—a masterful look only perfected by her sister and Duncan. It was an extremely irritating combination.

Even though her mouth was full, Courtney took yet another bite, attempting to crunch loud enough so that her ears were too distracted to take notice of the words she knew her sister would say.

"You like him, don't you?"

How did I know? she thought sarcastically, turning to Collette with as menacing a glare as she could muster up with her cheeks resembling those of a chipmunk. She forced herself to swallow before deepening the glare.

"No, I don't."

Collette didn't cease in her knowing smile. "Courtney, you were locked in a closet with him—I've never seen you so flustered around a boy before. And let's not forget the lovely pet name he had for you, right princess?"

Courtney slammed her palm on the counter top, making the milk in her bowl splash up in little bubble-like droplets. "He just does that to annoy me, the act of which you are succeeding in as of now. And I wasn't flustered because of him, because in case you hadn't noticed at the time, I had been stuck in a smelly janitor's closet for hours."

She sniffed and continued. "I would say any difference in my persona was quite justified."

Collette raised an eyebrow, intertwining her fingers in a diplomatic fashion. "I'm not blind, love. I saw the way he almost kissed you after I 'left'."

"He didn't almost kiss me!" Courtney exclaimed, scandalized. Had she missed something? Duncan hadn't been that close… had he? Her mind relayed over the instance in which he mentioned that she should appreciate his self control, leaning down and bringing her chin up. Oh yeah.

She gave a hurried response before Collette had time to insinuate anything. "He was just, er, being condescending." Maybe that wasn't the right word.

The darker-haired girl leaned her chin on her hand as she observed her in a skeptical way. Courtney put her hands up in defense. "I'm serious!"

Collette rolled her eyes. "Why was he being condescending?"

Crap. "Because I lost a bet," Courtney mumbled quietly, forcing her sister to lean further over the counter to hear. The older girl snorted, a hand dropping to her protruding stomach.

"You actually made a bet?"

Her tonicity is valid, said The Voice, bored. You never would have even considered making a bet if Duncan weren't involved.

That's not true! Courtney thought back, affronted. Of course, when fighting against herself, she half-realized that the argument was futile. Deep within her head, she knew it was true; she knew that having Duncan around spurred on different nuances in her life, little modulations that were slowly beginning to show themselves in more than just her thoughts.

How a boy could do that, she didn't have a clue. What she did know, however, was that it was an invariable liability. One that should be omitted permanently—she just had to figure out how.

"Yes," answered Courtney bitterly, deciding that she was not above sulking as she slumped in her seat. It was silent for a few seconds as Collette pondered this.

"He's not really your type—"

"Thank you!"

"—but I like him. And you two look good together."

Courtney felt her jaw drop, and was reminded of a swing's rope snapping off. Okay, she could admit that she was, possibly, physically attracted to Duncan. But even she knew what a 'cute couple' was. There were the couples, like Geoff and Bridgette, who just went together—the ones that matched each other, very much in the literal sense. She and Duncan were on polar opposite sides of the appearance scale. Beyond that, even.

They were the kind of people who could tarnish the other's image; they just didn't go together by nature.

Courtney ignored the pricks of disappointment this rationale brought her, and tuned her disbelief in on her sister. "Are you visually impaired, Ettie? Did you even see him last night? You know, the one with the green mohawk and the pincushion of a face?"

"He was cute!" Collette argued, laughing at Courtney's choice in words.

"Yeah, in a totally 'I'm-bad-and-you-should-seriously-beware-of-me' kind of way! Not exactly the kind of guy you can sigh and ogle over."

"I dunno," her sister drawled, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "he had something going for him."

Courtney sighed in exasperation and pushed her cereal away. "Whatever." She gently massaged her temples. "But now I have to go meet him tonight and 'perform my duties'. I don't even know what I have to do!"

"Tough luck, girl," said Collette (Courtney noted how she lacked any sympathy whatsoever) before she got up to wash the dishes that were piled up next to the sink. "Pass me your bowl?"

Groaning, Courtney heaved her body up off the stool and handed her bowl over to her sister, watching without any real intensity as the soap suds filled in over the leftover pieces of cereal. Her eyes wandered to the large belly swaying from side to side as Collette hummed a random tune.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked, timid. This was new territory—she didn't even know her sister had been pregnant when she left. The subject had to be approached with utmost precision and caution.

Collette's form stiffened, and then she let out a slow exhale. "A girl," she said softly, drying a plate with a white towel she'd grabbed from the cupboard above her head.

As she watched the smooth circles that the towel was wound into as it dried the drops of water lacing the plate, Courtney didn't take notice of how her teeth were gnawing creases into the inside of her mouth. By instinct, her mind sifted through a few names she had always liked for baby girls, and though her mouth opened to say them aloud, no words came out. After a few moments, she gave up and continued to watch, more unanswered questions peaking in her brain.

"And Ross?" she asked finally, specifying the name of her sister's used-to-be fiancé.

The water from the faucet splayed out in a drone-like fashion when Collette placed another plate under it. Courtney became entranced by the liquid shapes being formed against the china piece.

"…I don't know."

Her answer was simple. But Courtney knew from experience that nothing was simple. Not really.

"Duncan, you're going and that's final."

The said delinquent rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to contemplate why his mother was being so insistent upon forcing him to go and bond with his eldest brother and his new wife. First of all, he and Jake were close enough. Second, he didn't want to.

"You do realize," he began snidely, "that they just got off their honeymoon, right? I don't particularly want to be around a couple of smut-stricken, twitter-pated idiots while they coo and snuggle."

His mother waved his comment off, teasing her hair offhandedly with a small comb. "Oh, you'll be fine—Jake can control himself, and Jaime's never been one for excessive PDA."

Duncan groaned at the juvenile term. "Right. Which is why we found them making out, more than half-undressed, might I add, before they left."

"Well, it's not like they were expecting anybody to be home—"

"Mom," he cut her off quickly, "they were in the kitchen." He paused. "On the counter."

She opened her mouth to retort, but his dad's voice interrupted, piercing through the room. "Kelsey! We're going to be late, and I'm supposed to be there early." Duncan snorted at how nervous he sounded; apparently 'Officer Keiths' was supposed to be getting some sort of award at whatever ceremony they were going to for his services. "I have to go prepare my speech—you know that Alberts will be there trying to muck it up for me."

His mother sighed. "I'm coming, dear. Calm down—I'm sure Rob won't 'muck' anything up." She turned to Duncan, who was struggling to hold in his laughter. "Now then, I'll expect a good report from Jake when I get home."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "Report? We're going out to eat, not to jump in the middle of one of your cases."

"Just behave yourself, please."

He grunted in response, watching in boredom as she quickly finished with her hair and pinned her badge on, strutting out of the bedroom and snapping at his dad, who was still spewing out some sort of commentary on getting her to hurry up.

He hated having policemen as parents. And siblings, and cousins, and uncles… not to mention the two great aunts twice removed.

Letting out a sigh, Duncan closed the door to his parents room as he walked out, keeping his face stoic when he walked down the hall only to meet up with the scorching mental image of his brother and sister-in-law passionately intertwined in some ravaging sort of lip-lock. He winced.

"Will you two stop playing tonsil tag so we can get this over with?" His brow rose when Jaime practically sprung off of his brother, face flushing. Jake merely looked annoyed.

"Why do you want to go now?" his brother finally asked, scratching the back of his head as he wiped splotches of lipstick off of his mouth. "Mom and dad won't be back until late tonight—"

"Actually, I think your mom told me she was planning on surprising your dad with a hotel room as a… congratulatory reward for winning his award tonight," Jaime cut in, clearing her throat.

Oh, the horror. Duncan felt a grimace sport on his face as he thought upon the 'congratulatory reward' his parents would be participating in. Sick.

"See?" Jake held out his hands in front of him. "We'll go tonight."

"I can't go tonight," Duncan protested after ridding his mind off all the traumatizing mental pictures and crossing his arms. Jake raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

The corners of Duncan's lips turned upwards slyly. "I have a date."

Jake snorted. "You? On a date?" Of course, his skeptical tone wasn't surprising. Neither Duncan nor his brothers were really the dating type. The closest thing Duncan had ever experienced to a date was being introduced to a girl in a club (whom he had proceeded to kiss until he got bored—in other words, what any other respectable teenage boy would do in the same situation) his brother Brent had gotten him into, and even that was arguable. She hadn't been that interested either, after all.

"Cute!" Jaime gushed, sweeping her hair behind her shoulders. "Can we meet her?"

"I hope this one doesn't ask for some 'smokes'…"

Duncan grinned at the reference to the last girl his family had met. "So she was a little unrefined—"

"She was wearing a shirt that said 'Don't screw with me…unless you bring condoms.'" Jake frowned, crinkling his nose. "I think that was a bit more than unrefined."

"She was hot," Duncan shrugged, grin broadening. "And besides, this one would probably pass out from the smell of cigarette smoke, not to mention start a petition banning 'crude language' from shirts if she ever saw a sexual reference on one."

Duncan's mind went into an amused comatose state as he pondered this; he ignored his brother's laughter at how he could possibly be interested in a girl like that, and automatically coerced the newlyweds off the couch and into the car. He made a mental note to wear a shirt like that, if for no purpose other than to see just how Courtney would react.

He lethargically sprawled out in the backseat of the car, eyes lazily roaming the outside world as it became a physical blur. It was only twelve-thirty, and he was already bored. The hours until five o'clock seemed so far away it only made him more bored to think about it.

Jaime pulled him from his revere. "So," she started teasingly, "when are you going to join in the family business? Jake started training when he was your age."

She laughed when he casually flipped her off, sitting up straighter in the seat. "You're hilarious," he drawled sarcastically, tweaking one of his earrings.

"Conforming to our family's standards isn't really that bad, Duncan," added Jake, looking in the rearview mirror to smile smugly at him. "It pays well, and you meet really attractive girls." Jaime rolled her eyes and grinned at him.

Duncan didn't bother to hide his twitch at their disgusting display of flirting.

It had always been a running joke with his brothers, his whole extended family, actually, that Duncan would finally give in and stop his 'rebellion'. Yeah, right. He was hardly rebelling—it was more of his way of patronizing his parents and driving the rest of the relatives crazy.

But it wasn't like they could relate, even if they said they could. While he loved that he could drive all of them past the boundaries of frustration with his more unlawful antics, it was difficult to have more than twenty pairs of eyes watching his every move. He was the epitome of the black sheep in any family.

He relished that fact.

It didn't take much longer until they reached the 'main street' of the area; a town square with dainty little antique stores and name-oriented restaurants. The scene of himself stepping out of the car and frightening all the happy-go-lucky residents of the shops with his mere appearance entered his head randomly.

The thought coerced an entertained chuckle out of his throat.

"Alright, where to?" Jake inquired as he pulled up along the curb of the street.

Duncan tapped at the phone in his pocket offhandedly. He turned his less than interested gaze to an ice-cream store across from where they were parked, gleaming in all it's cheery-kid-friendly glory. He opened his mouth to aim a scathingly sarcastic comment at it when Jaime unknowingly interrupted him.

"Ice-cream! I suddenly have a desire to satisfy my sweet tooth—let's go there!"

Duncan made a face, his lips curling at her overly-excited tone. "Seriously?" he groaned, pushing open the door. "Because when you can see your reflection on the tile, the place becomes a real turn-off," he added after catching a glimpse of the shining floors when a small girl went skipping out of the store, the sprinkles of her cone leaving a trail behind her as she swayed giddily.

His contempt increased ten-fold when he heard one of those despicably atrocious over-played barbershop songs chiming in the background when they neared the building.

"It's just ice-cream," reasoned Jake, pulling the door open, a high-pitched bell signifying their entrance when the door clanged against it. "Besides, once we're done you can go off and do anything your criminal mind can come up with. I'm off duty."

Duncan hunched his shoulders, sighing. If his parents wanted him to be babysat, so be it. And it wasn't like Jake wanted to play the part of the watchdog either—they just had to deal with it until their mom was appeased and their dad satisfied, both stuck in the ridiculous mentality that Jake's influence would 'spread' to Duncan.

Please. But, it was worth it if they remained somewhat content; at times it got rather… tense between himself and his parents. It was better if he just went along with their fantasies: one being bonding time.

Sometimes, he wondered if he cared too much.

And he didn't even like ice-cream.

"Anything catch your eye?" Jaime asked, her eyes glued to the many different flavors under the glass of the counter.

"I'm not sure," Duncan began snidely. "It's a hard decision—pink cotton candy swirl or sweet bubblegum chew." Jake, who had been talking to the cashier, discreetly covered up a snort of laughter with a cough.

He derisively blocked out anything his sister-in-law said in response, leaning back on his heels and turning to look out the large windows lining the store walls. His eyes widened in recognition when he spotted the blonde girl, the one always hanging around Courtney, as she walked by, chatting on her phone.

Slightly intrigued, Duncan stepped forward until he was out of the shop, growling as the sharp jangle of the bell sounded off again when the door opened. The girl—her name escaped him… Amy?—had stopped walking and was now leaning up against the wall. She was close enough for him to hear what she was, well, exclaiming:

"…I swear Court, if he flirts with that girl one more time, I'm gonna—"

She broke off with a gasp, pausing as the other speaking said something. "He isn't doing it to make me jealous! He's doing it because he has no respect for me as his girlfriend!"

Duncan snorted, head quickly forming a plan. He could be wrong in assuming "Court" was Courtney, but he was normally right in anything concerning her. He briskly walked up to the girl, Alex, or whatever, and grabbed her phone.

"Mind if I borrow this for just a sec? Thanks." He chuckled at her expression—which most closely resembled someone who's puppy had died—before smirking as Courtney, who was the other speaker, rattled off some more 'girl advice'.

"Sorry to break off your words of wisdom, princess, but I have my own counsel for you."

He shot the blonde girl a lazy grin when Courtney cut off abruptly, taking a deep breath that was quite audible from his side of the phone. "Duncan? What have you done with Ali?!"

So that was her name. He made a mental check. "I haven't done anything to her," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, what do you want? Why do you even need to talk to me?"

It was obvious she wasn't very happy; Ali could seemingly hear it too as she covered her mouth to stop a smile. "In case you didn't notice, darling, I don't have your number—it was just a coincidence that your friend happened to be walking by, talking to you, too."

"Let me guess… fate?" Her voice held such heavy sarcasm Duncan couldn't help but grin.

"You're catching on!" he said happily, making his voice smug. "But anyway," he started quickly, before she could yell at him, "I forgot to tell you that it might be best to wear black tonight." He paused, grinning as he added, "And when I say black… I mean those little spandex shorts you wore in P.E. the other day." He winked as Ali gave a humored smile, tapping her foot impatiently. She must have been one of those fanatic-phone-OCD girls.

He waited for Courtney's response, only to be rewarded with the other line going flat.

"…She hung up on me."

Ali snorted, grabbing her phone back. "Tough luck. And next time you need to 'borrow' someone's phone, I suggest you wait until they're done with their conversation."

Duncan crossed his arms. "I'll keep that in mind. But… if you see Courtney before tonight, tell her that it probably is a good idea to wear black and to not be late." She gave him a look.

"Because you asked so nicely and all."

He gave her a challenging smile. "What? Courtney hasn't mentioned I'm not nice? I don't know if I should be flattered or not."

Ali raised an eyebrow, unbuttoning the top of her purse to daintily drop her phone in. "I dunno—Courtney wasn't the only one who saw your unusual aptitude for animals." Flashing him her own smile, she turned and walked away, leaving Duncan feeling rather… undermined.

But then, what else could he expect from somebody who spent their time under Courtney's influence?

Courtney blew a strand of hair from her face as she sat on the bench. She sighed when the bus that had been rumbling in front of the stop she was sitting at started to move, the driver shooting one last confused look towards her. She pursed her lips.

It wasn't unusual for somebody to sit at a bus stop, but it was a little odd that that person would continue to sit at a bus stop when the bus left.

Of course, she wouldn't have even needed to experience the bus coming and going if she hadn't been waiting at the stop for, oh, an hour. But she wasn't mad. She had only been sitting on the same bench, in the same spot, for sixty minutes and forty-three seconds, but who was counting?

Her nose cringing in contempt, Courtney urged her legs to stand up. She brushed off her pants—black pants—and forced herself to take a deep breath. It wasn't like she was eager to live up to actually losing the bet she had made, but at least she had the decency to do what she (kind of) agreed to!

She would have to walk home now, too. Collette had gone to the hospital for an overnight stay—she had been having supposed stomach problems, and while she was sure it was fine, Courtney had been the one to urge her to stay the night, just in case. And she had left her phone in the car.

Wonderful.

Courtney sighed. She couldn't say that she wasn't relieved—perhaps Duncan had just forgotten, though, that was unlikely. So, either he had done whatever he was going to make her do on his own, or something happened to delay him…

You're worried, snickered The Voice tauntingly. Courtney stiffened.

As if. She wasn't worried. Not at all.

So caught up in denying whether or not she was worried, because she totally wasn't, Courtney nearly had an aneurysm when a hand latched onto her arm. Her own hand when up to slap the defender in hopes that she could run away; unfortunately, it was caught before any damage could be done.

"Damn, princess! Jumpy much?"

Courtney's eyes narrowed after she had gotten over the initial shock and discontent of seeing him. "You! I can't believe you!"

Duncan narrowed his own eyes, quirking an eyebrow. "Can't believe me what?"

"I've been waiting here for an hour. An hour! Do you know all of the other things I could have done in an hour? This is a complete waste of time—I don't even know why I bothered to come. Only you would make someone wait before making them do something else. I still don't even know what I have to do, and you made me wait! I should—"

Her fury increased when Duncan placed his hand over her mouth, looking up to the sky and muttering something incoherent. He removed his appendage when she fumed in silence, grabbing her wrist and pulling her over to a car parked alongside the sidewalk. "Come on, sweetheart. We're late."

Courtney gaped.

"Then why didn't you show up an hour ago?!"

Duncan clenched his jaw and sighed, opening the door up and practically shoving her in. "I had to convince my brother to let me use his car—it was more difficult than I originally planned."

Courtney let out a little huff when he closed her door and walked over to his own, climbing in and suddenly turning his slight irritation into his normal cockiness. "Aw, no spandex? I got all excited for nothing."

Shaking her head at the quick topic change, Courtney increased her glower when he smirked and turned his attention to the road, drifting into the early-evening traffic. "Don't I at least get to know where we're going? And why we have to wear black? And—"

"Calm down," Duncan cut in, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, amused. "I'll explain things to you when we get there."

Courtney bit on her tongue, leaning back into the seat. She allowed herself to relax somewhat as he drove on, moving between cars and speeding up as they entered a main road. Unfortunately, it was a little hard to relax. She had never exactly pictured herself driving in a car with Duncan.

And for whatever reason, that particular picture was weird. Her stomach gave a little tingle when she registered the enclosed space, and decided that she had been in far too close proximity with him for much more of the weekend than she ever would have wanted. She had to stop herself from sighing in frustration at the thought.

She still failed to figure out what it was about him that got to her. Yes, okay, she had been attracted to the exhilaration he offered on the island, but she had been a little desperate then—the mention of food had put her brain into a rolling state that she hadn't come out of until after she had gone to the Playa del Losers.

Courtney folded her arms, tapping her fingers against her skin gently. Even in the resort, she had continued to dwell in whatever allurement had contained her. She would be lying if she said she hadn't gotten all giddy when he made all his shout-outs to her from the confession-cam, and she wouldn't really be telling the truth if she said she didn't constantly wish he was voted off for the mere reason that she would have seen him again.

But then… they had parted, just like everyone else. And while people like Bridgette and D.J. and others had emailed her and kept her updated on their daily lives, Duncan had seemed to fade out of existence. He hadn't given out his number either, so what was she supposed to do?

And now that he was back in her life, he just expected her to fall into his arms again? The mere implication of that was insulting! It only proved her theory that he wanted whatever he couldn't have—that or he was bored.

Personally, Courtney couldn't see why he was still chasing her. She wasn't a very interesting person to people like him, and while she considered herself relatively good-looking, there wasn't even a chance she was on the same scale that someone like Lindsey or even Heather was. That was what had confused her so much on the island… and what maybe propelled her to liking him in the first place.

She supposed it made her feel wanted, and although she had had boyfriends before, none of them had really been flings. The prospect had been exciting.

Courtney slid down further in her seat. But that was just it—during the end of the show, she had hoped it wouldn't be only a fling. How pathetic…she thought, frowning. Especially now that she was, once again, struggling with the difficulties he presented in her life. She had gotten over him, and he had to show up.

You do realize that you're going in circles here, right? The Voice questioned apathetically. Even if you don't believe in fate, why not take the opportunity it's given you?

What opportunity? The question she asked herself rolled around in her mind. She didn't know how to answer it. After what had happened to her sister, she didn't really want to answer it, either.

Scratching the back of her head, Courtney leaned forward, sighing. Her eyes snapped to Duncan when he laughed.

"What's wrong, princess? Bored already?"

"I'm more annoyed if anything."

Duncan raised his eyebrows, giving her one of his aggravating grins. "What's to be annoyed about? You're spending the evening with yours truly." Courtney rolled her eyes, shifting her body away from his gaze when it landed on her black tank-top. It was the only black clothing item she had! It wasn't like she wanted to expose herself.

Are you sure about that…? chanted her evil voice smugly.

Courtney felt a growl build in her throat.

Before she could prepare a witty response, Courtney was forced to tightly clench onto anything her hands could reach as Duncan sharply swerved into a small alleyway, narrowly avoiding crashing into another car. Actually, she was very proud she didn't scream… but maybe that was because she had been too frightened to make any kind of sound.

Her heart beating wildly, she turned and gave Duncan an incredulous look. "What?" he asked, shrugging. "We made it, didn't we? Now get out—we've got to walk from here."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

Courtney was sure she felt the beginnings of a headache forming, but she consented and clambered out of the vehicle, straightening her shirt as she stood up and glanced around. She eyed the graffiti and the broken beer bottles warily. "Is this place safe?" she asked uncertainly, stepping over a pile of shattered glass.

She looked up just as Duncan wrapped an arm around her waist and began pulling her along. "You'll be fine if you stick with me."

About to protest, Courtney was stopped mid-breath when she saw a man at the edge of one of the pathways that canalled out of the large alleyway. He was looking at them uninterestedly, but he was twirling a knife around his fingers. Courtney's words were swallowed in a small squeaking sound and her hand latched onto Duncan's shirt instinctively.

She could practically feel her pride nagging at her when he stared down at her and smirked after he'd blinked in surprise.

And, of course, he had no difficulty in hooking his thumb into the brim of her pants, making their walk much more intimate than Courtney was sure he even intended. But then, one never knew when it came to Duncan. Pig.

However, she was probably more disturbed by how much comfort she took in this position.

It didn't take much longer before they had silently made their way to a sidewalk and an actual road. Courtney's inner-clock was hinting that it was probably around seven-thirty now; it had, as of late, been getting darker much earlier in the day, which was most likely what made those flickering lamp posts much more intimidating than they should have been.

Duncan loosened his hold on her and stopped walking, turning her body so that she was facing him. Courtney raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me what I have to do now? Because seriously, I'm getting kind of creeped out."

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I couldn't really tell you before because I knew you would probably refuse to come."

"Oh come on, as long as it's nothing perverted or illegal, I'll be fine." It was then that Courtney noticed how Duncan cringed at her words before giving her a sheepish smile. "…no way."

"You already gave your word," argued Duncan quickly. "And besides, this isn't even that illegal—"

"It's still illegal!" she hissed, beyond infuriated. She felt nervous shivers make their way down her spine when she looked around the area they were in. "This is not acceptable—I can't do something that could put me in jail!"

"Please; like I'm gonna let us get caught." He held up a hand when Courtney furiously opened her mouth. "Listen. All you have to do is help me purchase some bike parts imported in—the chick running this place is on some guy-hiatus and refuses to sell to me. I made her a deal, and you're part of the bargaining chip. Just go through some paperwork, give her the check, and we're outta here."

Courtney had grown more panicked with each word that came out of his mouth. She could practically feel the blood drain from her face. "Duncan," she breathed, trying to control her temper from exploding, "I can't do this—can't you get another girl to help? And what kind of bet makes this the leveling ground? I'll do something else, anything!"

Duncan ran a hand over the top of his mohawk, letting out a sigh before pushing Courtney against a wall and leaning over her. She blinked at how close he was to her, momentarily forgetting the 'doing something illegal' factor.

"Alright, I knew you wouldn't be happy about this," he started, putting his hand against the back of her head and pushing her closer still; Courtney's eyes widened at the motion. "And if I wasn't focused on getting these parts for my bike, trust me, you would be doing something completely different right now for losing that bet."

Duncan put a hand under Courtney's chin to hold her gaze when she tried to pull away from him. His lips quirked. "This is what I meant by appreciating my self-control, princess. I don't think you realize how hard it is for me not to kiss the hell out of you."

Courtney felt her throat go dry when he tilted her face to the side and pressed his lips against the edge of her jaw line. She could barely register what was going on—it was like her arms had been paralyzed, and she could hear The Voice whispering the descriptions of certain moments of her dream in her head.

"Here's my proposition," whispered Duncan, his breath hitting her ear from mere centimeters away and sending goosebumps all over her skin, "you can fulfill your part of the bet and help me with this, or you can let me kiss you."

What?! That was cheating! Courtney twisted her head violently, an insult on the tip of her tongue—

His lips were now poised at the very corner of her own; tantalizing and enticing as her darker voice pushed at her more human desires. Duncan let out a light laugh, mouth barely brushing her skin. "What's it gonna be?"

He knew just where to hit her pride; Courtney couldn't help but think over that essential fact as she tried to focus hard enough to make a decision. She could let him kiss her, but then she would be caught in his triumph… and she didn't even know how she would react. On the other hand, doing something illegal scared the crap out of her; not to mention it went against everything she believed.

Clenching her eyes shut, Courtney made a move. Regaining the use of her frozen limbs, she shoved Duncan to the side, hearing his (almost) disappointed sigh, and feeling jitterier than the time she had to stand up in front of the whole high school and give a speech.

She couldn't even swallow, her throat was so dry. "Just… just tell me what to do," she rasped, feeling her cheeks fill with blood as she avoided his intense stare.

Duncan regarded her silently, almost like he was contemplating something. Then he made an incoherent, though annoyed, grumble and once more took hold of Courtney's arm to guide her in the right direction.

It wasn't another second before his knowing look was back in place. "You do realize that I'll get that kiss sooner or later, right?"

Courtney seethed at his confidence. "Keep telling yourself that, jerk."

The Voice laughed. Jerk? Still too shook up to tap into your normal creativity, eh? Courtney's seething faded into a prickled brooding, increasing when it became apparent that Duncan unknowingly agreed with her inner-voice, letting out a few low snickers.

It was then that the prospect of doing something that could endanger her entire future took to banging at her already indentured head again. Her breathing quickened as they neared a set of dark doors after walking by a few men smoking what looked like weed. The men's eyes followed them in suspicion, but Duncan seemed to know what he was doing…

At least, she hoped so.

"If I don't get into college because of this, I'll never speak to you again," whispered Courtney offhandedly when they entered a noxiously-lit hallway, drunken or wasted bodies lining the walls. She had to stop her teeth from grinding against each other.

"Tch. Like I'd risk that," snorted Duncan, blearily reaching through the smoke-filled hallway. Courtney twitched when she realized she had flushed, and that he had noticed. He grinned at her. "Told you I'm charming."

She sucked in air to growl at him, but only succeeded in inhaling a great deal of the smoke drifting around her. She immediately began coughing, trying to glare when Duncan laughed.

"Man, princess, you are way too sheltered."

"Shuttup," she hacked, pinching the end of her nose to block out any more of the toxic substance. "At least I'm not so accustomed to cigarette smoke that I'm not bothered in the least. You seriously disgust me."

She clicked her tongue when he took a deep breath of the smoke unharmed, eyes narrowing when he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when you get lung cancer. Actually, I hope you do!"

"Come crying to you?" Duncan teased.

Courtney stomped her foot, fury heightening when his amusement seemed to grow. "No! Get lung—" She broke off with a yelp when Duncan pulled her out of the main hallway and into a room that distinctly resembled a warehouse. She gave another shout when a man, who was holding an empty beer bottle, clawed at her foot, and nearly jumped behind Duncan.

"Don't worry," Duncan said, in an almost entertained-exasperation. "He's harmless. Completely plastered, but harmless."

"I hate this," Courtney complained, not caring that it had come out as a whine. It felt like she was in some assortment of a horror movie. The entire ambience of the setting was enough to give her a permanent case of the chills, but when you added people who looked like they wouldn't hesitate in cutting out your spleen and selling it on the black market, well, she could hardly breathe as a result of the sporadic sputtering of her heart.

She continued as Duncan urged her forward once more. "I really can't believe you're making me do this—I think I'm in shock."

"Well, if shock is what's keeping you from completely going into your CIT-freak-out-mode, then keep it up."

While she mustered up as affronted a glare as she could, Courtney didn't really know how to respond. He did kind of have a point. It didn't matter, however, if she was going to say anything at all—they appeared to be in the 'main' room of the entire place. It was as dark and dreary as the rest, but this one held a much more prominent foreboding of the ominous sort.

And it wasn't like she could run away and escape. She could be murdered by one of those pitiful waste-sacks that called themselves humans. Also, Duncan was her ride, which was unfortunate in itself.

Her ears were attracted to the sudden sound of yelling as a large gateway opposite them opened and presented the scene of a rather frightening woman urging a plethora of workers onward. She then heard Duncan let out a snort and looked up in question at him.

"Doesn't she remind you of that one Eva-chick?" he asked, upon seeing her stare. Courtney's mouth opened in surprise. The woman began to scream furiously in French when one of the crates a worker was holding fell to the ground.

"…Yep."

The woman chose that moment to look up, and Courtney flinched at the look she aimed at them. It wasn't unlike that of a rabies-strung dog eyeing its next victim.

That's a pretty thought, she inwardly mentioned to herself, sarcastic. It was true, though. The woman held up a muscle-laced arm to halt any more of the employees from coming in, narrowing her eyes. Courtney squirmed when the female-wrestler-lookalike scrutinized her, as if piecing her apart layer by layer.

"So," the woman growled gruffly, turning her head to look at Duncan as she walked forward, "is this the girl?"

Duncan folded his arms casually, which boggled Courtney—even if he was a hardened criminal, how did this woman not frighten him? Her eyebrows heightened when he merely shrugged, inclining his head towards the boxes that were carried in. "Are those my parts?"

Lip curling, the woman stomped over to a small desk and practically ripped out the drawer, causing Courtney to jump at the loud sound it made. The woman grabbed a file and held it in her hand, the folder crumpling slightly in small creases from where her fingers were gripping it so hard. "She just needs to fill these out for me. Your stuff is in the back." She sniffed, probably to cover up some sort of insult.

Duncan grinned his most conceited grin. "You're a doll." Courtney nearly blanched when he started to walk away. She rapidly clutched at his sleeve again, halting his step. He merely raised an eyebrow at her, making her insides boil.

"What the heck do I do now?" she hissed, severely discontented with the situation.

"You heard her—just fill out those papers." He made it sound like he was talking to a three-year-old. Imbecile…

Courtney placed her hands on her hips. "I don't know how this process works! And I'm not signing my name on anything." She added the last part with a dark warning.

"Oh, right. Sign with the name 'Loonel'; two o's."

"Duncan, the least you could do is—"

She was abruptly cut off when the woman snapped at her. "I haven't got all day, girl. Come on!"

Effectively quieted, Courtney tentatively approached the desk, trying her hardest to ignore Duncan's chuckling. Oh dear. Here came that nauseous feeling again. Something bad was definitely going to happen… there really wasn't any other choice.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, ducking down under the harsher woman's gaze. "So, uh, what do I do?"

The woman raised a thick brow line, snorting. "Did your goon of a boyfriend not fill you in?"

Courtney's face went from a dead pallor to a rich maroon color. "He's not my boyfriend!" she protested venomously. "I hate him."

"Then why are you helping him, hmm?"

"Because I lost a bet!"

For a moment, it looked as though the woman was about to laugh, the corners of her lips twitching up. But at the last minute she let out a heavy sigh and pulled a pen out of her pocket, handing it to Courtney and gesturing for her to sit down in a chair on the other side of the desk. "You got the short end of the stick, eh? Me too. Name's Marie." She held out her hand.

Courtney stared at the appendage, ogling at its largeness—it reminded her acutely of a bear paw. She shook her head, quickly shaking Marie's hand. "Courtney," she said stiffly, sitting down. She looked down at the papers with a foul look on her face. She clicked the pen a few times, deep in debate on how to start.

About to ask a series of what she was sure would be obnoxious questions, Courtney started again when one of the fiendish looking men placed a jug of water on the desk with two cups. He seemed quite upset that he was the one to have to be the deliverer, and walked away with a disgruntled sway in his step.

"Want a glass?" asked Marie tiredly. Courtney nodded meekly, beginning to fill out the ownership portion of the forms. It felt like her mind was steadily moving into a blank state, and that her body was being powered by a set of batteries. It was probably best that she didn't think about what she was doing, anyway.

"Thank you," Courtney said politely, frowning when Marie gave her a peculiar look after setting the glass down and pouring one for herself.

She frowned more when the pen suddenly leaked out onto the corner of the paper. Sighing, she took a sip of the water placed in front of her, tongue curling at the rusty taste.

"If you hate him," began Marie, seemingly curious, "why did you make a bet with him? Didn't you think it would end badly?"

Irritated that this woman was prying, Courtney had to mind her manners before answering. "Well, it's not like I expected him to win." She clenched the pen between her fingers, taking another sip of her water, attempting to quench her parched throat. "And it's not like I expected him to make me do this, either."

The older woman nodded in agreement, chugging her glass in one go. "Men are mindless bags of flesh that ought to be greased and thrown into a furnace."

Courtney twitched at the mental image. "Uh… yeah." She tried to sound convincing—it didn't seem to work. Actually, she was a bit nervous at what might happen if she disagreed with Marie. Vaguely, her mind drifted to a scene where Eva and Marie began to box…

She nearly jumped out of her seat, again, when another man came running up to the desk panting. Courtney took note of the suddenly frantic hum of voices that was drifting around the room. He began to speak in French to Marie, and Courtney was struggling to understand. Two years of French class really didn't help much.

A hand gripped her shoulder when a series of gunshots rang around the outside of the warehouse. Courtney's heart immediately launched into its hyperventilation-mode at the ear-shattering noises. She was pulled out of her seat roughly, by who she guessed was Duncan because of way she was suddenly pressed against his chest—even if it was to avoid the lamp sitting atop the desk from falling on her as more shots went off.

"Time to go, princess."

Courtney, eyes wide, could barely get her mouth to move enough to form words. "Duncan? What's going on?"

He rubbed the back of his neck before yanking on her arm to pull her forward into a brisk walk. "Oh, nothing really. The cops kinda figured out what was going on, and now they're raiding the place."

"What?!"

Courtney felt her throat crack as she shrieked her question, legs suddenly feeling an extra burst of endorphins as fear clawed at her chest. Duncan winced at the sound, picking up the pace when the shouting in the building escalated to new levels.

"Calm down!" He rammed his shoulder into a door, pushing it open. Courtney couldn't help but enter another coughing fit when the remnants of cigarette smoke drifting in the air passed through her nose and mouth. "I have an idea," he muttered, once she had settled.

Courtney was so officially freaked out that she could feel her body stiffening. What if she got caught? In an illegal operative's warehouse, no less. It would ruin her!

"We're beyond screwed! And it's your fault!" She could barely keep her voice under control. Black and white spots danced in front of her vision and she coughed again, attempting to get the smoke out of her lungs.

"No, no we're not. I've got this." There was that arrogance again. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that they were dead and be done with it? It almost bothered her more than the idea of getting put in juvie. Almost.

Well, at least you'll have good company, reasoned The Voice with a cackle. Courtney felt the anger engulf her stomach at the implication as anxious tears prickled behind her eyes. This wasn't happening to her. It couldn't be happening. "Fine! Then get it, already! Because I haven't got any ideas!"

Duncan finally seemed to notice her distress and slowed his run, allowing her to catch her breath and try to keep her eyes dry. She couldn't help it—she was so angry! And scared.

"Whoa—hold up. It's gonna be fine!" He looked semi-uncomfortable at her reddening eyes and she didn't bother to stifle a glare.

"Really? Because the prospect of it being fine looks a little bleak to me!"

He sighed, frowning, and quickly maneuvered himself and her over to another door. He swore when the voices behind them got even louder. Courtney could feel herself shaking now. He managed to open the door and pulled her through; her eyes were drawn right away to an array of sleek, shiny motorcycles lined up throughout the room. She gave him a confused look.

"We can't exactly sneak out the front door without being caught," he explained at her questioning expression. "This is our ticket out."

Courtney's knees buckled when she realized what he was saying. "You want to steal one of these things?!" He opened his mouth to say something, however, she wasn't quite ready to let him talk. "Are you completely out of your mind? This is insane! These aren't just illegal parts—this is freaking quadruple that illegality!"

"But… it's European." There was a pleading whine to his voice.

She shook her head furiously, nearly lurching when the same dots blinked before her sight.

Duncan muttered something under his breath, rubbing his forehead. "Listen, babe, we don't really have a choice. We've got to get outta here fast." Courtney rubbed her arms, biting her lip when another gun shot went off behind them.

"Shit!" cursed Duncan, forcing Courtney to bend over. Oh yeah, she was past the point of freaking out now. She felt her head forcefully turned up to link with his gaze. "Courtney, you've got to trust me."

She felt a sense of wonderment when she heard her name come out of his mouth, and was so shocked by that sheer utterance that she didn't quite hear what he said next. All she could really do was follow him when he told her to "get on the bike" and latch her arms around his waist as he turned the key in the ignition.

She let out a nervous groan when the machine roared to life underneath her and tightened her hold when the bike spurred forward, whimpering when they made a sharp turn to enter a small tunnel that looked like it would lead them out of the warehouse.

It was only when the motorcycle increased in speed exponentially that she felt her stomach completely drop to her toes.

Hair whipping around her face as though she were in a tornado, Courtney could only clench her eyes shut as they raced on. Oh crap. She could feel the motion sickness building in her intestines. This was not okay.

She heard Duncan let out a whoop of some sort when they cleared to the street, somehow making the bike go faster. A squeal left her throat when he made another sharp turn; she was sure she'd have nail marks on her wrists when this was over.

And there was still that part of her that couldn't really accept what was occurring. She felt like she was in some dream-like sequence of events that seemed so unrealistic that they could only ever happen in your sleep. Or in the movies. She didn't really know how to handle it.

But then, as quickly as it started, it was over. After some meandering through the city, Courtney had begun to loosen up, allotting for her lungs to actually expand and take in the precious oxygen that they had been lacking. It didn't take much longer until they were in front of the same place that they had left from earlier in the evening. She glared banefully at the bench she had previously sat at for no other reason than to help release her pent-up anger; especially because Duncan was immune to her looks.

"Not like this isn't comfortable, darling, but you can let go." Courtney scowled at Duncan's smirk, practically prying her stiff arms from around him and stepping awkwardly off the bike… only to feel her legs go limp.

Duncan barely caught her under her arm, somehow balancing the oversized transportation device and holding her up simultaneously.

"You don't have the best sea legs, do you?"

"Shuttup," moaned Courtney, confused at how hard it was to form the words and pressing a hand to her stomach. "I feel sick, and it's all beca—"

She cut herself off when her vision went completely black, only giving her brief flashes of her surroundings. She could hear Duncan asking her something, but his question wasn't really on her priority list at the moment. It was rather disconcerting that she couldn't see, after all.

It was only when Duncan released her and she failed to stand up that Courtney realized something was wrong. But even when her head smashed against the ground and sent a splitting pain up and down her body, the only thing she could think of was how Duncan was shouting her name again.

Well, that and how the sound of silence could be so loud.

Muahahahaha. Cliff hangers. Gotta love 'em.

Okay. Well, I know a lot of you probably want responses to your reviews and I would LOOOVE to give them to you.... unfortunately, I cannot. I think my brain is dead and I have to go to this song practice thing and learn how to sing in several different languages. It'll be great! *coughcoughNOTcoughcough*

Anyway, once more I thank you all, and especially the few who leave me reviews that I don't even deserve. You know who you are! And if I had cookies, I would give them to you.

And *GASP* what has happened to Courtney???

I don't know. I'm only the author. Peace.