boscogirl: Whoo, thanks for the review. :D

Mr. Panama Red: Wait, hold on; you'll find out at the end of the chapter. :)

Kick Me Awake: Thank you. By the way, I love your username.

bella-sk8er: Haha; me, too. I love his acting—especially when they showed his talent in acting during Total Drama Action.

Ray-Ray: Thank you for that. I really appreciate it. (:

Snowiyflake: That happens to me sometimes. I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter; I enjoyed writing it quite a bit, so yeah. Don't worry—it won't take me nine months anymore. I'll try to be more responsible. :P

Rubberduck2: "Mini spazz attack"—that's funny. xDD

beautifulxlife: Oh yeah—speak the truth! And that's okay about you not reviewing much. As long as you read it and enjoy it, I'm happy. Thanks for the compliment about my writing, as well. =)

CarmillaD: O-M-G, you reviewed! Eek, I'm glad you're still reading my stories. You're an amazing person for always reviewing and giving me constructive criticism, which I greatly appreciate. Thanks for the "Spanish Guidance" you have given me. LOL. x)

Huh. Nine reviewers, nine months of hiatus. Does that mean something? Of course it reminds me of Trent going all idiotically nuts over that number.

But really, thanks for the reviews, guys.

Now—on with the story!

"I'm bored, babe."

"Me too."

"Wanna go on a date?"

"Sure."

Although the date might have been out of sheer boredom, it was also to make up for their last not-so-happy date. Duncan certainly didn't want to have memories about that event, so he thought bringing up the idea, in a nonchalant, cool way, of having another date with her might sort of erase that dreadful memory. The event had ended in a pretty all right way, but still—it was embarrassing to him. He wanted his Princess to have a good first date with him.

As he gathered his clothing on the bed, he wondered where he would take her. He was taking all the shots for the upcoming date tonight. He knew that Courtney was going to expect some luxurious, "Would you like some Hors d'Oeuvres with that?" kind of restaurant. But she should know him better than that. He wasn't the romantic type, nor would he ever be the romantic type. He could make an exception for her. Maybe. He didn't know.

He placed his head through the hole, pulling down the T-shirt over his chest, still contemplative. He was usually a spontaneous person—in his own way, of course. He didn't like planning things, because he believed that brought a downer to what was being planned. He liked being unexpected. Some might think he was a predictable person, but he really wasn't.

Just gonna wing it, I guess, he thought.

He was about to leave his room when he passed by a mirror hanging on the wall, just above the black nightstand. He never looked in the mirror before a date back then; it didn't occur to him or he was just confident enough to know that he looked good—which was most of the time for the latter. But just to be sure…he did.

His famous green Mohawk was placed boldly on his head. The piercings on his face shone from the reflection and from the ceiling light. His black The Punisher T-shirt was tight, pronouncing his fit body, and snug on him. He wore dark blue pants which were slightly ripped on the knees and around the groin area. Two chains were secured in the belt hook, dangling freely. His dog collar was around his neck. Last but not least, his used-up red Chucks were being worn—not surprising at all.

A smirk made its way on his lips.

Oh yeah, I look good.

. . .

Courtney smiled. Okay. Now I'm ready, she thought.

She grabbed a brush from the vanity mirror and started brushing her hair, staring at her reflection. She wore a loose, striped gray and white long-sleeve T-shirt that fell off her right shoulder in a stylish manner, showing her smooth tanned skin, with a black undershirt beneath; tight, dark denim Capris; and some comfy wedges. She placed the brush down and grabbed two hair ties, putting them around her right wrist. She smoothed out her shirt, a smile still on her face.

She knew Duncan wouldn't take her anywhere fancy, so she decided to wear casual attire. She was about to wear her usual attire, but she wanted to make this date special even if it was at McDonalds, for example.

A grimace was painted on her face. Hell no. Hell no.

She hoped he wouldn't take her to that ghastly fast food restaurant. She hoped that there would be at least a tiny romantic bug planted somewhere in his brain. She hoped. She hoped.

The last date they had was a catastrophe, filled with broken hearts and words that just screamed dishonesty. Courtney wanted to make this date something special to throw away the memory of that dreadful occasion. She knew that Duncan thought the same.

She went out of her room, giddy with excitement. She headed out to her living room and saw—

"Damn, look at that hottie right there." Duncan whistled, smirking. He was leaning against her counter, elbows behind his back and on the counter.

To say Duncan was unattractive right now would make Abraham Lincoln look dishonest. She wasn't fond of his clothing, especially the creepy image of a smoky, menacing skull. But he fit it and looked so delicious. He was a bad boy, which could be considered as an understatement to most. He was someone girls would be afraid of yet dangerously attracted to. He was the embodiment of sexy.

"Someone's droolin'."

Courtney felt a bit of drool on her. She tried to wipe it inconspicuously, failing. "H-How'd you—?" she began.

"Sorry, Princess, but that's a stupid question. Remember—criminal?" He pointed to his chest with his thumb.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, forgive me for forgetting your dexterous skills, Duncan."

He grinned. He got off the counter and walked over to her, staring directly through her eyes. Love filled his orbs with a hint of lust. He wound his strong arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him in the process. She could feel his hot breath on her face. She looked up under her eyelashes.

Courtney now realized that she hadn't touched him so intimately in a while. This morning, all they did was cuddle, watching tedious reality shows. The lack of physical contact and the monotonous air created a fresh batch of extreme boredom, bringing them to this night. She put her arms around his middle, smiling at him.

"Hey, beautiful," Duncan whispered. He leaned down and captured her awaiting lips softly. The minute she kissed him, a powerful emotion spread throughout her being, suffocating her, embracing her. She liked it, and it motivated her to kiss him deeper. His arms brought her to his body even closer. One hand slid up to the back of her neck, fingers now tangled in her brown locks. Lips moved with lips. Emotion danced with emotion. Love circled the air, happiness intertwined with it.

They both pulled back. Courtney covered her smiling face in his hard chest, smelling his delicious scent. She wrapped her arms around him tighter. She felt him stroke her back softly, fingers dancing along her spine. His other hand was hazardously low on the small of her back, but she didn't mind.

After a wonderful moment of basking in each other's company, they tore the embrace and headed out. The night was quiet and quite soothing to their ears. Various noises were heard from other apartments, some louder than others. Courtney overlooked the noise and walked on, squashed against Duncan's side by his arm. They descended the steps and walked towards Duncan's car. Courtney had an idea and pulled away from Duncan's arm, running towards the driver's side, and got in. She heard the passenger's door being opened and saw a scowling criminal.

"I want to drive," Duncan complained.

She grabbed the keys from his hands quickly and started the car, hearing the engine purr. "Well, that's too bad," she replied, grinning. "I'm driving, because I want to. Just tell me where we're going, and I'll drive there."

"Not tellin' you 'til you make me drive."

"Duncan."

"No."

She glared. "You're being so immature. Tell me where we're going already!"

"Let me drive."

"You damn idiot, stop being so childish and tell me where we're going or so help me I will pummel you!"

"'Pummel'? Wow, babe, you sound like some thug. And you say I'm bad. What a role model you are."

"I'll make your face look like some old person if you don't tell me!" She gritted her teeth. What is with him? He's so persistent to drive it's aggravating, she thought. "Why do you want to drive, anyway?"

He shrugged. "Well…I don't know where we're going honestly."

She thought she was going to combust from the amount of scorching rage inside of her.

. . .

Duncan, with all his might, tried to fight the urge to have his way with his Princess. Through his hormonal perspective—this was usually his normal perspective especially towards Courtney—he was thinking about how hot she was. Lust was going around in continuous circles everywhere in his body. But, through his infrequently publicized romantic perspective, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he ever saw. He knew she was beautiful, but he still couldn't believe how much she could be. It was like her beauty was infinite, no maximum number.

He mentally punched himself in the face. Crap, I'm turning into some gooey sucker, he thought, disgusted with himself.

He took a quick glance at his fuming girlfriend from his peripheral vision and almost smiled hugely.

Worth it, I guess.

His fingers drummed on the seat lightly as he stared out the window. His bored eyes watched every building that passed by, hoping he could see one that would at least peak his interest. Every building that passed just wasn't enough. He wasn't looking for anything extravagant; he wasn't looking for anything cheap and shabby. He wanted something that would make him go, "Ooh, ooh—there!"

Which he wouldn't, of course.

He saw it.

"Turn left."

"Duncan, I'm in the right lane."

"Turn left, sweetheart, or else you'll pass it and then we'll have to wait for another U-turn."

"Ugh, turn where? What building specifically?" She carefully maneuvered through the lanes. She was in the center lane, about to make a quick, safe turn to the left when a pickup truck didn't stop and blocked the lane. "Inconsiderate jerk! Didn't you freaking see me going to that lane? You're so freaking blind! Ugh! Ass—"

"He can't hear you, babe," Duncan interjected, smirking. Her feistiness appeared yet again, making him turned on…yet again.

She whipped her head towards him, flashing an icy cold glare. "What building are you talking about, honey?" she questioned sweetly; her tone was plainly covered with fake sweetness and a large amount of acid.

He yawned. "Oh yeah, you missed it during your bitch fit."

Following Courtney's temper tantrum filled with sentences about how Duncan could be "such an unbearable jerk" and how he was "incredibly worse than the driver who cut her off completely," she parked the car where Duncan unexpectedly told her to. When she did realize where she was heading, she looked quite stunned to find that he picked a pancake house for their date.

Arm secured firmly around her waist, they walked to the pancake house. The minute they stepped over the threshold, they saw that there was a fair amount of customers. Most of them sat on the stools rather than the tables. A waiter greeted them with a friendly smile. He ushered them to a table, but Duncan wanted to sit at the stools area.

"Why do you want to sit here?" Courtney inquired after she sat down.

He shrugged. "Felt like it, wanted to, did it." He grinned at her. "So, how do you like the place?"

She took a look around her surroundings, grimacing. "It's…decent," she commented. "But really—a pancake house? Breakfast for dinner? This is your idea of a date?"

"Hey now, darling. Who the hell said this was our date? This is just the beginning, you know. And so what if we have pancakes for dinner? And so what if we're having a part of our date in a pancake house? I'm not the type of guy to take you out to some fancy restaurant, wowing you with my gentlemanly skills and crap. I'm also not the type of guy to have our first date at some greasy restaurant like McDonalds." He scanned his eyes through the menu, indifferent.

She sighed in relief, though he didn't know why. "This isn't our first date, though."

"I know that. But I just wanted to, you know…kinda erase that memory. It didn't go well."

"Yes, but it ended well."

"Still, Princess, I want to have a good date with you."

She smiled at him. "You're too sweet."

He snorted. "Yeah, whatever."

She leaned over to his side, looking at the menu in Duncan's hand. Her dark eyes skimmed through it, lips pursed. "Do you have any recommendations?"

He placed a hand on her back, stroking it with his fingers delicately. "Eh, I don't know; I never ate here. It's a pancake house, so that pretty much recommends the obvious."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why'd you pick this place if you never even ate here?" He had a feeling she was about to add "you idiot" at the end of her sentence.

"Impulse, sweetie, impulse."

She rolled her eyes at him.

A waitress came, hair in a messy chignon, holding out a small notepad and pen. She smiled warmly at the couple. She asked, "Are you ready to order?"

Courtney nodded, eyes transfixed on one particular spot. "I'll just have a fresh batch of pancakes, but please don't put butter or any dairy product of the sort on it," she told her.

The waitress jotted down the order quickly, nodding slightly. "…All right. And for you, sir?"

Duncan stared at the menu blankly; he didn't even know what to order. "I'll have what she's having 'cept with whatever butter and yeah."

"Beverages?"

"I'll have a clean glass cup with bottled water, please."

"Can of Pepsi, no cup."

"No entrees?"

"No, thank you."

"None for me."

The waitress thanked them, smiled, and walked away quickly. Duncan watched her press the bell, placing the order on the metallic counter. There was a small window, and if you took a better view, you would see people in their bustling about in the kitchen.

He laid his right cheek on the palm of his hand, zoning out. He remembered going to a pancake house back then with his grandma when he was fourteen years old. He had recently got out of the station where he was supposed to clean and help his grandma with the documents. Since she was elderly, she wasn't "on the scene," as the officers would call it, and she would help manage the documents or help out around the station. Duncan had been sent to the principal's office again, receiving a ten day suspension for vandalizing the girl's restroom. Because of that incident, his grandma had forced him to help out at the station. Then, after that, his grandma had treated him to the local pancake house back in his hometown. He remembered the times his grandma would admonish him for having poor table manners and making rude remarks about the food loudly. Most of all, he remembered how much fun it was hanging out with his grandma even if it was under circumstances he wasn't fond of. He had been glad that she spent time with him.

"Strange," Courtney suddenly said, breaking Duncan's reverie. "I thought you would go flirting with the waitress earlier."

Duncan chuckled. "I'm not a man-whore, Princess. And I'm not a total asshole," he answered. "We're dating, and I'm not going to be seducing other gals like that anymore. Well…only the ones that are willing, 'course."

She slapped his forearm. "You're making me rethink about you not being a total asshole."

He gasped playfully. "You said a bad word!"

"You—shut up."

He laughed and nestled his face in her warm neck.

When their orders came, they immediately devoured their food. Duncan smothered his pancakes with tons of maple syrup, shoving pieces of the pancake in his mouth eagerly. He moaned in delight. He saw Courtney eating properly like a little rich girl—she was, but he didn't like that. He nudged her with his elbow and demonstrated how she should eat. He stabbed the whole pancake with his fork and bit a huge piece of it. He gestured towards her plate, telling her to do the same. She rolled her eyes and started taking bigger bites.

That's my girl, he thought happily.

He let out a loud burp just after he swallowed the last remains of his food. He ignored Courtney's groan of disgust and stretched his arms out. He looked at her plate and saw that it was barely empty.

"I tell you to take bigger bites and you go all anorexic towards me." He shook his head. "Shame, shame."

Courtney wiped her mouth with a napkin, glowering at him. "Quiet!" she snapped. "I'm just not that hungry. And I'm not anorexic, you ogre! You don't know the symptoms of anorexia nervosa. At least I ate something."

"Sure."

"Ugh, shut up!"

He laughed and called over the waitress, telling her that they were finished. She nodded and gathered the two plates with ease. She said that she would come back with the receipt and to go to the cashier.

While they waited, Duncan watched some TV which was showing the news. The TV was on the left side of the restaurant on top of a shelf that was attached to the wall. He felt Courtney embrace his arm and relax against his side, head resting on his shoulder. He smiled a bit and continued watching.

The waitress came with the receipt. She smiled at them and left.

Duncan picked up the receipt and cursed mentally. He only had about five dollars in his pocket. He didn't know where they were going for their date beforehand. He also didn't know how much money he had in his wallet. He had spent his pay on unimportant objects—like food…which he had finished in about two days.

"Dang, Alicia!" a man sitting beside Duncan exclaimed, stuffing his mouth with pancakes. "I can never ever get tired of these pancakes! Freaking hell, what are in these things?"

Alicia, the waitress that had served Duncan and Courtney, giggled. "Secret, Hank," she replied. "Now, lower your voice; there are other customers here. Just enjoy your food—oh, you're done."

Hank patted his belly. "Wish I could savor it, but I'm in a hurry, darlin'."

She grabbed his plate and said that she would be right back.

"It's all right! I'll leave the money on the table!" He slammed a twenty dollar bill and left, yelling out, "With tip and love!"

Duncan quickly glanced at Courtney who was watching the news intently. He almost rolled his eyes on how boring she could be. He whispered in her ear that he was going to pay for their "dinner." She nodded absentmindedly. He slipped out of her embrace and whistled while walking. He pretended to observe the paintings and photographs around the place. He walked back, stretched out his right arm, forced a huge yawn, and swiped the twenty dollar bill off the table. He went over to the cashier, showed the receipt, and paid, telling the cashier to keep the change. He headed back to his girlfriend.

"Ready to go?" he inquired, taking her hand.

She gave him a disappointed look.

"What the—what?"

"You stole the money to pay for our so-called 'dinner,' didn't you?"

"Got no proof."

She scoffed. "Security cameras, Duncan—ever heard of that?"

He chuckled at her naivety. He bent down and placed his mouth near her ear. "Princess," he murmured, "those cameras don't do crap here. I would know. I've stolen many things in many other pancake houses and stuff. Nothing happened. I'm a criminal."

"I thought you were going to stop?"

"Well, I am. But I'm still bad."

"Uh-huh." She got off the stool, making him straighten himself up. She pried her hand out of his and crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

The ex-criminal rolled his eyes, groaning. "I'll leave a tip," he said. He took out a crumpled-up dollar from his pocket and slammed it on the counter. "There. Let's go."

She smiled and started to leave, him in tow.

Then he turned back and took back the dollar, smiling mischievously.

. . .

"See that guy? Aim at his head, babe. If you have a good aim and a keen eye, you could hit that sucker's eye, poppin' it out, too. Maybe."

"But this isn't right."

"Oh, please—none of that 'He could get hurt' junk. Just go and do it. It's for fun. You know—fun, something people do when they're bored."

"I'm not stupid."

"Then throw the damn thing."

"But—"

"Jeez, you're just throwing a rock, not a knife."

"Fine!" Courtney tried to get a good shot and quickly threw the rock. She ducked behind the air vent when he heard the guy yell out in pain. "Is he hurt?"

Duncan grinned and nudged her gently. "Hell yeah. Awesome aim there," he complimented. "Ha! Look at him, whining."

They lied down on top of the roof, gazing at the moonlight and the bright stars afterwards. Courtney thought they were all simply magnificent. The way they shone, the alignment, the beauty—they were all something that just astounded you every time.

Despite the fact that she was lying down on hard concrete with no soft material whatsoever except her clothing, she was pretty relaxed, comfortable. The atmosphere wasn't all that romantic or sweet. But what made this date memorable was the fact that it practically had "Duncan" written all over it. She liked the fact that this represented what he was. Spontaneous in his own way, rebellious, stupid yet smart-ish, discreetly sweet. It was him. All him.

"Duncan…what happened with you and my parents that day?" Courtney questioned quietly, biting her lip. "I—I need to know. Although you were actually joking about being all shocked with your acting skills"—she glared at him—"you may be quite truthful underneath. Tell me."

He blew out a huge breath. "They did some deep interrogation, like what I see in you, if I'm good for you, why I'm good for you, and how I'm good for you. I was pretty much straight up with them. I said that you were the most annoying yet sexiest person I ever met."

Jeez, Duncan, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"You're smart, and you're bent on what you believe in. Feisty and dangerous. Screams hot." He smirked at her way. "You're a good-natured person even though you're pretty harsh and violent. I just also said that I'll take care of you and keep you in shape. I'll try and grab that pole outta your ass, but it might be in too deep." He laughed. "I may be a bad person, but for you, I'll do what it takes. It's just that… Well, it's 'cause… I love you—don't you ever freakin' forget that fact, babe."

Courtney suppressed the urge to gush on and on about how charming he was being. She leaned over and kissed him, almost squealing when he wrapped his arms around her. He brought her on top of him and made out with her.

She loved him. She did.

He loved her. He did. She knew that. He told her that. She knew.

It was difficult to understand and difficult to believe. They both fell in love with each other despite everything. There were obstacles, but it seemed like fate wanted them to be together. They didn't have to try hard. The occurrences were implausible and phenomenal, them being two polar opposites. She didn't care, though. She didn't care what the others thought. Nope. She didn't.

She loved him. He loved her.

Simple as that.

"Say something romantic. Willingly," Courtney demanded, snuggled up against him.

"Ugh, do I have to?" Duncan whined. "Can't we just stargaze in peace? Or better yet, why don't we make out again?"

"Just go. Please?"

He clicked his tongue, thinking. "All right, wait…"

She waited, anticipating.

"You may be my Juliet, but I sure as hell ain't your Romeo. How's that? Romantic enough for you?" He grinned down at her.

"In a sense, it's sweet but totally you."

He pulled her beside him even though she was already squeezed against him enough. Her smile became bigger—she didn't even know that she was smiling—when she realized that he wanted her close to him as much as possible. He didn't need to say the words; she could understand him.

She was so happy right now.

"I love you, Duncan."

Duncan kissed her forehead. "Love you, too, Princess," he spoke softly.

He had jumped through her window, escaping from the officers. He had seen her half-naked. He had violated her privacy. He had flirted with her audaciously. He had touched her without consent and without shame. He had kissed her.

She could remember that day clearly as if it happened just yesterday, just last night.

Yes, that day…

When the criminal met the princess.

Fin.

Oh, lame. This ending has been immediately labeled as LAME.

Um, well, I hope it wasn't.

That was the ending, folks. (You got your answer, Mr. Panama Red.) I'm sorry to say that. I know it's extremely rude and "un-cool" of me to do that, but it just had to end. I was originally planning to add one more chapter before the ending—I even wrote a majority of it—but then it didn't work. The story had to end.

If the ending is somewhat cheesy ("Boo, Monica-san, you're such a lame-o! Using the title as your 'dramatic' ending! Suck! Suck!"), then that's your freakin' problem. But if you didn't think it was somewhat cheesy, I'll forever love you.

Kiddin'. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I'll still love you guys. :)

I realized that I write my stories differently now. I added more emotion to it, eh? I tried to add some humor—was it funny? If it wasn't funny in a way, then someone must've stolen my funny bone. Ugh. -.-

[Random Fact: During the time when Heather admitted that she was using Lindsay in Total Drama Island, Duncan was like, "Oh, that's cold, brah." And then Heather shot back saying that all he does was scare the crap out of everyone. Duncan's like, "At least I'm straight with people" or something. And I thought, "If TDWT Duncan saw that episode, he would probably feel like a huge hypocrite. Just something I could share with you guys.]

So yeah, I had fun! And I hope you enjoyed the ending! Thanks to everyone that supported me and was actually quite patient with me! I'll see you in my next story!

Happy Halloween,

Monica-san