AN: It's because Total Drama was on Netflix, okay?

Chapter 1

Thank You

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

What she couldn't stand the most, was that her body hadn't known how to respond. It had taken a whole two minutes for her brain to even think that thought, and still her face had yet to do anything. There was just no reaction to be done. Her perfect world, the one that she spent eleven fucking years working into her whole life's purpose, could not, ever, possibly do this to her.

Oh but it could. Perhaps this was karma. It was finally catching up to her.

Her mind was still misfiring, unable to give her any signals on what to do next. With each passing second, she was coming closer and closer to very well losing her mind.

She pulled her eyes away, allowing them to drop down to the schedule that her secretary had so thoughtfully printed out for her. Printed only so she didn't have to check her own phone or computer for the potential client's name. She had so many today, she couldn't possibly remember them all. They were all printed so that she could be prepared. Oh, she was not prepared.

As she read the name, her eyes again quickly pulled up to look at the face. Sure, she had glanced at the name previously before this moment, but it wasn't a too uncommon name to make her stop and think. Perhaps it was just someone with the same-NOPE, her brain corrected, as her eyes again recognized the face right in front of her.

It couldn't be. But it was. It was him.

He had no problem what's so ever. In fact, he had a very easy grin snaked around his evil face, his cold blue eyes knowing exactly what he was doing to her. She had to stop him. She had to put her hands around his neck and squeeze, until those eyes popped out of his obnoxious head.

He hadn't changed all that much. He still had the same stupid tuft of hair growing out of his chin. He still had his annoying green fohawk and stupid piercings. You would think even he would grow out of it, with all the time that had gone by, but-wait, there were changes. He simply just had more piercings! And more tattoos.

She made a small scoffing noise, an excuse to have her roll her eyes away. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to remember what was there before, or notice what was new. She was wasting time!

She had to keep moving forward. She had to remember her therapy. Don't get caught up in the small details. In the long story of her own life, he was an insignificant chapter that ended long ago. Knowing him, this was probably some sort of joke. He somehow managed to wiggle himself into her schedule. How?! She was firing her secretary.

Finally getting down to business she was able to use her voice. "What do you want?" It came out harsh, but that was no problem. It was Duncan after all.

"I need a lawyer," he said simply, but it was his voice that almost made her fall apart. A sudden wave of memories and nostalgia tore through her, and it took a lot more from her to hold down her bile as it threatened to escape the internal attack.

She did a decent job. She somehow transferred the energy into a bitter laugh, keeping her face collected and cool. "You can't afford me," she said, sitting back down at her desk. She didn't even remember standing. Oh, that's right, she was going to shake her client's hand before she knew who he was. She started reorganizing the already organized desk to look busy.

"So quick to judge, Princess," he clicked his tongue. She refrained from flinching at the old pet name. "I got the cash."

"And I don't accept illegal money either."

She heard him shift his weight on her leather chair. How dare he? How dare he come into her office, the one with the window, and contaminate the atmosphere?! She could even smell his cigarette smoke all the way from where she sat.

"Should have I brought my T4s? I do have a job. I even pay taxes and everything."

She made a face of disgust at him, finding that hard to believe. "Doing what?"

"Mechanic."

She gave a haughty laugh, noticing his ripped jeans and dirty T-shirt. Really, how did he get in here? "And you think you can afford-"

"Before you get all high and mighty on me, based on your LinkedIn profile here," Duncan cut off, scrolling through his phone, "you've only been graduated for... two months now."

"Do you know where you are?!" She couldn't quite keep the hysteria out of her voice.

Duncan stared back at her, assuming that was a rhetorical question.

"Borden Ladner Gervais in Vancouver!" As far as she had known, Duncan had been living in Ontario on the other side of the country. Or at least, that was the last she had seen him. She should have been safe here. She came here to be safe. She grabbed her phone, signing into her LinkedIn profiled to see for herself, making some edits so the dates showing her experience weren't so obvious. "Do you know how hard it is to land a position right after law school?" she tapped angrily on her phone. "Especially in Borden Ladner Gervais after mentoring here? I was an exception. They usually force you to move elsewhere. I've won dozens of cases while I was still interning. I have a window!" she waved her arm frantically over to the window looking out into the water. Duncan didn't seem impressed at all. "I worked with Alan Dershowitz. I met Wichai Thongtang in Thailand."

"Who the fuck is that?" Duncan dug a finger into his ear.

"His net worth is 1.1 billion." Of course Duncan wouldn't know who Wichai Thongtang was. She needed to get him out of her office.

"And so... being in this dude's presence for like a second, is going to make your net worth... what?"

She let out a short cry in annoyance before sitting back down. Again, she must have gotten up during her rant. "That's not the point! The point is that I don't have time for you." One end of his mouth twitched upward. She wasn't sure if it was from him being nervous or just to annoy her. As much as she wanted to throw him out the window (she wasn't sure if she could even open it yet) her schooling wasn't allowing her. She had to do something for him, if for only because he was on her stupid schedule and she never liked to leave things unfinished.

The annoying thought that Duncan and her had always felt unfinished nagged at her. "But," she grabbed a pen and starting going through her business card display, now refocusing her thoughts. She wasn't going to let Duncan get the best of her. If this really was a chance meeting, then she couldn't let him win. "I can refer you to one of the 700 other lawyers in our establishment, who will be happy to work with you." She took a calming breath. This wasn't the end of the world. Just stay professional. Serve the people. That's your job, Courtney. Serve... "What service are you looking for?" she sighed.

"Service?" God, she hated the way that sounding out of his mouth. Dirty, and sensual at the same time.

"Let me guess, criminal law?"

"Well, uh."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course it is! I swear to God, Duncan, I really don't know how you're still alive. As if for one second, you could actually keep yourself from getting into trouble!"

"Hey! What does it matter? I'm innocent!"

"Ha!" she found the name she was looking for. Lou Pierce. He was actually a close professor of her's at one time. He was the best criminal defense attorney she knew. If anyone could keep Duncan out of jail or prison, it was him.

"Should be easy for ya, if I'm innocent."

"Duncan, I'm not even a criminal lawyer. If you actually read my LinkedIn account you would see that I am in medical."

"Huh," Duncan grunted, chin in hand and actually looking somewhat interested. "I never thought you'd go that route."

"Well, I would have preferred corporate, but if I wanted to stay local I had to take what I could get. Besides, there are tons of opportunities in that direction, and though it may be difficult, I am confident that I can switch professions if I think needed. I want to have a wide background on my resume for when I eventually run for Prime Minister."

Duncan looked bored again. He was still sitting in her chair.

"Here," she leaned forward to hand him over the card with the referral. "Call him. I'll put a word in for you so that he finds time to fit you in his schedule." She made sure, as Duncan reached over to take the card, not to let their fingers touch. She had to put some effort into it since Duncan had made for the reach somewhat clumsily, and the card made a loud noise as it bent and scraped from her fingernail in her haste to hand it over.

She sat back, watching Duncan stare at the card in his hand. "Well, our business is done now," she stated when he still made no move to get up. He gazed at her, making her uncomfortable as she couldn't think of a way to not look back. She was starting to notice other differences now. He was older. The skin on his face seemed tighter around his eyes. There was more hair on his chin then she remembered.

"Courtney." His voice had been low, but sounded unnecessary loud after the quiet that followed. The ticking of a nearby clock and her blood pounding in her ears were the only noise. She didn't like the way that he was staring at her, probably noticing all of her changes as well. She saw his gaze drop to her left hand, where she wore a rather expensive engagement ring. She quickly covered her hand, before letting both of them fall behind her desk.

"Thanks," he finally said, before pushing himself to leave.

Courtney stood up too, used to the habit of shaking her client's hand and walking them to the door. She still didn't want to touch Duncan though so she just stood there. She made a nervous smile and waved towards the door. Duncan gradually turned around and started heading out. He was moving unnaturally slow, and Courtney had to refrain from murdering him with her pen. Why couldn't he walk like a normal adult?!

Soon he was finally out the door, the wood shutting quietly behind him, and Courtney immediately pulled open her bottom desk drawer for Febreze and Lysol wipes. She heavily sprayed the air around the chair, though it only partially masked the cigarette smell. She then began to impulsively wipe down the leather chair with the wipes like a crazy person. She was sure that he was carrying a billion germs, most likely some with contagious diseases.

She was appalled when she pulled the moist cloth away to see a rusty red color. Seriously? He couldn't even change his clothes before coming into her firm?! She pulled out some fresh wipes before more thoroughly cleaning the seat of the chair. She at first assumed it was some sort of oil or other fluid automobile related as he did say he was a mechanic, but something made her pause at the light pink color she was now picking up. After staring at it for a few moments she threw the wipes into the trash. She paged her secretary that she was done for the day. Since Duncan's meeting was so short, she was going to take the extra free time to fire her secretary, but she could do that tomorrow.

She quickly left her office with her purse in hand, looking around to see if she could still see Duncan. He had been moving rather lethargic. When she didn't seem him around, she told herself she was relieved. It wasn't any of her business.

It took her some time to get down the elevator and out the door of the nearly twenty story building. The weather was finally starting to get warm outside. The sun was pleasant and there was a lot of people out and about enjoying the end of the day. She crossed the street on her way towards the garage when she did spot his green haired head sitting near the bus stop.

She sighed, debating in confronting him or just continuing her way home. She would be a few minutes early at this rate. Maybe she could finally pull out those bath salts she had been wanting to use.

She was more annoyed with herself than anything as she felt her black pumps take her over to the man smoking on the bench.

He looked up at the sound of her heels and she felt a stab of guilt with how hopeful his expression was. That quickly faded as he flashed his teeth at her. "Hey, Princess! Knew you couldn't stay away!"

She un-shouldered her purse, gathering the leather strap before whipping it over Duncan's right thigh.

"Holy shit tits!" he cried out, doubling over in pain and holding his leg.

"You're hurt," she stated.

"What are you talking about," he growled, grinding his teeth and trying to hold back the obvious pain he was in. "You whip that thing like Indiana Jones. It's going to startle some people."

"What is that!?" she pointed. He was trying to hide the deep red that was now seeping through his jeans with his hands. "You're bleeding!"

"Now that you've reopened the wound..." he grumbled.

"You bled on my office chair! Do you know how expensive that chair is? It's full-grain leather!" She took out her cell phone. "You're going to the hospital."

Duncan laughed. "No, I'm not sweetheart."

"Yes, you are!"

"No I'm not," Duncan said much more darkly. He sat on the bench with both his arms on the backrest, daring her to try to make him move.

She finished calling for her car on the app on her phone and carefully packed the device back into her purse. "Of course you are," she said. As if it was even a question. "Did you drive here?"

The look Duncan gave her confirmed that he didn't. He was sitting at the bus stop after all.

"You can't smoke that here."

Duncan sighed before putting the cigarette out on the bottom of his left sneaker.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

"What makes you think that I'm going to let you take me to the hospital? And for what reason? A little cut on my leg? Just admit that you want to spend time with me." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Courtney ignored him. "How long has that wound been bleeding? It's probably infected!" That was when Courtney's car made in to their side of the street.

Duncan stopped paying attention to Courtney once he noticed the car, his eyes widening as the black Tesla parked its self cleanly in front of them. "That's your car?"

"Yes, of course." She pushed the button to open the passenger door. "Hold on. I need to put something down before you get in. I don't want you to keep bleeding on all my leather." She pulled a blanket from her trunk, before returning to the passenger seat. With one knee on the seat, she wedge a corner of the blanket underneath the headrest, missing that Duncan was shamelessly watching the way her tight, gray skirt was clinging to her ass.

She climbed out of the car, straightening the outfit, only now realizing it was riding up. She gave Duncan a quick glare, wondering if he noticed. "Okay, get in."

"This is all real sweet of you babe, but I'm going to have to decline your offer."

"What?!" she shrieked. Duncan winced, looking around to see if they were attracting attention.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me the first three times I said no."

"I'm trying to help you!"

"And I appreciate it!"

"Get in the car! You're doing this on purpose!"

Duncan laughed. "What am I doing on purpose?"

He was refusing her help to annoy her, obviously. Courtney could never stand anyone telling her no for whatever reason. She pulled out a can of bear spray from her purse. "GET IN THE CAR!"

"What the fuck is that?!" She pointed the can closer to his face. "Is that fucking bear spray? Why do you even have that!?"

"Get in the car right now, or I'll spray you and claim physical assault!"

"Courtney, we're in public!"

"I'll do it!" her voice was getting louder so Duncan pushed himself off the bench and limped over to the car, remembering why he left her crazy ass in the first place.

"I'm being kidnapped!" he shouted in a halfhearted attempt to the people walking down the street, but no one really seemed to care.

Courtney shut his door after he sat down, before moving over to the driver's side and settling herself in. Duncan watched the doors automatically lock.

"You can't be serious," Duncan stated. Courtney ignored him as she searched for the closest hospital on the large screen of her dashboard. "I'm not going." Duncan shook his head. "You can go ahead and spray me with bear spray, but I'm still not going inside."

"Don't be such a baby, Duncan." The car pulled itself from the curb. "You're a full grown man."

"I didn't really want to say anything, but I have a warrant after me, " Duncan hastily whispered, as if anyone else could hear them inside the car. "I didn't want to expose myself until I had a lawyer, and not one of those random ones they stick you with just because you don't have one! I kinda need a good one."

She frowned at him. "What the hell did you do?"

"Are you going to be my lawyer?"

"No!"

"Then I have the right to remain silent!"

"Duncan, I already told you I'm not even a criminal lawyer. Why the hell did you seek me out?!"

Duncan sighed, turning his gaze to the window. He didn't answer right away, jaw jutted out and Courtney was about to throw him out of the car in her annoyance. "I don't get along with most lawyers, okay?" he finally said.

"WE'VE NEVER GOTTEN ALONG!"

"Oh, don't say that Princess!" Duncan was staring at her lazily now, head resting on the headrest. She glared at it as it hadn't been covered with the blanket and he was probably now getting hair gel on it. "We got history, babe."

She laughed. "History? Our history is like a book written about World War III."

"Not all of it," he defended.

She continued her scowl. Since the car was on autopilot she could give him her full attention of her hatred. He had to know how much she hated him. God did she hate this beautiful, sexy, disgusting ogre. It hurt to look at him. She had to keep looking, keep hurting, so she would remember. She kept imagining just breaking and attacking him in the car. She may be able to kill him without any witnesses seeing.

Duncan coughed nervously, looking away. "Okay. I'm sorry. But, for old times sake, would you mind not taking me to the hospital where I will undoubtedly get arrested?"

She should take him. Turning him in was probably the right thing to do. Whatever he had done, he deserved it. "Why? It should be like going home, shouldn't it?"

Duncan, the jerk, has the gall to look hurt. "Seriously? I got locked up for ten years! Now that I'm out there's no way in hell I'm ever going back!"

"Ten years? They gave you the maximum sentence?" she gasp. It wasn't like she tried to keep in contact with Duncan after he got arrested. "Against Chris Mclean?!" She let out a breath. "He must have had a decent lawyer..."

"Yeah, like in he had a lawyer and I didn't!"

"Well if your innocent this time, what do you have to worry about?" She asked sarcastically. She turned away from the face he was making. She couldn't believe it. He was making her feel guilty! "Fine!" she snapped, slapping the dashboard to cancel the destination to the hospital. "Where are you staying?"

"Ha, no where yet..."

"Are you serious?!"

"There's a warrant to arrest me! I wasn't sure where I'd be staying the night! If I turn myself in today, it would have been jail."

"So is that where we're going?"

"I haven't called the lawyer yet."

"Call him right now!"

"Can't we do that in the morning?" Courtney gave him a warning look. "I mean I will do it in the morning. Listen, just drop me off here. It's fine."

Courtney couldn't remember if he was always this pale or not. His skin had a sheen of sweat even in the conditioned car. "But where would you sleep?! And you're bleeding!"

"I'll figure it out."

"Duncan!" she clenched her fits. "You're making a whole list of bad choices!" Curse her conscious! He would be dead if she let him. He was going to die. She was going to let him die. "Fuck!" She slammed her palm on "home" on the dashboard. "Stay in the car!" she ordered.

"Thank you," Duncan responded incredulously.

"Oh! This isn't anything you think it is! This isn't some hook up. No funny business! One night only, and then you're turning yourself in. Again, call Lou Pierce right now. His schedule is always very busy so you need to get this out of the way if you want to be able to meet with him anytime soon."

"Or... you could just be my lawyer. Save the time."

"Duncan!"

"I trust you." She couldn't look at him. The way he said it was a plea. It was too hot in the car. She adjusted the temperature to a chilly 12 degree Celsius. "Well, actually I don't trust you." Duncan corrected, no longer looking at her and giving a quick shiver.. "You're a crazy bitch, but I'm confident that you could win the case."

"Why!?" she snapped.

His blue eyes rolled over to look at her. "Because you're a crazy bitch." He grinned. "And didn't you say you wanted to expand your resume?"

"Duncan, a defense attorney needs to have an extensive knowledge of the law-"

"Which you don't have?"

"But I specialize in medical practices."

"You specializing doesn't mean you don't know the other stuff, and I know you. You have an impulsive desire to cram you head with useless knowledge, so don't tell me you didn't study criminal law as well. At least a little. I did read your LinkedIn profile."

"I took a few classes," she admitted. She could still feel his eyes on her. She turned the car off automatic so she had something else to do and drive the thing herself. "Okay, a couple semesters, but Lou Pierce is way better than I am. His experience triples mine."

Duncan stretches his arms over his head. "That's fine with me. I don't care about experience. Plus, I'll pay you what he charges and more."

"I don't need your charity."

"It would look good on your resume..."

She laughed. "Because I won one criminal case? What did you even do?"

"I told you I wasn't telling you unless you be my lawyer."

"And why is that?! What could you possibly have done that you don't want to tell me? It must be atrocious but honesty, knowing you, I wouldn't be surprised."

"I already told you that I'm innocent, and the reason why I'm not telling is simply because it's none of your business."

She stared icily at him.

"You look good, by the way."

She stared at the side of his head, waiting for the back handed compliment. It was weird that he was being nice, but it was because he wanted something. "Wish I could say the same of you," she said. He did not look good at all. He had stopped looking at her, but she could see the vein in his neck pulsing slightly, the skin flushed more obvious with how pale his face had become.

He had a bar through his ear that she didn't remember. His ears were also slightly gauged. They weren't before. She could distinctly remember the two silver rings he used to wear in each ear, as they had been her favorite thing to nimble on back when she didn't hate him. Back when she used to think he was sexy. The rings were still there, but they were hardly noticeable with everything else in his ear. She hated gauges.

The car was about at her apartment complex. Once the car was parked, she got out of it and slammed the door annoyed. Having Duncan over was going to throw her whole nightly routine off. She had a guest room, so there was a place to put him. It would be rude to ignore him the whole night though. She should entertain her guest.

Wait, what the hell was she thinking?! Duncan wasn't a guest! He was a charity case. It was good karma, letting him stay. She was helping the less fortunate. As she watched him climb out of the car, she wondered at what cost though. He would probably steal her stuff.

"Hurry up!' she complained. He was moving so slowly.

"Hey, Princess, I'm trying here!" he gritted his teeth as he limped after her.

"Can you walk?" she asked with more concern.

"Is this not walking?"

"You're limping."

"Yes, Captain Obvious. If I'm too slow for you, go on a head. I'll catch up."

She grimaced. She could let him lean his weight on her. No. He'd probably attempt to make a grab at her or something. Pervert.

Not that he had been a huge pervert yet. He still called her stupid pet names. That was disrespectful.

She slowed her pace so he could keep up with her. "Try not to be too obvious when we get inside the lobby."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure thing. Sorry."

"You attract attention already!" She motioned to his image. She only now just realized that both his arms were sprouting tattooed sleeves from underneath his T-shirt. He hadn't had those when she had known him last. He probably got them to cover up that matching tattoo he had gotten for her all those years ago. Not that she cared. She had her's laser removed after all. "Your clothes are dirty," she said instead.

"No they're not!"

"They know me here, okay?" she opened the lobby door. "Don't embarrass me." They walked into the ritzy lobby which had a modern theme, artistic lights bouncing off the shiny walls and checkered floor. A young man sat at the front desk who didn't even look up when they entered.

"This is my cousin." When the lobby man still didn't look up, she cleared her throat and again repeated, "This is my cousin." Once she got confused eye contact from the man, she awkwardly directly Duncan past the desk and through the open glass doors that lead to the elevators. Duncan followed bored.

They went up to her floor, which was thankfully not too much of a commute, but with each step Duncan was taking she was becoming more worried. She could clearly see the darken stain in his jeans.

She quickly unlocked her door with her key card and went in, pulling off her shoes in a rush. "Okay, just um..." she motioned deeper into the apartment for him to enter more fully. She hung up her purse. "Don't sit anywhere." She was surprised that he toed off his sneakers without her telling him to.

"Hey, uh," he motioned to a picture of her and her fiancé on the wall. "You're man's not coming home is he?"

"He doesn't live here," she answered. "He's working late anyway."

She heard Duncan sigh in relief. "Cool."

"I'll get towels."

She went up the stairs quickly. Blood was hard to clean out. Red. She should use dark red towels.

When she came back downstairs, Duncan was in the middle of the living space, staring out the large windows that encompassed the far wall, over looking the water of the bay.

"The bathroom's over here," she motioned with her head. She let him enter first since the space was a little tight. "Ah, you sit on the toilet."

"Um, why?" he asked as he walked over towards the toilet while she rested the towels in the sink.

"I'm not having you get blood on my flooring," she said. She opened the under the sink cabinet for paper towels. "It'll probably stain the gout in the tiles too." She ripped off a few pieces. "So be careful when taking off your pants."

"Yea, yea, I got it. Shoo now."

She stared at him. "You can't do this by yourself!"

He stared at her incredulously, dark eyebrows so far up his forehead they almost touched his hair. "You want me to take off my pants in front of you?"

"Excuse me? Out of necessity! You refused to go to the hospital! You are not making a mess in here! I won't ever be able to get the stains out and will have some explaining to do to the landlord and my fiancé!"

"Uh-huh,"Duncan put his hands on his hips. "I got this, honey." He pulled out a lighter and pocket knife from his jeans and placed it on the small space next to the facet. "Though if you got a bigger knife, that might help. I think mine's too small and that's why the wound reopened. I lost my Damascus knife. I think a fucker stole it."

"Why do you need a knife? I have scissors." Courtney started digging further into the cabinet to find the first aid kit. She found it, placing it over the towel so she could have the strength to open it.

"What? Nah, scissors are too small." Duncan was now sitting on the toilet but he had kept his pants on, breathing heavy as he leaned back onto the tank.

"It's easier to cut the gauze with scissors."

"No. Courtney. Just go away. I got this."

"You're about to faint right there! Then what do I do? Let you die in my bathroom?!"

He ran a hand over his hair messing up his fohawk as if he could erase Courtney's annoying voice out of his head. He made a grab for the pocket knife. "I'm not going to let myself pass out with you in rape mode."

"And what exactly do you think I could possibly do to you?"

"You've invited me to stay at your place for the night, 'boo' conveniently not here, and you've already ordered me to take off my pants!"

"Do you want my help or not?!"

"You gonna be my lawyer?"

"No!"

"Kay." He rolled his eyes, opened his pocket knife and tried to light his lighter. He failed the first time which was unlike him.

"What are you going to do with the knife?!"

He got the flame lit. "Cauterize the wound."

"No you're not!" she grabbed the knife out of his hand much to Duncan's annoyance. "You're just going to burn healthy flesh."

"It's stopped me from bleeding to death before."

"I have first aid training." Duncan mockingly mouthed the words as she spoke them. She smacked him lightly on the face. She wish she hadn't as she could still feel the feeling on her fingers after doing so."Once we stop the bleeding I can stitch it up. Take off your pants."

"How desperate we are," Duncan chuckled.

"This is not a sexual situation!"

"You're wearing stockings."

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed. "How does that have to-"

"You're wearing stockings instead of tights and I'm pretty sure I saw a garter strap when you had your ass up in the air while you messed with your car before you kidnapped me. Why go through the trouble? Why not just wear tights? You said Ken Doll," he waved his arm in the general direction of where the picture was out in the apartment, "wasn't coming over so it's not for him. Either you were planning on going somewhere else, or you were just hoping some random sap would jump your bones. I'm guessing it's the latter with the way you dragged me over here. You're desperate. I can smell it on ya. Unfortunately for you, I'm not in the position to shag you right now."

Frustrated, she screamed, grabbing the front of his shirt like she could shake him to death. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? I'm engaged to be married!" she said unnecessarily. "My life is fucking fantastic! But your's! You're so alone that you can't even find yourself a lawyer, bleeding in my bathroom, getting jealous-"

Duncan laughed. "Jealous of your life? Been there and done that sweetie. Let's see how much you have after the divorce. I hope your fiancé know's to get a prenup before he goes through with it. He's got to be at least ten year's older than you. What a little gold digger you turned out to be. I'm not surprised though. Don't tell me he didn't buy that car for you."

She clenched her jaw, trembling in her anger.

"And he's got to be paying the rent for this fancy place. That's pretty smart of him, realizing he'd lose his fucking mind if he was stuck actually living with your crazy ass."

Courtney couldn't take it anymore. She snapped. Clenching her fist, she socked Duncan in the left eye. Unfortunately, that's where he had his eyebrow piercing and it caused her fist to be in quite a bit of pain. "Ow!"

It hurt Duncan too, and his first reaction was to make a grab for her to prevent her from hurting him further. His hands grabbing her arms put her in a panic and as she struggled, her stocking feet slipped on the tiled floor. Her elbow landed on Duncan's wounded leg. He screamed and she screamed back, trying to claw at his face. Her nails should be able to catch one of his many piercing and cause more damage. She attempted to get her feet underneath her, but Duncan had trapped her with his legs before she could fully stand. He also managed to get one hand in her hair, pulling it almost painfully, effectively restraining her. She was at a weird angle, so she had to hold onto his damp shirt so she wouldn't slip further into his lap.

They glared at each other, breathing hard. The side of his face where she had hit him was slightly blushed pink, and his lips were pale. She couldn't move, not even to turn her head. He kept holding her, staring at her, and she almost wondered if he would bring his mouth down to kiss her. She almost wondered if she wanted him to, to hold her down with his strong arms that she couldn't possibly fight, and take her on floor.

But instead his grip loosened, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell backwards with a clunk against the water tank.

"Duncan!" Oh no! She had killed him! He was dead in her bathroom!

Without his strength she was able to free herself to stand, and she leaned over him, patting his clammy face repeatedly. "Duncan! Duncan you fainted!"

He groaned in answer, at least telling her that he hadn't completely lost consciousness.

"We have to stop fooling around! How bad are you hurt?" she asked as she began to tug open his black studded belt. Her eyes had caught a glance at his leg. It was now drenched. Why had they wasted so much time? "I need you to help take off your pants. You're too heavy for me to lift."

"Whatever you wish, you greedy little princess." Courtney ignored the comment. Duncan used the sink to help him lift his hips from the seat of the toilet. Even with Duncan's help, it was not easy getting the thick and now wet fabric down. "But since..." Duncan breathed, "we're doing this anyway, do you think you could cut it out for me?"

"Cut what out?" she grunted. Pulling wasn't working. She was going to have to roll it down. She took out a pack of cigarettes, his wallet and his phone out of his pocket to do so.

Duncan sucked in a breath of pain. "The bullet," he gasped.

She paused for only a moment. "YOU WERE FUCKING SHOT!? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING!? YOU NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!" Courtney let go of his pants as if holding them would cause him further damage. "They would have to report the gunshot," she stated, now it dawning how important it was for Duncan to not want to go to the hospital.

Duncan stared at her balefully as her mind was still trying to reorganize itself.

"We can't go to the hospital," she said more calmly. "Charlie!"

"Who?"

"My fiancé. He's a doctor."

"Of course he is!"

"Oh, but we can't call him! Fuck! Did it hit any major arteries?! Of course it did! Look at this! You're bleeding to death!"

Courtney had been freaking out for the last minute or so, so Duncan attempted to push his pants past his knees himself, swearing the entire time as he revealed the soaked bandaged he had underneath."Give me the God damn scissors!"

Courtney hastily handed him over the first aid kit. "Charlie has more medical supplies in the office. I'll be right back! Don't die!"

She rushed away to grab it, also stopping in the kitchen to grab a bucket, some juice and a hand towel. When she came back, Duncan was still attempting to get one of the blades of the scissors under the ruined bandage. She put her things on the ground. "I'll do that." She poured some of the juice in a glass and handed it over to Duncan.

Duncan stated at her a little confused.

"Drink it, you've lost a lot of blood." He grabbed the glass in his bloody hand. She tied a tourniquet high up onto his thigh, trying really hard not to think about how he was only wearing his loose boxers. He grunted as she tightened it. "I don't think it hit the femoral artery or you would be dead by now. This should stop the bleeding." The sink was too small to fill the bucket with so she had to turn on the shower to fill it with water. There were bigger bathrooms upstairs but she didn't think Duncan would make it up the stairs. As the bucket was filling she cut off the bandage and cleaned his leg as best as she could with her damp cloth. "You said the bullet's still in there?"

Duncan tried to twist on the toilet. "It went through the back. Like I said earlier, I had tried to cauterize it, but my knife was so small and I couldn't really see what I was doing."

"This is such a mess!" Courtney exclaimed as she looked at the back of Duncan's thigh. Now that she had a lot of the blood cleaned up she could see the actual wound. "Why didn't you try to get the bullet out before you tried to cauterize it?!"

"I was kinda busy trying to run for my life," he replied sarcastically.

"Who shot you?!"

Duncan stared at her over his shoulder, his eyes questioning her.

"No! I'm not going to be your lawyer." She heaved a breath before looking back down at the bloody mess. "I think I feel it in there..." She tentatively prodded his flesh with her wash cloth. "Are you sure you want me to cut it out?"

"I'm in agony, so yeah."

She got up and went to the medicine cabinet above the sink. She grabbed a bottle of pain relieving pills and poured two into her palm. "Here take these," she said.

Instead of taking the two pills, Duncan grabbed the whole bottle, dumping it into his mouth before taking a swig of his juice.

"You're going to give yourself a stomach ulcer."

"I'll add that to the list of my problems."

"Fine." She was unsure of what to do with the two pills in her hand. She decided to give them to Duncan as well. Then she rolled up a dry wash cloth. "Bite into this. And take this." She pulled a form ball out of her pocket.

"What is that?"

"Stress reliever." She had used it many a time before for herself. Her hands were as strong as nails from it.

Duncan looked a little pathetic, holding his glass of juice next to the pill bottle on top of the water tank, washcloth in his mouth and stress ball in the other hand.

She washed her hands and put some gloves on for good measure. "Okay." She went back over to the wound, disinfecting the area. "What if I sever an artery?"

Duncan removed the cloth from his mouth "Then I bleed to death and die, Courtney."

"What do I tell the police?!"

"Don't? Just throw my body into the bay! I don't know! I won't be your problem anymore so I don't see why you're worried."

"S-stop talking! I'm trying to concentrate." She selected one of her fiancé's small knives for slicing skin, using her other hand to try to pin point the best place to make the incision. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

Courtney drew the knife across lightly, too tentative for a deep enough cut, but it didn't stop fresh blood from oozing. "OH MY GOD!"

"OH MY GOD!" Duncan cried almost exactly at the same time she did, more out of nerves than actual pain as he already hurt. "Should I look?!" He twitched. "I don't wanna look."

"Stop moving! It's bleeding again. It's alright." She pushed gently with her fingers hoping the bullet would just pop out. She grimaced when she realized she would have to make the cut deeper.

"Fuck. Is it out yet?"

"No!"

"Hurry it up!"

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, this feels great!" he said sarcastically.

"I see it!" she cried out triumphantly. "Okay, I'm just going to push it out now."

Duncan put the cloth back in his mouth to shut himself up, squeezing the stress ball. The more he talked the more he distracted Courtney, and he seriously didn't want her to mess this up.

"Oh my God... Okay... Get over here you fucking little... Almost..."

Duncan bit down harder to prevent him from asking how it was going. Whatever she was doing sure as hell was smarting.

"I got it!" She stood up, holding the tiny little bullet in her hand. In the cramp space she almost tripped over Duncan's leg in her attempt to walk in a confused frantic circle. He grunted at the pain from her foot smacking him. She stumbled over to the little sink and dropped the bullet into it, making a tinkering noise as it spun around at the bottom of the porcelain. "Okay, now I'm going to sew you up." Duncan made to shift to look back. "Don't look at it now!" she said, waving a bloody hand at his face. "Don't move."

Duncan reached over to pick up the bullet from the sink, ignoring that Courtney told him not to move. He examined it for a moment, as if reading some strange information in where it came from. "That mother fucking cock sucker."

Courtney rolled her eyes, not bothering asking since she knew he wouldn't tell her and began sterilizing the wound. "Ow!" he whipped his head around to glare at her.

"Stop moving!" She wasn't as squeamish now that the bullet was out and the bleeding had lessened. It wasn't the first time she had stitched up a wound either. His skin twitched a little under her touch but he was no longer verbally complaining. She had been using her one forearm to help hold up the pant leg of his boxers to keep them out of the way without much thinking. It was only now that she realized her arm was pressed against his butt to do so. She briefly had a thought of how firm it was before trying to remove her arm and having the fabric annoyingly fall in the way again.

Duncan was miffed, drumming his fingers on the sink. "You know how much longer this is going to take, Princess? Cauterizing would have been a whole lot quicker."

"Don't call me Princess!" she snapped.

"What? I always call you Princess."

"Yeah, stop it."

Whatever, Bitch. He stopped himself from saying that out loud. He needed her to hurry up. Now that the bullet was out, he was more aware of her touching him and how he wasn't wearing any pants. Thankfully, it didn't appear that Courtney noticed how it was affecting him, but he had already almost fainted earlier because with what was left of his blood supply was going into his boner. Man, why was she so fucking hot when she was crazy? This was the reason he had always known he was no good around her. She was going to fucking kill him. Especially if she noticed a tent in his shorts.

Currently he had it down the pant leg that she wasn't pushing and tugging on. Thank God. And with him leaning toward the sink he was able to hide the bent leg with his upper body.

The both of them were quiet, which had always been unusual. He was even staying still for her, only his face twitching somewhat when she pulled the thread through his skin.

He thought maybe he should say something, something inappropriate, just to break this quiet calm that was now over them. He couldn't stand it.

Thankfully she starting speaking again.

"I'm going tie up this artery."

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"I watched someone do this once."

"Oh great."

"The man's leg had been completely cleaned off!"

"What?"

"When we went to Guyana. It was a tree cutting accident. That's where I met Charlie actually. He was there to help unfortunate children get vaccinated, and one of his colleges, Roberto, just tied the whole thing up. The leg that is. It was truly inspiring. Well except for all the blood and screaming, but I only freaked out a little. Charlie has a very calming voice and he explain the process as we watched Roberto do it. "

Now Duncan wished she would shut up.

It took a couple more minutes. He kept the cloth in his mouth to keep himself from saying something he would regret and would most likely have Courtney saw his leg off, but then she was soon done.

"There. These stitches are suppose to be able to dissolve on their own. There not really meant for big wounds, so you're going to have to be careful that you don't reopen it again." She was putting something cold and slimy over the wound now.

"I still think we should have cauterized it."

"That didn't work well the first time!" she snapped.

"I'd have help this time. Besides, doesn't the thought of melting my flesh satisfy you?" he joked.

"It's temping," she agreed as she placed a bandaged over the wound before securing it with medical tape. "But I think you'd like that too much."

Was she flirting with him? He grinned to himself. Relaxing for the first time in her presence.

She got up, gathering the things around. "I'll let you clean yourself up and I'll go make dinner. Here's a clean towel."

"I'm not hungry."

"You're eating something. I'm not carrying your body when you pass out again." She pulled off her gloves before putting them in the wastepaper basket, running her hands in the sink again just in case Duncan had AIDS or something. "You realize how much blood you lost? I can't believe you're not dead! Besides I'm hungry. It's way past dinner time and I have a lot of work to do."

She carried her things out of the small bathroom into the kitchen leaving him. Only once out of Duncan's presence did she let her body shudder with a sigh. "Fuck... Duncan..." She felt a surge of pity for him all of a sudden. It was weird. She hadn't pitied him in... twelve years? And he had been in prison for ten of those years. He certainly didn't usually deserve pity. What in the world was going on with him?

Not that she cared.

After making sure to sterilize each of the tools, she returned them back to their box. She left the box on one of the stools to the breakfast island before getting ready to make dinner. Glancing at the small calendar set in the middle of her freezer door, she read the quick, neat notes on what her meals would be for the next several months. She hadn't planned on feeding a guest tonight. She bit her lip as she placed her finger over a day where Charlie would be over. Tuscan Chicken for Two. She could substitute that night for another meal, and make a note to buy ingredients to make up for the lost day. Usually she had the meals pre-planned a month a head of time and ingredients delivered weekly as she didn't have much spare time to think about cooking. Her secretary was the one that put her in this mess. She was the one that allowed Duncan to set up an appointment. She should send her secretary out to go grocery shopping for her and Charlie for the day missed.

She tapped her cooking tablet which was on a stand that looked like a cute jolly chef. Charlie had given it to her as a gift when they had first started dating. Charlie didn't cook, and thought it important that she did. She wasn't an award winning chef or anything but she could certainly follow a recipe, and she didn't really mind the act either. It was one of those things that had a set of rules that needed to be followed and Courtney always loved her rules.

After finding the recipe pre-bookmarked on the same app that was responsible for delivery her groceries, she got to work, deciding to pair it with a cup of creamy pasta. She placed some classical music on to calm her nerves. It wasn't every day that you dug a bullet out of your ex-boyfriend's leg. She tried not to worry about him. Of course she wanted to know what was going on, but he was holding that information to himself to try to get her to do what he wanted. He was still Duncan after all, and Duncan always knew how to get himself out of trouble without her help. Or at least he acted like it.

Duncan was all too happy to get Courtney out of the bathroom as quick as possible. He locked the door when she was gone, not being surprised if she just flung it open to yell at him for using too much water or something. He ripped off his sweat soaked shirt and then very tenderly pulled his boxers over the new bandage on his thigh. Looking at it, it did look a lot better than the one he had tried to slap on earlier, but whatever. He took a quick very cold shower to get the reminisce of blood, sweat and Courtney's touch off his body.

Courtney had a whole array of different flowery and fruity soaps. He wasn't too keen on using any of them in fear that he might smell like a girl, but who was he really trying to impress? Courtney was and really always had been way out of his league. He didn't really have any hope of getting back with her. Though that didn't stop him from sniffing each one of her shampoos until he found the one that reminded him most of her. Man was he a sorry sap.

After his shower he dried himself off with the towel Courtney had left him. Fluffing up his hair, he decided to snoop around the medicine cabinet, too. He found some cotton swabs he used to clean his ears with. He also found a deodorant stick and after looking at the winter green label he concluded it was most likely Courtney's fiancé's than her's. He decided to use it anyway, hoping it would leave an armpit hair behind. He only looked once at his dirty, bloody clothen to decide he wasn't putting those back on, and instead took a pink robe that was hanging on the back of the door that was definitely Courtney's.

He unlocked and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the sappy classical music, and his brain was already thinking of some snarky comment to say about it. Until his nose smelled the food cooking, that is. He didn't realize he was hungry until he smelled the rosemary and thyme. The sun was now beginning to set, flooding the entire apartment in yellow and orange from the large windows all around.

He had never thought of himself settling down to a domestic life, but now, in this comfortable, inviting atmosphere, he felt a spark of jealously for the picture of the man down the hall. He crept further into the living room, rounding the wall that divided the kitchen from the hall. Courtney hadn't heard him leave the bathroom as she was still busy stirring a pot and checking some sizzling chicken in a pan. She had taken her suit jacket off, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up to the elbow. She even had an apron on, the string tied tight around her small, slender waist, only accentuating her large round hips. He wanted to go stand behind her, put an arm around her to secure her against him. He wanted to kiss her neck under her hair, much like a husband would do to his wife who was cooking dinner for him. Fuck. He shouldn't be here. He didn't come here for this. Why was he here?

Courtney saw Duncan in the corner of her eye and became startled, almost dropping a piece of chicken. "W-what are you wearing?!" she cried, her eyes a gaped.

"You really wanted me to put back the bloody clothes I had on earlier?"

"I..." She should have brought his clothes to the wash. The laundry room was down stairs though, and what if someone suspected something if she waltz down there with a pair of bloody jeans. She could attempt to wash them in the tub maybe... "You... I should have put your clothes in the laundry."

"Then they would have still been in the laundry and I still wouldn't have them."

"I could have found you something else! That's mine!"

"Oh is it?" Duncan asked with a crafty grin. "It's not your Sugar Daddy's?" The pink robe barely covered his ass, and he had only halfheartedly closed it, revealing that he had even more tattoos on his chest. The image said something in fancy lettering, but she couldn't see enough of it to read it.

"I make my own money!" she said referring to the 'Sugar Daddy' comment. Charlie wasn't that much older than her. "You look ridiculous," she snapped, slapping a piece of chicken onto a plate before spooning some pasta onto it.

"We at lease it's comfortable. So airy down here too."

She rolled her eyes, refusing to look at him in case she saw a little too much of him. "Did you get that bandage wet!?" she accused. She did notice his hair had been damp. "I told you those stitches-"

"I didn't put my leg in the water spray. Relax."

"Still, water droplets would have run down your skin and gotten on it."

"Run down my skin, huh?"

She practically threw his plate on the kitchen island toward him, hoping the clatter would destroy the mental image that he was trying to force into her mind. She took her plate over to the dining table, so she could eat her food as far away from him as possible.

"This is a pretty romantic dinner," he noted, picking up his chicken with his fork and taking a bite out of it like a neanderthal instead of cutting it up like a civilized person.

"It's just food. There's nothing romantic about it!"

"I mean, I was expecting Spaghetti-Os or instant Mac and Cheese. Not a home cooked dinner. You went through the trouble."

"First of all, ew. Second of all, I do not have Spaghetti-Os or Mac and Cheese. I only eat real food, so this is what you get, too. I'm not poor." She poured herself a glass of wine.

"Obviously. Could I have some of that?"

She looked up, realizing she had forgotten to give him a drink. "No! You get juice."

"What are you, my parole officer?"

She marched back to the kitchen area to get him the juice. "With the amount of blood you've lost, you'd be sloshed after one sip."

"I don't get drunk off of wine."

She ignored him and handed him the glass of juice which he took with a roll of his eyes. She returned to her meal, intent on finishing it without more conversation. She was glad that Duncan had chosen to stand to eat because they both knew the robe wouldn't have been able to keep him decent on one of the bar stools.

Duncan's eyes wandered around the apartment as he munched. "So where's Brittany?" he asked.

"Who?"

Duncan put down his food and stared down at Courtney. "Brittany," he repeated incredulously and Courtney's stomach sank with guilt as she realized who he was talking about. "Don't tell me. She died?!" She was surprised to hear the distress in his voice. "I never got to say goodbye!"

"She didn't die," she tried to reassure.

"YOU GOT RID OF BRITTANY?!" he shouted, angry now.

She shouted back. "SHE'S AT A WILDLIFE SANCTUARY! SHE'S A WILD ANIMAL! THAT'S WHERE SHE BELONGS!"

"Are you fucking serious?! It was your idea to get a raccoon in the first place! And after all the money the both of us spent in that custody battle to keep her!? What the fuck?!"

Courtney huffed. "Oh, and she would have been better off with you?! You, being in prison and getting shot at! She would have gotten hurt living with you, especially in her old age, or taken and put down!"

"You didn't even keep her. I loved her!"

"I did what was best for her!"

"Yeah right. I bet it was because your Mr. Perfect wouldn't accept her running around here."

"No, I got rid-I sent her away," she corrected, "way before I met Charlie. She's happy there. I get pictures of her from time to time."

Duncan stomped over to the table and swiped the wine bottle up. Courtney sat, too shock to stop him. She knew that Duncan had always had a soft side for animals (even though he had tried to hide it from people) but she had really thought he couldn't stand the wild raccoon she had brought into their lives in a hope that caring for it would make Duncan into a responsible parent for their future kids. He had fought her tooth and nail over anything that he thought was supposed to be some sort of lesson for him.

"You owe me this," he said referring to the wine bottle he just stole and returning to his spot by the breakfast island. "For all the money from the law suite, and my broken heart." He took a swing straight from the bottle.

She stared at him in bewilderment for a moment."You didn't even like her! You only wanted to take her to hurt me!" Duncan was still gulping the wine down, his eyebrows drawn together in a glare, ignoring her. "Okay! Fine! I'm sorry then! I'm sorry I sent Brittany to a wild life sanctuary without... I don't know, letting you know about it."

Duncan swallowed. "I... accept your apology." She stared at him, wondering if he would apologize to her for all the things he did. He had cost her a million dollars on several occasions, not to mention all the times he'd broken her heart.

He burped.

Nope. Of course not.

"Where is she anyway?"

"Alberta..."

"Alberta!" He threw his free arm in the air. "All the way over there!"

They continued their meal in silence. Duncan had finished first though she hadn't noticed. When her plate was clean he walked over and took it from her.

"I'll clean up. You made dinner."

"You don't know where everything goes!" she protested. Duncan ignored her, limping over to the kitchen with her cutlery.

"I think I can figure it out," he said, as he rinsed the juices off the plate in the sink.

"I have a dishwasher."

"Got it," he said, opening it up to place the dishes in.

"The pan can't go in the dishwasher."

"Right." He headed over to the sink.

"Don't use the Scotch-Brite. It will scratch the pan. Use the regular sponge. And the Ajax under the sink for the copper bottom of the pot."

"Yes, Princess."

She watched him for a moment, him doing exactly what he was told. After staring as his broad back strained against her own small robe she turned to leave. "I'll take care of your clothes."

She decided to take them down to the laundry room anyway. Who would really be paying attention? She debated about spot treating the blood spot first, but as the blood was more than just a spot, she just threw all the clothes in the wash on cold. After they've been soaking for a while, she would address the situation after.

When she returned to her apartment, Duncan was sprawled on her couch, but thanks to the couch arm she didn't see anything unsightly when she walked in. She frowned, before going over to the closet to pull out a blanket. She threw it over his lap, startling him for a moment.

"Thanks..." he said, covering himself up more with the soft material. "I refilled your wine glass. It's over... there... somewhere." He pointed in the general direction of the coffee table that was only about a foot and half away from him, his hand wavering like he couldn't see it clearly. "I used a coaster."

"Are you drunk?"

"Fuck no, babe." She sat hesitantly in the chair across from him, picking up her glass. He rubbed his face hard. "Unless you... drugged me."

"No, I just opened that bottle of wine."

"What kind was it?"

"French Burgundy. It has a rather low alcohol content. It's because of your blood loss."

"Psh!" He waved his hand. "I'm good... I'm good." He shifted on the couch, rubbing his injured leg as if he was uncomfortable. "I'm real good."

She gave him a small grin. She had never seen Duncan drunk before.

His shining eyes went around the room before landing on hers. "How are you? You good? You seem good. You look good. You look great."

"Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

Her phone started ringing. "Oh shit!" She had left it in her purse all this time. That was very unlike her. She rushed over to retrieve it from where it hung by the door. "It's Charlie!" she said quickly over her shoulder. "So you know, be quiet!"

Duncan actually giggled, putting a finger to his mouth as if to shush himself. She rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs.

"Honey!" she said answering the phone. "I'm so sorry I missed your first break! I've been so busy it just slipped my mine."

"That is perfectly fine. I didn't even notice, truth be told," he chuckled. "It's been busy here at the hospital as well. I was actually calling to see if I left some equipment at your apartment." Courtney's eyes widened.

"Yes... you did..." she said, rushing back down stairs for she had left it in the kitchen. "It's exactly where you left it here in the office!" she lied, as she quickly grabbed the box to return the tools.

"Oh good. Now don't touch them. They are very expensive."

"Oh I would never," she said as she placed them back in one of the closets of the office.

"They're a sample from a new vendor the hospital may buy from. If you could just make sure I take them with me next week when we see each other."

"Of course."

"Alright, goodbye my darling."

She cringed, wiping the box with her blouse as if she could erase her fingerprints from it. She had been wearing gloves when using the actual tools and had cleaned them as best as she could, but her paranoid mind just imagined Charlie finding Duncan's blood on them.

She crawled her way back downstairs.

"You tell him 'bout me?" Duncan asked as soon as she was in eyesight.

"It didn't come up."

"Interesting."

"It doesn't mean anything!"

"I'm kidding...! Stop it..." he slurred. "We're just old friends catching up."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We're not friends. We have never been friends. What this is, is charity, which I unfortunately can't even write off in my taxes!"

"You are such a good, nice person, aren't you?"

"I am," she agreed, sitting back down and choosing to ignore his sarcasm.

"You keep in touch with any of the others?"

"Hell no." She gave a look of disgust. "I don't want to ever think about that time of my life again." Not that being on international TV hadn't been helpful with landing her a job or getting clients, but she was glad that most people didn't seem to remember Total Drama anymore.

"Why not with Gwen?"

"Why?" she snapped. "How do you know I don't keep in touch with Gwen?!"

"Um, because you just said you don't keep in touch with any of them."

"Oh. I don't. Just busy I guess. Especially since I moved over here." She hadn't even thought about reaching out to Gwen after she was voted off the show. She still wasn't sure if she had completely forgiven her. It annoyed her that Duncan brought her up. Of course he would bring her up.

Courtney sipped at her wine. She didn't care to hear about the others.

"Well at least you're doing good. You got the job, money, love. You're doing great."

"What about you?" she didn't really want to talk about him but it would be better than him repeating how great she was doing. "You said you had a job."

"It has a modest pay check," he winked at her. "As for the love part, I'm flying solo at the moment." Not that she had asked.

"And your recent legal trouble?"

Duncan tisked at her. "You know what you need to do to obtain that confidential information."

She rolled her eyes. "In the morning I'll call Lou P-"

"I don't need you calling anyone for me. I'm an adult."

"What about your parents? Can't they help you out? Aren't they police officers?"

Duncan laughed cruelly. "Ah. That didn't much work the first time I got thrown into the crib. They're basically both assholes anyway. It don't matter though."

Courtney frowned at him. She wasn't particularly close to her parents either but they would have stepped in for her time of need. In fact, it was her father that set her up with her fiancé when she had all but given up on men.

"So when's the wedding?"

"Excuse me?" Courtney stared blankly at him before realizing what he said. "Oh, you mean my wedding!"

Duncan rolled his eyes.

"It's not for many months! Not until the fall."

"I see."

She found herself talking about her life plans, used to running her mouth about them. "It's going to be at Stanley Park Pavilion on September 23rd, which is run by Charlie's second cousin, so we don't have to pay the whole vendor fee. Afterwards we're having our honeymoon in Rome, before coming back to North America. We will then move to Charlie's estate in California, where his father is gifting us this lovely, modest, 10 bedroom home on 77 acres!"

"California?" Duncan grumbled. She noticed that Duncan had the wine bottle on the floor next to him after he picked it up again. She decided to not pay attention to it.

"I have several connections in the States already, and it would be a perfect time for a career change if I don't feel like sticking with medical. I could go into corporate law if it seems more suitable. But we will only live there for as long as it takes to raise the children. We will have them right away since I'm already almost 30." She shuddered. "I don't want more than two because more than two would just completely ruin my body, but also in Cali, they have an excellent designer children program."

"Designer children?"

"Yes." Was he just going to repeat everything she said? "You can prevent a number of birth defects with genetic science these days, and I don't want my children having anything against them they would hinder their success. We want one boy and one girl. Charlie Worthington the 2nd, and Harriet Worthington. You can choose their eye color! Both Charlie and I have brown eyes, but it turns out we both have the recessive gene for blue, so with a little science," she snapped her fingers. "Blue eyed children. It has a 99 percent success rate. Why not pick the eye color while we're at it? Oh, they are just absolutely adorable. Can you imagine, children with my skin complexion but with bright blue eyes! So precious." She was actually really looking forward to having children. She knew she was a little late in the game, but it was important to make sure she had her career established before doing so.

Duncan was staring at her with his cheek in one of his hands, elbow on the armrest. His own, very blue eyes narrowed at her, quite in contrast with his dark brows. She suddenly remembered where the notion of her wanting blue eyed children had come from. She had forgotten, as being with Duncan had been so long ago. "If you want kids with blue eyes so much why don't you just get with someone with blue eyes? You get a higher percent of a chance and don't pay anything. But I mean, why care what your kids look like? You love them no matter. Whatever."

"I-I guess. I mean of course I would love them no matter but... It was more Charlie's idea. It was a silly teenage fantasy I had and Charlie said he wanted all my fantasy to come true no matter how silly they were." She laughed.

Duncan rolled his eyes but she decided she didn't care.

"Don't see what's wrong with your eyes." He gazed at her. She swallowed her wine. "You could get lost in them. Dark, black, like your terrible, horrifying, materialistic soul."

"Yeah whatever." She ignored him, for she had thought he was about to complement her. "Once the children are in their late teens, we'll head back to Canada where I will then get into politics to run for Prime Minister. I won't be able to become president of the United States, but Harriet will be. It needs to be Harriet because they haven't had a woman president yet."

"What if she doesn't want to be the president of the United States?"

"Why wouldn't she want to be president of the United States!?"

They were talking too much about her. She didn't need to know Duncan's opinion on her parenting when she hadn't even become a parent yet. She tried to think of another question to ask Duncan, but she had already tried to do that earlier and he had been quite vague about everything. Duncan let out a big yawn.

"Why are you in Vancouver?" she asked bluntly.

"Vacation."

"It has nothing to do with you needing a lawyer?" she asked suspiciously.

"That was an unfortunate mishap that coincidentally happened afterwards. I was actually hoping that I could get work over here but all this... you know, stuff just happened."

"Well what can you tell me about yourself?!" she snapped.

"You want to know more about me?" he asked arrogantly.

"We're having a conversation! Both parties should be participating!" She thought he might slip up with some details.

"Sorry babe. It's been kind of a crazy day for me today, and I'm beat."

She looked over at the clock. It wasn't even eight PM yet, but with what evidence she could see already, Duncan did have a crazy day. She sighed. It wasn't really that she wanted him to stay up to keep talking to her. They weren't getting anywhere in this conversation anyway. It also wasn't that she liked the way his glazed eyes were staring at her either. Both things had been awkward. But she had to know what he did... Or what he didn't do. He was looking at her expectantly now, waiting for her to cave and agree to him. Then he would tell her all the juicy details.

No! She must resist. If there was one thing she did know about Duncan, it was that he was a conniving, manipulating, secret keeping, backstabbing liar! The years didn't really seemed to have changed him. Nothing to prove to her that he wasn't all those things. But she would still be nice. She would be the better person. She stood up. "I'll show you to your room."

The guest room was right in front of the bathroom so they only had to walk a few feet. "You know where the bathroom and the kitchen are if you get thirsty or something. When your clothes are ready, I'll leave them in the bathroom." She opened the guest room to present the queen sized bed. "The sheets are clean."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he said quietly as he followed her into the room. He looked over to the far side of the room which had the same giant windows as the living and dining area. She flipped a switch so that the blinds moved down.

"Sorry, this room doesn't get used too often. Have a good night." As she began to walk out, she heard him breathe her name. Stopping at the doorway, she turned around, the door handle in one hand as she was ready to close it. He was standing rather close to her. She stared straight ahead, her eyes meeting his chest rather than his face. She didn't want to look up at him, to acknowledge that he was taller or had any power over her whatsoever.

Did the tattoo on his chest say "Bad Boy"? How very cliche and dumb.

"Goodnight." She suddenly looked up when he had spoken, forgetting that he was talking to her. She could see that he was still slightly drunk and he was leaning in too close to her. When she caught the sight of his icy blue eyes she panicked for only a second.

"Yep!" and then she closed the door in his face. She dusted off her hands like she had just taken out the trash, before she did a quick check to see that the kitchen was actually clean. Then she went upstairs.

She should be quite satisfied with herself. Obviously she was doing better than Duncan career wise. She was a lawyer after all, but it made it even better to discover that he was currently single. Not because she wanted him of course, because she was totally not single. Not only was she engaged, but she was marrying into a family that would have her financially set for life, way more than a measly million bucks from some game show would have made her.

She suspected that maybe Duncan was divorced, as he had mention something about it earlier when they were fighting in the bathroom. Though she couldn't see where her would have had time to get married if he had been in prison for 10 out of the 11 years since she had seen him. Maybe he was talking about a failed long distance relationship. Of course it didn't work. He had been in prison!

She wouldn't get divorced though. No, everything was going too perfectly for her for that to happen.

This had been her dream ever since she first broke up with that ogre. Him, alone and a failure, while she was successful happy, but now that she was older and more mature, all she really felt was pity for the poor man.

She tried to get some work down, but she found herself too distracted to effectively do so, so she left her office to just do some reading over her current cases in her bedroom. She was relieved when her phone buzzed, notifying her that Duncan's clothes were done.

She threw his T-shirt and boxers into a drier before returning to her apartment to try to get the blood stain out of the jeans herself. These were probably his only clothes, she thought as she scrubbed at the stain with a toothbrush, ignoring that he did say he had a job. What if he was homeless? Was he really on 'vacation'? He certainly didn't have a woman to do his laundry for him.

When the other articles of clothing were dry, she even ironed them for him, turning the T-shirt inside out so that it wouldn't hurt the band logo that was on it. Though it was already coming off as it was. She then neatly folding the T-shirt and boxers, setting them on the toilet tank with his wallet and other personal items. She threw out his cigarettes. He didn't need those. He'd thank her later. She let the jeans hang over the shower curtain to dry. After she was done doing these tasks, she convinced herself that she had done more than enough for him already, and heading back upstairs to continue reading.

She sat at the desk in her room, lights off besides the desk lamp, staring at her case files. Duncan came here to go on vacation? Who goes on a vacation alone? She guessed it wasn't too weird of a concept. She wasn't sure. She never had time for vacations. And then somebody shot him while he was on vacation? How terrible. Why would somebody shoot him? He probably deserved it...

Or maybe he got shot by accident? Maybe that was the whole reason he was looking for a lawyer in the first place. That made perfect sense! Of course that made perfect sense for a normal person. Duncan was more likely to find the guy that did it and murder him himself. Maybe that was what he needed the lawyer for...Oh gosh!

After about an hour of her rereading the same sentence over and over again, she decided she was going to take that bath after all. She went back downstairs to refill her wine glass, eyes shifting over to Duncan's door which he hadn't made a peep from. He must have pasted out.

Don't check on him, Courtney... She could just imagine it, her opening the door which would undoubtedly wake him up. He would then assume she had opened the door to crawl into bed with him. What other reason would there be?!

She hadn't had sex in a while. In fact, she hadn't actually had a sexual encounter with Charlie yet. Nothing but polite kissing. Charlie was a born again Christian, one of the many reasons why her father had picked him out for her. But she also found it kind of romantic when Charlie had suggested to wait until their marriage night. Courtney had never been in a relationship with a man that didn't want to get into her pants, and in a way, it had made her even more attracted to Charlie. It wasn't that Charlie was not a passionate person. He was extremely passionate about his work, education and culture. He was charming and suave, but not too flirtatious and definitely never vulgar. Courtney decided that she would wait and that it would be worth it.

She didn't think it weird. As people got older, they married quicker. Her and Charlie didn't have a fiery love affair but that wasn't why they were getting married. They were getting married because they wanted the same things in life. They were much a like. Well maybe except for the fact that Charlie didn't seem to miss sex as much as she did. She had been wearing sexy underwear, but it wasn't because she was trying to cheat on her fiancé. It was for herself. She liked to feel attractive sometimes. She didn't need a man to be turned on. That's what vibrators were full! Many of her previous boyfriends had been pretty lazy lovers anyway.

Duncan hadn't been lazy in that way, but that didn't matter.

She filled up her tub in the master bathroom, looking for her bath salts. She wasn't going to think of Duncan in any sort of sexual way. She should go back to pitying him. After setting up the tub, she found one of her old college text books on audio to play. She undressed, letting the words of The Fundamentals of Health Law drone on. She soaked her stressed body, relaxing to the rules of the law. She had of course read the book from cover to cover but it never hurt to reread information. She finished her wine and listened until the water became cold. Chapter five was giving some fine facts that were relevant with a case she had be struggling with earlier this week. It was a botched up boob job that they were claiming the fixing of wasn't medically necessary. She normally thrived on these types of cases as she felt she was empowering these poor women against the doctors that had marred them which were almost always men. This was only difficult because her client was also a bitch. It was taken up precious energy that was needed to concentrate on what had to be done for the case to just communicate with her client in a civil manner. She did feel bad. Her fake breast were obviously painful.

She was glad that she had no interest in cosmetic surgery. She never had a man complain, though looking at her thighs she thought she could stand to lose some weight. She wedged working out in her busy day at 4:30 am in the morning, but it didn't really seem to be helping much. She stopped pinching at her thighs when the audio made an excellent point that would go hand and hand with her case.

"Of course!" she said to herself. "Why didn't I think about that before?" She let the tub drain, still listening to the audio going over such a completely basic point of human rights. She had this case in the bag as long as she could keep her client from complaining over every single thing the judge said.

Inspired by the text book, she left the master bathroom, drying off and slipping on a sheer pink night gown that reached just mid-thigh. She turned her laptop on, jotting down some notes on how she would present her case at court next Thursday. She worked for a few more hours on her laptop, the clock now showing it was about 10:15 pm.

"... that would lead a medical surgeon to commit his duties in such a perfunctory course of action... " She typed with one hand, the other one holding her electric toothbrush in her mouth. "Perfunctory!" she said around her toothbrush before turning it off and heading back to the bathroom to spit. "That's a good word..."

She spat and wiped her mouth, looking at her reflection. "... is completely and utterly unexceptionable!" she finished her sentence. She made to go back to finish typing it as well when she heard a squeak on her stairs.

She froze. She had completely forgotten Duncan was even here, too caught up in her work. Now, she wasn't sure why she should be hearing him on her staircase. Did she lock the door? No. She hadn't.

She put a toe under her bed, pushing out the baseball bat she kept under there and then marched forward with her weapon in hand. How dare he? That pig headed, sick, perverted bastard! She ripped open her bedroom door in anger.

She caught Duncan on top of the staircase, wide eyed, still in her bath robe, still looking ridiculous. "What are you doing?!" she accused.

"I-"

"Your clothes are in the down stairs bathroom. There's no reason for you to come up here!"

Duncan's mouth just hung open, unable to form a sentence. She shut the door behind her, not wanting him to see the inside of her bedroom. "Where you trying to get into my bed?!"

Was he still drunk?! Why was he standing there just staring at her?! She suddenly remembered what she was wearing and that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. She couldn't really recall just how sheer the garment was and didn't want to look down at herself to acknowledge her embarrassment. With the way that Duncan was looking at her it appeared that it must have been quite sheer indeed, but she knew the bodice and the end of the skirt had a lace pattern that she hopped covered anything that may have been seen.

"I have a bat!" she yelled which seemed to snap him out of whatever horned, wine induced stupidity he was having. She held it up, using her arms to hide her nipples just in case he could see through the lace.

"I think I could take you with a bat," he said playfully.

"It has a 10 inch spike nail in it," she said, twisting the bat so he could see. His face went back to looking fearful. "What are you doing up here?!" she asked again.

"Listen, Courtney, I..." He took another breath. "I came up because I never said thank you. Not sincerely enough, anyway."

She lowered her bat but still stared at him with suspicion.

"For letting me stay the night, making dinner, patching me back up. You really didn't have to. And even referring that other lawyer for me. I just feel really shitty that you might not understand how incredibly grateful I am. This, this is so nice of you."

"Any decent human being-" He suddenly dropped to his knees. "Duncan!" she cried fearing that his wounded leg had given out on him.

"Courtney." His eyes were still locked with hers, his fingertips reaching for the floor in front of him. "Thank you," he murmured again.

She blinked at him confused. Surely him going on his knees to thank her was a little overboard. "Duncan... get up." This was making her incredibly uncomfortable. She should feel empowered to be standing over him. But she didn't.

Instead he just leaned slowly forward closer to her. "Thank you..." he breathed again, and Courtney felt his breath ruffle up her skirt, sending shivers across her body.

She stared at Duncan wondering if he knew. He did. He was right about her sexual frustration. He had known that all night. He hadn't come here to just thank her. She should bring the bat, nail down, through his head.

His eyes were burning her. "Let me thank you..." His breath was coming out hard. Another one seemed to fly up her legs. She was so alarmed by the reminder that she wore no panties that she didn't even notice when Duncan's nose slipped under the hem of her night gown. She gave a startled shout at the feeling of warmth, his chin hairs scratching the inside of her thighs and she fell back against the door. Duncan's hands kept her from crumbling to the floor, securing themselves just right under her butt.

She was thrown back in time, being 16 at camp Wawanakwa and running off into the woods at night with Duncan as he tried to convince her how far they could go without a condom. God, he still had that tongue piercing she realized. And he remembered how she liked it too. It had been so long since anyone had done this for her.

She gave a small whine, not sure of what to do as her bat had been dropped. Her hands instead found themselves digging into his hair, gripping his head for dear life as he languidly lapped his tongue against her. She felt herself move one of her legs up over his shoulder against her will, his tongue now reaching into her. She gave a throaty moan, now grinding her hips against his face without shame. He growled in satisfaction and for a moment she remembered that she was with Duncan and what she was letting him do to her. But it was too late now, wasn't it? She couldn't stop this.

One of Duncan's hand began to travel up her body. It cupped her breast, lifting the weight of it for a moment before going higher, fingers stroking her neck and hairline. His thumb skimmed the outline of her open lips. She bit gently on the pad of his thumb, and Duncan groaned, vibrations seeming to travel up her bones. He inserted his thumb deeper into her mouth, thrusting it in time with his tongue. She moaned, begging, pleading, for him to reach deeper inside of her. She sucked on his thumb, bobbing her head as if that could get him in as deep as she craved him to be.

His thumb popped out of her mouth when she needed to breathe. She was moaning louder, signaling she was getting close. Duncan swiftly changed technique, his tongue now rapidly moving over her clit. She yelled out loudly, her voice getting higher and higher as her orgasm approached. Duncan returned his hand to her hip, holding her still as he gave her no more mercy. She screamed out in a high pitch voice as she came on his face, gasping she couldn't get enough air.

She opened her eyes to see that her butt was now on the floor, as the both of them must have slid down to the ground. Duncan's face was still in between her legs, giving her a lazy kiss. She blindly reach up behind her, looking for the door knob. She must escaped this. She had already turned the knob as he was lifting his head.

She fell backwards as the door opened, quickly grabbing the bat as she pulled herself into the bedroom. On her hands and knees she quickly closed and locked the door. She tried to stand but she just crumbled to the floor again. She crawled to her bed, hoping sleep would erase what had happened, and turn it into a dream.