Author's Note: The following is just a simple scene between Daemon and Katy. I really hope I captured their essence and they are terribly OOC, but you will have to be the judge of that. I don't own anything! That would make me the beautiful, fabulous, Jennifer, which as I do not live in West Virginia... ah... you get the point. Please Enjoy. As always, your comments are highly appreciated!

Her slightly tarnished knife easily glides through the scarlet watermelon even if it sticks in the rind. Katy stands on her tiptoes for extra force when she hears the front door slam. Feels a tingle skirt over the nape of her neck. She doesn't look up when he enters the kitchen. Knows it might injure his ego if he isn't acknowledged the second he walks in. And at the moment, she feels like ticking the shit out of him. He clears his throat to announce his presence. As if he doesn't know about that mysterious prickling. What a dick.

"If you're going to ignore me, then I'll just leave," he says, his voice rumbling through the kitchen as he prowls across the tiled floor.

"I'm sure you will," she replied smoothly, not even sparing him a glance. She's glad her back is to him, and he can't see her face. She can barely suppress her laughter.

He chooses that moment to reach out, lightning quick, and snatch a piece of her precious watermelon.

"Put. It. Back," she hisses, each of her words clipped and directed as she points the tip of her knife at the bowl. "Or I swear I will use this knife." He just wiggles his eyebrows and lazily bites into it.

"Don't be so feisty Kitten," he chides against her glare after he swallows. "Although it is kind of cute."

Her eyes narrow farther. "Cute? Daemon Black I swear on all the power in the Source if I ever-" She stops mid-sentence as he leans over and takes another piece. She realizes suddenly that he's not wearing a shirt. And that his fucking perfect body is extremely close to her face.

"Go on," he says, but she can't say anything. Can only stare. Even after all this time...

"What's up Kitten?" he prods. "Cat got your tongue?" He's so close that she can feel him smirk at his own pun. She feels her cheeks go slightly warm and glares venomously to try to make up for it. As he backs away, more fruit in hand, she realizes she doesn't have the upperhand any more. Fuck turning the tables. She's going to make them spin so fast he'll never know what happened.

"Go home." Her voice is harsh as it leaves her throat. Perfect. "And put a fucking shirt on."

"Language, Kittycat," he murmurs.

"Like yours is any better."

"Point taken."

"Please," she says, backtracking and trying a sweeter tactic, her tone void of its previous malice. "Put the watermelon down, go home and put on a shirt."

"You want me to put a shirt on? Are you sure about that?" He steps forward again and now it's not just her face that's flushed.

"I don't think it will be that hard. You're faster than the speed of light." He's nearly on top of her now, their toes touching.

"We both know this isn't a matter of difficulty." She narrows her eyes, hoping that like daggers they can pierce his soul. Or at least his ego. Hell knows that could use some deflating. She takes a deep breath through her nose, trying to find fresh air to clear her thoughts. But when he's this close, she's pretty sure she can smell him. And that's doing weird things to her brain.

She tries to take another deep breath. It comes in as rather shallowly. "Daemon you will march straight over to your house and you will not come back until you are fully clothed. Otherwise, you won't get anymore of this watermelon. Got that?"

"Really?" He dips his head so that his lips barely graze the spot where her jaw meets her ear. "Cuz I think you'll give me whatever I want."

"Like hell I won't!" she says, pushing him away. He laughs softly, winks, then disappears, gone before her very eyes.

And he's taken the watermelon with him.

"Asshole!" she screams into the now empty kitchen. She hears his laughter from the living room. Rolls her eyes. She walks slowly, contemplating how to take charge of the situation crumbling in her palm. She also enjoys making him wait. It seems to be the only thing she can hang over his head. She halts abruptly as she approaches the living room, not sure what she was expecting to see, but sure as hell not this. "What the fuck are you doing? How the crapsicle can you even do that?"

He shakes his head at her language. "C'mon Kat, you know it's not that hard."

He dangles from the ceiling, his head pointed directly at the floor and his hair spewing in all directions. "Why are you hanging from my ceiling, shirtless, eating watermelon?" He takes another piece from the bowl, levitated to his eye level. He doesn't answer, only chewing carefully, thoughtfully even. "Well?" she prods.

"You tell me, Kat. Why am I dangling from your ceiling?"

She rolls her eyes. "Get down and leave my house."

"You're being very demanding." The words come carefully across his lips.

"Oh shit. Does this mean... What exactly do you want from me?" she says slowly, cautiously, searching his eyes for deviance or malice. Which of course she finds.

"Kiss me."

"That's it? You do realize I'm dating you and you don't have to work this hard for a kiss, right?" She feels a pang of regret in pointing this out, the queasiness in her stomach fearing he'll up the ante and she'll be forced to do something much worse.

"Yeah. That's it."

"And if I kiss you, you'll go home and put a shirt on?" He nods, his hair swaying back and forth. "And give me back my watermelon."

"Well... That's mostly gone so..."

She rolls her eyes. "But you'll put a shirt on?"

"Yeah." She walks up to him, slowly, his upside down green eyes sparkling as they meet hers. She doesn't break the eye contact, lowering her lids only when she's close enough that it's impossible to hold his gaze. Brushes her lips against his. It's weird at first, awkward to kiss him upside down. But in a screwed up way it's also beautiful, elating. She pulls away after a moment, running her thumb over the curve of his jaw.

"Clothe yourself dude." she drawls, spinning on her heel away for him. She hears a thud as his feet hit the floor. Can feel a tiny shudder roll through the house.

"Only if you feed me first."

"You just ate all that watermelon! And that was so not our deal!"

"So? I'm hungry."

"There's food at your house! Better food most likely."

"I want ice cream. You know that there's never any ice cream in my house. Dee's such a pig."

"And there's not any ice cream here either," she lies smoothly.

"Are you sure?" he growls. "I seem to remember you complaining yesterday there was no Hershey's syrup to put on your certain frozen dairy dessert."

"So? I ate the last of it. It's all gone now." She knows this is falling apart. All he has to do is open her freezer and she's last week's toast. She prays to every deity she can think of that he won't open that fucking freezer.

She shifts nervously on the balls of her feet. "Yeah... no," he says, studying her face with a smirk. "You know as well as I do that the smile you're giving me is your "This is Complete Bullshit" smile." Katy bites her lip. "See, I'll bet if I were to open the freezer..." he says, pushing past her small frame. "That I'd find..."

"No! Don't go in the kitchen!"

He stops in his tracks, hesitating, letting her give him some reason he'll know is worth less than a rat's ass. "And why's that?"

"There are ants in there." She mentally slaps herself. But she's got to keep going. It's humorous to see him like this, calling her out and not giving in. "My mom just sprayed for them."

"Then why were you cutting watermelon in there, Kitten?"

"Daemon that's my ice cream! You can't have it!"

Eventually, after much more pleading and a few promises she has no intention of fulfilling, he comes back over with a shirt on. She's a bit disappointed the view's gone, but now at least she can compete in an argument without turning into a blubbering idiot. They sit in her living room, quietly discussing, little things, the weather, school, Dee's undying love for ice cream. Nothing heavy. Not now. She doesn't want to break this moment, shatter the normalcy with him. It seems as if they're always running for their lives, barely able to survive. And she's tired of that.

There comes a time when they run out of things to say. She realizes, rather suddenly, how easy this is with him, that even though they're not talking, it's not awkward. He's on the couch and she sits on the floor, her head against his knees. His long fingers play with the coppery strands cascading down her back.

"Kat?"

"Mmmm?" she mumbles.

"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep."

"I'm not asleep. You knee wouldn't make that great of a pillow anyway."

"That's offensive."

"Why? There's nothing cushiony about a knee. It's all bone. You wouldn't want to sleep against my knee. Or anyone else's for that matter."

"Challenge accepted."

She stifles a laugh. "Fine. But mine's not available." She tries to keep her smile under control, but she can't. And hell knows he's going to take advantage of that.

"You want me sleeping against another girl's knee?" he asks, almost suggestively.

"Sure, if it's Dee."

"And if it's not?"

She pretends to think about it. "Well... I suppose I'd break up with you. And I'd rat you out to the DOD. And possibly the elders. Or maybe I'd just commit suicide. Then you'd die too."

"Whoa there Kittycat. You don't have to be so violent about it. I know you're desperately in love with me but to kill us both and destroy my reputation? Just because I slept with another girl..." She can hear the smile in his voice.

"Yup." She tries to keep all emotion out of her tone, this time, a bit more successfully. "That is completely unacceptable behavior."

"Whatever."

"As long as she's pretty, right?"

"I don't think there's a right answer to that question." She just laughs, unable to keep it in any longer. He raises his eyebrows. "That's a very nonchalant attitude toward this dire situation. You never know what could happen in pursuit of this quest."

"I trust you." But it comes out a bit more serious than the airy tone she was hoping to bring forth. He gets really quiet really fast.

"I'm not perfect Kat. I know this is worse than hell, and I hate that I've brought you into this shit-"

"Daemon."

"Because you deserve so much more. I hate what I've made you, what I've forced you to become. Don't you understand? That-"

"Daemon!" she repeats, but still he brushes past her words.

"I'm going to make this right. I don't know how, but I will."

"I don't care," she murmurs as his hand brushes her jaw. "As long as I'm not alone."

"You aren't."

"I know."

"I'm still hungry," he says after a pause, standing up and walking past her. "You want something?"

"What are you planning on stealing from my fridge?" she asks warily.

"Ice cream and watermelon."

A/N: Please review to tell me what you thought! Your comments are highly valued and appreciated!