Finally reposted. Why? Because I'm gearing up to update soon! (YES) Be on the lookout for that.

These are the previously posted chaps.

Depending on demand, I may bring back my other fics.

w00t!


----


Chapter 1


I think I love you
but what am I so afraid of?
afraid that I'm not sure of
a love there is no cure for...

“Whitney…this is really kind of hard to say…but…I’ve liked you, well…more than liked you...for a long time now, and…” He shook his head. That wouldn’t work. “Well, Whitney…this may come as a surprise but…uh…damn.” He could do this! He could do this, he could do this…

“ETHAN??” He jumped a foot in the air, unable to keep bright red flames of embarrassment from his face. Gwen stepped into the room, an amused expression on her face. “What are you doing??” Ethan blinked.

“Nothing.” Gwen released a slow chuckle.

“Didn’t look like ‘nothing’. By the way…what can you do?” Ethan inhaled sharply.

“Well, I don’t care what it looked like!! What are you doing here, anyway?!” She placed her hands on her hips.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine either.”

“I asked first.” Ethan crossed his arms.

“None of your business.” She rolled her eyes.

“Your mother was worried about you. She visited and said you were locked in your bedroom, talking to yourself.”

Ethan pressed his hand to his forehead, exhaling through his teeth. Gwen moved his hand out of the way.

“Do you need anything Ethan? We broke up a while ago…it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” He shook his head. She’d go nuts if she knew he wanted her best friend.

“No. I…I was just thinking out loud, that’s why.” She shrugged, disbelieving. He picked up a bottle of water and took a swig.

“Well, if you ever need help getting laid, give me a call.” He sputtered and coughed. She closed the door with a hearty laugh. “You’re not slick!” she shouted on the other side, trotting down the steps.

He collapsed in a nearby chair. “I’m…pathetic,” he announced aloud.

-0-0-

Ethan sat mutely at the dinner table, watching his parents eat silently. Ivy looked up.

“Ethan?” He sighed deeply.

“Yes, mother?” She rested her fork on her plate.

“Are you alright dear? I came over and…you were…otherwise occupied.” His sister, Francine (Fancy for short) began to snicker behind her napkin, and he resisted the urge to kick her in her dainty shins.

“Er…I was practicing my speech.” Ivy’s eyes narrowed.

“…your speech?” Ethan shrugged with a nervous grin.

“Well, Dad does want me to become head of Crane Industries…I have to practice my public speaking, right?” Fancy rolled her eyes.

“Give me a break,” she muttered. He nailed her with a hard kick and she yelped, glaring at him. Julian finally looked up from his plate, a smile on his face.

“That’s wonderful son…you’re finally focusing on what’s important.” Fancy rubbed her shin with a pout. Ivy smiled daintily.

“Well,” she announced, “you all do know that Nicholas is finally coming home for a visit…” Fancy grinned. She missed having her younger brother around. “and he’s bringing Dylan with him. I want you all home to welcome him here.” She turned sharply to her daughter. “I’m talking about you Francine…no surprise getaways to Vegas.” Fancy shrugged in response.

“Whatever mother…” She pushed herself away from the table. “I’m finished.” Pulling her Versace sunglasses on her eyes, she shouldered her handbag and started towards the door, tugging Ethan along.

“What’s with the attitude?” she hissed. “I know you and Fox are kinda on the outs right now…but don’t get that look on your face whenever Mom mentions him…”

He crinkled his nose. “What look?” She tapped him on the bridge of his nose.

“That look. You look like you walked in on Father.” He shuddered.

“What’s wrong with you!?” She grinned.

“At least some people in this family have a sense of humor.” She shifted her bag to her other arm.

“Where are going?”

“Out. Gwen wanted to go clubbing with me. Whitney’s coming too.” He felt his face heat up at the mere mention of Whitney’s name, and unfortunately, his sister had inherited his parent’s sense of perception. Her bright blue eyes widened, and a bright smile spread over her face. “You like her…don’t you??” He turned away from her scrutinizing stare.

“No…” She scoffed. “Well…she’s nice…” Her grin stretched.

“Nice? Is that all?” Ethan glared at her sourly.

“She’s…nice. That’s all. Just nice.” She readjusted her sunglasses.

“Right. Nice. If that’s what you want to call it.” He ignored her comment.

“What’s with the sunglasses indoors?” She shrugged.

“I’m about to go outdoors, if you didn’t notice.” Ethan gave her an amused expression.

“But it’s dark outside. There is no sun.” She rolled her eyes.

“It’s called accessorizing.” She blew a kiss to him and opened the door. “And don’t let Fox come home without telling me, okay??”
“I won’t,” he promised. He glared at the family portrait on the wall, focusing on his brother’s face. He had to take care of Fox.

Because as soon as he came home, he was sure to have Whitney in his crosshairs.

And he couldn’t allow that to happen.

Chapter 2

“So…” Dylan started.

“So…” Fox responded lazily, his hand draped over his eyes.

“Back home, huh?” Fox nodded.

“I was long overdue for a visit to my parents.” Dylan grinned, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“That and the fact that you blew your trust fund.” Fox laughed.

“That too.” At that moment, the pilot announced the incoming arrival at Harmony Airport. The two both fastened their seatbelts, awaiting the landing.

-0-0-

Dylan trailed behind Fox, the thick crowd getting in his way. Suddenly, a blur of red and tan flew into him, wrecking his balance and sending him straight onto the ground. He winced, feeling a splash of liquid all over his chest.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry." She helped him up and he snatched his hand back.

"What's wrong with you?! Watch where you're going next time!" The girl's eye widened for a split second then narrowed.

"Watch where I'm going? If you were paying attention, you could've moved! I said I'm sorry, okay!"

He looked down at his new pale blue Abercrombie button-down shirt, stained with Coke. It dripped down onto his loose Levis, making his anger rise even more. "Sorry isn't going to replace my shirt," he grumbled. The girl looked forward and fingered the material.

"It's not ruined. Just wash it. Jeez."

Fox trotted up to the bickering pair. "What's going on?" He turned to the girl. "Hey Simone. What's up?"

"What's up??" Dylan turned to Fox, his blue eyes blazing. "My shirt's ruined, that's what up! All because she can't watch what's in front of her!" Simone mouthed the word 'ass' behind him and stuck out her tongue. Fox snickered.

Dylan whirled around. "What did you just do?" Simone watched him innocently.

"I didn't do anything. Maybe you're seeing things."

"I'm not seeing things, you were doing things. What were you doing?!"

"Nothing!! Jeez, maybe you should get some glasses for the eyes in the back of your head." Before Dylan could shoot out his retort, a girl in a blue sweater grabbed Simone from behind in a hug.

"Simone! What are you doing here?" Simone grinned.

"Waiting for my best friend, of course." Kay smiled breathlessly, her bags in tow.

"Hey Fox. Who's that with you?" Simone rolled her eyes.

"His jerky friend," she whispered loudly enough for Dylan to hear.

"HEY!" Fox elbowed Dylan and greeted Kay in response. Simone grabbed a couple of Kay's bags and they moved to leave the airport, but not before Kay tugged Dylan's shirt sleeve.

"Maybe you should clean your shirt," she said with a grin, trying not to laugh. She pointed at the obvious stain on his chest. Simone grabbed her hand and dragged her away, both giggling.

"I know," Dylan muttered sourly. "I know."

--

The two got in Fox’s Escalade, thoughtfully driven by an assistant from Crane Industries. Unbuttoning his soaked shirt (after a failed attempt at cleaning it in the airport bathroom), Dylan pulled it off of his shoulders and held it up in front of him, his lips turned in a grimace.

“I was never cut out to be domestic.” Fox smirked and shook his head negatively, agreeing. Pulling one of his suitcases from off the floor, (the rest in the trunk) he unzipped it and pulled out a new one, this time in a dark navy color. Fox craned his neck from where he was seated.

“Is that the only color you ever wear?” Dylan shrugged, pulling it on and buttoning it up.

“I know my best color,” he sniffed, smoothing his sleeves. Fox punched him hard in the shoulder.

“You really need to stop watching that Queer Eye crap.” Dylan laughed, rubbing his shoulder with a slight wince.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that? It’s informative.” Fox rolled his eyes.

“Informative how?”

“Well,” Dylan started. “I now know what conditioner is.” Fox raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “You learn something new every day!” Fox shook his head.

“Whatever, man.”

“So…” Dylan began again.

“So what?” Fox asked.

“What are the women like in this town?” Fox looked at him with a grin. The subject of women never took long to come up between the two of them.

“Well…there’s the maid, Pilar…”

“Hmm, I can always go for Latin…”

“But she’s pretty old. And really Catholic.” Dylan winced.

“Damn.” Stopped that one quickly. “Hey, aren’t you Catholic?” Fox rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you?” Dylan shook his head.

“Who even knows. I know I was baptized though. Anyway, moving on…” Fox laughed.

“She has two daughters. One’s named Theresa and she’s about our age.” Dylan looked at him with interest.

“Is she hot?”

“Yeah…and she’s also nuts. She’s in love with my brother.” Dylan grinned.

“Well, then she must be insane.” Fox laughed.

“Yeah, she believes God put them on Earth to meet each other. That they’re Fated or some crap like that.” Dylan snorted. “She has a little sister though, Paloma, and she’s cute…”

“And sane, right?” Dylan asked hopefully. Fox nodded.

“She’s sane…” Dylan raised an eyebrow.

“I sense a ‘but’.” Fox nodded again.

“…But she’s underage.” Dylan groaned. “And I really don’t feel like bailing your ass out of jail just because you happened to be in the mood to go on a statutory date. Especially when her brother is a cop.” Dylan cracked up.

“You would, and you know it. Cause we’re bros, man.” Fox grinned.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t like it.” Dylan grinned back.

“But you’d still do it.” Fox rolled his deep brown eyes.

“Anyway, veering away from the felonies, there’s the Bennett family. Two girls, Kay and Jessica.” Dylan crossed his arms.

“Isn’t Kay the girl in the airport? The white one?” He gestured with his hands. “With the long brown hair?” Fox chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s okay. She has a kid though.” Dylan winced.

“Not going near that one. You say she has a sister?” Fox nodded.

“Jessica. Also underage. She parties a lot. Her dad’s the police chief.” Dylan gave a mildly disgusted look.

“Not good. Anyone else?”

“Uh…the Russells. Whitney, Gwen’s friend. She’s pretty hot, too.” He gave Dylan a secretive smile. Dylan laughed, shaking his head.

“Looks like you’ve already picked your conquest. Does she have a sister, too?”

“Yeah, and she’s legal too.” He grinned teasingly, elbowing his friend. “You already met her.” Dylan groaned.

“The bitch,” he moaned with realization. Fox shrugged.

"If you say so." Dylan shook his head disapprovingly.

“That’s all?” Fox shrugged.

“That’s all.”

"So, we have a loony, two underage girls, the bitch, her little friend, your brother's ex, and HER friend."

"And my aunt, but you're not going there." Dylan grinned.

“And your sister--” he jumped out of the way of Fox’s fist. “I was kidding man, just kidding!” He laughed. “Take it easy!” He settled back in the seat with a grin.

“What about nightclubs. There are some here, right?” Fox scoffed.

“There’s a jazz club.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Man, this had better be worth it.” Fox grinned.

“It is. You’d be surprised. The weirdest stuff happens in Harmony. Stuff you’d never expect.”

Dylan sighed. “Whatever you say. I just hope that I don’t have to see that bitchy girl any more.” Fox rolled his eyes in response.

If opposites attracted, then the inverse must be true…

Because people like Simone and Dylan…they were so alike they repelled. Fox slyly glanced at his partner in crime.

And that was sure to be interesting.

Chapter 3



Fox looked down at the sudden buzzing in his pocket. Fishing out his Motorola, he flipped it open.

1 New Message From: Fancy

He opened the text message and read it quickly.

Hey, we’re all at the Blue Note. Come and chill with us. –F

Dylan looked over his shoulder. “What’s up?” Fox flipped his phone shut.

“Fancy and the girls are all at the club, and they want to hang out with us.”

Dylan shrugged. “That’s fine. It’s not as if there’s going to be anything better at your house.” Fox leaned forward, relaying the directions to the driver. Dylan stretched out with a grin.

“Now I can finally get a taste of Harmony. We could all go club hopping.” Fox snorted.

“Club hopping where? The Book Café?”

Dylan leaned forward, peering at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? There’s only one club around here?”

Fox rolled his eyes at his friend’s shock. “There was another one, but the cops shut it down. Apparently, they were serving alcohol to teens and the owner was caught sleeping with one.”

Dylan winced. “Ouch.”

“The one we’re going to wasn’t even a club until the owner realized that she’d get more business as the only one in town.”

Dylan leaned back again, crossing his arms. “Dude, did I tell you that your hometown sucked yet?” Fox shook his head. “Well, it does.” Fox snorted again.

"I definitely didn't need you telling me to realize that." He elbowed Dylan. "I warned you, didn't I?"

-0-0-

Ethan sat impatiently in the lounge of the mansion. Tapping his foot on the ground, he checked his Rolex, gritting his teeth in frustration.

He was trying to wait for Fox, to launch a preemptive strike. He wanted to get the Whitney factor out of the way as soon as possible, but it wasn’t easy when his brother was taking so damn long!

He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, realizing that both clocks were correct, and looking back and forth between them wasn’t going to make time move any faster. Damn!

It was ten thirty already. He pushed back the sleeve of his shirt again. Make that ten thirty-one. Fox and Dylan were due home almost an hour ago. Picking up the telephone, he dialed the airport. After shamelessly using his last name to get faster service, he realized that their flight had arrived on time with no problems.

Which meant that they should’ve been home by then. He tapped his fingertips on the oak table. It doesn’t take that long to get your luggage, he reasoned.

It does for Fancy, his mind reminded him. He shook his head with a grin. Fox and Fancy were two different people, and he didn’t travel as heavily as his sister did.

Traffic. That was it, traffic. They must be stuck in traffic. I can wait. He propped his elbows on the arms of the couch and placed his head in his hands, watching the grandfather clock’s hands tick away the seconds. It was almost quarter to eleven. He called Fox again, hearing the dial tone in his ear for a moment.

“Hey.” Ethan sat up quickly.

“Fox, I need to talk to you--”

“This is Fox. I can’t answer my phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Ethan shut his phone and hurled it across the room with an angry growl. A door opened behind him and he shot up.

He was dissappointed.

“What are you doing Ethan?” Ethan shrugged.

“Waiting for Fox, Father.” Julian eyed him suspiciously. He picked up his brandy decanter and silently left, offering no more questions.

Ethan stared out of the window silently, until a pair of headlights caught his eye. He jumped up and rushed out the door as the driver exited the car. There was no one else with him.

“Where’s Fox and Dylan??” The driver looked at him.

“Mr. Crane and Mr. Banning were coming home as planned, sir,” the driver responded politely. “We ran into heavy traffic but we made it back alright. A little before we reached the mansion, Mr. Crane changed his mind and I dropped them off at the nightclub instead.” Ethan nodded.

He should’ve known. Fox wasn’t responsible in the least. Going to the club was expected.

A sudden wave of dread filled him. Whitney was at the club, too. He shouldered his jacket and got in the car.

“I need you to take me there, immediately.” The driver nodded.

“Very well, sir.”

He had to get to Whitney before Fox had a chance to sink his claws into her.

-0-0-

“Fox!” Fancy squealed. “You made it!” She rushed over and hugged him tightly. He grinned down at her as she released his thin waist. She looked behind him. “Dylan!” She hugged the other young man as well. He and Fox had been friends for years, and he was always close to her like another older brother.

“Hey, Fance,” he responded. She beamed at him and grabbed their hands.

“Dylan, I know you know Gwen,” Gwen nodded in response and gave him a brief hug. Fox gave her one as well. “This is Whitney. She transferred back from Columbia University.” Dylan extended a hand.

“Dylan Banning.” She smiled.

“Whitney Russell.” She turned to Fox. “Hey,” she said with a bit of uncertainty. She had met Fox once before, but it was years ago while Theresa (briefly) worked for Ivy. He smiled brilliantly at her.

“Whitney,” he responded smoothly. She blushed.

“I…I haven’t seen you in a while.” He pouted.

“I know, and it’s a shame.” He sidled up close to her at the bar. “I heard you want to be a doctor.” He regarded her slowly. “Very impressive.” She smiled shyly.

“Mostly because of my mom. I admire her so much. I really want to help people, you know? I know I can’t save everyone, but…I could save a life. Make a difference.” She smiled. “I thought that after Med School…I might join the Peace Corps. To help people.” He blinked.

“Wow,” he mouthed. “No wonder you turned me down when we first met.” She remembered their first meeting, when he offered to play her in tennis. “You were busy.” She winced a bit. “No, I find that …admirable.” He flashed a bright smile at her. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” Whitney blushed again.

“No…I’m not amazing. Trust me. And besides, I need to stop talking about myself before I make myself sick. What about you? What have you been doing?” He shrugged.

“First off, I like talking about you. Second, not much. At least not compared to you.” She shrugged shyly. He hailed the bartender.

“What are you doing?” He smiled at her.

“Buying my Wonder Woman a drink.” She blinked disbelievingly. “Now, what would you like?”

-0-0-

Dylan made small talk with Gwen and Fancy, and went off on his own. He met a cute girl and was dancing with her.

She was hot, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. (Apparently, what Fox said about no available women was BS.)

Best yet, she had a butterfly tattoo on her back…which almost guaranteed a great night later. She left him with a coquettish smile, telling him that she had to find her friends to let them know that she wouldn’t need a ride tonight. Winking at him, she sashayed away in search of her posse. Dylan waited with a grin when a vision in red caught his eye.

She was dancing with some guy with long brown hair. Dylan rolled his eyes. The man looked like a bum.

His eyes trailed up her legs and past her behind. Then, her dancing partner got in the way and he scowled.

Finally, her shaggy appendage left her at a table, heading off towards the bar. Downing the rest of his beer, Dylan made his move.

His other “date” out of his thoughts, he walked up to the girl. He dropped his voice to the deep growl he knew drove the women crazy.

“Care to dance?” he asked easily. He sensed her smile. The girl next to her, petite with raven hair, giggled.

“Sure,” she responded just as simply, standing.

Score!

A rap song with heavy bass pounded on the speakers as they danced closely together on the beat. He vaguely saw the blonde bimbo (he never cared to learn her name) look around for him in a huff. He held her close as she moved quickly. His hand was splayed against her stomach, holding her tightly against his frame.

Too soon, the song ended. “I should get you a drink,” he whispered to her casually. She shook her head.

“I don’t drink.” He shrugged.

“Fine with me.”

She laughed, the sound of her voice and the scent of her perfume driving him nuts. He decided then that he’d make sure that this girl was coming home with him. “I should get back to my friends now.” He grasped her hand.

“Not yet.” She turned around, and his eyes widened in horror. She stepped back, repulsion obvious on her soft features.

The bitchy girl from the airport…he was dancing like that with HER?! He was all up on THAT!!?

"Jesus CHRIST!" he sputtered as she stepped back, brushing off her dress feverishly as if he had rubbed off on the material. He followed suit and she she looked up, her dark eyes boring into his. He forced himself to turn away with a shudder. She turned away as well and he glanced at her again.

Why did she have to have such killer legs? He shook the thought out of his mind quickly.

He couldn't find her attractive! Damn!

-0-0-

Ethan jumped out of the car and dashed to the front of the line. Clubgoers behind him protested loudly.

“You’ve gotta let me in.” The hulking man looked at him, amused.

“I don’t have to let anyone in.”

Ethan reached in his pocket and slipped him a few greenbacks. “When I’m Ethan Crane,” he murmured, “yes you do.” The man blinked.

“Oh, uh yeah, sure,” he responded, pocketing the money and moving out of the way.

“Where can I find the manager?” Ethan asked quietly. The man looked around and whispered the directions in his ear. Ethan nodded with a sly grin.

Stepping into the dark club, he avoided the throngs of dancers in his way. He caught sight of Whitney, chatting with Fox. His blood boiled. He whispered into her ear and she giggled. He fumed, and was about to storm over and deck Fox right in his stupid grin, but he thought better of it.

He couldn’t just barge in there and take Whitney away. She wouldn't appreciate that at all, she wasn't the type. No, he’d have to do something else.

Beat Fox at his own game and get Whitney all to himself.

A devious plan formulated in his head. He grinned. It was crazy enough to work. His eyes darted back to his younger brother.

And he’d need to do it quickly, before it was too late.

Chapter 4

Fox glanced at the entrance of club, seeing Ethan out of the corner of his eye. Oh great, Captain Killjoy is here.

He looked at Whitney and back at Ethan, who had disappeared from sight. He shrugged. Whatever. He smiled at his companion. “Having a good time?” Whitney returned his smile, the alcohol making her warm.

“I’m having a wonderful time.” His smile stretched.

“I’m glad.”

-0-0-

“Are you insane!? I can’t do that!”

Ethan smirked. “Sure you can.”

The man leaned forward, a shocked expression on his face. “No, I can’t. You’re nuts. I’d have to report it…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ethan interrupted, leaning back and crossing his arms. He pushed the dark sleeve of his suit out of the way to check his watch impatiently. “Just leave it to me; it’ll all be taken care of.” The man shook his head nervously.

“You have no idea how much revenue I’d be losing...” Ethan pulled his sunglasses from his eyes and fished a large wad of cash out, dropping it on the table. The man’s eyes widened in shock. “Mr. Crane--!” he sputtered.

“That should cover it. Now get moving.” The man pocketed the money and stood up abruptly. Ethan stopped him. “Wait a minute. I have something to take care of; it’ll only take a second. Then set this into motion.” He patted the man on the shoulder and left the dimly lit room quietly.

On his way out, he mentally patted himself on the back with a grin. I just bribed someone, he thought giddily. Awesome! But he had no time to dwell on his accomplishment, there was more to do.

-0-0-

Dylan looked at himself in the mirror and took a large swig of his beer, swirling it his mouth and spitting it out in the bathroom sink. He could taste her scent – kind of like cinnamon sugar.

It was repulsive.

Shaking his head, he splashed water on his face and took another swig, finishing his drink. Tossing it in a nearby trashcan, he angrily stalked towards the bar in search of Fox.

I need to get out of here, he thought darkly. The other girl probably left without him, but that wasn’t his concern at the moment. He could always find another one.

He scanned the crowd. Man. All of a sudden, these broads seemed a whole lot uglier. He saw a brunette winking at him the corner and he winced, making her mouth drop in shock. A redhead shaking it with her friend …downright atrocious. Even the bottle-blonde from earlier looked downright fug at the moment, and it was bewildering.

He shrugged.

Must’ve been the beer.

-0-0-

Fox ordered another Apple Martini for Whitney and handed it to her, when a familiar, yet unwelcome face entered his vision.

“Ethan. What a surprise. What brings you here, dearest older brother?” Ethan glared at him.

“Cut the crap Fox.”

Fox batted his eyelashes innocently.

“Whatever do you mean, Ethan?” He placed his hand to his chest. “I’m stunned. And I’m not trying to bed Gwen, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” His brother shook his head in response. Fox brightened in realization, looking behind him. Why else? “It’s Whitney, isn’t it?”

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but he was beaten to it.

“What about me?”

Ethan’s jaw dropped at her remarkable timing.

“Ethan just wanted to warn you,” Fox piped in with an evil leer.

Whitney placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, watching the brothers curiously. “Warn me? About what?”

In the distance, Ethan saw the club owner walk to the DJ and whisper something in his ear. With an evil grin, he realized that Fox had played right into his hands.
“About this.” He grabbed Whitney’s wrist and led her towards the entrance of the club. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Ethan--” she protested. “Wait! Hold on! What’s going on!?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he explained tightly. “We just need to haul tail out of here!” Pushing through the various dancers, he held her close as he pulled her towards the exit.

-0-0-

That son of a—

Fox’s thoughts were cut off as Dylan grabbed his shoulder. “Hey man,” his friend greeted breathlessly. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Fox responded absently. Dylan looked around.

“Where’s Whitney?”

Fox gestured towards the exit.

“Ethan’s escorting her out.”

Dylan’s expression turned amused and he snickered. “Surprised?”

Fox shook his head negatively, paying for his drinks.

“Not really.” He stood up. “I think I’m going to go after her, actually.”

Dylan smirked and shook his head. “You do that.” Suddenly, the music stopped and all of the lights turned on. “What in the hell…”

“I’M SORRY, FOLKS,” the owner said from his position at the DJ stand. “I’M AFRAID THIS IS URGENT. WE’VE GOT WORD THAT THERE’S A POSSIBLE GAS LEAK – WE NEED YOU ALL TO EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. WE JUST WANT TO BE SAFE, BUT PLEASE WALK, DO NOT RUN, TO THE VARIOUS EXITS.”

“The hell?” Fox asked. “How did this happen?”

Dylan shrugged. “Who knows?”

Fox’s mind flashed back to earlier.

Ethan’s jaw dropped at her remarkable timing. “Ethan just wanted to warn you,” Fox piped in with an evil leer.

Whitney placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, watching the brothers curiously. “Warn me? About what?”

In the distance, Ethan saw the club owner walk to the DJ and whisper something in his ear. With an evil grin, he realized that Fox had played right into his hands.

“About this.” He grabbed Whitney’s wrist and led her towards the entrance of the club. “Let’s get out of here.”

That bastard. It wasn’t Ethan’s style, but him showing up in the club to whisk Whitney away like Prince Charming – no, it couldn’t have been a coincidence.

He had set it up! Fox laughed. He didn’t think his brother had it in him. Dylan eyed him curiously.

“What’s up?”

Fox shook his head. “Nothing, really. It’s just that everything’s happening at the same time.” Dylan looked at him strangely, not hearing him over the din of the crowd. The two men rushed to fight their way out and made it to a car waiting for them outside.

When they were safely out of harm’s way, Dylan turned to his friend again.

“What did you say? In the club?”

“It’s just interesting – how Ethan visits and suddenly there is a mysterious gas leak.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking Ethan set it all up himself?”

Fox shrugged slightly.

“It’s a possibility.”

Dylan looked at him, not convinced.

“Are you kidding? Remember who you’re talking about – ETHAN. He’d never pull something like that. He’s too…”

“Decent?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah, that works. Decent. Anyway, he’s not the type. He wouldn’t go out of his way to sabotage you.”

Fox gave him a mysterious smile. “What if he was trying to protect Whitney from me?”

Dylan looked down, pondering. “What? Are they friends?”

Fox grinned. “Yeah, but I have the feeling that Ethan’s not liking the friends arrangement at this time.”

Realization dawned in Dylan’s bright blue eyes. “Ohh – so you’re saying he wants her. If you put it that way...it makes way more sense.” Fox smirked and crossed his arms. “Whoa, hold up. That means you’ve gotta step back man. Going after someone your brother wants…that’s not cool. I wouldn’t get involved in something like that.” Fox looked at him, smiling confidently.

“But I’m not you, am I?” Dylan looked at him oddly.

“You’re going to go after her anyway?”

Fox shook his head. “Ethan’s an idiot. And there’s no way I’m going to make this easy for him.” A dramatic glimmer lit his eye. "I do believe..." he quoted, "that this means war."

Chapter 5

Dylan sat on Fox’s gigantic bed, clad in a t-shirt and boxers. Plopping down on his stomach, he propped his face up with his hands. “So… what’s the plan?”

Fox looked up from the foot of the bed and looked back at his plasma television, busily playing Need for Speed: Underground 2. “Shut up, can’t you see I’m concentrating?”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He drank water (when he looked a picture of Jenna Jameson and even she got uglier, he decided he didn’t need any more alcohol that night) slowly, watching the screen. Fox’s lips turned in a dark snarl as the race finished. He snorted. “Concentration my ass. You still lost.”

Fox scowled up at him. “Did anybody ask you?”

Dylan shrugged. “You didn’t have to. Consider it a gift from me to you. You should appreciate it.”

Fox rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t. Shut up and let me play.” He squinted at the screen and glared angrily as his car screwed a turn and started to swerve, smashing into a wall.

“Dude, you suck. Hand it over.” Dylan leaned over the bed, reaching for the controller. Fox maneuvered out of the way.

“No, I’m playing!”

“But you’re losing!” Dylan’s fingertips were barely skimming the surface of the shiny black controller as he made a final reach, Fox jerking out of the way. Sent off balance, Dylan toppled onto the floor in a heap headfirst. Fox looked at his precarious position and burst into a fit of laughter. Hastily righting himself, Dylan brushed his shirt off and pointed at the screen with a smirk. The words “SORRY, YOU LOST THIS RACE” flashed brightly on the television – in high definition. Fox opened his mouth in protest as Dylan got in his own laughs at his expense.

“You—you messed me up!!” Fox stammered. Dylan scoffed. Fox shoved him hard in the shoulder. “You suck, man!”

“I suck – man, shut up. Loser – you wouldn’t have won anyway.” Dylan stuck his tongue out snarkily.

“Yeah, whatever…it’s still ALL your fault!”

“OH! OH! It’s like THAT, huh!?” Dylan snatched up another controller and plugged it in. “Then let’s go! I’ll take you!” He sat down Indian-style, and began to select his car.

“Okay, come on then. I’ll burn you.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Whatever, sucker.”

The two engaged in a competitive race, attempting to shove each other out of the way of the screen. In the end, Dylan’s superior skills won out over Fox who still…sucked.

“AND WHAT!!” Dylan threw the controller down in triumph. “With a crappy car too – I am the master.”

Fox shook his head. “I heard…I heard. Shut up, please.” He grinned. “And for your information, being a video game nerd isn’t going to impress ladies.”

Dylan winced at Fox’s words and sat down soberly with a sigh. “Wanna go again?”

Fox looked at him curiously. “What’s with you?” He nudged his somber friend slightly. Dylan shrugged. The image of Brooke Burke came on the screen and he sighed again. “What’s wrong?”

“Fox…I think I’m gay,” Dylan announced suddenly, waiting for his friend’s reaction.

It was silent for a few moments, as Fox allowed Dylan’s statement to fully sink in.

“WHAT?!?! Where did THIS come from!?!!” Fox exclaimed. Dylan looked at him sharply and the blond lowered his tone. “I mean, it’s not bad, to each their own and everything…I mean, if that’s what you like, then I can accept it…” Fox placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Dylan sighed. “When did this happen?”

“I was looking at a picture of Jenna Jameson, right?” He sighed, and Fox motioned for him to go on. “And suddenly…she wasn’t …hot anymore. I wasn’t attracted to her at all. I mean, at ALL. I thought it was the beer, but…”

“Beer doesn’t do that. It does the opposite.” Fox looked at him seriously and let a heavy sigh. “Damn. I don’t know what to say.”

Dylan nodded sadly. “That’s alright. Thanks for listening.” He hugged his friend tightly. “I love you, man.” Fox looked around uncomfortably.

“Uh, did you think it was maybe something else? Maybe Jenna…maybe she …I don’t know? Took a trip on the fugly train? Got too much surgery or something. Maybe it’s not just you.” Fox’s dark brown eyes watched Dylan carefully.

“I have no idea.”

“I mean,” Fox continued, “You were really close to that girl at the club tonight…who was she?” Dylan looked away from him with a sneer.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fox nodded. “Okay, okay, I respect that.” He stretched. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“Why do you need to go to bed now? What are you doing tomorrow?”

Fox grinned. “I’m going to get Whitney to go out to breakfast with me.”

Dylan grimaced. He still didn’t think this was the best idea. “Are you really sure about this?”

“I’m definitely sure.” Fox’s eyes took on a competitive gleam. Dylan shook his head with a sigh.

“Going after someone else’s girl…that’s not right.” He leaned against the foot of Fox’s bed. Fox leaned forward, looking at him.

“We’ve shared girls lots of times.” Fox quirked a grin. It faded when Dylan’s face remained serious.

“Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “But that’s different. Totally different.” He looked at Fox seriously. “I think your brother really likes her.”

“That’s his problem.”

Dylan winced. “Have you really thought this through? What if Whitney falls for you? What then? Ethan will be messed up. You’ll be ripping out your brother’s heart and stomping all over it.”

Fox scoffed. “Since when did you care about my brother and his internal organs?” He crossed his arms defiantly, waiting for an answer.

Dylan shrugged. “It’s not that…but this isn’t a good thing to do in general, Fox.”

Fox shook his head with a grin. “This is new, Dylan. Usually I’m the one giving you advice.” He smiled at him and received one in return.

“Well, don’t get used to it.” His face turned serious again. “Were you listening to me? What are you going to do about Whitney? It’s not too late to back out.”

Fox shook his head. “I told you I wouldn’t make this easy for Ethan, and I won’t. I thought about what you said, but I haven’t changed my mind.”

Dylan nodded mutely, knowing that when his mind was made up, Fox couldn’t be budged for anything. “And I’m going to…”

“Feel free to tag along.”

“Whatever.” Dylan stood and walked into the other room. “Good night, man.”

Fox turned his light out. “Night. And good luck with your…er…homosexuality situation.”

“Fox. I don’t really think I’m gay. Shut up.”

“Just making sure.”

-0-0-

Dylan woke up to the sounds of rustling coming from Fox’s room. “Fox,” he groaned, “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” Fox came into his bedroom and pulled up his pants, zipping them. “It’s late, so get up and come on.”

Dylan shook his head with a moan and buried himself back under the covers. “Can’t you see I have a hangover?” he muttered irritably. He peeked out of the covers and ducked back under with a wince. “God, close the damn curtains, man!”

Fox grabbed a comb off of his friend’s dresser and adjusted his hair in the mirror. “No. And I don’t care about your hangover. Who’s fault is that?” He looked at his friend with a smile and only got a dirty look and a middle finger in response.

“Why do I have to come?” Dylan whined pathetically, “What’s my point? You don’t need me to ask Whitney out!”

“You’re my posse, of course,” Fox sang, giving Dylan a hard punch through the soft comforter. He received a loud, muffled groan in response. “So get up.” Fox sat on the bed as Dylan shifted, pulling the covers over his head.

“You can’t have a posse with one person! That’s stupid!”

Fox scoffed, pulling on his shoes and tying them briskly. “No, it’s not. Get your lazy, drunk ass up.”

Dylan grimaced, holding his head. He raised one finger, making a point. “I’m not drunk,” he announced. “I’m hung over. That’s way different.”

Fox shrugged indifferently. “Whatever you say. You didn’t even drink that much, so you can’t be that hung over. Just grab a glass of orange juice and some aspirin and you’ll be fine.”

Dylan slowly pulled himself to his feet. Opening his suitcase, he pulled out a quick outfit and managed to make it to the bathroom, rubbing his bleary eyes. He got into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Fox tapped his foot impatiently at the sound of running water. Stepping out (finally), after about fifteen minutes, he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt, loose faded jeans and a matching jacket.

“What took you? My sister can dress faster than that.” Dylan flipped him the bird again and pulled on a pair of socks and shoes.

Fox was dressed in a green polo, khakis and a pair of sunglasses. Dylan sneered at him. “Phil Mickelson called, he wants his wardrobe back.” He grinned as Fox rolled his eyes at him.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Abercrombie and Fitch.”

Dylan eyed him seriously. “Did you think about what I said last night?”

Fox shrugged. “I told you already, I’ve already made up my mind. You don’t have to come to Whitney’s with me if you don’t want to, but I’m going to see her whether you think it’s a good idea or not.”

Fox trotted down the steps, Dylan tagging close behind. The stopped in their tracks at the sound of a familiar, scolding voice.

“Where are you two going?” Fox stiffened. Just the person he didn’t want to see.

“Good morning to you too, Ethan.” He responded sarcastically. Ethan rolled his eyes in response.

“Good morning,” he answered lamely with an exasperated expression. “Now, I repeat--”

“NOYB.” Fox replied smartly. Dylan snickered. Ethan looked at him, bewildered. Slowly, he pondered the acronym.

“None of your business…” he realized.

“Exactly.” And with that, both young men walked out the door, leaving Ethan speechless and seething.

He had no idea where the two of them might be going, but he had no doubt that whatever they were up to wasn’t something good.

A sudden jolt of pain gripped his heart. What if Fox was going in search of Whitney…? He shook his head, making the thought disappear.

He sat down in a chair, massaging his temples.

Fox was a playboy, he reasoned. He slept with girls and threw them away like yesterday’s newspaper. He couldn’t still be interested in Whitney. He tried to reassure himself of his brother’s motives, but the terrible image continued to linger in his mind.

Was he?

Ethan shook his head, the thought making him ill. He wouldn’t allow Whitney to be tainted by his brother; she was too good for him.

Too good for me too, he mused. But I still love her.

Whether he ended up with Whitney in the end or not, he had to make sure Fox would n't use her and abuse her. She was far too innocent to be spoiled by his rotten younger brother.

A tiny, insecure voice in his head chimed in. But what if she wants Fox? What if he’s the kind of man she liked? God forbid…what if she fell in love with him?

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help but dread the possibility. He imagined Fox leading a lovesick Whitney around by the nose, making her do whatever he wanted, treating her how he pleased. Going behind her back, cheating on her. There was no doubt about it; Fox didn’t have an honorable bone in his body unless it concerned himself.

I think I’m going to be sick, he thought. He shook his head again furiously.

He and Whitney would be together. No matter what he had to do. Now it wasn’t just a matter of his feelings. He had to protect Whitney from Fox.

He smirked. Maybe he wouldn’t have to.

Whitney could smell a liar a mile away. Fox doesn’t have a chance.

He stopped, unsure. Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he opened it and dialed a familiar number. Swallowing his pride, he waited for the answer.

“…What?”

“Uh, it’s Ethan. Gwen…I kind of need your help.”

-0-0-

When he walked into the dining room, Fancy moved from behind a bookshelf at the top of the stairs. Her silk pink pajamas whispered across the carpet and she stared down the steps. She sighed. Ethan wasn’t speaking aloud, but she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Whitney.

It was painfully obvious how he felt about her when she mentioned her the night before. His entire face lit up, and then flushed with embarrassment when she noticed. And now Fox seemed to be interested in her. She heard his conversation with Dylan before they left the house.

There was no way that this could end well, she thought grimly. Someone’s going to end up hurt.

She didn’t want to see either of her brothers feuding over a woman. One or both would inevitably become the loser. She opened her bedroom door and walked to her nightstand, pulling her shiny pink cell phone off its charger. Flipping it open, she dialed the same number she always did when she needed advice. She waited for a moment, and got the voicemail. Listening to the message, she waited for the beep.

“Hey, Ned…it’s Fancy. I guess you’re asleep. When you get this, can you call me back? I need to talk to you. Bye.”

Sighing, she flipped her phone closed and placed it on the small table. Opening her closet, she began to get dressed for breakfast.

This had the potential to be a very long day.

-0-0-

Whitney opened the door bright and early to see a smiling Fox Crane outside of it. “Wow,” she murmured. “Good morning.” She smiled brilliantly. “I love the glasses.”

She saw Fox flash an ‘I told you so’ glance over his shoulder at Dylan, who scratched the nape of his hairline nervously.

“Hi …Dylan, right?” She asked hesitantly. He nodded, shifting his feet. The two entered the apartment.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Hi.”

“I was just about to get something to drink,” she continued. “And make some breakfast. Do either of you want anything?” Both men shook their heads negatively. She made a move to go towards the kitchen, when Fox gripped her arm slightly.

“Actually, breakfast is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” He followed her into the kitchen, leaving Dylan alone.

-0-0-

Whitney daintily plucked the glasses from atop Fox’s head and inspected them with a giggle. “I love your cop glasses.”

Fox grinned and placed them on the bridge of her nose. “Officer Russell, I’d let you arrest me anytime.” He laughed at her incredulous look and she burst into a fit of laughter with him.

“You know, you’re hilarious, right?” She leaned her forearms on one side of the counter and he followed suit on the other side, studying her with interest.

“Only when I have a beautiful woman such as yourself to entertain.” He cracked another smile easily as she shook her head with a smile.

“A charmer,” she complained playfully, “Just what I need.”

Leaning forward, he invaded her personal space. She gasped slightly, but made no attempt to move away. “What else do you need?” His soft murmur made her shiver slightly and he ran his fingers up her arm. “What?” he repeated. He felt her suddenly go rigid, as if a metal bar had been implanted in her spine.

She stepped back sharply. “Nothing. I don’t need anything.”

He winced inwardly. He was moving too fast and she got spooked. He held up his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. “I’m not going to try anything, I promise. That’s not what I came here for, honest.” He could read the suspicion in her eyes, and he wondered with a sinking feeling what exactly Ethan had told her when he rushed her out of the club the night before. What kind of terrible stories he had let her know about. The thought made him nervous all of a sudden.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

He shook his head. “Honestly, I was just going to ask you to go to breakfast with me. Nothing major.”

He saw the wariness slowly fade from her posture. “Well,” she murmured. “I guess that’s alright.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. It can be as friends.” She looked up at his simple statement curiously.

“We’re friends now?” She stepped closer. He leaned back against the counter lazily.

“We can be whatever you want to be,” he stated seriously. “Do you want to be my friend, Whitney?”

She looked at him shyly. “Uh, okay, I guess. Friends are good.” She finished her water, placing the glass in the sink. She smiled softly and he marveled at how it lit up her face.

He’d have to settle for friendship, he thought. For now.

-0-0-

Dylan shifted his weight back and forth, jamming his hands in his pockets. He looked up quickly at the sound of footsteps on the stairwell.

Simone plodded down the steps sleepily. Her hair was parted down the middle and in two low ponytails. She was wearing a pink Jem t-shirt and pink flannel pajama pants. She stretched with a yawn.

He blinked. The sunlight cast an ethereal glow on her casually dressed frame, and her skin looked radiant. He squinted, realizing that he was looking at the girl from the airport – the bitch – whatever her name was! Simone, he reminded himself. That’s what Fox called her. He rubbed his eyes and when his vision cleared, she was glaring at him.

“What the hell are you looking at?” She scowled sourly. Dylan stepped back. Every time she opened her big mouth, he was instantly reminded why he didn’t like her in the first place.

“Definitely not you, so don’t flatter yourself.” She glared at him and trotted down the steps.

“What are you doing here?” She put her hands on her hips leaning forward. He gave her a scowl of his own. “And quit mugging me.”

“I’m here with him.” He jerked his head towards Fox, who was still turning the charm on Whitney in the kitchen. Simone rolled her eyes and eyed him skeptically.

“Who are you? His sidekick?”

Dylan glared at her sourly. “I’m nobody’s sidekick.” He crossed his arms defiantly and Simone shook her head with a short laugh.

“Are you kidding? You’re like the Robin to his Batman. The Nicole Ritchie to Fox’s Paris Hilton.” She couldn’t help but laugh aloud when his bright blue eyes widened in shock and repulsion. He pouted angrily, resembling a spoiled child. That’s exactly what he is, she thought with an amused smile. A spoiled brat.

“Don’t ever – ever call me that again,” he ground out through gritted teeth, “Ever.” He winced at the not-fond memories of his various meetings with the two socialites, and the strain that their screechy voices and vapid brains put on his mind. He would never want to be compared to either of them.

She shrugged. “Whatever you say.” Fox emerged from the kitchen, Whitney in tow.

“We’re going to the Book Café for breakfast.” Fox announced to the both of them. He turned to Dylan. “Wanna come?”

Dylan shook his head. “Nah.” He risked a glance at Simone, “ That's okay. I’ll head out on my own.” He opened the door.

Simone waved to him. “See you later Nicole,” she sang. His face burned hot as he ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to shake some sense into her. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he trudged out of the apartment complex and into the fresh air and bright morning sunshine. He blinked at the brilliance.

He looked back at the building, seeing Fox lead Whitney to his car in the distance. Dylan sighed. He could always call for his own; transportation wasn’t a big problem.

Trotting across the street, he walked for a block or two before he reached the park. It was early on a Sunday morning, no one but a few dedicated joggers were hanging around. The wind rustled the leaves of the looming overhead, and birds chirped merrily. He frowned, remembering his headache.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel the least bit hung over. Just calm and contemplative. And when he began to think about it, even his throbbing headache was starting to slowly fade away.

He looked at the large, fluffy clouds in the sky with wonder as he leisurely walked on the paved pathway.

He shook his head. Fox didn’t know what he was doing. Ethan was serious about Whitney – that much he could tell. Whitney probably had no idea. If she did, she didn’t act like it.

Fox had stolen girls from Ethan multiple times…but he could tell this time was going to be different. Ethan had already bribed a club manager to get Whitney away from him – something he would probably never think of doing before. He loved her …and if Fox managed to come between them, there’s no telling how he’d feel or what he’d do.

Fox knew all of this, he was sure. And he pursued Whitney anyway. Which was dumb, stupid.

He continued walking, his bright eyes to the sky and his hands in his pockets. The wind rustled his dark brown hair as he continued to think.

Whitney was a nice enough person, but her sister…he grimaced. She was the complete opposite. She wasn’t nice in the least.

He had never dealt with anyone quite like Simone Russell before. From what he knew of her, she was fiery and opinionated, and she wasn’t exactly afraid of letting her feelings known. He was sure that she was the most interesting, yet aggravating woman he had ever met, including the ones he had slept with, and/or dated.

What did that say about the women he was with?

Then again, he wondered, what did that say about Simone?

He sighed. The only thing clear in this situation was that she was an obnoxious, annoying, spiteful, big-mouthed, bitchy girl who he couldn’t stand. That made sense.

He dropped onto a vacant park bench with a deep sigh.

So why was he so confused?

Chapter 5

Whitney plopped down onto her second-hand sofa, massaging her temples with her fingertips.

That was, to say the least, interesting, she thought. Breakfast with Fox Crane. Something she had never done before.

The friendship pact they had made just minutes before seemed to dissolve instantly, at least on his end.

She didn’t know what his deal was, but she definitely didn’t think that she liked it. He was subtle in his movements, but at the same time, all too obvious.

And it gave her a strange feeling.

The worst part was she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. She gritted her teeth in frustration and exhaled loudly, making a hissing noise. This was all too confusing.

Glancing over at her answering machine, it announced that she had one new message. Standing and pressing the button, she smiled at the familiar voice on the other side.

“Hey, Whitney, it’s Ethan…”

-0-0-

Gwendolyn Hotchkiss breezed into the Crane mansion, freshly tanned and dressed in a flirty summer outfit. She pulled her sunglasses from her face and placed her hands on her hips, watching Ethan expectantly. He had called her a half hour before, his voice pleading, claiming she had to come over because of an “urgent emergency”. She tried to comment that the words urgent and emergency were just making him seem redundant, but he hung up on her before she could make her comment.

Ethan looked up at her from his perch on the sofa, unsure of what to say. He opened his mouth slightly and closed it again, embarrassed. Suddenly, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “A tan is a sign of skin damage.”

Gwen gave him a strange look as he slapped his hand over his mouth. “I’m going to ignore that. Besides,” she stretched her arm so he could see, “this tan is sprayed on.” He leaned forward to inspect it and she smacked him across the back of his head. “Don’t do that again.” He winced and glared at her. “What did you call me for?”

He rubbed his forehead with a pout. “I told you already. I need your help.” She sat down next to him and smoothed her skirt.

“With what?” She eyed him curiously as he began to fidget. Pulling on his white polo collar nervously, he looked at her with a scowl. He took in a large breath and then turned to her.

“A date.” He muttered. Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. Cupping her hand to her ear, she looked at him with a massive grin.

“What did you just say?!” She looked at him expectantly. “What?? I didn’t hear you…”

“A date,” he repeated loudly. “I’m going on a date.” He sighed loudly. “I asked a girl out. Are you happy now?!”

Gwen bit her lip, struggling not to laugh. “I’m proud of you, Ethan. I really am.”

He glared at her. “Since when was asking a girl out a huge accomplishment?”

“When you managed to accomplish it, of course.” She grinned. “It’s so much of a challenge for you; it could be an Olympic event.” She laughed as he glared darkly and picked up a throw pillow, aiming at her head. “Ha!” she shouted, pointing a finger at him. “You missed!!”

Grabbing another one, he slammed it right in her smug face. “Didn’t miss that time!” He grinned and she shrieked, picking up his original stuffed projectile and tried to hit him in as many places as possible.

Bumrushing him to the ground, she whacked him with the overstuffed pillow, and he used his weight tipped her over, getting her in the face. Throwing the pillow behind him, he began to tickle her sides with a vengeance. She laughed so hard her sides hurt and tears welled up in her eyes. She tapped her hand on the ground. “Uncle! Uncle! Have mercy!”

Ethan crawled from on top of her with a grin. “Ha. Beat you.” She smoothed her hair and returned his smile.

“Right. Like anyone would ever believe you.” She stuck out her tongue and he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what were you saying about a date?” She sat Indian style and crossed her arms over her knees. He sat next to her and sighed.

“Yeah, about that...” His cellphone buzzed on the end table, interrupting his thought. He stood and walked to get it.

“Who is that, your girlfriend?” Gwen teased. Ethan’s eyes widened at the name on the screen. Whitney.

“Uh…” He opened the phone. “Hi!” He glanced over to Gwen and began to edge out of the room, his hand over the receiver.

“What are you doing?” Gwen asked, feigning offense. “Who are you talking to that’s so private? Your mystery woman?”

Ethan blinked, realizing that she had given him the perfect out. “Yeah, that’s exactly who it is.”

Whitney frowned on the other line. “Is this a bad time? You sound like you’re talking to someone else.”

Ethan turned to the receiver quickly. “Oh, no, no, that was only for a second.” He shot a glare at Gwen and put a finger to his lips, shushing her. He scurried out of the room and turned a corner, backing himself against a wall. Gwen couldn’t know who he was talking to, he had no idea how she may react. “So, what’s up?”

Whitney smiled. “I got your message. And, yes, I am available tonight.” Ethan did an internal jump for joy. Biting his lip to keep from crying out in excitement, he pressed the phone closer.

“Great!” he managed. He could sense Whitney’s radiant smile on the other end.

“So what do we have here,” she joked. “A date?”

He gulped, feeling his face go bright red. What was he supposed to say to that?! He didn’t want to scare her off. “Well…it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be.”

There was silence for a while on the other end. “Oh.” She finally said. He blinked. Oh?? What the hell did that mean? What was ‘oh’?! Was she angry? Disappointed with him? Amused? Didn’t she know how to throw him a hint? He thought for a moment about the right words to tell her.

“It can be whatever you want,” he remedied quickly.

“Well, it’s a date then,” she decided. He felt his heart go aflutter. She was going on a date with him? Was he dreaming?!

“A …a d-date?” he repeated slowly. He had to have been hearing things. He had to hear it again.

“Yeah,” she said with a giggle. “Is that okay with you?”

He felt a smile stretch across his face. “It’s all about what you want,” he murmured. “How about I pick you up at eight?” There was silence as he thought about his words.

“Eight is fine,” she decided. “How should I dress?”

“Nicely,” he responded with a grin. “See you then, Whitney.”

“Bye,”

“Bye,” he replied, shutting his phone with a grin. YES! He pumped his fist like his favorite football team had won the Superbowl. He grinned. That analogy was perfect.

TOUCHDOWN!

-0-0-

Gwen turned from the television. “What’s up with you? If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d think you were…” she thought for the right word, “swaggering.”

Ethan quirked an eyebrow at her with a grin. “Maybe I am.”

Gwen opened her mouth incredulously. “Oh, my God.” She stood up. “You asked her out?!” He nodded affirmatively to her question. “Wow!! Ethan, I’m impressed!”

He grinned at her. “We’re going out tonight at eight.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I’m so happy for you, I really am. What are you going to do?”

He looked at her seriously. “That’s where you come in.”

-0-0-

Simone opened Whitney’s door. “Hey, can I borrow a pair of your shoes?” She grinned at the sight of her sister flat-ironing her hair in front of the mirror. “I see you’re busy.”

Whitney looked at her with a frown. “What are you still doing here?” she scolded playfully. “Don’t you have your own dorm to live in?”

Simone dropped heavily on Whitney’s bed. “Nice to know I’m wanted,” she remarked dryly with a salty grin. “It’s summer vacation. All of the students move out of their dorms during summer break.” She stretched out and plopped backwards onto her sister’s bed. “And I don’t want to be home around Daddy and Liz. She’s making me sick.”

Whitney looked at her with a solemn expression. “I know what you mean.”

“She reminds me of a Lizard,” Simone said as she rolled over, propping her elbows up and putting her face on the heels of her hands, “I think that’s what I’m going to call her from now on. Lizzard.”

Whitney chuckled and turned back to the mirror. “You know, that fits.” She grinned at her sister. “But don’t let Daddy catch you saying that.”

Simone returned her smile. “Don’t worry, I’m too stealth for that.” She leaned forward. “So, where are you going, dressed so nice?” She eyed Whitney’s dark indigo dress with suspicion. “A date with Fox?”

Whitney’s face scrunched. “A date with Fox? No.”

Simone sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t want him, I’ll have him,” she announced.

Whitney looked over her shoulder and smiled conspiratorially. “What about that friend of his? You two has some interesting chemistry going on.” She had to suppress a laugh when her sister’s face contorted into a hilarious expression of disgust.

“Are you kidding me!?”

Whitney shrugged noncommittally. “I’m just calling them as I see ‘em.” Simone stuck her tongue out in response.

“I wouldn’t ever dream of it. Dylan’s…he’s so…”

“Annoying?” Whitney supplied helpfully.

Simone nodded in agreement. “Yeah, annoying.”

“And infuriating,”

“That too.”

“And completely adorable,” Whitney added with a smile, batting her eyelashes.

“That too…WAIT!” Simone glared at her sister sourly. “Don’t set me up like that!”

“Whatever. Denial isn’t only a river in Egypt, you know.” Whitney stood, opening her closet and tossing a pair of sneakers to her sister. “Here are the shoes, now get lost. I have a date.”

Simone stuck out her tongue. “With who?”

A smile stretched Whitney’s face and made it glow. “Ethan.”

-0-0-

Chapter 6

Ethan and Whitney sat awkwardly in his Mercedes, and she smiled shyly, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear.

Ethan gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to keep his big mouth shut. If I just stay silent, I can’t say something stupid, he thought tightly. Whitney looked at him hesitantly.

“Ethan?”

Damn! He hadn’t expected her to call him! He turned and smiled. “Yeah?”

She looked at him oddly. “Are you alright?” He stopped at a red light and she leaned closer. “You’re kind of…stiff.” His eyes widened at her choice in terminology. The smell of her perfume wafted over to him and he felt himself get dizzy.

“Stiff?” he squeaked.

She smiled, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “We can go home if you’d like. You look like need to go to bed.” She smiled reassuringly and he gulped.

“No!!” he blurted. He winced, hearing his voice crack. “No,” he corrected. “I’m really looking forward to this.” He exhaled. Whitney smiled radiantly, and he felt his heart leap into his throat. He felt a warm smile of his own spread on his face.

-0-0-

Fancy shivered, pulling her jean jacket closer around her shoulders. She walked briskly to the park bench and plopped down under the trees, looking at the moonlight spotting through the leaves. The figure next to her turned and smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Fancy grinned, and her expression turned serious and she sighed. “We should definitely pick somewhere else to meet.”

Noah nodded. “Yeah.” He exhaled loudly. “But not a lot of people come around the park at night.”

Fancy pouted in response. “Noah…why can’t we be seen together in …public?”

He had to smile at her petulant tone. He turned to her again. “My dad…he’d go ballistic.” He turned his eyes away when he saw hers widen.

“Are you serious?!” He’d been leading her around in private and THIS was his reason!? Her blue eyes began to blaze with anger. “I don’t care what your dad thinks!” He stiffened.

“You know what?! I DO!” She recoiled at his tone. “My dad’s already not speaking to me because I was away in Vegas instead of going to school like I said I was.” He stood up. Fancy opened her mouth, about to interject that Vegas was his decision, but she wisely stayed silent. “And your family isn’t exactly his favorite group of people.”

Her eyes darkened with hurt. “What is that supposed to mean? We’re not one single-brained entity you know.” She stood with him and gestured wildly with her hands. “We’re a bunch of different people! With different personalities!” Even though she adored her Grampy, she knew that her opinion didn’t match up with general consensus. But would it be too hard to understand that she – and her other siblings – weren’t exactly like him?

“I can’t afford to have my father be even madder at me Fancy!”

Her face blanched. “I understand,” she muttered. “You’re ashamed of me.” She shook her head. “I’m getting out of here.”

He grabbed her wrist before she could take a step. “No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She tugged her arm free. “Then what did you mean?” He pursed his lips and her eyes watered. “Tell me,” she implored.

He sighed again. “Fance, it’s not like I’m a guy you normally date anyway.” She tilted her head at his words, bewildered.

“What?” Her face brightened slightly with realization. “Because you’re actually…normal?” She laughed. “Because you’re not an egocentric playboy with a lot of spending money?” He didn’t answer. She grinned at him. “That doesn’t matter to me, Noah.”

He looked at her, a smile on his face. “Weren’t the one calling me for advice?”

She grinned humorlessly, plopping back down on the bench. “Yeah, about that…”

-0-0-

“Today was a success,” Fox announced, concentrating on Tiger Woods: PGA Tour on his PSP. Dylan was on his bed, looking over his shoulder. He grimaced.

“If you say so…how was that date with Whitney anyway?”

Fox shrugged. “It was what it was. Nothing major. She seems to have some sort of wall around her.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “You think? She sees through your bull, man.”

Fox rolled his eyes in response. “Whatever you want to call it.” He fiddled with the controls for a moment. “Made par,” he piped, with a grin. “Beat that, loser.”

Dylan picked up his own PSP. Aiming his virtual Vijay Singh, he took a swing. “I don’t know why you’re bothering anyway. It’s not really worth it.”

Fox shrugged. “I might as well. What else is there to do in Harmony?” He turned on the television, watching Viva La Bam. “I could try that,” he said with a snicker. Dylan turned his attention to the TV.

“Dude…if you tried anything on that show, your grandfather would chop your balls off and feed them to you.” He grimaced. “Turn that off. I’m trying to concentrate.” Fox followed the order and looked at him.

“What’s the deal? I didn’t take nearly that long.”

Dylan gave him a self-confident smirk. “You can’t rush perfection,” he enunciated, as if he was speaking to a small child. He grinned proudly. “Three under par. Beat that.”

Fox read the statistics on his own console with a glower. “You really need to get a life…you spend too much time playing stupid video games.”

Dylan released a short bark of laughter. “Man, you play just as much as I do…and you still suck.” He leaned back. “Next time you go stalk Whitney, don’t bring me.”

Fox rolled his eyes as the miniature Tiger Woods took a swing. “Whatever. You seemed to be having fun talking to her sister.”

In spite of his internal protests, a faint dusty rose colored Dylan’s cheeks. He glared and shook it off. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Fox gave him a matter of fact look. “You two seemed pretty chummy.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Apparently you weren’t looking hard enough. We were arguing. Get your facts straight.”

Fox shrugged. “I call it like I see it…” He gave Dylan a salty grin. “You didn’t tell me you danced with her.”

Dylan huffed. “Who told you that?”

Fox grinned, returning his attention to the game. “Whitney. Apparently Simone used up all of her hot water scrubbing her skin after she came back from the club.”

Dylan stuck out his chin defiantly. He pursed his lips, attempting to come up with a response.

“Take your time,” Fox drawled lazily, as if he was reading his friend’s mind. “You’ll think of something eventually.”

-0-0-

Whitney stared at the water in awe. Ethan looked at her sheepishly, his blue eyes glimmering. “I take it you like it?”

Whitney blinked. “Wow…”

Outside of the Seacliff Inn, was a large blue picnic blanket, surrounded by candles. An elaborate dinner was set up on the blanket, cast in a glow by the plethora of small lights.

The peaceful sounds of the crashing waves beneath them provided a soothing backdrop.

She looked at all of the lights in wonder, and Ethan couldn’t help but admire the ethereal glow the candles cast on her angelic face. He swallowed slightly, and tried to curb his urge to stare.

He blinked as she looked around with child-like marvel, and then turned her luminous eyes to him.

He shifted his feet nervously and blinked slowly. “Do you…uh…like it?” He stepped backwards a bit, retrieving a package from behind a tree. Whitney stood and gave him a radiant smile.

“It’s…” she gestured slightly, trying to get her thoughts to him. “Amazing,” she exclaimed breathlessly.

Ethan grinned at her, feeling his nervousness begin to subside. He pulled a bouquet of white roses from behind his back and handed them to her.

Her eyes glimmered, and at that moment, she was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

The most exquisite creature in the world.

And everything was perfect.

-0-0-

“Huh,” Fox grunted, standing right inside of the Blue Note. “Why are we here?” he scratched his side absently.

“I’m bored,” Dylan responded with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“Yeah, and I’m tired.” Fox looked at him. “I got a new WonderSwan. Didn’t you want to play it earlier, you nerd?” Because of Julian’s various International dealings, Fox always got the newest gadgets from his travels. The WonderSwan was no exception, a tiny video game console not yet exported to the United States.

Dylan shrugged. “Too bad neither of us can read Japanese.”

Fox looked down. “Yeah. That sucks.”

The two stood in silence. Dylan finally turned to his friend. “I’m going to get a beer.”

“You do that.”

-0-0-

Simone sat boredly, swigging her beer. She didn’t often drink, even though she wasn’t underage, but she felt the need to relax.

She couldn’t get Whitney’s words out of her head.

“What about that friend of his? You two has some interesting chemistry going on.” She had to suppress a laugh when her sister’s face contorted into a hilarious expression of disgust.

“Are you kidding me!?”

Whitney shrugged noncommittally. “I’m just calling them as I see ‘em.”

She felt a little woozy. How many drinks had she had anyway? She blinked. Stopping over at Jessica’s friend’s house probably wasn’t the best idea; it was like a frat party in there.

She began to count the amount of drinks she had, and realized that…it wasn’t happening.

“Hey!” Jessica slurred, plopping down next to her. “You think you could get me a beer, Monie?”

Simone shook her head. “I think…” she managed. “you’ve had…” she blinked. “enough.” She began to giggle, and fell off of her stool. “I’ve fallen!” Jessica stared, bewildered, and burst out into laughter.

“And you can’t get up!”

The two began to laugh uncontrollably, as Dylan stepped past, nearly crushing Simone’s hand in the process.

He stared at her, as she staggered to her feet. She grasped his shirt and sat down with an ungraceful plop. “What in the hell got into you? Are you stoned?!” he asked. She stumbled and giggled pathetically. “You’re totally wasted.”

“I am not,” she declared, stumbling towards him. Tripping, she held onto his shirt for dear life. “Sorry!” she squealed, trying to keep her balance.

Dylan made a face and began to pry her off of him. “I’m convinced. You must be stoned off your ass!”

Her face screwed up. “NO,” she enunciated dramatically. “No. I’m not like that.”

He snorted. “Right. And your morals prevented you from getting totally drunk.” He scoffed. “That makes a whole lot of sense.”

Simone stuck her tongue out at him. “Your mom.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

She sat for a moment, not knowing how to respond. “I know what you are but what am I?”

He stared at her, appalled. “You can’t be serious.”

-0-0-

Whitney sat, watching the water silently. She had long since pulled her hair down and let it blow in the salty wind.

She sighed and rested her head against Ethan’s shoulder. He smiled and leaned against her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

He knew that for the rest of his life, there would never be a moment as perfect as this one.

She exhaled lightly, and her eyes were closed. For a moment, he thought she was asleep. “Whitney?”

“Hmm?” she responded, drawing patterns on his chest.

“Are you going to sleep?”

She shook her head in the negative. “No,” she replied lazily. “I’m just closing my eyes…so I can memorize this moment.”

He felt his heart swell. God, what great deed did he do in a past life to meet this woman?

He suddenly cringed when a loud rush of bad music assaulted his eardrums.

It’s tearin up my heart when I’m with you
And when we are apart I feel it too…
And no matter what I do I feel the pain
With or without you!!


“What the hell??!” he turned, and saw a drunk stumbling through the famous NSYNC lyrics.

Baby I don’t understand
Just why we can’t be lovers
Things are getting out of hand
Trying too much, but baby we can’t win!

Whitney winced and turned, watching a drunk slur the words to the hit at the new Karaoke Bar across the street from the Seacliff.

“Karaoke?” she offered. She stood and stretched, then craned her neck for a better look. The singing was muffled, but the bad quality was plainly obvious all the way where they were.

Ethan groaned. Karaoke had to be the worst invention in history –

“Wanna go?”

He gaped. “Are you kidding?”

-0-0-

Fox had disappeared over twenty minutes ago, seeing a flash of leg that caught his interest and never looking back.

Not that Dylan particularly missed him. He was too busy listening to Simone spout nonsense. She talked about everything, from the Easter bunny, to her sister (“she acts like there is a broom up her ass…tragic.” Her words, not his) to Michael Jackson, to the Kool-Aid man. (“I am STILL convinced he is some kind of pedophile!”) She even did her own impression of his famous catchphrase (or love call, as she put it), nearly sending him into hysterics.

“Dylan…” she slurred, pronouncing the first syllable of his name like the late British Princess, “I’m having sooo much fun…are you?”

He snickered. “Yeah, I’m having fun, all right.”
She glanced at a clock, feeling dizzy. “Whoa…it’s like…twoteen o’clock.” She blinked. “No wonder I’m so damn tired.”

He gave her an incredulous look and glanced at the clock in question. He squinted at the clock, trying to figure out how she had come up with her time. “Oh, see, the minute hand is on the twelve,” he explained patiently. “It’s really two o’clock.”

She sat silently. “It’s late,” she said, with surprising clarity.

“Yes.”

“I should go home.”

“Probably.”

She stood on wobbly legs, and nearly collapsed backwards. He grabbed her to prevent her fall, and hoisted her up. “Oh Dylan,” she sung. “My hero!!!” she giggled. He dragged her out of the club and looked around.

“Where is your ride?”

She looked at him and blinked. “Huh?”

He gritted his teeth. “How did you get here?”

She shrugged and sat on the curb. “I don’t remember…?”

He groaned loudly. He looked around the parking lot. “Okay…where is Fox’s car?” He blinked when he realized that their previous parking spot was now vacant. “Damnit…” Fishing his cell out of his pocket, he called his friend. “Fox?!” he barked.

There was a groan on the other end. He could hear a girl giggling in the background. “I’m busy!” Fox replied shortly, promptly hanging up.

Dylan growled and shoved his cellphone back in his pocket. “Asshole,” he muttered. He sat next to Simone, who was animatedly watching a colony of ants in the crack of the sidewalk.

“Jessica brought me,” she piped.

“What?”

“Jess brought me,” she said thoughtfully, her words still slurred. “She’s gone now.” She leaned against Dylan, rubbing his arm. She looked as if she was going to cry.

Dylan rolled his eyes. “So we both have half-assed friends, huh?” Simone didn’t respond. He pulled her to her feet and held her steady. “So…we’re walking…and this sucks.” He looked around. “Which way is Whitney’s?”

She blinked slowly. It was getting on his last nerve. “Far,” she decided.

He groaned again. Judging from the distance between the Mansion and her apartment, walking to Fox’s would be an idiotic task to undertake.

He saw a police officer lounging down the street, smoking a cigarette. Telling Simone to sit and stay as if she were his pet, he dashed down the street.

“Hey,” he asked. The officer looked at him.

“Is there a problem?”
Dylan shrugged. “My friend’s, er…” he looked at Simone, who was laying on her side on the pavement. “sick.”

The officer looked at him over the rim of his sunglasses. “Does she need an ambulance?”

Dylan shook his head vigorously. “No, no. But she needs somewhere to crash – she lives pretty far away.”

The officer crossed his arms. “She looks drunk to me.”

Dylan shrugged with a nervous smile. “Well…that’s one way of seeing it.”

“Hm,” he said, putting out his cigarette. “There’s a B&B not far from here.” Pulling out his pat, he scribbled down a simple set of directions and handed it to the younger man.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

He dashed back to Simone, and stepped in puddle. Bracing himself, he looked down and his worst fears were realized.

“UGH!” His face contorted into an expression of disgust. He should’ve expected this – and looked where he stepped.

“I felt sick,” she feebly explained.

He forced a calm expression on his face, but his feelings were betrayed by his body’s angry shaking. He shook his head incredulously, his lips curled in a self-pitying smile. “Un-f*cking-believable.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “Unbelievable!” He laughed at his own situation, and pulled Simone to her feet.

Glancing at the sheet of paper, he started dragging Simone as well as possible towards the Bed and Breakfast as he purposely dragged his left foot across the pavement, trying to rid his shoes of her lunch and dinner.

This was going to be a long night.

-0-0-

Ethan sat mutely in the Japanese-style karaoke bar. He and Whitney were at a small table, enjoying the “performances” on stage.

In comparison, Whitney seemed to be having the time of her life, laughing and clapping at her favorites.

He had no problem sitting with her, and he was happy she was entertained, but the loud music, poor singing and bright lights were starting to grate on his nerves.

“Neaarr…faaar…wherever you are…I believe that the heart does go onnn….”

Ethan ground his teeth. “This is terrible…” he couldn’t help but mutter.

Whitney smiled and grabbed his hand. “Poor Ethan.” He flashed a reluctant grin at her. “I think it’s hilarious.”

He gave her a face. “Seeing people’s drunken singing?”

She shrugged. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound nearly as good!” she giggled.

Ethan eyed her seriously. “You could sing better than any of these people on your worst day, Whit.”

Whitney gazed at him. “Really?”

They aren’t hard to beat, he mused. “Yeah. You’re really, really good.” Amazing, even.

Her eyes glittered. Standing, she grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

“W-wait!” he stammered. “Where?”

“On stage!”

-0-0-

Navigating the sidewalks to get to the Bead and Breakfast proved to be a difficult task, to say the least.

Simone was staggering and nearly falling flat on her face every few feet, it seemed.

She was giggling and babbling about nothing in particular, but when he was heaving her body weight, it seemed far less funny.

Dropping her unceremoniously on the ground, he walked into a 24 hour pharmacy and returned a few minutes later with travel toothpaste, a small toothbrush and water. He tossed it at her, and she stared, bewildered.

“You barfed all over the place; brush your teeth.” Gingerly, she sat on the ground and brushed, spitting out the water in the street. “And drink that water, you’re probably dehydrated.”

She gulped down half, and staggered to her feet. “I don’t feel so well…”

Dylan backed up a few feet, his blue eyes wide. “Hell no.”

She squinted and swayed, and collapsed in a heap on the ground. She made a few mumbled curses and attempted getting back to her feet.

He grabbed a hold of her waist and nearly fell himself, making sure to lean to the side to compensate for her weight.

He probably looked ridiculous.

She was still incoherent, which was mildly irritating in itself.

Finally, he saw the B&B, and sighed in relief. Finally, he could get her heavy ass off of him! He was getting tired too!

Dragging her inside, he met up with a pair of eyes that were way more shocked than they had any right to be.


----

I'm dissappointed with myself. I promised the entire Whethan date, and this is a little more than a half. Don't worry, Ethan and Whitney have some interesting (read: humorously awkward) stuff going on in the near future, as well as Dylan and Simone. Stay tuned.