(A/N: I set out to write a new chapter of Beauty and the Dorito tonight, and this happened instead.  One of these days I'll actually write the thing I sat down to write, but TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY.  Don't ask why I'm publishing stuff in the middle of the night, but here's this request from xxbipperxx6551! Specifically, I was asked to describe what Bill and Y/N got up to while Will was on his date.)

(Y/N POV)

"Have fun, you crazy kids!" Bill shouted. Will slammed the door on him.

"Was that really necessary?" you asked Bill, rolling your eyes.

"Yes."

You laughed. "Whatever you say."

You sat back down at the table and started to put the cards away.

"You don't want to go back to our game?" Bill asked innocently.

"What's the point? I haven't won a single hand all day."

"All the more reason to keep going!" Bill cajoled. "You might get lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you said pointedly.

You felt Bill's arms wrap around you from behind, his chin resting on your head. "Aww, don't be like that," he muttered into your ear. "We've got the whole evening to ourselves, you know. We can do whatever you want."

"About that," you said, turning in your chair to face him. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About how you'd rather spend time with me than go on dates with anyone else?"

"Of course I did," he said with a straight face. "You know you're my whole world, Y/N."

You laughed. "I'll never understand how you can say such sappy things without cracking up."

"Same way I'm so good at poker," he smirked. "Centuries of practice. The award for 'best fake romantic confession' goes to me every time."

Your smile dropped. "So you've made fake romantic speeches to people in the past?"

He didn't catch your sudden discomfort. "All the time, actually. You'd be surprised how easy love-starved humans are to manipulate. All it takes is a push of the right buttons."

You felt slightly nauseous. "Bill... If you're as good at lying as you claim you are... then how can I ever know if you're telling the truth to me?"

He was silent for a moment. "I guess you're just going to have to trust me."

Your smile returned, but it was a weak echo of what it had been a moment ago. "I'll... try."

You felt Bill walk away. "We can practice if you want," he said. "For example, you can trust that I'm about to mop the floor with you in a Nerf war."

"In a what?" you barely had time to ask before a foam projectile hit you in the back of the head.

"Ow!" you cried, ducking too late. "Where did you even get that?"

A second gun landed on the table, making you jump. "En garde, milady!" Bill challenged.

"Oh, you are going to get it," you growled, snatching up the gun and ducking behind your chair to avoid his next shots, which sailed over your head.

You responded with a salvo of darts that forced him to duck behind the doorway to the living room. Taking advantage of his obstructed view, you leaped out from behind the chair and sprinted to the door, shooting him in the face at point-blank range when he leaned around the door frame.

"Argh!" he shouted, throwing himself backwards in a somersault, knocking over a lamp, and coming up on his knees to return fire. You flung yourself over the back of the couch to dodge, then cursed as Bill sprinted out of the room instead of attacking as you'd expected.

You took advantage of the opportunity to collect a handful of ammunition off the floor and reload your gun.  Stepping as quietly as you could, you sneaked around the corner and prowled down the hall, hunting your prey.

"Yaaaah!" Bill shouted, leaping from behind a door and hitting you with a full-body tackle.  You dropped your gun, flailing and cursing as you both crashed to the ground.

"Bill," you grunted, trying to push him off of you.  "I'm pretty sure this is against the rules of a Nerf war."

"I don't recall agreeing to any such rules," he argued.  "Wait, you've got something on your face."

"Wha-mmph!"  You made a startled noise, but otherwise didn't protest until he broke away from the kiss.

"Me," he finished with a smug grin.

You finally succeeded in shoving him off of you and sitting up.  "Okay,  that was quite possibly the worst pickup line ever spoken since the dawn of time," you scolded.  "And I'm definitely sure that was against the rules of a Nerf war."

"I guess I lose, then."  He didn't seem at all disappointed.

You slowly climbed to your feet, feeling the bruises that would show up tomorrow.  "Hooray, I finally beat you at something," you groaned as you stretched your back.  "Anyway, what do you want for dinner?  It's just us chickens, so we could go out or I could whip something up."

"Why don't you let me make you dinner?" Bill suggested as he stood, brushing off his clothes.

"I seem to recall several incidents that provide strong reasons against that course of action," you said flatly.

"Oh, come on, let me give it a shot," he insisted.  "I promise I won't set anything on fire."

"You've said those exact words to me at least twice this month already, and remember what happened?  We're already on probation with the fire marshals."

He sucked in a breath and held it for a moment.  "How about this?  I'll cook something pre-made, and I'll only use the microwave. Is that safe enough for you?"

"Why are you suddenly so interested in cooking?" you asked, leaning against the wall.  "It's not like I can't make dinner."

Bill gave you a fake pout.  "I want to do something nice for you," he said sincerely.

What is with his sudden lovey-dovey attitude? you wondered.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Will's on a date... could it be that he wants to know what that's like?  Or maybe he wants to keep me from feeling lonely while Will's gone?  It's true that the three of us are almost never apart...

Bill was still waiting for an answer.  You finally nodded.  "You know what?  Go nuts."

He cackled and rubbed his hands together.  "Go wait in the living room.  I want it to be a surprise."

You rolled your eyes, but obediently sat on the couch and surfed Netflix while you tried not to listen to the crashing noises from the kitchen.  How does he make that much of a racket by only using the microwave?!

Finally Bill joined you in the living room, handing you a bowl filled with noodles and vegetables.  It actually looked edible, and you raised an appreciative eyebrow.

"I cooked these separately and then mixed them together," he explained.

"I see.  Thank you, Bill.  It looks delicious."

It could have been your imagination, but he might have blushed slightly.  You scooted over so he could sit next to you on the couch while you ate your dinner together.  It didn't exactly fit the stereotype of a romantic evening, but you couldn't imagine anything feeling more comfortable.  Whatever Bill's motives for wanting to make your night memorable, his efforts warmed your heart.

Once you were done eating, you abandoned your dishes in the sink to "soak," and went back to watching TV.  Your goal was to stay up until Will got home so you could interrogate him about his date, but as the night wore on and there was still no sign of him, you felt your eyes grow heavier.

"I hope he's alright," you muttered, stifling a yawn.

"I'm sure he's fine," Bill said, grabbing your hand reassuringly.  "He can take care of himself, you know."

You reached for the remote, turning off the TV before nestling your head into his shoulder.  "They grow up so fast," you whispered.  He laughed softly.

You felt him turn slightly to kiss your forehead, and smiled.  You wanted to capture this peaceful moment and live in it together.

There was only one thought in your head as you drifted off.

I hope we can stay like this forever...