He laughed! He laughed and laughed and laughed. He freaking laughed! Cherish stared indignantly into the principal's face. Well she would have if it wasn't on his desk, fist pounding the table to demonstrate just how funny he found the situation. How unoriginal, she thought.

Beside her, Seven balked at Mr. Stallman, "Sir, how exactly is this funny?"

She was thinking much the same thing but didn't voice her opinion, too shocked and angry to do so.

"Oh dear!" Mr. Stallman said as he finally settled down. "I told her she could use any means necessary, but I didn't realise she'd do this. She's a smart girl, your sister."

Cherish grunted, "Yeah, and that's why she lost the key?"

Mr. Stallman broke down into laughter again. At least there was one more thing the two of them could agree on. Mr. Stallman was an idiot.

"Listen, Sir, could you just get the janitor to cut them so we can get to class?"

The principal looked at Seven through the silver rimmed lenses on his face, one eyebrow awkwardly askance, "So you can go to class?"

Cherish bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at both Mr. Stallman's eyebrow and Seven's insinuation.

"Mr. Stallman, I need to get to class, and I'm sure as hell not taking him with me!"

He chuckled again, "Well, Miss McKinley, you will have to do exactly that. We have had one such situation before- don't ask- and I am in no way allowed to have the janitor cut those off. There are too many ways for you to get injured in the process. You two will have to wait till Arida finds the key."

Because they were sitting much too close together for her liking, Cherish could feel Seven tense up angrily. "So, what? We're just supposed to wait until that airhead finds the key? We don't have the same classes- we don't live in the same place, and if you haven't noticed, Mr. Stallman, I hate this bitch!"

She had never seen him lose his cool so many times in one day. She congratulated herself inwardly for having this effect on him. Mr. Stallman looked sufficiently irate at Seven's choice of words, but he simply said, "You two share a large amount of your classes. You can decide which of the others you want to attend. Now get out of my office!"

Cherish was given an insignificant second to get her bearings as Seven abruptly stood and stalked from the office. As she slammed the door behind her, she shrieked and took off in the direction of her English class.

"Uh. No, no, no... we're going to my Media class."

Cherish whirled around on him suddenly, "Right. Sure. Okay. Lead the way... NOT."

"So is this gonna be all your classes and none of mine."

"Isn't that the way it always is?"

He didn't argue. It was true- she went to all her classes while he picked and chose at random. He supposed he could give up a few classes he wouldn't have otherwise attended... But that was exactly the point- he wouldn't have otherwise attended, and now he had to. Grunting his less than willing reply, he stuffed one hand into his pocket and let Cherish drag him off to the English class she shared with Ian.

-.-

Thankfully the weather was getting cooler, cool enough to excuse her wearing a sweater all day long. She was beginning to bruise already and didn't quite feel like answering all those stupid 'how did that happen?' questions. Then again, she couldn't take her sweater off even if she wanted to. Partially, yes, but then it would hang from the wrist that was inconveniently attached to Seven's. As the snickers continued around her, Cherish sighed heavily and pulled her hood up over her head. She took her eyes off the question that was mocking her from the board- the one that was clearly a cop out on her teacher's part- and began scribbling a response to it.

How do I feel about this year's Spirit Week? How do I feel? Hmm... let's see... How about that's a fucking stupid question? How about fuck Spirit Week, fuck Ari, fuck the bloody King and Queen of the bloomin' Ball and fuck Seven!

Her paper rant was interrupted by the fact that Seven had leaned over her and tilted the book toward himself. She groaned, the spark in his eye told her this would end embarrassingly for her. He threw his arm over her shoulder, trapping her against him because her own arm looped around her body like a vice. "

Aww, that's sweet, Baby, maybe we can do that later," his tone was suggestive, cool, calm. "But, I don't think you can hand in that kind of language. I'm not so sure Mr. Dalaqua wants to know what you plan on doing to me..."

Cherish fumed as he trailed off, leaving it open to the class to interpret his words as they would. For the first time ever, Cherish found that she was truly angry at Ian, who laughed so hard at Seven's words that he was snorting. Though, she supposed if someone else were in this ituation, she would have laughed herself. But it was her, unwillingly stuck to Seven while he let the class, and thereby the school, think she harboured romantically indecent thoughts for him.

Three seconds was all it took for the situation to go from awfully uncomfortable to downright embarrassing. She wished desperately that this had happened in Mr. Hennessy's class, so she could have wittily spared with him to make the discomfort go away. But, no! This was Mr. Dalaqua's English class, and he lifted her notebook from her desk and read the words silently, his eyes widening as they skimmed over the page. As cool as he was for a teacher, Mr. Dalaqua was ridiculously unaware that he was confirming Seven's implication. He cleared his throat softly and smiled plainly at her, "He's right. I can't accept that."

The class erupted in snickers and murmurs, a few people who sat nearby craning their necks to get a look at the book. Seven grinned like a satisfied cat as Ian, curious, pulled the notebook to read it. Twisting herself out of Seven's grasp, Cherish reached for her bag.

Ian shot her an amused look, tossing the notebook back at her, "Wow. I can't believe you wrote that."

"What's so hard to believe?" Seven drawled. "I am quite irresistible, you know?"

With a grin that sweetly acquiesced with the both of them, she brought her massive History text down on Seven's head.

"Fuck!"

The room was quiet for a total of 20 full seconds before everyone returned to gossiping. From his desk, Mr. Dalaqua frowned at Cherish, shaking his head and gesturing to her notebook by way of reprimand. Seven, on the other hand, was cradling his head in his lap, muttering pained obscenities. He glared at Cherish, his face and eyes red, but didn't say another word. Glad for the silence, Cherish began rewriting her response; he wouldn't be quiet for long.

She realised after some time that it had gotten much too quiet for Mr. Dalaqua's class; he didn't mind noisy disruptions so long as work was completed. Covertly looking around, she found most of the class was watching Seven and herself. It was no secret that they despised one another since neither of them was shy about revealing it.

The interest with which their classmates watched, said that somehow Seven and she would be stuck in this thing the whole way. People would show interest, people would attend all the stupid events to see what they would do to each other. They hadn't disappointed so far, had they? She felt like a sideshow.

As if to prove her thoughts right, Seven's boot clad foot landed quite painfully on her hand. She couldn't even hold back the yelp she let out, it surprised her so much. She was even less successful in stopping the tears from springing to her eyes. Pressing her hand between her thighs she kept a careful amount of pressure on it. It felt broken, and God above did broken hurt! She bit her lip to keep from whimpering- tears were bad enough, she did not need to add pitiable little puppy dog sounds to that. After a few moments of blinking back tears, she ventured a look at her hand.

It lay crumpled in her lap, red and shaking, a result of Seven's heavy steel toed boots. Calmly, she gathered her things, carefully setting them into her bag, taking deep breaths the whole time to collect herself. Beside her, Seven was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, one hand tucked behind his head. Carefully pulling her bag onto her shoulder, she slowly placed her shaking hand into her pocket.

Leaning over, so her body brushed Seven's, she brought her lips to his ear, "You know what Seven? I'll forgive you this time."

He merely smiled at her proximity. Her face was so close to his neck, that she was stupidly furthering the implication he'd made earlier. With a calm air about her and an angry glare in her eyes she placed her mouth on the soft flesh at the curve of his neck and...

"HOLY HELL WOMAN!" Seven fumed, clapping a hand over his neck. Cherish smiled tightly as she turned and walked from the room, pulling the wincing boy behind her. "What the hell is wrong with you, Woman?" he hissed as he followed.

Turning, she flicked her eyes over his pained face and the hand still on his neck with a droll smile. "Oh nothing, Dearest," she practically sang out. With a particularly flirty swish of her hips, she pulled her arm forward and shoved him through the door to the nurse's office. She didn't seem fazed by the fact that three other students sat in the room. "Mrs. Birch, I have a bit of a problem."

The nurse looked up at her with a kind smile, "What is it, dear?"

"Well, I kind of got a little carried away and bit him a little too hard and I- well, I think he broke my hand."

She sucked the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth in mock embarrassment, her eyes wide in pretend humiliation. Seven wanted to laugh at how the students' and the nurse's eyes popped at the cute face she was pulling, but he didn't. Instead he glared at the kids who were furiously texting friends to let them know what Cherish had just said. Growling at them he flung Cherish viciously into a chair.

"Seven! That is really no way to be treating a woman," the nurse clucked nervously. With a shake of her head she examined Cherish's hand, and then wrapped the swollen appendage with gauze and a splint. "You should visit a clinic, Dear, to get this properly checked out." She offered Cherish a comforting smile and patted her knee lightly. Seven however was treated to a distasteful look, as she peered at the bite mark on his neck. Sighing, she dipped a cotton swab into some clear liquid and pressed it to his neck with no remorse.

"Argh!"

Cherish found herself slammed back against the wall, Seven's back pressing into her as he strained to get away from the nurse.

"Young man! That is not acceptable!"

-.-

"You did that on purpose, Bitch!" Seven's voice carried a pretty convincing tinge of hurt. Cherish picked herself up slowly, still holding onto the painting she'd been carrying before she'd stumbled to the floor. The overwhelming bewilderment passed quickly and she had to hold back a scathing glare at Seven. She had not done anything on purpose. That idiot had shoved her through the door, knowing she'd trip onto his already damaged painting.

Ms. Dalton looked up, her face upset when she saw his tortured painting in Cherish's hands. "Cherish! Why on earth would you do such a thing?"

When Cherish did not offer any sort of an answer Ms. Dalton, shook her head with a confused frown.  "I don't understand, Cherish. Why on Earth would you destroy his artwork like that? It shows an absolute lack of respect for him, your peers and this class!"

Seven smirked, he had successfully turned his own pain into Cherish's by turning Ms. Dalton on her. His smirk was wiped away by the wild rage-filled look on Cherish's face when she turned on him after handing the broken canvas to Ms. Dalton. He waited expectantly for some words, a punch, a slap even. Instead, she pulled her leg back and swung her foot at him with force.

There were no words for the excruciating pain he felt, not even cursing like a sailor could cover it. Damn it all to hell, he thought as he dropped to the floor clutching his groin. Where he had only succeeded in making her eyes glisten with water, she had actually made him cry. She didn't storm off and drag him painfully around as he thought she would have- as he had done to her. She stood patiently and waited till the worst of his pain passed, looking around the room for Ian.

"Ian, I need a drive to the emergency," her voice, though soft, came across loud as the class was shocked into silence.

Seven slowly dragged himself off the floor, his face still contorted with the pain searing his loins. He hobbled out of the room slowly, hissing with every move he made. Cherish didn't move her hand this time, as close as it was to what she'd just attacked. She frowned inwardly at herself; kicking him was the single most stupid thing she'd done. It was just that this day had taken its toll on her. She wanted out. Not to mention she had never been this angry at actual people before. She mouthed a real heartfelt sorry at Seven, knowing that he couldn't see it. It was as much as he'd get out of her.

Ian stepped out of the class a moment later, all their things in hand. "Alright, Dumb and Dumber, let's go."

-.-

It had been gloriously quiet since that afternoon's art class, but the two of them had eventually begun to argue again. Ian rolled his eyes, taking it upon himself to settle the issue, "You're both staying at Cherish's place! Ari called to say she explained it all to your father, and he wants you both at his place tonight."

"Or we can visit your stepfather and have him cut the chain," Seven grumbled.

"I like that idea! Hey look at that, something we agree on."

"That's great you two, but Manny's not in town, and the garage closes at 6:00 anyways."

Cherish grimaced as she glanced at the clock; 6:30 pm. They had spent nearly three hours waiting around at the emergency room. But, at least her hand wasn't broken; it was simply in need of some healing time, thanks to Seven. Ian turned into her driveway and hopped out of her car, offering her father a bright smile. Of course, Cherish groaned, of course her father would be waiting on the doorstep.

He took one look at her bandaged hand and frowned, "What happened there?"

"Was an accident, Dad, I'm not used to being this closely attached to someone."

He didn't say another word as he watched her pull the dark and dangerous looking boy into their home.

"Hi Rish. Hi Seven. I'm so sorry you guys. Really I am. Cherish, I made your favourite for dinner."

"Hope you like steak and grilled zucchini, Seven."

"I apologized, Rish, what more do you want me to do?"

Seven glanced at Ari as she whined, his face somewhat bored, "Unlock us, maybe?"

"I've been looking for the key all day!"

Shrugging, Seven sat beside Cherish at the table and examined the frilly place settings. "Well, I'm going to get the chain cut tomorrow morning."

"Um... you can't... I borrowed it from Sheldon Park. He's got this creepy obsession with stuff like that, it's made of some kind of metal that's almost impossible to cut through."

Cherish did not seem at all surprised, "Of course."

They ate in awkward silence, Cherish and Seven occasionally stabbing each other with forks when they accidentally-on-purpose missed their plates.

"So, this is how it works," Shannon McKinley said suddenly. The girls looked up at their father in anticipation, "You two are going to sleep on the pull out couch down here."

Cherish gaped at her father; What?

Wearing his best 'I'm-your-father-so-what-I-say-goes' expression, he glared at Seven and Cherish. "You'll have separate blankets and there'll be a wall of pillows between you. And that wall better still be there in the morning."

* Title song by The Long Tall Texans