AN: I'm addicted to this story.  I don't know why.  Oh yeah, my new found Kevin 
fascination.  Oh well.  *shrugs*  No complaints, right? ;)

inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com    



******************* Curiosity Killed... Chapter Fourteen **********************



Okay, if I recall correctly, we've already had this confrontation scene today.  So why 
am I back pedaling like an idiot as Kevin the Vampire stalks me around our hotel room?  
I'm idiot.  That explains everything.

"Kevin..." I try to interject reasonably as he attempts to pounce on me.  I duck under 
his arms and roll, ignoring the pain in my thigh.  He's so much faster than I am, but 
in a desperate burst of speed, I manage to fly across the room and go to the only place 
I might get a respite from hormonal Godzilla.  

I crawl under the bed.  

"Catherine..."  I roll my eyes at his oh so reasonable tone and glare in the general 
direction of the face that appears at the edge.  "Don't make me crawl under there child, 
or I'll be most displeased."  

"You can't fit, moron, there's a reason I crawled under here."

I grin when I hear him grinding his teeth.  

"Come out Catherine.  There's nothing to be afraid of."  

"I'm not afraid!" I snap angrily.  

"You're lying," Kevin Richardson snaps back.  

It's my turn to count silently to ten.  "All right smarty pants..."

"Smarty pants?"  

I continue on my tirade, ignoring his disbelief at my apparent childishness, "Fine, 
dumb pants..."

"Dumb pants," he repeats faintly, sounding appalled and amused all at the same time.  

"That's right, Mr. Dumb Pants, I'm NOT afraid of you.  I'm...  I'm not going to sleep with 
you.  I can't.  Not tonight.  I...  Can you give me some space to breathe here?  If I 
don't handle this right I'm going to die, ya'll are going to die, and Dracula can be 
really unpleasant when he's in the mood to flay people alive.  I've been kidnapped and 
forced to wear a skirt and I'm hiding under a bed in a hotel that costs more per night 
than my rent for the month so I don't get laid by a Backstreet Boy.  And this is only 
my second night here.  I... just..."  To my horror I'm crying suddenly, huge, wet, 
crocodile tears as I gasp for air.  I'm not a pretty crier. 

I sort of realize when Kevin uses his superhuman strength to lift up the mattress and 
pick my up like the child he calls me but I'm too busy crying now.  The bed is moved 
hastily back into place but I don't have the strength to protest when he sets me 
carefully, oh so carefully on the edge.  

Large hands are wiping at my tears and offering tissues but I ignore it all in favor 
of wailing louder.  Kevin's worried face quickly grows frantic as all his attempts to 
stem my tears fail.  Finally he does what any man does when confronted with a 
hysterical woman, he holds me so tight I can't breathe in order to make me stop.  

I blink and hiccup, somewhat surprised to find myself in Kevin's arms.  I don't really 
remember being put in them, and I know I didn't crawl into them on my own violation, 
and yet, here I am, Kevin arms wrapped securely around me, my face buried in the soft 
black material of his wife beater.  Strong hands are rubbing small circles on my lower 
back and I feel, well, nice, comforted, safe.  

Its pretty much an illusion conjured by my desperate mind, but I'm okay with that.

"Felling better?" Kevin asks carefully as I look suspiciously up at him.  His eyes are 
the palest shade of green I've ever seen him and his usually fierce features are soft, 
though grave.  

"No," I mutter, petulantly.

He has the nerve to chuckle.  "You're feeling better if you're being a smart ass again."

My lower lip sticks out.  "Well at least I'm not Mr. Dumb Pants."

Kevin sighs loudly and I feel a fierce pang of satisfaction.  I've developed this sick 
need to annoy the hell out of him, don't ask me why.  "Come on, I think its time for bed."  
I tense, suddenly, realizing where I am, and he shakes his head, "No Catherine.  I 
promise... look at me child, I promise, I won't touch like that tonight.  I swear.  
I'll give you as much space as I can..."  

I study him for a long moment, head tilted, sable eyes frank, lips pursed.  "How much 
space is that?" I finally demand, testing his new resolve.  Kevin growls, a low rumble 
against the palm I have resting against his chest.  I snatch it away, affronted, and his 
lips murmur as he counts silently to himself.  

When he answers, warm hands cup my face so I can't look away from the jade of his eyes.  
I'm suddenly very, very grateful for Dracula's mind blocks.  Even with them, my stomach 
is doing flips.  "As much space as I can without endangering my brothers.  Now hush, go 
to bed, we'll continue this drama tomorrow."  

Wow, that sounds promising.  

Kevin lifts me up and settles me carefully down amidst the covers.  He jars me when he 
sets me down though and I hiss despite myself at the sudden pain in my thigh.  He frowns.  
"What's wrong?"  

"Its nothing, just, my wound hurts."  

Something too dark and unknown flashes across his face and he kneels beside me, a mountain 
of warmth and forbidden things.  I suck in a sharp breath as blunt fingers trace a line 
on my thigh where I was knifed two days ago by a disgruntled member of the undead.  "Let 
me see," Kevin commands and I start to protest, loudly, but he shushes me firmly.  "Let 
me see."  

I grumble, put out, but reach down and roll up the pants of my pajama bottoms.  The wound 
looks uglier than I remember, swollen and angry from the rough treatment I've given it.  
I watch Kevin carefully but he's doing an admirable job of controlling his Vampire urges.  
"This needs stitches..."

"No it doesn't."  

He flashes me an angry look and I bristle.  "Okay, I've been cut up enough to know when 
I need stitches.  It could use stitches but I'm not getting them.  It'll heal by itself."

"It'll scar."  

"It won't be my first," I snap stubbornly.  

Kevin grins faintly.  "All right.  At least let me put some medicine on it and we'll 
bandage it up, okay?"  

I watch as he slithers off the bed with the grace of a cat in order to go through his 
bags.  A smile twitches at the corner of my lips as he triumphantly pulls out a First 
Aid kit.  "You keep a First Aid kit in your luggage?" I ask, tickled by the thought.  

He snorts.  "You don't?"  

Okay, good point.  

I let him break out the antiseptic and bandages and manage not to squirm too much as he 
carefully treats and fixes up my wound.  "Why are you being so nice all of the sudden?  
I mean you're Kevin Richardson AND a Vampire.  Not exactly the recipe for Martha Stewart.  
Although Martha Stewart is kind of evil..."  

Kevin doesn't look up as his hands linger on my thigh.  I try not to think about that 
one too much and swallow.  "Have I really been so mean?"

"Yes," comes my prompt reply.  

"You try my patience," Kevin growls, hands tightening minutely.  

"You don't have any."  

I yip as he snaps the First Aid kit closed and sweeps me under the covers in one smooth 
motion.  "No more talking for tonight, or sassing, or any of the other things you do to 
get under my skin."  I blink when he taps me gently on my nose.  "Go to sleep."

"But..."

"Sleep."  His lips brush my brow and I frown darkly but that's all.  I squirm, trying 
to get comfortable as I listen to Kevin moving around, putting the First Aid kit 
meticulously away before turning off all the lights.  He slides into the bed with me and 
I tense again.  

"Have you eaten tonight?"

"Catherine, sleep for goodness sakes."  

"But..."

"Sleep."

And despite myself, I do.