A/N: Seems like there was a lot of Relient K in this batch. I still love writing these, even if no one else enjoys reading them. :)

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it.

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing- Jack Johnson

She told him she wouldn't. She told herself she wouldn't. She certainly didn't want to. And yet…

Here she was, months after Yusuke left, and Keiko was still waiting on the stupid prick, regardless of what she wanted otherwise. She kept telling herself she'd move on, find someone else, someone better, and yet…

She said "no" to another date invitation. He was a good guy to—smart, handsome, going places. Still, she turned him down. And for what? She was a sap, waiting for a disrespectful guy who may not come back at all. She was a fool. And yet…

She just couldn't help waiting.

Paralyzer- Finger Eleven

Atsuko looked across the bar at the man who was clearly oogling her. She checked him out: decent build, dark hair, white collared shirt. Nothing special, but not too bad either. She made a decision and turned a 100 Watt smile at the nervous man, who smiled nervously in return.

"You've still got it Atsuko," she said to herself with a partially-wasted smile. The man started walking toward her, and she took another swig of whiskey. She would chat, she would dance, she would let him buy her a few drinks, and then…

"Hi," the man said, with what was supposed to be a dashing smile. She grinned an ironic little smile in return.

…Then she would go back home, because her son deserved more than this.

Who I Am Hates Who I've Been- Relient K

Hiei stood with the human girl—Keiko, was it?—and waited for the spirit detective to return with the spirit items in exchange for his precious woman. Not that Hiei was really going to exchange anything, especially not a completely obedient servant, with the detective, but by the time the boy knew that he would be dying in a pool of his own blood.

The girl let out a little whimper, and in the midst of the demon's cold calculations he thought of his mother. An irrational thought crossed his mind: what would she think of him if she saw him right now? The uncomfortable musing was cut short by the creak of the warehouse doors. 'Ah never mind, the detective is here.'

The Song of the Count- the Sesame Street Count

Kurama had always had an affinity with numbers. Earlier, his numbers revolved around his heists. Later, they revolved around his mother. Now, they revolved around his friends.

Thirteen was the new number of times Yusuke could fire his spirit gun.

Eleven was the number of times Kuwabara had asked about Yukina's brother: it was also the number of times Hiei scowled and mumbled threats to Yusuke, who looked like he was relishing the knowledge and planning something dastardly.

Seven was the number of kimonos—practically identical, but distinguishable by Kurama's trained eye—that Botan owned.

Six was the number of times Hiei unleashed his inner demon.

Four was the number of cats Kuwabara now owned.

Three was the number of women Yusuke had loved in his life, although only one was a romantic love.

Two was the number of teardrop gems Hiei hoarded, (or at least it was until he gave one to Muroku.)

And Koenma had one single, all-important binky.

Oh yes, Kurama was excellent with numbers. However, somewhere along the way, he had lost count of the number of times his teammates surprised him.

Colllege Kids- Relient K

"What a drag!" Yusuke groaned. He thought he was pretty brave, popping the question to Keiko and all. But instead of being grateful, she just told him to get a degree, and then they'd talk! So here he was, a bag full of books and his uniform on, just like any good little college kid. Ahrg!

"I wonder how hard it would be to make a fake degree?"