AN: This first part takes place in the middle of the first season, no specific part really.

Enjoy!

"I don't believe this!"

"That you can't work a simple washing machine?" Myka stood next to Pete in the laundry room, folding her pajama bottoms as he struggled with the dial on the machine.

"Very funny. No, I cannot believe that you've never been to Disney World."

"What's wrong with never going to Disney World?" She perched her hand on one hip, the warm T-shirts in the drier forgotten now. Pete gaped at the woman before him, waving his hands frantically as if this would help prove his point. Myka found it quite entertaining.

"That's practically a curse against your childhood."

"What's part of 'I lived with an anti-fun Nazi' don't you understand?" She noticed he was leaning in closer to the dial, squinting his eyes to read the faded numbering. How on earth did he ever live by himself? The man couldn't turn a simple washing machine on. Temptation to show him how to work it filled her soft side, but the other side cackled in delight as Pete failed again. Sometimes Myka thought she was the owner of split personalities, but she could choose which one to show physically. It was a pain to keep in check, but at least it was better than having no control at all, though.

"But still, it's-"

"Disney World. I know," Myka glanced over at him knowingly and he swallowed whatever exclamation that was still awaiting verbalization. "It's not that big of a deal, anyway. What makes a giant castle and a life-size furry mascot so awe-inspiring and wondrous, anyway?"

"It's Disney World!" Her wrists flicked the shirt a bit sharper than she normally would have, gaining Pete's attention- for the moment.

"Can we please drop this? We already had this argument-"

"-I'm not arguing with you, I'm just-"

"-And I need to go finish my-"

"-Work can wait, we've been working-"

"-Report and-"

"-How the fuck do you turn this thing on?!" Her partner finally burst out and slammed the palms of his hands against the metal lid. She actually found herself amazed such a thing would come out of his mouth. After all, this was hug-and-kisses-and-cookies Pete Lattimer we were talking about. Although, she'd only experienced two out of those three. The little voice in her head told her she wanted all three, but she declined this. Sometimes. "Oh, sorry, Myka, I didn't mean for-"

"Pete?"

"Yeah?" He muttered half-heartedly. A discouraged Pete wasn't Myka's favorite thing to see. Even though she found him incredibly bothersome when he was cheery and energetic, she would always prefer that over… this. Her hand reached out, slamming the knob in before twisting it to what used to say "large load" and now read "rg oa" from old age. Figures the Bed and Breakfast wouldn't have upgraded appliances.

"Make sure to separate your tighty-whities from your slacks."

"Hey! I do not wear-" Well, there went her attempt at humor. She knew she should leave the jokes and sarcastic comments to her partner.

"Pete?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget the detergent."

"Michael was running as fast as he could, racing down thickly congested streets towards New York Hospital- Jane was dying there- when suddenly-" A loud thumping sound awoke her from the reverie that was her book.

"And I was just getting to the good part," Myka muttered, frustrated, as she stuffed her bookmark between the pages and set the book aside. Without skipping a beat, Pete appeared in the doorway of the living room, his features enhanced by the light of the fire. Myka felt the breath hitch in her throat. For one, Pete was shirtless. For two, a pair of jeans lay limp in his hand, dripping water onto the hardwood floors.

"What did you do?"

"The machine decided to hate me today." Myka rose from her position on the couch to meet him, ripping the jeans out of his grasp.

"Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?"

"The only loathing I'm sensing is coming from you," He joked but knew by the look on her face to just step out of the way and let her lead. A picture of a German shepherd charging head-first at him popped into his mind, but he quickly pushed it away before he started chuckling. Laughing when Myka was in this state of mind wasn't the best idea.

He stood to the side, watching as she fiddled with the appliance.

"There. Fixed." She stated, turning on her heel to finish her book, which Pete had rudely interrupted, even though she had just started it, but still, the fact remained that-

"Can you toss these in?" She blew out a breath, eyeing him suspiciously. Did he want to be chewed out? Myka knew she could definitely dish it out, especially right now. However, she obliged and soon she was helping Peter Lattimer filling the washer with his clothes. Luckily, no reeking boxers or malodorous socks found their way into her hands. He tossed her a pair of jeans, which she turned inside-out to prevent the denim from fading, and prepared to dump them into the laundry soup until Pete called from the other side of the laundry room.

"Wait! Check the pockets. I think I left something in there." Her hand dug into the denim depths, fingers wiggling and searching for specific objects. She hoped to God he hadn't put any disgusting items in there as a joke- a list of such things ran across her mind. Condoms, rotten food-

"Tickets to Disney World?" Okay, definitely not what she had been expecting. Pete smiled sheepishly. The half-empty laundry basket remained the only thing between them, now. Myka felt something burst inside of her, and this time, she was positive it wasn't another nerve or a blood vessel. Perhaps it was her heart, something she hadn't felt react like this in quite a long time.

"If you don't want to go, I understand. I just wanted to take you on Space Mountain and-"

"Pete?"

"Myka?" She crossed the tiny room and wrapped her arms around him, the tickets still in her hand. He grinned widely, eager to start planning the trip, even though their hectic schedules probably wouldn't allow them to visit the theme park for another good month or so.

"Thank you." With that, she ran the pads of her fingers over the face of the tickets and exited the room. "Oh, Pete?" He turned from the machine to see her head poking around the side of the doorway.

"Hmm?"

"Don't forget the detergent."

AN: Bonus points if you find out what book I quoted. I just pulled one randomly from my bookshelf, but still. You'll be giving a healthy donation to your subconscious with the knowledge that I'm sure is eating you up. Who doesn't want that?!

Anyway, I'm still struggling with these two. Myka is rigid and I want her to be a bit softer when I write her, but then Pete is a free spirit, at the same time being serious. Argh. It's a love/hate relationship with these characters. Ha, ha. Who can't wait for the second season?

There will be a sequel to this.