Disclaimer: The one the only. I do not own them, I do not own it, I do not own us. The one the only. Deal with it.

A/N: Alright, I so blame my Health teacher and textbook for this. Not that he'll ever read this- glory, I hope not at least.

The idea came, the muses grabbed. My friends they read it, the thoughts they nabbed. It wouldn't leave, so I gave it its due. And now I'm posting it here, for you.

Here's a weird thing, I'm going to respectfully request that readers wait to review until after they've finished the fic. Thanks in advance for this inconvenience.

Dere she goes 'gain, callin' us muses.

Downroight insultin' if ya ask me, luv. As if she actually does all tha work.

Ah, but dat's de brilliance of it, Ashy, no one was askin' y'.

You're cruel, luv.

Didn' Indy say somet'in' t' y' 'bout callin' her dat?


He was doing it again. He was doing that- that thing he did. Yeah. You know, that thing where all the oxygen in the room seemed to congregate around him. He wasn't even looking at her, but the effect he had on her appeared to continue to make itself known.

And then he glanced her way and smiled slightly, just briefly, as if he was assuring himself that she was still there.

And her respiratory system began malfunctioning. Her lungs seized up, and her air passages simply stopped working. His next glance in her direction gave her a glimpse of his brilliant red eyes, and in penance for its temporary strike, her roller-coaster of a respiratory system went into overdrive. She started breathing harder, faster. The air seemed too thick for her nasal passages, so she opened her mouth slightly to gulp in the oxygen that still seemed to be trying to slip away from her and draw towards him.

His eyes were amused, almost as if he knew what was going through her mind. She hoped so. Hoped he knew what he was putting her through. Hoped he felt bad about it too.

She hadn't noticed him ending his conversation. Hadn't seen him slip away. Now, she searched the room, her emerald eyes darting over the dancing couples, the party decorations, and the shadows- especially those.

She didn't hear him step up behind her. She didn't hear his stifled chuckle. She did hear his voice, richly accented and exquisitely sultry as he asked, "Lookin' fo' me, chere?"

She began hyperventilating.

A/N: My friend Angel read this, loved it- she actually read the whole fic. Shortstuff and Issy, my other two readers of this chapter, thought she was scared of him. Kids.

One A/N for first chapter, one for the last. That's how this is gonna go. 'Kay?