Antics

Thump

*Eurgh. My head.*

Thump Thump

*Make it stop*

Thump

*Wait... is that an...*

"Eurgh!" you moaned aloud. *Who is it this time?* You removed the arm from around your waste and scooted to the other side of the bed.

The other person groanded as you tried to make out who it was in the little amount of light.

"What... Christina?" he asked.

"Ol... Oliver. Did we..."

"Mhm. I think so. After the..."

"Ball. Oh. Those martinis!" you moaned.

"So... was I any good?" he asked after a few seconds of silence, smirking.

"Oliver! Do you understand the situation. The position we're in--"

"Think more about the position we were in last night." he said, putting his arm back around you and kissing you on the cheek.

"Stop it," you said sitting up. Realizing that was a bad idea once the covers fell down, you slunked back down.

"What?" he asked, standing up. "You want any breakfast?"

Figuring it was going to take a while to explain the situation, you replied "Sure."

Oliver was a suprisingly good chef.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Mhm" you said, mouth full of pancakes.

You swallowed. "So, we have to agree not to tell anyone."

"You're right. This would be pretty bad on the team."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want the team to know how unsatisfactory their captain is." you said with a smirk, knowing it was untrue.

"Oh, please. You were screaming my name last night." You vaguely remembered doing so, actually.

"Wait... Oliver... is that the time?" you asked.

"Yeah... that's why it's on my clock." he said, stating the obvious.

"Oh crap. I have work in like... now!" you said.

You ran over to his room, wearing his boxers. You grabbed your wand and magic'd your clothes on you. Running around, trying to get your things together, you sent them back to your house.

You ran out into the kitchen and kissed Oliver on the cheek, goodbye.

"Remember, don't tell anyone, okay?" you said.

"Yeah, yeah." he said, reassuringly.

"APPLEGATE! You are late. Now... get to work... immediately!" your boss yelled.

"I know, I know, I had this quidditch ball last night and..."

"Enough with your excuses. Work. Table three is waiting."

Sheesh. the place was practically empty. Don't know what he's complaining about.

"Hi! I'm Chris, I'll be your server today, what can I start you off with?"

"I'll have some orange juice, and, James, honey, what do you want?" the 30-something year old woman asked.

"Mmm... chocolate milk!" he said.

"Okay, I'll be right back with that."

You returned with their drinks.

"You guys ready to order?"

"Yes. I'll have two eggs, sunny side up, with a slice of toast, and a fruit side. He'll have the chocolate chip pancakes, please."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"No, that'll be it."

"No problem. I'll go put in your order."

You put it in and walked by the hostess table.

"Table 4. Loner. Demanded to be sat in your section."

"Thanks Lewis." you said. He was the morning host.

"Hi! My name is Chris, I'll be your... Oliver. What're you doing here?"

"That's no way to treat a customer."

"Look, are you just coming here to taunt me?"

"No! I'm hungry!"

"I ate breakfast with you like, twenty minutes ago!" you said.

"Well... I'll take a tall glass of orange juice, and plate of bacon. With a side of toast. Ooh, and some hash browns."

"Coming right up fat-ass." you said, after jotting it all down.

You delivered the food to Oliver, finally. When you were walking away, he decided to slap your butt and say "Thanks babe."

You turned and glared.

"Excuse me!" table three called out, "Check?"

"Oh, have it right here with me."

"Oh, and my son would like to ask you a question." the lady said, nudging him.

"Are you... Christina Applegate?"

"Yes, why?"

"The Bats are my favorite team. Can I have your autograph?"

This was your first public recognition ever. "Sure." you said, a little flabberghasted. "What's your name?"

"James." he said, pulling a red "Ballycastle Bats" hat from his bag.

You wrote, 'Hey James! Stay cool!' and signed it. "Okay, James." you capped the silver marker, "here you go."

"Thanks!" he said, his face lighting up.

"Thank you so much!" the mother said.

You turned to the boy. "See that man over there?" you pointed to Oliver's back.

The little boy nodded.

"That's Oliver Wood." you stated. His eyes grew wide. "Come on, you want me to introduce you?" He nodded.

"Oliver, adoring fan here." he turned around.

"What?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

"This little boy wants to know if he can have your autograph." you stated.

"Oh... sure." he said, not really expecting that.

You were pretty sure that made the boys day. He walked out with the biggest grin on his face.

"That was really nice of you." Oliver said. "bringing that boy over."

You sat down across from him. The place was empty. 'Cept for the workers and Oliver.

"Oh, thanks." you said.

"So, when do you get off?"

"An hour. I only work two hours today. I'm only filling in for someone."

"Oh. So... you want to go out with me after this?"

"Oliver... Wood... we have to keep this low profile. Like, so low it never happened. Negative, even."

"I know... no one will see us."

"I have another table." you said, seeing someone walking in.

You went and served them, and Oliver stayed put until your shift ended.

"So... where are you going now?" Oliver asked.

"Back to my appartment. I need to shower." you said.

"Okay. I'll go with you. To make sure nothing eats you on the way there or anything."

You sighed.

"So... can I join you?" he asked, stepping into your appartment.

"Obviously you already did."

"No," he pushed you over to the couch, "In the shower."

You pushed him off. "Wood, go back home!"

You showered. You wrapped a towel around your wet body and stepped outside. You were walking to your room when you heard a whistle.

"Looking good, Applegate!" he called.

"Oliver! I thought I told you to go home!" you practically screamed.

"...But it's boring there. I like it better here with you."

"Eurgh! Hold on!" you quickly changed and magicly dried your hair.

You walked back out and sat next to him on the couch.

"What do we do now?"

"I have a suggestion." he said.

"So do I. Wanna help me work my TV?" you asked.

"Your what?"

"My TV! It came free with this muggle appartment. I can't figure out how to turn it on. I've tried everything."

"How about pressing these little buttons?" he asked.

"... are you sure?"

"I think so..." he pressed one. The TV staticked a little, and a little picture came up, with sound.

"Wow... press another one!" you said.

He did. This time the picture changed.

"and another!"

He held this one down, and it got really loud.

"AH! PRESS DOWN THE ONE NEXT TO IT! WITH THE MINUS SIGN!" you yelled. He did as you told him to and it got quieter. You two sat down and watched the moving picture.

"Why didn't they just use a frame? Why this huge box?" Oliver asked.

"Maybe it's the sound." you figured.

We were watching a quaint little moving picture with sound, 'movie' they called it. It was about a skeleton and a little sewn up girl. It wasn't real people. The story ine was wierd. Randomly through out the 'movie' people would come in and talk about 'car assurance' and 'denny's'. Strange creatures, muggles.

Another lady came up on the TV talking about IHOP. What did pancakes have to do with the story? Well, apparently, Oliver was bored.

And apparently, when Oliver gets bored, he likes to maul peoples necks.

And apparently, when I'm bored, I don't like my neck mauled.

...

I don't, however, mind much about my lips.

Apparently.

"Wait, the girl is back!" I said, pointing at the screen.

"But... I'm more interesting!" he cried out.

"Well... keep going if you'd like, I'm going to watch this before those wierd people interrupt the story again."

He kept kissing your neck. It actually felt really good.

He made his way up to your ears. "Oliver," you said. "Stop, it tickles." he kept doing it.

Finally, you drew your attention away from the movie, and back to him.