A/N: Just a little idea I had the other day. Not really anything serious.


He was never an easy one to catch – but that isn't to say she didn't try.

And of course she did. They were like a cat and a mouse, - or sometimes, more like a dog chasing it's own tail. She was the cat, and he the small, tricky little mouse. It was fun. Frustrating, but fun.

He was the weird one, meaning that he wasn't a football playing or a cheerleader. Leather and freaky hair and spikes. She'd liked him for since they were fairly young, though then she hadn't been brave enough to say anything, because weren't guys supposed to make the first move?

Well. That was what she had always assumed. Apparently he knew nothing about men.

He got a girlfriend, another weird one, someone like him. She listened to rap-metal and watched wrestling. Personally, she thought the girl was a bit of a bitch, but it wasn't her place to judge.

And she didn't give up. And so around and around they went, both of them wanting – but not necessarily knowing what they wanted – and hoping and wishing for things they didn't understand. Weirdly enough, it reminded him of when they were little kids – pulling on her pigtails and running away yelling 'cooties!' when she actually wanted to play with him. Why did little boys do that? Why provoke them by running?

Maybe, just maybe, because they want to be caught.

"Leave me the hell alone,"He finally yelled at her. He thought – no, pretended - he didn't like the chase.

"I've got a girlfriend, okay? I don't like you."

"Not yet."

Around and around and around, until finally, one day, she got tired of chasing him.

And on that day he wished desperately that he had let her catch him.