A/N: First, a thanks to Misty-chan for the use of some of her ideas, if a little inverted. This is dedicated to her. Especially because it helped remind me what I had originally intended for this chapter. So. It might be a little shorter than usual, but, it's an actual chapter!

Disclaimer: Do I even need to put this anymore?

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May's POV:

"I'm not wearing this." Came the voice through the door, and it took all my willpower not to laugh.

Well, not to laugh loudly.

"Drew, I do believe that you don't have a choice." I pointed out. There were a few beats of silence before he groaned.

"Fine. But if you take any pictures, I swear to God I will fire you and systematically destroy everything you love."

"Okay." I conceded.

"Promise you don't have a camera." Drew ordered, which he had no right to do. Didn't he remember? He was my maid now. Ha.

"I promise I don't have a camera…"

The door swung open, and there stood Drew, dressed in the quintessential French maid's uniform, lacy apron and all.

"…but Gary does."

I had the decency to wait until after Drew had shut the door again to burst out laughing.

"I hope you know this is going on Facebook!"

Drew's POV:

"I hate you." I really, really did.

"No you don't, you love me." May responded from where she was sitting on my bed.

"No. I hate you. I hate you and everything you stand for." I said, glaring at the uniform she had made me wear. I was a little torn between going to therapy for the emotional scarring, burning the damned thing, and killing May. I was leaning towards doing all three.

"You don't hate me. You have too much unresolved sexual tension directed at me to hate me." May said confidently.

I made an indignant noise and was about to refute that when she cut me off. "Calm down, Grass Head, I was kidding. Now make me a coffee." May rolled her eyes and I tried (and failed) not to flush.

"I will not." I flicked my hair.

"Again, you don't have a choice."

"But-I-no." I refused. I wouldn't. I would not let her make a fool of me. I wouldn't let her-

"Drew, you know what happens when you break a dare, right?" May asked with a dangerous glint in her eye. I shuddered, remembering the last time I had broken one of her dares. You don't want to know what happened, but it involved taco sauce, two bottles of nail polish, a lemur, twelve cacti, a Rubix Cube, a seedless watermelon, and an off-Broadway production of Wicked. It wasn't pretty (I burned all the photos, but something tells me May still has some copies of them).

"…yes."

"Then make me some coffee."

"How do you want it?" May smirked at that and it didn't really help the blush at all. Since when do I blush, anyways? God, I hated her. So, so much.

"Didn't Sonya leave a recipe book?" May asked in an are-you-stupid tone of voice.

"Oh. Right."

I turned on my heel and walked out the room, towards the kitchen, and probably towards some sort of coffee-related demise.

"Fuck!" It was barely audible because I was already down the first flight of steps, but it sounded like May. I ignored the part of me that urged to go check on her and see what was wrong and instead focused on the part of me that laughed at her irritation.

May's POV:

Well, I'm screwed.

I figured I should probably just accept my death gracefully, so I didn't stop him.

Drew's POV:

Inside the giant labyrinth that was my kitchen, it took me five minutes to find what I was looking for: a little, worn book that had Sonya's name on it.

I started flipping through it and noticed that Sonya really didn't like me. Good thing I fired her.

"Ah. Here it is." I started reading through the directions.

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"Wait a second."

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"Surely she didn't mean…"

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"I'm going to murder her."

May's POV:

So by 'gracefully', I actually meant I was going to hide under his bed and hope he doesn't find me.

"MAY!"

I obviously didn't say anything.

"May, I know you're under my bed. Get out or you're going to make it a lot worse on yourself."

I obliged, because he sounded really scary. And usually, I'm badass and tough-as-nails, but Drew can be very intimidating when need be.

One look at him erased any shred of doubt I had that he wasn't that angry.

I had seen him twenty million different shades of indifferent, all of them equally frustrating, but never had I seen him this angry.

"Fuck." I muttered.

Drew walked towards me menacingly. For every step forward, I took one back.

"May." He had a wicked, joyless smile on his face.

"Drew?" I said nervously, the inflation making it sound like a question. I was finally out of places to go, trapped between an advancing Drew and a bed. Briefly, I considered jumping over the bed and running out of the room, but Drew was faster than me and I didn't really want to get chased.

He kept advancing. "May. Did you put laxatives in my coffee? Because if you did, you made a very, very big mistake."

"Sorry?" I squeaked.

"You will be." He laughed mirthlessly. He had come to a stop when he reached me, looming over me threateningly, chest pressed to mine.

It was stupid, the man was almost homicidal, seriously, but I blushed. Then he seemed to realize that we were, in fact, almost pressed against each other, because something in the air changed a little.

"I already am." I murmured.

"Maybe you can make it up to me." And we were probably too close, way too close, and definitely not close enough.

"How would I do that?" I swallowed hard, trying not to let my voice shake.

Drew didn't answer, at least not with words. He snaked a hand up to my hair and tilted my head back. He leaned in a little closer, and I could feel breath on my lips. I could feel my heart pounding, and I could feel his beating out a similar cadence from where we were connected. I looked at his lips, curled up into that familiar smirk, but he was too close and I went cross-eyed.

"Oh." It was more like a breath than an actual noise, but it seemed to register. Drew moved forward a little more, and if I so much as moved we'd be kissing.

Rrrrring! Rrrrring!

Drew's POV:

We sprang apart at the sound of the phone ringing. I leaned over and picked up the cordless phone that was resting on my bedside table.

"Hello?" I made an effort not to sound to breathless.

"Andrew? Is that you?" A feminine voice filtered through the receiver.

"Yes mother."

"How have things been?" She sounded a little worried, which was sweet if unnecessary.

"Good. How has your trip been?" I asked, willing myself to calm down.

"Marvelous. I do so love Sinnoh this time of year."

"That's good."

"But it seems we're going to have to cut our trip short; your father got into a bit of a grapple with a wild Shinx and well. He got a little electrocuted. We'll be back in a few days."

"Oh. Well I hope he feels better." I said. It wasn't strange for my dad to piss of local Pokemon. My dad has a confrontational, superior nature that most living things tend to hate. Pokemon included.

"How's the new maid?" She asked.

"Huh?" I asked, before I remembered that May was, in fact, my maid. "Oh! Uh. Fine. Erm. Great. Really great." I coughed and laughed, flustered.

The rest of the conversation passed in a meaningless blur before my mom said she had to go make sure dad hadn't hurt himself further.

"But before I go, why are there pictures of you dressed like a girl on Facebook?"

"I-what?" I almost wanted to kill May, but my skin was still thrumming a little from earlier. Besides, when I turned around, May wasn't there anymore.

"Bye honey."

"Bye mom."

A/N: Hope it's okay, I know they're usually longer. Sorry.

Comment, tell me it sucks, tell me I have no business writing, etc. Also, happy belated birthday to this fic!

Also, almost!kiss. Yay? Drew's mom is such a cockblocker, for realz.

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