Uh . . . hi. *Nervous laugh*

Please don't kill me for not updating/posting something new! I'm sorry! Very, very, very, very sorry! And ashamed. Totally. Mhmm. Yep. Hehe. Don't kill me!

Okay, now that that's out of the way . . .

I've decided to begin one of those epic one-hundred one-shot challenges that not very many people finish. I sort of doubt I will finish it, but there's no harm in trying, right?

I have 100 different prompts (all from one of my friends — THANKS CHERRY! :D) that I'll be using, in whatever order I decide. There aren't really any rules, just that it has to include both AC and AW, and have them interact in some way. ;)

Oh, and a super-humongous thank-you to:

BJXCBFOREVER - For the two reviews and favourites.

invadermay123 - For the favourite.

Fluff Monster - For the review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except the whole 'Magical Sapphire' idea. XD

LET THE CHALLENGE BEGIN!

1. Trust (Prompt 003)

It's times like these that he wonders why she trusts him so much. These times when she snuggles into him, emitting soft little sounds that make his heart — however dark — swell with affection. Why does she do it? She shouldn't trust him at all.

He's a lying, cheating scoundrel who will stab his own friends in the back just to prove them wrong. So why in the bloody blue blazes does she trust him to not do the same to her?

He tells himself that it is because she is naïve, an idiot and doesn't know any better, but deep down, in that little place everyone has whether they deny it or not, he knows why.

It's because she loves him.

As simplistic of an answer as it is, (and so very cliché) it is the truth. She trusts him because she loves him, and knows he loves her back.

Her soft, accented voice pulls him from his musings. "Night, Cozzie." She nuzzles her face into his chest, just brushing his ribcage, and he flinches, as he's always been ticklish there. She giggles slightly, — a decidedly scrumptious sound — but stops to alleviate his discomfort, however slight.

"Goodnight, love." He responds with a ghost of a smile, snaking one arm behind her back and the other resting behind her head.

Within seconds, — as she can fall asleep faster than anyone he's ever known — her breathing has slowed, and her chest rises and falls evenly.

For a moment, he just lays there, breathing in her sweet, warm scent. Then the curiosity comes racing back. With it, is another emotion. One he hasn't felt in a very, very long time. Dread.

What if he messes up, does something to make her distrust him? Would she hate him? Avoid him? Move out?

No, he tells himself. She'd have nowhere to move to. Except maybe Anti-Mama Cosma's. That annoying woman.

Besides, he would never do anything to betray her trust. It means more to him than just about anything.

Unless it was accidental

But that won't happen, because he's the smartest anti-fairy to ever be born, and he just doesn't make mistakes. Smart people never make mistakes. Especially not big, trust-breaking ones.

Do they?

No, he scolds himself. You're smarter than that. You would never hurt her. And he closes his eyes, slightly comforted by that knowledge. He drifts into sleep, (though feeling slightly unnerved) having the usual blissful nightmares about ruling Fairy World, and inheriting godchildren.

Of course, when you begin to doubt yourself, the doubts never really go away. They just stick in the back of your head, popping up when you need them least. This happens to Anti-Cosmo often after that night, and he tries to keep Anti-Wanda in arms reach at all times (or at least 78% of the time).

Whenever Timmy Turner decides to rear his egotistical head, he keeps her closer. Way closer. As in, I'm-pretending-you're-a-highly-radioactive-material-and-you-can-explode-at-any-second-if-I-turn-my-back-on-you closer.

Needless to say, she doesn't mind. She doesn't really understand it, but she doesn't mind. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Despite all of his genius efforts, the brat is able to ensnare his wife in a really unfair trap. Really, how is he supposed to defend against fifteen butterfly net-wielding ninjas while still making sure his wife doesn't get caught? The ninjas aren't that hard to beat, but when you factor in the fact that Anti-Wanda really isn't that much smarter than Cosmo, it just makes the whole issue a lot more . . . oh, crumpets.

Timothy Turner holds up the butterfly net, grinning from ear to ear. Inside is a pouting Anti-Wanda. Anti-Cosmo grimaces reflexively, but then plasters a bored look on his face in an attempt to cover the fact that he just wants to slap himself.

"All right, here's the deal," Timmy says arrogantly, hoisting the net up and swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll let Anti-Wanda go, but you gotta give me that Shalick — did I say that right? — Sapphire."

Anti-Cosmo rolls his eyes. "It's Shayliek, you imbecile."

"What-ever. So, where is it?"

The anti-fairy takes a moment to remove his monocle, and polish it. The blasted thing gets dirty so easily. He can feel his opposition staring, but he ignores them. "What do you need it for?" He asks after placing it back over his eye.

"Stuff."

He gives the boy an exasperated look, then turns to his godparents. "I'm seriously beginning to re-think this plan to receive control of the godchildren. Are they all as bad as he is?"

Wanda glares at her husband's double. "He isn't bad. And no, they're worse." When she receives a sceptical look, she adds: "I am not biased, no matter what you might think. Remember that Cosmo and I have had hundreds of godchildren."

Anti-Cosmo nods once. "Mhm. So as I was saying, what if I don't want to give you the sapphire? It does come in handy when one wishes to have a monsoon in the middle of a particularly nice-" he almost spits the word "-day."

A grinning 14-year-old Timmy answers. "Then I hand her over to Jorgen."

Wanda is the only one who catches the flash of blind panic that streaks over Anti-Cosmo's eyes. It's slightly unnerving, as the pink-haired fairy has always thought the doppelganger to emotionless, or at least close to it. After a moment, she convinces herself that she's imagining things.

When he replies, it's with his teeth ground together. "Fine." He gives his wand a twirl, and a small blue stone appears in his hand. It begins to glow, illuminating Anti-Cosmo's face in what is possibly the creepiest way it can.

The annoyed leader flies up to the still-grinning boy, and snatches the butterfly net from him while depositing the sapphire in his empty hand. He poofs away without another word, but not before throwing the butterfly net in the air, allowing it to twirl a few times, and catching the anti-fairy that falls from it bridal-style.

The next Friday the Thirteenth, he thinks, Timothy Turner might just want to lock himself in a closet, because if he even dares to think about spilling some salt . . .

The two anti-fairies arrive in the castle, and Anti-Cosmo has just put his wife down when she turns and envelops him in a lung-crushing hug. "I's sorry," she says, voice slightly muted by his shoulder, which she lays her head on. "I didn' mean ta get caught, an' I know ya'll really liked that sa-fire."

He smiles down at her. "It's perfectly alright, my dear."

It's moments like this that he has complete and utter confidence in himself. He knows he'll never hurt her, intentionally or otherwise. How? Because he can't. It is something akin to self-preservation, he supposes.

For once, the sciences of it all don't really matter to him. He has her, she has him, and they'll never be apart.

And that's more than good enough for him.

Jeez, I wasn't really expecting to write so much! (It may only be 1207 words, but I wrote about 600 of them as I was 'editing' this.) I was planning on stopping before the whole Timmy scene, but it was just too short. *Shrugs* So I added on to it.

Oh, and I used the spellchecker they have on the document editor, and it said 'simplistic' is a complex word. Just found that funny.

Remember: 1 Review = 1 Update. 2 Reviews = FASTER UPDATE! 3 Reviews = I-will-jump-around-my-house-screaming-but-then-remember-to-update-immediatly-and-write-more. :D

Hmm, can't help but feel that I'm forgetting to tell you something . . .

Oh well.

Sayonara!