13A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, guys! Here's the final chapter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: *sighs heavily then mumbles quickly* I don't own Dragon Booster.
Previously, on Kitt? Jealous?:
"You wanted a compliment before I asked you out?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
"Yes! That's exactly what I wanted! A little flirting even! Would that have killed you?"
A slow grin spread across his face. "A little flirting?" He repeated in a low voice.
"Uh, um, yeah." Kitt stuttered a bit at the sudden change in his voice.
"A compliment?"
"Mm-hm."
"How about...you're beautiful."
"That's...good," she said slowly.
"But not great?"
She tried not to smile. "No..."
"How about...every girl I meet, I compare to you? They're always missing something."
Kitt licked her lips unconsciously. She hadn't realized how close they were getting. The bandages lay forgotten in her hand. "Like what?"
Artha's hand traveled upwards and began playing with a lock of her hair. "They never have a sense of humor. Or they're never as pretty as you. Or they don't call me out on my bluffs. Or they don't teach me drac new tricks on the track." He grinned at her.
Kitt was frowning. "Chute did all of those things," she pointed out.
"She did?" Artha frowned too. "No, she didn't."
"Yeah, she did. She has a great sense of humor, she's absolutely stunning, she calls everyone out on their bluffs and she taught you that hanging upside down trick." She ticked off each quality on her fingers.
Artha grinned widely. "If I didn't know better, I would say you're jealous of Chute."
"I am not!" Kitt blushed. Screw you body. She cursed mentally. Screw you.
"You're blushing!" he cried gleefully.
"So what?" She crossed her arms, turning away from him.
"But, seriously," he said. "She doesn't have all those things."
"I just proved she does."
"She doesn't have your sense of humor. She's not as pretty as you are. And she didn't teach me anything. She just expected me to go along."
Kitt turned back to face him. "What are you saying?"
"She's not you." His blue eyes stared earnestly into her green ones.
Kitt took his face in between her hands and pressed her lips against his. After a shocked Artha took a second to adjust, he began to kiss back, almost hungrily.
"Hey, Artha! Kitt! I made it to Level 24 on Battleground Dragon!" Lance called, innocently walking into the room. "Guys?" He stopped dead in his tracks at the doorway. "Oh, scarred for life!" He covered his eyes with his hand.
At the loud crash of the VIDD game falling to the floor, Kitt and Artha broke apart.
"How did we-" Kitt asked breathlessly, half lying down on the sofa with Artha positioned on top her, keeping his weight off her with one arm.
"Good question," he whispered, getting off. "Hey, Lance! You made to Level 24! Lance? Why are you covering your eyes and moaning? Lance!"
"Boys? Kitt?" Connor walked into the room with Parmon at his side. "What's going on?"
"Not much," Kitt replied, seemingly unable to stop grinning. "Not much at all." She turned to Artha, who was trying to get his brother to look at him. "You can bandage your arm on your own now, right? I gotta get home for dinner."
"Sure," he smiled warmly, and strode over to her. "See you at the dance tomorrow." He leaned down and kissed her, just for a few seconds.
"See you," she whispered back, smoothing down his shirt. Both of them ignored the sound of jaws dropping all around them. "Bye, guys."
"I get a special goodbye now," she heard Artha brag after she had left the stables.
She chuckled to herself, and practically skipped to Wyldfyr's stall. "Let's go home, boy," she told him. "I gotta tell Pyrrs and Marianis about this."