Listen to the amazing song by Laurel! She's sung many songs for the series and she has an AMAZING voice. In the beginning, she reads the description of DIMBFF and then she sings her original song! :)

P.S- I wrote this all in chunks and as usual I didn't edit so yeah. Sorry. LOL. 

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            We still stood at the opposite ends of his bed, waiting for the other person to make the first move. And whereas Death was unquestionably comfortable standing half-naked in front of me with his his famous sensual look from underneath his lashes on, I was repeatedly fidgeting in and yanking down his oversized Chicago Bear jersey around my thighs, where his heated green eyes continued to linger. I was regretting the fact that I was in fact that it was not only freezing cold in Death's house and I wasn't wearing any pants, but also the fact that the suggestive wink that Death had given me when I pulled down his jersey to cover more skin implied that the whole "no pants" thing was just what the Angel of Death ordered.

                      "I once had a nickname after I battled against a Lion in a arena thousands of years ago with just my bare hands. I suppose in the modern age it would be very seductive," Death stated, still smiling and arching a menacing brow. Now he was showing off his impressive fighting skills? The bitch!

            Sighing, I figured I would play along with his little tactics. "And what could that nickname possibly be, Death?"

            "De Percussore Catulus," Death purred, his tongue rolling off of his first language with ease. "The Kitten Eater."

            My cheeks burned. "You enjoy watching me squirm at your pervasive jokes."

            "Maybe." Death grinned devilishly ear to ear. "I do like it when you blush, TBH."

            "TBH?"

            Death ran a hand slowly though his hair, his bicep flexing. "It means To Be Honest," he explained snootily. "Text Lingo. Get with the program, or GTFO."

            "I knew what it meant already. That's disturbing that you said that. What do you even do when I'm not around you to tease? Read? I mean--I can see how you already have fun, since you enjoy multiply like a group of guppies around the whole world, leaving a trail of depression and death." I put my hands on my hips. "Do you read Where's Waldo? and eat chips? Do you do a few sets of squats and take a run around the block?"

            Death gave me a sly look with a raise of an eyebrow, that literally read 'Shouldn't have went there, cupcake.' I swear, if I had a razor on hand at that moment I would have shaved that sexy eyebrow right off, he was giving me that look so often. "When I do have time, I normally do what any other twenty-one year old does when they're alone. Well, at least I technically look twenty-one years old..."

            It took me a while to catch on to what he was saying. By the time that I did, I was the shade of a package of Cherry Twizzlers. My gaze dropped to left hand which was making sexual gestures at his crotch. "Ugh!" I cried, looking back up. "You're giving me images that are just not ok right now."

            "TMI?" Death questioned with a snicker.

            "Stop using text lingo!"

            "Listen princess," Death began, growing serious. "My horniness is like Play-Doh. You can cut it up with as many plastic knives and graters that you want, but in the end, if you don't put the Play-doe back into the container, the Play-doe get's all dry and useless."

            "That is the sickest analogy I have ever heard."

            He made an open gesture, grinning like a cat. "Always here to help the less fortunate, baby."

            "That doesn't even make any sense." I waited for him to say more, but he just continued to give me a look of his that was both sexy, disturbing, scary, and made me uncomfortable. Not a good mix. "You have more to say," I concluded.

          "You know me so well." Death smirked, exposing a mouthful of fangs. "I was going to say you very much liked Play-doe when you were younger, but deemed it a slightly inappropriate comment being I'm half-naked and thinking about all of the inappropriate ways I can pin you to the bed for 15 seconds without having sex with you."

            My mouth fell open. "Never tell me what you're thinking again."

            "Kay." Death gave me an exaggerated once over with his eyes and licked his upper lip. "You know... if you want to get on my good side -- which is every side -- you are more than welcome to join me during my next "moment alone". Perhaps then I would forget the whole 'you stabbed me in the back and enslaved me to the Unknown and then nailed me in the face with a cross that momentarily made me look like Harry Potter,' thing."  

          Surely, someone had splashed lava onto my face. "I should have never made this deal with you," I said.

            "No?" He arched that damn brow again.

            "No, I definitely shouldn't have. You're going to make a big show out of this and I'm sure as hell not giving you a strip tease. We'll be here for hours trying to pin each other down."

            "Then back out," Death said simply with a shrug, his gaze wondering on every place on my body but my face. "I'm thinking red lace when you do the strip tease? You would look very good in red lace."

            "Keep dreaming, Blanky," I hissed, narrowing my eyes.

            His locked onto mine. "Blanky will," he replied with a smirk, then after a short moment of holding my gaze he shrugged. "Black lace is my favorite anyways."

            I scoffed. "I'm not backing out. I already have a plan that can't fail."

            Once again, Death stared at me intensely for the longest time, his shapely jaw locked tight. Realizing that he was reading my mind like an open book, I repeatedly thought of eating a bowl of cereal so that he wouldn't know what I was plotting.

            "Cheater!" I shouted, pointing a finger at him. "Automatic disqualification! I win!"

            He frowned. "You can't be cereal."

            Before I could suppress it, I burst out laughing. He was listening to my thoughts! "Fine, do it again and I win. I can't read your mind, so stop reading mine."

            "You don't want to read my mind, my mind is a dangerous place for cupcakes," Death drawled, moving around the end of his bed and gliding towards me, his muscular legs eating up the space between us in long, leisure strides. "Nor little princesses," Death added, sliding his finger along the curve of my side.

            I flinched away from him. "I have to keep reminding you that I'm taller than the average woman, don't I? I'm not short, you're just overly tall. And overall big."

            He scoffed. "No, you're definitely just a munchkin." Now he was stalking around me, his exotic eyes roaming along each feature of my body as he circled around me like a hungry predator. "But is it such a bad thing I'm so much bigger than your little puny self? More room for you to... play on me. Oops, there I go with those suggestive statements that can be taken sexually again."

            Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes.  "How devastated will your manly pride be when you lose this bet?"

            That earned a low growl from Death in return. "I don't plan on losing," he said, circling me again. The way I had to follow him with my eyes as he circled around me was making me slightly disoriented. Maybe that was the point.

            I arched a brow. "Always--?"

            "Always. I'm too pretty to lose anything. And I do believe I have settled on the black lace, princess," he murmured, ignoring me entirely and momentarily grabbed my backside with one hand, making me yelp a little. When I gripped his wrist and tried to tug him away, he squeezed a little harder and whispered into my ear, "I love an ass I can fit my entire hand around."

            I smacked his hand away, hissing. So he had touched other ones like mine, then? "Don't touch me like that," I barked.

            "Don't touch your perky butt? That's such a cruel punishment. " Death circled around me once, making an odd rumbling noise at the back of his throat, before pausing behind me and leaning in towards my neck. "But I do like to be punished." This time, he slapped my butt, making me leap slightly in the air.

            "Hey!" I cried, gripping his arm and bringing back my fist to punch him. But when I turned around, Death had disappeared and I was gripping air.

            "Me-ow, someone is feisty" he purred from behind me. "Frustrated you're going to lose, shnookums?"

            I whirled around, my fist still raised. Death eyed my raised fist with a curious look, tilting his head slightly as if preparing to hit him was the most fascinating thing in the world to the Angel of Death.

            After a moment of smiling to himself, Death patted his cheek once, turning his face to the side and leaning down to my level. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. "Hit me." He patted his cheek again. "Right here. Hit your Master." He chuckled deeply. "This is becoming very sexual. Death likey."

            I was squeezing my raised fist so hard that my hand started to shake. Hitting him in the face again would make my year, but it would mean giving into his command. "But Faith don't likey," I found myself saying. "You'll just block it and use whatever evil plot of your own that's floating in that mind of yours and flip me over like a pancake or something. And honestly, I'm surprised you haven't just cut to the chase and thrown me to the ground already."

            "Nonsense, I want to watch you squirm first. Since virgins typically uncomfortable around naked, sexually energized men, I figured an uptight prude like you pin yourself to the ground if I took my pants off again and showed you what a real man looks like." He pulled briefly at the waist of his sweatpants. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

            I wanted to punch his smirk off his face so damn bad. "Aren't you scared you'll go to far?" I shot back, mimicking his cocky expression. "What if you took off your pants and--oops, accidently de-virgified me?"

            Death's smile wavered. "I have a lot of control."

            "When's the last time you've had sex, Mr. Seductive?" I pressed.

            At that, he glower red at me, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Recently."

            "Liar. Mr. Seductive's been hibernating, so how do you know how much control you really have?" I crossed my arms over my chest, my voice mocking. "All of your hard work could be ruined, just because you got a little...too...cocky."

            "I see what you're doing. You're trying to scare me into not touching you again. As if I have no control." In the blink of an eye, Death grabbed the lamp on his bedside table and threw it against the room. Hard. After a moment of him breathing raggedly, he turned towards me and waddled a finger at me, chuckling lowly. His eyes were psychotic, they were glowing such a bright emerald. "You of all people can't plot against me. Do you know how long I have withstood this curse, repetitively collecting souls and repetitively eating their energy and yada-yada--" He picked up another object in the room and hurled it against the wall. "As if I have time to have sex, babysitting you and controlling my replicas all around the freaking world. This part of me is tired of Angel of Death shit. I want to have fun once in a while. I can momentarily play with you all I want. I'll never have sex with you. Ever."

            I held my breath, dropping my gaze to the ground and realized I was holding in how undeniably hurt I was by that. "Then why do you want this strip tease so bad," I whispered.

            "Why wouldn't you?" He crossed the room, leaning his face real close to me and snarling into my face. "You'll never have sex. You'll never please a man. You're heavily attracted to me. I can smell it. I can hear it in your damn voice.  Your heartbeat. I can see it in your eyes. By making you grind against me for a few minutes I'm giving you what you damn-well know you want! To by my whore." Death's eyes were two furious wickedly bright emeralds. It was a look I didn't like to see on him at all. A dangerous look, that had me backing away from Death and him following me with his head lowered as if he was going to pounce at me at any moment. Maybe this "bet" of ours was preparing me for something that was coming that would be a lot more life threatening than giving Death a strip tease.

            "Get away from me," I said, and slapped him. Death's head went to the side and his expression went utterly blank. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you monster! I don't deserve to be treated like that! Do you hear me? Ever" I screamed at him. I was trembling, clutching the front of my shirt in my hand, waiting for him to hit me back. But I knew he would never hit me back. So I slapped him again, harder, and then brushed past him towards the bed and laid down on the furthest side from him, facing the curtain covered windows.

             "You can't win, Faith."

            "Maybe you're right," I said to the curtains. "Or maybe you really, really aren't."

            The bed tipped with Death's weight. "Nobody knows you more than I do. Nobody. And I don't want anyone to know you like I do."

            "And nobody will," I said flatly.

            "You have a ticklish spot," Death said, making my body tense.

            "Don't touch me."

            "I bet just thinking about how ticklish you are in that one will make you laugh." Now his voice was right behind me, his significant weight making my side of the mattress tilt down towards him. I gripped lightly at the edge of the mattress, pulling myself away as if he was a magnet reeling me in.

            "No it won't," I said. I then tucked my lips each other, shutting my eyes. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

            "Don't think about it," Death said impishly. Of course, I then thought about it more vividly than I should have, his fingers brushing against the area of skin a few inches below my neck where I was unbelievably, unconditionally, extremely ticklish.

            I shriveled up in a ball like dry sea crab, bursting out laughing and then frantically reached behind my back as the sensation at my neck continued. Sure enough, his fingers were actually tickling me and I happened to grab one. But when I did, he reeled me backwards like a fish on a hook, rolling down to his side of the bed and stopping myself on his chest right when our faces were inches away.

            "Hi," Death said. Up close I could see the flecks of different greens in his exotic, sad looking eyes. If I looked at them any longer, surely I would drown in their depths. "Faith," Death began when I didn't answer.  

            I shook my head with a soft, "No," then started to roll over when--

            He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cheek. He opened his mouth to say something more, probably something that would make me smile, when his mouth closed and he just watched me with those big, sad eyes.

            "What are you doing?" I whispered as he slowly moved my hand back and forth against his cheek, sliding over his stubble and then sliding over the portions of his cheek that were neatly shaved.

            "Your skin is so soft." Death shut his eyes. "It's always been so....soft."

            My eyes took in his slackening features. His full lips loosened. He still had his hand over mine, holding it to his cheek. His breaths were getting deeper, his body started to unwind, shoulder and hips curving slightly towards me. I couldn't help but notice his other hand -- the one that wasn't holding my hand to his cheek, that had curled behind my pillow and was intertwined in my hair. Was he falling asleep that easily?

             Didn't he have sleeping issues?

            Minutes passed and I felt like such a creeper watching Death sleep. I really should have just woke him up for being so rude towards me, yet I couldn't. He just looked so...peaceful. But unfortunately, his heavy leg had found an interest in my own leg and my own leg was starting to get numb. And when I went to shift myself into a better position, slowly and carefully moving my hand from underneath Death's on his cheek, I heard a deep murmur of distress from Sleeping Blanky. Death shifted closer to me in his sleep, wrapped his arm around me like a powerful anaconda and nuzzled his head against my chest, sighing back to sleep.

            He better not be faking it, I thought, being his face was conveniently between my breasts.

            Death let out a snore.

            Testing just how possessive of me Death was in his sleep, I inched away from him and was pulled back towards him like an elastic band, his leg hooking over mine and his face now back to its original position directly in front of me.

            Great, now I was his body pillow.

            Now that Death's face was directly in front of mine, I paid close attention to the way his mouth was moving slightly in his sleep as if he was talking. When I moved even closer to his mouth, he started muttering the same word over and over again under his breath that I couldn't quite understand.

            "Death?" I whispered.

            His eyebrows rose in his sleep and he muttered, "Bitch?"

            Scoffing at first, I then smiled to myself and reached around the back of his head, moving my fingers into his thick hair, visibly comforting him in his sleep.

 "Not the hair, not the hair," Death murmured under his breath. Good god, he really did talk in his sleep! "Sweetheart, I put way to much effort into this hair for you to mess it up." Death lifted his hand swatted at my thigh. "I shouldn't even let you touch my hair after" -- he shivered violently--"that time you..." He squeezed his eyes tightly in his sleep and shivered again.

            "That time you what?" I whispered back to him, smiling at how responsive he was to my voice.

            "Forget I said anything," Death muttered, his breaths still slow and deep. I had never met a person that had full on conversations with people in their sleep, but I knew he was sleeping because his expression was still calm.

            "Tell me," I pressed softly, remaining on his lap as if it was the most casual thing.

            "No, no I can't." Death shook his head side to side. It was a fail, really, because there was a pillow there. "You'll make fun of me."

            "Yes." I shook my head up and down.

            Death sighed in his sleep. "I could show you, I suppose" He smiled. "I could transfer the memory to you since I'm your Guardian. You'll most likely regain the memory at some point because you are Reaper -- as you have with many others already that I have erased from your mind, but seeing this one will come at a price. This memory has scared me for life.

            "Now I really want to see it," I said.

            "The price is sleeping naked with me," he whispered huskily.

            If only he could see how red my face was. "Is the memory really that worth it?"

            "You'll never look at me the same," Death murmured, then snored slightly, "and you're a bitch so you have to give me something first."

            I thought about that for a moment. "How about... you show me the memory now  regardless of who wins the bet because you're an asshole even in your sleep, and if you pin me down for 15 seconds afterwards I'll give you a strip tease and sleep naked."

            "Deal," Death murmured. Suddenly, his hand fell in between us. Staring down at it, I waited for something to happen. Nothing.

            "Kiss me and I will show you," he rumbled softly.

            My eyebrows rose. "You have to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath. The instant I started to imagine myself kissing him, my heart started to pound wildly. He's not even awake. This'll be easy.

            Nearing his mouth, I shut my eyes and pressed my lips against his smooth, full lips, his silver loop piercing along his bottom lip giving me goose bumps it was so cold.

            I waited, my lips still against his.

            Abruptly, my eyes burst open and I was floating between two worlds, stuck between staring at Death's sleeping form and watching Little Faith run around her room, rapidly opening drawers and throwing makeup products onto her bed. Once she appeared to be done, Little Faith leaped onto her bed and pretended to choke herself.

            "Death! Help me! Death!"

            A black amorphous mist appeared by Little Faith's window. Death soon began to form from the black substance, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "What the--? Faith, what are you doing to yourself?!" Death came to the bed, separating Little Faith's hands from her throat as she giggled. Death growled a little. "I told you only to call me if it was an emergency! Not if you're pretending to choke yourself."

            "I was losing Ox cotton!"

            Death jammed his hand under his hood, probably running a hand angrily through his hair. He seemed to prod at something on his head and then growled to himself. "It's Oxygen, sweetheart. Oxygen is what you breath in."

            "That's what I said, Blanky! Now play with me!" Little Faith got up and jumped up and down on her bed in front of him. "I want to finish you a makeover and make you look pretty with lipstick and eye shadow...and--and some sparkly lip-gloss."

            "I like the makeover the way it is, Faith--"

            "I'm doing your makeup!"

            "Faith," Death sighed.

            "BLANKY!" Little Faith roared, jabbing a chubby finger towards his shadowy face. "YOU WILL LET ME DO YOUR MAKEUP AND YOU WILL LIKE IT! I WORK--ED HARD TO GET YOU MY MOMMY'S NEW LIPGLOSS AND LIPSTICK! YOU WILL LIKE IT!!!"

            He cringed back at her roar. "You terrify me. And I've seen some terrifying things."

            Little Faith fluttered her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. "Hehe!" she said.

            Death stood in front of her unmoving, staring down at the assortment of hair products and big girl makeup on her bed. "I'd rather gauge my eyes out than do all of this..." Death murmured bitterly to himself, then gave Little Faith a louder and more cheerful, "Sounds like fun!"

            Little Faith clapped happily. "I'm going to make you look like a lady and then you can marry Mr. Wiggles and then we'll all be married and then you'll have our babies!"

            "I'll have the babies?" At that, Death shook his head. "No, no, no, no. I don't want to be the woman in the relationship. I enjoy being a man, I really do. I have a reputation, pumpkin. I'm the Angel of Death. I'm manly. Very, very manly. Manly men don't wear makeup."

            "Manly men? Is that why you left me and said you had to do "errands"? Because of your re-poo-tat-station?" Faith stopped jumping on the bed, her lip puckering outwards and her big blue eyes filling with tears. "Y-y-you---y-you don't want to p-play with--?"

            Death grabbed Little Faith by the hips as she sobbed and lifted her up, placing her on the ground in front of him. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, scolding her. "Hey, no crying! You're a big girl. Big girls smile."

            She sniffled, then threw back her head and uncontrollably wailed.

            "Faith, shush! Your parents are going to hear."

            "They're watching Oprah in the basement," she sobbed. "Mommy fell asleep on Daddy and I wanted to"--she sniffled, about to explode into tears again-- "p-p-play with B-B-B-B-B-Blanky."

            Death fidgeted as she continued to wail, cringing slightly as she blew her nose wildly in Death's sleeve. "Sweetheart, please stop. Come on, it's making me nervous. Please? You can finish the makeover! Whatever you want, ok? Just don't cry! Please don't cry. Look, I didn't touch a thing of your makeover, it's all here." He then ripped off his hood, revealing his spiky hair in tiny pony tails with pink hair ties and rainbow clips scattered randomly along his head. A few of them had been neatly braided and there was a trace of gold sparkles along the hairdo all together.

            Little Faith stuck her thumb in her mouth, her eyes still wet with tears. "You love it, Blanky?" she muffled around her finger.

            "Um...well...I wouldn't say love. I couldn't really get it out..." He straightened, noticing Little Faith's face scrunch up with sadness again. "But it looks so good! So, SO good! You're a professional!"

            She covered her face and started to sob. "You don't like it! I did a bad hairdo! I ruined your re-poo-tat-station!"

            "Reputation," Death corrected, awkwardly patting her on the back. Before he could prevent her, Little Faith blew her nose into the sleeve of his cloak and wiped at her eyes. "That's nice. I'm sure they have great detergent for that stain in Hell. Faith....how could I be mad at you when I look so"--he visibly swallowed back his man pride--"...pretty? I love what you did to my hair, it's so....colorful. Just uh...can you tell me how to get this stuff out of my hair when we're done?"

            Little Faith ceased her crying all together as if she had never been upset to begin with. "Only if  I can paint your fingernails and toenails and we can watch the Little Mermaid." She looked up at him with her big blue eyes and grabbed his leather gloved hand with both of hers. "Please?" she pleaded, eyes watery.

            Death slumped significantly. "Fine," he sighed.

            "Do you remember how Annona had her first miscarriage, my son?" Malphas' rough voice slid into my ears. "Do you still remember the night I told you? Does it haunt you're every waking moment? Do you believe me yet? Do you?"

            The sound of a whip cracking slowly started to change the scene into that of the gymnasium at Devin & Son. At the center of the room were dozens of dead birds and Malphas was looming over his son at the center of the room, laughing cynically as Death let out a suppressed scream and his skin started to pink along his chest and burning. I recalled that holy water had been at the end of Malphas weapon, and Death had been paralyzed by many of Thomas' arrows and was unable to move most of his body.

            "ANSWER ME!" Malphas brought the whip back, the painful sound of the leather hitting Death's skin making me internally wince. "I know you can speak, damnit! I want to hear you tell me the story!"

            When Death still refused to answer, Malphas placed his foot against Death's throat and pressed down. "Tell me or I'll crush your neck, wait for you to heal, and start all over!"

            "TELL ME!"

            Malphas stepped back, laughing.

            Another crack of a whip.

            "TELL ME!!"

            And another.

            "She was convinced that the baby would be a monster," Death finally choked out, blood seeping slowly from his mouth, "and she begged..."

            Malphas smiled with his black fangs. "And what did she beg for, Alexandru? What did all of the whorish women around town that didn't want a baby in their womb anymore ask me? Come on! I know you know my power very well! Remember when I used to brag? Remember when I told you how many times after she stayed in bed with me? And you still continued to see her. Then she got pregnant again. Probably would have asked me to do the same--"

            "You manipulated Annona into having sex with you." There was a crack in Death's voice. "You're lying to me."

            "Annona spread her pretty pale legs for me before I even agreed to help her. And what did I get after I killed the whore for you? Not even a thank-you. I cleaned up whatever mess of your life you were making, and not even a damn thank-you."

            Death managed to turn his head away from his father.

            There was an eerie silence where Malphas just stared down at his son, a slow, victoriously smile edging along his lips. "You'll never admit how little she loved you back. Worthless. Pathetic. That's what you were then and are now."

            Death started to sob.

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:'(

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TTYL, BETCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *poofs into nothing*