Ooh, I'm getting… detailed in this story. This'll probably end up being a bunch of Bennica one-shots, or just a two-shot I dunno, probably vaguely connected or just bluntly connected. Sorry for the people reading Whatever May Come, this is what usually happens when I get writer's block. I indulge in my addictions, which includes Bennica and cracking my knuckles. Sorry. But I'll get around to it if it kills me. Not enough fics for this pairing, and here's to changing this. Caution: semi-graphic make-out scene further on. I doubt its graphic enough to skip (I've never even kissed a boy yet, this is from reading other fics. Strongly T, may I add. Sheesh :D)

I gather all this suggestive information from movies, books, and such. Soo mom, if you're reading this; Yes, I do know about sex. So, you don't need to have the talk with me after all. YAY!

ANYWAYS! So you'll be reading some of that. Deal with it or don't, okie? Rated T for a reason, people. Soooo…. Deal.

Not all Erica POV. First person Benny and Erica. Probably be a two-shot, okie?

After all that rambling…

ON WITH THE PROGRAM PEOPLE!

ENGAGE!

Erica…

I moan in complete and utter boredom. I considered video-chatting Sarah earlier, but she was offline. Probably off canoodling with Ethan. Ugh, couples are so… mushy and sappy. Boring too, not to mention. Always hugging and snuggling, holding hands and canoodling. Sarah is the worst; getting with Ethan, a mortal. There is no happy ending for that story. At least the girl in dusk got changed… but I know for a solid fact Sarah would never do that to Ethan. She swore that day after the incident with Jesse, and she had that determined look in her eyes that always tipped me off that she wasn't joking. I'm sure not even what Sarah calls Ethan's "puppy dog eyes" could break her. For some reason, I feel a sharp pain in my chest, and it scares me. What the hell?

Suddenly, I get a video call on my computer and I frown in confusion when I notice it isn't Sarah.

It is dork king himself. Benny.

I roll my eyes and plop into the chair, accepting the request, wondering what could have possibly happened this time. There'd be no other reason to call me, right?

Wrong.

The first thing I see is his surprising (but then again not so surprising) mess of a room behind him. Papers all over the floor, a pair of boxers hanging on a bed-post, and his bed unmade. But, of course I realize with an amused smirk, his action figure/dork shelf is spotless and each and every article is carefully straight. Then I see him. His dark chocolaty hair is carefully combed to look untidy, unless it is natural. Which is possible, but I doubt it. His blue and gray polo is a bit large on his naturally thin frame due to his geeky lifestyle.

"Hey beautiful. Surprised you accepted." He flashes me one of those idiotic smiles he does when he's shamelessly flirting with me. I lose my amused smirk and scowl at him, holding back a curse, and just shoot him back a sharp retort instead.

"What? Thought I was out sucking somebody dry?" I hiss bitterly. He actually looks upset; like he is hurt I had thought he would think that. I'm not guilty in the slightest, but my chest has that sharp pain again. It startles me slightly, and I hope it didn't show on my face as I ignore it and he answers me.

"No." he says firmly, expression one of seriousness. An expression I didn't think him capable of. I snort disbelievingly, brutally unconvinced whether or not he says so. He frowns slightly, and I strongly feel like pressing the "end chat" button. "Ethan won't answer me and Rory's probably off sucking face. Literally." He chuckles humorlessly at his dark joke, and a small laugh escapes my lips. His eyes, a kind green, seem to brighten as a sly smile breaks across his lips. I scold myself for my outburst, no need to give him anything to encourage him.

"I love what you've done with your hair. With your everything, actually." He says warmly and I frown, irritated. There he goes, flirting with me again. And besides, what is so attractive about what I look like now? I'm in one of my old stripy tie-die tees and long horizontally banded cotton pants with orange and gray stripes on them, and my messy hair is up in a loose ponytail. I can't possibly look attractive in any way. He's playing with me for some reason, he has to be.

"What?" I ask sharply, and he looks taken aback by my unexpected tone. He smiles weakly and shakes his head, as if in rejection.

"Nothing, never mind." He says quietly, and I'm bewildered by his less than witty retort. He's usually loud and defensive when I insult him, and I feel myself becoming furious.

"Well, dork? I asked you a question!" I hiss sharply, and his eyes darken. He does something he's never done before. He raises his voice, if only slightly.

"Erica, I have a question. Have you forgotten who you are? Or, more accurately, who you were? You were the Dusker. The charismatic girl with the nerdy frames. The girl, who never skipped class, never got less than an A on every test, and who ran the Dusk fan club." His rant throws me off, and I wonder if he has been holding this in for a while. "I have one question. What happened to that girl? Because I'm pretty much sick of this cool-girl vampire who cast away that girl. Who throws every insult at me and Ethan and Rory like that'll make her go away." He looks at me with disgust. I feel a sense of dread as I realize; everything he has said is true. And he resents me for it. "And I hope you know," he starts, features softening somewhat. "I liked her more than you." The video screen goes blank and I realize he's ended the chat there. I linger on every last word, to have that last statement blare louder than any other sound.

"I liked her more than you."

And, contrary to what I've said before about instead of being mad I get hungry, I'm infuriated beyond comprehension. I feel moisture in my eyes, which I didn't think could happen to a vampire, and it clouds my vision. How a dork is making me feel this strongly, I don't know. But in one swift move I am up out of my chair and heading down the stairs to the front door. My mom and dad have been out for a date night since I got home, so I have no conflict to deter me from my decision as I slam the door and run with every ounce of my super-speed to a certain dork's lair.

Benny…

"Well dork? I asked you a question!" she hisses venomously. I finally snap; I am sick of this… this act she puts on. I decide to give her a little taste of the truth she so dutifully tried to avoid.

"Erica, I have a question. Have you forgotten who you are? Or, more accurately, who you were? You were the Dusker. The charismatic girl with the nerdy frames. The girl, who never skipped class, never got less than an A on every test, and who ran the Dusk fan club. I have one question. What happened to that girl? Because I'm pretty much sick of this cool-girl vampire who cast away that girl. Who throws every insult at me and Ethan and Rory like that'll make her go away." I try and inject as much contempt I can muster into my words, maybe it'll get through her thick skull.

And I try to keep my cool, but it isn't working. My voice is already louder than technically considered an inside voice but not yet an outside voice, and I can already tell I've either hit a nerve, because Erica's eyes are glossy, but she looks like she wants to punch the screen. I force myself to go on. To tell the truth I've been dying to admit. "And I hope you know," I start, watching as her eyes widen at my next words. "I liked her more than you." And with that, I can't stand the expression on her face anymore and I press the end button (escape) with a bit too much force and the video chat screen goes blank instantly.

My words were true, I meant every one, and I don't regret them in the slightest. But I will in a few minutes. That's okay; I'll get to that bridge when I need to cross it. I feel angry as I stand up out of my chair swiftly, not knowing what exactly to do with myself at the moment and end up kicking my bedpost angrily in result. I knew this day was building up every time she called me dork, or nerd, or a dweeb or any insult she came up with. I tried to never show it, but it hit a nerve every single time.

After a few minutes, I calm down. I realize I never should have said anything, and I don't know why what she said sparked the flame this particular time, maybe it's because I knew she couldn't hurt me at least not at the time I said it, but they did. With a sense of foreboding, I realize she's probably using her vampire super-speed to come kill me right now. She'll probably suck my blood, or worse, torture me until I beg her to kill me and then she'll suck my blood. What the hell am I going to do? Sit there and yell for Grandma? I'd have a great time at that, she's at a sorcerer's convention and won't be back until the end of next week. She left me with the assurance that I wouldn't burn down the house, and that I could at least work a microwave. I take a deep breath with the realization that I was probably overreacting. I distinctly remember Rory telling me how when vampires get mad, they usually just go suck extra blood to cool the tendencies. But what if that is just Rory? As far as I know, Rory has never been mad or angry since the day I met him, eight years ago.

I jump out of my thoughts as there's a slam downstairs that sounds distinctly like the front door slamming shut. I make a small, fearful noise in the back of my throat before my door swings open and whacks against the wall with a frightening crack. And, not surprisingly, there's Erica. Standing in the threshold of his door as I cower against the windowpane directly across from said door. I pray to each and every god to help me, but to no avail. Circe? Goddess of magic? Please? No luck.

"You. Are. Dead. Meat." Erica snarls. I mentally kick out every cuss word I know, for no distinct reason other than to do so. Erica surveys me hungrily as if I'm some kind of meat on display in the market, and it doesn't help my fears.

"W-w-wait! You have to hear me out. Every word was true. I miss the nerdy Erica. You r-r-remember what it was like to be bullied, I assume?" I blurt, trying to muster any kind of courage to at least make my voice my voice stop shaking. She takes an intimidating step forward and tilts her head slightly, telling me to continue. I do so hesitantly. "Your glasses were cute. I even said to Rory, before he was turned, and Ethan how you were" I take a gulp; this was definitely going to make her kill me. "-The Princess Leia to my Han Solo." She has an expression of deep confusion before it clears, replaced by a look of pure disbelief. "Remember that old tree they cut down? I-I cut your name into that tree, adding to the list of girls I loved. There were very few." I chuckle nervously, trying not to think of the many names that were on that tree, along with Catwoman. "All those other girls, when I dropped that love potion, they didn't matter. I-I wanted you, really. I fell in love with that nerdy girl who loved dusk. I had her that day, if only for six hours. She was perfection." I say regretfully, trying to recover from my blunder after I realize what I said. "Your no less now, but…" I don't get to say anymore, as Erica pounces. But to my surprise, she isn't sucking me dry. She is kissing me. I stumble, shocked. But after a few seconds, I melt into the kiss and it's better than the first. Her hands travel up to my hair, tugging on the strands, and I make a noise in the back of my throat I've never made before. Erica laughs against my lips, and it's especially endearing. I hold her closer and she is practically glued to me as we make out like hungry lovers. Her tongue glides across my lips, begging for entrance. I smile against her lips, she's seriously kissing me. I grant her entrance, and the feeling is like nothing else. The battle for dominance is practically overwhelming, and my knees are like jelly as one of Erica's hands sneakily slides up my shirt and traces invisible patterns against my stomach. It tickles, and of course she wins the battle. Dirty cheater. Our lip-lock breaks and Erica smirks deviously, grabbing the collar of my polo with both hands and dragging me to my bed. I gulp as I realize what this means. She turns us around and we collapse onto the bed, her on top of me and, of course, me under her. She locks lips with me for a moment before trailing little kisses down my neck. She slides off my polo, casts it onto the floor and so the chaos ensues.

…

OKIE. Told you. So, first things first, I don't really know if the boys met Rory eight years ago. But in my head, they do. By the way, Benny's reference to Circe is a greek reference. Percy Jackson? Catching my drift? Minor goddess, not an Olympian. If your not a Percian, you probably wouldn't have heard of her unless you take Mythology and I'll stop talking now.

Let me know if there's anything wrong (besides the Rory-knowing-thing) and REVIEW PLEASE!

Please Review? It'll only take a second I promise. Please please please. I don't even care if you say its crap. Just tell me :D

HaVe A sUpEr SpEcTaCuLaR dAy!

~Zellarest