Revelations

A/N:- My first foray into the ADJL fandom. Written over the span of a month or so, while waiting for the new season to hurry up and start, damn it. Primarily SpudTrix. I know I'm venturing into uncharted lands with that one. There are NO other SpudTrix fics out there. Give it a chance, huh? You may well begin to like them together.

They're eighteen here. I'm not American, so I know diddly about proms. Bear with me on that one.

Warnings:- Possible OOC, but that's a given, seeing as they're older. I doubt there are any spoilers, unless you've been trapped under your bed for the last six months.

Disclaimer:- Hoot. The things I'd do with ADJL if it was mine…..

"You nasty, Spud!" Trixie exclaimed, edging away from her friend. "Come on, man." A look of acute distaste took over her features. Her date – not by choice, and you better believe it – only grinned widely, and proceeded to push the pretzel stick a little further up his left nostril.

It was nine o'clock on prom night, her date had bailed on her, she was stuck with Spud, the DJ was playing music from some Jaron McArthur wannabe, people were shooting them curious looks, and her dress was too tight. Trixie could think of worse scenarios, but really, she could think of better. The tux-clad teen beside her emitted something of an awed chuckle as he down looked cross-eyed at the pretzel protruding from his nostril, prodding it.

"Cool," he said. It came out hollow and muffled, on account of the blockage of one of his air passages.

Exasperated, Trixie inched her way back to him, reached out and gingerly plucked the snack from his nose, and flung it far, far away. It was only by chance that far, far away happened to be in the general vicinity of the DJ booth. Trixie did not look at all commiserating as a loud yelp reached her ears. He was playing crap anyway.

"Oh, man, Trix, come on," Spud protested as the African American girl wiped her fingers off on a napkin. "You're stifling my creativity here." Trixie fixed him with a look, placing her fists on her hips. After a couple of moments of death-glaring, her cocoa brown eyes followed his as they sidled to the bowl of pretzel sticks behind them on the buffet table, still within reach. She gave him another dark glower, arched an eyebrow that said 'Don't even think about it', and then, almost as an afterthought, pushed the bowl far down on the buffet table, out of reach.

"Nuh-uh, Spud. Not tonight, home-boy. It's bad enough that you my date. I ain't gon' have you actin' all….." She paused, trying to think of a word that would adequately sum up the quirky, abstruse, downright weird characteristics of her childhood friend. "…..Spudly," she decided upon.

"Oh, come on, Trix, I'm not that bad of a date," he remonstrated, helping himself to some punch.

"….Naw, you not," she admitted, giving him an oblique appraisal. With the snappy black tux he was wearing, coupled with his spiky brown hair tipped with blond and his sparse scattering of freckles, he was making that ubiquitous dopey look of his appear almost….handsome. "But you sure ain't Denzel," she added, just for good measure.

Spud didn't seem to be very distressed by this fact.

"Neither was Daniel."

"Whatever," she snapped, peeved to hear the name of her intended date. They'd all met Daniel at the Skate Park a few weeks ago. He was real cool, and knew some mad moves. Plus, he had that asymmetrical face kind of good looks going on. So when he'd asked her to go to the prom with him, she'd been more than down.

However, the infamous 'something' had 'come up'. That was all Daniel had told her when he'd called five minutes before he had been due to pick her up. She'd been a little disappointed, and a lot pissed, but she hadn't been about to stay at home. Jake and Spud were expecting her. So she'd skated to the prom (which, in this dress, hadn't exactly been a skate in the park).

Halfway there, she'd met up with Spud (he hadn't been that hard to spot; he was the only other person in prom-wear on a skateboard). After she'd explained about Daniel, he'd gotten one of those great ideas of his. He had no date (she'd come down with the flu), she had no date……

Yeah.

So.

"He was a dead ringer for Denzel, though," Trix commented, staring into space wistfully as she addressed Spud's earlier remark.

"Ah ha!" Spud put on his serious face, and peered down at her. "Do I detect a hint of remorse? Sadness?"

"No, you don't," she sniped irritably. Spud didn't seem to hear her, though. He was staring off into nothingness, as if in a trance, a hand on his heart.

"'The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end'."

Trixie rolled her eyes.

"Now you spoutin' Shakespeare on me."

"Actually, it's not Shakespeare; it's Disraeli," Spud informed her knowledgably.

"Whatever."

"Anyway, wanna know why I make a way better date than Daniel?"

Trixie stared at him blandly, then gave a shrug that seemed to say, 'humour me.'

"Not only to I have a complete and intimate comprehension of you as a person, but I can do this…." He rubbed his stomach and patted his head simultaneously. "….I've almost figured out the secret art of doing this…." He valiantly tried to touch the tip of his tongue to his nose. "….and plus, I gave you that rocking corsage." Trixie looked down at the yellow and mauve monstrosity, masquerading as a stylised flower, that was pinned above her breast. Spud had fished it out of the deep, dark recesses of his pockets once it had been confirmed that they were stuck together for the night. It clashed horribly with her green dress.

"Aaaaaaaaannd….." The Spudster wasn't finished yet. "As an added bonus….." Dramatic pause. "I totally rock!" The exuberant statement was punctuated by the pumping of a fist into the air.

Trixie wondered if she should be amused or exasperated.

"Whatever you say, homie," was all she said.

The two teens both straightened, and turned towards the dance-floor. The dimly lit space was pulsating with grooving bodies. The mass of moving bodies, conclusive of about half the attendees of the school, swayed and gyrated to the hip-hop beat that emanated from the DJ booth. The record spun and skipped sporadically before the song changed, metamorphosing from the jumping rap rhythm to a rock remix.

Trixie didn't want to dance right now, not really...well, maybe a little. But not with Spud. That'd be way too weird. Seriously. And she wasn't up to dancing alone, either. So she opted for bobbing her head, swinging her hands and snapping her fingers, tapping her foot lighting, and occasionally taking furtive glances at the boy in her peripheral. Spud was nodding his head placidly and humming a tune that only he knew.

A black, green, pink and blonde blur presented itself brusquely, pausing momentarily to grab some punch and say, "S'up guys? What's crackalatin'?" and "Hi guys, nice seeing you," before twirling back to the dance-floor. Trixie and Spud smiled forcedly at the previously occupied air in front of them. Jake and Rose were dancing away again. He was doing some silly move for her, and she was giggling in visible delight.

Trixie's eyes narrowed.

"Looks like they're having fun," Spud commented in a strained voice.

"Yeah," his companion replied shortly.

The logical, sensible part of Trixie's brain told her that this was all completely, inherently, wrong. Rose was Hunts-girl, the American Dragon's archenemy for six years now. She was pure evil, that girl, and it was Jake's job as the Am Drag to protect the magical community from the likes of people like her and her master. She just couldn't believe he was doing this.

Trix knew that, yeah, it was messed up that Rose was one of the bad guys. She was just so nice, and had that wholesome, all-American girl thing going on. Trix could even see her and home-girl being friends in another universe. But the fact still remained that Jake was going against an ancient and deeply-instilled adage. You did not sleep with – or date – the enemy.

Trixie's moue transformed into a frown of contemplation. Conversely, the part of her that controlled those sappy emotions that she tried to keep under wraps could only feel sympathy and remorse. Those two were straight-up, flat out made for each other. Trixie hadn't seen two people look at each other like that since her mom and dad. She had never witnessed a couple with such a connection. It was obvious to everyone who saw them glance, smile, or interact with each other in any way. Hell, it was obvious to Jake and Rose themselves. And that was what made the fact of the matter so damn hard.

The ski trip still hung heavy on everyone's minds. It had been six years since Jake had found out the terrible truth, that Rose, the girl he was crushing on, was his mortal enemy, on the side of evil. The Am Drag had been straight-up crushed. He hadn't wanted to talk about it though, and instead, had thrown himself into his work – school, house, and otherwise – with a fervour that belied his devastation.

The following few weeks had been hell to deal with. Rose had tried reaching out to Jake, wondering why he suddenly wasn't speaking to her. When he refused to even acknowledge her, except for one glance filled with vague rancour, she'd turned to his best friends for help. She hadn't been able to make much leeway there either. Trixie and Spud were deliberately blatant in their endeavours to avoid her. Confused and hurt, Rose had simply stopped trying after a while.

Trixie and Spud had tried to no avail to reach Jake. He maintained that he simply did not want to discuss what had transpired. It pained his friends to see him introvert himself like that, but they could do nothing about it. Jake took it upon himself to inform Grandpa Long and Fu-dog about the events of the ski trip. The wise old man had been sympathetic, but had been quick to enlighten his grandson as to what these new developments signified. He now had to exercise extreme caution in concealing his identity from the Hunts-clan.

Somehow, life went on in that adamant way of its. The budding American Dragon kept on protecting the magical community from harm, under the steady guiding hand of his grandfather, and sometimes with assistance from his best friends.

There were the inevitable confrontations with Hunts-girl. The first time after the ski trip, Trixie had thought her boy wouldn't be able to do it, as she and Spud watched from the vantage point of a nearby rooftop. He had faltered momentarily during the fight, an almost terrified look crossing his crimson dragon features. Trixie could see the reason why in his coal black eyes. He wasn't able to stomach the thought of battling, and possibly maiming, Rose.

Trixie could almost see as he slapped his resolve and nerve back into place with Herculean determination, and continued the fight. In time, he learned that he would have to put the safety of those he loved, and was sworn to protect, before his own feelings. Jake and Rose continued to drift apart, like masses of ice on an Arctic sea. Ever so slowly, he seemed to get over her.

And that was why, a week ago, Trixie and Spud had been left slack-jawed and bugged-eyed when he dropped the news. He was going to ask Rose to the prom.

After their initial reactions of "Are you trippin' man!" and "Dude, have you contracted some kind of rare Dragon fever?", he had sat them down and explained everything as best as he could.

No matter the intrinsic, debilitating folly of it all, he still had feelings for Rose. He couldn't control the shift and sway of his emotions, and his heart would always reside with the blonde. He knew it was impossible for them to be together, and that was why he just wanted this one night. One night, to forget who he was, and who she was, and just be people. One night, to let the stresses of his job dissolve into complacency with her. One night, to take a sip of what he could never truly imbibe.

Trixie and Spud were obdurately against it, but in the end, they could not make the final decision for Jake. He would not be deterred. The past few weeks had been taxing on the Am Drag, what with the troll uprising, lots of illegal goblin activity on the magical black market, the massive power outage due to the surge of gremlins that had come to New York, and to top it all of, the Jersey Devil had decided to make a surprise visit. As such, this night of reprise, he needed it, just to clear his head, forget some things, and remember others.

His best friends were left with no other option than to help him. They made sure to keep the whole affair hidden from Grandpa and Fu-dog. Jake felt slightly guilty about that, but it couldn't be helped. If they knew that Jake was planning on taking his nemesis to his senior prom, they would never allow it. The delivering fairy was told to take everything to Haley, who was holding things down for the night. (For a price. The fourteen-year-old drove a hard bargain.)

Rose had been so happy that Jake was breaking his six years of silence to her, that she didn't even think to ask him why he'd been neglecting her in the first place, which was exactly the way he wanted it to be. She'd acquiesced gleefully, and immediately broken her date with Brad.

So here they were, having the time of their lives as it looked. A slow song was on now, and the dragon and the hunter had melded into each other's bodies, swaying slighting. The brunet held the blonde close, stroking her hair as she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

Trixie glowered. This. Wasn't. Right. Jakey hadn't been able to see through Rose the first time. What if, in actuality, she knew his identity, and had something nasty planned for tonight, like a frickin' dragon slayin'? Home-boy was just too gullible when it came to….

"Dude, you're gonna start sprouting greys if you don't stop worrying." Spud chuckled as he said this. Trixie turned to face him, scowl still in place. He had taken out his yo-yo, and was casually weaving it up and down. The black girl opened her mouth to deny it, but decided against it when he glanced at her amusedly. Her boy knew her too well. She sighed.

"I can't help it, man. Jakey don't know what he's doin'."

"Hey, my feelings for this aren't exactly leaning towards the warm, fuzzy and optimistic, but we gotta trust Jake. The boy's gotta do what he's gotta do."

His date scoffed.

"Yeah, and if 'what he's gotta do' turns out to be somethin' on the dumb side a stupid, we're gonna have to bail him out."

Spud shrugged.

"Yeah. And we will. Cause we're his friends."

Trixie, on the verge of saying something, paused, and looked down sheepishly.

"Yeah, you right, you right. I's trippin'. I know, but I can't help it."

"Just relax Trix," he advised her. "Relax." He sounded slightly like a low-rate psychiatrist, and he wasn't doing it on purpose. His trademark, omnipresent goofiness served to clam her down to a degree. "Just be mellow, like me."

"Yeah, yeah, aight."

They lapsed back into silence, Spud yo-yoing pacifically, Trixie biting her lower lip. Time plodded by awkwardly. They watched as the crowd in front of them thickened considerably with dancers. The music was a heavy cloud in the atmosphere between the two friends, urging them to dance, and providing the medium with which to do so, but not supplying the means with which to break the barrier betwixt them.

Spud scuffed the ground with his shoes, and reached behind him to grab something out of a bowl. After Trixie made sure that he put the snack in his mouth, and nowhere else, she asked,

"What's that?"

He shrugged.

"I dunno, but it tastes like marshmallows."

"Gimme some."

He tossed her a few, and she nodded her thanks. They chewed nervously.

The brown-haired boy cleared his throat. He felt anxious, and he didn't know why. Popping another one of the treats in his mouth, he gave his date a peripheral perusal. The girl standing next to him was Trixie, and sure as hell acted like Trixie, but she looked.… different. She was wearing make up, for one. Her hair was straightened, and it flowed around her shoulders elegantly, giving the tomboy a graceful look that she'd never quite had. It unnerved him just a tad.

Spud felt it was time he said something, before the air burst into flames with all the tension sizzling in it.

"Nice dress."

Trixie looked down at her sage-green gown. It was simple; sleeveless with a not-quite-so-daring cowl neck, and pretty ruffles. It wasn't much of a big deal, but she was starting to feel self-conscious now, borderline bashful. She shrugged it off, feeling minimally irritated with herself. This was only Spud, after all.

"Thanks. My moms got it for me. Too tight, though."

"Looks good on you."

"Hn."

Jaron McArthur's new song, Get With It was playing now. The African American girl started tapping her head in sync with the music once again. Finally, the DJ was wising up, and was playing good music.

A commotion near the door captured the two teens' attention. A big blond guy was muscling his way through the crowd, a simpering girl on each arm.

"Move aside people. The Bradster's coming through!"

Trixie rolled her eyes.

"That fool," she muttered. She wondered how much he was paying those two girls. Spud, who was back to doing yo-yo tricks, merely glanced at the boy uninterestedly before going back to what he was doing.

The minutes trudged past. Trixie was beginning to feel edgy and uptight, and she knew if she didn't move soon, she was gonna snap.

It was when Shaniqua's Don't Be Trippin' started to play that she let out a loud hoot. Spud glanced at her, smiling uncertainly, eyebrows raised.

"Aww, yeah, they doin' it ol' school now. C'mon Spud. No way I'm not dancin' ta this one."

Completely forgetting to be uncomfortable or embarrassed, she ensnared his wrist and tugged him towards the dance-floor. He put up little protest, and by the time they were amongst the throng of swaying, sweaty bodies, he was grinning as widely as her.

They slipped into the rhythm easily, bodies turning and twisting to the beat. Trix smiled at her date as they danced; getting closer, pulling apart, touching and brushing occasionally. This felt a whole lot less weird than she'd expected. It felt natural. The lyrics engulfed them.

"Do you remember…" she began.

"Yup," he cut her off. "Concert, Haley, baby-sitting, toothy bad-guys….it was a mess."

She laughed along with him, looking up at the freckled face of her childhood friend.

Jake and Rose twirled past them not too long from then, the dragon throwing his friends a smirk that was a combination of amused, surprised, and sly. They ignored him for the most part. Laughing, the sable-haired boy leant close to Trixie, and asked if that was a blush he saw on her cheeks. He got an astringent glare and almost collected a fist for his trouble.

The time seemed to fly past now, as they just danced, getting lost in the music and having fun.

"Come on ladies, who wants to be the first to dance with the Bradster!"

Trixie heard Brad approaching, but was enjoying herself way too much to pay him any mind. As such, she didn't see the shoulder that shoved her forward as the vain idiot pushed passed rudely. She didn't get the chance to turn around and yell at him either, seeing that – thanks to the convenient upward slant that her head had been in when she was pushed – her lips were now sealed against Spud's.

Somewhere in the background, Jake hooted loudly.

Trixie knew that something was wrong with her when she didn't wrench her mouth away immediately, and only stared featureless into Spud's wide brown eyes. She knew something was up with Spud too when he closed those eyes, and brought an arm around to pull her even closer. And she knew for sure that she was in the Twilight Zone when she closed her eyes too, and started to enjoy it.

An eternity of seconds later, they pulled apart, their lips making an indistinct smacking sound. They stared at each other in contemplation.

"Humph," she said, cocking her head to the side with a thoughtful smirk on her lips.

"Dude," he agreed, nodding dumbly.

They walked back to the buffet table, hand in hand. Somehow, that part didn't feel quite as awkward anymore.

Spud cleared his throat. After searching for something to say, and drawing a blank, he pulled out his yo-yo. Flicking his wrist, he watched the orange toy wheel up and down as he passed his other hand over the flaxen tips of his hair.

Trixie coughed.

"Well," she said, breaking the silence.

"So," he contributed.

"….Is it just me, or did that feel just a bit too good to be…. good?"

"'To tell the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days,'" he recited. Glancing at her, and failing to notice her slack-jawed mien, he added casually, "That's Shakespeare."

Still reeling from the L-word, Trixie didn't reply. She stood stock-still, and her date kept on yo-yoing.

After a while, Spud seemed to become aware of her dazed reticence. Calmly, he pocketed the toy, and went to stand in front of her. Clasping her bare shoulders, he looked into her eyes.

"Trix? What's the matter, girl? Are you alright? Have you gone into shock coma?" With each question, volume of his voice escalated, as did the fabricated panic in it. "Trix? Answer me! Somebody, get her some water! Get a hold of yourself, woman!" He was shaking her shoulders by now. She could only stare at him dazedly, in mute bewilderment.

It was when he went back to stand next her, resuming his yo-yoing serenely, that she burst out laughing. Her boy sure had weird methods, but he could always make her feel better about whatever she was in a funk about. She knew that, no matter what this evolved into, no matter what it became, Spud would always be Spud. And once that was a constant, she didn't think they'd have any problems at all.

She shook her head, still chuckling.

"You crazy Spud. I know it!"

A/N:- Anyone know Rose or Spud's last name? Or Spud's real name for that matter? I'd be grateful. If you've made it this far, please tell me what you think of this. I wanna know how people will receive this kind of story.

However, if anyone so much as mentions the Oracle Twins, I shall go a little bit mad.