A/N: Happy belated Thanksgiving to all you wonderful, wondrous, brilliant people! I'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I'm going to put it out there because I'm not quite sure how to fix it. It's a little stilted, but the premise is that Austin never realized he liked Ally/so the Kira relationship ran its natural course/now they're seniors, both single, but she loves him and he's terribly oblivious. It'll probably be pretty short.

As always, let me know what y'all think!

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."

-Charlie Brown

It's three in the morning; Austin and Ally have been in the practice room for hours, working on a new song. There's a particularly difficult chord progression Austin just can't sort out, and he throws the sheet music to the floor in frustration, banging his head against the keyboard repeatedly.

Curled up on the couch, Ally looks up from her songbook, amused. "You doing okay there, Austin?"

All she gets is a muffled groan. She laughs as she untangles herself from the pile of pillows on the couch. Sliding herself next to him on the bench, she gently shifts his hands off the piano. "Here. Try this."

Austin looks up as Ally's hands coax a crooning melody from the piano. It's perfect, exactly what he'd been trying to figure out, and he's equal parts grateful and dazed, dazed at this girl and her capacity to understand his music.

"You are a miracle worker." He grins at her sleepily as she writes down the notes. "I don't know how I'd do this without you, Ally."

She shrugs. Her voice is lighthearted as she replies. "What can I say. I do what I do."

Austin yawns as he leans onto Ally's shoulder. "Can we go to bed now? We're practically done."

She nudges him fondly as she gets up. "Okay sleepyhead. Time to go home."

He wraps his arms around her waist to keep her on the piano bench and shakes his head stubbornly. "Moving takes too much effort."

Ally sighs, but doesn't try to extract herself from his grasp. "I guess you can sleep on the couch here. It'll definitely be more comfortable than that first all-nighter, when you fell asleep on the counter downstairs."

Austin wrinkles his nose at the memory. "Yeah, and you woke me up with cymbals. The worst wakeup call ever."

She laughs, her breath sloping across his cheek as she turns to him. "But we finished the song."

She sings the first few bars of the chorus to Break Down the Walls softly. Her voice is silvery and she smells like vanilla and ink, and Austin finds himself absently pressing a kiss against the dip in her collarbone. Ally immediately stills, turning to look at him with wide eyes. Her hair is tumbling around her shoulders and there's moonlight spilling across her skin Austin wonders for a moment how Ally can be sososo beautiful at three in the morning, before he tangles his hands in her hair and kisses her. She melts into the kiss immediately, and for a few pristine, untarnished seconds, they're just AustinandAlly tangled in starlight and music and each other. Then Ally leans back, just a little, and hits the corner of the piano. The jangling notes jar them back into focus and Austin jumps up, nervously running a hand through his hair as he starts rambling.

"I'm so sorry I did that, Ally. It's late, and you were there, and the light, and your hair was shiny and you smelled really good and the song worked out and it just kind of happened but this doesn't have to change anything. We don't have to change."

Austin thinks that he sounds more like he's trying to talking himself into believing it's possible to forget about this. About kissing his best friend. About an irreversible shift in the dynamic of their friendship. He almost succeeds in convincing himself it was the sleep deprivation and the moonlight, when Ally replies, voice trembling.

"What if I want it to change?"

"W-What?" Austin's voice is startled.

Ally looks down at her hands, tangling her fingers in the folds of her skirt. "That kiss? What just happened? That meant something to me. Something more than just three A.M. and sleep deprivation and finished duets." She smiles wistfully. "And I know that I'm putting everything on the line right now on the off chance that you feel even remotely close to how I feel. But I think it might be worth the risk, Austin. I think we might be worth the risk." She looks up at him with tentative hope shining in her eyes. "What do you say?"

Austin's head spins. Ally's been his best friend for years now, and he can't imagine life without her. But this is completely out of left field and he's not quite sure what to do with himself, what to say to her. If he's being perfectly honest with himself, he's imagined dating Ally before: quiet moments at the park, in Sonic Boom, eating pancakes and pickles, and singing. Always singing. But it's the singing that's tripping him up now. Their careers are skyrocketing, they're seniors going off to college, and he doesn't know how a relationship would affect their partnership-or more importantly, their friendship.

"Ally, I..." He trails off. There's a painstakingly long silence before he continues. "I don't want us to change." And for the briefest of moments, he believes himself, until he sees Ally's eyes shutter close.

"Is it so awful that I love you?"

"It's terrifying." His reply is barely audible, but the words send Ally reeling with the impact of a freight train.

"I guess that's that, then." She tucks her songbook into her bag and stands up from the piano bench. "I'm sor-Austin, I'm sorry I told you." She shrugs ruefully. "I know how uncomfortable you get with grand proclamations of love. I just thought-well, it doesn't matter." She swings the bag onto her shoulder and preoccupies herself with neatening the sheet music on top of the piano. "But hey, at least no one's orange and sweaty this time, right?"

"Ally." Austin doesn't know what else to say, so he just repeats her name again. "Ally." He feels like he's losing her: and along with her, losing something precious and fleeting and ephemeral.

"You can stay here, if you still want to." She smiles and turns, running straight into the doorknob. "Oops." She pulls the door open and slides into the gloom of the hallway. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?" She waves awkwardly and closes the door. It clicks shut softly behind her.

Austin stares at the door for a few minutes. He's not entirely certain how, in the work of a few moments, he managed to screw up the best friendship he's ever had.

"I'm sorry."

He says to the empty room. And as he drags himself over to the couch, he realizes he's not quite sure who the apology was meant for: his writing partner, his best friend, or maybe himself. Sorry for refusing to acknowledge the remote possibility that he might love her back.

"So what's up with you and Ally?"

Austin closes his locker just as Dez pops up out of nowhere.

"What?"

Dez repeats himself as he prods Austin in the shoulder. "What's going on with you and Ally?"

"What makes you think something is going on?" Austin opens his locker again to avoid making eye contact with his best friend.

Dez stares at him. "Well, first of all, you've been wandering around all day like someone told you about a world pancake shortage. She doesn't look much better. You've been avoiding her like the plague, and the kicker? The two of you haven't written together for four days. That's essentially three years in Austin and Ally time."

Austin winces. "Is it that obvious?"

The redhead nods. "So tell the love whisperer what's up."

"It's not about love though. It's not."

Dez raises his eyebrows. "Okay. Whatever you say. But something did happen?"

"It's nothing." Austin slams his locker shut and turns to his best friend. "Really. Nothing she won't get over."

Dez whistles. "Harsh."

Austin runs a restless hand through his hair and sighs. "Just leave it alone, Dez."

Dez shrugs. "If you need me buddy, I'm here." He pauses. "Want to talk about your new music video?"

Austin nods, turning to walk with Dez towards their first period class.

"What's going on with you and Ally?"

Ally hears her name from around the corner and stops abruptly. She was going to get her books from her lockers when she caught Dez's voice. She hasn't seen Austin in a week, not since the night in the practice room. She's trying to give him his time; it's not every day your best friend tells you she's in love with you. But the longer he's been avoiding her, the more she's begun to think that maybe he just doesn't care at all. She recognizes that she imagined all the weighted moments and meaningful glances; her stomach curls in embarrassment as she thinks about how she convinced herself there was even the remotest possibility that Austin might love her back. And now; now she wonders if their partnership can withstand this. If he cares enough to try. She pulls herself back into focus as Dez says something again.

"So tell the love whisperer what's up."

"It's not about love though. It's not."

Her heart stutters at the reminder. dissonance.

"Okay. Whatever you say. But something did happen?"

Ally holds her breath for Austin's answer. crescendo.

"It's nothing. Really." diminuendo.

The slam of a locker and a friendship crumbling.

"Nothing she won't get over."

fin.

That afternoon, Austin finally works up the courage to go to Sonic Boom. Ally's sitting behind the register, like every other day, and she's scribbling in her songbook. The normality of the scene brings a smile to Austin's face, and for the first time, he thinks that maybe things can go back to the way they were. Maybe it was just the exhilaration of an all-nighter and a finished song that had made Ally think she was in love with him. Maybe she isn't in love with him at all. Austin feels a twinge at the thought, but dismisses it as just a stomachache. It's selfish to want her to love him when he doesn't love her back. right?

He pulls himself back into focus when he realizes he's reached the counter. Ally hasn't looked up yet, so he reaches over and taps her knee.

"Hey."

"Long time no see." Her voice isn't accusatory at all: just resigned, and Austin realizes that no matter how much he was dreading anger, resignation is so much worse.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I was just sorting through some stuff. You know." Austin's voice drifts as Ally stands, brushing eraser off her jeans. She still hasn't looked at him. "Can we talk?"

"I'm actually kind of busy with the store right now. Can it wait?" Ally busies herself with the contents of the cash register, swallowing back the urge to say yes, because she knows it'll come out as yes, let's talk, let's be friends, let's forget that I love you and you think that's nothing, let's talk about how you're walking away and my heart is breaking.

Austin looks around Sonic Boom. There are no customers, and he knows that Lester's going to be at a guitar-pick-decorating convention the entire weekend.

"Actually, it can't."

Ally raises her eyebrows as she finally meets his eyes.

"Okay then. Let's talk." The words are clipped, steely enough that Austin takes a step back. Talking with Ally has always felt like a song, the words to a dance he didn't even know he knew. Now the music's changed and he doesn't know what to do. And as Ally turns sharply towards the stairs, Austin thinks something is definitely not right.

Ally shuts the door of the practice room and walks towards the piano, eyes fixated on a scratch in the enamel.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Austin moves to stand next to her. "You know. Sunday night. The kiss."

There's a long pause before Ally replies. "I thought you wanted to forget about it." Her tone is strange; Austin knows almost every nuance of Ally's voice, but this is one he hasn't heard, and it throws him off.

"I mean, yes. No. Yes. Maybe?" Austin whooshes out a slow breath. "I just want things to be okay with us."

"Things are okay. We're fine, Austin. Don't worry about it." Austin thinks absently that Ally's never lied to him before. Not until now.

"We're obviously not. Ally, you won't even look at me."

She finally looks up. Her eyes are steely, as if she's wavering on the brink of tears, and Austin doesn't know what to do.

"It'll be fine, Austin." Ally's reply is hollow. Her eyelashes cast silken shadows across her cheekbones as she looks back down. Austin's heart clenches. He shifts towards Ally, hand outstretched, but she takes a step back. The silence is heavy, cold and still. Then Austin reaches for her again, voice pleading.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you for a couple days, but please don't shut me out, Ally. Why are you so upset? What did I do?"

She sinks into his embrace for a second before she tilts her head back up to meet his gaze. Tears shimmer in her eyes, but her voice is steady as she replies.

"Nothing. Nothing I won't get over."

Austin breathes in sharply. The words sound so much worse in the tired lilt of her voice. And watching her fall to pieces in front of him, he can't for the life of him remember why he'd said them. He smooths a protective hand down her back and pulls her closer, as if he can just holdherandholdherandholdher until she stops looking like she's going to come flying apart.

But it's too late.

"I'll still be your songwriter, Austin. I'll still be your friend. I just-" Ally closes her eyes for a moment, then steps out from the circle of his arms with a sigh. "I need some space."

"Stay." Austin's voice cracks. "We can talk about this. Please, Ally."

Ally slides a hand over his shoulder and lifts herself up onto her toes, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. She tastes like staccato heartbeats, clarity and endings, and Austin breathes her in just as she backs away with a sad smile.

"I don't think I have anything left to say to you, Austin. I think I'm finally just...just done."

Then before he can react, in the flurry of a splintered goodbye, Ally's gone. And Austin's left standing in the empty practice room again, wondering when it all went wrong.

Next time: Trish helps Austin out of his oblivion. Austin does a little soul-searching. And some other stuff I haven't figured out yet. Oy vey.