Hiya guys! It's a-me, Abby! Kaitlyn (kingdomkeeperwilby3) and I are doing COLLAB ROMANCE ONCE-SHOTS!
*insert screaming audience here*
So here's the first one by me. Take a guess on what ship it is...CHARBECK! (Duh, only my favorite ship of all time)
Next up will be wilby's one shot by Kaitlyn.
"Do you think it'll work?"
"Sure."
"She'll like it?"
"Yeah."
"She loves skating."
"I know, bro, calm down."
Dell Philby sighed at his friend standing outside of his door. Terry Maybeck had been trying to leave his house after major video game fun, but Philby won't shut up about Valentine's Day tomorrow.
Philby maintained intense eye contact. "I'll be fine?"
"You'll be fine. Bye," Maybeck said meaningfully before turning his back on his friend and heading towards his bike.
I don't get it, Maybeck thought, buckling his helmet. Why do guys get so worked up about Valentine's Day? He scoffed, mounting the bike and pedaling back to the shop. For once, I think I'm lucky for being single. He couldn't help but chuckle as he parked the bike in the bike rack, locking it with swift expertise.
"TERRANCE DONALD MAYBECK!" a shrill voice called out as the front door slammed open. Maybeck flinched, not wanting to turn and face his aunt's wrath.
"Hi, Aunt Jelly," he said sweetly, slowly turning to her. Before he could lay his eyes on her, however, his face was hit by flying cloth. He peeled it from his face and looked down. Jelly had thrown his apron at him.
"GET IN HERE!" she said, thrusting her thumb over her shoulder.
Oh. Ohhhhhh. Wow, Maybeck is such an IDIOT! Oh, the dreaded February 13th. The day right before Valentine's Day. The day artists feel the need to make last minute gifts for their significant other.
"Can we get some more paint up here? Red?" a voice instantly called as he ran into the shop, tying his apron around his waist.
"Right away!" Maybeck called over his shoulder, throwing open the cabinet and searching desperately for the red paint. "One of our last jars," he sighed, taking it down before rushing it over to the table.
"Can we get some more brushes over here?"
"A new slab of clay, please?"
"Terry!" Jelly called. "We need to restock the glue!"
To go from calmly riding his bike from Philby's to this chaos was crazy. Maybeck's brain began to spin as he could hear all the requests and orders being thrown at him. Holidays were often busy days at his aunt's art shop, the Crazy Glaze. Maybeck stumbled in a circle before putting both hands to his head.
"Ahh..." he looked around. "Brushes. Right, brushes," he grabbed a handful of brushes and rushed over to a table.
"We asked for clay," one of the artists corrected from under a pair of big glasses. "They asked for the brushes," he pointed at the table to their right.
"Of course," Maybeck sighed, tossing the brushes onto the other table. "I'll be right back with the clay!" he yelled as he rushed into the backroom and slammed the door shut, heaving a large, exhausted sigh. "God, save me now," he grumbled, rubbing his hand across his face tiredly. "Gah..." he moaned, pulling his face away and realizing he just smeared red paint across his face. He wiped the remaining paint from his hand onto his apron as he wandered over to packaged slabs of clay and picked up one the size of a large brick. As the muscle-man he was, it was easy to pick it up. He pulled the phone from his pocket and quickly typed a fast message to Philby. SOS! Store gone crazy.
"I should've stayed at Philby's. We need to hire more employees," he mumbled to himself before pushing the door open with his hip and re-entering the chaos.
He dodged running people, carrying the clay slab with both hands and plopping it down on the desired table. "Here's your clay," he said, wiping his hand across his forehead, leaving streaks of gray clay, like Simba.
"Your face is covered, man," one of the artist said, pointing to his own face.
"Ah, right," Maybeck tried to scrub it off with his forearm, but only ended up making it worse. "If you need anything, just ask," he said as he walked away. Please don't ask, he mentally added with a small, inaudible grunt.
"The glue, Terry!" Jelly called as she rushed past with a tray of new pink paints.
"Right, on it!" he saluted before hearing the door open again, ringing the bell. He groaned and turned to the customer.
"Welcome to the Crazy- Charlie?"
"Crazy Charlie, huh?" Charlene planted her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly the best thing to name a store."
Maybeck drank in the view. Charlene Turner had her blonde hair tucked into a high, perfect ponytail. She wore a pink, skin-tight tank top with blue jean shorts and high-top black converse. As usual, her makeup was on point and she was a vision.
Maybeck was suddenly conscious of how he looked in his work apron. Sweaty and covered in paint.
"You've got a little...something," she motioned to her entire face with a chuckle.
"I don't have time for this," Maybeck shook his head, turning his back on the girl. "What do you want?"
Charlene laughed and followed Maybeck as he swerved through the tables. "You texted Philby asking for help cause it's so crazy today."
"How do you know that?" Maybeck looked over his shoulder as he walked into the backroom.
"He called me," Charlene stated simply, fiddling with the clean paintbrushes. She had never been to the backroom before. "He said he was busy, and he asked if I could help." Charlene looked up at Maybeck with a playful smirk. "So, of course, I came."
"What's the catch?" Maybeck asked, balancing a box of glue on his hip.
"Why do you think there would be a catch? Wouldn't I just like to help my friend out of the kindness of my heart?" Charlene asked sweetly as Maybeck walked briskly past her and out the backroom door. She followed after.
"You would never willingly do anything nice for me, Char," Maybeck snapped brutally, throwing open a cabinet and filling it with glue bottles one by one.
"I'm wounded," Charlene teasingly put both hands to her heart. "It hurts that you think so little of me, Donnie."
"It hurts that you would use my -obviously busy- career for your own needs," Maybeck glared at her.
Charlene giggled, picking up a glue bottle from the box and putting it into the cabinet as well. "Well...I could think of one thing you could do for me..."
"Here it comes," Maybeck groaned.
"Would you possibly be willing to take my patrol in Disney this Saturday?"
"CHARLENE!" Maybeck angrily tossed the now-empty cardboard box into the giant garbage bin. "You know I already have four patrols this weekend!"
"I know, I know," Charlene interrupted, following Maybeck into the backroom once again. "But I have a super important gymnastics meeting that lasts pretty late at night-"
"Say no more, I've heard enough," Maybeck grumbled, checking something off of a piece of paper hanging off the wall. Glue Restocked: February 13th
"Maybeck, please!" Charlene begged.
Maybeck spun around to face the girl, crossing his muscular arms. "I'll do it."
His straightforward response knocked Charlene off-guard. "R-Really?"
"I said I would, didn't I?" Maybeck tossed a garbage back over his shoulder like Santa Claus.
"Thank you so much, Donnie!" Charlene laughed with relief. "So, how can I help?"
"You don't have to help," Maybeck mumbled, trekking his way to the outside Dumpster as Charlene followed like a loyal dog.
Charlene crossed her arms skeptically. "I don't understand you, Donnie."
"Oh, you don't?" Maybeck sarcastically mumbled, opening the back door and entering the alleyway. By the way he spoke, he obviously didn't want to hear what Charlene had to say.
"You're always fighting with me like you hate me," Charlene pointed out. "But then you're always willing to do something for me. Like last week, you took two of my patrols."
"You had a big biology test coming up," Maybeck shrugged, tossing the bag into the Dumpster.
"And then last month you helped with my research paper."
"I was free at the time," Maybeck slammed the Dumpster shut.
"You act all mean and tough, but you're actually a nice guy, Maybeck," Charlene stated seriously. Maybeck froze, holding open the back door. His grip on the door tightened.
"No, I'm not," he said plainly, entering the store once again. Charlene rushed after him, grabbing the back of his shirt. He ignore it and kept on walking.
"Why do you do nice things for me without asking for anything in return?"
"Alright, you wanna pay me back?" Maybeck spun to her and shoved his face into hers, eyebrows narrowed. "Then meet me here tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"If I get your nights, you get my days," Maybeck leaned away from her, pressing his thumb to his chest. "You help out at the Crazy Glaze, and I'll help out with your patrols. Fair?"
"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day!" Charlene whined.
"And like you have plans," Maybeck rolled his eyes.
"I so do have plans!" Charlene put her hands on her hips in a pout.
"Right, and I'm Kanye West," Maybeck snickered. "Help out tomorrow, and I'll take your patrol."
Charlene sighed, running her fingers through her hair in thought. "Fine."
Maybeck grinned widely, excited for the help. "Alright," he grunted, lifting a box and dropping it into her arms. "You can start by taking these dirty brushes and cleaning them."
"W-Wait, I thought I was helping tomorrow!" Charlene protested, doubling over with the weight of the box that Maybeck carried almost effortlessly.
"You offered to help today, remember?" Maybeck poked her in the nose with an evil smirk before sauntering off. "THANKS, CHAR!"
Charlene sighed, shaking her head. "That boy."
The bell by the door rang at 6:00 AM sharp. Maybeck (hating himself for being awake already) turned his attention away from his latest pottery project to see Charlene walking through the door. He pulled his lips back into a snarl.
"Do you think you have enough hearts, Princess?"
Charlene stuck her tongue out at him. On her head she wore pink antennae with hearts on the top. Her shirt was a black tank top speckled with hearts of all sizes and colors. On the bottom half were pink leggings with hearts around the ankles, and her black converse from yesterday. She slipped off her sweatshirt that had a giant red heart on the back.
"Get in the holiday spirit, Macbeth," she shot back.
"Merry Christmas to you too," he joked, rolling his eyes and tossing her an apron.
"Uh...what's this?"
"An apron."
"No, it's an insult to fashion."
"Those antennae aren't much better, Queen of the Martians."
"They're cute! This is not," she shook the dirty apron.
"You want me to take your patrol?" Maybeck leaned forward into her face once again. "Put it on." He flicked her on the forehead for emphasis. She smacked his hand away and held up the apron.
"It's covered in paint!"
"In an ART shop? Imagine that!" Maybeck exclaimed sarcastically.
Charlene groaned but tied it around her waist. "It's hideous."
"Really? I think I'm making it work!" Maybeck put his hands on his hips and model walked across the store.
Charlene laughed out loud, covering her mouth. "Alright, alright! You look great."
"I always do, Sweetheart," he flipped his invisible hair. "Let's go to the backroom."
Charlene followed Maybeck, looking around at the empty shop. "When do you open?"
"Seven," Maybeck answered. "So you have enough time to sort through these," he took down a tray of paint jars, then another, then another. Charlene stared at the three trays in front of her on the counter.
"They're...paints."
"How observant!" Maybeck spat with an eye roll. "You gotta open them up and check if they're empty. If they are, put 'em in here," he shook the trash bag. "If not, leave 'em on the tray."
"Okay, that shouldn't be too hard," Charlene nodded, examining the three trays.
"And when you're done with that, you can do all those," Maybeck turned her attention to a giant case. On every shelf were hundreds (okay slight exaggeration) of trays. Charlene's shoulders dropped.
"Y-You're kidding..."
"You want your gymnastics competition?" Maybeck crossed his arms with a proud smirk. This is what that brat gets for using him!
"God. Alright," Charlene let her head fall into her hands. Maybeck looked over his shoulder, out the backroom door, and sighed before patting Charlene on the back.
"Chin up, Princess, I'll be helping you."
"Really?" Charlene looked up at him happily.
"Sure," Maybeck shrugged and walked past her to the shelves. "I don't want her Royal Snottiness messing everything up."
Charlene watched his back as grabbed another tray. She watched as his back muscles did their thing. Already his shoulders glistened with sweat from the kiln room. That boy, she shook her head disapprovingly. I really don't understand him. One minute, he's the rudest thing ever, the next he's willingly helping me. Why do you hide your kindness, Terry?
"Well," Maybeck interrupted her thoughts, turning back to her and putting his tray down. "Let's get started. We open in an hour."
Charlene sighed and popped open the first bottle. "It's half-way full."
"Which means it's not empty," Maybeck said slowly, as if explaining this to a kindergartener.
"I know what it means!" Charlene snapped, purposefully slamming the bottle back onto the tray. "Don't you have any other employees?"
"Nope. Just Jelly and I," Maybeck shrugged, going through the bottles with speed, skill, and practice. Open, tray, open, toss, open, tray, open, tray.
"So you do this work all by yourself?" Charlene opened her second bottle as Maybeck moved onto the next tray.
"Yeah. But I've gotten pretty good at it," he mumbled, engulfed in his work. Charlene, moving slowly, admired the way he worked. Maybeck had always been a lazy bum to her, and he always will be. But she was in his world now, and he was in his element. Charlene felt a smile tugging at her lips, and she quickly bowed her head, antennae bouncing.
Maybeck took just a second from his work to look up at Charlene. "Your cheeks are as red as the paint."
Charlene kept her head bowed, focusing hard on the paint bottles. "It's just warm in here."
"Are you feeling alright?"
The heat in Charlene's cheeks increased. "There's that niceness again, Donnie," she looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "You're a strange case."
"You're not much better," Maybeck was already halfway through his next tray.
"You know Willa's going out with Philby today."
"I know, he spent the whole day yesterday explaining his plans," Maybeck grumbled.
And they fell silent again. They could hear each other's rhythmic breathing as they worked.
"Ugh, I'm bored," Charlene groaned, putting the paint bottle down.
"It's been ten minutes, Char," Maybeck rolled his eyes. "Shop doesn't open until 7!"
"And then we'll be working all day!"
Maybeck thought for a moment, going through three bottles in three seconds. "Tell you what, I'll convince Jelly to let us have a lunch break today. Wherever you want to go, we can go," he nodded at her before looking back at his bottles, going through four more.
Charlene opened up her fourth bottle. "That's...nice of you."
"No it's not," Maybeck stated on instinct. "I just like food."
Charlene slowly nodded, tossing out the empty bottle. "Right."
"Be back in 40, Jelly!" Maybeck called as they walked out of the shop. "Hey, Charlie?" he looked down at the girl walking beside him on the sidewalk, her antennae bouncing. She looked up at him.
"Yeah?"
"You've got a little something right...there," he motioned to her whole face, quoting her from yesterday. Charlene rolled her eyes.
"So do you," she pointing at his face. Maybeck stopped walking and stepped in front of her, cutting off her path.
"Here," he took something out of his pocket.
"A handkerchief?!" Charlene scoffed. "Can you be any more old fashioned, Donnie?"
Maybeck leaned down and wiped red paint from her cheek. "I'm a classic man," he joked, scrubbing at her cheek. Charlene tensed under his touch. For the huge boy, his grasp was surprisingly gentle, one hand on her shoulder and the other wiping the paint from her face.
"Your turn," she swiftly took the handkerchief and began to wipe off his face. He had to bend down so much his thighs began to burn.
"Where are we headed?" he asked as she shook out the handkerchief and handed it back to him.
"I'm not too hungry, so let's stop by the Marble Slab for some ice cream."
Soon enough, the two of them were walking back to the shop, armed ice cream cones.
"Back to work," Maybeck reminded her, finishing off his cone like an animal while Charlene still ate hers delicately.
"Ugh, that's right," Charlene groaned. It was so nice to quickly run out for ice cream. For the entirety of their forty-minute break, they had not fought. At all. It was great.
But Charlene was confused. Boy, was she confused. Lately, she had been noticing the boy's kindness, a trait she had never noticed before.
"Maybeck?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you hide your niceness?"
"I'm not nice," Maybeck said without a moment's hesitation. Charlene noticed that they were starting to near the shop, so she stopped, right in the middle of the sidewalk, and crossed her arms. "What?" Maybeck stopped as well.
"Why not?"
Maybeck groaned, annoyed to be going through this again. "Because someone on our team has to be the tough one!"
"Nice doesn't necessarily mean weak, Terry," Charlene pointed out.
"But it usually does," Maybeck shrugged.
"You're nice," Charlene jabbed her finger in his chest.
"I am not!"
"You are so!"
"No, I'm not! You're an egotistic, annoying brat! There, is that nice?!"
Charlene gasped, appalled.
"That's right, I said it!"
"Y-You're a melodramatic attention whore!"
"And YOU'RE a show-off!"
"Selfish jerk!"
"Pesky witch!"
"Needy womanizer!"
"Lazy bum!"
"UGH! I hate you!"
"I hate you more!"
"Then why do you always help me?!"
"Why do you always come to me for help?!"
"Because I hate you!"
"I hate you too!"
Charlene and Maybeck both started to run out of breath.
Maybeck growled, moving his face close to Charlene's. "You're a girl who can't do one job right!"
"You're a boy who is mean to everyone just to look 'tough'! News flash: YOU DON'T!"
"UGH! And you're a girl that always tries to get out of patrols!"
"And you're the boy that complains all the way through!"
"You drive me crazy!"
"You drive me crazIER!"
"GAH!"
"GAH!"
"Why did I even let you help out at the shop?! You're useless!"
"And you're a jerk!"
"You're annoying!"
"You're sickening!" Charlene stepped back.
"I'm DONE!" Maybeck threw his arms up and began to storm away. "Have fun patrolling on Saturday!"
"GET BACK HERE!"
"YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN!" Maybeck yelled over his shoulder.
"MAYBECK!" Charlene ran and grabbed the back of his shirt and spun him around.
Maybeck's eyes widened, and his head began to spin. What on Earth is going on? How did he get here? When did this happen?!
Charlene's lips were pressed aggressively against his.
Before he could react, Charlene pulled out of the kiss and turned to leave angrily. Maybeck grabbed her wrist with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her into another, longer kiss. Charlene's arms wormed their way around Maybeck's neck, pulling him in. Two pairs of eyes fluttered shut, one pair blue as the sky and one as dark as the night. A boy in all black and a girl in hearts, all the way up to the bouncing antennae. They kissed and kissed on the sidewalk, a block away from their destination, until finally they had to come up for breath.
Charlene couldn't wipe the smile from her face. "So..." she put her hand on his chest. "You'll take my patrol on Saturday?"
Maybeck rolled his eyes. "Fine," he turned and began to walk back to the shop, but not before he sassily plucked the heart antennae from Charlene's head and placed it on his own.
Charlene took a moment to watch the boy walk away from her before she shook her head. "You're nice!"
"I'm not!" he called.
Charlene just chuckled. "Alright. Sure." She rolled her eyes before rushing to catch up with him. She leaped and grabbed the antennae off of his head and began to sprint down the street. "CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!"
"IT'S ON, PRINCESS!" Maybeck began to run after her.
So, tell us what you think in the reviews! The next few will be Valentine's Day themed, but we can take romance requests too! Because YAY ONE SHOTS!