A/N: This has been banging around in my head for a while and finally needed to come out so I could make sense of the timeline. It's long overdue.

Je T'aime

"…I love you."

The words were like signals to her feet, making her bounce as she skipped through the mall. Amy had saved her the message her then-ex-boyfriend, and now current beloved boyfriend, had left on her cell phone the night of her son's first birthday. They'd reunited before she left for the special music program the school counselor, Dr. Bink, had gotten her into and she had never been happier. Every day since she'd been in New York, she'd replay the message, usually four or five times a day, at minimum.

"…I love you."

The words felt like a firework in her chest. It was hard to concentrate on the music program when all she could think about was Ben Boykewich; throwing her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, kissing his lips, and hearing him whisper those words into her ear again. Not via a cell phone, but with his honest to goodness lips brushing against her earlobe. The thought itself was almost enough to send her over the edge.

As she hovered her finger over the button to reply the voicemail again, her eyes caught one of the electronic advertisement boards change from a giant Jamba Juice Mango Madness smoothie to a larger than life Asian model in ruby colored lingerie. Amy stopped abruptly and squinted, thinking that the woman looked like she could be a Victoria's Secret angel. Then, as she drew closer, she realized that the advertisement wasn't for Victoria's Secret, but some kind of store selling like-garments. She didn't recognize the name. "But considering it's in New York and they're fashion conscious, it's probably something that's only available here."

As she moved in for a closer look, her eyes caught the swirling calligraphy on the font: Je T'aime. She frowned, figuring it must be something in French, because that's what it looked like anyway. Quickly, she snapped her cell phone shut and then back open, before logging onto her cellular web browser. A few minutes later – curse her phone for being so slow – she had pulled up Google Translate and typed the phrase into the search box. She tapped her foot as the loading bar drug itself across the screen, closer than a turtle swimming through molasses. Finally, it returned her results: I love you.

Amy's heart pounded. "Well if that's not a sign," she mused. "I don't know what is!" As she lifted her brown eyes back to the advertisement to see where she could find the store, it began to change again. "No! No, no!" She slapped her hand against the ad, but to no avail. This time it changed to a jewelry store ad, picturing some glittery emerald necklaces and amethyst earrings. She stared at it for a moment, briefly imagining Ben slipping a necklace like that around her neck, and then shook off the vision.

Amy swirled around. The mall was huge! She had seen it from across the street and had really only come in to window shop. Everything in New York was so goddamn expensive, she couldn't see herself actually buying anything there. But somehow, that ad had managed to speak to her. Ironically, it was the last ad on Earth she would've ever imagined herself being taken by, especially considering her first and only prior experience with sex. She quickly – and violently – shuddered at the thought.

Sex with Ricky Underwood had been an utter nightmare. It hadn't occurred to her then, but looking back on it was twenty-twenty, as they say: after all the rattling on she did, he'd been so restless to get her onto the couch and make her stay. Even as the warning she'd received from the girl in the cafeteria had echoed in her brain, she didn't stop Ricky as he tugged her underwear down. She never imagined it would have gone that far, and then before she knew it: pain! Her eyes stung and the blood rushed to her ears, but Ricky didn't seem to care. And then it was over. He was pulling up his pants and she was still squished into the cushions, trying to figure what the hell had just happened.

Amy wrapped her arms around her chest. The memories of that one night at band camp were ones she wish she could forget. "If only I'd waited…" But then she mentally kicked herself. She loved her son, even if the only reason he had happened was because of a horrible choice. And Ben loved John too. That was one of the best things about Ben, that he loved her – and John, even without John having to be his at the age of fifteen – unconditionally. She often wished that Ben had been her first; John's father. Everything would be in synch if that were the case. "And Ben would've cared, he would've been gentle, he wouldn't have…"

Her words faded out as she tried to recreate John's conception in her mind, replacing Ricky's face with Ben's. She imagined Ben's sweet kisses and the awkward fumbling of his hands. She imagined the worried looks and him asking her over and over if he was hurting her, because he would've cared. Losing her virginity to Ben might not have been exactly like the movies either, but it would've come a damn sight closer.

"And he wouldn't have just up and left afterward either." That was one of Amy's favorite things about Ben, the way he cuddled with her and held her like she was the most precious of sacred jewels. She bit her lip and sighed, almost wishing she could just go home tomorrow, so she could crawl onto the couch with her boyfriend and fall asleep with her head against his chest. With a breathy sigh, she flipped her phone open again and dialed one for her voicemail. As she headed towards the escalators, she punched her thumb against the buttons until Ben's voice was playing in her ear again.

"…I love you."

"I love you too."

Amy woke up early the next morning, hours before her alarm clock was set to go off on a normal day. Strangely, it was a Saturday, and she was always sleeping in on Saturdays. It was barely light outside when she opened her eyes and released a deep throated yawn from her smiling lips. She had been dreaming of Ben again, being back home with him and out on a romantic date by the fountain, where he had proposed to her. It was one of those rare dreams that she was able to remember all the details of, such as when Ben kissed her beneath the spray of the fountain and she'd slid her hands beneath his shirt to feel the warmth of his skinny torso.

She shook herself off. "Maybe that's why people need cold showers?" she mused, while throwing the covers off. Her eyes caught her laptop as she moved towards the kitchenette and she paused, debating whether or not to sign online. Amy clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and hit the power button on her computer, before moving into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of cold milk and retrieving the Oreo cookies from the cupboard. But as much as she loved them, she found herself yearning for wings in a picnic basket and 7-Up in a champagne glass.

With a lonely sigh, she dropped four Oreos into her milk and then moved to her laptop and typed in her password. The laptop dinged and she slid into her seat, set her junk food breakfast aside, and opened up her web browser. First she checked her inbox: empty. Then she checked her instant messenger, but nobody was online. "No, of course not, they're all three hours behind and I shouldn't even be up yet." She rolled her eyes at her stupidity.

Then, as an afterthought, she pulled up the Google browser and hovered her hands over home row. It was funny, one of the details she remembered from her dream had been the black evening gown she was wearing and when Ben had accidentally pushed the sleeve off her shoulder, the ruby strap of the lingerie beneath had caught his attention. As the groggy gears of her mind began to grind, she recalled the lingerie ad from the day before. "No wonder I dreamt I was wearing that." She licked her lips, trying to recall what the French words had been on the advertisement. "'I love you,' because it was the same as Ben's voicemail."

Her fingers blew against the keys as she typed I love you into Google: 1,350,000,000 hits. When nothing looked familiar, she clicked on the search box and added onto her original search. I love you, New York lingerie: 20,000,000 hits. Finally, she clicked between New York and lingerie and added the word French: 1,313,000 hits. As she scrolled down the page, Je T'aime caught her eye.

"Aha!" She aimed her cursor at the link and clicked onto it. Photos of gorgeous bikini-esq models of all styles and creeds began to appear on the screen, dressed in the various designs of lingerie. "'Try our new I Love You Collection now, sale ends Sunday.'" Amy narrowed her eyes. "Just what kind of prices are we looking at here anyway?" Her eyes scanned the page, wondering if some skinny sixteen-year-old like herself could even pull off French lingerie like the models on screen. Then her eyes fell on the corner of the screen: Find a store near you!

After a beat of hesitation, she punched in her zip code and the site returned one address. "What could it hurt?" With a shrug, she clicked on the address, bringing up the directions, and then clicked the option to Send to Cell. As the option began to load, she picked up her glass of milk and scooped out a now soggy Oreo with her spoon. The milk clouded with wet Oreo crumbs as she sucked on the first Oreo, then her cell finally began to vibrate on its charger, alerting her to the fact that it had received her requested instructions. She quickly ate the remaining three Oreos, downed the remainder of her milk, and tossed the glass into the drainer with some hot water and soap to soak before jetting off to the bathroom to take a shower.

The coast was clear, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from habitually looking over her shoulder anyway. It wasn't like Madison or Lauren might pop up unexpectedly in the middle of New York and go blab to the whole school that she was buying sexy French lingerie. But still. "What if someone from the program sees you? Maybe you're an idiot?" She looked over her shoulder again, but the only people she saw were women in their early twenties to late thirties, picking through the sale racks.

Amy drew in a cleansing breath and held her chin up as she marched over to the sale rack, marked with a big sign reading Je T'aime, punctuated by red hearts in the background. She used the palms of her hands to spread out the hangers of lingerie. "What size do I even where in this stuff?" she asked herself under her breath. There were so many colors and so many styles, her head felt like it was bobbing in the middle of a sloshing ocean. "Small? No, no small, these are actual sizes-"

"Ah, here for our Je T'aime sale? Can I help you?"

Amy froze and turned with a awkward grin, showing all her teeth like a shark. "Uh…I just…I was…I m-m-mean I-"

The sales clerk looked her up and down. "What are you shopping for?" she asked pleasantly.

"My…uh…boyfriend?" She mentally kicked herself for the words coming out sending like a question. Then, without really thinking about it, she whipped out her cell phone and flashed it towards the woman, revealing a photograph of her and Ben.

The sales clerk nodded with a knowing grin and strode around the rack, picking up a hanger every now and then, before making her way back to Amy and handed her the findings. "Why don't you start out with these?" she suggested. "See if any suit your fancy." She winked.

"Thanks…" Amy murmured awkwardly. She snatched up the undergarments and fled towards the changing room. Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it breathlessly. "What am I doing? I can't even afford these anyway." From the corner of her eye, she noticed a sparkle from the sequins on one of the garments. "But…it can't hurt just to try them on, right?"

Amy dropped her purse onto the hook and shed her clothes before trying on the first burgundy bra and panties set. Immediately, she stripped them off, knowing that they were too skimpy for her tastes and made her feel more exposed than she wanted to, kind of like the way she had when she lost her virginity. Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, she tried on the next outfit, which was something in a sky blue and trimmed in rhinestones. It felt more comfortable, but the rhinestone straps gouged into her shoulders. The third had a red top that was styled like a corset and the underwire gouged into her sides when she exhaled. Finally, she slipped on the last set: classic satin and lace in black and carnation pink. It was as if Adrian's and Grace's wardrobes had collided. But it felt good and it had a dainty little pink bow between her breasts that she rather liked.

As Amy studied herself in the mirror, she tried to imagine Ben behind her and seeing what he would say about it. In her mind's eye, he couldn't get his eyes off her. She smiled at the fantasy. "This is the one." It was a surprise when her own ears heard her words. Yes, she'd offered to have sex with Ben before, back when she was pregnant, but she'd been uncomfortable with the idea since John's birth. Not because of Ben, but because she mostly feared the idea of getting pregnant again. She could see herself with Ben and John and maybe a daughter and another son in the far distant future and she liked that, but not until after college, at least. But in spite of that, there was a nagging part of her that wanted to know what sex might be like with Ben: the boy she really loved, the one she had given her heart to. She might have given her body to Ricky – accidentally – but her heart would always belong to Ben.

That decided, Amy slipped back into the hip huggers and baby doll top she'd arrived and lugged her purse and the one lingerie outfit up to the counter. The sales clerk who had helped her at the rack waited on her and as she rung up the purchase, Amy retrieved her debit card from her purse.

"Find everything you looking for?"

Amy swiped her debit, which she had received just before she left for New York and swore she'd only use for something really important. "Yeah," she grinned, as the keypad asked for her four digit pin. "I definitely found what I was looking for…the first day of Freshman year." Her fingers punched in the numbers four, five, nine, and two: ILYB.

With the transaction complete, she collected her dainty red bag containing Ben's surprise – she had no idea yet when she'd share it with him – and headed out of the store. She replayed the way the sales woman had pronounced their sale in her mind and by the time she got to the bus stop, nobody was there yet. Amy sat down on the vacant bench, pulled out her cell, and dialed Ben's number. His voicemail picked up and at the beep she said simply, "Je T'aime."