AN: I am now founder/co-president of the Preston Is The Bomb fan club. He's like the GG version of Seth Cohen.
And really, no Preston/Macey fics yet? Geez.
prompts: potato chips, x-men, and days of the week. (courtesy of em)
PS: the timeline to this is kinda messy, but go with it.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
Monday;
"Hey, Macey," Preston Winters greeted at a dinner rehearsal. At the moment, he and about every major person involved with his father's campaign were situated in the McHenry mansion. For a home that only suited three people, it could very well rival the White House. But, the size of her house wasn't the issue. No, it was the fact that Macey was like a human hit-on-come-on reflector. No matter what compliment or joke he said to her, she was always prepared with a comeback and eye roll.
But, at least he tried, right?
"Preston," she sneered, fiddling with her cast. What happened on the roof that night only made him want to go out with her even more.
(Seeing as his plan to vaguely suggest to Mrs. McHenry that a date between the candidate's children would be an excellent publicity stunt, failed.)
"What, you're not going to tell me to go kiss a baby? You're losing your charm, Mace," he said. According to the magazines that Macey practically inhaled, "light teasing was a surefire way to flirt."
Out of no where, Clipboard Lady and her trusty itinerary pushed through the crowd to announce that everyone must sit down and practice the "spontaneous toast to freedom". But, Macey smirked evilly and said, "you never even had charm, buddy. So, suck it." With that, she sat promptly next to her mother and plastered a smile that looked like it would break her face.
Any other boy would pack up and call defeat.
Preston Winters smiles because an insult is better than silence.
Tuesday;
Between attending school and faking her way through the campaign trail, Macey lost bits and pieces of herself by day. Soon, she would be calling herself "new Macey", "spy Macey", and "old Macey".
Spy Macey wakes up exactly on the dot and grudgingly puts on the school uniform. She works twenty four/seven in her classes so she can catch up with her best friends, and even be equal. Never one to be a good student, spy Macey surprisingly gets A's and teachers love her. She has friends, family even. The fact that she could kill a man twice her size is just a bonus.
New Macey wakes up whenever Clipboard Lady tells her to and wears whatever her mother says. She says everything exactly as it's written on her note cards, and she became more of a puppet than a girl.
Old Macey would wake up at noon and go have sushi for brunch. She would lounge around her pool reading Glamour and paint her toenails in wild colors. She would even go running to the park, if she really felt like it. Most of all, old Macey loved Buckley's Old Fashioned Potato chips, mainly because they were delicious and rare. That was her main diet: sushi and Buckley's chips. But, her mother told her at a rally that "she could stand to lose a few pounds", so she and Buckley's chips were no longer friends.
So, she's surprised when Preston of all people walked into her hotel suite Tuesday morning, with a huge bag of Buckley's chips and a slight smile.
"I heard you liked these," he explained simply, and promptly walked away.
I heard you liked these, the words echoed in her ears and she decided that those were the best five words she had heard during this election.
Wednesday;
For some reason, Preston got more tolerable to Macey each day. Before she couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him, and now that could have a conversation. In private, of course. Macey didn't want to give the press any ideas.
"On the roof that night," he began, as they got situated on the campaign bus. This was their ritual: Macey reads her magazine, and Preston has his comics. "You and your friend kicked some major—"
She scoffed, she had gotten his praise far too many times. "Preston, I know. I'm over it, so get over it."
And he did, for at least a couple minutes. Finally, he blurted, "you two are like superheroes." Close enough.
"You don't know the half of it," Macey snorted, her voice dripping with irony. If only he knew, if only he really knew. Spies and superheroes were practically interchangeable.
"Quick, if you were a superhero, who would you be?" He shot up in his seat and eagerly thumbed through his worn X-Men comic.
Pretending to contemplate this question with a frown (Bex's theatrics were rubbing off on her), she cleared her throat. "If I were a superhero, I would definitely be Storm," she stated with a straight face.
"Why?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Because," Macey glanced out the window, " she's in total control. Of weather. And her life." Out of all the people in the world, Preston was the only person would could completely understand that part most of all.
For a split second after, she swore she heard "she's my favorite" from him.
Thursday;
More and more, Macey's friends were popping out of nowhere. In any other situation, Preston would have shrugged this off and tried to get to know her (attractive) girlfriends, but this wasn't any other situation. Macey only socialized with him in private, leaving him to be completely alone during one of the campaign parties.
"The press wants the image of a young, happy first son. So, get out and start being happy," Clipboard Lady seethed, pushing Preston into the crowd of people and muttering something like "I need an aspirin".
Macey and her friend (Cammie, he assumed), were gabbing near the punch bowl like this was a sappy school dance. With a sigh, he started talking to his father's various friends and colleagues, were dead set on making sure the press knew of his dad's plans for America. How fun.
Maybe, he was never even meant to talk to a girl like Macey, let alone be friends. She was in a whole different world of secrets and smirks, and he was on a planet that hadn't been discovered yet—but was surely abandoned.
But then, he felt an elbow jab into his side—too harsh to be an accident. He turned to face Macey, who looked him dead in the eye and said, "out of my way, freak," and strolled off to her friends.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny grin on her face, and that made the pain (she really jabbed hard) all worthwhile.
Friday;
Macey and trains didn't mix.
The constant jumbling and shaking was a recipe for sickness, and a bucket was handy at all times. Abby, her security personnel, was too busy filing her nails with what looked to be a nail file, but what was actually a dagger. Five minutes passed, and she announced that she was going to be gone for "exactly four minutes, so don't mess anything up."
"Knock knock," said a voice softly, and Preston opened the door with a flourish. Macey was about to tell him to stay, so she wouldn't be stuck with Abby the CIA nutcase, but the look in his eye made it clear he wasn't planning to visit.
He handed her a fresh piece of blue paper. "New itinerary, we're going to be doing interviews tomorrow. Joy," he mused sarcastically.
"You're telling me," she scoffed, secretly happy that they both hated this "political process"—which usually included sleepless nights and lost identities.
But, something was different. At this point, Preston would try to use a lame line on her or try to seem like he had a shred of coolness in his bones. Instead, he seemed bored and apathetic, like he could really care less if she payed attention to him or not.
And that made all the difference.
Before he stepped out of the room, she called out, "hey, Preston?" Inhale, exhale. She couldn't believe she was about to do this.
He turned on his heel to face her. "Yeah?"
With that, she practically lunged at him. She grabbed hold of his neck, and before he could even register what was going on—they were kissing. It wasn't until Macey got over her initial shock of being so forward, she realized that he smelled good, he was a better kisser than she thought, and she was—really!—actually kind of enjoying this.
"You can go now," Macey exclaimed, as they broke free. Her hair was a mess and her pale face was flushed. Nervous shock waves erupted in her body, and gravity was a word she didn't know.
Preston, on the other hand, was nearly shaking. Macey stifled a grin at him, mainly because she felt eons better and knew that she gave her geek something to talk about. "Woah," she heard him mumble as he stumbled out of her train compartment.
Within seconds after Preston left the room, Abby poked her head back into her compartment. "You're red," she observed, and Macey was so filled with butterflies that she couldn't form a proper comeback. "Do you have something to tell me?"
Falling back into her couch with a light smile, Macey knew that everything had changed. "Nope, nothing at all," she stated.
Nothing at all, when it was so, so much more. An ordinary boy, an extraordinary girl, and one crazy, rule-filled life.
And if you really thought about it, that made all the difference.
crap. crap. crap. The ending sucked, didn't it? Oh well, at least I had a good time writing it. This is dedicated to all of you fabulous people who helped me and all of you fabulous reviewers.
Yep, I'm pretty much not updating after this. Tomorrow, I'm going to Egypt (!!) to visit family, and I'm going to be gone for a month. So, all of my stories are on hold. I'm really sorry guys, school only just finished and track was a killer season. But, when I'm back, I promise to update everything. Running in Rain and Some Like It Hot and Starlight; not to mention more oneshots!
So, reviews would totally make my day :D
--asha (:
