Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it.
A/N: So, this is my first time writing... anything, really. I just am doing these fanfics to become a better writer and because I hate journaling. I know there are lots of Flack/OCs out there, but I thought this would make a good story. And I'm sick of all the DL stuff floating around. Review only if you feel like it. Hakuna Matata. Oh, I was listening to a weird combination of music while writing this (Panic! At The Disco, Rascal Flatts, Shania Twain, Avril Lavigne, Relient K, and the Pirates of the Carribbean soundtrack) and it was also very late at night so it might have turned out really dumb. The second chapter is done. I'm not sure if I will post it yet. What do you think? The first few chapters aren't supposed to have a plot, they're just introducing the characters and the background. The lyrics at the beginning are from "Supergirl" performed by Krystal Harris. This is sort of the 'theme song' for the character Lizzie. The lines Don and Lizzie quote at the end are from "The Walrus and The Carpenter" by Lewis Carrol.
I'm supergirl
And I'm here
To save the world
And I wanna know
Who's gonna save me?
I'm supergirl
And I'm here to
Save the world
And I wanna know
Why I feel so alone
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"Nope. I hate you. I really do. You suck. This is all your fault, you know. I'm helping you out, doing you a favor. Then you say I gotta wear that. Nope. I ain't doin' it." She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat down on a nearby stool. She gave him the dirtiest look she could come up with, which he promptly returned with a bright smile. Her resolve was slipping. Crap.
He got down on both knees to bring himself to her level and leaned in closer, giving her the 'puppy dog that's lost in the cold dark woods' look. "Please Lizzie? For me?"
"I just don't see why I have to wear that stupid dress. I'll look horrible, and you know I'd be more comfortable in a skirt or something. You should pick someone who looks good in a dress. And why does it have to be that particular dress? I could probably find something that fits me…"
He silenced her by pulling her off the stool, onto the floor, and sitting on her. Outraged, she fought like a caged puma, deadly and precise, and within fifteen seconds she had him pinned down on the floor.
"Pinned ya." she whispered in his ear, laughing at the astonished look on his face. He took this moment of distraction to push her off and try to get her again. She, in four simple maneuvers, got him flat on his back and defenseless.
"Pinned ya 'gain. Movie?"
"Lemme go you vicious…" he struggled even though he knew it was no use. She was too good for him. "Unfair odds, you stupid black belt..."
"Movie?" she asked again, unfazed by his squirming like a kindergartener outside the principal's office.
"The Lion King."
"Year?" she whispered, leaning in closer, their noses only inches apart.
"Two years ago. '94."
"Fine." she muttered sulkily, then relaxed her muscles and allowed him to push her off. "I'll go with you, and I'll wear that dress."
Don Flack Jr. smiled to himself and accepted partial victory. She might be better than him at karate, but he could persuade her to do almost anything if he really needed it.
"I think you wanna go. In that dress, too. Don't give me that innocent look, I know you too well for that. And Chip and Janet are going, so we can double-date with them if you want to. I have to go anyway, and you know I'll just go alone if you won't go with me."
"You wouldn't have to go alone. You could go with someone who was planning on going anyway. One of the cheerleaders, for instance. Or any of the stupid Softball Queens. I'm sure Terri or Shandra or Kelsey..."
"Why would I want to go with them when I could go with you?" she blushed involuntarily and smiled to herself.
"I don't know. A very good question, I must say. Is it because I'm very short and pencil thin with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and I have a cute cheerleader name like Kelsey or Lindsay or Brittany?"
"No. It's because you're a tall redhead with brown eyes and a non-ditzy name, because you're my best friend, not to mention my girlfriend."
"I've been your girlfriend for what, a week? I mean, we don't know if it's gonna work out. We shouldn't be spoutin' out 'bout it if we ain't certain it's gonna work." she cut in, not realizing how much slang she used and how thick her accent was when she was nervous. He noticed. Every time.
"I love that you played in the drum line and that you kick butt in karate and I hate that I won't be around you when you're off at college. Gosh, Liz. I'll miss you so much."
"Well, yeah..." she said cockily, giving her signature smirk, then laughing at herself. "I sound just like one of them. Come on, we'll just ditch the party. Celebrate our, what will it be on Friday, two week anniversary?"
"Our two week anniversary is serious business, young lady. Please keep your sarcasm to yourself." he half said, half snorted with a smirk exactly like hers.
"Your coach won't notice one of the, what, twenty gazillion guys from the football team missing? What is he, gonna take role call or something?"
"He'll miss his star quarterback, though."
"You're so full of it, you know that?"
"Full of what? Charming-ness, handsomeness?" He idly picked a Magic 8 ball off his desk, shook it a few times, then laughed at the result.
"Bull. And 'charming-ness' isn't a word. What did the ball say?"
"Way to be technical. I asked it a personal question. Absolutely none of your business. Snoop."
"Whatever. So why do I have to wear this particular dress again?" she said, quickly changing the subject off of what was sure to be a losing battle.
"Liz- you want to go. Admit it. Come on..." he poked her in the side, acting, as usual, like he was still in third grade. "What would you rather do than hand out with the entire football team and their cheerleader girlfriends, listening and dancing to overrated pop music, and watching some idiots get totally wasted on beer afterwards in the parking lot?"
"I would rather play softball than go. I would rather play softball on top of an airplane drinking coffee than go. I would rather..." he was laughing too hard for Liz to continue her list of most hated things. "Would you shut up? I was on a roll... now where was I?"
"Softball...airplane...coffee." he reminded her once he'd stop rolling around on the floor.
"It wasn't that funny. And I really am afraid of heights. And coffee is disgusting. But I don't want to go to this prom-party-dance-whatever-thing. Please don't make me go..."
"Liz-zie! Puh-lease! You have to go with me! I have to go because of Coach, and even if I didn't have to, I would still want to go with you. And you don't have to wear that dress if you really don't want to. But I thought…"
"I already said I would. Sheesh. Talk about desperate..."
"I'm not desperate! And how's I supposed to know you hadn't changed your mind?"
"I was just messin' with you. Yes you are desperate. I've known you long enough to know that when you start rambling..."
"I wasn't rambling!"
"Yes, you were. Dinner time." a voice from the kitchen called out. Liz smiled and gave him an I-told-you-so look.
"My mom loves you. She would agree with anything you said."
"Not my fault I'm so lovable."
"It is. You could be mean if you tried."
"No, I couldn't. Not in a million years because it's just in my nature to be kind-hearted and caring and..."
"DONALD STEPHAN FLACK JUNIOR AND ELIZABETH ANNELIESE GELLAR, COME TO THE TABLE RIGHT NOW!"
"Boy, your mom can yell loud." Liz half whispered, half giggled as they scrambled as fast as they could to the dining room on the first floor.
"I know..."
"I heard that, young man."
"Sorry ma. I take it back. You have the quietest voice I ever heard."
"Don't you lie to me young man."
"Okay. I mean, yes ma'am." the young football star said as respectfully as he could, which earned a fresh batch of laughter from Liz and a few chuckles from his mother.
"The time has come," Mrs. Flack started, only to be interrupted by:
"The Walrus said, to talk of many things! Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax!"
"Of cabbages, and kings!"
"And why the sea is boiling hot!"
"And whether pigs have wings!"
"That's all I know." Liz said regretfully to Don, who was nodding, also sadly, in agreement.
"When was that?"
"Third grade. Mrs. Henderson. She was weird."
"I know. Didn't she make you stand..."
"Would you two please stop it! You are driving me crazy, both of you! I was going to say, the time has come to set the table. And you will be volunteering to do it for me." Mrs. Flack was not a woman to be trifled with. The two teens immediately began rummaging around in drawers and piling silverware and dishes on the small table.