Okay, a short one shot, based on the song by Taylor Swift. It's country, but we're ignoring that for the sake of this fanfic.
Also for the story's sake, Tommy and Jude never were supposed to have dinner; they went on as normal, flirty but only becoming really good friends.
I'd Lie
I sat impatiently on the front porch, waiting for a ride to G Major. I'd been late every day this week, ever since those last two speeding tickets anyway, and Tommy insisted I stop driving myself. Those really weren't my fault though.
I don't think that passengers seat
Has ever looked this good to me
He pulled up, beeping despite the fact he saw me already running to the passenger's side. He smiled, asking how my night was.
"Better than yours, I'm assuming…" I knew I was smirking and he raised his brow in question. " I read the tabloids this morning," I openly giggled.
"Ah, they are good," he grinned as he sped off, explaining what really happened at the club with his newest flavor of the week.
"Aw, and here the public is beginning to believe Little Tommy Q might finally settle down…" I laughed as I involuntarily rolled my eyes. Even I knew better.
"I know you aren't rolling your eyes at me, Miss Harrison," he teased and I noticed the different shades of blue his eyes took on when he smiled.
"I should start writing for those tabloids. Put a little truth to them, you know… I could tell them all the wedding details," I grinned, knowing he'd never see that woman again in his life if he had a choice.
He tells me about his night
And I count the colors in his eyes
He laughed in return, " I don't think I'll ever fall in love to actually want to settle down. Not at this rate," he said, pushing his sunglasses back on and running his hands through his hair as we waited for the light to change. I think my stomach dropped a good 3 feet hearing that, but I gave him a faint smile, crossing my fingers inconspicuously as I prayed that he was wrong.
He'll never fall in love he swears
As he runs his fingers through his hair
I'm laughin' cause I hope he's wrong
I leaned over to switch the dial of the radio with the opposite hand, knowing he was going to scold me soon.
"Jude! Rules!"
"Rules are meant to be broken, Quincy. Especially yours," I replied coyly as I found a good song. He'd tease me for it in 5, 4, 3, 2, and –
"You're kidding! We're not listening to this shit in my car. There's no way you like this song…" he complained as I sang along.
"Why not!" I decided to humor him.
"You're doing this to annoy me. Change it," he demanded as I sat back, singing louder to Ashley Parker Angel.
And I don't think it ever crossed his mind
He tells a joke
I think I smile
But I know all his favorite songs
He pulled up to the studio, and I smiled. I hadn't prepared anything for today, meaning I'd get to write. And I just had an idea for a new song.
I easily finished the first few verses while Tommy set up the equipment in Studio A- our studio.
He walked into the lobby, looking around. He should know by now I'm by the stairs; the same spot I wrote Time To Be Your 21 – his song.
He spots me quickly and I look down, writing a few more lines as he walks over.
"You ready to work?"
"Aren't I always?"
He looks around the room
Innocently overlooks the truth
Shouldn't a light go on?
Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long?
I stopped for a second, grabbing two cups of coffee while balancing my guitar on my back and my lyrics under my arm.
"A little help here Quincy, unless you want the day off on a count of your artist just fell and broke every bone in her body…"
"As long as your voice works, we're set," he teased, " and I'm screwed."
He grabbed a cup and the papers from under my arm, reading them as we walked. He gave me a questioning look before he sat down in his chair.
"Still harboring over your breakup with Spied?" he asked, handing them back.
He's kidding, right? He has to be.
He sees everything in black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine
As he spun his chair to face me again, the gleam in his multicolored blue eyes told me he might.
I sighed, continuing to find the right chords as I wrote.
"What's your favorite color, Tom?"
He looked up from his work, pausing momentarily, "Green," and he looked down again, concentrating on his work with a small smile playing at his perfectly sculpted lips.
"Jude, wake up," I could hear the quiet coaxing, but my bed was warm and I was having a really good dream.
I finally managed to open one eye, finding Tommy standing over me. I was still trying to figure out if I was dreaming or not before he ripped away my comforter. Nope, I wasn't.
"Give it back, it's freezing in here!"
"Maybe you should sleep with some clothes on then," he grinned, eying my pathetically short boxers and tiny white camisole.
"You're a perv, Quincy. Get out! And leave the blanket!"
"Get up, Jude. We're officially late thanks to your tendency to oversleep. Good dreams?" His grin made my stomach flip. I tended to talk in my sleep, and we both knew it. I hadn't said something, had I?
I looked at his face again, feeling the butterflies form. How'd he look so good so early in the morning?
"Give me twenty minutes."
"Ten."
"I need to shower!"
"Then do it in ten minutes."
"Fifteen," I bargained and he rolled his eyes.
"Fifteen," he sighed.
"Ha!" I laughed, grabbing a towel and a change of clothes as I headed for the bathroom adjoined to my bedroom.
"You're down to thirteen and a half!" I heard him scream as I closed and locked the door.
I heard him walk out and I groaned.
At least he was good inspiration. I finished my song in my head, writing the lyrics down on my mirror with eyeliner so I didn't forget them later.
He stands there then walks away
My god if I could only say
I'm holding every breath for you
"How's the song coming?" he asked as we settled down in our studio. I don't care how many other people used it before or after us; it'd always be ours.
"Finished," I smiled, and he picked up my guitar, handing it to me.
"I have one problem switching the bridge; the chords don't flow right, but I figured you could figure something out," I lied, knowing he'd tell me to play it straight through.
He nodded, grabbing his own guitar. " Let's hear what you have so far. Play it through, and then I'll make adjustments." Bingo.
I nodded, my anxiety growing.
I don't think that passengers seat
Has ever looked this good to me
He tells me about his night
And I count the colors in his eyes
He'll never fall in love he swears
As he runs his fingers through his hair
I'm laughin' cause I hope he's wrong
I can see a smirk threatening to cross his lips, but his eyes and face are serious.
And I don't think it ever crossed his mind
He tells a joke
I think I smile
But I know all his favorite songs
And I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He likes to argue
Born on the 17th
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
I'd lie
He looks around the room
Innocently overlooks the truth
Shouldn't a light go on?
Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long?
He sees everything in black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine
I could tell you
His favorite colors green
He likes to argue
Born on the 17th
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
Id lie
He stands there then walks away
My god if I could only say
I'm holding every breath for you
I can tell he wants to look away, but he refuses. My nervousness is gone; it's too late now, but my God, he's going to be questioning me later.
He'd never tell you but he can play guitar
I think he can see through everything but my heart
First thought when I wake up
Is my god he's beautiful
So I put on my makeup and pray for a miracle
Yes I could tell you
His favorite colors green
He likes to argue
Oh and it kills me
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
If you ask me if I love him
I'd lie
As I finished, he put the guitar down, opening his mouth to talk, but saying nothing. Oh yeah, he had questions. Too bad he already knows the answers are all lies.
Reviews please?