Author's Note: You have reached the light at the end of the tunnel, people! No more depressing TWC! Now back to the previously scheduled happy fluffiness. This is for "Beck Falls For Tori." Also, the stuffed dinosaur from the last chapter will be mentioned, even though TWC and it's aftermath haven't happened yet. Dinosaurs are awesome and I couldn't resist. Enjoy and thank you for all the amazing reviews so far! :)
The door's not locked, but she kicks it open anyways.
It's three am, and the RV is darkened except for the glow of a digital alarm clock. It's in the early hours of a Sunday, and, like most people, she never can get the hang of Sundays. Or any day, for that matter. She has reasons to hate all of them.
Her boyfriend's limbs are spilling over an orange armchair, still in most of his clothes, mouth hanging open in sleep. It's not the most attractive pose, but at this point in their relationship she's seen it all. He's got Phil the Brontosaurus clutched to his chest, an open laptop on the table in front of him that's screen has long since darkened.
He doesn't even twitch when the door slams open.
"Beck!"
He lets out somewhere between a screech and a yelp, his whole body moving at once. Phil goes flying across the room as he leaps haphazardly to his feet.
He sees her standing there, silhouetted by moonlight, and only relaxes slightly.
"Jade? Wha-what the hell...it's three in the morning?!"
"I know."
"Are you okay? Did something happen?"
"Nothing's happened. Yet."
"Jade, please." He collapses back in the armchair, pushing the hair from his eyes and pulling the cord of a light. "For fuck's sake, tell me what's going on."
She glares at him, then sits down heavily on his bed. She picks Phil up from the carpeted floor and tosses him back to his owner, who tucks the stuffed animal under one arm.
"You're dressing in drag and doing the stunt for Tori?" She says, her voice clipped, practically snarl. Her eyes look glassy, but the light is too dim for him to be sure.
He lets out a tired breath, rubs his forehead momentarily. "Do we have to talk about this right now? How'd you even find out?"
"Cat texted me. I was gonna wait til morning but I changed my mind once I thought about it. So, yes, we have to talk about this now."
He sighs again, and wonders what crazy, convoluted part of his mind thought that keeping her in the dark had any benefits. He tries to bring up the previous reasoning—this conversation would never happen, maybe? Nope, it just would have happened earlier, and she'd get over being pissed off about helping Tori, instead of having to also be mad about him not telling her. Christ, he's a moron. Now he's gonna get yelled at for the rest of the night.
"I'm sorry," he says, as if that will have any bearing with her. "I should have told you, I just knew it would upset you, and Tori really was freaking out..."
"This is fucking ridiculous, Beck. Tori needs to get her shit together and just do the stunt. You really think you dressing in drag is going to convince anyone?"
"You just don't like the idea of me doing something nice for someone."
"No, I don't like the idea of you doing something nice for the Anti-Christ."
"Jade, really? Tori's the Anti-Christ in your mind?" He looks at her for a moment, sees the firm set of her lips, the lack of blazing anger in her eyes. "Wait a minute...you're not pissed off."
"What? Yes, I am," and then, as an afterthought, "Dipshit."
"No, Jade, I think we can all tell when you're angry. And right now, you're not."
She turns her eyes away from him, grits her teeth, and can't seem to think of a retort.
"Oh my god." He's grinning now, eyes sparking with amusement. "You're not made. You're worried."
"No I'm not!"
"Yes you are!" He grabs his phone and quickly snaps a picture of her unusual expression, savoring the moment.
She glares at him sharply. "What are you gonna do with that?"
"Oh, nothing. Just put it on The Slap. And Facebook. And Twitter. And Google Plus. And MySpace. And Tumblr. And every single other kind of social networking site I can think of."
"Why the fuck would I be worried about you?"
"Cause I'm jumping off a forty foot balcony on Monday for your arch enemy." He smirks. "I could die."
Her eyes narrow further at him, if that's even possible. "You're not gonna die."
"Who are you trying to reassure, Jade?" he teases, still cackling.
"It is a rather small air bag to fall on..."
He laughs harder. "And she admits it!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"You really do love the word 'fuck', don't you?"
After this unexpected turn of events, he's almost happy to be awake at three in the morning.
Without any kind of warning, she lunges for his phone, the picture still up on the screen. He dodges at the last minute, snags her around the waist and tackles her on the bed. She struggles for a moment, but eventually gives up when he starts tickling her. Soon she's laughing uncontrollably, squirming against him. She has tears in her eyes by the time he finally stops, and her breath still coming in short gasps punctuated by giggles.
He falls to one side of her, keeps his arm around her mid section and his nose in her hair. He helps her out of her shoes and coat so she properly curls against him. He presses his face against her cheek, meets her eyes for half a second before she looks away. A worried Jade...so uncharacteristic he wants to laugh again. She gives off such an air of fearlessness that sometimes he forgets her insecurities, her anxieties just like everyone else.
"I'm gonna be fine."
She nods, but doesn't meet his eyes. She sighs, and he likes to think it might be in some kind of relief.