NOTES

I have a few diversions from my LM SS AU story, ideas and short scenes that either didn't work in the main story or are just drabbles that popped out between writing those chapters. They're still set in the AU, but the stories and characters may be too out of character or otherwise just not right to fit my bigger picture. They've been lingering in my WIP folder and are a distraction - this first effort in particular. Rather than keep tweaking it I decided to post it as a one shot and see if I get any reaction. It may show up in a future chapter, not really sure. Anyway, here it is with a couple others somewhat close behind. I'm still working on the main AU ch 27, I just needed to get this distraction out of the way. Let me know what you think.

This was inspired by a cartoon I saw on a Twitter account. For non-US readers, in the spring most high school juniors (3rd year) take the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) or the ACT as part of their applications for college. The scores have a huge impact on admissions decisions, so they cause a lot of anxiety before and after a test.

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Rustbucket II

Somewhere on Pacific Coast Highway

California Coast

March 2004

Ben's eyes blurred as he stared at the pages of the book, pages he hadn't turned in more than ten minutes. He could read the words, of course, and knew their individual definitions; all but a few, anyway. But after reading and rereading the sentences and the paragraphs over and over, they still didn't mean anything to him. He was no closer to answering the homework questions now than when the teacher handed out the homework yesterday - Describe your reaction to the theme(s) and imagery used in the homework text. Discuss what feelings and ideas the author was trying to convey, and how successful you think he was. Extra credit: Compare the themes and images with similar works by the author and explain the different approaches and their effectiveness. Yeah, right up her alley, she could knock that out in ten minutes, extra credit included. With citations to prove her points, and footnotes to other authors just because!

After banging his head against a brick wall for the last half an hour it was driving him nuts!

A few years ago, he would have given up long ago and just settled for whatever he could get with the least amount of effort. That usually left him with a C at best, and he told his parents and himself C minuses weren't all that bad. But then she came back into his life. On a daily basis, and even in the summer his "study skills" - never reading anything besides hero comics, and an attention span measured in seconds unless he was playing a video game - were revealed for the feeble attempts they were when compared to her. That might have been tolerable if he could keep pretending that below average grades were good enough, but along with her came that amazing watch, the one he couldn't tinker with enough to figure out how it worked and what he could do with it. And the things he could do! They more than made up for the time he spent studying it, and even she was impressed from time to time at the results he got from learning how to use it.

Finally! Something he was good at! And could get better at if he gave it some effort.

Something she would pay attention to, however much she acted like that was such a bore.

And the even more rare times she let him know she was impressed? That made him feel like a million bucks!

Until he realized if he could do that with the watch - not be average and ordinary, but actually be good at something - then maybe he could be good at other things, too, like school subjects. Like she was. Maybe not quite as good as she was, but better than barely passing, anyway.

Heroes weren't average, after all. And she told him he was a hero, and meant it. No matter how many other times she teased about it, he knew that she did. It started to bother him that he'd allow himself to be less than the "awesome" he always bragged he was. The watch showed him what awesome really was, and gave him opportunities to be that way.

She showed him how, too, and it wasn't just because of her magic.

So he tried harder with studying, determined to get better at school without becoming part of the nerd herd. But the subjects were still a pain in the ass, and he couldn't figure out why it was so hard for him. He even tried using the watch, transforming into the little gray brainiac that would breeze through his homework, but turned out to be useless when it came to showing that he had learned the material during a test. Worse than useless, as it turned out.

He may have been average - more or less - at academics, but Ben had never cheated before, and he didn't like how it made him feel. It wasn't until he got himself into a jam and his math teacher accused him of that that he broke down and asked her for help. And seethed with how humiliating that was, admitting to her that she was better at something he was really trying to get good at.

He was sure she'd get a year's worth of teasing out of one time studying for a test, but he sucked it up and went to her. And after she bitched him out for breaking the rules - going hero alone and getting that ugly bruise on his arm - and then made him promise to take her along so she could watch out for him, she helped him study. Without the teasing. Well, she did a little, but it was OK, because she also was patient and encouraging, everything his teachers weren't. And she took the time to figure out how to explain the math to him, and was genuinely excited and happy for him when he finally got it.

He aced that test the next day! Without the watch, but with her help. He did it! And her smile was bigger than his when he told her about it. He felt like a million bucks again because of it.

More study sessions for more subjects came because of that. Then karate, because of course she signed him up for it. And he found out he was good at them, too. Sometimes nearly as good as her! She knew it, too, especially when it came to karate. She still lorded over him that she had a higher ranking, but without any trace of spite; that was another part of their game. He knew she was as proud of him as he was of her, and only Sensei was better than them in the dojo.

And now? He huffed helplessly at the papers in front of him. Five years later, he was back to not knowing what the hell the textbook was trying to explain, back to being his eleven year old, stupid old doofus self.

He looked up from his book, laid out with his class notes spread all over the dining booth table, all of it mocking him for believing he could learn this stuff! He snorted quietly in frustration as his eyes found her, sitting across from him on the old RV's tattered bench seat that they laughingly called a couch. She was finished with her homework, all of it, and was engrossed dweebing out over her spell book. He couldn't help rolling his eyes. Of course she was.

She was Gwen. What else would she be doing?

Ben sighed to himself and shook his head when he looked back at the book and notes on the table. He could ask her for help, and she'd give it. Not before giving him a playful dose of grief about it first, though - but she'd do it gladly. Just one of the thousands of reasons he loved her.

He wouldn't ask - couldn't - because she wouldn't be able to help him take the damn entrance exams, and if he couldn't score high enough on his own… Well, she had her pick of elite colleges from up and down California to Indiana to Boston, but he wouldn't be going with her, it seemed.

He got up, more resigned to his fate than he wanted to be - heroes weren't supposed to mope around when things got hard, but he wasn't feeling very heroic right now - and shuffled over to the bench and stood to her left. His eyes didn't leave her for a second; they both knew the layout of the Rustbucket II like the back of their hands, he could find his way around in pitch black with no trouble. Something he'd had to do more than once over the years, and not always just to get to the tiny bathroom in the middle of the night. No, his focus was on her, like usual, even though she wasn't doing anything particularly interesting. As if that made a difference.

She was wearing her normal camping-with-family outfit that hadn't changed much since their first summer adventure. The white capris and blue on blue Cat's Meow T-shirt may be the same - a bit bigger, they both grew since then - but the way she wore them sure wasn't! She did more than grow taller - karate and heroing and the times they went dancing and bicycling and everything else together combined to make her young adult body attractively lean and athletic, even if she did nothing to show it off. Not on purpose, anyway, but the supposedly "childish" clothes she was criticized for (and how could people miss the blatantly obvious joke she was making? They'd have to be blind to not see how those cats eyes emphasized her non-childish body!) couldn't hide the curves in her hips and chest she had developed. Curves he also knew well from all the times he and his girlfriend cuddled together when they could, curves he was anticipating getting to know in even more exquisite detail when the time was right. The way she was committing the feel of him in her fingertips just as he was doing with her suggested that time was much closer than the distant point on the horizon it was when they first said "I love you" to each other.

He didn't let his gaze linger on her body even though he would be happy to do so for hours; even with all the times he'd told her how wonderful she looked, she still ducked her head and stared at the ground when he did, blushing in her endearing way and murmuring "Quit it, Doofus" with a shy smile. Instead he took in her face, her features needing no accentuation from makeup to make her stand out as the prettiest girl in whatever room she was in. She used a little anyway, some mascara that almost forced his eyes to focus on hers, where he get lost in the amazing emerald green. Eyes that could show so many moods and say so many things that it seemed only he could pick up on - a private, silent language they used between themselves before their parents accepted what they felt for each other was real. That didn't mean the adults were entirely comfortable with more open affections, though; Ben was sure her mother was convinced they'd outgrow their "infatuation" - as if! - so they were still careful when they weren't alone, and the looks they gave each other that substituted for more overt affection kept their parents' misgivings from boiling over.

He skipped over anything more than a glance at her lips whenever they were in public, because if he focused on them he'd be drawn to press his against them, to feel how soft they were and find out what flavor the gloss was. To become, in however small a way, connected to her. Another thing they kept from their parents, for the most part; another thing he wanted desperately to not have to hide any more.

And then there was her hair - that beautiful blazing red-orange that framed her face and made her impossible to overlook. He could recognize her in an instant no matter what kind of crowd they were in, which direction she was facing, or how preoccupied he might be - a good thing, too, as being able to track what she was doing was so vital to how they teamed together during hero times.

Not to be overshadowed, the understated deep color of the Keystone of Bezel completed the red frame to her face, nestled just below the hollow of her throat on the simple gold chain. Only a few people besides him had a glimpse of the power of the ancient charm; everyone else just assumed it was a pretty but inexpensive bauble he'd given her. Something she'd eventually replace with a "proper" piece of jewelry from the inevitable "real" boyfriend that came after him …

And that was the rub. That was what made him come to her side for … What? Consolation? Reassurance? Encouragement? … Love?

What was wrong with any of that?! He shook off the frown that came with that thought before his Dweeb could see it, replacing it with a small, affectionate smile. She was the one person he craved it from, who would give it to him and accept it from him without feeling the need to explain or apologize.

For now, anyway. The thought that they'd stop being all that for each other, and they'd be separated because she went away to college while he did … he didn't even know what - was making him miserable. All because he wasn't smart enough to follow where she went. After all these years, what the Poodle said was going to happen after all.

She looked up from her book and caught his eyes with a happy little smile. "Ben?" she asked before looking over at the mess of papers and the open book on the table.

"Taking a study break already? I've only been done for fifteen minutes." she said, her smile giving way for the playful, snarky tone of voice and accompanying smirk that was the hallmark of their verbal jousting. She looked back at him with happiness and mirth, trying to anticipate what his response would be and already loading up her counter.

But Ben wasn't playing the game at the moment. Without saying a word he flicked his hand slightly for her to move the book away from her lap, and without waiting he lay down on the bench next to her, facing the back rest. She reflexively uncrossed her legs just in time for him to rest his head on her thigh, feeling the tense muscle under his cheek as she breathed out in surprise "Doofus, what…"

He held his hand up near where she was holding the book out of the way - a silent request on his part - and sighed softly when she released the book and took his hand in hers. He smiled a little at the pink glow surrounding the book floating in mid air. Having a sorceress as a girlfriend provided a lot of these little moments of wonder to his life; unlike how his alien transformations usually resulted in the exact opposite for her. Not that she complained, but dealing with the chaos and mayhem, or at least an adrenaline rush from running insanely fast or flying or phasing through solid objects, that often came with some bizarre alien form or another couldn't compare with how her gift affected him. He shuddered at the unwanted thought intruding on him now - what would his life be like when he didn't have these moments any more? When her magic was out of his life?

He felt the tightness in her leg relax as her other hand found his head, her fingers burrowing gently into his messy hair. That drew another soft sigh from him, a way to show his appreciation for her affection without making himself into an even bigger wuss by trying to say it with words. Words that always came out in a bumbling train wreck. His tension also started to fade as he closed his eyes and let his head relax into her lap.

He felt the big RV swerve before they both got jostled on the seat when the rear wheels hit a pothole in the road, his head slipping closer to her body from the impact. He opened his eyes to see his forehead was almost touching her stomach, and felt his cheeks start to burn from the unexpected but not unwelcome physical intimacy. He could almost see how her face took on a similar crimson from the closeness, building off her initial blush at him making her lap a pillow. She didn't push him away, though, or even put pressure on his head to suggest he should move it. Instead, he heard her sigh back at him and continued to slowly move her fingers in his hair.

"Sorry about that, back there" he heard Grandpa call out. "Didn't see that one in time to miss it. You OK?"

"Yeah, no worries, Grandpa. We're good." Gwen called back.

"Isn't that right, Doofus?" she asked in a tone meant only for him.

Ben nodded his head against her leg. "Yeah. Of course. Hardly felt that bump, lots of padding." he mumbled, followed by a short yip when she swatted the back his head. He twisted around to look up at her with an aggrieved glare.

"Hey!"

She just laughed at him and smirked. "You got what you deserved! And if the next words out of your mouth are anything but 'I was only talking about the bench' you're gonna deserve even more, got it Tennyson?"

"Evil witch" he grumbled, turning so he was lying on his back. He kept his head on her leg, but now it was a more respectable distance from her body again. That didn't change the hot feeling on his face, but looking up at her confirmed she was feeling a similar heat. All the while she never let go of his hand or move the other one off his head, once she put it back there after unfairly assaulting him. She giggled and let the smirk fade to a fond look as she rested their joined hands on his chest and finally sent the hovering magic book to an empty spot on the table. He returned her gaze and took in her face - red hair, green eyes, red flush from her cheeks down her neck accentuating the red charm just below the collar of her shirt - before closing his eyes again. God, she was beautiful!

It was all more than he could deal with. His brain was racing in awful directions that he knew were wrong. Gwen never even hinted that she shared any of the toxic thoughts he was having. He knew that. But it didn't stop what he was feeling, and the feelings were winning. He closed his eyes and tried to make it all stop…

"So are you going to tell me what this is about?" she asked quietly.

"What?"

"What." she said in a flat tone. "You know I like cuddling up, but this isn't exactly normal for you."

Ah, shit! he thought. Now she's gonna know how much of a wuss I really am. Way to go, dumbass! "What do you mean? I've used your lap as a pillow plenty of times!"

"Yeah, but never to run away from something you were having problems with. Is your homework that hard?" she asked. He winced at the worry that crept into her voice.

"No. … Yeah? … it's…" He fell silent for half a minute.

"Come on, Doofus! Something's eating at you, and I don't believe it's English lit. You can't even look at me right now!" The concern was getting worse, and making her feel bad was the last thing he wanted to happen.

"What's going on?" She squeezed his hand tighter and didn't ease up.

He opened his eyes and almost regretted it. And coming to her in the first place. The look in her eyes showed all he was doing was hurting her. Again. She wouldn't miss that after she went away, he was sure of that.

His miserable feelings finally spilled over - he had to stop the hurt he put in her, and if that meant telling her about them, then… well, if she was going to leave he shouldn't drag it out. Words started coming out of his mouth, for a change without the filter he'd learned over the last couple years.

"No, it's not English lit." he said softly. "I mean, that's just… I don't get it. I can't get it! No matter what I do, no matter how much you help, I just…" The look of confusion and worry on her face was too much.

"I can't get high enough scores on the tests! I'm not that smart! I can't get in to the schools you will, and you'll go away, and then…" His voice finally faded away and he closed his eyes again, only to hear her take in a sharp breath.

"And then, what?" she asked, carefully.

"And then I'll have lost you again." he whispered as the horrible memories of the times he thought he did came rushing back. He felt his eyes fill, and shut them tighter.

"The Poodle was right, I'm not smart enough. You deserve better than I can give you." He felt a tear leak from his eye, but let it go and concentrated on not letting any more out.

"That's what's going on…" he whispered.

She didn't say anything after that for what seemed like forever. She took a breath and held it for a few heartbeats.

"Oh Doofus…" she said gently. Here it comes, he thought. I pushed her into saying it - stupid, stupid, stupid!

"I'm so sorry!"

"Huh?!"

"I'm sorry. That's my Mother talking. I'm sorry she makes you think that."

Ben opened his eyes and blinked.

"But that's not me!" she said firmly. "Now you listen to me, Ben Tennyson, and don't forget it - don't you ever think you're not smart enough or good enough for me! Like you said before, since when do I settle for anything but the best!" She raised her eyebrows at him for a second.

"I know how smart you are! And if the schools I get accepted to don't see it… We'll figure it out!"

Her serious face softened to an affectionate gaze. "I promise you, however we do it will absolutely include you and me together." Ben almost melted at the gentle smile she was giving him, and the now-familiar tightness in his chest was almost overwhelming. He returned the gaze she was giving him, and again found the unexplainable answer to the dismissive question their parents had asked when they first got found out - what do you know about love?

He couldn't explain it, but he knew it. And right now if he kept it to himself he'd burst.

"You know I love you, right Dweeb?" he said quietly.

"I love you too, Doofus! Don't ever forget that, either!"

This! This is what that stupid chapter on Shakespeare sonnets was talking about! The realization was a shock. The long dead author every lesson said was the master of love poems didn't know how to answer that question any better than he did! He just put flowery words together in complicated patterns to try and give parts of an answer.

Ben started to sit up before the fingers in his hair pressed him back against her thigh.

"Where are you going?"

"I should get back to my homework. You're right, I need to finish it."

She kept smiling down at him. "You know what? We'll have plenty of time for that before we head back home. I want to stay like this for a while."

He relaxed back against her, and laced his fingers with hers, bringing both their hands to rest over his heart. He smiled gratefully back up at her and saw the quick glow of the charm at her neck as the cassette of ballads he recorded for her started playing softly over the rear speakers and a slight pink tinted shimmer appeared just behind the two front seats. The raucous sound of Grandpa's obsolete 8 track playing Shag Carpet was reduced to a faint buzz. Someday he'd have to ask her exactly how she did that.

For now, though, he just sighed softly and let the mellow sound of Drift Away flow through them and bask in her affection. He heard her make her happy noise.

"Yeah. Me too, Dweeb. Me too."

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NOTES

OK, enough fiddling with that. Back to the main story…

Leave a comment and me know what you think.