Title: Simple to the Mind

Title: Simple to the Mind

Rating: G (right now)

Summary: Val gets hurt, Tyler saves her. But with the pain and thanks can friendship surface between two friends who are growing up and learning life's not as easy as they thought?

Chapter Summary: Friendly visits lead to invitations… but pain is still evident. How hard can it be to invite a friend to your family's vacation house? Apparently… very, when the friend happens to be the one you have a crush on.

Disclaimer: This is written as a work of fiction. No characters belong to me and I am not benefiting in any way by writing this. All characters belong to Disney.

Claimer: Plot is mine!

Pairing: V/T, a little C/J

Simple to the Mind

Two days later, Tyler woke up at ten forty-six in the morning to his mom yelling up the stairs that William and her were going out and would be back at one. Tyler groaned and rolled over, looking at his alarm clock.

"Ten forty-six," he noted drowsily, burying his tousled blond head in the pillow again. Suddenly it hit him and he sat up. "I'm late for school! No… it's Saturday. So I'm going back to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep…" His head dropped onto the pillow again and his stomach protested. "Hungry," he muttered. Half-asleep in shorts and no shirt, he stumbled downstairs and poured Cheerios for himself.

Halfway through the Cheerios, someone came in. Probably Hank, thought Tyler, because Hank and Val were the only ones with keys to his house, Val because she took care of his mom's plants once while they were on vacation. But Hank had said he'd come over sometime during the weekend… hadn't he?

It was all too much for Tyler's not-yet-awake brain when a perky blond cheerleader called his name.

"Tyler?"

"I'm here," he said. He stood up and walked over to Val, who was in the other part of the kitchen. "Brutal crutches," he teased, even though he had seen them yesterday. Val just screamed as he rounded the corner and dropped her crutch. Tyler's bowl of cereal instinctively flew up and Cheerios sprayed the wall behind him. The plastic bowl crashed harmlessly to the tiled floor as the blond football player stood covered in milk. Tyler picked up Val's crutch and held it out: "Dropping things, are we?"

"What. Are. You. Wearing?" asked Val. Tyler looked down.

"Shorts."

"And no shirt."

"Apparently. Why'd you scream? Is there a roach in here? I hate roaches." Tyler looked around nervously.

"You're not wearing a shirt!" exclaimed Val. Tyler scratched his head, catching on.

"Oh. Haven't we gone swimming together or something?" Val shook her head. "You've never seen me in a swimsuit? Or shorts?" Val shook her head again. Tyler laughed and flexed. "Don't you like my manly, macho muscles?"

Val laughed, "Sorry, Connell, but you don't look very manly or macho in Cheerios. You just look ridiculous."

Tyler shook his head despairingly and started to walk upstairs. "I'll go change my shirt… and when we get back? You're helping me clean the kitchen."

Val smiled.

Tyler took a shower and changed into regular clothes—and a shirt—and went back downstairs. Surprisingly, the walls were clean and Cheerio-free. The floor was still wet.

"I couldn't exactly get the floor with crutches and a leg brace," said Val. Tyler picked up her rag and went to work.

"Where are your parents?" Val inquired, then immediately regretted it. "I mean—where're your mom and William?"

"It's all right," said Tyler. "I probably should call him my parent."

Val bit her lip, replying gently, "Look, Tyler, if you need help—"

"I know." He stood up. "They probably went out on his boat. They're getting back at one."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot why I came."

"You had a reason?" Tyler's smile was laughing as he sat down at the counter next to Val. She grinned.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm grateful for you saving me," she said simply. "Thank you."

"Hank and Jamie helped. And Caitie carried the refibulator."

"I have to thank Caitie next, you know, carrying the refib machine is a big deal. Maybe she should join EMS, huh?"

"Jamie would definitely like it."

"I think they'd be too busy looking at each other to think about what a cardiac arrest was," said Val. "You know, someone should definitely think about getting those two together. They're perfect."

"Well, it looks like our favorite superwoman has taken a small break," Tyler told her, pointing at the brace on her leg.

"All I can do is inventory and paperwork," groaned Val, "so don't talk to me about being a superwoman."

"Last time I did that, you just tried harder."

"You still can't do yard work," Val said, laughing. "And you know it."

Tyler appeared shocked. "Me? I'm good at yard work. A genius. I mean, I'm the best on the football team at it! I do all the yard work at home, and—"

"You had trouble with a weed," Val informed him. "I was the one who thought of using clippers."

"I was getting there. You just needed to—to—wait a while! Yeah, that'd do it. You just were too impatient."

"Oh, that's it," said Val. She pulled her blond hair into a ponytail and rolled up her sleeves. "Put 'em up. We're gonna settle this once and for all."

"Settle what?" asked Tyler. She smiled.

"I don't know, that's your job."

"My job, huh? My job?" He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. "Now we find out who the best EMT is!"

"Idiot! I'm on crutchessssssssssssssssss…" The crutches went crashing to the ground and Val's cast banged into Tyler's stomach.

"Ouch!" He quickly put her down on a stool. "Sorry about that."

She rubbed her leg, standing and picking up a crutch. "It's all right. Wait five weeks and you can sling me over your shoulder."

"So you want to be slung over my shoulder."

"I never said that."

He handed her the other crutch, helping her stand up.

"Well," he said optimistically, "you'll be better in time for spring break."

Val laughed, sitting down on a stool. She propped her crutches up against the counter and smiled a Val smile, coincidental of cheerleaders—unique to Val.

"I nearly have my heart stop two days ago, my leg is fractured, I have bruises from my head to my toes, and all you can say is 'you'll be better for spring break'?"

"Look on the good side of things." Tyler suddenly leaped from his casual leaning position to stand vertical, reaching to his full height. Val looked at him curiously.

"Tyler? Now what?"

He smiled sheepishly as his tall frame once more collapsed onto a stool.

"I forgot to ask you if…" He paused. Val's eyes encouraged him to go on, with a nod of head and significant twitch of eyebrows. "If…"

"Spit it out, Connell. That's what we learn in cheerleading. How to spit stuff out."

"Ifuwantogonspinbreawitus." The words most certainly were not understandable, and Tyler realized it as soon as the first syllable of the newly invented word was out of his mouth. "If you wanted to go on spring break with us," he repeated, slowly and enunciating, the way a normal person would talk, the way that was understandable to fellow humans like Val. Of course, a small part of his brain said, Val is so much more than human.

The thought was soon gone like a quickly evaporating wisp of gray smoke, and the uneasy Tyler was left with the slightly puzzled face of Val.

"With… who?" she asked. He mentally berated himself for asking now, two days after she had nearly died, but no one had ever said Tyler Connell was good at choosing words.

"Us. I mean," he said, hoping he didn't sound like too much of an idiot, "my family. Me, and my mom, and William. We're going to our house on an island near San Francisco… with William's boat. I don't think I can stand going on William's boat by myself for a week, and Hank's going skiing, and all my other friends from football have plans, and my mom suggested you for company for me, because she likes you—that's why you water the plants and have a key—and… will you?"

Val looked at him, blue eyes into blue eyes. "Well… I have to ask my parents."

"Yeah." She didn't want to. He could tell. "Yeah, you probably should."

"But, sure."

Head snapped up, startled from advancing depression that was pushed away like the tide by the moon. "You will?"

"Sure." A smile started, then grew impish. "After all, the boat can't be as bad as you say."

Relieved eyes met hers once again, a locked gaze of ocean blue as grins began on both of the teens' faces.

Ocean blue.

Last line was cryptic, but next time maybe you'll get it… And Gray Ghost—the clavicle is not the neck bone. It's the breastbone near the shoulders and neck, but I am almost positive it is not the neck bone. Ah well. Review please…….