December 9, 2000
Avalon, Undisclosed Location
1926 Zulu
"You're sure one got through? Wouldn't be the first time one of your damn sensors glitched and gave a bad reading!"
"Yes sir, we're sure. The third target has been detected by two additional sensors, including a thermal imager. As you know, these targets run extremely hot, they stand out like the sun against deep space."
"Damn! … This means we have, what? Two weeks before the next intercept window?"
"That's correct, Merlin. When it gets to the outermost edge of low Earth orbit."
"All right, tell the Air Force and our Asset protection teams to be ready. And Whiskey Tango." The grizzled old man pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's time that bastard earned his money for a change."
He turned to look out the large window at the winter sky outside as the messenger left his office. "Guess we'll see if planetary defense can do it again…" he muttered to no one, his attitude as dark as the gray scene on the other side of the window as he recalled the first time he saw the missiles engage an inbound weapon…
Undisclosed date, 1968
Kwajalein Missile Range
Marshall Islands, US Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands
In the late 1960s the United States was locked into a multi-decade "Cold War" with the Soviet Union, mostly in a tit for tat stalemate over nuclear weapon supremacy. As one side developed a numerical or technological advantage over the other, the disadvantaged side worked on some sort of counter balance, while the rest of the world wondered which side would tip the MAD (the astonishingly descriptive acronym for Mutually Assured Destruction) rush to nuclear war. The rest of the civilized galaxy looked at the impending planetary suicide as one more reason to treat the demented Terrans as pariahs.
In one episode of this strange danse macabre, the US Air Force launched an intercontinental ballistic missile, the current state of the art in ICBM delivery of almost unimaginable destructive power, from one US location against another one. The purpose of this seemingly self-destructive act was actually aimed at informing the primary adversary, the USSR. The ICBM launch from Vandenburg Air Force Base on the central coast of California had two objectives: to demonstrate that the delivery system actually worked as advertised, placing an inert test warhead vehicle on a path to the stated target of the Kwajalein Missile Range, almost 5000km to the southwest. The accuracy of the delivery, to a barely four kilometer speck of coral reef in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean, should have been enough to keep the Soviet side from trying anything too threatening with their own arsenal of similar weaponry.
The second reason was even more of a statement. The island of Kwajalein was the launch point of an update to a relatively new defensive weapon - a capability to intercept and destroy an inbound nuclear warhead that was the business end of an ICBM. If the warhead vehicle could be effectively intercepted, the ability of the USSR to hold the US hostage to MAD would be greatly lessened. As would the risk to the rest of the world's nations.
That was the US position, at least.
So one clear night in the middle of 1968, Vandenburg launched the ICBM at a little after 12:17AM Pacific Daylight Time. After a five minute or so burn of the multi-stage rocket, the warhead successfully detached and continued its unpowered flight down range. Multiple tracking radars monitored its progress, murmuring electronically to each other and a central operations facility.
About twenty-two minutes later, a two shot salvo of Nike Zeus surface to air interceptors took off within twenty seconds of each other. A harrowing couple of minutes later, the test was declared complete - although the first shot missed and flew off into space, the second engaged and came within the blast radius of its intended nuclear warhead to the inbound test vehicle. If the Nike had the warhead, the incoming nuke would have been destroyed by the intercepting one. A single miss followed by a close-enough approach met the overall mission objective. Technically a partial success.
As it turned out, the second interceptor actually hit the ICBM warhead, although this fact wasn't publicized as well as the rest of the test. Still, interested observers of the exercise took notice. This was far more impressive than the general public could appreciate.
Publicly, this was a moderate strategic win for the US. The Soviet Union, not to mention the rest of Earth's governments, knew it shifted the balance of power. Regardless, in spite of, or perhaps because of, the actual shoot down, the Nike system was eventually seen as a politically and militarily destabilizing weapon. Such strategic weapon defenses were soon negotiated mostly out of existence, leaving MAD in effect rather than eliminated.
Cynical observers would think that was the reason for not pursuing the concept much further.
As one of the official Plumber observers of the test, Jim Huxby knew better, although not because he wasn't also cynical.
What looked like a so-so test of an early anti-ballistic missile system was actually a spectacular success, although only a very small number of people conducting it were aware of that fact. A separate inbound test weapon launched from the middle of the Sol system by a friendly alien participant was detected and tracked by multiple radars scattered through the solar system, and intercepted and destroyed in the low end of middle Earth orbit by the live thermonuclear warhead on the first Nike Zeus. A system that, before the test, was viewed as "primitive" Earth technology by smug populations in the galaxy. The message to other galactic residents, civilized and not, was clear - Terra was not the technologically backward and defenseless weakling off-worlders assumed.
Under Merlin's direction, the Plumbers put together the US story that the intercept wasn't a full success, doing their best to downplay that the incoming target launched from Vandenburg was in fact hit directly. The intercept was designed to only get within a few hundred meters of the target; the intended thermonuclear warhead of an operational interceptor would have taken care of the rest. That story was good enough for most of Earth's population.
The fact of a successful kinetic hit, though not the expected outcome, was not lost on the USA's adversaries. The spectacular, if never publicized, full test result was similarly not ignored by Terra's antagonists.
Merlin blinked a few times, shaking off his reverie and sat back down at his desk where his glass and metal tablet waited with all the reports that kept his troops, and those of the cooperating Earth governments, as busy as any war. Even with the successes of advancing defensive weapon technologies, thirty-two years later Merlin didn't deceive himself. That early demonstration may have contributed to discouraging actual attacks against Earth, but there had been more than a few attempts since then. Thankfully the interceptor system kept up with adversary weapon advances, but the odds were nevertheless against Earth. An attack only had to get through the defenses once; the defenses had to work perfectly every time.
Terra had been fortunate that most of the galaxy considered it an uncivilized backwater with no real redeeming value, nothing of substance that "superior" races would want.
And then those blasted kids went and made themselves irresistible targets…
December 13, 2000
Madison Middle School
Student Entrance
8:02 AM
The bus ride to school was way worse than normal, Ben thought as he considered how FUBAR the morning was going. Besides ending at his least favorite place - school may have stopped being Torquemada's torture chamber, like he used to think it was (minus the reference to the Spanish Inquisition's chief confessor; that was a brand new addition to his scholastic knowledge. The study session with his Dweeb for that chapter of his history book had been particularly… memorable!), but he still could think of way better places to be - the Universe seemed bound and determined to mess with his head. Which, he admitted, wasn't really all that hard to begin with (HA! Beat you to it Dweeb!) when his day started with the godawful buzzing from his alarm clock at the ridiculous time of 6:15. That gave him barely enough time to sortof wake up, throw on the clothes he dropped on the floor the night before, chow down whatever Mom made for breakfast (usually scrambled eggs or frozen waffles, hard to screw up either, and bacon was never bad), grab his book bag on the way out the door and dodge the hug and kiss from his Mom and the hair ruffling thing from Dad.
He used to be good at that last bit, but either both his parents had gotten faster or he'd lost several steps.
Couldn't be that he actually liked the attention.
He had to grin briefly at that thought - nah, couldn't be. He'd much rather wake up again to see Gwen's cute, sleepy smile as he (literally) rolled out of his bunk during the summer. Mom and Dad usually had a similar expression for him as he rushed to the bus stop, but they just couldn't compete with the fond looks she gave him.
The walk to his bus stop should only take five minutes, but the morning cold always seemed to double it. And this morning he had to stop on the way to retie the laces on his sneakers after he tripped on one of them (mental note, get Steve to show him how to do that lacing thing that didn't need a knot and stashed the free ends out of the way). He ran up to the stop as the next to last kid was climbing the steps into the front of the bus.
Of course the heater on the rickety thing didn't work. He pulled the neck of his jacket up to his chin as he scanned the interior for an empty seat.
And the hits just kept on coming! There were almost always open seats when he got on, but today it seemed every possible kid on the route decided to take the bus. Ben had to settle for sharing a seat with some seventh grader who was even smaller than he was, which wasn't awful since that left plenty of room. But the boy was a chatterbox, going on and on about how he watched the final soccer game, how cool it was that Ben scored off a bicycle kick (which it really was! - he knew he'd remember how it felt for the rest of his life, even if it was the least memorable part of that day), how he was a soccer player too… The kid just wouldn't shut up. Ben played along as best he could, grunting or giving one word replies and doing his best to not be a jerk, but he was almost glad when the bus pulled up in front of the main entrance to Madison. And that just wasn't right…
On top of that, there were two - two! - fender benders on the way, so the bus was seven minutes later than normal. So he was rushing in to the building without having time to stop at his locker and ditch half the books in his backpack, instead having to haul the heavy thing through his first couple of classes.
And last but certainly not least, there was the pack of cool kids hanging around inside the entry hall, doing their morning social thing - calling out to each other in loud voices with plastic smiles, gossiping about the latest school buzz as if they hadn't been the ones to create it the day before. Ben gritted his teeth to stop the growl in his throat and headed towards the stairs.
Only to see Heather, Ashley and a couple other girls in the top clique notice him - hard to miss when the two with their backs to him suddenly whirled around and stared in his direction with astonished looks - and start chattering as he got closer. Heather actually smiled at something the rest of that gaggle said as she detached from the group and started walking to the stairs, too, as if her homeroom had somehow switched floors.
"Hi, Ben!" she called to him brightly. For, like, the fifth time in the last three days; something Ben didn't get since he did nothing to encourage it, even after Ashley told him for the second time that he could "expand his social circle" a few days after the fall dance. That's when he started noticing several girls, some in the cool kids group and some not, looking at him weirdly for more than a passing glance. A couple, including a particularly bold seventh grader, even tried chatting him up since Thanksgiving, but their timing sucked. They always caught him between classes when he was trying not to be late for a change.
That was the story he told them and he was sticking to it.
This morning Heather wasn't going to be brushed off so easily. "Hey, have you got a second?" she called out to him as they got closer to the stairs. He heard a gasp or two from the incoming crowd and saw a couple heads turn in their direction. His notoriety had started wearing off, much to his liking - it was becoming more for being the class dork that somehow kept his smoking hot girlfriend a secret than his athletic or musical talents now - so the most popular girl in school approaching him in public most definitely wasn't a normal thing. He wanted to keep it that way.
"Uh, not really." he said to her, not stopping and pointedly looking at the clock next to the stairs that showed there was less than five minutes before the bell rang. "My bus was late and I need to finish something before class starts. Maybe later?"
The mousy blond stopped abruptly herself, surprised that he refused her invitation to talk. He heard another gasp from the girl's posse before he started climbing the stairs. What was their deal? They all needed to get to class…
Whatever. Not his worry.
- X -
Break between third and fourth period
The last week of school before Christmas break was always a pain in Ben's butt, and the last day was the worst. Teachers were trying to rush through topics that somehow didn't get the time they were supposed to, what with unexpected fire drills, assemblies and other interruptions to teaching plans. There were tests that had to be completed despite most students not being ready for them, because teachers took perverse pleasure in tormenting the kids right before the two week break. Still, that was better than the five page paper that would be due the first day back in January.
Even lunch was sketchier than usual - the cafeteria ladies served up mystery meals as they used up the leftovers from the start of the week. He rolled his eyes at that thought. He could put up with whatever slop they served; the school cooks weren't even close to Grandpa-level disgusting food.
Not that the tests were all that problematic for him this time. Study sessions with his brilliant girlfriend met the goals they told their parents - as well as their personal desires - and Ben was optimistically confident he would at least maintain his B+ average. His Nerd would be happy about that, just because that's how she was. And it kept the 'rents from objecting to their study times. With any luck his last grades of the year would be enough to put him over the top when Arcadia made their acceptance decisions, and that would really make her smile. He loved it when she got that smile - besides showing she was proud and happy for him, it was one of the few expressions they could use to show how they felt for each other in front of their parents and not get the stink eye about it.
"Hello-ooo? Earth to Ben?" an unusual girl's voice sing-songed in a not entirely friendly way next to him. The books and stuff in the open locker popped into focus as he snapped out of the pleasant daydream.
"Did you hear a thing I just said?" He reached in and got his social studies book out for his next class, then closed the locker door with a metallic click as the latch closed. He gave the combo dial a quick spin and turned toward the voice.
"Um, yeah. Sorry, Heather, I was thinking about something else." he said.
"Yeah, no kidding. … Well?"
He shrugged. "I'm not doing anything special. Just hanging around home, like usual."
Ben was used to bizarre situations by now; heck, he sought them out often enough with his Dweeb when they went heroing. But this, having a full conversation with the school queen bee - that she started, even after he brushed her off twice already! - was Zomboso-level strange. Even more so, because the most popular of the cool kids clique had just asked him what he was doing over Christmas break. Like she ever cared what he did outside school…
But that was before he became the main attraction of his middle school fishbowl, when it seemed almost all of the cool kids were suddenly interested in the soccer team MVP who could also play a mean electric guitar. He knew it was all noise, though, and he'd go back to his fringe status when school started back up. Couldn't happen soon enough as far as he was concerned.
Ben started to take a step away from his locker, but the blond girl didn't budge.
"Well, then…" she started to say slowly with an uncharacteristically shy voice, "… I was thinking maybe we could get together over the break? At the mall or something? Or Tiffany is having a Christmas party next week, if you want to go to that?" She looked at him with muted blue eyes in a way that somehow unnerved him. "I'm sure you heard about it; they're always lots of fun."
Of course he'd heard about that party, it and another New Year's party were all the chosen few could talk about. Loudly. So the rest of his class knew about it, and also knew they were not included on the invite list.
Ben resisted the urge to snort. Like he wanted to go to either snooze fest! Up until a few weeks ago, those kids hardly paid attention to him. Now all of a sudden the most popular girl was offering him to be part of that group? As one of the superheroes in his comic books said, it made his senses tingle. Not in a good way.
Besides, he was looking forward to finally being able to spend some quality time with his Dweeb. A couple trips to the mall for "Christmas shopping" at least, and their parents couldn't complain about that. He hoped, anyway. They could always get Army Girl to tag along to reduce some suspicions. Ben cringed inwardly at the thought, though - she always tried to act like she didn't mind, but it wasn't fair to her, always being the third wheel. And sometimes he just wanted his girlfriend to himself.
Ben glanced at Heather's hopeful expression and briefly wondered at the strange look that flashed over her eyes. One that reminded him again of Zombozo looking out at his audience during his clown routine, before hungrily sucking the joy of life out of them. He couldn't imagine why this girl was acting this way - he'd never been interested in her, any more than she'd been in him. They had absolutely nothing in common, and he was OK with keeping it that way.
The trick now was how could he end this situation without causing a scene? There was no point in antagonizing the leader of the cool kids - he'd seen those dirtbags screw with other kids over the most trivial BS. Those situations didn't even compare to publicly rejecting Heather's advances.
His eyes caught sight of the clock in the hall. And there was his escape.
"Um, I'll think about it. Listen, Heather, I have a test in my next period" He held up a text book. "and I need to look over the chapter first. I'll see you later, maybe." It came out as more a statement than a question. He stepped around her and walked with purpose towards his next class.
It was all he could do to not burst out laughing at the astonished look on the dirty blond's face. Not to mention two of her three friends that were watching a few lockers down. Only Ashley had a not-shocked face - she chuckled before settling into a self-satisfied smirk.
December 15, 2000 - last day before Christmas break
Madison Middle School Cafeteria
11:50 AM
Heather chit-chatted with her friends distractedly at the two tables in the middle of the cafeteria - the spot to be seen by and survey the rest of the large room - they had occupied since the start of seventh grade. By the second semester last year, her group had made it the second best place, literally and figuratively, right behind the top eighth graders. It was now the undisputed highest place in the student hierarchy, just as she and the core girls and boys of the clique knew it should be.
Like usual, she got through the food line as quickly as possible. Her table and the one next to it were the place to review what happened that morning and before, to see who was hanging out with who and who was somehow on the outs and why, to make plans for this week and the next and the one after that. Every once in a while it was even a place to deal with school subjects, more often than not by copying homework and test answers. Today, though, she was preoccupied with scoping out each surge of incoming kids, using only a small part of her attention to keep up her part of the group conversation. She could do that effortlessly, since most of the time she either started the rumor mill for whatever was being gossiped about, or she was the topic herself.
At the moment the girls around her were wondering what was up with the cute, messy brown haired boy she'd had her sights on since the dance who had consistently deflected her recent attempts to hang out. Hers, and the social dilettantes that weren't part of the top tier clique.
"Seriously, like, what is wrong with that guy? Does he like being left out?!"
"Well, he's always been weird, ever since second grade. I mean, how many guys in our grade still play that goofy Sumo game?"
"But he does way more than that now. Who knew the little shrimp could actually play a sport? And be the most valuable player at it, like Casey is in basketball?" Heather glanced at the girls at the mention of her newly ex boyfriends's name with a carefully masked expression. It was too soon for them to know that was now a sore subject, even though a couple of the girls had noticed the tall boy was missing from their group.
Instead she joined in, as she was expected to - she was the one who was stalking the most recent popular boy, after all. "Not to mention he can rock a guitar." She shrugged her shoulders. "Guess that shows there's hope for even the geekiest boys. I mean, look how he stopped being the class idiot and started getting top grades! Who would've guessed that?!"
The other girls murmured their agreement, along with a few expressions of encouragement. Then Ashley piped up. "He's got some pretty sexy dance moves, too. He was looking really good last month." She smirked for a second - was that look aimed at Heather?!
"Got a nice tight butt, too! Wouldn't mind brushing up against it at the Spring Fling!" the auburn haired girl purred.
"Ashley!" one of the other girls blushed.
"Oh come on! That's as good a reason as the others for cozying up to him after all these years! Why else are you trying to, Heather?" her friend jabbed.
Heather gave her one of her best plastic smiles, maybe friendly and maybe not. The brunette could be hard to read sometimes, like now, so Heather replied in kind. "Like you said, Ashley, that's as good a reason as any. And for all we know, he's always had a cute butt…" another gasp or two escaped from the other girls "…we just never could tell until he stopped wearing those goofy green cargo pants all the time." The day Ben Tennyson showed up to school wearing well-fitting jeans instead of those baggy, shapeless pants was only the first of several surprises about him that came out so far this year. Not to mention the form-fitting T shirts; dark colors suited him.
"Makes you wonder if he's hiding anything else that's cute about him, huh?" she cooed, making one of the seventh grade girls who was listening in start to blush.
And right on cue, a new mob of kids came tromping through the doors, including the small but well-put-together boy they were talking about.
"… come on, give it a rest Jamie! There's no way you're gonna beat me when the new Slammer game comes out! I've been kicking your butt for years!" Ben's voice cut through the crowd, like always, followed by a laugh that other kids now joined with instead of groaning at. The group of similarly laughing boys he was with pushed and jostled each other as they joined the serving line.
A few minutes later Ben emerged and headed towards a table near the windows. It used to be the undisputed loser table the gamer dorks sat at, but lately it included some of the boy's soccer team, too. Not losers, but definitely still dorky.
"Hey, Ben!" Heather called as she left the prime table, angling towards the green eyed boy so she could catch him before he sat down. The other guys behind him kept walking to their spot, instinctively knowing they should let him alone when she approached. She was pleased at how they checked her out as they walked by, though, some smoothly moving their eyes from her calves up to her face and back to her chest. Others could only gape at her well rounded physique. The sexy, mid-thigh holiday skirt and one-size-too-small matching blouse she wore just for this "chance meeting" were having the intended effect on them, anyway.
"I was hoping I'd catch you before we got out today." Sure enough, his eyes gave her a fast scan, too, before focusing on her face. They got there too quickly, though, and didn't reveal any hint of what the boy thought of the view.
"Uh, really? Well, you found me." the boy said with a vacant look, suddenly uncomfortable. It was cute the way he got flustered when she and the other skan-, um, girls tried to talk to him. It was kinda odd, too - he didn't seem to have that problem with the two admittedly knockout girls that were with him at the dance, but he obviously knew them well. Maybe they were just sisters of the other guys in the band.
"Soooh, you never said if you wanted to get together during the break…" she said quietly, trying to sound shy and playing with the ends of her shoulder length blond hair. "Since you don't have anything else planned and all. Tiffany's party will be a blast!" She smiled at him for a moment, even though he had the same blank expression he started their conversation with.
"I'm sure we can find something fun to do!" she used her best cooing voice. He still looked unfazed, so she upped the game. "I know lots of ways to have fun! Know what I mean?"
Ben Tennyson had proved he wasn't as stupid as everyone used to think, and he certainly wasn't intimidated by any of the kids in the school. Unless he was hopelessly naive he had to get what she was hinting at! And what boy would turn down what the most popular, best looking girl was offering to him?
Ben looked at her like she sprouted a second head, then fidgeted where he was standing. "Yeah, see, that's the thing. Turns out my family made plans that I just found out about, so I'm pretty busy after all." he said in a flat voice. No apology or suggestion about 'maybe another time' or anything like that.
Heather felt a growing irritation - he did it again! She knew all the ways to brush someone off and still leave open the possibility for a second try, she'd used them herself. This kid didn't even try to sugarcoat it! The little douchebag!
He looked her in the eye for a second or two, then started walking towards the table where his buddies were. "If you don't mind, my lunch is getting cold." He glanced down at the tray in his hands, then looked back up with an indecipherable smirk."and doesn't look half bad for a change." And then he was gone.
Leaving Heather completely gobsmacked in his wake!
And fuming, fully conscious of the many sets of eyes watching her little drama play out. Badly.
It wouldn't do to be seen stomping back to her table in the aftermath like she wanted to, so she managed to walk calmly. She sat down with a quick huff, though, hunched over the table with arms crossed over her stomach, ignoring some faint sounds like gasps and stifled giggles coming from tables around her. It wasn't often she got turned down, but the little jerk at least left her a way out, whether he meant to or not - surprise holiday plans his parents made kept him from hanging out. At this time of year that actually was believable, as long as she didn't lose her cool.
"Ohmygawd, Heather! What happened?!" she heard one of the girls at the table hiss. She straightened her back and tossed her hair a little. Can't show any weakness to these baby sharks.
"It's no big deal. He said his family has plans all break that were a surprise until last night." she said to the air above the table. Thankfully the rest of her posse left it at that, and the conversation moved on to other topics. Twenty-five minutes later, everyone at the table got their stuff together and headed to their next classes.
Everyone except Ashley. Her friend gave her a sympathetic look as they stood up and started walking out of the cafeteria. "That wasn't really a surprise, right? I'm telling you, Heather, he's stuck on that redhead he was with at the dance. He told me flat out that he isn't interested in anyone here, he's happy with his situation. I believe him." Ashley said emphatically. "The other guys in this school, most are either afraid of their own shadow or too full of themselves to be decent boyfriend material. He's not like any of them."
Heather looked at her friend in irritation. "I don't care about a boyfriend, Ashley!" Even if they did hook up, it would only last a few weeks. There were plenty of other cute boys around, after all.
She didn't really want a long term boyfriend, anyway, any more than her sister did. She'd been living in her sister's shadow for years - she was the queen that ruled Madison three years ago that people still talked about, and she ruled the roost now in her high school even though she was only a junior. Heather couldn't stand listening to her condescending tales of the boys she teased to the point of abuse, and how they escalated each year.
Or of when she started getting physical with the ones she liked. And the implication that Heather couldn't keep up.
"I'm just looking for some fun!"
"You mean someone to fool around with." Ashley said.
"Exactly!"
She gave her friend a sideways look. "You act like there's a difference." Now that she worked her way through a lot of the popular boys, maybe one of the second tier would be more than happy to indulge her. She had no intention of staying "virtuous" when she got to high school. What was wrong with getting a head start?
"Well, Tennyson doesn't strike me as that type. Not when he's got a girlfriend like that, anyway!"
Heather glared at the door Ben and most of the lunchroom disappeared through. "Hmpf! You might be right. What a waste!" She shrugged "If he doesn't come around soon then I'll just go after the next one."
There'd always be a next one; that's what her sister said, and she never had to wait longer than ten days before she latched onto one.
- X -
"Move over Jamie" Ben said as he put his tray on the table and bumped the other boy's shoulder with his hip after escaping the encounter with Heather. He sighed in exasperation as he sat down opposite Jorge. He picked up the burrito on the paper plate in front of him and took a bite as the Latino boy finished chewing and swallowed.
"Yo, Diez, what was that all about?" the dark haired boy said, flicking his eyes at the cool kids spot and asking the question that the rest of the guys at the table were thinking.
Ben gagged down the bite he took and stared at the rolled up flour tortilla in his hands. "What the heck is in this thing?!" he muttered. "Doesn't taste like any carne asada I've ever had…"
"If you have to ask, you probably don't wanna know. Just drown it in salsa and you won't have to worry about it." Jorge replied. "So?" he cocked a quizzical brow at Ben. "What did Herself want?"
"Oh, she keeps trying to get together sometime during the break. This time it was Tiffany's party. As if!" Ben said disdainfully. "She's really annoying!" he added before taking another bite. As mediocre as it tasted, he still half smirked to himself, imagining the Dweeb's voice complaining at how big it was compared to her ladylike eating habits.
"This time?" "Another one?" "What's up with all this sudden interest?" came a chorus from the other guys at the table.
Ben shrugged as he talked around the mouthful. "Beatsh me. 'tsnot like I wanna hang out with 'em."
Jorge gave him an incredulous look. "Dude, you aren't really this dense, are you? You have to know that girl's got her claws out for you, pendejo!"
Ben swallowed again before grabbing his soda to wash it down. "What are you talking about?!"
"Ben, come on!" Jamie piped up "Even I can see Heather's trolling you! She wants you to be her next play toy!" Everyone at the table turned to stare wide-eyed at his unexpected outburst - the guy rarely said much to the newly expanded group - then refocused on Ben to see how he'd react to the surprising but nonetheless true observation.
"Hmpf! " Ben snorted. Heather, or even the other girls, interested in him?! After all these years of at best not treating him like yesterday's leftovers? That just didn't get any traction in his head. It was true the dirty blond girl had been hooked up with a bunch of the jocks all through seventh grade, but she'd been hanging on to Casey since the second week of this semester.
Now that he thought about it, though, Monica at least had been nice to him over the last couple of semesters. Could she really be trying to be more than friendly? His uncomfortable confrontation with Gwen about this over Thanksgiving weekend surged from the back of his brain to the front; he shook his head to clear it out. His girlfriend had nothing to worry about; he'd meant what he said to her, and was relieved when she believed him.
"Like that'll ever happen! I'm ugly, not stupid!" He'd never waver from his feelings for her!
"Better let Casey know that." one of the guys advised.
"What? Why?!"
Jorge took up the explanation. "Haven't you noticed he's not attached to Heather's side any more? He's sitting over by the door, staring at you and her. If people could really shoot heat rays out their eyes, you'd be a red puddle of goo on the floor!"
"Yeah, ese, he's super pissed at you!" one of the other soccer players added.
"I don't know why. It's not like I had anything to do with it!" Ben objected.
"Doesn't matter, man. He wants to get her back - go figure why he'd want that skank! - so he's not gonna be mad at her. You're it!"
"Wait, wait… if she dumped him, why does he want her back?"
"Uh, 'cause she puts out? … At least to hear him tell it." another teammate said. Ben had heard Casey and some of the other boys BSing about doing stuff with girls at the start of the semester. They all bragged a little too loud and said stuff that sounded more like the junk he saw in that issue of Penthouse Letters he flipped through once. Before he got to the pictures that made him drop it like it was a red hot piece of charcoal…
"Puts out?" Jamie said quizzically. "Puts out what?"
"If you have to ask that question you aren't ready for the answer" Steve replied with an evil snicker. Jamie finally got a sudden flash of understanding and turned very red.
"Is that what your big brother told you when you asked him that, Stevie?" Ben shot back. The dig at his oldest friend got a little too close to being mean.
The boy frowned back. "Up yours, Tennyson!" he mock complained. "Just 'cause you're getting all kinds of action now that you have a girlfriend!" The frown changed to a knowing grin as Steve waggled his eyebrows.
And that was more than enough of that crap. Bad enough they were calling girls at school 'skank' for no good reason (a word his Mom really hated, he found out the hard way); implying anything of the sort about his Dweeb was way out of bounds.
"Don't even make jokes about that kind of stuff about her!" he growled with a fierce glower. "Her or her friend! … Got it?!"
"OK, OK, … Touchy!"
The conversation around the table turned into an awkward quiet for a long moment.
"So, Diez, since you're not doing anything next week…" Jorge thankfully changed the subject.
"Hey! Didn't I just say I told Heather I have family plans?! What makes you think I don't?!"
"'Cause you're a shitty liar, JC!" came a reply from somewhere down the table, followed by laughter as the mood lightened up again.
"Yeah, like trying to convince us that girl that tackled you isn't your girlfriend! As if!" The rest of the table chuckled and murmured in agreement.
"Yeah, dude, calling each other pet names is a sure sign."
"We don't…" Ben started to argue.
"Oh come off it! We all heard it, you call her Dweeb and she calls you Doofus. Those aren't real names, and I've never heard anyone else call you that." the other boy continued as the others at the table chuckled and smirked while they got their stuff together to get to their next class. "I'm sure not gonna call you doofus!"
"You better not!" Ben growled. "And don't call her dweeb, either, unless you want to eat the floor!"
"Wow! So sensitive! … Pet names and protective. Definitely your girlfriend!" More laughs as they all got up and picked up books and backpacks to go to their next classes.
Ben glowered at the lot of them. He knew he shouldn't agree in public, even though his entire being was screaming inside that he wanted to. He hated hiding it, his Dweeb was the most awesome person in the world even if she wasn't his girlfriend. But they still needed to keep up at least plausible deniability. That's what Grandpa called it when they first described the Omnitrix as a 'watch'; it was a term he now had a much better understanding of.
"Shut up!" he muttered instead as he flipped the bird at them, to even more chuckles and a good natured "Screw you too, Tennyson!"
He followed the other guys towards the doors, Jorge falling in step with him.
"So, as I was trying to say before we were so rudely interrupted" the Latino boy said. "Since you don't have any plans… quit bitching, cabrón, I know it's true. … On Tuesday a bunch of us are going to the trampoline park, you know the one?"
"You mean the one near the mall?"
"Yeah, that's it. Like, half the guys on the team are going to be there around 11 for like an hour or two. Then we'll get lunch at the food court and hang around the mall for a while. You should come with us. … And bring you're Dwee-" Jorge stopped in mid-word at the dirty look Ben shot at him and chuckled. "Fine, have it your way. Your not-a-girlfriend! … She can ask her hot friend to come, too. Or am I not supposed to say that, either?" He twitched his eyebrows at Ben.
Ben just rolled his eyes and snorted. He knew Army Girl was interested as much as Jorge was, so that wasn't a hard sell. His Dweeb had talked about using trampolines for gymnastics practice so she'd most likely want to go, too. Her practices had ended for the holidays, but she maybe could use this time, and he'd get a chance to see what she could do before her upcoming meet in January.
"Yeah, sure, I'll check. I'll let you know."
Jorge grunted an acknowledgment, then looked at him closely for a few steps.
"Now what?" Ben asked in a long suffering voice.
"Listen, ese, why don't you just come out and admit you're dating?"
You don't know how much I wish I could! Ben screamed inwardly. He considered his answer for a few seconds - his teammate wasn't giving him the usual grief, and instead seemed genuinely curious. He could give a more honest, if incomplete, answer.
"Our parents aren't exactly on board with that. You know?" He said quietly, and shrugged his shoulders.
Jorge took another two steps in silence, then stopped at the intersection where they'd go down different hallways. "Huh. Yeah, I hear ya. … Dude, you don't like to do anything the easy way, do you?"
Before Ben could reply, they were interrupted by one of the girls in his next class.
"Finally! I was wondering when you'd be here…" Monica said from where she was standing at the corner. She glanced at the other boy for a second. "Hi Jorge."
Ben watched his friend give the girl an appreciative look before quirking his eyebrows once at him with a quick smirk. Ben gave him a half eye roll before Jorge turned to go down the other hallway. "Hey Monica. … See ya later, Diez."
"Have you figured out the topic for the report?" Monica asked as they walked down the hall to their class, referring to the research paper that was due when they got back from the break. It wasn't all that unusual for her to talk to him, they'd done a group writing assignment a couple weeks ago, and she had always been nice to him, even when he was just the class dumbass.
"I'm not sure. I've got a couple ideas, depends on how much background info I can find." he replied. And on how study time with his Dweeb went, he didn't say.
"Well, I'd be happy to work together. If you want." she said bashfully, looking at him sideways as they walked.
Ben held in a groan. This shouldn't be surprising, given all the other shows of interest he'd gotten this past week. At least Monica seemed genuine, not another try to drag him into the cool kids group and the plastic, money-focused world they lived in. One he had no chance of being part of, and one he had no desire to be in.
Besides being nice, this classmate was smart, always on the honor list, and involved in other school activities; she was big in the drama club, he recalled. But she never acted stuck up about it. It didn't hurt that she was cute.
But she couldn't compare to his Dweeb in any way. Even if Gwen wasn't a hero, she was so much more awesome than any girl in his school.
He didn't mind being a bit jerky to the snotty girls, but there was no point in being mean to any of them. Especially the ones who really were nice. The same excuse would work for all of them, but he changed how he said it.
"Sorry, Monica, my family has plans over the break. I really don't have any free time." He'd never seen her outside school, accidentally crossing paths and a store or a restaurant or anything; that wasn't likely to happen over the next couple of weeks, so the lie wouldn't be discovered. Sometimes it was a little scary how easily he could spit out the lies, but this one really didn't hurt anyone. If he could just say out loud what he was feeling, that the rumors were true and he did have a girlfriend, all these other problems would be so much easier. He looked over at the girl as they walked and tried to look apologetic. "Maybe if we do another group project in class…"
She gave him a funny look. "Yeah, OK. I get it." she said quietly. She smiled bashfully but kept walking alongside him. Still friendly. "Maybe then."
Tuesday, December 19, 2000
Gwen's bedroom
2:27 AM
Gwen Tennyson never had any problems sleeping before that fateful summer-long road trip with Grandpa Max and Ben. Even with the animosity between her and the antagonistic jerk at the start of it, she never lost sleep over anything. Not that she cared at the time, but as far as she knew neither did the brat. Sleep came naturally, as it was supposed to, and she never gave it a thought.
That was before the trip got weird. The arrival of the Omnitrix led to their 'heroing' activities, since the little dumbass, surprisingly, turned out to have a strong inclination to stop innocent people from getting hurt. And the continuing interruptions in their lives by aliens wanting to take the thing demanded that he use his alien transformations to keep himself, and by extension her and their grandfather, safe as well. After some of their adventures, Gwen would often get dreams where she replayed the action and aftermath of heroing. Sometimes those dreams were less than pleasant, but they never kept her from sleeping. The thrill of helping people more than compensated for a strange but otherwise non-intrusive dream once in a while.
Except when her dweeb cousin would murmur in agitation and thrash around during his sleep and rouse her. She'd check on him in the dark, at first just hoping that he'd shut up. But the sight of him rustling under his sheet, calling out softly to warn the victims of a bad guy or alien attack and crying out that he - then, after the fourth episode or so and to her utter amazement, they - were coming to help, made her feel sympathetic. She sometimes whispered to him that he was OK, that he helped those people, next to his ear to try and calm him, and astonishingly it worked. He never woke up from his unpleasant dreams, and she could get back to sleep herself after he stopped thrashing around and went back to quiet rest.
It wasn't until that damn Watch started a countdown that turned out to be a self-destruct sequence, and the subsequent flight into space to find the inventor of the thing and disarm it, that their sleep got really disturbed. Ben's because of the trauma of that multi-day near-death event, and her's due to saving him from a violent attack by alien flourana. The saving worked out for him, but she got caught by the attack instead, and had her own almost-died episode. The fact that both survived led to an amazing display of overjoyed emotion from her doofus cousin, in the middle of a battle no less.
That happy event didn't carry into their dreams, though; at least not enough to prevent debilitating PTSD in the form of a sudden devastating impact on both their sleeping habits, as they endured full-on nightmares that replaced the bad dreams. Night visions that included horrific scenes of being swallowed whole or exploding, watching each other get injured and maimed and worse, of seeing the other torn away or otherwise gone from their lives. And somehow the last threat turned out to be the most horrible, something Gwen would have never imagined possible the day they both turned 10.
Then they learned about night terrors, because nightmares weren't horrific enough. And the resulting cold sweats, trembling and lurching bolt upright in the middle of the night desperately trying to stop the racing heart and heaving breaths, and screaming and crying into a pillow before anyone came to investigate. The topics of the dreams changed and got additions over the years, but the effects were persistent. Disturbed, not at all restful if not downright terrifying nights became too common for them both.
The only thing that made these episodes endurable was the way he tried, and always succeeded, to comfort her. His physical presence and gentle murmurs kept her from screaming panic attacks. She tried her best to do the same for him. If nothing else, he never complained.
Gwen learned that her attempts to calm the night-terrorized boy worked best with a hands-on approach. After the first time she empathetically climbed into his bunk to hold the twitching, whimpering boy she had started thinking of as more than just family she had to tolerate, the follow-on hugs and touches lost their ickiness and became easier. She wouldn't say she liked doing it at first, because his trauma was so bad and scary, but she was happy that her presence made him feel better.
Just as she could never want those dreams herself. But the feeling of her Doofus pressed firmly against her back, arms warm and protective around her as similar whispers and caresses brought her back from the horrors in her dreams, was something she was grateful beyond wards for. One of the things she grew to love him for.
So when these horrible dreams continued into the school year, she actually anticipated that she would soon feel her mattress shifting, then him pressed against her and the puffs of his breath on her ear as he murmured to her. Until she remembered he was in his own bed, in his own house across town, and he couldn't do what she urgently wanted.
What she needed.
When the most recent version of her worst nightmare replayed again, she woke up to find herself shaking, tangled in her sheets and covered in sweat despite the cold winter night. Before she oriented herself she felt the absence of that desperately needed consolation, mentally calling out Ben, where are you?! The subject of these repeating dreams was, sadly, well known since shortly after their incident with The Liar - the tragic scene of her Doofus acknowledging that since his feelings for her were not reciprocated, he would stop inflicting himself on her. Only this time something in her subconscious drove the spike deeper into her heart - he was grief stricken that even though he openly confessed his love for her, she couldn't do the same. Without hearing her say the words, the boy in her dream concluded she didn't, couldn't love him. Her lack of bravery let him slip away, just as the Poodle predicted. And the boy she did love was on the path they both feared, the one that led to Ben 10000.
It isn't true! she thought as she collapsed back to the mattress. It wasn't…. She knew her Doofus cared for her, he wanted her, he wouldn't leave her. He told her so! She knew he loved her. And she loved him, and was ready to say so when the time was right. Soon, she almost had it figured out…
But until then, the mental anguish was too much, and she couldn't get the relief only he could give her. It just isn't fair! she cried into her pillow as she muffled the sobs that went with those thoughts.
After a few moments of despair took their course, her tears stopped. There was something she could do that would be a physical reminder of having her Doofus there with her, something she hadn't done 'til now because… How could she possibly explain it if she got caught? It was almost too embarrassing to even think about, and yet she couldn't stop.
She sat up on the side of her bed and stared at the window. She could fly to his house in less than five minutes - magic really was a magical thing, she could almost hear him say, through her grim, tear clouded half-smile - but that was too much to take a chance on; she hadn't quite gotten the hang of making the false image charm yet. Instead, she got up and walked to her dresser, the nightgown she wore to sleep that was bunched-up at her waist fell to cover her from her neck to her knees. After rummaging at the back of the bottom drawer, she smiled at the piece of cloth she brought out for the first time since their Thanksgiving trip with Grandpa. In a smooth motion she pulled the nightgown off and replaced it with a familiar white T shirt with black stripes.
Gwen gave the mirror an approving look as she wrapped her arms around her middle before she went back to her bed and got under the covers. As she settled in, she pulled the collar over her nose so the part of the shirt that had covered the Doofus's chest was right there and inhaled. She smiled again at the smell that proved he wore it before she swiped it, and let it settle back at her neck. If he couldn't be here to hold her, the shirt he wore that now hugged her body would do.
She briefly wondered how much her parents would over-react if they caught her in it, especially since there was nothing between it and her besides her usual cotton underwear. It would be pretty bad, no doubt! But they had given her a lot more latitude for privacy when she had her bedroom door shut after the October arrival of her womanhood; they wouldn't open her door without her say so for anything short of a fire.
Gwen took a deep breath and sighed slowly, enjoying the feel of his clothes and still detectable scent as she pulled the sheet to her chin. She'd prefer having him sleeping here and feeling his body against hers, like they they did on the last camping trip, but this would have to do. She would happily take whatever comfort she could get.
- M -
9:15 AM
"Good morning, Michelle!" Mrs Tennyson said cheerily as she answered the front door. "Come on in. … Gwen hasn't come downstairs yet, I'm not even sure she's gotten up. I'm surprised I haven't at least heard her, now that you're here." the woman sighed with a bit of disapproval. "Go on up and get her going. I'll take you to the trampoline park when she's ready."
"Thanks Mrs Tennyson" Michelle said over shoulder as she started up the stairs.
She tapped on her friend's bedroom door gently before edging it open and poking her head inside for a discreet look, in case the girl with brighter red hair than her mom was really still asleep. She should have been up by now, but Michelle was careful anyway, given their previous experience. Gwen could sometimes be twitchy when she got woken up.
"Hey, Crazy Girl, are you up yet?" she asked quietly. The lump in the bed didn't stir, with only her blazing hair visible on a pillow above the covers. Michelle let out a soft "Hmmpf" as she crept in and gently closed the door before she turned around to face the bed.
And - Surprise! - there was Gwen, somehow sitting up with the sheet covering her lap! She was wearing a white T shirt with black stripes, and blinking her eyes at her hands resting in her lap. How did she get up so quickly without making a sound?! There wasn't even any rustling of sheets.
"Good morning, lazy butt! I thought you'd be ready to go by now!" she called brightly. She walked to the foot of the bed and sat down.
"'Morning, 'Chelle" Gwen said sleepily, then let loose a jaw cracking yawn as she stretched her arms over her head. "Sorry. I didn't sleep well last night, guess I didn't hear my alarm."
"Again?" Michelle asked worriedly. "Are you OK?" Gwen sometimes had really bad dreams, based on the way she tossed and turned and cried out on a few sleepovers. She never talked about them, and as much as Michelle loved teasing her sometimes uptight friend, she never did about the nightmares. They seemed somehow intensely personal. Especially when more often than not the name she called out in a shaky voice was 'Doofus', sometimes during the dream and sometimes just when she woke up.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Gwen said quietly. She flipped the covers off her lap and swung her bare and athletic legs over the edge of the bed. Legs Michelle would die for, that her BFF had because of all the time spent doing gymnastics, dance and karate. She stood up gracefully, showing all of those legs from her bare heels up to the bottom of the t shirt that just managed to hide where her thighs would meet her seemingly otherwise uncovered cheeks.
Michelle took in a sharp breath. "When did you start sleeping without underwear on, you crazy thing?" she asked, slightly shocked at her friends skimpy sleeping attire.
"I have some on!" Gwen said indignantly. "They just don't show under my shirt!"
"That's still pretty risqué" Michelle replied "You don't wear only that around your parents?"
Gwen looked in horror at their reflection in the mirror over her dresser. "Of course not! Mom would have a conniption! I can't even imagine letting Daddy see me wearing this!" Michelle was inwardly relieved that Gwen's face started to turn pink. Her friend's parents were only a little less conservative than hers about personal modesty, from what she could tell after hanging around since almost the day they met. The idea of her oh-so-proper friend running around the house wearing that in front of her even more proper mother was unfathomable.
Michelle replied "Well that's good to- " with a relieved voice before another thought took over. "Wait, I've seen that shirt before…" She snapped her fingers a couple times thinking, then blurted out "Oh my gawd, that's Watch Boy's shirt! When did you start wearing his clothes?!"
"'Che-elle!" Gwen whisper-shouted to shush her, then answered bashfully "I swiped it from him on our last trip after Thanksgiving. I just wanted something of his to have near me. He won't miss it, it's getting kind of small on him. I only wore it to sleep once!"
Michelle let a knowing smirk grow on her face. "Do do you share any other clothes with him?"
"No, I just have this." Gwen said absently as she reached her dresser and put a gray river stone on the top and got out some clothes for the day. She pulled Ben's shirt over her head to reveal powder blue and off-white striped panties and her pale, bare back, then bent down over a bottom drawer to stash the boyfriend apparel.
Michelle snickered and used the tease that was right there. "Nice underwear! Does he get to see that view?"
"Of course not!" Gwen gasped as she pulled a sports bra over her head, followed by her usual t shirt. "At least not since…" she mumbled a tad too loudly.
"WHAT?! He has seen you like that?!" Michelle gasped. It wasn't unusual for the crazy girl to say what she was thinking without realizing it like that, but this admission was more than she could ignore.
"SSHHH! Not so loud!" her friend hissed. "Only on the first summer trip! And it was a complete accident!" Gwen rushed to explain. "We walked in on each other changing a couple times and saw each other in just underwear. It's not that different than what we wear swimming!" As if that old excuse would work. The crimson shade on her face gave thataway.
"And there was the one time when I just got out of the shower… but he only saw my rear end and back! I saw his butt once back then, too. But nothing else! And we both thought it was just gross then!" Gwen finished pulling on a shirt over some stretchy jeans and grabbed a pair of socks. Michelle giggled at how her friend tended to babble when she was flustered instead of clamming up, often revealing surprising bits and pieces of her life that she'd never talk about otherwise. She got such juicy blackmail material this way!
Not that she'd actually use it.
But it was fun to tease with. "And what do you think of your boy-toy's tushie now?" Michelle smirked again.
"I don't!" Gwen humpfed as her face reached the same shade as her flaming hair. She finished putting on her shoes and stood up. "Geez, 'Chelle, you're such a pervert!" She abruptly turned towards the door and started towards it. "Come on!" she grumped in a very irritated voice.
"Liar!" Michelle murmured around another giggle to her BFF's back as they walked out of her bedroom towards the stairs and the minivan that would take them to the mall.
.
.
NOTES
Songs for this chapter.
Can't Fight This Feeling, REO Speedwagon
Can't Stop Loving You, Van Halen
I Was Born to Love You, Queen
Hooked on a Feeling, Blue Swede