This is a SINGLE FIC. A short, short, STAN ALONE. AKA, makes way for Tuck Everlasting 2. Unless I get a ton and a half of reviews, this is the end. Anyway, this is how the movie should have ended. I don't own Tuck Everlasting. I don't own the actor who played Jesse, although I really, really want to. I guess, in theory, I own Winn. Anyway, review and let me know what you think!
Jesse Tuck stared down at the grave of his true love. "Winnie..."
"Hello?" a voice rang out from the other side of the bushes. "Is anyone there?"
Jesse had to fight back a coughing fit as he heard the voice. It was musical, magical, and what he'd been longing to hear for so many years. He hid behind the tree, waiting.
A girl pushed her way in through the bushes, no older than 17. She had long brown hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore tight black jeans and a tighter blue baby-doll tee that had a monkey on front. She had a black Gap sweatshirt. Even still, there was no denying she looked like Winnie might after two of three years. She'd even answered to the name, Jesse defended to himself.
Jesse stared. "Winnie?" Maybe he was going psycho. It could happen after 200 years as a teenager. Jesse, the indestructible schizophrenic...
She stared at him. "Do I know you?"
Jesse ignored the question, needing to know if he was nuts. "Winnie Foster?"
She slowly started to move away. "People call me Winn. No one's called me Winnie as long as I can remember... it was what we called my great grandmother."
Winn watched as Jesse's posture went from surprised to upset. "I'm sorry. I. . . I just. . . I knew her."
"Knew who?"
"Your great grandmother."
"I don't remember you. . . did you meet her in the home?"
Jesse shock his head, trying to block the image of his Winnie in an elderly home. "No. . . I'm an old friend." He walked around her. "You look just like her."
"How would you know? You can't be that old a friend. She was 100, and you can't much older than me!"
Jesse smirked. "You have no idea."
She smiled at him, a bit confused. Suddenly, her face brightened. "Hey, is that your bike out there?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I got the cash over the summer." Okay, a lot of summers. But she didn't need to know that.
"Dude! You must have a killer job. . . that's a sweet bike."
Jesse looked at her, suddenly realizing she really wasn't Winnie. At all. "Yeah... you into bikes?"
Winn grinned. "I love them! They're my life. I've got this one bike, I got if on my 14th birthday and my parents said if I fixed it up on my own, with my own money, and a bike mechanic okayed it, then when I get my license. . ."
Jesse tuned out, watching her. She wasn't Winnie at all. She was Winn. She was of the times. She was hot. He'd never thought of Winnie as hot. She was. . . beautiful. Pretty. Sexy. Not hot, never hot. She was so. . . innocent.
Winn suddenly grabbed his arm. "Hey, you know what?"
He smiled at her, hiding the way she excited him with her touch. "What?"
"You never told me your name."
He smiled at her. "Guess."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're an odd duckling. Um. . . you look like. . . a. . . J something. John. . . Jacob. . ."
"Jingle Heimer Shmit?"
She grinned. "Just tell me!"
"Make it worth my while."
She grinned wider, beginning to pace. "I was looking at your license plate, so I know it's a J."
"Why?"
"Because. . . I just do." She pouted.
"Maybe I borrowed the bike. Maybe I just haven't gotten a new plate yet."
"Maybe you're just being annoying."
He smiled, a bit shocked at this new person wearing such a innocent face. "Make it worth my while," he said again.
She bit her lip. "Tell you what. You'll tell me your name, I'll let you let me drive your bike around the driveway."
"Oh, yeah. That sounds like a good deal."
"Doesn't it?" She wrinkled her nose. "You know you want to."
"Hey, how do you know I'm not a psycho?" he asked, changing the subject. "Didn't your mother teach you not to take rides with strangers?"
"Yeah. But you're to innocent to be psycho."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Winn admitted. "You're not really bad boy. You're a cute little boy inside."
He looked at her. "You've known me for all of 10 minutes!"
Winn smiled. "What can I say? I feel like I know you."
He paused. What the hell? It wasn't like she could really do anything to him. And there was always the chance that they'd hit it off. Anyone who could keep up with his wit couldn't be that bad. Still. . . it was weird. From Winnie and Jesse to Winn and Jesse. It seemed so much like it should be incest. Even though the two looked so alike. And he was different too.
Maybe not Winn and Jesse.
Just. . . him and her.
He held out his hand. "Come on. You're so persuasive, I've got to give in." He dangled the keys to his car.
She smiled. "Nu-uh. Name!"
"I'm. . . " he trailed off.
Winn snorted. "You forgot?"
"No, I just don't know about this random stranger thing."
"Well, if you knew my great grandmother, that makes us like old friends!"
He smirked. "Fine, Miss Winn-not-Winnie." He tossed her the keys. "I'm Jess."
REVIEW!
Jesse Tuck stared down at the grave of his true love. "Winnie..."
"Hello?" a voice rang out from the other side of the bushes. "Is anyone there?"
Jesse had to fight back a coughing fit as he heard the voice. It was musical, magical, and what he'd been longing to hear for so many years. He hid behind the tree, waiting.
A girl pushed her way in through the bushes, no older than 17. She had long brown hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore tight black jeans and a tighter blue baby-doll tee that had a monkey on front. She had a black Gap sweatshirt. Even still, there was no denying she looked like Winnie might after two of three years. She'd even answered to the name, Jesse defended to himself.
Jesse stared. "Winnie?" Maybe he was going psycho. It could happen after 200 years as a teenager. Jesse, the indestructible schizophrenic...
She stared at him. "Do I know you?"
Jesse ignored the question, needing to know if he was nuts. "Winnie Foster?"
She slowly started to move away. "People call me Winn. No one's called me Winnie as long as I can remember... it was what we called my great grandmother."
Winn watched as Jesse's posture went from surprised to upset. "I'm sorry. I. . . I just. . . I knew her."
"Knew who?"
"Your great grandmother."
"I don't remember you. . . did you meet her in the home?"
Jesse shock his head, trying to block the image of his Winnie in an elderly home. "No. . . I'm an old friend." He walked around her. "You look just like her."
"How would you know? You can't be that old a friend. She was 100, and you can't much older than me!"
Jesse smirked. "You have no idea."
She smiled at him, a bit confused. Suddenly, her face brightened. "Hey, is that your bike out there?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I got the cash over the summer." Okay, a lot of summers. But she didn't need to know that.
"Dude! You must have a killer job. . . that's a sweet bike."
Jesse looked at her, suddenly realizing she really wasn't Winnie. At all. "Yeah... you into bikes?"
Winn grinned. "I love them! They're my life. I've got this one bike, I got if on my 14th birthday and my parents said if I fixed it up on my own, with my own money, and a bike mechanic okayed it, then when I get my license. . ."
Jesse tuned out, watching her. She wasn't Winnie at all. She was Winn. She was of the times. She was hot. He'd never thought of Winnie as hot. She was. . . beautiful. Pretty. Sexy. Not hot, never hot. She was so. . . innocent.
Winn suddenly grabbed his arm. "Hey, you know what?"
He smiled at her, hiding the way she excited him with her touch. "What?"
"You never told me your name."
He smiled at her. "Guess."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're an odd duckling. Um. . . you look like. . . a. . . J something. John. . . Jacob. . ."
"Jingle Heimer Shmit?"
She grinned. "Just tell me!"
"Make it worth my while."
She grinned wider, beginning to pace. "I was looking at your license plate, so I know it's a J."
"Why?"
"Because. . . I just do." She pouted.
"Maybe I borrowed the bike. Maybe I just haven't gotten a new plate yet."
"Maybe you're just being annoying."
He smiled, a bit shocked at this new person wearing such a innocent face. "Make it worth my while," he said again.
She bit her lip. "Tell you what. You'll tell me your name, I'll let you let me drive your bike around the driveway."
"Oh, yeah. That sounds like a good deal."
"Doesn't it?" She wrinkled her nose. "You know you want to."
"Hey, how do you know I'm not a psycho?" he asked, changing the subject. "Didn't your mother teach you not to take rides with strangers?"
"Yeah. But you're to innocent to be psycho."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Winn admitted. "You're not really bad boy. You're a cute little boy inside."
He looked at her. "You've known me for all of 10 minutes!"
Winn smiled. "What can I say? I feel like I know you."
He paused. What the hell? It wasn't like she could really do anything to him. And there was always the chance that they'd hit it off. Anyone who could keep up with his wit couldn't be that bad. Still. . . it was weird. From Winnie and Jesse to Winn and Jesse. It seemed so much like it should be incest. Even though the two looked so alike. And he was different too.
Maybe not Winn and Jesse.
Just. . . him and her.
He held out his hand. "Come on. You're so persuasive, I've got to give in." He dangled the keys to his car.
She smiled. "Nu-uh. Name!"
"I'm. . . " he trailed off.
Winn snorted. "You forgot?"
"No, I just don't know about this random stranger thing."
"Well, if you knew my great grandmother, that makes us like old friends!"
He smirked. "Fine, Miss Winn-not-Winnie." He tossed her the keys. "I'm Jess."
REVIEW!