Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers and I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I've been going through a lot...

In response to the comment about Trixie being shallow and only being portrayed like that in the show, I whole-heartedly apologize. I strive to give the FOP characters the depth they sorely deserve, and perhaps Trixie needs a little more. I'll do my best to try to delve into her.

Disclaimer: Contrary to what anyone thinks, I continue to not own FOP. Although I think I've explained things better than the show by far, I can't claim ownership. The writers just don't want the show to grow beyond a simple cartoon, whereas I do. That's probably why I'll never own it.

Chapter Five: Perceptions

After their meeting, the rest of the date progresses in silence. Neither speaks a word as Mr. Tang orders them back to their limo and they proceed to return to Timmy's house first, to drop him off, and then home. Well, in retrospect, it wasn't a complete disaster.

But it might as well have been, Trixie thinks dejectedly. No one has ever passed her father's dinner test and the cards are already stacked quite high against him. In fact, she can't think of a single way in which Timmy could make himself look good in his eyes, except if his parents were suddenly rich and he went on every television in the country and apologized for barging into the Tang's mansion due to a folly of his own.

She can't believe it's just one event that's got her father so displeased with him. Then again, she really shouldn't underestimate the power of first impressions on a family- once they found out that her mother was pregnant, never mind who the father was, she had to leave. She wasn't a Tang, nor would she ever be.

However, Trixie is a Tang, and with that name comes prestige. Prestige she understands she may lose, at least in social circles, by becoming Timmy's girlfriend. But is it all that grand? Is the glitter worth the deprivation of gold?

Fortunately, her father is not present in the limo driving back. She's free to discuss with Timmy what her father expects out of him, if only he'd listen. Apparently, he's so downcast from the argument, he barely notices her.

Sighing, she places her hand atop his. She doesn't want him to be as miserable as he's made himself; she wants him to be happy. Just because her father doesn't like him doesn't mean all hope is lost...although it might as well be...

Once again, the oddly colored cups make an appearance, but they pay them little mind. Wherever they come from, they are insignificant now and remain thus. The important thing becomes ensuring Timmy is no longer ignorant to what is obligatory.

"Timmy..." Trixie sighs, leaning against him. He blushes crimson and pushes her away. Of course, her father must have rendered him too frightened to make even the slightest move on her. He needn't be so worked up, she'd see him no matter what the situation merited, including sneaking out.

Warily, he ropes an arm around her waist. His heart beats frantically and he sees stars. He can't believe the prettiest girl in his class wants to be with him, of all people.

Well, that's what she assumes he's thinking. She can't tell for certain, naturally, but he has to be thinking this. What else could he be thinking, that he wants Tootie instead? That's a laugh; no one wants that repugnant little brat around.

And even if she had made a move on him, which, come to think of it, was more than likely, she knows he'd never reciprocate. He'd just shove her away and pine after her, the fabulous Trixie Tang...who is now within his grasp. The thought makes her smile.

For once, the first time in her life she's ever experienced it, Timmy is seemingly lost in thought, biting his lip pensively. No matter how she tries to coax him into a conversation, he will not be wheedled into it. So much for the perfect date...why didn't Cosmopolitan tell you about the dangers of your father coming in midway along a date? Surely all of their readers couldn't be adult females.

Time passes indiscriminately and they arrive quickly at his house. Trixie opens her mouth to say something, anything comforting, but he merely shakes his head, retrieves the oddly colored cups, and disperses. If she didn't know better, she'd swear there's a shadow moving behind the curtains at Tootie's house, watching them from afar. Nah, she's just paranoid because of her father.

Nevertheless, the date is over. All she has to worry about now is the dinner...joy. No one's ever passed one of her father's dinners, with or without her coaching. Timmy's doomed.

Together, they walk out of the limo and up to the door. Although she holds his hand, she senses no jubilation from him by doing so. His palms are sweaty, but a sneaky voice in her head whispers this might not be due to her. Why must her insecurity show now? He is hers, he will forever be hers, nothing less and nothing more.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Trixie says sorrowfully, clasping his hand between hers. Once again, she wonders about the lack of emotional warmth from him. Why the chill? What has she done to merit it?

"Yeah..." Timmy echoes sadly, head hung low. Truly, he has no great confidence in himself and passing Mr. Tang's requirements- he's a dead pink hatted boy walking. The truth is evident in his eyes.

"Can you see me tonight?" She inquires anxiously, biting her pink glossy bottom lip. Grr, she despises this situation, feeling helpless, powerless. For once in her life, she's not the one calling the shots.

"Will your father let me?" Idly kicking a stone aside, he asks dejectedly. His hair falls over his eyes, but he allows it to remain there. Aw...now he looks even more depressed.

"Who said my father was involved in this?" Wagging her finger, she grins devilishly at him. "He doesn't expect you until tomorrow."

"So then what?" He gives her a quizzical look. Poor boy, he's so inexperienced. She's going to have to break him in...if she ever gets the chance. Darn her father.

"C'mon, Timmy, haven't you heard of sneaking out?" Yeesh...who's he raised by, monks? Who hasn't heard of sneaking out? Wouldn't that be the first thing to come to most people's minds? Then again, he isn't terribly smart...

"Yeah, but...I don't want to get caught..." He says uncertainly, causing her to giggle. Not only is he naïve, ignorant, and a little absent in the brains department, he actually thinks he's going to get caught. Will she have to teach him everything? (And will she have time...what if her father forces her bodyguards to follow her?)

A chill wind kicks up; she shivers. Unfortunately, as he has no jacket to offer her, he does not do the gentlemanly thing and place it around her shoulders. Oddly enough, he fails to warm her at all. What weighs so heavily on his mind that he forgoes the usual common decencies?

Scowling and irritated he isn't behaving in the manner with which she is accustomed to, she grabs his arm and drapes it around her. The curtains in Tootie's room shift again- so the little brat is watching them. Psycho.

"You're not going to get caught..." She lies, plastering a smile on her face. The thought suddenly occurs to her that her cell phone has a tracking device on it...and she has no idea if anything else she owns does. Both of them might be in a heap of trouble before they could say "fairy godparents" and spazz out.

However, as she said before, nothing can keep her from Timmy. She'll fight everything, including her father, to stay by him. Her father can go jump off a cliff, because Timmy means more to her than his stupid rules, rules that keep her mother away...

No longer turned towards him, she bites down harder on her lip and accidentally draws blood. Thoughts of her mother always invoke such a reaction in her, despite any attempts to stifle it. She wishes her mother were around to coach her on this...

"What's the matter?" Timmy asks, jerking out of his own reverie, whatever that might be, to gaze at her. (When she turned away, his arm fell to his side and he makes no efforts to alter its position). Finally, concern- she knew he cared. Still, a nasty voice whispers in her head, that's not what's troubling you, is it?

I wonder where she is...I wonder how I could ever find her...Never mind. I'm a Tang, and she's an outcast. She's nothing to me, nothing! Now if only I believed that...

"Hey," He says after a moment's pause, "I've seen your father but I've never seen your mother. What's she like?"

Abruptly, her whole façade freezes. Pivoting, she faces him again and glowers icily. Poor Timmy has done nothing to deserve her fury, but she can't help herself. Her mother is not the topic for casual conversation.

"I believe I have to return home promptly," She retorts, folding her arms across her chest. Placed in an uncomfortable situation, she always defers to the cool, collected self she feigns to be in school. To any other person who dare speak it to her face, the term would be 'defense mechanism'.

"Yeah, but you never answered my question..." Dumbfounded, he gawks. Almost as though it's written on his forehead, she can read him- 'what have I done wrong?' 'why are you being so cold?'. Well, if she could answer that, she'd have to tell him more than she ever planned to. It all returned to the idea that he was a boy...and not worthy of knowing her too personally.

"Got to go!" Chirping it with false bravado, she pecks him on the cheek, climbs into the limo, and it pulls away, tires screeching. One calamity avoided, but what's the next? The plagues that rocked Egypt have now come to Dimmsdale...

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