Disclaimer: I wish I owned TBC.

A/N: First "Breakfast Club" fic. Allison/Bender friendship, because if you watch them in the movie they've got really good chemistry. In a friendship sort of way. So this is my attempt, but if you think the dialogue is off and they're not really in character, please tell me. I strive to capture characters properly.

"Hey Allie," Bender said, taking the bleacher seats two at a time to get where the dark-haired girl was sitting. She looked up at him and pursed her lips slightly.

"Hmmph."

"Been talking to Andy? Allie and Andy - " He paused, briefly, considering. "Aw, it rhymes - how cute."

Allison glared at him briefly, then looked back into her lap.

He sat down beside her, first looking out to the empty field, then back at her.

"I talk to him. It's like talking to you." She glanced up at him, smiling slightly. "Pointless." There was a silence and Bender smiled slightly. Allison continued. "Claire?"

Bender shrugged casually, but Allison stared at him for a while longer, hair falling back into her face. He laughed slightly, then looked pointedly at her. "What did I expect?"

"What you expected was different than what you hoped," Allison replied, reaching out and gently touching the diamond earring on his left ear.

He stared back at her. "Klepto - you owe me a knife and a lock."

Allison scrunched up her nose and looked back down at her feet, clicking her heels togethe distractedly. "You should...Tell her."

"Tell her what?" Bender asked, sounding a little on edge, like he was wary of her.

"That you don't want her picture for your wallet."

"How did you -?"

"I have your wallet." Allison pulled it out of her bag. "Or how did I know about Claire?"

"The wallet. I meant the wallet," he responded, looking back out at the field and turning his expression fierce.

"Stop faking. Stop dying so early. Just the drugs and the attitude don't mean you're actually living."

"Compared to you?"

Allison smiled at him. "You still have a chance. You have Claire. You have that promise. You have people who listen when you talk, Bender - everyone listens when you talk."

"Don't talk so much. It's unnerving."

"Don't avoid what I say."

"If I have a chance, you have a chance. You've got Sporto."

"I've got a boy who won't talk to me. A boy who likes to see my face but won't look at it."

"And a purple car."

She glared at him again and he smirked at her. "We're not different, you know. We're exactly the same."

"How?"

"Hopes and expectations that don't match up."

"That's only one thing that we have in common."

"Why are you here?"

"I had nothing better to do." He smirked at her, and she was tempted to hide back in her hood. He was John Bender. He was more fragile than he let on. He liked Claire Standish. He had drugs. He had laughed at her. He was laughing now. He looked almost human when he laughed.

"You look almost human when you laugh."

"You sound human when you talk instead of squeaking."

"Why are you here?"

He paused and eyed her, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. She matched his movements.

"Claire."

Allison looked down across the field, then back to John. "I'll do anything for a million dollars," she whispered softly.

"I thought you said anything sexual. Which I wouldn't mind right now."

Allison stuck her tongue out at him. "You don't have the money. Besides, it's just to get away..."

He looked at her for a moment, careful, calculating. "What you said to Claire - to make her fess up - why'd you do it?"

"You wanted her to say it." He gave her a curious look. "Why'd you throw me the coke?"

"Think I was gonna hand it to you?" He looked at her. "How'd you know I was throwing it?"

"Because I did. Because I know more than you'd like to think. Quiet people hear more."

"Like what?"

"Like when you beat up Andy yesterday. In that back hallway."

John looked at her uncomfortably, shifting slightly and then jumping to his feet. "So?"

She smiled and picked at her fingers. "So why?"

"I - if you know so much, don't you already know the answer?"

"Why'd you beat him up?"

"He was being an asshole."

"You're always an asshole. Should I kick your ass?"

Bender laughed, throwing his head back to look up at the clear, crisp sky.

Allison looked at him seriously, biting her lip as if she wanted it to bleed. "Why?"

"He was being a dick, to Brian." Another casual shrug.

Allison continued to stare at him, drawing the faintest hints of blood to her paling lip.

"Ignoring him. Talking to him like he was dirt."

"He never did."

"What?" Bender said, bending down to peer at her.

"He never did, to Brian."

He stared down at her, then sighed as he sat down heavily. He threw his arms over the last railing of the bleachers. "I watched him with you. Before lunch. When you walked past him. He was being such a dick - you talked to him and he ignored you completely. Such a dick. And you talked to Claire as well and they were just being such assholes - so I kicked his ass. Not that it means anything, Klepto. I'm not a nice guy. It was more for my enjoyment." Bender looked up at the sky, down at the field, down at his shoes. "And he was being such a dick to you," he whispered finally.

Allison smiled at him. "I know."

"You know?"

"Everything. Why. How. And that it doesn't mean anything." Allison grabbed her bag from where it lay at her feet and bolted off down the bleachers, not stumbling once, and then across the field. Bender watched her go, then broke into a grin.

"You always sit here?" Bender asked as he joined Allison at the bleachers the next day.

She shook her head. "Talk to Claire?"

Bender looked at her curiously as she kept her head down and then as she broke into soft laughter.

He grinned at her, a sideways, crooked, Bender grin. "You told her?"

"I told her that you still had the earring."

"You told her to talk to me."

"That too."

He sat down beside her again, crooked grin still in place. "Can't talk to Sporto about talking to you. Sorry."

Allison shrugged. Then looked across the field where a girl with bright red hair and a pink coat stood, looking across to them with a mixture of apprehension and fondness in her eyes. Allison looked over at Bender, who had lost his grin, and smiled at him. "She's not here for me."

John grinned again, stood up, and began to walk down the bleachers. Halfway down he stopped and turned to look up at her. "You wanna come to a heavy metal vomit party sometime, Klepto?"

"Do I have to dress like you?"

Bender's laugh echoed in both girls ears as he crossed the field.

John Bender liked Claire Standish. He liked looking at her. He liked kissing her. He liked her earring in his ear. He liked her clothes. He maybe even liked a little that she was a tease. He was willing to stop being such an ass just for her. He would tell his friends to fuck off so he could spend time with her. He was crossing a field to her looking as confident as he always looked but feeling more fragile than he'd ever felt before.

John Bender liked Allison Reynolds. He liked talking to her. He liked watching her because her expressions could give away everything that she was thinking or nothing that she was thinking. He liked that she could steal a wallet off of him. He liked that she could catch a coke can that he randomly threw at her. He had beaten up a guy for her. He didn't wanted to sleep with her. He was going to take her to a heavy metal vomit party. They were going to get high together. And someday, maybe, they'd run away in her stupid purple car - just because they could.

A/N: There's a little button down there that wants you to press it - even if you disliked the fic, tell me - but have a valid reason, OK? Don't just write ' that sucks. you suck' because it doesn't give me much to work with.