Rated T. A/B/O Dynamics. Drama/Humor.

Michelle continues to be helpful. Jackson does Not appreciate it.

Avoidance is Futile

Jackson was going to kill Michelle.

Or, well, he'd attempt. It was Michelle after all.

But, point remains! He had reason to try now!

"Are you attempting to glare the door open?" Ramona chuckled behind him. Jackson turned his head to see her leaning back against the twins' bunkbead, laughing at him.

Eyes scrunched up and everything!

Mean.

Cute! But mean…

"No," Jackson huffed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he turned back to the door, "I am plotting Michelle's demise."

"Uh-huh…" Ramona nodded, lips pursed. She cleared her throat, tossing her head to the side, "Shouldn't we, I don't know, focus on getting out first?"

Jackson ignored her.

Her and her sarcasm!

There was no way he could exit this room without a revenge plot and actually succeed. He had to have the plan ready or Michelle would see it coming.

"Did the twins actually live in this room?" Ramona turned in the center of the room. Her head thrown back and her eyes narrowed as she spun, knocking Jackson as she surveyed the tiny bedroom.

Well, technically it was a closet. Jackson was pretty sure about that.

"No, their room was on the other side, this was the closet," Jackson shrugged, throat bobbing when Ramona knocked in to him mid-turn.

Ramona snorted, "Of course." She rolled her eyes, "I knew no one in this family could've subjected them to this shoebox."

"I mean, their actual room was only like, twice this size?" Jackson scrunched up his nose and tried to recall what Uncle Jesse had said, "Mom said they moved out when the twins got too old to, essentially, share a room with their parents."

"So…what happened to the room then?" Ramona gestured out and her arm, and her scent, hit Jackson in the face.

Because of course it did.

Her suppressant still smelled like rancid lemon juice. His eyes fluttered as the scent *burned* his eyes.

"Could you not do that?" Jackson grabbed Ramona's wrist when the arms flew out again.

Her skin was chilly.

Ramona blinked at him, mouth dropping open mid-rant. Something about child rights and lies of omission, Jackson had long since tuned her out.

"Right." Ramona's giggle was nervous as she pulled her hand back. Jackson pursed his lips and dropped his hands to his sides.

Awkwardness intensified.

Jackson was going to kill Michelle.

How had she even managed to trick them both?

Okay, yes, Jackson was sleep-deprived and he'd only woken up ten minutes ago. But Ramona?!

Ramona is… well, Ramona. He's fairly positive she's suppose to be the competent teenage person in this household.

"How did Michelle get *you* in here?" Jackson turned to ask her, arms folding over his chest as Ramona blushed.

"Uh…" she backed into the bunk beds, hands rising to tuck her hair behind her ear.

Nervous gesture. Sus.

"Ramona?" Jackson stepped closer. He sniffed lightly, hoping he could get past the suppressant to smell an emotional shift.

No dice. Lame.

"She might have, uh…" Ramona cleared her throat, "Told me you wanted to talk and then shoved me in."

Jackson blinked. His feet shuffled beneath him.

Yeah… that tracked.

Not that he was avoiding Ramona! But…

"You've basically been avoiding me since the whole heat/pheromone party… fiasco."

The Incident. Take 2.

In his defense, Jackson doesn't do awkward well.

"It's a little awkward?" Jackson offered and then promptly turned back around to glare at the door.

Revenge plans be damned, he just wanted out!

"Well, since we're here…" Ramona stepped up behind him. The taste of lemons lingered on Jackson's tongue when he took a breath. Ramona pushed at his shoulder, "…we should talk."

Nope.

No.

Why was his stupid alpha strength not helping here? Surely being locked in a closet with his - whatever the hell Ramona was! - should be triggering some sort of adrenal response?

Was that not how these things were suppose to work? Could his alpha instincts not give him this just one time?!

The door did not open. The handle didn't even have the kindness to break off in his hand or something.

Jackson groaned and pressed his forehead into the wood, "Do we have to?"

"Yes." Ramona snapped and tugged at his arm till he turned around. Then she tripped.

Because that was how life just went for him apparently?

And she fell literally into his chest. That's just…

Ramona sprung back, arms wrapping around herself, "Sorry?"

Somewhere, some divine something or other was probably laughing at him. Jackson could feel it in his soul.

It might just have been Michelle though.

He did not put placing pinhole cameras past her at all. Hell, she could have the whole house wired and Jackson would not be shocked.

"So…" Jackson waved his hands towards Ramona, "Talking?"

She rolled her eyes, hands moving to her hips, "Why do I have to start?"

Jackson squinted at her, "Because you're the one that wants to talk!"

Her hands flew up, "And you're the one avoiding me! So just! Tell me why!"

No.

That was a hard no. A hell no. A 'I'm a teenage boy and unable to express my feelings' no.

No amount of Tanner Family hugs were going to change that. If she wanted him to express this particular feeling, she was going to have to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.

Ramona stepped closer again, finger raised to jab at his shoulder, "You're being annoying." She jabbed at him again, "Just tell me or…"

Jackson raised a brow as Ramona trailed off.

She had nothing to hold against him. Not a thing. No threat would-

"Or I'll ask my doctor to double my suppressants!" Ramona snapped her fingers, smile vicious and eyes narrowed.

"That's low." Jackson wrinkled his nose at the very thought of those damn suppressants getting stronger. "Do you not want me to breathe or something?"

Ramona shrugged, straightening as she folded her arms and pursed her lips. Her chin was raised high, her nose in the air, "I want an answer."

Credit where credit was due, that was a good threat. Max worthy even.

"Still no." Jackson smirked, ducking his head, "I use the boys' locker room, Ramona, remember?"

No suppressant could ever be That Bad.

She took another step. Well, a half step.

Her crossed arms were now touching his chest. Her head was tossed back so she could glare up at him properly.

Ramona was *entirely* too close right now. Jackson felt his heart rate rising at the proximity. His throat bobbed and Ramona's eyes flickered down to the movement.

Damn it.

"Jackson…" Ramona's voice was low and firm as she looked him up and down. He tried very hard not to fidget under her gaze.

His fingers twitched.

Her lips twisted into a smirk as she looked back up into his eyes, "…are you having a problem with me standing here?"

Yes. Yes. Very much so.

"No." Jackson's voice sounded more like a croak even to him and he flinched as Ramona's lips spread wider in a some sort of manical grin.

Maybe he wouldn't kill Michelle. Maybe he should just runaway, change his name, and pretend none of this ever happened.

Yes. That sounded good. He liked that.

It was probably more likely to succeed too.

"Look, Ramona, could we just-"

And then she kissed him.

It was a very brief kiss. Light. Barely a peck really.

"Could we just what?" Ramona asked, officially leaning up against him now. She had her hands pressed against his chest, lips twisted into an amused smirk as Jackson stammered.

"Nevermind," Jackson ducked his head and kissed her again. It was significantly better than a peck, but slower than every other kiss they'd shared.

A gentle press of lips that moulded together like bread. She did not taste like lemons, which he was very very thankful for.

Jackson felt the heat rising in his head as his hands grasped at Ramona's waist. Her hands moved up, fingers twisting into his hair.

They'd kissed before, but this wasn't that. Jackson didn't feel like touching her was ripping at the edges of his control for one.

Another was the contented little sigh that Ramona hummed against his lips. Everything felt lighter this time, like they were floating, the only thing anchoring them to the world was each other.

And the door. Which very suddenly gave way.

He really just did not catch breaks. At all.

They toppled out, Jackson falling backwards and Ramona landing right on top of him.

"Not what I was expecting to find in the closet," Nicky blinked down at them. He was wearing his signature beanie and his eyes were scrunched up in confusion, "Why were you in the closet?"

"Michelle locked us in," Jackson cleared his throat as he and Ramona disentangled themselves. Nicky's brow rose.

Alex snorted beside him, "That door doesn't even have a lock." Alex was smirking, eyes sparkling with mischief in a very familiar manner.

Sometimes, Jackson forgot how close Michelle and the twins were.

Nicky started chuckling, ducking his head and falling in to his brother as Alex smirked down at the two blushing teens.

This was not one of those times.

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