A/N: Hello, all! This is my take on the infamous lamp incident that Jacques mentioned in the episode "Hello and Dubai." Obviously, this is several years before the Ridonculous Race, so Jacques and Josée are 16 and 14.

Disclaimer: If I owned Total Drama, Jacsee would be canon, TDRR would've run for more than one season, I'd probably have a really cool office, and—okay, you get the idea.

Gravel crunched beneath wheels as a small, blue car rolled to a stop in front of the skating rink. Jacques scanned the parking lot, but aside from a few sparrows flitting across the asphalt, there was no sign of other cars or other people.

Come on, Josée, still be here! he thought anxiously, turning off the car and bounding outside. He was greeted by the brisk chill of an autumn wind, and instantly shoved his hands into his pockets. I should not have taken so many detours. Maybe her mother already picked her up.

He quickened his pace, hoping that wasn't true. He had been waiting so long for this day; it seemed unfair for Josée to leave before he even got there. Jacques's fingers brushed against the small, plastic card in his pocket, and a thread of pride trickled through his tense thoughts. It had been almost two whole days since he had earned his driver's license, and the thrill of this accomplishment had yet to wear off. Which was exactly why, when Josée had told him that her mother was dropping her off at the rink that day, he had offered to drive her home. It would be the first time he had driven her anywhere, just the two of them.

Unless she has already left, an annoying voice in his mind pointed out. I was supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. Jacques winced; that was true. The lure of driving longer had been more than he could ignore, and it wasn't until his fifth side-street that he noticed how much time had passed.

He was so focused on these thoughts that he didn't notice the glass doors open in front of him and collided head-on with the person coming out.

"Oof—Jacques!"

Looking up, Jacques came face-to-face with the very person he wanted to see. "Josée!" he exclaimed, his heartbeat speeding up in a way that had nothing to do with the excitement of driving. "You have not left yet!"

Josée raised an eyebrow, readjusting her grip on the bag she was carrying. "Wasn't that the entire point of you being here today?" she asked, her face twitching as she tried to hide an amused expression. "Which reminds me: you're late."

Jacques grinned sheepishly at her. "Only by fifteen minutes," he said, taking her bag and leading the way back to the car.

"I should be mad at you , you know," she informed him, climbing into the passenger's seat and fixing him with a stare that was far too stern to be sincere.

Jacques made a face at her, relieved that she was neither gone already nor actually angry with him. "But you are not mad," he teased. "And because I was late, you got to practice longer."

Josée finally cracked a smile, unintentionally releasing an army of butterflies in Jacques's stomach. "You're still late," she said.

"Well, I am here now," he replied, readjusting his foot on the brake pedal with a bit too much force, just to prove how "here" he really was. "So enjoy the ride."

A companionable silence fell between them as Jacques drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road. He cast several glances at Josée out of the corner of his eye, and thus noticed right away that she was watching him drive with clear fascination.

He squashed a smile, suddenly finding himself hoping that this was the first of many times he would drive her around. After all, he thought, she will not get her own license for at least two more years, so she needs a chauffeur.

"Pretty impressive, non?" he said aloud, flashing her a massive grin that, if he was being honest, probably looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

His partner's face instantly flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet. "No!" she stuttered. "I mean, yes, but—" She paused to huff indignantly before settling on, "You're supposed to be watching the road!"

Jacques laughed, not bothering to hide the affection he knew was written all across his face. He wondered if Josée knew how adorable she was when she spoke like that. "I am watching the road," he replied, then, mostly to keep her from getting any more flustered, added, "Tell me about practice. Were there too many people at the rink?"

Josée cast him a suspicious look, but replied with as much enthusiasm as she always did when asked about practice. "There weren't any more people than usual," she said. "For a Saturday, anyway."

The rest of the car ride was spent in pleasant conversation. Josée explained a new move she was working on, and Jacques told her about his driving test, and so on until, after what felt like an unfairly short amount of time, they had reached Josée's neighborhood.

I almost wish she did not live so close to the rink, Jacques mused, carefully pulling the car up to the curbside. But now that I have my license, we can do this more often. Maybe her mum will let me take her out to…

His train of thought trailed off as he glanced over at Josée, who was frowning through the window at her house.

"What is it?" he asked after a few beats of silence had passed.

"You don't think she'll be mad, do you?" his partner asked, never pulling her gaze away from the house. "Because we're late?"

Jacques leaned forward, trying to catch her eye. "We are not that late," he replied, although a subtle warning bell began to sound in the back of his mind. "Besides, she is late picking you up all the time, so why would she care if I was?"

Josée cast him an apprehensive glance, looking as if she wanted to believe him, but wasn't letting herself. Jacques allowed the silence to stretch out for a moment, abruptly wondering what exactly he was going to say to his partner's mother. Maybe she will not answer the door, suggested the overly-optimistic side of his thoughts. Or maybe she will not care as much as Josée thinks she will.

He decided to go with the second suggestion. Twisting in his seat, Jacques reached to fish Josée's bag out of the backseat, preparing to walk her to the door as he had practically every time since they met. Well, ever since his own mother had told him it was the gentlemanly thing to do, although he certainly didn't mind it like he had when he was younger.

Josée suddenly grabbed his arm, preventing him from reaching back any further. "You don't have to walk me to the door today," she said, not quite meeting his gaze. "I don't mind going alone." Her tone suggested otherwise, and Jacques gave her a reassuring smile, gently pushing past her hand and taking hold of her bag.

"I do not mind walking with you," he said, throwing open the car door and stepping out before she could argue.

She is trying to protect you, warned the more cautious side of Jacques's thoughts, all the while bringing up flashes of memory from her mother's most recent temper outbursts. He brushed them away; Josée's mother had yelled at him before, and she would yell at him again after today. What mattered was Josée, and not making her face a potentially impending tantrum alone.

Walking around the car, Jacques took his partner's hand and marched up the driveway to the front door, trying to pour as much confidence into his stride as he could. The warning bell in his head was getting louder, but if he acted worried, then Josée would worry, too.

When they reached the porch, Josée took her bag and proceeded to give him a less-than-subtle nudge back the way they had come. "Seriously, you should go," she said, lowering her voice despite the empty streets behind them.

"What?" Jacques said innocently, reaching around her to knock on the door. "Are you that eager to get rid of me?"

He had only meant to tease her, but something flickered behind Josée's eyes, and he had the sudden feeling she had taken that more literally than he intended. However, he wasn't given further time to think about it, for the front door abruptly swung open, and there stood Mariette Voland, Josée's mother.

All Jacques's previous confidence instantly drained away. The woman standing before him could only be described as fury incarnate. Her fists were balled at her sides, face contorted into a scowl that seemed to pin him to the spot. The tight bun that held her hair only served to make her look sharper and more furious.

"You," she hissed, her gaze locking on Jacques like a predator zeroing in on its prey. "How dare you arrive so late?"

Jacques opened his mouth to respond, but his mind refused to conjure up enough words for a full sentence. "I—I—er—"

"Mama," Josée interrupted desperately. "He didn't do it on pur—"

"Quiet, Josée," Mariette snapped, briefly turning her malevolent glare on her daughter before rounding on Jacques again. "I wanted her back here nearly half an hour ago!" she shouted, her voice steadily rising, along with a fire in her eyes that Jacques had seen many times. "But because of you and your laziness, I have to readjust the entire evening!"

Her voice had now reached shrieking level, and Jacques flinched back as she lunged for something just inside the door. He honestly didn't know when he started running. Logically, there had to have been a moment when he hesitated, wondering exactly what Mariette was reaching for. But all he knew was one moment he was cowering on the porch, and the next he was barreling across the yard to the freedom that was the car.

"MAMA, WAIT!"

Josée's exclamation was all the warning Jacques had before something heavy collided with his back. He hit the leaf-scattered ground with a yelp of pain, the breath instantly fleeing his lungs. Barely registering what had happened, he was back on his feet, diving around the car in hopes of hiding from any further blows. All his limbs were trembling, and his back across his shoulder blades was throbbing painfully. It took his panicked mind a few seconds to realize Mariette was no longer chasing him.

What—what happened? he wondered, cautiously peeking over the hood of the car.

On the ground, right where he had fallen, was a messy pile of shattered glass and ceramic. He squinted at it, confused, and it wasn't until he spotted a bent lampshade lying amidst the red and gold leaves that he realized what it was.

She attacked me with a lamp? It sounded so silly Jacques almost didn't believe it. He looked up just in time to see Mariette storm back into the house, and barely had time to brace himself before the door slammed shut with a force that vibrated through the air.

Jacques blinked a few times, trying to gather his thoughts. A lamp. He didn't know whether to laugh, or cry, or just stand there and be confused.

There is no way I am telling my maman about this, he thought, twisting one arm backward to delicately rub his sore shoulders. The last thing he wanted was to create more dissonance between Mariette's hairline temper and his own mother's protectiveness. Besides, any lasting ill will on Mariette's part would undoubtedly come back on Josée's head.

Josée! Jacques's thoughts came to a screeching halt. Where had his partner gone? He leaned out over the car again, rapidly scanning the front yard.

She would not have gone inside, not with her mother still so—

He once again stopped himself mid-thought as his gaze caught on the porch. Josée was sitting on the top step, elbows on her knees, face buried in her hands. Eyeing the front door warily, just in case it burst open again, Jacques edged around the car and cautiously crossed the lawn.

"Josée?" he said tentatively, flashing another glance at the door. Hopefully, Mariette had gone off to some far corner of the house and wouldn't hear him…

Josée whipped her head out of her hands, looking up at him in surprise. "Jacques?" she said. "You're still here?"

He nodded, sitting down on the step beside her. He bit back a wince, an aching throb rippling through his shoulders. That was definitely going to bruise.

Josée seemed to notice his discomfort, for her expression instantly turned concerned. "Did she hurt you badly?"

Jacques tilted his head at his partner. Was he imagining the guilt in her tone? "Non," he reassured her, trying to will the throbbing sensation into submission. "It will just be a bruise."

Josée shifted, dropping her gaze. He frowned; he definitely wasn't imagining the guilt now. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

"Look, I-I'm sorry," she said, a bit awkwardly and still without meeting his gaze. "I should have done something else to stop her."

"She is your mother, Josée," Jacques replied. "You cannot control what she does."

His partner merely shrugged miserably, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Jacques realized she looked like she did whenever they lost a competition, right before her mother came to speak with her: anxious and with an expression of impending doom.

"I think you are more upset about this than I am," he said gently. When she didn't respond, he continued. "You understand that I do not blame you, yes?"

Josée glanced briefly at him before fixing her gaze back on the ground. "I know," she said. "It's just that…" She trailed off, a faint dusting of red appearing on her cheeks.

"Just that what?" Jacques prompted.

Josée shifted uncomfortably, and for a moment, he thought she wasn't going to answer him.

"I just wonder, sometimes," she said at last, so softly that he had to lean closer to hear her clearly. "What with my temper, and the harder practice schedules, and…and Mama…" She paused for a moment, her eyes following a small beetle as it crawled from one end of the sidewalk to the other. "I wonder how much you'll put up with before…"

Before leaving? Jacques thought sharply. He leaned forward, trying to intercept her distant stare. "Josée, I am not 'putting up' with you," he said, emphasizing the words with air quotations in hopes of distracting her from the beetle. "And I am not going to just leave."

Josée looked up at him, her expression still far more worried than he would have liked. "You're my only friend, Jacques," she said, her voice dropping to barely louder than a whisper. "If you leave, I don't have anyone else."

She glanced away again, looking anxious and embarrassed at the same time. Jacques wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Do not worry about things like that, Josée," he murmured into her hair. "I promise I will never leave. You are my partner and my best friend." And maybe something more someday, his mind added hopefully.

Josée leaned into his embrace, and a peaceful quiet settled over them. The air was rapidly growing colder as the sun sank below a row of houses, sending purple and orange streaks of color across the sky. Jacques rested his chin on top of his partner's head, watching as the breeze sent swirls of leaves into the air. They still had several years ahead of dealing with Mariette and her temper. Jacques got the feeling he wouldn't be seeing less of her until Josée got her own place. But until that time, he intended to keep her, and himself, for that matter, away from Mariette as much as possible.

"Hey, Josée?" he said softly, hesitant to disturb the stillness of the autumn evening.

"Um-hmm?" she replied, equally as quiet.

"Can I drive you to practice on Monday?" he asked. His eyes snagged on the shattered lamp, which was still lying in a forlorn pile among the fallen leaves. He pulled back just enough to look down at Josée. "I promise not to be late this time." He glanced significantly at the lamp. "I would not want you to lose any more furniture."

Josée followed his gaze, then made a face at the remains of the lamp. "Of course you can drive me," she said. "And don't worry. I never liked that lamp."

A/N: Ta-da! I hope you enjoyed reading, and please leave a review if you can! For those of you who are wondering, I chose the name Mariette for Josée's mother because it is a French name meaning "sea of bitterness," which felt pretty appropriate, considering what we know about her from TDRR. Also, the last name I picked for Josée and her mother, Voland, means "to fly or agile," which also seemed to fit :)