A/N: Finally, we get to find out how they met! (And how it differed from how Amy and Ricky's version in the show.)

Turning Tables

One Night At A Majorette Retreat

"Shit!"

A blonde head poked out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth. She looked Adrian up and down, finally pulled her toothbrush out, and asked with an air of annoyance, "Something wrong?"

Adrian looked up from her luggage bag, the contents of which was strewn all across her bed. It was only the first morning after she'd arrived at the majorette retreat and she hadn't had a chance to get to know a handful of her new girls sharing the duplex with her for the duration of the semester – although she was sure the girls from her own team would quickly fill them in on her pariah status – let alone thoroughly go through her belongings the night before. "I forgot my pills," she said lamely.

"Your pills?"

Adrian glared. "My birth control."

The blonde snorted. "Why would you bring birth control to an all female retreat? It's not like you're going to be having sex with anyone." She shrugged and drew the bristles across the front of her teeth. "At least not anyone with a penis."

"They do help regulate your period, if you didn't know." Adrian scowled as the girl shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom. Cursing her own stupidity, she began to shove her belongings back into her suitcase. "I could ask Mom to mail them," she mused. But as she looked towards the bathroom, she realized the blonde was right: it's not like sex was an option.

When would there be time, anyway? Let alone with whom. The only men she's seen were two or three times her age and in prestigious positions of power. Not that one wouldn't want to screw one of the hundreds of majorettes present, but Adrian did not intend on being the girl in that hypothetical scenario. "Screw it!" she spat. "It's only two months."

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"Benjamin. Son, wake up."

Ben's eyes creaked open at the sound of his father's persistent voice. He felt his dad's hands on his shoulders, gently rolling him back and forth like dough and he groaned loudly. "Whhmm?" he grumbled, ducking his head beneath his sheets.

"I'm sorry to wake you up so early, but I need your help." Leo grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it down, exposing his son to the cold chill of the morning.

Ben curled into the fetal position. "Dad!" he yelped.

"Ben, come on. I'm counting on you!" He edged a steaming silver thermos at his boy. "We need to get going! Up! Up!"

"What?" Ben grumbled, becoming more alert with the pungent aroma of Brazilian coffee that was wafting out of the thermos. "I – I thought today was the day you were going to that catering thing for the – the majorettes?"

"It is," Leo confirmed. "And you're going with me."

"What?"

Leo sat down beside his son. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Ben, but I got a call from Bunny's husband about an hour ago. She's come down with a pretty bag bug and she's in no condition to get out of bed, let alone take a jet ride up to spend all day catering."

Ben pushed his brows together and scrunched up his nose as he sipped the tart coffee. His stomach growled in protest, but the steam felt good under his nose. "So get someone else to cover."

"I've been making calls for the last hour, but no one's available on such late notice."

"So you want me to go in her place? Dad, I can't do that! I have no idea what she does, I have no training, no-"

"It's alright, Ben!" Leo interrupted. "I can take on the more difficult tasks and re-delineate anything else, I just need you to help me set up so we're not behind schedule. But that means I need you up and getting ready right now, because we leave in an hour."

Ben rotated his head towards the clock. It was three minutes away from five in the morning. His head was spinning. "This sucks," he whimpered.

Leo laid a hand on his son's back and patted him. "Don't think of this as a punishment, Ben, think of it as an opportunity. You're going to get some valuable life experience out of this."

Ben pressed the thermos to his lips and glared at his father over the lid. "I beg to differ."

"And did I mention you're also going to get paid?"

Ben raised a single eyebrow. "I think I'd rather sleep."

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"Do you ever wonder why there are no male majorettes?"

"Because it has 'ettes' in the title?"

"Because most guys don't want to be caught dead in a mini skirt?"

"Yeah, but there are male cheerleaders. What's the difference?"

"A male majorette wouldn't have to catch girls, they'd have to wave batons."

Adrian fell back onto her bed in the corner of the room. For almost two months this had been standard practice: sit in her lone corner of the room and listen to the other girls in her duplex discuss the one thing the camp didn't provide them: boys.

"I'm sure there are male majorettes somewhere, just never at these retreats. There can't be, like, none, right? I mean, wouldn't that violate some kind of gender equality bill somewhere or something?"

"I don't really care, I just know that I need a good lay. God, I can't believe I go without sex for two months every year! Almost makes me wish I was a lesbian."

"Why be a lesbian when you can be bisexual?"

"Are you propositioning me, Delaney?"

Adrian grabbed her pillow and smashed it over her face. "Kill me now!"With as much as her cohorts discussed sex, she theoretically should've fit right in. Hell, she should've been Top Bitchorette, but somehow she always ended up the social pariah. In most ways, that was fine, but on those rare occasions, sometimes she just wanted companionship too, and the form wouldn't have mattered. That was how Antonio had been: he started out as the perfect companion and love just organically grew out of that. But he was gone now and he was never coming back.

"Screw this shit," she spat as she rolled off her bed and threw her pillow at the wall. "You're all fucking prima donna whores anyway."

"Says the Resident Slut of Grant High!"

Adrian licked her finger suggestively. "And while I'm thinking of it, tell Shane hi for me, Chrissy. Remind him to call me while you're at it. I'm worried about him, he mentioned there was something missing in his relationship."

"Bitch!"

Adrian lifted her skirt, flashing the group a bit of ass before skipping out the door and slamming it against the sounds of racial slurs and sexist curses. It was bullshit what she had to put up with during the school year and then compounded by the multi-school retreat. If she had known that was how being a majorette was going to be when she signed up her Freshman year, she might not have done it. On the other hand, she still loved the dancing and performing and even the costumes made her feel sexy. It was something she knew she was good at and moreover, something she could show people she was good at, which wasn't something she could publically show in the same way by being an honor student.

The Latina scurried down the sidewalk. It was only about three in the afternoon, give or take, but oddly crisp. On second thought, she should've brought a jacket and probably changed out of her uniform into pants or something, but there was no way she was going back now. Cursing to herself, she headed for the dining hall. Not that she had any money with her for snacks, but at least there were heaters in there.

Three-fourths of the way there she noticed that the doors were open and beefy men were hauling in large objects. She couldn't make out what, but they were glinting in the sunlight, so she figured something metal. Quirking an eyebrow, she quickened her pace and briefly mused that maybe she should've joined track instead. A minute or so later, she skid in between a couple of men carrying large metal trays and recognized them as heating trays. As she surveyed the dining hall, she noticed that extra tables had been brought in and set up with the heating trays and the tablecloths covering said tables were emblazoned with Boykewich Butchers.

"Boykewich," she muttered to herself. Suddenly a few commercials and a local freeway billboard sprung to mind. "The Sausage King," she smirked, thinking of the plump but always smiling headshot that accompanied the advertisements. He was somewhat of a local celebrity, often touted as a true life Cinderella story of someone who had built his franchise from the ground up and ran a clean business with the shake of his hand. Frankly, it wasn't surprising that he was catering, and given his reputation, she suspected he was probably doing it at a discount too, if not altogether free.

As she thought about it, she could almost see the up close shots of the grilled steaks seeping their juices with the stab of a knife, the thick hamburger patties piled high with the veggies so fresh drops of water were still lingering on the tomato skins, and the steaming ribs dripping with Boykewich Original BBQ Sauce. Her stomach began to growl and she almost thought she could smell the food until she opened her eyes and realized that the men she'd seen toting things in were now bringing in actual food.

Adrian felt her mouth grow overly slick as the smells rocked her olfactory senses. Looking around the room, she noted that a clock on the far wall meant that dinner wasn't for another two-and-a-half hours. "Ugh…" Her eyes danced back and forth between the door and the doors. If she left, where else could she go that was warm? If she stayed, she would be agonized by hunger.

"This is a lose-lose situation."

"Don't be so dramatic, son."

Adrian's head snapped around at the sounds of the voices. The first was unfamiliar, but the second was-

"Leo!"

Leo held up his finger to Ben. "I'll be right back. Coming, Jerry!"

Adrian watched the elder man wander off in the direction of the man who had hollered for him, leaving his gawky son completely by himself. She studied the boy for a moment. He was tall, but he had a baby face, so it was hard for her to pinpoint how old he was, even though she was typically pretty good with ages. She didn't recognize him from her school, though. Granted, it was a big school, but she knew a pretty decent number of the male populace. On the other hand, he could go to a different high school. Either way, she knew one thing: the Sausage King had called him his son. Which meant, "So…you must be the Sausage Prince?"

It was downright hysterical, the look of horror on his face. It was like a deer caught in the headlights or a teenage boy whose mother just walked in on him watching a pornographic video. She sashayed over to him, carefully placing her hand on her jutted hip. "I just heard you talking, so I know you can speak. Am I not good enough for you, Royalty?"

"I-it's not that!" Ben sputtered, shaking his head and waving his hands emphatically. "I just – I – I'm, uh, s-suprirsed."

"Surprised?"

"That you're…" The painfully visible Adam's apple in his throat jumped up and down like a beach ball floating on choppy seas. "…talking to me?"

"How old are you anyway?"

"Fifteen," he mumbled. "I mean, I just turned fifteen. This summer, I mean. I mean-"

"I should've guessed," Adrian interrupted. "I mean," she smirked, "by the way you're staring at my breasts, it should've been a dead giveaway."

Ben turned his head away. "No! No, I wasn't! I-" he covered his eyes with his hand "-didn't!"

"Do me a favor and don't lie to me, I get enough of that from everyone else. You were staring at my breasts. So what? I have nice breasts. In fact, I have great breasts. I don't blame you for looking."

"You – you don't?" Ben asked, peeking out from under his hand.

"No." Adrian gave him a once over. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Ben. Ben Boykewich."

Adrian extended her manicured hand. "Adrian Lee."

Ben gripped her hand and shook it with a little too much vigor. "H-hi," he sputtered.

"So what're you doing here?" she asked, nodding in the direction of his father.

Ben straightened his posture in a way that reminded Adrian a bit of a parakeet ruffling its feathers. "Oh, uh…my dad's catering the retreat's end-of-summer bash thing."

"And you're here to learn the family business?"

"Actually, his right hand, Bunny, called in sick, so he tapped me at the last minute."

Adrian cracked a wicked grin. "So how long are you gonna be around for?"

"Just today. I'm helping set up and then we'll stay for the dinner and head back to our hotel."

The Latina licked her lips. "Lucky you," she purred. "You're literally the only teenage boy here."

Ben flushed a color that would've made scarlet pale by comparison. "Yeah…maybe lucky if I was some football jock."

"You seem cute enough to me." Going by the look on his face, Adrian guessed he was likely a virgin.

"Do me a favor and don't lie to me, I get enough of that from everyone else."

Adrian cocked her head to the side. "Touché."

"Ben! Sorry about that, son, Jerry just informed me there are some issues with a couple of the warming trays. They aren't heating properly and I need to leave to go take care of that. I'm really sorry, but do you think you can go find Jeff and Ramon to help them beginning setting up as much food as we can before I get back?"

Adrian had turned away to avoid Leo looking at her as he talked to Ben, who she heard agreeing, though she could tell he wasn't a fan of the idea. After a moment, Leo departed, and Adrian spun back around with a brilliant idea. "Need help?"

"'Scuse me?"

"You said you're short staffed, so I'm offering my services."

"Don't you have – you know – majoretting to be doing or something?"

Adrian rolled her eyes. "Actually, no. You said yourself, this is the end-of-the-summer, so practice and drills are over and everyone is just hanging around talking about sex." Oh, how she loved to see the color bleed into his cheeks every time she mentioned something explicitly sexual. "Anyway, I have nothing better to do, so why not?"

Ben shrugged. "Just be careful you don't burn yourself on anything." He motioned his arm. "The trucks are this way."

Adrian kept in step with him, though he was a bit slow for her taste. "So where do you go to school?" she asked casually.

"I'm starting Grant in September," he said, motioning to her Grant High uniform.

"Really?" Adrian purred. "You have a girlfriend?"

Ben turned his face away to try and hide his burning cheeks. "No. Do you?"

"Have a girlfriend? No."

"A boyfriend, I mean."

"Not one of those either."

"That's surprising."

"How so?"

"I just figured…"

"Figured what?"

"You know…"

Adrian grabbed him by the arm. "No, actually, I really don't."

Ben blustered. "Y – y – you're – you know!" At her blank stare he finally blurted out, "Beautiful!" As he felt her hand loosen, he immediately jerked it back and used it to cover his face. "Forget I said that."

"Why would I want to do that?" she demanded.

"Because it sounds like a cheesy come-on and that's not how it was supposed to sound."

Adrian stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "And what's a better come on? 'You're a hot piece of ass and I'd like to fuck your brains out'? I don't know about you, but 'beautiful' is alright in my book."

"I – I guess you would know," Ben shrugged. "I, on the other hand, don't have a lot of experience with girls."

"Well I have a lot of experience with girls, being one myself. And, I have a lot of experience with guys. Though, not quite of your caliber."

"My caliber?" he asked, as they reached the delivery truck. Ben climbed up the ramp with Adrian at his heels.

"You're…" Adrian pursed her lips as she watched him gather an armful of boxes. "…sweet."

"You barely met me."

"I'm a good judge of character." She collected an armful of boxes herself and followed him back down the ramp. They were hot against her bare arms, almost too hot, and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to make it all the way back to the dining hall without getting third degree burns.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose."

"Why are you a majorette?"

"Why is anyone anything?"

"That's not an answer."

Adrian shrugged. "I like to dance. It's freeing."

"And why aren't you hanging out with the other majorettes?"

"Let's just say we don't see eye-to-eye." Adrian stopped. "I can't. I'm sorry!" She knelt down and relieved her arms of the boxes halfway there. "It's not the weight, it's the heat. You've got a long sleeved shirt, but me…"

Ben knelt down beside her and also set his boxes down. "You don't have to help me, you know."

"I know."

Ben tapped his fingers against his knees for a moment, then peeled off his sweater – a very Danny Tanner sweater at that – and handed it to her.

"Then you're going to burn yourself."

"I have tough skin."

Adrian frowned, not really believing him, but she nodded anyway. "Thanks." It was softer than expected and too long for her, so she had to roll up the sleeves, but invitingly warm in a way that she never wanted to take off. And for the next half hour, she helped him lug trays of food down to the dining hall until all of the delivery trucks were completely empty.

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"This is amazing, my compliments to your father," Adrian mused as Ben walked out of the men's bathroom.

Ben froze at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you."

"I can see that. Why?"

"Bored. And clearly you are too, otherwise you wouldn't have snuck off to the bathroom for the third time in twenty minutes."

"Maybe I had a bad piece of chicken?"

"If it were anyone other than the Sausage King, I might buy that." Adrian lifted the smoky barbeque covered drumstick off her plate and slid it into her mouth, licking it leisurely before slowly pulling it back out and then daintily nibbling at the sides with the tips of her teeth. "I love these."

Ben quickly averted his eyes. "I'll let me dad know."

"Oh, come on, Benjamin," Adrian whined. "Don't be so shy. You're not the only one thinking it. And you know how I know?" She tossed her plate into a trashcan without taking her eyes off him. "You were staring at my breasts again. And you know what else?" She grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to face her. "You're probably thinking sex with me would be good. And you know what?" When she shook his head she nodded. "You'd be right."

"You don't want to have sex with me," Ben glared. "Girls like you don't want to have sex with me."

Adrian looped one manicured finger in the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him towards her until only a few inches of space separated them. "And what, exactly, are 'girls like me'?" She leaned close to Ben's face as though she was about to kiss him, then turned to face to the side and pressed her cheek to his, allowing her lips to hang right next to his ear. "Touch 'em."

"Wh-what?"

"My breasts," she said seductively. "Touch. Them."

"I-"

Adrian grabbed his wrist and moved it up between their bodies until they were beneath her bust, then she shoved his hand a little further until she felt his clammy fingers grave her exposed skin. When she released her hand, Ben did as expected: let his hand linger there of its own accord. Hoping to help him along, she jutted her chest out, forcing his fingers down the valley of her cleavage. "What do you think?"

"Th –they're nice."

"Of course they are." Suddenly she stepped away, leaving Ben standing there as if he was groping the air, frozen in place. "Why don't you follow me, hmm?" She wagged her finger at him like a puppy and then turned on her heel and headed for the doors. Less than five minutes later, she had found her way to one of the dark, empty delivery trucks, which she had conveniently left the cab to unlocked.

"I don't think we should be doing this," Ben whispered. "What if someone walks out?"

"Dinner won't be over for another hour at least," Adrian countered as she heaved open the door and climbed inside.

"I really don't-"

Adrian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward until he was forced to climbed up. "Good boy. Shut the door."

Ben's hand was shaking as he pulled the door shut and hit the lock with his elbow. He slowly turned to Adrian, eyes wildly roaming her body as they adjusted to the darkness of the cab. His hands were moving around, touching everything except for her.

Adrian grabbed both of his hands and steadied them, then she scooted closer and placed both hands on her hips, held them there, and then leaned in and pressed her moist lips to his neck. "I haven't had a boy touch me in two months," she whispered as she drew her lips up his neck and over his earlobe. "I need this."

"We don't even know each other," Ben protested, though he didn't remove his hands from her body.

"Just make out with me, that's all I want. I just need a little release, Ben. Can't you do that for a pretty girl?" Adrian dug her fingers into his hair and dropped her mouth to his, kissing him deeply. While their lips were locked, she maneuvered her hands to his sweater, unbuttoned it, and stripped it off his arms.

Ben gasped. The sound of his heartbeat was audible in the cab. Without truly thinking about what he was doing, he pulled Adrian closer and kissed her again. "You're not pretty," he whispered. "You're beautiful."

"Show me how beautiful," she demanded.

Ben pushed her up against the driver's side door and straddled her legs. As if he were handling an infant, he unzipped the back of her uniform and pulled it up over her head, revealing a lacy orange bra that was nearly the same color.

Adrian closed her eyes as Ben kissed her neck and chest. "Have you done this before?" she asked, almost expecting him to say yes.

"Am I – am I doing something wrong?" he asked, horror in his sweet brown eyes.

Adrian shook her head. "No, you're doing everything exactly right." Adrian pushed him back onto the seat and scooted him over to the passenger side. She looped one finger under his shirt and pulled it up over his head, then tossed his shirt over the steering wheel. "You're a virgin, right?"

Ben nodded, cheeks colorful even in the darkness.

Adrian nodded as she slid down onto the floor and reached to unbuckled his pants. "That's too bad."

"W-hy?" he gulped.

"Because we don't have a condom, so I guess we'll just have to settle for-"

"I have a condom."

"What?"

"I – I have a condom!" Ben practically yelped. He was desperately digging into the back pocket of his jeans and then victoriously pulled out his wallet. Ben fumbled to open the leather casing and dug around until he pulled a small, bent, wrapped condom out from the bottom of the wallet.

Adrian eyed it suspiciously. "How long have you had that?"

"I – uh – not very long," he squeaked.

Adrian narrowed her eyes as she took the condom from his pinched fingers. "Why do you have it?"

"Protection?"

"Yeah, but you're a virgin-"

"You never know," Ben said, motioning about the cab. "Isn't that what they're for? Better safe than sorry?"

Adrian clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "I can respect that," she said. Without really thinking about it, she nodded. "Alright, Sausage Prince, tonight you get to see how sausages are made…"

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Adrian pressed her hands against Ben's chest, pushing him away. "Ben, I – Ricky!"

Ben sputtered in confusion, his eyes as huge as whole planets. "Ricky?" he barked.

Adrian pointed behind Ben to the other end of the hall where Ricky was transfixed on them. Her eyes began to water. "It's not what it looks like!" she desperately exclaimed, knowing that even as she said it to him, it had to be one of the oldest clichés in the book. Adrian stumbled backwards, tripping over the purse she'd dropped when Ben kissed her, and landing harshly on the ground. For several moments, the hallway was altogether silent. Then Adrian gripped her stomach and the silence gushed with a bloodied scream.