AN: Thanks for the reviews everyone, and for being so patient. I know it sucks waiting on an update for a story, so I really hope this chapter made it somewhat worthwhile.
Thanks to Greg for beta-ing.
LX.
The sun was beginning to set when Ben found Jimmy seated behind the armory truck smoking a cigarette, a bottle of beer cradled between his thighs. Ben stood over Jimmy a second, one hand on his hip, and a wooden board in the other. He made a face, and Jimmy casually took a hit off his cigarette, let the smoke billow up at Ben.
"Did you want one?" Jimmy asked, knocked the ash off his cigarette's cherry tip.
Ben scowled, "You know I hate those things."
"I meant a beer," Jimmy smirked, lifted the bottle to take a sip then held it up in offering.
Ben plopped on the ground in front of Jimmy, placed the board down on the ground between them and accepted the beer, took a small drink of it and pulled a bitter face. Jimmy laughed and Ben rolled his eyes, shoved the bottle back to Jimmy.
"It's warm," Ben complained, went on to say, "I've been looking all over camp for you, ever since I heard you took off from the captain's tent."
"I didn't take off," Jimmy muttered, "I just didn't make a big deal when I left. Where did you hear that I took off?"
"From Diego," Ben said, "They went back to their hide-out. Hal went out there with them…I guess they're coming back though. Weaver's daughter is still here."
"Oh, is she," Jimmy murmured, shifting and fiddling with the cigarette in his fingers, "Why didn't you go with Hal?"
"Because I came looking for you," Ben answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Maggie's keeping him company. Why'd you take off from the captain's tent?"
"I didn't," Jimmy repeated disinterestedly, nodding at the board as he hugged the beer to himself and took another hit off his cigarette, "What's that?"
"It's a chess board," Ben answered readily.
"I know that it's a chess board," Jimmy grumbled, wetting his finger tips and using them to put out the cigarette, then tucking it neatly behind his ear, "Why do you have it?"
"Because I'm going to teach you how to play," Ben cracked open the board and began setting it up.
Jimmy groaned, "I know how to play. Your brother taught me."
"No. You know how to lose," Ben corrected, "And you're very good at it."
"Ha, ha," Jimmy droned sarcastically.
"I'm going to teach you how to win," Ben decided, finishing placing the pieces on the board, he clapped his hands together and said, "We'll start over with instructions. I'm not sure how Matt explained the game to you, so I figure it's best to just begin with a blank slate."
"I don't know how to break this to you, but I hate this game," Jimmy stated bluntly.
"What? No. You just haven't really gotten to play it," Ben reached a hand to Jimmy's knee and gave it a squeeze, "Come on. Play with me."
"I'm a little afraid to say 'yes', because I'm having trouble hearing that phrase from you in a non-pervy context," Jimmy joked.
Ben perked a brow, a small smile flitting across his lip, his hand still hot on Jimmy's knee.
"As much as I would love to play that game with you, babe, I seem to remember my dad telling us to play outside for a bit and not on the bus. You're the one that doesn't want him finding out about us right this moment, so staying off the bus seems in our best interest. And, as amazing as I think you look during, I don't think we're good enough at it for an audience yet," Ben teased.
"What do you mean 'yet'?" Jimmy demanded.
Ben sighed, held up one of the wooden pieces painted black, "This is the king."
"Oh, we're really doing this then. I guess it's a good thing I have beer."
"Look, I know that it's a dorky game," Ben said, toying sheepishly with the chess piece in his hand, "Only losers and freaks play chess, right?"
"I didn't say that."
"No, everyone at school said that," Ben cleared his throat and glanced up at Jimmy, "But it's my favorite game. I'm good at it. Back, you know, before, I wasn't good at a lot of things. I had school and chess; that was it. You know, chess was one of the few things I could play with my dad and brothers without feeling like a total wimp. I won and for a moment, I got to feel proud of myself or whatever. This is one of the only parts of my life from before that I actually feel excited to share with you."
"Right. I get that it's important to you. Doesn't change that I hate the game," Jimmy returned.
"You only hate the game because you've only ever lost," Ben insisted, "And that's because you don't really know how to play it. Once you have the rules down, I know you would be awesome at it. The whole game is about tactics. You're at war with the other player and the only way to win is to out maneuver them."
"No, see, Matt said it was a capture the flag kind of game," Jimmy cut in, "And that the king was the flag."
"I guess that's a way of looking at it. Capture the flag is also a war game," Ben conceded, grimacing a little, "Except it's not really an all out battle with only the one objective. There are a lot of moving parts and you really have to think about each turn you take. Now this," Ben lifted another piece, "Is your queen."
"She can move anywhere she wants," Jimmy recalled.
"Just like a real woman," Ben remarked, smirking and shrugging at Jimmy's puzzled expression, "That's what my teacher, Mr. Balder, used to say. He was in charge of the chess club."
"And a forty-year old virgin, I take it," Jimmy glibly replied. Ben covered a laugh, shook his head at the other boy.
"The queen can move straight and diagonal, forwards and backwards across the board," Ben explained, "She's more like the king's vanguard, the most powerful soldier on the battlefield. This one," Ben lightly touched the next piece down, "Is the bishop. You got one for each color on the board, and they can only move diagonally along their color, forwards and backwards. These are your…"
"King's horses," Jimmy supplied, leaning his elbow on his knee and cupping his chin. He frowned at the board, brow scrunched together in semi-concentration and overall disinterest.
"Knight," Ben corrected, wincing, "Did Matt really teach you that?"
"No, but I figured, these are all the king's men, those are his horses, and this one," Jimmy pointed to the rook, "Is Humpty Dumpty."
"Stop that," Ben moaned, swatting Jimmy's hand away, "Will you stop messing around and pay attention?"
"I am paying attention," Jimmy pointed to each piece as he rattled off, "Not a flag, vanguard, color coded. See? Paying attention."
Ben slapped a hand to his face.
"Why are you teaching me this? You don't even play chess much anymore. Just whenever Matt can pester you into it," Jimmy asked, leaning back again and folding his arms over his stomach, peering curiously up at Ben. Ben stared blankly at the board a moment, shook his head, and started clearing the pieces.
"Forget it then," he murmured.
"I didn't say I wouldn't play," Jimmy protested, grabbing hold of Ben's hands, knocking a few pieces over but holding Ben in place, "Stop it. Just set it back up. You want to play, we'll play."
"No, I don't want to force you to do something that you don't want to do," Ben grumbled.
"I thought that was the basis of our entire relationship," Jimmy joked.
Ben wriggled his hands free, leaned back and glared up at Jimmy. They stared at one another in a deadlock. Something strange was written in Ben's expression, carefully hidden beneath the exasperation and frustration. There was more to his wanting to teach Jimmy chess then he was saying, maybe because there was more to it then he really understood himself. Jimmy fiddled with his beer bottle, tapped it a few times, lifted it and took a deliberate sip, touched the bottle's mouth against his bottom lip and rest it there.
"Did you still want to play or not?" Jimmy questioned.
"I need to give you something," Ben said in return.
"What?" Jimmy perked a brow, straightened and leered warily at Ben.
"It's kind of a…a birthday present," Ben continued, sheepishly dropped his eyes, and searched his pocket a few seconds.
"Would this present be eight months early or four months late? It's not my birthday, Ben. If anyone should be getting a birthday present right now, it should be you. Isn't yours coming up?" Jimmy pointed out then mused, "Or did it pass when we were running for our lives…? I'm confused. What month are we in again?"
"But I missed your birthday," Ben argued.
"You didn't miss it. We'd never met and you were still under the aliens' control," Jimmy rebuked.
"I still want to give you something. Look, just wait five months and then give me a birthday present and that'll make us even," Ben persisted, grinned boyishly, "We could do it every year. It'll be our thing."
"I don't want a thing. And I don't want a present. My birthday passed, forget about it. I hate my birthday anyways," Jimmy grunted, finishing off his beer in one good swig and putting the empty bottle aside, "Besides, I thought that chocolate was my present."
"What chocolate?" Ben questioned, furrowing his brow and looking at Jimmy in confusion.
"You seriously forgot? I guess you were drunk, and afterward everything went to hell, so I should let it slide, but, you know, it was kind of one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me," Jimmy mumbled, slumping in his seat and folding his arms across his chest, he demanded, "Fine. What is this thing you want to give me?"
"Close your eyes," Ben instructed.
"No. What is with you and the eye closing?"
"I couldn't wrap it," Ben explained, "Closing your eyes is the next best thing."
"What if I don't trust you with my eyes closed?"
"And why wouldn't you trust me?"
"You tied me to a bus, Ben," Jimmy deadpanned.
"You're never letting that go," Ben realized.
"You tied me to a bus," Jimmy repeated in a low growl, "No, I'm never letting it go. It was a little traumatizing, and I'm still sore in places."
"You said it didn't hurt," Ben paused, worried his brow.
Jimmy rolled his eyes, shook his head grumpily, "I'm not closing my eyes. End of argument. If the only way you'll give me this stupid present is if I have my eyes closed then I guess you're not giving me a present after all; which works out perfectly because I don't want one."
"Fine," Ben muttered and tossed a small flash of silver thumping into Jimmy's chest, "There. Happy birthday…belated, or early, whichever. I don't even know anymore."
Jimmy barely caught the tiny trinket, frowning as he opened his hand and studied the item. Ben sat back, watched Jimmy's reaction with a small smile, though there really wasn't much of one. Puzzlement at first, which melded away into bemusement mixed with a hint of dumbstruck.
"This is a bullet, Ben. On a chain."
"You know, you are really observant. Nothing ever gets past you."
"Did you put a hole in this thing? Shit, Ben, if Dai finds out you've been stealing ammo to make jewelry…"
"Relax," Ben interjected, "It's one twenty caliber bullet, Jimmy, and it's practically useless anyway. Only way this thing could kill a Skitter is if the Skitter accidentally ate it and choked to death."
"Okay, but why are you giving me a bullet on a chain. I mean, I appreciate it and all, but wearing jewelry is not really my style," Jimmy continued.
Ben sighed, leaned forward and motioned Jimmy do the same. He gently took the bullet from Jimmy in his fingertips, held it up between them.
"When the war is over and we've won, this is the bullet that you won't be putting in your head," Ben quietly explained, as their first time together, laying in the storage room of that community center miles away and months back, when Jimmy confessed his own dark reasons for fighting the enemy, shocked into memory. Ben twisted the bullet to show one side carved with a series of numbers, "And this is the date of your eighteenth birthday, when we'll take our road trip."
"Road trip?" Jimmy absently interrupted, though his focus was still on the bullet, one hand gingerly wrapped around the wrist of the hand Ben used to hold it up. Their faces were close enough that all Jimmy could think about was Ben's scent, his mouth, the feel of his breath, his skin hot, smooth against Jimmy's own.
"Yeah, you remember. Our road trip over summer break. To Disneyworld," Ben prompted, smiling, "We talked about it in bed."
Jimmy grimaced, flustered somewhat, as understanding slowly dawned in him. Ben was talking about the stupid fantasy he'd created several weeks back, about the world not ending and them in college together. And suddenly, another pang erupted in Jimmy's chest, as he stumbled into a further realization. Ben wasn't giving Jimmy a birthday present, he was giving Jimmy an ultimatum, forcing Jimmy into a commitment to a future that Ben wanted, only God knew why, one that Jimmy couldn't have, even if he did want it.
"Somehow, I don't think Disneyworld will be open for business," Jimmy mumbled, dropping his gaze momentarily to the chess board. Was this what Ben saw for them? Chess games and road trips? Promises crudely etched on the sides of bullets? It wasn't a life he could have, he'd already made promises to other people, to himself. As tempting a devil as Ben posed, Jimmy couldn't forget the things he'd done in his life, in the war, and the only means he had of even beginning to redeem himself.
Or could he? Was it really that easy?
"I guess it was lame, if you don't want it," Ben decided, disappointment trembling in his words. He started to pull away, taking the gift with him.
"No," Jimmy said without thought, snatching the bullet back, shyly, stubbornly stating, "It's mine. You gave it to me."
Ben let the trinket go, barely able to contain the elated grin hiding in a corner of his lip. After a second, as though mulling it over, Jimmy placed his hand on Ben's cheek, pulled the other boy forward into a soft kiss. They parted, blushed, glanced around to see if they had an audience, but fortunately, what few people were near weren't paying them any attention.
"Thanks," Jimmy whispered.
They both sat back again and a strange silence fell between them. It felt as though something had been determined, something intangible and inexplicable but important nonetheless. Jimmy cleared his throat, curled the bullet and its chain in his fingers, and motioned to the chess board.
"You still want to play?"
"Yeah, sure," Ben agreed, straightened and studied the board, resetting the few pieces he'd mussed earlier, "Where was I before?"
"King's horses," Jimmy supplied, slipping the chain around his neck when he felt Ben might not notice and leaning forward, nervously gripping the bullet in his palm as if to hide it.
"Knights," Ben kindly amended, smirked, "They can only move in the shape of an L; one forward, one diagonal. But they can move that way in any direction. They're also the only piece that can jump over other pieces."
"Because they're horses," Jimmy noted.
"Yeah, because they're horses," Ben confirmed, and they exchanged a smile, "But they can only capture a piece that sits on their final square, the diagonal. Um…this is the rook; not Humpty Dumpty."
"Rook," Jimmy repeated, trying the name out, he made a face, "Why don't they just give the pieces more obvious names? See, I look at this piece and think castle. What the fuck is a rook?"
"I'm not sure," Ben said, shrugging, "Some people call it a castle, I guess, but it's not really considered kosher amongst the pros."
"Who are all probably dead, so who gives a shit what they consider kosher or not? Hell, who gave a shit when they were alive? I'm calling it a castle," Jimmy decided.
Ben laughed, "Alright, fine, the 'castle' can only move straight. Forwards, backwards or to the side. Come to think of it, the rook does have a special move with the king called 'castling', but we won't go into that, we'll keep the game simple."
"Because that's what chess is: simple," Jimmy muttered under his breath. He touched one of the pawns and commented, "I remember these ones. They move forward one square, right?"
"Those are pawns," Ben said, "They're essentially your first line of defense."
"Oh. Yeah. Cannon fodder," Jimmy put in, lifting one up and turning it in his hand, a touch of melancholy recognition in his expression. Ben carefully plucked the pawn away, paused considerately, concernedly, to study the other boy and put the pawn back on the board.
"No," Ben clarified, "Pawns can make great sacrifices, sure, but so does any other piece on the board if you're looking at a mate."
Jimmy perked his brow, amused, but remained silent.
"Pawns can be more powerful than you think, it's all about tactics and maneuvering," Ben continued, "You can win the game with a pawn. Pawns have a lot of special moves. They can jump ahead two squares on their first move and if they reach the other side of the board, they can be promoted to another piece, your choice, anything except the king, of course."
"Of course," Jimmy shrugged, ducked his head, because it really hadn't been that obvious. Two kings on the board seemed a good deal to him.
"Also, like the rook, they have a special move called en passant, but I won't go into that either, it's too complicated for right now. You ready to start a game?"
"Sure. Why not?" Jimmy sighed, "You go first, I guess."
Ben moved a piece, and Jimmy took his turn. They played a few turns in a comfortable silence, but it wasn't long before Ben gave a weary sigh.
"Check mate," he said.
"Yup. I hate this game."
"Look, I'll go easier," Ben started.
"Really builds my confidence, thanks," Jimmy drawled sarcastically.
"I'm better than Matt, and you have trouble with him, so it makes sense that you…"
"Okay, shut up, because you're not making me feel any better reminding me that I get my ass kicked at this game of wits by your nine year old brother," Jimmy growled.
"You just have to start thinking ahead, planning better. All you do is react to my moves," Ben said.
"And how am I supposed to plan ahead? I don't know what you're going to do."
"There's only so many moves I can make at any given point in the game," Ben explained plaintively, "And based on that move, there's only so many moves you can make, and from there only so many I can make and…"
"You're really giving me a headache."
"Come on, I'll set it up again," Ben decided, rearranging the pieces.
"How good are you at this game?" Jimmy asked, "I mean, like relative to other people who are good at chess?"
"I'm okay. My dad used to say I was good enough to compete," Ben answered, "He taught me to play when I was five or six, I think. It was at a birthday party, Hal's maybe. I was upset because all the other kids wanted to play outside and my allergies were really acting up. My dad forgot to fill my prescription that week, so I couldn't play if I wanted to breathe. Anyways, it really sucked, and I guess to make it up to me that he forgot my medicine, my dad hung out with me all day and taught me to play. It was nice, it was hardly ever just me and my dad. It was always me, my dad, and Hal, or me and my mom and him and Hal. He said I was a natural from the start, but maybe he was just saying that to cheer me up, I don't know. When I started joining chess clubs at school, I started getting my ass kicked by other players and…well, I got better but, I was still always second best in my chess club."
"I stink bombed the chess club at my school once," Jimmy recalled.
"You what?" Ben baulked.
"Yeah, no, um…my friends and I, well, see, one of the dweebs in chess club…well, um…you see, my friend got called up to the board to answer some question during class and he didn't know the answer. He was embarrassed enough as it was, but the asshole that ended up answering it kept giving my friend crap about it the rest of class. The guy was in chess club, so we snuck into the library when they had their little meeting going and dropped a stink bomb," Jimmy sheepishly explained, bringing the bullet up to his lip and absently setting it between his teeth, chuckling at the memory, "It was really funny. A few seconds later, they were all yelling and blaming each other for the smell."
"Yeah, a couple kids at school did that to our club once too," Ben admitted and Jimmy fell silent, tucked his chin into his collar and slumped back in his seat, "What do you think your friends would say if they knew you were learning to play chess right now?"
Jimmy shrugged.
"They'd probably make fun of you, right?" Ben pressed.
"Probably. Not that it would matter," Jimmy answered, "We didn't target them because they played chess, Ben; we did it because they were condescending assholes."
"Maybe one of them was…"
"What would your friends say if they knew you were teaching someone like me to play this game?" Jimmy challenged.
"Someone like you? What does that even mean?" Ben demanded.
"Oh please, now's really not the time to pretend like you hadn't sorted us into our proper school cliques long before we ever started hanging out," Jimmy seethed.
"Fine, sure, if that's what you think."
"It's what I know," Jimmy stated evenly, "You were a dork. So what was I, Ben? Go on, you can say it."
"I don't know," Ben relented, "The cool kid, I guess."
Jimmy burst out laughing, "Fuck you, I was not."
"Really? Did you get shoved into your locker? Your head flushed? Books knocked out of your hands? Crap beat out of you on a regular basis? Shit poured into your book bags? Never invited to parties? Ignored by the general student population unless it involved public humiliation on your part?"
"Yes, no, never carried books, not regularly but yes, see previous answer, only parties worth going to my best friend threw so sure, okay, yeah, I got invited to parties, and no, I wasn't ignored by the general student population, but fuck, I really would have preferred it that way," Jimmy rattled off answer, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Ben, "If my friends were here right now, yeah, they'd make fun of me for learning to play chess. But be honest, Ben, if your friends were here right now, what do you really think they'd say? They'd also make fun of me for learning to play chess. Now tell me, where in there does this suck for you?"
"I don't know," Ben whispered, smirked up at Jimmy, "I guess it's a good thing for us that neither of our old friends are here."
"I guess," Jimmy agreed.
Ben twisted the board around so that Jimmy was now white and gestured him to make his first move.
"No. I don't want to go first," Jimmy protested.
"You've never played white. This is the only way you'll learn, you have to see both sides of the board," Ben explained, "Go ahead. Make a move."
Jimmy groaned, leaned forward and glared at the board. A minute then two ticked by and Ben looked at Jimmy with growing concern. Jimmy peeked at him, dropped his eyes back to the board, randomly selected a piece and shoved it into place. Ben took his turn and again, Jimmy stared at the board.
"Who made the bomb?" Ben asked, when Jimmy's intent staring down at the chess pieces, willing them to reveal the proper moves needed to win the game, finally got to him.
"What bomb?" Jimmy returned, eyes never lifting from the board, bullet precariously clasped in his teeth.
"The stink bomb."
There was a short pause.
"One of my friends," Jimmy finally answered, "Only thing he learned from chemistry."
"Oh."
"Why? Who did you think made the bomb?" Jimmy prompted, leaning back and meeting Ben's gaze.
"No one. I don't know, I was just asking," Ben took a haggard breath, "I thought maybe you. I mean, you built those bombs out at the alien structure."
"I suck at chemistry," Jimmy said off-handedly, "Only thing I was good at in chemistry was blowing things up, and even then, only when I didn't want things to blow up. Otherwise, nothing. I pretty much suck at everything school, books, smart whatever, related."
"Except math," Ben noted.
Jimmy froze, bullet dropped from his lip, eyes shooting up to meet Ben's.
"Who told you I was good at math?"
"No one told me," Ben said, shrugged, smiled uncertainly, "It was kind of obvious. Out at the structure, when you were building those bombs and when we went to set them up, you were doing – hell, I don't even know how many complex equations in your head. I wouldn't even know where to begin to figure out the shit you calculated out there, and I told you before that I've heard you talking with Dai. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a secret."
"It's not a secret, I just…" Jimmy scowled at the chess board, "Was surprised you knew is all."
"That's why I think you'd be awesome at chess, because you're smart," Ben continued.
"I can make sense of numbers, that doesn't make me smart," Jimmy grumbled.
"No, I know…well, but you are smart, I just mean that there's a lot of math involved in chess," Ben explained, quietly confessed, "That's kind of why I was never better at chess. I'm horrible at math, it's my worst subject."
"Which means what? You got a 'B' instead of an 'A' every year?"
"I've almost flunked out of math classes before," Ben said flatly.
"Oh. If it makes you feel any better, I have flunked out of math classes before," Jimmy offered.
"Somehow I don't believe you."
"It's true," Jimmy mumbled, "It's kind of what happens when you only show up three days out of the week all year and you never turn in any homework. They put me in this advanced math class, trigonometry, right? They made me do this test and decided I wasn't being challenged, so that's why I wasn't…how did they word it again…'applying myself'. Right up until the aliens invaded, I was flunking the stupid class."
"You were in trigonometry," Ben gaped.
"Yeah, why?"
"You were twelve!"
"So? It's just circles and triangles. It was simple enough," Jimmy muttered, "I kept trying to do better, I aced every test anyway, but it was boring and I didn't want to be there. Teacher was a jackass too."
"Why are you not better at chess?" Ben cried, flabbergasted.
Jimmy moved another piece and Ben slapped a hand to his face, pushing one of his knights into position.
"Check mate."
"Fuck. Stupid game."
They reset the board in silence. Ben took back white, and moved his first piece. They settled into another game and a few turns in, Ben peered up curiously at Jimmy.
"What did Weaver want earlier?"
"Nothing. Just the compass," Jimmy answered, though his words were casual, his shoulders tensed slightly.
"Really? Why?" Ben demanded, "It's not like your sense of direction has gotten any better."
"He wanted to give it to his daughter. It's not a big deal, he was just loaning it to me, and he needs it back now. I don't care."
"Okay, if you say so," Ben reluctantly agreed, scrunched his nose, and commented, "It's kind of weird he called you to the tent just to get the compass back like that. Doesn't seem like him."
Jimmy said nothing, took his turn, placing the bullet between his teeth again.
Ben frowned at the board, pushed his bishop into place and meekly stated, "Check mate."
"I really hate this game."
.
.
.
AN: Okay, so the bullet gift scene was different than what I'd originally had in mind, but it would've taken time and forced me to spread out the story more to make what I wanted to happen work, so this is what we got instead. I doubt anyone remembers, but in First Patrol, in one of the flashbacks, it was noted that Jimmy's mom had a necklace she wore - gift from his dad - that she would kind of bite on whenever she was anxious or feeling emotional, similar to Jimmy's chewing his inner cheek, so now that he's got this bullet, he's already starting to adopt his mom's old habit. just a little trivia info for you peeps. Right. I didn't like this chapter, fluffy's all around, and me trying to force writing to come out. I've finished next weeks chapter though, go me! And I've already started the chapter after that.
Here's the plan: I've outlined the last parts of this story (I've decided to split this story into two, because it's getting so massive), so there should be about ten chapters left, which I hope to write before the week's end. I start classes in a week. This story will end on a cliffhanger, something for you all to look forward to, then the next story will pick up where these leaves off. If all goes according to plan, another story will follow the one after this, which will bring this series to four stories in total. Also, once I've finished posting the last ten or so chapters of this story, I will post the first chapter of my dark future fic. Sound good? Okay.
Lastly, I won't answer this question again: Rick, Kelsey, and yes, Karen, will all be reappearing sometime in the future. Ryan and Gary will definitely be in the next story...sadly, they aren't going to make it into this one, they would've before the split, but you know...
Thanks for reading, let me know what you think please!
Reviewers: JoshDeakin, I'm glad to hear you liked it! This chapter was a bit less drama-ish, I think. Roman's declaration is most certainly going to stir up trouble, the kind of trouble that will carry through a story or two. Tom will be finding out about the relationship very soon, so there's that to look forward to. And yes, it was only hinted at in First Patrol but confirmed in Falling Snow, though Falling Snow isn't technically cannon to this series, that Ryan had feelings for Jimmy. SassySavanna190, lol, hello girly! I honestly hated the show for introducing Jeanne after Jimmy's death. The very next episode too. And then, Jimmy never came up, I really wanted for Weaver to tell Jeanne about him when he gave her the compass in that episode. So yeah, as usual, I'm changing around the events that I wanted to see happen, and apparently, others were pretty interested in seeing too. Glad you liked how it played out. Poor Jimmy, I know you thought he shouldn't have given up the compass, but it was never his to begin with, and that's the sad part, I guess. Nothing is ever his. Roman, yup, he's a problem. He does know how to get under Jimmy's skin. His motives, and true emotions, will become clearer as the story progresses. And I can't wait to see how Tom reacts to the boys' news either, few more chapters and we'll find out, I guess. As for you rant, I think Dee made a really good point about divergent character storylines not allowing room for Jimmy, shows only have so much of a budget, so they need to trim whatever fat they can in a coming season. What to do? Kill off the character they can't fit into the storyline. I read a blog post once about how killing Jimmy off allowed for everything else to happen after, Ben's leaving to join the Skitters and whatnot, but personally, I thought it made Ben's decisions afterwards harder to swallow (ie. his joining up with Jimmy's murderer; I'm never getting over that one) and that it would've been more believable for me, and amped up the drama a bit, if they'd kept Jimmy alive, had him trying to keep Ben from leaving but ultimately, maybe having Jimmy do something that demonstrates to Ben he'll never be understood by the 2nd Mass, and going. Whatever. I don't doubt they didn't think that far ahead into the third season. I'm sure Deni's character came up long after season 2's events were said and done. You can't connect the two, really. It would've been nice if they'd had both characters, Jimmy representing one part of Ben and Deni representing another, and possibly causing tension between Jimmy and Deni. I don't know. I see awesome plotlines all over the place with that one. NoxOne, good to know the scene came out as awkward as I wanted. Yeah, Jimmy's always going to be insecure, I think. I've already talked about how I'm not a huge fan of Lourdes, though I have plans for her in my dark future fic that I think might catch a lot of people off guard...never thought I'd say this, but I'm really looking forward to writing her scenes. Dee, I'm not really one that can criticize tardiness lately, not to mention, you have a very valid excuse. Mothering duties always trump review writing. Hope your son enjoys the new school year and best of luck to him! Yeah, Jimmy is always that cheap substitute, isn't he? Poor guy. He's going through a lot, losing a lot. I do put him through the ringer, don't I? I just love him too much not to pick on him. I'm glad you like Jeanne, what you said is funny, because I'd considered putting a line in there, her telling Jimmy if he ever gets tired of hanging out with the 2nd Mass, he should think about joining up with them, but it never quite fit in the dialog and would've ruined the mood I was going for. Hah, I knew you were going to be mad at Roman, and a little at Jimmy. The aftermath of Roman's declaration should prove interesting. Yes, things are going to come to blows, but not how anyone is predicting yet. Hal didn't pull no punches, and Tom's reaction is coming soon, brace yourself. And Maggie, oh poor Maggie. LuckyDreamer91, yes, get to writing! I appreciate your kind words! Hope you can turn out something amazing, too, I know it's difficult to find that motivation, so hopefully, hopefully...and yeah, I'm thinking another AU may be coming in the distant future. Sweet, new fan, love it! SexySoupMaid11, aww, I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed my stories so much. Honestly, I figured out how I wanted the story to develop before I began writing, and the entire plotline is basically thought out, so all I'm doing from one week to the next is getting the chapters written, which is, of course, the hard part. I can certainly understand the Jimmy/Ben addiction, they are a lot of fun to write, and yeah, I plan on giving them a break from fighting for several more chapters, kind of giving them time together before the really bad thing happens. I'm really flattered that you would want my opinion on your story, unfortunately, as a rule, I do not accept requests by reviewers to read and give feedback on their stories. I know it seems unfair, but I don't go to other writer's stories and solicit my own, people read and review my stories based on my writing's own merit. Honestly, if you're looking to better your writing, and get good constructive criticism, this isn't the place to do it. Most people on fanfiction are just here to enjoy themselves. And also, I can't tell you how to be better at developing characters and story, the best thing you can do is to read and write. Read stories by people that are better writers than yourself, compare their work to your own and see what you're not doing but they are that works, read about writing, read non-fiction about psychology and sociology, memoirs and all that crap. Everyone forgets to read non-fiction, but it's almost more important than reading fiction, gives you a better clue of how the real world works. Write all the time, constantly, join a writing class, critique group or if your school has a club. There are websites set up specifically for the purpose of getting constructive feedback on your writing, search those out. Better yet, use the beta reader function on this site, in your account settings, to find a beta. Beta's will help you out with your writing, let you know what's working and what's not, and they do it because they want to. I don't offer my services as a beta because, frankly, I don't have the time or interest in doing it. I know it's not the answer you wanted, but hopefully you'll take the advice anyways?
Thanks for dropping in everyone. I'll see you next week!