NOTE:
I finished this chapter around the same time as chapter 2, and I've been sitting on it for ages while I caught up chapters 3 and 4. It's been driving me nuts! So now it's out there, let me know what you think?
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August 3, 1998
"There it is, our little piece of heaven!" Grandpa called out as he maneuvered the Rustbucket into the RV park and turned towards their spot. He was overly cheery, which was more than a little weird since he was talking about a campground spot.
"Really, Grandpa?! Heaven?! I think you're overblowing it, don't you?" Ben said sarcastically. He glanced at Gwen with a smirk, then got a worried look when she didn't look up or add any snarky commentary. She was always more likely to agree with the idea that the great outdoors was beautiful as well as full of ways to have fun, but she still drew a line at over-the-top gushing about it. His cousin was always good at dishing out heavy sarcasm - she had an unusual talent for it, actually, something he knew firsthand since he was often the target over the last few years - but she had dialed back the mean edge it had when they started their trip. It was one of the things that first made him think maybe she wasn't a totally lost cause - the dweeb never let such blatant fake sentimentality go unanswered.
Not taking advantage of an opportunity like that was so not like her.
"I know it's not West Virginia, but Jackson Hole isn't that different. Just look at those mountains!" their grandfather said. Grandpa knew how their verbal game worked. Heck, he taught them the finer points of the rules! This trip was a master class in how to play the game. He didn't leave openings like that by accident; Ben knew the big man had noticed her unnatural quiet, too. She just wasn't taking the bait.
The scenery was awesome, if you liked this sort of thing. The tops of the Grand Tetons beyond the town glowed cotton-candy pink as the setting sun reflected off the steel gray slopes and jagged peaks, topped with snow from an early storm. Ben shifted in the booth opposite Gwen, uncertain about the strange distant look in her eyes. At least she was looking up now, though, unlike how she silently stared through the table during the drive to the campground after they went hero that afternoon. A couple of low level muggers that took less than ten minutes; Gwen's takedown of one of them had been epic! Ben was actually disappointed by the encounter - he hardly got to do much with the other one after the Omnitrix transformation worked the way he wanted for a change. The guy took one swing at him and got deflected by a shield the Dweeb put around his Diamondhead form, then pretty much gave up when his tough and strong alien form connected one half-strength punch.
"We'll be connected and ready for a fire soon" Grandpa said as he parked the RV and hopped out to hook up the utility cables and water lines. "Then I'll get dinner started."
Ben grimaced at that. Grandpa came back from his grocery trip yesterday with bags from a local specialty market - who knew what kind of weird stuff he came back with? He looked up one package he couldn't make sense of - he never heard that the lakes in the Rocky Mountains had fresh water oysters - and crossed his legs and almost barfed just from reading the explanation. Not to mention how his face burned as she read it over his shoulder! Thankfully she only made gagging noises about the web article and chose not to make any comments about his male sensitivities!
Rocky Mountain oysters for dinner?! Now would be a good time to head off that disgusting possibility. And the mortifying conversation that was sure to be part of it!
And maybe making dinner would snap her out of the funk she was in; they'd gotten good at both making tasty, interesting meals and having fun doing it together. He stood up from the bench seat and stepped to the refrigerator.
"I don't know about you, but catching those bad guys made me hungry. I could eat a whole elk!" he said, trying to break her somber mood. A statement like that left him wide open for all kinds of put-downs, and Gwen was exceptionally creative with how she took advantage of his verbal slip-ups, unintentional or not. He hid a smirk as he wondered which direction she'd take it.
Nothing.
His shoulders sagged a little at her non-reaction. This just wasn't at all like her, and for all the comments he'd made in the past about wanting her to shut up, now that she had he found he really didn't like it. It worried him, and that fact worried him even more.
It was one thing for her to give him the silent treatment when he got her wound up - getting even that reaction had been the point, after all, and his gloating and then complaining about it was part of their game - but this was different. She may not have been talking out loud to him during those times, but the glares, stomping around and muttering under her breath were evidence that she knew he was playing the game, and so was she. Now she barely said more than five words after they left the captured bad guys for the cops to find, along with the weapons they had left (safely out of their reach, of course) underneath the CCTV camera that recorded the evidence of their criminal intentions.
Why was she acting this way? They saved the day again! And no one got hurt, not even the bad guys. Much.
"There's stuff to make bow tie pasta with sausage and peppers. I figured we could do that before Grandpa brings out more meal worms or canned rattle snake or whatever other crazy stuff he found yesterday. Want to help?" He looked expectantly at her over his shoulder as he opened the fridge door, hoping for even a small bit of interest.
"Yeah. That sounds better than the nasty package you looked up." she quietly said with a weak smile as she started to get up. It was better than how she had been hanging her head, but the smile didn't make it to her eyes.
He put Italian sausages, some red and yellow peppers, and an onion on the cutting board next to the sink while she got out a pot and frying pan. She filled the pot with water, standing at the sink to his right. She still wasn't her usual happy self, which bothered him more than it might have a month or two ago, but at least they were making dinner together and she was finally talking. He hoped she'd be more like herself once they were ready to eat. Ben peeled off the dry white outer skin of the onion as she put the pot on the stove and lit the burner under it.
"Hey, Dweeb, would you hand me the big knife so I can cut these up? There's a jar of marinara sauce with the pasta in the cabinet we can doctor up."
Gwen turned silently to grab the chef's knife, and stared at it as she turned to face him. He waited expectantly with his right hand out as she held on to it for another five seconds. Ben was about to make some clever, sarcastic comment about her brain being frozen when she looked up at him. Her normally happy, bright green eyes were dark and watery, and he felt an uncomfortable lump form in his throat at the sight. Then she got a determined look and carefully set the knife down and gave him a piercing stare directly into his eyes.
"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU DOOFUS!" she shouted.
What the…? "Hunh?! Do what? What are you talking about?!"
"Go charging after a guy with a knife without Grandpa with you! Or me!"
Ah, the run-in with the bad guys. She was hung up on that? "I had to go after the guy, and you and Grandpa were busy with his partner. What's the problem?!"
She had cleaned the guy's clock with a nifty spin kick to his knee, followed by a hard punch to his nose as he crumpled over. A grown man who outweighed her by at least a hundred and twenty pounds dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, blood running out of his nostrils. Grandpa pounced on him, somehow with a plastic cable tie to bind his thumbs together behind his back. Ben remembered grinning at her wicked-cool karate moves; she had been awesome!
Not that he would tell her that. He was the hero, after all.
She took a step towards him, hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her face was angry, although her eyes were almost overflowing. "He was going after you with it! He almost stabbed you right … here!" She poked him twice in the middle of his chest, hard.
"So?! I was Diamondhead by then, it would have just bounced off!" He yelled back. He had been slapping down on the watch as he chased the guy, and the green flash of the Omnitrix had just finished before the criminal could strike.
"And what if you weren't?! The Watch doesn't always work the way you want! You're always complaining about that!" Gwen was still shouting as she smacked her hand against his chest again and glared at him. "If I hadn't put the shield spell around you he would have hit you!"
"So what?!" he glared right back. "I've taken plenty of hits before today!"
Gwen sucked in a quick breath. "That knife was six inches long, Ben! I stopped it right here!" She slapped his chest two more times to emphasize the words, but left her hand over his breastbone. Her glare broke, replaced by a terrified look as tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
"It would have gone into your heart! You would have been ki-" Her voice hitched, then she sniffled hard. "You would have been hurt really bad!" she said with a low, quivering voice.
Suddenly she hugged him tight, burying her face in his shoulder. A couple sobs escaped her as he timidly put his arms around her, not knowing what to do with the suddenly crying girl.
"Why don't you get it? I… " she mumbled into his shirt. "I don't want to see that happen to you! I couldn't stand it if something really bad happened!" She pushed her face harder into his shoulder, and he felt her tears seep into the cloth.
There was nothing he could say to that. A few sarcastic comments popped into his brain, but he knew he couldn't use them. That would only make her feel worse, and he felt bad enough that she was upset like this because of him. He hadn't seen her cry in years and watching her now, undone, knowing he caused it, was awful.
Ben held her a little tighter instead; only to keep her from falling down, of course. Crazy dweeb.
After a minute, Gwen collected herself and pushed away from him, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves. "I mean, how would Grandpa and I explain that to your parents?" she said between sniffles, looking at her sneakers. "I'm sorry Aunt Sandra, Uncle Carl, Ben is gone because he's a stubborn, impulsive jerk who wouldn't wait for me to watch out for him?" she mimicked the imaginary conversation. She wrapped her arms around her middle.
"Please don't make me do that." she pleaded softly, more than a hint of shakiness still in her voice.
Wow. She was always nagging at him to be careful, to think before just jumping into a fight, to wait for his partner (her, of all people) to help, and gloat a little after a fight when he got slapped around and took a bruise or two. He heard some concern creep into her voice in the last few weeks, but she never sounded scared about his safety before. Ben got that they were family and were supposed to have some protective feelings for each other, but since when did she get emotional like this about it?
Gwen cared that much about him?
The idea made his brain screech to a halt.
Why?!
So not like her. He knew this would be a terrible time to even sound like he was making fun of her, but he had no idea what to say, either. So he fell back to what he did know, but dialing back his usual snarkiness because… He didn't know why. It just felt like the right thing to do this time.
"As if!" he replied, matching her tone of voice. "They know better than to believe I'd let you watch out for me any more than I'd let them!"
She knew he was trying to get her to laugh, or at least smile. He hoped so, anyway. She looked up from staring at his chest, a trace of the fear still in her eyes.
"Ben!" she said gently, a little of her usual annoyance in her voice.
He raised his hands in surrender and let them fall back to his sides. "All right! I won't go after bad guys as just plain old me without you!"
"Promise?"
He snorted and held up his right hand, extending his little finger. "Pinky swear."
She let out a low sigh. "OK." She took it with the little finger on her right hand and held them together for a long moment, finally looking him in the eyes. The look in them was close to what he expected, a mix of being fed up with his attitude and a little embarrassed at her emotional outburst. But there was something else he'd only seen in the past couple of weeks, something he couldn't put a name to - concern, maybe, and… friendship?
No one looked at him like that before. He didn't have any close friends at school, just a few guys that liked to play card and video games and laughed sometimes when he acted up in class, intentionally or otherwise. No one who really cared about him, though - no one who was concerned when he got in trouble or banged up at recess, or laughed with him instead of athim, or had fun with him like they did this summer.
And how did that happen, anyway? Ben remembered when they were friends when they were little, when they had fun together all the time. Something changed that a few years ago, but he was fuzzy on the exact reason why. They had a fight that was more intense than anything before then, and then their moms stopped getting together afterwards. After that they were at best indifferent whenever they saw each other, at least until he started hearing more and more about all the things she was great at - school, clubs, dance, gymnastics. Did someone mention straight A report cards? And then she started karate and turned out to be good at that too… All that excellence drove him nuts! And her know-it-all attitude sure didn't help.
That was all before summer started. Getting past snotty Gwen (and his fed-up, less than open attitude, to be fair) and getting to know each other again had been… better than he expected when he first saw her in the RV the day the trip started, even if it was pretty rocky at first. They would have figured out how to get along even without the Omnitrix, though, if for no other reason than teaming up against their common problem with Grandpa's barely edible cooking. But they did more than just get along; cooking together proved they could do more than just tolerate each other. It helped them see they could cooperate, to trust each other, to help each other out and try new things together.
Things he never would have even thought of by himself at home.
Gwen would have, though. She would've done them without him, too; but she had to have plenty of friends at that fancy school she went to. She didn't need him for it.
So why did she care about him?
He realized he'd been staring at her when she ducked her head, blushing crimson as she asked shyly "What?"
He didn't know why, but he ended up grinning at her. "Nothing. … Come on, Dweeb, we need to finish dinner, or we're gonna end up eating fried bull balls or something."
"Be-enn! Ewww!"
She slowly got back to her usual self as they went back to cooking. Except for the smile she gave him first - it lit up the space they were in, and made him feel good because she did.
When did he start to pay attention to stuff like that?
Gwen dumped the pasta in the boiling water and got the frying pan ready while he cleaned and sliced the veggies, leaving them in separate piles on the cutting board. After he did the same to the sausages, he got a colander from a cabinet and put it in the sink. Gwen put the sausage slices in the pan with a satisfying sizzle, laughing (finally!) at how he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
"It's just some sausage, Doofus! It's not like we're in a Michelin-star kitchen or anything!" she said as she flipped the slices so they'd sear on both sides.
He opened his eyes and couldn't stop the smile he got from watching her. It was good to see her improved attitude. "Just shows we can cook just as well in our crappy little galley. As long as you don't burn 'em, that is!" he finished with a smirk.
"Up yours! I'm not the one who turned those steaks into shoe leather last week!"
"Like you weren't caught up in the story on the radio, too!" Grandpa had been listening to a local news station, talking about 'a strange lightning storm in the Black Hills' that was actually them dealing with another drone attack Vilgax sent after them. As if the three of them couldn't handle Old Squid Face's dumb robots!
Ben picked up the cutting board and held it next to the frying pan. "Ready?"
"Yeah, drop 'em in."
Another loud sizzle as the pepper and onion slices hit the hot grease. Ben put the board down and admired her technique with the cast iron skillet, shaking it with both hands to flip the ingredients together before putting it back on the burner grate.
"You're getting pretty good at that!"
"Thanks! And nice job cutting everything up, they're cooking together just the way I want. Can you get the marinara ready?"
Eight minutes and some playful bickering over how much oregano and basil to add to the jar of sauce later, dinner was ready. Ben drained the perfectly al dente pasta in the colander as Grandpa came into the RV.
"Good thing I checked the gas tank on the generator, it was almost empty." he said before tilting his head to the left and sniffing the air. "Who made dinner? … Smells good!"
Ben was fetching some bowls from a cabinet as Gwen answered. "We both did. It was the Doofus's idea, and he even managed to cut up the veggies and sausage without leaving pieces of his fingers with 'em."
"And the Dweeb sautéed it all together and cooked in the sauce. Although I don't think 'blackened' means 'burned to a crisp'."
Gwen stuck her tongue out at him, then actually giggled. "And, we both figured out how much to doctor it up with some more herbs. Curry powder and lots of cayenne pepper, like you showed us Grandpa." Ben grinned at her for the way she riffed bad cooking techniques and worse ingredients with him. They both knew what they put together would taste great, but they could play their game even while cooking. He knew she was really sharing the credit for getting dinner ready. That and the smile she gave him back made him feel like the name of the Cowboy Bar in the Jackson Hole town square, not far from where they were parked.
Grandpa chuckled. "Glad to see you two do know how to work together!" He paused and got a serious look on his face, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.
"About that, Ben. … You…"
It was a sudden change in atmosphere, but not really a surprise. Ben stared dejectedly at the floor. He expected this after Gwen's complaint, but not so soon. And it just wasn't fair! How many times would he get scolded for the same thing?!
"You don't need to get on his case about this afternoon, Grandpa. I already did. I'm sure Ben will wait from now on for at least one of us before chasing a bad guy with a weapon." Gwen said in a low voice.
"He knows why, too."
Ben looked up at her and cringed at her expression. Her eyes had the fear and sadness he saw earlier, a look he never wanted to see in her eyes again. He especially didn't want to be the reason for it. It only lasted for a moment, though, replaced by an encouraging look and a shy smile that went with the friendship he felt a little while ago, when they started cooking. He felt his cheeks heat up as he returned it.
"Does he now?" Grandpa said in mild tone, glancing from Ben to his cousin and back. "What do you say, Sport?"
Ben looked the man in the eyes and saw then neither of his relatives were scolding him; they were genuinely concerned about him.
"Yeah, I get it. Unless I'm already an alien I won't leave the Dweeb behind and take on a bad guy with a knife or something by myself." He turned to catch Gwen's eyes. "That goes for you, too, though. I don't want to face Uncle Frank about you getting hurt."
He visibly shuddered. "I can't even think about what your Mom would do…" he muttered. He knew his aunt cared for him despite her often cold attitude, but if her daughter got hurt because of him… He couldn't bear to even finish the thought.
Max shifted his gaze from him to Gwen and back, considering what they both said. "All right. Looks like you got the message, Ben. Just remember I'm not picking on you - either of you, you've been in a few spots yourself, Pumpkin. I want you both to stay as safe as we can."
He drew in a deep breath through his nose, taking in the aroma rising from the cooktop. "So… Let's eat before this wonderful-smelling dinner gets cold.!" Ben's apprehension melted away at the grin Grandpa gave them, and he saw the same reaction from the Dweeb at his side. Sometimes the man's smile was all they needed to know the world was right…
"Oh, and make sure you leave some room for dessert, Ben. Someone whipped up a delicious looking treat buried in the back of the fridge. Chocolate mousse, by the looks of it." Grandpa said as he got dishes out of a cabinet.
"Pot du crème, actually." Gwen said, staring at his shoes. "I made it while you two were out fixing the leak in the oil cooler yesterday." She looked up and met his eyes with a bashful look and shrugged.
Ben knew what that was, they'd seen it featured on one of their cooking shows a few days ago. Pot du crème, chocolate mousse - it didn't matter which, really, since the main ingredient was his favorite - dark chocolate! And his Dweeb remembered him saying it during the show.
He grinned at her for a second. "Aw, you do care about me!" he said in the tone of voice he used for their game. He knew she didn't make it just for him, even though the thought made his brain twitch in a way it hadn't before - she liked chocolate too, and the recipe from the show made six servings.
Made his favorite dessert just for him?! The idea was absurd on its face! Her comeback to his gibe would be epic, given the circumstances. He could count on her to rise to the challenge.
Instead of launching a counterattack like usual, though, she gave him another shy smile. "Of course I do, Doofus! Like you've said before, it's what we do!"
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