Disclaimer: I don't own Ben 10 or any of its characters.

Pairing: Ben and Gwen

Universe: Original Series

Break Even

There was an unspoken harmony with their relationship – a harmony based on childish equilibrium, of getting back and losing just as much. He'd purposely bump unto her just to annoy her, she'd step on his foot when he least expect it. He'd eat the fudgie bar she's been saving for a special, savory moment, she'd snag his slice of favorite pizza. He'd put a hapless lizard on top of her head, she'd pour ice shavings inside his back.

He secretly enjoyed the exchange, and silently wished she did too, though he never bothered to give it much thought. Gwen was a constant in his life, he thought – whatever they have it was meant to last forever. At least that's what his innocent mind told him.

Until that fateful winter, when Max decided to splurge it up a little bit in a fancy new hotel meant for rich families with rich tastes, and with technologically inclined brats.

The cold outside that day afforded little comfort, so a long, warm bath was heavily due. Their room fully equipped with an HD TV bigger than his bedroom window, and a Playstation 4, the cousins were in for a treat. Max left them to be in their good behavior to do some side business which was clearly his main agenda to begin with. The two didn't mind. They trusted him.

Ben got dibs on the console despite it having two controllers, and Gwen decided to head for the showers first.

"Hey nerd, are you still alive in there?" he called, after what felt like an hour in.

Gwen stepped out as if on cue, steam coming out of the bathroom as she did, and threw a fresh towel at her cousin.

"Your turn." She said.

"Uh-huh, in a minute."

"Now, Ben." She said, pulling the boy by the collar. He managed to save his progress in that dungeon he was working on before deciding to let Gwen have her way bossing him around this time.

"Don't touch my game." He called as he ran just to get it done with, not bothering to face her.

As much as the shower felt nice on his admittedly fatigued body, his mind was focused too much on going back to his game, and so he was caught completely off guard upon returning to the room where his console was supposedly waiting.

Gwen was kind enough to humor him, and didn't as much as touch the controller. What she did was simply sprawl on the edge of the bed, robe still encasing her small frame, her slender arm dangling by the edge. Her orange hair, more silken and fragrant than usual, glistened from the lighting. His first idea was to suddenly snag her down from the bed, and then reprimand her for keeping a wet robe on which would most likely give her a cold.

Then he got closer, and it seemed like she was fast asleep. He knelt down, his initial plan unexpectedly dying a natural death, and found himself gazing at her for a moment. Before another childish prank could formulate itself in his head, he noticed a couple of things – like how her cheeks look like a slightly tanned layer of rose shades, how the hair on her forehead got loosely sprayed in a not so un-adorable way, and how her slightly parted lips looked moist and soft and inviting, and tempting, and just downright sweet.

"Gwen." He whispered, his chest closed to exploding from whatever excitement he was feeling.

A few seconds more, and he finally gave in, leaned his face towards hers, and that child in his head finally got lost in the void.

These were the events a few months back. The afternoon of yet another fall season the young Tennyson boy was feeling the weight of myriads of conflicts in his heart and mind. And while it didn't seem like she had any clue as to what happened that night, he didn't really leave anything to chance, and just outright avoided eye contact with her for the remainder of that trip. Her attempts to bridge the gap he made only ended up in awkward situations.

The equilibrium was lost, and so was that quiet, precious thing he once had with her. He took something from her, and she can't get it back, and she can't make it even. He could, but he was too fearful of the consequences, because before she can balance the scales again, she would have to know the truth, which is a far greater ordeal for him than any other alien threat out there.

Back in the real world his melancholic demeanor was clear. It wasn't extreme, and he didn't project any depression. But a couple of times his parents noticed this, noting the odd silence and the seemingly evasive behavior during family gatherings.

"Honey?" a lady's voice called, "Is everything okay?"

Water was gushing out of the faucet when stepped back into reality. He turned it off, and squeezed the sponge hard.

"I'm fine, mom." He said, getting back to work and trying to ignore her worried look.

"You've been out of it a lot lately. There's a lot in your mind, huh?"

"Nothing too serious." He told her.

"Hmm… except you seem to be taking it too seriously." She said, scooping a finger full of foam of dishwashing bubbles and tapping his tiny nose with it.

She managed to make him smile somehow – a sight of relief for any mother.

"Well, whatever it is you're going through, maybe your cousin can help you out."

He nearly dropped the plate he was holding when he heard that. Then again, they're a big family. It could be any of his cousins, right?

"Gwen's coming over for dinner – with Frank and Natt of course. It's been a while since you've seen her, right?"

"Gwen?" he whispered, partly in dread, and partly in longing, because by all accounts he desperately misses her. And would've done something about it had it not for the secret crime he had committed.

"Uh-huh – you two can catch up. I know you two don't always get along but I don't think there's anyone out there close to your age who knows you more than her."

That was true. Was. Until that night, when she trusted him enough to leave herself vulnerable, showing how little she actually knew him.

He quickly finished the chore, and ran up to his room to be, as dangerous as it was at that moment, alone with his thoughts.

"Darn it." He said under grinded teeth. Of course this was bound to happen. As big as their family tree was they're not as dysfunctional as the ones in the dramas, which means reunions, bondings, parties here and there, basically whatever reason they can come up with to get together. There was no way he was escaping his reality with Gwen.

He looked around his room, which was a let messier than it was a few months back. His 13 year old brain could only accommodate so much confusion as to prevent any wild, boyish management of his personal space – a minute consolation to his situation, something his mother definitely can be grateful for. Without really giving it much thought, he started fixing some of his stuff further: a thrown shirt here, a misplaced toy model there. He picked up a familiar comic book, one he shared huge interest with Gwen. They once took turns reading through all the issues until there was nothing left to read, and they had to wait for the new one next month.

He wondered if she has already read this one, and it made him grin how far he'd toy with her just so she can get her hands on it. The publisher only made a couple of copies, so it was limited edition with a featured 3-d section near the back.

Looking back now, he bought it specifically so he can read it with her. But then he remembered he wasn't in any position to do so. He forfeited such luxury for being such a nasty cousin, and a terrible friend.

He threw the comic book on his desk and decided a shower was in order to be the least bit presentable. It gave him some time to think of his next move. How was he supposed to behave in front of Gwen? Avoid her? It'll just raise more questions than what he can afford to answer. Act like she's pissing him off for no good reason? Nope, not even he could muster the nerve to do that.

Act naturally? How? After what he did, he couldn't even look at her, let alone get close to her. There's now this odd mixture of guilt and pleasure inside of him, where he knew he shouldn't have done that, but at the same time he actually enjoyed it – that scent of her hair that night, and soft texture of her lips seemed perpetually glued in his senses, and his mind could only do so much to push those strange fantasies he's been having whenever she's at close proximity.

He abruptly rose from the tub, finished the routine and quickly ran back to his room, heart pumping and face red not from the hot and supposedly quick bat, but from having Gwen preoccupy his thoughts in a not so safe manner. Now how was he supposed to act naturally when he was this much of a wreck?

Maybe a hot drink will clear his thoughts. He took a deep breath, put on a pair of plaid shorts and a clean shirt, and then went for the door.

A rough swing open and he was suddenly face to face with a young green-eyed girl who looked like she was just about to knock on his door. He blinked a couple of times before finally registering her presence in front of his room.

"Gwen." He squeaked.

"Pft."

He immediately gave her a scowl for that snicker of hers.

"Going somewhere?" she asked smirking in that smarty-pants, nerdy attitude of hers.

"Down the kitchen." He said with a raised eyebrow, quietly breathing a sigh of relief, like she was a breath of fresh air he was dying to get again.

"Hot chocolate?"

"Maybe."

"Got you covered, then." She'd been holding two cans of freshly heated cocoa at her back, and was waiting for the moment to shove one of them on his chest, which she did. She DOES know him too well.

"Oof!"

She continued to push the can on him, successfully infiltrating his room in the process. In retaliation, he reached out to his ear and attempted to twist it. He knew she was ticklish, and true enough it made her squirm away, giggling. He closed the door and jumped on the bed beside her to enjoy his cocoa.

Acting naturally, was it? Perhaps it wasn't necessary. Maybe he had avoided her long enough, and it was time to get back to how things were.

"I didn't know you take baths." Her first snarky remark before sipping her drink.

"Funny." He said, and started thinking of something to throw back at her. Nothing came to mind. All he could do was thank the moment for having her with him, and for not juicing his brain with strange thoughts while she sat there close to him.

"Weren't you supposed to arrive at dinner time?" he asked, purposely sounding annoyed.

"Yeah, but hanging out didn't seem like a bad idea."

"And what made you think I wanted to hang out with you?" he said cockily with a grin.

"Aunt Sandra said you could use it. And…" she seemed to have hesitated there for a moment. Ben did a side glance, and notice she was fidgeting with her can between her crossed legs, somewhat looking awkward, but not out of the ordinary Gwen-type of way.

"And?" he goaded in jest.

"And…" she started, taking a deep breath with that first word as if the next ones were well thought of, "…I figured, if you'd kiss me in my sleep, chances are you wouldn't mind spending some time with me."

He suddenly felt the entire universe stop in its track of time.

Whatever fluid property his drink had got lost midway down his throat as it turned into a clump and got stuck there painfully. He coughed, and wheezed, and tried to convince himself he didn't heard her right, before staring at his cousin with genuine fright. The girl had a taint of blush in her own cheeks. She was still cupping her can, innocently rocking back and forth and looking down. He couldn't decipher her expression. She had a small smile, looking tranquil, and at the same time amused, which, knowing her, could mean a lot of things.

"Yup, I was awake." She said simply, breaking the minute long silence, "And nope, I haven't told grandpa. Nor anyone else for that matter. Not yet anyway."

It was one of those life's curve balls – fast, unexpected, hitting a critical strike. His hold on his own can was a lot more tense than how Gwen was holding hers.

She didn't say anything else after that.

"So?" he asked in a grumble, unable to tolerate the suspense any longer.

"So?" she repeated the question.

"So, aren't you going to say it?"

"Say what?"

He got this annoyed look on his face when he faced her. She in turn got a curious one, with the amusement hardly going away.

"Oh, I don't know, things that you normally say!" he said, his tone elevating slightly, "You'd go like 'God, Ben, you're so gross, how can you do it to poor li'l 'ol me.' And then something like, 'I'm so going to sue your ass for sexual assault.'"

"Now hold on…" she tried to stop him, but he seemed to be getting frantic.

"I mean, yeah sure, it was such a horrible thing to do, kissing you while you were sleeping, or PRETENDING to be sleeping. Which is of course still my fault, ignoring the fact that you might've set me up, but hey, I still took the bait right? Well congratulations, your cousin has a crush on you. You're definitely going to rub this on my face for like years if not forever, huh? You know, I couldn't sleep for weeks after that, and even after I've gotten over the fact that I've done you a terrible thing I still feel guilty for doing it. So I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how you're going to take this and I'm pretty sure I ruined something between us, I don't know, that doesn't make sense, but anyway…"

"Okay, stop." She said, finally finding a vocal volume higher than his, "First of, granted, there are times when I go berserk on you but I'm not about to do that now when you're being so miserable. Second, I hear you cuss one more time, Benjamin Kirby Tennyson, I'm going to hit you with something hard."

That last point in her outline got him backing in his corner of the bed slightly. He knew her well enough to know she'd really do it.

"Third," she took a deep breath before continuing, "I didn't think it was gross. And I still don't."

His eyes softened as he gazed at her, questioning like a little puppy unsure if he was being a good boy.

"You don't?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly. "I thought it was… strange, for you to do it. Weird. Totally unexpected. Gross? Nah. You eating a whole burrito and then burping on my face, now that's gross. But this dork right here?" she said, drilling a finger on his lush and flustered left cheek, "I don't think what he did was gross at all."

He maneuvered his head to escape her invasive finger, much as he didn't actually mind the contact. What was important for him was right now. She was, in a way, cleansing his mind and heart, all the weight disappearing, and being replaced by a bouncy thrill in his chest for having her there with him. His feet dangled by the edge of his bed as he sat there looking uncharacteristically bashful.

Until Gwen decided to start toying with him again.

"So – got a crush on li'l o'l me, huh?" she said in a long, seductive tone.

"Oh, here we go."

"Come on, come on, say it. 'I love you Gwen. You're the light of my life.'" She was literally in fits after attempting a deep toned impression of a sop opera character.

"Geez, really?"

The boy's head was red, ear to ear, and he couldn't believe the situation he was in. But there wasn't any actual escape from the moment, really. All he could do was turn his back on her and just absorb the beating. Part of him felt like he deserved it, and if truth be shed to light on what he carried for the last couple of months, he'd think he deserves worse.

"So, you like it when I do this, then?" she asked in a whisper, putting her arms around him his neck and giving him a hug from behind.

"No." he said stubbornly, his blush burning brighter.

He refused to give her anything beyond an audible, frustrated grunt while he waited for her giggles to die down. After a while, when she was finally breathing steady and it was clear she was just using him to cozy up warmly, he decided to take a bit of a serious tone. He placed a hand on her arm to keep her in place while he spoke.

"What now?" he asked, enjoying the sensation of their cheeks rubbing together as his mouth moved.

"Not sure." She said, leaning her face closer to his, "I guess that's up to you."

"Me?"

"All I know is I used to have someone I could hang out with during school breaks, and I still want to spend fun times with that person." She said, pushing herself away from him and taking a stand by the bed in front of him. "This – between us, it's your call."

"Why me?"

"Well, you made the first move, I did the second one. I take it the ball's in your hands now. Just stop beating yourself up, okay? I'm not going to hate you because of it. So quit being a wuss, stand up, and own what you did." The last part of that statement was more of a concerned plea than a retort.

Ben understood. He had to figure it out first – what he wanted, where he was at this point of their relationship, and where he wanted it to be. But he realized, despite all that, Gwen has put herself in the role of a friend, a cousin, and maybe something more, just for him, and that's what he decided to take for now.

"So," he started, after a deep, relieved breath, "This is us getting even?" he asked.

"Hmmm…" she made a thoughtful pose, one he knew she was doing to just pull his chords, "Maybe."

Then she place a swift hand over his eyes, and before he could respond defensively, a soft glaze of what felt like rose's petal touched his lips. Beneath the darkness afforded by her palm he quietly enjoyed the feeling of her kiss, one she gave on her own this time. She lifted her hand from him and parted. Slowly he opened his eyes to see Gwen's bright, green ones, their noses still touching with the proximity, a string of drool made thick and brown from their last drank connecting their lips. Gwen leaned forward again to lick the string away from his bottom lip. She did it one more time, then again, ever so slightly glazing his skin each time, until the gesture made him stick a bit of his own tongue out, which she gave a quick, shy lick as well, before leaning back.

She gave him a sly, triumphant expression as she stood there, licking her own lips clean as if telling him she just tasted something pleasant. The look she then gave him, whatever begging face he was making at that moment Gwen was clearly enjoying it.

"This is ME, getting even." She whispered, leaning forward to rub her nose on his and tempt him for another kiss, which she, of course, denied him. "And this…"

All of a sudden, the more familiar face of Gwen Tennyson was back, as she pulled out his treasured, limited edition comic book, the one which was supposed to be on the desk beside his bed.

"This is me getting the upper hand."

She bolted out of the room after that, his precious comic at hand, and was already a good distance down the living room before Ben realized he had to chase after her and even the score once again.

The end.

I hope that last scene doesn't bother a lot of people. I wanted to show Gwen as more of a tease, and that's the best I can think of.