AN: I still own pretty much nothing. For those of you following and reading this story thank you so much for the amazing feedback. I'm not sure how many more chapters this story will have but I'll continue to update as much and as soon as possible.

He had no idea what he was doing. Perched, precariously in his father's old station wagon he stared down anxiously at his watch, 4:25 p.m. He had exactly five minutes to get his act together and drive over from the student parking lot to the gymnasium entrance where, his next door neighbor and AP English Lit partner would be waiting, prompt as ever.

Really, he had no idea what he was doing.

Even still—he couldn't find it in him to regret this current turn of events.

When he'd brought it up earlier at lunch, it was a half formed thought, born on a sudden and desperate need to spend more time with his arch rival, he never anticipated she'd actually go along with it.

But here he was. Staring down the immediate and rapidly approaching future, where he'd be spending the afternoon, with the pretext of working on a peer editing assignment of course—with Cindy Vortex.

He put the car in drive and turned around to the gym parking lot. He pulled around the half circle outside the entrance, and tried not to watch the doors. He was adjusting his side mirror when he heard the click of the passenger side door, and smelled her perfume gently waft through the car and into his senses.

"Hi." She said softly and almost shyly, swinging her bag into the back seat she smiled and peered at him curiously. "You okay?"

Crap, he thought, he was staring at her again. It was his newest and most unwelcome bad habit.

"Yeah, sorry just thinking of a model of something I've been working on." He supplied hastily—turning red as he realized he'd actually apologized to Cindy Vortex.

"It's fine." She answered, and continued looking out the window. She seemed to be contemplating something and Jimmy was about to ask her when he stopped himself.

Let her come out with whatever she has to say on her own he thought. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, and he reveled how even under the pretense of something so mundane as homework, they could function effectively, and rather nicely.

One of Jimmy's biggest (and secret) pet peeves was when their peers, friends and especially academic overseers remarked that: Jimmy and Cindy did not work well together. When in reality Jimmy thought, nothing could be farther from the truth.

In reality, they worked brilliantly together; they just had to want too.

As he pulled up to his house, another swell of nostalgia hit him. Cindy hadn't been in the lab in eons, and even farther back still when she'd been unaccompanied. He quickly shook those thoughts from his head, reminding himself that nothing had ever happened, there anyway between them.

She might have been thinking of something on a similar wavelength to him—for she stopped mid stride to the old club house and stared fondly at it for a moment.

"Does the roof still open up for your impromptu take offs?" She asked wistfully and he smiled coyly as he leaned forward and let the machine scan his retina, unfortunately for him he'd forgotten about Vox's updated sensor and she immediately picked up on Cindy's presence.

"Touch to confirm additional personas accompanying James I. Neutron: Cynthia A. Vortex DNA match detected" She chirped out automatically. And he hastily agreed to his own security precautions before she had a chance to be outraged that he somehow had her DNA programmed into his computer—as they two tumbled down into his underground oasis.

XXXX

He'd offered her his hand as he stood up, and she accepted, allowing his touch to pull her upwards. He steadied her on her feet for a moment but held her hand for a second longer than was necessary, dropping contact with her, he strode away, further into his fortress, allowing Cindy a much needed minute to marvel.

It had been ages since the gang had, had a real Jimmy Neutron style adventure. Truthfully, Cindy couldn't remember the exact last time she'd been allowed in Neutron's lab but she tried not to dwell on it—it was probably an unpleasant memory. After looking around some she followed the continuous clicking of what she assumed was his keyboard, into the main area, the space she had spent much of her time here in her youth. He looked up at her quickly but bent his head back down to whatever was currently occupying his attention; it looked to Cindy like he was entering data into a spreadsheet.

"What are you—" She began but he held his hand up in a gesture that undoubtedly made Cindy cross and reminiscent of her childhood. Nothing annoyed her more than him telling her to wait.

She was about to remind him of this particular fact (none too quietly) when he quickly saved whatever numbers he'd been pouring over moments ago, and closed the window, shutting down the distraction, and landing his attention solely on her. She fidgeted uncomfortably.

Deciding now was as good a time as any to bring up over what she'd been pondering about in the car, she blurted out something else she'd been mulling over, almost as much as she'd been thinking about them working together in the first place.

"How did you know I had written about Walt Whitman?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, his expression quickly morphing, and if Cindy didn't know his myriad of expressions as well as she knew the ones she saw in the mirror she might have bought the "confused yet interested" facial ticks. He was clearly stalling.

"In the cafeteria, when you paired us up, you said we both wrote about Whitman." She supplied, watching him carefully. "I was wondering how you knew that."

"Well actually—" He trailed off before meeting her eye. "It was just a guess. I know he's been one of your favorites lately. So I assumed—"

"How do you know he's one of my favorites?" She interrupted impatiently.

"Because…" Jimmy said while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The gesture so familiar to Cindy it made her heart ache. "Because you always doodle in the margins of poems, and pieces you really like. And I'd venture to guess you've marked up your entire copy of Leaves of Grass.

Blushing, Cindy found herself not for the first time—today dumbstruck. She was prepared to sound indignant, or at least self-assured but instead all she managed to squeak out was " and you notice things like that?"

"Not all the time, not for…everyone." He said slowly and carefully as though he was speaking to a young child or a slightly unstable psychiatry patient.

"Me?"

"Well, I am seated directly across from you, Vortex. " He bit out impatiently, however he reminded Cindy of another fact she'd been slightly obsessing over for weeks now.

"You do, "She said, adopting his slow and smooth tone. "Why is that?" Anticipating the follow up question, she continued on caution be damned. "Why did you sit next to me, in Lit anyhow?" Cindy asked trying to remain aloof in the threat of his impending response.

"I wanted too," He answered simply. Looking at her openly without pretense. He surprised himself with his honesty. But realty, it couldn't be that much of a shock to her. Right?

Still she felt herself, growing rather warm, and the sensation not entirely uncomfortable.

"We were arguing" she reflexively supplied as if they could both hide behind that excuse for their prolonged interaction.

So quietly she almost thought she'd imagined it he replied, "Not the next day."

XXXX

"I wanted too."

His own response on repeat in his mind, as he watched the enchanting girl from across the way try and puzzle out, what possible illegal substance Jimmy might be on. Her features soon relaxed though, as if a tiny part of her had been in fact, hoping for this answer to her inquiry. If he was being truly and entirely honest with her, and himself he was sure the answer to most of her questions regarding their situation could be given the same way.

"I wanted too."

"Why did he sit next to her in the first place?

Why would he trouble himself to know whom her favorite authors and works of literature they were studying?

Why would he also…purposely write on the same material she was, when there no chance she'd ever even know, or see him best her in it?

Why… why on earth would he partner them up for a project without consulting her, with the hopes that she'd simply go along with it and he'd end up in this exact—wonderful position he was in now.

"I wanted too." He repeated, with more confidence and walked over to the futon situated against one of the far walls, bringing his backpack and paper with him. She followed his lead, and sat with a respectable amount of distance between them as she too pulled out her lifeline, and ticket into the lab in the first place.

He wasn't sure if she was going to drop it—in fact it looked a bit like she was chewing her tongue before she answered.

"I'm glad you did."

What did she say?

She was glad—she had wanted to be his peer-editing partner?

"Then why didn't you just ask me?" He asked, shifting slightly in his seat a little to face her.

"Neutron, "She sighed. Looking around exasperatedly she pulled her knees up to her chest, her paper now clenched in a tight fist around her hand.

'

"If I had asked you to be my partner, would you seriously have said yes?"

Jimmy looked at her, sitting snugly only a few feet away from him, her bangs curling lightly around her face, her bright green eyes, guarded and impatient—but full of fear. A year ago, maybe a month ago, he would have said no. Thought she was playing some kind of prank on him, a sick joke. But now—now every part of him answered truthfully, "Yeah, I think, I think I would have."

Anxiety, and cold terror flooded him as he watched her face transform from surprise, to shock to absolute sadness. Unclenching her knees from her chest, she dropped her paper to the floor, stood and began to pace quickly in front of him.

"Vortex?" He spoke carefully, hoping a calm demeanor might get her attention. But she held her hand up, silencing him and for once he obeyed. Silently he watched her wear a path through the cement.

XXXX

"Yeah, I think, I think I would have."

What in the hell does that mean? She thought desperately as she strode back and forth in front of the futon, in Neutron's lab—still not entirely sure how she'd ended up there in the first place.

"Vortex?" His voice breaking through the beginnings of her near hysteria—but not now, no now she needed to figure out how to get out of this entire mess. Betty's words echoing through her mind now, as she held her hand up to Jimmy—she needed time to process.

If he had wanted you, he would have made his move two years ago when you threw yourself at him.

Everyone knows no one would make a worse couple than you and Neutron.

You're too loud Cindy. You're too oppositional Cindy. You're too intimidating Cindy.

You're too smart, Cindy.

She stopped pacing and spun on her heel to stare at him.

"Cindy—" He tried again even softer this time but she interrupted him, and blurted out that one thing she'd wanted to know more than why he wrote on Whitman, or made her his partner at all.

"Why didn't you ever ask me out?

XXXXX

What the hell

Of all the things—phrases, statements, outrages to come out of Cindy Vortex's mouth, this was the one Jimmy Neutron had been least suspecting. In fact, he wasn't suspecting it at all. But now he had a rather angry looking girl standing in the middle of his lab—expecting some kind of answer.

"Why didn't you ever ask me out?"

He looked down at his hands now resting on his knees, and up into her anxious face and had no choice but to tell her the truth.

"I wanted too, Cindy. Believe me…I really did. There was always just something that always came up and—"

"And you didn't have five minutes to have a conversation with me, someone you've known for years Jimmy? Don't you think you owed me that?"

He watched her valiantly swipe at her eyes, desperate to hide any weakness from him.

"Whatever." She huffed. "It's not—that doesn't matter now. That's not what I'm here for anyway… obviously. We should get to our actual assignment—"

"Wait." He interrupted her. She stopped moving altogether but he motioned for her to return to the couch beside him. She moved slowly, and he was grateful. He wasn't sure what he was going to say but…he felt this need this, undeniable urge to continue this conversation.

When she sat on the futon, a little farther away than the first time, Jimmy slid over and lightly grasped her hand.

"What are you doing?" She hissed and ripped her hand out of his grasp.

"I was trying to hold your hand Vortex." He replied using the tone he'd adopted when he was hiding his temper from her.

"And why would you think I'd want you, to hold my hand? In fact all day long, you've been making assumptions, decisions, partnerships for me. Don't you think I deserve to know what exactly your game here is Jimmy?"

Ouch.

"Cindy—I'm sorry if my actions today in anyway were out of line. I just assumed since you were here, you… approved".

She had the decency to looked shock for a moment but returned her normal fierceness with gusto.

She sat crisscross across the futon cushion digging into her backpack for her novel. She'd slipped her long blonde hair back into a low pony when they were arguing. It swung in front of her face and he caught the scent of jasmine once again. The light from one of his generators, was bathing the room in a soft glow, and maybe it was because of this and many other reasons that he blurted out:

"I'm worried about you."

She stopped, turning with her books in her lap she stared at him.

"Why, on earth would you be worried about me?"

"Cut the bull shit, you know why."

Well holy shit he thought, he wasn't entirely sure where that had come from, but he knew with absolute certainty he meant it. Whatever game Cindy thought he was playing—he didn't want to play it.

When she didn't answer he continued; "you've been different lately."

Her eyes cut across him and in his younger days he'd have flinched away from such a "Vortex" glare but now, he didn't back down.

"Quieter."

"Aren't we always telling each other to shut up?" She snapped, now toying with the spine on her notebook.

"Be serious please." He leaned forward slightly, to reach out and perhaps touch her but stopped himself. She hadn't been receptive before, and while something was clearly bothering her he hadn't a clue where to start.

"Who said I wasn't serious?"

"Then will you answer a question for me?" He asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Are you going to ask it anyway?" She asked back but he noted her tone had far less venom.

"Not if you really don't want me too."

She sighed. Without looking at him, she shrugged and then braced herself as if she was expecting a verbal lashing rather than a simple question.

"That. That right there." He pointed at her now.

"What?" She turned fully towards him now, trying to unfold herself from the accordion knot she'd transformed into.

As he watched her, he felt his heart clench. There was no big realization. He'd always known why he'd been "studying" her these past few weeks. He'd kept it hidden deep down, somewhere near where he'd thrown the box and the key that housed all of his "Cindy feelings." And watching her right now, he didn't care if she ever knew how he felt. All he wanted to do was help her, his friend who seemed to be struggling with a weight that she didn't need to carry. Before he could stop himself the speech he hadn't meant to give, came rushing out.

"Your behavior lately, it's been downright odd. You practically cower in the hallway; you hide in the lunchroom. You don't raise your hand in classes anymore. Any of them! You've been wasting your time on things like the dance committee when we both know you hate all of that…nonsense! "He stopped to take a breath and glance at her from the corner of his eye.

He had her full attention. Her mouth was slightly open, her brilliant jade eyes were light for the first time in ages, and he continued.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Betty Quinlan."

At that she visibly flinched. And anger that Jimmy didn't know he felt, or had bubbled to the surface. But before he could get anything else out, she interrupted him, sounding more like Cindy than in a very long time. "Wasn't there supposed to be a question somewhere in there genius?"

"Yes." He said, looking at her. Taking a deep breath he asked.

"What's going on Cindy?"