A/N: Just another What-happened-after-detention fic centered around John and Claire. The other BC members will get involved later, but probably not until chapter 5 or 6. Please review and let me know what you think! All reviews are appreciated!

Take care!

Romen~~

Chapter 1 – The Princess and the Pauper

Claire didn't know why she was there. She almost regretted it, but not completely, since it meant that she might be able to see him.

It all started when she'd had to take a detour on the way home. Damn road construction. The detour went through a rough part of town, or at least rougher than she was used to. At a stop sign, she rolled up her windows and locked her door. A man with a bottle wrapped up in a brown paper bag walked right past her car and stared at her. She looked away.

There were a lot of narrow streets without any signs. As more suspicious characters started to fill the sidewalks, Claire couldn't help but panic. She thought she was getting close to downtown but she couldn't be sure. And there were so many stop signs! She felt like a sitting duck on a conveyer belt as she waited behind the traffic until she finally reached the sign. It would have been so great if someone had invented a phone that you could carry around with you, because she would have called her dad.

Okay, from the look of the buildings she had reached downtown. They were stunted skyscrapers, wanna-be moderns. But she'd obviously never been in this section of the district before; she'd never seen anything covered with so much graffiti in her life. She reached another four-way stop and was about to pull through when it happened.

A tall, broad-shouldered guy stepped out in front of Claire. She slammed on her breaks and cursed. Then her heart froze. He glanced at her for a split second and gave her the finger, shaking out his shaggy brown hair. He was with a group of what appeared to be his friends; they began to follow him across the road. There was a lot of denim and leather, chains, and even a couple mohawks, one which was neon green. He suddenly stopped and turned, staring at her like he'd seen the living dead.

It was John Bender.

Claire wasn't sure whether she should wave, or pretend she didn't recognize him. She just stared right back, her mind a blank.

One of Bender's friends said something to him, and he turned slowly and nodded, following them across the street. He never looked back.

Claire felt her eyes sting. What a prick. No wonder she'd ignored John Bender for the last month.

Ohhh! It dawned on her. She'd ignored John Bender for the last month!

The car behind her honked. Claire shot forward and made a left turn. She parked on the side of the road. She needed to think.

She didn't have many classes with Bender, just chemistry. It was her first hour and she hadn't even known he was taking that course. He just showed up on the Monday after detention, walked into the room without looking at her, which was good, since her jaw was dropped unattractively.

"I thought you dropped this class," Mr. Grearson, the teacher, had remarked in awe.

"I picked it back up," Bender replied smoothly.

"I can't believe he's in this class!" her friend Monica hissed rather loudly, once Bender had taken a seat directly behind them. "I have math with him too. Does God hate me or something?"

"I don't know," Claire murmured uneasily. She felt jittery. She kept thinking of how he tasted like a mixture of nicotine and something musty and secret. And those same lips were so close to her now.

"Ugh, I think I can smell him." Monica covered her nose. "Don't you smell that? Disgusting."

She gave Bender a look of distaste before leaning closer to Claire.

"I hope I don't have to be his lab partner. That would suck, majorly."

Claire gulped, sensing that Monica expected a response. "It's not nice to talk about people," she said at last, realizing how stupid and juvenile that sounded. But she wanted to remain neutral, and she wanted this conversation to end, and she wanted to be back in the closet kissing John Bender.

"You're not stick up for him, are you Claire?" Stacie asked incredulously. "Don't you know who that is? That's John Bender. Don't you realize how much of a loser he is?"

It wasn't just Stacie who was asking her anymore. It was Tanya, Kate, Heather, Lisa, Shelby, Marie, Joanne, and the entire student body. She squirmed in her seat, like a light had been shone on her face in an interrogation room.

"Of course I do," she snapped at last. "What do you think I am, some kind of freak? I'm just saying you shouldn't waste your breath on him."

And then she laid her head down on her desk and bit her lip to hold back the tears.

Bender never showed up for chemistry again.

She would see him around school every so often, and quickly look in the other direction. It wasn't because she disliked him, but she knew he'd heard what she said in chem that day. She'd betrayed him, and everyone who had been in detention with her. When she looked at him, she felt sick with herself.

Claire tapped the dashboard with a manicured finger. She could see Bender, slowly receding as he walked down the street. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears, and she wouldn't let herself ruin him with her self-pity. She started to pull out when her car stuttered and groaned.

And then it was dead silence.

Claire took the key out of the ignition, put it back in, turned it. Nothing. Not at sound. She repeated the process frantically until it was too apparent that her car had died. She laid her head on the steering wheel with a groan. Stuck in a seedy part of town, when it was starting to get dark…She hated her life.

Behind her closed eyelids, she saw John Bender's roguish smile, his burning brown eyes betraying his sarcasm.

And that's when she saw a gift in this situation, a chance to fix everything she'd screwed up for the last month. She leapt from the car and began to hurry down the street, her eyes fixed on Bender's crowd like they were tied to him.

They turned into a rundown building up ahead. As she drew nearer, she could make out the sign in the violet evening glow; "Ferguson's." Ooookay. She hesitated before pulling open the door and stepping through.

It took her a while to make anything out of the haze of smoke, but she soon discovered it was a pool hall, and a fairly popular one at that. The bar was filled and all of the pool tables were taken. A girl with a nose ring stared at her, and others quickly followed suit. Claire stuck out like a sore thumb. She began to walk forward, trying to ignore the attention she was attracting.

It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for. Bender was at the farthest table with his friends, holding a pool stick and staring out the window, distracted.

The guy with the neon green mohawk nudged him in the side. "Hey, didn't you hear me, man? Your turn."

"Huh? Oh." Bender leaned forward, shooting impulsively and missing terribly. "Shit."

"You sure you're all right?" his friend asked again.

"Yeah, it's this music. Fucking Bon Jovi. I'm gonna go change it." Bender handed his stick to someone else and swaggered off to the juke box in the corner.

Claire took a deep breath, and began to walk toward him.

Bender was flipping through the selections aimlessly. The glaze in his eyes told her that he wasn't thinking about the music.

"Hey."

His head snapped in her direction. "You lost?" he said after a few dumbfounded seconds.

She blushed, remembering the last time she'd heard him say those words. "Sort of," she admitted.

They stood in an awkward silence. He resumed browsing through the music, his shoulders unnaturally stiff.

"So, um, do you come here often?" she asked at last, realizing how clichéd that sounded. She might as well have asked him about the weather.

"What do you want, Claire." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

"I just want to talk to you," she said quietly.

"That's odd. Because I thought wasn't worth wasting your breath on." He annunciated each word clearly, refusing to face her.

"I didn't mean that…"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. Monica was just putting so much pressure on me, and –"

"And poor little Claire can't take a little pressure. Don't spin your sob stories to me; I don't want to hear them."

"I'm sorry I said it." There was a lump blocking her throat; she fought against it. "I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch this year, ignoring you…It's just that I feel so rotten."

"And you want me to make you feel better, is that it?"

"No! I mean, well, yes, but not like that –"

"So you want to turn over a new leaf."

"Yes."

"You're saying, that if your friends walked through that door, and saw you here talking to me, you'd tell them to suck it?"

"Yes." It was firmer than her last response. She knew it was true.

"Why?" He finally looked up at her again, his face too composed. His eyes had a beseeching, searching look, and she felt herself falling into them.

"John" – he squinted when she said his name – "you should know."

He was about to say something when his friend in the mohawk appeared.

"Your turn again, Bender. Well lookie what we got here! Princess at the pool hall."

Another friend appeared. He had greasy, ash blond hair and a busty brunette on his arm. "Nice skirt, Princess. You just come from tennis practice?"

Claire blushed. In fact, she had.

"Leave her alone guys," Bender mumbled, turning toward them without making eye contact.

The girl laughed; her voice was hard, like rocks tumbling over a cliff. "Whoa, defensive, Bender! You got a thing for the princess?"

"What are you even doin' here?" Mohawk glared at her. "The country club closed today?"

Someone else came up behind her and gave her skirt a tug. She whirled around. "Don't touch me!"

"Hear that? Too pristine to be touched."

"Probably ain't never been touched."

"You a cherry, Cherry?"

"Real cute, guys," Bender said over the uproar. "Now leave her alone."

"That's twice you stuck up for the Richie," Mohawk muttered, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You didn't invite her here, did you?"

"No –"

"He's sure acting like he would have wanted to." The brunette's eyes gleamed. "You screwing Red, Bender?"

"Maybe he just wants to."

Bender's jaw was clenched. He was focusing on a spot on the wall, wound and ready to snap.

"The Princess and the Pauper. Isn't it cute?"

"Come on, tell me you aren't digging Ginger here. I don't know if she's open for plowing."

Bender sprung. "Of course not! You think I'd touch that spoiled shit?"

Then they all laughed peals of relaxation and assurance – everyone except Bender, who was staring down at his combat boots and looked like he was about to be sick. He flicked his hair, avoiding Claire's gaze. That's when she saw the gleam in his ear.

Her arm flashed out like lightning; the smack rang out like thunder. "You fucking hypocrite!" she roared, and then spun on her heel, the sound of Bender's amused friends ringing in her ears.

She marched up to the bar tender, holding back the well of tears that was threatening to break lose. "Can I use your phone?"

He snorted. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Last time somebody used my phone they took off with some valuables. You're outta luck, Princess."

"Please, my car is broken down, I don't know anybody here…"

"Good luck with that."

"Can you at least tell me where I can find a pay phone?" she asked, her voice holding a tinge of nervous desperation.

He smiled sardonically. "Not one that works."

She stared at him in amazement before storming out of the pool hall. Once she was outside, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. She couldn't afford to panic.

She could try going in to other businesses and asking to use their phone. The brunette's sneer flashed across her mind. No, she couldn't go through that again. Well, she could walk around looking for a pay phone. No, it was getting too dark. The sky was a deep shade of navy blue; pretty soon it would be night. She decided to find a bus stop and talk to the bus driver. She had enough money to get home if she could just get some direction. She had never taken a bus before.

She started down the sidewalk with feigned determination. She pulled her jacket tighter; it was promising to be a cold night.

The streets weren't as bustling as they had been before. They were now oddly deserted. She passed what looked like a homeless man sitting on a bench. He had scraggly gray hair and his face looked like it was made of dried out play-dough.

"Got any spare change?" he croaked.

"No." She hurried on, her heart pounding and feeling guilty; she had ten bucks in quarters alone.

It seemed like she'd been walking for hours. She hadn't come across any bus stops. At least, she didn't think she had. It was getting darker and the street wasn't very well lit.

She heard the roar of an engine behind her. It grew quieter, crawling beside her. She tried not to look at the car that was obviously following her. She glanced at the building ahead; it was a bank, and it was closed.

"Need a ride?" a male voice called.

Don't look, just keep walking. She quickened her pace.

"You deaf, sweets? Want a ride?"

There was a cat call. Then the sound of a door opening. Oh shit. Claire turned to look behind her. Two guys she'd never seen before were staring straight at her.

"Leave me alone," she said in what she thought was a confident voice. When she'd taken a self-defense class, they'd told her confidence was key to ditching a predator. Also that you should smash the person's nose into their head.

"Aw, don't be that way, sweets." They were closing in on her; the taller one grinned cockily. "I just wanna talk."

They were backing her into the front of the bank's entrance. Damn, they were fast. As they approached her, she prepared to knee the short one in the balls.

"Hey, she's with me."

Claire thought maybe this was some sort of twisted nightmare, because that voice sounded a lot like Bender's, and Bender couldn't possibly be here. The two men turned around as Bender emerged from the darkness, his face unreadable.

"My apologies. We were just having a little fun."

"Go have your fun somewhere else," he said stiffly.

"You threatening me?"

Bender stepped up to him, an inch from his face. He was the same height as the other man, but much broader, and much more pissed. "I'll do more than that if I have to," he said gravely.

The other guy laughed. Then he pushed Bender's shoulder patronizingly, almost in disbelief.

Bender sprung on him like a lion. There was so much punching and shoving Claire had a hard time telling what was going on. She felt frozen. She watched as the short one jumped in, and somehow Bender was pinned on the wall and the tall one hit him in the stomach and she heard the steely flick of a knife.

The sound startled her into action. She lunged forward at the short one, kneed him where it hurts and started pounding him with her balled fists. Someone held her back, and she fought against them, watching as the two men backed away and ran off down the street.

"Claire. Claire!"

Bender's voice broke through and she grew still, her chest heaving. Then her knees grew limp and she felt herself falling backward, leaning against him.

"Whoa, Claire." He helped her to the ground and knelt beside her. "Claire, you okay? Claire?"

"Y-yes."

His face was outlined with cold fury. "Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"Good," he said through clenched teeth. Then he closed his knife and she felt a wave of relief; it had been his.

"How did you get here in time?" she asked, feeling stronger.

He hesitated, something she wasn't used to seeing him do. "You really wanna know?"

She nodded.

"I followed you."

This should have been something that bothered her; instead, her chest felt warm and tingly. "Why?" she asked.

"I heard what you said…about your car being broken down. Girls like you don't walk alone in neighborhoods like this, Claire." He ran a hand through his hair and laughed uneasily. "Now I'm a stalker on top of being a pig."

"No...Thank you."

He stood and helped her up. "You okay to walk?"

"Yeah." She paused. "Where are your friends?"

He grinned. "Told 'em to suck it. You gotta go home…right now?"

Oh please let him ask her! Please please please! "No," she said as casually as she could, "I guess not."

"Me either." He swallowed. "You wanna go get something to eat?"

"Definitely."

Bender's face held more relief than he would have liked it to.

TBC