Title: (Un)Predictable

Author: Claddagh Ring

Disclaimer: I do not own Instant Star because if I did, this season wouldn't be nearly as good or as depressing as it is… I still love it!

Spoilers: Minor spoilers for "18: part one"

Pairing: Tommy/Jude; fluff

Synopsis: Strawberries, a song, kisses; perfect. Dad? Not so much. The night can't end like this. (A missing scene from "18: part one". Takes place after Stuart has his little talks with Tommy and Jude. One-Shot.)

POV: Jude

AN: Okay, who else is going to bawl like a baby for the next few weeks on Instant Star? Yes, I see your hand… I decided that since this season's previews look so depressing, Jommy fans needs a good bit of fluff before the drama gets down to business… enjoy! Or don't enjoy? Let me know!

Reviews: are love! And cookies… yes, definitely cookies.

As my untied shoelaces slap their way up the stairs, I make a mental note to later say a prayer of thanks to whatever God may be listening that Sadie's out with Kwest tonight, and for giving me a few extra hours to live. I'll definitely be hiding out under the covers tonight.

TELL SADIE? God, that's the scariest part about this whole mess; telling Sadie that I'm dating her ex-boyfriend. The same ex that broke her heart, the same ex that I shoved into a hot-tub on (what I thought was) her behalf, and the same ex that I've been madly, insanely in(love?)fatuated with since before he was her ex!

She's going to kill me! Unless… you know, unless Kwest is enough for her and she's totally over Tommy and she realizes that maybe things are better the way they are right now and… nope, she's still going to murder me. With a needle… a very long, sharp, red-hot needle that she's going to stab into my eyes a thousand times before jamming and twisting it into my brain and ending it for good… okay, I need to stop.

This is so frustrating! Seriously, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to do it? I can't really talk to Dad about it; he's not going to be too sympathetic considering he's the one who ordered I tell the Golden Sister about the evil-ex situation. And I'd talk to Jamie except… well, he basically hates me. And Tommy, that good-for-nothing boyfriend of mine just left me hanging in my own house and bailed on me. It's his uncontrollable urge to kiss me that got us caught in the first place. I don't think I was complaining but, he still could've stuck around long enough to see it through. He probably won't even-

"We've got a big, big mess on our hands tonight…"

… call me.

Never mind.

"I take it back," I practically scream into my cell phone.


"I take every somewhat bad thing I just thought about you back," I explain to the probably very confused man on the other line.

"I'm touched Harrison, really," he voice drips with sarcasm. I can take it. "It's good to know I'm thought of so highly by you."

"I said I took it back Quincy."

"So," he breathes, drawing seconds out of the single syllable. "That wasn't exactly how I planned on ending the evening."

"You mean being lectured by my dad?"


"Well, what'd he have to say to you?"

"Uh," he stammers a little. I hear a little click from his tongue; he's doing that rolling thing he does when he gets nervous or agitated or playful or… actually he does it a lot. "He told me that I had to treat you right and not hurt you and not break your heart and to take care of you… Dad stuff."

"You got off easy Quincy."

"Easy? You call that easy?"

"Yes, at least compared to what he said to me."

"Why? What'd you get from him?"

"Me?" I pause, wondering if he even realizes that telling everyone about us also means telling Sadie about us. Then again, he is a guy so he might actually be that clueless. "I get to tell Sadie about us. You know Sadie right? Your ex, my sister?"

"Well, you already knew she'd have to find out," he says. That answers my questions; he knew. "She'd probably want to hear it from you rather than reading it on the front page of a magazine."

"Or worse, page six of the tabloids."

"Yeah, that's not fun either."

"Personal experience?"

"Sadly, yes." His acknowledgement is followed by a close-to-awkward moment, before he changes the subject. "So, will I be able to see you tomorrow?"

"You see me every day."

"I mean, am I going to see you?"

"Depends," I say, baiting him. "What do you want?"

"To give you your birthday kiss," Tommy whispered, his voice suddenly taking on the texture of velvet. I've heard this voice before, but never like this. It's embarrassing, but it makes me weak. He continues. "We kind of got interrupted earlier. It could've been good, for both of us."

I refuse refuse to let him know how badly he's getting to me.

"I don't know Tommy," I say as casually as I can manage. "You know how crazy G Major gets when there's an event. Dress fitting, rehearsals… my schedule could end up being pretty full."

"You can't pencil me in?"

"I don't know. I'll have to see."

"I guess I'll just have to see you at the party then," he says, his shrug audible in his voice, which slightly infuriates me. "Or…"


"Or what?" I ask eagerly, tired of this game we somehow ended up playing.

"I could come see you tonight."

"Right," I laugh bitterly. "Because after my dad gave you the third degree and you bolted, you're going to come all the way back here in your not-so-stealthy car just to see me again, risking further possible exposure to the aforementioned parental unit."

" 'Aforementioned parental' – who talks like that?" Tommy laughs.

"Jamie," I explain. "Sometimes I tend to slip into his geek speak."

"Ah," Tommy says, clearly not that interested in Jamie's speech patterns at the moment. "Anyway, who said I ever left your place?"


"You know, you look pretty sexy in your pajamas."

"You're not-!" I hiss into the phone.

I hear a slight tap on the window. I can help but roll my eyes and smile when I slide back the thin white curtains to see Tommy sitting on my windowsill, one leg braced against the frame and the other hanging off into oblivion. I open the window, noticing how typically chick-flick the whole scene is. Except I don't think any of the guys in the movies ever looked as cocky and… incredibly sweet as Tommy does right now.

He snaps he phone shut before he leans against the window pane, half-in and half-out of my room.

"Hey girl."

"Hey Quincy."

I want to pretend to be angry with him, but then he smiles that crooked half-smile that kills my defiance. I've always always fallen for that stupid (sexy) smile, and now, combined with the complete joy that comes with seeing my boyfriend at my window in all his teen-movie glory… God, I'm hopeless.

"Hey Tommy."

I breathe. Finally.

"So I realize this is kind of cheesy, but after the night we've had, it seemed an appropriate finish," Tommy explained, almost a little sheepish. I'm not really sure.

"You think so?" I smile, letting him know I'm joking; letting him know that I love it.

"I won't stay long."

"You don't have to go so soon though."

"Yes I do," he nods while keeping his eyes magnetically attached to mine. "My 'not-so-stealthy' car, remember? Besides, I don't want to get you in any more trouble."

I feel like such a stupid little girl; I can't think of anything to say. All I can do is smile and move closer to him, closing the (too big) gap between us. I breathe in the night air and run my fingers through his hair, still amazed that he lets me do that.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?"

"I only believe it when you tell me."

"You're beautiful," he repeats, breathlessly. Do I do that to him, make him breathless? God knows he does it to me.

"You're not too shabby yourself," I reply. My voice isn't working right; it won't go louder than a whisper. There's a long moment. It's making me spin, being here with Tommy like this. We stare. We smile. I hear music in my head; a melody with a few lyrics…

"Stop kidding around and kiss me."

Then it all disappears.

It's electric. Every time we kiss, every time his lips brush mine, it sends wildfires throughout my body, setting fire to my lips, my gut, my heart, my soul. His hands sear into my skin, leaving the suddenly cold air to chill the flames racing up and down my spine. Our heat gathers in his fingertips where they rest in the small of my back.

He's not close enough, I decide and press my body to his, matching my curves to his perfect shape, cursing the windowsill that still separates us. I can tell he's holding himself back. He's going slowly for my sake. I hate it. I want him. But in the same instant, the pace, it's perfect. The longer we hold on, the slower we go, the higher and hotter that fire builds. And fire eventually burns everything.

Like right now, it's burning my lungs.

We both pull away at the same time, neither of us going any further than absolutely necessary, until he drops his head and rests his forehead on my shoulder. I can feel him through my The Clash t-shirt, see his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes, every breath tickling my neck. He could stay like this forever and I wouldn't care.

I feel his hand tighten on my shoulder and I know the moment is slipping, slipping… gone. It had to end, we both knew it. But oh God, does it have to end so soon?

"12:05," he chuckles, his laugh sending warm waves of delight through me. "Happy birthday, girl."

"You know, I think this might actually turn out to be a very good day."

He smile, kisses me on the forehead, squeezes my hand one last time, and leaves out the window. Just like that, he's gone; too soon. I watch his (surprisingly quiet) car leave and at 12:07, I already can't wait to see him again… he's my favorite guilty secret.

We've Got A Big Mess On Our Hands
The Academy Is…

SANTI, 2007

It seemed appropriate with what's going on, in both the fic and the show… I don't know if Jude would ever ringtone The Academy Is… but I do… so… yeah…

I write, you read, you review, I write more… but not for this fanfic. This is a one-shot… I think.

AN2: The song that doubles as Jude's ring tone is: