so sunday evening i log on to my e-mail and am greeted by this:


Title: "Vice Versa" Summary: ""She used to see her reflection in his eyes all the time, even when he wasn't looking at her... Now she has trouble finding it when they're standing face to face." a/n: yes, it's been awhile *gasp* a boomer/bubbles fic where they AREN'T established?!" Rating: "G"

Main reason for removal: "Rating: explicit content or adult content above current rating"

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now isn't that just lovely? apparently i let some words like "hell" and possibly a "damn" slip by in my author's notes, and as much as i can understand's concerns, i was still a little skeeved. kids can make their own damn decisions, can't they? not to mention they are completely undeterred by ratings--if they wanna read an r-rated fic, nothing's stopping them from reading the r-rated fic.

i'd bitch more about this but i wrote an long 9 page paper on censorship for my rhetoric class, and i'm just about done mouthing off on the issue.

dirty word count this author's notes: 3 different, 4 uses. and in case hell freezes over (now 3 different, 5 uses) and i violate another policy, then i'll probably say fekkit and rate all my damn stories pg-13 just to keep things simple (3 different, 6 uses, 1 implied).

original a/n mentioned something along these lines: -blue couplings are rarely done in a non-boring manner -"skirt" is undergoing severe block at the moment -this side story supposed to unblock block -does not follow blue characterization set up in "skirt" -prologue to another chapter (hopefully only one)

enough of me and my bitching (3 different, 7 uses, 1 implied). read the-- oh, the hell with it--damned thing already (3 different, 9 uses, 1 implied).

rated pg-13 b/c i cuss too damn much for my own damn good (3 different, 11 uses, 1 implied). actual story rated g, but in case thinks kids are too stupid to get it, then i guess we'll go with pg.

/end long bitchy (body count's up to 12 now) rant of grrrr

p.s. sorry to those of you who reviewed, i lost your reviews, but drop a line again just to let me know you read it and you will receive much jen liking ^^

Vice Versa ~-songbirdjen-~

"How does IHOP sound?" he asked, and Bubbles blinked, eyes lifting in surprise.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You know," Boomer elucidated, shrugging his backpack onto his shoulders and hooking his hands in the straps, "for breakfast." I've got an hour before my last exam, Comp. Sci., and I hear it's a cinch, so I think I'm in good shape. Well, I hope I'm in good shape. Speaking of exams, how'd you do on Government?"

"I've had enough of exam talk for the past two weeks, Boomer," Bubbles sighed, cringing. "I've barely been out of that room for five minutes and already you're asking me to relive the wretched experience?"

He parted his lips in a smile, and Bubbles looked away. "Fine then. You want breakfast or not?"

"I already ate."

"So have I, but you don't see that stopping me."

She turned back to him, a dry look in her eyes. "Oh, right. The limits of the human stomach don't apply to you."

"Ah-ah-ah!" He leaned in and tilted his head. "SUPER human stomach. Come on, I'm starved."

His hand brushed her wrist and tugged her out the school's main entrance, and she had to swallow to keep herself from pulling away.


She didn't order anything, but at Boomer's persistent urging dutifully nibbled at the butter-drenched toast that had accompanied the plethora of breakfast foods he had requested of the menu. She kept one hand in her lap and stared down at it while she ate, glancing up every now and then to trace the line of sunlight that played on the crown of his head with her eyes. He asked her in between forkfuls what she'd signed up for next year, and grinned excitedly at the prospect of starting their final year of high school. She grinned back and felt her stomach lurch when he said they should do lunch more often next semester because he'd barely seen her this year.

She would've liked to have smiled back and said she would love to go out to lunch with him, but only fought a blush and mumbled an assent.

When he pushed the plates away and slid his notes out of his backpack to go over the vocab one last time she traced letters in the perspiration of his water glass and remembered a little boy who once told a little girl that he loved her.

The waiter came to take the glass away and by that time she had gotten to the part of the memory where the little girl told the little boy that little girls and boys like them didn't fall in love. She remembered saying she loved him too, but as a friend, and besides, other kids were already saying all sorts of things about them because they hung out together all the time. . .

Boomer lifted his head to ask her what time it was, and as she looked at her watch and told him she thought of how sad his face had looked back then, and how cheerful it looked right now.

His eyes widened at the numbers she muttered and he began to shove the papers back into their folder, and she remembered quiet, awkward evenings afterwards, and how he didn't smile for a long time when they played together after that.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and yanked his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, and she remembered missing him for ages when he went away for the summer and not knowing why she had wanted so much for him to come back.

He held the door open for her as they left the restaurant and smiled at her, and she turned away because it reminded her of the smile he had returned with in the autumn and how disappointed she had been when she realized he hadn't missed her at all.

He shielded his eyes against the sun and estimated the distance back to the school and she looked up at him, thinking back to when they used to be as tall as each other and always saw things eye to eye.

He could feel her eyes on him and so he turned to look back, his blue eyes twinkling behind the golden bangs, and she swallowed, thinking bitterly to herself that it would work out that way, wouldn't it--it makes perfect sense that she should fall in love with him the precise moment he falls out of love with her.


"Feelin' alright, Bubbles?" he inquired, cocking his head to the side and bending down a bit to speak at eye level. "Man, that test must've really drained you."

She cracked a smile and searched his eyes for anything that might give him away, the way they used to back all those years ago when he would sit next to her and blush, trying to avoid looking at her too long or else she would tell him to cut it out--it wasn't healthy for him to do that and hurt himself.

She used to see her reflection in his eyes all the time, even when he wasn't looking at her...

Now she has trouble finding it when they're standing face to face.

His eyes tell her nothing except that he's happy, and out of love with her, but she tries not to think about that.

She shrugged and flipped her head to the side a little. "Yeah, I think I'll have to go home and rest up a little if I wanna go to Kim's party tonight." Her stomach twisted as she said it.

"Yeah, you do that," he affirmed, and cuffed her chin. "I'll see you there, then. Hope you get enough rest." He stood up, winked at her, and smiled as he stepped back.

"Um, hey--good luck on your final and everything," she said with a dry mouth, and swallowed to try and moisten it.

"Oh, yeah, thanks. I'll ace it, just for you." He winked again, and she wished he wouldn't say those sort of things or look at her like that because it really hurt.

She swallowed. "S-say, Boomer. . ."

He halted in his steps, raising his eyes in an innocent sense of curiosity. "Yeah, Bubbles?"

A false sort of hope surged through her lungs. "I. . . well, I was wondering if you'd want to go to Kim's party. . . um, WITH me."

Boomer blinked a few times, visibly surprised. He opened his mouth and closed it, and looked to the ground before looking back at her. "Well, sure, if you wanted to. . . it's just that I kinda promised Whitney I'd escort her. Tonight, I mean." He smiled apologetically.

Her ribs felt tight as she tried to fill her lungs with air. "Oh. . . okay."

"You know you could come with us if you wanted, it's not like--"

"No, that's fine, I was just. . . you know. Wondering."

He gazed at her a moment longer and shrugged, almost nonchalantly. "Well, whatever's fine with you. You can give me a ring if you change your mind or just need a ride or something, ok? I'm sure Whitney would understand."

She was too busy reprimanding herself for not thinking about other girls. Of course there would be other girls, just like there would be other boys. There WERE other boys. Plenty of them. Just as many other boys going after her as there were other girls going after him. She shouldn't have felt so disappointed.

Really, she shouldn't have.

"Sure, whatever. Good luck on Comp. Sci."

"Sure thing. In the bag." He laughed and said goodbye and took off.

She went home and stared at pictures, finding it odd that when she set photos of Boomer and she from years ago next to photos taken last week, the look in his eyes back then matched the look in her eyes now. And vice versa.

Back then she hadn't cared. Back then he had.

And now. . . vice versa.

She figured there was some sort of name for this, like karma, or something, some other nice word like that, because "serves you right" hurt too much to say to herself.