A/N: This randomly came to me the way most of my oneshots do: I had missed the bus coming from college and was stuck waiting for an hour with nothing to do.

Crit is love, of course. ^^

Also, much thanks to Ice for looking it over and helping me out in general.

And Thesa for letting me borrow a bit from her own epic experiences.

And Haley for the title. :)


It happened when they were in detention.

Detention at John Handcock High School meant a classroom in the back of the least used building- the one that held all the art classes and pottery kilns. Under heated, coated in years of dust and cobwebs and virtually no heating or air conditioning.

The woman who watched over the detainees was no better.

Mrs. Erna Patterson had to be at least one hundred (well, okay maybe sixty) years old as far as Leonard was concerned. She spent her time drinking stale coffee and reading tacky romance novels. On this particular March afternoon she was MIA but Leonard sure as hell wasn't complaining.

The problem was Allie.

They were the only two in detention that day- not that he was particularly surprised that she had ended up here considering her temper. How he ended up in said classroom was a completely different story; it had absolutely nothing to do with getting caught stoned out of his mind in the equipment shed behind the football field.

Nothing at all.

He hoped he didn't reek of pot anymore but if anyone could sniff him out it would be Allie.

"You fucking stink."

"Well you don't exactly smell like roses either. Just a friendly tip: if you're going to fuck the entire football team you should consider taking a shower afterwards." He sneered, hoping that she couldn't see through his lie.

The truth was he loved the way she smelled- sort of like gardenias.

"You're so full of bullshit, Leonard."

She leaned over; purposefully close enough so that he could see a hint of cleavage where her shirt began. And he couldn't help it- his body reacted.

She laughed. "That's what I thought."

"Fuck you," he mumbled, sinking lower into his seat.

"You wish." She blew him a kiss and he tried very hard to concentrate on his Geometry homework.

Pythagorean Theorem. Right.

Pencil scratching against paper. The pink shavings of an eraser.

He didn't realize he was doodling words instead of numbers until he saw a flash of red hair. She was reading over his shoulder. Of course.

"'Allie', huh? Got something you want to share with the class, Leonard?"

Fuck.

Her eyes blazed the way they always did when she sensed a challenge- or when she was speaking to him. That and a knowing smirk on her face, something that drove him absolutely crazy.

Normally, he would have come up with some sort of angry retort. But right now he couldn't think of anything if his life depended on it.

"Can't even look me in the eye. Pussy." She spat out the last word, hands on her hips, and he felt the tips of his ears heat up like they always did when he was embarrassed.

"Shut the fuck up."

He made a point of meeting her leveled gaze but that only made things worse. He had tried to avoiding looking at her if he could- not that he was ever successful. Small glances, subtle ones.

The way she chewed on the end of her pen when she was deep in thought. How she couldn't do Geometric proofs to save her life, erasing so many times she wore a hole through the paper. The pride in her face when she managed to kick everyone's ass in gym. And yeah, he spent a lot of time looking at her boobs.

Judging by the way she was staring at him now he knew he hadn't fooled for her for one minute.

Why the fuck are girls so complicated? I mean Allie-

And then she was kissing him, and all conscious thoughts were out the window.

Leonard has kissed a lot of girls after their first kiss at twelve. Even gone a little bit further than kissing. But now, at sixteen he found himself just as awkward with her as he was at twelve. She took the lead, pulling off her sweater and his jacket- how she managed to do that and still kiss him he had no idea but he sure as hell wasn't going to object.

It was dreamlike, surreal as he watched himself kiss her more deeply, his hands around her waist and slowly moving further up, wondering if he could get away with-

Hell yes.

She pulled away for a second, pulling her shirt over her head and hopping up onto the teacher's desk, scarred with years of coffee stains and graffiti.

He glanced at the door quickly; it was closed but not locked, the lighting in the hallway almost completely extinguished.

Fuck it.

A shirtless girl wanted to make out with him. More than make out and he was thinking about getting caught?

Not just any girl, either- Allie. His Allie.

So he joined her on said desk, quickly losing his shirt. And his pants. And her jeans. He fumbled with the clasp on her bra, and she laughed softly.

"Like this," she said quietly, guiding his hand over the hook and eye.

"Um…"

He could see it in her eyes- lust, and maybe something else. Something just for him, or so he liked to think."Yes?"

"We don't, um…"

A slogan from his health class popped into his mind: 'Don't be a fool; cover your tool'. Even now, remembering it he had the urge to burst into his laughter. He tried his best to squash the feeling though he was sure he looked as though he had swallowed something bitter.

"Oh. I don't think I…" She got up and fiddled with her clothes and bag, both turning up empty.

Shit.

He didn't want to admit that he never kept them on hand, even in his pathetic hopes of getting lucky. Out of desperation he opened the drawers of the desk.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing and- score!

A stack of condoms, intermixed with packets of Splenda and old rubber bands.

Who knew Mrs. Erna Patterson was kinky?

He shook his head trying to rid himself of that mental image. Kissing her once again she got back on the desk, him on top of her.

Just like that, Leonard L. Church was no longer a virgin.


Sex was fucking awesome, he thought dreamily as they moved together. In fact, he was so absorbed in what he was doing he didn't hear the doorknob turn or the click of the cheap lock until it was too late.

"Sweet Jesus!"

Coffee spilled all over the floor and on the lovely (not really) flowered dress of Mrs. Erna Patterson.

And Leonard got the feeling he would spending the rest of his natural born life in detention.