Penny Heads, an Austin and Ally one-shot

I do not own Austin and Ally. Just clearing my prompts list. Enjoy and leave a review!

There are some moments in life when he can not restrain himself from doing something.

For starters, that day he asked her out.

"Ooh, look, a penny!" she exclaimed, bending down to retrieve it. "And it's heads up."

She stretched up, backing into Austin.

Of all places, why did she have to hit there?

Please say that groan of pleasure was not out loud.


"You feeling lucky?"

He spun her around. Again they collided, this time on purpose.

The coin fell to the ground.

Hearing it hit the pavement, she pulled away. "You made me drop my penny."

Well, it had been better than her chastising him for the stolen kiss.

He watched as she picked it up a second time.

Could he make her do it a third?

He tested his theory.

No, he couldn't make her do it a third time. That was fine.

She left that penny on the ground, face down.

"It's bad luck," she claimed.

Personally, he still thinks it's because she wanted to keep kissing him.

He didn't waste the time arguing.

(the page breaks here)

They were sharing a table outside of the ice cream shop. She had a strawberry cone. One that had dotted her nose in pink.

"Did you just lick my nose?"

"It had ice cream on it," he defended himself, swiping his tongue against his chocolate cone.

Was she going to question that too?

She set her free hand atop his. "There are children around."

It wasn't that big of a deal. It's not like they had split a cone, his original idea.

Apparently children don't have access to basic cable anymore. They can't be marring their impressionable minds with these nuances of life.

Glancing down, he noticed that her cone had smeared across the front of his shirt. Would it be so vulgar to take it off to avoid becoming an even stickier mess?

It wasn't like he asked her to lick him clean.

Though that wouldn't have been an entirely terrible idea.

"Maybe next time we should get bowls."

Maybe next time he could keep his fantasies to himself.

Better to take this one step at a time here.

(the page breaks here)

When you know somebody long enough, you start to become privy to certain things.

Like how they have ticklish feet.

Like how they don't want you to tickle said feet.

But when they dangle off the edge of the couch, they're just asking for it.

"Stop, stop!" she cried as his fingers ran amok.

"What's the magic word?" he teased. She had used the line on him earlier that week.

Therefore, her answer should have been right. "Please."

His fingers disobeyed the command. Crawling up her calves, they made their way to the back of her thighs.

The bottom of her shorts should have been a bumper.

He snuck a finger in. Then a second, followed by a knock on the door.

"That's probably Dez."

"He finally learned to knock?"

"Well, after last time..."

He could have drifted off into the memory. However, he had two alternatives: embrace the girl beneath him, or answer the door, because the knocking was getting louder and more insistent.

They'd pick this up later.

(the page breaks here)

With his shoelace frayed, he attempted to thread it through his sneaker.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"Can you?" He propped his foot on the couch for her.

Struggling over her round belly, she got the string through the hole.

He admired her handy work, kissing her. "Thank you Ally. You too Squirt."

Her hands fell to her hips.

Or rather, where he hips would have been.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to call the baby Squirt anymore."

"I can't name Squ- er, it, him, her – see, this is why I call," he motioned to her stomach, because he couldn't find the right word, "Squirt. Until you find out the gender anyhow."

She tied his shoe, taking his hand. They got up.

"Then let's go find out," she said. He grabbed his keys.

It didn't matter if it was going to be a boy or girl.

He was still going to call that kid Squirt.

(the page breaks here)

He wasn't the only one to get in trouble. You could say it ran in the family.

"Don't touch that cake."

It reminded him of all those times she had told him not to touch her book. Except now their son had fallen victim.

The frosting dangled from the tip of his finger.

Into his mouth it went.

"Squirt, you may want to run," he advised.

"That was supposed to be for the party tonight." Her father's sixtieth birthday, complete with balloons that he had spent the morning blowing up.

Ones that he inhaled the helium from, because who wouldn't want their voice all high and squeaky?

She had been angry with him.

But like the helium, there was one thing she couldn't resist either.

It's amazing how 'I love you' always sounds sincere.

(the page breaks here)

Filling the gas tank, he listened to Ally through the window.

"Are you sure they'll be okay, all alone?" It was the first time they've let him have his girlfriend stay the night while they're away.

The first time they knew about, that is.

He set the nozzle back in its holder. "They'll be fine. Squirt knows what to do if something goes wrong."

"Can you really call him Squirt anymore? He's taller than you."

"Of course." He got into the driver's seat. "Look, don't worry. Trish is right down the street if they need anything."

He would have kissed her, for extra reassurance, and his own pleasure, but the car behind them honked. Some people could be so impatient.

Pulling away, he paused at the exit. One quick kiss couldn't hurt.

As long as he kept his foot on the brake.

(the page breaks here)

For their twentieth anniversary, they decided to go on vacation.

That quite possibly could have been a terrible mistake.

They were lying in bed, covered solely by the sheets when he opted to get up to get a drink. "I'll be right back, I promise."


Even if the earth was quaking, he was not going to break his promise.

He deserted his water glass, inching toward the stairs.

"Ally?" he called over the sound of the mantle pieces shifting.

The cherub fell.

He'd spent all of the prior night asking that cherub to look away, because there were things he wanted to do on that couch, without the watchful eye of a baby angel, but he would have never wished it broken.

What he would give to have her in his arms again.

"Find somewhere safe. I don't want you hurt," she yelled from the bed.

If anything was going to get that bed rocking, he thought it would have been him.

Never did he think that he'd be crouched under a table in her pink robe, because his had mysteriously disappeared.

It smelled like her.

That was enough to get him through the storm.

(the page breaks here)

His tear drop smears the ink on his notepad.

"You okay, dad?" Squirt takes the seat next to him.

"It's just really hard to write a eulogy. Your mother always was better with words." He wipes his eyes.

New tears replace the departed.

Some people lose their memory. They can't recall the moments shared, the days they laughed until they cried.

He's one of the lucky. He grew old with the woman he loved. He remembers these things like they all happened yesterday.

But it wasn't yesterday.

Yesterday was that final I love you.

He spots something on the floor, and bends down to scoop it up.

It's a penny, heads up.

"What's so funny? It's just a penny."

Austin smiles to himself, tucking it away in his pocket. "Did I ever tell you about the day I asked your mother out?"

Everything is going to be okay.