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Tuxedo Arms

By skwirelygurli


Tuxedo Arms

Tuxedo Arms, an Austin and Ally oneshot

I do not own Austin and Ally. This is to fulfill a prompt. Reviews are greatly appreciated!

Hitting the brakes at the sign, her father puts the car in park. Austin unbuckles his seat belt in the backseat.

"You're going to do fine Ally," he remarks, poking his head in between the seats. She's ready for this. She's going to get her license, and then she won't have to go home early because she'll be safe and sound in her car, where nobody is going to jump out and hold her at gun point in the dark.

If she would just leave her toothbrush at his house, there wouldn't be this problem. Then she could stay the night.

Then he could see her with bedhead.

She's adorable with bedhead.

She's adorable without bedhead.

She's just plain adorable.

But there's nothing plain about her.

"You don't know that. I could hit another car, or I could run out of gas, or the engine could stall, or a cat could run out in front of me or-" Her words hit the back of his hand. He waits until she quits struggling to remove it.

"Relax. You're going to do perfect." Mr. Dawson nods in agreement from the driver's seat.

"How do you know?"

"Because you are perfect."

"Austin, that's impossible."

"Well, you're perfect to me." He considers giving her a quick kiss, but her father is still sitting there. That'd be awkward.

He's still tempted to go for it. Two inches forward, one and a half, one. A knock on the window.

Perfect timing. Now he's not going to do anything that he will regret. He wouldn't regret kissing her. More like he'd regret kissing her in front of her dad, finding it to be all too comfortable and then continuing on, making noises that parents shouldn't hear. Nothing too risque, as this is a car in broad daylight, but how much noise does the suction make when sucking on a girl's lip?

He's going to step outside of the car now to collect his thoughts.

Also because the tester asked him to.

He flashes her a smile through the window, giving her the thumbs up. She feebly smiles back.

Adjust the mirror, check for traffic, begin to pull out, realize the car is still in park. Nervously chuckling, she puts the car into drive and checks for traffic again. She can do this.

Getting onto the road, she exhales. Why can't he be here to hold her hand?

Because he's waiting in the grass, to spin her around until she can't see straight when she says that she passed.

Also because she needs both hands on the wheel to drive.

"Turn left at the stop sign."

She may be putting the brakes on the car, but as soon as she's out, it's going to be him and her, full speed ahead. Figuratively speaking. Her dad still needs a ride home.

And she needs to obey the speed limit. She's not going to break any laws.

"Parallel park with the red car."

Time to stop thinking about the future. She needs to worry about the here and now. Here, behind this steering wheel, during her driving test. Love can wait for a few minutes.

But not a second more.


He takes the flashcard and folds into in half.

"Austin, what are you doing?" she shrieks, taking the vocabulary word from his hand. She unbends it, smoothing the crease with the palm of her hand.

"Making a frog family."

"With my flashcards? I need these to study. I need to get a high score so I can get a scholarship and go to a nice school." She cringes at seeing that two of her cards have already transformed during her time in the bathroom. If she misses those words and gets a bad grade, she's going to blame him.

"Ally, you know this stuff. You're going to do fine." His hand lands on top of hers.

"You said that when I took my driving test."

"And you did." He slips the index card away.

"Barely!" Her volume goes higher than she plans, and a few people crane their necks to see what's going on.

Folding down the final piece, he presses on the back end to make it leap. It hits her in the cheek.

Okay, no more vocabulary frogs.


He slides her application essay across the table. Blinking at her a few times, to give his brain the opportunity to process what he's read, he remains silent.

This launches Ally into a minor panic attack.

"Is it that bad? I knew I should have written about something else. Now I have to start over, and it's due in a week, but I've been so busy with the label, and I-"

It's not that she doesn't enjoy his lips on hers, but they're not even dating, and how rude is it to cut a girl off when she's talking?

"You wrote your application essay about me."

She looks down at the paper, because his eyes are drawing her back in. "It said to choose someone who inspired me."

Dragging the chair closer to her, he held her gaze.

And then her hand.

"Ally, it's a great paper and all," he starts, attempting to find the right words.

"But?" she asks when he doesn't continue.

"Nothing. It's nothing." He scoots his chair back, getting ready to stand.

She pushes him back down. "Austin, just tell me. I can handle it."

He makes a sound of discontent, grabbing the sheet. Skimming through, he finds the paragraph he's looking for.

"'To see that gleam in his eye when he's performing, to an audience of thousands, or even just at a bat mitzvah to a few unruly kids, you can see that he's found his calling. To find that at such a young age, and to hold onto it, that is what I call true fortune. It motivates me to find my own true passion, so that I too can be my best me.'" He sets the page down again. "That gleam, I've seen it in you. When you're on stage, you own it. That's where you belong."

She fumbles to find her words.

So instead, he takes the lead.

"Why go to college for something your heart isn't set on?" He's not saying that she shouldn't get an education. But spending how many years in a classroom to have a degree in childhood education, when the job market is as small as it is? It makes no sense to him.

She's made it as a recording artist. You don't just dump your passion on the side of the road as soon as you get your heart's desire.

Then why did he kiss her and act like it didn't just happen?

One step at a time.

"I, I don't know."

"Well, why do you want to be a teacher?"

"I don't know." She lifts her paper, sets it back down in frustration.

He takes her in his arms, tucking her under his chin. "Maybe you should take a semester off and come on tour with me while you figure it out."

She looks up, hitting her head on his.

"You booked another tour? That's awesome."

"Yeah. I was thinking that you and I could perform together. We could be the Double A tour!"

"Like the batteries?"

He feels tempted to make a corny comment on how she surely sends an electric charge through him, but thinks better of it. It is a pretty bad title. Alcoholics Anonymous much?

Kissing the top of her head, he pulls away. "Just think about it, okay?"

As if her mind will be on anything that isn't that kiss.


Her heel breaks as she's walking down the aisle with her father.

See, she told him something was bound to go wrong.

Austin runs down the aisle, tuxedo arms wrapping around her as he lifts her, carrying her to the altar. "You said everything would be fine."

"I'm about to marry the most beautiful girl in the world. Everything is perfect."

"But I broke my heel."

"As long as you don't break my heart." He sets her on the floor, stooping down to take off her shoes. Then, for good measure, he takes off his own.

She stands on her toes, tripping on the fabric of her dress. He catches her.

'I love you,' she mouths to him.

He reciprocates. Always has.

Always will.

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