Note to Readers: Sorry I haven't been updating my other two stories in a while, I've been a bit stuck on how to write what's going to happen next. Please comment if you have any ideas for Quiet As A Mouse or A Girl In New York, and don't forget to comment and vote for this story, too.
Pony walked into his kitchen and was surprised to see someone standing on the kitchen counter. Dirty Converses, torn jeans, faded T-shirt, and the back of a head of short choppy brown hair. He'd recognize his girlfriend, even from the back and standing on a counter, anywhere. Though he never knew her butt looked so nice...
Since she was distracted digging through the cupboards for something--standing on the counter to reach only because it was the very top shelves and even Darry couldn't reach those without a stepstool--Pony snuck up behind her, putting his hands on her hips, and swiftly lifted her up and swung her down from the counter, setting her on her feet. He was surprised to not hear her scream, but knowing Tara he should have expected that, and the clenched fist she raised to his face, ready to punch him.
"Hey, watch it," Pony exclaimed, holding his hands up in mock surrender and backing up, only to hit the kitchen table and plunge his hand into a half-empty pot of cold...something or other. It had been left sitting out for too long for him to tell what it was anymore.
Tara dropped her fist and started laughing, and Pony just watched disgustedly as a yellowish-green substance--chicken noodle soup? Runny apple pie? One of Soda's crazy concoctions?--glopped off his hand and back into the pot. As her laughs subsided, Tara managed to grab a paper towel and hand it to Pony to clean off his currently alien-colored fingers.
"Looks like you learned your lesson," she said with a grin as Pony wiped the gooey mess off his fingers. It was gross.
"What lesson?" he asked a bit sullenly, upset at Soda or Darry or whoever had left the mess on the table.
"Next time, you're going to get punched or end up with a slimy green head," she answered smugly.
"There's going to be a next time?" Pony asked quizzically, thinking more so of the view while she was standing on the counter than the fist in the face if he pulled her off the counter again. Damn, he'd have to stop listening to Two-Bit and Steve talk about girls all the time.
"Knowing you, there'll be a bunch of them. Knowing me, there'll be one before you end up in the hospital," Tara teasingly threatened.
"Oh come on. Don't tell me you don't like surprises," Pony contradicted.
"I don't like surprises," she stated coldly, entirely serious.
Just to make her mad, and cause he wanted to, Pony grabbed her around the waist, pulled her closer, and gave her a kiss right on the lips.
She pulled away almost immediately, but then grinned mischievously and plopped a handful of unidentifiable green stuff on his head. She had grabbed it from the pot on the table while he was distracted kissing her, and she jeered, "Told you so," before dashing out of the room.
Ponyboy chased after her, cold slimy chunks dripping into his eyes and over his ears, running down his hair and falling on his shoulders before flying off him as he ran after his allegedly evil girlfriend.