Hey guys! I'm a fan of the Secret Life, even though I will admit it's totally cliché and usually stupid and sometimes annoying, but nevertheless, I can't seem to get enough of it. Weird, huh? At the beginning of the show, I was totally Ricky-Amy and kind of Amy-Ben, but lately I'm really Grace-Ricky. He may be a total tool, but there's good reason for that, and I just think Grace and Ricky have amazing chemistry and, like Jack said in one episode, I can see Grace being the girl who changes Ricky for the better and makes him into a better person. So I decided to put my passion toward these two characters' chemistry with each other into a little story. I don't know how long it'll be and I'm not even one hundred percent where it's going, so just stick with it and enjoy. Even if you're not a Ricky-Grace shipper, please give this story a chance. Thanks and God Bless you all! :D

Title: For the Love of a Good Woman

Author: JesusLoverForever15 (My real name is Sarah)

Rating: K+ (There's a mention of a sexual conquest and brief mentions of sex throughout, but nothing graphic at all.)

Genre: Romantic-drama with some angst. The usual.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Secret Life of the American Teenager; I just like to use their characters for fanfictions. Besides, if I did own Secret Life, I would make Amy and Ashley be nicer to their mom, because I think they take her for granted and always choose to side with their dad, who seriously has the maturity of a five-year-old. Sorry. End of rant. (But, seriously, how could you not love Molly Ringwald's motherly character? I'm a fan of her in her 80's movies, so of course I'm gonna side with her character! Who wouldn't?)

Note: In this story, season two didn't take place. That means Ricky's dad is still in jail and Ricky's secret is still safe from Grace and Adrian. It also means the episode where Ricky dumps Grace and Grace does that whole heartbreaking "But you are in love with me! I know you're in love with me! Aren't you in love with me?" spiel never happened. Jeez, it was seriously hard to watch such a sweet person like Grace crying over a tool like Ricky, but I have to believe that Ricky genuinely does care about her and just broke-up with her because he's sick of hurting her and using her for his own sick pleasure. Also, this is a completely random little side-note, but thank goodness Jack got a new haircut! Anyone else agree his old one was not cute and his new one makes him look very handsome? Anyway, let the story begin!

"Ricky!" Grace's sweet, innocent voice sang out. I hate to admit it, but hearing her call out my name in such a needy, excited manner caused my eyes to roll.

I turned around slowly to face her, taking in the sight of her exquisite beauty. Long white-blonde hair set in angelic curls, soft and loose, flowed around her flawless face. Her eyes, the palest of greens with an undertone of the lightest of blues, glowed with pure joy to be around me. Her skin was creamy, smooth, fair-toned. Her build was medium-height, slender, kind of curvy. Her smile was huge with big teeth, pearly white and straight, that were almost blinding. She was perfect and sweet and innocent and pure and everything a regular guy could dream of. But I'm not a regular guy.

"Hey, Grace," I greeted, forcing a fake smile. It was tight and showed none of my teeth, curled up on the sides in a wry way. Anyone could've seen that it wasn't genuine from a mile away, but Grace is a little bit too naïve and optimistic to think I would ever give her a false smile, so she didn't call me out on my annoyed little smirk.

"I had fun on our date last night," Grace gushed in that sugary voice. Our date meaning us seeing some extremely dumb chick-flick and consisting of me scoring a mere handhold during the entirety of the film and Grace giggling at all of the annoying, clean jokes the PG-rated movie provided. Yes, that's right: PG-RATED! Ugh. The only thing that had saved me from ripping my hair out from sheer boredom was the fact that the movie's leading lady was super hot.

"Uh, yeah, me too," I lied, letting her link arms with me and start pulling me down the hallway toward the one class we had together. "The movie was…fun…and you looked beautiful." At least the beautiful part wasn't untrue.

Grace laughed and beamed up at me. "Ricky, you're so sweet!" she cooed before lifting up on her tip-toes and planting a big kiss on my cheek.

This time, the grin that stretched out across my face was real. This is going to sound really unmanly and sissy-like, but whenever Grace's lips met my face (whether it be a passionate kiss on the lips or a sweet – albeit kind of childish – smooch on the cheek) I feel my heart start beating a little bit faster and genuine happiness to flow through my veins. A kiss from a gorgeous, wonderful girl can do that to you if you're not being careful.

"Not as sweet as your smile," I replied to Grace's compliment, turning up the charm. Maybe if I started flattering her some more, I'd score a kiss on the lips. The mere thought sent a thrilled shiver to dance down my spine.

"I love the way you make me feel," Grace whispered as she cuddled into my side. I wrapped my arm around her small waist as we continued to amble down the winding hallways.

"And I love you, Gracie," I responded in autopilot. For me, love wasn't a way to speak my undying, unconditional passion for the girl I cared for most deeply; it was merely my secret weapon, the surefire way to get a girl to fall for me and eventually lead to the bedroom. I didn't love "Gracie." Sure, I might find myself unfortunately feeling all caring and protective of her and might, sometimes, love her presence around me, but the fact of the matter was that the great Ricky Underwood did not fall in love with anyone. Especially a certain anyone who he doesn't deserve and is wrong for, like Grace Bowman.

I gazed down into Grace's magnificent, hypnotic eyes, feeling guilty as they glowed up at me with affection and, no doubt, love. I was the biggest scum on the planet. I was leading a girl on who was obviously head-over-heels for me. I deserved to have a big bucket of acid dumped right over my head.

Grace stopped walking and drew away from me. I missed feeling a hot girl against my body and immediately began to slip my arm around her again. "No," Grace smiled gently at me and swatted my arm away. "Ricky, you always tell me you love me, but I don't think I've ever actually said it back. At least not to your face, anyway."

I didn't like where this was going. I didn't want Grace to make me feel any guiltier of taking advantage of her. I held my breath as Grace proceeded with her mini-monologue, hoping she wouldn't tell me she loved me. I didn't need this on my conscious.

"Ricky," she paused to take a dramatic, excited little breath, "I love you! I love you so much! You're a great guy; you're caring, sweet, always there for me, and really cute. I'm falling in love with you, and I thank God everyday for putting you in my life."

My heart slammed against my ribcage slowly. I felt terrible. I bit down on my bottom lip and balled my hands into fists, feeling the skin stretching over my bones in a tight and painful way. My knuckles began to fade into white from the pressure.

"Wow," I finally managed. I pulled my composure together as quickly as I could and finally uncurled my fists, made my smile look as authentic as possible, and took her hands, pure and delicate, into mine, filthy with plagues of sin and poor decisions. "You know I love you, too, Gracie." I told her as convincingly as possible.

"I know," Grace's beaming expression almost made my heart break. I was a horrible person. But, honestly, I didn't care too much. I just had one goal in being with her, one goal that made all of my guilt worthwhile: to deflower her. It was the ultimate challenge and I was never one to pass up a challenge, especially if it was every guy at school's dream and would make me even more of the big man on campus.

This time, Grace didn't need to reach up on her tip-toes a tad like she had last time; I knelt down the few inches difference of our height and watched as her eyes fluttered closed, her long, voluminous black-mascara coated eyelashes fanning out over her supermodel cheekbones.

I closed my eyes, too, titled my head to the right just-so, and soon I found our lips meeting in a sweet, passionate kiss. I didn't feel the fireworks of love I'd heard so much about, but there was definitely an electric chemistry, a charge of attraction and possibilities that sparked between us.

When we pulled away and I opened my eyes, I noticed that Grace's eyes were still shut. A cute, small smile turned the corners of her luscious, soft, kissable lips up.

"Grace," I whispered softly and seductively, loving the slow way she opened her eyes, almost sleepily. "We have to get to class. The late bell's going to ring any minute, and I know how you're obsessed with perfect attendance."

Grace giggled and we hooked arms again. As we fell into step down the halls, I couldn't help but realize something. Something that crept up to me sluggishly and timidly. Something that was beginning to gnaw at the corners of my mind. Something that was making me feel uncomfortable. Butterflies were tickling the insides of my stomach in a girlish way, making it painfully clear of one thing: that last kiss and Grace's reaction afterward might've made me start seeing Grace Bowman in a new light.

Although it was a dim beam, it made me wonder if I was losing my mind; this new light was one where I saw Grace in a way that didn't center around my sexual appetite.

Author's Note: Please review! I can take constructive criticism because that can really help me, but no flames, pretty please. C'mon, review! You know you're little finger is just itching to press that button. It'll take you about five seconds and, in doing so, you'll know you made me feel happy because you took a little time out of your day to show you care about this story. Thanks everyone and take care! 3