"There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time." - Jane Austen

AN: Hey guys! This is my entry for the BTR Plot Adoption Forum's Valentine's Day Challenge! The prompt was to focus on love, any kind of love, not necessarily romantic. So, I wrote this exchange between James and his younger half-brother, my OC Landon who never gets enough scenes even though I love him, lol.

This takes place a few weeks, if not a week, before the boys are discovered by Gustavo. They are roughly fifteen to sixteen-ish. Landon is. . . well, I'll goof around and make him roughly five to six in this, even though that doesn't match with my other story, "Sometimes We Forgive." Oh, well. I'm an inconsistent person, lol. This is also ignoring the fact that James and Landon attend separate school districts.

Maybe he's too articulate for a six-year-old, but I've always kind of had the idea that Landon is a pretty smart kid. And the age-gaps between him and his older siblings is pretty significant, so he's being raised primarily around adults/older adolescents, so I don't think his dialogue is too farfetched. I also don't know any kids this age so I have no idea how to write for them.

I don't own BTR or Taco Bell.

The bed groaned and rocked a bit as James collapsed onto it with a sigh. He brought his arms up to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He, the legendary James Diamond, had been stood up.

He truly couldn't believe it. He'd done everything perfectly. He'd done a few dramatically extra pull-ups in gym class; he sent Naomi an incredibly romantic poem asking her out (he'd gotten it from a Shakespeare sonnet but what did that matter now?); he hadn't even lined up any back-up dates in case she didn't work out, which really wasn't his style.

And yet. . . he sat on a park bench for over an hour, freezing his six-pack off while he waited for a cheerleader that never even showed up. He texted her once (double-texting was an absolute no-no. . . he didn't want to look desperate) and even left her a voicemail, and yet, nothing. He'd given her an additional fifteen minutes before deciding to head home, discouraged and more than a little hurt. Seriously, who would pass up a date with the James Diamond?

Evidently, he thought, Naomi would. And did.

He yanked off the nice button-down shirt and replaced it with a hoodie, simultaneously trading in his slacks for jeans, since he obviously wasn't going anywhere nice tonight. He sighed, heading for his desk (because really, what better than theatre fail videos to cheer him up after a let down like this). He slid open his laptop drawer and frowned. His computer wasn't there, which was odd since he was generally pretty organized. He always put it there.

Although, he thought, he had been pretty psyched about the date when he got home. He must have left it in his backpack. He reached for the bag, swinging it up onto the desk and rummaging through it. His laptop wasn't in there either. That was weird. Where could it-

His stomach sank. He knew exactly where it was. He'd gone to his father's museum after school. They were having a big event in honor of. . . something he didn't care about and his father needed him to babysit his brother. Landon could be a handful, and he got especially antsy being cooped up in their father's office for the better part of two hours. They'd settled for playing RadMathematics games online, and it kept the six-year-old occupied enough for James to mentally plan his evening.

And that was where his laptop was now. On his father's desk. In the museum. On the other side of town.

James groaned rather dramatically, grabbing a pair of sneakers from the floor and tugging a winter hat over his head. He would need the laptop for class the next day, and he certainly wasn't waking up early in February weather to retrieve it before school. His only option was to go right now, and the sooner he got back, the sooner he would be able to curl up in bed and wallow in his own self-pity.

Yeah, that sounded like a pleasant evening.

He grabbed his backpack and tromped down the stairs, snagging his coat from the hook before heading outside. He braced himself against the bitter cold as he unlocked his bike from the rack by the garage. He would be riding against the wind. Just his luck.

The trip only took about ten minutes, but James was nearly frozen by the time he pulled to a stop in front of the museum's entrance. He discarded his bike at the base of the concrete steps and hurried up to the door. He pressed the intercom button with a numb finger, then shoved his hands into his pockets. He really should've thought to grab some hand warmers or something. . .

The intercom crackled and a harsh voice came over the line. "Identify yourself."

James smirked. "It's James."

Instantly, the voice changed. "Jay Jay, my man! Come on in!" The door immediately clicked, and James didn't hesitate to yank it open and hurry inside. The lobby, thank God, was incredibly warm, and James' skin immediately stung with the change in temperature. Still cold, he didn't move to take his coat off.

An armed security guard quickly rose from behind the desk and came to meet him, grinning. "Dude, it's like negative ten out there!" Ricky Meyers exclaimed, grinning. "You're almost as crazy as your old man! The heck are you doing here?"

"I forgot my laptop," James explained, chuckling. Ricky was a large man, scarily intimidating to potential museum thieves but an absolute bro to everyone else. "I'll be out in five minutes, you won't even know I was here."

"Uh, trust me man, you're not bothering me," Ricky assured him. "It's been real dead tonight if you get my drift." He winked.

"That was terrible."

"That was the best joke I've ever said."

"Then that's sad."

The two chuckled, and James began to head towards the corridor that housed his father's office. "Hey!" Ricky called after him. "Tell your dad to get some kind of magical tablet or something. I'm getting tired of talking to myself." He gestured to the large dinosaur skeleton poised on the left side of the lobby. "Plus. . . playing fetch with a something-a-sauras sounds kinda fun."

James laughed. "Yeah, I'll put a word in."

Ricky flashed him a thumbs up and began humming something that sounded suspiciously like Justin Bieber, and James chuckled as he headed down the hallway. He bit his lip, hoping the office was unlocked since he didn't have a key, and certainly wasn't going to call his father to come and unlock the door this late. He was fairly certain Ricky's keys only worked on the exterior doors, not the private office. If the door wasn't unlocked. . .

Well, clearly the door was unlocked, James realized as he came upon it, stopping in the hallway. There was a light shining beneath, and a muffled electronic beeping sound could be heard in the hall. Cautious, James stood back a way as he gently pushed the door open. He sighed heavily at the sight before him.

His six-year-old brother was hunched precariously over their father's desk, wildly clicking away on James' laptop as game music blared through the speakers. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he didn't even glance up as his older brother entered.

"Landon, what are you doing?" he began, a bit incredulously.

"Making tacos," the boy answered as though it were obvious. He kept his eyes on the screen, dragging the mouse back and forth while simultaneously clicking things.

"W. . .where's Dad?"

"He and Mom went for dinner."

"Then where's Macey?"

"Home."

James' stomach dropped. ". . .You're here by yourself?!"

Landon turned at James' raised voice, startled and confused. "I know the way," he said defensively, unsure why his older brother was angry.

"That doesn't matter," James argued. He gaped. "Do you know how many things could've happened to you?"

"But nothing happened!"

"You could've been kidnapped or something!"

"Nu-uh! Dad told me if someone ever grabs me to pee on them, 'cause they'll let me go. And I wouldda peed on them."

. . .Good to see his dad was giving some quality advice there. . .

"Landon, why are you here at," he glanced at his watch, "8:30 at night?"

"You forgot your laptop," Landon answered, gesturing to the device. "And I never finished making Gale's taco."

James sighed, stomach still unsteady, before coming around the side of the desk and slipping his backpack off his shoulders. "Okay, well. . ." He trailed off, glancing at the screen. "Dude, what is that?"

"Duh, it's the Leaning Tower of Tacos," Landon answered, admiring the sprawling stack of taco shells on the computer.

". . .That's sick."

"Yeah. It wouldn't let me do it with pizzas so I figured tacos would be better."

James chuckled, grabbing the laptop and stuffing it into his backpack. "Maybe you can play tomorrow, if your mom lets you."

"She never lets me. She says screens are bad."

"Yeah, well. . ." James stopped himself before he said something unkind. He grabbed Landon's coat from where it was draped over a nearby chair and tossed it to him. "Come on, I'll take you home. Maybe I'll stay the night, too." Since Macey seemed determined to be such a horrendous babysitter and not even keep track of their brother at all.

"Really?!" Landon exclaimed, shrugging on the jacket and zipping it quickly. "Can we watch tv?"

James shrugged. "Don't tell your mom."

Landon grinned, following James out the door and towards the back exit in hopes of avoiding Ricky. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"

"I game in through the loading dock. There's an air vent back there that leads to the vent in the main hall."

James stopped, poised by a back door. "What? Why do you know that?!"

The six-year-old shrugged. "Dad showed me one time."

The six-year-old shrugged. "Dad showed me one time."

The taller boy sighed heavily, typing in an access code that temporarily disabled the door alarm so they could exit. He shut it firmly behind them before heading towards the front of the building to retrieve his bike.

"You know what?" Landon said eventually, his head tilted curiously.

James glanced up as he propped the kickstand up and balanced the bicycle beside him. "What?"

"That game made me really hungry for tacos."

". . . It's almost nine o'clock you moron."

"Uh, it's never too late for tacos." Landon pouted. "Pleeeeease, Jay Jay?"

He really had been looking forward to being miserable for the rest of the night. . . but, a late-night taco excursion did sound a bit more appealing. . .

He shrugged. "What the hey."

His mother would kill him if she saw them right now.

He and Landon had claimed a booth in the back of a nearby Taco Bell (even though the place was deserted. . . what lunatics ate Taco Bell at almost 9:15 at night?) and currently had two party boxes, each complete with twelve small tacos, sitting between them. That was twenty-four tacos. . . not nearly enough to heal James' bitterness, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

He was currently on his eighth if he'd counted correctly. They were small, so he didn't feel too guilty about it. And it was, at the very least, helping him forget his disastrous attempt of a romantic Valentine's Day outing. No more Naomi Stokes, no more thoughts about her pretty blond hair or the gorgeous lips he had been absolutely ready to make out with, no more sappy love. Seriously, who needed love anyway? James was much more content with tacos. Just pure, juicy, love-killing-

"Didn't you have a date tonight?" Landon suddenly mused, shoving half a taco into his mouth and attempting to swallow it whole.

And there it was, all back in his head once again.

Reluctantly, James swallowed and grabbed his soda. "Yep," he answered shortly, chugging down a gulp of the drink.

"How'd it go?"

. . . "Oh, just great. I love freezing to death in a park for an hour and a half waiting for a girl who never showed."

". . . Did you get standed up?"

James chuckled half-heartedly before sighing. "Stood up? Mmmhmm."

Landon made a face. "Girls suck."

"Yeah, guarantee you won't feel like that in a few years."

"Bet I will. I got stood up yesterday too."

James cracked a smile. "Really?" he asked, feigning shock. "Do tell."

Landon gave a dramatic sigh, taking a bite of his taco before setting it on a napkin. "You'll laugh."

The older boy shook his head. "I swear I won't." His brother looked skeptical. "What's her name?"

"Autumn. She sits next to me in art."

"Ooh."

Landon frowned. "She doesn't like me though."

"Are you sure?"

"Well. . .she kinda did, so I bought her a Minnie Mouse toy-"

"You bought her a toy? With what?"

Landon shrugged. "Macey buys me whatever I want if I scream loud enough."

James smirked. "I've taught you well. Go on."

"Anyway, I gave it to her but the next day she said she couldn't go out with me."

"Why not?"

"She said I'm illigimate."

Illigimate? James paused, taco in hand as he eyed his brother curiously. "What?"

"Does that mean I'm bad?" Landon continued as though he hadn't heard. "'Cause daddy waited to marry my mommy?"

. . .Had she said he was illegitimate? What six-year-old knew that word, let alone what it meant?

"W. . ." James stammered, unsure of how to even begin to answer him. "She called you that?"

Landon shrugged a bit dejectedly. "Does it mean I'm bad?" he repeated. "She said her big sister said that makes me bad."

Well, that was some great example-setting in that family. "N-no," James said quickly. "Landon, she called you that?"

Sensing his older brother's temper growing, Landon quieted, nodding.

. . .Okay, Landon was technically, well, what that kid had said. He was the product of a one-night stand between Andrew Diamond and a young waitress, and he had been born before their father had married the woman, but. . . that wasn't Landon's fault. And that certainly didn't make him any less of a person, just because his parents hadn't even loved each other and hadn't planned for him at all.

James struggled to find adequate words. "Landon, you won't even remember her in a week. I promise."

"But everyone else has someone," the six-year-old whined. "They all share their crackers and play together and nobody ever wants to do anything with me."

"They won't even remember each other in a week, buddy. They're just pretending. Little kids do that all the time."

"I'm not a little kid."

"Okay, but you are a kid. You go to school with kids. They're not really dating. So what if you're not with anyone? Why does it matter?"

Landon leaned back in his seat, pouting. "They'll make fun of me."

James shrugged. "Then make fun of them right back. Self-defense, bro." He bit his lip when Landon didn't answer. "Just. . . don't pay attention to her. She's not worth it."

"But she's pretty."

"So? If she's not nice, then she's not worth it. It doesn't matter what she looks like."

Landon fell silent for a moment, picking wistfully at his taco before speaking again. "You don't date nice girls."

"What?"

"They're all mean and cranky and picky, and I never even see the same one twice. They're always different, and they don't even like you. You only date them 'cause that's what everyone else does."

The words slipped from James' lips, and he quieted almost immediately. Okay, so maybe the girls he took out weren't that great. Most of them were pretty rude, and each date almost always ended in an argument and an awkward drive back to the girl's house to drop her off. But. . .he was James Diamond. He was supposed to go out with the best-looking, most popular girls in school. He was expected to. He. . . was a total hypocrite.

"Okay," he replied, defeated. "Touché." He sighed, ripping off a piece of his taco and twirling it in his fingers. "Maybe that's something we both need to work on."

"What?"

"Self-respect." He elaborated when Landon continued to look confused. "It's like, self-love. Taking care of ourselves and not worrying about what other people think. . .Only date girls that we actually like and that are good people rather than just dating them because everyone else is dating someone."

Landon shrugged. "Okay," he said simply, popping a piece of lettuce into his mouth.

James smirked. The conversation would be forgotten to his brother in an hour, but not for him. Maybe. . .maybe he really did need to change his dating habits, if not for his sake, then for Landon's. He was the example, right? Backup dates and five different girls a month probably weren't the best precedents to be setting, at least to a six-year-old.

And. . .maybe he should show a little self-respect. Why couldn't he be happy being single? He was James Diamond, after all. He didn't need a girl at his side every week just because other guys did. Why shouldn't he wait for a girl that he could have a committed, serious relationship with?

He would change. If not for his sake, then for his brother's.

He took a bit of his next taco, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "Hey, what was that girl's last name?"

"Stokes, I think. Why?"

Of course, self-love also meant standing up for yourself. And your family.

Autumn was six. She didn't know any better. But Naomi certainly did.

James feigned innocence the next morning when word got out that the Stokes' house had been viciously TPed.

Good grief this was so rushed. I'm so sorry for the poor quality of this, but I needed to get this posted. Ugh, darn my procrastination!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, at least a little bit. I don't usually write a lot for Landon so I thought I'd give him a little spot. Sorry about the OC usage.

Thank you for reading and please review!

God bless you and much love,

-downtonabbey15 :)