Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Gilmore Girls; they belong to WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
A.N: I really have no idea where this came from. I guess you can blame 'Tristan' (my new laptop. Heh) for this one; during one of my breaks, I started writing this. When I started out, I meant it to be L/C but as I went on, it evolved into a Trory. Hmmmph. No names are mentioned and I think if you really stretched your imagination, it could be L/C. Heh. But in my head, it's Tristan & Rory (when is it ever not them?). Oh well. Read on, anyway, although I guarantee nothing.  (Translation: This could be crap.)

Written for Gilmore Girls Improv at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gilmoregirlsimprov/
 Improv: ego --- tender --- glass --- freak

* * * * *
In Too Deep
by inmyeyes

"Within you, I lose myself - without you I find myself wanting to be lost again."

"What are you doing?" she hissed, her eyes following the figure that was stealthily climbing onto her balcony.

"I'm climbing onto your balcony."

"I know that," she sighed, rolling her eyes. Walking through the open sliding doors, she held out her hand to help him climb over the railing. "Why?"

Smirking, he dusted off his jeans. "I wanted to see you."

"At one in the morning?" she countered.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "I'm crazy for you."

She let out a huff and turned back and strode into her room. "No, you're just plain crazy," she said over her shoulder.

"But you like me anyway," he grinned, following her and closing the doors behind him.

"And there," she pointed an accusatory finger at him as she sat down at the edge of her bed. "There's that ego. I know it'd come out sooner or later."

He remained standing by the doors, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. The cheeky expression on his face was all the response he gave.

She wasn't daunted; in fact, his nonchalance seemed to spur her on. "You know, I think you need to add a new word to your already minuscule vocabulary."

He raised his brow and waited for her to carry on.

"No."

He affected a perplexed look as he leveled his gaze on hers. "I know what it means… but," and he looked pointedly at her, "sometimes, people mean yes when they say no."

She gave an indignant snort, crossing her arms across her chest in a gesture of defiance. "I think you have a lot of problems; the least of which is your brain."

"Ouch," he winced. "You're crushing my tender heart."

It seemed like she couldn't stop rolling her eyes whenever she was around him. "You have a heart?"

"Wow, you're pulling out the big guns, huh?" She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off before she could say anything. "For a girl who claims to hate me, you seem unbothered by my presence in your room."

"Oh no, I'm just good at hiding my feelings."

He smiled, his expression softening as his eyes took her in. "That you are."

She let her arms fall to her side as she regarded him closely. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't I already tell you? I'm here to see you."

She shot him a disbelieving look.

"I am," he protested, walking closer to her. He didn't fail to notice the way she seemed to inch further onto the bed, away from him. "I wanted to see you."

"You know, we've already slept together. You don't have to pull the Casanova I'm-can't-stop-thinking-about-you act anymore," she said, trying to sound blasé but failing miserably.

"Damn, there goes my next line," he kidded. His mischievous smile vanished as he reached out to lightly touch her cheek. "I'll say it anyway." His voice lowered to an intimate caress. "I can't stop thinking about you."

She swallowed thickly, telling herself that she should be used to the way tingles ran down her spine every time he got too close to her. But somehow, the emotion felt new and exciting every time. "Well, too bad for you," she quipped. She quickly stood up and went to the other side of the room, feeling the need to put distance between them.

The first time was an accident, she reassured herself. She had been caught off guard by the feelings his kiss evoked and he had made her feel so wonderful that she just had to go on and let the emotions grow. He awakened a passion in her that she didn't think she had, that's all.

The second time was a mistake, she told herself. It wasn't her fault that he so happened to find her alone in the study during one of those drunken parties they both happened to be at. Even though she was completely sober (and, she suspected, so was he), it was still a mistake. He had looked at her in that way that made heat curl in her stomach and the next thing she knew, they were locked in a tight embrace, lips touching everywhere, hands roaming and relearning the feel of each other. It had been fast, furious, passionate and completely exciting. And, she told herself over and over again, it had been a mistake.

It didn't matter how many times it happened- it was a mistake. Her favourite mistake, it seemed.

And this, him being in her bedroom in the dead of the light, casting his intense gaze on her, was unnerving her. Suddenly, she became aware of exactly how she was dressed- or rather, how much she wasn't dressed. The old faded t-shirt barely reached the top of her thighs and she came to the realization that the material must have inched further up when she had been sitting on the bed.

Tugging on the frayed material lightly, she gave him the full blast of her haughty gaze. "You should leave," was her clipped comment.

He titled his head slightly, watching her. There was a pregnant pause before he said softly, "I should, but you don't want me to."

Her anger flared up. "Don't tell me what I want and I don't."  She narrowed her eyes. "You don't know me."

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. "I know you better than you think."

She was so furious that she didn't trust herself to say anything. Instead, she kept her eyes on him as he closed the distance between them to stand in front of her. His eyes searched hers and she fought not to turn away; her eyes were cold, challenging and she inwardly dared him to make a move, to carry on with what he had been saying.

"I know," his hand came up and the back of it brushed lightly across her cheek, "that even though you act tough, you're actually made of glass."

She clenched her fists and willed herself not to tremble. After a charged silence, she tore her eyes away, took a step away and turned her back on him.

She forced a laugh. "You don't know anything."

A light touch on her shoulder before his whisper reached her ears. "Hey…" The hand turned her around and she acquiesced. She made herself look at him, not wanting to show how weak she was… and how close she was to giving in to him.

"You don't have to pretend when you're with me," was the plea.

Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them; they had been hiding behind mind games, barbed words and well, sex for so long that it seemed that they didn't know any better.

She took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop beating so fast and wishing that she didn't want to feel his kiss. Stepping to the side, she said sharply, "You still don't know me." But the small smile playing about her lips took away the sting of the words.

Recognizing that she had conceded somewhat and knowing that they were treading on familiar ground again, his posture relaxed. He made his way back to the middle of the room and sat on her bed, his arms supporting him as he leaned back. A lascivious grin appeared. "I know you want to freak me," he supplied, winking.

"Oh yeah, I want you real bad," she said dryly. But she slowly approached him, unaware that her eyes were shining with the desire that had been growing within her.

From his position, he watched her through half-lidded eyes, licking his lips at the sensual image she presented. "Real bad, huh?"

"Real bad," she repeated as she stood in front of him, her lips curled in an inviting smile. Surprising him, and herself, with her boldness, she sat down on his lap, snaking her arms around his neck and burying her fingers in his hair. "The question is… how bad do you want me?"

The air was suddenly charged with electricity- a sharp contrast to the tension just a few seconds ago. His eyes took her in and zeroed in on her lips when she bit lightly on her full bottom lip. He suppressed a groan and tried to concentrate on the conversation- if you could call it that- which they were having. "I am in your room at 1am, aren't I?"

"You're talking too much," she admonished, pulling herself so close that her lips brushed his when she spoke.

"You started it," he copied her singsong tone.

She raised her brow and grinned. "Well, I'm ending it."

Their kiss was soft at first but before long, the fire that had consumed them on previous occasions reared its head as they lost themselves in each other.

"This," her words were cut off when he moved his lips to her neck. For a second, she lost her train of thought. "This," she said firmly, although there was a dreamy quality in her voice, "is not gonna work out."

He broke away for a moment. "Says who?"

Her eyes closed as he bent his head and resumed kissing and nipping her neck. "It just isn't."

This time, when he pulled away, his attention was completely focused on her. He immediately saw the uncertainty in her eyes and struggled to find the words to take that away.  "Look, you can probably think of a hundred reasons why this won't work out."

"Two hundred actually," she managed to joke, smiling shakily.

He squeezed her hand, drawing strength when she reciprocated the gesture. "But I've got a reason why this just might work out." He paused, took a deep breath then looked into her eyes. But he found that he couldn't maintain the contact. Dropping his eyes to their entwined hands, he mumbled, "I love you."

He didn't see the shock that clouded her blue eyes but he definitely felt her pull away. When he looked up, he saw the panicked expression splashed on her face.

She shook her head vehemently. "No, no, no. This was not how it's supposed to be."

His words were tinged with bitterness. "How was this supposed to be?"

"It's an accident, a mistake." She ran a hand haphazardly through her hair. "It's not supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to fall in love with someone like you- I told myself I wouldn't."

His features hardened with each word she said. "So I was just a pit stop on your road trip, huh? An unexpected toilet break, maybe?"

"More like unexpected heart break."

He had stood up by now, his face inscrutable. "You have a heart?" The barb that she had thrown at him earlier cut through her deeper than it should have.

Through sheer will, she stopped the tears that were threatening to escape. "No," she whispered. "I don't have it." Her voice lowered until he had to strain to hear it. "I gave it to you."

His sigh was one of frustration. "You know what? Maybe I don't know you after all."

"Maybe somehow this all happened… despite the fact that we don't know each other."

"Maybe you're right, and I am crazy."

A tense silence ensued.

"Maybe you really should go," she said, her smile sad. She wanted to ask him to stay, but thought that she had no right to do so.

"No," he disagreed. He closed his eyes for a second; when he opened them, he held out his hand. "I'd be crazy to walk away now."

She didn't hesitate- her hand clasped his. This was crazy, but she was in too deep.

* * * * *