Leaves
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway. Just for fun.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Please. Just so I don't disappear under a rock.
Author's Note: I've raised the rating to PG13, probably unnecessarily. I reserve the right to put it up again, but I seriously doubt that I will. Also, well, I meant to post this on New Year's Eve, but I couldn't talk myself into waiting. Maybe I'll set a chapter on New Year's Day, and get that out on the first. Have a very happy New Year, starting now.
Tristan gave Rory a lopsided smile. "Mary. So, are you here alone? Because if you are, I could give you a ride. I could give you a ride even if you're not."
Rory felt her cheeks flush, and glared up at him. "Do you even know whose party you're at, Tristan? Of course I'm not here alone. Wait a second, why would I be at one of these parties alone? I don't attend these things for the pleasure they bring; I spend a substantial portion of my time avoiding the people who frequent these. And I can drive myself, thank you very much."
Tristan's voice deepened. "I'd enjoy watching that. Where's the bag- boy? Or are you here with your mother?"
Rory furrowed her brow. "Neither, actually. I'm here with my grandparents."
The corners of Tristan's mouth turned up in amusement. "You can't be at your grandparent's house with your grandparents; that's not possible. You are here alone. So no-one will notice if we slip upstairs and start the year with a bang."
"Don't you mean the kind of smash that heralds a train wreck? Or maybe the sound of my fist connecting with your face. Although I think that might be more of a "thwap" sound. We should try it out and see."
"Mary, Mary. Lost the Christmas spirit so soon? You're not doing your namesake justice."
"My mother? I beg to differ," Rory murmured. She was distracted, having just reached the astounding conclusion that she was having a conversation with Tristan. Admittedly, it wasn't a friendly conversation, but that could change, and was compensated for by the fact that she hadn't had to start it. Did she want to have a friendly conversation with Tristan? Five minutes. Of course she did. She turned her attention back to him and smiled amiably.
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Rory was smiling; Tristan was scared. What was she up to now?
"Tristan. So. What are you doing here?"
He blinked in surprise, and his suspicion grew. Why was she being banal? Not to mention friendly. "What am I actually doing, what is the purpose of the party, or why am I attending?"
"Pick one."
"I'm here because my grandfather was proudly informed by yours that you'd be here, and I've been looking forward to seeing you quite as much as he has. Although I sincerely hope for different reasons." Which was true, even if Tristan would have gone anywhere with his grandfather, and Rory wouldn't believe he was telling the truth for a heartbeat. He couldn't blame her.
"Okay, and what are your thoughts on the deeper meaning of the New Year? Aside from it being a socially acceptable reason to drink too much, I mean. No, that's no good. And you're not multitasking, so that's out.. You're here with your grandfather?"
"Yeah. He's about here somewhere." Probably sneaking a cigar behind Tristan's back.
"I thought he was too sick to come out."
Tristan's face softened. "He was, but he's been feeling much better lately. He's able to get around well enough as long as he's not alone. He really wanted to come; he hasn't been out, socially I mean, in such a long time. Your grandmother is making such a fuss of him he must feel like a kid at Christmas. The last time I saw him, he was drinking brandy in the library with your grandfather, and discussing business, so I was graciously excused." He knew he was revealing too much, babbling, but he couldn't stop talking. Time for a change of subject.
"Sent packing." Rory grinned.
"Well, yes. Why are you here? Where's your mother?"
"At home, having a fun party. I came because Grandpa wanted me here, and Grandma was determined. She's a very good manipulator, because I am extremely hard to manipulate, but she managed it. It's not too bad though. I've only seen Grandpa twice, but Grandma's been too busy to introduce me to random strangers. Although that would have been helpful tonight."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Hmm. Did you see Paris?"
"I did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. It was once, but it's not anymore. She's just.."
"Stupid."
"Stupid?"
"Jealous."
"Jealous. There's no reason for her to be jealous. She has nothing to be afraid of; I'm not in competition with her."
Tristan forced a smile; it felt weak, but he knew it wouldn't look it. "You know she feels threatened by you. She thinks you're an evil usurper, who has come to Chilton expressly to prevent her from attaining her life's goal of becoming valedictorian."
Rory shifted uneasily, and dropped her gaze. "Right, valedictorian. I know that. It's just that, I thought she'd be over it by now. What does she want me to do, pretend to be stupid? It's boys that are supposed to want that, not girls."
Tristan opened his mouth to refute the accusation, but his reply was cut off by Emily calling the room to order.
"Everyone, please! The countdown is about to begin! First, I just want to thank you all for coming. It means so much to Richard and I to ring in the year with all of our dearest friends. May the next year bring you all the joy and prosperity you could wish for." Tristan moved up beside Rory until his shoulder was brushing hers, and listened as Emily began the countdown. "Now, it's almost time. Quiet, everyone. All right. now! Ten, nine, eight.."
Tristan chanted along with the crowd, and stared down at Rory as her lips moved soundlessly. It was traditional. He could kiss her, but he shouldn't, wouldn't. Wouldn't do that to himself.
"Three, two.."
Rory turned her face up to his, her lips parted, her eyes shining, looking so happy, and he found himself reaching out to touch her. Just touch her. Just a peck on the cheek, he thought hazily. Harmless. He felt his lips connect with hers, and cling. Waves of warmth tightened his body, and he began to slump towards her, draw her closer. He tried desperately to control himself, tried not to react to her. When he pulled away, he wasn't sure how successful he had been. Rory stared up at him, a puzzled look in her wide eyes, her cheeks as pink as her lips.
"Tristan!" He turned to see his grandfather beckoning.
"I better.. I have to go and see what he wants," he told Rory, gesturing toward the old man. He walked away, and didn't look back.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway. Just for fun.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Please. Just so I don't disappear under a rock.
Author's Note: I've raised the rating to PG13, probably unnecessarily. I reserve the right to put it up again, but I seriously doubt that I will. Also, well, I meant to post this on New Year's Eve, but I couldn't talk myself into waiting. Maybe I'll set a chapter on New Year's Day, and get that out on the first. Have a very happy New Year, starting now.
Tristan gave Rory a lopsided smile. "Mary. So, are you here alone? Because if you are, I could give you a ride. I could give you a ride even if you're not."
Rory felt her cheeks flush, and glared up at him. "Do you even know whose party you're at, Tristan? Of course I'm not here alone. Wait a second, why would I be at one of these parties alone? I don't attend these things for the pleasure they bring; I spend a substantial portion of my time avoiding the people who frequent these. And I can drive myself, thank you very much."
Tristan's voice deepened. "I'd enjoy watching that. Where's the bag- boy? Or are you here with your mother?"
Rory furrowed her brow. "Neither, actually. I'm here with my grandparents."
The corners of Tristan's mouth turned up in amusement. "You can't be at your grandparent's house with your grandparents; that's not possible. You are here alone. So no-one will notice if we slip upstairs and start the year with a bang."
"Don't you mean the kind of smash that heralds a train wreck? Or maybe the sound of my fist connecting with your face. Although I think that might be more of a "thwap" sound. We should try it out and see."
"Mary, Mary. Lost the Christmas spirit so soon? You're not doing your namesake justice."
"My mother? I beg to differ," Rory murmured. She was distracted, having just reached the astounding conclusion that she was having a conversation with Tristan. Admittedly, it wasn't a friendly conversation, but that could change, and was compensated for by the fact that she hadn't had to start it. Did she want to have a friendly conversation with Tristan? Five minutes. Of course she did. She turned her attention back to him and smiled amiably.
**************************************************************************** *******
Rory was smiling; Tristan was scared. What was she up to now?
"Tristan. So. What are you doing here?"
He blinked in surprise, and his suspicion grew. Why was she being banal? Not to mention friendly. "What am I actually doing, what is the purpose of the party, or why am I attending?"
"Pick one."
"I'm here because my grandfather was proudly informed by yours that you'd be here, and I've been looking forward to seeing you quite as much as he has. Although I sincerely hope for different reasons." Which was true, even if Tristan would have gone anywhere with his grandfather, and Rory wouldn't believe he was telling the truth for a heartbeat. He couldn't blame her.
"Okay, and what are your thoughts on the deeper meaning of the New Year? Aside from it being a socially acceptable reason to drink too much, I mean. No, that's no good. And you're not multitasking, so that's out.. You're here with your grandfather?"
"Yeah. He's about here somewhere." Probably sneaking a cigar behind Tristan's back.
"I thought he was too sick to come out."
Tristan's face softened. "He was, but he's been feeling much better lately. He's able to get around well enough as long as he's not alone. He really wanted to come; he hasn't been out, socially I mean, in such a long time. Your grandmother is making such a fuss of him he must feel like a kid at Christmas. The last time I saw him, he was drinking brandy in the library with your grandfather, and discussing business, so I was graciously excused." He knew he was revealing too much, babbling, but he couldn't stop talking. Time for a change of subject.
"Sent packing." Rory grinned.
"Well, yes. Why are you here? Where's your mother?"
"At home, having a fun party. I came because Grandpa wanted me here, and Grandma was determined. She's a very good manipulator, because I am extremely hard to manipulate, but she managed it. It's not too bad though. I've only seen Grandpa twice, but Grandma's been too busy to introduce me to random strangers. Although that would have been helpful tonight."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Hmm. Did you see Paris?"
"I did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. It was once, but it's not anymore. She's just.."
"Stupid."
"Stupid?"
"Jealous."
"Jealous. There's no reason for her to be jealous. She has nothing to be afraid of; I'm not in competition with her."
Tristan forced a smile; it felt weak, but he knew it wouldn't look it. "You know she feels threatened by you. She thinks you're an evil usurper, who has come to Chilton expressly to prevent her from attaining her life's goal of becoming valedictorian."
Rory shifted uneasily, and dropped her gaze. "Right, valedictorian. I know that. It's just that, I thought she'd be over it by now. What does she want me to do, pretend to be stupid? It's boys that are supposed to want that, not girls."
Tristan opened his mouth to refute the accusation, but his reply was cut off by Emily calling the room to order.
"Everyone, please! The countdown is about to begin! First, I just want to thank you all for coming. It means so much to Richard and I to ring in the year with all of our dearest friends. May the next year bring you all the joy and prosperity you could wish for." Tristan moved up beside Rory until his shoulder was brushing hers, and listened as Emily began the countdown. "Now, it's almost time. Quiet, everyone. All right. now! Ten, nine, eight.."
Tristan chanted along with the crowd, and stared down at Rory as her lips moved soundlessly. It was traditional. He could kiss her, but he shouldn't, wouldn't. Wouldn't do that to himself.
"Three, two.."
Rory turned her face up to his, her lips parted, her eyes shining, looking so happy, and he found himself reaching out to touch her. Just touch her. Just a peck on the cheek, he thought hazily. Harmless. He felt his lips connect with hers, and cling. Waves of warmth tightened his body, and he began to slump towards her, draw her closer. He tried desperately to control himself, tried not to react to her. When he pulled away, he wasn't sure how successful he had been. Rory stared up at him, a puzzled look in her wide eyes, her cheeks as pink as her lips.
"Tristan!" He turned to see his grandfather beckoning.
"I better.. I have to go and see what he wants," he told Rory, gesturing toward the old man. He walked away, and didn't look back.