Leaves
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Sequel? Or are you all sick of this story?
Author's Note: A thousand million thank-yous to Rianna; I never would have finished this without her help. Unresolved sub-plots. Yes. That's why the sequel option is up above. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed; if you hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered to finish.
*****
Rory shuffled impatiently away from Jess. She wasn't sure if he was a really bad dancer, or if he was just trying to cop a feel; either way, she felt like smacking him one.
Tristan hadn't come. He should have been here an hour ago, but he hadn't shown up yet. She had resorted to asking the staff to let her know when he arrived. If he wasn't somewhere else, doing - funner things with Louise.
She fell forward onto Jess again, and hauled herself off his chest, grimacing at him, hoping it looked enough like a smile to satisfy him. It seemed to.
"So. You survived."
"Oh, yeah." Her eyes swept the room again. Even if Tristan didn't come, if Louise did, that would be something. Jess was talking. "Hmm?"
"Ohh..." He trailed off, frowning down at her. "It doesn't matter, it wasn't important. Are you having a good time?"
"Well, as good as can be expected."
"Because you don't like anyone here."
"No. Except Paris, sometimes. And I'm not sure if Madeline is here."
"You don't like anyone else who would come."
This time, she could tell he was pulling her close on purpose. "Well, no."
"You're a terrible liar." Closer.
She pulled away again. "Jess-- Please."
"You don't want me to do that. Right." His grip was hurting her, but she didn't know what to say to him. He was her friend; she didn't want to push him away. He clutched her, groping for words. "Why not?"
"I just--I just don't."
"I thought you did."
"Things change. Hey, soon enough you'll probably be my step-cousin."
"But that's not a--" His eagerness faded. "That's not the reason why."
"No."
"That's the reason why."
"What?"
He nodded over her shoulder. "There."
She spun around, hardly aware of the painful pressure of Jess' fingers. Tristan was standing in the doorway, conversing with some old man, alone. She turned back around. "Jess--"
He released her. "I'll be by the punch-bowl. If things don't work out."
He strode away; she looked after him for a second, before her eyes returned anxiously to Tristan. He was in the same position, but with her grandmother now. Steeling herself, she moved determinedly towards them.
"Hey, Grandma."
"Rory! Why aren't you mingling? All your friends are here. Enjoy yourself, dear, you deserve it. Here's Tristan. Tristan, don't let her hide in a corner, will you? I have to...." She bustled away to greet a new arrival.
Rory twisted her lips into a smile; Tristan nodded coolly. "Hey, you made it."
"Sorry I'm late."
"Where's Louise?"
"Somewhere around. Why?"
"Oh, I was just.... Can we talk?"
"Aren't we?"
She rolled her eyes, grabbing his sleeve, and dragging him into the hall. The chatter of the crowd was still audible, so she made for the passage that led to the kitchen. None of the guests would use that.
"Care to tell me what you're doing?"
"I just thought--okay. You're going out with Louise?"
"In the way that that term is generally applied to me, yes." He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Oh. Oh, because I thought, um--" If she had known it would be this difficult she would have stayed with Jess. "Well. I thought maybe you could not."
"Not the right type of girl? Neither is Paris. I suppose Madeline might be a nice medium between the two, but I don't think I could bring myself to--"
"That's not what I mean."
"No?" She had his attention now.
"No."
"What do you--" A waitress hurried past them. Tristan cursed, dragging Rory to the nearest door. It was a cloakroom; he pushed her into the furthest corner, shielded by the racks of thick, soft coats. "What do you mean, Rory?"
Nothing. "Well, I wasn't going to suggest someone else for you to date. Well I sort of was, but--"
"But?"
"But not in the way you think." She looked at him expectantly, but he just stared back at her. "All right. I wasn't going to suggest you date anyone else."
"But you just said-- Oh, for God's sake, Rory, just spit it out!"
"Iwasgoingtosaythatmaybewecoulddosomethingsometime."
"Okay. Good. You've said it. Now, come again?"
"You know, if you and Louise aren't serious, maybe we could grab a burger some time." The silence thickened until she twitched under its weight. "Okay, I have to get back--" His hand flew to her arm as she attempted to push past him.
"No, wait. Even if Louise and I were, ah, serious, we could still do that. Because we're just friends."
"Well, that's the thing. I was thinking maybe we couldn't be friends."
"You don't want to be my friend."
"No. Yes. Wait, I mean, just friends. I think you'd be a nice friend, and if you say no, I'd still like to be friends with you, even though you'll probably never see me again, because I'll have transferred to Alaska. Or maybe Serbia."
"Wait, stop. Oh, God." He took a step backwards, stumbling into a metal coat rack; lost for words, she followed.
Hooking an arm around his neck, she pulled herself up, finding his lips with hers. She moved against him softly, trying to coax a response from him. After a few seconds that stretched endlessly, as he remained motionless, she admitted defeat, backing away.
Fur brushed her cheek; his tongue stroked hers. She clutched at his chest, both of them struggling to stay upright. Coats knocked off-balance by his impulsive rush forward tumbled to the floor, and they gave up the fight, sinking down on top of the sliding heap. She was on her back, slipping about on the shifting pile of cloth; he was attacking her mouth, cheeks, throat. She held him off to catch her breath.
"So is that a yes?"
"Mmm." His weight bore her down, his lips travelling slowly to her ear. "You know, I really don't like burgers."
"Well, you can choose."
"Starbucks?"
"No!"
His breath puffed out in silent laughter as he moved back to her mouth. "Well, not Luke's. I don't think Jess would appreciate the gesture."
"No. You know we're creasing coats that cost more than my mother's car."
"Not as much as we're creasing your dress. There's no way you can go back out there like this."
She sighed in satisfaction. "Good. I want to stay right here."
END
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Sequel? Or are you all sick of this story?
Author's Note: A thousand million thank-yous to Rianna; I never would have finished this without her help. Unresolved sub-plots. Yes. That's why the sequel option is up above. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed; if you hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered to finish.
*****
Rory shuffled impatiently away from Jess. She wasn't sure if he was a really bad dancer, or if he was just trying to cop a feel; either way, she felt like smacking him one.
Tristan hadn't come. He should have been here an hour ago, but he hadn't shown up yet. She had resorted to asking the staff to let her know when he arrived. If he wasn't somewhere else, doing - funner things with Louise.
She fell forward onto Jess again, and hauled herself off his chest, grimacing at him, hoping it looked enough like a smile to satisfy him. It seemed to.
"So. You survived."
"Oh, yeah." Her eyes swept the room again. Even if Tristan didn't come, if Louise did, that would be something. Jess was talking. "Hmm?"
"Ohh..." He trailed off, frowning down at her. "It doesn't matter, it wasn't important. Are you having a good time?"
"Well, as good as can be expected."
"Because you don't like anyone here."
"No. Except Paris, sometimes. And I'm not sure if Madeline is here."
"You don't like anyone else who would come."
This time, she could tell he was pulling her close on purpose. "Well, no."
"You're a terrible liar." Closer.
She pulled away again. "Jess-- Please."
"You don't want me to do that. Right." His grip was hurting her, but she didn't know what to say to him. He was her friend; she didn't want to push him away. He clutched her, groping for words. "Why not?"
"I just--I just don't."
"I thought you did."
"Things change. Hey, soon enough you'll probably be my step-cousin."
"But that's not a--" His eagerness faded. "That's not the reason why."
"No."
"That's the reason why."
"What?"
He nodded over her shoulder. "There."
She spun around, hardly aware of the painful pressure of Jess' fingers. Tristan was standing in the doorway, conversing with some old man, alone. She turned back around. "Jess--"
He released her. "I'll be by the punch-bowl. If things don't work out."
He strode away; she looked after him for a second, before her eyes returned anxiously to Tristan. He was in the same position, but with her grandmother now. Steeling herself, she moved determinedly towards them.
"Hey, Grandma."
"Rory! Why aren't you mingling? All your friends are here. Enjoy yourself, dear, you deserve it. Here's Tristan. Tristan, don't let her hide in a corner, will you? I have to...." She bustled away to greet a new arrival.
Rory twisted her lips into a smile; Tristan nodded coolly. "Hey, you made it."
"Sorry I'm late."
"Where's Louise?"
"Somewhere around. Why?"
"Oh, I was just.... Can we talk?"
"Aren't we?"
She rolled her eyes, grabbing his sleeve, and dragging him into the hall. The chatter of the crowd was still audible, so she made for the passage that led to the kitchen. None of the guests would use that.
"Care to tell me what you're doing?"
"I just thought--okay. You're going out with Louise?"
"In the way that that term is generally applied to me, yes." He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Oh. Oh, because I thought, um--" If she had known it would be this difficult she would have stayed with Jess. "Well. I thought maybe you could not."
"Not the right type of girl? Neither is Paris. I suppose Madeline might be a nice medium between the two, but I don't think I could bring myself to--"
"That's not what I mean."
"No?" She had his attention now.
"No."
"What do you--" A waitress hurried past them. Tristan cursed, dragging Rory to the nearest door. It was a cloakroom; he pushed her into the furthest corner, shielded by the racks of thick, soft coats. "What do you mean, Rory?"
Nothing. "Well, I wasn't going to suggest someone else for you to date. Well I sort of was, but--"
"But?"
"But not in the way you think." She looked at him expectantly, but he just stared back at her. "All right. I wasn't going to suggest you date anyone else."
"But you just said-- Oh, for God's sake, Rory, just spit it out!"
"Iwasgoingtosaythatmaybewecoulddosomethingsometime."
"Okay. Good. You've said it. Now, come again?"
"You know, if you and Louise aren't serious, maybe we could grab a burger some time." The silence thickened until she twitched under its weight. "Okay, I have to get back--" His hand flew to her arm as she attempted to push past him.
"No, wait. Even if Louise and I were, ah, serious, we could still do that. Because we're just friends."
"Well, that's the thing. I was thinking maybe we couldn't be friends."
"You don't want to be my friend."
"No. Yes. Wait, I mean, just friends. I think you'd be a nice friend, and if you say no, I'd still like to be friends with you, even though you'll probably never see me again, because I'll have transferred to Alaska. Or maybe Serbia."
"Wait, stop. Oh, God." He took a step backwards, stumbling into a metal coat rack; lost for words, she followed.
Hooking an arm around his neck, she pulled herself up, finding his lips with hers. She moved against him softly, trying to coax a response from him. After a few seconds that stretched endlessly, as he remained motionless, she admitted defeat, backing away.
Fur brushed her cheek; his tongue stroked hers. She clutched at his chest, both of them struggling to stay upright. Coats knocked off-balance by his impulsive rush forward tumbled to the floor, and they gave up the fight, sinking down on top of the sliding heap. She was on her back, slipping about on the shifting pile of cloth; he was attacking her mouth, cheeks, throat. She held him off to catch her breath.
"So is that a yes?"
"Mmm." His weight bore her down, his lips travelling slowly to her ear. "You know, I really don't like burgers."
"Well, you can choose."
"Starbucks?"
"No!"
His breath puffed out in silent laughter as he moved back to her mouth. "Well, not Luke's. I don't think Jess would appreciate the gesture."
"No. You know we're creasing coats that cost more than my mother's car."
"Not as much as we're creasing your dress. There's no way you can go back out there like this."
She sighed in satisfaction. "Good. I want to stay right here."
END