Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Zip. Nada. WAIT! Almost forgot…I do
own the plot!
Pairing: Rory and Tristan
Summary: um…ready for a little Trory banter? This chapter's chalk full of it!
Feedback: Pretty, pretty please? Aww….c'mon! This is my first fic! And I'd be eternally grateful, I swear! Just one little button….
[A/N ~~~ My first fic here! Not to mention, first attempt at Trory interaction! Let me know if I've got the character's right! ::fingers crossed:: hope you enjoy! And by the way, Tristan never left!]
[***IMPORTANT*** the first parts of this fic were told in the present. These next chapters are all flashbacks of the story behind the first chapters! (did that make any sense?!?!)]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ beginning of a long flashback ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rory sat outside the walls of her daily prison, contemplating the works of yet another classic author, oblivious to anything and everything around her. Her mind wandered along with the story, and she allowed herself to forget everything else. Until one voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Hey Mary, why so alone?" Tristan said as he straddled her bench, sitting next to her, and just a little too close.
Rory looked up from her book, already knowing all too well who she'd see when she did.
"Tristan." She spat back, her voice having the same edge that always seemed to make its appearance around a certain blonde Adonis.
//As if today wasn't already bad enough. //
"My, my, Mary" Tristan said, getting up and walking behind her. "I've never heard my name said with such lust, such passion. Just say the word, and I'm yours." His playful tone never faltering as he slid in next to her.
She'd come to except the name Mary, realizing the futileness of disowning it. However, today, she all but embraced the banter that would accompany it.
"Ugh…Tristan, did someone give you the impression that you're welcome here? Because that's certainly not the case." She said, closing her book and moving away from the picnic table.
Tristan grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. "Aww, Mary…. You and I both know that's not true. Why must you continue to torture yourself? Everything would be so much easier if you'd admit it. You love me." 'Both his eyes and smile flashed at the last statement.
"I know that's what you yearn to hear, but as much as you want it, this isn't one of those
wish-upon-a-star movies. I'll still dislike you as much as I always have, despite your deepest harbored desires." After relishing in his shocked expression, she turned to again make an exit, pulling her arm out of his grasp.
"Touchy today, are we? I know just the thing to lighten your mood." Quickening his pace, he dodged in front of her and swiveled so they were face to face, purposefully blocking her escape route with the aid of an oak tree.
" I can think of several things that would lighten my mood, but the one I have in mind requires hedge clippers, a letter opener, and your slow, painful demise." She wittily retorted, once again attempting escape, this time with resulting success, as she pushed past his arms and fled to the sidewalk.
"Funny, I never pegged you as the violent type." Tristan commented, catching up with her and following for a second time.
"I never pegged you as the annoying, persistent type, but yet, here we are" Rory extended her hands to emphasize the comment. With no answer, she continued "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Not really." Tristan stated simply "and even if I did, this is much more fun." He added, with a trademark smirk. "C'mon, what's one date going to hurt you?" Tristan wheedled, quickly diverting the conversation back to its intended purpose.
"You mean besides an evening of horrific torture and the irrepressible desire to commit a homicide?" She retorted, maintaining her serious guise throughout the obviously sarcastic answer.
"Of course…" he answered simply. "Those are a given...." he shrugged, making her statement seem completely normal. Then he continued,
"Honestly Mary, you can take one night away from your studies. I do it all the time, and I'm still at the top of the class." He stated, emphasizing the I and adding a smirk for good measure as he cut in front of her. He began to walk backwards, so he was facing her.
" …And we again welcome the egotistical, arrogant, self-absorbed chiltonee into the conversation." Rory turned and walked quickly away from her stalker. Finding him still in hot pursuit, she added, "Is it so hard to believe that I have something better to do with my night than spend it with you?"
"What could be better than spending a night with me?" Tristan haughtily replied, still on her tail, in spite of her efforts.
"Nearly anything." She said hastily " But if you have to know, I already have plans" she stated firmly, turning the corner.
Answering her matter-of-fact tone with mock surprise, Tristan inquired, "A date? Are you serious, Mary?" Finding her void of response, he continued, "with who, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I do mind." She said, turning another corner, all the while attempting to shake her unperturbed follower.
"Tell me anyhow, it was more rhetorical." He demanded, finding that she'd suddenly stopped her mad dash down the sidewalk and forced his feet to a stop, effectively doing the same.
"James, and how was that rhetorical?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"Care to specify, considering that there are thousands of people named James who grace this earth?" Tristan inquired with feigned charm, ignoring her question.
"Riley, if you must know" Rory sat on the enclosed bench, pulling out her book, A Midsummer night's Dream, yet again and setting it on her lap.
"Ah…James Whitcomb Riley? …where is Mary Alice Smith, the old soldier's story, dialect in literature…that James Riley?" Tristan, quite proud of his response, slide in beside her.
"Another surprise. Our Tristan, a bookworm. So you know of him?" she turned to look at him, with an expression of genuine interest.
Tristan turned serious "Yep. I'm full of surprises. You, of all people, should know that, Rory," he said as he held her face in his hands and brushed the soft pad of his thumb across her cheek.
[A/N ~~~ ::mwoahahahaha:: I thought that this would be a good place to stop. I'm gonna leave you guys guessing! Do you think she'll soften at his touch, or maintain her defensive sarcasm? Let me know what you think!
SPEACIAL THANKS to Ellie ( GG Groundhog Day, Fate, Strawberries) for her excellent help in editing this chapter!]
Pairing: Rory and Tristan
Summary: um…ready for a little Trory banter? This chapter's chalk full of it!
Feedback: Pretty, pretty please? Aww….c'mon! This is my first fic! And I'd be eternally grateful, I swear! Just one little button….
[A/N ~~~ My first fic here! Not to mention, first attempt at Trory interaction! Let me know if I've got the character's right! ::fingers crossed:: hope you enjoy! And by the way, Tristan never left!]
[***IMPORTANT*** the first parts of this fic were told in the present. These next chapters are all flashbacks of the story behind the first chapters! (did that make any sense?!?!)]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ beginning of a long flashback ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rory sat outside the walls of her daily prison, contemplating the works of yet another classic author, oblivious to anything and everything around her. Her mind wandered along with the story, and she allowed herself to forget everything else. Until one voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Hey Mary, why so alone?" Tristan said as he straddled her bench, sitting next to her, and just a little too close.
Rory looked up from her book, already knowing all too well who she'd see when she did.
"Tristan." She spat back, her voice having the same edge that always seemed to make its appearance around a certain blonde Adonis.
//As if today wasn't already bad enough. //
"My, my, Mary" Tristan said, getting up and walking behind her. "I've never heard my name said with such lust, such passion. Just say the word, and I'm yours." His playful tone never faltering as he slid in next to her.
She'd come to except the name Mary, realizing the futileness of disowning it. However, today, she all but embraced the banter that would accompany it.
"Ugh…Tristan, did someone give you the impression that you're welcome here? Because that's certainly not the case." She said, closing her book and moving away from the picnic table.
Tristan grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. "Aww, Mary…. You and I both know that's not true. Why must you continue to torture yourself? Everything would be so much easier if you'd admit it. You love me." 'Both his eyes and smile flashed at the last statement.
"I know that's what you yearn to hear, but as much as you want it, this isn't one of those
wish-upon-a-star movies. I'll still dislike you as much as I always have, despite your deepest harbored desires." After relishing in his shocked expression, she turned to again make an exit, pulling her arm out of his grasp.
"Touchy today, are we? I know just the thing to lighten your mood." Quickening his pace, he dodged in front of her and swiveled so they were face to face, purposefully blocking her escape route with the aid of an oak tree.
" I can think of several things that would lighten my mood, but the one I have in mind requires hedge clippers, a letter opener, and your slow, painful demise." She wittily retorted, once again attempting escape, this time with resulting success, as she pushed past his arms and fled to the sidewalk.
"Funny, I never pegged you as the violent type." Tristan commented, catching up with her and following for a second time.
"I never pegged you as the annoying, persistent type, but yet, here we are" Rory extended her hands to emphasize the comment. With no answer, she continued "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Not really." Tristan stated simply "and even if I did, this is much more fun." He added, with a trademark smirk. "C'mon, what's one date going to hurt you?" Tristan wheedled, quickly diverting the conversation back to its intended purpose.
"You mean besides an evening of horrific torture and the irrepressible desire to commit a homicide?" She retorted, maintaining her serious guise throughout the obviously sarcastic answer.
"Of course…" he answered simply. "Those are a given...." he shrugged, making her statement seem completely normal. Then he continued,
"Honestly Mary, you can take one night away from your studies. I do it all the time, and I'm still at the top of the class." He stated, emphasizing the I and adding a smirk for good measure as he cut in front of her. He began to walk backwards, so he was facing her.
" …And we again welcome the egotistical, arrogant, self-absorbed chiltonee into the conversation." Rory turned and walked quickly away from her stalker. Finding him still in hot pursuit, she added, "Is it so hard to believe that I have something better to do with my night than spend it with you?"
"What could be better than spending a night with me?" Tristan haughtily replied, still on her tail, in spite of her efforts.
"Nearly anything." She said hastily " But if you have to know, I already have plans" she stated firmly, turning the corner.
Answering her matter-of-fact tone with mock surprise, Tristan inquired, "A date? Are you serious, Mary?" Finding her void of response, he continued, "with who, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I do mind." She said, turning another corner, all the while attempting to shake her unperturbed follower.
"Tell me anyhow, it was more rhetorical." He demanded, finding that she'd suddenly stopped her mad dash down the sidewalk and forced his feet to a stop, effectively doing the same.
"James, and how was that rhetorical?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"Care to specify, considering that there are thousands of people named James who grace this earth?" Tristan inquired with feigned charm, ignoring her question.
"Riley, if you must know" Rory sat on the enclosed bench, pulling out her book, A Midsummer night's Dream, yet again and setting it on her lap.
"Ah…James Whitcomb Riley? …where is Mary Alice Smith, the old soldier's story, dialect in literature…that James Riley?" Tristan, quite proud of his response, slide in beside her.
"Another surprise. Our Tristan, a bookworm. So you know of him?" she turned to look at him, with an expression of genuine interest.
Tristan turned serious "Yep. I'm full of surprises. You, of all people, should know that, Rory," he said as he held her face in his hands and brushed the soft pad of his thumb across her cheek.
[A/N ~~~ ::mwoahahahaha:: I thought that this would be a good place to stop. I'm gonna leave you guys guessing! Do you think she'll soften at his touch, or maintain her defensive sarcasm? Let me know what you think!
SPEACIAL THANKS to Ellie ( GG Groundhog Day, Fate, Strawberries) for her excellent help in editing this chapter!]