Title: A Wrinkle in Time
Author: Crimson Coin Crimson_Coin@yahoo.com
Rating: Varies by chapter ... we'll place PG13 to R and then NC 17 when noted.
Spoilers: Not much really.
Summery: Moments from the lives of multiple couples highlighted.
TimeLine: starts in the summer of 2002. NOBODY was injured.
Pairings: Jeff/Lita. Jericho/Trish. Christian/Torrie. Edge/Stephanie
Disclaimer: I'm working on owning something, but it sure as hell ain't the WWE
Archiving: You are more then welcome, just give me credit.
+++ Chris Jericho stood at the docks on the South Carolina shoreline. He remembered that Trish spent a lot of money on this summer home. She actually paid a good three million dollars to buy one of those small islands off the coast. Nothing big really, just a house on an island. Some vegetation and things like that, absolutely beautiful four-bedroom home. She loved it so much.
He sighed, turning to the man on his left. "Look, I know Trish Stratus lives right there. I'm her boyfriend. Chris? Did she mention me at all? I really need to see her. Can I rent a boat?"
The grey haired man shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. She specifically told me 'no visitors'."
Chris clenched his jaw in frustration, but it quickly defused. "Do you have a zip lock bag?"
The older man furrowed his brow, reaching under the counter and handing the blonde a bag. "Here yah go, son. But what do you need that for?"
Chris checked his watch. 10AM, then he removed his wallet, dropping it and the watch into the bag, then sealed it. "I have spent almost ten weeks looking for her. Now that I've found her ... a little bit of water is not keeping me from her." He bit down on his wallet, saluted the man, then charged and dove off the docks.
The old man laughed, calling, "Go get her, boy!"
And that's just what Jericho did, swam the span. It took him five or six hours, he was sore as hell, thirsty as anything, freezing cold and he only had so little left to go. He could see the shore. He swallowed the pain in his muscles, and that jellyfish sting on his calf. Almost there.
Close enough to the shore, he saw her, standing on the beach, watching him with wide eyes. He crawled up the shore, using every bit of strength to just keep going. He had to keep going. He saw her eyes on him, her mouth a jar. She was barefoot in jeans and a tee shirt and she was just standing there ... staring at him. "Trish," he half moaned, half breathed. He collapsed into the surf.
Trish was at his side instantly, taking the zip lock bag from his hand and tossing it further up the shore. She rolled him over, hooking her hands under his arms and pulling him a little more out of the waves. But he was too heavy, and she just fell to her knees, cradling his head in her lap to keep the water away from his face. "Chris?"
"I found you." He choked out. "It took me ... so long ... but ..." He coughed. "I found you." He reached up, his hand shaky as he touched her cheek. "I found you."
He let out a moan, his body tense and his eyes fluttered as he twitched violently. Her eyes skimmed his body quickly. Ripped shirt, torso and arms fine, shorts, calf ... sting. Oh God. "Chris, don't you pass out on me. No." She slapped his face a few times. "Come on, wake up."
He forced his eyes open and she pulled him up. "Wha ..."
"We're going inside." She forced out and grunted as she did everything to lift him. "Let's go. It's not that far." She supported most of his weight, combination of exhaustion and that sting making him virtually helpless. "Almost ... there." She pushed through the screen door, and dropped him onto the couch. Rushing into the kitchen, she returned with a large bowl of cold water and a towel. "Chris?" nothing. "Christopher!"
His eyes opened again, and he licked his lips. "Love ... you."
"Don't you black out on me, Christopher." She wiped his face, down his chest, re-dip then back to his face. But it was too late. Jericho passed out.
+++
Chris opened his eyes, blinking a few times and looking around. It was near dusk, the setting sun quite prominently shining through the sliding glass doors. He could see Trish standing outside those doors on the balcony, overlooking the water. Determined to meet with her, he stood. But his muscles so over exerted, he couldn't support his own weight, and he toppled over ... right onto and through her coffee table.
Trish jumped at the loud crash and she quickly spun, her eyes widening as she raced into the house. "Chris?" Shock remained on her face at the sight of him sprawled in the broken pieces of her table. "What ... what in the hell are you doing?"
He winced. "Ok. So it's not really my day."
"And from the looks of it, not my furniture, either."
"I'm sorry." He said, lowly. She grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet but he quickly lost his balance, falling towards her.
"Easy there." She whispered, putting a hand on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.
A shy blush rose to his cheeks as he flopped back onto the couch. "Uhm ... thanks."
"Now ... don't ... move." She commanded. He watched her clear up the broken coffee table, throwing the pieces over the balcony railing and onto the sand. Eventually, she had the room clear and returned to his side, kneeling down by his head. "Are you any better?" She put her hands on his head, turning one way then the next, then using a delicate touch to open his eyes a little wider and look right through him. "How you feeling? Wait right here."
Chris swallowed hard as she walked away. And not a few minutes later, she returned with a basin, a towel and some clean bandages. She knelt at his legs, running her fingers over his bandaged sting. He licked his lips. "You ... you're not going to kick me out, are you?"
Void of emotion, she shook her head. "No, I'm not going to kick you out. Now just sit still. It's going to hurt to change this bandage."
Chris's eyes widened, his teeth clenched as she peeled away the old bandaged and he let out a hiss as the last bit took some of his skin with it. He bit his lip.
"I'm sorry." She muttered softly, gathering the wet ace bandage and re- wrapping his calf again. Carefully tucking the corner, she stood.
But Chris grabbed her hand, his eyes pleading when she looked at him coldly. He licked his lips again, his nerves making tiny beads of sweat form on his forehead. "Forgive me." He sat up then, with slight difficulty. "Please."
She showed no response but placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down onto his back. "Lay down. Save you strength."
"No." He insisted, sitting up again and taking her hand with both of his. "No, please listen to me. I never was using you. And I know my reputation doesn't say much to back me up, but I ... I'm telling you the truth. I wasn't planning on using you. I ... I love you. I really do, I swear it."
Trish looked away, pulling her hand from his and walking into the kitchen. "I'm going to make us something for supper."
Chris felt pain.
*** Alright, this is a little short. BUT ... the next part is the final straw – and it's a long –part. So will Chris and Trish be able to work out their differences after dinner? Hopefully, I'll post it soon. ***
Author: Crimson Coin Crimson_Coin@yahoo.com
Rating: Varies by chapter ... we'll place PG13 to R and then NC 17 when noted.
Spoilers: Not much really.
Summery: Moments from the lives of multiple couples highlighted.
TimeLine: starts in the summer of 2002. NOBODY was injured.
Pairings: Jeff/Lita. Jericho/Trish. Christian/Torrie. Edge/Stephanie
Disclaimer: I'm working on owning something, but it sure as hell ain't the WWE
Archiving: You are more then welcome, just give me credit.
+++ Chris Jericho stood at the docks on the South Carolina shoreline. He remembered that Trish spent a lot of money on this summer home. She actually paid a good three million dollars to buy one of those small islands off the coast. Nothing big really, just a house on an island. Some vegetation and things like that, absolutely beautiful four-bedroom home. She loved it so much.
He sighed, turning to the man on his left. "Look, I know Trish Stratus lives right there. I'm her boyfriend. Chris? Did she mention me at all? I really need to see her. Can I rent a boat?"
The grey haired man shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. She specifically told me 'no visitors'."
Chris clenched his jaw in frustration, but it quickly defused. "Do you have a zip lock bag?"
The older man furrowed his brow, reaching under the counter and handing the blonde a bag. "Here yah go, son. But what do you need that for?"
Chris checked his watch. 10AM, then he removed his wallet, dropping it and the watch into the bag, then sealed it. "I have spent almost ten weeks looking for her. Now that I've found her ... a little bit of water is not keeping me from her." He bit down on his wallet, saluted the man, then charged and dove off the docks.
The old man laughed, calling, "Go get her, boy!"
And that's just what Jericho did, swam the span. It took him five or six hours, he was sore as hell, thirsty as anything, freezing cold and he only had so little left to go. He could see the shore. He swallowed the pain in his muscles, and that jellyfish sting on his calf. Almost there.
Close enough to the shore, he saw her, standing on the beach, watching him with wide eyes. He crawled up the shore, using every bit of strength to just keep going. He had to keep going. He saw her eyes on him, her mouth a jar. She was barefoot in jeans and a tee shirt and she was just standing there ... staring at him. "Trish," he half moaned, half breathed. He collapsed into the surf.
Trish was at his side instantly, taking the zip lock bag from his hand and tossing it further up the shore. She rolled him over, hooking her hands under his arms and pulling him a little more out of the waves. But he was too heavy, and she just fell to her knees, cradling his head in her lap to keep the water away from his face. "Chris?"
"I found you." He choked out. "It took me ... so long ... but ..." He coughed. "I found you." He reached up, his hand shaky as he touched her cheek. "I found you."
He let out a moan, his body tense and his eyes fluttered as he twitched violently. Her eyes skimmed his body quickly. Ripped shirt, torso and arms fine, shorts, calf ... sting. Oh God. "Chris, don't you pass out on me. No." She slapped his face a few times. "Come on, wake up."
He forced his eyes open and she pulled him up. "Wha ..."
"We're going inside." She forced out and grunted as she did everything to lift him. "Let's go. It's not that far." She supported most of his weight, combination of exhaustion and that sting making him virtually helpless. "Almost ... there." She pushed through the screen door, and dropped him onto the couch. Rushing into the kitchen, she returned with a large bowl of cold water and a towel. "Chris?" nothing. "Christopher!"
His eyes opened again, and he licked his lips. "Love ... you."
"Don't you black out on me, Christopher." She wiped his face, down his chest, re-dip then back to his face. But it was too late. Jericho passed out.
+++
Chris opened his eyes, blinking a few times and looking around. It was near dusk, the setting sun quite prominently shining through the sliding glass doors. He could see Trish standing outside those doors on the balcony, overlooking the water. Determined to meet with her, he stood. But his muscles so over exerted, he couldn't support his own weight, and he toppled over ... right onto and through her coffee table.
Trish jumped at the loud crash and she quickly spun, her eyes widening as she raced into the house. "Chris?" Shock remained on her face at the sight of him sprawled in the broken pieces of her table. "What ... what in the hell are you doing?"
He winced. "Ok. So it's not really my day."
"And from the looks of it, not my furniture, either."
"I'm sorry." He said, lowly. She grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet but he quickly lost his balance, falling towards her.
"Easy there." She whispered, putting a hand on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.
A shy blush rose to his cheeks as he flopped back onto the couch. "Uhm ... thanks."
"Now ... don't ... move." She commanded. He watched her clear up the broken coffee table, throwing the pieces over the balcony railing and onto the sand. Eventually, she had the room clear and returned to his side, kneeling down by his head. "Are you any better?" She put her hands on his head, turning one way then the next, then using a delicate touch to open his eyes a little wider and look right through him. "How you feeling? Wait right here."
Chris swallowed hard as she walked away. And not a few minutes later, she returned with a basin, a towel and some clean bandages. She knelt at his legs, running her fingers over his bandaged sting. He licked his lips. "You ... you're not going to kick me out, are you?"
Void of emotion, she shook her head. "No, I'm not going to kick you out. Now just sit still. It's going to hurt to change this bandage."
Chris's eyes widened, his teeth clenched as she peeled away the old bandaged and he let out a hiss as the last bit took some of his skin with it. He bit his lip.
"I'm sorry." She muttered softly, gathering the wet ace bandage and re- wrapping his calf again. Carefully tucking the corner, she stood.
But Chris grabbed her hand, his eyes pleading when she looked at him coldly. He licked his lips again, his nerves making tiny beads of sweat form on his forehead. "Forgive me." He sat up then, with slight difficulty. "Please."
She showed no response but placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down onto his back. "Lay down. Save you strength."
"No." He insisted, sitting up again and taking her hand with both of his. "No, please listen to me. I never was using you. And I know my reputation doesn't say much to back me up, but I ... I'm telling you the truth. I wasn't planning on using you. I ... I love you. I really do, I swear it."
Trish looked away, pulling her hand from his and walking into the kitchen. "I'm going to make us something for supper."
Chris felt pain.
*** Alright, this is a little short. BUT ... the next part is the final straw – and it's a long –part. So will Chris and Trish be able to work out their differences after dinner? Hopefully, I'll post it soon. ***