Author: GrapeSmshr
Coupling: RoryTristin
Rated: T
Posted on: 4-21-05
Thanks to: otownroxx, my lovely sis (who is a full-on Literati and still finds it in her heart to beta other ships for me)
A/N: Woohoo, I wrote another one! Ok, so I'm fickle... Or maybe I'm just greedy. The more Tristin, the better, right? I know this is super short, but there's plenty more where that came from... So without further ado, read on and enjoy!
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Chapter 1: Gimme a T!
"Would you hurry up already?" Tristin Dugrey grunted, locking his hands together more tightly.
"I'm trying!" came the annoyed reply from Rory Gilmore. "These boxes aren't labeled, so I have to dig through them individually."
"Can't you just pull them down?"
"Sure. My bodybuilding self will easily slide the fifty-pound box off the shelf and toss it back up there when we're done with it."
Even though he couldn't see her face, Tristin could feel the eye-roll. Gritting his teeth, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other in an effort to alleviate some of the pain coursing through his straining arms. Rory wasn't heavy by any means, but he could only support her full weight in his braced hands for so long. Damned upscale, pretentious private school. Even the supply closet had high-shelved vaulted ceilings. Couldn't they have put colored printing paper on the lower shelves so that he wouldn't have to boost Rory up? He bit his lip to keep from retorting as her heels twisted painfully in his palms.
"All right, I can't find any. Bring me down, please." Rory twisted around and looked down at him just in time to see the devious smirk. She was then launched into the air in a cheerleading fashion and spun around to where she landed soundly in Tristin's arms, causing him to stumble back as he cradled her protectively to him.
They were both breathing harshly, bodies pressed flush against each other, faces mere centimeters apart. Only the sound of gasping air was heard in the tiny closet, until-
"Ouch!" Tristin cried as he released his hold on Rory and clutched at his injured calf. He would no doubt have one hell of a bruise. She may be tiny, but she could kick like she was aiming for a field goal.
"You jerk!" she screamed, pausing just briefly to relish in the satisfaction of causing him pain. He was doubled over, inspecting the spot on his calf which had started to purple, mouth twisted into a scowl, eyes narrowed in pain. A minuscule part of her settled with guilt and concern. But she was never one to be sidetracked, especially after her gravity-defying acrobatics. "You could have dropped me!" she continued ranting, flailing her arms about, barely missing smacking him in the forehead. "I could have landed on my head and gotten a concussion and possibly amnesia! What if I had forgotten about my mother? Or my coffee? Do you know how upset I would be if I forgot about coffee?"
"Not at all, because you wouldn't remember liking it in the first place. Besides, I'm the injured party here," he complained, letting out a pitiful moan to help emphasize his point.
"Oh, it's nothing a simple lobotomy wouldn't help," she retorted, hands on her hips as she glared at him. "You know what, we don't need colored paper for this stupid project. We'll just use plain paper. It's not like we'll be getting much done, anyway. What was he thinking, pairing us up for a project?" Rory muttered to herself, her words reaching Tristin's ears due to the echo in the closet.
"I don't know, maybe that we would work together so well that we would fall madly in love?" Tristin asked, voice dripping honeyed sarcasm as he leered at her.
"If loves means immense discord, then he was dead-on," Rory shot back in a matching tone, pushing a strand of unruly hair behind her ear in frustration.
"Whatever kink you're into is fine by me," Tristin shrugged with a smirk. "I'm always up for a little role-playing. I'll be the suave, handsome lead, and you can be my irresistible but hard-to-get love interest. Oh wait, that's real life"
Rory only rolled her eyes yet again, biting back on a retort. She knew when to quit exchanging quips with him. It was like arguing with her mother: Rory could state her point a thousand times, but Lorelai would always find a way to twist the point in her favor. Tristin was much like that, except he added a raunchy innuendo to everything she said.
Sighing in irritation, Rory said crossly, "Let's just go back to the classroom." She turned the doorknob and pushed, but the door didn't budge. She pushed again. And again, and again, but still no luck. "It won't open," she said in disbelief.
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Hahaha! So who here wouldn't give her right arm to be trapped in a closet with CMM? Oh, the possibilities! And you'll definitely be seeing some of those possibilities... Please review! I love reviews like I love the CMM button I made. Believe me, that's a lot of love. Hell, I'm just happy that you even read this! So thanks bunches, and I'll see ya next chapter!