Glass Slippers

Summary: He told himself it was the polite thing to do. That's all it was, right? Seth/Marissa

Disclaimer: If I owned this show I wouldn't be up at 2:00 in the morning eating tootsie rolls while writing fan fiction. T'ain't mine.

Author's Note-

So, here I am embarking on my first fan fiction endeavor. Many of you will hate it. Those who don't I would love to hear from you, but I'll take whatever comes. No worries- I can take flames. Just spell all your expletives correctly, please. Now let's roll!

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Marissa had been through a lot. Bitchy mothers, backstabbing friends, cheating boyfriends and suicide attempts. None of that, however, was quite as intimidating as having to make your entrance into the biggest party of the year alone- unescorted. She could practically feel the guests' beady little eyes giving her the once-over as she descended the long staircase.

Wasn't she dating a yard guy?

What about that delinquent who burned down Caleb Nichol's model house?

Doesn't she have anybody?

The gossip and rumors were already flying. God, if she could just make it through this one night and walk away with some of her dignity intact it'd be a miracle. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ryan and Lindsay pawing at each other and giggling over a private joke. Not that she noticed, of course. Ryan was long gone by now, and she knew it. Still, there was a little . . . sadness left over when she thought about what they had. It would have helped if he hadn't knocked his ex-girlfriend up and she hadn't let DJ, er, "water her lawn".

Nearing the end of the stairs the whispers started to increase.

Steady now. She thought. Just stay for a few dances then get in your car and gun it.

It was then that she saw someone coming to meet her at the last step.

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Seth hadn't been having a particularly stellar evening either. Couldn't get a drink, no available seats, and now he had the privilege of seeing Summer, Zach, and the Roberts patriarch living large while they planned the family tree.

Might as well head on out. Nothing left to see here.

He was wrong as usual.

Seth hadn't made it two steps towards the door when the latest arrival to the party began to glide down the stairs. Not walk. Glide. Like an angel.

He'd always known that Marissa Cooper was a member of the elite "wear-a-burlap-sack-and-still-look-completely-gorgeous" club, but he had never seen such convincing proof until tonight. And she certainly wasn't wearing a burlap sack.

He stood, frozen, unsure of what to do, until he saw another guy slick his hair back and make for the staircase.

The hell you do. He thought. In a few long strides he was there, pushing the other jerk back while extending a gentlemanly hand to a very surprised Marissa.

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She took his hand. It was large and square, his skin cool and dry beneath hers.

It's a miracle. Somebody call Guinness, or Ripley's, or maybe even the Pope. I might just make it out of here in one piece, thanks to this bizarre twist of fate.

Seth was definitely the last guy she expected to come to her rescue. Sweet, dorky, quippy Seth who used to live next door to her was now her official savior. And he was looking at her strangely. All soft and kind and amazed. He might as well have been in love with her.

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She looked incredible. Gentle and sad and grateful. Leading her down into the crowd he couldn't stop himself from stealing glances at her although he knew she wouldn't appreciate a wandering eye.

The tittering of the guests had reached a buzz so annoying that Seth had clench his hands at his sides in order to prevent himself from swatting away the bugs he imagined were circling his head. He could see Marissa grinning softly, well accustomed to her neighbors' nosy habits.

There's nothing going on here. I'm just doing the polite thing. Like they used to say in manners education; NEVER let a lady enter unattended. I'm just here for my lady. Except that she isn't mine.

No, she was Ryan's girl. Always had been and probably always would be. There wasn't much sense in trying. Then she reached over and adjusted his tie, softly grazing his throat with her fingertips. She must have noticed when he stopped breathing for that moment. Wrapping her arm around his again they strolled slowly away from the group and headed for a small, quiet garden at the back of the yard.