"So your mom called today for the umpteenth time" he said as he came up to the bar, surprising her."
"Good afternoon to you too, sir. What can I get you?" she ignored his comment playfully, wearing her waitress smile.
"I thought you two were talking" he pointed out, smiling.
"We are" she brushed him off, not wanting to talk about the subject.
"Why does she feel the need to rant to me about Christmas festivals and how Kirk usually dresses up as baby Jesus?" he asked, not convinced.
"I... might have told her we're not coming for Christmas" she murmured, busying herself with cleaning the table.
"Oookay?" he said, no doubt surprised to hear this "Did we talk about this? Was I out stone drunk again?" he joked.
"Yeah, and Keith Richards called to see if you have his headband" she played along.
"Am I going to have to lock you into a room to get you guys to be on good terms again?" he asked, exhausted.
"Me and Keith? Yeah, that might be your only hope" she went on with the joke.
"No. You and your mom. I thought you two settled things" he tried again, his voice smaller.
"Yeah. I called her, we bantered, things are peachy" she said, still not wanting to talk about it.
"Why am I not convinced?" he asked with a warm smile.
"Look, I don't want the awkwardness, okay? What is the conversation going to go like? Tris, how is your latest case coming along? It's fine, working a lot, but I might have found a loophole to get the bastards out of their 5 million dollar debt. Ahh, good for you, good for them too. Yes, yes. And what about you, Rory? How is the coffee business going? It's going fine, mom. Yeah, it is going well for Luke too. Good to hear it. You two should trade serving secrets. Real subtle mom. Subtle? What do you mean? You just couldn't wait to throw in a hidden accusation in there, could you? How is that an accusation? Whatever mom. Don't whatever me. Whatever. Stop it. No, you stop it" she ranted noticing that Tristan had been staring at her with mouth agape.
"Uhm... you just had an argument with yourself" he said, amused.
"Not the point" she groaned.
"Seriously, you should perform this on stage. Very entertaining" he went on, smirking.
"Look, you have work anyways, and I love New York at Christmas" she reasoned.
"I hate New York at Christmas" he countered.
"You hate everything at Christmas, you hate Christmas" she sighed.
"Right" he agreed.
"But you'll just hole up in the office and come home when you're done and I'll wear a mistletoe on my panties" she said, smiling brilliantly.
He was once again left staring.
"Breathe?" she chuckled.
"Right" he said, inhaling deeply as if trying to clear his mind of dirty images.
He composed himself and tried once again.
"Look Rory, as much as that sounds like fun, I wish you two would just patch things up. I also wish she'd stop calling me" he said.
"Well. You might need to lock us up in a room" she said, exhausted.
"Planing it already" he smiled back at her.
"Don't forget the barb wire" she said, matter of factly.
"Oh my god, I think I tuned that out. Your mother is fucking insane" he said and she chuckled again.
"Yep" she agreed.
She heard his cell go off and he fished it out of his suit pocket, picking it up.
"Hello? Yeah I'm on my way" he said into the phone, getting up as he hung up.
"Well, where are you off to, Shania?" she asked amused.
"Court and uhm, do I even want to know why you just called me Shania?" he asked squinting.
"It's.. well, I'm on my way. Shania means I'm on my way in Ojibwa" she explained as Tristan watched her stunned.
"Oookay, I think that piece of knowledge just knocked out valuable law information" he humored her.
"You're just gonna have to charm 'em with your looks then. Bye" she laughed, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Bye" he said as he walked towards the exit.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
"Hey" she walked into his office seeing him sitting in his leather armchair, turned away from his desk, staring out the window.
He turned around with a small smile on his lips.
"Hey" he greeted her "watcha doing here?" he asked.
She sat down in front of his desk, feeling a bit awkward.
"Uhm... just wanted to check where you were. I couldn't reach you all evening" she said carefully, not wanting it to sound like an accusation.
He furrowed his brows, seemingly not understanding what she was referring to. He looked at his wristwatch and she could tell he was stunned by what he saw.
"Wow, it's late" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know" she chuckled.
He leaned forward, checking his cell laying on the desk.
"Hmm, fourteen missed calls" he chuckled "I had it on silent, sorry".
"Hey not all those were from me, you know!" she pointed out, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
He sighed, fingers wiping his eyes in an exhausted gesture.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time" he amended.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, worried for him "How was court?"
"Fine" he replied courtly.
She furrowed her brows, not believing him.
He noticed her expression of doubt because he smiled again warmly.
"We won" he reassured her.
"Really?" she asked. She knew he had been working on this case for a while now and somehow his reaction just wasn't what she'd expect.
"Why aren't you out with the guys, celebrating?" she asked, knowing it was their tradition to do so.
He leaned back into the armchair again.
"I told them to go ahead" he murmured, his face unreadable.
"Is everything okay?" she asked again, her worry taking over her once again.
There was a silence for a long time.
"Yeah" he answered, but she couldn't help but feel like he was brushing her off.
She took a deep breath, rising from her chair, going around his desk.
He looked up at her, his expression slightly surprised as she carefully climbed into his lap, straddling him.
"Oh, is that why you were looking for me so frantically?" he joked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow.
She studied his eyes, from her position, watching as his smirk faded and his face returned to the exhausted expression he'd been wearing.
She felt more comfortable, even if she knew nothing more of why he was like this. The nearness, the intimacy of their position seemed to calm her anyways. She studied his face, his eyes now closed as he leaned back into the comfortable leather chair.
She recognized this exhaustion from before. It was his own. He worked with such determination, such dedication, but it never seemed to be an effort for him. Even if it took nights, weekends, holidays, he was always determined and never annoyed. The only time she ever saw exhaustion like this was when he finished a case, as if those weeks and months of concentration were are suddenly released into the atmosphere, freeing their own master from the task.
"Why do you get depressed when you win a case?" she asked quietly, her voice almost a whisper, as if they were talking about some great secret he would only share if he was sure no undeserving ears would hear.
His eyes opened slowly, to stare back onto hers and she marveled for a second at their deep blue.
"I don't" he replied, but not with total conviction.
She continued to watch him, patiently, giving him time.
"I do?" he asked unsurely.
She smiled warmly.
"You get quiet. And contemplative. Even if you're out with your boys, you are in a corner nursing a beer" she stated her argument.
He dropped his gaze, furrowing his brows as he thought about what she said.
"Then you are quiet for days, distracted" she continued.
He frowned.
"You are making it seem like it's unreasonable. I am just tired is probably what it is" he brushed it off.
She nodded, not wanting to push for a confession.
He sighed again, his hand unconsciously caressing her arm.
"I'm proud of you, you know" she said quietly.
He looked at her confused.
"For what?" he asked.
"For winning. For doing well at what you do" she elaborated, suddenly worried about the fact she never said this out loud. Tristan didn't seem to need praising, he always seemed so confident, so sure.
He scoffed.
"I get people out of trouble" he said "that's not necessarily something to be proud of" he murmured as he gently started to push her off of him, ready to fleet the intimacy of sitting so close together.
She shoved him back into the armchair, staying in his lap and he stared up at her, shocked and amused at the same time.
"I. Am. Proud. Of. You" she repeated, emphasizing every word and she saw him swallow, his face becoming grave.
"And your family is too" she went on.
She felt him tense beneath her, his body suddenly becoming one compact muscle, ready to burst. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm his body.
"Tris" she nudged him quietly, suddenly feeling like she stumbled upon the explanation, upon one of his well kept secrets, one of his little tragedies he held buried deep in his soul.
He opened his eyes and pulled her closer suddenly, the action taking her by surprise. She felt his lips on hers, his kiss thorough, persistent, almost rough, his hands moving to her backside, to pull her even closer.
She knew in the back of her head that this was his way of dealing with all things 'too emotional' for him, to mask his pain with desire, to get over his vulnerability by being strong, demanding, sexual. She also knew there was no point in trying to change that. And to be perfectly honest, with his erection pushing against her core, his lips latching onto her neck and his arms snaking around her waist to pull her even closer, all plans to make him express his frustration any other way were out the window.
This was his release, this was his amendment, this was his prize and shrift all in one and she was his tool for it.
She felt herself lose focus as he pulled her down onto his lap, his breathing becoming ragged as he got lost in her scent and the feel of her smooth skin. Thoughts were hard to hold onto as she felt him lift her, his movements powerful, yet eternally gentle as he placed her on the desk. She felt her sight go hazy, her head feel dizzy as he pushed her back on the smooth, cold surface, clearing the way with his arms. She heard stacks of paper fall to the floor and she chuckled unable to ignore the cliché of the moment of him taking her on his cleared off desk in that dimmed office.
"What's so funny?" he murmured, his voice a deep growl and somehow that in itself was enough for her heartbeat to pick up again.
She could only whimper in response, as he attacked her with a new found determination, as if trying to punish her for her wandering mind. She felt his hands go to her waist, freeing her slowly of the old faded jeans she was wearing. She lifted her hip willingly and his hands pulled off her jeans, taking her shoes with them as well.
She wondered how it was even possible for him to undress her with a simple touch, by sheer will, as if he had over the years somehow mastered the art of commanding all her articles of clothing. As if he had made a secret pact with every pair of jeans and every new shirt, to fade away from her body when he wished it to disappear. His hands worked like magic and she suddenly realized that she was completely exposed while he was still fully clothed.
He stared at her bare body, his hand sliding over her smooth, white skin, marking her, claiming her.
"You are so gorgeous" he whispered, but she could hardly make out what he was saying, the sound of blood pumping in her ear was so loud.
She watched unable to move as he undid his belt buckle, pushing his pants and underwear down, letting them fall to the floor with a thud. He undid his own shirt buttons, discarding the article as well. He moved back closer to her again, leaning forward as his lips found her nipple, his hands going up to caress her breast as he sucked on it.
All his movements were urgent, demanding, and she suddenly felt an incredible urge to cry, to yell at herself for ever having the idiotic, wild, moronic hope that anyone else could touch her body like he could, that anyone else could own her like he could.
She let out a loud whimper, her back arching away from the surface of the desk, as he entered her, firmly and roughly, releasing a sigh that fueled her desire even more.
He became still, letting her catch her breath, even if they both knew she never would. She felt his hands hold onto her back firmly, his lips skimming over her skin as if he could map all of her with his rebounding breath.
She opened her eyes and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed, starting a steady and mind numbing rhythm, rocking into her.
She let her head fall back and felt his hands slip out from behind her, coming to rest on her legs as he guided them upwards, to rest against his chest. She cried out, the new constellation allowing him more access, and she felt her own depths exposed as he thrust into her, hoarse grunts accompanying his movements. She felt exposed, lost and unable to control herself, incoherently pleading for him to go on.
She felt him gain stealth and momentum and he sped up, just as she was about to lose all control of her own senses. Her fingers sunk into his flesh and she let go with an uncensored cry of pleasure, her body shaking in a fast succession of convulsions.
She felt him groan loudly as she felt his release, his whole body tensing as he fell forward, tangling their limbs together.
There was sudden silence in the building and she could distinguish their raged breathing clearly, her fingers registering his racing pulse under his skin.
His hands snaked around her possessively and she felt him lay down next to her, onto his side, pulling her with him.
She chuckled, realizing his desk was massive enough to accommodate and support both of them.
"You know the constant chuckling is not doing wonders for my ego" he murmured between still ragged breaths, not opening his eyes.
She smiled widely, running her fingers through his messy blond hair.
"Sorry" she replied sheepishly "you did good, baby" she joked and his eyes snapped open in an expression of shock.
"Ohohoh, you watch it!" he said "I can take you again, right now and you're going to be so sore tomorrow, you'll never chuckle again" he warned.
"I think I already am going to be sore" she murmured and he furrowed his brows, concerned.
"I'm sorry" he mouthed, brushing hair away from her face, but she just smiled, trying to reassure him it was all alright.
"Did I...?" he paused uncertain.
"No" she cut him off.
"I think I might have been a bit... frustrated" he struggled with the words, caressing her arms.
She didn't answer, holding her breath for him to go on.
He sighed, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
She held him close, not pushing for any other explanations.
"You know... when I decided to... go to law school" he started, his voice such a quiet whisper, she had to hold her breath to understand "and I went to tell him... it was the most frustrating thing I ever had to go through".
She knew he was referring to his father. He never told her this story and now she wondered why.
"He was so arrogant, he had this look on his face, beaming with pride and I wanted to smack him. Because it was not his accomplishment, you know? I didn't want to do it to finally get him off my back, or to please him or make him proud or take on the family destiny" he went on, his voice bitter. She listened to him, part amazed and part scared, knowing it took a lot for Tristan to start talking about his family or his own feelings for that matter.
"I did it because it was the only thing I was good at. It was his fucking legacy after all, passed on in his genes" he scoffed and her heart was breaking for him.
"Tristan" she called out his name, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He looked up at her, the blue of his eyes slowly losing their tense frustration.
"You would have been good at anything" her voice shaking with emotion.
He smiled warmly, brushing back her hair.
"I mean it" she said "and your accomplishments are your own, expectations and genes aside, okay?"
"Okay" he mouthed, leaning in close to kiss her lazily.
She couldn't help but feel like her will to help was lost somewhere, because Tristan's scars were deeper than something a touch, a caress, a reassurance could heal. He seemed to manage fine anyway, carefully tucking back those rebellious feelings that managed to break to the surface through all the self control and calmness, every once in a while.
"I called your mother" he said calmly and she froze, knowing the sudden change of subject and the subject itself was exactly that, his process of tucking back his own insecurities to the hidden recesses of his soul.
She hated to admit she was weak enough to let him do that without a fight, but those four little words caused her to lose focus, her heart suddenly beating wildly again.
"What?" she mumbled.
"My voicemail was full, I had to do something about it" he chuckled.
"Oh god" she sighed.
"I made a deal with her" he said.
"Why am I sure this is going to be bad?" she asked frustrated.
"It's a bit of a compromise, but hey, you get Christmas in New York" he said smiling.
She looked at her squinting, knowing nothing could be quite as simple when it came to her mother.
"What's the catch?" she asked carefully.
He sighed.
"She gets Thanksgiving" he said apologetically.
"Of fuck" she cursed as he chuckled again "that's next weekend!"
"Yep" he replied.
"What did you get out of this?" she asked him accusingly.
"Uhm... I think a homemade knitted sweater with a turkey on it, but I am not sure, I tend to tune out when she rambles" he replied and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Seriously, what do you get out of it?" she asked.
He looked at her, his face becoming serious.
"You. Possibly happier" he said simply and she inhaled sharply knowing he was right.
There was a moment of silence and the reassuring afterglow seemed to turn into an awkward passing of seconds.
"Come on, you kinky. Ger dressed" he said getting up from the desk, his voice warm and affectionate.
"Oh, I am the kinky one?" she mumbled in indignation.
"Yeah, you always have to be jumping me in my office" he said carelessly as he pulled back his pants, fixing his belt.
"You wish" she brushed him off, gathering her discarded articles of clothing, carefully dressing herself.
"Yeah? What about the time you first came in here?" he asked, mocking her as he handed her her shirt.
"What about it?" she asked taken aback.
"You gave me a blow job" he shrugged.
"I did not!" she protested.
"Right there" he pointed to the chair behind his desk "in broad daylight" he went on with an annoying smirk on his face.
"You are sorely mistaken" she protested, putting on her shoes.
"I beg to differ" he countered "I don't forget blow jobs easily" he continued, putting on his suit and grabbing his suitcase as he moved towards the exit.
"You must have imagined it" she said following him.
"No baby, trust me, I didn't imagine cumming all over you, I had to lend you my sweater so you could leave the building" he replied and she gaped at him as they exited his office, flicking off the light switch as they passed through the door.
"You are delusional" she said holding back her smile.
"Couldn't work all week, I kept having flashbacks when I tried to sit down to get some work done" he said as they approached the elevator, walking in through the open door.
"Suits you right. You should have some restrain" she mumbled carelessly.
"Hah, so you admit it!" he smiled widely as the elevator doors slid shut.
"I admit nothing" she replied with a smile of her own.