A/N- Set in Season 2 Episode 9. Rated M- it does get there in the end, lots of tension in the lead up. If you get bored, skip to about 3/4 of the way down.

I don't own Gilmore Girls

And Thus With A Kiss, I Die

Rory sighed. She was lying on a table in Miss Patty's, pretending to be dead, while Tristan leant over her. They had been rehearsing for the past hour, gotten through all the other scenes, and had finally reached the end. Madeline and Louise looked like they were about to fall asleep, Brad was going over his lines, and Paris was watching Tristan recite his lines with an intensity Rory had only scene when she was in an exam.

And at the back of the room, there was Dean. He'd been there since the beginning, glaring at Tristan constantly. He just wouldn't leave him alone. And Tristan, being himself, couldn't help but egg him on. In all honesty, Dean watching the rehearsal seemed a little overkill, but she couldn't say anything due to the rivalry between him and Tristan.

How did this even happen? Why did Tristan have to be in their group? Ever since he'd come back from his suspension, he was worse than ever. Well, that was when he talked to her. Actually, he'd been avoiding her all week outside of rehearsals. But what used to be a teasing, now had something more sinister behind it. He hated her. Yet every time she tried to convince Dean of that, he rolled his eyes.

So now she was playing dead Juliet, waiting for Tristan to finish his lines and kiss her. She was dreading that part, especially with Dean there. What if he could tell it wasn't the first time? And aside from that, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to act. Did she just stay still, let him kiss her? That could be boring for the audience. Not to mention a little weird, kissing a dead body. But she couldn't kiss him back, she was supposed to be dead! It was all so stressful, why couldn't Madeline or Louise have been Juliet? Or even Paris. That would have been the best option, since she was pretty sure Paris still like Tristan.

'Rory, focus!' Paris shouted, jolting Rory back to reality.

She muttered an apology, before closing her eyes again.

Paris rolled her eyes. 'Let's take it again. The line before you drink the poison.'

Getting back in position, Tristan started reciting his lines.

'Here's to my love.' he proclaimed, and threw his head back to drink the poison. 'Oh, true apothecary,' He sniffed, 'thy drugs are quick!' He paused for a moment, before gesturing to Paris. 'Line.'

She threw her hands down in anger. 'Thus with a kiss, I die. How hard is it to remember?'

'Thus with a kiss, I die.' he repeated. 'Right.'

Paris nodded.

Why was he doing this? He knew his lines. Everybody who has ever studied Romeo and Juliet knows those lines. It was like he was trying to be as annoying as possible.

'And then I kiss her, right?' he continued.

'Yes. You say 'Thus with a kiss, I die,' and then you kiss her, and die.' Paris said, anger seeping through her voice.

Rory opened her eyes to see Tristan smirking. Paris saw it too. 'Why are you smiling?' she demanded.

She followed his gaze until it landed on Dean. So that's what this was about. He was just trying to piss off Dean. Of course.

Paris was mad now. 'You think this is a joke?' she continued, her voice raising. 'The performance is tomorrow!'

His eyes widened in mock surprise. 'Wait, tomorrow? Oh my god. I totally missed that the first 47 times you said it.' came his smartass response.

Paris narrowed her eyes. 'I warned you. I am not going to fail this because of you. I will replace you with Brad in a second!'

Brad looked terrified. 'Oh dear God no!' he whimpered.

This was ridiculous. Her back was sore from laying on the table, and she could feel Dean's angry stare. She was so sick of this. 'Can we just get through the scene?'

'Please.' Madeline chimed in.

Paris relented. 'Fine. But yell 'line' once more, and you're out.' She turned to Brad. 'Start memorising.'

Brad immediately picked up his script.

'Oh true apothecary,' Tristan started again, 'Thy drugs are quick!' he leant closer. Here it was. 'And thus with a kiss, I die.' He was so close now, almost touching her neck. She could feel his breath on her cheek. At the last second, he turned his head and smirked at Dean, before sitting back up altogether.

'What?!' Paris yelled.

What was he doing now? She threw her arms up in annoyance. And that little smirk at Dean, that was so unnecessary.

'Well,' he began, 'With it being our last kiss and all, it makes me think about our first kiss.'

She froze. He wouldn't, would he?

He continued. 'You know, at the party.' he said with a look in Dean's direction.

'What?' she asked, sitting up.

'Lie down.' came Paris' harsh order. 'You're dead.'

'We all are.' Louise added, yawning.

Rory ignored her, crossing her legs as Tristan spoke. 'You remember our first kiss.' Her face fell. Why was he doing this? 'In Act 1 at the Capulet's masked party?'

She sighed in relief.

'What about it?' Paris demanded.

'Well I was just trying to think of something that would make this kiss as special as that one.' was his excuse.

'Tristan.' Rory pleaded. She hadn't meant to say anything, but it just slipped out. She hoped Dean didn't sense any double meaning.

'She should cry.' he finished, with a raised eyebrow to Rory.

'She's dead!' Paris exploded. 'You're dead, lie down.' she told Rory.

'But that's the beauty of it! No one would expect her to cry.'

Was this some kind of joke? She'd specifically asked him not to talk about that kiss at Madeline's, and here he was, teasing her with it! First the kiss, now talking about making her cry? What was his problem?

'I would.' Dean said in a lethal tone.

Now Tristan was on a role. 'Funny you should say that.'

Oh my god. He was going to tell Dean! She panicked. She needed to get out of there before something bad happened. 'I need to take five.' she said, getting off the table.

'You know what? Let's all take five. That way, you can all cancel whatever plans you had tonight because we're staying here until we get this right.' Paris said.

The others all grabbed their phones to do that. 'Who could you possibly be calling?' Louise asked Brad.

She knew there was only one way they were ever going to finish. She went over to Dean. As soon as she got near him, he started talking. 'He is unbelievable.'

'Dean.' she protested quietly. 'I really need you to leave.'

He was stunned. 'What?'

She took a deep breath. 'The play's tomorrow, and it's 50% of my grade, and you standing there standing at Tristan, it's like a challenge or something.' she explained.

'Well I don't like the way he's messing with you!'

'I don't like it either.' she conceded. 'But we need to get through the scene and we can't get through the scene with you standing there.' She gave him a pleading look. 'Dean, please?'

'Fine.' he said unwillingly. 'Call me later.' he continued with a possessive glare at Tristan, before leaning over and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. He kept his eyes on Tristan all the way out.

She watched looked at the floor as he left, but didn't turn around.

'You know, I noticed you didn't cry when you kissed him, and I'm starting to feel a little insecure.' he said smirking.

Now she was mad. 'What is wrong with you?'

He frowned. 'Whew, I think I liked you better comatose.'

Ignoring him, she kept going. 'I thought you weren't going to say anything!'

'Did I say that?'

'You make it impossible for anyone to be nice to you. No wonder you had to join our group. Anyone who had actually suffered through the experience of going out with you would absolutely know better!'

He looked pissed. 'Gee, I really wish we could continue your analysis on how pathetic I am, unfortunately, I have to meet someone.' he said, grabbing his coat.

Just then, Paris stormed in. 'Where are you going?' she shouted. Then, to Rory, 'Where is he going?' She moved to go after him.

'Paris, I'll go.' she said, and ran out the door.

'Tristan, Tristan wait.' she called.

Panting, she caught up with him. 'Tristan.' she said inbetween breaths. 'You can't just leave.'

'What does it look like I'm doing?' he said sarcastically.

She sighed. 'That's not what I meant.'

He stopped in his tracks, next to his car which was parked in front of the Stars Hollow sign. 'What did you mean, Rory?'

He never called her Rory. 'I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me.'

'Damn right that wasn't fair.' She could sense the anger in his voice.

She stepped forward so she was right behind him. 'I just panicked, that's all, cause it seemed like you were gonna tell him-'

He interrupted her, spinning around. 'What was I supposed to do? He wasn't supposed to be there, at our rehearsal.'

'He was feeling threatened.' she defended.

Tristan just shrugged.

It occurred to her this was there first real fight in a while. Yeah, they'd exchanged insults and thinly veiled digs at each other, but they hadn't got everything out in the open. Why hadn't he responded?

'Should he?' she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. 'Should he what?' he spat out.

'Feel threatened. Has he got a reason to feel threatened?' she said, holding her breath.

Tristan looked at the ground. 'You already know the answer to that.'

Her eyes widened. Surely he didn't mean what she thought he meant? 'What?' she whispered.

His tone was gentle now. 'You know how I feel about you.'

'You hate me.'

He threw his hands out to the sides and looked up. 'You know I don't hate you!'

'Well then how do you explain this, huh? Why would you do anything like this for any other reason besides punishing me?' she raised her voice to match his.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he looked deep into her eyes. 'There's a thin line between love and hate.'

She blushed. 'Oh.'

He looked at the ground. She'd never seen him embarrassed, but now he was just as uncomfortable as she was. He looked so dejected.

She moved closer to him and put a hand on his arm, the electric sensation causing him to look back up at her. She had something to say, but at that moment had no clue what is was. She was preoccupied by the shock of her hand touching his arm. His eyes were on hers, and she was staring right back at him. Her breath hitched in her throat as he leant down, closer. He licked his lips subconsciously.

Dean never did that, never caused her to do the same. And just like that, the spell was broken. Dean, what about Dean? Sweet Dean who she'd made leave the rehearsal. She couldn't do it to him.

Desperate to break the tension that was still building, she thought of something to say. 'Using lines now, are we?'

He laughed and stepped back. 'I couldn't come up with anything else.' he admitted, using his arm to lead her back towards Miss Patty's.

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. She'd thought he'd be offended or something. She figured she should play along. 'We're studying Shakespeare! Surely you could've thought of something more poetic?' she joked.

'Ah, well that suspension meant I missed a few classes.' he said, still smiling.

She cocked her head. 'Hey, do you wanna borrow my notes?'

'That would be great, actually.' he replied.

She was reminded of their first meeting. 'You know, I could even help you study.' she leered, still joking.

'I might just take you up on that.' he said, winking.

And just like that, the Tristan she knew was back. 'You're supposed to say something about it being a solitary activity!' she exclaimed in mock outrage.

'But I don't believe that.' he smirked

She smiled and rolled her eyes. 'I guess I am talking to you.'

They made their way back to the studio, where Paris and the others were waiting. Paris didn't say anything as they walked in, so Rory sat back down on the table, ignoring the suggestive looks she was getting from Louise.

Tristan tried to get back into position, but Paris wasn't having it. 'Don't you have something to say to me?'

'No, I think I'm okay.' he replied with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, before turning around to face the other way. 'Fine. Let's just run the scene.'

Rory laid down in position, and Tristan sat beside her.

'Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.' He said, gazing at Rory longingly. 'Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark.' He looked out into the distance. 'Here's to my love!' he said, raising the poison, before throwing his head back and drinking it all.

'Oh true apothecary, thy drugs are quick!' he said, sniffing.

He leant over her. 'And thus with a kiss, I die.'

Here it was. She was nervous, her body tense with anticipation as he moved closer to her. His hands were on her waist, holding her tight. She could feel his breath on her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. He moved so slowly, teasing her.

'Just kiss her already!' Madeline called out.

Tristan looked over at her, then back at Rory, whose eyes were wide open, looking up at him. He smirked for a moment, before closing the distance so fast she wasn't sure if he'd kissed her or not. It was the tiniest touch of his lips on hers, gentle and fleeting.

'Finally! We can go home!' Louise exclaimed.

Rory sat up next to Tristan, who wouldn't make eye contact with her.

Paris sighed, defeated. 'Yeah, yeah. Let's just go over the notes.'

'What notes?' Rory asked, a little confused. She'd thought that run was great.

Paris raised an eyebrow. 'There are always notes. Rory, you need to act more dead. No blinking. And Tristan, kiss her like you mean it.'

Rory choked while Louise and Madeline burst out laughing. 'Huh?'

Louise answered. 'Tristan, it's your last kiss! Obviously you can't make out with her, she's dead, but you need to channel your inner animal.' At Tristan's puzzled face she continued. 'Make out with your hand, but on Rory's face.'

'Okay, okay, I get it.' Tristan cut her off. He turned to Rory. 'You're gonna have to resist all those animalistic urges.' he said with a smirk.

'Yeah, whatever.' she said, before punching him in the arm and pushing herself off the table.

As she walked out of Miss Patty's, Paris shouted out a 'Rehearsal Dismissed!' before pushing everyone else out of the studio. Rory would've gone back to help clean up, but she couldn't deal with being in there any longer. Specifically, being anywhere near Tristan any longer.

Because Rory had a problem. She couldn't get the faint feeling of Tristan's lips on hers to disappear.

Throughout the day, Rory had become more and more nervous. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach had barely been there when she woke up that morning, but now, as she sat in the jeep on the way to Chilton, it felt like she wouldn't be able to stand.

She wasn't too excited about performing. What if she forgot her lines? But that wasn't why she was worried, she admitted to herself. It was Tristan.

What was she gonna say to him? What if he said something to Dean? They had a moment outside the day before, but would they address it? And what about onstage? She hoped she'd be able to let him kiss her. What if she pushed him off? What if she pulled him closer?

'You okay?' Dean asked with a small smile.

She froze, and thanked god he couldn't tell what she was thinking about. 'Yeah, I'm fine.'

'What's on your mind?'

It wasn't like she could tell him about Tristan. 'Just nervous, that's all.'

He leant over and gave her a chaste kiss, supposed to console her. All it did was make her more nervous.

As they pulled up in the Chilton parking lot, he kissed her again, before placing a hand gently on her shoulder. 'You'll be great.' he said sweetly.

She didn't feel great as she left them and headed through the huge oak doors. She found her way to classroom where the girls were changing, guided by the high pitched voices of Madeline and Louise. They were already changed, Madeline in a green dress and Louise in brown robes, as well as a wig.

'Hey Rory!' Madeline called out.

She nodded a hello. 'Have you seen Tristan?'

'What do you want to see him for?' Louise asked slyly.

'The point is, I don't want to see him.'

It looked like they were about to ask Rory to elaborate when Paris walked in. 'Good, you're here. Get changed.' she ordered

Madeline and Louise gave each other a look before following Paris out of the room, leaving Rory alone to change. She pulled her dress out of the garment bag she'd been carrying, and inspected the light blue dress before undressing. She was standing in nothing but her bra and underwear when there was a knock at the classroom door.

Frantically, she called out 'I'm changing!'

'I can wait.' came Tristan's suggestive reply.

She rushed to put on her dress, but realised she couldn't do up the corset back on her own. For some reason, Lorelai had felt that it needed to be historically accurate, much to Rory's annoyance. But she needed somebody to tie the laces in the back, and unfortunately, the only person in the vicinity was Tristan. 'I just need some help with my dress.' she yelled.

He came in, not yet changed. 'Glad to be of service.' he replied, smirking.

She was decent- her dress was on, it just hadn't been tightened. Yet there was something about his gaze that left her feeling naked. 'Just tighten the laces.' she said, gritting her teeth.

She sucked in her tummy as Tristan started from the bottom, pulling each cross of the string tight. She could feel his hands on her back as he pulled, holding her firmly. Each pull snatched the breath from her chest, and caused her to grip the table she was leaning on harder. Her knuckles turned white as he worked, and she suddenly felt very hot.

'I can't get this one any tighter.' He said, as he pulled at the third cross down.

Rory leant forward and adjusted the low cut top of the dress, before telling him to keep going. If it was this loose, the dress wouldn't stay up.

Tristan changed position so he could get pull harder, lunging with a bent leg between Rory's. His presence did nothing for the heat that was slowly rising through her as he finished, his leg pressed against hers. She shifted and his knee slipped under her dress, and she was confronted with the feeling of his cold jeans on her skin. Her arms broke out in goosebumps even though by now she was so hot she was sure she'd start sweating. He moved to the second last cross. Each yank caused her to grit her teeth as he corset was pulled tight against her breasts, and she hoped that the dress would stay up. Otherwise she would've gone through all that pain for nothing.

Finally, he reached the top of the corset, and after pulling it just as tight as the others, he tied a gentle bow. His hands were hot on her back, even though they only brushed her sensitive skin as he worked. She shivered subconsciously.

'You okay?' Tristan asked.

She nodded, before pointing to the door. 'Thanks.' she said, and ushered him out before he could say anything else.

As soon as she's shut the door behind him, she backed up and leant against a desk. What was going on? The heat in her stomach hadn't subsided, and she wasn't sure how to make it go away. She needed to concentrate, get ready, practise her lines! This was definitely not what she was supposed to be doing.

She rooted around for her headdress, and after digging it out of her bag, positioned it on her head. Then she smoothed down the skirt of her dress, and left to go look in the mirror in the bathroom.

Pushing open the door, she heard Madeline and Louise's voices inside. They fell silent when they saw her. Madeline raised her eyebrows, and Louise wolf whistled.

Rory's face fell. 'Is it that bad?' she asked.

'See for yourself' came Louise's reply.

She stepped up to the mirror and didn't recognize the girl in it. She was wearing dainty red velvet pumps, and was clad in a beautiful blue dress with a flowing skirt. The sleeves were white as if she was wearing the dress over a blouse, and the bodice had little white embroidered flowers. But it wasn't that the dress wasn't beautiful, it was. It was the fit. The corset back meant her waist was accentuated in a way that made her hips look flare out, and between the low cut lace-trimmed square neckline and the way the corset forced her boobs up, she felt so on display that she was tempted to try and find some kind of coat.

'Now all you need is makeup!' Madeline exclaimed excitedly, pulling a pink bag out from behind her back.

After she and Louise had coated her lashes in dark black mascara, put a little blush on her cheeks, and dabbed pink lip gloss on her lips, they pronounced Rory as 'finished.' She'd already had a little makeup on before, but now she barely recognized her face.

Paris burst in. 'You three, we're starting in 15 minutes, make sure you're ready.' she announced, before leaving so fast nobody else could say anything.

'I'm gonna go talk to my family, tell Paris I'll be there soon.' Rory said, before leaving the bathroom as well.

She found Sookie, Lane, Dean and her mom towards the back of the hall. The cavemen adaptation of act 2 was almost over, to the relief of the audience. She took a deep breath, before walking up to them.

'Hi guys!' she said, smiling.

Sookie's jaw dropped. 'You look great, honey! So grown up!'

'That dress looks great on you.' Lane said, with special emphasis on great.

'I made it!' Lorelai chimed in, 'Not to mention the girl inside!'

'Hello, gross!' Rory teased.

'Doesn't she look like a princess, Dean?' Sookie asked.

Rory looked over at him. His face showed nothing but thinly veiled anger. 'Yeah.' He replied. 'Can I talk to you for a minute, Rory?'

'Sure.' she accepted, and nervously pulled him out into the hallway.

'Why are you wearing that?' he asked quietly.

She frowned. 'It's my costume.'

'Yeah. The costume that you have to kiss Dristan in!'

'What do you want me to do, Dean?'

'I don't know, is there any way to make it less revealing?'

She was stunned. 'What?! Dean, I can wear whatever I want! You don't get a say in it! Besides, he already laced it up, I don't want to have to get him to do it again.' As she finished, she realized her mistake. Her eyes widened.

'He? Who's he?' Dean asked, his tone dark.

She looked at the floor. 'Tristan.' she whispered.

'What?!' he exploded. 'He dressed you?!'

'Dean, it's not that big of a deal-' she started.

'What, is he gonna undress you too? Are you gonna meet after the performance?' Dean continued yelling.

'No, no! I don't need this right now. You need time to cool down, I need to go.' she said, trying to calm him.

'Fine.' he muttered. 'We can talk about this later.'

She sighed. 'Dean, can we just forget about it?'

'If that's what you want.' he replied.

'Dean, I've got to go...' she trailed off.

He sighed. 'I know.'

She leaned up to kiss him. He met her half way, letting his lips linger on hers softly, sweetly, for a moment before letting her go.

'Break a leg.' he said, smiling, before returning to where Lorelai and Sookie stood.

—

Paris, Louise, Madeline, Brad, and Rory were all waiting in the wings, but they couldn't go on until Tristan showed up.

'Where is he?' Paris exclaimed while pacing back and forth. 'He knows we're going on any minute!'

'Paris, relax. He'll be here.' Louise drawled.

Paris frowned. 'Let's line up to go on, he comes on last anyway so he can join the end of the line.' she instructed, before pushing Rory forward. She almost fell onto the stage Paris pushed her so hard.

'Without further ado, Act 5!' the presenting teacher's voice boomed.

'Go, go!' Paris whispered. Rory walked on stage and positioned herself on the table.

She was supposed to lay there for the entire act, while the other scenes were performed in front of her. The lights dimmed as Brad got in position.

Tristan walked onstage. From the angle she was at, Rory could just make out what was going on without making it obvious that her eyes were open. Tristan was dressed in traditional Elizabethan clothes, with long blousy shorts and knee socks, as well as slippers. His top was a cream linen, but it was unbuttoned and untucked, which she was sure had not been in the costume description.

Tristan said the first line, and the act began. He moved around the stage like he had been acting all his life, and Rory could tell the audience was moved by his words. They were so getting an A on this project.

She realised they had reached Romeo's death when he sat down next to her.

'Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.'

He turned to face her.

'Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark.'

He looked out into the audience.

'Here's to my love!'

He raised the poison, before throwing his head back and drinking it all.

'Oh true apothecary, thy drugs are quick!'

He leant over her.

'And thus with a kiss, I die.'

Time stopped as he moved closer, his bare chest hovering over her body. Sometime during the scene, he had lost his shirt, and Rory couldn't help but admire his abdominal muscles as he placed his hands around her waist.

He blinked back a fake tear, causing someone in the audience to gasp. As his eyes moved up her body, tracing every curve highlighted by the corset, she realised that her open eyes must be becoming more obvious to the audience, so closed them tightly. That only made the sensations he was causing worse. So far, Tristan had stuck to what they'd done in rehearsal, but Rory knew that it couldn't last much longer. She felt him move his arm next to her neck and transfer his weight onto it, before letting his other hand trail up from her waist. As goosebumps formed under the fabric of her dress, she decided that had definitely not been in the rehearsal. He let it stop just beneath her breast, igniting the familiar fire in her stomach. His breath tickled her neck. After gazing over her still figure for a moment more, he swept his hand over her breast, and repositioned himself so he was sitting next to her, a hand on either side. He looked up, as if saying a prayer, before refocussing his attention on Rory. Giving her a small smile, he let his hand rest on her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb.

At this point, the fire from her stomach had spread up to her head and down to her core, and she had to force herself to lay still, not to meet Tristan's lips as they moved closer to her. She couldn't think of anything else, she would've forgotten where she was if it weren't for Tristan's little movements thrown in for the benefit of the audience. She couldn't wait any longer, he had to do it, right then, or she would.

His thumb stopped moving. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, before leaning down and capturing her lips in his own.

It was like the heat that had been building ever since he'd sat down next to her came to her lips. They moved on their own in time with his. She'd never been kissed the way he was kissing her. His lips swept over hers, forming between and around them. He pulled at her bottom lip, and she leant up from the table to meet his mouth, pressing herself against his bare chest. She felt him breath in, and they both opened their eyes in surprise. What were they doing? More importantly, what were they going to do now?

Thinking quickly, she broke away from him with a cry. 'Romeo?'

He gave her an expression of pain and despair, before collapsing next to the table.

But she was supposed to be dead! They'd adapted the scene so that Romeo's death finished it off. Frantically, she looked around for the dagger, and spotted it tucked in the pocket of Tristan's pants. Crying, she got off the table and grabbed it.

Thankfully, she remembered a few of the lines, even if they'd skipped out a whole chunk.

'Oh happy dagger,' she choked out, 'This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.'

The lights blacked out as she pretended to stab herself.

The audience broke into cheers and applause, and lights came back on to reveal they'd gotten a standing ovation. Everyone lined up at the front of the stage, Tristan and Rory in the centre, with Paris in front. She actually looked happy. They took their bows before going offstage, all the while enjoying the wild response their performance had achieved.

They stood in a circle while Paris addressed them. 'You.' She pointed at Rory. 'What the hell did you think you were doing? What part of dead do you not understand?'

'The part where she's supposed to resist Tristan Dugrey.' Louise sniggered.

'And you,' she continued, pointing at Tristan. 'You were supposed to keep it PG! No caressing, no nothing!'

'But Paris,' Madeline protested. 'It all worked out!' she said perkily. 'Rory dying again was amazing!'

'And we got a standing ovation!' Brad added.

Paris looked to Rory, expecting her to say something. 'Oh! I just, um, happened to remember the lines, that's all.'

'Well, it was fantastic, Juliet.' Louise said with a wink.

'I've gotta go…' Rory started.

Madeline got to her feet. 'Let's go change.' She and Louise headed for the classroom they'd left their clothes in, leaving Rory, Paris, Tristan and Brad.

'I'm gonna go too.' Rory said, before following them down the hallway. Louise and Madeline turned a corner, leaving her alone as their voices faded. Her head was reeling, her arms still covered in goosebumps. She could still feel the path Tristan had traced over her, feel where his thumb had rubbed her cheek. Stopping and leaning against a locker, she raised her hand to her cheek. What was she doing? She hadn't expected to kiss him, to want to kiss him. And she definitely hadn't expected the feeling she had right now, like she wanted to kiss him again.

She had almost reached the classroom door when she heard footsteps behind her. She whirled around in surprise at the sudden noise, and turned straight into Tristan.

He smirked. 'Hey Mary.'

And then he was on her, hands firmly on her hips. He captured her lips in his own, and immediately she felt his tongue force its way between her lips, desperate and aggressive. She'd thought their kiss on stage was passionate- it was nothing compared to this. He tasted faintly like the cigarettes he'd been smoking before the performance, masculine and strong, but not so that it was overwhelming. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Their mouths moved together as their tongues duelled. Suddenly, he moved his hands to her wrists, before pinning her arms back against the lockers and pushing her back against them with his body. She arched into him as he pulled at her bottom lip, causing a deep groan to force its way from the back of his throat. His hold on her wrists loosened as she pushed herself away from the lockers, his hands moving to her waist instead. She took the opportunity to stop him.

Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him away lightly. He broke away from her lips, but rested his forehead on hers.

'Tristan,' she started, her voice breathy and uneven. 'Someone will see.'

'So?' he replied with a shrug. 'Let's go somewhere else.'

She knew she should resist, that this was a terrible idea, but something inside her quieted the voices and let Tristan take her by the hand. It was almost romantic, him holding her hand, yet there was something in his eyes that showed an animalistic lust. He lead her down the hall and through a set of heavy doors. Once inside, she felt around for something to lean on; her knees were still weak and she wasn't sure if she could stand without some kind of support. It took her a moment to adjust to the darkness as Tristan closed the doors, but once she had, she realised she was in the library.

That was all she had time to think of because as soon as she'd heard the doors shut, she felt him next to her again. She could tell by his haste that he wasn't going to wait, to start simple or slow. And she was right. Immediately, his lips were pressed against hers and his hands were holding her close, giving her no time to react before he swept his tongue tantalisingly over her lips, begging for entrance. She hadn't even realised she'd accepted until she felt him raise his hand to her cheek and take her bottom lip in his. His lips were warm and soft, yet his movements rough as he pulled her lip between his teeth. She was surprised that it didn't hurt, that in fact she wished he'd do it again. With the support of his arm around her back, she moved her hands to his waist, pulling him closer in a bid to settle the growing fire in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his hard body against hers. Releasing her lip slowly, he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin, causing her to reach up to his neck eagerly to kiss him harder. That seemed to stir something in him, for the pressure on her back increased as his other hand moved to her neck and he kissed her more deeply. He took a step forward so they were even closer together, and the presence of his leg against her thigh caused a tingling sensation that wouldn't subside, even as her hands moved to his messy hair.

Suddenly, she felt his hands on the back of her thighs, squeezing hard and lifting her up onto the table. Hers eyes opened wide and she gasped at the feeling, before she refocussed on his perfectly formed mouth and took his lip inbetween her own, tracing the swell with her tongue. A low growl escaped his throat as she pulled at it, his surprise at her forwardness evident from the rumble that vibrated through his chest. He positioned himself inbetween her legs so he could lean forward, eager to keep his lips on hers as she pulled away. A wave of heat passed through her core as she felt him there, bringing with it a need that she didn't know how to satisfy. Lightly placing his lips on hers, he focussed his attention on his hands which were resting either side of her thighs. He traced the shape of butt before moving to her hips where he pulled her flush against himself, causing her to inhale sharply. His body was strong against her and she could feel every inch of him; only a few layers of cloth separated them.

While his hands swept up her sides, hers slipped under his shirt and glided over his back, feeling the muscles and his strength between her fingertips. He tensed beneath her touch, before placing his hands firmly on her waist and lifting her up off the table. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him and held onto his shoulders as he continued his exploration of her body. His hands moved to her ribs but she started slipping, pulling on his neck for support. He smirked, moving his hands back to waist and then leaned down to kiss her again. She melted into him as their mouths fused together, her hands tugging at the neck of his shirt. Having got the message, he moved to set her back down on the table while he took it off but instead, Rory broke away from his lips and cocked her head to the right. 'Bookshelf.' she breathed, and immediately he wrapped his arms around her back and carried her over to the end of an aisle, all the while keeping their lips connected.

The shock of being pushed so roughly against the wooden board almost knocked the wind out of her, but Tristan breathed it back into her mouth as her lips parted slightly. She'd never felt so close to someone, sharing the same breaths, and she could feel his heat being passed to her, adding to the inferno that was blazing up her chest. His hands were under her thighs, holding her up and scorching the skin there. She pulled the shirt over his head, exposing his tanned chest. He watched as her eyes raked over his skin, smirking as their eyes met. He raised his eyebrow as if to ask if she liked what she saw, but instead of replying she placed her hands on his cheeks and closed her eyes. Tentatively, she slipped her tongue inbetween his lips, causing a guttural groan to force its way out of his chest. Subconsciously he increased the pressure of his body against hers. She smiled wickedly, amazed that she could induce these reactions, and tantalisingly swept her tongue over his. He followed suit, deepening the kiss as they fell into rhythm. It was like their mouths were dancing, keeping in time with each other while the heat spread throughout their bodies.

She whimpered as he broke away from her lips, instead placing wet kisses on her neck. Breathing heavily, she tilted back to allow him easier access. It was like he was teasing her, running his hands along her legs at the same time. His lips trailed up to her ear where he nibbled on her earlobe, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. Who would've thought that such a small action could arouse such a want within her? He moved down to her collarbone, gently nipping at the skin of neck. A sound she didn't recognise forced itself from the back of her throat as he sucked roughly on her skin, before biting down, causing her to let out a cry. Her heart raced from the shock and pain, yet somehow it made even more feverish, burying her head in his hair while he laid gentle kisses, as if admiring the mark she knew he'd made.

Time seemed to stop completely as Tristan continued his ministrations, covering her chest in feather-light kisses like he was savouring her. Her legs were wrapped tightly around him, so intimately that she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core. She stretched back as he placed a kiss on each of her breasts, all the while fiddling with the laces on the corset that he'd so painstakingly tightened earlier. It was all she could do to keep her hands on his shoulders, holding herself up. His movements became more and more frantic as he tore at the back of her dress, until finally he got it loose so that it slipped down just enough. He sighed in relief, before returning his lips to her chest. It occurred to her as he moved downwards that she wasn't wearing a bra, that he'd got the corset loose, that soon she wouldn't have it on at all, but those thoughts disappeared as fast as they came when he tasted her alabaster skin. She was still reeling from the shock when suddenly, he yanked the dress down, exposing her whole chest. Blushing, she leant back against the wooden board, away from his doting lips. He looked up in surprise at her hesitation. His eyes were dark and black, so full of lust that it almost scared her. He nodded to her, as if to tell her to be confident, not to be embarrassed, and when she gave him the slightest dip of her head, he resumed his work. She hadn't even realised she'd responded until she felt her head raise back up. Her body did that, answering instinctively to unspoken questions and it surprised her how ready she was for something she didn't even understand.

It was like a reflex, like she'd been programmed to know what to do. She couldn't think, she couldn't speak, and she could barely breathe. A longing had spread through her, intensifying the heat that had already taken over. She watched as he trailed down her breast with admiring kisses until he reached her nipple. Briefly, she wondered what he would do, but that disappeared like every other thought as he continued. She moaned while he sucked gently, causing an electric sensation to run through her body. It coursed through her, pooling in her core and causing her to rake her fingernails across his back. He swore loudly, before pulling her dress back up, much to her disappointment. But that was soon forgotten as he moved back to her lips. This kiss was different, less desperate but just as deep. His lips were soft yet demanding, sweet in a way she hadn't seen but still showing his need and she lost herself in him, her hands rubbing the skin she had scratched with her eyes shut tightly.

He stepped forward, pressing himself more intimately against her while continuing to kiss her at the same time. She could feel everything, her body hypersensitive as his lips moved with hers. With the support of his solid body pushed up against hers and the bookcase behind her holding her up, he moved his hands from her thighs. Her skirt had been pooled underneath his hands but now it hung down, allowing him to access the expanse of skin beneath it. He swept his hands around to her knees which were tight against his waist. She inhaled sharply. She'd known his hands were hot when she could feel them through her skirt, but now they burned as they brushed over the backs of her knees. They were rougher than she expected, but somehow that made them feel stronger and she froze as he massaged his way up her thighs. It felt so dangerous to have his hands there in a place nobody had ever touched, exchanging the heat from her core for the heat from his hands.

His hands reached her butt, and he squeezed it to remind himself of her curves. Then he lightly trailed up to her hip, and tugged at the thin fabric of her underwear. She gasped as he pulled it down a little and rested his hand on her hip bone, rubbing it with his thumb, all the while kissing her feverishly. His other hand made it up to her cheek where he tilted her head as to get a better angle. As one hand rubbed her hip, the other rubbed her cheek like he had in the performance, reminding her of the draw she had to him and causing her to kiss him more deeply. His fingers ran along the edge of her panties down to the junction between her pelvis and her leg, where he waited for a moment, teasing her.

She pulled away from his lips. 'Tristan,' she got out, looking him deep in the eyes. 'I…I need,' she continued, breathing heavily. She didn't even what it was that she needed, but she knew it was something only he could provide.

He slipped his fingers under her underwear, and smirked at her. 'You're so wet for me. I love it.' he said, before sliding a finger inside her.

She moaned again, pulling him closer by the shoulders. Somehow the fire inside her grew even more powerful, causing her to cry out his name, begging for more. He slipped another finger inside, and bucked forward against him. He circled slowly, in and out, causing her to arch against him, and another instinctive moan left her as he continued. She heard him groan but couldn't process it, her mind was shutting off as the unbearable feeling overcame her. His tongue fell into the same rhythm as his fingers, and the hand on her cheek moved to rub her back; it felt like the pleasure that filled her was coming from all over. He started to move faster, causing her whole body to react with him, falling into his rhythm in a way that she wasn't aware she knew how to do. She squeezed her eyes shut and and pushed herself against the bookcase as her mind swirled into a whirlpool of electricity that ran through her whole body. She could hear herself chanting his name, over and over again until she was practically screaming, and feel herself almost convulsing with his fingers, his tongue, his lips, his arm, all over, everywhere.

A huge wave of something she'd never felt before ripped through her, causing every muscle in her body to tighten, her legs to wind around his waist, and her hands to pull at his hair. And then as fast as it came, it was gone. She let go of the breath she'd been holding and collapsed against him, her head resting on his shoulder. His hands moved to her waist as he held her up against himself, retreating from the bookcase and moving to the table where they'd started. He pulled out a chair with one arm, before sitting down with Rory still wound around him. Slowly, she uncurled into his lap, her head in the corner between his shoulder and his neck. He held her there, still and silent, waiting for her to regain her strength.

'Thanks.' she murmured into his neck.

He turned slightly and placed a gentle kiss in her hair. Then he leaned back and looked deep into her eyes, letting her rest in his arms. 'You know how I feel about you, Rory.'

'I know.' she repeated, smiling.

He opened his mouth to reply, but she interrupted him. 'I get it now.' she said, blushing a little. She closed the distance between them and placed a chaste kiss on his swollen lips.

Pulling back, he swept her up military style, grabbing her headdress that had fallen off at some point of the table behind them, before carrying her out the huge oak doors. As soon as he'd closed them, he made a move to set her down, but Rory shook her head.

'Aren't you worried someone will see?' he asked.

She shook her head again, smiling. 'I don't care anymore.'

So they walked out to the his car, Tristan carrying her all the way, and as he drove her home Rory couldn't help but smile at the promise that it held, and the familiar fire ignited itself again.