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Date Posted: 14:32:39 02/15/02 Fri
Author: Tristan
Subject: Grr
In reply to: Jeremy 's message, "Dragging Saras to the kitchen" on 13:30:31 02/15/02 Fri

Tristan stared at the cutting knife in his hand as if he’d never seen one before. He glanced at the potatoes on the counter, then at the knife again, a frown coming to his face. Peel the skin off? How? Damn it, what did he look like, a kitchen boy or something?

“If I accidentally cut off a finger, it’s all your fault,” he muttered to Marz, kicking out a chair with one foot and plopping down at the table. He reached over and grabbed a potato from the counter, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he studied it. Okay, he thought, holding it down with one hand while positioning the knife with the other, can’t be that hard. Corum was doing a terrific job with his carrots over there. It made Tristan all the more determined to impress Marz with his superb peeling technique.

He put his heart into it, but it was no use. “Stupid frigging potato pieces of shit,” he muttered, accidentally stabbing his palm with the knife in his frustration, as the blade slipped off its target. He hissed and began attacking the thing with renewed vigor, making Corum stare at him across the table like he was an idiot. He didn’t even notice when Marz placed the ham in front of him, which was saying a lot, seeing as he was about to waste away from pure starvation and malnutrition.

He did look up when Marz joined them at the table, placing a plate of food in front of Corum before digging into his own. Tristan glared at him when he made a comment about his potato peelings after scooping them all into a pot on the stove. Geez, he could be so anal sometimes. Good thing he scooped up all the peelings, too, because Tristan was that close to flicking one into his forehead when he wasn’t looking.

His stomach told him to stop bitching and get down to the business of eating. He wasn’t going to argue when food was concerned, so he immediately forgot about the stupid potato fiasco and started carving the cooked ham with the knife. He was a little annoyed not to have a fork like a civilized person, but didn’t really have time to dwell on it, as Marz immediately piped up to say something about that naked girl without the hair.

He shifted irritably in his chair, shooting his cotton-headed lover a series of looks to kill. Sleeping with a shaved woman? How totally disgusting was that? Gods, Marz was such a freak, it actually scared Tristan sometimes. He didn’t care how intrigued he seemed to be by the idea; there was no way in hell Tristan wasn’t going to shave anything!

He perked up a bit when Marz turned the conversation on its heel and asked Corum about him and Tia. Tristan rolled his eyes when Corum looked at Marz like he was speaking another language or something. Naturally, it all came back to him, since Marz was under the impression that he and Tia were “pals” now. Okay, so they smoked a few joints together and spent a few times talking before that, but he didn’t see why that suddenly made him the expert on the situation. Besides, he didn’t really want to betray Tia if maybe she didn’t want him to repeat some of the stuff she’d told him about, too.

Oh, what the hell, a little matchmaking couldn’t hurt. Everybody deserved to be as happy as he and Marz were, anyway. He gave Marz a playful look that was actually halfway flirtatious and decided he would shock the shit out of him a little bit, just for the fun of seeing the expression on his face.

“Yeah, she did mention your name,” he said, looking at Corum as he leaned forward a bit, a conspiratorial look gleaming in his black eyes. Under the table, his hand moved to rest on top of Marz’s knee, while the other one stayed above so he could continue eating. “I think she has the hots for Rowan, but she seemed to be getting a little frustrated waiting for him to actually do something. That’s when you came up.”

Slowly, he let his fingers glide up and down his obviously surprised lover’s thigh while keeping his eyes fastened on Corum. “Maybe,” he said, smiling almost wickedly, “You could go ahead and move in for the kill, since the stupid elf is too busy to notice her yet.”

At that point, Jeremy of all people suddenly barged into the room. (Why did he continue to be surprised to see the little jerk always tagging along? Maybe one day a certain someone would stop encouraging his skinny ass and he’d get the hell out of their lives.) He was dragging a rather sullen looking Saras behind him, but Tristan only spared the genie a momentary glance.

He snatched his hand angrily back from under the table when Jeremy grabbed some food for him and Saras and plopped himself down on the other side of Marz, sitting as close as he could get, just the way he usually did.

“So what were you guys talking about before we got here?” he asked, after mentioning something about the girls getting new clothes. “Did we miss any good gossip?”

“Nothing that’s any of your business,” Tristan snapped, giving him another one of his lethal glares. “We were just discussing how some people can be so damned annoying all the time, and never seem to get the idea that nobody really wants them around anymore. That’s if they were ever welcome in the first place!”

He ignored Saras, focusing all of his attention on Jeremy, knowing the kid would pick up on what he was referring to. He was equally aware that Jeremy wouldn’t give a shit, and would continue to be the same thrice-damned irritating thorn in Tristan’s side that he’d been for the past few days.

“People like that really ought to be more careful,” he muttered, viciously cutting apart another slice of ham. “They might discover just how dangerous it is to mess with the wrong kind of person.”

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