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Date Posted: 00:06:10 02/05/02 Tue
Author: Tristan
Subject: No more wine for you!
In reply to: Tia 's message, "A call for wine" on 19:08:04 02/04/02 Mon

Tristan could tell Tia was a little far gone by now, so he did his best to steady her and catch her when she happened to topple over her own feet. His noble attempts were of course complicated by the fact that he was a little high himself and kept tripping and laughing uncontrollably for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Plus, the fact that they were practicing their dance moves in an itty bitty tent didn’t make things any easier.

He grinned and stared somewhat bashfully at his hands when she kissed him and called him her bestest friend. Wow…Tia was just so cool. She was most definitely the coolest girl he’d ever met, and he couldn’t wait for Marz to wake up so he could tell him all about her. She made him feel like he was flying again while planting that kiss on his mouth, just like she had a while back, during Jeremy’s spin the bottle game.

His happy mood evaporated momentarily when Tia declared that she ought to be the one to give Marz mouth to mouth, since he got to kiss him all the time. “No way,” Tristan muttered, shaking his head and making a face at her. “He’s mine!” He narrowed his eyes and wagged one finger at her as if he’d caught her with her hand already in the cookie jar. “No touching! Ever!”

That valiant reprimand was only met with another round of giggles, on both sides, actually. Tristan couldn’t see why he thought his warning was so funny, and Tia hadn’t even really heard it. But her good mood disappeared quickly too, once she discovered that all the wine was gone. Tristan rolled his eyes, thinking privately that she must have drank it all without realizing it. Why else was she acting like such a loon?

He waved some of the smoke out of his face because it was getting a little hard to see, and frowned at her when she started to crawl out the tent. “Where are you going?” he called out plaintively, but she made no answer. He remembered briefly her saying something about finding more wine and sighed. He couldn’t ever decide whether humans were lucky or unlucky when it came to how easily they were able to get drunk. There were few substances that could get a dragon drunk; Tristan’s personal favorite had been the toe-tingling, bitter tasting absinthe. Then there had been the strange stuff Naiomi had offered him, but even now, he still had no idea what it was they’d shared that night together.

“Marz,” he said suddenly, forgetting that his listener was out cold right now. “Isn’t Tia great? After you, I think she’s the best person I’ve ever known on this world.” He thought about that, scrunching his face up slightly. “Well, and after Eremis. And Dalo, before he decided you were tainting me. And I like Corum, too, but he belongs to you.” He sighed again, this time almost dreamily. “Maybe I should ask her to marry me. Isn’t that what mortals do?”

He thought about that, too, for a while, but then came to the conclusion that if he were going to marry anybody, it would have to be Marz. That made him burst out laughing again, and this was the state Tia found him in when she finally returned, baring the promised food and drink.

His laughter almost reached painful heights when he watched her try to wrestle with her gauzy pants, twisting and pulling on the damned things until they were straightened out again. Served her right for wearing such a goofy looking outfit! After that was done, she took a drink from her flask, spitting the contents out when she realized it was whiskey. (He winced sympathetically. Gross.) He didn’t even have the sense to duck when she tossed the Pepsi in his direction, though fortunately it only whizzed by his head without hitting him, though it did nearly shave his ear off.

He caught it deftly in midair without really thinking about it (actually, if he had thought about it, he probably would have missed completely). “Chill out,” he said, feeling really smooth and sophisticated for using Jeremy’s otherworldly language. “We don’t need the wine. I can open this can thing.”

He crawled to where she tossed her bundle of clothes and nabbed one of her daggers from her belt. Sticking his tongue between his teeth in deep concentration, he aimed the dagger and jabbed the point downward. It took him four tries to actually hit the top of the can; unfortunately, his triumphant shout was nearly buried in the sudden spray of brown liquid that immediately erupted out of the shaken can and into his face.

Tristan cursed profusely, hurling the offending can across the tent, where it bounced and landed next to Marz, continuing to spray him with sticky, mud-colored soda. He continued to mutter to himself, even when a beaming Tia handed him a candy bar. This time, at least, he was able to get the wrapper off by watching how she did it, instead of ripping and clawing at it with fingers that kept missing their mark.

“Hey!” someone suddenly called out from the other side of the tent flap. “I’ve got your wine, but if you want it, you’re gonna have to come out here to get it, sweetheart!”

Tristan shot Tia a stricken look, and he immediately dropped his candy bar and cigarette and flung both arms around her. “Nooo,” he begged, hugging her fiercely, “Don’t go yet, Tia! I like you too much. Stay and have fun with me some more!”

He didn’t even think to go outside with her; even in his addled state, he wasn’t about to leave Marz’s side. He was almost afraid to be alone with him. After all, what would happen if he started to slip away again, and she wasn’t here to coach him through the process of bringing him back? It was a scary thought, almost scary enough to make him cry, but he held back admirably. He had to act like a man in front of her, because chicks dug that sort of thing in a guy, and he didn’t want her to think he was a total loser.

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