Disclaimer: I don't own American Dragon. I am merely writing this for my own enjoyment and am not getting paid for it.
Night had fallen.
It was quiet, except for the occasional roar of a passing car. In Lao Shi's shop in the back room a single light had been turned on, casting dim shadows against the walls and against the glass of the window.
Trixie Carter lifted another box and slid it onto the pile. She was alone tonight; Jake was out training with Lao Shi and Fu, and Spud was busy trying to woo Stacy again. She checked her watch to be sure she still had time before turning her attention to a television set. Cautiously, she gripped it and lifted it onto the shelf, pushing it back so it didn't fall.
She felt the presence before she heard or saw it; a subtle shift in air flow that indicated the window had been opened. "Jakey ain't here," she said without turning around. "He's with Gramps if you're lookin' for him."
There was no response to this, and grudgingly Trixie realized she'd have to turn around and did so. Huntsgirl leaned calmly against the wall, arms crossed loosely over her chest. "Like I said," the African-American girl muttered. "He ain't here."
Huntsgirl's voice was both cool and amused; the combination sent small ripples of irritation down Trixie's spine, but she ruthlessly squashed the feeling and turned back to the task at hand, flipping a box open. "So why are you still here?"
"Maybe because I'm not looking for him."
Trixie couldn't put a finger on why the other girl's presence irritated her so much; she straightened, rolling her shoulders, before glancing at Huntsgirl. "So ya wanna hang out here. Fine. But could ya take the mask off?"
"Why?" Huntsgirl raised a brow.
"'Cause. You take that thing off with Jake and Spud." Trixie shrugged. "I just figured, ya know, we're on the same side an' everything, you'd trust me enough to take it off when it's just you 'n me."
She turned away before Huntsgirl could respond, busying herself by unwrapping the bubble wrap stuffed in the box and retrieving the CD player, sliding it on the shelf. She heard Huntsgirl sigh softly.
"Okay, okay," the blue-eyed girl murmured. "But you've seen me before." Regardless, she gently tugged her mask off, tucking it into her pouch. Trixie turned around.
She wasn't sure what she'd expected; but what she saw before her took her breath away.
Huntsgirl was right about one thing: Trixie had seen her before. But not like this.
Her hair was braided and fell easily down her back, except for a few loose strands that occasionally fell into her eyes; she brushed them away. The moonlight falling through the window seemed to make her blue eyes lighter then they really were.
Wondering where this new reaction had come from, Trixie pressed her lips together and said nothing. Huntsgirl's eyes narrowed. "Satisfied?" she asked.
Trixie glared, causing Huntsgirl to chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes."
There had to be something in the air; maybe static, Trixie concluded. That would explain why her blood was heated and her skin tingled. It had absolutely nothing to do with the calm, amused expression currently trained on her. "Take it as whatever ya want," she muttered, diving headfirst into a box to keep busy.
This feeling was new, unexpected, and very much unwelcome.
A few more moments passed in silence as Trixie did her job of retrieving items from storage and setting them around the store; all the time, she was aware of Huntsgirl's gaze. The knowledge that she was watched sent twin bolts of nervousness and—God have mercy—delight through her body.
It was driving Trixie insane. She had to do something. She had to get this feeling—whatever it was—out of her system before she went mad.
And in her mind, there was only one way to do it.
She steeled herself for a minute, finding hundreds of little details to attend to. Finally, when nothing else needed to be done, she turned to face Huntsgirl. She was somewhat amused to discover that the young huntress had barely moved from her spot.
Trixie blew out a breath. "Can I try something?"
Huntsgirl raised a brow. "Evidently."
Trixie had no response to that, so she decided to get the moment over quickly by striding across the room and resting her fingers on the nape of Huntsgirl's neck, causing the other girl to move forward so their lips met.
Huntsgirl's cry of surprise was muffled, and her body froze so she couldn't seem to fight back. Her mind whirled madly, trying to figure out what was going on. But being kissed was a familiar sensation, and her body eased into it even as her mind spun.
Oh, Lord, she'd gone off the deep end. Trixie's heart was pounding but she couldn't pull away. She had to let this feeling out, and kissing Huntsgirl did the trick. Thunderbolts exploded in her chest at the sensation, and it didn't help that the other girl wasn't fighting.
Then it happened.
It wasn't like kissing Jake; it wasn't the sweet click of a door opening that she'd experienced when he'd kissed her. It was a rushing roar, like a gust of wind sweeping through her body. Behind it, speeding in its wake, was a pain, sharp, sweet, and stunning. Huntsgirl stiffened against it, her cry of protest muffled against Trixie's lips.
No other sound could have brought Trixie back to reality; she stumbled back as though she'd been slapped. Huntsgirl's eyes were wide with confusion.
Desperately needing something to do, wishing she could be swallowed up, Trixie turned away from Huntsgirl and with trembling hands dusted a television set. Still reeling, Huntsgirl brought her hand to her lips, closing her eyes. She blew out a long breath.
Well, this complicated things.
Huntsgirl lowered her hand. "What was that for?"
Trixie shrugged. "You… you irritate me."
Smooth, Trix. Real smooth.
The answer itself made Trixie cringe inwardly, but it seemed to satisfy Huntsgirl; to an extent, anyway. After a moment, the young huntress exhaled heavily. "I guess I'd better get going."
"Yeah. That might be a good idea."
Trixie kept her eyes determinedly focused on her task, her hands busy, but she still heard Huntsgirl pull her mask on, gripping the edge of the windowsill and hoisting her slim body up so she was crouched on the sill. She paused for a moment.
What the hell. She had nothing to lose. "Trixie."
Surprised, the African-American girl turned; she hadn't expected Huntsgirl to speak to her again. "Yeah?"
There was a moment of silence as Huntsgirl paused, trying to figure out how exactly to word what she was thinking, what she was feeling—but nothing seemed to suffice. So she settled for the simple answer.
"I'll, uh..." She looked at the floor. "I'll… remember what you said. About my mask. I'll try to keep it off when I'm around you."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks" Trixie couldn't tell if Huntsgirl was simply replying to her earlier complaint or, considering recent circumstances, was dropping a hint of some sort.
She sincerely hoped the answer was replying to her earlier complaint.
Huntsgirl nodded; then, without another word, she slid the window open and melted away into the night.
But Trixie had the feeling that what had just happened was far from over.
So... what inspired me to write this? Blame it on waiting for the 400 at a winter track meet and the fact that I've seen some Spud/Jake fics but no Rose/Anyone female fics.
And why did I pair her with Trixie? I have no clue. It just seemed to fit.