first Jori fic. wanted to post one for a while now, considering how much I adore the pairing. and know how I love to mix up the genres :D

General Disclaimer:

The characters in this story don't belong to me – though I often wish they did – but are copyrighted to their respective owners so, let me make it clear that I will make no profits off of any of these stories. So, you know, please don't sue me.

Personal Disclaimer:

If you don't like Victorious, Tori/Jade, or girlxgirl in general than read no further.

You've been warned in an effort to save both your time and mine.

Oh, and just remember that there is a difference between a critical critique and a flame.

So, now that all of the unpleasantness is out of the way, please enjoy Fifth Times The Charm

When Jade and I first met, I thought she hated me. Like seriously hated me. I attributed it to the attention I was getting and the way I seemed to hit it off with Beck, who's still one of the sweetest guys I've ever met. But, in actuality, her dislike had to do with something else…something that neither of us wanted to acknowledge at the time. And, for a while at least, neither of us did.

But from the first moment I saw her…she just…she made me feel…things. I guess I did the same for her…and I can't blame her for blaming me for it, haha. Neither of us was ready for something like that, something so life-altering and widely unaccepted.

She was beautiful; I'm not ashamed to admit that that was the first thing I noticed about her. I'd never thought about another girl like that before but somehow it felt…right. It didn't help that I found everything about her…enticing. The way she dressed, the way she looked, even the way she spoke, all of it - all of her - drove me wild.

But I wasn't blind; I saw how she looked at Beck and how he looked at her. I also knew that they'd been an item since the beginning of forever so it never really crossed my mind that she felt the same way about me, that she could even…but I guess that what people do best, what Jade does best, is surprise you.

The first time, the first time I realized there was something to realize, was at a party. It was one of those 'friend of a friend' deals, the kind where you don't really know anyone there except the person who invited you. For the whole crew, Robbie (minus Rex), Cat, Beck, Jade, and I, that person was Andre.

We took separate cars so I didn't get the chance to see her until I arrived and all I could manage after I did was…wow. She looked amazing. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, its glossy darkness and bright streaks looking both elegant and edgy with a sort of effortlessness I'd only ever seen her possess. Her midriff was clearly visible, showing not only the diamond that sparkled in her navel ring but also the toned paleness of her abdomen. The jeans were tight, too tight for my comfort let alone hers, but no one seemed to be complaining and I sure as hell wasn't going to be the first.

She didn't compliment me, not that I expected her to, but I could have sworn that I saw the corner of her mouth turn up ever so slightly in approval, something that made my heart skip a traitorous beat. We walked into the bash together, surrounding ourselves in the only people we knew. It was loud, the nondescript club-type music blaring so that you could barely hear yourself think let alone speak.

I don't really remember how Jade and I got separated from the group or when we realized that the punch was spiked or exactly why we started laughing. But it seemed like no time had passed before we were pressed together against the wall of the hosts' bedroom, her tongue in my mouth, and her hand under my skirt.

I moaned into her mouth; my hands were wrapped up in her hair, clasping and unclasping at rapid intervals as I crept nearer and nearer to release. Then she pulled away and it was only then that I felt like I couldn't breathe. Luckily for me she didn't go far. "Talk to me, Vega," she whispered, nipping at my kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Tell me how it feels,"

I couldn't find the words to tell her what it was like, the feel of her fingers sliding in and out of my wetness, the scent of her enveloping my senses…my drunken, lust-ridden mind couldn't even attempt matching words with the feelings she was stirring in me so I did the only thing I could think to: I forced her mouth back to mine and slid my tongue alongside her own.

She moaned and, in response, quickened the pace of her digits, spreading them to increase the friction that was already overwhelming me. I would have screamed if her mouth hadn't been covering mine; as it was my knees gave way and I fell into her, pushing her back onto the bed. I tugged at her jeans and, though I couldn't seem to find my voice, I had her zipper down in ten seconds flat.

She bucked under me and I stopped, suddenly more unsure than I had ever been before. Did she want this to stop? Had I gone too far? Those panic-y thoughts made my haze of desire just enough for the doubts to set in.

When she realized I'd stopped she looked up at me, her face flushed and her lust-filled eyes questioning. "Why'd you stop?" she panted.

"You…you b-bucked," I managed, suddenly feeling more nervous than a virgin on Prom night.

"Not in argument," she said and, before I had time to nod in understanding, she'd pulled me back down to her. Her tongue pushed its way into my mouth and her hands slid beneath my shirt, teasing the flesh they met there.

Her nails raked at my back, leaving marks that I would feel for days, as her teeth worried my lip near-bloody. I moaned even as I slipped a hand into her panties, which were soaked with her juices. I couldn't help at that instant but to relish in a moment of pride; I'd made her wet. I'd made her so wet that her eyes were begging me to keep going. Jade West, begging me for more…I never thought I'd see the day.

She came quickly, riding my hand through her orgasm with an animalistic skill far beyond anything I'd ever seen before. And, as she came down from her high, she stared at me with a look I was afraid to read into. "Thanks, Vega," she said, pushing me off and standing as she fixed her jeans. And then, without looking back, she left the room, left me sitting on the bed with her scent all over me. Nearly an hour later, it was Cat who found me still sitting there, her eyes full of innocent concern as she helped me to her car and drove me back to her place.

The second time was the same; hard, fast, more about hormones than feelings. At school, after fighting about something stupid, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the janitors' closet. I was sure she was going to yell at me some more, threaten me, maybe even hit me; I wouldn't have put it past her. I sure as hell couldn't have expected her to push me against the wall and slide her tongue into my mouth.

She didn't seem nervous, at least not until she started undoing my jeans. It was then that I noticed her hands were shaking. I knew better than to mention it though; I didn't want her to stop.

"I've wanted to do this for days," she whispered moment later as her fingers slipped inside me.

I could only manage moan in response and, though I wouldn't think about the true meaning of her words for hours, I nodded in agreement as I held onto her; my knees had given way the second her lips met mine. I came hard, shuddering violently, and she held me with a sort of tenderness I'd thought beyond her. After I could stand she left me once again, my body still shaking.

Even after I cleaned up and returned to class, her perfume was all I could smell and, for the rest of the day, I felt cold without her body pressed against mine.

The third time was more deliberate, at least on her part. We were working on a project at my house when, without warning, she tackled me back onto the bed. Her knee was pressed firmly between my legs and her breath was hot on my face. I moaned at the suddenness of the pressure. Everything about her turned me on; even her nearness was intoxicating, like a drug I'd do anything to take a hit of.

"You're killing me," she whispered as she pulled my shirt over my head, followed quickly by her own. "But I can't stop,"

"Then don't," I said as I planted a series of kisses along her neck.

We came hard against one another, shuddering and gasping for air, our bodies hot and slicked with sweat and our hearts thudding in our chests.

After what seemed only a moment she was off of me and dressed, once again sitting on the edge of the mattress staring down at the open textbook as though nothing had happened.

We'd finished the project and she'd gone home long before I was able to reclaim my stolen breath. And, hours later, as I got ready for bed, I found her panties lying at the foot of my bed; the only proof I had that it had been more than a crush-induced fantasy.

Our almost fourth was like our actual first. A party, a lot of alcohol, a little too much laughing, and the next thing either of us knew we were kissing, our lips and tongues communicating in a language we were both desperately afraid to speak aloud.

Someone stumbled into the room we were in and she let me go, pulling her hand from my jeans without hesitation, leaving me frustrated, without release and, very quickly, alone. I wanted to be mad, to tell her that this, whatever it was, was over…but I couldn't. I needed her…I needed her so bad I could taste it.

I muffled a sob behind my hand and, after finding Andre, convinced him to take me home.

When I got there I cried for hours, leaving my face puffy and red and my eyes wet. My parents asked me what was wrong but I couldn't tell them; I couldn't tell anyone that I was dying inside. There wasn't anything I could do about it anyway.

The real fourth time was…unforgiving. It was like she was angry with me, for making her feel, for letting myself let her do this, and she showed it not with words but gestures.

Her fingers pounded inside of me, her teeth nipping at my neck and collarbone until they were recovered in marks. Her free hand twisted my breasts raw, making me cry out from both pain and pleasure. And, when I came hard against her, she immediately pushed me away.

"Get out," she hissed, looking down at me with eyes so dark that I barely recognized them as hers.

I scrambled into my clothes, out of her house, and into mine where I collapsed on my bed, to numb to even cry. It was then I realized something had changed between us. Somewhere along the way this – us – had become much more than a series of sexual encounters, our in-betweens filled with biting comments and lingering glances. Somewhere along the way I'd…fallen for her, for real. I loved her, was in love with her; I was in love with Jade West and it was killing me.

I didn't think I could do it again but, at the same time, I knew I couldn't stop. I needed her and if this was the only way…I didn't know if I'd make it. I didn't know if I could survive. Every time I saw her all that I wanted to do was crush her to me and show the whole world that she was mine. I didn't care about the ramifications; I just cared about how she felt whether or not she felt anything at all. I just…I needed to know.

The fifth time was different. It was slow, almost painfully so, and it felt…real. Like it meant something…more.

It was afterwards; we'd been basking in afterglow for who knew how long, our naked bodies still pressed together beneath the sheet she'd pulled up. The pages of the history project we'd been working on were scattered, covering both the bedspread and the floor; we'd have to do at least half of it over again but, at the time, I didn't much care.

At some point she'd drifted off and I'd started staring, something I often did when she was too distracted to tell me not too. The first thing I noticed was how she looked like a different person when she was asleep, younger…softer. Her eyes were closed, of course, but her lashes fluttered daintily across the tops of her cheekbones; Jade had lashes to kill for.

I'd been watching her for a while, that I knew; the shallow rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheet comforting in its constancy. It was a rhythm I would have gladly fallen asleep to if I hadn't been afraid of waking up next to the real her, the one who didn't want to admit that there was anything between us, anything more than sex anyway.

I shifted away from her and sighed, unhappily faced with the idea of leaving. We had never stayed together long after being like this…even though it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest the moment we separated. But it didn't matter what I felt because she didn't feel anything; it was what I deserved for falling in love with the girl everyone secretly called 'Ice Queen.'

I moved to the edge of the mattress and threw my legs off, reaching for my jeans which lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Suddenly her hand was on my wrist, making me jump in surprise. "What's doin'?" she asked, her words slurred from sleep.

"Getting dressed," I said, holding up my jeans so she could see.

"Why?" she asked, blinking.

God, even with her eyes bleary with sleep she was beautiful. It wasn't fair; it just wasn't fair that I loved her so much, that I needed her so badly. You'd think I'd have gotten used to it; after all, nothing about this – us – was fair. But it never got any better, no matter how I tried. "Because I don't really wanna show your neighbors my birthday suit," I said, accompanying my lame joke with a half-smile.


I raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm not really into exhibitionism-"

"No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis. "Why are you leaving?"

"Oh," It wasn't exactly a new thing, me leaving after. Maybe she only liked it when she told me to get out. I cleared my throat. "Well, I…uh…I thought you were asleep," I finished lamely, still gripping my jeans in my offhand.

"I was; I'm not anymore," she said, sitting up and putting us on eye level. "So…?"

"So…?" I repeated.

"So why are you leaving, Tori?" she asked, looking at me with wide blue eyes.

I blinked. "You called me Tori," I said, unable to keep the suspicion from my tone.

She nodded. "That's your name," she said, her voice carrying a distinct note of amusement.

"But you never call me that,"

Slowly, as though trying not to spook me, she slid her hand from my wrist and gently separated each of my fingers with her own. "I just…I thought it was time for a change,"

It was a gesture completely out of character for her and one that took me completely by surprise. "A…a change?" I repeated, my eyes glued to our entwined hands.

"Yeah," she said. "If you, you know, want it to…change,"

I would have smiled at the idea of her being nervous if it wasn't for the fact that I could barely catch my breath and my heart was beating far too loudly for my brain to give the order to my lips. "A-are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"I…uh…yeah. I guess I am," she said, her eyes flicking nervously around the room before returning to my face.

"What about Beck?" I asked, though my stomach clenched even as the words left my mouth. What would I do if she took it all back, if she said she needed him more than me? It would kill me, I was sure.

"He…he knows something's going on with me; he's known for a while, I think,"

"Then," I began. "Why…pretend?"

"Because…Beck's sweet and kind and everything I'm supposed to want and we…we made sense to…everybody else so I let it go on. And I was okay with that…until you showed up, Vega," She took a breath. "And now you're really…important to me. And I don't think…I don't want to hide anymore," she said haltingly. "I can't," she added in a whisper, so quietly in fact that I almost didn't hear.

"So, whaddaya say, Tori?" she asked after a moment, her thumb caressing the backside of my hand. "Be my girl?"

I blinked; it was just so much to take in. I was…important. I was important to her. And she…she needed me. She hadn't said it outright but she didn't have to; I could see it in her eyes. There was vulnerability there, a kind that I'd never seen before, not from her. She was letting me in, offering me the thing – the person – I wanted more than my next breath.

I didn't hesitate.

"Yeah, Jade; I'll be your girl,"

She smiled then, a real honest-to-goodness s-m-i-l-e, the force behind it enough to power the whole world. The idea that I could make her smile like that…it was unbelievable to me and I couldn't help but hope that it was a smile only I'd ever see, selfish as it was. "I love you, Vega," she whispered as she guided me back onto the bed.

"You know what, West?" I asked, the corners of my mouth turning up in a smile. "I love you too,"

So...what do you guys think? let me know!

R&R please and thank you :D