Never Before...

Title: Never Before...
Author: Moose
Rating: PG/Rather Mild PG-13
Warnings: The information about Thallie as portrayed here is entirely fabricated for use in my story, and not to be taken as truth. The events, aswell, are merely the products of my Calculus-induced state of mind. Basically: Make fun of me, not Thallie, because, apart from the original inspiration and consent she gave me, she really had nothing to do with the occurrences portrayed here; IT'S NOT HER FAULT!!! Also, I know I said it would be from Tyce's point of view, but it's in the third person (*looks ashamed and prepares to be pelted with food*)...
Summary: Tyce Diorio is drowning in the pressure of the competition... Until a certain young lady comes to assuage his desire for success. What happens after that will serve to confuse him, yet make certain things so startlingly clear. Mild Benjelle (You guys know I can't help myself!!! : D : D) in addition to the Tyceallie (No, this is NOT a Tyce/Natalie pairing!!! See above for the root of '-allie'). LONG LIVE MYCEALLIE!!! (Yes, those are three names ; D... I'll shutup and get on with the story, now.)
Complete

I had a banner for this fic, but photobucket won't let me upload it - *tear* Oh well, Anywho:

This odd little one-shot is dedicated to all my bestest Benjellies, but is obviously a shout-out to my pal Thallie! I love ya, my fellow Tyce-stalker!! Now on with the crazies *ahem*:


As the competition progressed, the stress seeped through all barriers to shamelessly bind itself to all involved, not merely to the contestants. It preyed on all enjoyment, all drive, and all self-confidence one could possess, leaving merely that empty force to push them through the week, to will them to rehearse and perform. He had recently been caught up in such a ritual. The first week had been a vast success, his choreography earning those he had worked with the title of "The Couple to Beat." Weeks later, he was once more incorporated into the competition, producing from his time two works of art: one a playful reminiscing of the dance of the 50's, and another that touching contemporary piece that brought tears upon those who looked on. Yet another few weeks down the line, his broadway of a preachy feel made the judges believe.

It was as of late that he was remarked as having lost his touch, that the routines no longer received their rave reviews, and he was made to feel responsible for the disheartening of dancers. Were those tears in her eyes his fault? Had he ruined all chances they once had? These questions clicked through his brain as though on repeat, one by one ticked off, only to be brought up later. He found himself beginning to lose his grip on that ledge he clung to futiley. He'd lost all focus, and all will to succeed. He yearned to serve his dancers to the best of his ability, and to prove the judges wrong, yet was overcome by the realization that he would merely fail in the end.

He could not do this on his own. Feeling himself shattering under the pressure constantly forced upon him, he resolved to find someone to assist him, to help him compose something of value, rather than the worthless ramblings of movement he was sure he had been sending out as of late. The choice was a difficult one to make. He had many a friend who was a dancer, yet all were male, and all uncannily attractive. He had hit a dry spell in the romance department, and, being vulnerable as he currently was, he knew such an assistant would be more distraction than asset. No, he needed to find a woman, to allow himself to focus solely on the dance, rather than those urges he had left unfulfilled.

He asked around, eventually finding a friend who knew of such a candidate. Her name was Thallie, she was 22, and lived fairly near the studio. She came bearing credentials up the wazu, not to mention the whisperings of her unmatchable work ethic. She was welcomed immediately.

The first day was an awkward one. She was quick to lend a hand, yet seemed to do so cautiously, as though afraid to be near him. He caught her subtle glances from the corner of his eye, yet she would always turn away. He could merely smirk to himself. Just the same, the choreography appeared to be coming along quite fortuitously, greatly improved by her assistance.

The week progressed in much the same fashion. She had obviously grown more comfortable in his presence, but in those down times, though they were few and far between, he could still manage to find satisfaction in those simple things he casually detected. On one occassion, he found his eyes had wandered to the screen of her laptop, which she had inadvertently left ajar as she stepped outside the room. He had heard some talk of various websites devoted to the show, but had yet to come across this one. It appeared to be a fanfiction site, and pulled up at that moment was a piece with her name attached to it. The page was scrolled down to the base, at which he could see a large display of various pictures... All of which featured him. He could not resist the urge to bring his hand down upon the scroll pad of the keyboard, adjusting the page to see the name of the poster. 'Moose?' he thought to himself, 'What the fuzz kind of name is Moose? Crazy fans...' Though he feebly attempted to convince himself of the insanity that lay behind those posts, it was only a thin film of a façade to conceal that nagging feeling deep within the pit of his stomach. He couldn't be certain, but it felt oddly like... Excitement. As the creaking of a door echoed through the mirrored studio walls, he propelled himself away from the computer, pulling off the act as best he could to divert any suspicion she may have had. Fortunately, his dancing technique allowed him to do so gracefully.

Soon he was being called upon once more to create a piece for two choice contestants. It was an early morning when the two walked in. Thallie had been leaned casually against the wall, fighting desperately against that overwhelmingly convincing power that is sleep as it whispered those temptingly sugarcoated words in her ear, yet was fighting a losing battle. she had slowly begun to slide down to the floor, the coffee in her hand tipping progressively to the side. Suddenly, the door swung open, and an overly-chipper voice began to cloud her mind, "Ladies and gentleman, presenting my partner: Donyelle!" She was quickly jolted from her revery, and the rotation of her hand was made complete, as she spilled the steaming liquid first upon the white surface of her shirt, and next upon the floor. There was many a raised eyebrow in the room, and she wished merely to be invisible, to disappear from this not so flattering situation into a deep and remorseful oblivion. Finally, she heard laughter, and chose to peek up in an anxious curiosity. Now in front of her was the source of the voice. He extended his hand, introducing himself. "Hi, I'm Benji," he said with the friendly smile upon his face that she had so often viewed from the comfort of her living room couch. If only she could be there now, rather than in the position she was in, humiliating herself in front of those she idolized the most. "Thallie..." she muttered quietly, praying to God for him to strike her down that very instant, to end her current agony.

The four of them spent the day rehearsing the latest broadway choreography, as she subtly snuck out during breaks to determinately hit her heat against the wall...over and over again. With each return, her gaze fell more curiously to Tyce, always kept captivated at his reactions. Her heart would skip three beats at each glance, at each shy smile. She could swear it was merely the product of the overly-romanticized mind that Benjelle had brought upon her, yet something in her head alerted her to his every move. All he did was strangely reminiscent of a young boy and his crush.

Tyce could not help but stare each time his eyes fell upon her subtle features. Her beauty was undeniable, true, yet confusion embraced him with every glance. She was amazing, but for someone else, not for him. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about a woman he had known for a week... He wasn't supposed to feel this way about a woman. It wasn't simply that he felt comfortable in her presence, though that was certainly true, as well. It was that he felt elated in her presence, surrounded by a warmth and glow that penetrated every layer of his being, leaving him empty when she left.

Alas, the day concluded, and the two choreographers set off to leave the couple to practice on their own, should they elect to do so. They were waiting for the elevator when a thought suddenly came to Thallie - She's forgotten her laptop! Letting Tyce know she'd be back in a moment, she walked back to the room in which Benji and Donyelle were still present. Opening the door, she heard a quiet noise. A noise that sounded oddly like... a moan? She peered in and was shocked by the sight before her. The two were on the floor, Donyelle upon his lap. One of her hands had been carefully placed at the base of his neck, the other entangled in his hair, pulling him ever toward her. His hands had begun their journey firmly planted at her waist, but had snuck their way beneath her shirt, roaming her back wildly. Their tongues crashed together, moving as one. As the passion rose, their movements more bold in their exploration, Thallie heard a small click, joined soon by Donyelle's characteristic giggle. Based on the placement of Benji's hands, she could only conclude that had been the clasp of a bra undone. Taking this as a clue, Thallie quickly grabbed the laptop, left rather fortuitously near the door, and left once more. No cosmic force could keep her away from http://aftersytycd.blogspot.com/, tonight...

She returned to the elevator with a smile upon her face. When questioned about it, she merely shook her head, motioning for them to proceed on there way. And so they did. They descended to the lowest floor, walked out the door, and silently greeted the night air upon the streets of LA. They had begun a ritual of a nightly walk, a walk back to her apartment. On some nights, it would be one of a comfortable silence, one of contemplation. On others, they would laugh together, simply enjoying the other's presence. Tonight it was one of longing glances, of wordless stares, and of unfulfilled temptation. They spoke of everything, yet of nothing at all. They're was a quiet understanding and acknowledgment of the friendship that had taken root, yet each silently wondered if it could possibly be more, both thinking themselves solitary in these musings. Alas, they reached her door. Rather than proceeding in at once, Thallie simply stood there, staring at him as he was at that moment in time, basked in the soothing moonlight. Tonight It was a moon of love, an onlooker and overseer of all in this world.

Tyce saw that very same moonlight reflected in her eyes. As he gazed upon her features, he found himself nearing her face. With each movement, he approached her, until, alas, his face came to rest a mere breath from hers. Her breath hitched in her throat as he stared deeply through her eyes, touching all within her through the sharp penetration brought on by his gaze. He abruptly brought his lips to meet hers. In shock, her lips had parted with reaction, presenting him with an ideal opportunity to meet her tongue with his. Eventually, she gave in. His actions were unexpected and out of character, yet he'd never felt this way about a woman before.

Perhaps the girls on the blog could wait until morning... just this once

The sunlight streamed in through her window the next morning, gently easing her from her quiet slumber. She smiled as she remembered the night before. After they had confessed their feelings on the steps of her building, they had climbed the stairs to her door. They spent the night on the couch, simply sitting together, basking in the warmth of their newfound connection. Rising carefully so as to leave him in peace, she rose and walked the short distance to her desk, opening her laptop. Soon she began to type, "Taylor! Moose! I have so much to tell you..."





Th-th-th-th-th-th-that's it, folks! To Thallie (and, well, everyone else, too, I schpose): I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't post it when i was supposed to, I'm sorry it's not from Tyce's point of view, and, above all else, I'm sorry it sucks so much! This is definitely not my best work, and it's completely rushed, and everything... and totally unrealistic... Please review anyway, though, and let me know what I can do to improve!!!

~ Moose ~