Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls or any of the characters affiliated with the show.

Chapter One: Pass Me By

She felt empty. The hole inside of her was so large that it almost made her want to explode. It was a very conflicting feeling, really. Unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life.

Well, she thought, she had never done anything that she could compare this to. She wasn't heartbroken. She knew that Dean loved her, he had admitted that much the other night when he was making love to her. God, that sounded funny, even in her own head. So if he loved her, she couldn't be broken hearted, right?

Shame, embarrassment, anger, regret. All words that flashed through her mind. She dismissed them. Maybe that was how she was supposed to feel. After all, she knew right from wrong and she had always assumed that those emotions should accompany sex with a married man. Yet they didn't seem to authentically describe what it was she was feeling.

"Rory?"

She looked up quickly, being called out of her thoughts and back into the hotel lobby by her grandmother. Emily was staring at her expectantly. Rory snuck a look over at the man behind the desk. He had the same expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I got distracted. What did you say?"

"I said, the hotel has made a grievous mistake. They seem to have lost our reservation, although I don't know how. All of the suites with a view of the Thames are all booked up and this man insists that he can't bump anyone. He can either give us a suite without a view or adjoining rooms with a view."

Rory blinked at her grandmother. Her mind felt blank, blank and empty...and full. "You choose, Grandma. I'm okay with either."

"We'll take the suite without the view, then," Emily said briskly. "However, I do expect that you will give us a reserved table in the dining room as well as complimentary spa reservations."

"Ma'am-"

Rory looked around the ornate lobby. There was a heavy flow of activity as well-dressed people came through the hotel, many of them accompanied by a bellboy with carts of luggage. Expensive looking luggage, she noted. None of it was scuffed up with those mysterious grease spots that always seemed to appear on her own suitcases when they showed up at baggage claim. She squinted her eyes to get a better look at a woman across the lobby. She looked an awful lot like that woman from the DAR who was always at the Gilmore Christmas party…

"All right, let's go up," Emily said, leading Rory towards the elevator. "We have a spa credit, an excellent table at dinner, and he is permitting us to have an early check-in. We didn't really want the view anyway," she insisted. "They claim it gives a historic view of the city, but really it just looks out over that awful pedestrian bridge that is such an eye sore."

"Grandma-"

"Yes?"

"Isn't that Mrs. Locke?"

"Where?"

"Over there, by the piano?"

Emily stopped and cast her attention to the piano in question. "Why, yes it is. Addison had told me that she would be in Paris this week, what a surprise."

She steered Rory over towards her friend.

"Emily!" the woman exclaimed in a cheery greeting. "Well, shame on you for not telling us that you would be in town!"

"A last minute girls' trip," Emily said with a wave of her hand. "You remember my granddaughter Rory?"

"Why yes of course, what a pleasure it is to see you again my dear," Mrs. Locke cooed.

"Thank you, you too," Rory responded, simply.

"I was just telling Joan last night about that fabulous fundraiser you organized for the Hartford Horticultural Society last month."

"Oh, is Joan here too?" Emily asked.

"Well of course, you know that if Carolann and Cynthia book a trip that Joan simply must follow."

Emily leaned in towards her friend. "Then I assume that means that the third Mrs. Cartwright is here as well?"

Mrs. Locke smiled wickedly. "You know she is because she needs to keep her eye on the second Mrs. Dugrey."

The two women snickered maliciously. Rory's drifting mind snapped back into attention. "Dugrey?" she asked.

"Shhh, not so loud darling," Mrs. Locke said in a mock whisper. "I swear that woman comes like a puppy when she is called. And I can only stand her if I have a cocktail in hand."

Emily laughed. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Rory said quickly. "I went to school with a Dugrey."

"Ah yes. Michael's son," Emily responded. "Wasn't he at your sixteenth birthday party?" She didn't wait for her granddaughter to respond. "I can't believe he was ever in my home. All I ever hear now are stories that make my skin crawl."

"I wouldn't speak too loudly, Emily," Mrs. Locke warned. "He is here too. I dare say it's a poor attempt at keeping him out of trouble back home. He wasn't a friend of yours, was he darling?"

"No," Rory said truthfully.

"Well thank heavens for that. She is a good girl, Emily. Anyway, I must run. Let's do dinner?"

"We have a table reserved in the Blue Room," Emily answered.

The women exchanged goodbyes and Rory and Emily continued their walk towards the elevator.

Once safely inside the privacy of the elevator, Rory said, "I didn't know all of your friends would be here."

Emily laughed gayly. "Just a few, you know how these things go. You give one good hotel recommendation and then all of a sudden it is the place in town."

Rory did not, in fact, know how these things go. But she did know her grandmother. And she knew that it was no coincidence that half of Hartford was in this hotel with them.

"We will still have plenty of time, just us girls," Emily promised as the doors swished open onto their floor.

Rory didn't know which prospect was more daunting, that of a vacation surrounded by society matrons or that of one with only her grandmother for companionship.


The Blue Room was, as it turned out, a vibrant red. The walls were papered in an expensive looking fabric that shimmered in the soft chandelier light. Rory instinctively thought about sharing the idiosyncrasy with her mother. It took her a second to register that part of that hole consuming her was made up of the fight with Lorelai. If she were being very truthful with herself, she would acknowledge that the fight was the bigger reason she had accepted her grandmother's plane ticket. But now was not the time for being honest, it was time for following the hostess and taking her seat.

"The room is red," Rory whispered to her grandmother after they had taken their seats.

"Yes, quite lovely, isn't it?" Emily agreed, looking around quickly, not really taking in any of the ornate finishings the dining room had to offer.

"Well, it is, but it's called the Blue Room," Rory countered.

"And so?" Emily replied, picking up her menu.

"It's red."

"I can see that."

"It's called Blue."

Emily glanced over her menu. "Oh you know those English," she said, waving away any further comment from Rory regarding the blueness of the room.

Rory quickly pushed away the wave of longing she felt for her mother. She reached for her own menu. She was a big girl. She could do this on her own, without her mother.

"Mother?"

The word, spoken out loud, caused Rory to jump. She looked up and saw none other than Tristan Dugrey towering over the table at which they were seated. Speechless, confused, she glanced quickly from Tristan to her grandmother, then back to Tristan.

"Mother, is that you?"

"Young man, I do not know what you are playing at, but would you please excuse us from your charade?" Emily commanded swiftly.

Tristan cocked his head, squinting at Emily. "No," he said slowly. "I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken. You see, I heard she was staying in the hotel. She ran off such a long time ago that I have forgotten what she looks like."

One glance at the horrified look on Emily's face brought words back into Rory's vocabulary.

"Tristan? What do you think you are doing?"

He turned his body and attention fully to her. "Why, Mary Gilmore. I thought that was you. Care to help me find her? We can look here, maybe the pool, maybe my room?"

"Tristan!" Rory snapped at the same instant that Emily was spitting out a very cold "Young man!"

He smirked. "Clearly I am just joking."

"Well neither of us find your little bit funny," Rory said. She realized she was sitting defensively, arms crossed over her chest, smoke practically fuming from her nostrils. She did not alter her stance.

"Ah, well," he said with a carefree shrug. "If you see the dear Mrs. Cartwright, do tell her that I am looking for her."

Tristan sauntered off, hands in his pocket. The women he left behind took a moment to compose themselves.

"So that was the Dugrey boy?" Emily asked.

Rory nodded.

"And why did he attend your birthday party? Did you used to be friends with that hooligan?"

Hooligan. Lorelai would have loved that, Rory thought quickly. Ruffian, scoundrel, rogue! she could hear her mother chiming in.

"No, he was always like that," she said out loud. "In high school he was full of little jokes that were for his own private amusement. I never was friends with him. You were the one who invited him to my party."

"Hmph," Emily said, picking up her menu. "Why did he call you Mary?"

"Because he never bothered to learn my name in high school."

Emily squinted across the room towards Tristan's table. "I don't like it when I am wrong about someone."

Rory looked up from her own menu, searching for a response.

"Oh well," Emily added quickly. "It happens so rarely in our circle. And who can be surprised, really, with his cad of a father and whore of a mother."

"Grandma!" Rory whispered harshly.

"What?" Emily responded innocently. "Everyone in this room would agree with me."

Rory glanced around the red Blue Room. Tristan had taken a seat at a table with a man and a woman. Presumably his father and the second Mrs. Dugrey that her grandmother's friend had mentioned earlier.

The waiter approached but Rory's mind wandered away from his recitation of the specials on the menu. She replayed the whole scene with Tristan in her mind. The whole prank was lost on her. And even now, minutes later, she seethed with embarrassment. It was a familiar emotion attached to him, even though it had been years since they had spoken. She hadn't even thought of him since leaving Chilton a year ago.

Emily finished rattling off her complicated dinner request to the waiter. He turned expectantly to Rory. "I'll have the same," she said, not daring to admit that she hadn't listened to a word he had said.

"I didn't think you liked duck," Emily said as the waiter slipped away.

Rory groaned inwardly. Awesome. Duck. What was she doing here?

"So, what shall we do this week in London?" Emily asked brightly.

Rory thought for a moment. "Well, Mom and I were only here for a couple of days last summer, which didn't do the city justice."

"I'll say," Emily said. There was an edge of judgment in her voice. "A young girl needs to spend at least a week in London to really get a sense of the city. What would you like to see?"

"I made a list on the plane," Rory answered. She opened her purse and pulled out the sheet of notepaper and handed it to her grandmother.

"Westminster Abbey, the British Museum, the National Gallery...those are all wonderful choices. I was thinking we should do some shopping at Harrod's, and maybe tea at the Orangery in Kensington Gardens?"

"Sure, Grandma. I'm sure we can fit that all in."

"Did you go to any of these places with your mother last summer?"

"No, no. We did more of a pop culture tour. Abbey Road, double decker buses, and of course, retracing Hugh Grant's footsteps in Notting Hill…"

"I see," Emily responded coolly. "Well, it's a good thing that we are here until Friday, isn't it? Tomorrow we can start with the National Gallery. Then perhaps Tuesday we can go to Harrod's. Now I know you don't always love to shop with me, but I insist we have a girl's afternoon browsing through the most famous department store in the world. You won't deny me that, will you?"

"That sounds fun, Grandma."

"Oh good. Oh, and the wine is here," Emily announced as the waiter approached the table. Rory took advantage of the distraction to look around the room again. Her eyes fell squarely on Tristan, who was staring right at her. She turned her attention quickly back to her grandmother.

"Now, Rory, I know that we don't serve you wine at home, but this is just a little wine with dinner. You won't tell your mother, will you?"

Rory smiled and shook her head. "No, I can promise you I won't say a thing to her."

She took a sip of the cold white wine in front of her. She liked the gentle bite and the way she could feel it trickle down her throat. She took another sip.

The story Emily had begun to tell was interrupted by the arrival of the woman they had bumped into in the lobby. The two women greeted each other enthusiastically. She looked around. He was still watching her. Rory took a third sip of wine.

"If you'll excuse me for a second, I'm just going to run to the lady's room," she said quickly. Their flow of conversation stopped for just a second as Emily nodded her understanding.

Rory slipped away and hurried across the room towards the sign marking the bathrooms.

In the bathroom, she ran her hands under the cool tap water. She pressed her wet hands to the back of her neck, trying to center herself. She was feeling boxed in. Completely surrounded by a room of people whom she wanted to avoid. She didn't want duck. Maybe she would just make her excuses to her grandmother and order a burger in her room. She grabbed a paper towel and dug through her purse to find a tip for the washroom attendant.

She fiddled with the clasp of her purse as she hurried out of the bathroom. And she hurried right into a solid mass of flesh. She looked up. Tristan's flesh, waiting for her outside the restroom door.

"Sorry," she mumbled, pushing past him.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her from returning to the dining room.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure my nose is adequately powdered before my duck is served," she answered dryly, tugging her arm free from his grasp.

"Not here," he said, jerking his head towards the bathroom. "Here. At this hotel."

"Traveling."

"With these people?"

"With my grandmother."

"Why?"

"Why are you?" she spat back. "And what do you think you were playing at with that little show at my table a few minutes ago?"

"It gets boring, I have to entertain myself somehow."

"By mortifying me in front of my grandmother?" She was almost yelling now.

He shrugged carelessly. "I like that I can still get a rise out of you. You let yourself be such an easy target."

Rory stared him dead in the eyes. She let a second pass before she said evenly, "Stay the hell away from me."

She turned and walked back to her table. She didn't turn as she heard Tristan say "When will you learn, Mary? The chase just makes the prey more desirable."