Author's Note: Hiya! This is hasapi, back from a very, very long vacation from Gilmore Girls fan-fiction. This is only a one-shot, so don't go asking for anymore! Of course, my overactive imagination might decide to continue it at a later date, but it would be very later.

This fic was inspired by Kate Chopin's short story, "The Storm," and tempered by Edith Wharton's novel The Age of Innocence. The pairing is for my good friends Lia and PhoenixRae.

Pairing: Rory/Tristan (Trory), Rory/Jason (new character)

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls or associated characters. They belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB—may the gods bless them for giving us such wonderful characters to work with!

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Rory Gilmore-Munsell sat the bag of groceries on the counter with a satisfied smile. She had everything she needed to make dinner tonight, which was going to be meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was nice—no, wonderful—to know that everything was planned, and everything was ready.

Just like everything else in her life, in fact. Well, maybe she hadn't planned to get married a month after she graduated from Yale, but she had to admit it had been a pleasant surprise when Jason had proposed to her… She blinked her eyes quickly to keep back the tears that threatened. It happened whenever she remembered how he had proposed—it had been in Stars Hollow, on the bridge. That bridge had contained so many memories…

But she had said yes. She loved him, dearly. And after being married for six years, she had to say that she still loved him, and probably more so.

"Mom!" a voice yelled as the door slammed closed. Rory flinched. She still couldn't get her daughter to stop doing that. Fifty-five pounds of little girl slammed into her before Terry wrapped her arms around her mother's legs. "Mommy! I have to tell you what happened at school today! It was so much fun, mommy!"

Rory laughed, picking up her daughter and propping her on her hip. "What is it, Terry? What did you do that was so much fun?" she asked, walking out of the kitchen. The groceries would wait to be put away.

"They went on a field trip," Jason whispered in her ear, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist.

Rory jumped slightly, swatting his arm. "Don't do that!" she said playfully. She sighed, leaning back into his arms.

"Rough day, hon?" Jason asked. She could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed her just behind her ear.

"The worst," Rory smiled, turning her head around to give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Mommy!" Terry whined.

"Sorry, dear," Rory grinned, turning back to her demanding five-year-old. "So, what happened at school today?"

"We went to a museum! We saw lots of old stuff and it was really cool. Ron Everett wouldn't stop talking to me though," Terry said, wrinkling her nose. "I told the teacher on him, though, so he stopped."

Rory chuckled. Terry was so adorable. She had a feeling that Ron had a crush on Terry, but she didn't say anything. Terry would only find it disgusting; the thought made Rory grin again.

"She was talking about it the whole way home," Jason grinned at her. "Come here, munchkin," he said, pulling Terry into his arms. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was Terry's favorite movie, and she always got her very attentive father to watch it with her. "Let's let mommy go start dinner, alright?" he asked, taking her towards the entertainment room.

Rory grinned after her husband, turning back to the kitchen. Life was easy now. Almost predictable. Terry had started kindergarten three months earlier, and they had slowly slipped into a routine. Jason would pick her up at the school directly after it was over at 3:30 before taking her to the paper, where he would finish out his work day. After that they would both come home, Rory or Jason would make dinner (they traded off, though Jason usually ended up cooking more, since Rory's cooking skills were limited to meat loaf, burgers, and pasta), they would eat around 6:30, clean up afterwards, do something together as a family… And then the fun started.

Around 8:30 or 9:00, they would always try to put Terry to bed. She, however, always had different ideas. She would fight them for at least a half hour, usually more, but in the end she was always in bed by ten. Afterwards, both Jason and Rory would take out the work they had taken home to finish, and then, by midnight, they would go to bed.

Not that they necessarily slept. But they did go to bed.

Rory grinned, peeling the potatoes. No, they certainly did not fall asleep as soon as they were in bed. Finishing the potatoes, Rory wiped her hands on the apron she had donned and went after the knife to chop them up. "Damn!" she muttered. She'd forgotten to get the water boiling. Well, no time like the present.

By the time the water was boiling and the potatoes were cooking, it was nearly six o'clock. The meat loaf was in the oven, and she was working on the green beans—not that there was much to work on. They were frozen. So she dumped them into the pan and sprinkled some soy sauce on them, as well as some garlic. Jason had showed her how to make them; in fact, it was thanks to him that she could do this much in the kitchen without burning it down.

Rory breathed in the scents of the food cooking and smiled. It was very…satisfying, somehow, to be able to cook a meal without burning it. She now turned her attention to the table, setting it with three plates, knives, and forks.

She frowned. She was done. Wasn't she? Something was missing. "Ah!" she gasped. The cake. She had ordered the cake the day before, and she had forgotten to pick it up while she had been at the grocery store. She liked to surprise Jason every now and then for no reason. His birthday wasn't for another month, and Terry's had been the day before school started.

Quickly taking off her apron, she glanced at the clock. If she hurried, she would be back before the food was ready.

Rory raced out of the kitchen and grabbed her keys, careful not to slam the door as she nearly ran to the car. She waved to Mrs. Harvis across the street as the older lady began her daily walk around the block. She got into the car and drove two miles over the speed limit—she was still Rory—to the grocery store. Luckily, the lights were with her and she hadn't stopped at all. She rushed into the store and towards the back, where she knew the bakery was.

She swore. The bakery was closed; she'd gotten there too late. She should have remembered—it closed at six.

"Rory?" a bewildered male voice asked.

She spun around and gasped. "Tristan?" she asked. She hadn't seen him since her sophomore year in college, when her grandparents had held a society party. He'd asked her to dance—and she had said yes. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he shot back.

"I live here," Rory said, raising an eyebrow. "I've lived here for the past six years, and I've never seen you here before."

Tristan smirked. She would never know how he managed to look sheepish at the same time. "I bought out the chain," he said. "Dad always said I was good at what I did."

Rory kept her eyebrow raised. "Really," she deadpanned. "You bought out a chain of grocery stores."

Tristan nodded, keeping his eyes on her face. "Yep; got it for a nice price, too. So, what made Stars Hollows' little princess swear?"

Rory scowled, glancing back at the bakery. "I was going to pick up a cake, but I got here too late."

"For what?" Tristan asked.

Rory grinned, shrugging. "No reason."

"You're getting a cake for no reason."

"Sure!" Rory grinned. "Jason and I like to surprise each other like that sometimes."

"Boyfriend?" Tristan asked.

"Husband," Rory said, holding up her hand, a gold band twinkling in the fluorescent light, a diamond ring next to it—her engagement ring. "Six years. We have a daughter, too. She's five years old, just started kindergarten this year."

"Interesting," was all Tristan said.

"What about you?" Rory asked nervously, twisting her wedding ring about her finger. "Are you married yet?"

A corner of Tristan's mouth quirked up. "Not quite yet. But we've been dating for almost three years, so I figure it'll be sometime soon."

"Anyone I know?" Rory almost swore at herself. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl around Tristan. Some things never changed—he was still as good-looking as he had been eight years earlier.

"I should hope so—it's Madeline."

"You're kidding," Rory said, her mouth dropping open. "You're dating her?"

Tristan nodded. "Yup. We met up at one of your grandmother's society parties. Our parents were pushing us together anyway, so…" Tristan shrugged. "We figured we'd make it easy on them."

Rory shook her head. "I can't believe that." Then she caught sight of the clock, and swore again. "I need to get home; the meat loaf's going to burn—"

"You cook?" Tristan asked, his eyebrows raised.

Rory scowled at him. "Tristan…" she said warningly.

"Alright, alright," he grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. "But you can't leave without that cake. Give me a minute, and I'll have someone get it for you."

Rory frowned, watching him go. She really needed to get home, but if he could get the cake…

There was also the fact that she didn't entirely want to leave. She hadn't seen Tristan in forever, and when she'd last seen him, she'd entertained a small crush on him. It seemed that crush had come back full force, no matter that she was now married.

"Miss Gilmore-Munsell?" a man asked, pushing a cart.

Rory smiled. "That's me," she affirmed. "Do I have to sign anything?"

The man waved a hand. "Don't worry about it—Mr. DuGrey took care of everything."

"Alright," Rory said, picking up the cake and walking towards the check-out line. The "ten items or less" was empty, and she quickly paid for her purchase before going outside and getting into the car. Again, she drove a mere two miles over the speed limit, and made it to the house just seconds before the meat loaf would have started to burn. In fact, it was a very pleasant brown, and the potatoes were very soft.

She drained them, mashed them, and seasoned them, put everything into serving plates and set it on the table. "Dinner's ready!" she called down the stairs to the entertainment room.

"Coming!" Jason called back.

Rory grinned as Jason and Terry bounded up the stairs. "Ugh, you beat me," Jason sighed as Terry threw herself against her mother's legs again. The little girl giggled, looking up at her mother. Rory smiled down at her.

"Time for dinner, kid," Rory said, ruffling her daughter's hair.

"Meat loaf," Terry whined, sitting down.

Rory coughed back a laugh, sitting down beside her daughter and across from her husband.

Dinner passed quickly, and as they finished eating, Rory smiled mischievously at her husband. "I'll be right back, kids," she grinned. She grabbed the cake out of the car, shutting the door softly behind her. Bringing it into the kitchen, she opened the top…

There was a note. She raised her eyebrows, glancing over it.

Rory,

I'd like to see you again. Call me at…

- Tristan

Quickly tucking the note in her pocket, Rory cut three pieces out of the cake and placed them on plates, bringing them out to her family.

***

The next day at the station, Rory was having a slow day. She'd finished all the work she needed done—plus some that she didn't need done for a while—and she wasn't on the air until noon.

Tristan's short note had made her very jumpy, and she and Jason hadn't made love that night. She'd just fallen asleep in his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Rory reached into her pocket and pulled out the note. She reached over to the phone and dialed the number.

"Tristan DuGrey speaking."

Rory's heart skipped a beat. "Tristan?" she asked, twirling her pencil in her fingers.

"Rory, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," she said quietly.

"Are you busy this afternoon?" he asked.

"Not really…" She wiped her palm on her trousers.

"Meet me at the park?"

"Alright. How's three o'clock work for you?" Rory asked nervously.

"It works fine," Tristan said. "I'll see you there."

***

She was not cheating on her husband. This was not a date. She was simply visiting with an old friend.

But if that were true, why was she so nervous? And why hadn't she told Jason about it?

Rory shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. She would think about it later.

"Rory!" Tristan called from where he was standing at a bench. When she reached him, he said, "I was beginning to think you chickened out."

Rory sighed. "No. So why did you want to see me?" she asked.

"Do I need a reason?" Tristan quirked a brow.

"Tristan…" Rory warned.

"Alright, sorry." Tristan sighed. "I just wanted to talk to you. I haven't seen you in eight years." There was a brief pause during which neither of them said anything. "I couldn't stop thinking about you last night," Tristan confessed.

"I…I couldn't stop thinking about you either," Rory whispered, not meeting his eyes. "But I can't do this, I'm married… Oh, God, I can't believe I'm cheating on Jason…" Rory started pacing. "How could I do this to him? He loves me! I love him! Don't I?"

Tristan reached out and grabbed Rory's arms. "Rory," he said quietly. "Calm down."

"But—"

Sighing, Tristan pulled her to him, leaned down, and kissed her.

It was everything Rory had imagined it would be—and more. She would have sworn stars were exploding, and her heart was beating so fast…

But something was wrong. Something was missing, and this time she knew what it was.

Rory pulled away from the kiss. "I can't do this," she whispered, backing away. "I can't do this," she repeated like a mantra, walking backwards faster before she finally turned and ran.

She knew that the look on Tristan's face would forever be burned into her memory, but she couldn't do this. She couldn't cheat on Jason, for more reasons than one.

Unlocking the door, she walked into her house and collapsed onto the sofa. Rory closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Rory?"

She opened her eyes—Jason was standing in the door to the living room. She smiled weakly.

"Rory?" Jason asked worriedly, walking over to where she was sitting on the couch and kneeling in front of her. "Is everything okay? Are you alright?"

"Jason," Rory said, taking a deep breath and leaning forward, taking his hands in hers, "I need to tell you something."