"You're going on a date with Tristan? Are you insane?"

Rory glared at Lane. "It's not a date. I am simply accompanying him to his grandfather's party so that he doesn't have to take some Barbie doll. I'm sure he'd rather be with one though."

She felt a brief pang, as though she was betraying him. She didn't really believe he'd rather be with someone like that any more.

Lane rolled her eyes.

"It's no good talking to her," Lorelai observed coming in with a basket of laundry. "I've tried telling her that going into the very entrance of hell with Satan is no way to start her summer but has she listened?"

"It might be hot though." Lane shrugged with a grin and Rory glared at her again.

"I suppose Satan would have to be hot," Lorelai agreed. "He'd certainly need to be to make an occasion like this worthwhile."

"What are you wearing?"

"I don't know. Maybe the dress I wore on grad night?"

"You can't wear that. He's already seen it," Lane said, scandalized.

"It doesn't matter because it's not a date!"

"You'd better hope the grandparents don't find out or it'll be a wedding instead of a date."

"Yes, they'd be so happy to see me with another juvenile delinquent." Again, the unaccountable pang as she felt guilty for betraying him again.

"Was that a Jess joke? Can we joke about him now? Is it time? Mommy's so proud!"

Lorelai hugged her as Rory grimaced, pulling back quickly to look at her daughter suspiciously. "Wait- does that mean you're over Jess?"

"What choice do I have? He's not coming back. Doesn't mean I'm ready to move on."

"Doesn't mean she's finished wallowing," Lane added, waving at the empty pizza boxes and ice cream tubs. "She's been wearing those pyjamas for three days."

"True. Rory, honey, even if it's not a date, I think you should shower before you go out."

Rory glared at them again. It was as well she'd spent the past year perfecting a Paris-like evil glare. It had been certain to come in useful sometime. Jess, of course, had been oblivious to it, even if she could have brought herself to use it on him when he'd deserved it. She shook her head, wishing again she'd been less of a doormat where he was concerned. It was just that she hadn't been able to help it. The funny thing was that she didn't think he'd been able to help the way he'd treated her either. She still believed that everything he'd done had been done for her in some twisted way. If he'd just been able to see that she hadn't cared if he could pay to take her out, if he'd just known that all she cared about was being with him, whether that was watching him serve coffee in Luke's, or lying on her sofa watching movies, maybe he'd still be here. Maybe he'd have graduated. Maybe they'd have gone to Prom with Lane and Dave and everything would have been the way it was meant to be.

"Rory? Are you still with us?"

"Yes, shower, dress," she mumbled, suddenly too tired to fight with them any more and too tired to figure out why she'd agreed to this non-date anyway.

"Good girl."

Lane and Lorelai looked at each other as she shuffled off towards the bathroom.

"Has she said anything to you?"

"No. You?"

"No." Lorelai paused, thinking. "Of course, she didn't tell me about Dean to begin with. Or Jess."

"There was probably a good reason for that. The Jess part, anyway."

"Yes. And Tristan is obviously so parent-friendly."

"At least he's grandparent-friendly." Rory returned, swathed in towels. "And now, if you two have finished discussing me, can you please leave me to get ready?"

"Are you sure you can manage on your own?"

"Call me later," Lane said hurriedly, watching the death glare reappear.

"I will. And contrary to your opinion, mother, I am now fully grown and have been able to dress myself for quite some time now."

"You're no fun. Call me later too."

"Won't you be here?"

"No- I'm doing inn stuff with Sookie later." Lorelai squeezed her arm on the way past. "Try not to get sucked into grandparent world- you know you won't like it."

"I know."

Rory sighed as the door closed and she was left alone. She knew they meant well but the constant warnings about Tristan and their attempts to determine if something was going on left her edgy. He wasn't the same boy any more- and if she was honest, he'd probably never been quite as evil as she'd painted him. She'd never wanted to admit that maybe they had had more chemistry than she and Dean. After Jess, it was something she could let herself see with hindsight. After Jess, everything looked different.

An hour later she was pulling into his grandfather's driveway, clad in the dress she'd worn to impress Jess the summer before, when she'd come back from Washington to find him wrapped around Shane. There were few of her belongings that didn't remind her of him in some way. Books were especially hard- every one he'd read had notes in the margins- every one she read that he hadn't made her wonder what he'd think of it. Sometimes she could still hear his reviews in her head, could still argue with him in her mind because she knew exactly what he'd say.

And then she had no choice but to get out of the car and hand her keys to the valet before she remembered she'd forgotten to call Tristan to tell him she was almost there. She looked anxiously at the people around the front door. They all looked as though they'd fit right in at one of her grandparents' functions. She had no desire to push her way through them and no idea where she'd find him anyway.

"Rory!"

Fortunately she was spared having to search for him as he came walking towards her across the lawn.

"You didn't call," he said accusingly. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I forgot to call," she said lamely. "But I wouldn't have not come without telling you."

"Come inside," he said, remembering that she was doing him a favour just by being here. Remembering that he was happy to see her, not too happy, just the right side of pleased to have a date- or a non-date- of whom his grandfather would approve. "Would you like a drink?"

"Sure."

She felt awkward, having little to say in a situation where she was with him by agreement. There was no precedent for this. He took her arm to guide her through the door with practiced chivalry that she felt should have grated, but somehow didn't. She'd always objected less to the formality of her grandparents' world than Lorelai had. Perhaps it was because she knew she could leave at any time, that it wasn't permanent and she could go home whenever she wanted to the monkey lamp and the worn out sofa and the Pop-Tarts.

"Tristan!"

They both turned at the sound of his name.

"Hello, grandfather."

"It's good to see you here. Who is your friend?"

"This is Rory Gilmore."

She held out her hand, surprised at the note of pride in his voice as he introduced her.

"Good afternoon, Rory. You're Richard and Emily's granddaughter?"

"Yes sir. It's good to meet you."

"And you. Your grandparents speak very highly of you."

"And Tristan speaks very highly of you."

Having bothered to come here she was keen to present him in the best light possible. Obviously that was something that mattered to him, though that in itself had surprised her.

Mr. DuGrey chuckled. "Don't believe everything you hear. Take her out to the terrace, Tristan- there's a jazz band out there, and I believe your grandparents are somewhere around as well, my dear. And make sure my grandson looks after you properly."

'I'm sure he will."

She waited until they were through the hall and into the big living room that opened onto the terrace before saying anything to Tristan.

"Was that all right?"

"That was perfect." He fought the urge to drop a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank you."

"Why is it so important for you to make a good impression on him?"

"I want him to let me move in. Being at home- they still treat me like they expect me screw up every other day. My grandfather sees it differently- I did something stupid, I got punished and I'd better have learned my lesson. He doesn't expect anything else."

They reached the French doors and walked outside to find people dancing to the jazz quartet.

"Do you want to dance?"

She looked at the couples nervously and shook her head. "It reminds me too much of my debutante ball. Or at least of practising for it. I have no co-ordination whatsoever."

"Relax," he said easily. "Just follow my lead."

She found herself suddenly in his arms, clumsily trying to follow him.

"I wouldn't have thought you were the type for a debutante ball."

"I'm not. It was my grandmother's idea."

"That figures. So who was the partner? Bagboy?"

She slapped him lightly, relaxed at last. "Don't call him that! And yes- it was Dean."

"That was probably before I left." She nodded. "So Jess happened sometime after that?"

She nodded again, reluctant to talk about him. "He said I looked like a cotton ball."

"What?"

"The night of the ball. Actually he was probably right."

"And you went out with him? What did I do wrong? I bought you PJ Harvey tickets and asked you out nicely."

"Jess never asked me out. He didn't have to," she added softly. "He wrecked my car and my wrist got broken and he left. And I went after him and he came back and I kissed him. And then I went away and he was with someone else but he got rid of the Rory curtain and he stared at me during the danceathon and then I broke up with Dean and then we were together. And then we got closer and he started working too much and then he left."

With her head hidden next Tristan's shoulder, she could cry again at the thought of it, no matter that she'd insisted the wallowing was over. He'd had difficulty following the garbled resume but no trouble in catching the gist of her hurt.

"I'm sorry."

She managed to look up at him with a watery smile. "This is one thing I'm pretty sure is not your fault."

"Rory? Rory, come and say hello to your grandmother. She's standing over there convinced you're ignoring her."

Richard Gilmore was striding towards them.

"Damn," she muttered, blinking violently and trying to pull herself out of Tristan's arms.

"Hi, Grandpa. You remember Tristan DuGrey?"

"Of course. And he still has excellent taste in friends."

"It's good to see you again, sir."

"Rory! Well, this is a wonderful surprise. You should have told us you were coming."

"Hi, Grandma."

Emily's eyes narrowed as she took in Rory's slightly red-rimmed eyes but for once she managed to say nothing.

"I presume your mother isn't here?"

"No- it's just me." Rory looked at Tristan pleadingly. If she'd rescued him from Louise, surely he could return the favour.

"I was just going to show Rory my grandfather's rose garden," he said.

"Oh, how lovely!" Emily exclaimed.

"Don't let us hold you back," Richard added.

She was grateful for anything that would get her out of having to answer their questions. Unfortunately she hadn't bargained for Tristan's. He seemed to have been hanging on for the opportunity to start an inquisition.

"Why didn't you go after Jess?"

"What?"

"Rory, I was there when you broke up with Dean the first time. You don't give up. Why did you give up on Jess?"

"He gave up on me. On us. He just left."

"You said you went after him when he left before."

"This time's different."

"Why?"

She was silent.

"Because this time you think he was right," Tristan said softly.

"Yes, that's it."

She turned on him sarcastically then, the sheen of angry tears in her eyes. "Clearly I think that my boyfriend was right to run out on me without to taking me to prom like he promised. I think he was right to leave without saying goodbye and go the whole way across the country to see a father he hadn't even told me had been here. I think it didn't matter that I loved him, or that I stood up for him against my mother and my friends and my grandparents. This is all just fine."

He sat down on the bench beside her, wishing he could put an arm round her, offer some comfort, but that would have to be another of the biggest mistakes of his life.

"All right, so it's not fine. But the fact that you're hurt doesn't mean you think there was any other possible outcome."

"He made it end this way."

"Maybe somebody had to."

She was silent, hating the fact that he'd put into words exactly what she thought. She hated the fact that he was right- if she was just a bit stronger, if she believed a little more, she might have gone after Jess. Maybe he'd just had to guts to admit what she couldn't and gone before it tore both of them to pieces.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

He couldn't say what he wanted to scream- that Jess was either an idiot, or had more strength to leave her than Tristan himself could imagine. It had taken a foray into crime to get him away from Rory Gilmore, and it wasn't even as though he'd ever been able to call her his own. He pushed a hand through his hair to stop himself caressing hers.

She smiled at him again. "You're good in my break ups."

He raised his eyebrows and she flushed. "I didn't mean……."

At least she hadn't forgotten.

"I should go." She stood up and he scrambled to follow her.

"Obviously I'm great in a break up. Somehow it always ends with you crying and running away."

"I'm not running away. I'm just not really up for a party right now."

He nodded, not wanting to push it while at least she was still speaking to him. Treading on eggshells seemed to be working.

They walked in silence back to the house and he called for her car. "Thank you," she said softly, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Thank you," he echoed, not wanting to let go but not having any other choice.

He watched as she drove away.