Chapter 10: First Date

Marty took Rory to a jazz club in Hartford for their first date. They listened to the various acts, and danced and had a lovely time.

As they began a romantic stroll home, Rory began to feel nervous. Marty would kiss her when they got back to her suite, she had no doubt of that. And that wasn't what scared her. No, what made her nervous but also thrilled her was the possibility of there being... more than kissing.

And, she surprised herself when she realized: she wanted there to be. More than kissing.

She and Marty had been standing by her door, heatedly making out when Rory suddenly pulled away with a gasp. She gazed into his eyes, her expression full of love. "I want to take you to bed, Marty."

Marty had to shake his head to clear it of the intoxicating reverie of kissing Rory, certain that he had misheard. "I'm sorry?"

Gulping, but her eyes never wavering, Rory ran her hands up Marty's forearms, feeling the firm strong flesh under his shirt. "I want to make love to you," she murmured. She knew Paris would be out, off for an all-nighter in Bass Library, which was clear across campus. And if they were quiet about it, they could conceivably have their fun without waking up Rory's other suitemates in the next double room.

But whereas Rory was fully ready for whatever might come next, Marty was not. In fact, he was dazed. Rory Gilmore wanted him enough to sleep with him? And after only one date? He had never taken her to be that kind of girl. She certainly wasn't a slut - the farthest thing from it - but he got the singular impression things were moving too fast. Faster than he would like, anyway. He and Rory were still exploring a heightened level of intimacy, embarked upon ever since his stint in the hospital. But they weren't that intimate yet - nor, in Marty's view, were they ready to be.

And so, even though it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, Marty put his arms around her, kissed her forehead and murmured into her hair, "Not tonight, babe. Maybe another time."

He tried not to read too much into the expression of disappointment in Rory's face. He hoped there wasn't too much hurt. Bracing her up against the wall and kissing her rather indecently, Marty finally released her lips, whispered, "I love you," and headed up to his floor.

Rory stayed out in the hall for quite a long time, her mind in a fog. Had she blown it? Had she killed any chance with the man she loved while still in its cradle? She had pushed him too hard, she could see that.

She only hoped she hadn't pushed him away.

The next day was Saturday, and throughout all of it, Marty could not even find the concentration to study as his mind kept going back over his night with Rory.

The regret for how he had left things started the minute he had climbed into bed. Her gorgeous face haunted his dreams.

Marty was still a virgin, and he had always been plagued by serious doubts that any woman would sleep with him willingly. And yet, when Rory handed the opportunity to him, practically gift-wrapped, he had spurned it. Why? Out of some reason to spare her? No, that wasn't it. Rory would not have asked to be with him out of pity. It would be because Rory genuinely wanted to.

Marty started to tick off what he and Rory already had. They knew close to everything about each other. They loved each other - that was clear. So what was holding him back?

Marty still hadn't come to an answer by the time the sun set over the hills. He wasn't in the mood to go out partying tonight, and with little in the way of productivity, he decided to turn in early. Carl joined him in their room a few minutes later.

But like the night before, Marty refused to go to sleep. Rory's bewitching image was still in his head. He tried pleasuring himself with his pillow between his legs, but that only did so much. Feeling hot, he got up and padded into the hallway to get a drink of water.

That was when he heard a noise from downstairs. And Paris Geller's commanding voice. "Come on, you nitwits, get a move on! The princess needs her beauty sleep!" Peeking along the bannister, Marty could see three girls leaving Durfee 105. Rory was not among them.

Marty shrank back against the wall, mind whirring. He knew Paris did nice things for Rory - even if their execution was a little frosty, it always came from a place of love. And now Rory was being left in her room. Alone. For a few hours at least.

He squared his shoulders. He knew what he had to do - and humping his pillow wasn't going to get it done, with Carl snoring a few feet away. Rushing back to his room, he threw a bathrobe on over his pajamas, and padded down the hall to Rory's suite.

20 seconds of courage, he told himself, before knocking on the door.

"Did you forget something, Paris...?" Rory's voice trailed off in surprise as she opened the door. Marty stared at her tremulously.

"Hi."

She blinked, and seemed to know exactly what he was there for. "Hi... Come in." And she held it out wide for him, letting him pass before she closed the door...

The moonlight pierced only a little through the darkness, as Rory moved to straddle him. Looking more confident than she felt, she removed her top and cast it aside before unclipping her bra.

In silent response, his eyes not leaving hers, Marty shucked off his bathrobe to reveal his bare chest underneath. The scars ran down the length of his chest, pearlized lines and ridges that blazed a path down to where his bellybutton should have been. That was the place where the doctors had sewn him up all those years ago.

Gazing upon her bare breasts, Marty breathed out long and low. "You're beautiful, you know. More than I've ever dreamed."

Rory bit her lip and hugged herself. She had always been of the opinion that her breasts were kind of small. "No, I'm not," she murmured quietly.

Marty cupped a hand to her cheek. "You are," he whispered, his voice filled with fire. "I love you."

Her blue orbs filled with tender love, Rory bent over him and began to press feather-like kisses along the scars on his chest. When she reached his face, Marty captured her lips in his and they rolled over in each other's embrace. Wriggling close, the couple began to make love...

Rory woke up crying. Not because she regretted what had happened with Marty, no - her body still sang from where he had touched her. It was what occurred after they had fallen asleep that had her so moved.

And stirring against her, Marty now noticed.

"You're crying..." his fingers brushed her cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"It was a dream. A really good dream. We... we were together. We had children."

Marty crinkled his brow in thought. "Children?"

"Our... our children," Rory wept. "I wanted it to be real."

Marty rocked her close. "It can be," he soothed. "Someday."

The double room was now bathed in sunshine. Across the room, Paris's bed was still empty. She must not have come home last night.

"I'm not too worried about Paris," Rory chuckled through the last of her tears. "Even if something did happen to her and Tana and them, Doyle would look after them." She rose languidly from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower." Turning back to Marty, she smiled and tugged at his hand. "And you can keep me company."

And the couple made love again under the sprays until Rory came apart orgasmically in his arms.