Dedication: The usual suspects, Susie and Surya for just being the best.

Author's Note: I realize that the story is getting progressively hotter but like I mentioned in the first chapter, I planned on eventually changing the rating to R. The last couple of chapters have been just that and the next will continue to be so. You have been warned.

Chapter 38: Alcohol and Summer Sheffield

"You know what, dude?"

"What's that, Joseph?"

"Being rich is s'cool," he slurring with a triumphant air, making a big arc in the air with his left arm. The music in the club throbbed in Tristan's head, the colors blended together like some painting in a new age art gallery and the room seemed to keep shifting off its axis every now and again. Joe lowered his voice conspiratorially. "We're drinking booze. The good stuff, too. And we're not legal. When I grow up, Ima gonna be rich."

"So am I," Tristan nodded decisively, taking another sip of his beer.

Joe smiled in appreciation. "I love you, man."

Tristan studied Joe contemplatively for a minute before wagging his finger at him in accusation. "You're drunk!"

"I'm wasted," the surfer corrected. "You know who else is wasted?"

"Who?"

"Apryl."

Tristan made a face and looked around wildly. "Apryl? She's here? Where's she at, man?" When he couldn't spot her, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't see her."

"She can be so fucking self righteous," Joe stated angrily, as he clutched the beer bottle to his chest. "Tellin' me what to do, yellin' at me for messing up. Nobody asked her to give a flying fuck about me. Intefering in my life. I don't tell her what to do…didn't tell her not to go around fucking you, did I?"

Even in his stupor, Tristan didn't know what to say to that so he simply shrugged. It was true. He knew Joe didn't like him dating Apryl but refrained from saying anything. And he was right, Apryl was kind of bossy. "I thought you had issues with Karen."

Joe let out a snort of disgust. "They're all sisters. The bitches."

Forgetting that he had Rory and that he didn't think she was a bitch, Tristan nodded again in agreement. But then he sighed and added, "Can't get laid without them, though."

"Who wants to get laid?" a familiar voice drawled from behind him and Tristan turned around to see Summer Sheffield, standing there in fire-engine-red dress that barely covered her breasts and skimmed a good inch or two above her knees. Her painted mouth stretched into a flirty smile as she placed one delicate hand on her hip and the other on the back of Tristan's chair. "Hello Tristan. Who's your gorgeous friend?"

Joe didn't wait to be introduced and thrust his hand forward, grinning as he gave Summer a leering once over. Tristan wondered where his contempt for women went all of a sudden. "Joseph Walker."

"Charmed," she replied as she accepted his hand. "I haven't seen you around."

"I live in LA."

"Ooh Beverly Hills," she stated a little giddily.

"Santa Monica, actually."

"Oh," Summer said suddenly looking at him like her were a fly on her windshield. She turned away from him and turned her coy smile at Tristan again. "You wanna dance, baby?" 

Tristan glanced at Joe who looked at Summer in revulsion and took a drag of his beer and then at the dance floor that seemed crowded and too loud for his tastes. "No."

"Aw," she said, pouting her lips to make them look fuller and more inviting. Tristan remembered a time when he had kissed those same lush lips and recoiled from her seeking arm. She was faster and latched onto his shirt. "Just one dance, Tristan. For old times' sake."

He tried to think of some other reason why he shouldn't be dancing with Summer, the reason that was just behind the fog in his brain. It was screaming to be heard but he couldn't pull it to the forefront and express it coherently as Summer pulled him off his chair so he blurted, "Rory."

This managed to stop the brunette and she turned to him with a look of amused indulgence. "Isn't that cute? Tristan DuGrey, ladies and gentlemen, is whipped."

"Stop being a bitch, Summer."

She ignored that comment and continued to taunt him as she stepped forward, pressed herself against him and brought her lips to his ear. "What is it, Tristan? You can't even dance with me now that you have a Puritan girlfriend? Are you afraid she'll break up with you? Or are you just afraid that if you dance with me, it'll lead to something much more because you've kept it in your pants for so long?"

The combination of the heady scent of her perfume, the throbbing music and the alcohol in his system were making it increasingly difficult for him to fend off her advances and he somehow stumbled with her to the dance floor, his hands resting on her hips. "What are you playing at, Summer?"

She grinded against him, in sync with the song, and answered in a low, send-all-the-blood-rushing-to-your-groin voice. "I thought that much was obvious, baby."

Tristan brought his hands to her shoulders and pushed her away a little. "Summer, you dumped me. In front of everyone. At a party two years ago. What the hell is going on?"

Unfazed, Summer draped her own arms over his shoulder and pressed her body against him. "I made a mistake, Tristan. And I just want to fix it."

Before he could ask her how she planned on fixing her error, she seized his lips with hers in an open-mouthed kiss. Shocked and confused, his eyes widened a little before closing shut as her insistent tongue swept into his mouth.

Rory! his mind screamed to remind him. Beguilingly blue eyes and beautiful smile. Your girlfriend!

Groaning, he broke this kiss and pushed Summer away. She was momentarily stunned as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand but then, her mouth turned into another sardonic smile. "Oh and this just keeps getting better."

"Shut up, Summer."

"You have feelings for her. How precious," she continued to mock, following him off the dance floor. "Makes it all the more perfect. So tell me, has Tristan DuGrey finally turned a new leaf. Or are those earlier rumors true? Has your little Mary earned a Magdalene to her name?"

"Go home, Sheffield."

"Nice come back," she commented with a smirk. "I'll wager it's the latter. After all, baby, your prowess is legendary."

Now, it was his turn to smirk. Obviously, ignoring her wasn't working. He stepped closer and her smile widened, her eyes lighting up slightly. He brought his face close to hers, close enough to feel her warm breath on his lips and trailed a finger down her left cheek. "Fortunately for me, you never really found out how good you could have had it."

Without waiting for her response, he turned away from her and headed back to the table. When he got there, Joe was drunkenly making out with a bosomy blonde who looked like she was at least twenty-five. Belatedly realizing the night had done nothing to solve his friend's problems, Tristan sighed as he tapped the blonde on her shoulder insistently.

The couple broke apart and Joe smile broadly. "Hey! It's my best friend!"

The blonde giggled. "He's hot."

"All the girls say that," Joe agreed as his tonsil hockey partner shifted on his lap. "What can I do for you, buddy?"

"Let's go home, Walker."

"I'm just fine here," he slurred, wiggling his eyebrows and the blonde giggled again and the two of them continued to make-out.

Tristan felt the slow but steady pressure build behind his eyes and he shook his head to clear it from the fog. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. It rang four times and he chanted 'pick up, pick up!' in his head hoping that it wouldn't go to voicemail.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice greeted him.

Tristan frowned and then shouted into the phone over the noise. "Mariano? What are you doing with Paris' phone?"

"She's, uh, otherwise occupied," Jess returned uneasily and for a split second Tristan thought he had interrupted an intimate moment. But in the background, he heard the distinct sound of Paris yelling at someone.

"Is Rory there?"

"Yes, she is the victim of Paris' wrath at the moment."

"Shit," he swore softly. "Listen, man, can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm listening," came the dubious reply.

"I need you to pick Joe and me up at Club Soda because I doubt I can make it home in one piece or without driving my car into the gate but I need you to do it without Rory finding out what you're up to," he explained quickly.

"So you want me to lie to my friend, your girlfriend, about your whereabouts and then drive your drunk ass home?"

"Pretty much."

"I don't have a car."

"Borrow Gellar's."

A beat then, "Nice."

~*~

It was happening again.

As Rory walked through the hallways of Chilton the next day, people were whispering about her and were not trying to be discreet about it.

Ever since Jess had mysterious disappeared from their study night at Paris' (well, she and Paris were studying, Jess was trying to get them to go out for ice cream) Rory was getting a weird vibe from everyone around. When they got to Stars Hollow the night before, she had cornered Jess and used a little blackmailing tip she'd picked up from Lorelai and he had confessed about Tristan's night of booze.

But that still didn't explain the stares from her fellow classmates. She just wanted to stand up and yell, "Did I miss something?"

"Hey Magdalene," Summer Sheffield greeted her the next day with a wide, mocking smile. "That is your new name, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Rory shut her locker. "What are you talking about, Summer?"

"Still trying to be a Mary, are we?" She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Don't bother, sweetie. Your secret's out. I don't blame you though; Tristan is a very hard man to resist."

Despite the heat she felt burning her cheeks, Rory managed to stay calm and Summer sashayed away from her. She remembered the last time the other girl had spread vicious rumors about her and the fight with Tristan that had ensued and she was not going to let Summer win this time.

Resolutely, she adjusted her backpack and headed for the lunchroom to find Paris Gellar.

~*~

The intense throbbing was drowning out the sounds in his head; sucking out the pleasure of dreaming.

Wearily, Tristan opened one eye and peered out from under his pillow only to be attacked by a harsh ray of sunlight peeking out through the gap in the curtains. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of light and groaned, turning in his bed onto his back. He wished his head would fall off. Swearing inwardly because his mouth felt too dry to open, he tried to open both his eyes this time. When he did, he had to blink twice – not because of the light but because of the illusion – well, he thought it was an illusion, at least.

Her dark hair was falling around her face and with the sunlight serving as a backdrop it looked like a halo – as ridiculous as it seemed. Her eyes looked bluer and her skin looked fresh and soft. But her mouth (that oh-so-kissable mouth) was upturned and gave away that mystery of an illusion.

"Rory?"

"Nice hair," she deadpanned as he sat up in bed and then groaned as the movement caused his whole body to go rigid, his muscles to ache.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as the sheets fell to his waist and he realized he was wearing only his boxers. Somehow, in his drunken haze the night before, he had managed to strip himself of his jeans and T-shirt. From his experience, Rory Gilmore would be blushing right about now, but his girlfriend didn't even blink. He ran his tongue over his upper teeth as realization dawned. "Jess told you."

"That you and Joe got wasted last night?" she asked, her tone pleasant as she sat down on the edge of his bed and straightened out the hem of her uniform's skirt with one hand. "Oh yeah. But don't blame him. I have stuff on him that you wouldn't even believe. I never knew blackmail could be so… satisfying."

He chuckled, even though it cost him. "I think I like this side of you." She handed him a glass of maroon colored liquid that he realized she was holding and he took it from her warily. "What is this?"

"A magic concoction sure to cure any hangover," she answered calmly and then shrugged. "At least that's what my father told me."

Tristan raised the glass to his nose, sniffed and made a face. "I'm not drinking this."

"Well I'm not drinking it," Rory shot back, her tone firm but still awfully pleasant. He was beginning to worry about her state of acceptance. "If you're willing to get drunk, you gotta be willing to get rid of that hangover. If you ever want to make it to school, that is."

He glanced at the alarm clock on his side table and then back at her. "It's noon."

"That means you have three more periods left."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, shocked that she was in his room in the middle of a school day. "How'd you get here?"

"I skipped lunch and borrowed Paris' car. She's in a magnanimous mood, lately." She folded her legs under her and bounced on the bed. When he grimaced, she gasped slightly. "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to bounce, it kinda just happened."

"I'll live," he answered with a grin that quickly turned into frown as he glanced at the glass in his hands again. "But this just might kill me."

"Stop fussing and drink," she commanded, reaching over to tip the glass towards his mouth. "It'll make you feel all better. I bet Joe has already gulped it all down."

"Joe?"

"I sent your housekeeper into his room with another glass of this stuff," she replied with a grin. "I hope at least he fell asleep fully dressed."

Tristan chuckled and put the glass of offensive liquid on his side table and leaned forward to tug at her hair. "So you did notice my state of undress. I was beginning to think you were desensitized."

"Nice try," she quipped and lifted the glass in front of his face again. "Drink."

Because he appreciated the fact that she had broken school rules and cut her lunch period to check up on him, he took the glass and brought it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he took one long gulp and swallowed, making a face as he did. Once he was halfway through, he complained again. "I don't see why I have to drink this. I can just sleep until the hammer in my head goes away."

As he got off the bed and headed to the adjoining bathroom to brush away the awful taste in his mouth, she called to him, "If you don't come back to school with me, you'll miss the test in history."

"I'll make it up," he replied, with a mouth full of paste.

"But it's… school!" She sounded like purposely missing school, if you didn't have to, was a bad thing.

He rinsed his mouth, dabbed it with a towel and walked out of the bathroom with a grin on his face. "It's not like I haven't done it before. Give it up, Mary. Your mission to get me on the straight and narrow is just not going to work."

She rolled her eyes, sighed, stood up and threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine, go back to sleep. I'll see you when you're easier to deal with…oh wait, I may never see you again."

He laughed and fell back onto his bed. "Quit the insults and get in bed with me."

"What?" she asked shocked, taking a step away from it instead. "No, I have to go to school."

"Just for a little while," he pretended to whine and even pouted for full effect. "It's still lunch and you'll make it back in time. Come on, Rory. I have a headache."

"Don't whine," she chided, rolling her eyes. She bit her bottom lip in contemplation and he could tell she was weakening. "That's a pathetic tactic, DuGrey."

"But it got you to consider it." He grinned as she started to shuffle off her shoes and slip out of her uniform's jacket. "Damn, those blazers really do nothing for your figure."

"That's the point, Tristan," she answered and slipped under the covers. He immediately grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close, propping up on one elbow beside her. She grinned up at him and trailed a finger down the side of his face, stopping at his chin. "The question is, Mr. DuGrey, now that you have me in your bed, what ever will you do with me?"

He lowered his mouth to hers, nipped her bottom lip with his teeth just long enough to send that jolt of heat coursing through her before pulling away with a wolfish grin, "I'm going to sleep."

"Jerk!" She slapped his hands away from her and then turned her back to him, unintentionally spooning her body into his. His arm immediately came around her waist as he pressed up against her. "Get off of me."

Tristan laughed against the skin on her neck, causing her to shudder lightly. "Aw, Gilmore, you don't mean that. Besides, if we get started, you'll never make it back in time for the history test."

After a pause, she looked over her shoulder and sniffed lightly. "I'd still appreciate a smidgen of disappointment from you at the lack of tonsil hockey."

"Oh believe me baby," he growled softly, pressing her closer to him. "I'm very disappointed."

Rory grinned widely and turned to him fully, snuggling closer to him in the process. His head fell back against the pillow and she moved to rest hers on his chest, her hair tickling his bare chest. "That's got to be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, DuGrey."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head, contentedly. "Rest your eyes, Ror."

She yawned and curled up against him like a cat. "Best thing I've heard all day."