A/N: New chapter!

The Morning After

Rory sat on the couch, anxiously awaiting a certain someone's walk of shame. She had the television on to set up some semblance of normalcy, but her attention was squarely on her bedroom door. It'd been a few hours since she'd gotten back. He had to leave eventually – to use the bathroom if for nothing else. Her phone rang and she picked it up when she saw it was her mother.

"Has he come out yet?" Lorelai asked without any preamble.

"No," Rory said softly. "But, I'm thinking it will be any time now. It's been a few hours, and I know for a fact that he has a particularly active bladder."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm a light sleeper," Rory explained simply. "You know that."

"So, what was their state of dress this morning?" Lorelai asked, trying to gauge the situation.

"I couldn't totally tell because the covers were up pretty high," Rory said. "But, I can safely say that Tristan's pants were on the ground."

"I have to say, I'm impressed," Lorelai said. "I didn't know Paris had it in her."

The doorknob rattled and Rory quickly said, "There's movement. I'll call you back."

She hung up just as the door opened and Tristan walked out, squinting at the bright overhead lighting as he ran his fingers through his hair. He did a double take at Rory's alert stance on the couch and asked, "Were you watching the door?"

"No," she lied. "Were you in Paris' bed?"

He paused and said, "Maybe. But…but it's not what you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

He frowned. "I have to pee."

He padded off to the bathroom and Rory pulled her knees into her chest, craning her neck to look into her bedroom. A moment later Paris walked out, hair pulled up into a bun at the top of her head. Her face was drawn and she yawned softly. Rory looked at her expectantly and Paris griped, "Oh, shut up."

Rory heard the shower turn on in the bathroom.

"What? I didn't say anything."

"We just slept in the same bed," Paris said dismissively. "That's it."

"Sure," Rory said, voice clearly showing she was not convinced. "And you were in the same bed, because…"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Paris returned with a shrug. "All the alcohol…made it seem like a good idea."

"And you guys didn't think, I don't know, that he could have slept in my bed? Or on this couch, where he usually sleeps?"

"I'm too hung over for this," Paris murmured, walking over to the mini-fridge and pulling out a Pepsi.

"You know, you can tell me if something happened."

"Nothing happened," Paris said irritably, sitting on the opposite end of the couch with her Pepsi and a bag of chips. She noisily took a handful of chips and forced them into her mouth.

"If nothing happened then why are you stress eating?"

Paris didn't answer, shoving another handful of chips into her mouth. After another messy handful Rory reached over and grabbed the bag, pulling it away from Paris.

"Okay, tell me what happened. Why are you upset?"

"I woke up in bed with Tristan DuGrey and you're asking me why I'm upset?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "It's more than that. I can tell."

Paris frowned, taking a sip of her Pepsi. She glanced down at her lap, stalling for a moment before saying, "We've barely talked this morning."

"Because you'd been…"

"Nothing," Paris said. "We'd been nothing. We woke up. He disentangled his parts from my parts, and then that's it. He walked out without no more than a good morning and then…here we are."

"I can't believe this," Rory said, shaking her head. Why did Tristan have to go and mess things up? The moment she posed the question to herself she had the answer.

"Whatever. It shouldn't have happened. I mean, we're too different. And he's…"

Paris trailed off, her eyes despondent. Before Rory could say anything further Paris stood up and took another swig of her Pepsi.

"I'm going to head over to the library. I have a lot of reading to do."

"Okay, do you want to talk more? I'm here if you want to, you know."

"I'm fine," Paris said, voice stronger than her stance suggested. "It's just Tristan. I'm already over it."

She stalked off into their bedroom and then emerged a few minutes later with a sweatshirt thrown on with her sweatpants and a hulking backpack. She slipped out of the apartment, Rory still on the couch. A few minutes later Tristan came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He went to move toward the bedroom – where he usually changed – when Rory turned toward him and said, "You stop right there, buster."

He glanced back at her. "Huh?"

"How could you?"

"I'm in a towel," he said by way of getting out of whatever they were about to talk about.

"How could you?" Rory repeated.

"Okay, I guess I'm having this conversation in a towel," he mumbled. "How could I what?"

"I got you and Paris together."

"You what?" he said, face getting red.

"I did all the work – hard work might I add," she continued, ignoring the mounting look of disbelief and outrage clearly written on Tristan's face. "You two are not easy people to get together. You're both stubborn, and pigheaded, and really difficult people, but I did it. And then you had to go along and ruin it all!"

"But-"

"No, I don't want to hear it," Rory snapped, standing up. She marched over to him, an accusatory finger held up to his nose. "You messed up here, Tristan. You messed up bad, and you better fix it. Because I can deal with a tired Paris. I can deal with a sleep-deprived and stressed Paris. But I cannot deal with a scorned Paris. So, make it right."


Logan could tell that Rory was irritated by the way she drank her coffee. They were sitting in the cafeteria, chatting over cups of coffee. She never was a casual sipper, but the aggression with which she attacked her latte tipped him off that something in the Gellar-DuGrey-Gilmore dorm had shifted.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said morosely, taking a long drag of her latte.

"Are you sure?"

"It's nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

Logan nodded slowly. "Alright, so it's nothing and you don't want to talk about it."

"Uh huh." After a beat of silence Rory went into it, regardless. "First off, nothing even happened."

"And we're talking about it," Logan said without a trace of surprise. "So, what do you mean nothing happened? You found them in bed together, right?"

"Yeah, they drunkenly slept together. That's it. They slept together as in they literally slept together. Like, counting sleep slept together."

"Okay."

"And then, this morning, he just gets up and showers without any more than a good morning."

"Yikes."

"I don't know why I expected more," Rory sighed, setting her drink on the table. "I mean, it's Tristan. He's an idiot."

"But you said he liked Paris."

"Yeah, but he tends to get more idiotic when it's someone he likes. You know, I should have coached him."

"No, you definitely should not have," Logan said, laughing. "Look, if he can't handle a real healthy relationship, that's on him. This is not your fault."

"She was hurt," Rory said, remembering how Paris had looked that morning. "He hurt her, and that's on me. I pushed them together."

Logan reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"How's Finn's eye?" she asked after a moment.

"It's healing," Logan said. "He's taken to wearing an eye patch."

"An eye patch?"

Logan nodded. "He actually likes it. Says it makes him look distinguished."

"Well, I'm glad something good came out of last night."


Tristan thought about what Rory had told him that morning. He couldn't believe she'd engineered everything. When he thought about it, sure, it was possible but Rory Gilmore had never struck him as a meddler. Still, she had. She'd gone ahead and worked her magic, and he'd ended up in bed with the girl he never knew he wanted. And he did. He wanted her. He wanted Paris Gellar, and all of that was completely wrong and twisted, but it didn't make it less true, and he'd ruined it. He'd barely talked to her that morning, too overwhelmed by what had happened. Sure, he'd woken up with lots of girls but they'd never been Paris. They'd never looked up at him with those eyes and made him forget all the reasons he usually ditched morning snuggles.

So, he did what he usually did when things got hard or confusing – he ran. It was easier to get out of bed and shower than to have the talk that he knew they'd eventually have to have if he stayed in that bed.

Now, he wished he'd stayed. But he hadn't, so he was going to have to do something, and something fast. Because Rory was right. Paris on a good day scared the hell out of him, and he had a feeling Paris scorned was something out of nightmares.

He'd heard the tail end of her and Rory's conversation and knew she was at the library. In theory there were lots of places that she could be at, but for some reason he knew she'd be in the stacks. Paris didn't like people, and that was something the stacks lacked. Sure enough she was in a corner, absentmindedly biting on the end of a highlighter while she read. He stepped up behind her and softly said, "Hey."

She jumped, gasping loudly at his sudden arrival. He immediately launched into an apology and she stammered, "What's wrong with you? You don't sneak up on someone in the stacks!"

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just…"

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk."

"We're in a library," she said stuffily, turning her attention back to her reading. "You don't talk in libraries."

"Paris-"

"Can it, DuGrey."

"I'll be brief. I promise."

She exhaled sharply, laying her highlighter down on the desk. "You aren't going to leave until I let you talk, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine," she said, turning around again and looking up at him. "What do you want to say?"

"I'd like to take you out tonight."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I'd like to take you out tonight."

"Like…a date?" she asked gingerly. When he nodded her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked at anywhere but his face. He smiled a bit and asked, "So, is 7:00 alright?"

"You really want to go on a date with me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He paused for a moment and then said, "Because you look really good in the morning."

She turned back toward her book, but he could catch a slight curve of her cheek. He waited for a moment and then asked, "So, 7:00 then?"

"Yeah," she said, back still to him. "7:00."


Rory finished her classes for the day and then headed over to Logan's apartment. Finn answered the door, complete with his eye patch. He let her in and she pulled off her coat.

"That eye patch works on you, Finn," she said.

"Please don't enable him," Stephanie said from the kitchen. "Otherwise, he's never going to take it off."

"It is rather becoming, isn't it?" Finn said airily, striking a pose for Rory. "You know, the hottest redhead I have ever seen hit on me today."

"Define hit on," Stephanie called out. "I bet your definition isn't the same as ours."

"Stephanie, love, I know when a woman is hitting on me," Finn said. "And this particular lady was definitely hitting on this."

"Whatever you say," she returned.

"Don't be bitter now, Steph," Colin said, walking out of his bedroom.

"Bitter?" Rory asked, looking between the two.

"Finn rejected Stephanie at a party back at Groton," Colin explained smoothly. "She's never quite gotten over it."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've never quite gotten over just how close I was to a whole host of venereal diseases."

"Why are we talking about venereal diseases?" Logan asked, walking out of his bedroom. He came over to Rory and kissed her on the cheek.

"Something about Finn," Rory explained.

"Ah, you know, that almost makes sense," he said with a grin. He tilted his head toward his bedroom and Rory nodded, waving a small goodbye to the others while she followed. Logan closed the door and went to her immediately, slipping his arms around her waist as he kissed her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck as she led them back toward the bed.

"You're in a better mood," Logan remarked, dropping an open-mouthed kiss onto her neck.

"I am," she agreed, eyes drifting shut as his teeth grazed her skin.

"Do I have anything to do with this mood?"

"Nope," she said easily. He pulled back and gave her a look. "Paris texted me. Her and Tristan are going on a date tonight. A real date."

Logan nodded appreciatively. "Well, that's a change."

"I don't have all the details, but I'm pretty happy regardless."

"I can tell."

She grinned, leaning in and brushing her lips against his. The kiss deepened and she stepped back until the back of her knees knocked into the bed. She scooted back onto the bed, Logan following her.

"Celebratory make out session?" Logan suggested with a grin.

"You bet."

A/N: More of a Paris/Tristan chapter than anything, but I hope you liked it! New chapter will be up within the next week :)