Later, after milling through the festival and examining the many treasures it had to offer, Rory stepped carefully around the families that had spread out blankets in the grass in preparation for the fireworks display due to commence any minute. She led Tristan over to a bench near the back of the throng and sat down on the polished wood, scooting over to make room for him beside of her. Lorelai and Sookie had desperately sought them out earlier, claiming of a problem at the inn that had to be attended to right away, leaving Rory with no way home. Tristan had then chivalrously offered to take her, brushing off Lorelai's words of gratitude. Now, here they were, each mulling over their own complicated set of thoughts. Rory pulled a band out of her pocket, twisting her still damp hair up into a ponytail as Tristan sat down beside of her. He squeezed his light blue shirt between his hands, wringing out the leftover excess water. Having removed the wet, clingy material earlier, he was now clad only in his tank top and khaki cargo shorts. Rory's eyes poured over him, unable to ignore the way the white cotton of the shirt made his skin glow sun kissed in the moonlight, almost as if he had spent his entire summer on the beach of the Bahamas soaking up the rays. His hair had dried soft and spiky, tousled from his hand running through it, a gesture she had come to know so well. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, the thin chain that had been concealed beneath his tank top dangling forth, revealing a pair of silver dog tags reflecting the first few fireworks that exploded tremendously in the night sky.

She reached out a hand, running her finger over their smooth metal. "Dog tags?"

Tristan turned to face her when he felt her tug lightly on the chain. "Yeah, they were my great-grandfather's military tags. I don't wear them often…" He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

"Oh." Noticing that the clasp was right next to the dog tags, she took it into her hands and brought it around to the back of his neck, her fingers grazing the blond tendrils of his hair. Her other hand straightened the tags in front, feeling the contact of the firm, sculpted muscles of his chest against her skin. She glanced down to her lap quickly, almost embarrassed at her sudden boldness to make contact with him, and at the way his fiery gaze penetrated into hers in turn. "You should… make a wish." Rory shook her head imperceptibly at her incapability to form the words that she wanted to say, but Tristan didn't seem to notice, his eyes burning into hers with a heat that both frightened and exhilarated her.

"A wish?"

"Yeah," she replied, feeling silly for expressing her hope in the idea her mother had taught her long ago. "When the clasp meets the charm on your necklace, you're supposed to make a wish."

"And that's something you believe in?"

Rory smiled, remembering that when she had been younger, she had reveled in the old adage of 'if you wish for something hard enough, it will come true.' "Not exactly, but I know when you believe in something or want something badly enough, you can make it happen."

"You really think that, huh?"

"Yeah, I do. So are you going to make a wish anyway?" She grinned at him, laughing inwardly at the way it seemed so easy to tell him anything, like she could open her whole world to him, and no matter what she threw at him, he would accept it because it came from her.

"I don't need to make a wish. Like you, I'm more in favor of the go out and get what you want approach." Tristan lifted his chin confidently, unable to keep the familiar smirk from crossing his features.

"Oh really? Then what do you want?"

"I think I've already made that obvious."

Rory's eyes jerked up to meet his then, the full meaning of his statement sinking into her muddled brain. Of course, it was something she had realized awhile ago, but to actually hear him say it while he was looking at her like she was something special, something uniquely belonging to him, was enough to have her trembling in every corner of her spine.

Tristan took her hand in his, massaging a smooth circle over her palm with his thumb, his gaze never wavering from hers. "What would you do if I kissed you right now, Rory?"

She froze, unaware of the fireworks or the people, unaware of everything but the sensation of his hand on hers as she found herself unable to look away from his cobalt depths, losing herself in the very essence that was Tristan. Rory couldn't form the words to answer him, but she knew speaking wasn't necessary, because the certainty of what she would do rang out from where it had been buried within her heart. She would take him into her arms and never let go. She instinctively leaned closer to him, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers, but when he turned once again to look at the fireworks dancing across the heavens, she sank against the back of the bench. Her stomach felt heavy with confusion at the way he had simply looked away from her, instead of… Rory shook her head, refusing to fall into the depths of mystification when it came to Tristan, especially when everything had finally become all too apparent, as if she were looking at a river through a glass-bottomed boat.

Tristan tried to focus on the array of colors banging in the sky, like a man-made meteor shower, but he wasn't able to ignore the look of hurt that he had seen on Rory's face when he had pulled away from her, and it made him ache. Though he knew this wasn't the time to take her into his arms and show her exactly what he wanted, for advancements with her had to be taken slowly. He had learned that the hard way, and he had no intentions of messing up the one thing that was so valuable and precious to him. One step had to be taken at a time until things were absolutely perfect.

A few minutes later, the fireworks ended in a waterfall of sparkles falling like snowflakes to the ground with a crescendo of a symphony orchestra resounding from a stereo system. The massive crowd began gathering their things and headed exhaustedly towards the exit, children, still full of energy, pulling on their parents' hands excitedly. Tristan stood up from the bench slowly, turning to face Rory, where she was sitting, arms still crossed hesitatingly in front of her. "Are you ready to go home?" He asked quietly, hoping, praying that she would say she wasn't.

"No, not yet." She offered him a tentative smile, knowing that she wasn't ready for the night to end. The air seemed to have a magical feel to it as it settled over them, sheltering them from all that went on in the outside world.

Tristan nodded his head, gesturing towards the food stands, still open at that late hour. "Ice cream?"

"Sounds good."

*****

Rory licked her vanilla cone, trying to prevent the sticky liquid from melting onto her fingers. She followed Tristan over to where he was sitting on the grass, in an area secluded from the crowd intent on making their way to their cars and the comfort of their homes. "Very adventurous choice, Rory. Choosing vanilla is definitely a walk on the wild side. Why not Chunky Monkey or one of those other concoctions that make you question exactly what ingredients went into their production?"

She gestured absently to Tristan's own strawberry cone. "This coming from someone who ordered the epitome of ice cream flavors. I bet those aren't even chunks of real strawberries." They silently continued eating their ice cream, each reveling in the comfortable silence that shrouded them, each content to just bask in the presence of the other. The stillness was broken by a quiet laughter coming forth from deep within Tristan's throat. "What?" Rory looked over at him, puzzlement etching her features.

"There's some ice cream on your face." Tristan gestured to his own mouth, motioning to a spot directly beside of his lips. Rory grabbed a napkin and wiped at her face, missing the spot completely. "Here, I'll get it." Tristan reached for his own paper napkin, lifting it towards her, when his eyes locked on her lips, glistening lightly from the sweet, sugary taste of the ice cream. Before he had time to even consider his actions, he tossed the crumpled napkin aside and ran his finger tantalizingly down Rory's jaw line, hooking it under her chin and lifting it up so that she was looking at him. He swallowed past the pent up emotion in his throat, knowing that it was time and holding himself back from her would be futile. It would be like trying to stop a runaway train. Many moments, actually many months, had been leading up to this, where it was just the two of them, wanting, needing each other, in a way like they had craved no one else's touch.

Tristan's eyes searched hers, seeing his own feelings mirrored there and finally accepting the fact that this was indeed real. She was there with him and no one else. His face came within a breath of Rory's as she felt him graze the spot of ice cream on the corner of her mouth with his lips, the simple touch sending her heart fluttering. A second later he pulled away, locking gazes with her once again, eyes no longer filled with what used to be longing, but this time they were consumed with a hunger… for her. He leaned down slowly, teasingly, finally capturing her mouth with his in a kiss that made her breath catch in her throat, a mixture of strawberry and vanilla. His lips caressed hers, as his hand sought her fingers in the grass, and then entwining with hers as if anchoring each other from spinning off into oblivion. It provided a sense of completion, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of being swept away in simply just being there, together, as if nothing else mattered. This kiss was very different from the first, for it was everything that was Tristan and everything that was Rory, full of promises, tenderness, and the essence of their souls.

And it was also different, for this time, Rory didn't pull away.

The End.

Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews both for this fan fiction and "Never Say Never." It is greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you all enjoyed reading it!