Pairing:
R/T, of course, and L/L
Rating:
PG-13 at the most
Spoilers:
May reference anything and everything from Season 1
Disclaimer:
The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino,
Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for
entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.
Part 2: Bye-Bye
Bag Boy, Hello Poetry and Flying Monkeys
The sit-com re-run marathon had lasted until one in the morning, and even then it was a struggle for Rory to get Lorelei to turn off the TV. Hopped up on caffeinated ice cream, Lorelei had insisted, after watching The Facts of Life, that she and Sookie should chuck the idea of opening an inn, and instead open a bakery called Sookie's Samples. Four girls from the local college could live in the apartment upstairs. The fact that there wasn't a local college in Stars Hollow didn't seem to deter her.
The next morning, the shrill ringing of the phone awakened Rory. Fumbling groggily for her nightstand, she found the object of her desire on the fourth ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi Rory. It's Dean."
"What time is it?"
"Gee, I'm fine, Rory, how are you?" he asked sarcastically.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you woke me up."
"It's eleven o'clock."
Suddenly wide-awake, Rory sat bolt upright in bed. "It's what? Oh my God, I was supposed to help my mom at the inn this morning! Dean, I'm sorry, but I have to go."
"Rory, wait!"
"What?"
"I was wondering what you wanted to do tonight."
"Oh, um, actually, I already have plans."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I'm going to a poetry reading in Hartford."
"Oh. Okay. With Lane?"
"Excuse me?"
"Are you going with Lane?"
"Are you kidding? Ever since her mom found her Lifehouse CD, she's been under house arrest."
"Right. Your mom?"
"No."
"Do you want me to come?"
"No, you probably wouldn't like it."
"Are you going alone?"
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Well, are you?"
"No."
"Well, then who?"
Rory cringed. "Someone from Chilton."
"You're kidding me! Who? Paris?"
"Dean, you're starting to sound like an owl. And no, it's not Paris."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then Dean asked the question she had been dreading. "Rory, are you going with Tristan?"
Resigned, unable to lie, Rory whispered, "Yes."
Click.
Hanging up the phone, Rory closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed. On the plus side, she hadn't lied to her boyfriend. Of course, now she wasn't sure she even had a boyfriend. How did this get to be so complicated? She couldn't help but wonder, was a friendship with Tristan really worth losing Dean? The little voice inside her heart that whispered "yes" only added to her confusion.
Rolling out of bed, Rory wandered into the kitchen, seeking coffee. Instead, she found a note from her mom, written on fluorescent pink paper. "Dear Rory," it read. "Decided you needed sleep more than I needed you at the inn. Stop by and rescue me for lunch. Love ya, Mom."
Deciding that she could survive the hour until lunch without coffee, Rory headed for the shower instead. Forty minutes later, washed, dressed, and approaching full consciousness, she set out for the Independence Inn.
Chaos reigned when she arrived. Michel had found a vase full of dead daisies behind an overstuffed chair in the corner, and he was throwing a fit. Apparently, her mother, unsure of how to distribute 1000 daisies, had hidden them there two months previous. Meanwhile, the smoke alarm was going off in the kitchen, Drella was doing her very best to make the harp sound angry, and Mr. Doose was at the concierge desk, trying to convince Lorelei to persuade Luke to sponsor a booth at the upcoming Labor Day Festival.
Cautiously, Rory made her way over to her mother, only to spy a plump woman with curly red hair tapping her foot impatiently.
"May I help you?" she asked politely.
"Yes, I have a reservation under Mitchell."
Quickly checking the logbook, Rory replied, "Yes, you're right here. I'm going to put you in room 204, which has a lovely view of the back gardens. It's just up those stairs and to the left. Will you need anyone to help you with your bags?"
"No, I can manage."
Taking the proffered credit card, Rory completed the transaction and sent the woman on her way. When she was done, she realized Mr. Doose was gone, and her mother was staring at her expectantly.
"Hi," she said.
"Good morning, sunshine. What time did you finally wake up?"
"Eleven. Dean called."
"Oooh, good call or bad call?"
Rory made a face. "He started interrogating me when I told him I had plans tonight. I finally had to tell him I was going with Tristan, and then he hung up on me."
"Ouch. Definitely a bad phone call."
"Yeah. So can you come to lunch with me?"
Taking a look around, Lorelei shook her head. "No, I better not risk it. Would you mind running to Luke's and picking something up?"
"Sure. The usual?"
"What else? Oh, and two coffees, if you can swing it."
"I'll do my best. Back in a bit."
"Bye, sweetie."
Walking down the quiet streets of Stars Hollow, Rory fervently hoped that she wouldn't run into Dean. She knew he was working at Doose's Market that afternoon, but he didn't start until one, so with a little luck she would miss him.
The lunch rush was just starting when she arrived at Luke's, and Rory sat patiently at the counter, waiting her turn. At last, Luke approached her.
"Hey, Rory. Where's your mom?"
"Trapped at the inn. Can I get two of the usual to go, and three large coffees?"
"Three?"
"Trust me, mom needs two of them. I'm sure you'll get to hear all about her wretched life tonight."
"How fun."
Swiveling on her stool while she waited for the food, Rory blanched when Dean walked into the diner. His eyes hard, he approached her.
"Rory, we need to talk."
"I agree. Please, you have to understand, Tristan isn't to blame for all this. He didn't even offer to go with me. He suggested I go with you. I asked him to come."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't think you'd like it."
"So, what, now he's better than me because he likes poetry?"
"Dean, that's not what I said."
"But isn't that what you meant?"
"No! Dean, you're overreacting."
"Am I? My girlfriend is going on what is, for all intents and purposes, a date with another guy. You probably wouldn't even have told me if I hadn't asked you outright. How am I supposed to react?"
Rory was angry now. "You're supposed to trust me enough to know that no matter what Tristan may or may not want, I'm dating you, and I would never betray that. You're supposed to respect my decisions and my judgment when it comes to choosing my friends. Do you have any idea how smothered I have felt this summer? You want to be with me all the time, and that's great, but I can't handle that. It wasn't like this before. We were allowed to live our own lives, and be happy when we were together. What's changed?"
"I don't want to lose you, Rory. Ever since we got back together, I've felt like your heart wasn't really in the relationship. You want to know what's changed? You have. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you. And I certainly don't always feel like you love me. I hear you say the words, and I wonder, are you saying it because you mean it, or because you know it's what I want to hear?"
"Dean, you know I care about you…"
"Yes, I do. But that's not love, Rory. How many times have you even said it to me? Four? Five? Why is it so hard?"
Tears began to roll down Rory's cheeks. "I don't know. It just is. I don't want it to be so hard. I wish that I could say it without having to force myself." Realizing what she had just said, Rory began to cry harder. "Dean, I think…I think maybe we shouldn't be together anymore. My mom was right. You deserve someone who is going to love you as much as you love me. And I…I don't. I'm sorry. I wish I did." With that, she ran from the diner, leaving Dean shell-shocked.
Luke, bringing out her food, had witnessed all that had just transpired. Abruptly, he bellowed, "Okay, everybody out! We're closing. Sorry for the inconvenience. I'll be back tomorrow." Tossing the key to Miss Patty, who had been eating lunch, he said, "After everyone's out, lock up. I'll get the key back later." Grabbing the bag of food and the tray holding three steaming cups of coffee, he ran after Rory.
* * *
Lorelei had just managed to restore the inn to some semblance of order, when a small whirlwind, which looked suspiciously like a very distraught version of her daughter, came crashing though the lobby.
"Rory! Rory, slow down." Catching her daughter's arm and hearing her sobs, she quickly pulled her close, gently stroking her hair. "Hey, hey, what happened? Calm down, sweetie. Mama's here, and everything's going to be just fine."
"No it's not."
"What…"
Before Lorelei could finish her question, Luke came bursting through the front door. Making a beeline for the Gilmores, he quietly asked, "Is she okay?"
"I don't know. She hasn't been here long enough for me to find out. Rory, honey, why don't we sit down? Luke brought coffee. I'm sure that will make you feel better."
Rory sniffled. "No it won't. Dean and I broke up. Again. And I think it's forever this time."
Lorelei stole a glance at Luke, saw him nod his head in confirmation. "Come on, let's sit down." She sat on the sofa and gently pulled Rory into her lap. "Now, tell me what happened."
Rory shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it right now, okay? I just want to wallow in my misery. We can hash out all the details later."
"Whatever you want. How about you eat your lunch now, while I go talk to Luke for a minute?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Then at least drink your coffee."
"Okay."
Rising from her seat, Lorelei took Luke by the arm and steered him into the supply closet. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"
Luke nodded. "Yeah. I didn't hear the whole thing, but Dean came into the diner, and they started arguing about some guy named Tristan. Then it became this big debate about whether Rory really loved him, and finally she broke up with him."
"Thanks. That sounds about right. And you're sure that Rory did the breaking up this time?"
"Yes."
"Well, I hope that makes things a little bit easier. Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be arguing with customers or something?"
"Rory looked upset, and I was going to have to close the place early anyway, so…"
She grinned and slugged him in the arm. "Aw, that's so sweet. You're really just a big overprotective Papa Bear at heart. Seriously, thank you for caring enough about her to make sure she was okay."
"Yeah, well…"
Seeing him fidget, Lorelei impulsively threw her arms around him in a bear hug. His body tensed, and then he relaxed enough to enjoy the feeling of her being in his arms.
Slowly, she pulled back, and there was an odd look on her face for a moment. Just as quickly, it disappeared, and she said, "So how about you come by around seven tonight for the movie? I should be home from work by then."
"Okay."
"Bring coffee," she said, and then she was gone.
"It's a date," he whispered to her retreating back.
When Lorelei reached Rory's side once more, she found the coffee cup empty and her daughter curled up in a ball on the couch.
"Rory, I think you're starting to scare the guests," she commented, laughter in her voice.
"Gee, thanks."
"Oh, sweetie, I know how hard this is for you. Why don't you go home, take a bubble bath, read a book, drink a pot of coffee, eat some ice cream, take a nap…"
"I get the idea, mom."
"Well, good. Now, off with you!"
Rory stood and gave her mother a fierce hug, then bravely wiped her eyes and headed out to face the world.
* * *
Five hours later, having done all the things her mother suggested, Rory was sound asleep on the living room couch. The insistent pealing of the doorbell interrupted a lovely dream she was having about a handsome prince with strong arms and gentle eyes.
Dragging herself to the front door, her eyes flew open when she discovered Tristan standing on the other side of it.
"Tristan! Hi! Um, what time is it?"
He glanced at his watch. "6:05. Sorry I'm a little early. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get here. I can go wait in the car if you want."
"No, that's okay. Come on in."
Noting the redness around her eyes, he asked, "Hey, is something wrong?"
Flustered, she said, "Um, yeah. I was having a little pity party for myself, and I fell asleep, and I totally forgot about the poetry thing."
"Look, I know it's probably none of my business, but what happened? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No…see, Dean and I…we broke up."
"Oh, Rory, I'm sorry. If you're not up to going out, I can just head home."
"That's okay. It would probably be good to get my mind off of things. Just give me a couple minutes to make myself look human again."
"I think you look great now."
She flushed slightly. "Thanks. You can wait in the living room," she said, gesturing in that general direction. "I shouldn't be long."
"Take your time."
While he waited for Rory, Tristan inspected the Gilmore living room. Unlike his house, this one felt…lived in. There were pictures of Rory everywhere, spanning her entire lifetime. The décor was an eclectic mix that somehow transcended tackiness.
True to her word, it only took Rory a few minutes to get ready. When she emerged, her face was freshly scrubbed, her hair pulled into a loose bun, and she was wearing a simple red tank top with white shorts. Knowing how vulnerable she was at the moment, Tristan refrained from his usual flirtatious banter.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Yeah, just let me leave a note for my mom."
Within minutes, they were out of the house, ensconced in Tristan's expensive sports car, en route to Hartford.
"Thanks for picking me up. I don't think I would have been up to driving tonight."
"No problem. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I will be…eventually."
"No offense, but I can't believe Dean would be foolish enough to let you get away a second time." I certainly wouldn't.
Rory gave a bitter laugh. "It's not like he had much choice in the matter. I broke up with him."
"Oh. Do you mind telling me what happened? I mean, just yesterday you were saying that you guys were going to be together a long time."
"Well…"
"If you don't feel comfortable talking to me, I understand."
"Thanks."
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Rory couldn't help but wonder how she had ended up there. What if Dean was right? What if Tristan was still looking for more than friendship from her? So far, he'd done nothing to indicate that was true, but… She shook her head. So what if he wanted more than friendship? It was her decision to make. Besides, it's not like she wasn't single now.
Where did that thought come from? she wondered. It's not like you want to date Tristan, after all. Do you?
Without completely comprehending that words were coming out of her mouth, she said, "If you really want to know, Dean and I broke up because of you."
At that point, Tristan almost lost control of the car. "What?"
In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. "Yeah, Dean was going on about how he didn't trust you around me, and I said we were going to try to be friends. He all but forbade me to be friends with you. Things kind of spiraled out of control after that, and I guess I just realized that I wasn't happy with our relationship anymore. The most important thing to Dean was that I loved him, but I don't think I ever really loved him enough. I'm not completely sure I loved him at all--I just knew that's what he wanted me to say. Do you remember that day at Chilton? Of course you do. Sorry. Anyway, that was the first time I told Dean I loved him. I was afraid that if I didn't say it, he'd leave. Pretty stupid reason, huh? I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. You must think I'm a complete fool."
"Not at all. I'm just really glad you feel like you can talk to me. That's what friends do, right?" Reaching across the gearshift, he briefly twined his fingers with hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure everything will work out for the best."
Rory couldn't explain the sudden sense of loss she felt when he released her hand. This is just Tristan, she reminded herself.
"I suppose you're right," she said. "It's just never easy to let go, I guess."
"I know. Believe me, I know."
They rode the rest of the way in silence, and for once Rory didn't feel compelled to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter.
When they arrived at the park, it was only 6:45, so they were able to secure a good spot on the lawn. Tristan had even thought to bring a blanket to sit on, along with a picnic basket full of food.
"I didn't know if you would eat dinner beforehand," he explained, "plus I can always eat."
"Actually, I'm pretty hungry. All I've had today is coffee and ice cream."
"Very healthy, Ms. Gilmore."
"Yeah, well, it's been a bad day."
"Right. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Just pass me a sandwich."
They passed the time before the performance with pleasant conversation, talking about their expectations for the upcoming school year. Once the recitation began, Rory sat in rapt silence, allowing Tristan to observe her unnoticed.
She doesn't have any idea how beautiful she is. I can't believe that she's actually here with me. I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but she did break up with him, at least partly so that we could be friends. That has to mean something, doesn't it?
Although he wasn't familiar with Dorothy Parker's work, Tristan found himself enjoying the performance. Much of the poetry was wry and witty, not at all the romantic drivel he had been half-expecting.
At the end of the evening, anyone who wanted to read or recite an original piece was invited to come up and do so.
Sighing, Rory turned to Tristan and commented, "I've always wanted to be able to write good poetry."
Without thinking, he said, "Yeah, it's a good outlet."
Surprised, she asked, "Do you write?"
Embarrassed, he replied, "Once in a while."
"Wow, that's amazing. Next time we come you should bring something to read."
"Next time?"
"Uh-huh. This flyer I got says they have this every week during the summer…" she trailed off. "I mean, if you'd like to come again. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume…"
He put his hand on her shoulder, and she shivered. "Don't worry about it--I'd love to do this again with you. Every week, if you'd like."
Mesmerized by the feel of his hand on her bare skin, she could only nod as another shiver ran through her.
Noticing, Tristan asked, "Are you cold?" He began rummaging through the picnic basket. "I brought a sweatshirt, just in case."
Taking the proffered piece of clothing, Rory mumbled, "Thanks," and slipped it over her head. The shirt was much too large, but it was soft, and warm, and best of all, it smelled of him, that heady aroma she remembered so well. Struggling to keep her wits about her, she slowly rose to her feet. "We should probably head back," she said, reluctant for the night to end.
"I almost forgot!" he exclaimed. Reaching into the picnic basket once more, he pulled out a large Thermos. "I brought coffee."
She stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. "You brought me coffee?"
"Yeah, I thought you liked it…"
The end of his sentence was drowned out as she squealed and nearly ripped the Thermos from his hand. Gazing at him with adoration, she said, "You can be my new best friend."
Laughing, he remarked, "If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have had Starbucks delivered to you every day at school."
Instantly, she sobered. "Tristan, why did you always work so hard to get my attention? Why was it so important? The girls at school fall all over themselves to get you to notice them. Why me?"
He shrugged. "Maybe because you didn't fall all over yourself."
"What, I was just a challenge?"
"Maybe at first. But Rory…you're special. Don't you know that by now? I've never met anyone like you, someone who was so completely her own person, regardless of what anyone else thought. How could I not want to get to know you better?"
She stared at him for a moment, blue eyes to blue eyes, and her gaze did not falter. "Thank you," she said solemnly.
"For what?"
"For reminding me that I don't have to be a different person just to make someone happy. It's not my fault that things didn't work out between Dean and me. I can't force myself to love him, and if we had stayed together, it would only have made things worse."
"So do you think you did the right thing?"
"For the first time since I did it, yes."
She looked so magnificent and angelic, standing there in the moonlight, clutching his Thermos tightly to her chest, that it was all he could do not to reach for her, gather her in his arms, and kiss her. He knew, though, that to do so would spoil everything that he had worked so hard to achieve. He wasn't about to lose her now. It might very well be that she would never love him the way that he loved her. He had finally realized, though, that even friendship with her was a more precious gift than the love of any other woman.
"I'm glad to hear it."
She nodded, and then focused her attention back on the coffee. "Did you bring mugs?"
"Did I bring mugs?" he scoffed. "Not only did I bring mugs, I brought travel mugs, so that we can enjoy our coffee on the way home without fear of spilling."
She laughed. "Are you sure you weren't a Boy Scout in a past life? You're certainly prepared."
"Believe it or not, I was a Boy Scout in this life."
She stopped dead. "No way."
"Really. I quit around fifth grade, when I realized Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts were never going to join up and have co-ed meetings."
"Figures."
"You wound me, Gilmore. Were you ever a Girl Scout?"
A shadow crossed her face. "No, but I masqueraded as one once and frightened a young girl."
"Huh?"
As they gathered their things, Rory told him how she had gone to Dean's house, posing as a Girl Scout. As they folded the blanket, each holding two corners and stepping close together to form the first half, Tristan told her, "Rory, that has got to be one of the most absurd things I have ever heard."
Folding the blanket had brought their faces within inches of one another, and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke. Looking up, seeing the laughter in his eyes, she promptly forgot about Dean, Girls Scouts, and everything that was not Tristan.
Knowing that the moment still wasn't right, Tristan cleared his throat and stepped back, breaking the spell that had been weaving itself around them. "Why don't you pour the coffee into the mugs, and I'll finish putting this away."
Mutely, she nodded, and soon they were headed back to the car.
Neither of them dared to speak as they drove, and Tristan flipped on the radio, hoping to ease the awkward silence. "With or Without You" began to play, and he realized he had left U2's The Joshua Tree in the CD player.
"Oh, I love this song!" exclaimed Rory. "Are you a U2 fan?"
Tristan nodded. "I actually saw them in concert at the beginning of the summer." He glanced at Rory before continuing. "P.J. Harvey was the opening act."
A wry grin came onto her face. "What a coincidence," she remarked dryly. "What did you end up doing with those tickets, anyway?"
"Nothing. They're still sitting on my dresser."
"You didn't even use them? Or give them away? What was the point of buying them if they were going to go to waste?"
"I bought them for you, Rory," he said quietly. "The concert was only worthwhile if you went with me."
"Oh. You seem to know an awful lot about the things I like. How is that?"
"I've just been paying attention."
She didn't know quite how to respond to that. Even though she had resented it at the time, no one had ever done anything like that for her. "I'm glad you were paying attention to my reading habits. I had a really nice time tonight."
"So did I. I wish we could have gotten to be friends sooner."
"Me too."
"So whose poetry are they presenting next week?"
"Hang on, let me check." Rory dug the folded flyer out of her back pocket, and quickly scanned the information. "E.E. Cummings. Do you want to go?"
"Wouldn't miss it. I'll even pack another picnic."
"No, don't. I'll have Sookie make up a basket for us. I can't let you do all the work."
"What's a sookie?"
"She's my mom's best friend, and the chef at the inn. Speaking of my mom, I wonder how her night went…"
* * *
Precisely at seven o'clock, the doorbell rang at the Gilmore house. There was a loud crash, followed by the sound of running footsteps, and at last a very frazzled Lorelei flung open the front door.
"Microwaves are the tools of the devil!" she proclaimed.
Accustomed to her outbursts, Luke just said, "Okay," and stepped into the house. Immediately, he sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"
"Popcorn. What is the point of having a 'popcorn' button on the microwave if you still have to stand there watching it pop to make sure it doesn't burn?"
"I don't know. I make popcorn on the stove."
"You would. Did you bring me coffee?"
Reluctantly, he handed her the steaming cup he had been holding behind his back.
"Only one?" she pouted.
"Lorelei…"
"Okay, okay. Why don't you go put the movie in, and I'll try the popcorn again?"
"Tell you what--I'll make the popcorn."
"Hmm. That's probably a good idea."
Five minutes later, they were seated side-by-side on the couch, reading the dedication to the "young at heart." As soon as the dialogue began, Lorelei began reciting it along with the characters.
"Exactly how many times have you seen this movie?"
"I stopped counting after 504."
Luke groaned. It was going to be a long night.
Some time later, after the first visit to the Wizard, Lorelei blurted out, "Look, Luke, flying monkeys! Max and I broke up."
Luke stopped dead, a popcorn kernel halfway to his mouth. "What did you just say?"
Lorelei took a deep breath. "Max and I broke up."
"I'm sorry."
She looked at him incredulously. "You're sorry? That's all you're going to say?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Aren't you even going to ask why we broke up?
His breath caught. She couldn't mean… "Fine. Why did you break up?"
"Because I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with him."
"Sounds like a good reason."
"I thought so. Rory asked me a funny question, though."
"What's that?"
"She asked whether there was anyone I couldn't imagine living my life without."
Luke swallowed, hard. "What did you tell her?"
"Well, her, of course. And Sookie. And you, naturally."
"Naturally," he mumbled.
"Hmm? So anyway, what about you? Be honest."
"I guess…you and Rory."
She laughed delightedly. "Well, we do keep you in business."
"It's not because of the diner, Lorelei."
"I know. I was just kidding. We're friends, too."
"That's not it either."
"Well, then what?"
Abruptly, he stood up, nearly knocking the popcorn on the floor. "I can't do this." He headed for the door.
"Luke, wait. Please tell me. I think it's important that I know."
"You're not going to like it."
"You don't know that."
"Fine. But never say I didn't give you fair warning."
"I won't."
"When I picture my future, I picture it with you and Rory. The three of us, together. She's like a daughter to me. And I…I love you, Lorelei. I don't even know how long I've loved you; I just know that I do. That's why Rachel left this last time. She could see that I had feelings for you. She even told me not to wait too long to tell you. But I did, and Max proposed, and I thought it was too late. I thought I had lost you forever. Now you tell me that maybe it's not too late, and I don't want to miss this chance. So now you know, and I've probably ruined everything. I'm going to go now."
Countless images began to flash through Lorelei's mind: the way that Luke had dropped everything to take her to the hospital to see her father; the time that her mother asked her if she had feelings for Luke; the way they had looked at each other in the picture that Rachel took of them; the certainty with which she knew he would do anything within his power for her and Rory; the raging testosterone display he had put on when Max was there; the fact that she never felt an emptiness in her heart when she was with him, that she had felt when she was with Max…
"Don't go."
He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression a mixture of fear and hope. "Give me a reason to stay."
She rose slowly, and crossed the room to where he stood. "Because, in the immortal words of Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral, 'In the immortal words of David Cassidy, I think I love you.'"
"You think, or you know?"
"What do you think this is, Dawson's Creek?"
He laughed. "Say it again."
"What do you think this is, Dawson's Creek?"
"Lorelei…"
"Oh, you meant the other thing. I love you."
"I love you, too."
He caught her hands in his, and pulled her close. Looking straight into her eyes, he hesitated only a moment before leaning in to kiss her. All the years of bottled-up emotions came flowing out of him with that kiss, and Lorelei literally felt her knees buckle. She knew, now, what it was that had been missing from her life, why she had never been able to settle down with a guy. None of them had been Luke.
When he finally broke away, she whispered, "I am really going to enjoy getting used to that."
Resting his forehead against hers, he replied, "The feeling's mutual."
* * *
"So what was your mom doing tonight?"
"Watching The Wizard of Oz."
"Right, you had mentioned that. Well, I'm sure her night was fine."
"I hope so. See, she was going to watch it with Luke. He owns the diner that we eat at most of the time. Anyway, she was going to tell him that she broke up with Mr. Medina. Luke's secretly in love with my mom—although I think the only person who doesn't know the secret is her—and I'm pretty sure she loves him too, only she doesn't realize it yet."
I hope it runs in the family. "Sounds very dramatic."
"It is. My mom could sell tickets to her life."
"I'd like to meet her. I was a little surprised she wasn't there when I picked you up."
"She had to work. The inn gets a little crazy sometimes. But you can meet her tonight. She should be there when we get home."
"Oh, so
I'm not just supposed to drop you at the curb and hit the accelerator?"
"Not if you want to live."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
A few minutes later, they pulled up to Rory's house. As expected, Luke's truck was still there. Unfortunately, so was Dean's.
"Oh, no," whispered Rory.
"What's wrong?"
"Dean's here."
"What do you want to do?"
"I'm going to have to face him sooner or later. I may as well get it over with."
"You sure?"
She nodded.
As soon as Tristan's car came to a halt, Dean came striding over. "Well, you certainly didn't waste any time, Rory."
"Dean, I told you what I was doing tonight."
"Yeah, but that was before we broke up. Don't you think you should have stuck around, at least given me the courtesy of talking to me?"
"There's nothing left to talk about."
"Oh, really. What, are you with him now?"
"Tristan is my friend."
"Right." Dean shifted his attention to Tristan. "I'll bet you think you've won. Well, you haven't."
Angrily, Rory got out of the car. "I am not a prize to be won. I think you should leave now."
"I'm not leaving until we settle this."
At that, Tristan got out of the car, and came to stand behind Rory.
"It's settled, Dean. We broke up. Please don't make this worse than it already is."
"Fine." Once again, he turned to Tristan. "None of this would have happened if it weren't for you. Rory may believe that you just want to be friends, but I don't buy it for a second." Then he pulled his arm back and punched Tristan in the face, before turning and walking back to his car.
Stunned, Tristan didn't even try to follow him. He just stood there, gingerly touching his nose, which was bleeding profusely.
"Tristan, are you alright? Did he break it?"
"I don't think so. I'm going to have a nasty bruise, though."
"I'm so sorry. Dean had no right to do that to you."
"It's okay. I guess we're even now."
Rory paused, remembering the night of the Chilton dance. "I guess so. Why don't you come inside, and we'll put some ice on that."
"Okay."
Slowly, she led him up the steps and into the house. Once inside, she glanced into the living room, where she saw Luke and her mother jump up from the couch, both wearing guilty expressions.
"Rory, hi! We didn't hear you drive up! Luke and I were just…"
"It's okay, mom. It's about time, really."
Lorelei turned to Luke. "Do you ever get the impression that my daughter is too smart for her own good?" At that point, Lorelei noticed Tristan. "Aren't you going to introduce us to…what on earth happened?"
"Dean was waiting outside for me, and he punched Tristan. Mom, Luke, this is Tristan DuGrey. Tristan, meet Luke Danes and my mother, Lorelei Gilmore. Now, do we have any ice to put on this?"
"I think so. Bring him into the kitchen and we'll see what we can do."
The four of them made their way into the other room, with Tristan trying desperately not to drip blood on the floor. Luke, who was about a hundred times more comfortable in a kitchen than either Rory or Lorelei, immediately took over. He got a damp paper towel for Tristan to wipe the blood off with, then fashioned a makeshift ice pack.
"Thanks," said Tristan.
"Anyone who will take a punch for my daughter can't be all bad, despite early reports to the contrary."
"Didn't Rory tell you? I've reformed."
"He brought me coffee," Rory piped up.
"You hear that, Luke? He brings coffee without being told. You should take notes."
"And you should cut back on your caffeine," he shot back.
"Apparently this being-in-love stuff doesn't eliminate arguing about coffee. So, aside from the bloody nose, did you two kids have fun tonight?"
"Yeah. The poetry reading was just amazing, mom. I think we're going to go again next week."
Lorelei's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I guess you two have managed to reconcile your differences."
Seeing that Lorelei was gearing up into Mom-the-Interrogator mode, Luke interjected, "I should probably get going. The diner opens early tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Tristan."
"Thanks, you too."
Lorelei's face fell. "Already? Alright, I'll walk you out to your car." As she and Luke headed out the door, she tossed off a warning. "You two play nice. But not too nice."
Tristan chuckled. "Your mom is something else. I like her."
"Everybody likes her—except maybe my grandma." Rory walked over to him, and bent down to examine his face. "Well, it's not swelling up too much, but it is starting to turn purple. I'm sure it'll be gone before school starts, though."
"I'm not too worried." Disconcerted by her close proximity, Tristan shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat. "You know, Rory, I feel like I should be honest with you." She stood up straight, and he breathed a little easier.
"About what?"
"Well, Dean was right about one thing. If this were my ideal world, you and I would be more than just friends. You've made it clear that that's not what you want, though, and I accept that. Please believe that I didn't have any ulterior motive tonight other than spending time with you. I've realized that I would much rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all."
"I see." She sat down in the chair next to his. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"I just think you should know how I feel. I'm very attracted to you, Rory, and that's not going to go away. Sooner or later, you would have picked up on it. I'd prefer that we get it out in the open now, so you can get over feeling uncomfortable, rather than risk ruining things down the line."
"I'm not really sure what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Can't we just accept it and move on? Besides, just in case the only thing stopping you from throwing me up against the wall and kissing me senseless was fear of rejection, now you can put your mind at ease and proceed at will."
The teasing banter made Rory feel more comfortable. This she was used to from him. Heartfelt confessions of desire were another matter entirely—especially since they weren't completely unwelcome. "As much as I'm sure you'd enjoy that, you're just going to have to wait."
"So you do concede it will happen?" he smirked.
For once, she smirked right back. "Sure it will. Tonight, in fact—when you're at home, in bed, sleeping."
He groaned. "You're a cold woman, Rory Gilmore."
"Yeah, but I somehow manage to keep your dreams warm at night." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just said.
Tristan nodded sagely. "I'm impressed. Your flirting skills have improved immensely since we first met. I think we can both agree that it's thanks to my excellent tutelage."
"You call that flirting?" she scoffed. Standing up once again, she leaned over him and released her hair from its bun, allowing it to brush his face as it fell. Then she reached out and skimmed one finger along his jaw line. "This is flirting."
His jaw literally dropped. "Rory, what has gotten into you?"
She stood up abruptly and shrugged. "I guess I'm just feeling…empowered. Besides, the look on your face right now is priceless."
"Yeah, well, I should probably go before you get any more empowered."
"Suit yourself." She grinned wickedly. "I was just starting to have fun."
He stood up and handed her the ice pack. "You know, it's not very nice to tease me like that, knowing what you know."
She seemed to ponder that statement as she walked him to the door, but didn't speak until he was already on the porch. "Maybe I wasn't teasing. Good night, Tristan." Before he could utter a single word, she shut the door, leaving him there to gape.
* * *
Inside the house, Rory leaned against the door and exhaled loudly. What have I done? What is it about him that makes me so…so…
"Hot."
Her head snapped up to stare at her mother, who had apparently come in the back door.
"Excuse me?"
"Tristan. He is definitely hot. You must have had to expend a lot of energy trying to hate someone that looked like that. I can see why you changed your mind."
"Mom! How Tristan looks has absolutely nothing to do with our being friends now."
"Yeah, but it can't hurt."
"Whatever, mom."
"So do you like him?"
"How can you even ask me that? Dean and I haven't even been broken up for 24 hours."
"And yet, you still managed to have a really great time with a gorgeous guy who's obviously crazy about you."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Aha! See, this is where you would normally protest that Tristan doesn't like you as anything more than a friend. Incidentally, this is revenge for that 'It's about time' remark."
"Geez, sorry. As for Tristan, just because he likes me doesn't mean we're going to start dating."
"Why not?"
"Because…because…"
"Because of the wonderful things he does?"
"No! And no more Wizard of Oz for you!"
"Try to stop me, munchkin."
"You think I can't?"
"I think you like Tristan."
"Aagh!"
"The moment you broke up with Dean, you made your choice. It was date Dean or be friends with Tristan. Look who won."
"Have I mentioned you are the must unsympathetic mother ever?"
"Not in the last fifty-three days." She paused. "What? I keep track. I just want you to be happy, Rory. You probably have some misguided notion that there should be an appropriate mourning period for your relationship with Dean. But if Tristan makes you happy, I say go for it. Look at me and Luke."
"That's different."
"How?"
"It just is. Tristan…confuses me. I'm not sure what I want. Somehow, knowing what he wants makes it even harder."
Lorelei crossed over to Rory and hugged her. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to push so hard. I just hope you know that no matter what the nature of your relationship with Tristan ends up being, it's very special."
"How do you know?"
"Just seeing you two together, the way you interact with each other--you've never been this way with anyone else. Not even Dean."
"I know. That's part of what makes it scary."
"Yeah. But sometimes the biggest risks reap the greatest rewards."
Rory tilted her head back to look at her mother. "Does being in love make you philosophical?"
"God, I hope not. What fun would that be?"
* * *