Here's the next chapter! hope you like it as well as the first two. Everything comes out in the open and is hung out like laundry; but what to do with it! Emotions rage.....the weather rages....people rage....lots of rage...coming up, and of course, the fabulous Maggie will make her return, no worries. I'm just giving her a small break.

disclaimer, first ch.

enjoy.

luce

"Hey!" interrupted Lorelai. "Hot shower first. I won't allow pneumonia catching in this house. Your lungs couldn't handle it."

"I'm cutting back, you know," he said with a trace of rebelliousness, but a weak smile. He knew she was right.

"Hey you know they make orange flavored Nico-gum now," Rory chirped brightly.

His head was splitting in two; he wanted to scream, focus! Instead, he gave in to their soothing maternal worries. Sinking into the couch, he almost wanted to sob at the warmth he felt around him. His mind laughed at him, and he thought of Maggie's clear, ringing laugh if he were to tell her he had wanted to cry because he felt warm. God, you're an idiot, DuGrey, he thought to himself.

He let the hot water run over his head, into his mouth, over his body as he stood in the shower with his eyes closed. Tempted to think of Maggie, instead, he desperately focused on warming up.

Toweling off, he stood in the middle of the bathroom awkwardly, suddenly realizing the obvious.

He cracked the door open, looked around, and seeing no one, stepped into the hallway.

Suddenly, Lorelai popped around the corner, holding some clothes. Taking a quick look at the shivering boy in the hallway, she laughed.

"Rory, naked boy alert! Quick! Hide in your room!" she yelled out good naturedly, and Tristan had to grin in spite of himself.

"Quite the exhibitionist, aren't we," she quipped, throwing the clothes at him. He caught them easily. "I'd better sashay along now," she said in a girly Southern drawl. "My motha wouldn't like me ta see such thangs," she grinned, weaving and skipping into her room. Tristan watched her departing back, resisting the urge to laugh. She was such a nutcase, and yet such a mother; she made him wish desperately he had been her child......

With a sudden shock he compared the mother-daughter couple in this house to Maggie and her mother; the difference was so stunning, so completely mind blowing that it left him a little dizzy. He trembled to think what Maggie's mother would have done should she have been there instead of Lorelai in that hallway. He felt sick instantly, and rushed back to the bathroom.

Gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, he splashed water on his face and rinsed out his mouth again; his hand ran over his angular jaw, and then rubbed his eyes.

I don't want to fuck up, please don't let Rory back away, please don't......his mind begged, but he didn't know who he was begging. Looking around as though someone might be watching, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, put his head in his hands and awkwardly started.

"Uh, God....I don't know if I'm talking to myself or if I'm talking to you, but if you exist, I'm sorry I didn't believe it, and please don't let me lose Rory. Please."

He fell silent, as he sat there making words that he knew would never come out right, trying to think of how to tell her.

Outside the door, Lorelai quietly smiled and stepped away. She had come to see if Tristan was ok; Rory was still upstairs, finishing up an assignment and changing into PJ's, but she had passed the bathroom on her way to the kitchen and stopped, curious at hearing a voice. Ethics or no ethics, she couldn't pass this up.

She wandered to the kitchen, still smiling.

"I'm on your side, you messed up kid. Hang in there," she said to the coffee pot. The pot did not reply.

Creeping into the living room hesitantly, Tristan called out for Lorelai.

"Yes little prince," he heard a voice from behind. "You summoned?"

Awkwardly, he shifted from one foot to the other.

"I see Christopher's stuff fits, that's good. You can sleep on the couch tonight unless you prefer the kitchen table or the bathtub. And here's some blankets." she continued, tossing some at him.

"Uh, thanks," he said warmly, and opened his mouth to speak again as she departed.

"And yes," she cut him off before he could even speak. "You may go up to talk to Rory. Don't let me catch you even-"

"I won't," he interrupted, smiling at her.

"Good." she said, her tone menacing and playful, then serious.

"Goodnight, Oh Queen of this domestic Domain and all that is off center." he saluted in mock respect.

"I like that. Could you call me that from now on?" joked Lorelai, turning off the lamps.

"It's kinda long. How about Lorelai?"

"If you must. But that's such a dumb name. Where in the world did you come up with that? Geez if my name was that I'd get it changed.." she said, rolling her eyes. "Goodnight Tristan."

"Night, Lorelai." he said, and then leaped out the stairs once she was out of sight. Hesitating before Rory's door, he took a deep breath and knocked. She opened it, and stared at him, then a slow, warm smile spread over her face.

"You're still up, get in here," she grinned, ushering him in and leaving the door open a crack. "I thought you went to sleep. Guess I should have known something like that couldn't wait. Why in the world would you go driving in this weather to my house in the evening without warning? You could've gotten killed! It's like the blizzard of 92 out there." she scolded, pacing around the room.

"Rory," he began, and she noticed his tone immediately. Quietly, she approached him.

"What happened," she said finally, sitting down next to him on the bed. The both crawled until their backs were against the wall, and they got comfortable.

"This is going to be a very bad night, I'm sure...." he began, and then noticed the unmistakable fear in her otherwise calm face.

"No, don't get scared. I haven't done anything horrible, at least not as of today. And that's what I need to talk about," he began, miserably.

"If it's about me, I'll understand," she began valiantly, only to have him cut her off.

"No, look, I got to explain everything first. If you don't ever want to talk to me again after this is over, I'll sleep on the couch and leave early in the morning before you wake up. But I have to say it, because if I don't I'll never be able to look at you without feeling guilty."

She sat mutely, her world beginning to break; tiny fissure cracks ran along it, and she shivered a little.

"Maggie's back," he burst out wildly, not knowing where to continue from there, but taking another breath to steady himself. Her eyes were wide and blue and wobbly.

"It's this...uh...girl, this girl I once knew a long time ago. It doesn't matter the whole story doesn't I mean she said if I told you the whole sordid story you wouldn't lay lips on me even if someone held a gun to your head and Rory I had to know if it was true, I can't keep everything a secret.....I ......Rory.....say something...." he rambled, desperate, watching her eyes and her lips as they trembled in the lamplight, and the shadows as they pooled around her face.

"Tristan, take a deep breath," she instructed the boy.

Shocked and desperately trying to get it together, she forced her mind to stop thinking the worst.

"Just say yes or no, ok?" she said calmly, her heart pounding.

"Did you have history with Maggie that you would be ashamed to tell me?" she asked, the words stinging her mouth.

He nodded, his face showing the strain of emotion.

"When she came back, I'm assuming this week, or today, or whenever, did you do anything with her?"

He shook his head vehemently. She studied his eyes, and found them to be honest and begging to be believed. She let out a breath she'd been holding in relief.

"Did you want to?" she asked softly, and Tristan suddenly groaned and grabbed his head.

"God Rory!" he hissed, turning away. "She's .....look, the effect she had on me will be one of those things I'll never forget, it's like the pull of the tide when you're trapped on a sand bar, it's like the whirlpool a ship makes when it sinks! She fucked me up! Bad!" he yelled, then quieted, remembering there were others in the house.

Rory nodded slowly, her head reeling. She understood, but she still felt a little sick. There was a demon chasing him. A demon she had no power over.

"Look Rory," he pleaded, crawling next to her. "Thinking of you was all that kept me sane, kept my mind clear; if it wasn't for the thought of you, she would have messed me up and left me again, Rory, please believe me! I wanted to break things, I wanted to kill her, do you understand?" he whispered desperately, grabbing her hands and forcing her to look him straight in the eye.

They both sat on the edge of the bed, emotions in turmoil.

"Look, the reason I'm telling you this is....because.....she said something that I've known for a long time, something that I've never had the guts to do; I have to, I don't care if you don't want to hear it," he said madly, getting up and pacing around the small room like an animal in a cage. "She said you'd never want me if you knew, that I'd disgust you; I know I will, that's why I'm scared to tell you. I have to tell you everything. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, things that could come between you and me. Things like Maggie."

He heard her draw in a sharp breath, and then put her face in her hands.

"Rory," he said quietly, desperately.....he was sinking.....she had been right.

She lifted up her face. It was composed. She smiled a tiny, quivering smile.

"Tristan, I want you to sit down next to me. And before you continue, I'm gonna tell you something."

She took his hand and pulled him towards her slowly, and sat him down.

"When I started this, I knew that you weren't exactly a choir boy. I knew sooner or later this would come up. And I knew sooner or later I was going to find out things I didn't want to know. But sooner is better than later if we want to still be the way we are. Just spit it all out, and then we'll take it from there."

He listened to her words dumbfounded, grace flooding him like a blow to the face, a stinging slap in her sweet, innocent words; he didn't deserve it, and yet she was trying. He wanted to cry.

"I've never been in love, but...I...." he started nervously, loathing his words, ashamed of his cowardice. He swallowed. "I've slept with quite a few people. Numbers are not important, let's just say that it wasn't a number that would horrify you. It's just more than....a person who's never been in love should have. Do you see?" he said carefully.

Rory nodded, but the words suffocated her. She bravely did the best she could to understand. It doesn't matter, she kept chanting silently. Be grateful. He's being honest.

"When I met Maggie....I ...ah....was something along the lines of a little obsessed. She was the first girl I chased. Granted, I only chased her for a month, but it was the longest I'd ever wanted anyone. She was messed up, beautiful...convenient, and well, beautiful. I wanted her. I didn't want honest conversations." he continued, his own words tasting sick.

Rory sat mutely, listening.

"We basically did a lot of things that I'm not proud of. You know that I smoke and drink and I've dabbled in the occasional mild joint and have spent basically the last four years getting in trouble with my dad covering up my tracks. I might be some little kingpin at Chilton, but these people really have no idea what all goes on during those vacations to Europe and Argentina and all over the USA; a lot happens at Chilton too, but, nothing that usually landed me in jail. My parents are getting tired of bailing me out and having their public relations firm cover me. But the part I was really afraid to tell you about was the ...girls. And Maggie's on top of that list. And now she's back."

Rory's eyes filled up with tears as she tried to process all the information. It hurt her, but rationally and carefully, she remembered it was all in the past and the past no longer mattered at the present.

"Rory, you have to believe me when I tell you that I'm trying. I've never known anything other than what.....I was used to. You made everything so different, so completely ......oh God, it's like you're another world all together. I'd give anything to have been born in this kind of place. But what I did is still there....and I was kinda hoping you'll .......still.....want to ........"

Silently, she interrupted the hesitant, painful words with a hug. The two held on tightly to each other, wanting to believe everything would be the same, desperately trying to believe none of it would matter. But in Rory's mind, all she could see was Tristan, waking up in the morning, the same sleepy blue eyes opening like the sky, wide and clean; with a messy redhead or blonde or brunette next to him, one hand snaked around him.....

She struggled silently for a minute, reminding herself that he only wanted her. Shaky, unsure, wanting to believe him, she hugged him tightly, not knowing what to say.

They pulled apart and she looked at him.

He was a mess, his eyes slightly red, tired and his lips practically bitten down from nervousness.

"I love you," he suddenly said, out of the blue, and Rory froze.

Deja vu snapped in electrified sequences in her head; Dean. Car. Tears, she wanted to scream, her voice was silent, she looked back at Tristan, Maggie, love? God! Love! What do I say....I, oh God don't let him think that I don-

"You don't have to say it back," he said softly, interrupting her mad, jumbled thoughts, her frantic mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "I just wanted you to know. I just want you think. I'll leave early in the morning if you want...."

"No, no, it's alright, you should probably wait for the snow...plow.." she sobbed, and shocked, suddenly realized she was crying.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear, his voice broken, as he held her tightly in his arms; he buried his head into her hair, and she was stunned to feel the damp warmth that dropped and sank among the strands. He was crying.

He made no sound besides the desperate whispers, but she felt one little warm, salty drop slide down her neck followed by another. She sat in mute shock.

Almost two years she had known him. Never had she seen him cry. She had believed him incapable of crying.......

He quickly wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve and sat up.

His mouth was steady but there was a imbalanced air about him, as though he might crash any moment. She watched him carefully.

He drew a deep breath. The worst seemed to be over. But Maggie's dulcet, ringing tones still echoed inside him.

"she wouldn't lay lips on you if someone held a gun to her head..she wouldn't lay lips..she wouldn't lay.."

Slowly, he lifted her chin, and brought his face closer till he could feel the faint wisp of breath between his lips, and then gently and sweetly alighted on hers for a second; the kiss grew a little deeper, as he lightly caressed her bottom lip between his, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Rory's head spun; an image of Tristan's mouth on some other girl cut through her mind razor sharp. She felt slightly nauseous. Get over it, she commanded herself. It was in the past. And now the past was back, waiting for him in the shadows, hunting him. What if he wanted the past? What could she offer in comparison to this Maggie? How could he want her after sleeping with this mysterious girl that controlled him purely through lust?

With a sharp, tiny intake of breath she broke off and hung her head.

This is it, thought Tristan bitterly. Maggie was right. Beautiful, terrible, right Maggie. Oh Maggie, how did you know, how did you know! His eyes burned with painful tears he restrained.

"I'm so sorry, Rory. I'm so sorry." he whispered almost inaudibly.

"C'mon, let's get some sleep, I've had enough excitement for tonight," she said softly motioning to the covers. He smiled a tired, wobbly smile.

"I think I'd better hit the couch. I don't want to disturb your mother in any way."

She nodded, and crawled under the covers. He tucked her in, relieved to find that she did not shrink from his touch; laying a tiny, gentle kiss on her forehead, he turned out the light and walked to the door.

"Goodnight Rory," he said quietly, slipping out.

"Tristan," she whispered, and he turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Everything's gonna be alright." she said, smiling in the darkness.

"I know," he replied softly, closing the door.

He snuggled up on the couch under the blankets, warm and tired; his head hurt viciously, his eyes were still damp, and his muscles were tense and pained. Inside him, a cold hand pressed down hard on his heart. Silence settled into it, and then a sick, thin feeling; a sob wrenching pull inside him, a rebellious resignation

Maggie had been right. Rory had pulled away. How could she want him after he had told her that? What was she thinking?

Outside, the snowflakes fell thicker and thicker and thicker.

The muffled ring of the cell phone woke him in the luminescent gray dawn. Groggily, he grabbed it, his heart plunging at the sound of the sweetly sultry tone pouring like honey poison through the line.

"Ring ring, good morning," it whispered in answer to his mumbled hello.

"Jesus Christ Maggie..."

"Well, they were thinking of naming me that. But it was too long, so they just went for Maggie. Did you sleep well? Let me say hi to Rainey. Lori. Roly. Er...Rorlei.." the giggle floated on the air, innocent and girlish.

He glared at the invisible girl.

"Her name's Rory, she's not sleeping with me, and I'm about to hang up on you," he hissed, his features twisted.

"Ah -ah-ah, hasty hasty. Relax, babe, this'll be quick and painless. Was I right?" she asked knowingly, with a pout in her innocent tone.

"Fuck off," he spat, and hung up.

His eyes burned with tears.

Yeah, Maggie. You won. But you didn't win all of me. The fuck I'll let you at me again.

Turning over, he went back to sleep, tossing and turning in the pearly grayness of the cool morning; dreams haunted him in vivid clarity, dreams all jumbled up. He dreamed Rory had a coat of arms on her inner thigh, laughing pointing, grabbing his arm.......he stared into her blue, beautiful eyes disbelieving, when he froze; the eyes were slowly and suddenly turning green, piercing, laughing, the laugh changed.....

He woke up with a start, in a cold sweat.

"Jesus Christ! Rory! RORY! Come out here!" Lorelai's voice rang through the house in a giddy laugh. "Rooooorrrryyy!!" he heard, listening to her running down the hall and undoubtedly jumping on her daughter's bed.

He sat up on the couch, rubbing his eyes. His head pounded. It felt like a hangover, but not quite as bad; he took one look out the window and all rational brain thought stopped.

The snow was piled in the front yard, drifts of it along the house; it covered the street, the drive, people's cars were weighed down with it; with shock, he realized it was too high to drive in.

He could hear their laughter as they ran towards the living room, the excited giggles and exchanged phrases that filtered in from other rooms as they bounced up to the living room. Ignoring him, they raced to the window.

"Wow," breathed Rory, making a patch of fog on the glass. The two stood breathless, looking at the world outside.

"SNOW DAY!" shrieked Lorelai suddenly, and Rory started laughing. She bounced over to him, giving him a hug and dancing around him.

"Look, we don't have to go to Chilton today! Quick, turn on the TV! And you're here! This is so awesome!" she grinned, grabbing his hands and attempting to force him to tango, when he promptly grabbed her and dramatically dipped her.

"Yeah!" yelled Lorelai, clapping and heading for the thermostat. "Nice. Your clothes are all in the dryer if you want to grab them, I've got a jacket you could hold somewhere around here of Max's that I found much too late to give back, and......oh my God Rory."

"What?" said Rory, cheeks flushed from the dance.

"Our heater isn't working," she said frantically, messing with the thermostat. "You know how it makes that bam-whoosh sound when it kicks it, there's nothing coming!"

"Oh God....did you have that man look at it last month when Luke told you to?"

"Er....."

"Mom!"

"Rory! I had an electricity bill to pay from all those Christmas lights that we strung and left on for a month! I completely forgot!"

"We're completely dying of hypothermia," groaned Rory.

"I wondered why it was getting so chilly in here," ventured Tristan.

"What about food?" said Rory suddenly.

Silence.

Rory began to whimper.

"We have only one choice. Head to Luke's." said Lorelai with a defeated look.

Tristan grinned. It was the most common last or first reserve in the Gilmore house.

"And do what? Do you think he'll be open?" whined Rory.

"He has to be! Who'll feed the shovelers?" spazzed Lorelai, throwing her arms out.

Tristan raised a curious eyebrow.

"We, uh, only have one snowplow," said Rory sheepishly.

Tristan grinned and sank back under his blankets, watching them argue.

"Mom we can't keep running to Luke everytime stuff like this happens! What if he doesn't want to fix our heater in the dead of winter!"

"Then, uh, we show a little skin?"

"Mom!"

"We beg! We're good at begging! You can seduce Jess into coming over. He's good at fixing things, remember? The toaster?"

"I object...." came Tristan's muffled voice from under the covers.

Rory rolled her eyes.

"We'll die of cold and hunger before we get there."

"Well, when your toes turn black and fall off from the cold we can eat them and thus save ourselves."

"You are disgusting," moaned Rory.

"Cmon, put on your snowbunny gear and let's go. Tristan......yeah. We'll have to do the best we can. We could use the exercise anyway, right?" sighed Lorelai.

"Speak for yourself," came the voice from the couch.

"I see someone's volunteering to be our first desperation meal in case we don't make it to Luke's by lunch. I don't know about you Ror, but I'd love me a nice little bite out of that cute little butt."

"Ewww Mom! I insist you be nice to my guest," frowned Rory playfully.

Tristan sprang up from the couch.

"I'm putting my clothes on now before your evil plans go into action." he muttered, disappearing down the hall.

"Dryer's last room to your left!" yelled Lorelai, heading to her room. "Get dressed, Ror. It's gonna be a long walk."

Wearily, Luke started up the grill, slicing potatoes on the cutting board. He'd finally gotten the diner nice and warm, and the snow shoveled off the steps and into the street. The plow had managed to clear off at least some of the main street before heading in some general direction. Jess tramped downstairs, stretching. He wore a white undershirt and jeans, the thick black hair carefully tamed, showered andfreshly shaved. He looked strangely alert.

"Why are you up so early?" grunted Luke, looking at him curiously.

Jess shrugged, and headed for the coffee machine.

"Slept good," was his only reply. Satisfied, Luke went back to the potatoes.

"Been workin' on the old car out back, the carburetor was jacked. Some circuits shorting. Injection a problem." continued Jess, surprising Luke. The older man struggled to think of a reply, not used to making conversation with the usually moody, sullen figure. Suddenly, he just relaxed. A small smile formed.

"How far along?"

"Bout two weeks. Long time till it's done. Was thinkin' bout selling."

"With your history, maybe you should let me try to sell," said Luke with a tiny smile. Jess looked at him warily, before relaxing and actually smiling a little.

"Yeah..." replied Jess, picking up a dishrag.

"So,.." said Luke...suddenly eyeing the long, thin rounded shape in Jess' shirt pocket.

"I'm gonna take care of the front while you're back here," said Jess suddenly, grabbing the dishrag and disappearing through the door.

Luke sighed and shook his head. He pondered the situation. The gum hadn't helped. The diseased lung pictures definitely hadn't. And the patch....well.....according to what he'd just seen, the patch didn't seem to be doing too well either. His ears suddenly perked at the sound of a voice he recognized all too well.

Dropping the potato, he walked out to the front.

"Lorelai!" he said, suddenly breaking in the conversation.

"Luke!" she grinned, turning to him. "Guess what!"

He groaned. She was here before the plow had cleared her street. This could not be good."

"This can't be good," he said, voicing his thoughts.

"Ding ding ding! You have guessed correctly! Your prize is....the privilege of rescuing the damsel in distress!"

"God Lorelai," he began, a little smile threatening to break through in spite of his effort to suppress it.

She approached him quickly, and motioned Jess away.

Leaning over the counter, her face suddenly got serious.

"Luke I'm really sorry, I don't know what to do, my heater's broken and we have no groceries; Taylor won't open because he's declaring it an official Stars Hollow Snow Festival Day, and he doesn't open on holidays. I've got two kids in the house, one of which can't drive back to his house until at least tomorrow. Got any ideas?" he said quietly.

Luke rubbed his neck and sighed heavily.

"I'll come over and take a look at it when the plow clears your street. Stay in here and eat for now. We'll think of something later. It's already 2 and it's not looking good out there." he said, and she looked at him curiously.

"What?" he said a little nervously.

"That's the most amount of words I've ever heard you string together in one uninterrupted ..sequence..."

"Ok, that's enough. Go and order."

"Thank you Luke," she said warmly, and threw her arms around his neck in a quick hug. Stunned, he watched her go, holding the coffee pot.

"If you don't move in the next few seconds I'm gonna have to conclude that you've gone into paralytic shock. Is that a little drool forming on your lower lip?" suddenly came the wry voice behind him, probing him with it's sarcastic tone that jabbed right where it mattered.

"Drop the comedy act," snarled Luke, and set the coffee pot on the counter, quickly departing to the kitchen.

Jess chuckled. He loved antagonizing the man sometimes. It was clear his uncle had a thing for Lorelai, as well hidden as he kept it; no one on the outside would have been able to confirm it.

But for now, Jess had more pressing matters. He carefully scrutinized the blond boy at their table. He had seen Tristan before, even talked to him on occasion when Rory brought him in sometimes. He knew the boy held a certain place in her life. Although he had once held a little ambition concerning Rory, it had disappeared after a year or so; other things had come his way. But he was still her friend; he had taken upon himself to see that she was happy and nothing bothered her in Stars Hollow. When she had broken up with Dean at the end of summer before junior year, there had been a fight in front of Luke's. Sure, he was guilty. But he still grinned at the memory of the other boy's nose bleeding.

Smiling to himself, Jess wiped the counter and set the fresh muffins in the glass stand. But with carefully narrowed eyes, he studied the two this morning. There was something off kilter.

Rory and Tristan were their normal selves, but something he couldn't place hovered there. He knew if he found out the boy was guilty of anything, that he would smash his face in. Angry at even the thought, he furiously attacked the countertops with the spray cleaner.

An hour had passed, when it happened.

The lights quickly flickered.

Everyone looked up. There was no one left in the restaurant besides the trio and Luke and Jess; there was silence for a moment, when the lights flickered out again and died.

"Did you notice it had started snowing?" asked Rory in a hushed voice, and everyone looked out the window.

The sky was flat and gray and dull; it hung low and close, darkness seeming to fill the air. Outside, people were scurrying to their respective places, the street almost deserted. A tense feeling was in the air.

The wind began to wail outside the diner, making the shutters rattle.

"Shit," murmured Luke under his breath, heading for the front.

A gale swept past the side of the small building, smashing thick flakes against the pane; outside, the storm began.

Oooh! We've got five people trapped in a diner/apartment for a night, TENSION, blood, GORE, conflict, storm, and then......what? Do I sense some bonding over.....cigarettes?? Ts Maggie about to drastically re-enter the picture for Tristan.....Rory oh Rory, you are one lucky girl.....maybe.......or not.

i'd love your opinion. feel so free.......to drop a line....