Pairing: R/T, of course
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.
Author's Note: As a
special treat for my fellow FF Trory thread posters, find the Cutting
Edge quote!
Unbreakable Heart
by Grace
Part 2: Are
You a Good Tristan or a Bad Tristan?
The bus ride to Chilton the next Monday seemed even longer than normal to Rory. She had distractedly kissed Dean goodbye at the bus stop, not noticing the worry and pain etching his face. She had resolved to offer Tristan her help today, and now that the decision was made, she just wanted to get it over with quickly. Much to her chagrin, Tristan didn't walk into their first hour class until mere seconds before the bell rang. Rory was surprised to see that he was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and his normally cocky swagger seemed subdued.
"Nice of you to join us, Mr. DuGrey," snapped Mr. O'Brien. "Now, since last time I checked this was trigonometry and not a Hollywood premiere, please remove those sunglasses and take your seat."
Without a word, Tristan slid into the desk next to Rory's, took off his sunglasses, and slipped them into the pocket of his blazer. When Rory glanced over at him, she was stunned to see deep purple bags beneath his eyes. He met her gaze without expression, and slowly she averted her eyes to face front once more.
For the rest of the hour, Rory was unable to focus. On some level, she knew that learning the unit circle would probably be important at some later juncture, but her primary concern was Tristan. The minutes dragged by, and by the time the bell finally rang, she was ready to tear her hair out.
She lingered by her desk as the other students filed out, since Tristan was taking his time gathering his books. When he at last got up to leave, she spoke.
"Tristan?"
He turned to face her, his weariness evident. "Yes, Mary?" he replied, an edge of sarcasm creeping into his voice.
"Please, I don't want…"
"You don't want what? Can we move this along?"
Rory sighed deeply. "I don't want to fight anymore."
His expression softened just a fraction. "Then what do you want, Rory?"
She blinked at his use of her name, and slowly stepped closer to him, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. "I want to help you, Tristan."
Instantly, his face hardened again. "So what is this, some kind of pity offering?"
Stung by his reaction, she shook her head. "No! I just, I don't know, I though maybe I could tutor you or something."
Tristan's heart skipped a beat. Was he dreaming? Was Rory Gilmore actually standing here before him, offering to do what he had spent most of the night struggling to figure out how to ask of her? There had to be a catch. "Why?"
Her brow crinkled. "What do you mean, why? I heard your parents say last night that you need to bring your grades up…"
He shook his head. "No. Why do you want to help me?"
Rory became flustered. "I don't know. I guess I don't really like how things are between us now. I thought maybe we could try to be friends."
He couldn't go through this again. It wasn't fair for her to get his hopes up, when he knew she would just dash them into a million pieces somewhere down the line. "I don't think so, Rory."
She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Tristan, please?"
His throat went dry as he gazed down at her hand in his. "Please let go," he whispered. When she didn't release him, he pleaded again, "Rory, you have to let go of me."
Still she held onto him, her blue eyes locked onto his face. "Why?"
"Because when you're touching me, I can't say no to you."
Ever so slightly, she tightened her grip. "Then don't say no."
He couldn't speak. His brilliant blue eyes were focused intently on her lips. My God, how he adored her. At that moment, all he wanted was to taste her lips against his once more. With a Herculean effort, he resisted the temptation, and simply said, "Okay. You can tutor me."
With his agreement, Rory at last released his hand, trying to ignore the sudden sense of loss she felt.
"Well, good, then. I'm glad you've finally come to your senses."
Regaining his composure now that he was free of her grasp, Tristan smirked. "I don't know, Mary, it seems to me you're the one who's finally coming around."
She scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Without her realizing it, Tristan had been advancing on her while they spoke, and Rory suddenly found herself backed against a wall. He leaned in and placed his hands on the wall, effectively caging her in. Bending low so that his breath would tickle her ear, he murmured, "You're certainly making a big effort to spend time with me."
Rory tried to sneer, but found her facial muscles were frozen in a dazed expression. "No I'm not," she protested weakly.
He shifted even closer, and when he spoke again, his lips grazed the skin at her temple. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
Hearing Shakespeare's words seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and she quickly ducked out from between his arms. "In your dreams, DuGrey." The bell rang, indicating the start of the next period. "Now come on, we're late for study hall."
Tristan hesitated a few moments before following her, and said to the empty classroom, "In my dreams, indeed."
* * *
The remainder of the day had passed quickly for both Tristan and Rory. During study hall, they had discreetly passed notes arranging their first tutoring session. Since Rory didn't have to work on The Franklin that afternoon, she had agreed to let Tristan drive her back to Stars Hollow, where they would study at her house.
When the day was over, Tristan waited patiently at Rory's locker as she stuffed at least twice as many books as she would actually need into her backpack. Still, he couldn't resist needling her about it.
"Hey Mary?" he began.
Without removing her head from her locker, she replied, "If you keep calling me that, you're going to have more to worry about than a 'C' in English."
He just grinned at her sharp retort. He tried again, "Hey Rory?"
This time, she poked her head around the locker door and smiled at him. "Yes?"
"Explain something to me. We have all but one class together. Now, look at my backpack." He gestured to the half-filled bag at his feet. "And then look at your backpack." He waved a hand at the already-filled-to-overflowing bag into which Rory was trying to stuff even more books. "How exactly does that make sense?"
Without thinking, she snapped, "Well, I'm not the one who needs a tutor, am I?"
Instantly, a look of hurt and self-loathing came onto Tristan's face. Rory clapped a hand over her mouth, appalled at what she had just said.
"Oh my God, Tristan, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that."
"Sure you did, or you wouldn't have said it," he responded bitterly.
She reached out and touched his hand. "No, Tris, I didn't. I guess I'm just not quite back into friend mode with you yet. I got too used to defending myself, trading insults."
At her touch, he felt his resolve to stay angry simply melt away. He wondered, briefly, if she had any idea what kind of power she held over him. Gently, he pulled his hand away from hers. "It's okay," he said softly. "I believe you. It doesn't matter anyway, because you're right."
Uncertain how to respond to that comment, Rory zipped up her backpack and shut her locker. "Can I ask you something?"
"Fire away," he said as he effortlessly hoisted her bag off the floor as if it was full of feathers instead of textbooks.
"I know you were in the top five of our class last year. What happened?"
You happened, Rory. Instead of blurting that out, Tristan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just not as motivated this year."
"Tris, there's got to be a reason."
His voice was pleading. "Rory, please just let it go."
"Fine. But if you ever want to talk about it…"
"I know—you'd listen."
They had reached Tristan's silver Corvette, and he held the passenger door open for her before placing their bags in the trunk and climbing in the car. They rode in silence for about five minutes, with Rory staring out the window as the familiar scenery passed by her.
"So, I, um, never said 'thank you' for offering to tutor me."
Rory turned from the window and faced him. "It's no big deal, really."
"It is to me."
"Well, then, you're welcome. But maybe you should wait to thank me until after your grades go up."
He grinned at her for the first time in what seemed like ages to Rory. "I'm sure you'll inspire me to great academic heights."
She smiled back at him, and his heart clenched at the radiant beauty of it. "I certainly hope so."
"You know, my parents said they would be happy to pay you."
Her expression turned to shock. "Tristan, that's not necessary. I offered to do this because I want to help."
He tore his eyes from the road momentarily to gaze at her somberly. "I've never known anyone like you, Rory."
She returned his stare, equally solemn. "You're pretty one-of-a-kind yourself."
He smirked at her. "And is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It depends on what day it is."
"Fair enough. So what is it today?"
She paused for a moment, and appeared to be concentrating very hard on her decision. "Well, today I'd have to say it's a…good thing."
He smiled brilliantly at her response, and Rory did a double take. She had never seen him smile like that, so genuine and carefree. She hadn't realized he was capable of something other than his trademarks smirks and grins. Unconsciously, she found herself returning the smile.
With that exchange of facial expressions, a small part of the barrier between them was eliminated. They lapsed into easy conversation about school and books and movies, and the remainder of the ride flew by.
When they were finally driving through Stars Hollow, Rory asked Tristan to stop at Luke's. As he pulled up in front of the diner, he noticed the sign, and gave Rory a puzzled look.
"What on earth do you need at the hardware store? Duct tape to shut me up with?"
"As good an idea as that is, no. This is a diner, not a hardware store."
"But the sign says…"
"I know what it says, Tristan. I live in this town, remember? I'll explain everything after I get our coffee. You wait here."
His face fell slightly, and he tried to mask the hurt with humor. "What, don't want to be seen with me?"
She groaned. "Of course not, silly. I just don't feel like spending twenty minutes explaining who you are when there's studying to be done!"
It was Tristan's turn to groan. "Don't remind me. Fine, I'll wait here. Oh, and Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"I take my coffee black."
"Duly noted. I'll be back in five."
She quickly climbed out of the car, and Tristan began to flip idly through the radio stations. There was a tap on his window, and he looked up, thinking Rory had forgotten something. Instead, staring back at him and scowling fiercely was…
…Bag Boy.