Pairing: R/T, of course
Rating: PG-13 at the most
Spoilers: May reference anything and everything from Seasons 1 & 2, although most things from the Season 2 timeframe will deviate from canon
Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brothers Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.
A/N: Apparently this story isn't as dead as some of you may have thought. I honestly believed that this would be the final chapter, but then I started writing, and, well, it's not. I think there will be one more. Here's hoping I get it out in a slightly more timely fashion.
Unbreakable Heart
by Grace
Part 10: Yeah, I'm Stunned There's a Part 10, Too
Tristan and Rory strolled through Stars Hollow, hand in hand. She had already shown him the Independence Inn and the shed where she and her mother had lived, and they had stopped at Kim's Antiques so he could meet Lane. They had just picked up dinner at Al's, and now they were cutting through the center of town for a quick stop at the gazebo.
"Do you ever feel like you're living in a fairy tale, Rory?" Tristan asked quietly.
She pulled him down to sit beside her on the steps of the gazebo before replying. "Not really. I mean, this is all I've ever known. It's normal to me. Besides, the whole MIA-dad thing kills some of the fantasy."
"Princesses in Disney movies rarely have both parents," he pointed out with a chuckle.
Her brow furrowed for a moment. "Sleeping Beauty did!" she cried triumphantly.
"Technically, yes, but she was taken from them and raised for Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather."
"You know their names?" she giggled.
"So?" His tone was defensive. "My nanny was a Disney junkie."
"Wow, that sentence just screams 'Mary Poppins on crack.'"
He groaned. "That is wrong on so many levels."
"It really is, isn't it? A desecration of Julie Andrews' memory."
"She's not dead, you know."
"I know. But she's no longer a brunette."
"Is that supposed to make sense?"
"It does to me."
"That's fine, then."
"Hey, Tristan?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
He willingly complied, cupping her face in his hands. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose before allowing his lips to descend upon hers. He was struck by the sweet flavor of her cherry lip-gloss, the suppleness of her lips, the searing heat of her tongue as it traced the seam of his lips…
To her surprise, he pulled back. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked nervously.
He hugged her close and laughed. "No, you did everything right. I just thought maybe we shouldn't start something that won't be finished before the food is stone cold."
She tilted her head up to look at him, her blue eyes glowing with mischief. "So do I get a rain check?"
"Rory, you can have a million rain checks."
"I'll be keeping count, you know."
"You do that."
"You know, you could kiss me almost 16,000 times a day until we're eighty, and it still wouldn't be a million."
"You're tutoring me in math next."
"Okay."
"Does this mean you want to be kissing me when we're eighty?"
"Hmm. You'll probably be all wrinkly."
She giggled when he poked her side, tickling her.
"I'm not making any promises, Tristan, but yes, kissing you for the next sixty-three years sounds pretty appealing."
"You're going to be the death of me, Rory."
"At least you'll die happy."
"Nah. I'll die ecstatic."
* * *
Paris eyed Lorelai warily as the older woman sat down on Rory's bed. "Look, Ms. Gilmore…"
Lorelai cut her off. "Point one: it's Lorelai. Point two: it's my turn to talk, so I suggest you forget whatever excuse about homework you were about to feed me. Point three: your right to argue with me was forfeited the second you walked into my home unannounced and uninvited. So sit down, shut up, and listen to me."
"Fantastic parenting skills you've got there," Paris snapped. "And I'll stand, thanks."
Lorelai's eyes narrowed. "You obviously have a problem with my daughter. My daughter's problems become my problems, because no one is allowed to deliberately hurt her, least of all some self-centered, wealthy, jealous brat who wouldn't see a potential friend if it bit her in the ass. Of course, if you're bitten in the ass, it's probably not by a potential friend, and they'd most likely be behind you and therefore hard to see… Anyway, bad example."
"Do you have a point?" Paris interjected snidely.
"Of course I have a point. And I have manners. You should work on those."
"I've reached a new low—etiquette lessons from Lorelai Gilmore, the Whore of Hartford."
Dumbfounded, Lorelai stared for a moment. "Good to know you have such a high opinion of me. Feeling's mutual, babe. As I was saying, you don't like Rory much. I realize that the whole kind, intelligent, caring, sweet, innocent, genuine personality must be trying for you, but for some reason, my daughter has felt it important to try and be your friend."
Paris snorted. "By betraying me with Tristan?"
"See, that's where you're obviously getting confused. Rory's relationship with Tristan has absolutely nothing to do with you. Do you know why?"
"Enlighten me."
"Gladly. The world doesn't revolve around you, Paris. My God, who do you think you are? Dawson Leery? Tristan likes Rory. Rory likes Tristan. Their feelings are completely independent of your obsessive Tristan-Lust and your irrational Rory-Hate. They aren't dating just to spite you."
"Somehow that's less than comforting."
Lorelai threw up her hands in defeat. "I give up. If you want to wallow in your misery, be my guest—just do it in someone else's house. Like your own. On the other hand, if you took the stick out of your ass and the blinders off your eyes, you might discover that there are some pretty amazing guys out there. Guys who are going to appreciate your sarcastic wit and your intelligence, rather than be intimidated by it. One of them happens to be in my bathroom right now. You and Jess seemed to be hitting it off until you did your whole 'open mouth, insert foot' routine. Maybe if you just threw him up against the wall and kissed him, you wouldn't have enough time to say something stupid."
With that, Lorelai rose from the bed and dramatically exited the bedroom.
* * *
Tristan froze as he and Rory approached the Gilmore house.
"What's wrong?"
"Paris is here."
Rory groaned and buried her face in Tristan's shoulder. "Great. Maybe I should invite Dean over and they can have a Tristan-and-Rory Haters Anonymous meeting."
"Fun as that sounds, I'd rather go back to the gazebo and make out some more."
"Nice try, lover boy. My hunger is currently overwhelming my fear of the Wrath of Paris."
"Is that like the Wrath of Khan? And did you just call me 'lover boy'?"
"I could totally see Paris as a Klingon. And don't get used to it."
"The fact that I'm following this conversation at all is terrifying me. Call me 'lover boy' again. I want to see if my head explodes."
"I like your head where it is. Now quit stalling."
"You're far too perceptive to want to date someone like me."
"I know. You're my trophy boyfriend. I needed a guy who'd look good in a Speedo."
He turned her around to face him and circled her waist with his arms. "Aww. You think I'm gor-geous. You want to kiss me…" he teased in a singsong voice.
You're quoting Ms. Congeniality," she said, her voice and expression deadpan.
"You said you wanted to see me in a Speedo," he retorted, matching her tone.
"I guess it's a draw, then."
"Ready to go inside?"
"You're the one stalling."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Rock paper scissors?"
She stopped dead at his bizarre response. "Um, sure."
They held out their fists, and Rory burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"We're still stalling."
"Fine." Abruptly, Tristan grabbed her hand, practically hauled her up the steps, and together they burst through the front door.
* * *
Jess dried off his hands and surveyed the now non-leaky faucet with satisfaction. Every once in a while, it was good to feel useful.
At that thought, he quickly wiped the grin off his face. After all, he didn't want to ruin his reputation.
Exiting the bathroom, he was literally bowled over by a furious Paris. Within seconds, they were both sprawled unceremoniously on the floor, limbs entangled.
"You certainly know how to make an entrance," Jess wheezed, the wind having been knocked out of him.
Struggling to bite back the sharp retort hovering on the tip of her tongue, Paris hoisted herself off the floor with what she hoped was a modicum of dignity. "I'm sorry," she said stiffly. "I was in a hurry, and I didn't see you."
Jess stood up slowly, gazing at her speculatively. "So where's the fire?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why the big hurry to leave?"
Much to her own astonishment, Paris heard herself being honest in her reply. "I don't particularly want to be here when Tristan and Rory get back."
As if on cue, they heard the front door slam.
"Too late," Jess said lightly.
"Perfect," she snapped. "I don't suppose there's another way out of here?"
He quirked a lopsided grin in her direction, then grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in the direction of Rory's room.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"You asked for another way out; I'm giving you one."
"This had better work."
"Yes, your highness."
"Spare me the dramatics, Jess. I've had more than enough histrionics for one day."
They had reached the window in Rory's room, and Paris wrenched her hand away from Jess. "You honestly think that I'm going to go through that?"
Jess shrugged. "Have it your way. We'll go out the front door, and along the way, you can express your best wishes to the happy couple."
She glared at him for a moment. "How far down is the ground?"
"That's the spirit. It's only a couple feet, but I'll go first, just in case you need me to break your fall."
"And here I thought chivalry was dead," she snarked.
He just grinned at her, then slipped through the window and dropped to the ground in one fluid movement.
"Anytime, Rapunzel," he called up softly.
With a determined tilt of her chin, Paris clambered out the window, suddenly acutely aware that she was still wearing her Chilton skirt. It was a fact not lost on Jess, either. No one had ever accused him of being a gentleman, and when his eyes caught a flash of what appeared to be red satin, he didn't avert his gaze.
Unfortunately, Paris was not oblivious to his stares. "Do you mind?" she snapped.
"Not at all," he smirked. "Red is one of my favorite colors."
"Good, then you won't mind when I make you bleed."
"Getting a bit vicious, aren't you? Don't worry, I promise not to compromise your virtue."
"How utterly reassuring," Paris said, while finally descending to the ground beside him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have quite a bit of homework to do, so I need to get going."
Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and marched off in the direction of her car.
"Not so fast, Paris," Jess called out.
She ignored him, reaching into the pocket of her blazer for her keys. Her brow furrowed when she didn't find them there, and then she heard a familiar jingle behind her.
Turning, Paris saw her keys dangling from Jess' fingertips, the silver glinting in the moonlight. Narrowing her eyes, she advanced on him. "You picked my pocket?" she bit out.
Jess shrugged. "Something like that. Now come in, I'm in the mood for a joyride."
Paris closed the distance between them and grabbed for her keys, grunting with frustration when he held them above her head. "If you think for one second that I'm going to let you drive my car, you're severely delusional."
"Breathe, Frenchie. You of all people deserve to cut loose a little. It'll be fun."
"I told you, I have homework."
"So do I, but you don't see me worrying."
"That's because you're a delinquent."
"Ah, I see you got the memo from the Stars Hollow Town Council. It's either joyriding with me or Three's Company with Rory and Tristan."
"That's blackmail," she protested.
"I thought you might recognize it. Make your choice, or I'm calling in the cavalry."
"I hate you."
"I know. But hey, there's a thin line…"
"Shut up and drive, Jess."
* * *
Rory and Tristan were in the kitchen setting out dinner when they heard a car engine roar to life. Running to the front window, Rory was shocked to see Paris' BMW pulling away from the house, with Jess at the wheel.
After recovering from her initial astonishment, Rory began to howl with laughter, causing Lorelai and Tristan to come running.
"What's going on?" Tristan asked, immediately followed by Lorelai inquiring, "What's so funny?"
Gasping for breath, it took Rory a moment before she could respond. "Paris and Jess just left. Together. In Paris' car. Jess was driving."
Lorelai and Tristan stared at her in stunned silence. It was Tristan who recovered first.
"I guess you were right, Rory."
"Why do you sound so shocked?" she teased.
"I just didn't expect you to be right so soon," he replied.
"Never underestimate the power of a Gilmore girl."
"I wouldn't dream of it. Hey, now that the cheap entertainment is gone, can we eat dinner?"
"Definitely," agreed Lorelai.
"Besides, the sooner we eat, the sooner we can get back to our studying."
"Doesn't she ever quit?" whined Tristan.
"No, she's too stubborn."
"Wonder where she gets that from," he mumbled.
"Watch it, or I'll tell her to make you study extra hard."
"You're a cruel woman, Lorelai. I'm going to need sustenance for this."
The two women nodded their agreement, and they headed back to the kitchen.
To be continued…