Disclaimer: Same as always. Don't own anything… yet.

A/N: Oh the sleeping-together-thing-but-I-don't-know-your-name means that they expected it to be a one-night-stand.

Chapter 2: You're not you

Rory turned around, out of Starbucks, and headed straight for Tristan's apartment. The car screeched to a halt right outside the front gate. The guard, seeing that she did not live here, asked for which apartment she tended to visit. Rory paused, unsure of what to say. She had never gotten the name of the guy. She looked at the car.

"Oh, I'm just returning this baby to its owner." She said, pointing to the BMW.

The guard laughed. "You must mean Tristan."

Rory stopped whatever she was doing and stared at the man. "His name is Tristan?" She questioned. Rory had only known one Tristan. And that was…

"Yeah. Tristan Dugrey."

Rory opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The only thought that ran around her mind hit her at full speed. She had spent the night at Tristan's. The same guy, who had tormented her every living second at Chilton, then was later sent to Military School. Although she couldn't understand why she had changed so much then, she understood now. It was because Tristan had left her.

Ever since then, she had been on an emotional roller coaster, alternating between Good Rory and Bad Rory. Good Rory was the girl that she was before she changed into Bad Rory. [I.e. Reading books during lunch, talking to no one during Chilton hours]. Bad Rory is the girl that she can be. [Flirting with every capable male in the vicinity, dressed to kill, bad-ass humour and wit, doing all this, and not losing the brain that good Rory has.]

The guard smiled nicely at her, and told her that Tristan was in apartment 21. Rory gulped, got in the car that belonged to Tristan, and drove away trying to find Tristan's apartment. She parked the car and walked into the 20-floors [and above] building. She paused outside Tristan's door, debating whether or not she should ring the doorbell. She could just drop it on the Welcome rug. She thought about it a little more, and then decided that leaving it on the rug would be the coward's way out, and Rory Gilmore was anything but a coward. As her finger zoned in to the doorbell, she began getting second thoughts, or was it third thoughts? However, before she could decide which number of thoughts it was, the doorbell echoed through the apartment, leaving Rory Gilmore with mouth hanging open at the indecency of it all.

'I didn't even have the chance to think about it all,' thought Rory, feeling extremely frustrated. 'What was she going to do when Tristan opens the door, and…

The door opened, leaving a very-cleaned-up-looking Tristan. He stared at her for a few moments, trying to decide what to do, and cursed the fact that he hadn't asked who was at the door. He smirked, and decided to leave things to fate. He stepped aside, letting her enter into his posh apartment once again.

"Rory," he stated.

"Tristan," she answered back, in the same monotone.

He spread out his arms and hugged her. To his surprise, she hugged back.

"I've missed you," he told her, as they stepped back from each other.

At these words, Rory's face lit up like a lightbulb.

"I haven't seen you in ages," said Rory, trying to lighten up the conversation.

Tristan led them to his kitchen.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he inquired.

Rory laughed. "This sounds too much like last night."

"Rory, you've changed so much. The Rory that I knew in Chilton would never have done something like… what we did last night," said Tristan, peering into her eyes.

Rory fell silent at this, and Tristan was afraid that he had gone too far.

"I've changed. I'm not the same Rory that you thought you knew back then. But then again, you have changed too," Rory spoke and closed her eyes as she felt the easy tears threaten to spill.

Tristan took all of this in, and then some.

"I know you Rory. Back then, in Chilton, I mean. I know your favourite colour is pastal blue, it matches the shade of your eyes. I know that your favourite author is J.K. Rowling, although you will never admit it to the public, I know that you and your mother are best friends, I know that you love coffee almost as much as you love your life, and I know that although you complain and whine about living in Stars Hollow, you love it all the same."

Rory opened her mouth, and yet again no sound came out. After a moment of tense silence, she spoke again.

"Did I come with a Rory manual or something?" she smirked.

Tristan laughed, relieved to feel the tension fade away. "Now that is something that the Rory I know and learned to tolerate, would say."

Rory smiled. "You would tolerate me in any way you found me. Drunken Rory, Flirtatious Rory, Studious Rory…"

Tristan smirked. "Mm hmm, that is one of my few weak points."

"How about a weak point out of many other weak points," quipped Rory.

"Mary, Mary. What did I tell you? I only have a few weak points, which is more that what I can say for you."

Rory fell silent at this. She thought about what he had just called her: Mary.

"Do you still that I'm a Mary?" asked Rory, silently praying with the Gods for him to say yes.

"Rory, even though you're more like a Magdalene now…." Tristan paused and then winced at the pain he felt from her slight punch. "I still think that you're my Mary."