Disclaimer: Not mine, but I've borrowed them to perform my every whim.

Part 3

Slightly disoriented, Rory awakened to Tristan's warm breath on the back of her neck. his heavy, deep breaths indicating that he was still asleep. Glancing at the nightstand, she noted that it was about 5 in the morning. She attempted to move from the bed, only to realize something was holding her back. She felt an unusual weight weighing down her middle. Her searching hands quickly encountered Tristan's arm, draped carelessly over her waist. Rory twisted under the weight of his arm, mildly surprised when he strengthened his hold. Her slight movement halted by his possessive grasp.. She managed to turn so that she was facing him, her face only inches from his.

Rory laid motionless, staring at the outline of his face. The slumber had removed the lines of tension from under his eyes. In the dimly lit room, she could make out each of his features, admiring his looks. She smiled timidly at their present state. In his state of sleep, he appeared completely harmless. But she knew that all he had to do was awaken and give her a smile or say her name, and she would melt. It was growing more and more difficult for her to fight her growing attraction. And she was beginning to wonder if she really wanted to fight it. Tonight had been special. He was such a gentleman, completely opposite of the Tristan she knew. She inwardly winced as she recalled the conversations with his parents. She had begun to understand why Tristan was the way he was. Anyone with a homelife such as his deserved to be cut a little slack.

Unable to resist the temptation, she gently raised her arms, lacing her fingers through his tousled hair. He began to stir and she quickly withdrew her hand as if she had just been burned. He again tightened his hold, bringing her body closer to his. She instinctively put her hands in front of her, forcing them to come in contact with his chest. Her eyes flickered to his, verifying that he was still sleeping.

After a few seconds, his breathing returned to the previous state, unaware that he had her in such a hold. Satisfied that he was asleep, Rory could feel his bare chest with her hands. The warmth of his body and the sensation of his defined muscles caused her heart to skip a beat. She moved her hand slightly, noting the brief twitching of the muscles. Afraid to wake him, she pulled her hands away, disappointed at the lack of contact, unable to finish her foray over his taut stomach.

She laid motionless for a few minutes, simply looking upon the man before her. A strange feeling swept over her, shivering as the goose-bumps crept up her skin. He was attractive, she had to give him that, but she had never fallen for a guy based on looks alone. She stopped at that thought. Fallen. Had she indeed fallen for him? Her mind raced as she tried to wrap her thoughts around the idea and what that idea meant. Perhaps that was the only explanation for the way she felt. The only reason he affected her in such a way. She couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the thought of him next to her. And she knew the heated sensations of his skin upon hers.

She had wanted him to kiss her tonight, to feel his lips on hers once again. She could barely contain the sickening feeling when the flash went off, snapping them out of their trance. She never received her kiss, and her heart longed for the day when she would once again know the pleasure of his kiss.

A slight smile crossed her lips. Twenty four hours ago, she was convincing herself of how little he meant to her. Convincing herself that after all he had done, they could still be friends. Only friends. And now, here she lay, wrapped up in his arms, admitting how much she needed him. His rhythmic breathing and their intimate embrace were hypnotically lulling her back to sleep. Her eyes flickered shut, giving in to sleep that beckoned.

She had indeed fallen.

Still half asleep, Rory reached out her arm to the bed beside her, finding it strange when she felt emptiness. She continued to feel around, uncertain of what she was looking for, but knowing she was missing something. She started to awaken fully, realizing what, or rather who, she was searching for.

Rory turned to her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She let out a small yawn, mentally waking herself up. As she became more aware of her surrounding, her senses returned. And with that, her sense of smell. Her head snapped up, quickly pulling herself to her knees. Her eyes darted around the empty room, frantically searching for the source of the heavenly smell. Her gaze crossed the nightstand, finding the object of desire.

"Coffee." It was spoken in a tone of reverence, paying homage to the creator of the magnificent drug. She quickly scooted across the bed, wrapping both hands around the styrofoam cup. She cautiously took a drink, careful not to scorch her tongue on the hot liquid.

She scrunched up her nose, twisting her face into a disgusted look. "Eww. Really bad coffee."

Tristan entered the room, shutting the door with his foot. He couldn't contain his laughter as he saw her, kneeling on the bed, coffee in hand, spitting to get the taste out of her mouth. She looked up when she heard him laughing at her, taking pleasure in her state.

"You know, bringing a girl bad coffee has led to hanging in some countries."

The laughter had stopped but the smirk remained. He was glad she was talking to him, afraid that his actions the previous night would have returned him to jerk status in her eyes. "Then it's a good thing we don't live in one of those countries."

"And laughing at her while she drank said bad coffee resulted could result in decapitation."

"If I'm hanged, doesn't that mean I'm already dead?"

She pondered his logic. "They cut off your head first and then hang you. By your toenails."

"Now that's a pleasant thought for eight in the morning."

He crossed the room and sat on the foot of the bed. Rory was still on her knees, leaning back and sitting on her feet.

"So how's the car?"

"Not good. We lost her a few times, but the miracles of modern medicine have worked their wonders."

"So will she be released any time today, or do they have to keep her overnight for observation.?"

Tristan was finding it difficult to keep his eyes from running over her length. She was sitting there in his clothes, yet his simple t-shirt and shorts could not conceal her beauty. Even after just waking up she could do this to him. "They've been working on the radiator for the last hour, and they said we should be good to go in about 20 minutes."

"Well, then I'm going to freshen up a bit." She felt awkward at they way they were dressed. He was sitting in his tux pants and shirt, she in a t-shirt and shorts. However, she wasn't about to change back into that dress. For now, that dress held a special memory, and she didn't want to tarnish it on the ride home.

Tristan watched her make her way to the bathroom, collapsing backward onto the bed as the door shut. He covered his eyes with his hands as memories from last night flooded into his mind.

He had awakened early this morning to Rory in his arms. She was resting peacefully, one hand splayed across his chest. He could remember vividly the feeling of his arm around her, her breath lightly grazing his neck. And he knew that's how he wanted to awaken every morning for the rest of his life. And the thought that he could think about the rest of his life in that way, scared him beyond measure.

He had held her silently in his arms, watching the beauty next to him. But as much as he hated to do so, he had to unwrap their entangled bodies. She wasn't ready for this, and he knew if she awakened in his embrace, her fear would drive her away. He removed himself from her proximity, and after a long cold shower, attended himself to the affairs of the car.

Rory re-entered the room, her dress delicately placed over her arm. Tristan raised himself off the bed, crossing the floor to her. He reached out his hand, intending to relieve her from the duty of carrying the dress. His arm brushed up against hers as he silently took it from her possession. Their eyes locked for a mere moment, before both looked away. Rory wasn't sure what caused her to look away, or more importantly what it was about him that affected her so much.

"Shall we go?"

"I think we've had enough excitement for one night." Her voice was softer than she intended, unaware at the volumes her words spoke.

She followed his lead, exiting through the opened door. Leaving behind the room, but not the memories.

The car ride home was pretty uneventful. Tristan notice how little Rory spoke, and when she did, she made no mention of the previous day. He had tried to bring the topic up a couple of times, but her answers were short and she quickly changed the subject. He wasn't quite sure what her unwillingness meant, but he didn't think meant well for him.

Tristan pulled into her grandparents' driveway, noticing the slight groan she let out. He placed the car in park, and turned to face her.

"What's wrong?"

"See that jeep over there?" She pointed in the direction of the garage. "My mom's here."

"Is that a problem?"

"My grandparents called her. They were probably frantic and called her at 2 in the morning, and she probably raced up here to wait until I got here."

"She's your mother. She has a right to be concerned where you're involved."

"Yeah, but you don't know how much my mother hates being here. She must really be upset if she drove all the way up here on a Sunday morning."

Rory reached for the handle on the door.

"Do you want me to come in and explain?", he offered sincerely.

Rory glance over at him, slightly smiling at his gallant gesture. "I don't think the day after you've had her only daughter holed up in a hotel is the right time to meet my mother."

"Uh right. Some other time then."

Rory smiled at his quick change of heart. She opened the door, stepping out of the car. With one hand on the door, she leaned down, looking back into the car at him.

"I had a really good time last night."

Tristan scoffed at her confession. "Which part? The part where my mother insulted you and publicly humiliated you? Or the part where my car broke down and we had to walk a half a mile to a hotel where you all but accused me of wanting to sleep with you?"

The part where I woke up in your arms, she thought. "We did have a pretty eventful night, didn't we?"

"That we did. Thank you for going with me."

"As much as I doubted I'd be saying this, it was my pleasure," she smiled genuinely.

Tristan briefly looked to the front door. "Well, I think I've kept you long enough. You'd better go let them know that I did bring you home in one piece."

"I'm sure they'll be grateful for that." She made a move to leave the car.

"Don't forget your dress." He reached into the back seat pulling it forward and handed it to her through the open door.

She hesitated, not certain she could accept the pricey gift.

"Take it," he insisted. "It's not my size."

"Thank you, Tristan. See you on Monday." She shut the car door and crossed the driveway.

He waited until she had made it to the porch, replaying the soft way she said his name. He watched her until the point where he would be caught staring, he started his car, and pulled out of the Gilmore driveway.

Rory bounded up the stairs, slowing as she approached the door. Duct taped at eye level was the Sunday morning edition of the Hartford Times. She was certain this was her mother's doing, because she highly doubted either of her grandparents had touched a roll of duct tape in their lives. She approached the door, carefully pulling the newspaper from it's hold. There on the front page was a story about yesterday's wedding. There was one large picture of the bride and groom, surrounded by smaller pictures of some of the guests.

And there in the corner it was. She ran a finger over her image, as she inspected the picture of she and Tristan. They were dancing on the floor, though most of their movement had stopped by that point. They were gazing into each others eyes, and Rory remembered what had almost happened.

Luckily she had been standing off to the side, for at that moment, the door swung open, Lorelai grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the house. She put a finger to her lips signifying that she wanted her silence. With a firm hold on her arm, she practically dragged her up the stairs and to the room that was now Rory's. Once inside she broke the silence.

"Why didn't you tell me Tristan was one step away from Brad Pitt?"

Rory was slightly taken aback by her question. This was not what she had expected. "What? No 'hi, how are you?' or 'thank heavens you're safe'?"

"Don't avoid the question." Lorelai took the paper from Rory's grasp, and crossed the room to sit on the bed. "Please tell me this is Tristan you're dancing with."

"It is."

"And is he as good looking in person as he is in this picture?"

"Mom," she said exasperatedly. "That's a profile shot. You can't tell what he looks like."

"Oh yes I can. Call it mother's intuition. Plus, I know he has to be hot with the way you're staring into his eyes."

"I was not staring into his eyes."

Lorelai gave her a doubting look.

"Ok, so maybe I was."

"Did he kiss you?" Lorelai was acting like a little girl.

"I'm not answering that."

"My 16 year old daughter spends the night in a hotel room with a 16 year old boy and won't tell her grandparents where they are, and I can't ask a simple question. Fine. You don't want to answer that question, I'll move on." She paused for dramatic effect. "Did you use protection?"

"Mother!"

"You have to answer one of my questions, so pick one."

"No, he didn't kiss me."

"Good choice. Did you want him to kiss you?"

Rory approached the bed and flopped down on her stomach. "I don't want to talk about this right now." Her voice was mumbled by her face laying on her arm.

"Rory, honey. Are you alright?" She pushed her hair back, hoping to see her face.

Rory raised her head, staring forward. "Have you ever wanted something so badly even though you know how much you shouldn't want it?"

"Is this about Tristan?"

"Yes...no... I mean, I don't know. I don't know what I mean anymore. Since when did everything have to become so complicated?"

"Since you turned 5 and realized Barbie had career options."

Rory laid her forehead on her arm and sighed.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

A few moments passed, her mother patiently waiting for her to open up.

"It's just that there's Tristan. He spent months making my life miserable, and then a few weeks ago, we sorta became friends. And then last night, he was this charming, romantic guy. And now I don't know what to think."

"Do you want to know what I think?"

"Not if it involves the words 'like' or 'fallen'."

Lorelai was silent confirming her notion.

Rory laid like that a little while longer, Lorelai's silence both consoling and unnerving her. She took a deep breath, gathering up the courage to admit what she was about to say.

She raised her head again. "You know what I think?"

Lorelai turned to look at her daughter, anticipating her confession.

"I think I've fallen for him."

End Part 3