Such Sweet Sorrow

Disclaimer: It must be stated for legal purposes, that I do not, in any way, own the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am simply pirating them for amusement, not profit.

Author*s Note: Thanks to everyone, for the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry about any confusion over the different POV's, that's just the way this one has to be done! I'll try to keep it as simple as possible. This story will be finished in 9 parts at the most, so enjoy and I'll try to have it finished in the next month.





Chapter Four: Sleeping Beauty

"Where have you been, Isabella?" demanded Isabella's cousin, Alice, as Isabella slipped in the front door.

Isabella's head snapped up, startled by her cousin's accusing demeanor. I-I was at work." she lied, hesitantly.

"Liar! Jack saw you! He told me you have allowed the viscount's son, liberties only a husband should be permitted!" Alice shrieked, striding forward and smacking her.

Isabella flew backward at the force of her cousin's anger and gasped fearfully.

Her cousin towered over her, breathing heavily, her features pulled taut by fury. "I won't have a wanton in my house! Jack Tremain has asked permission to marry you, to save your reputation.." Alice continued calmly as Isabella pushed to her feet, shaking her head in denial. "You Will marry him or I will send you away this very day, to a workhouse." she finished sharply.

"No! I cannot marry him, I do not even know him!" Isabella protested horrified.

Her cousin ignored the protest as if it had never been uttered.

"Please-do not do this. I have not done anything! William is my friend." Isabella insisted and drew back instantly as her cousin's expression grew stormy once again.

"William?" she repeated in a horrified whisper. "You call him by his given name?" Alice repeated in a horrified whisper. "A man who is not your relation nor your husband. You call him by his given name?" her hand flew again and cracked loudly against Isabella's cheek.

"Stop..please?" Isabella's head spun at this latest attack and she pleaded weakly, holding up a hand to shield herself.

"It will look better if you tell his lordship's son that you have been promised to another for some time and that you regret deceiving him. You will tell him that you are honoring your vows as he should his." Alice insisted as Isabella lay at her feet. "Heed my words, child, if you do not end this vile association, I will."

With that Alice finally turned, sweeping from the room, confidently and Isabella fell weakly to the cold ground, curled into a ball protectively.,The tears that burned behind her eyes refused to fall, refusing to offer her relief from the pain that stabbed through her body and her heart. Alice was the only real family she had. Her mother's cousin had reluctantly agreed to take her in at her parent's death, five years previously. Isabella tried to please her but Alice was nothing like her cousin, Isabella's mother who had warm and loving. Alice knew only that she had another mouth to feed and her husband barely tolerated his niece's presence. It was the only home she had left, if her cousin sent her away she would have nothing, no one in the world left to care for her. She would be forced out into the world without a shilling or reference to gain employment elsewhere, and nowhere to live. Finally, she uncurled her stiffened body and pulled herself to her feet.

Slowly she made her way upstairs wincing at the aches, as her body screamed at her. Once safely locked behind her bedroom door, she painfully assessed her sore body, inadvertently spotting William's home in the distant reflection of the tiny mirror.

"Oh William..what am I to do?" she whispered, quietly.

The Manor

William flung threw himself onto his bed, grinning like a madman, up at the ceiling.

Isabella was slowly coming to accept this thing this connection between them. He had made considerable progress since that first kiss, a month ago, and now he finally felt close to winning her heart.

She had become his ray of sunlight in the vast darkness his world was rapidly becoming.

His parent's urged him to go to London, to 'enjoy the spoils of youth' before his marriage to the ever biddable Rachael. He snorted in contempt.

The battles with them were beginning to strain his happiness with Isabella until only the knowledge that she would soon relent from her stubborn insistence and accept his offer of marriage kept him from screaming the truth at them.

The knock at the door, brought him off the bed, the smile wiped away instantly.

It was not Isabella. He had seen her home, well, almost home, nearly a half hour ago and his little Bella was much too circumspect to visit him in his rooms.

He swung open the door, startling the young maid standing there. He smiled, and leaned against the frame. "Yes?" he inquired silkily.

"Uh-oh Uh-oh." she started to back away, than froze.. "My Lord!" she blurted out, "Your parents wish to speak to you, horrified by her breach of protocol.

"It's alright-" he searched his mind for a name, trying to put her at ease but her eyes grew wider and he simply nodded.

She backed away like a scared rabbit facing a wolf and he repressed the laugh that threatened to overcome him.

He knew he shouldn't tease the household staff, as Isabella wouldn't like it and having fallen for her he was all to aware of the cruelty staff endured. Especially the attractive young girls like Isabella. These were girls he had also misused, once upon a time, although no longer.

His good mood evaporated and he felt his body tensing. His parents. Again. He was going to have to warn them to easy their interference.

William left his room and began the trek downstairs into one of his parent's many parlors.

The house was silent, as always when one of these scenes was staged. Inevitably, the staff hid to avoid their master's wrath once the shouting began.

"You asked to see me?" he asked, entering the Blue Parlor and striding to one of the chairs. This visit, much like the one of the day they informed him of his pending marriage, they sat together, forming a solid force against him.

Not this time! He thought sardonically. He might have lost that battle but this time he had a secret weapon, his love for Bella, and nothing could touch .

"William. We are very disappointed in you,." his father said, without a trace of emotion in his voice.

William glanced away fighting the urge to grin and lift a brow as if to say, "so?"

"Your mother and I asked you to take yourself off to London to dally until the wedding. You should not risk an association with the locals mere months before the wedding."lectured his father, his voice deep and without care as usual.

"And really, dear, she is quite indiscreet,."his mother broke in you. and sighed.. "Another maid, William? I swear, it is your life's work to see me clean my own home."

"Wh-What?" .sputtered William, attempting to feign ignorance.

"This..Elisabeth or whichever, the one with whom you've been carrying on. Son, I do realize your a young man but you must break it off. It is simply too close to the wedding and if Rachael's father were to hear of it he would take it as a personal affront. Just tell this-maid of yours that your honoring your promises elsewhere and give her a little jewel or something of the like, to ensure her silence."his father walked over to William's chair, placing a hand on the armrest to tower over him. He expected William to look up with the petulant expression he always wore when he was being denied something but when William's head rose, is eyes were ice cold.

"Her name is not Elizabeth and I am not dallying before the wedding with yet another maid .Rachael will never be my wife. Ever. If her father does not approve he may have my permission to launch himself bottom over barrel into the Thymes!" William's voice shook with repressed violence as he slowly rose to his feet. "I am not going to stop seeing her and if you continue to interfere in My life I will go to Rachael's father and tell him everything, myself."

His mother gasped in shock at her son's anger but his father merely raised an eyebrow at his son's outburst, studying him intently

"You obviously care for this girl, this maid you see." remarked the older man thoughtfully. His father was never an effusive man, whatever warmth he felt it was rarely seen by his family but he was never more dangerous than when he was coldly eyeing a person as a problem to be solved.

A frisson of fear ran through him as he silently watched his father's pensive expression.

"She must live nearby, with her family? Perhaps even on our land? They probably depend on her wages, on our goodwill." his father added, his voice soft as if he were simply stating observations and not uttering threats.

William froze."What are you saying?"" he rasped quietly. He wanted to demand his father stop. Wanted to insist he never threaten Isabella or her family but fear was choking him.

"I have no desire to harm good people simply because I have a wayward son, who will not listen to reason,." His father replied easily, walking back to his seat beside his prim wife.

William turned to look toward the window, sitting down once more, his knees suddenly failing him. He saw the beginning of the garden beyond the Manor house, where he had met Isabella and heard his father's threats echoing in his mind.

Feverishly he searched for some way out of the noose they'd tightened around his neck.

There was none.

He felt desperation grip his heart and pushed it aside quickly, burying it and the fear that drove it, deep within himself before he turned to face his parents.

They were watching him with a fixated gaze that made him think of cobras watching their prey, daring it to run, all the while knowing they would strike regardless.

"You win." he answered flatly, at last standing once more.." He saw his mother smile happily and felt the lock on his emotions rattle precariously. "I will do as you ask, but know this; I will never forgive you for doing this. I give you my word of honor on that."

"William, your you are being foolish!" his mother cried, reaching toward him.

He ignored her hand and his father's angry gaze, turning heel to leave them.

"You will marry Rachael?" his father persisted.

William paused, not turning to look at them again. "I will, but she will only gain my name. Our marriage bed will be as cold and barren as this house. There will be no heir to carry on this farce of a family. Explain that to her father."

"You'll regret saying these things,."his father shouted angrily.

"Darling it will be a splendid match! Wait until you see her, she's truly lovely." his mother protested,

"You will regret far more than I. This will be the perfect match alright.! A match made in hell." William spat as he walked out

******************************************************

Tristan was waiting by Rory's locker again as she approached, This time he sat beneath the steel cube, his head leaning back against the cold metal, his eyes screwed shut.

"Tristan?" she called out wearily stopping beside his bent frame.

He eyes blinked open and she could see they were slightly red, dark circles beneath them, a familiar look since her own eyes had reflected back a similar sight in this morning's mirror.

"You look as bad as I feel." he mutter, uncurling slowly and shoving himself to his feet.

"Thanks." she answered drily, reaching past him to the lock.

Tristan waited patiently until she had spun the dial to enter the combination and futilely attempted to yank the metal door open. He let her try twice before finally pulling her hand away and punching the locker as he had the day before. Once again the metal obediently shuddered and popped open. She rolled her eyes at him as he gestured to the open locker with a half-hearted smirk.

"Did you dream last night?"" she asked as she put her pack inside the locker, pulling out the binder and textbook for her first class.

"Yeah." he answered quietly. "I don't remember it very clearly except.." he paused and she looked up at him, her own eyes haunted.

"Something really bad happened." she finished, nodding slowly, her hair falling in her face.

Tristan nodded "I don't even remember what it was, exactly, but I wanted to kill someone when I woke up this morning and than.."he looked away.

"I wanted to cry. Almost did except my Mom would have freaked. No way would she let me come to school if I was hysterical over some dream." Rory admitted with a small shrug. "Even if I had mid-terms."

"I felt-that way too, I just haven't done it in a long time." he told her quietly with a self-deprecating smile.

Tristan looked away uncomfortably. "What about now? You feel half as exhausted as I look?"

Rory looked him over, noting the lack of coordination to his usual sexily rumbled bed head hairdo. As if, instead of styling it to look that way, he had simply woken with it like that and hadn't bothered to fix it. His tie was looser than usual, barely tied and she knew his first period teacher would call him on it, but despite the exhaustion that fairly radiated from him he still maintained his King of Chilton air effectively.

"You don't look half as awful as I feel,." she accused, pointing at him.

He slowly smiled at her, mock-seductively. "I just have more practice at looking smugly exhausted instead of just over-tired. There's a difference."

Rory rolled her eyes at him again, watching as people started coming down the hallways.

"Thanks again for that nightmarish information. Really Tristan I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you around to fill my shudder quotient of the day."

"I could make you shudder for much better- what are you doing?" he asked as she abruptly shoved her books back in the locker and reached for his tie.

"Strangling you with your own tie, what does it look like I'm doing?" she retorted, pushing aside the hand he raise to ward her off. Rory stepped closer, cocking her head sideways to study him as she pulled on the ends, until the knot slowly slithered upward

Tristan lifted his chin, giving Rory room to move the tie without threatening his breathing space and smiled at her attempts at civilizing him.

.

"Not too tight." he warned lightly. He glanced down with his eyes and caught Rory shooting him an exasperated glare. He chuckled at her disgruntled look but allowed her to continue, as she pulled the tie up to his shirt collar, she left the top button undone leaving him some breathing room and smoothed the collar into place. She stepped back and he lowered his chin again.

"Am I done? Should I un-tuck my shirt so you can tuck it to regulation standards?" he asked smoothly, making her glare at him in annoyance.

"Your such a creep, Tristan. I was only trying to do you a favor and not that kind of favor. You know, Jenkins would have had a freaked if he saw you like that." She waved a hand at him and he grabbed it.

He held the hand as she tried to yank it back until she turned to face him again. "I know. I was going to fix it before class." he told her, he saw her cheeks flush with embarrassment and sighed. "Thank you for doing it for me. Believe it or not I hate these things, tying them myself is sorta like tying my own noose so I really liked not having to do it. Really, Rory." he told her sincerely, she pulled her hand away and nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Your welcome." she muttered quickly, reaching for her books again.

"It meant the world..to me." he sniffed dramatically. "I don't think I'll ever forget it-"he sniffed again loudly and she rolled her eyes at him as she closed her locker."Actually, I kinda thought you were going to drag me down the hall like a Tristan leash or something." he laughed at her scrunched up expression.

"Well you might be a sick puppy but I'm not claiming ownership." she reminded him lightly, smiling.

Silence shimmered between them as both of them thought about what she had just said. Tristan looked away, starring intently down the hallway while Rory felt her conscience pinch her.

, Stupid, why did you have to say that? she thought, chiding herself. But then again, it's just Tristan, and why am I overreacting to this?. Another voice sneered. A voice that sounded remarkably like her mother's evil voice. Oh I've finally lost it. I have my Mother's voice in my HEAD! Rory groaned.

Tristan heard Rory groan and watched her drop her head forward, smacking it against the locker she had closed.

"Hey!" he darted forward and grabbed her shoulders."You okay?" he demanded.

"I'm fine. I just realized how crazy I am,"Rory told him wearily.

"You're not crazy, your probably over-tired and bordering on serious sleep deprivation. Or non-dream sleep deprivation,." Tristan comforted as he rubbed his thumb softly over the red spot where she hit the locker.

"Umm.Yeah," she sighed, "Tired." Rory told him leaning against the cool metal of the lockers in the sparsely populated hallway. Tristan sighed, and ran his left hand through the strands of Rory's hair. Rory's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. He turned back around to look at her and realized where his hand was, dropping it quickly as if it burned him.

"Sorry. I'm exhausted." he muttered, wordlessly turning toward class, shaking his head at himself.

Rory quickly spun the dial to lock her locker shut and moved to follow him, she hesitated a moment, wondering why she was rushing to catch up to him when he suddenly stopped and glanced back at her.

.He waited for her to reach his side patiently, it didn't matter to him if they were late to class, if she wanted to spend the rest of the day here in the middle of the hallway that would be fine with him too but he knew she would insist that they couldn't miss class. Exhaustion was hardly a good enough reason for her to skip a single precious second of the mind-numbing Chilton experience. He shook his head at her innocence while ruefully admitting to himself that he liked Rory the way she was.

"Maybe we didn't dream because it was the still early, close to the afternoon?" Rory suggested when she caught up with him.

. He shook his head.

"Tried that one already."

"Me too actually. I don't get it, were we finally too tired to dream? I feel ten times worse today than yesterday morning. Was it something we ate? Did Gretchen give us a dreamless sleep drug or magical food product?" Rory demanded quietly, wary of the other student's wandering the hallways, chatting with each other, applying make-up and stashing books in their lockers.

"I doubt it. She would have mentioned it to me by now. She's been kinda worried about the dreams, we've been having,."" he admitted, shrugging.

Rory glanced ahead and saw her classroom door a couple feet away, people already filing in and stopped, grabbing hold of Tristan's blazer. "This is me. Maybe we both have psychological disorders?" Rory suggest brightly as Tristan paused beside her. " I'm a total schizo, and you're manic-depressive. And it would explain a lot of things about you," she added, teasingly.

"Har, Har. Rory, I don't really think that's better than a magical food product."

"Hey, just trying to help. So, can you think of any reason we wouldn't have dreamed? A non-crazy idea I mean?" Rory stared at him expectantly and he sighed.

"I don't know, Rory." he shook his head. "We were together." he suggested.

Rory stared at him, in surprise. "That can't be it. Just because we slept.." she glanced around noticing several interested stares and lowered her voice. "Because we slept next to each other? It's weird and..kinda cheesy. It doesn't work when my Mom sleeps beside me."

"I don't know Rory. I don't understand this any better than you do. It's the only thing I can think of. I've got to go, the bells gonna ring and you need to get in there." Tristan warned, nodding toward her classroom door. The hallway was slowly emptying and he knew they only had a few moments before they would both get in trouble.

"I know, sorry. I don't want to make you late. You should go." she told him, letting go of his blazer before she even realized she was still holding onto it.

"Look, why couldn't it be that we were together. We're having the same dreams, how normal is that? There's gotta be some kind of connection. We'll just try it again. Tonight, my place after school?" he started backing away.

"Ah well, I'll have to call my mom," Rory acceded suddenly.

"Deal. I'll meet you later." he told her quickly, setting her in the open doorway.

"Are you joining us Miss Gilmore?" Ms. Lewis inquired drily from inside. Several students were straining to watch the two sworn enemies talking by the open door.

"How about we hit Starbucks first?" Tristan asked walking backwards away from the bewildered girl, grinning, obviously knowing that she wouldn't say no, boyfriend or not.

"Coffee?!" Rory questioned immediately, she heard him laugh as she turned to enter the classroom and realized Tristan had used her weakness against her to get his own way. Damn! Note to self: Do not give in to Tristan just because he says the magic word! She ignored the looks of her classmates that ranged from curiosity, petty jealousy, leering and from Paris an obvious and seething glare.

After School, Tristan's House

The two of them had been greeted warmly by Gretchen as soon as they walked into the kitchen looking for a quick snack. She handed them both a handful of chocolate cookies and told them she would start on dinner shortly.

Rory shot Tristan a worried look, which he correctly interpreted to mean she was afraid Gretchen would see the two of them sleeping together in the sense that was Not and nodded to let her know he got it.

"It's okay, Gretchen, these'll be fine for a while. We have a really important project to work on so I don't want to be disturbed for any reason. We'll come down to dinner as soon as we get hungry,." he told her easily. He saw Gretchen's eyes flash, she darted a quick look toward Rory and he knew she was wondering if Rory was going upstairs to his bedroom for more than homework. Since he couldn't tell her the truth he bit back the angry protest that formed.

" You go ahead than, I'll make something that'll keep and stick it in the fridge." Gretchen answered, finally.

He nodded and gestured for Rory to proceed him and moved to follow her. Just as he reached the door he felt a hand snag his collar and drag him up short. "Go ahead, Rory I'll be right there,." he called out.

"You better not do anything with that girl that I wouldn't skin you alive for doing. You said she's a good girl, and she better stay that way !" Gretchen threatened.

He shrugged loose of her hold and turned to look at her. "I'm not going to do anything to her." He felt a little anger that she had even suggested it. "All of a sudden I'm what? The devil? I am the seducer of innocents, Gretchen? Rory makes her own choices so butt out."

"You listen to me, Mr. No-girl-can-resist-me Dugrey. I know she's something special but something more than homework's going on up there and don't think your fooling me none." Gretchen crossed her arms and stared at him intently.

Tristan felt his anger slipping away, washed aside by the wave of cold numbness that he was so damnably used to. When he looked back up at her his eyes were cool, remote, mocking. "I think your forgetting a couple things Gretchen. If I want the little Mary I can take her anywhere, I have my Gold card in my wallet, if I wanted I could sweep her away to a five-star presidential suite in a New York chain hotel." he laughed, bitterly "I could even have the honeymoon suite. Rory is the only one who gets to make a choice." he paused a moment. He saw Gretchen draw back, hurt by his words, and regretted that he couldn't seem to find the place inside of himself that could feel ashamed. Instead he continued grimly. "You don't have to worry, my little Mary isn't a fool she knows better than to let this devil anywhere near her. Right now I'm the means to an end, when she doesn't need me anymore she'll wipe her dainty little feet on me and walk away, her head up proud. Every bit the innocent little Mary she walked into Chilton as."

"Tristan...I just thought....I know you think she can bring some light into your life, I don't want you-" Gretchen protested.

"Dragging her into Hell with me instead?" he finished calmly. "Don't worry, I already told you. She know's I'm the bad guy and like all good bad guys I may stalk the beautiful innocent but in the end I know I'll go back to my dark little cell while her and her hero ride off. Now, if there's nothing else, I have to go put on the scene where I lead the trusting little lamb into my lair with false good intentions." Tristan sneered at her and walked out.

Gretchen sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Her chest hurt where her heart had taken several direct hits from Tristan's icy words.

She knew it was his way, lashing out when someone hurt him, drawing the cold into him until he was numb to any hurt. The battle between the two of them seemed to be easing but the battle inside himself was tearing at him. The boy she fought for, wanted so badly, to find some peace, to find some place where he didn't have to be Tristan Dugrey; heir to the fortunes, company, expectations. Tristan, the boy, just wanted this girl to like him, to give him the chance to prove he could be someone else, someone she could like. The other half of him, the side his parents 'groomed' was frozen, uncaring, he wanted Rory only because he couldn't have her and if she slipped even once he would use her and contemptuously toss her aside because by then the boy would have lost the will to fight. Gretchen got up from her chair quietly, and took a quick glance towards the stairs. She mentally prayed that Tristan would be the boy she knew.

Tristan opened the bedroom door, quietly, slipping inside. He saw Rory leaning over his computer

"Everything okay?." he asked, shutting the door tight behind him and unobtrusively turning the lock.

"Oh! Tristan! You scared me. Sorry, um, I was just checking my email, you mind?" she gestured to the computer.

He shrugged."Help yourself. What's mine is yours for the taking,."he answered, with a smirk. He saw her brow knit together unhappily.

"Is something wrong?" she asked finally, turning to face him completely.

He ignore her question as he dumped his pack on one of the chairs and headed for his closet.

"I'm going to get more comfortable, would you like me to find something for you to change into?" he asked politely.

"No, thanks, Okay, Tristan, stop for just a second. Your talking like your a Stepford Wife or something. What just happened downstairs that I don't know about?"" Rory repeated following him.

He opened the closet doors and flicked through the hangers. He grabbed a soft Navy T-shirt and grey jogging pants for himself before snagging a white T-shirt for

Rory followed him to the closet door.

He turned to look at her and held up the shirt. "How's this? I think I have a pair of draw-string pajama bottoms around her someplace an aunt bought me one year, they might fit. You sure don't want anything to change into, if we're going to be sleeping?"

"Hey stop." Rory said, moving closer to stand directly in front of him. "Did Gretchen say something? Is she mad about dinner or..I could tell her I'm making you work without food until we finish this project Rory said, moving closer to stand directly in front of him. "Cause your acting all..weird." she shrugged helplessly and he felt the ice crack

"It's nothing. She just thinks I'm leading you to your doom. Come up to see my etchings, welcome to my parlor, want some candy little girl." he recited softly.

"She probably just wants to protect you, I come off as crazy sometimes. People are afraid of me. Actually, they're afraid of my mom, so I just get tucked into that crazy package. No really, my mom and I have this whole reputation going in Stars Hollow. The Insane Gilmore Girls. Kids are afraid to trick or treat at my house, they run away, crying. " Rory told him earnestly and despite himself he felt himself smile.

"Cut it out." he told her, trying to hold onto his numbness.

"No, why should I? It took you a month to learn my name and that's only an alias I gave you because I was afraid the asylum people would catch on. I shouldn't even be telling you all these things, if my mom asks, you don't know anything.? And if you did know anything, you couldn't tell anyone because you have laryngitis and she doesn't have to worry because you also have an extreme case of amnesia." Rory answered quickly "Whew! I'm glad we got that covered. Remember, you didn't hear that from me," Rory warned. "So you've got laryngitis, or amnesia, and you don't even know me."

Tristan laughed, suddenly at her antics and felt the icy calm melt.

"I don't know, Mary, I'm starting to wonder if your telling truth. You are possibly the only girl ever have resisted my endless charms," he told her, giving her a sideways look.

"You've got Dugrey charm? Can you let me know when it comes up again? I think I might have missed it." Rory mocked.

"Oh, a direct hit.Ouch. I'm wounded! Stab me in the heart, why don't you?" Tristan answered dramatically. He fell backward onto the bed and lay unmoving.

"Okay, heartbreak kid. I can still check my email, right?" Rory told him.

"No," he teased. "That was only for those five minutes, so now it's wasted." Tristan grabbed his change of clothes, and gestured toward the bathroom.

"Thanks. I might have my mom's jogging pants somewhere in my backpack. So I'll change whenever your through."

"Kay. I'll be in there, if you need me, to you know, be your willing slave," he grinned, and walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock.

Rory eyed the door speculatively before opening up her backpack and finding the jogging pants. She tugged off her shoes and tights, quickly slipping into the comfy pants, silently thanking her mother for putting those in there in case she got cold on the bus. Rory pulled her Chilton blazer and light blue shirt off and quickly yanked Tristan's T-shirt over her head.

She folded all her clothes together carefully, and slipped them into her backpack. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was 6:48 PM. Rory went to the end of Tristan's rooms, pulling down the thick blinds, cloaking the room in darkness. It left only enough light to lead a path to his large bed.

Rory climbed into it, pulling the covers over herself and pushing pillows into the middle of the mattress, silently thanking the maker of large beds. She wasn't going to make any mistakes tonight.

********************************************************

He felt something hot warming his ear.

He reached up to brush it away and encountered warm flesh.

His sleep-filled mind remained blank as he touched the soft skin gently. His mind cleared as he suddenly realized it was a girl's skin. Very good, Tristan, his brain mocked fuzzily.

His arm was pinned beneath someone and he felt the pins and needles as he experimentally tried to wiggle his fingers.

Something silky brushed the tips of his other hand, and a moment later his brain formed the image of long brown hair, big blue eyes, warm skin. Rory?

At least, he hoped it was.

He dragged his eyes open, blinking away the grittiness of sleep and glanced down. Rory was curled along side him. Her head was resting on a pillow directly on his right side, the rest of her body barely touching him. She was close enough for him to feel her radiating warmth, but not close enough to be pressed against him.

In his sleep he had draped an arm over her, holding her close by. One of legs was laying across his, pinning him in place and Tristan felt a smug smile creep across his face. In her sleep you just can't keep her hands-er-legs off me. Nice. Hell that's beyond nice..

Slowly he shifted, turning onto his side to face her, without dislodging the leg she had slung over him.

.

It had worked, because Rory simply slept, that hair all over the place and those eyelashes streaking her upper cheeks with velvety blackness, and that person not unintentionally accidentally oops pressed against him. She frowned unhappily, huffing indignantly in her sleep as her head lower as he pulled his arm out from beneath her. Tristan waited cautiously, prepared to turn over on his back in case she woke up. Satisfied that she wouldn't stir he settled in to watch her sleep.

He didn't know what it was about her that drew him. He was completely baffled as to why he felt the need to look at her, all the time. She was pretty, for a Mary, but not the type of overblown beauty that usually appealed to him. She was too smart, for one, he frowned. . She wouldn't laugh at his jokes, or pander to his ego in any sort of way. This girl blithely ignored him or repeatedly shot him down, challenging him to change but in the indifferent way that could hurt him the most. He really didn't know why he wasted his time, except....Something about her drew his gaze even when he swore he wouldn't watch her, wouldn't care.He looked for her in the hallways, caught glimpses of her at lunch, hung out by the car until he saw her board the bus to Stars Hollow. Now she was in his dreams, and in his bed, and still farther away than he would ever wish her to be.

He snorted ruefully and reached out, tracing the side of her face with his fingertips.

She sighed in her sleep, turning her head slightly into his touch. He felt a clenching in his stomach that became a knowing ache. He wanted to kiss her. Just once. He wanted to shove his lips upon her and make her love him, make her feel what he felt. And then he wanted to kiss her eyelids and whisper incredibly stupid things into her ear about love and flowers and poetry. He promised silently. One touch. One Kiss. If she were awake she would probably shove him off the bed, she was always rejecting him.

With the sudden thought, Tristan stilled his stroking hand and felt bitterness stir inside him and hardened his heart. Rory might reject him when she was awake, but what about when she was sleeping?

He leaned closer, slowly, careful not to disturb her until his lips touched hers. Tristan closed his eyes, savoring the softness of her skin. It was too much to even keep them open, because his heart was aching and his hormones were raging and his mind was blissfully void of all the reasons he knew so well why he shouldn't. He opened his mouth to taste her and feeling a shudder of heat and hunger lick through him.

Rory came to consciousness a few seconds later, something warm and wet on her lips. Something was touching her lips. Rory opened her eyes with a flutter and saw Tristan leaning over her. His eyes were closed shut and suddenly she recognized the pressure against her lips, the moist touch, the oddly thrilling something. She felt his lips touch hers again .and her eyes closed automatically.

Stop it! Stop him! Come on, Rory stop him! Her brain flashed but a split second later another voice whispered inside her. Just Once??

She ruthlessly told the first voice to shut the Hell up and gave in to the fire that was beginning to flame inside her. . I just want to know what all those other girls see in him. I just want to feel whatever it is he makes them feel so they keep wanting him even when he's breaking their hearts. Rory opened her mouth, tilting her head up to meet his kisses.

Tristan felt Rory move beneath him and his brain screamed at him wanting so badly to get off the bed and be good but so badly wanting to be hers. He felt her mouth open, pressing against his and he pressed back into her.

The ache was beginning to spread, burning through him and making his mind a pile of ashes. He couldn't remember why it was a bad idea, why he shouldn't be kissing Rory, holding Rory like this when she was finally there, finally kissing him back. Tristan kissed her fiercely. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, couldn't stop; he could only touch her hair, cup her face and finally slip a hand beneath the oversize T-shirt to caress the silky skin beneath. Her skin was so warm that it burned his hand, promising more than intellectual banter. Rory's skin was hot to the touch and he groaned against her mouth, his hand slipping upward.

Rory felt his hand slide under her shirt, gently touching the skin along her mid-drift and felt her brain's neon light flip on, flashing DANGER! DANGER! At her. She ignored it until his hand slipped higher, and then broke apart from his lips, roughly, suddenly aware of how stupid she was being. She started to pull away but Tristan kissed along her jaw mumbling at her.

"Tristan stop." she told him breathlessly, pressing against his shoulders. He ignored her quiet voice, raising up to kiss her mouth again, his hand touching the underside of her bra and she panicked.

"Tristan, Stop it!" she shouted, shoving him hard in her panic.

Tristan felt Rory shove at his shoulders and his fevered brain protested. No, not yet! Not yet, damn it! He leaned up to kiss her mouth, hoping to drag her back into the fire that was burning him, and felt Rory shove him harder away from her, shouting at him. He lost his balance, slipping off the side of the bed and smacking the back of his head against the corner of the dresser.

"Damn it, Rory!" Tristan shouted, rubbing his throbbing head.

Rory hopped off the bed and headed for the bathroom. "Damn you, Tristan,! You promised!" she grabbed her backpack, stalking away from him as he called out to her.

"Rory. Rory wait! I didn't mean it! Shit! I didn't even know what I was doing!" he shouted after her in frustration.

Rory turned back, starring at him, confusion and hurt warring across her lovely features. "Just take me home." she told him finally.

***************************************************************

He drove her home in silence, glancing toward her frequently but she simply stared out her window, ignoring his presence.

Tristan frowned, trying to think of something to say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, even though he wasn't. Couldn't be. Those few moments with Rory, holding her, kissing her were the most vivid moments he'd ever experienced. He had felt more with Rory's kiss than he had felt even while messing around with other girls. It made him angry to think she hadn't felt it, hadn't known what he was feeling.

He'd known who he was holding as soon as his brain had slid from sleep into consciousness. He'd known whom he was kissing, who was returning his kisses. And who was probably more asleep than awake and dreaming of her boyfriend! He berated silently as he pulled in front of her house, and that knowledge ate at him.

Rory was slipping from the car even as he shoved the gearshift into park and cut the engine.

"Rory wait! Just wait a sec, I'm sorry. Come on." Tristan called, jumping out of the car to face her over the rooftop.

She turned to face him. "I've gotta go. My mom'll be home soon,." she answered flatly, turning her back and heading inside. Tristan swore fluently.

He flung himself into his seat and roared off.

Rory dropped her bag onto the floor next to the coat rack.

"Mom?" she called out, hoping she was right about Lorelei still being at work.

When the house remained silent she heaved a grateful sigh and ran to her room to change.

As she was pulling on her jeans, the phone rang and she glanced at it warily.

"Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Dean?"

"You are home. I was getting worried,." Dean answered easily. She heard the smile in his voice and felt a wave of guilt hit her.

"Uh, yeah. I was just-reading. You know how I get when I read. The house could be on fire and I'd still be reading,." she cringed as the lie crossed her lips. The same lips that had just kissed Tristan. The same Tristan who had thought he was kissing someone else, or didn't care who he was kissing at all, she reflected darkly.

"Rory, you still there?" Dean's voice drew her back.

"What? Yeah, I'm here." she frowned. "Listen, Dean, I've gotta go, okay?. I still have to check to make sure the house is on fire and all. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay." he answered slowly. "Are you sure your alright? Want me to come over?"

"No! I mean, no. Everything's hunky doory. What does that even mean, anyway? Hunky Doory it's a really stupid expression. Never mind, I really have to go, I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later. Bye." she said nervously, slamming the phone down on the receiver quickly.

Absurdly, her mind insisted Dean would call right back and know instinctively that she'd been unfaithful.

"Oh my God. I kissed Tristan. What do I do? I should tell Dean. I'll phone him back and just say, 'Dean I kissed Tristan but it's over and it didn't mean anything' Did it? No! I can't tell him, he'll kill Tristan. Arg!" she paced the length of her room before flopping onto the bed with a groan." "Great now your really losing it. It's not like it matters. You kissed Tristan Dugrey. So what? I bet every other girl at Chilton has kissed him before, it's practically a tradition. Way to be an individual, Rory." she frowned again before realizing how angry she was getting at that line of thought. She grabbed the pillow next to her to hold over her face as she screamed.



-