A.N: Yes, I'm back! Thank you for your patience. This one is for the FF Trories who 'reminded' and urged me to update. Without them, this would still be sitting unfinished in my computer. I hope that this is (somewhat) worth the wait. :-)
* * * * *
It Had To Be You
by inmyeyes
13: Time of My Life
She was running late and she still hadn't decided what to wear. With her ratty bathrobe and her make-up half-done, Rory sat at the edge of her bed, telling herself to calm down. Glancing at the clock above her dressing table, she saw that she actually still had another half an hour before Tristan would come a-knocking on her door.
She took a deep breath then stood up in front of her full-length mirror with outfit number one which was a black sheath dress that skimmed her figure and stopped just below her knees. After a minute of contemplation, she pursued her lips and picked up her other choice- a wine red dress which was a little more risqué.
Before she could make up her mind (or contemplate some more), the phone started to ring. For once, she knew exactly where it was. Reaching for it on her bedside table, she said hurriedly, "Say whatever you wanna say and say it fast."
"Is that any way to talk to your mother, young lady?" Lorelai said sternly. But she ruined the effect by laughing a few seconds later.
Rory had to smile. "Where did that come from?"
"Sorry," Lorelai said apologetically, "I was channeling Emily Gilmore. I've decided that I'll be her during Halloween. That'd be suitably scary, don't you think?"
"Mom, Halloween isn't for another year," Rory pointed out.
"Minor detail. I like to be prepared anyway… and being Emily would definitely need practice."
"Time is ticking away here… did you have an actual reason for calling?"
Lorelai gasped melodramatically. "Ingrate! Can't I speak to my favourite daughter without a legitimate reason?"
"I'm your only daughter."
"My, you're sharp today, picking up all the details."
"Maybe I should have just stayed angry at you."
There was another gasp from Lorelai. "You're mean too."
"Well, I'm gonna get even meaner and hang up if you don't tell me why you called," Rory threatened, but she was smiling the whole time.
"Fine then," Lorelai huffed. "I bring a message from your esteemed grandmother who requests your presence at their Christmas party on the 26th."
"You quoted that verbatim, didn't you?"
"She made me write it down," Lorelai sighed. "The things I do for my mother."
"Well…"
"Oh," Lorelai added, "she also said that you should bring your lovely young man with you."
"My lovely young man?" Rory repeated, amused.
"Like I told you, kid, they're already planning the wedding reception."
"Well, tell grandma that I'll be there with my lovely young man, if he agrees to go with me."
"You go to that party with him and I assure you that they'll be deciding what to name your children," Lorelai warned.
Rory's ignored her mother's rambling. "Is that all? I really have to go, Mom."
"Why?" Lorelai asked, but a moment later she answered her own question. "You're going out with lover-boy."
"I have that office Christmas party to go to… and now," she looked at the clock, "I only have twenty minutes to get ready."
Lorelai grinned. "Have a good time with lover-boy, I'll see you in a few days."
"Yeah, I will."
Once she got her mother off the phone, Rory sat down on her bed again. Talking to Lorelai was often a tiring experience, but she couldn't be happier that things were getting better.
The morning after she accompanied Tristan to Hartford to see Natalie, she dropped by Stars Hollow. When Tristan shared with her the details of his family-life, she remembered how great Lorelai had always been and how much love and support she had been given throughout her life. She realized that she didn't want to lose the wonderful relationship they had and that she had to try and save it before it inevitably crumbled.
So, when she went to see Lorelai, she was finally truly willing to put the past behind her. That day, a big step had been taken to rebuild their bond to what it had been before. Ever since, they had been keeping in close contact and Rory felt happier that things were back to what they should be.
She was almost sure that she was going to wear the black dress when her phone rang again. Sighing, she decided to let the machine pick up and continued with her make-up. The sound of Samantha's chirpy voice filling the apartment nearly made her poke herself in the eye with the mascara wand.
"Ro-ry!" Samantha sing-songed. "I know you're there. Pick up the phone."
Rory rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone. "What do you want, Sam? I'm getting dressed, I have no time to talk to you."
"I'm just doing friend duty," Sam said, innocently. "I wanted to make sure that you won't back out with a convenient excuse."
"I'm surprised that you didn't insist on picking me up and dragging me to the Marriott," Rory said dryly.
"It crossed my mind, but since you're on a date," Sam emphasized with relish, "I didn't want to be the third wheel."
"You called just to make sure that Tristan was coming, didn't you?"
"Hey!" Sam protested. "You can't blame me for wanting to meet your gorgeous beau."
"He's not mine, Sam."
"I'll judge for myself, thank you." Sam quickly changed the subject before Rory could say anything. "And if I may make a suggestion, you should wear your tarty red dress."
"Wow, with a recommendation like that, I'll be sure not to wear that dress," Rory countered.
"Rory, darling," Sam adopted a faux British accent, "I meant tarty, in the nicest possible way. You'll look so good in that dress that every woman in the room will hate you." Her voice turned serious. "Seriously, Ror… live a little. Wear that dress and walk in with a handsome man on your arm."
Rory stared at the dress lying on the bed and cursed the fact that she could be so easily persuaded. "The whole 'tarty-in-the-nicest-possible-way' thing better be true or this friendship is over."
Sam went back to her British accent. "Don't worry, darling, you'll look so fabulous that even I'll be tempted to be catty to you."
"Well, I need to get my tarty self ready so I can knock everyone's socks off."
"Don't be late."
When she finally managed to convince Samantha that she would there, on time, with Tristan, wearing her red dress, Sam finally relented. With a shake of her head, Rory hit the 'off' button on the phone and threw it on her bed.
For a second, she thought about 'defying' Sam and going with the black dress but some bold part of her that was sick of being ignored encouraged her to be daring for once. With a prayer that she wouldn't look completely ridiculous, she yanked the red dress off the hanger.
Red was the colour of the Christmas season anyway, she reasoned.
* * * * *
As they waited for the elevator to take them to the party venue on the third floor, Tristan cast another look at Rory, unable to keep his eyes away because she looked so beautiful. Okay, he admitted to himself that he was actually staring at her shapely legs which looked a mile long in her dress.
He resisted the urge to whistle as his eyes moved up her body, taking in her entire form. That red dress was really something, he thought, as he tried to hold back an appreciative smile. Unfortunately, Rory chose that exact moment to turn back and look at him.
"Tristan, are you okay?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm as she peered at him.
He let his smile widen. "Oh believe me, I'm perfectly fine." His eyes ran over her again. "And, I must say… you look fine."
Rory rolled her eyes, but she knew she couldn't hide her blush. "You'll look twice at anything in a short skirt," she quipped.
"But since you're special," he smile roguishly, "I've had to look more than twice."
"Oh," Rory put a hand on her chest and sighed dramatically, "such flattery."
Tristan waved his hand dismissively. "That was child's play. You want flattery?" He arched his brow, and then proceeded to lean closer to her, almost trapping her against the closed elevator doors. When he spoke, his voice was low and intimate, "Flattery would be me saying that you're so beautiful that you take my breath away."
Her heart was pounding and his nearness made her feel dizzy but she hid her response to him well. Snorting, she said dryly, "That sounds more like a cliché than flattery."
He saw the challenge in her eyes. Oh, this was too much fun. It was frustrating, but fun. He inched closer until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "You make me forget the rest of the world exists. When I look into your eyes, it's just you and me and something tells me that I've found everything I've ever wanted. And when I touch you," he put his words into action, lifting his hand to gently caress her cheek, "and I feel you tremble-"
Rory had closed her eyes the moment his silky voice reached out and caressed her. He was dangerous. Pulling her wits about her, she ran her hands up his chest and slowly pushed him away. "That wasn't flattery, Mr. DuGrey," she said, teasingly. She knew her smile was shaky. "That was seduction."
"There's a difference?" he asked, his lips curling into a smile as he took in her flushed cheeks.
The ding of the elevator sounded before Rory could say anything. As the doors opened and she walked into the elevator, she said, "Oh yes, there's definitely a difference."
Tristan just grinned.
* * * * *
Unfortunately –or maybe, fortunately-, Samantha was right. The moment she walked through the double doors, every eye in the room turned to her. She was tempted to turn around and walk away but Tristan anchored her to the spot. The feel of his arm around her waist was both reassuring and nerve-wracking, and his hold tightened imperceptibly as they walked further into the room.
The attention, thankfully, didn't last very long. Rory visibly relaxed as Tristan ushered her to an empty table.
"You feeling okay?" he asked.
Rory nodded, reaching for the glass of water in front of her. "I'm fine. I was just surprised, that's all."
He chuckled. "I'm sure you knew perfectly well what reaction you'd get with that dress, Rory."
"Actually," came the voice from behind them, "I was the one who tipped her off. Hell, I was the one who persuaded her to buy the damn dress."
Tristan turned around in his seat to look at the newcomer. Smiling, he said, "Well, I guess you deserve a big thank you."
Sam waved her hand airily. "Just doing my part in bringing Rory's inner she-devil out." She punctuated her statement with a bold wink, earning a laugh from Tristan.
"She has an inner she-devil?"
"Believe me, she does. She hides it really well, but sometimes she lets it come out to play." She gave him a quick once-over, taking in the dark blue shirt under the impeccably tailored suit. "And you must be Tristan."
He took her pre-offered hand and lifted it to his lips, turning on the charm. "I see my reputation precedes me."
Rory jumped in, knowing that Sam would say something absolutely inappropriate in response. "Tristan, this is Samantha Lee: fellow reporter and former Harvard roommate."
"Oh, so you're Sammy." At Sam's perplexed look, he offered an explanation. "I know Paris and she's spoken of you."
At this information, Sam raised her brow and gave him an appraising look. "You're the Tristan from Chilton?"
Rory was the one who answered. "Yes, he is."
Sam tsked lightly. "Funny how you neglected to mention that, Ror."
All Rory did was give an innocent smile. "Must have crossed my mind."
She decided to let her friend off the hook and changed the subject. "I was right, wasn't I?" she exclaimed, gleefully rubbing her hands. "I can feel all the women in this room casting jealous looks at you."
Rory rolled her eyes. "Great. Just great."
"You've got the dress and," Sam grinned at Tristan, "the perfect accessory." She stuck her lower lip out in a pout. "Even I hate you right now."
"I'm an accessory?" Tristan protested.
"Well, sweetheart, with you at Rory's side, she looks even more fabulous."
His eyes turned beseechingly to Rory. "Is that why you asked me to come with you?"
Rory smiled widely, deciding to play along. "I just wanted to show you off." She stood up and held her hand out to him. "So c'mon Romeo, let's go heat up the dance floor."
He couldn't turn down an offer like that.
Sam watched as the pair ambled to the dance floor, smiling herself. Rory Gilmore may not admit it, she thought, but she liked Tristan. A lot.
* * * * *
"Are you going back to Stars Hollow for Christmas?"
Rory nodded against his shoulder but pulled back a moment later so that she could look at him. "Yeah, I will be." Her smile was cheery when she said, "I'm actually looking forward to it."
He matched her smile and watched as she rested her head on his shoulder again. His smile broadened and he leaned closer to her, taking in the feel of her slender body close to him. "Any particular reason why you're so excited?"
Her voice near his ear, she answered, "It's just that things are so much better now with my mom. All that awkwardness is gone… and Christmas can go back to being what it used to be. Are you going back too?"
"I don't want to," Tristan began and she felt his body tense a little. "But I do anyway; I don't want Nat to be alone on Christmas."
She leaned back, smiling as she looked into his eyes. "I have an idea."
"Why am I scared?" Tristan joked.
Swatting his arm, she ignored his jibe and went on, "How would you feel about spending Christmas in Stars Hollow?"
He took in her expectant look, but was still uncertain. "Are you sure?"
Rory's nod was emphatic. "I'm sure. Nat will love it." The arms around his neck curled tighter. "You'll love it. Nothing beats Christmas Stars Hollow style"
He considered her offer for a moment, but it was too tempting and he found himself giving in. "Okay, I'll run the idea by Nat and see what she says."
"Great." Her smile faded as she remembered a tiny detail. "One thing though: my grandparents are having a party on the 26th and she invited the both of us."
"No problem, we'll go."
"You don't mind?"
"Better your grandparents than my parents," he pointed out. "If I at least show my face at one of those parties, my parents can't say anything. But I wanna cash in a favour of my own."
"Well, after all the favours you've done for me, I can't say no, can I?" Rory smiled.
"My friend, Nick, is having a New Years' Eve party. So if you'll be here on the Eve, I'd like you to come with me."
"Not a problem."
He smiled his thanks but he couldn't resist teasing, "You didn't say yes out of pity, did you?"
In response, she rolled her eyes. "Say another word and you'll need to find yourself another date."
Tristan wisely kept his mouth shut.
* * * * *
"You're leaving, already?" Sam whined. "You'll be missing out on the fun. Half the people are still sober!"
Rory laughed. "You have a warped sense of humor, Sam."
"I know," Sam grinned. "That's what years of friendship with you did to me." She glanced meaningfully at Tristan who was waiting a few feet away. "So, you're off for a little rendezvous with Mr. Sexy over there, huh?"
"Maybe, maybe not," was Rory's evasive answer. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Of course I wanna know! Why do you think I asked in the first place?"
"'Cos you like poking your nose in my business?"
"Well, that too," Sam conceded. "C'mon, give me some dirt!"
Rory shrugged. "I don't know what we're gonna do. Probably get some coffee or something."
Sam grabbed her friend by the shoulders and shook her lightly. "Rory, you have that gorgeous specimen of a man at your beck and call and all you can think of is getting coffee?" She shook her head in disappointment. "I have failed as a friend."
"Look, it's not like that with the two of us," Rory said defensively.
"Uh huh," Sam said, unconvinced. "Sure, if you say so. I see the way he looks at you. And," she said pointedly, "I see the way you look at him."
"It doesn't mean anything."
"Oh, for God's sake, the sexual tension between you two is overwhelming," Sam argued. "It's all there in the subtext."
"There is no subtext," was the vehement denial.
Sam's grin was smug. "What I've heard from Paris tells me otherwise."
"What could Paris possibly have to say?" Rory sighed.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sam quipped, delighting in throwing Rory's words back at her.
Rory just narrowed her eyes in exasperation.
"Fine, fine. Go on," Sam finally said, making a shoo-ing motion. "Just be sure to give me every lurid detail."
"There'll be nothing to tell," Rory insisted.
"Wanna bet?"
* * * * *
Rory simultaneously tried to pull her coat closer to her body and keep up with Tristan, who was practically dragging her along. "What's the hurry? Where are we going?" she asked, her breath coming out in short puffs. "Oooh, I see a Starbucks! Can we-"
Tristan squeezed her hand, but didn't stop. "No, we can't. We only have fifteen minutes to get there."
She sighed, but truthfully she wasn't that put out. "To get where?"
Turning back to smile at her, he said, "I thought you would have figured it out by now."
"What do you think I am? A walking map of New York?" she huffed. "All I know is that you parked an ungodly distance from wherever it is we're going."
"Patience, little grasshopper."
"You try being patient while brisk-walking in two-inch heels."
When Tristan abruptly halted, she almost ran into him. It was his quick reflexes that prevented her from falling face-down on the cold asphalt.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.
Rory shook her head and laughed lightly. "Nope. Just me being a klutz."
When she tore her eyes away from his, she realized that they were standing in front of the Empire State Building. Looking back at him, she saw his wide smile and she found herself shaking her head, half in disbelief. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
His smile widened but he didn't say anything. Tugging on her hand, he said, "C'mon, let's go."
* * * * *
"I wish we could stay up here longer," Rory whispered, her eyes on the New York skyline. Her coat was doing little to protect her from the cold wind and it seemed like she was slowly losing the feeling in her toes but she didn't care. When she first came to New York and was eager to explore the city, visiting the Empire State Building had been on her list of things to do. She can't remember exactly why, but she never did get around to it. Taking in the spectacular view before her, she wished that she had.
"We've still got another fifteen minutes before closing time," Tristan said, enjoying watching her reaction. "And you can come back again some other day."
"I know," was her plain answer. "But," her smile was faraway, "nothing can match up to this first time."
As her eyes scanned the night sky, his eyes trailed over her. He enjoying seeing the light in her eyes and the faint smile of wonder that made him appreciate the beauty laid out before him, even though he had been up there before. He noticed something else too: the slight tremble of her shoulders and the way she hugged her arms around herself.
Without hesitation, he laid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. "You're freezing. Maybe we should go inside."
"No, I'm fine," she replied, but she huddled closer to him; her actions betraying her words.
He drew his arm back, in order to shrug off his coat and offer it to her but she stilled him by placing a hand on his chest. "You don't have to. I'll be fine."
Tristan shook his head. "You can't expect me to be warm while you're freezing your ass off. It's most un-chivalrous."
"Well, it wouldn't be gracious of me to let you turn into an icicle."
"I have a solution." His mischievous grin had her on guard. "How about we share my coat?"
She raised her brow at his suggestion. "So this whole thing was an elaborate ploy to get me in your coat?"
Tristan laughed and pulled her back to him until she was within hugging distance. She didn't protest. "I wouldn't say elaborate ploy." Pulling open his coat, he tugged her forward until she was snugly in his arms. "It was more like an opportunity that presented itself."
"Hmm," she mumbled, as she felt his body warmth seep into her. In an unconscious move, she snaked one arm around his waist, her other hand climbing up to rest against his chest. "You always did strike me as an opportunist."
"What a glowing compliment."
She didn't bother lifting her head from his chest. "I meant that you're the kind of person who wouldn't let a chance pass him by, wouldn't let something he really wanted to slip away."
"Is that so?" he asked.
"Yes, it is," she confirmed.
"Well then," his voice lowered to a whisper, "thank you."
Something in his tone of voice- as well as the frenzied beat of his heart that she felt beneath her palm- made her pull back. The expression in his eyes gave his whispered words more meaning than the situation warranted.
Smiling gently, he ran his fingertips across her cheek and felt an answering shiver run through her.
When she finally spoke, her voice was as soft as his had been. "You're welcome."
To her, it felt like the moment was frozen in time. His lips were still tilted in an irresistible smile and his eyes were still locked on hers. She was holding her breath, anticipating something but not really sure if she had only imagined his gaze dropping down to her lips before darting back up again.
She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to know that she affected him as much as he did her. She had to know that the attraction wasn't one-sided, that the desire burgeoning within her was echoed in him.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he told her, his voice rough with emotion.
Rory let out a little laugh but the tension that coiled her stomach tightened with the impact of his words… and the feel of his fingers sifting through her hair. "So you've told me," she answered.
"Well, you are," he affirmed, leaning forward until his breath brushed her lips with every word he whispered.
The next moment, heat diffused through her chilled body as their lips met. She wasn't quite certain who had initiated the kiss but when his hand ran up her back and settled at her nape and his lips opened more insistently against hers, all coherent thought fled her mind. All she could do was to grip his waist tighter and welcome the deepening intensity of his kiss.
The kiss slowly tapered off with one last brush of his lips over hers but they still kept their arms around each other; both reluctant to end the closeness.
"We seem to keep that doing that," Tristan remarked, unable to keep the smile off his face.
"Are you complaining?" she teased, moving forward to kiss the corner of his smile. "'Cos we can stop, if you want."
He scrunched up his forehead, pretending to think about it. "I don't know. What do you think?"
"I think that we can't help it."
"We can't help it?"
Rory nodded sagely but the playful twinkle in her eyes undermined her seriousness. "No, we can't."
To prove her point, she yanked on his tie, meshing her mouth to his as soon as he was near enough. Instantly, the teasing banter was forgotten as the spark between them fused with each slow stroke of passion. The last thing that crossed Rory's mind before she surrendered to the storm of emotion was that she had lost the bet with Sam.
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