Disclaimer: Do not own a damn thing! The characters belong to ASP and the WB.

Rating: PG-13 for now

Pairing: Louise/Tristan

Author's Note: Yes, I do realize I am a Trory. But I am also big on UC 'ships and characters and couples that have been underused and underdeveloped. I will not make it a Trory, even though Rory is in it. I do ask you guys to give it a chance. Maybe you'll like it. That is all.

Dedication: To Christine, who let me borrow the character of Augusta Mariano from her wonderful fic When She Cries.

Chapter Two

Tuxedos were an annoyance, even to someone like Tristan who had grown up in a society that relished in dressing people up in expensive gowns and these…penguin suits. But it was a wedding and he was a groomsman; that made donning a tuxedo pretty much unavoidable. He hadn't known that Brad Langford considered him such a close friend and Tristan had to admit, he was touched. He supposed Rory, Paris and Madeline had much to do with how different his social circle was now at the age of twenty eight as opposed to the groupies he had surrounded himself with in high school and his first two years of college. He wondered if they knew how grateful to them he was for it.

"Jesus." He fussed with the bowtie again in exasperation and as he looked around the small entrance of the church for someone to complain about it to, he felt something tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see the four-year old flower girl, looking up with a solemn smile.

If there ever was a perfect personification of Jess and Paris's union, it was Augusta Mariano, with her dark ringlets of hair and wide, startlingly beautiful caramel brown eyes. Serious wasn't the word Tristan would use to describe the child, but rather aware seemed to be more apt description, as odd as it seemed. It was unnerving to him whenever she settled that gaze on him; he felt she could read every one of his thoughts.

"Hi Uncle Tristan," she pronounced clearly, her voice soft and sweet.

"Hey there pretty girl," he replied, crouching down to her height. Another one of the many things that surprised him about the child was her strange attachment to him. She would often seek out his company when Paris and Jess dragged her to any social function and Rory had once told him that Augusta had even requested that Tristan be her babysitter. He wasn't great with kids, he didn't love them in that gushy way women always did but his affection for Augusta was deep and beyond his control. He picked at pale pink bow at the waist of her cream colored dress. "That dress is very nice."

Her nose scrunched delicately, a funny expression for such a serious face. "I don't like dresses. Mommy said I have to."

"Well it's a wedding," Tristan explained, tugging lightly at one of her curls. "And you're the flower girl. If it makes you feel any better, I don't like wearing this either."

She smiled widely, her dimples deepening.

"Augusta!" The material of Rory's pale blue bridesmaid dress swished as she rushed out into the foyer from the dressing room which was down a long, narrow passageway. "You sneaky brat. Come back here and let me tie your hair with this pretty ribbon."

The child giggled and latched onto Tristan's hand, in an act of solidarity as she turned to face Rory. "No!"

"But it's pink," Rory coaxed softly, looking at Tristan for help. He merely grinned and stood up, still holding Augusta's hand. She scowled at him and now crouched down in front of the child. "It'll look so pretty in your hair. Don't you want to look pretty?"

"No," she repeated petulantly. "Ribbons suck."

Tristan guffawed; she was obviously her father's daughter. When Rory sighed, tiredly, he simply smiled. "The girl cannot be manipulated, Ror. So what if she doesn't have ribbons in her hair? She looks fine."

"Then you explain it to Paris and Madeline."

"Explain what?" Paris asked as she came up behind Rory. Augusta retreated behind Tristan's leg when her mother frowned at her disapprovingly. "Aggie, why don't you have ribbons in your hair?"

He bent down and picked the child up. "Leave her alone, people. She doesn't need decorations to make her pretty."

Augusta giggled and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek while the women rolled their eyes. Paris turned to the other woman with a sigh. "Madeline needs you back there. I've had enough with her rambling. You'd think she was the only person in the world to ever get married."

Rory chuckled and thrust the ribbons in Paris's hand before disappearing down the hallway. Tristan gave Paris an approving once over. She was wearing the same pale blue bridesmaid dress as Rory, which tastefully covered her five-month pregnant belly. "You look beautiful, Gellar."

Although her cheeks flushed, she rolled her eyes. "You're just trying to make up for siding with my offspring."

"Don't pout, darling. This is a wedding." He grinned at her surly expression, tightened his grip on Augusta and leaned down a little. "Now give me a kiss."

"Don't think you can charm me," she shot back even as she took his face in her hands and gave him a friendly kiss on the lips. Augusta laughed and swung one arm around her mother's shoulder so that she was now hanging between them.

"Moving in on my family, DuGrey?" Jess drawled from behind them, looking a little put off, seeing his wife and daughter with another man. "Can't seem to find one of your own, can you?"

"Forgive me, Mariano. Your wife is irresistible," Tristan stated as they broke apart, chuckling and that's when they noticed Louise Grant standing beside Jess, smiling and clutching her plastic encased maid of honor dress on her arm.

"Louise!" Paris's eyes brightened and she quickly walked over to her oldest friend, enveloping her in a hug.

"Hello Paris," Louise said over the other woman's shoulder, smiling widely. She looked over briefly at him and Tristan saw the surprise in her blue eyes as she registered his presence. "It's so good to see you."

"We thought you'd never get here," Paris stated as she pulled away from the hug. "Madeline is going crazy, which is nothing out of the ordinary but I think she just wants to see you."

"Well, let's not keep the bride waiting," she said and with that, the two women disappeared down the hallway.

Augusta shifted in Tristan's arm and reached for her father. "Daddy."

As the child switched arms and started to place kisses all over her father's face, Brad showed up behind the other men, looking like a wreck. His bowtie was crooked, his russet hair was matted to his forehead from perspiration and he looked like he was ready to bolt any second.

"There you guys are!" he exclaimed, looking relieved. "Where the hell have you been? Oh God! Did I just say 'hell' in a church? Damn, I did it again. Now I said damn. Jesus Christ! I'm going out of my mind!"

Tristan laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "Calm down, Langford. Say a couple of Hail Marys and you should be just fine."

Augusta played with Brad's bowtie. "Crooked, Uncle Brad."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "Thanks Aggie. I'm a nervous wreck."

"You don't say?" Jess deadpanned. "Doesn't look like it."

"What is taking her so long?" he asked, flailing his arms in the general direction of the room the girls seemed to be disappearing into. "She's been in there for hours. It can't be that difficult to get into a dress, can it?"

"Well Louise just got here," Jess answered. "I think they should be ready in a minute."

On cue, Rory popped her head out of the door and shouted that they would be ready in less than sixty seconds. Tristan turned to Brad and made a sweeping gesture to the church. "Let's get you hitched, Langford."

"About damn time!" he exclaimed and then covered his mouth with his hand. "I'll just shut up now."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"…so Bradford calls me up in the middle of the night, completely trashed…"

Louise felt like someone was tapping a small hammer on the base of her skull as she listened to Brad's imbecilic cousin, Jerry regale the head table with another anecdote from Brad's misbegotten youth with his dork of a cousin and current best man. It was bad enough that she had to dance with the guy as soon as Brad and Madeline had their first dance as husband and wife but now she was supposed to listen to him speak too? Didn't he grab the limelight long enough when he made his best man speech? The worst speech in the history of speech-making in her opinion. She had given so much thought to her own speech, remembering all her best times with Madeline and wishing the two the best of luck – she had been genuine and real, while this ass-wipe took the opportunity to talk about frat boy antics most of which were of himself.

She sighed and let her eyes wander over the guests at the reception. It wasn't a huge affair, most of the people in the room were the happy couple's respective extended families and the rest were close friends and some co-workers.

Which is why she was surprised to see Tristan DuGrey at the reception and even more surprised to know that he landed himself a spot as a groomsman. Brad was not really in his social circle back in high school and she had a hard time believing that the blond playboy, who her mother, Annette Grant, had often told her (in her secret emails to her daughter) was the most eligible bachelor in Hartford, had somehow befriended shy, eager and all-around nice guy Brad Langford just for the heck of it.

Maybe it was the brunette beside him that had earned him the spot.

Rory Gilmore. Louise knew that Rory was dating some slime ball (she wondered why Rory hadn't figured it out) named Michael that no one liked but deep down, she often wondered about her relationship with Tristan. Whenever Madeline spoke of them it was always 'Rory and Tristan are coming' or 'Rory and Tristan couldn't make it'. RoryandTristan. TristanandRory. Louise was beginning to think it was just a matter of time before they stopped kidding themselves.

Then again, what did she know? She was hardly one to judge their relationship when she lived across the country and only managed to email Rory once in awhile and had barely spoken two words to Tristan since graduating Chilton.

But he had changed somehow and she was surprised to admit that it intrigued her. He was still painfully gorgeous with his messy hair, deep blue eyes and killer smile (seriously, what was wrong with Rory?) but there was something subtly different about him now. In high school, he had been the player, the confident and cocky guy that got all the girls to swoon and all the boys to wish him gone. Fortunately for them, he was finally booted to military school.

Maybe that's what changed him. Madeline had told her Paris was the only one to keep in touch with him the first two years of college and then when he transferred to Yale; he had become friends with Rory. Many trials and twists of fate later, the small group had all ended up in New York (sans Louise, of course) and formed their own, weird, Friends-esque clique.

A pang hit her heart and kind of spread through her chest and before she knew it, a tear was forming in the corner of her eyes. Half laughing, she reached up and wiped it away before it fell. What the hell was the matter with her? As she looked up, she met Tristan's gaze from a couple of seats over and he frowned. Quickly, she gave him a smile and raised her glass of champagne to him in mock cheerfulness. He grinned slowly and raised his own glass before returning his attention to whatever story Rory was telling him.

The lights dimmed and soft strands of Eva Cassidy's Songbird wafted through the hall. One of Brad's other cousins picked up the microphone and announced, "It's time for Brad and Madeline's first dance as husband and wife."

As the groom led his beaming bride to the middle of the dance floor, Louise leaned back in her chair, happy for her friend but dreading the tradition of dancing with Jerry, the idiotic best man. Just my luck, she thought bitterly as she picked up her champagne and downed it in one sip. Might as well get a little tipsy.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Dance with me."

"No."

"Please Tristan!"

"Don't beg, you look simple."

Rory pouted and smacked him on the arm. "Meanie. This is a wedding. You're supposed to dance."

Jess sighed and extended his hand. "C'mon Gilmore, I'll let you step on my feet."

"What's this?" his wife asked, completely shocked. "You're dancing at a wedding, willingly? What did they put in the food?"

"You're a riot, Par. But if I have to listen to Gilmore beg DuGrey's ear off, I'll go insane. Besides, I made a ridiculous promise to Madeline, which I am regretting with every passing second, that I would dance at her wedding. And you're too heavy to lug around the dance floor."

Aggie giggled as she patted her mother's stomach and Paris glared at her husband and daughter. Rory accepted Jess's hand and stuck her tongue out at Tristan. "I don't need you, DuGrey."

"Oh you break my heart." As Jess and Rory joined the other couples on the dance floor, Paris looked around the reception hall as if she were looking for someone. "Who are you trying to find, Gellar?"

"Louise," she responded as she craned her neck. "I haven't seen her since she had to dance with that idiot, Jerry. I was hoping we could talk."

"Sounds serious."

"I'm just…I don't know," Paris responded with a shrug. "Concerned, I guess. Louise is not exactly the same girl we knew in Chilton."

"Yeah but how many of us are?" he asked rhetorically as he folded his arms on the table. "I mean, I'm hoping we all grew up a little, right."

"Not you," Paris joked. "You'll always be exactly like you were when you were sixteen."

He grinned lazily. "Well, that's just part of my charm. But hey, if you're worried or something, I can go look for her if you want."

She looked grateful. "My feet are killing me. Just don't tell her I sent you."

After fifteen minutes of fending off advances from women ranging from eighteen to thirty-five, he finally tracked Louise down in the verandah outside. She had a glass of champagne in one hand and a cigarette in the other as she stared across the gardens into what seemed like nothingness.

"Hey Louise," he said softly, not being able to think of any other greeting.

She looked startled for a minute as she looked at him over her shoulder and then relaxed into a small smile. "Paris sent you, didn't she?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Guilty. She was just…"

"Worried?" Louise filled in and then laughed. "God, she doesn't change."

Tristan came to stand beside her and nodded. "It's a comforting thought if you really think about it. You can always depend on Paris Gellar to stay the same, somewhere deep down inside."

"There is that," she responded and then took a drag from her cigarette. After expelling a breath, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "And what about you Tristan DuGrey?"

"What about me?" he asked as he took the cigarette out of her fingers and lifted it to his own lips and inhaled.

"Are you any different from when I knew you, way back when?"

"You tell me."

"I think you are," she replied after a minute of deliberation. "You're more…grown up."

He almost choked on the wisp of smoke exiting from his mouth and she took the cigarette back. "Wow. That has to be a first. Would you do me a favor and tell that to Paris and Rory."

She giggled and for a second she looked twelve again, when she and Madeline giggled endlessly at the first boy-girl party a fellow Chiltonite had thrown. He didn't know why the image flashed through his mind at that moment but it brought a smile to his face and the beautiful woman she'd grown into smiled back. "So you and Rory…?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "No. We're just friends."

She smirked. "Famous words. If I remember correctly, you made a fool of yourself over her sophomore year."

"I grew up, remember? Besides, that was a long time ago."

Her smile disappeared slightly and she looked away, opting to stare at the garden again. She dropped the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the heel of her shoe. "Yeah, a long time ago. A lot has changed, hasn't it?"

She had the same look on her face during dinner when Tristan could have sworn he had seen her wipe away a tear. Never an expert when dealing with female tears, he frowned. "Are you okay, Louise?"

She smiled at him brightly. "Splendid. Let's go back in and dance."

Before he could say anything she hurried back into the reception hall, leaving him no choice but to follow, wondering what the hell was going on in Louise Grant's life to make her sad. And wondering why he was so interested in finding out.