Tristan drove until they were just out of the city. He stopped the car on top of a hill that overlooked the city. It was dark out now and as Rory stepped out of the car, she could see millions of stars illuminating the night sky. She followed Tristan's example of sitting up on the hood of his car and leaning back against the windshield.

"So, is this where you bring all your dates?" Rory ventured.

"I don't bring anyone here."

She looked at him. He sounded serious. She figured that the Casanova of Chilton would have a 'spot' where he took girls, no matter where he resided. Maybe she watched too much television. Suddenly it dawned on her where they were.

"Is this your favorite place to be?"

"Yeah. I come here when I want to be alone, or to think—whenever. I found it about a week into school."

"It's really beautiful up here. Serene. I can see why you like it."

They sat in silence, just taking in the scenery around them. Tristan looked over at Rory, who had closed her eyes. She looked so peaceful, and the moon was casting almost an iridescent glow on her. He reached out to her hand, which was laying along side her, and began tracing the outline of her fingers.

She allowed herself to just breathe in the fresh air. There was a slight nip to the air, but it was nowhere near as cold as Connecticut. It was nice to be outside this time of year without freezing to death. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Tristan's light touch on her hand. She felt her breathing change. It was no longer deep and even, it was becoming shallow and irregular. At long last, she opened her eyes and looked down at her hand and then into his eyes.

He stopped tracing her hand, and took her hand into his. When he saw her look directly at him, he turned so he was facing her. She had a lock of hair sweeping across her forehead and her eyes showed both hesitation and longing. He reached out with his other hand and brushed the hair off her face and rested it along the side of her face. She leaned in closer to him as if on instinct and he closed the small remainder of a gap between them.

This kiss was completely different than the one they shared at the party. It started out gentle, but rapidly grew more intense, almost fierce. Rory's mind was fuzzy. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew she didn't want this feeling to stop. Tristan wasn't doing much better. Usually he was in control of the situation, but not this time. Tongues caressed, teeth tugged and lips were on fire, leaving hot trails in their wake. When they drew back for a moment, lust now filled both sets of blue eyes, mirroring back at one another.

"Rory," Tristan started to speak, but she put a single finger to his lips, quieting him. His tone was almost desperate.

"Shh," she soothed, taking his face in her hands this time, and instigated yet another kiss. He moaned from somewhere in the back of his throat as she moved quickly from his lips down his strong jaw line. He wanted to show her that he wasn't in control anymore. Not with her. It freaked him out a little, but at the same time, he wanted her to understand how special she was. Because of that and because of who she was. But she really didn't seem to be in the mood to listen.

As she hit the spot right under his earlobe, all rational thought of wanting to explain anything went out of his mind. There was no more rational thought, in fact. He moved over her, pinning her down against the hood of his car. She let out a moan of protest when she no longer had access to his neck, but was quieted when he began his own assault on her neck. He moved down to the collar of her shirt, and moved it out of the way to get access to her shoulder. Suddenly she wished to remove the offending barrier to allow him access to work that magical feeling he was creating in her, well, anywhere he wanted to grace her with.

And that was the thought that brought her sitting straight up, almost knocking him off to the side of her.

"Ror? Are you alright?"

"I'm, oh my God, Tristan. I'm more than alright. As much as I don't want to stop doing what we're doing, I think we should probably talk about something first."

He nodded, knowing she was right. If they didn't stop soon, they might end up going way too fast and end up ruining something he never wanted to end. He just had no idea what to say. Or what she wanted, really. He'd thought about where this could go, realistically, with them states apart. Mainly he just tried not to think about it. He wanted this so much, but he knew she was too logical for this.

"You go first," he pleaded.

"Well, I mean, I guess I just wondered, what are we?"

"What are we?"

"Yeah, I mean, what are we doing? Are we dating?"

"I think we're sort of laying the groundwork."

She nodded. She didn't want to ask the next question. But she had to know.

"So, do what do we do about the distance thing?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't."

"I don't think it's a good idea for any relationship, but one that really hasn't started yet—that's just,"

"Crazy," he finished.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

She looked at him. He had laid back against the windshield and had closed his eyes now. His facial muscles were pulled tight, almost in a grimace. She hated herself for bringing this all up. But that was her purpose in this weekend, to figure out what was going on with them.

She reached out and put her hand on top of his.

"I want to try anyway, though," she whispered.

He hoped he had really heard her, not just hoped so hard that he was hearing things. He squeezed her hand and nodded.

"Me too."

Once back at his apartment, he lay down on the couch, and she climbed onto the bed. He thought it was a bad idea to attempt to sleep next to her—well, if he wanted any sleep. He figured he might be able to control himself if he slept on the couch. He knew if she had shown up in the middle of the night, he wouldn't have been able to say no to letting her crawl in bed next to him. He let out a deep breath and prayed for his sanity. Going slow with this girl was a must in his mind, and it was the hardest thing he might have ever done.

Rory took out her cell phone and dialed her mom's number. She got the voicemail and left a short message, telling her mom to call her back. She turned off the bedside light and got comfortable under the covers. The pillow smelled like Tristan, and she buried her face into it. She wished he would have joined her, but at the rate their 'innocent kisses' were going, it was probably smart for now that he was out on the couch. As she lay there in the dark, her cell rang.

"Hello?" She whispered.

"Rory?" came the whispered voice on the other end.

"Mom?"

"Why are you whispering?"

"It's like one in the morning."

"Hoping not to wake someone up?" Worry crept into Lorelai's voice. She couldn't help it.

"Well, yeah, but not like you think. He's on the couch. I'm on the bed. I'm just erring on the side of caution."

"What? I trust you."

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm at Luke's."

"Diner?"

"Apartment."

Silence. Rory was actually stunned. But she quickly found her voice.

"Mom, care to tell me why you're in Luke's apartment?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time, amazingly enough."

"Well, we were all going out—Sookie, Jackson, Luke and me,"

"Luke and I."

"Oh my God! It's 1 am, give me a break!"

"Sorry. Go on."

"Right, anyway, Davey got sick, and Sookie and Jackson bailed out. But we didn't know until we got to the restaurant. So by the time Sookie calls, we're both hungry, so we decide to stay. I didn't think anything of it, I mean, it's Luke. But all of a sudden he started talking about Nicole and the divorce and how she'd cheated on him, and he was drinking. I mean, he got so his words were coming out in one big mega word. So when we got up to leave, I gave him a hug and took the keys out of his pockets."

"Poor Luke."

"Yeah. So, he can't find his keys, go figure, and I suggest he come to my house and we leave his car here, and I can bring him back when he's in a more appropriate state of sobriety. He started freaking out about needing to open the diner early in the morning and the freakish people who come early on Saturdays, so I agree to drive him back in his truck to stay at his house."

"Why didn't you just go home then?"

"Well, that was the other reason I agreed."

"What?"

"I sort of locked my keys in the car. So I need to go home and get the key out of the turtle and find my spare set before I can go get my car."

"Smooth. So how's Luke now?"

"Well, he sort of passed out when we were driving home. I woke him up when we got to the diner, and heaved him up the stairs—Luke is really heavy!"

"I bet."

"But then he started talking about how certain people are supposed to be together, and kept asking me what I thought about that."

"Weird."

"Oh, it gets weirder. Then he kissed me."

"Whoa! What happened then?"

"Then he passed out again."

"Bummer. I thought you did something dirty!"

"Rory! This is Luke! Luke kissed me!"

"Was he a good kisser?"

"Missing the point here."

"What is the point? Come on, Mom, you like Luke. You have to. You guys are so obvious."

"We're not obvious, nothing about this is obvious! And I have to see this guy, everyday. He provides the much needed food and coffee, remember?"

"You liked the kiss, then?"

"Yeah, I did. That's the worst part. He's not even going to remember doing it."

"You don't know that."

"Well, I guess we'll see soon enough won't we?"

"If he doesn't, just remind him."

"I guess I ought to go before he wakes up again. I will call you Monday and tell you what happens tomorrow. Are you having a good time?"

"The best."

"You sound way to happy. Do you do something dirty?"

"No. But I think we're officially dating."

"Aw, that's nice. You do sound happy. I'm a big fan of that."

"Me too. Night mom."

"Night honey."