The Space Between

Chapter 4, Part 1
by givemebackme

The Space Between

Where you're smiling high

Is where you'll find me if I get tickled

The Space Between

The bullets in our firefight

Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you…

An unmistakable warming pressure against his chest stirs Tristan from blissful sleep. The pressure moves a bit, and realizing someone is in his bed with him, he is startled. Cracking open his eyes, he sees the sleeping form of Rory pressed against his own, her hand touching his chest in her sleep. In an overwhelming rush of memories he suddenly recalls the previous night's activities with the sleeping beauty beside him. His tired eyes close once again and he smiles. He lies for a while, reveling in the unforgettable moment.

Rory and I slept together. We made love. And now I'm laying here in bed, holding her in my arms.

His mind suddenly becomes a jumbled mix of realizations and hopes. Hopes that Rory's decisions made the night before were not rash ones, but ones made of feeling for him.

Why else would she go as for as to sleep with him? He knows she had been a virgin. He could see it in the expressions she made, the touches she gave him. They were unsure, but willing. Willing to be with him, willing to accept him. Her acceptance has warmed his aching being. And for once his true dreams seem in his reach.

The feelings besieging him are like that of getting tickled. No matter what he does or thinks, a fluttering sensation from deep within him has his eyes watering with undeniable happiness. With every breath he takes her scent invades his senses, implanting within his memory for all eternity.

I'm in love.

The thought, though simplistic, is so profound, so honest, and so true to his every feeling that Tristan has to bite his tongue to keep from whooping in elation.

I'm in love, and it doesn't scare me.

Again the overwhelming need to express his glee consumes him. He suddenly wants to tell her everything; his every feeling, his every thought, his every hope and dream. He wants Rory to truly know him, and love him back in the way that he loves her.

As if hearing his thoughts she begins to stir awake. At her movements Tristan reopens his eyes, watching her rub her eyes in a half daze. Giving her some assistance, he brushes her hair from her face with his hand. In response to his touch her eyes quickly snap open, staring directly at him from mere inches away. After a moment she seems to remember everything and much to his delight she gives him a small smile.

"Hey," she says in a small voice. He leans over, gently placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Hey," he replies, smiling. She stretches her arms, causing her chocolate hair to sprawl across the pillow. As she rolls on her back, a stream of light from the rising sun streaks across her face. She winces when the light clouds her eyes.

"What time is it?" she asks, her voice groggy with sleep. He flits his eyes to the clock and then to her.

"Almost six." As Tristan stretches his own limbs, lightly kicking at the blankets covering them, Rory groans.

"It's too early," she complains. He smiles at her childish antics.

"And it's freezing," she adds, yanking the covers over her head. Grinning he joins her underneath.

"Tristan! I'm naked under here," she exclaims upon his entrance under the sheets.

"So? Rory, I've already seen you naked." Even in the dim light he can see her turn beat red. His grin widens.

"What makes it okay you to be under here and not me? I'm naked too, ya know." She suddenly emits a small squeak, and if possible, the flush on her face deepens. Her eyes snap to his, staring, refusing to look anywhere but at is face. His grin widens two fold.

"This is kind of convenient don't you think?" he asks. Her questioning eyes narrow suspiciously. He continues.

"I mean we do have a little over an hour before we have to be anywhere. We could use this time for a little fun…" Her eyes widen even more. She begins to protest but he silences her with a slow, sensual kiss. She responds, bringing her hands behind his head and scooting herself closer to him. He starts to deepen the kiss when she suddenly pulls away. Tristan groans in protest.

"We can't do this right now," she states, pushing the covers down. He pouts.

"Oh yes we can, Gilmore," Tristan says, pulling her towards him again.

"Seriously we can't. As much as I want to we-"

"So you admit you want to," he interrupts her. She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, but I-"

"So I guess that means you had fun last night," he says, interrupting her again. Her eyes narrow a bit.

"I think I'll deny everything. Your ego is already too big." With that she stands, pulling the covers with her, leaving a naked Tristan sprawled alone on the bed.

"Ah, get back here with that!" he exclaims, trying to cover himself. She smirks.

"Aw but Tristan, I've already seen you naked," she retorts, repeating his earlier words.

"You are evil," he says, glaring at her receding back. She gives him one last glance, smirking, before stepping into the bathroom, flipping her hair haughtily over her shoulder while closing the door behind her.

In her absence Tristan's thoughts wander; wondering, searching. How can such a gift be given to him? What has he done to deserve it? Such a blessing…Rory.

He is falling--if he hasn't already. With the space between them nearly nonexistent, he no longer feels torn. Between whether Rory has been his blessing or his curse. The past night, the glorious past night, has remolded Tristan's entire existence. His heart is changed, his mind is changed, his soul and body are changed; his very essence is changed!

"Oh how I am blessed!" he fervently exclaims through gritted teeth, his feelings engorging him from within, threatening to spill from his body in a wave of pure jubilant passion. His hands clenching, his toes curling, his eyelids lolling shut.

He feels he may cry.

"She has given me life." His hands grasp the bed.

"I have fallen and only she can catch me." He rises up, still clutching, his eyelids slowly parting. He stares at the closed door to her bathroom.

He leisurely stands, slipping on his boxers, and padding lightly to the closed door. His hand reaches out, lightly touching the hard wood, gently stroking it as if it is precious. He brings the side of his face to the door, pressing against its cool surface. His eyes close, his brows slightly furrow, his lips turn down. His expression a mixture of near bliss and pain.

"I want to be with her forever." He whispers.

It has been three days since that morning. Three days of uncertainties and unanswered questions that seem to become more numerous with every moment.

Why hasn't she been at school? he silently asks himself for the millionth time.

The bell signaling the end of seventh hour suddenly rings, snatching Tristan from his reverie. Collecting his books he leaves the class, glancing at her empty seat as he passes. He purses his lips and locks his eyes on his feet, desiring for others to leave him at peace.

Within a matter of minutes he is in his car, driving, thinking, remembering. That morning had been a blur. While she was in the shower he had decided to slip out to avoid any early risers, leaving her a simple note signed "Love, Tristan." He had left the room happy, whistling, with a bounce in his step. He hadn't been expecting fate to toy with him for the remainder of the day, but it did.

Pulling him like a puppet, his strings had kept him undesirably at distance from Rory all day. Fist he had been assigned to a group that somehow managed to avoid her group for the entire day. Then the "clever" teachers had decided it would be nice to remain in their groups and get a chance to eat on the town that night, so he had not seen her at dinner as he had planned. And when they returned late he at last saw her, catching her exhausted expression he empted to let her sleep and see her in the morning.

But, per usual, the gods of irony had been mocking him, as he woke up late the next morning with only twenty minutes to pack his things, eat, and board the bus; the wrong bus at that. She had been on another, which did not get caught in traffic and apparently arrived at school an hour before his did. And she had not been at school yesterday for unknown reasons that had ultimately been worrying him to the point of insanity.

"God damn," he curses out loud, his distress about to push him over the edge. His hands clench tightly around the steering wheel as he stares down the long stretch of highway before him. An exit sign sticking out of the tree branches catches his eyes, its words reading "Stars Hollow Next Right".

Immediately, an idea comes to mind.

Not completely sure of himself, he takes the exit, his stomach turning into tight nervous knots. Within a matter of minutes he pulls past the "Welcome to Stars Hollow" sign in all its flowery picket fence glory and into the root of the town. The town patrons walking the streets instantly notice the fancy sports car, entirely out of place, whipping its way through the small town. Making a left, Tristan silently thanks the online directions that he used the last time he had been in Stars Hollow to work on the Romeo and Juliet project.

At last coming upon her house, he parks along the street, noticing the beat up car parked alongside the black Jeep. Just as Tristan closes his car door, the front door to her house swings open and an angry looking dark-haired boy quickly descends the steps, followed by a frantic looking Rory.

"Jess, where are you going?" she asks in exasperation, grabbing the arm of the dark-haired boy and turning him around.

"Home," the boy states simply yet defiantly and turns to leave once more.

"Wait Jess, I-" She suddenly stops, her shocked eyes locking on Tristan. The dark-haired boy's eyes follow her gaze and land on him with a glare. The two boys stare at each other, unsure of the other, yet each holding their heads high with confidence.

"Who are you?" the dark-haired boy asks Tristan. Swallowing, Tristan gaze flits to a now very flustered Rory, who stands beside the boy, fidgeting. Tristan returns his gaze to the boy, squaring his jaw.

"I'm Tristan DuGrey," he states simply, taking a couple of steps towards the couple. With each step his already clenched stomach squeezes harder, causing him to feel nauseous. The boy's skeptical gaze shifts from Tristan, to the flushed Rory, and then back to Tristan; his skeptical gaze becoming even more unsettling.

"What's going on?" the dark-haired boy asks both Rory and Tristan. When Tristan merely looks to Rory who in return looks away guiltily, the boy instantly turns to Rory.

"Well?" the boy asks impatiently. Rory slowly raises her eyes and opens her mouth as if to speak but no sound comes out. She quickly looks away, biting on her lip nervously. This guy has some nerve to talk to her like that, Tristan thinks. The dark-haired boy starts to speak to her again, but Tristan's building anger instantly cuts him off.

"So you must be Jess?" Tristan questions the boy haughtily, intentionally sounding arrogant, hoping to grate on his nerve. The boy cocks a brow.

"What's it to you?" Jess replies snappily, Tristan's antics clearly successful. For some reason, Jess's anger only angers Tristan even more, to the point where Tristan is clenching his fists at his sides to keep from lashing out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jess asks with impatience.

"I came to see Rory, obviously," Tristan comments obnoxiously.

"Well no shit," Jess says, rolling his eyes. Tristan glances to the mute Rory, wondering why she isn't saying anything. Realizing her intense discomfort, Tristan takes a deep breath, deciding to let this one go.

"Hey, no need to get hostile. I'll just let you two finish up with…whatever." Tristan turns on his heel and walks back to his car where he leans nonchalantly against it, trying not to pay attention to the couple.

Tristan watches as Jess starts to walk towards the beat up car again, not having said a single word to Rory. As Rory follows Jess, her quiet pleas having no apparent affect on him, Tristan's suppressed anger rampantly spreads throughout him. His clenched hands squeeze tighter, his nails digging into his palms until they start to hurt. Rory's voice rises suddenly, making it impossible to ignore their conversation.

"Jess, please, would you stop running away and stay long enough to work this out?" Jess instantly whips around, bringing his menacing face closely to hers.

"I am not running away," Jess exclaims fiercely, and she draws back in surprise. The ferocity in his voice instantly cuts any strings restraining Tristan, and within a second Tristan is at the boy's side, swinging his fist to the side of his face. A loud thud echoes as Tristan's knuckles make solid contact with Jess's unsuspecting jaw. Jess stumbles from the blow, just barely catching himself from falling.

A now infuriated Jess plows into Tristan, running his dark-head into Tristan's stomach and pushing him to the ground with his momentum. Jess's fist replaces his head, slamming into Tristan's gut twice before the blonde can even think to react. Ignoring the searing pain in his stomach, Tristan brings his knee up and rams it into Jess's groin, pushing the smaller boy off of him, all in one motion. Now on top of Jess, Tristan starts to bring his fist back down to Jess's face, but Jess's quick hands grip Tristan's wrist, catching the two in a struggle of strength. Their sudden stalemate causes them both to be brought back to reality, and to Rory's panicked shouts.

"Tristan stop!" she screams. With surprising strength she pulls Tristan off of Jess, positioning herself between the two ravaging animals. Jess quickly gets to his feet, his body language ready to react.

"God! What in the hell has gotten into you two?" she screams at them. For the first time, Tristan notices the silent tears streaming down her face. Oh god…

"What the fuck is up with you, you fucking dick?" Jess asks Tristan, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Tristan's muscles instantly flex, ready to pounce, but with Rory between them he fights the urge.

"Rory, you deserve so much better than this asshole," Tristan says to her, but keeps his eyes locked on Jess's. Rory makes a sound, about to speak, but Jess cuts her off.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Oh I get it now. You have a thing for Rory don't you? You've fallen so hard that you dragged your pathetic ass out here to plea your case." Jess's surprisingly truthful words cut Tristan deeply and he clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth start to ache.

"And conveniently for you, you caught her in the middle of a fight with her boyfriend," Jess says, continuing his angry rant. Hearing Rory's sharp intake of breath, Tristan's anger returns full force, and his immediate reaction is to lunge at Jess.

"Tristan no!" Rory screams, holding him back from reaching Jess. With her now touching him, he instantly stops struggling and looks down at her, his expression deadly serious.

"Rory, do you love him?" Tristan asks Rory simply. She gazes up at him, startled.

"What?" she replies. Jess suddenly makes a move towards her.

"You heard him Rory," Jess adds. All the color drains from her face as she looks between the two boys. She steps back from them defensively, looking frightened.

"I…" she starts, but fumbles on the words, her voice quavering with distress. Suddenly scared shitless by her lack of response, Tristan pounces on her with another question.



"Better yet, let me ask you this. You know how I feel about you, Rory, and this weekend has made me think that you feel something for me now too." Tristan pauses, taking a deep breath. "So I want to know, right here, right now. Did you sleep with me because of choice A. sex, or choice B. love?"

Rory stares at him in complete silence.