Less than 13 hours later, Tristan was watching Rory sleep as their plane
touched down. The fact that she slept through it amazed him, but she was,
after all, a Gilmore without coffee. After take off, Rory had promptly
ordered a large coffee. After one taste, she gagged, half heartedly
swallowed it and refused to take another sip, declaring that the watered
down, day old coffee was an insult to her sense of taste and coffee itself.
Tristan had laughed, received an icy glare, and ordered a bottled water
for her. She promptly sulked and looked out the window. After entering a
deep withdrawal headache and enduring it for as long as she could, she'd
fallen asleep...and stayed that way. Tristan unbuckled himself and lightly
shook her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off and rolled her head away
from him. With a small chuckle, he unbuckled her and tried again.
"Come on, Ror. You gotta get up, we're there." No response. "Rory!" Silence. After another shake, her arms moved out to stretch as she yawned and curled into a small ball. The content, sleepy smile she wore was truly reminiscent of a kitten. However, she failed to wake. Swearing under his breath, he slid a hand beneath her knees and another behind her back, bringing her against him suddenly. Moving out to the aisle, he carried her to the stairs and set her to her feet, keeping his hands on her arms. Dipping her forward slightly, he smiled as her eyes flew open. "That's more like it." She turned her head enough to glare at him. "We're here!" he stated.
"I noticed," she mumbled, almost incoherent. Her body still sagged and he moved to stand next to her, one hand still firmly holding her arm.
"Come on, Kitten."
"Kitten?" her delicately raised brows seconded her question.
"You look like a kitten when you're asleep, you stretch and curl in a ball, you have your definite likes and dislikes-"
"So, basically I'm feline?"
"A baby feline," he corrected.
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Where's your grandfather?"
"Already at the hotel. He flew in last night. Somehow I didn't think your mom would go for that."
"Probably not."
The ride to the hotel was short and fairly silent, with Rory excitedly watching the passing scenes out the window and Tristan quietly observing her. After checking in and getting the keys to their rooms, Tristan took one of Rory's hands and had to practically drag her up the stairs.
"You could help here," he commented.
"Eh, stop! I'm looking," she complained. And she was. At everything. Each piece of furniture, picture and floral arrangement had her rapt attention.
"My grandfather's waiting for us in his room," he said gently.
The gentle reminder brought her back to reality. His grandfather. His grandfather that he probably didn't have much time with. "Right. Sorry. Lead the way," she smiled.
Stepping into the empty elevator, Tristan pressed the button and leaned back against the wall. "You awake yet?"
"Sort of," she stifled a yawn and grinned. "Your grandfather knows I'm here, right?"
"Couldn't wait to meet you," he nodded.
"Ah, so you've told him about me."
"What? You think he hasn't heard of my little Mary?"
"Great," she rolled her eyes. "That's not a good sign."
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Stepping off, Tristan navigated his way to room 446. Glancing back to see Rory hesitantly making following him, he raised his eyebrows silently.
"Is he-I mean, how do I-"she started, not at all impressed with her own capabilities of speech.
"He's able to walk on his own, he's alert and aware of what's going on around him, and act like yourself. He'll appreciate that more that acting like an average Chiltonite. He's not exactly your average man of power."
"Ok, that I can do." She felt him give her hand a small squeeze as he raised his fist to knock on the door. When the call told them they could enter, she watched him turn the knob, not sure what to expect from the man on the other side.
"Grandfather, are you in here?" Tristan pulled Rory gently into the room.
"In here." They followed the voice into the sitting room of the suite. Rory giggled when she saw the older gentleman sitting on the couch in a Harvard sweatshirt and fuzzy slippers. He lifted the afghan from his legs to reveal plaid flannel pajama pants.
"Not quite what you were expecting dear?" He smiled warmly at Rory.
"No, not exactly."
"Please, sit down, I have fresh coffee waiting for you."
"Ooh! A family of Gods!" She grinned like the Cheshire cat and sank down on the couch.
"I see you weren't exaggerating." Janlen Dugrey hugged his grandson and returned to his previous position.
"She's almost as bad as her mother." Tristan laughed and sat down next to her.
"It's nice to finally meet you, sir." Rory smiled shyly at the men around her.
"Please, call me Janlen." He poured three cups of coffee and handed the teens their cups. "So Rory tell me about yourself?"
"There's not much to tell." She shrugged.
"I doubt that. Where are you planning on going to school?"
"Harvard."
He clapped happily. "I was a Harvard man myself." He chuckled and looked at his grandson. "I think I finally convinced Tristan not to follow his father down the evil path to Yale."
"Where are you going then? I always figured you would go to Yale." Rory looked over at Tristan.
"I'm going to Harvard." He smirked at her shocked look. "Think you can handle sharing the campus with me for four years, Mary?"
"Down boy. It's a big campus, I am sure you can find some cheerleaders to flaunt your cavalier attitude in front of without interference from me. I on the other hand will most likely be in the library, we can't all get by on our self perceived good looks can we? What ever will you do when you realize you aren't as good looking as you think you are?"
An explosion of laughter erupted from Janlen. "Tristan my boy. I love this girl! Finally you have met someone who can keep you in your place when I am gone." There was a boyish charm in the old man's smile that reminded Rory of Tristan.
"You would find it funny," Tristan grumbled to his grandfather. His expression sobered slightly when he noticed his grandfather yawn. "Do you need to take a nap before we go to lunch?"
"Yes, I do believe I do. Price you pay for getting old my dear." He smiled at Rory as he set down his coffee.
"A nap sounds like a plan to me." She smiled and stood up.
"What you didn't sleep long enough on the plane?" Tristan smirked and stood also.
"It's not my fault they served that mockery of coffee. It was instant for crying out loud." She smacked his arm for emphasis.
"Call us when you wake up and we will meet you for lunch, okay Grandfather?" He walked over to plant a kiss on the older man's cheek.
"Get out of here you two. You're making me feel like a relic."
"Well you are priceless." Rory giggled taking in his wardrobe once again.
"Ah, quick one isn't she?" He smiled approvingly at his grandson's love interest. This one was powerful enough to change him for the better. He had already witnessed the beginnings of those transformations, now he just needed to stir the pot.
"Unfortunately, yes." Tristan led her over to the door. "We'll be right down the hall if you need anything." Grabbing her hand and shaking off the surprise that she didn't pull away, Tristan led Rory down the corridor to their rooms.
"Quite the interesting character," she commented with a smile.
"You have no idea," Tristan agreed, shaking his head with a laugh. "He's a saving grace when you grow up in an empty house, though."
"Well, if you ever need someone eccentric, I'm sure my mom would be a good substitute."
"No kidding. She's twice as odd as he is. Well, here you are, safe and sound at your door. I've done my duty and seen the lady safely home, is there anything else you need?"
"Real coffee."
"You just had some."
"Your point being?"
Tristan opened his mouth to respond, then waved his hand through the air and shook his head. "Never mind. I planned ahead on that one and made sure there was a coffee maker in your room-"
"Really? Yay!" she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek happily.
"Lord, you're addicted," he muttered, placing his hands on her waist while she continued to hop up and down. "We're getting a weird look from one of the maids," he whispered in her ear as he saw the woman looking them up and down before opening the door to the room she was about to clean.
"Oh-right," she blushed, removing her arms from around his neck and stepping back.
"I so made you blush!" There it was, that annoying little smirk.
"Did not."
"Did to."
"Did not."
"Did to."
"Did-"she stopped and closed her eyes. "Do you have any idea how immature we sound?"
"Yep," he readily admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We seem to bring that out in each other."
"Which bodes well for this week."
"Ah, admit it, you're thrilled to be in a faraway place with me."
"Thank God this is a big hotel." She rolled her eyes, sometimes he could be so exasperating.
"Yes, but our rooms connect to each other."
"What?" she shrieked, earning another look from the maid who was wheeling her cart into the room.
"Yeah, meant to tell you that before. They were the only rooms left."
"In the entire hotel?" she questioned.
"No, on this floor and I wanted to be close to Grandfather and figured you'd probably want access to us if you needed anything."
"Us?"
"Well, you were bound to like him and if you're mad at me, you can always go to him," he shrugged.
"Fine, fine. There's a lock on this door, right?" At his nod, she continued. "Ok, we'll both forget it's there and it'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a coffee maker calling my name. See you later, Tris."
"Bye, Kitten," he smirked. She shook her head, but smiled as she unlocked her door and entered. Tristan took three steps to his own door and promptly went in, going to the adjoining door to check the lock. If she found out that all he had to do was twist the knob a certain way to disarm it, she'd kill him!
Tristan settled back on his bed and flipped on the TV only to be disturbed by loud swearing coming from the next room. Moving quickly he knocked on the door separating the two of and waited impatiently for her to open it. "Rory what's wrong?"
She opened the door looking slightly frazzled and greatly annoyed. "My mother is so dead when we get back." She huffed and turned back into her room.
"What did she do?"
"Stole my coffee." She grumbled as she tossed clothes into the dresser.
"You have coffee here." He pointed to the ample supply on the dresser.
"Not Luke's coffee. He gave me a bag so I wouldn't miss home too much and the wench stole it right out of my suitcase. I knew I should have suspected something when she decided to pack for me. That evil little troll." She was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.
Chuckling slightly Tristan began to brew a pot of coffee while her tirade raged on.
"After all the times I've done things for her, all the trips for coffee I've made for her and she does this! I can't believe her." She slammed her toiletry bag on the counter of the bathroom and stomped back into the room.
Tristan handed her a mug full of steaming brew and watched as she chugged it. "Ooh, hot." Setting the mug down on the dresser she flopped over on her bed. "She hates me. She lashing out at me for leaving her, like a puppy." Filling another cup, he moved to sit next to her on the bed an hauled her into sitting position. "At least she didn't chew on your favorite slippers."
"I wouldn't put it past her." She took the offered cup and downed it. "Thank you." She yawned happily as the liquid warmed her insides.
"Better now?"
"Crisis averted. You might just survive this week yet." She leaned back against him and sighed heavily. "I'm going to kill her."
"No, you're not. You're going to call Luke and have him cut off her supply for a day or two." Tristan handed her his cell phone.
"Ooh, evil, I like it." She called the diner and filled Luke in on her predicament and he swore to make her mother suffer for a day or two. "Ha! Take that you green meanie!" She shouted at the phone.
"I don't think she can hear you." He laughed and took the phone back.
"There you go with that logic again. Stop it, it's not healthy." She yawned again, softly like a small purr.
"Whatever you say, Kitten." He heard her scowl but she didn't move away from him. Stretching out next to her on the bed he had to smile when her sleepy form curled alongside his body. He knew she was tired when she rested her head on his chest, if she was fully alert that never would have happened.
Rory's tiny smile, however, contradicted his theory on just how awake she was. Curling closer to him to rest her head on his chest, she waited until his arm came to pull her closer and hold her tightly in place. Letting him keep his theory, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. Since when was the enemy such a comfy pillow? Allowing the feeling to wash over her, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.
Waiting until he was sure she was asleep, Tristan turned his head to kiss her hair before closing his own eyes. TV could wait. It was rare that Rory would actually relax so completely around him. The fact that she was even here still amazed him. Yeah, they were on the road to friendship and could actually have a civilized conversation, but this? Nope, the woman would never cease to surprise him. The dull ringing of his cell phone disturbed the quiet and he quickly fumbled through his pocket to shut it up. Clicking it on, he looked down to be sure she was still asleep. She was. "Yeah?"
"Well, my boy, you've outdone yourself!" the voice boomed.
A sigh. "Aren't you supposed to be napping?" he asked the old man with a smile.
"Napping? When I have your love life to interfere in? Never!" the old man told him adamantly. Sometimes his grandson could be so dense.
"Hold on." Tristan reluctantly slid out from under Rory and walked back into his own room. Knowing Janlen, this was bound to be an animated conversation and he really didn't want her waking up to hear it.
"I will not hold on. I want details," Janlen huffed.
"Yeah, well, she's asleep and right now I want her that way."
There was a pause. "She's asleep?"
"Yes."
"In your room?"
"No, I'm on my way out of her room."
"Moving kind of quickly, aren't we?" The teasing tone didn't escape Tristan, but first he had to get some distance between him and the vixen sleeping peacefully.
"No, I'm not," he shut the door dividing their rooms. "She was mad at her mom and I helped her plot revenge, then she fell asleep. End of story."
"With you? I doubt it," he snorted. Did his grandson think he was blind simply because he was old?
"Why did I want to get a cell phone that worked here again?"
"Quit changing the subject. You've finally found a girl who's a woman, not a puppet sitting around having her nails done. Now I know how you found her, I also know how you lost her, what I want to know now is how you got her here."
"Well, you wanted to make a last trip here, I didn't want to come alone, and you're not doing so well. She agreed to come for moral support."
"You make it sound like I'm at death's door," the challenge was obvious in his voice.
"Minor exaggeration," Tristan admitted evasively.
"I may be old, I may be sick, but I'm not leaving until you're done being raised and that hasn't happened yet. How much did you 'exaggerate' with her?"
"Not that much, actually. I told her you were ill, wanted to make one last trip and I didn't know how long I had with you. You are ill, you don't plan on coming back here again, and I don't know how long I have with you."
"You should be a lawyer."
"Wouldn't my father be thrilled?!"
"I take it back, you should be in a circus."
"So how much do you think I stretched the truth?"
"Not too much, it would seem. Just enough to get what you wanted."
"A flaw in my character."
"Well, in all truth, I could very well go tomorrow-"
"Grandfather!"
"SO, you're off the hook with me."
"Great to know." Tristan rolled his eyes.
"Tell me more about this little spit fire you've got. I like her!"
"Which is good cause she really likes you, too."
"Did she scream about the rooms?" he chuckled.
"Sort of. I told her there was a lock on it and she relaxed." The humpf on the other end of the line came through loud and clear. "What? There is a lock!" he insisted indignantly.
"Yes, but Tristan, I know you. You pull pranks for entertainment. You break into safes, rent a crane and lift your father's favorite car to the roof of a building, and stop smirking, you cement the headmaster's honorary man of the year award into the gas station's wall-"
"Alright, I get it, Grandfather. What's your point?"
"Simply that not only do you pull pranks, you pull elaborate pranks. Picking locks is like opening a jar for you. The talent of a delinquent youth, if you will. That lock won't keep her safe from you if you get it in your head that you want in her room."
"What she doesn't know, she can't scream about."
"Or know to prop a chair against her door."
"Don't advise her to do that."
"She may need to in order to be safe from you."
"Yes, because I'm going to sneak into her room and have my way with her while she's asleep," Tristan said tauntingly.
"Very well, I won't say anything to her."
"Much appreciated."
"Tris?" a sleepy, almost inaudible voice called from the other room.
"I gotta go," he told the older man hastily. "Nap and we'll come by for you later." Without waiting for a response, he hung up and tossed the phone on his dresser. Opening the door, he saw Rory sitting up on the bed. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were sleepy, and she seemed utterly confused by his disappearance. "You ok?"
"Yeah, I just didn't know where you went." She fell back on the bed and curled into a fetal position.
"Aww, you missed me."
She opened her eyes to glare at the boy sitting down on her bed. "No, I was simply making sure you weren't rifling through my underwear drawer or something. Wouldn't put it past you."
"Whatever you say, Mary."
"Ugh!" She pulled her pillow over her head and tried to ignore the tapping on her side. After the tapping turned to tickling, she yanked her arm down and let out a giggle that somehow managed to sound infuriated. "Cut it out!" Slapping his hand away, she waited until it returned to grab a hold of his wrist. Caught slightly off balance, he fell forward and narrowly missed landing on her by planting his hands on either side of her head.
There was a moment of silence before he broke it, his voice low and husky. "Not exactly a position I would have expected you to put us in. I thought I'd be the one to land us like this."
"Ignoring the fact that I have only murderous thoughts toward you right now?" she managed to gasp out, her breath coming in broken interludes.
"Kitten, the look in your eyes has nothing to do with bloodthirst," he told her simply, leaning down to gently nip her earlobe before forcing himself to leave the bed and walk away from her.
When the door shut behind him, she pulled herself onto shaky legs and went to lock the door. Leaning back against it, she whispered quietly, "He is so arrogant-and so damned right."
"Come on, Ror. You gotta get up, we're there." No response. "Rory!" Silence. After another shake, her arms moved out to stretch as she yawned and curled into a small ball. The content, sleepy smile she wore was truly reminiscent of a kitten. However, she failed to wake. Swearing under his breath, he slid a hand beneath her knees and another behind her back, bringing her against him suddenly. Moving out to the aisle, he carried her to the stairs and set her to her feet, keeping his hands on her arms. Dipping her forward slightly, he smiled as her eyes flew open. "That's more like it." She turned her head enough to glare at him. "We're here!" he stated.
"I noticed," she mumbled, almost incoherent. Her body still sagged and he moved to stand next to her, one hand still firmly holding her arm.
"Come on, Kitten."
"Kitten?" her delicately raised brows seconded her question.
"You look like a kitten when you're asleep, you stretch and curl in a ball, you have your definite likes and dislikes-"
"So, basically I'm feline?"
"A baby feline," he corrected.
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Where's your grandfather?"
"Already at the hotel. He flew in last night. Somehow I didn't think your mom would go for that."
"Probably not."
The ride to the hotel was short and fairly silent, with Rory excitedly watching the passing scenes out the window and Tristan quietly observing her. After checking in and getting the keys to their rooms, Tristan took one of Rory's hands and had to practically drag her up the stairs.
"You could help here," he commented.
"Eh, stop! I'm looking," she complained. And she was. At everything. Each piece of furniture, picture and floral arrangement had her rapt attention.
"My grandfather's waiting for us in his room," he said gently.
The gentle reminder brought her back to reality. His grandfather. His grandfather that he probably didn't have much time with. "Right. Sorry. Lead the way," she smiled.
Stepping into the empty elevator, Tristan pressed the button and leaned back against the wall. "You awake yet?"
"Sort of," she stifled a yawn and grinned. "Your grandfather knows I'm here, right?"
"Couldn't wait to meet you," he nodded.
"Ah, so you've told him about me."
"What? You think he hasn't heard of my little Mary?"
"Great," she rolled her eyes. "That's not a good sign."
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Stepping off, Tristan navigated his way to room 446. Glancing back to see Rory hesitantly making following him, he raised his eyebrows silently.
"Is he-I mean, how do I-"she started, not at all impressed with her own capabilities of speech.
"He's able to walk on his own, he's alert and aware of what's going on around him, and act like yourself. He'll appreciate that more that acting like an average Chiltonite. He's not exactly your average man of power."
"Ok, that I can do." She felt him give her hand a small squeeze as he raised his fist to knock on the door. When the call told them they could enter, she watched him turn the knob, not sure what to expect from the man on the other side.
"Grandfather, are you in here?" Tristan pulled Rory gently into the room.
"In here." They followed the voice into the sitting room of the suite. Rory giggled when she saw the older gentleman sitting on the couch in a Harvard sweatshirt and fuzzy slippers. He lifted the afghan from his legs to reveal plaid flannel pajama pants.
"Not quite what you were expecting dear?" He smiled warmly at Rory.
"No, not exactly."
"Please, sit down, I have fresh coffee waiting for you."
"Ooh! A family of Gods!" She grinned like the Cheshire cat and sank down on the couch.
"I see you weren't exaggerating." Janlen Dugrey hugged his grandson and returned to his previous position.
"She's almost as bad as her mother." Tristan laughed and sat down next to her.
"It's nice to finally meet you, sir." Rory smiled shyly at the men around her.
"Please, call me Janlen." He poured three cups of coffee and handed the teens their cups. "So Rory tell me about yourself?"
"There's not much to tell." She shrugged.
"I doubt that. Where are you planning on going to school?"
"Harvard."
He clapped happily. "I was a Harvard man myself." He chuckled and looked at his grandson. "I think I finally convinced Tristan not to follow his father down the evil path to Yale."
"Where are you going then? I always figured you would go to Yale." Rory looked over at Tristan.
"I'm going to Harvard." He smirked at her shocked look. "Think you can handle sharing the campus with me for four years, Mary?"
"Down boy. It's a big campus, I am sure you can find some cheerleaders to flaunt your cavalier attitude in front of without interference from me. I on the other hand will most likely be in the library, we can't all get by on our self perceived good looks can we? What ever will you do when you realize you aren't as good looking as you think you are?"
An explosion of laughter erupted from Janlen. "Tristan my boy. I love this girl! Finally you have met someone who can keep you in your place when I am gone." There was a boyish charm in the old man's smile that reminded Rory of Tristan.
"You would find it funny," Tristan grumbled to his grandfather. His expression sobered slightly when he noticed his grandfather yawn. "Do you need to take a nap before we go to lunch?"
"Yes, I do believe I do. Price you pay for getting old my dear." He smiled at Rory as he set down his coffee.
"A nap sounds like a plan to me." She smiled and stood up.
"What you didn't sleep long enough on the plane?" Tristan smirked and stood also.
"It's not my fault they served that mockery of coffee. It was instant for crying out loud." She smacked his arm for emphasis.
"Call us when you wake up and we will meet you for lunch, okay Grandfather?" He walked over to plant a kiss on the older man's cheek.
"Get out of here you two. You're making me feel like a relic."
"Well you are priceless." Rory giggled taking in his wardrobe once again.
"Ah, quick one isn't she?" He smiled approvingly at his grandson's love interest. This one was powerful enough to change him for the better. He had already witnessed the beginnings of those transformations, now he just needed to stir the pot.
"Unfortunately, yes." Tristan led her over to the door. "We'll be right down the hall if you need anything." Grabbing her hand and shaking off the surprise that she didn't pull away, Tristan led Rory down the corridor to their rooms.
"Quite the interesting character," she commented with a smile.
"You have no idea," Tristan agreed, shaking his head with a laugh. "He's a saving grace when you grow up in an empty house, though."
"Well, if you ever need someone eccentric, I'm sure my mom would be a good substitute."
"No kidding. She's twice as odd as he is. Well, here you are, safe and sound at your door. I've done my duty and seen the lady safely home, is there anything else you need?"
"Real coffee."
"You just had some."
"Your point being?"
Tristan opened his mouth to respond, then waved his hand through the air and shook his head. "Never mind. I planned ahead on that one and made sure there was a coffee maker in your room-"
"Really? Yay!" she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek happily.
"Lord, you're addicted," he muttered, placing his hands on her waist while she continued to hop up and down. "We're getting a weird look from one of the maids," he whispered in her ear as he saw the woman looking them up and down before opening the door to the room she was about to clean.
"Oh-right," she blushed, removing her arms from around his neck and stepping back.
"I so made you blush!" There it was, that annoying little smirk.
"Did not."
"Did to."
"Did not."
"Did to."
"Did-"she stopped and closed her eyes. "Do you have any idea how immature we sound?"
"Yep," he readily admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We seem to bring that out in each other."
"Which bodes well for this week."
"Ah, admit it, you're thrilled to be in a faraway place with me."
"Thank God this is a big hotel." She rolled her eyes, sometimes he could be so exasperating.
"Yes, but our rooms connect to each other."
"What?" she shrieked, earning another look from the maid who was wheeling her cart into the room.
"Yeah, meant to tell you that before. They were the only rooms left."
"In the entire hotel?" she questioned.
"No, on this floor and I wanted to be close to Grandfather and figured you'd probably want access to us if you needed anything."
"Us?"
"Well, you were bound to like him and if you're mad at me, you can always go to him," he shrugged.
"Fine, fine. There's a lock on this door, right?" At his nod, she continued. "Ok, we'll both forget it's there and it'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a coffee maker calling my name. See you later, Tris."
"Bye, Kitten," he smirked. She shook her head, but smiled as she unlocked her door and entered. Tristan took three steps to his own door and promptly went in, going to the adjoining door to check the lock. If she found out that all he had to do was twist the knob a certain way to disarm it, she'd kill him!
Tristan settled back on his bed and flipped on the TV only to be disturbed by loud swearing coming from the next room. Moving quickly he knocked on the door separating the two of and waited impatiently for her to open it. "Rory what's wrong?"
She opened the door looking slightly frazzled and greatly annoyed. "My mother is so dead when we get back." She huffed and turned back into her room.
"What did she do?"
"Stole my coffee." She grumbled as she tossed clothes into the dresser.
"You have coffee here." He pointed to the ample supply on the dresser.
"Not Luke's coffee. He gave me a bag so I wouldn't miss home too much and the wench stole it right out of my suitcase. I knew I should have suspected something when she decided to pack for me. That evil little troll." She was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.
Chuckling slightly Tristan began to brew a pot of coffee while her tirade raged on.
"After all the times I've done things for her, all the trips for coffee I've made for her and she does this! I can't believe her." She slammed her toiletry bag on the counter of the bathroom and stomped back into the room.
Tristan handed her a mug full of steaming brew and watched as she chugged it. "Ooh, hot." Setting the mug down on the dresser she flopped over on her bed. "She hates me. She lashing out at me for leaving her, like a puppy." Filling another cup, he moved to sit next to her on the bed an hauled her into sitting position. "At least she didn't chew on your favorite slippers."
"I wouldn't put it past her." She took the offered cup and downed it. "Thank you." She yawned happily as the liquid warmed her insides.
"Better now?"
"Crisis averted. You might just survive this week yet." She leaned back against him and sighed heavily. "I'm going to kill her."
"No, you're not. You're going to call Luke and have him cut off her supply for a day or two." Tristan handed her his cell phone.
"Ooh, evil, I like it." She called the diner and filled Luke in on her predicament and he swore to make her mother suffer for a day or two. "Ha! Take that you green meanie!" She shouted at the phone.
"I don't think she can hear you." He laughed and took the phone back.
"There you go with that logic again. Stop it, it's not healthy." She yawned again, softly like a small purr.
"Whatever you say, Kitten." He heard her scowl but she didn't move away from him. Stretching out next to her on the bed he had to smile when her sleepy form curled alongside his body. He knew she was tired when she rested her head on his chest, if she was fully alert that never would have happened.
Rory's tiny smile, however, contradicted his theory on just how awake she was. Curling closer to him to rest her head on his chest, she waited until his arm came to pull her closer and hold her tightly in place. Letting him keep his theory, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. Since when was the enemy such a comfy pillow? Allowing the feeling to wash over her, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.
Waiting until he was sure she was asleep, Tristan turned his head to kiss her hair before closing his own eyes. TV could wait. It was rare that Rory would actually relax so completely around him. The fact that she was even here still amazed him. Yeah, they were on the road to friendship and could actually have a civilized conversation, but this? Nope, the woman would never cease to surprise him. The dull ringing of his cell phone disturbed the quiet and he quickly fumbled through his pocket to shut it up. Clicking it on, he looked down to be sure she was still asleep. She was. "Yeah?"
"Well, my boy, you've outdone yourself!" the voice boomed.
A sigh. "Aren't you supposed to be napping?" he asked the old man with a smile.
"Napping? When I have your love life to interfere in? Never!" the old man told him adamantly. Sometimes his grandson could be so dense.
"Hold on." Tristan reluctantly slid out from under Rory and walked back into his own room. Knowing Janlen, this was bound to be an animated conversation and he really didn't want her waking up to hear it.
"I will not hold on. I want details," Janlen huffed.
"Yeah, well, she's asleep and right now I want her that way."
There was a pause. "She's asleep?"
"Yes."
"In your room?"
"No, I'm on my way out of her room."
"Moving kind of quickly, aren't we?" The teasing tone didn't escape Tristan, but first he had to get some distance between him and the vixen sleeping peacefully.
"No, I'm not," he shut the door dividing their rooms. "She was mad at her mom and I helped her plot revenge, then she fell asleep. End of story."
"With you? I doubt it," he snorted. Did his grandson think he was blind simply because he was old?
"Why did I want to get a cell phone that worked here again?"
"Quit changing the subject. You've finally found a girl who's a woman, not a puppet sitting around having her nails done. Now I know how you found her, I also know how you lost her, what I want to know now is how you got her here."
"Well, you wanted to make a last trip here, I didn't want to come alone, and you're not doing so well. She agreed to come for moral support."
"You make it sound like I'm at death's door," the challenge was obvious in his voice.
"Minor exaggeration," Tristan admitted evasively.
"I may be old, I may be sick, but I'm not leaving until you're done being raised and that hasn't happened yet. How much did you 'exaggerate' with her?"
"Not that much, actually. I told her you were ill, wanted to make one last trip and I didn't know how long I had with you. You are ill, you don't plan on coming back here again, and I don't know how long I have with you."
"You should be a lawyer."
"Wouldn't my father be thrilled?!"
"I take it back, you should be in a circus."
"So how much do you think I stretched the truth?"
"Not too much, it would seem. Just enough to get what you wanted."
"A flaw in my character."
"Well, in all truth, I could very well go tomorrow-"
"Grandfather!"
"SO, you're off the hook with me."
"Great to know." Tristan rolled his eyes.
"Tell me more about this little spit fire you've got. I like her!"
"Which is good cause she really likes you, too."
"Did she scream about the rooms?" he chuckled.
"Sort of. I told her there was a lock on it and she relaxed." The humpf on the other end of the line came through loud and clear. "What? There is a lock!" he insisted indignantly.
"Yes, but Tristan, I know you. You pull pranks for entertainment. You break into safes, rent a crane and lift your father's favorite car to the roof of a building, and stop smirking, you cement the headmaster's honorary man of the year award into the gas station's wall-"
"Alright, I get it, Grandfather. What's your point?"
"Simply that not only do you pull pranks, you pull elaborate pranks. Picking locks is like opening a jar for you. The talent of a delinquent youth, if you will. That lock won't keep her safe from you if you get it in your head that you want in her room."
"What she doesn't know, she can't scream about."
"Or know to prop a chair against her door."
"Don't advise her to do that."
"She may need to in order to be safe from you."
"Yes, because I'm going to sneak into her room and have my way with her while she's asleep," Tristan said tauntingly.
"Very well, I won't say anything to her."
"Much appreciated."
"Tris?" a sleepy, almost inaudible voice called from the other room.
"I gotta go," he told the older man hastily. "Nap and we'll come by for you later." Without waiting for a response, he hung up and tossed the phone on his dresser. Opening the door, he saw Rory sitting up on the bed. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were sleepy, and she seemed utterly confused by his disappearance. "You ok?"
"Yeah, I just didn't know where you went." She fell back on the bed and curled into a fetal position.
"Aww, you missed me."
She opened her eyes to glare at the boy sitting down on her bed. "No, I was simply making sure you weren't rifling through my underwear drawer or something. Wouldn't put it past you."
"Whatever you say, Mary."
"Ugh!" She pulled her pillow over her head and tried to ignore the tapping on her side. After the tapping turned to tickling, she yanked her arm down and let out a giggle that somehow managed to sound infuriated. "Cut it out!" Slapping his hand away, she waited until it returned to grab a hold of his wrist. Caught slightly off balance, he fell forward and narrowly missed landing on her by planting his hands on either side of her head.
There was a moment of silence before he broke it, his voice low and husky. "Not exactly a position I would have expected you to put us in. I thought I'd be the one to land us like this."
"Ignoring the fact that I have only murderous thoughts toward you right now?" she managed to gasp out, her breath coming in broken interludes.
"Kitten, the look in your eyes has nothing to do with bloodthirst," he told her simply, leaning down to gently nip her earlobe before forcing himself to leave the bed and walk away from her.
When the door shut behind him, she pulled herself onto shaky legs and went to lock the door. Leaning back against it, she whispered quietly, "He is so arrogant-and so damned right."