Author: Summer
Title: Drain the Glass
Rating: PG-13, for now
Chapter Title: Christmas
Summary: When Rory Gilmore's broke, she's desperate enough to do anything- even be the nanny to the family of her roommate. But it's the blonde boy she runs into there that makes the story interesting…
Chapter Summary: The DuGrey family Christmas party
Disclaimer: Don't own Gilmore Girls, obviously. Um, own Jordan and the rest of the Danvers, as well as Sinclair, Amelie, Corina, and Julianna. Also don't own Procol Harum's One Eye on the Future, One Eye on the Past. Basically, I own nothing except my mind's eye. Yes, scary thought. ;)
Author's Note: To Joan. Because only she can truly understand what's so hot about a few swimmer 'friends.' Unfortunately, 's spacing system's acting screwy. Sorry for the weird format.
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Amelie had lent Rory a gown for the Christmas party, and as Rory stood at the top of the staircase and observed the guests, she was relieved she'd taken Amelie up on the offer.
The house had been transformed into something from a magazine, with decorations hanging from everywhere. The doorframes held mistletoe; red bows had replaced the window sashes, and garlands were draped at the top of the wall.
Hundreds of guests mulled about below, engaged in small talk or business conversations. All were dressed as if they were going to the Academy Awards immediately after the party, in evening gowns and tuxes.
Rory glanced down at her own gown. It was a deep green, cut low in the back so her skin was exposed. Three straps held the back together, and if that had been the style of the whole dress, Rory never would've worn it. But the front was much more modest. There was a slight scoop to the neckline, but it covered her breasts and gave her a taller, more elegant appearance.
"They don't bite," she heard Tristan whisper from behind her.
She turned her head to look at him. He was dressed more casually than most of the men, wearing a simple black suit. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, and Rory tried to clear her head. Tristan looked very good in a suit.
"You look gorgeous," Tristan said, his eyes sweeping over her.
She glanced at the floor, a bit embarrassed. "Thanks. You look nice, too."
"Care for an escort?" he asked, linking his arm through hers.
She blushed as his skin touched hers, but she managed to nod. She glanced around nervously as they descended. "Where's Amelie?"
"Mingling, entertaining the masses," he responded casually, letting go of her arm as they reached the floor. "I actually came up to tell you your mother and a few guests arrived. I told them I'd find you. They're in my study."
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Lorelai grinned as Rory appeared at the door. "Merry Christmas, hon!" she said, reaching out to hug her daughter.
Rory returned the embrace, glad to see her mother. "Merry Christmas." She turned to Luke, who looked uncomfortable in a tuxedo. "Thanks for coming, Luke."
"No problem," he responded, trying to smile. "Your mom told me I had to wear this."
"She's probably right."
"It's, uh, a big party out there," Luke nodded.
Lorelai laughed. "Reminds me of when I was growing up. Ror, did you know I went to the DuGrey Christmas part every single year until I got pregnant?"
Rory shook her head.
Lorelai sighed. "Well, I did. And I hated it then as much as I do now. It's just a bunch of people with too much money conversing over whether a bubblegum or toffee company is a better investment."
Rory laughed. "It's not that bad."
Lorelai raised an eyebrow. "Heard it with my own ears." She glanced out the door to where Tristan was talking with a few family friends. "He grew up into one hell of a calendar boy. Remind me why you didn't date him when you had the chance."
Rory cleared her throat, surprised by her mother's topic change. "Because he was rude and conceited and I had Dean."
"And we all know how that turned out," Lorelai laughed.
Rory shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to relive events that were still too recent for her to laugh about.
Luke seemed to notice her discomfort. "Where's the food at these parties?"
Rory smiled gratefully. "I'll show you."
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Normandy glanced up from her seat on the corner of her bed. "That's right," she responded coolly, crossing her legs.
Ethan sighed, giving up on the tie and turning his full attention to her. "Are you going to come see my mom and Lily?"
Normandy raised an eyebrow. "I saw them yesterday. When we went to the hospital with Tristan."
"I mean at home- at my house."
Normandy sighed, pulling herself to her feet. "Right. Maybe."
Ethan bit his lip. "This is the most you've talked to me in two days, you know."
She nodded. "Mmm-hmm."
"And I already apologized a dozen times."
"Yep."
"Can't we just go back to normal?"
Normandy was quiet for a minute, but she relaxed slightly. "Okay."
Ethan smiled. "Cool."
Normandy nodded, leaning forward a little. "So if things are back to normal, I get to do this," she muttered, reaching out her hand and yanking on his tie, effectively straightening it.
Ethan nodded, bringing a hand up to rub his neck. "I guess so."
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"Amelie, darling, you look like a million dollars. Where's your fiancé?" Mrs. Delacour asked.
Amelie smiled politely. "Thank you. And Tristan's around here somewhere. I saw him talking to the governor a few minutes ago."
"Ah. Fine boy. Does he plan on going into politics? I'm sure he'd be able to right this world."
Amelie raised an eyebrow. Anna Delacour had set up a scholarship for law students and aspiring politicians almost twenty years earlier, when her own son's dreams of Washington had been severed by a car accident that had taken his life. "It's a possibility," she answered smoothly. "There is a political history in his mother's family."
"Lovely boy, really. That smile alone could win an election." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Why do you think JFK became president?" she whispered.
Amelie frowned. "Because he was what the country needed at the time."
Mrs. Delacour shook her head. "Well, partly. But it was a televised campaign, darling. And John Fitzgerald Kennedy had a charisma much like your fianc's… and he wasn't exactly lacking in physical attractiveness either, was he?"
Amelie smiled. "I suppose not."
"Well, you'll have plenty of time once you're married to convince Tristan to think about that path, won't you?"
"I sup-"
"Think about what path?" Tristan asked, walking up to the two women and wrapping his arm casually around Amelie's waist.
"Mrs. Delacour was just telling me what a wonderful politician you'd make," Amelie said, a twinkle in her eyes.
Tristan nodded, turning his attention to Mrs. Delacour. "How's Michael been, Anna? Has he returned from his trip to France yet?"
"From what I've heard, he's doing quite well. And he's due back the 28th."
"Oh, I think I heard that somewhere." Tristan smiled, letting go of Amelie and linking his arm through Anna's. "And what have you been up to? My father tells me you've been doing a lot of work with some charities," he said as he led her away.
Amelie watched them go, a slight smile on her face. Tristan fit into this world with such ease, it sometimes surprised her. Where she herself had trouble making small talk, Tristan thrived in it.
She knew one day, they'd be hosting these parties- they'd be entertaining people such as the Delacours and the Harrisons and even the governor. Maybe even one day, they would be campaigning to the public, and Tristan would be some famous politician. She knew he planned to go to law school, but afterward he didn't even know what he wanted to do.
Amelie bit her lip. She just hoped that whatever Tristan decided to do, she'd be able to help him and be the perfect wife.
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Tristan had forgotten how much Anna Delacour could talk. He smiled and nodded when it seemed right, but otherwise toned her out. His eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face. There were hundreds of 'family friends,' if the term was used loosely.
Edward Kane, whose business had been bought out by Mr. Ashford, stood with his wife and teenage daughters by the tree, talking to Dr. Gerald Nardor, who had given Mr. Ashford's distant cousin a liver transplant five years before. James T. Reading, a college roommate of Mr. Ashford, stood awkwardly by the caterer's table, every so often waving to someone.
He looked around for his sisters, but they were nowhere to be found. He turned toward the stairs, deciding to check their rooms. He knew it was hard for them- it was, after all, Christmas, and Normandy and Emilie's day was crafted around the social event of the year. It wasn't a fun day to be young.
He climbed the stairs quickly, eager to be away from the party. He turned the corner to Emilie's room. Her door was partly open. He stood outside it for a moment, listening.
"And this is for you. By the way, you're hard to shop for," he heard Rory saying.
He pulled the door open a bit more, peeking inside. Normandy was unwrapping a small package, and Emilie and Ethan were sitting on the bed. Emilie was hugging a stuffed bear, its fur white and wearing a green suit decorated with Christmas ornaments. Ethan's was holding a package, still wrapped, on his lap.
Tristan eased open the door, stepping into the room. "What did you get, Normandy?" he asked, making his presence known.
"The Bell Jar," she said, holding up a hardcover book. She gave Rory a quick hug. "Thank you."
Tristan's eyes widened, and Rory looked just as surprised by Normandy's uncharacteristic affection. She recovered quickly though, clearing her throat and glancing up at Tristan. "Party die down yet?"
Tristan shook his head. "Nah. I came up to escape it. And to see some of the most beautiful girls in the world."
He'd meant to refer to Normandy and Emilie, but the words rung between them as Tristan gazed at her. She did look beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a simple knot and the dress clung to all her curves. Her skin was flushed and her eyes bright. He found himself staring at her and blinked quickly. "Uh…"
Rory stood up suddenly. "I, uh, was just about to go back downstairs. I'll see you later."
He nodded as she brushed past him. "Okay."
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"I thought I'd find you up here. Have fun?"
Rory looked over to Amelie, who stood at her bedroom door. "The party's over?"
Amelie laughed. "This party never officially ends, I swear. There's still people downstairs, but a lot have gone home. Have you seen Tristan?"
"Not for a couple hours," Rory answered. "You can come in."
"Okay." Amelie walked further into the room. "He's been a little distant lately. I think he's getting nervous."
"Why would you think that?" Rory answered as calmly as she could, remembering her conversation with Tristan a couple days earlier.
"Oh, I don't know. He's just been acting strangely. I hope he's okay." Amelie smiled. "That dress looks really good on you, by the way."
Rory glanced down at the dress. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Amelie sat down on the corner of Rory's bed. "I met your mom today, by the way. She's very nice."
"And crazy," Rory added. "She's not, uh, very good at these parties. What did she say?"
"Nothing too strange. Except she introduced herself as a vicious trollop."
"Uh…"
"It was kind of funny, actually. The woman who was standing next to her- Emily, your grandmother, I think- kind of glared at her. They seem pretty close."
"A few drinks will do that to you."
Amelie laughed. "I should get back downstairs. If you see Tristan…"
"I'll tell him you were looking for him," Rory smiled.
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It was almost 10:00 when Tristan knocked on Rory's door. He heard her mumble something from inside, but couldn't make out the words. He knocked again.
"I told you to come in-" Rory started, swinging open the door. "Tristan."
She'd changed into a black sweatshirt and gray drawstring pants. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, and Tristan realized she'd probably been getting ready for bed. "Hi."
"Amelie came looking for you a while ago. She told me you'd disappeared."
"I, uh, went for a run," he offered, realizing how absurd the words sounded as soon as he said them.
Rory nodded, clearly not buying it. "In this?" she asked, gesturing to her window. There was two feet of snow on the ground, and it had started snowing again at some point this afternoon.
"Yeah?" he half-asked, half-stated, wondering how he could recover.
"Okay," Rory said, letting him slide. "Why are you here?"
"Oh." Tristan paused. "I realized I forgot to give you your present before the party started this morning."
Rory's expression softened. "Oh."
"Yeah… Uh, I actually snuck it into your room earlier."
Rory glanced around but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. "Okay."
"It's in your closet," Tristan explained, leaning against her doorframe.
"Oh, okay." Rory walked over to her closet and picked up a small package from the floor. It was wrapped in simple brown paper, with a single red rose on top. She took the rose off and tore the paper carefully. Inside was a wooden box, carefully carved and professionally finished. A golden clasp closed it. Rory glanced up curiously, meeting his gaze. She opened the box and smiled slightly, pulling out an old hardcover book. "Wow," she breathed, running her hands over the cover.
"Anna Karenina. First edition," Tristan explained. "I know you like to read so I thought…"
"It's perfect, she said, setting the book down. She smiled, walking over to him. "Thank you," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
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Rory's hair smelled like coconut. Tristan hugged her back tentatively, knowing close contact with Rory Gilmore was the last thing he needed right now.
"It's perfect," she repeated, pulling away.
As she fell silent, Tristan frowned. She wouldn't meet his gaze. As his mind furiously went over everything he had done and said, looking for where he could've made her uncomfortable, he realized how tense she'd become, and how her eyes kept flitting over his head.
He followed her gaze, his heart racing with understanding as he looked above the doorframe. Mistletoe. "Uh," he cleared his throat.
Rory bit her lip, taking a step back. "We don't have-"
Tristan shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal, is it. It's not-" He knew he was lying even as he spoke. It was a big deal, but he couldn't admit that to himself. Not with Amelie right downstairs.
Rory shook her head quickly. "It's just… you."
Tristan nodded. "Yeah." He took a step closer. "And you're just-"
"Yeah."
As Rory's lips parted, Tristan caught them with his own. The kiss started gently as Tristan wrapped Rory in his arms. She returned it with a surprising intensity, and he deepened the kiss, her hands against the back of his head as she pulled him closer. She let out a small sigh as his tongue entered her mouth. He backed her up against the doorframe, reveling in the feel of her body flush against his own.
She pushed him away suddenly, her cheeks crimson and her breathing heavy. "Um…"
"Yeah," Tristan said, her nervousness snapping him back to reality and a wave of guilt washing over him. "I have to go."
"Yeah."
He was barely out of the room when she shut the door behind him. ,