Author: Summer
Title: Drain the Glass
Rating: PG-13, for now
Chapter Title: This Is The New Year
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: New Years and the return of a familiar letter
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. Don't own Death Cab for Cutie's "The New Year" either. Basically, I own nothing except my mind's eye. Yes, scary thought. ;)
Author's Note: To Joan. Because she's still the only one I can bounce ideas off of when it comes to this story, and she's been there for me through it all.
Some of the more FAQs: Normandy's nine. Amelie did not cheat on Tristan. This is a Trory. I'm not just going to abandon Amelie's character.
Feedback: Is obviously appreciated. Thanks.
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So this is the new year / And I have no resolutions
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Tristan pulled away slowly, his gaze heavy. "That probably wasn't... we shouldn't have done that," he murmured.
Rory nodded, her eyes still focused on Tristan's bottom lip. "No..." she trailed off as she felt Tristan's arm on her back, pulling her closer. "We should-"
Her words were cut off as Tristan pulled her to him, his mouth already seeking hers. She returned the kiss hungrily, and it was nothing like the first one as his lips worked fervidly over hers. There was no hesitation, no gentleness, no uncertainty.
There was a creak and they sprang apart as the door opened, faces flushed and breathing heavy as they turned toward the door.
"Hey,
Rory? I was just..." Normandy trailed off, looking from Rory to Tristan
and back. She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at
her brother. "I'm thinking I'm not the one who needs to explain
anything."
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Six Hours Earlier
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Tristan had been only slightly surprised when Jordan cornered him
shortly after arriving for New Years' dinner. "I need to talk to you,"
she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the dining room.
"Um..." Tristan started as he let himself be led into the old art studio. He knew what this was about, or at least he thought he did. Jordan hadn't touched her wine, and Jordan was never one to pass on a free drink. She'd paled when the turkey had come out, and excused herself quickly after dinner. "What's up?" he asked indulgently, letting Jordan work up to it at her own speed.
"How do you know something's up?" she snapped quickly, and then, noticing what she'd done, laughed. "Sorry. I'm just... hormonal."
"No kidding.""Huh?"
"Uh, nothing. You still haven't told me what's going on."
Jordan crossed her arms over her stomach. "And you haven't told me how you know something's going on."
Tristan shrugged. "Well, you're acting kind of weird..."
"Fine," Jordan pouted. She narrowed her eyes, studying him critically. "I'm pregnant," she said as she exhaled, looking up at him timidly.
"Congratulations," Tristan said flatly.
Jordan frowned. "Wait! What? That's all you have to say?"
Tristan raised an eyebrow. "What else do you want me to say?"
Jordan shook her head. "Nothing. I just expected you to be more... surprised. Wait! Are you calling me a slut?"
"No," Tristan laughed. "Have you told Mom?"
"I'm kind of dreading it. It's just another thing for her to add to her list of reasons of why I'm the stupid, reckless twin."
"Well, Jordan, I think it's going to be a little hard for you to hide it a year from now, when you come to dinner with a baby."
"Maybe I just won't come?"
"Jor..."
Jordan sighed. "Yeah, you're right; I know. I just don't want to," she said, running a hand through her long blonde hair.
Tristan offered her a small smile. "Jor?"
"Yeah?"
"Congratulations," he said, enveloping his twin in a hug, "You'll be a great mom."
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"I don't really get the point of the kiss at midnight," Amelie said, leaning back into the couch, "I mean, who would really believe it automatically starts the year off right? Do all those high school girls who kiss their boyfriends at midnight end up with them for the rest of the next year?"
Rory laughed. "Not usually."
Jordan shrugged. "I think it's kind of sweet, actually. And it's just an excuse to kiss, anyway. Why not?"
Normandy, who'd been sitting silently in an armchair, shook her head. "It's paranoia. It's become a superstition, almost. Like kissing under the mistletoe." Rory shifted uncomfortably as Normandy caught her gaze. "There's nothing that forces you to do it, but you do it anyway. Because you worry about what will happen if you don't."
Amelie smiled. "That actually makes a lot of sense."
Tristan yawned, wrapping an arm loosely around Amelie's shoulders. "I don't know. I think a kiss is just a kiss, no matter when or where or how it happens. I mean, isn't blaming a kiss on the mistletoe just an excuse anyway? If you didn't want to kiss the person, you wouldn't have."
Rory flushed as Tristan looked over at her.
Normandy frowned, following her brother's gaze. After a moment she nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
Rory shifted again, sure the young girl knew. She looked away from Normandy, only to find Tristan's eyes on her.
It was going to be a long, long night.
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"I can't believe we go back to class in a week," Jordan said later that night, flopping down next to Rory on the couch. "It feels like vacation's just started."
Rory raised an eyebrow. "When's the last time you went to class?"
"Um, a month or so ago?" Jordan's eyes widened at Rory's look. "Hey! Who are you to talk? You've missed class lately."
"Twice," Rory said, holding up two fingers to emphasize her point. "And I got the notes from both."
"That's still two more classes than you missed in all of last year."
"Jordan..."
"It's a good thing, Rory. I'm always telling you to loosen up," Jordan smirked, "I just didn't think it would take my brother to do it."
Rory's eyes widened. "Your- Tristan? What?"
Jordan smirked. "He's good at it. Got Amelie to loosen up a little, too. I should've thought of it a lot sooner."
"Tristan has nothing to do with it."
"Don't lie to me. Pregnancy's like a lie detector."
"You're barely pregnant. And I'm not lying."
"Uh-huh..."
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Tristan stared at his cell phone strangely before holding it out to Amelie. "It's... for you."
Amelie frowned and took the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey! Happy New Year!"
Amelie smiled at the slightly slurred exclamation. "Ally?"
"Yeah!"
"It's only 10:00 here. Where are you?"
"Kansas... don't ask. But I thought you were three hours ahead of here?"
"If you were on the west coast, yes," Amelie laughed.
"Oh... right. So Max was right. Huh."
"How's he doing?"
"Good. I think I'm a bad influence on him. He won't let me visit the little kids in his class."
"I'm sure he..." Amelie trailed off as static interrupted her words. "What's going on?"
"Sorry about that," came a distinctly male voice, "I, uh, think your sister's alcohol finally caught up with her."
Amelie crinkled her nose. "Lovely. Is this Max?"
"Yeah."
Amelie glanced at Tristan, who was still standing by the door, and lowered her voice. "Did you sell it?"
"Uh... yeah."
Amelie breathed a sigh of relief. "So Ally's okay now?"
"She's fine. You worry about her too much. Let me."
Amelie smiled. "You know, I think you're the best thing that's happened to my sister in a long time."
"I think I'll take that as a compliment... Uh, I should probably go check on her now."
"Yeah. Happy New Year, Max."
"You too, Amelie."
Amelie turned off the phone and glanced up at Tristan. "Ally says Happy New Year."
"That was nice of her..."
"Yeah," Amelie smiled, "Yeah, it was."
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Normandy opened the door to Emilie's room quietly, in case her sister was asleep; it was, after all, just moments from midnight. She was happy to see Emilie was still up, sitting on her bed, hunched over a piece of paper.
"What are you doing?"
Emilie glanced up and smiled. "Hi Normandy. I'm reading. There's some hard words, too."
"That's good. What is it?"
Emilie shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think it's someone's diary entry."
Normandy frowned. "Oh. Whose? You probably shouldn't be reading it, Emilie."
"I'm being careful with it. I'll try to give it back when I'm done."
"Whose is it?"
"Rory's."
Normandy glanced down at the paper, her interest piqued. "Can I see that for a minute?"
Emilie nodded, handing the sheet to her sister. "Rory's smart. She uses lots of big words. I bet you'll like it."
"Yeah..." Normandy said, scanning the letter. Her eyes lit on an entry half way down the page, dated November 27, 2001. Normandy frowned. She would've just turned five. And Tristan had left home to go to military school right after her fifth birthday. The timing was right. "Hey, Emilie?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna go check something. But I need your letter. I'll be right back."
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The sitting room was oddly quiet, Jordan and Amelie having left moments before to help Corina with a spill. Rory and Tristan sat on opposite ends of the couch, their gazes on the television in front of them.
The clock had started a countdown at the bottom of the screen, and it read in large white numbers 1:52. There were less than two minutes until midnight.
Rory sighed, the first to speak. "God, it's weird to think that at this time last year, I was with some guy at a frat party."
Tristan looked up, surprised. "Rory Gilmore drinks?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"Yeah. I guess I did. Maybe a little bit." She pinched her fingers together to emphasize her point.
Tristan shrugged. "It's okay. I was always drunk at parties. Even in high school."
"Oh. Even when you were like, sixteen?"
Tristan nodded. "I think I only went to one party sober that year," he said, laughing quietly, "And most of it I wish I didn't remember.""Why?"
Tristan paused, meeting Rory's gaze. "I broke up with my girlfriend. Do you remember Summer?"
"Yeah," Rory said quietly, a slight brush rising to her cheeks, "I remember that party."
Tristan nodded. "I wish I didn't. Well, some parts at least." He brought his eyes back up to hers and was surprised to find her still looking at him, searching him. "I was never under Summer," he said softly, vaguely aware of the final countdown on the television, "so I never had to get over her."
She didn't speak, just stared at him. There was something electric in his eyes, something primitive, and it drew her to him. The space between them seemed to vanish, although neither would remember moving.
Tristan lowered his head to Rory's, resting his
forehead against hers. He looked into her eyes, the normally glittering
cobalt cloudy with longing. Then her eyes were fluttering closed as his
lips descended upon hers. The kiss was a light caress, a searching,
timid touch, growing deeper only as noisemakers and horns went off in
the background, confetti covering the television screen.
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Tristan pulled away slowly, his gaze heavy. "That probably wasn't... we shouldn't have done that," he murmured.
Rory nodded, her eyes still focused on Tristan's bottom lip. "No..." she trailed off as she felt Tristan's arm on her back, pulling her closer. "We should-"
Her words were cut off as Tristan pulled her to him, his mouth already seeking hers. She returned the kiss hungrily, and it was nothing like the first one as his lips worked fervidly over hers. There was no hesitation, no gentleness, no uncertainty.
There was a creak and they sprang apart as the door opened, faces flushed and breathing heavy as they turned toward the door.
"Hey, Rory? I was just..." Normandy trailed off, looking from Rory to Tristan and back. She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "I'm thinking I'm not the one who needs to explain anything."
Rory's eyes scanned the room nervously for an exit and when she came up with nothing, turned her gaze back to Normandy. "It's not what it-"
Normandy shook her head. "Don't say that, Rory. It's a cliché, and it's rare something's not what it looks like." She looked over at Tristan, disgust evident in her gaze, "I'm betting Amelie doesn't know about this? How long has it been going on?"
Tristan stood up, his eyes pleading with Normandy. "Normandy, it's nothing. Just a New Years thing. There's no reason to upset Amelie."
Rory nodded quickly, standing up as well. "Like you said, Normandy? Just a tradition that's turned into a superstition, right? Nothing at all."
Normandy
nodded slowly, raising the paper that had gone unnoticed in her hand.
"Nothing, Rory? I have to disagree." Clearing her throat, she read
slowly, "November 27th, 2001. Tonight… I wasn't sure what to think. I'm
happy with him, I know that. But for a second, I almost wished he
wasn't there. I almost wished I could've gotten that goodbye kiss. I
know it's stupid because I'm completely in love with Dean, and I hate him,
but I did think it. Not for long, but the thought did cross my mind."
She paused dramatically, looking at Tristan, "Well, it's too late now."
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