Author: Indian Summer
Title: Drain the Glass
Rating: PG-13, for now
Chapter Title: Schadenfreude
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: Tristan's reaction to Rory's date. Wedding planning. A phone conversation.
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. ;)
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There were some mornings where you just really needed coffee. The next morning, Rory was experiencing such a day, so she tugged a blanket over her pajama-clad shoulders and made her way down to the kitchen, eyes still bleary with sleep.
Making a beeline for the coffeepot, Rory failed to notice the dark shape in the corner of the room, until a noise came from the direction.
She spun her head around quickly, her heart pounding, looking for the intruder. Squinting, she noticed Tristan sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, a book resting on his knee and his eyes raised to meet hers.
Rory took a deep breath. "You scared me. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"
"I'm working from home today," Tristan answered, his voice unnervingly nonchalant. "The wedding planner's coming over and Amelie asked for my help today."
"Oh." Rory could feel the color draining out of her cheeks and turned back toward the coffee.
Tristan cleared his throat. "How was your night? You weren't back when we got in."
"It was... nice."
"Oh." Tristan lapsed back into silence.
"And your date? How'd it go?"
"Amelie was happy with it. It went okay."
"Oh." Rory refilled the filter paper with grounds.
"She's so into this wedding planning stuff, though. I can't believe it's only three months away."
Rory clenched her mug in her left hand, knuckles whitening around the handle. "It's just cold feet," Rory said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"Yeah, yeah. I know that. I'm just..." He trailed off, and Rory could hear him pulling himself to his feet.
"You'll be fine," she half-squeaked, and wished she'd just shut up.
"Yeah."
As he approached, the muscles in her back tensed and she swallowed her protest. "You just..."
"Yeah." He was breathing against her neck now, and the delicate hairs straightened at his warm breath.
"Tristan..." Rory squirmed away from him.
"I'm not sure if I want to do this," he murmured, running a hand over her shoulder and down the side of her arm. "I'm not ready to settle down."
"You're just saying that," she started, but her words were cut off as she felt his lips against the base of her neck. She made to pull away, but as his tongue darted across the bony surface, she found herself leaning into the touch instead. "Tristan..." her protest came out more like a moan.
"I didn't like it last night," he whispered, pulling away. "You with that guy."
"Tris..." Her words broke off as he spun her around gently, gently pushing her so her back was against the counter.
As his lips found the soft skin just above her collar bone, she let her head drop back, her mind awash with thoughts of his touch, and trying to memorize every second, every nip, every feel.
He'd reached her chin when rational thought hurtled back to her and she stepped away quickly. His breath smelled of alcohol, not so artfully concealed by peppermint and cinnamon.
"How much did you have to drink this morning?" she accused, pushing Tristan away as he moved toward her again.
His face slackened and he frowned. "Just a few..."
"Tristan..."
He blinked rapidly and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he muttered, turning on his heels and rushing out of the kitchen.
Rory groaned, bringing a hand to her lips and collapsing back into the counter.
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"Hey, Lane?"
"Rory? Is that you?"
Rory winced at the staticky reply. "Uh, yeah."
"I meant to call..."
"It's okay. I could've, too. I got the number from Zack's mom."
"Oh."
"How's the tour been?"
"It's cool. I'm starting to miss Stars Hollow, though. Only a few more weeks left."
"And the band's doing good?"
"Yeah. We had to take Brian to the hospital a while back, though. He had an asthma attack when he saw the crowd and... well, you know how Brian is."
"Yeah."
"So I'm guessing you didn't call me to ask about the band, though."
"No... I need advice."
"Ooh, juicy. About what?"
"Well, you got my email, right?"
"That you were playing mommy to that Chilton guy's kids?"
"Not his kids. Sisters."
"Oh, yeah. Right. The guy you kissed at that party, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Huh."
"Huh what?"
"Nothing. So what's going on?"
"He's getting married. And I'm friends with his fiancée."
"So? What's the problem?"
"We keep... we end up kissing."
"You and his fiancée? I thought the Paris thing was just a fluke."
"Lane!" Rory hissed.
"Sorry. Okay. So you and Tristan can't keep your hands off each other? Does the fiancée know?"
"No. She can't. And there's nothing to tell, anyway."
"Uh-huh. Well, Rory. If there's something to tell, she needs to know. And you've got to talk it over with Tristan. And if there's nothing to tell... why are you telling me?"
Rory swore under her breath as she heard the click on the other end.
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"I thought picking out china patterns was just a saying," Tristan grumbled as he studied a row of plates. Apparently there were six different patterns in the row, but he couldn't tell one apart from the next.
"These are just for the reception," Amelie explained, tapping a hand against the plate to Tristan's far right. "I like this one the best. What do you think, Tristan?"
Tristan shrugged. "It's... nice."
Amelie frowned. "If you don't like it, we can keep looking."
"God, no." Tristan cleared his throat. "I mean, no. It's perfect, Amelie."
Amelie pursed her lips, studying his expression. "Are you sure?"
"If you are." Tristan offered her a weak smile. "I just want this to be perfect for you."
Marguerite Wilson cleared her throat. "Well, if you agree, we really should get back to discussing the centerpieces. We haven't come to a decision on what kind of flowers to use, and there's still the question as to whether or not the wine should be..."
Tristan rolled his eyes, taking Amelie's hand as the wedding planner droned on. "I'd rather skip out on this and go to lunch with you," Tristan whined.
Amelie smiled. "Lets take care of the centerpieces and then we'll eat. I promise."
"Fine," Tristan murmured, overwhelmed by a wave of guilt as he stared at Amelie's unknowing smile. He couldn't hurt her again. It simply wasn't a choice.
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The main entrance was flung open as Emilie ran into the room, blonde curls flouncing as she collapsed onto the hard oak floor in a fit of giggles.
"What's going on?" Rory asked as she rushed out to meet the laughing girl, her worried frown curving into a smile.
Normandy rolled her eyes as she entered the house, stoic as ever, pulling Ethan in behind her. "Ethan was telling her about how Lilly peed on him when he tried to change her diaper."
Ethan frowned. "I think she thinks my pain's funny."
"Schadenfreude, Ethan. Schadenfreude. At least try to sound intelligent," Normandy sniped, letting her backpack rest on her right hip.
Rory raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay, Normandy?"
Ethan snickered. "Is anything ever okay in Normandy's eyes? Our teacher tried to tell her the Ky- Ke- K-something treaty wasn't that big of a deal today, and she went off on her."
"The Kyoto Protocol on Climate Change. I think you're familiar. Ms. Schipper- our science teacher- said it was an idealistic arrangement not truly necessary. She went on to say that she didn't see why the US should have anything to do with it."
Rory was familiar with the Kyoto Treaty, but only in the sense that it had been a document thrown around in the first presidential election she could vote in. "Uh..."
"So Normandy told her the US is the number one polluter, throwing around emissions statistics."
"Thirty-six percent," Normandy grumbled.
Ethan shrugged. "Yeah. And Ms. Schipper said since the majority couldn't be controlled by humans, it was pointless to try to fix the stuff that could."
Rory nodded, trying to pretend she had a clue where this was going.
Ethan, however, made it extremely easy. "So Normandy got a detention for saying that the teacher was a bumbling fool."
Rory opened her mouth to reply, but the ringing of the phone cut her off. Emilie, still on the floor, jumped to her feet. "I'll get it," she chirped as she ran across the room.
"Normandy, it's okay to, uh, disagree with your teacher," Rory said carefully. "But maybe you shouldn't call her a fool?"
"Rory! It's for you," Emilie spoke up, gesturing to the phone. "A boy." She was quiet for a moment, her attention focused on the phone. "Noel?"
Rory smiled slightly. "Okay, I'll take it upstairs, Emilie. I'll tell you when to hang up, okay?"
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"I don't remember you saying anything about sisters," Noel said casually, as Rory stretched out on her bed.
Rory adjusted the phone. "Not a sister. I'm Emilie's nanny- governess. One of those."
"Oh, right. Emilie and... Normandy?"
"Yeah. You were talking to Emilie."
"Well, I'm talking to you now."
"Yeah..."
"Well, I wanted to check in, see how you were doing."
"Since last night? I was going to call you. I really did have a good time..."
"God, I knew I shouldn't have called so soon. Is there a but?" Noel asked, and Rory thought she could hear tension creeping into his voice.
"No," Rory laughed. "I had a good time. That's it."
"Oh. Then we should, you know, go out again sometime."
"I think you're right." Rory frowned. "I could get my friend to watch the girls for me, or..."
"Are you doing anything Friday?"
"Nothing was set in stone, but my grandmother wanted to see me."
"Oh."
Rory bit her lip. "What about during the day? We could have lunch or something?"
"Yeah. I could pick you up around 1:00 or something."
"That sounds good."
"Yeah. Yeah, it does."
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