Author: Indian Summer

Title: Drain the Glass

Rating: PG-13, for now

Chapter Title: Closure

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 confronts Rory about her date. Rory confronts Tristan about everything. Amelie wonders.

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. ;)
.
.
.

Rory was bathed in darkness upon entering the house later that night.

A sole light flicked on across the room, and Rory's heart began to race. Her head whipped toward that corner of the room, only to find Tristan sitting on the couch, his expression grave, and the dim orange light casting eerie shadows on his face.

"Your grandmother called," Tristan said, his tone unnervingly calm in contrast with his intense gaze.

Rory bit her lip. "Oh."

"She said you never made it to dinner. Wanted to know if we'd kept you working too hard. She reminded me that you aren't some common college kid; that you're a Gilmore, and you should be treated as such."

"I'm sorry," Rory flushed. "My grandmother can be kind of... intense."

"Yeah." Tristan nodded. "I've known her for quite a while, actually. Lovely woman, when she wants to be."

"Uh..."

"I figured you wouldn't want her knowing you stood up her dinner for a date. So I told her you got stuck in traffic and tried to call. When you couldn't get through, you called me and asked me to try. But I forgot."

"Thank you." Rory hesitated for a minute before making her way over to the couch and sitting awkwardly at the end.

"You're welcome. How was your date?"

Rory raised an eyebrow. "You want to know?"

Tristan shook his head. "Not really, but I figured I should get used to it."

Blue met blue. In that moment, so many emotions passed through their gazes. Hurt, confusion, pain, anger. None were positive. "It was a relief, actually," Rory started slowly, not breaking the gaze. "You see, I spent the hour before I left helping Amelie with her wedding dress and telling her what a perfect wife she'll be. Telling her she deserves you, that you're not too good for her."

Tristan blinked slowly. "What?"

"Yeah, see, Amelie has this idea in her head that she doesn't deserve you. It's funny how life works, isn't it?"

"Rory..." Tristan's voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

"I can't do this to her," Rory murmured, shaking her head. "I know we keep saying that, and one or the other always contradicts it, but..." Rory trailed off, looking at Tristan sadly. "You don't have feelings for me, Tristan. You're just nervous and looking for one last hurrah before you get married, and at the same time, settling some old high school bet."

"Rory, that's not-"

"Look, Tristan," Rory interrupted, standing up quickly. "You win. I can't keep doing this, because it's putting me through hell mentally and emotionally. I can't keep doing this because Amelie's my friend. I can't keep doing this because I think I'm-"

A tear slipped down her cheek and Tristan reached out to brush it off. "Rory..." he whispered, wrapping his hand around the back of her head and puling her to him.

"No," she whimpered as her forehead came to rest against his. "We can't, Tristan."

Tristan sighed, dropping kisses over her wet eyelids. "It was never a score to settle for me, Rory."

"It doesn't matter now."

"I care about you."

"But you care about Amelie more. Just go," Rory responded, her voice hardening as she pulled away.

Tristan stared at her for a minute before nodding. With a sigh, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Rory to collapse back onto the couch in tears..
.
.
.

When Tristan joined her in bed that night, Amelie knew something was off. In all honesty, she'd known for quite a while; it had just been easier to avoid.

After her dress fitting today, she'd wager money that Rory was involved in it somehow, perhaps as Tristan's confidante.

It worried her some. Tristan was usually so open with her; they had no secrets.

Lately, though, Tristan was acting more distant. He shuffled around when they were supposed to be planning their wedding, let her make all the decisions, and even their morning kisses seemed lacking lately.

She knew it was cold feet. She wished there was a way to soothe him, but she could think of none. So instead she snuggled into his arms and kissed along his jaw, telling him the only thing she could think of.

"I love you."

Tristan wrapped her tighter in his arms, and kissed her forehead. Amelie snuggled into his warmth, her head falling to rest on his chest.

"It'll be okay," she soothed, "We'll get through it, and everything will go back to normal."

The words sounded hollow even to her.

As her gaze flickered from Tristan's face to her bare ring finger, Amelie wondered what normal was.

All she knew was it had been such a long time since she'd experienced it, she wouldn't know it if it happened anyway.

As she drifted off to sleep, Amelie made a mental note to ask Rory in the morning if she knew what it was that was upsetting Tristan..
.
.
.

And Tristan? He wondered why Rory's words kept echoing in his head, and exactly how they would've ended.

"I can't keep doing this because I think I'm-"

Because I'm sick of it?

Because I'm moving on?

Because I'm falling in love with you?

He wasn't sure if he'd prefer the second or the third option.
.
.
.