Pairing: Established relationships for L/L and P/J; R/T…eventually
Rating: R
Spoilers: May reference anything from seasons 1 & 2
Summary: Seven years after graduating Chilton, Rory and Paris are business partners. What happens when they strike up a joint venture with Tristan DuGrey?
Disclaimer: The characters depicted here were created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, and are the property of Hofflund-Pollone and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know this chapter took a while. It's becoming a pattern. Sadly, I don't think the pattern will be changing anytime soon. It could be worse…it could be Unbreakable Heart. Anyway, this chapter's title quote is from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.
Unholy Alliance
by Grace
Part Nineteen: Six bucks and my right nut say we're not landing in Chicago.
Nearly three months have passed since last we saw Tristan and Rory. The two of them have continued to work diligently on the web site, and are aiming for a New Year's Day launch. Their friendship has evolved, deepened, and they are more comfortable around one another than ever before. They have settled easily into their roles as neighbors, car-pooling to work, and often having take-out for dinner in one or the other's apartment. They have managed to avoid any further awkward moments, and Tristan has convinced himself that friendship with Rory is more than enough for him.
Meanwhile, Rory and Ryan are still going strong. In fact, she is heading to Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with his family. Although most of the time she is content with their relationship, occasionally Rory gets the sense that something is missing…
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Rory came into Paris' office and flopped into a chair with a sigh. "Have I mentioned how much I hate traveling at Thanksgiving?"
At nearly five months along, Paris was finally beginning to look pregnant. Leaning back in her chair, she placed a hand on her gently protruding belly before responding. "Then why are you going?"
"It's really important to Ryan. If the chemotherapy doesn't work, his grandfather might not be around at this time next year. I know that Ryan really wants me to meet him."
"The things we do for love," Paris commented lightly.
When Rory didn't respond, Paris fixed her with a piercing gaze. "You do love him, don't you?"
"Of course!" Rory exclaimed, a bit too quickly. "And I know that he loves me." She glanced away, her cheeks coloring. "I think he might be planning to propose this weekend."
"What makes you say that?"
"Just a feeling. He keeps telling me that when he thinks about the future, he sees me in it."
"I'm sensing a 'but,' Rory."
The other woman sighed. "It's stupid, really. I've just always had this silly idea that you shouldn't marry someone just because you think you can live with him, but because you don't think you can live without him."
"That's not silly at all," Paris said quietly. "Don't you think that's how Ryan feels about you?"
"I know that he loves me," Rory repeated her earlier words. "But sometimes I think he sees marriage as a means to an end—a way to achieve the life he always thought he should have."
Paris didn't answer, and Rory suddenly felt embarrassed and ashamed. "Forget I said anything. I'm just being ridiculous, I know. Life isn't a fairy tale, right?"
"No, it's not," Paris replied as Rory got up to leave. When she was once again alone in her office, she added, "But that doesn't mean it can't be one."
* * *
Rory settled gratefully into her airplane set on Wednesday night. There had been several moments that evening when she didn't think she would ever get out of the airport. As was typical for Thanksgiving, Bradley had been completely chaotic. A rash of winter storms scattered across the country hadn't exactly improved the situation, either. Her flight to O'Hare had been delayed over two hours by snow in Chicago, and Rory had practically given up hope that she would ever leave Hartford.
Finally, though, she was on-board, half-starved and exhausted, with only the prospect of a tiny bag of something vaguely resembling trail mix to look forward to in the next two hours. With a small groan, she closed her eyes and tried to get some rest.
Sleep, though, proved elusive, as it is wont to do on airplanes. No sooner had she found a reasonably comfortable position, than the seat beside her was occupied with an unceremonious "thud." Raising one heavy lid to see her newfound companion, the other promptly flew open when she recognized Tristan beside her.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she yelped, sitting bolt upright.
"Lovely to see you too, Rory," he drawled. "I assure you, this is as much a surprising coincidence to me as it is to you."
"I thought you were going to California for the weekend?"
"I was. I am. After all, nothing says Thanksgiving cheer quite like getting sloshed with my parents at a winery in Napa."
"Why the change of plans, then?"
"Weather, naturally. I was supposed to be on an earlier flight, but it got cancelled, and here I am."
"I still don't understand why you're going to Chicago instead of California."
"Connecting flight."
"Oh. Well, I suppose having you here will make the flight more bearable."
"I'm so glad you approve. So, are you nervous about meeting RJ's family?"
She shrugged slightly. "A little, I suppose. I want them to like me, you know?"
He patted her hand gently. "How could they not?"
Rory grinned. "That's sweet of you to say."
"Just telling the truth. You're a wonderful person, Rory. You're the kind of woman parents dream of their son bringing home to meet them."
"Thank you, Tristan."
"You're welcome. Now, if you'd like to try and get some sleep, you're more than welcome to use my shoulder as a pillow. It should be softer than the wall, at least."
"I think I'll take you up on that offer, thanks."
He raised the armrest between them, and she gratefully leaned against the softness of his fleece shirt. Snuggling in closer, she was sound asleep within minutes.
Tristan gazed down at the dark head in silence, marveling at the events that led him to this place and time. Moving slowly and carefully, he lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders, drawing her closer so that her head was resting against his chest. A flood of peace and contentment overtook him, and soon sleep claimed him as well.
* * *
Rory woke up when the captain came over the loudspeaker to announce that they were beginning their descent into Chicago. The pillow her head was resting against was much firmer and warmer than she was accustomed to, and after a moment, she realized the pillow smelled a lot like Tristan's cologne…
Looking up, her gaze was met by Tristan, who had a tiny smile on his face. "Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Did you have a nice nap?"
Sitting up and stretching, Rory nodded. "Mm-hmm. You know, if the consulting business doesn't pan out, you could become a professional pillow."
"Now that sounds like a stellar career path."
"Hey, it never hurts to keep your options open."
"I'll keep that in mind. Is RJ meeting you at the airport?"
"Yeah, down by baggage claim. What time is your connecting flight to California?"
"Not for another hour and a half."
"What a way to spend Thanksgiving eve—sitting in an airport."
"Oh, I don't know. I've had worse holidays."
Her eyes clouded. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget that not everyone does holidays the way we do in Stars Hollow."
"Will it be hard for you, not being there this year?"
"Yeah, but it was bound to happen sooner or later, right? I may as well make the best of it."
Before Tristan could respond, the public address system came to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. There are some pretty severe storms on their way into the Chicago area right now. We are going to proceed with our landing, but we may experience some turbulence on the way down. Thank you for your patience, and we'll have you on the ground soon."
Tristan groaned. "I have a feeling I'm not going to be getting to California anytime soon."
Rory didn't respond, she was too busy white-knuckling his forearm.
"Um, Rory, you're kind of hurting me."
She met his eyes, but didn't loosen her grip.
"Rory, what's wrong? Talk to me, okay?"
His words finally seemed to get through to her, and she blinked several times, then eased up on her grip on him. "Sorry. I just, um, don't like flying all that much. I'm fine most of the time, but I kind of freak out when there's turbulence."
Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Hey, everything is going to be just fine. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."
"You promise?" she whispered, chuckling softly.
"I promise."
* * *
Thirty minutes later, they were once again on solid ground, taxiing towards the gate. Tristan released Rory, and she leaned over to look out the window. It appeared that they had landed just in time, as snow was swirling outside, and looked to be getting heavier by the minute.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain again. On behalf of the flight crew, and myself I'd like to welcome you to Chicago-O'Hare International Airport. The local time is about 9:50 p.m. The current temperature is thirty degrees Fahrenheit. It appears that we got in just under the wire. Ground control has informed me that the airport is now closed, with no flights arriving or departing until further notice. If you were meeting a connecting flight here in Chicago, customer service representatives will be available to assist you at the gate. We apologize for any inconvenience, and we thank you for choosing United Airlines.
"You have got to be kidding me," grumbled Tristan. "Well, I've always wondered what it would be like to sleep in an airport."
"You're not going to sleep in the airport, Tristan. We're going to go out there, talk to an agent, and then you're coming home with me and Ryan."
"Rory, I'm not crashing your Thanksgiving."
"Ryan is your friend and your partner. I really don't think he'll consider it crashing. You'd do the same for him, right?"
"Of course."
"Then let's get out of this flying death trap, and get someplace with nice warm beds."
"Sounds like a plan."
* * *
Another forty-five minutes had elapsed by the time Rory and Tristan arrived at the baggage claim area. The airline attendant had cheerfully explained that they wouldn't be able to get Tristan on a flight to California until Friday at the earliest, what with Thanksgiving being the busiest travel time of the year and all.
Rory, in an excellent imitation of Lorelai, had leapt into the conversation and declared the situation unacceptable. By the time she was through, Tristan had received a voucher for a round-trip, first-class flight valid for anywhere in the contiguous United States.
Tristan was still chuckling as they approached the baggage carousel. "You were amazing, Rory! For a minute, I thought the ticket agent was going to wet her pants."
Rory wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I'm glad she didn't. That would have been disgusting. I actually feel a little bad for terrorizing her. It's not like she can control the weather. She was just too damned perky!"
Before he could respond, they heard a voice call out "Lorelai!"
They both turned in time to see Ryan hurrying towards them. When he caught sight of Tristan, he missed a step in surprise."
Reaching the pair, he immediately asked, "What happened to California?"
Smirking, Tristan replied. "I'm fine, RJ. How are you?"
Rory smacked him lightly in the arm. "Cute. You think of that all by yourself?"
"It's your fault for being nice to me."
She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. "How do you figure that?"
"My witty bantering skills are rusty, obviously."
"Good heavens, how did you survive all those years we didn't see each other?"
He frowned at the obvious hole in his logic. "Oh. Right. Any chance you'd buy jet-lag?"
"Because the one-hour time change is so traumatic?"
"Fine. You win. Happy now?"
Rory stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. "That was too easy."
Tristan threw up his arms in defeat. "I can't do anything right, can I?" Finally turning his attention back to RJ, he asked, "How do you put up with her?"
The other man's voice had a bitter edge. "Oh, are you talking to me? Here I thought I had suddenly become invisible."
Stepping towards him, Rory wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hey, don't be like that. We didn't mean to seem like we were ignoring you. Too much time in that sardine can with wings left us a little edgy."
Ryan's gaze softened as he looked down at his girlfriend. "I'm sorry, too. I've just been worried, waiting for you to get here."
"Believe me, I was a little nervous myself," Rory said. "It was a good thing Tristan was there to help me though it."
"Which reminds me, you still haven't said why you're here, buddy."
"I guess you could call it a weather-induced change of plans. I won't be able to get to Napa until Friday at the earliest."
"Oh, man, I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"
Rory broke into the conversation. "I told him he could spend Thanksgiving with us. That's okay, isn't it?"
"Of course!" Ryan replied after the most minute of pauses. "The more the merrier. My mom always cooks enough for a battalion, anyway."
"Thanks, RJ," Tristan said sincerely. "I didn't want to intrude on your holiday, but it sure beats staying in a hotel."
RJ waved it off as insignificant. "Don't be silly. You're my friend, and you and Lorelai are practically like brother and sister."
Tristan's face twisted into a pained expression for a second, but neither RJ nor Rory noticed. "Brother and sister. Right," he mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?" Rory asked.
"Nothing. I, um, oh, there's my suitcase!" He quickly approached the conveyor and grabbed the black suitcase. Setting it on the ground, he was struck by a disturbing thought. He hadn't exactly packed clothes suitable for a Chicago winter.
Peering down the length of the belt, Rory squealed, "There's my bag!"
Both men turned towards where she was pointing. Ryan looked mortified, while Tristan collapsed into gales of laughter.
Nestled placidly amidst a sea of sedate black, navy blue, brown, and hunter green bags was what Tristan assumed had once been an innocuous black suitcase. Sometime during its life, however, it had been attacked by someone with a sincere love of glitter and an…interesting sense of color. Tristan's money was on Lorelai.
Nearly every inch of the bag had been covered in a myriad of colors of metallic spray paint. One side was silver, with "STARS HOLLOW OR BUST!" painted in large purple letters. The opposite side of the suitcase sported a gold background, and was scattered with red hearts, orange stars, yellow moons, green clovers…Tristan stopped mid-thought, suddenly sensing a pattern.
"You have a Lucky Charms suitcase!" he announced, laughter in his voice.
Rory beamed at him. "You figured it out! I'll have to tell my mom—she'll be so excited."
"What is that thing?" Ryan asked.
She looked up at him, hurt evident on her face. "It's my suitcase. My mom decorated it for me, so that I'd always know which one is mine."
"Oh. That was very…creative of her."
Irritated by his friend's attitude, Tristan turned away and grabbed Rory's suitcase as it rumbled past. There were times when he was positively convinced that RJ had a stick shoved up his ass.
Rory was quiet as they made their way out to the parking lot. The wind was bitingly cold, cutting through the heavy material of her winter coat, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her body. Ryan strode purposefully ahead, digging his car keys out of his pocket. Tristan matched his pace to Rory's, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired, that's all."
"Are you sure?"
"Mm-hmm." She smiled softly up at him. "I'm glad you're here, Tristan."
"So am I, Rory."
Popping the trunk, Ryan called out, "Hurry up, you two! It's freezing out here."
A few moments later, the three of them were huddled in the car, waiting impatiently for the heat to kick in. It wasn't long before they were on their way, with Ryan confidently navigating out of the massive airport. No sooner had they gotten on the northbound Tri-State, though, than traffic came to a near dead stop.
"What's going on?" Rory asked. "Is there an accident up ahead?"
"There might be, but it's just as likely there's not," Ryan replied.
"Then why are we stopped?" she persisted.
"Welcome to Chicago, Lorelai. Traffic sucks under the best of circumstances, which these certainly aren't. Plus, this is the first real snowfall they've had, and every year people manage to forget how to drive in it."
Rory groaned softly. "Lovely. How far do we have to go?"
"About twenty-five miles. It could take a while."
"That's about par for the course today," Tristan commented.
"I know this isn't where you expected to be, is it DuGrey?"
"Not exactly. I really do appreciate you and your family letting me crash your holiday."
"Speaking of family," Rory spoke up, "did you let yours know that you won't be making it to Napa?"
"I'll give them a call in the morning, wish them a Happy Thanksgiving. They weren't expecting to see me until tomorrow anyway."
"Okay. So, Ryan, who all is going to be at dinner tomorrow?"
"The whole extended family on my mom's side—aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course, my grandparents."
"Have you seen your grandfather?" she asked softly.
Ryan nodded. "My sister and I went over to the house this morning. He's pretty weak, but he was able to sit and talk with us for a few hours. I know he's really looking forward to meeting you."
She reached over and rested her left hand on top of his right, and said, "I'm looking forward to it, too."
Sprawled out in the back seat, Tristan watched the exchange with a sinking heart. Although RJ could be uptight and annoying at times, he was still a good man. He and Rory obviously cared very much about one another.
Closing his eyes, Tristan resigned himself to the reality that he didn't belong here.
To be continued…