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-Polone 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.
Author's Note: Yes, I really am updating. My muse had taken a rather extended leave of absence, but it appears to have returned, at least for the time being. As you will soon learn, the story still isn't drawing to a conclusion, but I do know where it's headed. It's simply a matter of getting there. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy yet another frustrating chapter. J
Incidentally, this chapter's title quote is from Pretty in Pink, because dammit, James Spader made being a jackass sexy.
Unholy Alliance
By Grace
Part Twenty-nine: He's not gonna ride his bike past your house anymore.
Tristan chuckled quietly. "From one teenybopper show to another…" he murmured.
"Huh?"
He waved off Lorelai's confusion. "Nothing. Just something Rory said earlier."
"Oh. Anyway, don't give up hope just yet. Even though we had to endure the agony of seasons four and five, Joey did choose Pacey over Dawson in the end."
"That may be, but Lorelai, life isn't a TV show. Besides, RJ is a great guy. Why are you so down on their relationship?"
She groaned. "I'm a horrible person—a horrible mother—aren't I?"
"No, you're not. You know you're not. But for some delusional reason, you've decided I'm a better match for your daughter. Given that I symbolize everything in life that you once ran away from, I'm having a hard time wrapping my feeble mind around that concept."
"Just another example of my contrariness coming out to play. Or something like that. Ryan's spent some time here, and I like him. He plays with Billy and the twins, he calls Luke 'sir,' and he brings me a pound of chocolate-covered coffee beans every time he visits. If I put the two of you side-by-side on an accounting sheet, I'm sure Ryan would come out the clear winner. He has everything going for him that I could ever want for my daughter. But, I don't know, and maybe this makes me as meddlesome as my own mother—God forbid—he's just not right for her."
"I want to believe you. I really do. But this is Rory, and the positive balance on the accounting sheet is going to win in the end."
"I wish that I could tell you that you're wrong. If you want, I can try to talk some sense into her, but she's my daughter to the core, and that would just send her running the other way."
"Thanks anyway."
"No problem. Now, why don't you put Emma back in her crib and come rejoin the party?"
"Sure. I'll be right out."
* * *
The remaining hours of Christmas Eve slipped past quickly and without drama. The eggnog flowed freely, the laughter echoed through the house, and outside, the snow continued to fall.
It was nearly midnight when Richard and Emily finally decided to take their leave. Luke, Lorelai, Rory, and Tristan walked them to the door, said their goodnights, and proceeded to gape at the three feet of snow blanketing Stars Hollow.
"Where did all that come from?" Lorelai queried with dismay.
"One would presume from the sky, Lorelai," Emily said dryly. "It isn't as though there are snow elves, after all."
"But what are we going to do?"
"Well, we certainly can't drive home tonight," her mother insisted. "We'll just have to stay here tonight."
Lorelai seemed to go into a semi-catatonic state. "Stay here. Of course," she mumbled. "One big happy family, all under one roof. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Mom, why don't you and Luke go to bed? Tristan and I can take care of getting Grandma and Grandpa settled."
"Thanks, Rory," Luke replied, his tone relieved. "Come on, Lorelai—I think you need to get some sleep."
Mutely, she nodded and allowed her husband to lead her away.
Rory quickly took charge of the situation, instructing Tristan to open up the pull-out couch, directing Emily to the linen closet for sheets and blankets, and suggesting to her grandfather that he have another glass of eggnog while they took care of everything. Meanwhile, she headed upstairs to her mom and Luke's bedroom.
She knocked gently, and Luke opened the door. "What's up?" he asked, his voice weary.
"Grandma and Grandpa are going to need clothes to sleep in."
"Oh. Right. Let me see what I can find."
Rory waited patiently in the hallway, and after a few minutes, Luke returned. In his hands were a pair of men's flannel pajamas that had always been too big for him, and a large, full-length cotton nightgown that Rory recognized from her mother's pregnancy with the twins.
"This was the best I could come up with," he said apologetically.
"Then they'll have to do." She gave him an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. Everything will be just fine."
"I hope you're right."
Rory flashed another cheerful smile before heading back downstairs. There was one small problem that she hadn't shared with Luke—she had absolutely no idea where she and Tristan were going to sleep.
* * *
Emily and Richard were finally settled by quarter to one in the morning, and Rory dragged Tristan into the kitchen.
"We have a problem," she told him.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know where we're going to sleep."
"Oh. That is a problem. Where were we supposed to sleep?"
"You were supposed to have the couch, I was supposed to sleep in Billy's bed, and he would have been in a sleeping bag in mom and Luke's room. Obviously, the couch is occupied, and my mom forgot to put Billy in her room. Which leaves us without a lot of options."
Tristan let out a huge yawn. "Hmm. Okay. Well, let me know when you figure it out. I'm just going to put my head down on the table for a minute…"
"No way, mister. I'm way too tired to come up with a solution on my own."
"Why can't we just sleep in sleeping bags like Billy was going to?" he asked, yawning again.
"Where? There isn't enough room on the floor in Billy's or the twins' rooms for one person, let alone two. The couch, Christmas tree, and presents are taking up the entire living room, and I'm not about to wake up mom and Luke. They're stressed enough as it is."
"I'm telling you, the kitchen table is sounding better and better."
"You're not helping."
"Sorry."
Rory sighed, and tried desperately to make her mind think clearly. Finally, a thought occurred to her. "That might work…"
"What?" Tristan asked, his voice muffled by the table, since he had followed through with his decision to lay his head on it.
"The sewing room. It's…well, it's a glorified closet, really. It's not even a sewing room—yet, anyway. My mom emptied it out, and Luke is supposed to fix it up for her, but he hasn't gotten around to it. It will be a tight fit, but I think we can manage to squeeze in."
"Do I get a pillow?"
"Yes."
"Sounds perfect. Lead the way."
* * *
Stopping only to change clothes and gather pillows and sleeping bags, it was only a few minutes before they made their way into the future sewing room. Rory hadn't been kidding about the size—it measured perhaps six feet by eight feet. Tristan was pretty sure the walk-in closet in his childhood bedroom had been about twice as large.
"Are you sure we're going to fit?"
"It's this or the kitchen table," she shot back, fatigue evident in her voice.
"Tough choice," he mumbled.
"Just pick a patch of floor and be quiet. I'm far too tired to listen to you bemoan the lack of adequate accommodations."
"Hey, no need to get hostile."
"Sorry. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately."
"I know. Work has been pretty crazy."
"Yes, it has," she agreed. "I don't know if he's said anything to you, but I know Ryan is really grateful that you've been putting in so many hours."
"He deserves to be able to spend time with his grandfather—not to mention you. I know he'd do the same for me—probably without even kissing my almost-fiancé on Christmas Eve."
"Tristan…"
"I just want to apologize for what happened. I should have pulled away."
"We talked about this, remember? What happened wasn't anybody's fault. We just can't ever let it happen again."
"I'll be on the lookout for rogue mistletoe, then," he teased.
"You do that," he replied sleepily, her voice trailing off into a yawn.
"Hey, Rory?"
"Hmm?"
"Merry Christmas."
She didn't reply, and when he leaned over, Tristan realized she was already asleep.
* * *
Tristan would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that he had closed his eyes only five minutes ago, when he woken by the excited shrieks of three very happy children. Forgetting where he was for the moment, he rolled over and crashed into a wall. "Ouch!" he yelped, gingerly rubbing a hand across his forehead.
Beside him, Rory sat up, her eyes still at half-mast. "Whazzat?" she mumbled.
"Sorry. Close encounter with the wall."
She turned towards the sound of his voice, her eyes still not open. "Okay. Sleep…need more sleep." Without another word, she lay back down.
"I don't think so, Sleeping Beauty." Carefully, he nudged her shoulder. "It's Christmas morning, and the munchkins are raring to go."
"Ugh," she groaned. "Children need to be taught the value of sleeping in."
"You don't fool me, Ror. I bet you were the same way when you were little."
"Guilty. Oh well. We may as well get the coffee started."
Half an hour later, the entire household could reasonably be termed awake, an almond coffeecake ring was heating up in the oven, and Billy, Emma, and Charlotte were itching to tear into the pile of brightly wrapped gifts. Lorelai was just about to given them the go-ahead when the doorbell rang.
"You guys get started; I'll get the door," Rory announced. She headed over to the front door, and opened it after peering outside. "Jess, Paris!" she greeted them with a smile. "We weren't expecting you to get here so early."
"Explain that to this…this fetus," Paris snapped, gesturing angrily at her protruding belly. "I've been awake most of the night, thanks to all the kicking."
"And since she was awake, Paris decided I should be awake too," Jess interjected. "I finally suggested we come over here, where at least there would be coffee."
"Fantastic idea, darling. We could have stood outside in the freezing cold at the diner."
"Sorry," Rory said, backing away from the door. "Come on in. Everyone's in the living room, opening presents. Coffee's in the kitchen—help yourself."
Rory shut the door behind them, and pulled her robe more tightly around her body to ward off the chill. Just as she was turning to head back into the living room, the doorbell rang again. Puzzled, she went to open it—they weren't expecting anyone else until late that afternoon.
Her jaw dropped, and for just a moment, she was speechless. "Ryan? Oh my God, what are you doing here?"
"Let me in, and I'll tell you all about it," he said with a laugh.
"Of course, come in! I don't understand—you're supposed to be in Chicago!"
"If you want, I can head back there," he teased.
"No way, mister!" Overwhelmed by joy, Rory threw her arms around him, and pulled his head down for a kiss.
Ryan was breathless when they finally broke apart. "I must say, Lorelai, you certainly know how to give a guy a Christmas present."
"My pleasure. So tell me, really, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you, obviously."
"But what about your grandfather?"
"I went to see him yesterday, and the first thing he did was ask about you. I explained the situation, what with you wanting to be here with your family, since you missed Thanksgiving, and me wanting to be there with him."
"And?"
"And he told me straight off that I was a fool, and that I should get on the first plane back here to be with you."
She snuggled closer to him. "I'll have to thank him the next time I see him."
"We'll both have to thank him," Ryan murmured as he drew her in for another kiss. "You know," he continued as he peppered tiny nips along her jaw line, "I tried to get here last night, but there was a blizzard here."
"I noticed," Rory giggled. "My parents actually got stranded here, and Tristan and I ended up sleeping in the closet."
Ryan's arms stiffened just slightly around her, and his voice was a couple degrees cooler. "Tristan's here?"
"Yeah. My mom found out he didn't have any plans for the holidays, so she had me invite him here."
He forced himself to relax—the explanation was innocent enough, and Rory's voice held no guile. "That was awfully nice of her."
Rory nodded her agreement. "Mom's like that. I think she's always had a bit of a soft spot for strays."
"I wouldn't exactly call Tristan a stray," Ryan chuckled, "but her heart is in the right place."
"Come on, I want to tell everyone you're here! They'll be so happy to see you."
Truth be told, "happy" probably wasn't the word most casual observers would attribute to the Gilmore-Danes clan's reaction to RJ's visit. "Astonished" would be a closer approximation, but in her own blinding joy, Rory was oblivious to it all. So were Billy, Emma, and Charlotte, who were buried beneath a mountain of wrapping paper.
Tristan, meanwhile, had been punched in the gut by reality. When RJ appeared beside Rory in the living room, he had greeted his partner with a hearty handshake, a smile, and a near-boisterous "Merry Christmas!" he managed to be gracious and sociable for twenty minutes, and then sneaked off to a corner.
This has to stop, he told himself. Not even I am this much of a masochist. RJ loved Rory, and she loved him. He could face that, accept that, in spite of all the hope Lorelai had instilled in him. Enough was enough. After the launch of the web site, he would dissolve the partnership with RJ. He'd sell his shared, or maybe just give them to RJ. He'd always wanted to travel more, see the wonders of the world and all that. Maybe it was time to do all the things he had been putting off. No more Rory, no more RJ, no more Lorelai, Luke, Billy, Emma, Charlotte… No more heartache.
His decision was made; his New Year's resolution had come a week early. It was as simple as that.
Right.
To be continued…