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. Nor do I know the character of Brooke Davis from One Tree Hill.
Author's Note: Another update, and less than six months have passed. This one is dedicated to Priya, because she rocks. And she knows how to dance. J
Incidentally, this chapter's title quote is from Sweet Home Alabama, because Reese Witherspoon is adorable.
Unholy Alliance
By Grace
Part Thirty: You know, for something you've been holding onto for so long, you're pretty quick to let it go.
I can't control her, anymore than I can control the weather.
Christmas Day was winding down, although festivities were still underway at the Gilmore-Danes house. Richard and Emily had gone home earlier in the evening, while Billy, Charlotte, and Emma had fallen into bed, exhausted by all the excitement. Paris was sprawled on the couch, getting a foot massage from her husband. Luke was in the kitchen arguing with Sookie over what constituted proper Yuletide après-dinner snacks—her words, not his. Lorelai and Jackson were sitting on the floor with Davey, who was explaining his new LeapPad books to them. Rory and Ryan were cuddled on a love seat in front of the fire. Lane and Andy, who had also eschewed a DuGrey family Christmas, were currently searching for Tristan. He had disappeared after helping but Emma and Charlotte to bed.
"Maybe we should check outside," Andy suggested.
"But it's cold out there," whined Lane.
"You can stay here while I go look," he offered.
"No, I'll come. Just let me get a jacket."
He waited while she retrieved both their coats, along with hats and gloves. Thus guarded against the elements, they headed out into the bitterly cold night.
Sure enough, they found Tristan sitting on the porch steps, sans coat, nursing an extremely large mug of hot spiced rum.
"Hey, cuz," Andy greeted him. "You know, there are warmer places to hide out and get drunk."
"Wha' makes you think 'm hiding?" he asked, his speech slurred.
"Just a hunch, since you're voluntarily sitting outside in twenty-degree weather, rather than inside a nice, warm house enjoying the company of family and friends," Lane piped up.
"Those people aren't my family—and they never will be," Tristan protested bitterly.
"Try not to drown in that sea of self-pity," Andy commented. "Just in case you've forgotten, I am your family."
Tristan took a deep draw from his mug before responding. "You don't get it, do you? I love her, more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. And she's in love with my fucking best friend and business partner."
"Tristan," Lane said softly, sitting down beside him and taking his hand. "I know the situation seems impossible right now, but…"
He tore his hand from her grasp and stood up. "No more 'buts,' Lane! It's over. I can't do this anymore—I can't pretend I'm okay with this. After January 1st, I'm dissolving my partnership with RJ and leaving the country. I don't want to fight anymore, so I'm going to concede the loss."
"That's bullshit, Tristan," Andy spat out. "You don't get to abandon your life like that. There are more people that care about you than Rory Gilmore."
"Like Paris and Jess," Lane said. "You're supposed to be a godfather, remember?"
"Yeah, with Rory as godmother," he responded bitterly.
"What about Billy, Emma, and Charlotte?" she countered. "They adore you. How do you think they'd feel is you disappeared. For that matter, how do you think I'd feel? I care about you, Tristan—a lot. You've become a good friend, and I don't want to lose you."
"You're sweet. But you're not going to lose me, Lane. No matter where I go, we're still going to be friends."
It was Lane's turn to get angry. "Dammit, Tristan, could you possibly be any more selfish? I get that you're hurt, okay? But you're not the first person who's been hurt by love, and you sure as hell won't be the last! So cut the crap already! If you love her so much, tell her! Fight for her! Stop the passive-aggressive routine and do something!" Spinning around, she stomped back into the house.
Andy stared at her, a mixture of shock and admiration on his face. "I think I'm in love," he breathed.
"My advice? Tell her that as soon as you can," Tristan said wearily.
Andy turned back to his cousin. "So what are you going to do? Are you really going to run away?"
"Ask me again when I'm sober, okay?"
"When might that be?" Andy asked.
"Sooner than you might think. I'm actually starting to feel the cold."
"Let's head inside, buddy."
"Lead the way."
* * *
Christmas was officially over. The clock had passed midnight just a few minutes before, and the only sound was an occasional pop from the waning fire. The guests had gone home, and the sleeping arrangements were much less confusing than the night before. Tristan had retired to Billy's room half an hour earlier, leaving Rory and Ryan to make up the sofa bed. They were cuddled under the covers now, enjoying the silence after a day of revelry.
"I'm glad we got to spend our first Christmas together, Lorelai," Ryan murmured.
Rory smiled and snuggled closer to him. "So am I. It made the day perfect."
"Your family is amazing, have I told you that? It's incredible the way your mom and Luke open up their home to everyone. Even Tristan," he added, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice,
"Ryan…" she began, as she carefully chose her words, "does it bother you that Tristan is here?"
She felt him sigh behind her. "I know it shouldn't, but it does."
Rory rolled over so that she could face him, and propped herself up on one elbow. "Why?"
"I just…I don't trust him, Lorelai. Sure, I trust him to make business decisions and things like that, but… I've seen the way he looks at you. It's not the way you look at a friend."
Rory's conscience stung. She wanted to tell Ryan that he was imagining things, that there was nothing more between her and Tristan than friendship. It was practically the truth anyway. After all, she couldn't possibly see Tristan as anything more than that. But how could she tell Ryan that when she and Tristan had kissed—twice—just a little over twenty-four hours before? Sure, she told Tristan it didn't mean anything, and nothing more had happened, but somehow, she didn't think Ryan would accept the incident as being purely innocent. Finally, she spoke.
"Tristan is an honorable man. He respects your friendship, and your partnership. Nothing is going to happen between us."
Ryan recoiled slightly at her words. "You're not denying that he has feelings for you."
It was Rory's turn to sigh, but she couldn't quite meet his gaze as she replied. "I'm not inside Tristan's head. I can't tell you what he does or does not feel for me. All I know is that he would never do anything to deliberately hurt you."
Somewhat placated, Ryan allowed the subject to drop. Still, an uneasy thought kept running through his head as he struggled to fall asleep that night—Lorelai hadn't denied that Tristan might have feelings for her…and she also hadn't denied that she might have feelings for Tristan.
* * *
New Year's Eve sucks, Tristan thought morosely. He had fled to his apartment in New York the day after Christmas, desperate to escape the reality of Rory and Ryan. No one tried to stop him, although Lorelai gave him a meaningful stare as she hugged him goodbye.
Lane and Andy had tried to convince him to come to Boston for New Year's Eve, but he had begged off. He was perfectly content to wallow in his own self-pity, alone. Besides, Lane had to work that night, and hanging out in the hospital cafeteria until midnight, when his cousin tried to steal a kiss from Lane, wasn't overly appealing.
So here he was, alone in his apartment on New Year's Eve. It was eight o'clock in the evening, and he had been hearing revelers going past his door for the past few hours, heading for one party or another.
Tomorrow, he had decided, was going to be the first day of the rest of his life. He had held firm to the decision to dissolve his partnership with RJ, and was planning to make the announcement at the website launch party the following day. Lane and Andy had managed to convince him that moving abroad was unacceptable, but he thought he might at least take a few weeks to tour Europe.
He really wasn't sure what his next step would be, career-wise. He supposed to could start up a new website-design business, but his heart wasn't really in the work anymore. It wasn't like he actually needed to work, anyway—he was well-off enough that he could take a few years off, if not more.
He wasn't certain how Rory and Ryan were going to react to his decision to quit the partnership. So far, the only people who knew of his plans were Lane, Andy, Paris, and Jess. He suspected that Ryan would be pleased—the looks he had been shooting Tristan on Christmas Day indicated that the other man was aware of his less-than-platonic feelings for Rory.
Rory herself, of course, ever remained a puzzle to Tristan. If she stuck to her pattern of past behavior, she would choose to remain oblivious of Tristan's feelings for her, even while pleading with him to stay.
Suddenly, Tristan found himself wishing that it was already tomorrow, that the deed was already done. He felt a sense of impending freedom, and a restless energy was making him jittery. Impulsively, he decided to go for a run. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do.
* * *
In Stars Hollow, the annual Festival of the New Year was in full swing. Ryan couldn't help but wonder for a moment where exactly the small town got the funds to stage so many elaborate events.
His train of thought was derailed when he caught sight of Lorelai walking across the town square toward him. The biting chill in the sir had brought roses to her cheeks, her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and a beatific smile was like a beacon of joy. In short, she was breathtaking.
She was walking with Jess and Paris, who had insisted that even if she couldn't partake in the champagne toast at midnight, she could still enjoy the holiday. Jess had protested, saying it was too cold for her to be outside in her condition, but Paris silenced him with a patented stare.
"You look happy," Ryan commented as the trio got close.
"I am," Rory replied. "I love New Year's—the idea of a fresh start. Tomorrow is going to be amazing, too. Paris and I were just talking about how fantastic the website looks, and what a great asset it will be for the magazine." She wrapped her arms around his waist, and gazed up at him adoringly. "You and Tristan make a great team."
Paris had to bite her tongue. She didn't agree with Tristan's decision to spring his resignation on Rory and Ryan tomorrow, but she also couldn't fault him for wanting to extricate himself from the situation. She simply said instead, "They certainly did a wonderful job. The party tomorrow is going to be…unbelievable." She didn't react as Jess gave her a subtle nudge at her choice of words.
"So where is Tristan?" Rory asked. "I haven't talked to him since the day after Christmas, but I'm pretty sure he knows about the festival. I thought maybe he'd show up."
Ryan tightened his hold on Rory. "I'm sure he's living it up in New York City. You know Tristan—always the party animal."
"Actually," Paris piped up," I talked to him this afternoon. He's planning on staying in this evening."
"Really? That's too bad," said Rory. "We should give him a call. There's still time for him to make it down before midnight."
"I don't think that's…" Ryan began.
"That's a great idea," Paris cut him off, pulling out her cell phone. Moments later, she flipped closed the small electronic device, a frown on her face. "There's no answer."
"What did I tell you?" Ryan said triumphantly. "I bet he's out on the town, living the good life."
"Maybe," Paris conceded, wishing that, just once, Ryan wouldn't sound so smug.
* * *
Clad in sweats and running shows, Tristan heard the phone ringing as he locked his apartment door before heading out. He hesitated, but decided that if it was really important, whoever it was would leave a message. Putting it out of his mind, he headed for the elevator.
The car was empty when he boarded it, and he propped one foot up on the handrail to stretch. He was still in that position when the elevator stopped three floors down, and a pretty brunette stepped on, carrying a laundry basket.
Awkwardly, he put his foot on the floor as she smirked at him. "Hey there handsome. Going for a run?" she asked, her voice husky, sexy.
"Yeah. Doing laundry on New Year's Eve?" he teased with a grin.
"Yep."
"Hard to believe, a beautiful woman like you not going out tonight."
"Maybe I couldn't find anyone to go out with," she replied, a flirtatious tone entering her voice.
"I doubt that," he said, his own voice getting slightly lower and deeper.
"What about you?" she countered. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
"Truth?"
"That would be refreshing."
"The woman I'm in love with is practically engaged to my business partner."
"Ouch." She paused, and then said, "New Year's resolution."
"Pardon?"
"I promised myself that I wasn't going to start the new year by getting trashed and waking up next to some guy whose name I couldn't remember."
"I see. Well, I suppose you probably shouldn't ride an elevator with a nameless guy, either. I'm Tristan DuGrey."
The woman shifted her laundry to one hip, gave him a beaming smile, and stuck out her hand. "Brooke Davis. It's nice to meet you, Tristan."
"Pleasure to meet you, too." He waited a beat, then added, "You know, I really don't need to go running, and I'm guessing your laundry isn't a pressing matter. What do you say to a cup of coffee?"
Her brown eyes sparkled, and her dimples deepened. "That sounds nice."
"Great. I'll go change, and you can drop off your clothes, and we can meet in the lobby in, say, ten minutes?"
"Perfect."
To be continued…