Author Note: There seems to be some confusion of the pairing in this story. I know Tristan is in the limelight now, but in the end, it will be a PDLD. A Finn & Rory story. Punch-Drunk-Love-Duo. And I have bumped the rating up to M for mature content, because well, it was suggested and I do agree that this fanfic will be a little racy.

I'm writing a PDLD, because I adore and love this pairing, and I really don't think there's to many PDLD's out there worth reading – I mean, yes, there's loads, but they're all one shots – or happy. This story will be evolving around Rory's defiance of her father, her parents divorce, Yale, having this sordid affair, and on top of it all, being swept off her feet by our favorite Australian. I think this will be a worth-while read, and I'm just hoping that many people will read this. So shout the name of this fanfic off of roof-tops, force it onto people, I don't care. I'm just doing this because I love to write, and I love the feeling I get when I wake up in the morning, or come home from school and see that I have even just one new review. It's a natural high.

Chapter Two: Personal Tour-Guides

Europe with her grandmother proved to be an interesting adventure within itself. They'd traveled to the Marseille harbor at the south of France , sailed across the Mediterranean sea, and visited the tip of Africa, before taking another boat to Sicily to see the grape orchards. She'd bathed in the glory that was once ancient Greece, discovered the lengths of how true Shakespeare was when he said Italy was more then a dream, but a breathtaking story within itself, waiting to unfold, and have the world know her story. She'd eaten Belgium waffles in Belgium, daydreamed while crossing the English Channel from Calais, France, to England.

And every sight she had seen in those short two months, would be long lived in her memory.

When Rory returned home three days before she was off to Yale for her second year, she found her mother sitting on the front steps, grasping a cup of coffee in her hands. She smiled when she saw her mother's face light up when Rory stepped out of her white Range Rover.

"Rory!" Lorelei cried, jumping up, and running to her daughter in greeting, careful not to spill her beloved drink. "Ah, fruit of my loins! My life's blood! The child who I have given my name too!"

"Mom," Rory said, "How are you? How have you been?"

Lorelei let out an aggravated sigh, "I would be better if your father stayed home a bit more."

Rory's face fell when her father was mentioned, but she quickly masked her repulsion for her father when the maid came out of the mansion to carry her bags inside. "I've missed you, mommy.." Rory said, hugging her mother again.

"No need to get so clingy!" Lorelei laughed, taking a hold of her daughter's hand, leading her inside. "Movie night. I thought we'd start with the classics: Casablanca, an Affair to Remember, and of course Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory."

"Of course." Rory said nodding.

"Now, I had taken it upon myself to go to the store and stack up on all possible junk food items: Marshmallows, Red Vines, Netcos, Reese's Cups, Snickers, Hot Tamales, Pop Corn with extra butter, and just because I know Luke would have a heart attack if he knew what we were eating, and he couldn't lecture us, I bought carrot sticks!"

"Carrots? Gross." Rory shuddered, following her mother up the stairs towards their movie room.

"Yes well, it was either something orange, or something green, and green would have definitely clashed with the room."

"Definitely."

---&---

Halfway through their second movie, An Affair to Remember, the maid, Jessica, came into the room and announced that there was a phone call for Rory. Rory groaned, and stood up, walking to the opposite side of the movie room, picking up the phone receiver off of the hook.

"Hello?" she asked, irked with this person calling during her and her mother's bonding time.

"Mary, Mary, Mary Magdalene," came the voice over the phone. Rory rolled her eyes and began to inspect her finger nails, "I was hoping for a repeat of that night in June."

"Which one was that again?" Rory asked, deciding to play along with him.

Tristan's jaw dropped on the other side of the phone, and he soon found himself wanting a repeat of that night even more. "The one where I made every one of your dreams come true."

"Oooh! Is this Jason?"

"Rory," Tristan half warned, half pleaded, "What do you say? I come over, we make a little mischief and I leave?"

"As tempting as that sounds, Lucifer," Rory said, turning to look at her mom, mouthing 'sorry', "I'd much rather spend the night with my mother. Night, night."

Rory placed the phone back down on the cradle, before regaining her seat next to Lorelei. She smiled at her mother, before leaning forward and popping three Hot Tamales in her mouth. "What?"

"Lucifer?"

"Tristan."

"Brad Pitt?"

"Bible boy." Rory confirmed, pressing play on the remote control, getting ready to mock the up coming scene where Nickie discovers the painting in his love's apartment at the end of the movie. "Mom…" Rory started slowly.

"Hmn?"

"I'm tired.."

"It's ten!"

"Jet lag."

"Ah, of course. See you in the morning, babe."

---&---

His house was exactly as Rory remembered it. Tall, daunting, and cold. Her eyes trailed over the green ivy vine that crawled over the cold gray stone that the manor was built with. She bit her lip, bringing her fist to knock on his door. It looked like a dark stained oak, just as daunting, and wreaking of importance as the rest of his manor.

She wanted this. She wanted to kick her school year off with a bang. Literally.

Clutching the keys to her Range Rover even tighter in the palm of her left hand, she knocked with her right. She didn't want to ring the doorbell. She wanted her presence to be unexpected. She didn't want him to know she was there. She was a surprise.

The door pulled open suddenly, and Rory jumped back. She had been very jumpy lately, and she didn't understand why. "Hi…" Rory said, unsurely, biting the left corner of her bottom lip. "Is Tristan home?"

The maid nodded, and pulled the door open, allowing Rory to enter. The maid helped Rory pull out of her jacket. "He's in his room, miss." She said, carrying Rory's coat over her arm, motioning towards the stairs.

"Could you show me?"

The maid nodded, and walked towards the stairs. Rory obediently followed her, ignoring the paintings that adorned the walls. She ignored the smell of cigars seeping under the door from one of the rooms, and the sounds of Frank Sinatra from another. All she could focus on was why she was here. Was it for closure? A good time? Why was she here?

They stopped abruptly in front of a door Rory barely recognized as Tristan's. The maid knocked, "Master Tristan…"

"Come in," he called. The maid opened the door, and Rory stood to the side, hoping to give Tristan a surprise.

"You have a visitor."

"Send them in." he said, looking back down at his desk, to the papers he was looking over were located.

The maid nodded, taking a backwards step, allowing Rory to step in front of her, and into the doorway of Tristan's room. "Some room you've got here," she said coolly, leaning against his door frame, "Although," she said, smirking once he looked up, taking the sight of her in, "I think it would be so much better if you had a Yale poster hanging above your bed."

"Do you now?

"Mmm.."

Tristan pushed himself out of his chair, and pushed it in, before walking towards, placing his hands in his pockets. "So what brings you here, Mary?"

"Oh you know," she said.

"Do I know?"

Rory rose her eyebrows, and pushed herself off of the door frame and fully into his room, looking around. "I don't even remember your room," she said, looking over her shoulder at him, watching him close the door. "All I remember is your terrace and your bed."

"You can get reacquainted with my bed, Mary."

"Can I now?"

"Mhmm," he said, snaking an arm around her waist from behind, bringing his chest flush against her back as he pressed butterfly kisses down her neck, shoving her hair out of the way, "I'll even be your personal tour guide."

Rory grinned, twirling herself around in his arms to face him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips. "And is this tour going to begin anytime soon?"

"Just say the words, Mary."

"Give me a tour, Bible Boy."