Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. Who checks this anyway?
A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews, I really appreciate hearing your guys' opinions on Hotel Paper and on the direction of this story. Like I said, you may rest assured that this is Rory and Tristan will be together in the end. And to those of you who worry that this story is only being written out of a sense of obligation, that isn't true. I wouldn't write it unless I was excited about it. I may not have planned on writing it, but that does not mean that I don't love it. And I apologize that I won't be able to post this as frequently as I posted Hotel Paper. I had already completed that story before I posted it, so all I had to do was upload a chapter every day. But things are crazy right now, and I'm already kicking myself for starting something when I already have too much on my plate.
But I do this every year in June when I should be putting all my attention into the end of school. I guess I just like to take my mind off of math finals...but whocould blame me?
Chapter Two: Golden Slumbers
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I just shot a man. It was only a boat."
Tristan scooted down on the bed so that he was lying on his side; Rory remained propped up against the headboard. "I'm just surprised, is all."
Rory averted her eyes, but not before catching his look of disappointment turn into a smirk.
"Mary, Mary, Mary. You never cease to surprise me."
She turned back to him, not taking part in the joke. Her face was still, but her eyes were not cold or distant.
"Three years ago you come to me saying that my sweet Mary had slept with a married man. She was an adulterer if you must. And now here we are. You stole a boat, went to jail, did hundreds of hours of community service which included highway trash pickup, dropped out of Yale," he shook his head and tsk'd at her. "I never thought I would see the day that my Mary had a longer criminal record than I did."
"Well technically the only part of what you mentioned was the boat and the community service…"
"Although you think I am some evil criminal, Mary, I shall inform you that I do not have a record."
That simple statement coupled with the smug grin on his face caused Rory to glare at him. But Tristan only laughed and mocked bowing down to her.
"Stop it," she pleaded. He did not obey, so she got off the bed and headed to the mini bar. She pulled the last bottle of alcohol out, and opened it quickly.
"Well, I've told you all about myself, but what have you been up to?" she asked, trying desperately to change the subject.
Tristan shrugged. "I graduated…"
Rory congratulated him, and passed him the bottle. He took a long pull.
"What else?"
"I walked out on Shelly."
Rory nodded. She wanted to press him for more details but she understood that he had none to give. Although her life had been full of experiences and milestones, Tristan seemed to have spent the years walking the same path he had been on the last time they had seen one another.
They allowed a few minutes to pass in silence as they passed the bottle between them. Tristan picked at the comforter as he tried to work up the courage to ask her about Logan.
"So…Huntzberger?" he finally spat out. It sounded a little more bitter than he had intended, but it would have to do.
Rory nodded without looking up at him. "Yah, Logan."
"Are you still together?"
She nodded again as she tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that flooded into her chest. How would Logan react if he found out that she was in a hotel room drinking with another guy? With an ex no less? He probably wouldn't think much of it, she realized. A sigh escaped Rory's lips, expelling some of the hurt that the thought had caused her.
Tristan studied her carefully. "Where is he?" he asked quietly.
"London."
"For vacation?"
Rory shook her head and sank down on the pillows until she was on her side facing Tristan. "He runs the London branch of his father's corporation. He's been there for just over a year now."
"Do you see him often?" he asked, not caring if he was pushing a boundary.
"I flew out during my Spring Break, but I probably won't be seeing him again until Christmas."
Tristan heard the struggle in her voice; the simple statement had come out in a forced calm, but he could see the hurt that the separation was causing her. He could hear it in her voice and see it reflected in her eyes.
"Is there a plan?" he asked, pushing further.
Rory shrugged her shoulder. "I guess we will see what happens when after I finish grad school…"
"But until then?"
She shook her head again. "Look, Tristan. I really don't want to talk about all of this. It's late, and I should be going."
"Where?"
"Home," she answered. She remained laying on the bed.
"You can't drive like this."
"You drove me here, anyway. I'll get a cab," she said half-heartedly.
"Don't be so stupid."
"Don't call me stupid, stupid," she said, drowsily.
Tristan smiled. Her comebacks were at the fourth grade level; she was falling asleep.
"Stay with me?" he whispered.
"You're a big boy, the boogie man won't eat you."
"I just left my fiancée, you can't leave me alone in my grief tonight."
"Grief?" Rory snorted.
"Please," he whispered.
She stood up slowly and navigated her way across the room.
"Ror?"
"Relax," she called back to him. "I'm just going to the bathroom."
Tristan smiled and stood too. He removed his tux jacket, tie, and cumber bun and tossed them on the chair. He hesitated for a moment. He was uncomfortable in his shirt and pants, but thought it would be inappropriate to remove them--it might bother Rory.
But he pushed all thoughts aside and removed his restrictive clothing until he wore nothing but his boxers.
"Tristan," Rory scolded when she stepped out of the bathroom and saw him tossing his clothes onto the sitting chair.
"Yes," he replied innocently.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting ready for bed."
Rory just stared at him.
"Well I usually sleep in the nude, but I thought that--"
Rory shook her head and scolded him again.
"You act like you have never seen me naked before," he said, his face serious but his tone teasing.
"I know I have, but--"
"And did you or did you not enjoy my nudity?"
"Well…"
"Rory?"
"I did but--"
"Thank you," he said, moving his hands to the waistband of his boxers and moving to slip them off.
"Tristan!" she yelled.
"Kidding, kidding," he replied putting his hands in the air. Rory just shook her head and lie back down on the bed. Tristan joined her, and they laid in silence for several minutes.
"So you didn't even tell Shelly?" she asked at length.
"No," Tristan sighed. "I couldn't."
"Do you regret it?"
Tristan could feel her eyes searching his face, waiting to read the truth in his eyes. He kept his gaze resolutely on the ceiling. "I know I will tomorrow."
The silence set in on them again. When he thought she had drifted off to sleep, he spoke. "Thank you for staying with me," he whispered.
"Thank you for staying with me," she responded, making Tristan's heart skip a beat.
Tristan leaned over and kissed her forehead softly, eliciting a soft sigh from her pink lips. He pulled the heavy comforter over them, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of her soft, steady breathing.
---
---
Rory stirred in Tristan's arms, causing him to wake up. He was surprised to find her there, surprised to see how easy it had been to pull her back to him in sleep. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was.
She woke up shortly, pulling away from him as she stretched.
"Ugh," she grumbled. "My head is killing me."
"Well you did empty out the mini bar…"
She yawned in concession. "What time is it?"
"One eighteen," he said, checking the clock by the bed.
"In the afternoon?"
He closed his eyes and nodded. His head hurt too. He didn't usually get hangovers, but he must have lost track of how much he drank last night.
Rory groaned and buried her face in the soft, down pillow. All she could think about was her head and the fact that she had just spent the night with Tristan. Even if nothing had happened it just felt so…
Tristan's cell phone rang, the noise piercing through each of their heads. Tristan reluctantly crawled out of bed in order to find it and silence the noise. It was on the floor next to his discarded jacket. He checked the call ID; it was his father. He quickly silenced the phone and put it on the bedside table before getting back into bed.
They both fell asleep again, sleeping off their hangovers. When Tristan awoke there was a note from Rory. She had returned home, but promised to call him the next day. He looked at his cell phone. There were six missed calls, all of them from his father.