Disclaimer: C chappie #1.
Torn VIII:
"Wowy, Wowy," Owen burst into the room with Seth trailing behind him, and jumped onto her bed.
"What what?" she asked looking up from her laptop, taking off her glasses.
"Can you wead for us?" Owen asked, raising a book in his hand for all to see.
"Yeah, can you wead for us?" Seth asked, plopping down on her bed and resting his head in the palms of his hand.
"Where's Mom?"
"She's teachin' Twistan how to change Wiwy's diapa'. He's got his nosey pinched." Seth mimicked Tristan's reaction.
"Aww, what would you like me to read?"
"The Cat in the Hat Comes Back." Owen answered placing the book on the bed and opened it for her.
Closing the screen to her laptop, Rory settled in the middle of the bed with Owen and Seth on either side of her. Sending a placid smile to both kids, she opened the book and launched the tale of a boisterous cat and two kids who needed to learn to say no.
"Hey, Ror-" Tristan began but stopped as he entered the room.
His eyes settled on the sight before him and he couldn't help the smile that curled his lips.
Rory was lying in the middle of her bed with Owen and Seth asleep on either side of her. On the nightstand beside her bed the lamp was still on, and 'The Cat in the Hat Comes Back' lay open above Owen's head, still open to the page they'd left off on.
What brought the twinkle to his eye was the thought that this was how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to walk in one day, pick up the baby and enter his bedroom to find Rory Gilmore lying in his bed with two of their kids lying beside her, sleeping peacefully. He was supposed to lean against the doorjamb and watch the incredible sight, listen to the gentle breathing of his two little boys, and feel the warmth of his baby in his arms.
He twisted his head and looked at little Lily in his arms. She, too, was looking at the trio before her, with one of her little hands in her mouth. Her blue eyes twinkled as she turned her head and looked at Tristan . . . and that was when the first tear fell.
It was that moment when he realized how much he actually loved Rory Gilmore. That was the moment when he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. That was the moment when he knew none of it ever mattered, compared to that moment. He loved her. He loved her and needed her in his life forever.
And then Lily leaned her head on his shoulder and brought her chubby hand to his sunken cheek.
"Tristan?" Lorelei came from behind, ready to hand him the bottle in her hand. "You forgot th-"
He turned to her, and the words fell from her lips. The look on his face was unmistakable. Before he could reply she reached up her arms and placed them on his face. With the simple flick of her thumb, she wiped away his tears and said,
"I know."
He turned back to look at her and sighed.
"I want this . . . I want her."
"And she wants you . . . she just doesn't know it yet." She shrugged with a crooked smile.
He looked down at the little girl lying in his arms, and smiled.
"Hey, why don't I take Lily and you go back to the Inn, and turn in for the night. Tomorrow is going to be tough enough; you should at least get some sleep."
"Yeah," he breathed handing Lily to Lorelei who pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Tristan DuGrey, it would be an honor for you to be a part of my family. And I hope that my daughter, with all her expensive education, will realize what everyone else does, before it's too late."
"Me too." He managed a smile before kissing both the girls and leaving.
It was two a.m.
Two a.m. and he still could not fall asleep.
Tristan lay on his back, his eyes staring blindly at the ceiling, the mosaic tile bleeding together to form a muted image.
His mind kept reverting back to the night before, when he held her in his arms, and tasted her breath on his lips. The night the fireworks exploded in his eyes, and fireflies danced in his heart. The night her lips brushed against his and his fingertips ignited with the touch of her skin. The night when she was so close . . . and was pulled so far away.
His heart had hammered in his chest, beating against his ribs as if attending a Korn concert and was in the middle of the moshpit. Her body was so close to his- he could almost feel her heart beating against his chest- and her lips a breath away. . . and then-
"Hey guys, the fireworks are starting!"
When Lorelei burst through the balcony doors he felt his heart explode in his chest and had to catch himself on the railing. When his breath finally returned back to his body, their eyes met again, and he could feel his whole being crash into her eyes.
"Let's go," she whispered, taking his hand in hers and turned to leave the veranda.
The entire night they stood beside one another, hand in hand, back to the way it was before, only this time, their almost-kiss was weighing down on their backs. It wasn't until very late, when they were sent to awaken the babes, that they finally spoke about what had happened.
"Look Rory, I'm sorry," he breathed as they stood behind the door.
"I'm sorry too," she looked into his eyes; hers seemed to search his for something unspoken.
"I shouldn't have done that, it was wrong-"
"It shouldn't have happened like that-" she'd said simultaneously, dropping her eyes.
"What?" they both asked at the same time.
"You thought it was a mistake?"
"You didn't?"
She looked him in the eyes- blue on blue.
He was underwater, chasing a siren. Every moment that he could feel her beside him, she was just an arm stretch away, just an inch from his grasp. Her song had captivated him, her beauty intoxicated him, and her eyes suffocated him. He needed to reach her, to find her, to understand that part of her that seemed to speak to him . . . but first, he needed to feel her.
"We're good friends, Tristan, I'm not going to deny that," she shook her head, flicking the curl from her forehead. "But, we're not ready for that . . . I'm not ready for that and I think we should really take the time as friends before we conquer what we're not ready for."
He nodded his head, and smiled,
"At least you don't think that was a mistake."
A cute little chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned forward and pressed her head against his shoulder.
"Tristan," she grinned looking up at him with twinkling eyes, "every kiss that I've ever given to you was never a mistake."
"You've only given me one kiss," he pointed out.
"It wasn't a mistake," she smiled.
"Could've fooled me, you cried the first time," he noted.
"Yeah- well, you were a horrible kisser." She quipped, with a brow raised.
"Wait," he gasped, "you said that it was a nice kiss . . . not at all crying material?"
"What can I say, I'm a great actress." She shrugged.
"Hey, give that back!" he cried looking down at her.
"Give what back?"
"That was my smirk, you stole my smirk!"
Rolling her eyes, she gave him a toothy grin, "You can have it back."
"You bet I can, you thief. I should report you to the authorities. First you're stealing teenage boys' hearts, now you're stealing their smirks. What's next 'Sticky Fingers Gilmore?'"
"Shut up," she smacked his arm and rolled her eyes, "and go wake the babes!"
"Sticky-Fingers!" he breathed, ruffling back his hair.
A soft laugh, like the tinkling of water, fell from her lips.
"Hey Ror, thanks for doing this for me," Luke smiled wiping his hands off with a dishtowel.
"Luke, you should know I would never turn down unlimited, free coffee."
"Thank God, I was afraid I was going to have to ask Lore. She would eat this place out of business if she could."
"If only I could live up to her greatness," she said with a wistful smile.
"I'm hoping you do," Luke grinned pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"So, speaking of your wife, what do I do when the coffee fiend comes in?"
"Give her three cups of coffee . . . no more, no less."
"What if the babes tag along?"
"Two . . . no more, no less."
Standing behind the counter, she turned to Caesar, "An order of bacon please."
"Rory, don't abuse your power," Luke warned.
"Luke, you've met me before. I could have ordered SO much more!"
"You're right," he sighed, scratching his head and replacing his cap.
"Remember to send Jess in at noon; I'm spending lunch at Lane's."
"She's really sick, huh?"
"Yeah, the flu."
"Well, we're preparing some soup, just for her. Just remind Caesar when you're ready to go, and he'll get it ready for you."
"Aye, aye captain," she saluted.
"And when Kirk comes in, you cannot feed him dairy. He knows not to eat it, but will insist. Then when he gets an allergic reaction, he threatens to sue."
"No dairy for Kirk, check." She nodded.
"And Ms. Patty cannot weasel her way out of paying. She's been sexually harassing me for years now, and it's time she pays up."
"New Mommy must pay for sex, check."
"That's gross," he scowled. "And if Morgan or Jayden do show up, they get to bus."
"Teenagers are my slaves, check and mate," she nodded.
"Thanks again kiddo."
"Hey, Luke?"
"Yea?"
"Can you accidentally on purpose hit Tristan on the finger and make him bleed?" she asked while twisting her fingers.
"Rory, that's mean," he frowned. "I thought he was your friend?"
"Oh, he is," she reassured him, her blue eyes wide. "I'm thinking of him. For rich people, manual labor scars are like war scars. I'm just thinking of him. In five years he'll be sitting by the fire with his supermodel wife and his two adorable blond, blue-eyed angels. And in an animated voice he'd recount to them the day he almost died while nailing a spot for a photo. He'll swear he almost saw God during his near death experience."
Luke chuckled, "I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything."
"Well, good luck out there, make me proud." She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Ok, bye Rory, and tell Lore and the babes I said I'll see them later."
"Bye. And Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're part of the family."
"So am I," he grinned before heading out the front door, the tinkling of the bell reverberating behind him.
"Caesar," she called placing the order on the rack and turning back to the patron. "Coffee?"
"And a piece of pie?" he asked, taking a few napkins from the dispenser as she put the coffee cup before him.
The bell on the door tinkled again as she meted the coffee into the cup. Looking up, she sighed. Coming into the diner were Dean, Lindsey and Daisy, their five year old.
Placing the coffee pot back in its holder, she left the comfort of the counter and made her way towards their table.
"Rory!" Dean smiled, looking up at her in surprise. "It's been around the town that you're back; we've just been waiting to see you."
"Yeah," Lindsey smiled, pushing her blonde curls from her face.
"Well, we've been busy. In fact, tomorrow I'm driving up to Boston to go visit my Dad and Gigi."
"So, how've you been?" Lindsey asked, "Are you back for the holidays?"
"Fine and yes. In fact, the night before last we spent at the Gilmore's Annual Independence Day Gala. It was fun, great fireworks." She nodded, pulling her notepad from her apron.
"Have you decided to move back yet?"
"Not yet. Paris is exciting and fun. I love Star's Hallow, but I plan on living abroad for a few more years."
"Ya' know, I heard a funny thing the other day." Dean smiled with a contemplative look.
"And what might that be?" she smiled, winking at Daisy.
"Hi Wowy!" Daisy yelled, still not able to differentiate between her inside voice and outside voice.
"Hey Daisy," she leaned down and played a kiss to Daisy's cheek.
"That Tristan DuGrey and his Grandfather were staying at the Dragonfly Inn, and that they were personal guests of yours? Isn't Tristan the guy from Chilton who got into a fight with me the one time?" Dean grinned.
"That one time, doesn't sound familiar. Now if you had said 'that couple of times', I would know what you're talking about," she smirked. "And they are personal guests of mine, and we've become friends." She said straightening herself.
"Is he as great a person as before?"
"He's different . . ." she smiled to herself, tapping her pen on the notepad. "So, what would you like?"
"Pancakes!" Daisy bounced in her seat, her blonde pigtails flying up in the air.
"Good choice and the 'rents?
"I'll have the ham and cheese omelet, and orange juice." Lindsey put down her menu.
"And Dad?"
"That makes me sound old," he grinned. "But I'll have toast and a paper. And some coffee."
"Good choice, old timer."
"I'm not old!"
"Sure, you just basically said no to sugar. It's like you're afraid your dentures might fall out."
"She's right," Lindsey laughed. "You're starting to sound like your Dad."
"I'm only twenty-five . . . damn, now I'm going to have to start acting like an idiot."
"That'll definitely make you appear younger," Lindsey nodded.
"Ok, two donuts and a large glass of milk, and chocolate milk for Daisy."
"Chocolate Milk!" she grinned bouncing even more, her brown eyes twinkling.
Turning to place the order into Caesar, the bell tinkled again and in walked Lorelei and the babes.
"Hey chickadee," she grinned sitting at a table with little Lily on her lap.
"Hey Mom," she smiled placing the order in to Caesar and going in the back to get out some milk.
"So, my hubbie's got you working for him?"
"Well, you got him and half the town working for you, even Kirk has signed up for the save the Gilmore-Danes roof fund. I'm amazed that there's even anyone in here."
"Yeah, well we give a little and take a little." She shrugged.
"So, Mrs. Danes, what will it be?"
"Giant blueberry muffin with the largest cup of coffee here . . . that means the pot. Applesauce for baby Lily," then she turned to Owen and Seth, "What about you two?"
A smile curled her lips as Seth and Owen launched into an elaborate breakfast order.
For the millionth time that day, the bell tinkled on the door, informing Rory of another customer. With Daisy screaming in the corner, Seth and Owen making a ruckus upstairs, Lily squealing as Lorelei changed her diaper upstairs, and that damn bell's incessant ringing, she felt the familiar pounding in her head that was usually associated with a hangover.
"Hey beautiful," a voice rose above the noise.
"Will you miss me when I commit suicide?"
"When are you going to do that?"
"In five minutes, any last words?"
"Yeah, I want my Ramones t-shirt back, along with my Oxford sweater and my White Sox cap."
"Sorry, I'm being buried in that, anything else?" she asked looking up from the counter she'd been wiping.
"Don't go. If you do, Miss Patty will have nothing to hold her back from pinching my ass."
"So true," she grinned looking around him. "So, what brings you here? Aren't you supposed to be building a roof?"
"The men said I'm useless, they sent me to retrieve fuel."
"We don't sell Gatorade." She shrugged trying her damnedest not to look at his sculpted bare chest. She had to check herself from leaning over and pressing the pads of her fingers against his skin. She wanted to press her tongue against his hard, golden skin, tasting the saltiness of him and hear the hissing of his breathing. She wanted to run her fingers over his flat nipples until he breathed her name, passion dripping thickly from his lips as his eyes fluttered close and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.
"Well you're in luck, because Gatorade isn't on my list. Instead I'd like five double cheeseburgers, no pickles . . ." he began reading from a tiny list in his hands. After reading the list, he looked up, ". . . Why didn't you write any of that down?"
"Sorry, against dining policy."
"What dining policy?" he asked with a brow raised.
"No shoes, no shirt, no service."
"I've got on shoes." He insisted.
"It's an all for one package, and you're missing some key items, sorry."
"What if I give you a dollar?"
"Nothing costs a dollar anymore except long distance, and all the people I know live here."
"What if I give you a pony?"
"I already got one at the Dragonfly. His name is Buttercup."
"What if I give you liquor?"
"Preaching to the choir, I already downed a few tumblers." She quipped.
"Uh, Dave Navarro?"
"Ding, ding ding! You bring in sexy lips, and I'll serve you."
"Ya' know, saying that has just pushed the women's movement back four hundred years?"
She shrugged.
"After Brittany Spears sang that song, 'I'm a Slave for you,' there's been nothing to push back. She completely led us back to the Victorian era- do you want your shoe shined, governor?" she ended in a bad English accent.
"Hey Ror," a voice announced as that damn bell rang again, "It's lunch time, I'm takin' over."
Jess rounded the counter, pulling an old Nirvana t-shirt over his head and taking off his tool belt.
"Hey Hollywood." He nodded to Tristan.
"New nickname?" she raised a brow.
"I'm from the bloody East Coast; I'm no more from Hollywood than you are." He groaned, running his hands through his disheveled hair.
"It's 'cuz you're a pretty boy." Jess said while placing the notepad Rory gave him in his back pocket.
"You think I'm pretty?" he gasped in mock exclamation.
"Shut up."
"Because I've always dreamed of being called pretty by Jess Mariano. I mean, he's so hot! If only he weren't married to that damned Paris Gellar, we would so run away to Canada and get the proof of our love recognized!"
"I'm not leaving Frenchy for you," Jess groaned, "Now Johnny Depp, maybe. But you . . . nah, Hollywood."
"But I love you..." Tristan began with a Southern Accent.
"You guys are mental." Rory rolled her eyes, turning to Caesar and asking for Lane's soup.
"You're leaving?" Tristan asked, watching as she pulled free her apron and placed it on the counter top.
"Lane's still sick; I'm bringing her soup and gossip. It seems that Ms. Patty was caught kissing Taylor in the gazebo last night." She smiled.
In moments, everyone in the diner had pulled out their cellphones and were whispering about the latest taste of drama.
"Really?" both Tristan and Jess asked leaning closer.
"Nah, but it would be great, wouldn't it?"
Caesar came out and handed Rory a large Tupperware dish, and went back into the kitchen.
"I'll walk you to the Kim's."
"Thanks." She grinned, pulling her hair into a ponytail and freeing herself from the counter. "And Jess, no dairy for Kirk, Ms. Patty has to pay, Jayden and Morgan bus, and don't serve Tristan-"
"Hey!" he reproached.
"No shoes no shirt, Man," Jess called. "The golden rules."
"Hey Lane." Rory grinned entering the bedroom she knew like her own.
"What's that you got there?" she asked through a stuffy nose and watery eyes.
"Soup, specialty from Lu-"
"Mama, mama!" Lane screamed in a husky voice.
In moments she heard the heavy poundings of Mrs. Kim's feet on the stairs and then she was in the doorway.
"She's trying to kill me, Mama." She replied when Mrs. Kim confiscated the Tupperware dish from Rory.
"Rory, I thought you would know better. You live with her for God's sakes. Don't bring her food; she's been throwing up at the sight of it for days now!"
"I'm sorry." She looked at Lane, "really."
When Mrs. Kim had left, Rory sat down at the chair beside her bed.
"So, have you seen Dave yet?"
Lane shook her head.
"Mama's convinced that he gave me the flu, so we've only spoken on the telephone, monitored of course by 'Mommy Dearest.'"
"I'm sorry that you're sick during your holiday."
"It's okay; it's my own fault really. I should have taken my vitamin C. I'm a doctor for god sakes. I know all that damn recycled air on the plane would eventually screw me! I know that whenever one person on a plane has a cold, everyone gets it. Why didn't I just take the damn supplements? I'm a failure!"
"No you're not!" she frowned. "Ya wanna' watch some soap operas? My mom taped a few weeks of General Hospital; we can make fun of this week's Lucky?"
"Oh, I don't know, after the original, each one has been a step down from the one before it. Why won't Jonathan Jackson realize that he doesn't have a movie career anymore and just go back to the show? Then he could build up his fan base again!"
"I don't know, but Tuck Everlasting wasn't a good enough movie for him to think he's made it."
"I agree," she groaned. "Let's watch."
TBC . . .
A/N: Took me long enough. I'm sorry, but finding inspiration for this story has been weaning. It took me a long time to write this chapter, but I'm glad I did it because that cliffhanger was just mean. Even I was asking myself what happened. I hope this answers a lot of questions and makes you happy.
w/ luv, Yo-yo