Gilmore Girls

Uncanny

A/N: Hmm. I don't know what I think of it. I never re-read my writing because I'm scared I'll hate it and if I did, I'd never write anything so it might not make sense. Let me know if it doesn't. I think there's only going to be one or two more chapters left. Happy reading! Evie. xx

Summary: The voice on the answering machine. The picture on the entertainment. Both are eerily, uncannily familiar. L/R/T in London.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Gilmore Girls in anyway.

Rory laughed loudly as she unlocked the white wooden door and pushed it open. Her laugh cut off immediately as she stepped inside. She stepped out backwards, pushing Logan and Clarissa dangerously close to the top of the stairs. She slammed the door shut and then whirled around to lean against it, her breath coming out in choking gasps. Clarissa caught Logan's eye and nodded to the stairs. He looked concerned for Rory but nodded imperceptibly, not that it mattered because Rory was paying attention to no-one. The two could have done a rumba or a passionate tango in front of her and she wouldn't have realised.

"Umm, hon, Logan and I are going to run down to the shops and grab some food. I don't think there was much left in your cupboards," Clarissa said. Logan swallowed but leant forward and kissed Rory's sweaty forehead. Her eyes met his briefly and she swallowed. Her hands reached out for his and she squeezed them gratefully. He moved to kiss her but Clarissa grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him away. Rory turned back to the door and faced its stark whiteness. She took in a few deep breaths, swallowed and moved her hand to the bronze door handle. She turned it slowly and pushed her weight onto the door. It opened smoothly and flawlessly and she blinked a few times to see if what she saw was really what she saw.

"I thought I heard you come in," Tristan said, from his seat at the dining table. Rory closed the door behind her and opened her mouth to speak but all she could do was wave clumsily. She took a step towards him. "I wasn't expecting you home so soon. I thought I'd have to wait for hours."

"Tristan, I…"

"I don't want to hear you apologies, Mary," he said, with no trace of bitterness. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses."

"I wasn't going to apologise," she mumbled. She took a seat across from him and put her Balenciaga bag on the table between them as a barrier. He fixed her with a look and she relented. "But you know me better than that and you know I was going to apologise profusely. I just don't like hurting anyone."

"And neither do I," he replied. "And apparently I have no dignity either. I was going to tell you that I met someone else up in Newcastle and that was why I'd been going up there so much lately but I realised I was only doing it to hurt you and then I realised it wouldn't hurt you because you were in love with someone else so instead I sit here, unafraid to tell you that I am a broken man."

"Are you… angry with me?" she stuttered, knowing she deserved it if he was furious.

"Not angry," he admitted and she knew he wasn't lying. "Look, Rory, I was mad at first, then I was disappointed but now I'm just sad. I would have liked you to have been my wife. I would have liked to have had kids with you. I would have liked to retire with you, maybe open a restaurant or the like but I've always known you didn't want that with me. I guess it's just taken two years for the point to really, really hit home."

"I wanted that with you too," she answered. She looked broken and tried. "I really wanted that with you."

"But not as much as you wanted it with him," Tristan said, the faint trace of a sneer coming into his voice. Rory's face crumbled and she shook her head. "Rory, I don't want this to be bitter. I'm not saying it has to be a barrel of laughs but I don't want there to be screaming and fighting and I want there to be minimal tears and if at all possible, I want none of those tears to be from me. I'm broken beyond what I thought a man could be and heaven knows, I want you to be broken too. I just want you to feel even an iota of what I feel. That's why I didn't want to do this over the phone. I wanted to do it in front of you. I guess I kind of hoped that you would break down and cry, that you would beg me to stay."

"You have no idea how much I want to do that," Rory whispered. Her hands were clutching the leather bag between them so hard her knuckles were white. Tristan gave a little chuckle and she brought her eyes up to meet his.

"Yes but that's because you hate seeing me sad," he muttered darkly. "You don't want me to stay because you love me, you want me to stay because you hate that you've broken me. Never thought you had that much power over me, did you? Well, you should have known. I have been yours and wholly yours from the moment you moved in here. If you asked me to go to deepest darkest Africa for you, I would have said 'how long?'"

"I know," she whispered. "I know all that."

"But you just couldn't love me back," he replied.

"That's not true, Tristan. I loved you so much. I wanted it to be you so badly," she groaned. She let her head fall on the hard table and let the tears fall, making a pool on the heavy oak.

"I don't doubt that you loved me, Mare," he said and she felt relieved he had used her 'real' name. "You just didn't even have the decency to be the one to tell me that you were leaving me."

"I was going to tell you. Please believe me," she pleaded. "I didn't want to do it over the phone and in my heart of hearts, I knew you knew. I hate my mum for doing this. I really do."

"You know, I knew you and Lorelai were close but I never thought you'd stoop as low as getting her to dump me for you and I never thought she would actually do it," Tristan spat. There was no disguising the bitterness this time but in this case, Rory didn't deserve it. Her head snapped up from the table and she glared at him.

"Tristan, I swear to you that I had nothing to do with that," Rory said so harshly that he had no option but to believe her. "I don't know why she did this and I wish she hadn't. It wasn't how I'd planned it."

"It wasn't exactly how I'd planned it either," Tristan murmured. He looked at Rory, whose face was tearstained, and sighed. "I knew all along that you and Logan were right for each other. That was partly why I went away. I guess I just wanted you to realise it so you and I could be over and we could all move on. I had hoped that while I was away, I would accept it and come back here and be able to look you in the eye and feel nothing but I'm pathetic and it hurts and I can't pretend I don't still feel something when I look at you."

"Make it anger, make it hate," she begged. "Anything. Hate me as much as it's humanly possible to hate someone if it will make you feel better."

"I wish I could," he laughed mirthlessly. He looked like he was finished but then he added one more thing. "I guess I was kind of hoping that you would realise you could never be with a cad like Logan and that you were actually happy with me."

"I am sorry," she said sincerely. "And I really am sorry that my mother got to you first. I promise it was not what I wanted."

"I said no apologies," he said, the harshness returning. She had never seen him swing moods so severely before. Then again, he had never had his heart broken before. "It just makes this seem pathetic and too friendly. I know I said I didn't want a loud screaming confrontation but I don't want it to be amicable and friendly."

"I know," she clamoured. Silently she thought that an all-out blow-up would be better than the tense, dark almost silence they sat in. apparently, he suddenly felt the same.

"You know what? This shouldn't be amicable at all. You cheated on me and you didn't even have the decency to tell me! You should have called and asked me to come back early or just done it over the phone. Anything would have been better than finding out from your mother who isn't even in the country," he snapped. "And I guess now I get to tell you all the things about you that I hate. I hate that people buy the act you show them, that they think you're naïve and innocent. Mostly, I hate the fact that for the most part you really are naïve and innocent. I hate how things just easily fall into place for you. You never have to work. You have never had to work for anything you wanted. You didn't even have to work to get me to leave you. I hate that you are so beautiful and that you are so… I hate you right now."

"I deserve that," she said quietly. There was fire in his eyes and ice in hers. She could have sworn there was real steam in the air when their eyes met. "Tristan, I deserve all this but I think we deserve a good break-up. Write me a nasty letter and slip it under my pillow or leave nasty scathing messages on my answering machine. Or better yet, wait until you get a new girlfriend, tell her how awful I am and get her to leave nasty messages telling me how stupid I am to give up such a great, wonderful and caring guy. Because you are those things and more and you will move on."

"I don't know I'm even agreeing with you," he spat. "No matter what you say I say yes. I'm supposed to be the lion and yet I do everything you ask."

"I'm not doing this for me, God help me," she admitted. "I can handle everything bad you have to say about me because I know without a doubt that I deserve every single nasty thing you have to say about me but I'm a bad girl. You, Tristan Janlan DuGrey are a good guy and you love me and you will feel bad about saying these things."

"Don't remind me that I love you," he winced. He stood up and looked around at the darkened apartment. "I'm going to miss it here."

"Miss it?" she asked, her eyes widening. "What do you mean miss it here?"

"You didn't really think I could stay here, did you, Mary?" he asked.

"I, um, I don't know what I thought," she muttered. It had never actually occurred to her that Tristan would be leaving. She didn't know what she'd thought. Maybe that they'd continue living the way they had been except that Rory's bedroom would change and there'd be a lot more secrets. No, she knew it couldn't be that way.

"I just came to get my stuff and go," he explained. "I was kind of hoping I wouldn't even have to see you."

"So you got angry at me for not being the one to tell you and now you're saying you didn't want to see me?" she asked, confused. He shrugged and looked a little sheepish.

"I've been crying for hours," he admitted. "I can't believe I'm saying it but I was. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"I've seen it all, bucko," she said lightly. She stood up uncomfortably and looked at him, staring him down. "Logan and I can leave. This was your apartment first. You should stay. It'll be easy for us to get a new place."

"The last thing I want to do is stay here," he admitted. "Be reminded of you every minute I'm not at work? No, thank you."

"Understood," she said. She stood awkwardly, her eyes trained on the oven clock. "Umm… so…"

"Do you mind if I ask you to leave while I get the rest of my stuff?" he asked bluntly. He pointed to half a dozen monogrammed Louis Vuitton suitcases that his mother had passed onto them. "I've got most of it. There are just a few more things I need to get."

"Oh, right. Sure," she agreed. A lump the size of a fist appeared in her throat and she realised suddenly that she was going to miss him and she really, truly was sorry. She fixed him with a look that she hoped conveyed those things and it turned out they did because tears appeared in his eyes. She walked around the table and pulled him into a hug. To her surprise, he didn't fight back, he just fell into them. "I didn't mean to hurt you like this but you can't choose who you love."

"I know," he replied. She didn't deserve this, his complete understanding. It was wrong and she was taking advantage of it but she knew it. She also knew it would help them both, crazy it seemed. They pulled apart from their hug and he bore his soul into her eyes. She gulped and let the tears slip down her face. "I won't say goodbye or anything to cheesy."

"Good," she mumbled.

"Can I just ask you one question?" he asked tentatively. She nodded and he grimaced. "Did you…. did you sleep with him?"

"No, I didn't," she replied. "He kissed me and we talked and that was it. I promise."

"Good. Good. You should stay," he offered. "I wouldn't mind if you were here when I left. I promise I won't ask you to help me carry my suitcases or anything like that. I have some dignity."

"Whatever you want," she whispered. She pulled away from him and walked down the hallway and shut herself in Logan's room. She couldn't bear to leave the apartment with Tristan still in it even if he had wanted her too. She wanted his last minutes to be spent with her. Not selfishly but for his sake. She wouldn't them to end on a good note, it would make things easier for him in the future. She lay on Logan's bed for a full half an hour, her head on his pillow smelling his smell. With every breath she felt more certain and more sure that she had made the last decision. Finally, after a long time of swinging doors and scraping suitcases, a knock came at her door.

"I'm ready," he whispered. She nodded and left the room, following him down the hallway. "You don't have to do this, you know. I don't even know why I want you here. I guess I just want to pretend that I'm leaving on an extended holiday and that you'll be here when I get back."

"It's okay. It's fine," she promised. "I'll do whatever I have to do to make you… happy."

Her voice caught on the last word and he didn't miss it. He turned to her and bravely turned the door handle. He stepped out the door and held it open for her. She smiled and muttered 'thanks' before leaving. She walked down the stairs and waited on the next landing for him. She knew he would take one last long look at the place before he joined her and they made their last trek down the stairs outside to the pavement where his silver Porsche was waiting. She heard his footsteps tread on the stone coloured carpet and she took his hand in his when he met her.

They walked down the stairs and outside silently. They turned to each other and instinctively threw their arms around each other. Rory tilted her head up him, giving him the okay to kiss her which he did. It was a hot, heavy and passionate kiss, not exactly suitable for the pavement or for a couple who had just broken up. They broke apart and looked at each other, so many unsaid things in their eyes. Eventually they pulled apart and as promised, neither of them offered the words goodbye. He simply pulled away, kissed her on the forehead and stalked away to his convertible.

She watched him slide in and turn it on. In twenty seconds, he had swerved away from the curb and was on his way presumably to Laurie's house. Rory watched until the speeding silver bullet was out of view before she made her way up the stairs. When she got to the fifth floor, she considered crawling the other eight flights but her dignity stopped her. She cursed the fact they didn't live in a building with an elevator.

When she eventually reached the apartment, she let herself in and immediately collapsed onto the ground and broke into heart-wrenching, hysterical sobs. She let herself cry before she crawled over to the nearest portable phone. She dialed her mother's number and waited until her mother had picked up and asked who was there three times before she spoke.

"Why couldn't you have just stayed out of it?" she sobbed. "Why didn't you just leave it alone? I was in control. I knew what I was doing but you had to stick your nose into it and now he's gone…"