"Wake up Mar, we're home."
"Huh?" she said sleepily.
"You fell asleep in the car between the airport and the house, and we're here now, so you need to wake up enough to get out of the car. I don't mind if you sleep here, but the driver probably has other people to pick up," Tristan teased as he opened the door of the black town car.
Rory rubbed her eyes and slid across the seat towards the door. Tristan extended his hand to help her out of the car.
The driver stood patiently by the side of the car next to the luggage he had pulled from the trunk. "Do you need help getting the luggage into the house Sir?" he asked kindly.
"That'd be great actually," Tristan told him, giving him a $20 handshake. "Come on Mary," he said as he picked her up and carried her towards the house, leading the way up the path to their brownstone for the driver to follow.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking you know," she mumbled sleepily.
"I know babe, but this is our first entrance into the house as husband and wife, it would be wrong if I didn't carry you over the threshold." He smiled down at her, as she nestled into his chest. When he reached the door, he adjusted his grip on his wife and fumbled around in his pocket for the house keys. He got the door open, and strode purposefully into the foyer while the driver hauled the suitcases in right behind them.
"If that is all sir?" the driver asked, making sure they were done before he left.
"Yes, thank you very much," Tristan told him.
The driver smiled and left the house, heading back to his car, leaving the newlyweds in peace.
"Come on Mary, let's get you into bed," Tristan said to the woman sleeping in his arms. He started towards the stairs to head up to their bedroom.
"You know, we're married, you know I'm not a Mary, do you think you'll ever let that name drop?" she asked quietly with a yawn.
"Nope. You'll always be my Mary, like it or not."
She was silent as he carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom. He walked over to the bed and dropped her on it, jolting her awake with the bounce.
"What the-" she started.
"I know you're tired, but we can't let our first night in this house as a married could go by uncelebrated."
She opened her eyes and looked around the room. There were rose petals everywhere. She blinked a few times, making sure she wasn't seeing things, then looked up at her husband. "Did you do this?"
"Nope. But I think I know who did."
Rory looked around the room again, looking for clues. Next to the fireplace was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, and a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries, expertly painted with both white and dark chocolate. On the dresser was a thermos full of coffee and a tray of Mallomars.
"My mother was here!" she exclaimed suddenly wide-awake. She ran to retrieve her cell phone from her purse.
"Rory, I bet a call to your mom could wait until tomorrow morning," Tristan told her. "We don't want the champagne to get warm or the coffee to get cold."
It was too late, she was already dialing.
"Loin-fruit!" Lorelai answered on the first ring.
"Mom!"
"How was Barbados?"
"Two weeks of bliss."
"Did you enjoy my surprise?"
"Not yet, we just got home and I had to call to say thank you."
"You called me before you drank champagne, ate Mallomars and took that gorgeous hunk of a husband of yours to bed? Have I taught you nothing?"
"Sorry…" Rory said sheepishly.
"Call me back tomorrow and thank me properly with all the smutty details."
"Mom!" Rory cried blushing furiously.
"Fine, leave out the smutty details, but still, call me tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Love you Sweets."
"Love you too."
"Welcome home." Rory heard the deafening silence of being hung up on.
"I can't believe my mother drove all the way to Boston to do this for us," she said with a smile.
"I can. She loves you."
Rory shrugged and walked over to the fireplace. "Champagne Mr. DuGrey?"
"Of course Mrs. DuGrey," he replied with a smile.
"It's still Gilmore you know," she told him.
"I know, I know. But it's Gilmore for work and DuGrey at home right?" he asked slightly apprehensively.
"Exactly," she told him. "Could you open this champagne? I'll bring the coffee and the Mallomars over."
He took the bottle from her and began to unwind the wire wrapping around the cork. Then he grabbed a towel and quickly popped the cork, managing to retain control of the cork, not spill any of the champagne, and still get the popping sound that Rory loved.
"You're so good at that," she said as she returned with the coffee and cookies.
"Well you can fix coffee in your sleep and I can open champagne bottles in mine," he said with a grin.
He poured two flutes of champagne as she fixed two mugs of coffee. "Don't you think coffee and champagne is an odd combination?" he asked.
"Of course not, coffee goes with everything," she answered as though it was completely obvious.
"Of course," he repeated handing her a glass of the bubbly.
"Shall we toast?"
He thought for a minute, "Well Ms. Boston Globe, you're the writer, you should make the toast."
"I can't believe I start at the Globe on Monday," she squealed slightly. It'd been a month since she'd gotten news of the job, but she still hadn't gotten over the excitement, with graduation, the wedding and the honeymoon they'd delayed her start date, so she'd yet to have a first day.
"You'll do great," Tristan told her. "Now the toast…"
"Oh right. To us. I never thought we'd get here, but I'm so glad we are." She held up her glass, and he clinked his against it.
"To us."
They sipped their champagne and Tristan grabbed the tray of strawberries to offer one to Rory.
"It's fruit," she said wrinkling her nose.
"But it's chocolate covered fruit."
"There's still fruit in the middle, I'd prefer the Mallomars."
"Then why did your mom bring the strawberries?"
"For you of course!"
"That's nice of her," he said as he set the tray down and picked up one of the strawberries. "Wait, are they poisoned?"
"She likes you now!"
"She still calls me Bible Boy," he reminded her.
"You still call me Mary."
"True enough." He popped the strawberry into his mouth. "These really are delicious, are you sure you don't want one?" he asked with his mouth full.
"Maybe," she said hesitantly.
"Well sit down on the floor and let me feed it to you."
"I'm not a child, I can feed myself."
"It's supposed to be romantic," he said with a huff.
"Alright," she said in defeat. She pulled a pillow off the love seat and sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace. Tristan flicked the switch to turn the fire on, and grabbed a berry off the tray sitting down next to Rory on the floor.
"Open your mouth," he whispered in her ear. She obliged and he ran the chocolate dipped berry around her lips before putting the tip of it into her mouth. "Now bite," he instructed. She bit down cracking the chocolate and taking part of it as well as part of the berry into her mouth, chewing carefully as if the fruit were going to injure her.
"Mmmmm," she moaned, "That is good. Your turn!" She took the rest of the berry from his hand and consumed it before reaching up to get a fresh one off the tray for him. She mimicked his motions to feed the berry to him.
"I told you they were good," he said as he swallowed the mouthful she'd fed him.
"You were right," she admitted. "You've got a little chocolate on your lip."
He licked his lips trying to find the offending bit.
"Here, let me get it," she said, leaning in to kiss him.
"You'd think a pair of Harvard grads could manage to eat without getting it everywhere," he said with a laugh.
"You'd think," she repeated in a husky voice, then leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him.
He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close as kissed her. Her hands traveled down his chest to pull his shirt from his pants, and his own hands slid up the back of her already untucked shirt.
"Bed," she whispered hoarsely.
He disentangled himself from her long enough to stand up and pull her across the room to the bed, flinging back the duvet scattering rose petals everywhere. She giggled and he picked her up and threw her on the bed, diving on the bed right after her himself.
An hour later she looked over at the sleeping form of her husband and couldn't help but smile. She never imagined that she'd end up here, with him of all people, but now that she was, she couldn't imagine being any happier.
"What are you thinking about?" he said, his voice full of sleep.
"What Might Have Been," she replied.
"And?"
"I've decided it doesn't matter, because I couldn't possibly be any happier than I am right now." She leaned down to kiss him.
"Good answer." He gathered her in his arms and they fell into a deep peaceful sleep.
AN: I don't own the show (or the song) or Mallomars. Also – in this Tristan is NOT a Military man – only because I think if he and Rory got together in high school, he wouldn't have messed around with Duncan and Bowman, thus he would have stayed in Hartford.
Thanks for reading, please review.
Up next – the first appearance of Jess.
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