Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.
Author's Note: I'd stopped writing for a long time- and I've been trying to write some original fiction. Please review if you want me to continue this- I know it's been a long time!
"Mind if I sit?"
He indicated the empty seat beside her and she nodded. "Go ahead."
"It's a good book. Good film, too."
Rory choked.
"Are you all right?"
He slapped her helpfully on the back as she spluttered and her face turned red. Her eyes were starting to water as she recovered herself.
"Yes…..I…..just……you read it?"
Even half out of breath after her choking fit the disbelief sounded in her voice.
Tristan nodded. "Read the film too if you count the subtitles. Are you casting aspersions on my intellect, Gilmore? You did tell me once I was smart."
"Smarter than Duncan and Bowman. It was a relative term," she retorted.
He sighed and his shoulders sagged. "Pity it hadn't been true."
Maybe it was just that she was over-sensitive to hurt in others, she'd been so recently damaged herself, but as soon as she'd said it she'd regretted the comment. He hadn't needed the comeback to make her feel bad.
Her hand was suddenly on his arm and he stared at it, astonished that she'd reach out to him in any way at all.
"It was true, though. You made it, didn't you? You graduated despite everything. And you came back- I'm sure that made your minions very happy."
Try as she might she couldn't resist the slight barb.
"Pity I'm not the guy my public demands any more," he said softly, raising his eyes to meet hers.
She withdrew her hand and focussed on her half empty plate instead. "You're here, aren't you? What's the difference?"
"For a start I'm sitting talking to you instead of out there in the middle of them all. As far as I'm aware I haven't hit on you once even though I know you broke up with someone and you're probably vulnerable. And we both know that worked well for me in the past."
He paused as she blushed and pretended to concentrate on pushing the remaining food around her plate.
"But I've kept my hands to myself despite the fact that we're being watched and -"
"We're what?"
Rory snapped out of her uncomfortable trance and looked at him in horror.
He was unaccountably disappointed by her reaction, having been only amused by the fact that Louise, Madeline and Paris were staring at them, not even bothering to hide their interest. He should have known she'd want anything other than to be seen with him, however innocent the context.
It didn't help that he could hear the whispers, even as they caught her glare.
"I thought she had a boyfriend?" Madeline had always been last to hear any news.
"They broke up." He'd have expected Paris to confine herself to stating the bald facts.
"I didn't think she had it in her." Louise sounded admiring. He didn't imagine Rory would welcome her approval. "She's wasting no time in moving onwards and upwards."
"Neither is he." Commentary from Paris was the last thing he needed. He glared at her as she raised her eyebrows before turning on her heel to walk away. He could only hope that Rory's hearing was less acute than his.
The object of his concern sighed. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."
"You would?"
He sounded incredulous and Rory laughed. "You haven't changed that much. That sounded exactly like the Tristan I knew."
He grinned. "Or not. I don't remember making you laugh much. Maybe if I had you'd have spent less time wanting to kill me. What about you anyway- what are you doing here? Did you really have nothing better to do tonight?"
Her face darkened. "Not tonight. I could have had dinner with Mom and the grandparents but even this seemed more appealing than that. And I was meant to be going to Europe next week with my mom- to do the whole backpacker thing- but it fell through too."
"Why's that?"
"She's opening a new inn with her friend Sookie. They just heard they're getting it but it needs a lot of work. And she needs to be here for that. So….Europe's off for now."
"It's over-rated anyway."
"Yes, I can see myself taking your word for that."
He smiled, surprised again that the conversation was so civil. Now that he wasn't hitting on her and she wasn't trying so hard to rebuff him, he could see that he'd been right all along and in some ways they were on the same wavelength.
"Are you free on Sunday night?"
She shrugged.
"My grandfather's having a party. You could come with me- not on a date," he added hastily as she started to shake her head.
"I don't want to go alone- they'll make me entertain any single grandmother they can find. And it's not that I couldn't find someone to take- but I'd rather not take my usual kind of date. My grandfather's been pretty good to me. And I know he thinks highly of you."
"Flattery's never got you anywhere before, Tristan. And your grandfather doesn't even know me."
"He knows your grandparents. I seem to recall they thought highly of me."
"They did before you released your inner criminal. Although since you still got to use the DuGrey name that probably didn't matter so much to them. Let me get this straight though- you want me to accompany you to your grandfather's party as a friend so that you'll look good?"
"Something like that." He was aware that he was holding his breath.
"And it's not a date?"
"No. Honestly, Gilmore, at this point I have far too much self respect to ask you out on a date."
He wondered if she could see through the glib response to know that he was lying, no matter how much he tried to tell himself it was true. If he was honest, this was just the only way he could ask her out that might give him a chance of her saying yes. But it wasn't just his self-respect he was trying to protect.
If he'd learned to read her better he'd have known that she was beaten, though, out of the strength to say no unless he left her with no choice.
She'd never been that girl in her head, the one who'd sought him out for comfort when she'd broken up with Dean. She'd never been the girl who'd cheated on Dean when Jess came alone, nor the one that waited in at night in the hope that Jess might call. She didn't want to accept that she was all of those girls, ruled by her heart and her insecurities just like all the rest of them, weighed down by a set of baggage that no-one else could understand.
She'd known faces of love that had never been available to him. She'd had the reassurance and support for which he hadn't known to wish from family and friends. She'd known the suffocation of expected perfection from those who were close to her: she'd been the china princess that didn't dare to fall from her pedestal. She'd been the victim of her own affections, learning only to run from love when she hadn't the strength to hold on. Lorelai had taught her well.
"Come on, Rory," he tried coaxing her. "It's one evening out of your life and you'll be completely safe even if you don't trust me. I'm hardly going to try anything with my grandfather and his friends watching my every move."
She shrugged, certain she'd regret this. "All right."
"Good. Now let's go and rescue your reputation from Louise."
She laughed. "I think my reputation's pretty safe for now with Paris as my chaperone. You might have some catching up to do, though."
They'd made it to the door when Louise accosted them. "Tristan! You've been hiding out here with Rory all night. Weren't you going to dance with me- or wait, am I interrupting something?"
Rory rolled her eyes as Tristan looked uncomfortable. "No, Louise, he's all yours."
He glared at her. She couldn't blame him. There had been nothing in their conversation to deserve the contempt in her voice. It was purely habit on her part but behind his glare she could see hurt. Hurt wasn't something she associated with him. The few occasions he'd let her see it had always been outweighed by the times he'd driven her crazy with his lewd comments and crude attempts at flirtation.
"Great," Louise breathed, taking his hand. "Let's dance."
"Sorry," he said quickly, withdrawing his hand with more urgency than politeness.
Both girls looked at him in surprise.
"I….."
His voice trailed off as he tried to think of a suitable escape route.
"Actually, Louise, I promised him one dance and we'd better get it over with- I have to go soon."
He looked at her in astonishment as Louise's eyebrows shot upwards. "I thought he was all mine?" she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"Old times' sake," he said quickly, placing a hand on Rory's back before she could find a way out.
"You owe me," she muttered as he shepherded her into the midst of the crowd and she ducked under flailing arms. "This is not my idea of fun."
"But it was your idea," he pointed out as he started to move in front of her and she stared at him, arms folded and lips pursed. He sighed. "Come on Rory, it's not that I'm not grateful for the rescue, but if you offer to dance you should actually dance. Otherwise we both look ridiculous."
"You think you don't look ridiculous already?"
The sudden, slight glint in her eye was the only encouragement he needed to grab her hands and start spinning her round, finishing in a dip while she yelped in startled fashion.
"I didn't offer to let you manhandle me!" she complained
He smirked- a sight she'd hated once but somehow now it made her smile. "This was not manhandling, Mary. If you'd like to compare and contrast, I would however be happy to oblige."
She rolled her eyes. "Just when I thought you'd finally learned my name. Do I need to point out it's in your interests to be nice to me if you want me to save you from Louise? Or help you make a good impression on your grandfather?"
"I am being nice to you," he said in an injured tone. He sighed again.
"We're just dancing. Catching up. Why does it always have to be a fight with you?"
"I'm sorry."
She meant it. She was so busy being sure he was the same old Tristan- although the same old Tristan hadn't actually been all bad either, she remembered. So busy rebuilding her walls after Jess that she was hardly able to be civil in case she'd get hurt. She couldn't begin to figure out why she'd rescued him from Louise. It wasn't as though Tristan DuGrey ever really needed rescuing from a willing female. Then again, maybe tonight the part of her that was broken saw something similar in him. She couldn't be sure she'd even be here if she hadn't known she'd see him.
"I'm not very good company tonight."
He stepped back. "The boyfriend?"
"The ex-boyfriend."
She could feel the lump growing in her throat and fought against it. This was no place to start crying again, not in front of Tristan, not in Louise's house, not at a Chilton party when she'd never let them see her cry and would never see her again anyway.
She tried to smile. "I should go- my mom's probably home from the grandparents and ready to burst with the effort of being polite to them."
"I'll walk you out to your car."
She shook her head. "You don't have to- that's silly."
He grinned. "It's not silly at all- gives me an excuse to get out of here too."
"Thanks."
She waited as he went to get her coat, having described it in detail for him, not knowing he'd been watching from outside as she arrived, memorising every detail about her. By the time he returned, a few moments later, she'd managed to compose herself again.
"When will I pick you up on Sunday?"
She shook her head and he felt disappointment rise. She was going to back out. She'd never see him as anything other than the jackass that had made her life a misery before his overdue exile.
"There's no need. I'll come over to your grandfather's- although I'll call you on the way and you'd better be outside waiting," she warned him.
He felt suddenly light again. "No problem. And thanks, Rory."
"It'll put a time limit on my wallowing." He raised his eyebrows and she shook her head again, managing a small smile. "At least, you'd better hope I don't show up in ice-cream stained pyjamas."
He wanted to hug her, to kiss it all better but that would just make it worse. He couldn't comfort her when, once again, he wasn't the comfort she wanted. So he was surprised when they reached her car and she leaned up to quickly kiss his cheek.
"What was that for?" he asked, surprised.
"Good company," she said, warmth from her smile lighting her eyes briefly. "See you Sunday."
"Sunday," he echoed, closing her car door.
For the first time, he was happy to be home.