- Chapter Five -

His left hand gripped the wheel while his right remained laced around hers, thumb absentmindedly running across her wrist.

Straining against her seatbelt, leaning against the window, she watched him, took in his every move. He still bit his lower lip on occasion, and he still hummed particular songs under his breath. At the moment, he was humming along to an old 80's song.

"We're here," he said, bringing the car to a halt, and pulling her out of her thoughts.

She'd been so caught up in him that only now did she realize where he'd brought her.

"Stars Hollow?" she questioned, sliding out of the car.

"You don't mind do you?" he was at her side in seconds, hands moving around her waist.

"No, Tristan," she beamed up at him. "It's great."

"I can't remember the last time I was here for more than just ten minutes." Fingers laced, he was already leading her down the road, every now and then stopping at a familiar landmark.

"Anywhere particular you'd like to go?" she asked as he paused outside Dosie's Market, examining the newly renovated windows.

"What? No, you can pick. I'm just glad to be back here again."

She laughed and pulled him along in the direction of the park. Fascinated by every little change the town had undergone, excitement radiating from him, he could have been the same kid she had raced around the town with years ago.

---

"Stop staring at me," she threw out and smiled as he looked away grinning. They were sitting on a stone bridge that stood over one of the small ponds in the park, feet hanging off the edge.

"Sorry. It's just…this is going to sound really sappy and you can stop me any time you like but…I don't know Rore, I just can't believe that you let me back into your life so easily."

He turned to her when she didn't reply, as if wondering whether she had changed her mind.

"I guess I just have really low standards." Her tone was severe but a grin decorated her features as she turned to him. "Maybe once I'm done with you, I'll go after Kirk or something. His mom would be thrilled to get him out of the house."

His abrupt laugher was like honey to her ears, a long forgotten sound that tugged at her heart.

She watched him as he ran a hand through his hair and let his eyelids fall.

"I don't deserve you," he spoke up after a few minutes, turning to face her. "I feel like any minute now, you're going to realize that and walk off." His eyes were dark now, a cloud once again hovering over them. "I would understand you know, if you wanted to walk away—"

She silenced him by pulling him into her, right hand carefully sliding out to meet his left hand where it gripped the top of the bridge.

They broke apart after a few moments and he twisted to the side and slid off the bridge, only to come behind her and encircle her with his arms, chin dipping down to rest on her shoulder.

"What are you thinking right now?" she questioned, leaning back to rest against him.

When he didn't answer, she turned her head to face him. "Tristan?"

"I was thinking about the day you fell through the ice here," after a moment, he responded, tightening the hold around her. "It was right after that really big storm back in third grade when the town declared a snow day. We spent the whole morning running around town, and ended up here in the evening."

That had not been the response she'd been expecting.

He continued, a slight edge to his words.

"The pond was frozen over, or at least it seemed so and you wanted to have a race across it, from one bank to the other. But of course I was too scared to and told you it was a stupid idea," he broke off with a bitter laugh.

She sighed, as a memory she'd long forgotten, flashed across her eyes.

"You just called me a chicken and marched right over to the edge." As if lost in a trance, Tristan continued.

"I didn't really think you'd go through with it but then you braced yourself and stepped onto the ice. You started edging across the surface while I watched from the side of the pond. But when you got to the middle, the ice cracked and you fell through. I ran to help but you were under for so long Rore…and I couldn't do anything."

"Tristan," she tried to intervene, but he continued with the memory, too caught up to stop now.

"I kept hearing little cracking noises beneath me but all I could think about was you. And when you finally broke through the water…"

"You pulled me out," she finished for him, sliding off the bridge and moving to face him.

But his eyes were fixed on the water, at the spot where it had all taken place.

"You were under for so long Rore, and I didn't know what to do."

"But you saved me Tristan," with both hands, she turned his face down to her own and made him look at her.

His arms, on each side of her, held her between his body and the bridge walls, fingers clenched around the railing.

"That was the first time that I knew I loved you. When I pulled you out and realized what could have happened, that's when I knew."

For a second, at the intensity of his words and his sentiments, she couldn't breathe. As if sensing her hesitation, he pulled her closer.

"I'm sorry if I'm scaring you Rore. I know I must sound like a crazy person…"

"It's okay, Tristan," she cut in, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head against his chest. "It's okay."

---

As she moved about the kitchen, taking mugs out of cupboards and pulling utensils out of drawers, she could sense his eyes on her, moving as she moved.

She poured two mugs of coffee, spooned sugar into each mug and took them back to the table where he was sitting, eyes studying her. She set the mugs down and took a seat on the chair next to his.

"Your house hasn't changed much," he observed, pulling her chair closer to his, so that their legs touched.

Inhaling deeply, Rory took a swig from her mug before nodding in response.

"Mom's not much of a decorator."

"No, I like it." He rose from his chair and moved to take in a line of photographs that Lorelai had set up along a book shelf.

From above the brim of her mug, she watched him as he examined each picture, brows knitted in an expression of abject concentration.

"I remember this one," he called, fiddling with a picture, "it's from Kirk's Bar mitzvah."

Rory almost snorted into her coffee, which earned a dazzling smile from him.

Picture in hand, he returned to take a seat beside her, the expression she loved, one of joy and contentment, decorating his features.

"Yeah, but I think he's converted back to Catholicism…or is he a Buddhist now?"

Tristan beamed at her, before putting down the picture and pulling her in for a kiss.

This kiss was different from the last time he'd been at the house, gentler yet somehow more passionate. In the way her body reacted, every nerve on fire, she realized that she had been waiting for him to kiss her again, craving.

Soft and perfectly shaped, his lips moved in synch alongside hers, stopping now and then to tug at her lower lip. His right hand slid down her spine, pressing her closer to him, while his left wound its way into her hair.

She settled her arms around his shoulders, fingers grazing the spot where his hair line met his nape, pulling a guttural sound from him. Deeping the kiss, he pulled her into his lap, and she locked her arms around his neck, desperate not to break the connection.

She let her hands wonder back to his chest, feeling the solidity of his muscles, and up to the collar of his shirt, tugging his body against her own.

Several minutes later, slowly, he loosened his grip, and pulled back, but kept her on his lap.

Arms still locked around his neck, Rory looked into his eyes. They were a vivid blue and bright with excitement.

"Mommy's home kid," Lorelai's voice floated from the living room, and Rory was quick to untangle herself from Tristan and move to stand by the sink. "And I managed to steal one of Sookie's cakes while Michelle's back was turned…" she trailed off, entering the kitchen and catching sight of Tristan. She was holding several grocery bags in one hand and a cake box in the other.

"Lorelai," Tristan rose to his feet, a hesitant smile curling his lips.

"Tristan," Lorelai greeted him, but her eyes were on Rory. The smile she had been wearing had slipped off and her tone had changed from casual and playful to guarded and weary.

"Hi mom," Rory greeted, with more enthusiasm than needed, "Tristan just came by to…"

"To visit Stars Hollow," he cut in, moving to take the load from her hands and place it on the counter.

"Hmm," Lorelai nodded, guarded look still in place.

"It seems like a lot's changed," he tried feebly to make small-talk, lift the uncomfortable veil that had fallen over the room.

Again, Lorelai nodded, crossing her arms.

"He hadn't seen the town in almost four years," Rory piped in, helping Tristan unload groceries and place them here and there in various cupboards. They ate at home so infrequently that there was no order to where various boxes and cans were placed.

"Four years," Lorelai repeated, moving to pour herself a mug of coffee and take a seat at the kitchen table.

Rory sent Tristan a glance before going to take a seat beside her mother, pulling her chair closer so that they sat side by side.

"Mom…"

But Lorelai cut her off. "Four years, Rory, four years."

"I know…"

"Do you remember what that first year was like, Rory?"

"Mom…"

"You came home crying every day, every day, and there was nothing I could do. All because of him, Rory." Her voice was steady, but Rory caught the anger and frustration in her tone.

"Mom," Rory tried to explain, but Lorelai persisted.

"For an entire year, you were a completely different person Rore, wafting around like a ghost. I could barely get you to talk to me and when you finally did, it was to cry about losing your best friend. I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Lorelai, I can explain…" Tristan began, but he too was cut off.

"Really? You have an explanation for a four-year absence?"

Not wanting him to have to dredge up his past again, Rory intervened. "Tristan, you don't have to. I'll explain it to her." She sent him a quick, reassuring smile, before turning back to face her mother.

Eyes wide, hurt contorting her brows, Lorelai looked back, stunned.

"I think you should leave, Tristan," quickly composing herself, Lorelai addressed him. "I need to speak to my daughter." Her eyes, now blazing, were still focused on Rory.

For a fraction of a second, he hesitated but decided the best thing to do was to give the two some space, but not before, defiantly, moving to where Rory sat and placing a kiss on her temple.

Then squeezing her shoulder, with a quick, tight-lipped smile, he walked out.

Rory watched his retreating back, reluctantly returning her gaze to her mother's face. She'd been expecting anger or disappointment but all she saw in her mother's eyes was sadness. Lorelai looked exhausted, and hurt beyond measure.

"Mom, I can explain," Rory began, taking her mother's right hand between her own hands.

Lorelai, the woman who had an answer to everything and a witty retort for every comment, said nothing.

"He's been through a lot mom…a lot more than I thought any person was capable of enduring."

"I'm not trying to make excuses for what he did or pretend that he didn't hurt me. But I want you to trust that I know what I'm doing." Sighing, she sat back in her chair, waiting for her mother to respond, watching as she took sips of coffee from her mug.

Several minutes later, Lorelai finally spoke up

"I can't pick your friends for you Rory, and I know you're smart enough to choose good people to surround yourself with. But you can't expect me to just let four years slide like that…especially without an explanation."

Rory nodded, drawing closer to her mother. "I know."

Lorelai took another sip of coffee, stony eyed and shoulders slumped from exhaustion.

"He's been through a lot mom, and some of it changed him, for the worse. But he's trying to make up for it now…trying to be the person he used to be. He's not there yet, but I think it's possible…"

"I trust you Rory," Lorelai broke through, "but it's going to take more than a few minutes for me to get used to the idea, okay?" The edge had vanished from her tone, Rory noted with a pang of relief.

Softly smiling, she rested her head against her mother's shoulder, content.

"He still looks the same," said Lorelai, and Rory caught a hint of her mother returning to normal, her casual tone slowly resettling.

"You mean as gorgeous as ever?" Rory smiled.

"Miss Patty's going to have a heart attack," Lorelai responded before the two settled into a more comfortable silence.

A few minutes later, driven by curiosity and with the new sanction to discuss a topic that had been a taboo in their house for so long, Rory spoke up again. "I always thought you liked Tristan, even after he changed. You've never complained about him or said a single negative thing about him. Even in that first year when I would come home crying, you'd console me without debasing him." Twisting her head up expectantly, Rory waited for her mother to respond.

"I do like Tristan," Lorelai sighed, "to me, he's always been the kid that rescued you and carried you home after you fell through the ice. I could never understand how he could change so drastically but at the same time, I never stopped seeing him as the boy whose world revolved around you."

Lorelai's mug sat resting on the table and Rory, her own cup of coffee empty, pulled it towards herself, emptying it in a single drag.

"Wait," she said, plopping down the now empty mug, "did you mention cake?"

The veil had lifted.

------------------------------------------

I know it's been lightyears since my last update but I promise (cross my heart and hope to die) that the next chapter will be up within a week. I'll also hopefully have the next chapter of 'Self Destruction' up within the week. I hate unfinished stories so I'm going to try my best to update frequently. And again, for those of you who will or are still reading this, thank you times a million.