A/N: I would put excuses here for why I have not updated in forever, but that would just be a waste of space. Honestly, I just haven't been in the GG universe lately. I am back for a bit, though. I hope you enjoy this chapter. The story takes a bit of a turn in this chapter, so, be prepared.

Chapter Twelve: Pause

"Mary," Tristan said with a grin, his lips pressing into a smirk. He glanced at Logan and said, "Oh, you, look what the cat dragged in."

"Hello Tristan," Logan said smoothly. "I see you're still singlehandedly supporting Crew's gel business."

"Well, you already took Axe," Tristan shot back easily.

"Kids, come in!" Mitchum called. "You don't just stand at the door like vagrants."

"Did I tell you that I was sorry yet?" Logan whispered into Rory's ear. "Because, you will undoubtedly be entitled to an apology after tonight."

She patted his chest gently and told him, "It will be fine."

"You know Tristan, huh?"

"We went to school together."

"What's with the Mary?"

"It used to be about her virginity," Tristan filled in. "Except, seeing that she is with you now, that is bound to have changed."

Rory felt Logan tense beside her and she quickly said, "Still virginal, Tristan."

Tristan raised his blonde eyebrows and mused, "I guess Huntz is losing his touch."

"No, I respect Rory," Logan said between clenched teeth. "That's it."

"That never stopped you before, Huntz," Tristan said easily. "Need I remind you of boarding school?"

"Things are different now," Logan replied.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and she placed a hand on his chest to steady him. "Tristan, whatever happened before is in the past. It doesn't matter now."

Tristan paused for a moment and then threw out, "We'll see about that."

He walked off into the dining room and Rory said under her breath, "I thought this dinner was boring."

"Me too," Logan answered. He took a deep breath and then said, "Let's go join the dinner guests. The one good thing about these dinners is that Mrs. Fitzgerald has a pretty good cook."

They walked in and Rory frowned when she saw the two empty seats were situated right next to Tristan. She looked up at Logan briefly and saw the tight clench of his jaw.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered.

"Logan, Rory, sit down," Shira said with her typically tight smile. "You have already kept us long enough."

"It is my fault, Mrs. Huntzberger," Tristan told her. "Rory and I are old school friends. We were filling each other in about our lives."

"Well, what a small world," Mrs. Fitzgerald said. "Rory, how is Chilton?"

"It is very nice," Rory answered politely, taking the seat next to Tristan. She didn't trust Logan or Tristan sitting near each other.

"Rory works on the paper," Tristan said. "If I didn't know any better I'd think that she was using Huntzberger over here for his connections."

Rory heard Logan mumble, "If I didn't know any better I would have thought that military school would make you less of an ass hole."

"Logan is well aware that I am using him for his connections," she joked, hoping no one heard Logan's mutterings. "I mean, why else would I want to date him? Have you even seen him? He's a mess."

"That I am," Logan agreed, placing his hand over hers on the table. The Fitzgerald's chuckled and Rory let out the breath she had been holding.

One bullet dodged.

What worried her was that she was sure that Tristan's arsenal of comments was far from being empty.

The first course came and Rory found an intricately designed salad placed in front of her. She was relieved to have gone through her Friday night dinners, knowing exactly which fork to use and what lettuce to avoid. Logan watched her push away a large shred of radicchio and smirked.

"Tristan, son, tell me about military school," Mitchum said. "I considered sending Logan there after he was kicked out of his third boarding school. Shira convinced me to try one more, though."

"That was a terrible school," Logan told Rory softly with a grin. "I would have preferred military school."

"It is great," Tristan answered politely. "It has really taught me discipline. I have a new outlook on life, my priorities are completely realigned now."

"Yeah right," Logan sneered and Rory laughed into her napkin.

"I feel like a changed man. No more pulling pranks, skipping classes. I have realized what a blessing I was given with my family name and I intend on doing it proud."

"You could learn a few things from this boy, Logan," Mitchum said appreciatively.

"He really is a good boy," Mrs. Fitzgerald cooed. "I was just elated when Anna called and asked if he could spend the summer."

"I wanted to get in touch with the rest of my family," Tristan explained. "I feel like I've missed so much while I have been off being, well, reckless."

Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald beamed, but Logan was focused on the maid instead of them. He watched the way she shuffled past Tristan, the furtive glances she paid him. He grinned when he caught Tristan glance her way.

It seemed that Tristan was getting in touch with more than just his family.

"So, what do you do here, Tristan?" Logan asked. "Who do you do to keep occupied?"

Tristan's eyes flashed as Shira snapped, "Logan, watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry, I meant what. A slip of tongue, sorry."

"I play tennis," Tristan answered carefully. "I like to keep fit."

"Oh, I bet you do," Logan retorted.

"I'm also helping my uncle rebuild an old Cadillac from the 1920s."

"Well, isn't that interesting," Mitchum replied appreciatively. "You know, I always wanted to rebuild a car. I never found the time, though."

"It is very rewarding," Tristan simpered. "There is nothing like working with your hands." He glanced at Logan and innocently said, "Logan is familiar with that."

"Logan?" Shira laughed.

"Oh yes, I am sure those hands have seen a lot."

"The salad was delicious," Rory interrupted, smiling sweetly at Mrs. Fitzgerald. "Do you have, um, the recipe? I bet my grandma would love this."

"Emily?" Mrs. Fitzgerald asked. "I didn't think she liked vinaigrettes."

"Loves them," Rory said immediately. "It was, um, a late blooming love."

"Ah, I see."

"Mr. Fitzgerald, you work in the greeting card business, right?" Rory asked, putting a conciliatory hand on Logan's knee.

Mr. Fitzgerald went on about his business but Rory found it hard to listen. The two men beside her were waging a silent war and paying attention to Mr. Fitzgerald's dry drabble about card stock was near impossible. Tristan kept edging his arm closer to hers on the table and she could feel the irritation from Logan as strongly as if he were speaking.

She was relieved when the main course arrived and some of the tension momentarily dissipated as the maids placed plates in front of them. Rory picked up the last fork, it seemed dessert would not be served, and started on her chicken. She caught Logan's agitated cutting in her peripheral vision.

"Have him tell you about Santa Barbara," Tristan said under his breath.

"Stop it," she hissed.

"It's quite the story."

She looked at him and said loudly, "I'm sorry Tristan, what is it you wanted to say?"

The entire table looked at him and he slowly answered, "I, uh, this chicken is delicious."

"Yes," she replied. "It is."

"Rory, how is your mother?" Mr. Fitzgerald asked. "Last thing I heard, she was working at an inn."

Rory swallowed her chicken and proudly told him, "She actually owns an inn now."

"Who would've thought that Lorelai Gilmore would be in a authoritative role?" Shira said carelessly.

"She has turned the inn into a town staple. Profits have increased, she undoubtedly was a spry upgrade from the previous owner." Rory answered without hesitation. She added, "Not that Mia was a poor owner, though. My mom is just a bit more spirited."

"I see," Shira said.

Logan took her hand under the table and gently squeezed it. A silent message passed between them. It was as if to say, yes, my parents are insufferable snobs.

She squeezed back a silent thank you.

Dinner was relatively uneventful after that. It was the same thing, dodging loaded questions, defending yourself and others from pointed comments. Rory was relieved when the plates were cleared and Mr. Fitzgerald and Mitchum announced they were having a smoke. Tristan and Logan were pointedly not invited and Rory was grateful for it. She didn't know if she could get through the rest of the night without Logan.

"I'll be right back, Ace," he told her, heading off down one of the corridors. Rory watched him walk away, frowning when she felt Tristan next to her.

"What do you want?"

"Don't be fooled by all the fairy tale crap that you have right now," Tristan told her. "Logan is not Prince Charming."

"Tristan, I am really not in the mood for this."

"He's being all sweet now, but that's how he works. I've seen it countless times, Mar. He is the world's most sensitive gentleman while he reels you in and then the second he gets what he wants, the act is off."

Rory bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. "Stop this, Tristan."

"I know him a lot longer than you. This is an act, nothing more."

"Maybe he's changed."

"Haven't you heard, Mary? Men never change."

"Okay, let's get a few things straight here," she said stepping forward so that their bodies were almost touching. "First, my name is Rory, not Mary. I am not your Mary, nor will I ever be. Second, Logan is not playing with me. Do you know that he waited a month for me after I broke up with Dean? I told him that I needed time he let me have it. He cares about me, Tristan, my pants buttoned and all."

"You really think that?" Tristan asked.

Rory nodded without a moment's hesitation.

"Then I feel sorry for you."

Rory watched him walk away and rubbed her tingling hands against her thighs. She felt sick from their exchange.

"Everything okay?" Logan asked, putting his arms around her waist. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, nodding against his chest.

"Yeah, everything is fine."

"Where did Tristan go?"

"I think I upset him," she answered carefully. "He stalked off."

"Good riddance."

She grinned and turned in his arms, putting her arms around his neck. He kissed her gently, the sounds of the rest of the party in the other room keeping their affections chaste.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked her gently. "You're trembling."

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"Good, well, do you want to go back into the lion's den?"

"Is there a choice?" She asked without a shred of hope. He shook his head and she sighed, linking her arm through his.

"Well, let's face the music, Huntzberger."

They began to walk in and despite her better judgment, she idly asked, "Hey, have you ever been to Santa Barbara."

There was a pause before he said, "Yeah, why?"

"Oh, no reason," she said quickly. "I was just curious."

He nodded and kissed her temple swiftly. His hand at her side rubbed her side and she knew that she should have felt calmer. It was caught in her mind, though, that pause.

He had paused.

A/N: What happened in Santa Barbara???? Well, you will have to come back and find out. The next one is already written, so the update will probably be early next week. Please leave me some feedback :-)