Hi!

I finally got around to writing, and posting this chapter. I know the series started off a little slow, but it's picking up speed now. The flashback is longer - in fact, mostly flashback, but the past needs to catch up with the present. Oh, and don't forget. It's AU - so Rory may seem a little "off".

Thank you for all the reviews and fav's add's and what not. I really really appreciate it. I don't know when I'll be able to update agian, I hope soon. In the mean time, check out New York Night - it's 20+ chapters of reading (sorry for the shameless plug!) Oh, and please let me know what you think. Review, review! It rocks my world!

Love, always,

Gilmoregirl19

Disclaimer: I do not own anything ASP created.

Emily Gilmore stood at the foot of the mansions' grand staircase. "Ladies and Gentlemen," she called politely as she help up her crystal champagne flute.

Talking, laughing and dancing died down and the room filled with silent anticipation as guests turned their attention towards their host.

"Thank-you all for gathering here today, with us and help celebrate our beautiful granddaughters sweet sixteen," Emily practically glowed as she spoke, "Happy Birthday, Rory and many more happy ones to come." She paused, and tipped her flute, "To Rory!"

The guests all raised their glasses in synch, and a polite, "To Rory," droned through the room.

This was not Rory's first sweet sixteen-birthday party; she celebrated privately with her parents, boyfriend and her friends. However, Emily's party was the 'official' society party, which by default meant it was not about celebrating Rory's birthday, but a chance for the Upper Crust to eat 100 dollar appetizers, nip aged whiskey or freshly shaken pomegranate martini's, maintain their position on the social ladder, and perhaps - if they were lucky- climb it.

Still, it was evident that Emily Gilmore had the best interest at heart for her 'beautiful' granddaughter and added a little personal touch to her party. And for that, Rory was grateful. At her friends "official" sweet-sixteens back in May, they were all drab, business-like affairs. Logan's parents did not even decorate or have a Happy-Birthday cake. Instead, he got crab puffs and soufflé.

Rory knew Logan had to be upset about that, but she had made little effort to reach out to him. The past year their relationship had been cordial, though it lacked the intensity - the playful banter, the 'tell me your deepest secrets connection– it had once had.

Rory had Tristan, and Logan had Mandy or Christine, or Laura – whomever the flavor of the month, week or day had turned out to be. It was undeniable; Tristan DuGrey had left his mark on their relationship.

As soon as Emily finished her speech, guests resumed their polite chitchat and continued to pick at their gourmet hamburgers. This signaled that the mandatory part of the evening was over, and that it was now time for a sub-party at the pool-house.

Rory made eye contact with Finn and Lane, who were now able to round up the rest of the gang, and the handful of other teenagers that were in attendance. It wasn't really the Golden Groups style to let others join in their sub-party, but ever since Tristan and Logan's line of ladies in waiting came along, the rules became very flexible.

In the meantime, Rory snuck behind the bar to secure a few bottles of pink champagne.

Of course, the pool-house was stocked, but it was her party and she felt she was entitled to a few bottles of pink bubbly.

"Well, well," Rory looked up from behind the bar, to see her mother standing there. "My daughter, the thief!" she whispered in mock surpise.

"Mom," Rory rolled her eyes.

"I'm just surprised at your choice, that's all," Lorelai said playfully as she held up the bottle of pink champagne. "Out of all the liquor Emily and Richard have, you take pink champagne…"

"It's my birthday," Rory smiled back, as she grabbed the bottle out of her mother's hand.

"That it is," Lorelai nodded proudly, "So, sub-party?"

"Yeah," Rory nodded, "Sorry you have to stay out here…"

"Me too," Lorelai said looking around the room at the boring suits. "Enjoy it now, kiddo, 'cause it's downhill from here," she said with a slight hint of bitterness in her voice.

"So, what escape plan did you and Dad come up with?" Rory asked.

"In about thirty minutes I'll become a violent maniac, knocking over the coffee stations and ice sculptures, start dancing naked on the buffet table and swing from the chandelier…"

"Or," Rory asked, unimpressed by her mother's dramatics.

"Or," she sighed dully, "Chris will have a 6:30 a.m. conference call with Europe.

"Ah, a classic choice, Mrs Hayden," Rory laughed.

"Boring," Lorelai stressed in reply.

"Don't wait up," Rory kissed her mother on the cheek, before turning sharply and headed for the pool-house.

"Hey, you," Rory exclaimed excitedly as she picked up her blackberry later that afternoon.

"Hey, Ace," Logan replied tiredly.

"Aw, you sound like crap," Rory said sympathetically, "Bad flight?"

"Nah, it's just, what, the third transatlantic flight in two days?"

"I'm sorry, babe."

"Not your fault, Ace," he sighed, "Not your fault."

"Hey," she asked, deciding to change the subject, "What's the weather like?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, "Toasty warm, down here at baggage claim."

"You are at baggage claim?" she asked, "You aren't supposed to make phone calls at baggage claim…security and what not!"

"Rules, smules," he laughed, "I told you I'd call, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want you to get arrested in the process!" she exclaimed.

"Ace…" he sighed, in an attempt to calm her down.

"Hang up the phone!" she said urgently.

"Rory!" Logan exclaimed.

"Hang up!" she demanded again, "And text me about the weather, I need to know what to pack," she added quickly.

"Okay, Ace…." he relented.

"Hang up!"

"See you tomorrow, Ace," he said before he clicked off.

Rory was sitting on the couch, discussing the perfect shopping destination: Paris or New York, with her friends, when Tristan loosely flung his arm around her neck bringing important girl talk to a halt.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie," he whispered in her ear, causing Lane and Stephanie to roll their eyes.

"Thanks," Rory looked up, and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips.

"You girls don't mind if I steal Rory from you for a minute?" Tristan asked coyly, and did not even wait for their reply, as he swiftly grabbed Rory's hand and pulled her up off the couch, and led her to the patio.

"What are you doing, love?" Finn asked Lane, plopping down on the couch next to her.

"Watching this disgusting mess," she replied, never letting her gaze shift away from the glass patio door, that gave her clear view of Rory and Tristan's birthday make-out session.

"That's uncalled for," Colin looked away from the patio, "They need to get a room."

"I know," Stephanie nodded in agreement, as she gently reached for Colin's hand.

"Oh, the humanity" Logan cried, pointing towards the glass door, drink in hand. "When will it end?"

This earned him an evil glare from Stephanie. "Maybe when you ditch Mandy, Candy and Sandy and fight for her?"

"Steph," Colin whispered harshly, though Logan didn't need Colin to come to his defense.

"Whatever, Steph," Logan said dully as he took another swig from his crystal tumbler.

"Why don't we take this somewhere else?" Tristan asked passionately between kisses.

"Hm?" she responded, she heard him speak, but having it form a coherent sentence in her brain was quite a challenge.

"Let's get out of here," Tristan said, more clearly now as pulled his mouth off Rory's neck.

"What?"

Tristan fully pulled away now, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, "Let's get out of here, so we can…." He crooked his eyebrow and shot her a slimy grin, "You know…"

It dawned on Rory; Tristan wanted sex.

"Oh, uh," Rory blushed, "I thought we talked about this….I was going to tell you when I was ready…" she spoke very fast, and she felt very uncomfortable discussing this right now.

"But Rory," he whimpered, "You are sixteen!"

"So?" she asked, suddenly very offended by this implication. Age had nothing to do with it!

"So," Tristan sighed exasperated, "At this rate we'll never do it!"

"Not if you act like this," she bit back angrily. It wasn't as if they were having this conversation the first time. It was a reoccurring subject, and it had been for a last eight months. However, Rory always broke it off, as things grew more passionate, and he usually acted like a perfect gentlemen, offer to pop some popcorn and toss in a movie.

Clearly, it was different this time.

"Is that a threat?" he narrowed his eyes and stepped closer towards her.

"No," she said slowly, somewhat concerned by this new attitude. "It's a fact."

"I can't believe you, Rory!" He said angrily, "We've been dating for a year! And, it's just sex." She smelled the alcohol on his breath as he spoke.

"Just sex?" Rory asked incredulously. To her, it was not "just" something. It was a big, life-changing deal. Tristan knew this; he said he understood.

Tristan ran a hand through his hair as he quickly looked down at ground and then back to his girlfriend. "Do you love me?"

"Yes!" Rory replied hotly. How dare his question that?

"Then you'd sleep with me!"

"Tristan! You are drunk!" she exclaimed.

"Don't change the subject," he spat, "It's the truth, Rory! I'll ask you again: Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"But you won't sleep with me?" he asked her accusingly.

"Not tonight, no." she replied shakily.

"When?" he demanded

"I don't know," she shot back.

"God!" he exclaimed as he threw his hands behind his head.

She was fed up too. It seemed recently they would have the "to do, or not to do it" fight every week. She'd come close to losing it to him, but every time he reached for her skirt zipper, or pant button it just felt wrong. Forced, stressful, just something to do.

If, when, she was going to sleep with a guy, it'd have to be under the right circumstances, and this horny boy panting on top of her, on her childhood bed – the bed Lucy Bunny slept in – or trying to feel her up outside her grandparents pool house - just didn't feel right.

It wasn't just the sex, either. There was another girl, Rory knew. He never admitted it, and Rory never talked about it. She dismissed the gossip, even though she knew it was true. Nadine Samson was the girl, the one that texted Tristan, and left cute notes in his locker; she was the other girl.

Tristan denied it and Rory never really had enough courage to call him out on it. Besides, it hadn't lasted long. At least, Rory hadn't seen anymore texts, or cute locker notes. She chalked it up to a one-time fling. However, now, if this is what it was coming down to, she knew Tristan DuGrey couldn't be a part of her future any longer.

"Look, Tristan," she said, regaining her cool, "If you want sex that badly than break up with me. Be like Nike – just do it!"

"Is that what you want?" he asked her forcefully.

"Is sex that important to you?" she retorted.

"Yes," the word escaped his mouth before he could help it.

"Well, then," she bitterly crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to deliver the final blow.

He remained silent, too weak to be the one to break it off.

"Fine!" she spat, "I'll do it." She positioned herself, so she stood squarely in front of him, and angrily looked him in the eyes. "Tristan, we are through! Screw Nadine, for all I care. Or better yet- I'm sure you can have Logan's leftovers!"

"Whatever, Rory," he sounded cold; "You don't know what you are missing out on."

"Whatever, Tristan," she matched his cold, hurtful tone and turned sharply on her heel.

"What happened?" Lane asked, taking a sip from her glass. "Rory looks so upset!"

"We'll find out soon enough, love," Finn said and comfortingly grabbed his girlfriend's hand, as he noticed Rory was walking back to the pool house entrance.

Rory slid the door open, and instantly the party noise died down. She looked at the curious faces of people she did not even know. Right now, she didn't want to be surrounded by shallow strangers, she needed her friends.

"Out!" she shouted, "Get out! Now!"

Normally, she wasn't one to pull a Queen Bee attitude, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Rory," Stephanie said sympathetically as she got up from her chair and walked over to her friend, arms spread open, ready to give a hug, "What happened?"

Rory let Stephanie hug her, until the party crowd filed out. Once she was sure prying eyes and red-hot ears were well away, she pulled away.

"We," Rory paused in a vain attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to fall, "he – I, broke up." Stephanie led the distraught Hayden heiress over to the couch, and sat her down.

"What?" Lane was shocked, "Why, how? And on your birthday!"

"I know!" Rory was full out balling now, and her shoulders shook heavily.

"Love," Finn sighed sympathetically, "I'll fix you a drink."

Lane mouthed, "Cosmopolitan", Finn nodded and was off to the bar.

"I'm sorry, Rory," Colin said. This was uncomfortable for him, he really didn't handle emotional situations well. It proved slightly uncomfortable for the others as well. No one dared speak, so the room stayed silent except for Rory's heart wrenching sobbing.

"Here," Finn said softly as he handed Rory her drink. After a few swigs, she calmed down.

"I'm sorry," Rory said, barely audible.

"For what?" Stephanie and Lane asked in synch.

"For Tristan – for bringing him in."

"Rory," Lane sighed, "You can't help that you liked him."

"I know, but…"

"Hey," Stephanie sighed lightly, "it's okay. We are okay, and you'll be okay. Okay?"

"Okay," Rory said, slightly mocking her friend's consistent use of okay.

This time a somewhat more comfortable silence fell over the group, until Rory broke the silence again.

"Logan," she said softly, "Can we talk?"

"I'm in a black taxi cab, stuck in British traffic. It's raining and cold. And... I wish you were here."

Rory sat on the back seat of the limousine en route to the airport. She had read the text message a hundred times over. It was nothing special, but at the same time it was. He missed her. She missed him, too. She glanced down at her watch; in a little less than seven hours, she'd be in London. With him.

Sooooooooo?