Title: Sway
Author: Coralfly
Rating: PG
Summary: After two years in military school, Tristan's back in Hartford for one last summer before college.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino and affiliates.

Chapter Two

Another party. Another night of socializing; another night of smiling until his cheeks ached; another night of wondering if this was the meaning of his life and what he had done in the past to deserve such a privileged existence. He had arrived three hours late, deliberately. He had been here for fifteen minutes and already Tristan was wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Grabbing another cup of beer, he attempted to evade one determined looking red-head whose object for the night was to get her claws into Tristan DuGrey, as if he were a prize to be won. There was a time when he enjoyed all of it. There was a time when he tolerated it. But that time had long since passed and now he only seemed to be going through the motions of what was expected of him. The girls, the parties, they all seemed empty and devoid of sincerity. The red-head continued to advance as he wove through the crowd. Quickly he darted in and out of rooms, through numerous doors until he finally lost the huntress by finding safety in the Madden’s library. He shut the door, closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm in love."

His head shot up, his eyes flew open, and his whole body pivoted in the direction of the voice. He was confronted by the sight of a back, straight and poised with a hint of feminine curves. The owner of the back was currently enthralled by the shelves of books. A wave of familiarity washed over Tristan as he quickly racked his mind, and soon placed where he had last seen that distinctive posture. It didn't belong to one of his ex-girlfriends as he had initially feared but to someone much worse. Temporarily he thought about making a run for it, quietly slipping out the door, but too late, she'd already turned and faced him.

Blue eyes met blue eyes.

A puzzled frown swept over her face. "Tristan. Tristan DuGrey."

"Mary," the word tumbled out of his mouth, his composure shaken at the sight of her.

"Rory. The name is Rory."

"Right." He snapped his fingers together and leaned against the back of the door. Within a few seconds of talking to Rory Gilmore and Tristan had reverted back to the immature schoolboy that she had always brought out of him. Not even the unflappable cool he had refined in military school was enough of a defense against her. "So the sight of me has you falling in love, does it?"

"I was talking about the books, this library. It's amazing." As an afterthought she added, "It's also amazing how two years hasn't seemed to change you one bit."

"Still irresistible as ever?"

"Hardly," Rory scoffed.

"Well, it would appear that two years hasn't changed you that much either," noted Tristan as his eyes slowly and deliberately grazed over the length of her body, "Well, at least personality wise. It seems that books and parties go hand in hand when it comes to you, Mary."

Face flushed and voice laden with disdain, Rory spoke once more, "I guess the Hartford gossip mills were correct."

"Tut, tut, tut. I never pegged you for the gossipy type," Tristan shook his head in mock disappointment, "Although I am touched that you chose me as your topic for discussion."

"You haven't changed at all." Rory continued, ignoring his comments. "You're still playing the role of the playboy. I thought you'd changed."

There was a layer of disappointment mingled with her words that made him pause and drop his 'too cool, rich little boy' façade. An awkward silence settled between the two and for a minute or so he stood there gaping at her while she stared, embarrassed, at her shoes. Eventually he opened his mouth to speak but Rory interrupted him, "Forget it. I don't even know why I'm saying this. It's not like we were ever really friends. Well, we were but not really. And it's been two years and it was incredibly rude of me..."

"We were friends."

"What?" Her head shot up and she stared at him, her eyes boring into his hidden depths.

Her scrutiny made him uncomfortable. Vulnerable. He awkwardly changed his position, shifting his feet to one side and then back again, and mumbled un-Tristan like, "We were friends."

"Oh." And then she smiled, a brilliant, genuine smile. "We were friends."

The smile warmed him, revived his confidence. Tristan straightened his back and gazed directly into her eyes. With an affected, teasing drawl he spoke, "I think we've already covered that."

"Well, I'm still recovering from the shock. I mean you weren't always Mr. Friendly."

"Hey! I was friendly. I was the epitome of friendly."

"Yes, friendly in that unsolicited way that could have you thrown into jail or taken to court." Rory replied dryly.

"It's not like I could help it. I was madly in love with you, suffering the pangs of unrequited love." He clutched his chest, a pained expression on his face.

"You did not! You saw me as an easy conquest."

"Easy? I gotta tell you Rory, there was never anything easy about you."

"You still saw me as some sort of conquest," she pointed out.

"No. I saw you as Rory. Rory Gilmore." With those few words Tristan had let something slip. Something in the tone of his voice. He had revealed more than he had intended, more than he should have. Exposed, Tristan did the only thing he could, he changed the subject. "So what's so impressive about the Madden's library that it made you fall in love?"

"What?"

"The books. The whole 'I'm in love' statement when I first entered," he reminded her. He was still acutely aware of the way her eyes seemed to linger thoughtfully over him, and he silently prayed that she would take the hint and follow his lead. Thankfully she did.

"It's Mr. Madden's collection," Rory gestured for him to come and take a closer look. When he remained rooted in his spot she instinctively grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him closer to the shelf, "It's not just the fact that he has such an extensive range but he has early editions, collectors items. Some of these belong in museums and the rare book collections in libraries. Give me a comfy chair and a never-ending cup of coffee and I'd have died and gone to heaven."

"Well that chair over there looks pretty comfy to me."

She sat down on the appointed chair, her face filled with delight as she relaxed. "Oohh, it is comfy! Now about that coffee..."

"So if I'd conjured up a cup of never-ending coffee you'd be in heaven?"

A look of bliss settled over Rory's face as she closed her eyes and imagined. "Yes."

Tristan's eyes twinkled with mischief and he couldn't help the smirk and his next words, "So being alone here with me is your idea of heaven?"

Her eyes popped opened and she glared at him, and instantly he regretted his words. He had been an idiot, pushed things too far and ruined a perfectly good moment. "I'm sor-"

"You're impossible," she stated but she was smiling.

He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and regained his composure. "Actually, I prefer to think of myself as incorrigible. There's a nicer ring, more finesse and as an aspiring journalist you should understand the importance of choosing one's words."

"Impossible," she reiterated, "You're not incorrigible but plain ol' impossible. Not to mention incredibly frustrating."

"So I frustrate you?" Tristan stepped closer to Rory and leaned down to whisper into her left ear, "Well I'm sure together we can easily find some way to ease your frustration." He heard her groan at his line and chuckled in response. "Now Mary, I know you were considering it, even if only for a second."

"Rory. Her name is Rory."

Both turned their heads at the sound of the new voice, and for a second it was as if someone had pressed the 'pause' button on the remote. A second later and Rory had jumped a few feet away from Tristan as the outsider advanced towards them.

"What are you doing here?" came the newcomer's accusation.

"I was invited," Tristan blinked but was unfazed by the confrontation and deliberately kept his tone mild, "What are you doing here?"

"I came with Rory. Notice that her name is Ro-ry. And shouldn't you be at military school or something?"

Tristan smirked and accepted Dean's challenge. "Do I know you?" He scratched his forehead and pretended to search his memory, although he knew all too well who this person was. "You look vaguely familiar. I know, I know you. Ahh...yes! The stockboy at that nice little market in Stars Hollow. Do you still have that apron of yours? It really was a sensational apron, totally brought out the color of your eyes."

"No," Dean replied through gritted teeth, "I don't still have that apron. And I'm not a stockboy. I'm Rory's boyfriend, remember?"

"De-an." Rory tugged on his sleeve and motioned with her head that she wanted to leave. Dean, however, shook his head in refusal and continued to stare challengingly at Tristan as he waited for his reply.

"So you got promoted? Congratulations!" Tristan held out his hand for Dean to shake and smirked when the other boy refused.

"You're unbelievable. Two years and you're still the same jerk you've always been."

"I know, it's pretty amazing isn't it? Rory and I were just reminiscing before you interrupted." He made his voice sound as innocent as possible, which in turn made his words sound extremely suggestive.

Dean scowled and wrapped his arm around Rory, "Aren't you a little old for mind games?"

"Actually no, it's going to be my major." His cheeks ached from smiling, from pretending nonchalance and indifference. From pretending that he didn't care, that he wasn't hurt. It wasn't so much the fact that Rory was still with Dean, but rather the way she was nervously biting her lip and avoiding eye contact. It was as if their brief moment of camaraderie had not existed, or rather that she was ashamed that it had.

Then she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. "Tristan..." Her voice was filled with something that he didn't want to interpret. Maybe a rebuke, maybe guilt, maybe disappointment, maybe...

Suddenly Tristan felt drained and tired. "It's been a real pleasure getting reacquainted with the both of you. We must do it again." He headed out of the Madden's library only to pause and turn at the door. "Bye Mary. Bye Joseph." And then with his customary smirk, he disappeared.

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