What Would Happen...

"Did you do ask him?" Lane asked the second Rory entered the apartment.

"Yes."

"And?"

"He's coming."

"Great! I called Paris; she's bringing her boyfriend."

"So we finally get to meet Paris' mystery man, huh?"

"It's about time, if you ask me."

"Cool. But...I have nothing to wear, Lane!"

"Sure you do. You better have something for me to wear too, since I really don't feel like driving all the way back home."

Rory racked her brain and couldn't think of anything suitable. "I don't! What am I going to do?"

"Since when are you the kind of person who cares so much about clothes?" Lane paused as if to think. She snapped her fingers. "By George, I think I've got it! Maybe since a certain hunky neighbor re-entered your life."

"No, shut up."

"So you don't deny he's hunky."

"Lane, 1989 called and it wants its word back."

"Fine, since a certain hot neighbor boy entered your life?"

"Shut up, please."

"I'm still not hearing any denials...."

"Look, I'm not blind and I'm only human. Yes, Tristan is good looking."

"I can't believe you gave in that easily. I figured I'd have to bug you a whole lot more."

"Maybe, after all these years, I know you well enough to anticipate you not letting go until I give in and decided to save us both time."

"Hmm. Possibly, or else you just can't deny Tristan's hot. Rory and Tristan sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then...." Rory simply left the room and headed towards her bedroom. When Lane entered the room she narrowly avoided being hit with a shoe, as Rory was halfway in her closet, tossing things about the room. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to wear."

Lane sighed. "Rory, the cheese has slipped off the cracker."

"Excuse me?"

"You have issues. You need to be locked up in a padded room where the little men in white coats can take care of you."

"Lane," Rory groaned and sat back on her heels, "I don't know what's wrong with me. All I can think about is clothes. I've turned into my mother."

"Hey, at least you didn't turn into my mother."

That made Rory smile. She mock-shuddered, "You break, you buy!"

Lane laughed and reached into the closet. She held up a few hangers for Rory's inspection. "What do you think?"

Rory looked at the hangers critically, "I think you are a savant."

"Huh. Do you think I could put that on my resume?"

Across the hall Tristan was also fretting. He wasn't quite sure why. It was just a casual evening, hanging with old friends. "Yeah. Keep telling yourself that," he thought. It bothered him that he was nervous. Tristan DuGrey simply didn't have nerves. Even if he did, it certainly did not act up over simple things like this. "Stop thinking, Tristan. Just get dressed," he spoke the words decisively and continued rummaging through the boxes.

He was ready at precisely 7:00. He had showered and painstakingly dressed and fixed his hair. And girls thought guys didn't care about appearances; if they only knew. He made one last inspection and headed out the door.

In less than ten seconds he was standing in front of Rory's door ready to knock. He lowered his arm and checked his watch. He didn't want to be too early and risk seeming over-eager. He raised his arm to knock again, then lowered it again to perform a quick breath check. He then cursed himself for being so ridiculous and resolutely raised his fist to knock. Before he could, Lane pulled the door open. "Hi!" she chirped, "come on in. Rory will be out in a second."

"Okay. You look nice, Lane." She was wearing shiny black pants, a denim jacket, and a red T-shirt with sparkly things on it.

"Well aren't we the gentleman? Save it, Romeo. I'm a married woman. Don't make me lay the smack down."

"Wouldn't that be Henry's job?"

"Please, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. I don't need a lumberjack to come to my rescue."

"Lumberjack?"

"You know, Little Red Riding Hood. Granny, what big teeth you have."

"I see. So...," he trailed off, and his breath caught as Rory entered the room. Had he thought she was as beautiful as she was in high school? Well, he was wrong. Now she was simply indescribable. "Wow," was all he managed. Her hair was pulled back in twists to a coil at the nape of her neck. She had on a black sleeveless top and a dark purplish-red skirt that ended just past her knees. "Wow."

Rory blushed, "You said that already."

"I thought it deserved to be repeated. You look amazing." And she did. Her outfit wasn't flashy or revealing. It was simple, elegant, and beautiful. Everything Rory herself was.

Lane watched the scene in front of her in amazement. Ryan Phillippe and Britney Spears could have run through the living room naked and neither Rory nor Tristan would have blinked an eye. There was an obvious connection between the two. It would certainly be an interesting evening. She cleared her throat. "Shall we go?"

Rory gave herself a mental slap. "Yeah, just give me a minute to grab my bag."

As she doubled back to her room, the phone rang. Lane checked the caller I.D box. "Rory, don't answer it!"

"Why?" Rory called back.

"It's Patti."

"Oh no." Rory quickly exited her room and rushed into the living room. Hurriedly she began to usher Tristan out of the apartment.

Tristan was confused. "What's your hurry?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing."

He planted his feet. Now he was curious. "So you don't mind if we stay here a minute?"

Rory heard her own voice float across the room from her answering machine. "You've reached Rory Gilmore. I'm not here at the moment, so leave me a message, and I'll get back to you. Thanks."

Lorelai's voice interrupted her daughter, "And if you don't know her, quit watching us, you squirrel pervert!"

Then after a beep, another female voice was heard. "Rory, darling, what's this I hear about a man? Word about town is he's an absolutely delightful specimen. I can't wait to hear all the dirty details, every single one. Call me back, honey."

Lane was doubled over laughing at this point, and Rory's face was an interesting shade of red. "Oh dear God, swallow me into a hole."

"'Delightful specimen'?" Tristan smirked. "Why, Rory, I am shocked."

The phone rang again. This time when Lane checked, it appeared to be a call from Doose's market. "We are so out of here." Rory bodily pushed Tristan out the door and pulled a still giggling Lane out after her.

A half an hour later they pulled into the parking lot of the club. Lane and Rory had spent the ride explaining the various Stars Hollow peculiarities. He now understood a little more about Rory. "So, he really got into a fight with Dean in the middle of the street?"

"Yep, that’s Luke for you. Over-protective even before he was my stepfather. Yay! We're here. Tristan, welcome to Neptunes."

They got out of the car and walked up to the door. "Um, guys? There's a line."

Rory and Lane shared a look. "Tristan, Tristan, Tristan, lines are for the little people." They flipped their hair and stuck their noses in the air.

Walking right up to the bouncer, they tapped him on the shoulder. A rather large dark-haired man turned to face them. Instantly he smiled. "Rory! Lane! You haven't been here in awhile. How are you?"

Rory reached up and hugged him. "Great, Lou! How about you?"

Lane giggled, "You rhymed."

"I know. Lou, this is Tristan. He's an old friend. You may be seeing him around."

Tristan held out his hand, and Lou took it in a bone-crushing grip, sizing the man up. Apparently he passed, because the three of them were waved in. "Come find us on your break!" Rory yelled over her shoulder, and they were swallowed into the crowd.

Neptunes was crowded. There were tables and booths scattered about the edges and a huge dance floor. There was a second level looking down over the floor, and people were dancing to loud pulsating music. Tristan lingered for a minute, checking out the dancers, and earned himself a few appreciative glances. Rory reached back and grabbed his hand, placing it on her shoulder and pulling him along. They reached a fairly secluded corner where the music was a little quieter. Henry, Paris, and another man were already there. They stood as the three approached.

Henry gave Lane a hug and glanced at Rory and Tristan. "And has my beautiful wife been behaving herself?"

Lane placed a hand to her throat dramatically. "Moi? Always."

"Ha!" Rory snorted.

Henry turned to Tristan and shook his hand. "Great to see you man! How are you?"

"Good, really good."

Paris pushed her way through the small group of taller people in true Paris fashion. "Quit hogging my childhood friend."

Tristan smiled. Paris hadn't changed much. Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing a simple black dress. He hugged her. "It's been awhile, Paris."

"It has. This is Drew Robson." Tristan shook Drew's hand and smiled.

"Well," Rory interrupted, "now that we've all been introduced, let's sit." They arranged themselves in a booth; Rory was sitting between Lane and Tristan.

Lane glanced around the table. "Who wants drinks? Henry and I will go." Everyone nodded. "Rory, Coke?"

"We did take my car."

"Tristan?"

"Just a beer. Preferably something Canadian."

"Paris, Drew?"

Paris answered, "White wine spritzer for me and Coke for Drew."

"'Kay."

Henry and Lane left the table, leaving Drew, Tristan, Paris, and Rory alone. There was silence for a minute. Finally Paris broke in, "So Tristan, what have you been up to in your exile?"

Tristan smirked. "You know, drugs, parties, expensive whores."

"Of course," Rory agreed. "You don't want the cheap ones."

Paris glanced back and forth between the two. Nothing had changed there. There was still that chemistry.

Tristan was still smitten, Rory still oblivious. She expected to feel a twinge of resentment, but it never came. She grinned. Paris Gellar was completely over Tristan DuGrey. Wonder of wonders.

"No, actually, I've been busy." Tristan launched into an abbreviated version of the last six years.

As he finished up, Lane and Henry returned. They placed the drinks on the table and sat down. "So, Drew," Lane asked pointedly, "however did you hook up with Paris? Most men get scared away the second she opens her mouth."

Paris mock glared. She and Lane were good friends, and she did not take offense. "No interrogations, please. We're going to dance." She and Drew slipped out of the booth and to the floor.

Tristan watched with interest. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen Paris dance. I wouldn't have thought she knew how."

Lane clicked her tongue. "Tristan, here's a secret. Unlike guys, girls don't need to learn how to dance. Well, unless they want to be ballerinas or something like that. But if a pretty girl just wants to have fun and get the guys bothered, all she has to do is move."

Tristan glanced at Rory and his mouth went dry. Oh yes. I do believe that.

Lane caught the look and stood up. "Henry, dance with me." Before he could reply she dragged him off.

Rory was intently staring at the table. Tristan cleared his throat and she met his gaze. "So," he started, "that Lane, a fountain of wisdom."

Rory smiled briefly. "That's debatable. Sometimes her 'words of wisdom' are more than a little wacky."

Tristan screwed up his courage. "Do you want to..."

"I have to go to the ladies room," Rory interrupted abruptly and walked off. Tristan swallowed hard and shut his eyes. Stop it. Rory is your friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. Quit thinking like that.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Rory leaned on the sink and concentrated on taking deep even breaths. It was just Tristan; an old sparring partner turned new friend. He was only going to ask her to dance. It was just a dance. Dancing equals sex though doesn't it? Rory cursed her mother just then for making her watch all those episodes of Dawson's Creek. It just filled her head with craziness. While she was cursing things, she cursed the little voice in her head that was taunting her. "I'd strangle you in a second, if I could."

"Wait," Rory spoke aloud, "is it a bad sign that I'm having a conversation with the voice in my head?" She looked at the woman next to her who was reapplying some lipstick. The woman averted her eyes and inched away. Rory sighed. "That's what I thought." She tucked back a few errant pieces of hair, smoothed down her skirt, and straightened her shoulders. She began muttering to herself, disregarding the already frightened ladies room patrons, "I am Lorelai Leigh Gilmore. I do not have feelings for Tristan. I never have. I never will." Ah. The power of denial. Resolutely she smacked open the swinging doors and headed back to the table.

Just as the table and Tristan were in her sights, a rather large, rather inebriated man sidled up to her and let his eyes roam over her body. He was openly invading her personal space. "Sweetheart, your feet must be tired, because you have been running through my mind all day!"

Rory stepped back, rolled her eyes, and stifled a giggle behind a polite cough. As far as pick up lines went, that one was the lamest of the lame. "Sorry, I'm here with friends. Have a nice night."

She moved to walk past him but he grabbed her arm roughly. "Hey, I'll be your friend. Then you won't need anymore."

Tristan tapped his foot under the table, anxiously scanning the crowd for Rory. "Where is she?" He knew women took forever in the bathroom, but for a solo trip she was taking an inordinately long time. He caught sight of her coming his way and sighed with relief. "Good. Now don't push it. She doesn't care about you like that. Just talk." Tristan ran a hand through his hair. "Talk. I can do that."

He looked back at Rory and saw her talking to an oversized man. The man's hand was clamped on to her arm and his body was practically brushing up against hers. Tristan looked at her face expecting to see terror, but instead there was only mild irritation. Had she hit her head on something? The guy was huge.

Tristan watched with growing horror as the man began to pull her away. He bolted from the booth and began to push his way through the hoards of people. He momentarily lost sight of her and began to panic. "Excuse me. Sorry. Damn, why won't you all just get the hell out of my way!"

Rory narrowed her eyes. Honestly. You try to be nice. "Hey. Let. Go. Of. Me. Right. Now." She bit out each word forcefully. He simply grinned drunkenly and began to pull on her arm, rapidly dragging her towards the back of the club. "Seriously, leave me alone!" Rory dug in her heels and brought them to a stop. "Darn, and these are new shoes." Rory grasped his arm back and twisted under it. With her back to him she simultaneously stomped down on his foot and buried her elbow in his stomach. Turning to face him, she kneed him in the groin and shoved him away. The crowd around her began to clap and whistle. She stared at her feet, embarrassed, when Tristan burst through the crowd.

She watched him survey the scene. He gazed at her for a few seconds, seemingly assessing the damage. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely. Rory was bewildered. "Tristan? What...."

He pulled back and cupped her face, staring into her eyes. "Are you okay? What happened? I saw... I thought... Jesus." He hugged her again. As he stared over her shoulder, he noticed the man getting up off the floor, still doubled over in pain. He walked past them muttering unintelligibly. "Rory? What happened."

A woman came over and patted Rory on the shoulder. "Good for you, honey. He deserved to get his ass kicked."

Rory smiled at her weakly and watched in amusement as an incredulous expression crossed Tristan's face. "You, little Mary, did that," he pointed to the man hobbling away, "to him."

Rory grinned sheepishly. "Yup."

Tristan shook his head and began to walk over to their table. "And here I was coming to your rescue."

"Aw. That's sweet. Really. But I'm a modern woman, and I don't need a knight in shining armor. I gave up on all the fairy tale stuff."

"Really? You? The eternally optimistic and perky?"

"I'm not perky."

"You're so perky."

"Shut up. It makes me sound like some vapid chick from Malibu."

"Well, you're not vapid. And you're not from Malibu."

"See? Thank you."

Tristan smirked evilly. "But you're still perky. Your perkiness overwhelms me. You're brimming with perkosity."

"First of all 'perkosity' is not a word. Second, don't make me hurt you." She tried to look menacing.

"Ooooh. I'm frightened. Save me from the big bad Rory."

"Damn rights."

Tristan laughed. "Whatever." He began to sing and pretended to disco dance, "Everybody was kung fu fighting..."

"God you're annoying."

"It's a gift."

"Yeah? Well, I'd get a refund."

They were still bickering when Paris strolled up to the table. "Well, well, well. All we need are some blazers and a few lockers, and we'd have traveled back in time."

"Not quite. If we had, then you'd still be the French soda monitor." Drew came up and wrapped his arms around Paris' waist. She listened and smiled. "We're going to go now. School and stuff." She waved and walked off.

Tristan and Rory shared a smile, both knowing what the "stuff" was. "Who knew Paris would ever willingly answer a booty call?"

Rory snorted, "Who even uses the phrase 'booty call'?"

"Well...lot's of people," he finished lamely.

"Sure, I believe you."

"It’s a perfectly good phrase." Rory just looked at him with her eyebrows raided. "Do you really not believe in fate?" Tristan asked suddenly.

"Where did that come from?"

"You said you didn't believe in fairy tales."

"So?"

"So isn't the essence of a fairy tale that things were meant to happen, that people were meant to be together?"

"You misunderstood. I don't believe that things are always so perfect and pretty with the lovers riding off into the sunset. I do believe in fate, but I think it isn't always sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. Take my mom. She was born into the country club set yet she wasn't destined to be there. She could have married my father and had a comfortable life. But she didn't want to live with all the restrictions. So she marched to the beat of her own drummer and ended up with a with a husband and children and a job she loves. It wasn't easy but she’s happy."

They easily slipped back into conversation and spent a long time just talking. They traded ideas and opinions and banter like people who had known one another forever. Rory had definitely missed that-- trading insults with someone who shared her wit and sense of humor, someone who was practically un-insultable.

Eventually though, they fell silent, each lost in private thoughts. The silence grew strained. "So...," Tristan started.

"Let's dance," Rory said impulsively.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's better than just sitting here. If I know Lane, she'll be out there for hours more. Once, at the Stars Hollow festival of traffic lights-"

Tristan cut off he babbling, "Okay."

Rory swallowed, "Okay," she repeated, but made no move to get up. Her throat was very dry. Crazy people should not be allowed in the general public. She needed something to drink. Possibly something with alcohol in it. She watched Tristan closely as he slid out of the booth and over to her. He held out his hand. Rory sent up a quick little prayer to whichever deity happened to be in the vicinity, "Do not let me make a fool out of myself and trip or something." Then she took his hand. He led her out on to the dance floor and turned to face her. The last strains of a fast, loud dance song faded away and were replaced by something a little slower. She was nervous. Remembering Lane's words from earlier, she closed her eyes. She felt the music pound through her body and began to move. Slowly she twirled around and felt freer and more comfortable. Then she opened her eyes.

Tristan had taken her hand and instantly felt more alive. A jazzy, electric feeling entered his limbs. When they hit the dance floor, a song started playing, something kind of slow and vaguely familiar.

If I could have just a moment of you
Would I be wanting more?

Then Rory had started to dance. He watched her for a moment, noticing how well she moved. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were flushed. Her hips swayed to the steady beat and she raised her arms over her head and spun around. A slight smile crossed her face.

If I could have just a taste of you
Would I be addicted?

Her blue eyes met his, and he realized he had been caught watching her. Slowly he reached out his hand, pressed into the small of her back, and pressed her closer to him. She went willingly, her blue eyes never leaving his.

If I could have just a touch of you
Could I tear myself away?

They moved together, their bodies less than an inch apart. Rory draped one arm around his neck, the other resting on his shoulder.

I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin
With no consequence
To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth
Swallow me

He leaned towards her, his lips brushing her hair. He inhaled gently memorizing her scent. It was light and tropical, not overpowering or suffocating.

If I could have just a breath of you
Would you, could you infect me?

"I bet you never thought you would be in this position."

His words startled her and she shivered as his breath tickled her ear. "Position?" She couldn't focus.

If I could have just a view of you
Would you leave your door ajar?

"You know. You, me. Dancing. Willingly"

"Oh." The power of coherent speech had left her.

If I could have just a part of you
Let me drink of your tides

He smirked at her responses. It was nice to know that he could affect her the way she affected him. "So I've finally rendered you speechless?"

I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin
With no consequence
To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth
Swallow me

She didn't respond. He pulled back, his face sliding back over her smooth skin, his lips gliding over her rosy cheek. He gazed at her questioningly.

And after would the silence thicken, stiffen?
Would I run home in the ark with something stolen?
Would you be slinking in my conscience, laughing?
Would this hunger ever cease?

The rest of the room fell away. Tristan realized how close they actually were. He could feel the heat radiating from her body. Rory did too apparently. Her gaze wandered down to his lips.

You are the cliff that I walk
Lord help me if I fall
Are you more than my hunger?
Lord help me if I starve

Tristan was less than inches away from her and she didn't mind. In fact, she wouldn't have minded if he were even closer. Her gaze flicked over his lips and unconsciously the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her parted lips. She saw him swallow, and almost imperceptibly his head began to inch closer. At the last second Rory jerked away.

If I could have just a moment of you
Would I be wanting more?

Tristan suppressed a groan. Intellectually he knew that it was a good thing. They had, after all, only been back in each other's lives for one day. But that really was small comfort.

If I could have just a taste of you
Would I be addicted?

Rory, meanwhile, was confused. The day's events had moved way to fast for her to process. She stopped to help a guy in her building, found out who he was, yelled at him, had a few pleasant conversations, had a few equally pleasant, albeit unexpected, feelings, and now here she twelve hours later racking her brains for a way to break the post-almost kiss silence. "Hey, at least there are no tears involved this time." And the damn little voice was back.

If I could have just a touch of you
Could I tear myself away?

"Well, this is awkward." Tristan's brain racks were well stocked this evening.

I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin
With no consequence
To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth
Swallow me

"Yeah." The silence stretched on once again.

And after would the silence thicken, stiffen?
Would I run home in the ark with something stolen?
Would you be slinking in my conscience, laughing?
Would this hunger ever cease?

Tristan began bludgeoning himself mentally. "Moron!" It was funny. He had mentally berated himself more on this one day than he had in the last six years. Rory Gilmore was a danger to one's mental health.

You are the cliff that I walk
Lord help me if I fall
Are you more than my hunger?
Lord help me if I starve

Rory was getting a headache. Her brain was pinging.

If I could have just a taste of you
Would I be addicted?

He looked down at her. Institutionalization was a risk he was willing to take. Lane bounded up to them "Hey! Henry and I have got to go. Ror, I'll come by tomorrow to...," she trailed off noticing the tense silence. "Ookay. Who went and drank your happy juice?"

Rory managed a tight smile. "Things are fine." She gave Lane a quick hug. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay."

Lane shrugged, taking the hint and left the two to their gaping black hole of silence. Tentatively Tristan broke it. He had to lean in to be heard. "Do you think we should call it a night?"

Rory sighed in relief. All she wanted to do was go home, call her mom, and stuff herself with ice cream. "Yes. If you don't mind."

Tristan stared at her a moment longer. "I'll go get our stuff. Meet me outside?"

"Yep, see you there." They parted ways. Rory ran into Lou on her way out. "Hey," she greeted lifelessly.

Lou made a sympathetic noise, "Bad night?"

Rory considered it. "Not bad, just odd. Very odd."

"Ah. Those can be even worse," Lou spoke with the wisdom of a man who had seen many a person pass in and out of a bar. When you think about it, that made a person pretty wise.

Tristan came out the doors and handed Rory her coat and bag. "Hey, here."

"Thanks. Bye, Lou."

Tristan turned to the burly man. "Nice meeting you." Years of conditioning from society gatherings wouldn't allow him to leave without pleasantries.

Lou simply nodded and turned back to the line. The walk across the parking lot was silent. Both were trying to figure out the best way to have the talk. They got in the car; Rory started it up and went to turn on the radio. Tristan grabbed her hand before it could touch the dial. "Hey, wait a minute. I think we both know that when it comes to certain happenings between the two of us, we need to talk them out. Letting them fester usually makes it worse, remember?" He quickly dropped her hand.

"I remember. I'm like an elephant"

"All right. Well, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you. I misread the signals. How about we forget it and continue with the friends thing?"

Rory placed her hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. "The thing is, Tristan, I don't think you misread the signals."

"What?"

"I mean I don't even know what signals I was giving. I realized tonight that I don't really know you. I barely even knew the teenage you and you're so different now. So yeah, I think we should do the friends thing, other stuff if it is meant to be will be. We both just need time."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and he seemed to be processing her words. He nodded. "O.K." Then he turned on the radio. The drive back to the apartment was also spent in silence, but this time it was comfortable. Both were content to let fate take its way.

They said a quick goodnight in the hall and slipped into their respective apartments. Tristan headed straight for bed, but Rory had other ideas.

She headed into her room, took down her hair, scrubbed off her makeup, and dressed in flannel pajamas. She headed straight to the phone, only stopping to grab a pint of ice cream as she passed the fridge. She settled on to the couch and dialed home. A gruff male voice answered, "Hello?"

"Luke? It's Rory. I need to talk to mom."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Rory glanced at the clock. "Approximately one A.M."

Luke was silent for a moment. He sighed. "Just as long as you’re aware."

Rory could hear him attempt to wake her mother up. "Lor? Lorelai? Wake up." She could also hear her mother's moans of protest. "It's your duplicate."

Finally Lorelai got on the phone, "Darling daughter, pride of my life, how many times have we had the sleep is directly proportional to prettiness talk?"

"I know, Mom. It's important though."

"Hmm. Is it interesting?"

"Define 'interesting'?"

"Does it involve sex, drugs, or rock and roll?"

"It involves Tristan."

"So I got the sex part right?"

"Mom!" Rory admonished.

"Kidding. I'm getting up." Rory was silent as her mother clumped through the house towards the kitchen, where she would undoubtedly make coffee. "So spill."

"Oh, before I start, I'd like to thank you for spreading rumors about me around Stars Hollow. I appreciated all the messages, especially the one from Miss Patti, which Tristan heard."

"I knew you'd be grateful. During our last conversation, I learned that you had become reacquainted with the artist formerly known as the spawn of Beelzebub, who happens to be one fine piece of ass...."

"MOTHER!"

Lorelai began giggling maniacally. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Call it payback for waking me up in the middle of the night."

"Fine." Rory sniffed.

"Anyway, we established that you didn't have sex with him and that he was 'just a friend'. Am I right?"

"Exactly."

"So why did you wake me and Luke, who isn't going to be happy about that, up?"

"Well Lane wanted us all to go to Neptunes, kind of a celebration."

Who do you mean by 'us all'?"

"Lane, Henry, Paris, Drew, Tristan and me."

"Who's Drew?"

"Paris' boyfriend. Focus, Mom."

"Right. Focusing."

"We talked a little. I kind of hurt a guy."

"Why?"

"He wanted me to be his 'friend'."

"Ah. Luke got his money’s worth for those self-defense classes."

"Exactly. So we talked some more, then we danced."

"You danced?"

"Yes."

"Ha! Has Dawson's Creek taught us nothing?"

"Yes, dancing equals sex, according to the girl who went to a mental institution and had slept with a fellow patient."

"I still can't believe she cheated on Pacey like that."

"Mom...."

"I know. Topic. You danced with Tristan. What was the song?"

Rory cringed, "'Taste' by Lorna Vallings."

"Good song. Suggestive song. It was on 'The Skulls' soundtrack, which coincidentally starred Pacey! Sorry. The coffee is ready. I'll be better."

"So we were dancing, and he was close, and he was wearing some really nice cologne, and my heart was just pounding."

"Aw."

"And he was talking to me, and I could not for the life of me talk back intelligently. Then he was looking into my eyes. God, his eyes are so blue. Those are good eyes to have. And he started leaning in, and I pulled away." Rory took a deep breath.

"So you almost kissed him."

"Yes."

"But you really wanted to kiss him."

"Yes."

"But you were scared."

"Gilmore gets the hat trick."

"What exactly is the problem?"

"I barely know him, but it's like I've known him forever. Does that make sense?"

"No, but matters of the heart rarely do."

Rory sighed heavily. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too. Keep me posted."

"Bye."

"Bye, babe."

Rory tossed the phone down, not bothering to see where it landed, then trudged off to bed.

In Stars Hollow, Lorelai headed back to bed with her husband. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. He stirred. "Is Rory okay?"

"Yes and no. I think my baby's about to fall in love.