I guess I just needed a change of pace.
This is Trory all the way, with a bit of surprises throughout.
I don't own, I borrow, so enjoy!!
Rory Gilmore walked up the walkway to the familiar solid-oak door. Her stomach was doing somersaults the US Olympic team would be proud of. Her mind was screaming for her to run the other way, but she wouldn't. She had to face this head-on. She had to have closure. It had to be done.
She stood in front of the door and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, her eyes closed, calming her frazzled nerves before lifting her hand and pressing the doorbell. The whole minute she was waiting she was contemplating just how fast she could get to her car. It was a long walk back to the driveway. Before she could contemplate it even further, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly man in a tuxedo, a stiff, proper smile on his face.
"Ahh, Miss Gilmore. So nice to see you again."
"Armon, it's great to see you too," she said, a genuine smile on her face. She remembered the butler from her previous, yet short visits to the home before. She'd only been there a handful of times, and to her, it was more than enough. However, she liked Armon. He was very kind to her.
"If you'd follow me, everyone is in the sitting room," he said, stepping behind her to take her coat and hanging it over his arm before walking in front of her, leading her down a long hallway to what she assumed was the sitting room and opened the door for her.
"Thank you, Armon," she said, touching his arm before walking into the room.
He nodded slightly at her, a smile on his face as he closed the door, leaving her standing there, her back to whatever she knew she couldn't avoid anymore.
"Rory!" she heard a shout from behind her, that familiar voice that was much happier than she had heard it in the past, but a voice she knew just the same.
She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath to calm her nerves, her mother's voice blaring in her head.
Suck it up, kid. You can do this.
Leave it to her mother to be so blunt, even in her mind. She straightened her shoulders, opened her eyes, and turned around, plastering as big a smile as she can muster.
"Paris, you look great," she said, and meant it. The woman who had once been her rival, then one of her greatest friends stood before her grown up, a smile that was so bright it reached her eyes.
"And you look like you haven't slept in days," Paris quipped, her tone unusual although the content showing just how little the blunt woman had really changed.
"You say the sweetest things," Rory deadpanned.
"Hey! You are my Maid of Honor, and that means bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, got it!"
She nodded and saluted, "Aye, aye, Mon Capitan."
Paris grinned and walked over to her, wrapping her in a tight hug, Rory's arms pinned beneath hers.
"Paris," Rory coughed, "Need to breath."
"Right," Paris said, stepping back. "We have a lot to talk about. The Best Man will be here shortly, and we need to work out the details of the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Of course, both will be tasteful. No tassels!" She turned abruptly and eyed the person behind her.
"No tassels, babe. I promise," the man said, his hands up in surrender as he walked over to the two women. He slid is arm around Paris' waist and kissed her cheek before looking over at Rory, a pensive and cautious look in his eye.
"How are you, Ace?" Logan Huntsburger asked, his one hand on his fiancé, the other tucked tightly in the pocket of his steel gray dress slacks.
"Good, Logan. You look happy." She meant it. He had a look of peace about him that was never there before.
He smiled and looked from her to Paris, his smile growing bigger, then back to her.
"I am."
Rory just stood and watched the two together. She never would have figured in a million years that these two people before him would ever be in the same room again, much less be getting married.
After Rory's graduation, she set out on the road with Obama's campaign, soaking in as much as she possibly could. When the campaign starting dying down, she had sent her resume to several papers on the east coast, even sending some to Huntsburger-owned papers. She figured she'd had enough experience to take on Logan's father, or anyone else for that matter.
While on tour, she and Paris exchanged emails regularly. Paris had told her about the horrible breakup between her and Doyle, finding him in bed with her life coach of all things. Rory was there for her, even called her once a week to check on her. They kept in touch for most of the time Rory was away.
Rory had been home for a week to unwind, she got a call from Paris, asking her to meet her at the coffee shop they used to frequent in college. As she entered the restaurant, she noticed Paris sitting in the far-left corner, arguing with whoever was on the other end of her phone. As soon as she saw Rory walking toward her, she quickly hung up, and whenever Rory would ask her what that was about, Paris would change the subject, until Rory got up aggrevated and ready to leave. Paris then spilled that she had run into Logan a few weeks ago at the hospital where she was interning and had been seeing each other. Rory nodded and told Paris not to worry, that she was surprised, but happy that her friend found someone. Inside, she was hurting though. Her best friend and her ex-boyfriend had found comfort in each other, and yet, she was still alone.
She had moped around her childhood home for the rest of that week, her mother asking her if she was upset that Logan had moved on, or was it just the fact that he moved on before she did. She wasn't sure. She had kept in touch with Paris through phone calls and emails, always keeping a happy, supportive tone in her conversations. When Paris called one day screaming on the phone that Rory had to get back to Hartford because she was getting married and there was no way she was marrying Huntsburger without her best friend there, Rory was speechless. Her emotions were on overload. She didn't know what to say, so she simply said she'd be there. She would never tell her friend that she just didn't see how they would be good together.
Now, seeing them together, him holding her close to him, she could see it. They loved each other. While no one on this earth would ever imagine those two people together, they fit. Standing there, watching them, she realized that she was truly happy for her two friends. They had found the peace with each other that neither of them could find anywhere else. She smiled a genuine smile, suddenly any doubts and jealousy she had been harboring leaving as she looked at them.
"I just want to say how happy I am for you, and I'm honored to stand up with you on your wedding day."
Paris, never one to really show her emotions, started tearing up, moving away from Logan to capture Rory in another big hug, effectively cutting of her air supply. Rory let out a whoosh of air and rolled her eyes, looking over at Logan who was laughing at them. He met her gaze and smiled softly, showing his gratitude at her blessing.
"Paris," Rory groaned, "you'll have a dead Maid of Honor if you don't let go."
Paris let go and rolled her eyes.
"Don't be such a wuss, Gilmore. Now, come sit down so we can plan this shindig!" She grabbed Rory's hand and pulled her toward the couch, pulling her down with her.
Plopping on the couch next to her friend, Rory adjusted herself to a more comfortable position and looked down at the notebook on the coffee table in front of her.
"Okay, okay. Do you have a guest list prepared?"
"For mine, there's only you and me."
"Paris, there has to be more than that to make a bachelorette party. I can't be the only one to humiliate you throughout the night."
Paris shrugged and looked down at her notes, "You are my only real friend, and therefore I only need you there."
Rory looked at the woman who was trying, in true Paris fashion, to tamper down any emotions that might be creeping up. She placed her hand over Paris' and squeezed softly.
"Okay. Hey, how about I invite my mom too? She always knows how to have a good time."
Paris looked at Rory and grinned softly, "I'd like that. I've always liked Lorelai."
"She always liked you too. She would love to help you celebrate in the tackiest way possible."
Logan chuckled, "At least she likes one of us."
Rory looked up at him, surprised at first, then laughed softly. Logan has never been Lorelei's favorite person.
"Well, this is for Paris. I'm sure she'll be thrilled," she said, basically moving on from any more discussion about why her mother disliked the young man. "So who is your Best Man? Did you pick just one of them, or opt for both Colin and Finn?"
"Actually, I decided to ask my cousin to stand up for me."
Rory looked at him confused, "I didn't know you had a cousin."
Logan shrugged, shoving his hands back into his pockets, "I hadn't talked to him in a while since his parents sent him away. I caught up with him about a year ago. Basically, emailing him back and forth until I finally called the idiot. He should be here any minute."
Rory nodded; slightly unsettled that she never knew something like that about the man she was supposed to be in love with just a short while ago. Shaking her head of the thought, she looked back down at the notebook in Paris' lap and started going over the arrangements for the party. The wedding was in two weeks, so they decided to schedule the party for the week before. That way, both bride and groom would make it to the alter alive and sober.
She heard the faint sound of the doorbell chime as she continued on working with Paris. She had to admit her curiosity was at a high at the moment. She was interested in meeting this person whom she had no idea even existed until five minutes prior. Logan had excused himself and left the room, apparently to meet whoever this person was halfway. He'd left the door open and she heard muffled voices coming down the hall toward them.
"Paris, have you met his cousin?"
Paris shook her head, "No, but Logan said it was important to him that he stand up for him."
Rory nodded, looking perplexed. The voices got louder and she could hear laughter from both men as they approached the room. She looked back down at the notebook as they entered, not wanting to look to eager.
"Come on in, and let me introduce you to my beautiful bride and her Maid of Honor."
"It's about time, ya jerk," the man chuckled. Something in his voice sounded vaguely familiar to Rory.
"Babe, this is my cousin, Tristan. Tris, this is my fiancé, Paris-"
"Well, Paris Gellar, as I live and breathe. How did you snag my idiot cousin?"
Rory's breath caught in her throat. Tristan? Could it be the same Tristan? The Tristan from Chilton? Bible-boy Tristan?
Paris stood up and placed her hands on her hips, "Well as I live and breathe, it's Tristan DuGray. Would've thought you'd be in prison by now."
Tristan laughed as he leaned over, kissing Paris on the cheek, "Funny Gellar. And who is this lovely lady?"
Rory, trying to control her shaking, stood up slowly and turned around, finding Tristan's eyes go wide at the site of her.
"Hello, Tristan."
"Mary?!"
