Title:  Independence Day
diddleesquat@excite.com 

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS / PAIRING: Rory/Tristan 
SUMMARY: Mostly Rory POV with interaction with Dean and Tristan
<Author's Note: This takes place after the season finale.  As much as I
hated to see Dean and Rory get back together, this is my way of dealing with
it.  I know it seems rushed and probably unrealistic.  But hey.  My story.
DISCLAIMER: I've borrowed these characters to make them perform my
every whim.  I don't own them, as much as I'd like to get my hands on
Tristan.




“Blue or green?”

Rory looked off in the distance, watching the people mingle in the crowd. 
Faces disappeared among the mass of  people.  Faces of people she didn’t
recognize, or wouldn’t be able to place even if she did.  Suddenly she
realized he was talking to her.  “Hmm?”

“What color do you want?  Blue or green?”

She distractedly looked at the table, taking her mind off of whatever she
had been thinking.  And she hadn‘t be thinking about anything in particular.
Which was often the case any more.  She was staring into space, wondering
different thoughts, none of which had much to do with anything in
particular.  What was that phrase the psychiatrists use?  Stream of
consciousness.  Although she wasn‘t sure that applied here, because
typically that was used for conversation, when this was just in her head. 
Wait, she was doing it again.  “Umm.”

She pondered for a few moments, trying to force herself to focus on what was
being asked of her.  As if she was not even involved in the conversation,
she continued to hem and haw until finally grasping what was expected ofher.

“Come on Rory.  It’s not like you’re picking out the colors for your
wedding.  It’s just cotton candy.”  

Rory was a little taken aback by the exasperation in his voice.  “Pink”, she
said, noncommittally.  She couldn’t have cared less what color it was.  In
fact, she didn’t much care if she had it at all.  He had offered and she had
accepted, in the politeness that had become their relationship.  

Rory watched as Dean paid for her treat, and took the bag of candy as he
half-heartedly handed to her, neither one much interested in the exchange.

They began to weave their way through the crowds of people gathered in the
park.  Ever since she was little, she had made it a point to attend the
Hartford 4th of July Celebration.  When she was younger, the thrill of the
spinning rides and the Ferris wheel beckoned to her.  There was simply a
different atmosphere at the carnival.  People walked through the fairways,
playing the games, and generally just chatting with fellow fair goers.  She
and Lorelai would take every opportunity to make fun of the “carnies”.  For
them, it wasn’t just a carnival, it was a circus.

But this year was different.  This year there wasn’t a Lorelai to comment on
the guy with green hair running the merry-go-round.  Instead, she and Dean
were out for a night of “fun”.  

However, she had yet to have much fun this evening.

In the weeks since they got back together, Rory experienced almost every
emotion of a relationship.  The newness of being together wore off quickly,
and she was, dare she say, bored.  She and Dean got along well, but the
spark had faded.  Initially, she had thought she missed him.  She had since
learned she was only missing the idea of him.  As much as she didn’t like to
admit it, she liked having a boyfriend.  She liked having someone to relay
the tales of the day to, someone to joke with.  But when she faced the
reality of it, she realized that it could be anyone.  There was nothing
special about her and Dean.

At one point, she thought she and Dean were the same.  They were both
students living in Stars Hallow, approximately the same age.  But that was
as far as the similarities went.  She had since learned that they were not. 
While Rory put effort into studying and her grades, Dean seemed only to
concern himself with his job and with working on his bike.  She wasn’t able
to study with him, because the subjects studied at Chilton varied
drastically from the ones at Stars Hallow.  She couldn’t gossip about the
latest scandal in the Chilton hallway and she didn’t understand the
significance when he discussed the latest breakup at Stars Hallow.  

They had fallen into the rut most couples face after being together for 
sometime.  At times she wondered what was keeping her there.  Did she really
care for him, or was this relationship a facade of convenience?  She had
once told Dean she loved him, but she doubted she meant it.  The words were
only uttered that one time, and she knew Dean resented the fact that she
could not, would not say them again.  Had she said them just so that he
would come back to her?

Overall, their relationship had become... comfortable.  They knew each
other’s routine, and nothing was surprising anymore.   

There was just something lacking.  And she knew what that something was.

Once upon a time, she experienced what she thought was chemistry between
them.  The magic of their first kiss was simply that.  Magic.  The kind that
you think you see something, when really you don’t.  You know how the first
time you see a rabbit pulled out of a hat, you think it’s spectacular.  It’s
the coolest thing you’ve ever seen.  But once you mature and see how it’s
done, you realize what you saw the first time was not magic.  It was an
illusion.  You believed it was magic because you had never seen it done
before..

Much was the same for their first kiss.  Rory had thought it was special,
but then again, she had nothing to compare it to.  Their first kiss was
magical in the sense that it was her first.  But beyond that, there was
nothing spectacular about the way their lips touched.  And after weeks of
kissing Dean, she learned one thing.  She didn’t feel that spark that she
had always heard about.  That electricity that was supposed to shoot through
your spine, making your fingers tingle and your knees weak.  The spark that
caught the breath in your throat and made your heart skip a beat before
racing at the thought of him.  She wouldn’t have thought much of it, and
probably would have convinced herself that this was the way it was supposed
to be, if it wasn’t for one fact.

She knew what that spark felt like because she had felt it once.

She shook her head slowly, not wanting to return to the train of thought
that had plagued her for so long.  Didn’t want to think about “him.”  Didn’t
want examine the implications of that one short kiss, for fear of what she
may discover there.  Couldn’t bring herself to relive the moment for fear
that anyone in the vicinity could hear her heart thump and see her palms
begin to sweat at just the memory of that kiss.  

And so she ran from it.  Ran from him.  

Avoiding the feelings that had overtaken her that night.  Ignoring the fact
that she had initiated the kiss by looking at his lips.  Erasing the thought
that she had let him kiss her, even after he gave her a clear opportunity to
pull away.  And certainly not dwelling on the fact that she had kissed him
back.

Those were thoughts she didn’t want to think about.  Couldn’t think about. 
Cause if she did, she would force herself to consider the impossible.  And
that was something that didn’t fit into the perfectly constructed Rory
Gilmore Universe.  

But now, she didn’t have to worry about it.  He had seen her kiss Dean.  He
had heard her say the words to him, and had heard her use that awful 4
letter word to describe him.  She had often heard of the dreaded “four
letter words” but had never considered that the word “hate” could be perhaps
the harshest.

Her stomach turned as she thought back to that day.  Why had she said that? 
She knew she didn’t mean it.  She had let herself do something she prided
herself on not doing.  She went for revenge.  He had pushed her to the
limit, and she let it out in that one word.  But she didn’t hate him.  She
couldn’t hate him.  Because you don’t kiss someone you hate.

And you certainly don’t think of him during quiet times and wonder what it
would be like to kiss him again.  

She mentally slapped herself, realizing this inward conversation had turned
to the thoughts she swore to avoid.  She was with Dean.  And regardless of
where her thoughts had taken her, she owed him her attention.  She chided
herself and committed herself to the event of tonight, swearing that her
only thoughts would be of Dean, and of this romantic night they were to
share.

And then there he was.

As if thinking about him had caused him to magically appear, her resolve
disappeared at the mere sight of him.  His back was to them and he was
dressed casually for the summer night.  If it weren’t for the familiar
slouching position, she may not have recognized him at all.  

Her heart caught in her throat as she watched his familiar movements.  He
was staring off at something in the distance, running a hand through his
trademark tousled hair.  She was sure if he were facing her, she would see
that smirk that always grazed his face.

And in that moment she knew what she had to do.  Certain that Dean would not
have recognized him, she seized the moment to break away.

“Hey.  Why don’t you go find us a spot to watch the fireworks?  I just saw
someone I’ve been meaning to talk to.  This’ll just take a sec and then I’ll
be right there.”

Dean shrugged in agreement, then leaned in to give her a quick kiss.  She
turned her head slightly, his kiss missing his aim and landing on her cheek.
He gave her a quick puzzled look, then turned to head in the direction of
the ball fields.

She watched him walk away, and then turned to the task at hand.  Taking a
deep breath she braced herself for what she was sure was going to be a
difficult conversation, and crossed the few feet to stand behind him

“Hey.”

She saw his head snap around at her word, unaware that it was her voice that
startled him so.

Quickly regaining his composure, he returned the greeting, desperately
trying to sound uninterested.

They had not seen each other since school let out over a month ago, and
before that they had avoided each other in the hallway.  She was unsure how
affected he was by her insults, but he had stopped talking to her
altogether.  And she hated to say it, but she missed the banter they shared.

His standoffish attitude told her to proceed with caution.

“So, are you having a good time?”  They both knew this was a thinly veiled
conversation starter.  

“Yeah, loads of fun,” he answered sarcastically.

Her response was soft and barely audible, “oh”.

Tristan’s eyes flicked to her face, and quickly looked away, avoiding the
danger in the depths of her eyes.

“Is there something you wanted to say, or are we going to keep up the
meaningless small talk we’ve got going on.”

His tone was bland and Rory had never heard him use this tone with her. Usually 
he was teasing, or laughing, but today, he seemed uninterested.

Rory looked at her feet, tracing circles in the dirt with her sandal.  She
was unsure how to broach the subject, finally deciding to be straight forth.

“I wanted to apologize for that day at school.”  She wasn’t specific, but
she didn’t need to be.  They both knew which day she was referring to,
having been etched in their minds since it’s occurrence.

Tristan’s eyes again flickered, and Rory wasn’t sure, but she thought she
saw a sign of hurt there.

“Can we not do this?”  His manner was serious, indicating his desire not to
proceed with the conversation.  “It’s over.  In the past.  Forgotten.  Let’s
just move forward.”

Rory knew how untrue that was.  If it was forgotten, he never would have
treated her with the coldness she had to endure the final days of school. 
Her words had hit their intended mark, and she had regretted them everyday
since their utterance.  How could she have been so cruel?

Having decided to end the conversation, Tristan again turned around,
seemingly oblivious to Rory standing there.  With more determination than
ever, she trudged onto shaky ground.

She reached out her hand, lightly touching his arm.  “Tristan, please.”  

Electricity shot through both their bodies at the touch.  Rory quickly drew
back her hand, trying not to let him see.  Her heart beat faster than she
ever thought it could.  Her hands immediately felt sticky, and the lump in
her throat returned.  Each little feeling confirming her previous
suspicions.  She had never felt that surge when she kissed Dean, let alone
just brushing his arm.  Avoiding the implications of that realization, she
quickly spoke, afraid her silence would reveal more than she herself was
prepared to grasp. 

“I’m trying to apologize.”  

He continued to stare off into the distance, avoiding any eye contact with
her.  His aloofness was betrayed only by the slight twitching of his jaw.

“And I’m telling you there’s no need.  I pretty much deserved it.”  His
answer was curt, intending to once again end the conversation.

“Well, even if you did, I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”  He noticed
that she didn’t contradict him.  “It’s just... well it’s just, I was
speaking before I thought.  I was so happy to see Dean that my emotions were
all muddled up, and I just said the first thing that came to my mind.”

She continued.  “I didn’t mean it.  I don’t hate you.  It’s just that
sometimes you push me to the limit.  And I was hoping, that after all of
this, maybe we could just sta...”

“Rory, I swear, if you use the words “start” and “over” in that next
sentence...”  

He looked at her blankly.  He had expected her to come up with some excuse,
convincing him that that was not what she was going to say.  But she
conceded easily.

“There’s been so much between us that we can’t just start over.  And I’m not
sure I want to.  We had our bad times, but somewhere in there, there were a
few good ones.”  He looked away again, unwilling to meet her eyes at that
last statement.

Rory’s thoughts immediately returned to the night of the party and to their
kiss.  And as it always did, her heart skipped a beat at the memory of his
lips on hers.

“So I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she finished meekly.

He looked over at her again, and she noted the look in his eyes.  He tried
to give her a half smirk, but it never reached his eyes.  She was beginning
to realize how sensitive he was to this issue.  For all the games he played,
and all the times he would declare otherwise, Tristan had a soft side.  He
may not let his guard down often, but she had been witness to a different
side.  The side of him that showed pain, the side that showed caring.  And
just knowing that side was in there, buried underneath his arrogance was
enough to give her hope.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”  

“Sure.” 

And she turned her back on him and headed toward Dean.

Her mind again wandered over various topics as she made her way to Dean. 
She saw him sitting on blanket spread on the ground.  She couldn’t help but
notice that she had no reaction to his presence.  No fluttering of the
heart.  No desperation to run to his arms.  No desire to entwine her fingers
with his.  And in that moment she made a choice.

She approached, him almost wincing at the smile he greeted her with. 
Realizing that he did not share her indifference, she struggled to find the
words to begin the conversation.  She took a seat on the blanket facing him,
blatantly ignoring the spot he cleared for her next to him.  He knew
immediately by the look on her face that something was bothering her.

“What’s wrong?”  The apprehension in his voice was evident.

She remained silent for a few moments, gathering her thoughts.  Finally, she
decided to just jump in.

“Why did you come back to me?”  Her question was direct and she noticed the
startled look on his face.

“What?”

“That day, when you came to my school...why were you there?”

She watched him shift uncomfortably.  When he didn’t immediately answer, she
prodded on.

“If I hadn’t said ‘I love you’, would you have walked away?”

He broke the eye contact, and she knew what his answer would be  As he tried
to gather the words to speak, she stopped him.

“Maybe it’s better if you don’t answer that.”

She started to pick at invisible specks on the blanket.  She couldn’t mee
this eyes when she said what she was about to say.

“Dean, I don’t think I know what love is.  I said it that day, mainly out of
fear that if I didn’t, you’d walk away.  But I don’t think I love you.  I’m
16.  I don’t think I’m supposed to know what love is yet.  I know that I
like you, that you’re nice, and I miss you when you’re not around.  But I
don’t think that’s love.  And I can’t make myself say it or feel it when I
don’t.”

She took a deep breath, forging forward with the already difficult speech.

“And I know you need me to say it, but I can’t.  I’m not sure if I’ll ever
be able to say it to you.  

“Rory...” his voice was pleading.

She held up her hand to stop him.  “I need to do this.”

Another deep breath.

“Dean I think we should break up.”

Her eyes briefly met his, before she had to look away.  She didn’t want to
hurt him, but she knew she was.

“There’s someone else isn’t there.”  His emotionless voice was more of a
statement than a question.

She continued to pick at the blanket.  “No.”  Her voice wasn’t convincing
even to herself.  “I mean there’s no one specifically.  I just don’t feel
about you the way you do about me.  There’s no spark there.”

“And there is with someone else,” he prodded.  He wouldn’t drop the issue.

Rory’s eyes flitted to his, and quickly away again.  Her silence confirmed
his fears.  “I saw you talking to Tristan.”

“It’s not what you think.  I was apologizing for something I did.”

“What do you have to apologize for?  He’s the one that’s made your life a
living hell since day one.”

“He’s not always like that.  We came to an understanding, and even formed 
atentative friendship.  He‘s not as bad as I once thought.”

Dean absorbed the information with a little indignation.  “Something’s
changed.  You never used to hesitate to complain about his actions.  Did
something happen between you two?”

Rory knew that she couldn’t lie.  She and Dean had been together too long
for her to get away with that.  So as much she knew she was going to hurt
him, she went ahead and said it.

“He kissed me.”

A slight groan broke the awkward silence.  “I told you he had a thing for
you.  When did this happen?”

Rory paused.  “The night after we broke up.”

She saw him wince at her confession.  He sat with his knees bent, arms
carelessly resting on them.  He closed his eyes, absorbing the information.

“And you kissed him back.”

Her slight nod was enough.

“And now you’re breaking up with me after one kiss with him.  Did I mean so
little to you that you could run out and kiss your worst enemy hours after
we broke up?”  His voice was tinged with hurt.

“It’s not like that.  He was upset and so was I.  I was lending an ear and
he returned the favor.  And... it just sort of happened.”

It was Dean’s turn to pick at the blanket.  “When you kissed him, did you
feel something?”

Again she nodded.  

Dean released the breath he had been holding in a tired sigh.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed between the both of them.  Rory was
unsure of how he was taking all the information, but she was too afraid to
look at him and see.  He finally broke the silence.

“Rory, I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  He paused.  “You may not
know what love is, but I do.  And regardless how you feel about me, I still
love you.  But I can’t convince you or force you to feel the same.  So if
you think we should break up, what can I do but let you go?”

“I’m sorry Dean.”  And she was.  But she couldn’t stop the feeling of relief
that swept over her at his acceptance.  She had been afraid that he would
try to convince her otherwise.   She had made up her mind, and such antics
would only serve to hurt him further.

She stood, brushing off the backs of her legs.  “I’m going to stay at my
grandparents tonight.”

She didn’t think he heard her.  Then she saw him nod in recognition.  Rory
crossed her arms over her stomach, and walked away.

Mindlessly, she walked back through the park.  She used her mom’s borrowed
cell and asked her grandfather if he would pick her up.  After making
arrangements, she continued on her path.  It was eerie how calm her voice
sounded even to her own ears.  The breakup was swift, and seemingly pain
lesson her part.

She meandered through the midway, keeping her eyes focused on the ground.  A
few steps later, she looked up stopping abruptly.

There he was again.  He didn’t see her at first as he was turned away from
her.  She took a deep breath, an action she seemed to be doing a lot that
night.  A million thoughts coursed through her mind as she watched him
standing there.  Not the least of which was the thought of what his presence
did to her.  She felt her palms begin to sweat and her heart race just
looking at him.

She needed to know if what they had shared was a fluke or if it was real. 
She debated for a moment, deciding it was worth it to find out.  She paused
momentarily, before throwing caution to the wind.

She crossed the space between them, trying not to let her mind dwell on what
she was doing.  She surprised herself at her own boldness.  Lightly grabbing
his arm, she didn’t withdraw when she felt the electricity between them. 
She tugged slightly turning him to face her.

“Rory, I thought...”

She reached her hand up, lacing her fingers through the back of his hair. 
Swiftly, she pulled his head down to hers, taking his lips in an urgent
kiss.  Her lips moved against his, searching for her answer.  The kiss
lasted only seconds longer than their first, but it was time enough for her
to recognize that feeling.

She pulled away, her hand still resting on the back of his neck.  He looked
at her in puzzlement, and she smiled in return.

“I thought I owed it to myself to see if it was real.”

“If what was real?”

“That feeling.  That tingling sensation I felt the first time you kissed me.
The electricity shooting through my veins at your touch.  The weakness in my
knees at being in your presence.”

The trademark smirk reappeared.  “And was it?”

Her eyes glinted in amusement.  “I think so.  I mean... I think I need to
try again.”

She again pulled his lips to hers.  He deepened the kiss, and she responded
in kind.  His hands moved to her face, holding her delicately as his lips
searched out her own.  Reluctantly, he pulled away first.  He rested his
forehead against hers, as they both tried to gather their breath.  Her free
hand moved up to his face, rubbing her thumb over his lip, wiping away the
smudges from her lipstick.

Gaining her composure, she finally spoke.  “I think we’re missing the
fireworks.”

A grin touched his lips as he silently thanked God for whatever had came
over her.  “I think I prefer these fireworks much more.”  

As he leaned in for another kiss, she decided that she most definitely did
too.


End.