An Author's Ramblings- Sorry this took so long. I really meant for it to be done a lot sooner, but things happened, and this kind of got placed on the back burner. But it's finished, and that is very much because of the gentle prodding and great help from my betas. Without them, I would seriously be lost. Thank you to Amy for her help with the intro, and thanks to my RW friend Nicoley-Oley for the nice proofing job of the rest, and for demanding that I fix some things in the dirty part...

So, I think that my favorite requirement was the fact that I got to erase the icky season four finale. This fic is roughly taking place in January, right before the spring semester of their Freshmen year at Yale. Tristan and Rory have been together for a about five months, beginning to date near the end of the summer. I'm sure that you can figure out the rest without any of my help…

Written For: Sara (Shouhei)

Rating: NC-17

Things to be included:

First snow (either of the season, or of the year)

Tristan and Rory are in an established relationship

Rory loses her virginity

Reference to the Wizard of Oz

Lorelai (in some form or fashion)

Things NOT to be included:


Any past fights


Ready Freddy

It was now or never.

She was ready.

Rory Gilmore was going to take the big plunge.

And she couldn't be any more terrified.

His close proximity had her tingly, as her body slowly rose higher and higher.

The nearer she came to the tip of the climax, the more nervous and breathless she became.

She tensed, her body going slightly rigid, from nerves or excitement she didn't know. If he noticed, he didn't let on.

The nearer she came to the peak, the more nervous and breathless she became. Leaning over her, he whispered in her ear, "Bend your knees a little. It'll be easier for you to get off."

Rory's blue eyes met his, calming her slightly when she saw the reassurance that they held. He always could calm her down with one mesmerizing look.

God, did she want him.

Holding her breath, they both reached the top, and to her surprise, she didn't fall.

Then, there she was, at the edge.

She could feel his hands at her sides, steadying her.

His hot breath hitting the side of her cheek.

His body pressed into her, molding perfectly.

She could barely process the words that he was saying, but she nodded absently anyway.

After all, the sooner that he was finished, it would be over.

"Ready?" He asked, his hands still resting on her hips.

"Ready…" She repeated, not fully comprehending his meaning.

Suddenly, her body lurched forward, and she was flying over the edge she had been teetering on only seconds before.

The world around her became a blur as she picked up speed, hurtling faster and faster into the hazy oblivion down below.

It felt good.




Why in the world had she waited so long to give this a whirl?

The answer was unclear.

He had followed her, keeping up with her pace as she went.

As always, he was right.

It was an amazing rush.

Her body slowed down, reaching the end, and she reluctantly returned to reality. The surroundings came back into focus, their shapes becoming sharper.

She took a deep breath, still a little astonished that she had done… that.

Rory felt his arms around her again, and she gratefully sunk into his embrace, satisfied with her accomplishment.

"What'd you think?" Tristan asked, pulling her closer.

"I can't believe that I did that." She smiled widely. "It was amazing."

"I told you."

"You were right." Rory admitted a little reluctantly, despite the immense enjoyment that she had just gotten from their previous activities. "Can we do it again?"

"Baby, we can spend all day doing this if you want." He smirked, happy with himself. Tristan was still a little surprised that she had gone through with it. There were a few moments before that she had almost faltered, and he thought that she was going to back out.

"Yippee!" He smiled at her childlike reaction, and he leaned down and kissed her.

Breaking away, she grinned, and then started to pull him along with her. "I can't wait to call Mom. She'll never believe that I actually went skiing!"


It wasn't until just before sunset that the couple hiked back to the Dugrey family ski lodge. Rory's nose was crimson, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her hair wet from the first snowfall of the New Year, but she was quite happy with her accomplishments of the day.

She had skied. She had skied well. Rory Gilmore had skied down several different slopes, and had only fallen four times. Beginner's luck must be on her side, or possibly some natural talent for the activity.

Rory knew that it wasn't all beginner's luck, nor was it all natural talent, even though she must have had a little of both. She knew that it had a lot to do with her very patient, very skilled, and very hot ski instructor.

Tristan never pushed her to do anything that she didn't feel comfortable with. In the nearly six months that they had been dating, he had let her explore, while occasionally giving her a helping hand, or a nudge in the right direction. But he had never accelerated their relationship past her comfort zone, no matter how frustrating it must have been for him.

As her mother had put it, Tristan was the perfect man.

He was charming and debonair, managing to impress her grandparents with his good name and financial stability, in addition to being a Yale man, like his father and his grandfather.

He had practically made Lane swoon with his extensive knowledge about various obscure bands that no one but the two of them had ever heard of, prompting her to inform Rory that she was willing to take him off her hands if Rory was ever to decide that she was tired of him.

He had weaseled his way into her mother's heart by plying her with coffee, of course. After all, it is a well-known fact that the only true way to win over a Gilmore Girl is with coffee.

But Tristan hadn't needed to impress her with his bank statement, or his exceptional ability to make coffee, (although it was a major plus.) The way that he treated her with respect, the look in his eyes the first time he had told her he loved her, and the breathless feeling that she was left with in his presence were more than enough for her.

She loved him.

He loved her.

And she was ready.

She was finally ready.

He opened the door for her, and Rory sighed as the warmth of the lodge greeted them. They quickly peeled off the many layers that had kept them from the brink of hypothermia, which incidentally had added some nicely placed padding for the few spills that she had taken on the mountain earlier.

Rory's breath hitched a little as his shirt rode up slightly while he removed his polarfleece pullover. God bless static cling, she thought as her eyes took in the well-defined expanse of muscle.

"Coffee?" Tristan asked, bringing her back to reality. Shaking her head, she put her scarf on a peg next to her ski jacket.


Tristan stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, not believing what he had just heard her say. "I'm sorry, I don't think that I heard you correctly. Did you just say that you didn't want coffee?"

"Yeah, why?" Rory asked, wondering why he was so shocked.

"Doesn't that go against just about everything that is good and holy in the Gilmore Handbook?" Tristan asked, still looking on in disbelief.

"Ah, but you forgot about the Cocoa Clause." Rory giggled, taking his hand and leading still dumbfounded Tristan down a long hallway to the spacious, rustic kitchen. "Article 2-7a reads that a Gilmore Girl is permitted to forego coffee in lieu of a beverage containing massive amounts of chocolate."

"Is that your way of asking for hot cocoa?" Tristan asked, taking a pitcher of milk out of the refrigerator, along with a few bars of chocolate from a jar in the pantry.

"Yes please!" Rory grinned widely, hopping up to sit on he butcher block countertop next to him. She swiped a morsel of chocolate when he turned around to grab a saucepan from a low cabinet. Biting into the sweet treat, she admired the picture he was setting before her. He really did have an exceptionally nice ass. Ironically, Lorelai was the first one to realize this, and announced it to half the town during the end of summer festival, thus ensuring the pinchfest that the poor boy's cheeks had to endure at the hands of Ms. Patty.

But then, Ms. Patty was entirely correct when she said that he had buns like two ripe melons, plump and juicy, just waiting for someone to come along and… Rory could feel herself growing hot, heat already starting to pool in places, just from thinking about him. She grabbed another brick from the small stack next to her, chewing furiously on the mass of melty, chocolaty goodness inside of her mouth.

"Why is it that you can't just ask for something like a normal—HEY!" Tristan exclaimed when he turned, pot in hand. "If you eat any more of that your cocoa will be turning into warm milk, and I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to go to bed yet."

If you only knew, Rory thought. She could feel her cheeks turning red as her thoughts ran away from her yet again. I'm more than ready to go to bed. With you, that is. However, she had absolutely no plans of sleeping.

When he had suggested that they spend their last weekend of freedom before the spring semester started at the ski lodge, just the two of them, she jumped at the chance. With all that alone time in the picturesque mountains of Vermont… well, anything could happen.

They had talked about the possibility of sex weeks ago, when she had informed him that she had started to take the pill. Tristan had seemed surprised by her news, but nonetheless had discussed what that meant for their relationship.

And now, here they were, in snowy Vermont. Snowy, secluded Vermont, in a very spacious, very empty ski lodge, for an entire weekend. There had been some sort of unspoken agreement between the couple as to what was going to happen once they got there.

Rory knew that she was finally ready to take that step with him. She had had reservations when they first started dating. The stories she heard from so many girls at Chilton really hadn't helped his case. Even though Tristan Dugrey was long gone, he was never too far from his former lovers' hearts, or the tales they told about various sexcapades in and out of the school.

But none of that mattered now. He had stuck by her, helping her during the trauma of leaving her mother for the first time, and had become a pillar of strength for her while adjusting to Yale. Slowly, he had let her see that there was more to him than the tight ass and an annoyingly sexy smirk that all those girls at Chilton had gossiped about in the bathroom between classes. Rory had fallen hard for him.

"Hungry?" Tristan broke through her reverie, heading over to the sub-zero again.

"You have no idea." Rory muttered, looking him up and down. He was gorgeous. There was absolutely no point in denying that. His body was perfect. Over the past few months, she had gotten to know every intimate inch.

She didn't think she could last much longer.

They had arrived very late last night, and they were too exhausted to do anything. It's not like anything had to be rushed. After all, they had waited six months, what was one more night?

"So, animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

Again, his voice brought her back to reality. "Excuse me?" She asked, not quite understanding the question.

"Oh, what was I thinking?" Tristan smirked, looking at her over his shoulder. "How could I ask you to subject yourself to eating something green?"

Rory feigned annoyance. "I like green just fine." She huffed, pretending to be upset with him. Tristan raised an eyebrow, showing Rory that he didn't believe her while he walked over to where she was standing. "I do! I like green jello, those little spearmint jelly leaves… oh! And thin mint cookies! Those are good too."

"Thin mints aren't green." He pointed out, moving to stand between her legs, which were dangling in front of her, like two swinging pendulums swaying back and forth in the most tantalizing of ways. Tristan had always been a sucker for a woman with a great set of stems, and Rory definitely fell into that category.

But it was more than that. Rory was so amazing, both inside and out. Every time she entered the room, he couldn't think of anything but her. She challenged him in ways that few ever had, mentally, physically and even though he tried to fight it, emotionally.

There weren't a lot of times in his life that he'd had to wait for something that he wanted. It was the way that things were, and he had never questioned his abilities to obtain the object of his desire, whether they were the latest sports car or the affections of the opposite sex.

But when it came to Rory, he was willing to wait. Because he knew, that in the end, all that waiting would be worth it. After all, he had waited nearly four years to finally have a chance with her. He had absolutely no intentions of losing her because of his impatience. He'd already done that in high school, and Tristan wasn't the type to make the same mistake twice.

That didn't mean that it wasn't hard. Sometimes it was more than hard. But no matter how frustrated he would get, Rory would do something, and he would know that it wasn't all for nothing.

It didn't even have to be anything sexual. It rarely was. Most of the time, all she had to do was smile at him, and all would be right in his world. Sappy, he knew, but then, being in love with a beautiful girl like Rory would make just about anyone turn into a sap.

"The box is green." Rory countered. "Plus, they taste green."

"What?" Tristan asked, confused. "How can something taste green?"

"Thin mints are minty."

"Uh huh…"

"Minty tastes green."

"Whatever you say," Tristan laughed heartily, handing her a mug of hot cocoa, complete with a whip cream tower floating on the surface of the warm drink. "Enjoy."

Rory took a sip, a low moan escaping her lips as the hot, chocolaty goodness slid down her throat. "Mmm. This is great. How did you come to be endowed with such great culinary abilities?"

"I'm a man of many talents." Tristan smirked, lightly tracing circles into her thigh with the tips of his fingers. "So, what do you want?" He asked, his low tone suggesting to her that his meaning surpassed food.

"Well," She breathed, setting her cup down on the counter beside her. "Anything with this chocolate would be a good start."

"I think I saw a bag of marshmallows in the pantry." Tristan said, leaning forward to brush his lips against her neck. "How about smores?"

"Chocolate and melty, fluffy sugar in between a cracker sprinkled with more sugar?" Rory grinned widely, her eyes sparkling with delight. "How can a girl resist?"

"Good." Tristan lifted her effortlessly from the counter, his hands lingering on her waist. "Why don't you go find the marshmallows and graham crackers and meet me in the den?"

"How come I have to do all the work?" Rory pouted, her hands on her hips. "I thought I was the guest."

"I'm sorry, did you want to go outside to get the firewood?" Tristan chuckled at the face she made at the thought of venturing out into the cold to face the possibility of splinters. "I assumed I was giving you the easy job, but if you want to switch…"

"No, thank you." Rory wrinkled her nose. She had no desire to lug gigantic pieces of wood around. If she had, Rory would have become a lumberjack, and forgone Yale entirely.

Tristan left the kitchen, and Rory grabbed the smores ingredients, along with a few skewers she found in a drawer, and headed in the direction she hoped would lead her to the den. Tristan had given her the ten-cent tour early that morning before they hit the slopes, but she still wasn't sure she was anywhere near where she needed to be.

Rory poked around, peeking into several rooms before finding the den. The room really couldn't be described as anything else. The furniture was covered in soft brown leather, and looked very comfortable. The wood paneling gave the room a rustic feel, along with the artwork, which included a very large, and more than likely, very real moose head.

The focal point of the room was without a doubt the stone fireplace, which took up nearly half of the wall it was located on. Sitting right in front of it was a bearskin rug. That was probably real too, she thought to herself, dropping the items she was holding onto the coffee table. Rory sunk into the comfort of the attractively worn couch. It looked old, but having met Tristan's mother, she felt it was safer to assume that the Dugreys had paid a lot of money to distress the leather, rather than let time do it for them.

"Comfortable?" Rory smiled when she heard his voice, glad she had ended up in the right place. He crossed the room to the immense fireplace, expertly stacking the wood and lighting kindling. Within moments there was a blazing fire before them, perfecting the rustic, elegant feel of the room.

Tristan sat back on the hearth, enjoying the warmth he had just created. His grandfather had taught him how to build a proper fire when he was ten, and no matter how many times he did it, the accomplishment still filled him with pride. He wasn't one for manual labor, but the art and science behind the construction made it enjoyable.

Plus, he knew that Rory would look sexy as hell in the firelight.

Rory sat down next to him and handed him a marshmallow already pierced by a skewer. She stuck her own in the fire, careful not to let it get too close to the flames. She never liked the burned ones very much. Lightly toasted to a golden brown was much more to her taste.

"Here." Tristan handed Rory his skewer and grabbed the chocolate and the graham crackers, setting up the rest of the sandwiches while Rory took over the task of toasting marshmallows. When he had finished the first round, Rory stuck his into the fire, igniting it for a second before blowing the flames out. Now his was blackened, just the way he liked it.

"Mmm." Rory groaned, biting into the gooey, melted mess. "Thif if mmafing." She said, her mouth full. "I don't care what Mom says. This Swiss crap is so much better than what those people at Hershey are peddling."

"I'm sure that my mother would love to hear you referring to her expensive imported chocolate as 'Swiss crap.'" Tristan laughed, wiping a bit of melted chocolate from the corner of her mouth.

"Ha ha." Rory rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

"Yes I do." Tristan looked at her, and bit into another smore. "Dugreys always have the best of everything. The best candy, the fastest cars, the most beautiful women…"

"I suppose that I can ignore the irritating possessiveness because of the beautiful comment," Rory joked, elbowing his side.

He laughed, and pulled her to him. "Good, because it's true." Tristan said, his voice near whisper. "You are so beautiful it hurts."

"Why thanks, Ben."

"What?" Tristan asked, a bit confused.

"You totally stole that line from Pearl Harbor." Rory rolled her eyes. "We watched it a few months ago when Mom found out that you had never seen it before, and forced you to sit through it."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Tristan pleaded. "As much as I love watching movies with you, when Lorelai is added to the mix, you two are just way too intense."

"Hey, go big or go home." Rory said simply, slipping her arms around his neck. "We are serious when it comes to mocking."

"Yeah, I know." Tristan frowned. "You've mocked me enough to let me know that you mean business."

"I told you that you couldn't schmooze Lorelai Gilmore."

"She told me that too." Tristan made a face, running his hands up and down her back absently. "Many times. Over and over."

"She doesn't let things go very easily." Rory told him, kissing his cheek. "Mom's still mad that Luke discontinued the key lime pie in '98."

"Wow." Tristan was oddly impressed with her willpower and ability to stay mad at the smallest, most insignificant thing. But he knew Lorelai, and he knew that it wasn't meant to be malicious, unlike a few of the feuds that still stood between the Dugreys and several other families in the Hartford area.

Rory smile fell, watching him slip into his thoughts. She guessed it was about his family, for they were usually behind his change in mood. While his grandfather, Janlen, was great, his parents… well, they left a lot to be desired. He didn't speak much of them, but what he didn't say said more than the few sentences he had uttered about the topic.

She could feel his thoughts dragging down the lighthearted feeling the day had brought, and desperately wanted to distract him. The last time they had talked about his family, it had turned into a huge argument, and they didn't speak for five days. Rory didn't want that to happen again.

"She does love you, you know." Rory smiled at him, running a hand over his short hair. Initially, when he had shaved off his golden locks, she had been upset, but it did suit him. Plus, it meant that she had more mirror time when she spent the night with him. Tristan was something of a primper, never leaving until he got his 'look' just right. Rory enjoyed teasing him about his obsession with perfection, even though she did appreciate the effort.

"I know."

"She wouldn't tease you if she didn't." Rory amended her statement after Tristan gave her a look. "Okay, she would, but she wouldn't be as nice about it."


"Plus," She lowered her voice, as if telling him a secret. "I love you." Rory kissed his nose playfully. "A lot."

"Well, guess what?" Tristan whispered back. Unconsciously, she leaned forward, inches from his face. "I love you too. A lot."

Rory's eyes sparkled, a wicked gleam visible in the blue depths. A gleam that he, and only he, had ever seen. That knowledge was an incredible turn on. Tristan closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Ironically, today had been more playful than sexual, more banter and teasing than kisses and caresses. He would have thought that it would be the other way around, since they were all alone in the middle of nowhere. Usually, he had to fight off the urge when they were at school, surrounded by people. Tristan used to dream of taking Rory away from it all. He would spend hours fantasizing about what he would do to her, and what she would look, feel and sound like. But now that he knew the reality of it, not one fantasy came close to this moment.

Rory sunk into the kiss, her nerves dissipating as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Tristan was the ultimate kisser. Every time his lips touched hers, she thought of nothing but the sensation.

She felt her body heat up as Tristan deepened the kiss even more, slowly building a fire in her that made the red-hot flames dancing only a few feet away from them seem ice cold. Rory's hands ran down his back, slipping beneath his shirt to stroke his skin.

The taut muscles of his back tensed with the contact of her slim fingers. Grasping the bottom of his fleece, Rory pulled the fabric over his head, once again thanking the static gods for the fact that his cotton tee shirt clung to the wintry cloth. She ran her hands up his now bare back, anticipating his next move.

Not to be outdone, Tristan quickly divested her of the pink sweater she had been wearing. His lips finally broke free from hers, kissing his way down her neck, lightly nipping at the skin of her collarbone. Rory hissed quietly, tightening her hold on him.

Her brain began to fog, and she couldn't think straight. The logical side of her was being short circuited, but Rory didn't mind. All she could think about was the way that her body molded perfectly into his, her soft curves matching the muscular lines of his frame.

How could she have ever been scared of him?

How could she have been nervous of this?

How in the world had she ever been able to deny the effect that he had on her?

The answers to all of those questions seemed meaningless as Tristan's hands traveled over her body, leaving her shivering with want. He really knew how to wind her up with a steady pace.

He took the opportunity to unhook her black lace bra, slowly stripping it away from her body. Rory's breasts, though small, were perfect. He palmed one, resuming his previous activity, making an agonizingly slow trail down her chest. Pulling one nipple into his mouth, Tristan scraped his nail over the other.

Rory gasped, arching up at the sensation. He was slowly driving her mad, and she knew that he had only begun. This was it. Nothing would stop them tonight. Not her mother, not Paris, who had interrupted more than one steamy interlude, and not her own insecurities and fears. She was ready for this, more than ready. Rory loved and trusted Tristan more than anyone she had ever been with. Neither of her ex boyfriends even came close to making her feel like Tristan did.

With trembling hands, Rory unbuckled his belt and pulled it free of the loops. Tristan had removed her jeans moments before, just before he pushed her onto her back. Rory's fingers toyed with the button for a moment, before unfastening it and slowly removed the denim from him.

Tristan's hands rubbed her thighs, coaxing them apart. Rory's breath hitched slightly when he slid down the length of her body, but she didn't put up a fight when he pulled her panties off.

Her breathing came to a halt the second his lips came in contact with her. Rory sighed as his tongue swept over her, but her sighs quickly turned into pants when he sucked her clit into his mouth. Tristan caressed her stomach with one hand, sliding one finger inside of her. She arched into him, and he added another finger, teasing her with the soft swipes of his tongue against her erect nub.

Tristan felt her body begin to quake, and knew she was close. It was too soon, however, and he pulled his mouth away from her. Rory moaned in disappointment when he left her hanging. It was unlike him to do so, especially when she was teetering so close to the brink.

Her mouth went dry when she saw him roll a condom on. Tristan positioned himself at her entrance, his eyes meeting hers, asking for approval. After all, this was one thing that she couldn't take back. There wasn't a do over for this.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" He asked. Slipping her arms around his neck, she kissed his lips, and nodded in assent.

"Ready Freddy," Rory joked, attempting humor despite the circumstances. She didn't exactly know what to do, or what to expect. All she knew was that she didn't want to wonder about it anymore, especially not with the way she felt for Tristan.

He lifted her hips, angling them slightly for an easier entry, and pushed his way into her. Rory buried her face in his neck at the initial intrusion, concentrating on the comforting, soothing words he was whispering into her ear instead of the sharp, stabbing pain.

A moment later, she pulled back, the soreness fading away. Tristan began to move within her, slow at first, but steadily building up their rhythm. Her body met his with every stroke, obviously knowing more than she gave herself credit for.

His thrusts came quicker, grinding down into her, the heat curling up inside of her once again. She had never felt like this before. Feeling him within her walls was indescribable, even for someone with an extensive vocabulary like the one she had.

Before long, the tension cracked, sending her over the edge, catching Tristan in her swirling climax, pushing him over as well, riding out the waves of her pleasure. Her breathing slowed, and she opened her eyes. Tristan looked down at her, pressing kisses into her lips before pulling out of her.

"Wow." Rory whispered, her body still humming. "That was…" She trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

Tristan smirked, obviously satisfied with his handiwork. After all, it took a lot to make a Gilmore Girl practically speechless. He yanked on a corner of the blanket that was lying on the arm of one of the couches, covering them both. Her form sunk into his as he pulled her to him. Exhausted and thoroughly sated, both fell into a blissful sleep.


Hours later, Rory awakened, only to find Tristan still asleep. She took him in, his skin aglow from the firelight. Her fingertips delicately traced the outline of his jaw, but she pulled away when he shifted in his sleep. She was awake, but she didn't want to disturb him. Plus, she had something she had to do. Leaning over him slightly, Rory pressed a kiss into his cheek, and wrapped another blanket around her, and left him to his slumber.

Her cell phone was still on the sideboard in the cavernous front hall where she had left it the night before. She scrolled down the list of names, immediately finding the right one.

"Land of Oz, Lorelai, Naughty Nymph of the North speaking!"

"Hey Mom."

"Rory! Are you okay? Did Satan break you?" Lorelai asked quickly, worried that Rory was calling from a hospital with her neck in a brace and her leg in a cast. "Because if he did, I'll-,"

"I'm fine, Mom." Rory assured her, putting her mind at rest. More than fine, Rory thought, smiling to herself.

"Good, because he better return you in the exact condition that I loaned you out in, or he's not going to get his deposit back!"

"Actually Mom, that might not be possible." Rory's smile grew wider, and she settled herself into one of the comfortable armchairs sitting only a few feet away, readying herself for the long talk about the events that had just transpired.