Summary: What happens when Rory gets the chance of a lifetime to cover a story in Africa at a relief camp...and it just so happens that Tristain Dugrey is a cocky, but sarcastic 24 year old, who happens to own the camp/work for the UN! See what happens...READ PLEASE!

Disclaimer: First off, I do not own any of the charcaters in this story, but I do however own certain parts of the plot.

Beware, this is my first Fanfic, so bear with me:) Hopefully it's not like really terrible or anything. I'm open to any reviews you'd like to give, so please do so. That way I know whether or not I should continue this story or not.

I love, love, love Gilmore Girls!

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My Life as the unfortunate traveler

I cannot even discern where to begin. It's been so long since I've settled down in front of a notebook and pressed the faded-ink pen to these dingy sheets of paper. My story has no beginning or end. It will always haunt me no matter where I go and will leave traces of my shadow on every path that I shall come across. To call my life a story is an exaggeration of its own kind. To create a story, you must know all the facts… facts in which I am still trying to divulge. However, if I do not follow through with the act of writing this all down, the world shall never know of a tale or more so, a life that once existed. Maybe the world could one day accept the audacious, daring and incomprehensible secrets that our adventure was based on. But then again, that's just wishful thinking. I'm almost sure that it is impossible to bring to the world a claim without explanation. A claim in which led the others and I to run in order to escape disaster. We not only ran for our lives, but for all the others who had not yet been informed of the secrets that had been hidden from them, like a treasure buried in the sand; secrets that caused the loss of a nation and the determination of a whole team. Unfortunately, I am the only one left from expedition "Johan", and just as the others would have done, I am telling the world of our adventure in the chance of spreading a message, spreading the truth; but most of all… to let the very person that started this whole thing free. And so, the story begins…

The old worn out clock rang nine times, like it had always rung for the past eleven years of my life. Ever since I was young, I could remember that clock ringing over and over, night and day in my head. Each sound symbolizing to get up, go to school, change classes, eat lunch, dismissal from school, tea time, dinner time, and bed time. It was done everyday and I obeyed it everyday of my life; like an obedient puppy that knows no wrong and will only follow what is believed to be good and right by English standards. I moved to live with my grandparents in England when I was only ten, after my mother, Lorelai, died in a car accident. My grandparents thought it would be barbaric to just drop me off with a father who was hardly ever around, so we moved from Connecticut to England. My grandmother and grandfather had been to London numerous times and met under the clock known as "Big Ben", when they were young lovers. I never put two and two together as of why they got to together, or how remotely odd it was that my grandmother (quite an attractive women) would be in the slightest bit interested in my grandfather (a rather large, passive old fellow). My grandfather loved to sit next to a cozy fire and edit upcoming novels, as he murmured to himself in a kind of a humming sound. He loved this hobby so much, that by the time I was twelve, editing books had become his part-time profession. But on warm breezy days, when my grandmother was off chatting at someone's house for tea, my grandfather would unwillingly retire from his recliner and go down to the green with a couple of his friends to play golf. I could remember now, sitting on the bench after school watching him hold the club with a firm grip, fooling all of his friends into thinking he was actually good. But the final outcome of his shot always proved other wise. Aside from my grandfather, my grandmother was the out-going and extremely social type in the family. She was usually the grandmother behind all the school fundraisers, baby showers, bake sales, and even the women's relief groups. But behind all of her assumed perfection was a tired and frightened woman. Her age showed better on some days than others depending on the weather outside, the time in which she got up, and what meeting she had scheduled for that day. Together they were like mustard and jelly, but in some way, my existence balanced out the strangeness of the marriage.

The wind blew over the leafless trees, which provided a barrier between the town square and the main roads. I couldn't help but glance down at my watch to check if the time on my watch was the same as time on the clock tower.

"Mamme, do you realize that it's nine o' clock at night? Aren't you going to be heading home now? You've been sitting out here in the chilly air for hours." Startled, I turned around to find a pudgy man with round shaped glasses and a thick brown mustache peering down on me.

"Oh, yes. I was just about to leave." I got up and buttoned up my coat, as I threw my scarf around my slender neck and walked away from the man. I marched briskly towards the sidewalks, as the illuminating light from the lamp post blinded my eyes. Snow began to gently sprinkle onto my long hazelnut colored hair, as the smooth creamy locks soon turned into a wet mat. Every time I breathed in big gasps of cold air, my throat began to burn causing me to cough uncontrollably. Cars lined the curves of the street and up along the alleys where homeless people creped around like cats prowling in the night.

Walking faster and faster, I finally reached the entrance to my building. Once I had taken out the keys and turned the lock to open the door, I slipped my pale hand out from the cuff of my coat and pulled the icy cold handle to disengage the door. The dim lighting immediately flooded into view, as the aroma of fresh baked bread danced beneath my nose. Stumbling over to the stairs, I pulled with all my weight up the steps to my floor. I couldn't help but wonder why I took refuge in the town square out of all the other places in London. I guess it reminded me of past memories as a child. As I opened the door to my flat, Janet's cat, Minis, leaped through my parted feet and out through the doorway. All that was visible of the wooly cat, as it scrabbled down the hall was its smoky colored tail in which pointed straight up in the air. As I stepped through the doorway, my knees began to feel weak and my vision blurry.

"And so she returns…" a hoarse voice called as the familiar unshaven face came into view. My roommate Jesse, dragged down the hall like a snail, as he put his arms over his stately head to stretch. His muscular body showed through the under shirt that he wore quite often to bed. His soft brown hair came partly down into his dark brown eyes, as a smile wiped onto his face. He had rose colored cheeks, which accented his olive skin and dark eyebrows. I dropped my coat and scarf on the sofa, as I plopped down to lean against one of the throw-pillows. I could hear his heavy footsteps coming towards me, as a warm, roughened hand pressed against my forehead.

"You're getting that darn fever again! Maybe you should go to the doctor this time. Last time you had a fever, you gave Janet and I a scare with the constant rising of your temperature." I opened my eyes slowly to find him sitting close enough to feel the heat sweltering off of him. He rubbed his enormously charming eyes and covered his mouth to yawn.

"Really, I'm fine. All I need is a good night's rest and this whole sickness thing will pass over." I tried to pull my weight up from the couch, but found myself staggering back down to it again.

"Careful now," Jesse whispered whole-heartedly. Gently catching my arm, Jesse used his hand to slowly bring me back down to a sitting position. "Oh yah; just fine," Jesse mocked, as he got up and moved my coat to the armchair near the fireplace. Frightened by my sudden loss of feeling in my legs, I tilted my head back against the pillows and closed my eyes. A throbbing pain began to develop over them, which felt more like a bullet to the forehead then anything else. Jesse paced back over to the olive colored couch and tapped me lightly on the side of my arm. Immediately, I opened my eyes as Jesse's glowing face appeared in front of my gaze.

"I think you should sleep on the couch tonight, since you'd feel more comfortable here anyways." Jesse helped me to prop up my feet. He then ran and got the tan comforter to cover my shivering body with.

"Your forehead is hot, but the rest of your body is freezing! Where have you been?" Jesse looked apprehensively down at my face, as he brushed away my long strands of hair from the sides of my cheeks.

"I was just outside today at the town square" I muttered, as I knocked his gentle fingers away from my cheek.

"You should really look after yourself more often, you know? Being outside on a day like this when you know you get sick easily…that's not the smartest thing to do."

"Alright, I get it!" I could feel my cheeks begin to burn, as aggravation swept over me.

"I don't mean to be a bother…it's just that, I care what happens to you." My attention from the floor rose up to Jesse's face, as embarrassment flashed into his eyes.

"Jesse…" My voice trailed off, as I directed my gaze up at the ceiling. Silence followed for what seemed like a lifetime. I could still feel his intense gaze on me as he lightly brushed my arm, burning the surface of my skin. I sighed loudly trying to control the thoughts that filtered into my mind, but couldn't contain it any more. I placed my hand on top of his shoulder, pulling him down towards me; his lips willing accepting the invitation. What are you doing? I thought to myself, as I felt his lips lustfully kiss my chapped ones. Moans found their way up and out of my mouth, as Jesse's hand moved from the small of my back to underneath the lining of my shirt. The weight of Jesse's body was to much for me to handle, as I tried scootting upward, releasing the pressure. Arching my back upward to push myself from under him, I accidentally thrusted myself against him. His hands gripped tighter around my waist, taking this as a sign of what he thought was yet to come.

Suddenly, a light came flooding in through the doorway, breaking up the dim atmosphere of the room. It was my other roommate Janet. Her short black hair fell at the sides of her shoulders, as her shocked expression seized every muscle in her face. Silence proceeded for another minute, until Jesse boldly chose to speak up.

"So Janet, what are you doing back so soon?" Janet and I both looked astonished at the way Jesse tried to handle the situation. I became even more discomfited in front of my life-long friend, as her gawk continued to pierce through Jesse and I, like flaming arrows.

"Do I even want to know why I saw you two on top of each other, making out?" Jesse looked half-heartedly at me, almost as if to say "Please speak up so I don't have to."

"Janet…I can't think of anything right now that you'd except as a good enough answer, but I'll get back to you when I do." My voice quivered as I said the bold statement. Jesse got up and proceeded to the nearest exit, as Janet stuck her hand out to stop him.

"Why don't we discuss this now?" She gave an unpleasant, fake smile and pushed Jesse back to his seat.

"Is it a crime, if I might have feelings for Rory?" Jesse carped as he got back up again.

"Yes! It is a crime when that person is living with you! Look, I don't know what they taught you at that boarding school of yours, but I thought it was pretty clear when we agreed that there would be no relationships between us."

"And why not?" Jesse protested.

"Because things like this happen and everyone gets affected. I get uncomfortable, you get uncomfortable, she gets uncomfortable; for gosh sakes, everyone gets uncomfortable and the whole thing turns into a big mess! Pretty soon we'll all be at each others throats, singing La La, off key! And nobody wants that. Not as long as I'm living here, will there ever be a mariachi band in tights and screaming toddlers! Got that!" Janet lowered her finger from Jesse's face and picked up the grocery bags again. Jesse and I both stared bewilderingly at Janet, as she continued to ramble on about senseless jumble.

"Rory, can you help me with these in the kitchen?" I obediently got up and followed behind Janet. As I looked back at Jesse sitting on the table, I could still see a flicker of rebellion in his eyes.

"Janet, Rory's sick again. I'll help you in the kitchen, while she tries to get some rest, alright?" Jesse got up and tottered into the cramped kitchen, with its shallow sink and Formica counter tops. Janet looked up from behind the center island and quickly glanced at me.

"Why didn't you tell me, you were sick again?" Janet marched over to me and gave me a hug. "I'll make you some tea, okay? You just go lie down and get better." Janet watched compassionately after me, as she filled the tea kettle with water. I could hear Jesse and Janet quietly bickering in the kitchen, as I fell onto the couch limply.

"You made-out with her and probably would have gone further, knowing she was sick?" Janet muttered in a low voice. I could hear Jesse defending him self and setting a whole bunch of baloney on the table, to make himself look like the good guy. Deep down inside, I felt nothing more than a friend-type relationship for Jesse. To me, he was a benefit and an occasional user when you wanted it. I often thought it was selfish, but I soon realized after about the third time, that Jesse felt the exact same way. So no longer did I feel self-centered, but more so, ashamed of my insecurity. A normal, self-confident person would have done the opposite. But I have flaws that I will not patch, and will only shield them from the ones I love. For they are the one's, who should never know of all things that go on in my head and the habits that inflict the most pain.