Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for the computer that I'm typing this on, and that's the important part.

A/N: Another new fic! I know that everybody is jumping up and down with joy. Just to let anybody who read A Trip to Remember know- the sequel, if it happens, will be extremely cliché. I can guarantee it. But if you just love the way I write, then get your butts over to A Trip to Remember and review for it! I hope you like the new story, and don't forget to review! Oh, one more thing. I started a forum. I like them, and if you would please check it out. Its called "Wanna Talk Gilmore?".

Tristan and Rory: A Shakespearean Tragedy?

Chapter 1

"How's a project sound?" Mr. Jones asked rhetorically, staring out at his class. Needless to say, his suggestion was met with a mix of groans, moans, and mumbled complaints. "Now what kind of spirit is that? Don't you guys want to know what the project is before you voice your complaints?

"No offense Mr. Jones, but the word project in itself is offensive." Said a tentative student from the back.

"Which is a big fatno." Tristan whispered to his gang of slackers in the back.

'Classic Tristan,' Rory thought with a grimace. He was such a nuisance. Why wouldn't he just go away?

"Well, I'm sorry to say that no matter how much you complain, you have to do this project, or you fail my class. Now, would you like to know the details of this project?" You could've heard a pin drop. "That's better, I guess. I would be thrilled if I heard a 'whoop' of joy, but silence is a start. You will all be in pairs." Mr. Jones continued, as he walked up and down the rows of desks handing out a packet of papers. "This is your guide. You and your partner will pick three items off of this list, and complete them. What's the topic, you ask."

"What's the topic?" The student from the back asked, playing along.

"Well, the topic is- drum roll please," a few students began beating on the desks. "The topic is… do you really want to know?"

The majority of the class yelled, "YES!" Mr. Jones had a way of getting to them, just right, so that they would actually anticipate assignments.

"The topic is Shakespeare."

Even though the class was so excited to find out, the excitement ended with an audible fizzle as they heard the name "Shakespeare".

"You gotta be kidding us, Mr. J." Someone moaned from the other side of the classroom.

"No, Jill, I'm not kidding. This is your assignment."

"But this isn't even English! It's History for Pete's Sake!" Someone else yelled.

"Yes, I am fully aware that I am teaching a Junior World History Class this term, Mr. London. However, Shakespeare is history."

"You can say that again." Tristan mumbled, barely audible to those around him.

"Did you say something, Mr. Dugrey?"

"No, sir." Tristan said applying an extremely innocent tone to his voice.

'At least he knows when to keep his mouth shut.' Rory thought, having heard the entire situation go down.

"Okay, now it's time to get into your groups. Keep your butt in that seat, Mr. Cinder. You don't get to pick your own groups. Please feel free to moan now; we wouldn't want you to strain something by holding them in."

Almost the entire class let out a moan at that instant, and a sigh to go along with it, just to show Mr. Jones what a struggle it was to hold them back.

"Okay, now, I'm going to go across the rows and give you your partners."

As Mr. Jones walked up down the rows assigning partners, Rory couldn't help but think, 'please, anybody but Paris, anyone but Paris.'

"Miss Gilmore, I'll partner you with… Mr. Dugrey. Maybe you'll rub off on him a little. We can all hope."

Rory slowly closed her eyes, and lowered her head onto the desk. 'I didn't even think of him!' She thought.

"So Mary, I guess we're working together. How interesting that Mr. Jones would put us together. Since we have a history and all."

"Shut up Tristan. We're going to do this project, and then we're never going to speak to each other again."

"Think what you want Mary, but I don't think that you could stay away from me for that long."

"Trust me, if I was to never see, hear, or speak to you again, it would be too soon."

"Mary, I'm hurt."

"Tristan."

"Yes Mary?"

"Shut up." Rory then put her head back on the desk and blocked out all sounds, except for the bell, which didn't seem like it would ever come.

It was the end of the day, and Rory was getting her books out of her locker. She didn't even notice that someone was behind her until a fist hit the locker on her right. "What the-!" She yelled as she looked up into the piercingly blue eyes above her.

"Did I scare you, Mary?"

"No."

"Then you yell 'what the' on a daily basis."

"Yes, it's therapeutic."

"Okay, so are we meeting at your house or mine?"

"Didn't think that you would care, don't you do it everywhere?"

"Did you just rhyme, and insinuate something at the same time, Mary? Bravo!" Tristan mocked excitement, and clapped.

"I was just trying to play your game. We'll meet at my house, it's safer. If I need someone's help all I have to do is scream."

"The only reason I can see you screaming is, well…"

"Don't finish that statement or I will find Lorena Bobbitt, and well…"

"How do I get to your house?"

"Not so good at segway, are we? Just hop on the highway and go south until you pass a sign that says Welcome to Stars Hollow. Then follow the roads, and eventually an old man, wearing a sweater vest will come up to you, and ask why you're driving around, then you can ask him how to get to my house. He'll send a talk, thin man to direct you towards our house. The man may or may not try to sell you something. Then you'll drive behind him at an unbelievably slow pace until you finally reach my house. Be there by five. You'll need to leave now, or you'll be late. See you later Tristan." Rory turned and walked away.

'She must've made that all up.'

Tristan entered Stars' Hollow around four. He drove around for about fifteen minutes before Taylor walked up to his car and asked "Excuse me young man, but what do you think you're doing driving around town like this? Furthermore, who are you?"

'Oh my God.' Tristan thought.

"Right on time." Rory said as she finished picking her books off of the table, but leaving a copy of Romeo and Juliet, a Shakespearean biography, and a book on Old England.

"You paid off the old guy in the sweater vest, and the skinny dude on the bike didn't you?"

"Kirk and Taylor? No way. But I've lived with them for my entire life. You start to understand people that way."

"So you didn't pay them off?"

"Not a cent."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care. You want to get started?"

"Yeah, we can get started." Tristan raised an eyebrow and began to slowly move towards Rory.

"TRISTAN! You ass. The project. God, you're such a-a-a…"

"Wow, calm down Mary. It was just a joke."

"Oh, don't even start with me Dugrey. If-if-if…"

"If Bagboy were here?"

"Shut up! God, why are you such an ass?"

"Wow Mare, I didn't even think that you new vulgar words."

"Vulgar words are for vulgar people, and I could call you a… You know what, I'm going to go into my room. You are going to stay out here. I'm going to count to ten, and hope that I can forget this little incident for my grades sake. And you are going to sit here, and hope that I don't come out here with a pen, and go Lizzie Borden on your ass."

"Gotcha." Tristan rolled his eyes, and sat down at the kitchen table.

Rory walked into her room and began to count slowly, drawing in deep breaths. She lay down on her bed, and closed her eyes. 'Maybe if I close my eyes I'll forget about it.' She thought. "1, 2, 3; 4; 5. 6. 7… 8… ni…"

"Fair Juliet, why art thou resting in the dark and not at thy manor?"

'What did he just call me?'

A/N: Okay, now if you would please direct your attention to the beautiful periwinkle button. Click, type what you thought of the fic, and then procede to the forum button on the top of you page. Go to the Gilmore Girls forum page, and look for the forum "Wanna talk Gilmore?" and procede to mingle as you please. You guys are the best!