I do not own any of the characters mentioned in the story. This is purely fiction and in no way is meant to infringe on those entitled to copywright entitlements.

Chapter 1: Early Morning Surprises

There were mornings when Rory awoke thinking that life couldn't get much better; after all she was 24, living in a great apartment in Washington D.C., had the job of her dreams, and well what more could she ask for? Then there were days, like today, when all she wanted to do was hit the snooze button and crawl under the covers for the next five years. It was Monday morning- if you could call 5:30 am morning- how could it be morning if the sun hadn't even risen- and she had to be at work in an hour.

But being Rory, she found herself dragging her tired body out of bed and stumbling towards the shower. As the first blast of hot water hit her in the face, her brain started functioning, and after the first few moments of it shouting at her for not fueling up on high-octane caffeine right away, it started to plan out the busy day ahead. There was a full staff meeting at 8, a conference call with her source over at the White House at 11, an interview with the French ambassador at noon, a meeting with her editor at 2 and between these obligations she had three major deadlines for her articles, and research to complete for her next story.

After finishing her shower, she made her way towards the small studio kitchen to make her first pot of coffee. A loud banging on the door startled her enough to cause her to spill the dark roast coffee grinds all over the counter. Taking a quick glance at the clock on the microwave- it read 5:51 am, Rory figured it could only be one person.

"Paris, I told you already that unless you had some desperate emergency- and when I say emergency I mean an event that either involves one if not all of the following words: blood, death, hospital, scoop of the century that you were not to show up at my apartment before 7 am!" Rory shouted stomping her way towards the door of her apartment.

"Gilmore, why should it matter? You're up, I'm up and well, what I have to say is always important," Paris Geller demanded shoving past her friend in the impatient manner that just had Rory sighing in acceptance. The two women had been enemies, competitors, roommates, co-workers, and in the end the best of friends. And yet every now and then it amazed Rory how the two had become so close.

"Where's the coffee, Rory?" Paris asked walking into the kitchen. She couldn't understand how Rory could live in such a small place. It wasn't as if the girl couldn't afford at least a two bedroom. But for some reason, Rory insisted that the small studio apartment was perfect- it was cozy, comfortable, and didn't take a lot to clean. Paris knew that this was really a cover for the fact that if Rory lived in a bigger place she'd be lonely and missing home in a heartbeat.

It never ceased to baffle Paris, how someone could be so connected to family. Paris's mother and father were cordial and polite, but they'd never felt this constant need to be in touch with one another. Where Rory didn't, hell couldn't, go a day without checking back in with her mom. And vice versa. Then again, Rory's family was quite exceptional- Lorelei was like no other mom she'd ever met and her step-dad Luke was a rough around the edges guy who would do just about anything for Rory.

"I was just making some when some rude miscreant decided that they couldn't wait an hour to see my charming face," Rory snapped thinking that if she didn't get some coffee into her soon she would end up hurting someone. That someone was standing three feet in front of her giving her a look that suggested Rory merely should have anticipated her arrival and had coffee waiting.

"Well chop chop Gilmore, we don't want to be late today, I know the staff meeting isn't until 8, but I figured we'd get a jump on that research for the Ambassador Carlson interview we're going to be doing next week," Paris stated wondering away from the kitchen and towards Rory's bedroom. She didn't like the camel colored jacket she had on and figured Rory would have something she could borrow.

"Paris what are you doing?" Rory shouted as she finished putting the coffee on. The two had been working at the Washington Tribune for a year and this early morning repartee was becoming frighteningly familiar.

"I just realized that this jacket makes me look like some frumpy librarian, and it won't do for my meeting with Delaney's assistant this afternoon," Paris replied trying to make sense of the disaster area that was Rory's closet.

"You really need to get this mess organized Rory, how can you find anything in here?" Paris asked choosing a powder blue fitted jacket that she had seen Rory buy the week before.

"I know where everything is- hey I haven't even worn that yet!" Rory exclaimed coming into the room while attempting to negotiate the many piles of books, newspapers, and other various items strewn about.

"It'll look better on me anyway," Paris answered grinning as she grabbed her purse from Rory's bed.

"You better have that back to me by next week, I was planning on wearing that to the Carlson interview. And since when did you manage to get a meet with Senator Delaney's second in command? I've been trying for the past week and a half and have gotten nowhere.

"Well, it helps when you've known the guy since you were toddlers," Paris replied taking one last look in the mirror.

"What? How come you didn't tell me this earlier?" Rory asked following Paris back out into the living room. Damn Paris and her blue blood connections.

"Rory, I'm surprised you didn't do more research into who Senator Delaney's assistant is. Does the name Tristan DuGrey ring a bell?" Paris questioned stopping to see her friend's reaction. Oh she knew that high school had been nearly a decade ago, but she'd bet her extremely large trust fund that Rory hadn't forgotten Tristan. And based on the look of pure disbelief that was plastered on Rory's pretty features, she'd have won that bet. Sometimes it was such a pleasure to throw Gilmore for a loop.