A/N: A completely different story than my previous fic. Think I can write serious? Let's give it a shot...
Rory Gilmore stared intently at the email in front of her. This was unbelievable. She could quite possibly blow the whistle on one of the most notorious drug dealers in Philadelphia. Someone had emailed her a heads up. But who? The email address was unfamiliar, and the favors she had called in to have the address traced had yielded nothing. She had been agonizing for almost an hour-was the tip legitimate? Once she had firmly decided that it indeed was, she was still unsure. She was hesitant about putting herself into such a dangerous situation for her work. Though she loved her work, she didn't love it enough to put herself in mortal danger. On the other hand, this was a prime opportunity. She was already the top reporter at the Philadelphia Daily News. With a little more recognition, she could possibly make the jump to her dream job, which would take her back to Hartford. Rory made up her mind to go to the designated location outlined in the email. She would stay out of sight and be extremely cautious. What could possibly go wrong?
***
After graduating from Harvard University with a degree in Journalism, Rory got a great offer from a prestigious paper in Philadelphia. So she packed her bags and made the move. In the four years that she had worked there, she had efficiently worked her way up the ladder to one of the most envied positions available. She was a consummate and dedicated professional; she loved her work. Her articles frequently graced the front page and Rory herself had garnered much recognition among the City of Brotherly Love. But she was lonely. She missed her family and her friends in Hartford. Being the workaholic that the job required didn't leave a lot of time to form close bonds with other people. Her goal was to be in a position to negotiate the move back to Hartford. So that's why she put her faith into a tip that fateful Friday night.
***
Rory was smart. She knew the area of Philadelphia she was being sent to and realized that certain people would not be looked at twice. So that Friday night found Rory Gilmore dressed as a bag lady, with a hidden camcorder securely buried beneath a pile of rags. She pushed a shopping cart leisurely down Broad Street, pretending to pick up more items from random trash cans. She didn't have to wait long.
An expensive car, very out of place for the location, pulled up to the sidewalk ten feet in front of where Rory stood with her shopping cart. A man, the infamous Joey Mendoza, stepped out of the limo. He disappeared inside an apartment building after conferring with the driver. The car pulled away from the side of the curb.
After she was positive that the car was out of sight, Rory climbed on top of a dumpster to peer through a window. She saw Mendoza accepting money from an unidentified man. She pulled a camera out of her pocket and quickly snapped a couple shots. Neither man noticed. They appeared to be arguing about something. The unidentified man shakily reached into his pocket and pulled a gun on Mendoza. Mendoza seemed almost amused. He spoke to the other man, who unsteadily lowered the gun. The man slowly turned his back, ready to walk through the door. Rory watched in horror as Mendoza reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. The man whipped around just in time for his face to register shock as the bullets ripped bloody holes into his body. Mendoza left the body and calmly walked towards the door.
Rory looked around her, desperately searching for a place to hide. She dove into the dumpster she was standing on and tried to control her panic. Her breaths were coming in short uneven spurts. Her hands shook. She clenched them together, trying to stop the shakes. A few minutes later, she heard a car stop at the curb.
"The threat has been eliminated," Mendoza reported to the occupant of the car.
"Excellent work," came the voice from the car. The car door opened then slammed closed again. The car sped away down the street.
Rory huddled in the dumpster, too frightened to move. What if they weren't gone? After half an hour, she heard no noises. She poked her head over the edge of the dumpster and studied her surroundings. No one in sight. She hopped out of the dumpster and ran unsteadily toward the shopping cart she had abandoned. After sifting through the garbage, she retrieved her cell phone and the camcorder. She hurriedly dialed 911 and described the situation. Then she ran back into apartment building. She cautiously approached the man on the floor. There was blood everywhere. She probed the man's throat, searching for the spot where his pulse should be. She found nothing. She sank to her knees, staring at the dead man in front of her.
That was how the police found her. Sitting despondently on the floor, covered in blood. After the paramedics treated her for shock, they took her into the station. After viewing the camcorder and camera found at the scene, they quickly cleared Rory of any wrong doing and instead tried to gauge what she knew about the situation. Rory told them about the tip she had received. She described the expensive car and Joey Mendoza. At the mention of Mendoza, the police realized that something was going on. This was no random homicide. So they called in the FBI, who had jurisdiction over the case. And that was how Tristin Dugrey came into the picture.
***
Tristin Dugrey walked into the police station in Philadelphia a few hours later. He had flown in straight from DC when his superiors had informed him of a break in the case he had been laboring over for nearly a year. He had been carefully building up a case against one of the biggest drug dealers in Philadelphia. And now, he finally had a lead. An eyewitness, who could testify against Joey Mendoza, who would in turn rat out his boss. This case was finally coming to a head.
***
Tristin Dugrey had been recruited out of college into the FBI training program at Quantico. He had been immersed in his study of Criminal Law at Yale University when suddenly, his life took a different track. He completed his training in just a little under 3 years, a feat unheard of. He quickly made a name for himself in the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He had an obscenely high solve rate, due to his powerful investigative skills and extreme determination. He had little time for relationships, especially after having his heart broken in high school. His superiors had entrusted him with this very high profile case. Now he could solve it, and maybe get a transfer to the field office back in Hartford. He wanted nothing more than to get away from DC and back home.
***
"Is she in there?" he asked the police officer standing in the hallway.
"Yeah, she's a little shaken up. Take it easy on her, Agent Dugrey."
"Of course."
Tristin walked into the interrogation room, and nearly had a heart attack. Rory Gilmore. My God.
***
Rory looked up in alarm when the door unexpectedly opened again. Then she cursed herself for being so jumpy when she saw the FBI Agent that the police had informed her was coming. Then she took in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the confident manner in which he held himself. She stared in amazement. Tristin Dugrey had become an FBI Agent?
Tristin found his voice first. "Rory? What are you doing here?"
Rory looked him straight in the eye. "I kind of witnessed a murder, in case you hadn't heard."
Tristin shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "I mean, I know that, but what are you doing in Philadelphia? And what the HELL do you think you're doing putting yourself in jeopardy like that?" He was beginning to get angry.
"My job," Rory stated flatly.
"You could have gotten killed!"
"And you could easily get killed in your line of work. We all do what we have to do."
"I don't believe this. This is crazy. You are the last person I ever expected..."
"Well, what happens now?" All Rory wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed...maybe call her mother and hear her comforting voice.
"Well, you've agreed to testify against Joey Mendoza, correct?"
Rory nodded her head.
"We've got to put you in protective custody until the trial."
"WHAT!"
"Rory, the media is all over this. This is a high profile case. You're in danger. Once Mendoza's boss finds out your identity, and believe me he will, he will do whatever it takes to get you out of the way. We've got to make sure you're safe. Your safety comes above everything else."
Rory buried her face in her hands. "I don't believe this is happening."
"I'll go make the proper arrangements. Sit tight, okay?" Tristin gave her a reassuring smile before turning and walking out the door.
***
"I understand sir...yes, sir...I will make sure of it. Thank you, sir." Tristin hung up his cell phone and leaned against the wall. His superior had agreed to let Tristin take on the task of ensuring Rory's safety. After hearing of their past history, his boss had been concerned that Tristin would allow his personal feelings to get the better of his judgment. But Tristin had done some fast talking and made some good points-mainly, that Rory would feel safer with someone she knows. His boss had finally agreed. So now all he had to do was break it to Rory.
***
"So wait a minute, YOU'RE going to stay with me?"
"Technically, we'll be going to a different location, but yes. I will be with you." He waited for the yelling to begin. And was surprised.
"Thank God," Rory breathed.
Tristin relaxed a little. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised.
Rory Gilmore stared intently at the email in front of her. This was unbelievable. She could quite possibly blow the whistle on one of the most notorious drug dealers in Philadelphia. Someone had emailed her a heads up. But who? The email address was unfamiliar, and the favors she had called in to have the address traced had yielded nothing. She had been agonizing for almost an hour-was the tip legitimate? Once she had firmly decided that it indeed was, she was still unsure. She was hesitant about putting herself into such a dangerous situation for her work. Though she loved her work, she didn't love it enough to put herself in mortal danger. On the other hand, this was a prime opportunity. She was already the top reporter at the Philadelphia Daily News. With a little more recognition, she could possibly make the jump to her dream job, which would take her back to Hartford. Rory made up her mind to go to the designated location outlined in the email. She would stay out of sight and be extremely cautious. What could possibly go wrong?
***
After graduating from Harvard University with a degree in Journalism, Rory got a great offer from a prestigious paper in Philadelphia. So she packed her bags and made the move. In the four years that she had worked there, she had efficiently worked her way up the ladder to one of the most envied positions available. She was a consummate and dedicated professional; she loved her work. Her articles frequently graced the front page and Rory herself had garnered much recognition among the City of Brotherly Love. But she was lonely. She missed her family and her friends in Hartford. Being the workaholic that the job required didn't leave a lot of time to form close bonds with other people. Her goal was to be in a position to negotiate the move back to Hartford. So that's why she put her faith into a tip that fateful Friday night.
***
Rory was smart. She knew the area of Philadelphia she was being sent to and realized that certain people would not be looked at twice. So that Friday night found Rory Gilmore dressed as a bag lady, with a hidden camcorder securely buried beneath a pile of rags. She pushed a shopping cart leisurely down Broad Street, pretending to pick up more items from random trash cans. She didn't have to wait long.
An expensive car, very out of place for the location, pulled up to the sidewalk ten feet in front of where Rory stood with her shopping cart. A man, the infamous Joey Mendoza, stepped out of the limo. He disappeared inside an apartment building after conferring with the driver. The car pulled away from the side of the curb.
After she was positive that the car was out of sight, Rory climbed on top of a dumpster to peer through a window. She saw Mendoza accepting money from an unidentified man. She pulled a camera out of her pocket and quickly snapped a couple shots. Neither man noticed. They appeared to be arguing about something. The unidentified man shakily reached into his pocket and pulled a gun on Mendoza. Mendoza seemed almost amused. He spoke to the other man, who unsteadily lowered the gun. The man slowly turned his back, ready to walk through the door. Rory watched in horror as Mendoza reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. The man whipped around just in time for his face to register shock as the bullets ripped bloody holes into his body. Mendoza left the body and calmly walked towards the door.
Rory looked around her, desperately searching for a place to hide. She dove into the dumpster she was standing on and tried to control her panic. Her breaths were coming in short uneven spurts. Her hands shook. She clenched them together, trying to stop the shakes. A few minutes later, she heard a car stop at the curb.
"The threat has been eliminated," Mendoza reported to the occupant of the car.
"Excellent work," came the voice from the car. The car door opened then slammed closed again. The car sped away down the street.
Rory huddled in the dumpster, too frightened to move. What if they weren't gone? After half an hour, she heard no noises. She poked her head over the edge of the dumpster and studied her surroundings. No one in sight. She hopped out of the dumpster and ran unsteadily toward the shopping cart she had abandoned. After sifting through the garbage, she retrieved her cell phone and the camcorder. She hurriedly dialed 911 and described the situation. Then she ran back into apartment building. She cautiously approached the man on the floor. There was blood everywhere. She probed the man's throat, searching for the spot where his pulse should be. She found nothing. She sank to her knees, staring at the dead man in front of her.
That was how the police found her. Sitting despondently on the floor, covered in blood. After the paramedics treated her for shock, they took her into the station. After viewing the camcorder and camera found at the scene, they quickly cleared Rory of any wrong doing and instead tried to gauge what she knew about the situation. Rory told them about the tip she had received. She described the expensive car and Joey Mendoza. At the mention of Mendoza, the police realized that something was going on. This was no random homicide. So they called in the FBI, who had jurisdiction over the case. And that was how Tristin Dugrey came into the picture.
***
Tristin Dugrey walked into the police station in Philadelphia a few hours later. He had flown in straight from DC when his superiors had informed him of a break in the case he had been laboring over for nearly a year. He had been carefully building up a case against one of the biggest drug dealers in Philadelphia. And now, he finally had a lead. An eyewitness, who could testify against Joey Mendoza, who would in turn rat out his boss. This case was finally coming to a head.
***
Tristin Dugrey had been recruited out of college into the FBI training program at Quantico. He had been immersed in his study of Criminal Law at Yale University when suddenly, his life took a different track. He completed his training in just a little under 3 years, a feat unheard of. He quickly made a name for himself in the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He had an obscenely high solve rate, due to his powerful investigative skills and extreme determination. He had little time for relationships, especially after having his heart broken in high school. His superiors had entrusted him with this very high profile case. Now he could solve it, and maybe get a transfer to the field office back in Hartford. He wanted nothing more than to get away from DC and back home.
***
"Is she in there?" he asked the police officer standing in the hallway.
"Yeah, she's a little shaken up. Take it easy on her, Agent Dugrey."
"Of course."
Tristin walked into the interrogation room, and nearly had a heart attack. Rory Gilmore. My God.
***
Rory looked up in alarm when the door unexpectedly opened again. Then she cursed herself for being so jumpy when she saw the FBI Agent that the police had informed her was coming. Then she took in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the confident manner in which he held himself. She stared in amazement. Tristin Dugrey had become an FBI Agent?
Tristin found his voice first. "Rory? What are you doing here?"
Rory looked him straight in the eye. "I kind of witnessed a murder, in case you hadn't heard."
Tristin shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "I mean, I know that, but what are you doing in Philadelphia? And what the HELL do you think you're doing putting yourself in jeopardy like that?" He was beginning to get angry.
"My job," Rory stated flatly.
"You could have gotten killed!"
"And you could easily get killed in your line of work. We all do what we have to do."
"I don't believe this. This is crazy. You are the last person I ever expected..."
"Well, what happens now?" All Rory wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed...maybe call her mother and hear her comforting voice.
"Well, you've agreed to testify against Joey Mendoza, correct?"
Rory nodded her head.
"We've got to put you in protective custody until the trial."
"WHAT!"
"Rory, the media is all over this. This is a high profile case. You're in danger. Once Mendoza's boss finds out your identity, and believe me he will, he will do whatever it takes to get you out of the way. We've got to make sure you're safe. Your safety comes above everything else."
Rory buried her face in her hands. "I don't believe this is happening."
"I'll go make the proper arrangements. Sit tight, okay?" Tristin gave her a reassuring smile before turning and walking out the door.
***
"I understand sir...yes, sir...I will make sure of it. Thank you, sir." Tristin hung up his cell phone and leaned against the wall. His superior had agreed to let Tristin take on the task of ensuring Rory's safety. After hearing of their past history, his boss had been concerned that Tristin would allow his personal feelings to get the better of his judgment. But Tristin had done some fast talking and made some good points-mainly, that Rory would feel safer with someone she knows. His boss had finally agreed. So now all he had to do was break it to Rory.
***
"So wait a minute, YOU'RE going to stay with me?"
"Technically, we'll be going to a different location, but yes. I will be with you." He waited for the yelling to begin. And was surprised.
"Thank God," Rory breathed.
Tristin relaxed a little. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised.
