A.N.: It takes place after the seventh season finale of Gilmore Girls… however I think it as a final alternative scene. It's a translation of another story of mine, and it's made by my close friend, Ivy. I hope you like it. And it is dedicated for you, Ivy
A long time had past since they had seen each other.
Since the "Romeo and Juliet"'s play with Paris, in my life changes hadn't stopped happening… mi relation with Dean y the break up; my fling with Jess; my friendship with Paris; my affair (again) with Dean, that didn't have a good ending; my entrance into Yale; my friendship with Lucy and Olivia; my graduation and, at last, my on-and-off relationship with Logan after getting engaged and my departure from Stars Hollow, to cover Barack Obama's presidential campaign.
After the farewell ceremony that Luke, mom and the rest of the town organized, I joined inmediately to the campaign.
Few months later, I had been settled into a comfortable apartment in the suburbs of Washington D.C. and I had followed up the Senator's movements during his campaign for the on-line magazine I worked for.
That morning in January I had just attended to a public meeting that the democrat candidate had realized and I decided to get to the nearest Starbucks for a coffee.
I took off the blue hat that mom and Luke had given me as a Christmas present when I went home and I shook off the snow from my hair and coat.
I got closer to the bar and, as soon as a waiter came to me, I asked him my order.
- Black coffee, with cream and two of sugar- I told him.
- Two, please –said a voice behind me.- It's on me.
- It's not necessary…- I said while I turned around to guess who was there.
It was a tall man, at least 1.80 m, with short, blond hair, with a long black coat and a folder in his hand. Anyway, what attracted my attention were his navy blue eyes, with that sparkle, which looked at me. I would have swore I had seen those eyes before…
- Anything for you… Mary- he said and smiled.
I smiled back to him.
- It seems that you will never learn my name, Tristan.
He laughed at my comment.
- Yes, you love the nickname I chose for you, Rory –he replied.
- And how do you know I'm still that innocent?
He paid both coffees and gave me mine.
- Because for me you will always be my Mary.
I blushed because of that response.
- Are you in a hurry? –he asked me.
I shook my head and we sat in one of the few free tables, then we shared stories and memories about Chilton, our lives in university, the military school in North Carolina, how much it helped him and how many close friends he found there, about Paris, who was engaged with Doyle, about mi career as a journalist and his as an architect... chatting as old friends for hours, without being conscious that a week later we would be sharing a dinner at New York, that two months later we would be dating or that two years later we would be getting married, two years after we met…
January the fifteenth.
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