Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, if I did, well I'd be bathing with my six pool boys that closely resemble Colin Farrell and Vin Diesel and Ryan Phillipe and Seth Green and Brandon Boyd and AJ McLean, and well, ya' know how that goes!
Torn:
Gazing before her, dawn's rosy fingers barely peeked over the horizon, hardly illuminating the dark sky. The once alive streets were now abandoned, and the twinkling lights were now extinguished. Last night's rain had drowned the cobblestone streets, leaving a glistening film for the morn.
Jogging steadily down the familiar path, she smiled and waved to fellow joggers and friendly shopkeepers. Advancing down the lane, she grabbed a lily from a bouquet without missing a step. Smiling to Pierre, the florist, she blew him a kiss and continued.
The romantic ambiance of the city was amplified by the gothic arcitecture and the very European style. Letting go of her surroundings, she let Brandon Boyd's voice drown in her brain. The serene sound of Incubus consumed her being as she progressed down the avenue.
Suddenly she ran into a very solid, very firm pedestrian.
"Oh, sorry," she smiled throwing up her arms.
Looking up, she found herself staring into cold, steely gray eyes. The man regarded her so callously, she almost forgot who she was.
"Do you know what you've just done?" he asked, his voice deep and intimidating.
Collecting herself, she found her voice again. Shedding the flabbergasted look, she plastered one of nonchalance and smiled at him.
Glancing behind him, she saw a very tight circle of men with the same threatening look on their hard faces. They surrounded one tall man as he escaped the confines of the large luxury car.
Her smile became genuine as she recognized him. His large broad shoulders were covered in a long, tweed pea coat with a matching sash around his slim waist. Underneath she knew he was hiding a dancer's slim yet muscular build, and long strong limbs. His big round almond eyes were an intense azure with flecks of gold glittering in them. He had the bone structure of a man, yet with the softened features that woman went wild for. His lush, golden hair was cut close to his scalp and slicked back with gel.
She'd known him long ago, in a whole different world and a whole different time. His character helped shape her in her own, and his personality repelled her from others like him. In some ways he was her savior, and others he was her demise.
"Well, you aren't Queen Elizabeth, or President of the United States, or the President of France (A/N: I'm not exactly sure what kind of a government system France lives in, but my brother confirmed my guess. So if I'm wrong, blame him!), so I guess no one important," she answered.
"Well, you've just 'bumped' into the newly appointed overseas attorney of the United States," he smiled smugly.
"Really!" she gasped faking enthusiasm; it was already in all the papers that he would be arriving soon.
"Yes."
Walking right past him, she penetrated the center of the circle where the young man stood. "Hey, M. DuGrey, I hope you have a good time here in Paris. Adieu," she grinned before placing her headphones over her ears and dashing away.
"I think I've having a 'Serendipity' moment, minus John Cusack and the whole sappy love story thing."
"What happened?"
"I haphazardly-"
"Ooooh, SAT word!"
"I ran into someone I knew at Chilton."
"Who was it, Jesus?"
"Mom, Jesus didn't go to Chilton," she replied condescendingly, "he went to Around the Corner High."
"I was hoping that you'd get accepted there, but you were just so dumb! I guess I had to settle on Chilton. That was the only place that would accept you."
"Anyway, about the Serendipity moment."
"Wait, you had a Serendipity moment without John Cusack? What have I taught you?"
"Don't have sex with a man unless he pays you in advance."
"What else?"
"Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them!"
"Yeah, and about John Cusack."
"Don't have any moments synonymous with John Cusack's movies unless he is there. Then ask him can he be your daddy, because your mom will do anything, and she means 'Anything', for him," she deadpanned.
"Exactly."
"But I thought that offer went out when you married Luke?"
"Ha! I'd leave Luke in a second for John Cusack, especially in 'Say Anything' or 'High Fidelity'."
"Be careful, he might hear you."
"He already did. Babe, I gotta' go and convince him that I was lying. Wink wink, nudge nudge."
"Whatever."
"Tell me your news tonight, or call me at work."
"Sure, love you."
"Back at ya' babe."
"So, have you enjoyed your time here, M. DuGrey?"
"I just flew in this morning actually, but I've got a couple of days to get settled in before I am officially on the job, so I plan to do a lot of sightseeing and testing out the local cuisine."
"There have been many women approaching you. I wonder which one you will take home tonight." An older man winked at the young man.
"You must be corrected, to my hotel room, or shall I just say my hotel bed." He grinned, his eyes surveying the large room, or specifically the Young Women in the large room.
"In all the years that I've known you DuGrey, I've never heard of you in a serious relationship, and yet every night you permit another young woman into your bed."
"That's because in all the years that you've known me all I've ever met were women who wanted to get into my bed."
"And a DuGrey never disappoints."
"No he doesn't."
"Will you ever settle down?"
She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at the little anecdote. Casually glancing around the room she noted many conversations that she'd rather be participating in than the news of Bernard Laurent's little nephew. Granted the story was cute, but also uninteresting.
That was the problem with being a journalist at these sorts of events. So many important people want to accost you and divulge the latest gossip, but when it came down to the real stories, they had no comment.
She was bored.
Not so bored that she would high-tail out of there in moments, but bored enough to tune out Mme. Chevalier's fake laugh and M. Laurent's falsetto impersonation of his sister.
Glancing around the large ballroom, she felt her head throb from the constant glares of diamonds glittering from the women. Everyone was dressed to display all their wealth shamelessly. The women dressed in elaborate gowns, sometimes more obscene than beautiful, and men in striking tuxedos, showing all sharp lines and no real beauty.
This was a milieu that she didn't and never wished to belong to.
She herself had opted for the simple stylish little black dress. It's length swept the bottom of her knees and it's high neck stopped at her collarbone in a horizontal line, held together by two spaghetti straps. Around her neck was a modest string of pearls, and on her feet were simple pumps with an ankle strap. She'd flat-ironed her hair, giving her the Jennifer Aniston look, and only smeared on a very sheer pink lipstick.
Finally finding the object of her fascination, she politely excused herself from the small group and made her way through the crowd.
Smiling and introducing herself to people as she passed them, she couldn't help think that this was a very great turnout. But then of course who would have thought otherwise. Not only was this a party for the American attorney, but this was also a party for the very YOUNG, very HANDSOME American attorney, and many of the people there had young daughters his age looking for husbands.
"Lane, thank God I found you! Man, I've been so bored, I need some intelligent conversation!" she grinned wrapping her arms around her best friend's neck.
"I. . . I can't give ya'. . . intelligent conversation if I'm dead," Lane managed prying Rory's arms from around her neck.
"Hey, me talking rapidly to your dead corpse would be a lot more intelligent than some of the conversations I've had today."
"Man, you're just a ray of sunshine today aren't you?" she grinned.
Rory looked at her best friend's outfit. She looked beautiful. Her usually straight, jet-black hair was cradled in beautiful waves, hanging over her shoulders, and framing her beautiful face. She was wearing a red knee-length dress with a black cardigan. On her feet were sensible black pumps, and she had a small beaded necklace with a cross around her neck.
"I like the 'fit."
"Well I was going to do the Bijork thing and get the Swan dress, but I thought it was too subtle, so I decided on this."
"Well it's very-"
"And it won't make me look like a total idiot when I wear it under my white jacket."
"Ah," she said knowingly while letting her eyes graze the banquet.
"I don't know what's up, but I'm having a very 'Matrix' moment right now."
"What are you talking about?"
"That guy, the American, I feel like I've met him before, or at least have seen him."
"Don't worry, there's no glitch in the matrix, you have, in fact, met him before," she smiled as they both stared at the object of discussion.
"From where?"
"Chilton."
"Chilton?"
"Yes, although you have known him under such aliases as Evil One, Satan, Romeo, etcetera, etcetera."
"Oh my God, that's Tristan DuGrey?"
"No?" Rory said feigning shock.
At that moment, Tristan turned to meet the eyes of both his spectators.
Not bothering to look away, they conversed conspiratorially, "Man, was he that hot in high school?"
"No, and he isn't hot now!"
"Says none other than Ms. Oblivious, Rory Gilmore."
"Hey, I'm not oblivious, he's just not my taste."
"Whatever. At the current moment, your type should be anyone that breathes."
"Whatever," she mocked, then a frown appeared on her face, "I've got to interview him."
"Really? Can I come?"
"Lane, I don't think Dave would enjoy that."
"Oh who cares what Dave thinks?"
"You used to."
"Shut up!" she scowled.
Tristan watched from a distance as the two young women obviously talked about him. He plastered one of those adorable smirks on his infamous lips and watched as they animatedly argued.
He found the two girls very interesting. For one, they openly talked about him, not even trying to hide it as they stared at him and he stared back. Another thing was the way that they looked at him. They looked just as interested in him as he was in them.
And the final thing was the girl with a blue eyes.
He'd met her before he was sure. Maybe not her exactly, but those eyes, he'd met them before definitely. They were the most mysterious set of blue. As he gazed in the deep pools of sapphire, he felt his mind retreat to another time, in another place with these same exact set of blue orbs. He knew this person, he may not remember whom exactly, but those eyes were unforgettable. He couldn't recall a name, or a city, but that wasn't unusual with a beautiful young woman. The only thing that he knew was that it wasn't the first time that those eyes had held his, and the weirdest thing was, they seemed to tell him that this wouldn't be the last.
"DuGrey, Monsieur DuGrey," a voice said penetrating his thoughts.
"Huh?" he asked blinking.
"I said would you like some champagne?" Jackson asked noticing the direction of his friends gaze.
"Oh," he said returning to earth, "Sure."
A shrill beep penetrated their world and both women looked down. Unclipping the beeper from her skirt, Lane read the message.
"Babe, I gotta' go. My shift starts in half an hour and I gotta' get clear across town."
"Ok."
"Uh, I should be home before you wake up, it's not a real shift or anything. And remember you've got a date with my band tomorrow night!"
"Yeah."
"Tell Adrien and Fred I said bye," she smiled and with a wink she added, "and maybe Tristan."
"You're an idiot!" Rory grinned.
"Goodnight."
"Bonsoir." She sighed, kissing Lane on both cheeks.
"Adieu." She grinned kissing her forehead and left.
Standing there for a moment, she felt the wave of boredom drench over her again. But looking up she spotted Adrien through the circular windows of the kitchen and headed towards him.
"Hey Adrien, when are you gunna' put that mixing bowl down and dance with me?" she grinned as she entered the work area.
"Lorelei, bonne fete, oui?" he asked, his eyes twinkling as he set down the bowl.
"Very boring. Lane just left. I want to dance," she sighed with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Ok. Yves, finis pour moi."
"Merci," she grinned grabbing his hand. "Thanks."
Running out of the kitchen, they both began dancing lively to the next song.
Unknown to both, was the set of azure eyes watching.
"Do you know her?"
"No," he replied unconscious of Jackson's knowing smile.
"Would you like to?"
"Yes," he replied way too fast, "Do you know her?"
"She's American. She recently took residence in France three years ago with the other woman that you saw. Her name is Lorelei Gilmore. She is a Journalist."
"Wait, what was that name?"
"Lorelei Gilmore!"
"Mary?" he whispered under his breath.
TBC . . .
A/N: great cliffhanger isn't it? Better be happy that I already wrote chapter 2 or you'd have to wait. R&R pweeeez!
W/ luv,
Yo-yo