Story: Change of Scenery

Disclaimer: I own no rights to anything Gilmore Girls related. I just write for my own amusement.

Description: Set in Season One, up to P.S. I Lo…. Rory goes to her grandparents to escape all the drama that has gone on in her small town life of late. But she isn't so quick to return as she was in the show. A spin on if Rory had more of a season 6 sized emotional meltdown in Season 1. Trory.

"Is this a bad time?" Rory asked as she sat on her bed, against her pillows and clutched the receiver like a lifeline.

"No, I was just watching some TV," Lorelai answered. Rory could imagine her sprawled out on the couch, with a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her and the remote getting a workout.

"Anything good?" Rory said, beating around the bush.

"Not really. Is everything okay?" she asked, most likely due to the nature of the late hour.

"Yes," Rory answered automatically, then thought better of her answer. "Actually, no. Everything's kind of a mess. I don't know how everything got like this."

"Come home," Lorelai said, in a way that Rory could tell she'd been holding back for days.

"It's late," Rory said lamely. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I don't know why I've been so defensive and angry lately. But being here isn't helping, and I just need to talk to you."

"I'll come get you," Lorelai said firmly.

"It's so late. I don't want to make you leave and drive all this way at night and to wake up Grandma… how about tomorrow, after school?"

"I'll be there," Lorelai assured her, ending any doubts Rory had about her state of welcome. "Do you want to talk now?"

Rory paused, wondering where to start. "Dean told me he loved me."

Lorelai sighed softly, empathetically. "I know."

"You do?" Rory asked, surprised. "Did he tell you?"

"Yes," Lorelai admitted. "When I went in to the market, to give him a piece of my mind for hurting you. Poor kid, he had every right to defend himself. I don't know what I was thinking, other than it sucked to watch you be so miserable."

"He was so hurt. And at the time I didn't know why I couldn't say it back."

"You wanted to?" Lorelai asked, her voice upbeat in an encouraging way. It was no secret that Lorelai liked Dean. He was exactly the kind of guy any mother hoped her daughter would find. Dean was the kind of guy she'd always hoped to find. It had seemed like she was getting everything she wanted at the beginning of the year—the perfect boyfriend, her first kiss, entrance at a top school… it'd been a while since she'd longed for those things.

"I didn't want to hurt him. He's a great person, and he never did anything to warrant me breaking his heart like that."

"So you don't love him," Lorelai said, relieved to at least have a handle on what her daughter was thinking after all that time.

"No. I wasn't sure at the time, but I know now. It would have been worse to say it when I didn't mean it."

"We can't choose who we fall in love with," Lorelai soothed her, from a place of ultimate understanding. "Trust me, I wish we could control those things. Your father would be Sting, by the way."

"The tantric sex guy?" Rory groaned.

"Your generation is very jaded. He is better known for being a founding member of The Police," she schooled her daughter.

"Yeah, I'm sure some band from the eighties is going to out-blurb his professed penchant for hours-long sexual encounters," Rory mocked.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't encourage the practice," Lorelai joked. "As long as there were coffee breaks."

"Too much information," Rory grumbled. "Speaking of which," she led.

"We'll talk about Max. I've already told him that we need to keep things separate from you, until things get to a point that he becomes involved in our daily life."

"Is that… likely?" Rory asked gently.

"Maybe. I really like him. I've never been one to rush into relationships—and you know I've done everything I can to discourage him. But he seems up for the challenge, anyway. Do you hate that I'm dating him?"

"I don't hate him. I don't like the situation. I'd be easier if he weren't my teacher. Actually, if he weren't my teacher, I'd probably be thrilled about it."

"Remember that whole thing about how you can't choose who you fall for?" Lorelai pulled in a parallel, hoping for at least a working understanding between the two of them.

"The school year's almost over. After that, everything will change," Rory said, her sadness sweeping over her yet again.

"Are you okay?" Lorelai asked. "Something else is going on. Are things okay with Mom and Dad?"

"No, they're fine. They've been great, really. It's," she squeezed her eyes shut. She could still see Tristan as they shared the space of the stoop in front of her grandparents' house. He'd leaned over her, whispering into her ear before giving her a kiss goodnight. "Remember the guy that came to get me tonight?"

Lorelai let out a heavy sigh. "I had a feeling he'd come up again."

"That's Tristan."

"Whoa, wait a second. That's Tristan?" Lorelai asked, having heard the name many times, but never having had an opportunity to lay eyes on the person behind the stories.

"The one and only."

"Huh. He's cute. I always pictured him having horns or a tail or something definitive to mark his evil nature. Possibly a tattoo of six-six-six on his forehead."

"He's not evil. He's," Rory thought for a perfect description of him, but failed. He was many things. Unfortunately, soon-to-be-gone was the most prominent descriptor that sprang to mind. "He's leaving."

"Where is he going?"

"France," Rory said, full of regret.

"Wow, I've heard of the rich shipping their problem children off to boarding schools, but that's kind of far, isn't it?"

"He's not a problem child. It's a long story. But the point is, I like him and he's leaving in a few weeks."

"Oh. So it's not just him."

"What do you mean, it's not just him?"

"It was pretty obvious, despite the fact that you were clearly mad at him, that he cared about you."

"You got that from a quick five-second exchange in the diner?" Rory asked, amazed at that level of skill in reading people.

"Well, I did have a chat with him, after you went outside."

"What did you say?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I've been really worried about you, and I miss you. The house is quiet and your room is empty. No one will play bagel hockey with me. Well, Luke tried, once, to cheer me up, but he's really bad at it. Like, embarrassingly bad. Kirk beat him."

"Wow, that is bad," Rory acknowledged. "I'll definitely be home tomorrow."

"Good. We can sort things out, and maybe we can come up with a solution to your problem."

Rory didn't feel hopeful at that offer. "Can you make France be closer to Connecticut?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a day of pampering after he leaves."

"He's not gone yet," Rory said, reliving his previous sentiments. She had thought he was simply trying to cheer her up, but she wondered if he wished for time to make some kind of strategy that would allow him to stay.

"Maybe things will work out. There's still time before he goes, like you said," she said without sounding hopeful about the idea. "You should get some sleep. It's a school night."

"Okay. Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, kid. See you tomorrow."

-X-

"I need a manicure."

"I thought you just got one."

"I did, but the color makes me look sickly, like I have mono or something. What do you think?" Louise asked as she held up one perfectly groomed hand to her face for contrast.

"It's not the color of your nails, it's the fact that you're the most likely carrier of a disease that's spread through kissing at this school," Paris barked, ending the debate over personal grooming that her friends were deeply engaged in. "You're lucky if mono is all you're spreading around."

Madeline raised her eyebrows at Louise. "I think I need a tan."

Louise shook her head. "With your creamy complexion? That would be a sin."

"That's why you think she shouldn't get a tan? Because pale is in? Not because of the exponential risk of skin cancer? Oh, my God!" Paris said, glaring at the two of them.

"Isn't it a bit early to be evoking a higher power to get you through the day, Paris?" Rory asked cheerfully as she opened her locker and joined the trio for the ritual of early morning preparation for the day ahead.

"I don't believe in a higher power," Paris snapped.

"Because you'd have to admit that someone else had greater intelligence than you?" Rory guessed.

"Ooh, Rory gets in a good one," Louise cheered in what could only be described as sultry manner. Rory sometimes wondered if Louise practiced her moves in front of a mirror. Chances were high that she did.

"Religion is just a security blanket for the masses," Paris interjected, trying to put up her side of the argument.

"I believe in angels," Madeline offered.

"Of course you do," Paris muttered as she slammed her locker shut and left without another word. Louise and Madeline waved at Rory and wandered off at a more leisurely pace behind Paris, picking up their conversation on skin tone.

"You look happy."

Rory turned to see Tristan approaching her locker. She stepped toward him and shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. "I just annoyed Paris."

He smiled. "And here I thought it might be the fact you were looking forward to seeing me that had your spirits so high."

She shook her head, assuming an unimpressed expression. "Nope. Haven't given you a thought at all."

He took a step in, so that the distance between them was roughly the width of her open locker door. "I didn't mean to upset you last night."

She looked down at the floor. "I know."

"I haven't had much time to work on Medina's paper outside of class," he began.

"Or inside it," she pointed out his recent tardiness and early morning absences.

"That too. Can I come over later?"

She went flush at the inquiry. "I… I won't be at my grandparents."

He frowned in disappointment. "No more pool house?"

She shook her head. "No. I called my mom last night. We talked, and she's coming to get me after school. I mean, you could come there, but it's a lot farther away and not nearly so private."

"Would your mom mind?" he asked.

She shook her head. "She'd probably rather have you in her house than the two of us stowed away in the pool house at Grandma's with no watchful eyes on us."

"I actually have the exact opposite desire," he said into her ear, making her start.

"I…," she began, words literally disappearing from her memory before she could form them.

He smiled at her reaction. "It's good that you're going home, though. Right?"

She managed a nod. "Right."

He paused. "Mr. Medina won't be there, will he?"

She shook her head. "That would be awkward. Mom said she was going to keep him separate from me, outside of school. For the time being."

He leaned in toward her, but stopped short of a kiss. Her breath caught as he held himself back within striking distance. He swallowed as he eyed her lips. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," she said, barely whispering the word before he kissed her. It was over in an instant, and as strange as she thought it might be to kiss someone in school, it would have felt more foreign to have held back from him. "We should get to class."

"Aren't you going to shut your locker?" he asked, noting her one oversight.

"Oh, yeah, probably a good idea. If I don't, Paris would probably be the one to see it first and pour hydrochloric acid from the chem lab all over it. She's having a bad morning; it seems unwise to give her extra opportunities."

"You must have really annoyed her."

She shrugged. "Nothing special. Usually just my presence in her life is enough to rub her the wrong way."

"You are difficult to ignore," he agreed.

"I am?" she asked, taken aback by the notion.

"Damn near impossible," he assured her in a low tone, meant for her ears only.

"I'd hate to be an unwanted distraction," she offered coyly.

"I never said I didn't want you," he said immediately, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

She swallowed. If there was an appropriate response to that particular statement, it was assuredly highly suggestive. She had a hard time with that form of verbal banter. His ease with the whole issue kept her on edge. Each time, she could feel herself being drawn closer and closer—soon she would have to worry about what might happen if she fell over it.

"So, you'll come over later?"

He smiled. "I'll be there."

-X-

Emily sat on the edge of the settee, while they waited for Lorelai's arrival. Rory was still in her Chilton uniform, having just arrived home from school. The conversation had grown stilted after Rory had talked to her mother and informed Emily she'd be leaving that afternoon.

"Do you have everything packed?" Emily asked after a while.

"Yes. It's not that much anyway, just some clothes and school stuff."

Emily nodded. "And your mother is definitely on her way?"

Rory smiled. "Yes. Grandma, I can't thank you enough for letting me stay."

"Oh, it was our pleasure. Truly. It gave us a little excitement from our usual routine. I'd forgotten what it was like to have a teenager in the house. Though I wish you and I would have had more time to pal about. Maybe once school's let out, you and I can spend some more time together. We could go have lunch after your classes, perhaps."

Rory smiled. "I'd like that. And I'd still like to go to the functions you mentioned."

Emily brightened. "You would? How lovely. Are you sure you'll have time?"

Rory's shoulders slumped. "Yes. School won't take up that much of my time. I have the whole summer free other than that."

Emily gave her an appraising look. "Was there something else you'd planned to spend your time on?"

Rory shook her head. "No, not really."

Emily cleared her throat lightly. "It was nice of Tristan Dugrey to offer to go all the way to Stars Hollow just to pick you up last night. Richard said he wouldn't accept any compensation for his trouble, either."

Rory shifted in her seat. "Grandpa offered to pay him?"

"It was the polite thing to do. Your grandfather thought perhaps Tristan might have been glad of the excuse to see you."

Rory fidgeted some more. "Maybe he was just eager to get out of all those meetings."

"He told you about his family's business?" Emily asked.

"A little. I know his father's unhappy and that Tristan's going to France this summer."

Emily blew out a breath. "Parry was born unhappy with his lot in life. Nothing has ever been enough for that man. I was shocked when he agreed to marry Clare. He'd never done a thing his father had wanted in his whole life."

Rory frowned. "Janlen set them up?"

"Clare's family was in the wine import business, and the pairing was supposed to be beneficial to expanding both families businesses. It wasn't a truly arranged marriage, but these things are often heavily impressed upon, rather than outright forced. But it was hardly by chance they met."

"I'm too late! You're discussing bloodlines and arranged marriages, aren't you? Oh, God, did you join the DAR?" Lorelai asked in a mocking tone as she joined the pair and grabbed hold of her daughter's shoulders melodramatically.

Rory hugged her mother. Lorelai held her tightly for a minute in return.

"What would be so wrong with her wanting to join the DAR? She's eligible. As are you, I might add," Emily said defensively.

"Then they've clearly let their standards slide," Lorelai shot back good-naturedly before turning to examine Rory at arm's length. "Did Grandma arrange a marriage for you?"

"I'm sixteen," Rory said with a roll of her eyes.

Lorelai smirked. "She tried to plan my wedding when I was sixteen."

"That was an entirely appropriate response to the situation," Emily said with a staunch crispness.

"I'm just saying it wouldn't be completely out of character," Lorelai said innocently.

Rory rolled her eyes. "We were not talking about me. We were talking about a friend's parents. Oh, and plans for the summer."

"Rory agreed to accompany me to the flower show at the botanical gardens. Would you like to join us?" Emily asked.

"Uh, I think I'm busy that weekend," Lorelai answered quickly.

"I didn't mention the date."

"Is it this summer? Because my summer is action-packed. It's like my very own summer blockbuster that just won't end. There's even a car chase, with a helicopter in pursuit and road blocks on the highway," Lorelai explained.

"A simple, 'I don't want to go, Mom,' would suffice," Emily said with exasperation.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I don't want to go, Mom."

"Fine. I'll see you both for dinner on Friday?" Emily asked.

"Of course, Mom," Lorelai said graciously. She turned back to Rory. "Do you have all your stuff?"

"I'll have the maid help bring it out," Emily said, stepping away to gather her help.

Lorelai turned to Rory and gave her a bracing smile. "So. A few changes since you've left. I thought about making your room into an exercise room, but I didn't have any exercise equipment except an Ab Roller and an old ThighMaster. It seemed a waste of space. So, instead, I thought about what I've always wanted and it hit me. My very own taffy puller. The machine is pretty big, but it fits perfectly in your room. And bonus, fresh salt-water taffy at home."

Rory hugged her mother again. "I missed you."

Lorelai pressed her cheek into the crown of Rory's head. "I missed you too."

Rory pulled back and sighed. "The friend we were talking about was Tristan. Grandma and Grandpa seem to think he likes me."

"Grandma and Grandpa might have a little wishful thinking thrown in there, but I can't say I disagree. Was that his family you guys were discussing? Sounds even more messed up than we are. And that's no small feat. I'm a fierce competitor."

"His dad sounds awful," Rory said with a nod.

"If things are that bad for him, maybe his going to France will be for the best," Lorelai said gently.

"I guess. Oh, and speaking of Tristan, he's coming over later. We're studying together. Is that okay?" Rory asked with big, hopeful blue eyes. It was a tactic she learned from her mother, but nonetheless was fairly effective.

"Tonight? It's your first night back! I thought we'd go to Luke's and show him how to play bagel hockey like a real man and then come home and catch up with some girl talk."

"That sounds great, but with finals coming up I need the time to study. And Tristan will be gone soon, leaving me free all summer to hang out with just you," Rory added, adding a fine layer of guilt onto the request.

"And Grandma, apparently," Lorelai sniffed. "I guess I can't say no to studying," she said at last with a wistful sigh. "Studying isn't code for anything, is it? I can leave you alone for a few minutes without worrying about coming back to some scene from Cruel Intentions or anything?"

"Mom! We're not even dating."

"Why not? You like him and apparently even Richard Gilmore realizes he likes you. That man never even realized I was dating Christopher until I showed him the pregnancy test."

Rory shrugged and diverted her attention. "What's the point? I like him, but he's leaving and there's nothing I can do about it. Plus, he hasn't asked me out… recently."

Lorelai eyed her daughter. "Aw, Honey, you're sixteen. You're allowed to date, even if there's no future in it."

"I know, but," Rory said, her chest feeling heavy at the thought. "I don't want to make things harder than they have to be."

Lorelai gave her a side hug. "Come on. Let's start loading up the Jeep."

Rory was glad for the break in conversation, even if it was just to load her few belongings into the back of the Jeep and say goodbye to her grandmother. Her home life might be getting back to normal, but she wasn't sure that anything would ever feel the same again.

-X-

In the end, Rory hadn't been able to avoid the lure of coffee as a pit stop on their way home. Instead of wasting precious study time, which Lorelai referred to with full-on kissing noises, they'd opted to grab take-out from Luke's along with coffee for the late-night session. Lorelai reminded her daughter that she wasn't cool with an all-nighter where teenage boys were concerned, even if he was a handy ride to school, and left the two of them to use the living room without her eagle eyes on them once Tristan arrived.

He'd entered the house with a curiosity that she'd never seen in him before. He made polite conversation with her mother, as he did with most all adults she'd seen him interact with, even making Lorelai laugh. She wondered how he was so adept at being at ease with older people. It was only after they'd settled onto the couch at opposite ends with books buffering the distance between them that he commented on his thoughts.

"You seem relaxed here."

She lifted her chin and diverted her attention from her book. "It's my house."

He shook his head. "I know, but… last time we were in town, you were so jumpy. And at school, you're very focused and detached. But here, you seem different. More like yourself."

"You weren't kidding about finding me distracting, were you?" she teased him for his analysis.

"It's nice to see. You should be this comfortable everywhere."

She was amazed at his ability to render her speechless with simple compliments. They were just words, but his hit her differently than other people's. No one had ever spoken about her in such a vivid way before. She ducked her head and focused intently on her book. "Um, thanks."

"You want me to shut up so you can read, right?"

She stole a glance at him with a sheepish expression. "That's not what I was thinking, but it's an excellent suggestion, given the fact that my mother is upstairs and could come down at any moment for any number of reasons, either real or fabricated."

He smiled. "Noted. I'll just be right here, reading."

He made a show of opening his book and finding his place. She watched with amusement as he pointedly paid her no attention at all. She readjusted her body so she was facing him as she lifted her book up to scan its contents.

"Rory?" he asked, still looking at his book.

"Yes?"

"You have plans every Friday night, right?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Her heart sped up. "Yes."

His clear blue eyes finally lifted off the page to meet hers. "What about Saturdays?"

Her mouth had gone dry, but coffee seemed a bad idea at the moment. She was wound up enough. "They're free, typically, for other activities."

He nodded, pretending to go back to his book, his question answered. Frustrated, she slid her foot out from under her other leg and pushed it against his thigh. Surprised by the act, he put his hand around her foot and held it still. His touch preoccupied her as his grip loosened. He slid his hand up her foot, to her ankle, and then to her calf.

"Did you need something?" he inquired, not moving his hand higher nor letting go.

"It just seemed like you began a line of questioning without finishing it."

"And kicking me was what? A way to jumpstart the conversation?"

"I didn't kick you. I nudged you," she corrected.

"I was right before. You're different here than you are everywhere else."

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all," he said sincerely.

"You're kind of weird here," she muttered.

"I'm a guest in your house. I'm trying to be on my best behavior," he informed her.

"Well, stop it. You're freaking me out. Don't you need your hand back?" she inquired as she fixated on their junction.

"Is it bothering you?"

"It's a little distracting," she admitted.

He smiled. "How distracting?"

"You're supposed to be reading!" she chastised. "Do you even have a working outline yet?"

"Okay, fine. You're right. I'll go back to reading," he said, doing as he said and further incurring her wrath. Feeling bold, she took his hand and moved it just a fraction above her knee.

His eyebrows rose as he fixed her with an expression that caused her heart to skip a beat or two. "Okay, now that's distracting," he said without faltering.

"Did you really just want to confirm that I'll be sitting around here on Saturday alone?" she demanded.

"I was working up to asking you to go out with me. I made no assumption that you'd be alone."

She smiled. "You want to take me out?"

"We could stay in, if you'll be otherwise alone," he said, giving her knee a light squeeze. She squirmed and guided his hand back down a few inches.

"I'd love to go out with you."

He smiled and went back to his book. "Good."

"Yeah," she said, smiling behind her own book. "Good."

For a moment, her present seemed a perfect resolution to everything she'd run from. If only she'd been able to shake the feeling that it felt too good to be true. Nothing that felt that good seemed to last forever, she feared. There was a time limit on her happiness, but given the alternative, she was choosing to gain what she could from the given opportunity. She might not have chosen to feel so strongly for someone that would leave her, just as she couldn't force herself to love someone that might have always stayed around. But at that moment, she did her best to just enjoy sitting next to him and feeling the touch of his fingers graze her leg as they studied. When it came to him, she was definitely happy for the constant distraction.