Notes: Okay, I want to thank you all, again, for waiting so patiently for the next update. I'm doing my best, but my muses do as they please and, lately, it's my WWE muses that have taken over. That said, my latest WWE fic has a character a lot like Lorelai and she sparked my Gilmore Girls muses into action.
I want to send out a HUGE thank you to Kriti, who has reviewed relentlessly to this story for updates. I'm sorry I wasn't able to deliver sooner. I appreciate that you took the time to review so many times.
I can't garuntee when the next update will be, as I have to do a lot of overtime this week and next week. Then I'm away at the weekend for a wedding. I do, however, have the start of the next chapter already written, so hopefully, it won't be too long.
Story Note: Okay, I decided just to continue with the cycle as if I hadn't missed out a Lorelai chapter. That means that this chapter is from Tristan's POV and the next will be Lorelai's, then Rory's, then back to Tristan, and so on.
xxxxx
Part Eleven: We're Men, Manly Men!
xxxxx
Tristan rolled his pencil around his finger and tried to focus on what Mr Medina was saying. He was pretty sure it had something to do with Tolstoy, but he wouldn't bet on it.
He had been restless for two days now, not sure exactly what he was so worked up about. No, that was a lie, he knew exactly what he was worked up about, he just had no idea what he was supposed to do about it.
It hadn't taken long for him to get the full story of what had happened between Rory and Summer from his friends. He had turned the corner just in time to hear the word 'voyeurism' and it hadn't taken long to figure out what was going on. However, he had demanded a full explanation anyway. He wanted to know exactly what had been said and it was the words 'if and when', more importantly the 'when' that had been plaguing him ever since.
Rory thought about him. No, she didn't just think about him, she thought abut him. There was no way she would have even bothered with the 'when' if she hadn't…right?
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled when he realised that she was biting the end of her pencil. Her face was scrunched up in concentration and she was listening aptly to her soon-to-be-stepfather.
"Mr DuGrey."
And, he supposed, he really should have been doing the same.
"Yes, sir?"
"Is there something on your mind that you wish to share with us all?"
"No, sir."
"Then, please, pay attention."
Mr. Medina raised his eyebrows and he nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Well, now that I have everybody's attention, allow me to introduce to you the dreaded 'project'." His words might as well have been followed by an ominous 'dun dun dun'.
"That's right. Now that you've moved up in the world, or at least in the school, we no longer expect you just to read and understand Shakespeare, we intend to torture the gentlemen into tights and the ladies into thinking that men who wear tights are attractive."
The girls chuckled and Tristan exchanged a grimace with Derek.
"So, your project will be based on what many consider to be Shakespeare's most romantic and tragic play. That's right, ladies and gentlemen; this year's performances will be based on Romeo and Juliet."
The announcement was greeted by a mix of sighs and groans and Tristan was surprised to note that Rory wasn't one of the ones sighing. Not that he'd thought she'd be the type to sigh, but more because she had also seemed less than thrilled with the idea.
"Now, I know what you're thinking," Mr. Medina continued. "Romeo and Juliet is a little cliché for such a cool English teacher like me." He watched Rory chuckled along with the rest of the class. She glanced over at him and he smiled and rolled his eyes at Mr. Medina's statement.
"Which is why I have an added stipulation. As you all know, there are certain key scenes of Romeo and Juliet that have been, well, done to death for lack of a better term. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it-"
"We have a choice?" Tristan asked, pretending to stand and leave and Rory mock glared at him.
"You have a choice as to whether or not you pass this class, Mister DuGrey." Tristan sat back down and Max shook his head, smiling at the class. "Your challenge for this assignment is that you have to make the scene you're given into something new."
"What do you mean 'new'?" Paris asked abruptly.
"I mean, Miss Gellar, that I want to see something different, something I've never before seen in Romeo and Juliet. You can set it in a night club, have a theme, you can do anything you want with it. The scene doesn't have to be considered as part of the play as a whole, but you can set it apart as a play in its own right. I want you to be imaginative, be expressive, but, most of all, be original. The other challenge will be the editing. Each scene must be reduced to five minutes only – no more and no less – and you will have to edit wisely; we still want to be able to understand what's going on.
"Now, to make this work, I've chosen the two most clichéd scenes of all; the balcony scene and the death scene. I will put you into groups of three: a Romeo, a Juliet, and a director – it's part of your process to decide who does what. However, the groups have already been decided and the list will be posted by the door for you to check on your way out. I've tried to put you with people I think you'll work well with and whom I think will bring out the best in you and you in them. There will be no changing and no negotiating."
"Do we get to decide what scene we do?" Derek asked as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, and Max shook his head.
"That has already been decided and is written next to your names, along with a number. The number is the order you'll be on stage on the night. Now this project is not small trifle. Your interpretation of this text and the subsequent performance, along with a 2000 word dissertation on what your process and analysis, is worth fifty percent of your grade, so I suggest you do not take it lightly. Now, are there any questions?" When no one answered, Max nodded. "Good. I'll see you all next week."
Max walked to the door and pinned up a list as the class tidied up their things. Rory picked up her books and turned to Tristan and Derek with a smile.
"You got any ideas?" Derek asked hopefully.
"Sorry, I don't find out about these things any earlier than you do," Rory said and Tristan could tell that she was making sure that the others who were lagging behind to listen could hear her. He knew she wasn't unaware of the few people who had declared that Max probably told her what they were doing in class before hand, but she had decided to ignore it.
"Only one way to find out then," Tristan said with a smile.
They headed toward the door and he and Derek went straight to the list. He asn't ashamed, however, to admit that he was listening in as Rory stopped to talk to Max.
"If it's okay, I'm going to head over to Tristan's after school to study," she said and Max nodded.
"Of course, you want me to let your mom know?"
"Yes, please. I tried to call her, but she's got that meeting today and I don't trust Michel to tell her."
Max laughed and nodded. "Be home by eleven?"
Rory nodded and turned to Tristan as he approached. "Well?"
"You, me, and Madeline," he said. "We're on third and we have the balcony scene."
"Excellent, that sounds like much more fun. What about you?" she asked Derek, who sighed as he approached them.
"Jade and Henry, we're on last with the death scene."
"Oh, that's not so bad."
"I'm glad you approve," Max said, ushering them to the door. "I'll see you at eleven, Rory. Have a nice evening and don't blame me for being late to your next class."
xxxx
"So…ideas?" Rory asked, glancing at Tristan.
"I did read the book," Madeline said suddenly
He glanced at Rory and she frowned. "That's…good."
"Sorry. Louise said it was a waste of time, because Paris would fill her in and you'd have read it, but I wanted to read it. We never studied it last year, but I quite like Shakespeare. He's very good at saying something with lots of pretty words that he could have said with a few boring ones."
Tristan snickered and Rory grinned at Madeline. "Exactly, why use one word when you can use lots."
"Not to mention the added bonus that, years after your death, millions of people will sit around incorrectly analysing the text in order to figure out what that one word was," Tristan added and Rory nodded.
"Mass confusion wrapped in a pretty package."
"You're both very odd."
"Thank you," they said in unison.
"You're welcome."
"So," Rory said again. "Ideas?"
"Well," Tristan said, sighing and leafing through his photocopied pages. "I guess we should decide who'll direct and who's going to act."
Rory grinned. "Personally, I think Tristan should play Juliet."
"Funny."
"I try."
"Maybe we should edit first," Madeline suggested. "If we work on it then see if anyone has ideas?"
"Works for me," Tristan said with a shrug.
They worked through the text, beginning to edit until they realised that it might be a better idea to first translate the text into 'their' language before taking out something they might need later. They worked until the bell rang signalling the end of lunch and he turned to Rory and smiled as Louise approached them. They excused themselves before heading out to their next class.
"So, how much do you want to bet that Madeline is currently being treated to one of Louise's 'I can't believe you were studying during your lunch hour' rants?" Rory asked.
He laughed. "She's got a lot to choose from, I hear she actually has a list so that she can vary which ones to give Paris ever day."
"I'm sure Paris appreciates that."
"I'm sure she does." Tristan smiled. "So, I can't help but notice you didn't seem too thrilled with the project."
"Not big on performance…or anything to do with it, really. I can analyse it and I always know how it should be said, but that doesn't mean I can ever do it."
"You'll be fine. We still haven't decided anything yet, anyway."
She smiled at him. "I know."
"So, we're still on for tonight?"
"Yep, will I just ride back with you? I mean if your parent's are having a party tomorrow night, are they going to be getting things ready, or-"
Tristan stopped walking and groaned. "Crap."
"What?"
"The party was moved to tonight. I'm sorry, I totally forgot."
She shrugged. "It's okay, you can come back to mine. We can study and order in some piz-eh, take out."
He frowned, but didn't question the sudden change. Instead, he simply asked, "You sure?"
"You're practically part of the furniture."
"Gee, thanks," he said wryly. "I better be the expensive, leather, lazy-boy."
"Well, you're a lazy boy-"
"That was so bad I don't even know why I'm commenting."
"But you did comment." She smirked. "As I was saying, we tend to think of you much like a pair of dog chewed slippers; no matter how gross they get, the dog just won't let you throw them out."
"That's…really gross."
"I try."
Tristan chuckled. "So, is this the week your mother treats us to a board game?" he asked, smirking.
"I'm serious, she will eat you! Whatever you do, do not play scrabble with her!"
"As fascinating as this conversation is, Miss Gilmore, Mister DuGrey." They turned to see Mr. Ward standing beside them bemusedly. "I think we may be best served entering the classroom."
xxxxx
Tristan chuckled as Lorelai growled for, what was by his count, the eleventh time. She sighed and glowered at them each in turn, not amused when she was met with amusement, or, in Rory's case, annoyance.
"I don't wanna play anymore," Lorelai said, pouting. She sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and glared at the table.
"We've only had one go each!" Rory cried. "And you haven't even taken yours yet!"
"Yes, you're right, we have had one go each. One go in which you spelled 'Zesty' for 57 points, Max got 'Arduous' for 12 points, Tristan managed to get 'Query' for 34 points and all I've got is 'poop'!"
"There's nowhere you can put that," Rory said, frowning at the board, as the men chuckled.
"Gee, thanks, guys, nice to know the fact that the tiles are out to get me amuses you so much."
"Out to get you?" Rory asked.
"You think 'poop' isn't 'out to get me' when you guys get 'zesty', 'ardous', and 'query'?"
"Poop is out to get you?"
"And we're done with the French fries," Tristan said, scrunching up his nose and pushing his food away from him.
"I only got 12 points, though," Max pointed out, trying to appease her.
"But you got rid of all but one letter and you get to choose whole new letters."
"Because choosing half letters would be silly," Rory said sagely.
"Oh, yes, please continue to mock me!"
"You just said that poop was out to get you!"
"Look!" Lorelai cried, thrusting her letters tray at Rory. "How is that not out to get me?"
"Wow. That does suck."
"It can't be that bad," Max said frowning and she turned on him.
"Oh, no? Let me see, X, V, P, O, O, P, B, you're right, this game just loves me. I told you, oh, did I tell you, but would any of you listen to me? Oh, no, not one little bit. I'm telling you, all those stupid letters that everyone hates and only really, really, really smart, 'I'd-memorised-the-dictionary-by-the-time-I-was-five' type people can ever get any use out of just gravitate towards me! They see my hand coming into the bag and just jump into it!"
"Does the fact that you can spell 'Ox' completely escape you?" Rory asked, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, yes, please use your Chilton education, which I am funding through hours of my life, I might add, to continue mocking me." Lorelai glared. "I mean, really, can I get you a whip? Maybe some nun-chucks or maybe one of those chains with the ball on the end?"
"It's two letters."
"Oh, going for the big guns, I see."
Tristan frowned and turned to Rory. "Is this why you said you never play Scrabble with your mum?"
"She's vicious. I tried to warn you."
"I might listen next time. Although, you're just as bad."
Both Gilmore girls glared at him and he shot Max a look that clearly screamed 'help!'
"Why don't we play something else?" Max asked, reaching out to clear the board.
"Oh," Lorelai said, suddenly breaking into a grin. "Who wants to play 'Life'?"
"No!" Rory exclaimed.
"You're just sore because you always lose."
"You cheat!"
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Okay, girls, girls!" Max said, breaking into their argument. "Why don't we just forgo the board games and…do something else."
"We could have cake," Rory suggested.
"Oooh, cake!" Lorelai grinned as Max got up to cut them all a piece. "I got Sookie to make if for us, special. She said I could either have cookies or cake."
Rory frowned. "But we had cookies."
"I wore her down."
"What did you do?"
"I pulled a Patrick Swayze."
"You didn't!"
"I did. I just kept on going and going and going, like that stupid little pink bunny and she cracked under the pressure."
"Patrick Swayze?" Max asked and Rory's eyes widened. Before she could prevent it, however, Lorelai began to shout.
"I'm Henry the Eighth, I am! Henry the Eighth, I am, I a-"
Max clapped his hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry I asked."
"Never ask," Rory said emphatically. "You should know by now to never ask."
"So, you wore her down," Tristan asked as Lorelai nodded. Max cautiously removed his hand and, after a few outbursts resulting in it being clamped over her mouth again, she was silent.
"Cake?" she asked sweetly and Max complied by going back to finish cutting it.
"So you plan to have your cake and eat it," Tristan said with a smirk.
"My God, don't they teach you how to actually be witty at that fancy school? And, of course I'm gonna eat it. Who has cake and doesn't eat it? I mean, seriously, who just sits and stares at a cake? Why would anyone do that? Because it's pretty? I mean, who does that?"
"Eh, you do," Rory pointed out.
"Well, yeah…okay, but eventually, I eat it."
"Not always."
"When? When have I ever had cake and not eaten it?"
"Two years ago."
"What? When?"
"Lane's birthday."
"That wasn't cake. That was poison. Whole different form of torture, Mrs Kim style. It jiggled for God's sake."
"Trifle jiggles," Tristan pointed out and she turned on him.
"Trifle has jello, it's supposed to jiggle. It's jello, it goes with the territory."
"Okay, fine," Rory continued. "But you have had cake and not eaten it."
"Again I ask you, when? Name one time and place and I will-"
"Sookie's birthday four years ago, she made a huge chocolate cake and you sat and stared and didn't eat it."
"It was off; stale; solid; inedible, even for a Gilmore! It was growing mould!"
"And why was it growing mould? Why was a perfectly good chocolate cake sitting on our kitchen table for two months in the height of summer until it grew mould?"
"I…eh…don't remember."
"Because you said it was too pretty to eat. We had to stare at it and bask in its chocolate-y goodness and by the time you had driven yourself completely crazy wondering how good it tasted and actually tried it, you had one bite and were ill for four days with food poisoning."
"That was a pretty cake."
"I rest my case."
"So," Max said, still smiling and shaking his head. He was likely wondering what he was getting himself in for, Tristan mused, and loving every moment of it. "Cake all round?" He placed four plates on the table.
"I really have to get going, actually," Tristan said, running a hand though his hair and standing to leave.
"But cake!" Lorelai cried.
"Can I take it to go? We've got an early start in the morning and I promised Ellie I'd be back before she went to sleep."
"Oh, isn't that adorable, Rory," Lorelai teased.
Tristan rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll see you all in the morning."
"O-oh, no you won't." Lorelai chuckled, sighing at his supposed 'naivety'. "My dear, sweet, Tristan, you may have a pretty car, you may be stealing my only daughter and whisking her away to New York, but under no circumstances am I getting up at 5am for you."
"The 5am thing was her idea," Tristan said defensively, pointing at Rory. "My dear director is intent on killing me."
"Romeo's supposed to die," Rory said sweetly. "It gives me permission in the script. And we haven't fully decided on the role's yet. But I'll still use my permission. I have it," She repeated with a smile. "It says so in the script."
"Not in the balcony scene, it doesn't!"
"Well, I'm not talking to any of you until you tell me what I get to dress you up in," Lorelai said, huffily.
"I have no inclination to play dress-up, thanks," Tristan said warily. "It's hard enough trying to get Ellie away from me."
They all laughed and Rory grinned at him. "I definitely want to meet her."
"You'll see her in the morning. She's planning on doing a very embarrassing send off, from what I can tell."
"Will there be tiaras?" Lorelai asked, alarming him slightly in her exuberance.
"Why…would there tiaras?"
Lorelai mock gasped. "What is a proper send off without a tiara, I ask you? Rory will back me up."
"You mean the Rory you publicly humiliated when she was five by dressing her in a pink tutu, a feather boa, and a tiara and paraded her round the whole of Stars Hollow?"
"You loved it!"
Rory frowned. "It was kinda fun."
"There will be no tiaras," Tristan reiterated. Then he thought about his sister. "I hope."
"Ooh, fun," Lorelai said, bouncing. "But I'm still not getting up for it. Rory, will you take me lots of pretty pictures?"
"What's in it for me?"
"My motherly affection, of course. Oh, and the fifty I'll palm you under the table when no one's looking."
"Consider it done."
"Right," Tristan interrupted, smiling and taking the wrapped up piece of cake Max handed to him. "I really have to go."
"I hope the party's over," Rory said, leading him to the door.
"It won't be," he said with a sigh. "But it's a nice thought. If I'm really lucky, I'll even make it to my room without being accosted by my mother's drunken friends."
Rory winced. "Good luck with that."
"Thanks. I'll need it." He grinned and leaned down to kiss her, only just realising what he was doing at the last minute. He cleared his throat and made to pull back, before changing his mind and kissing her gently on the cheek.
He felt her breath catch and smiled as she puffed air onto his cheek a moment later. Smiling, he pulled back.
"Good night, Rory," he said softly. She didn't answer, just nodded, continuing to stare at him wide-eyed.
His smile faltered a little. Until he realised something; she'd moved towards him first.
Grinning, he walked away, tucking his hands into his pockets and humming under his breath. His grin only widened when he spotted someone standing under one of the trees in the Gilmore's yard.
"Stalking is an arrest-able offence, you know," he pointed out smugly.
"Go play with your calculator, accountant."
"I'm sorry," Tristan said, looking at Dean in the same way he'd look at a pair of smelly old trainers. "Was that supposed to be funny? Oh, wait, I remember now, you have no sense of humour. Or a sense of intelligence or wit, and, oh yeah, you have absolutely no sense of when you're not wanted."
Dean made a move towards him, but he was cut off by a voice ringing across the garden. "Tristan!"
He grimaced, but schooled his features before he turned around. "He was lurking, Mary. He was spying on you."
"Oh, Rory, come on! Can't you see what he's doing?"
"Just stop!" They both did as she asked and Tristan was fuming inside. When, exactly, had he started acting like an obedient little puppy? "God, you're both acting like children."
"He started it!" Dean yelled.
"You existence started it, Bag Boy."
"Tristan, just go home now!" When he turned to look at her, he was pretty sure his face made it clear how angry he was at that. "Please," she said softly. But it wasn't a request.
"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
Dean smirked as Tristan passed him. "She will always pick me," he said softly and Tristan had to force himself not to react. There was no way Rory had heard what her boyfriend had said and he was really not in the mood to have to defend himself again.
Instead he got into his car and drove home. He was pretty sure he didn't stay in the speed limit for any of the journey.
xxxx
He was angry. In fact, 'livid' was likely a better term. He wasn't exactly sure, of course, whether or not he was more angry at Rory or at himself, but the fact remained that he was furious. He stormed through the hallway and entered the gents, taking great pleasure at the loud bang that accompanied him as the door slammed against the wall, rocking on its hinges. He walked across the room, ignoring the men around him that were giving him a wide berth and stood by the sinks, resting against his hands.
He let out a sharp breath and resisted the urge to kick the wall. Today was supposed to have been a good day, it was supposed to have been the first real, full day he'd had Rory to himself. He was supposed to be suave and charming and he was supposed to have swept her of her feet by now. Instead the entire day had been an unmitigated disaster. Actually, he was pretty sure the whole thing had started last night when Dean had shown up.
"You okay, buddy?"
He turned and glared at the boy next to him. "What the hell do you care?"
"Well, I don't really, but, see, you're standing right in front of the paper towels and, gee, look at that; I have wet hands."
Tristan growled and stepped aside. "Sorry," he ground out. There was something about the punk that instantly got on his nerves. That said, his anger was likely clouding any judgement.
"So, the little brunette givin' ya a hard time?" the guy asked with a smirk and Tristan decided that, yeah, he really didn't like him.
"What's it to you?"
The boy shrugged. "Nothin'." He smirked again. Tristan briefly wondered it he looked that annoying when he smirked. He quickly decided he couldn't possibly and continued to glare. "Bit of a spitfire, right?"
"I'm sorry, did I misread the sign on the door?" Tristan said angrily. "I don't remember walking into a support group."
"Wow, that's witty. Real intelligent. I can see what she sees in you. I mean besides the clothes that probably cost more than my mom's car. Did ya just find out she was only in it for the money?"
"You have ten seconds and then I'm going to hit you."
"Thanks for the warning." The boy scrunched up the paper towels in his hand and threw them into the bin. "Maybe I'll go talk to her."
"Don't even think about it."
"What you gonna do? Follow through on your threat? Gee, I'm real scared."
"Just so you know," Tristan said, clenching his jaw. "I've already reached the final three seconds of that count down."
"You strugglin' with the last three? 'Cause I can help you out there."
Tristan raised his arm to punch just as the door flew open. He hadn't bargained on Rory Gilmore being ballsy enough to actually enter the gents toilets, but he'd have to rethink his estimation of her. If she ever decided to actually talk to him again. Not that he cared.
"Tristan! What the hell are you doing?"
"Tristan? Gee, that's a pretty name," the other boy said and Tristan raised his arm again.
"Tristan, stop!"
"In case you haven't noticed Gilmore, this is the gents toilets."
"Well, if I see any gentlemen I'll be sure to warn them that there are two apes in the restroom!"
"Hey, what did I do?" the other boy asked.
"I don't know and I don't care, but we're about to be thrown out, again, so I just thought I'd inform you that I'm going to finish looking through the museum and then I'm going home."
She spun on her heel and left, bypassing a rather confused looking business man on her way out. Tristan growled and ran a hand through his hair.
"You plannin' on following her?"
"What's it to you?"
The boy shrugged. "If you don't I might. She's very…"
Tristan chuckled wryly. "You have no idea."
The boy nodded his head. "So…what the hell did you do?"
"I really have no idea."
xxxxx
Nine hours earlier…
Tristan swerved the car into the next lane and fought back the urge to yawn. In demanding that they drive to New York, well, that he drive, he hadn't bargained on Rory being intent on getting there quite so early. In fact, it was only just beginning to get light and they'd already been in the car for over half an hour.
Rory and Max had arrived at his front door that morning and, following a rather complicated and embarrassing conversation with Tristan's father where they had to explain that Luke wasn't Lorelai's husband, but that Max was her fiancé, Tristan and Rory had escaped into the kitchen. Things had been awkward to say the least, but they'd both studiously ignored what had happened the previous evening. He was pretty sure that had made him even angrier. He was fed up pretending.
They had been standing there in uncomfortable silence for less than five minutes before Ellie had barged in, demanded that she be introduced, and then dragged Rory up to her room to meet her dolls. Tristan had actually been rather amused by the whole thing. Rory had been expecting a sweet little girl and, whilst Ellie was often just that, his little sister was always very energetic and demanding first thing in the morning.
By the time they'd actually got into the car and Rory had called Lorelai to warn her about the 'Luke is Mr. Gilmore' thing, they were already running late by Rory's standards. His temper wasn't improving. He was, however, making a concerted effort to ignore the whole thing. As usual.
"So…poetry?" she asked suddenly, surprising him so much that he almost swerved the car off the road. "Please try not to kill us," she screeched, wide-eyed.
He grimaced. "Sorry."
"That's okay. Just drive carefully, please."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
Rory slowly relaxed and turned to smile at him. "So," she said, continuing her previous conversation. "Poetry?"
"What? Girls think it's hot!"
"And so the truth comes out," Rory said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
"Look, that's how it started and I'm not some huge poetry buff, I just…know what I like and some of that stuff's good. I don't read it every night before I go to bed or anything." Rory nodded and he glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze back to the road. "How long have you wanted to ask that?"
"It's hardly been pressing on my mind, I just wondered."
"Fair enough."
"So…" she took a deep breath and snuggled back into the chair. "Have you got any ideas about the dance?"
He smiled. "You asking me to go with you?"
"How did you get that from what I just said?"
"You know, Mary, I'm touched, really I am. I'll have to fight off all my other admirers for you, of course, but, for you? Anything. I'm all yours."
"Oh, boy."
He grinned, knowing they were playing on thin ice, especially after the previous evening. He found he no longer cared. "Seriously, we should go together."
Slowly she nodded. "I-I guess."
"Such overwhelming enthusiasm," he commented dryly.
"I'm sorry, I just…"
"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "Whatever."
"So…" She was trying, but he was damned if he was helping her out this time. "If we do go together, what should we dress up as?"
"Well," he said, letting out a calming breath. "Famous movie couples gives us a lot to play with, but…"
"But? If you say Romeo and Juliet, I'm all for it."
"You are?" he asked curiously.
"Sure, I can watch you kill yourself," she said smugly.
"Alas, sweet Lorelai, with words like that, I die anyway."
"Oh, brother."
"Just getting into the spirit of things. I am, after all, your sweet and dear Romeo."
"We still don't know the parts."
"Last night you didn't want to be director, now you don't want to be Juliet? Make up your mind, Rory."
"What is your problem?"
He grunted. "Nothing. Nothing, as usual."
"Fine."
They sat in silence for a while and he began to feel guilty. That, of course, annoyed him even more, because he had nothing to feel guilty about. Still…
"What about Jareth and Sarah?"
He glanced at her briefly, just in time to see her lips curl into a smile. "Labyrinth?"
He shrugged. "We both love the movie, why not?" He didn't point out that he felt they had a lot in common with the characters. Not that he'd steal her kid brother, or anything, if she had one, but the fact was that Jareth had everything and Sarah still looked down on her. Of course, Jareth never really understood what it was that she wanted, never understood that Sarah didn't want to be falsely treated like a princess and surrounded by lies.
And he couldn't believe he was analysing a damn film.
"Tristan?"
"Huh?"
"I said, that's a great idea."
"Cool."
"Do you want to do the ball scene costumes, or just the ordinary ones?"
He shrugged. "Whatever. I figure your mom might want to make them, so whatever she feels like."
"It means, tights, you know."
He shrugged. "I'll cope."
"It takes a very confident man to wear an outfit like that," she commented.
"Just as well I'm a very confident man, then, isn't it, Mary." He was getting angrier at the fact that she was still ignoring everything, so he took a deep breath and just bit the bullet. "What about Bag Boy?"
"I don't want to talk about him."
"So we're going to keep ignoring it? This? Us?"
"Tristan, there is no-"
"Fine, whatever."
"Fine!"
"Fine."
xxxxx
"And then there was the accident with the codex."
"That was you that set off the alarm this morning?" the boy asked, laughing.
"It was an accident. She was still pissed at me and I…well, there was an incident with a group of Japanese tourists and I knocked against the glass."
"Did they detain you?"
Tristan shook his head. "Nah, one of the guards saw it happen. We were upstairs for about half an hour. That was it."
"That's kinda cool." The boy smirked. "So, this guy of hers sounds like a jerk."
"He is."
"So beat the crap out of him."
Tristan smirked. "I tried that once, guy's the Jolly Green Giant."
The boy shrugged. "So undermine him."
"Oh, I do."
"Piss him off, that'll really do it."
Tristan cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sounds like you're talking from experience."
"You have no idea. So…" The boy looked around. "We're still in the gents. Very Sex in the City."
"Yeah…I'm feeling a bit like I need to go do something manly."
"Good luck with that," the boy said, smirking.
"You're a jerk."
"Feeling's mutual."
He eyed the boy warily for a few minutes. "Tristan DuGrey," he said eventually, holding out his hand and, after a moment, the boy shook it.
"Jess Mariano."
"And I have a 'pretty' name."
"Seriously, keep laughin'."
Tristan grinned. "Well, thanks, Jess. Here's hoping I never see you again."
"Likewise, jackass."
Tristan nodded and they both smirked before heading back out into the museum and going off in opposite directions. Tristan had to find Rory and he had to apologise…for now. He was going to have to be sneaky about it from now on, but he didn't care. He was happy being friends with her, but it wasn't enough anymore. He was falling in love with Rory Gilmore and he knew she felt the same way about him. And Tristan was damned if he was going to be noble about it if that meant losing her forever to some tall freak from Chicago.
Tristan DuGrey would get the girl; he was going to make damned sure of it. Not only that, he was going to make sure that Rory Gilmore wanted it that way.
xxxxx
End of Chapter Eleven
xxxxx
Okay, so, I know; cliché or what: having Tristan and Jess meet in the toilets at the museum? I don't care! I'm not bringing Jess into this one as a whole, but I wanted to have a cameo. I originally had planned for Rory to meet him, but this just kinda happened. As for the ever-so-manly 'heart to heart' in the loos…yeah…sorry, that just happened, too.
Oh, and the teasers I left in the last chapter? Yeah, the 'costume party' is obviously the Autumn dance mentioned above and the others will appear soon, too! ;)
Also, I'm going to try to call Max 'Mr. Medina' in the narration when he's teaching. And for those of you that are thinking…wait a minute, he's teaching his soon-to-be-stepdaughter, that's not allowed…well…just wait.
Hope you enjoyed.
Don't forget to hit the wee review button and tell me what you think!