A/N: Hey, someone remind me next time that it's extremely stupid and INSANE to write a casefile type fic one part at a time. I'm no longer responsible for my actions. You have been warned.
Mendoza looked over the file on Gilmore while traveling to her hometown. She had grown up in Stars Hollow, Connecticut; attended Stars Hollow High School before transferring to Chilton Prep in Hartford in her sophomore year. Graduated from Chilton, valedictorian, then moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts to attend Harvard University. Majored in Journalism, graduated summa cum laude. After graduation, she immediately relocated to Philadelphia to write for Philadelphia Daily News. However, despite the extensive traveling from home, she remained close to her mother and visited home frequently. Mendoza smiled, a plan already forming. It didn't matter if Gilmore was currently in Stars Hollow or not. If her file was any indication, she would be there shortly. He'd make sure of it.
***
Tristin wearily stumbled into his office. He headed straight for the couch he had placed there for exactly that purpose. Often, during investigations, Tristin found that he didn't have the energy, or the patience for that matter, to drive to and from his apartment just to get some sleep. So he would catch a few hours on his couch then go back to work. He was about to flop down on the couch when he saw Rory perched on one end. His concentration on the case had been so intense that he had forgotten she was even there. The surprise on his face was clearly evident to Rory. She was amazed that he could immerse himself so completely in the task at hand. But clearly, he was very good at his job.
"Any leads?" she asked.
"Not a single one," he said dejectedly. "Mendoza's dropped off the face of the planet."
A shrill chirping sound trilled from Tristin's jacket pocket. "Dugrey," he answered. He listened intently for a moment, then his face turned red with rage. "YOU DID WHAT!" he yelled into the phone. With a quick glance at Rory, he got up from the couch and walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
Rory flinched. This definitely didn't look good.
Tristin returned a few minutes later, seething. "Rory, don't be alarmed. This could be nothing. But I want you to call home."
"What? Why?" Rory was completely lost.
"Thompson and Martin dumped the bug before telling me."
"That doesn't seem like a big deal," she ventured.
"But WHERE they dumped it...that's the problem." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "They dumped it in Connecticut, not too far from Hartford. Those idiots!! They didn't give me a chance to tell them that you grew up not too far from there. If Mendoza knows anything about you whatsoever, he'll assume that you went home. He'll look for you there."
"My mother...the whole town. We have to warn them!"
"Here's the problem," said Tristin. "We don't know if Mendoza even took the bait. He could be in Connecticut, that's true. But he could just as easily be at the cabin or on our trail. So here's what I'm asking you to do. I want you to call your mother and see if she's alright. Either way, we're flying to Hartford tonight. But this way, I'll be able to determine if I should contact the Hartford field office for back up or to request them to keep an eye on things, just in case."
He crossed the room and sat next to Rory on the couch. "Look," he said, gently caressing her hands. "I know how hard this is for you. I know how scared you must be. But I have a gut feeling that this will all be over soon."
Rory looked into his eyes. He truly cared about how she felt. Maybe he even cared about her a little. "Alright," she said. "But what do I say to my mom on the phone? Hi Mom, drug dealers are trying to kill me, what's new with you?"
"Just try to find out if there's been any suspicious activity in town recently."
"I'll do my best."
Tristin handed her his office phone. Rory dialed the familiar numbers. She waited anxiously, while the phone continued to ring. Out of nervous agitation, she began to twirl the phone cord around her figure. After what seemed like forever, her mother breathlessly answered the phone. "Hey, Lorelai speaking. Speak quick, my time is valuable."
"Hi Mom."
"Rory! Hey, what's up babe? How are you? Where are you? I tried to call your apartment, but no one answered. So I left five billion messages, but you never called me back," Lorelai pouted.
"Sorry, Mom," Rory apologized, a little confused. How did her mom not know of everything that had happened? "Things have been a little hectic lately."
"So where are you?"
"Well...I'm actually in Washington DC."
"Working on a story?"
"You could say that."
"Have you seen any FBI or CIA agents? If you do, ask them about Roswell. I've always wanted to know what really happened."
"I'll be sure to ask," Rory smiled. Everything seemed to be okay. Life as usual.
"Anyway, the reason I was calling. Some guy is here. He says he went to Harvard with you. He wanted to know how to get in touch with you, but I wanted to call and make sure it was okay first."
Rory's palms began to sweat. "Did he leave his name?" she managed to ask.
"No, but he did mention that you saw him recently in Philly...on Broad Street? Yeah, Broad Street he said."
"When did he come by?"
"Just this morning. In fact, he's staying at the inn."
Rory's eyes went wide with panic. She wordlessly handed the receiver to Tristin.
Tristin had been following Rory's side of the conversation and had a pretty good idea of what was happening. He spoke urgently into the phone. "Ms. Gilmore? This is Tristin Dugrey, Special Agent with the FBI. I'm going to need to ask you some questions."
***
Within the hour, Tristin and Rory were on a plane to Hartford. The field office in Hartford had been informed of the situation. They were already moving into position in the outskirts of Stars Hollow. Lorelai had been warned of the danger that Mendoza presented. The only part of the whole scenario that didn't make sense was why Mendoza hadn't tried anything yet.
***
Rory shifted uncomfortably in her seat. What was about airplanes that no matter what position you sat in, you just couldn't get comfortable. The seats were too close together. The movie was inane and boring. The food sucked. Oh yeah, and there was a drug dealer waiting to kill her at home. Maybe that was it. Why the hell did that jackass have to go to her home? Her beloved town, with it's wonderful people, untouched by the harsh reality of the world. His mere presence desecrated the goodness of the town.
Rory sighed and wished for the plane to land. She wanted to be in Stars Hollow, with her mother, pretending that everything was fine. She wanted to sit at Luke's and play "1-2-3 He's Mine" with her mother and watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She wanted to be a kid again. Being a grown up sucked.
Tristin sensed her restlessness. He patted his shoulder, in an obvious invitation for her to go to sleep. She shook her head. She was too wired to sleep. He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her head to his chest. She relaxed into his body and soon fell into sleep. Tristin leaned his head against hers, content in the moment. Who knows how many more moments of pure bliss he would have. Frankly, he had no idea what to expect in Stars Hollow. But even beyond this case...he was in a dangerous profession. He had never seriously thought about dying before. To him, life was about unlimited time and deadlines to meet. Maybe he should focus more on the moments. Like this one. With the girl of his adolescent dreams, who had somehow grown into the woman of his dreams. If they both managed to survive this thing, Tristin resolved to make some changes in his life. Starting with the woman he couldn't see himself living another day without...
***
Mendoza reclined on his bed at the inn. He stared up at the ceiling, his head propped up on his hands. The plane should be landing any minute now. In another hour or so, they would be driving into town. Then he could put the final phase of this elaborate plan into motion. He would not go to jail. He would never get caught. Not in this lifetime. He would die before he went to jail.
***
Driving down the highway, as the sun was just beginning to set, Tristin made a decision. He abruptly pulled over to the side of the road. Rory looked at him, bewildered. "Are you okay?"
"Promise me something."
She looked at him curiously.
He looked at her, her blue eyes wide and round. And he chickened out. "...Uh, be...careful. Be careful. I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt. So, uh, be careful."
"That goes double for you," she said solemnly. "You've been so great these past few days. You've been my rock. I don't know how I'd have gotten through this without you."
Without another word, Tristin pulled back onto the road and drove. Rory swallowed her disappointment. She thought that he was going to say something else. She had wanted him to say something else. As they drove closer and closer to Stars Hollow, the feeling of dread inside Rory grew bigger and bigger. She just wanted this to be over. When was it going to be over?
Mendoza looked over the file on Gilmore while traveling to her hometown. She had grown up in Stars Hollow, Connecticut; attended Stars Hollow High School before transferring to Chilton Prep in Hartford in her sophomore year. Graduated from Chilton, valedictorian, then moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts to attend Harvard University. Majored in Journalism, graduated summa cum laude. After graduation, she immediately relocated to Philadelphia to write for Philadelphia Daily News. However, despite the extensive traveling from home, she remained close to her mother and visited home frequently. Mendoza smiled, a plan already forming. It didn't matter if Gilmore was currently in Stars Hollow or not. If her file was any indication, she would be there shortly. He'd make sure of it.
***
Tristin wearily stumbled into his office. He headed straight for the couch he had placed there for exactly that purpose. Often, during investigations, Tristin found that he didn't have the energy, or the patience for that matter, to drive to and from his apartment just to get some sleep. So he would catch a few hours on his couch then go back to work. He was about to flop down on the couch when he saw Rory perched on one end. His concentration on the case had been so intense that he had forgotten she was even there. The surprise on his face was clearly evident to Rory. She was amazed that he could immerse himself so completely in the task at hand. But clearly, he was very good at his job.
"Any leads?" she asked.
"Not a single one," he said dejectedly. "Mendoza's dropped off the face of the planet."
A shrill chirping sound trilled from Tristin's jacket pocket. "Dugrey," he answered. He listened intently for a moment, then his face turned red with rage. "YOU DID WHAT!" he yelled into the phone. With a quick glance at Rory, he got up from the couch and walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
Rory flinched. This definitely didn't look good.
Tristin returned a few minutes later, seething. "Rory, don't be alarmed. This could be nothing. But I want you to call home."
"What? Why?" Rory was completely lost.
"Thompson and Martin dumped the bug before telling me."
"That doesn't seem like a big deal," she ventured.
"But WHERE they dumped it...that's the problem." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "They dumped it in Connecticut, not too far from Hartford. Those idiots!! They didn't give me a chance to tell them that you grew up not too far from there. If Mendoza knows anything about you whatsoever, he'll assume that you went home. He'll look for you there."
"My mother...the whole town. We have to warn them!"
"Here's the problem," said Tristin. "We don't know if Mendoza even took the bait. He could be in Connecticut, that's true. But he could just as easily be at the cabin or on our trail. So here's what I'm asking you to do. I want you to call your mother and see if she's alright. Either way, we're flying to Hartford tonight. But this way, I'll be able to determine if I should contact the Hartford field office for back up or to request them to keep an eye on things, just in case."
He crossed the room and sat next to Rory on the couch. "Look," he said, gently caressing her hands. "I know how hard this is for you. I know how scared you must be. But I have a gut feeling that this will all be over soon."
Rory looked into his eyes. He truly cared about how she felt. Maybe he even cared about her a little. "Alright," she said. "But what do I say to my mom on the phone? Hi Mom, drug dealers are trying to kill me, what's new with you?"
"Just try to find out if there's been any suspicious activity in town recently."
"I'll do my best."
Tristin handed her his office phone. Rory dialed the familiar numbers. She waited anxiously, while the phone continued to ring. Out of nervous agitation, she began to twirl the phone cord around her figure. After what seemed like forever, her mother breathlessly answered the phone. "Hey, Lorelai speaking. Speak quick, my time is valuable."
"Hi Mom."
"Rory! Hey, what's up babe? How are you? Where are you? I tried to call your apartment, but no one answered. So I left five billion messages, but you never called me back," Lorelai pouted.
"Sorry, Mom," Rory apologized, a little confused. How did her mom not know of everything that had happened? "Things have been a little hectic lately."
"So where are you?"
"Well...I'm actually in Washington DC."
"Working on a story?"
"You could say that."
"Have you seen any FBI or CIA agents? If you do, ask them about Roswell. I've always wanted to know what really happened."
"I'll be sure to ask," Rory smiled. Everything seemed to be okay. Life as usual.
"Anyway, the reason I was calling. Some guy is here. He says he went to Harvard with you. He wanted to know how to get in touch with you, but I wanted to call and make sure it was okay first."
Rory's palms began to sweat. "Did he leave his name?" she managed to ask.
"No, but he did mention that you saw him recently in Philly...on Broad Street? Yeah, Broad Street he said."
"When did he come by?"
"Just this morning. In fact, he's staying at the inn."
Rory's eyes went wide with panic. She wordlessly handed the receiver to Tristin.
Tristin had been following Rory's side of the conversation and had a pretty good idea of what was happening. He spoke urgently into the phone. "Ms. Gilmore? This is Tristin Dugrey, Special Agent with the FBI. I'm going to need to ask you some questions."
***
Within the hour, Tristin and Rory were on a plane to Hartford. The field office in Hartford had been informed of the situation. They were already moving into position in the outskirts of Stars Hollow. Lorelai had been warned of the danger that Mendoza presented. The only part of the whole scenario that didn't make sense was why Mendoza hadn't tried anything yet.
***
Rory shifted uncomfortably in her seat. What was about airplanes that no matter what position you sat in, you just couldn't get comfortable. The seats were too close together. The movie was inane and boring. The food sucked. Oh yeah, and there was a drug dealer waiting to kill her at home. Maybe that was it. Why the hell did that jackass have to go to her home? Her beloved town, with it's wonderful people, untouched by the harsh reality of the world. His mere presence desecrated the goodness of the town.
Rory sighed and wished for the plane to land. She wanted to be in Stars Hollow, with her mother, pretending that everything was fine. She wanted to sit at Luke's and play "1-2-3 He's Mine" with her mother and watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She wanted to be a kid again. Being a grown up sucked.
Tristin sensed her restlessness. He patted his shoulder, in an obvious invitation for her to go to sleep. She shook her head. She was too wired to sleep. He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her head to his chest. She relaxed into his body and soon fell into sleep. Tristin leaned his head against hers, content in the moment. Who knows how many more moments of pure bliss he would have. Frankly, he had no idea what to expect in Stars Hollow. But even beyond this case...he was in a dangerous profession. He had never seriously thought about dying before. To him, life was about unlimited time and deadlines to meet. Maybe he should focus more on the moments. Like this one. With the girl of his adolescent dreams, who had somehow grown into the woman of his dreams. If they both managed to survive this thing, Tristin resolved to make some changes in his life. Starting with the woman he couldn't see himself living another day without...
***
Mendoza reclined on his bed at the inn. He stared up at the ceiling, his head propped up on his hands. The plane should be landing any minute now. In another hour or so, they would be driving into town. Then he could put the final phase of this elaborate plan into motion. He would not go to jail. He would never get caught. Not in this lifetime. He would die before he went to jail.
***
Driving down the highway, as the sun was just beginning to set, Tristin made a decision. He abruptly pulled over to the side of the road. Rory looked at him, bewildered. "Are you okay?"
"Promise me something."
She looked at him curiously.
He looked at her, her blue eyes wide and round. And he chickened out. "...Uh, be...careful. Be careful. I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt. So, uh, be careful."
"That goes double for you," she said solemnly. "You've been so great these past few days. You've been my rock. I don't know how I'd have gotten through this without you."
Without another word, Tristin pulled back onto the road and drove. Rory swallowed her disappointment. She thought that he was going to say something else. She had wanted him to say something else. As they drove closer and closer to Stars Hollow, the feeling of dread inside Rory grew bigger and bigger. She just wanted this to be over. When was it going to be over?