"I'll get the coffee, you get the table," Tristan said as they entered the busy Starbucks establishment.

Rory spotted a couple vacating a booth and quickly headed towards it. She sat down and took out her cell phone.

*I hope Dean wasn't waiting for me at the bus stop*

"Hello, Dean?"

"Hey, Ror. Where were you today?"

"I had to stop by the mall. Sorry," she apologised.

"Well, will you be home soon?"

"I don't know. Another hour or two, I suppose," she answered.

"Hey, can you hold on a sec? I had someone on the other line," Dean said.

"Sure."
Beep

"Hey, Nanc. So are you coming over or what?  Rory's in Hartford, so we've got the afternoon to ourselves."

"Dean?" Rory's voice quavered.

"Oh, shit! Ror?" came Dean's reply.

Anger took over and she hung up.

"Okay, I've got one super-sized iced mocha with extra whipped cream for you, and a cappuccino for moi," said Tristan, placing each beverage on the table. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's Dean," her bottom lip trembled. "He . . .he . . ."

She burst into tears.

"Hey, hey, shhhh," he said in a comforting voice.  He slid in beside her, placing his arms around her shoulders.  She turned towards him, buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

He stroked her hair reassuringly until the crying stopped and she pulled away.

"You okay?"

"Better," she replied, sniffing. "Sorry about your shirt," she said, noticing the wet patches she left.

He waved his hand as to say, 'Don't worry about it."

The phone rang and Dean's number flashed on the screen.

"Want me to get rid of him?" Tristan asked her.

"No, it'll just make things worse," she said. She picked up the phone and turned it off.

"I'll take you home," he said, moving out of the booth.

She took his hand and gently pulled him back.

"Do you mind if we just talk for a while? I don't really feel like going home just yet."

He slid into the seat opposite her this time.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked her after taking a sip from his coffee.

She unexpectedly laughed. He gave her a confused look.

"You have a foam moustache," she explained. She leaned over the table and whipped Tristan's upper lip with her thumb. Then she flicked the foam at him.

He blinked at the foam that landed on his nose before swiping the whipped cream from Rory's drink and making a nice long streak down her nose.

"Hey, you just wasted perfectly good cream!" she cried indignantly.

Under normal circumstances he would have made some movement to lick the cream off.

"Well, you could try to lick your nose, you know," he said instead.

"Me and whose tongue?" she said rhetorically.

Again Tristan held back another smart comment.

Her tongue stuck out and tried to reach the mass of cream on her nose but it didn't get close.  Tristan watched on with interest at her futile attempt.  She soon gave up and wiped the offending streak off with a napkin.

"That was pathetic, you hardly even tried," Tristan commented.

"Well how far can your tongue reach?" she challenged.

He poked out his tongue and easily touched the tip of his nose with it.

"That's . . . amazing," Rory conceded. "Freak."

"Well, I've had no complaints before." He winked at her.

"Don't wink at me!"

"Why not?"  He leaned back, ready for the onslaught.

"Because that's Old Tristan behaviour," she explained.

"As opposed to?"

"New Tristan behaviour. Duh!"

"Oh, of course. I mean, duh! How stupid of me," Tristan baited. "Care to elaborate?"

"Old Tristan behaviour refers to anything and everything prior to 3pm yesterday. This includes smirking, leering, winking, that leaning thing you do . . ."

"Whoa, what leaning thing?"

"You know, the leaning thing."

"Again, I ask. What leaning thing?"

"You know. The thing. The thing when you lean."

"Well, that clears that up," he said sarcastically. "Examples would be real good right now."

"Okay, okay."  She thought for a second before reeling off the list. "Leaning against my locker, leaning on my desk, leaning from your desk across the aisle to my desk, leaning against the doorframe when I need to pass, leaning against my car door when I bring the jeep. Need more? How about leaning over my shoulder when I'm in the library or cafeteria. Or the one that really bugs me is when you combine the leaning with the smirk. Now you don't want to get me started on that list."

Tristan took a moment to reflect on this.

"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You don't like it when I do the leaning thing."

She whacked him hard on the side of the head.

"Ow, I'll take that as a yes," he said cradling his head. "And speaking of bad attributes, you need to cut down on that violence thing you have going on there, which may or may not be fuelled by your addiction to coffee."

"Oh you did so not just say that! You did not just badmouth coffee in front of me."

"Sure I did."

"Coffee is not evil. It is a gift from the gods as my reward for putting up with you."

"Aahh! I understand now," said Tristan. "So that is why you cling to me so much and follow me around like a puppy."

"What? I do not fol . . ."

"Hey we better get to that store before it closes," Tristan interrupted her.

They both drained the last of their drinks and made their way to the other side of the mall.

Rory convinced him to purchase the crystal decanter and tumbler set.

"It's just sooo James Bond-ish," she had said.

"I'm going to have to take a raincheck on the whole Barnes & Noble experience," said Rory looking at her watch. "I should be getting home."

On the drive to Stars Hollow they sang to the Cranberries, even though neither of them knew many of the words.

As Tristan pulled into the driveway they noticed a frantic Lorelai pacing on the front porch.

"Uh-oh, looks like trouble," said Rory, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Lorelai ran up to the car, pulled the door open and yanked Rory out.

"And where have you been?  I've been worried sick. I've been trying to ring you for two hours. What's wrong with the phone? Dean was here you know.  What's going on?  Who's that?" she demanded, looking at the driver of the car.

"Tristan DuGrey, ma'am" he answered.

Lorelai turned back to Rory.

"What's Evil Tristan doing here?" And then to Tristan, "And what's with the ma'am business. Do I look like my mother? Call me Lorelai."

"Lorelai?" he repeated.

"Yes, Lorelai. As in 'Sorry to have taken your only daughter away for the entire afternoon, thereby scaring you to an early grave, but I sure would like to make it up to you by buying both of you coffee, Lorelai.'"

She pushed Rory back into the passenger seat and got in the back.

"Take a left, then a right, go straight until you hit the gazebo and park," she instructed.

He looked at Rory for confirmation.

"Do as she says unless you want to lose a limb."

Tristan looked in the rear view mirror and saw Lorelai screwing her face up and staring hard back at him. He winced, gulped, and then backed out of the driveway.

Once Lorelai had ordered three sets of coffee, cheeseburgers and fries, she stared in on Rory.

"Now, exactly what is going on with you and Dean, huh? What could possibly posses him to come stampeding into our house asking for you?"

"We broke up," Rory said.

"You broke up?"

"Well, I haven't actually told him that part yet but I think he can figure it out for himself."

"And you'd be breaking up with him because of . . ." her eyes shifted to Tristan at this point.

"Nancy," Rory supplied. Lorelai's eye's snapped back to Rory.

"Nancy?" Lorelai and Tristan said in unison.

Rory filled them in on the phone conversation with Dean.

"That cheating scumbag," Lorelai alleged.

"What kind of name is Nancy, anyway?" Tristan said in disgust.

Lorelai turned back to him.

"And where do you fit in with all of this, hmm?" she asked him.

"Me? Hey, I'm just the innocent bystander. I bought her coffee and gave her a ride home."

"You bought her coffee?" said Lorelai, instantly softening.

AN: Okay, I'm really stuck now. Let me know if u want me to kill any characters off or anything. Just kidding. No deaths in my fics. Sorry about making Dean out to be a bad guy. Just had to get him out of the picture ;)