Title: Imagine Me Without You
Chapter 11: Freddie Prinze, Jr. Awaits
Notes: June 4, 2002 - It has been a long wait for the next chapter in this fanfic. For that, I apologize. I seek to finish this fic, even if I'll be 100 years old. I did have chapters 11 and 12 ready to go but I lost the files when I got a new computer. Thus, I don't really know where my fic should head. I would appreciate any suggestions. So for now, enjoy :)
Email: gigi@xquisite.net


Chapter 11: Freddie Prinze, Jr. Awaits

Rory was a little bit too eager for her date with Tristan. She had waken up at the break of dawn, pacing up and down and around and about the Gilmore shack, not sure of what she was looking for and why. Nervous was not the word for her dilemma --- heart attack was more like it. Needless to say, as the hours went by, the rumbling feeling in her stomach only got worse. After two good hours of thrashing out her modest closet, she came out empty handed. Dammit Rory. When a girl says she can't have enough clothes, you sure are not in the running for it.

Now 4 in the afternoon, Rory placed herself in the middle of her bedroom. Nothing was ready. No outfit, no makeup, not even a shower! Lorelai, however, situated herself at the petite desk, playing Counterstrike on the laptop. Clearing her throat to nab Lorelai's attention didn't work. Hovering over her shoulder, Rory slammed the laptop's monitor down on top of her keeper's idle hands.

"Hey! May I remind you that I bought this thing for you?" screamed Lorelai.

"Yeah. That you did."

"Well, it doesn't cover PMS! What's gotten into you?"

"Well?!"

"Well, what?"

She couldn't take it anymore. Jumping on top of her bed, Rory raised the quilt over her head and buried herself within it.

"Ooh,", Lorelai squealed, "you made a tent! I wanna join!" Running over to the bed, she laid beside her daughter under the quilt.

"Get out." Rory whined.

"Oh, someone's not a happy camper. Now bust."

Pulling the quilt off of both of them, Rory sat up.

"I have nothing to wear."

A silence took over the room until Lorelai burst out in laughter.

"This isn't a funny matter, you hobbit! Seriously, I have nothing to wear!" Rory wailed as Lorelai snorted through giggles.

"Child, you have a wardrobe worth gold in that closet of yours. You're telling me you have abosoulutely-tootely-nothing to wear?

Gritting her teeth through glares, she managed to mumble, "Nothing. Nothing nothing NOTHING!"

Pushing herself up, Lorelai rolled off the bed and ran out of the room. Rory could hear her mother's thumps up the stairs and straight back down. Only this time, when Lorelai returned, she had two hefty EXPRESS bags in her hands. She handed them to Rory, who in amazement, smiled for the first time in hours.

Inside the bags were oodles of peasant shirts, low-rise capris and jeans, skirts, bangles, jackets, and all sorts of stuff. It was a matter of picking out what to wear now, that was a problem. First there wasn't enough to search through. Now there was too much.

"Ror, just take a shower and I'll pick out what you should wear." Before Rory could reply, Lorelai handed her a towel and shooed her out of the room. Rory knew Lorelai had good taste in clothes but often times the things Lorelai wore, were things she would never imagine wearing herself. Crossing her fingers, she marched her way to the bathroom.

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"Tristan, may I speak with you please?"

Summoned by his father, Tristan managed to tear himself away from the bathroom mirror. He was only clad in a towel, several droplets still draped over his broad shoulders and chest.

"Tristan, any time now. Before I die, please. I'm sure you would prefer it to be that way." Christian Dugrey didn't like to repeat himself. Sitting back into the plush recliner, he waited for his son to walk in. Placing the newspaper in his hands onto his lap, he saw Tristan in the doorway, who looked out of breath, still buttoning his navy-blue checkered shirt. Tristan's blonde tresses were growing out, Christian noted, which were slightly damp.

"You rang?" Tristan forced himself to smirk. When his father asked for him, he was sure he had to be prompt and always be on time. Even if he just did jump out of the shower.

"You're going out?" Christian mused.

"Uh, yeah." Tristan straightened his shirt and coiled onto his neck the strand of white puka shells. He hadn't made eye-contact yet with his father.

"You're going out?" Christian mused, once more.

"Dad, you pulled me out of the shower to just to tell me that I'm going out? You couldn't wait?"

"No." Christian smirked and brought up the newspaper once more. Tristan stood there, rolling back on heel, waiting for any further inquiries. When he was sure no more was to be said, he turned around and was ready to bolt out the door.

"Be home by 12."

In mid-step, Tristan stopped and turned around. "What?" Please tell me I can still go. Please. Please. Please?!

"Be home by 12."

"That's it? Nothing else? Be home by 12? Don't pick up a prostitute and just be home by 12-12?" Tristan was amused.

"That's it. Be home by 12. I mean, unless you want to be home earlier." He looked above his newspaper and saw his son's shocked expression. Keeping his cool, the two made eye-contact and settled. Christian had great faith that his son would be home in time and Tristan didn't want to waste another minute being without Rory.

Adjusting his collar, Tristan walked out the door. "No problem."

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"Ok, just let me place one more pin in your hair. Don't move." Lorelai ran out of Rory's room in search for more bobby pins.

It was hard for her not to move. She was a nervous wreck. The warm shower soothed her a bit, but not much. Lorelai was pinning Rory's hair up, something she wasn't used to. Her chestnut locks always framed her face, accentuating her azure eyes. Azure, Rory said outloud in the empty room. Azure, she said once more. The color of the sky. You can see the sky in Tristan's eyes. She thought of how clear and soft they were, yet at the same time, deep and bold. How was that possible? Rory couldn't help but stifle a laugh. You can see the sky in Tristan's eyes?! Rory, you kill yourself sometimes. Silly girl. She smiled softly, reminiscing of how nice it was, just to stare into his eyes. Startled out of her revery, Lorelai dumped more stuff onto the bed beside her.

"You said you just had to put one more pin in my hair and you brought all of that with you?!" Rory saw a curling iron, hair straightener, more bobby pins, hairspray, mouse, and other hair products displayed over her quilt.

"I said one pin? Oh, I meant one pin and a hair dresser." Standing behind her daughter, she slipped in the last pin into the mess of soft-brown curls.

"Stop fidgeting!" Lorelai held one hand over her daughter's face as she lightly sprayed a bit of hairspray with the other hand onto Rory's hair. For some odd reason, even with the hand over Rory's face, Lorelai could tell she had on a scowl.

"I can't!" Rory spit back.

"Why?" After spraying the whole canister, she motioned for Rory to stand up.

"I-, I just can't. I'm nervous."

Rory stood in front of the vanity mirror, admiring her attire. She wore a white off-the-shoulder peasant top with low-rise denim capris. Lorelai tied around Rory's hips a suede tie-belt with a summery-peach rose hanging off the side. Although the wardrobe was simple, Rory would have never thought of it herself. Rory wasn't a jewelry person (and Lorelai new this) but the outfit wouldn't be complete without a simple pair of silver-hoop earrings.

"Well, for a girl who costed $95.87, you don't look nervous to me." Lorelai stood to the side, twitching her nose to see if anything was out of place. There wasn't.

After a brief clause, Lorelai motioned Rory out of the bedroom and to the living room. They both plopped themselves on the couch and Lorelai pulled out her make-up bag. Rory backed off.

"Mom, please, no more. It actually hurts."

Lorelai giggled and pulled Rory back. "Make-up doesn't hurt anybody. Your wardrobe didn't, right?"

True. Rory lessened her intensity and relaxed. Lorelai swooshed the brush of her peach lip gloss and cupped her hand under Rory's chin. Rory parted her lips apart and Lorelai began her magic.

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Ok, Tristan. It's now or never. You've waited, no-, you've LONGED for this date. Don't mess up. Don't be something you're not. Wait, Tristan stopped. Don't be something you're not? Geeze, that's genius. Whatever. Just, just--- don't try so hard. There. He said it. He gripped the steering wheel a bit harder, looking into his eyes in the rear-view mirror. He had been awake all morning, stressing over the tiniest details of their would-be-date. The date was nearing and he wanted it to be perfect, because she was the embodiment of perfection. When he was in military school, he had dreamt of her. Wanting her more. Needing her more. He had come to the realization that unlike fables, life didn't always smile right back at you. Maybe tonight, it would. She would. She always did.

"Son, if you actually want to make it home by 12, you actually have to leave."

Snapping out of his requiem, he rolled his window down and saw his father standing there. Christian had noticed his son had been sitting in his beamer for the past 20 minutes. Embarassed, Tristan started the ignintion this time.

"I knew that."

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"Ok, open your eyes!" Lorelai zipped up her makeup bag and pulled out a mirror for Rory to gaze in. Slowly opening her eyes, Rory saw something to awe over. Lorelai had done a miracle.

"Mom!"

"Yes?"

"You made me look beautiful." Her eyes were highlighted with a soft-gold shadow with a tinge of charcoal eyeliner and hints of gold glitter. Her lips were dipped in a sweet-peach color. Her cheeks smudged with a healthy-bronze color.

"Honey, you are beautiful. I just hit you with the pretty stick. 6 times. With a 100-dollar charge."

"Mom!"

"I'm kidding." She smiled, not because of what she had helped out Rory. But, because she was so happy to see her daughter smiling, so happy. "We have time for gossip. So...spill!" Lorelai clapped her hands and patted the seat behind herself. Rory sat down and the two sat back on the cushions.

"Mom, you know when Freddie Prinze, Jr. stares at Rachel Leigh Cook when she comes down the stares in She's All That?"

"Yeah?"

"I wished someone would look at me like that."

"Someone already does. Except your Freddie has blonde hair."

Rory was well aware of that someone but was confused when it came to him. He gave her the tingles. The night of the fight-fiasco with card-dealer-man made her realize how strong those tingles were. He captured her --- he would capture her while she was wide awake and dreaming. All he had to do was whisper her name into her ear and she would be flattered to pieces. He was here to stay now. When her world had been crumbling down, he was the miracle that showed up on time.

DING DONG!

Rory and Lorelai exchanged looks of excitement and nervousness. The two got up but Lorelai pushed Rory rather hard torwards the doorway, causing her to nearly fall down.

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Rory turned around to see a laughing Lorelai. Lorelai mouthed a 'sorry'.

Ready or not, he's here. She was ready to twist the doorknob when Lorelai pulled her back.

"Mom, what are you doing?!" Rory squeeled as low as possible.

"Go upstairs."

"Why?" She looked at her mother like a mad woman. "You just---"

"No 'why' young lady. Get upstairs." Lorelai pointed her finger up the stairs and Rory followed. Lorelai looked up the stairs to see if Rory was peeking. When she wasn't in sight, Lorelai went to the door and opened the door.

"Hiiiiiiiii! Come on in!" Before Tristan could say 'Lorelai', he was yanked into the house.

Slightly flustered, Tristan smiled at the older Gilmore. "Hi to you, too, Lorelai."

"Mmm, you smell good." Lorelai gave him a wink. "Rory's almost done. She'll be down soon." Lorelai, she's been done.

When 10 minutes passed, Lorelai cleared her throat out, loud...twice. It was Rory's cue to come down. Closing her eyes, Rory reminded herself that she was ready. Making her way down the steps seemed like forever, even though there were just exactly 18 steps. On the 9th step, she saw Tristan, staring in awe right back at her. She was sure that she was blushing. Gosh, it seems like a movie. Except, this is real.

"He does it very well." Lorelai winked at Rory.

When Rory finally made her way down the "flight of stairs", she stood in front of Tristan. Their gaze hadn't yet been broken. Slipping her arm into his, the two walked towards the doorway. Lorelai handed Rory a small purse and her denim jacket.

Looking up, Rory couldn't help but say it. "You do that Freddie Prinze, Jr. thing really well."

Tristan let out a small chuckle. "I do what really well?"

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