Well. Some of you may remember this story from months back, and I'm sorry
to say that I have yet to update past part two. I'm suffering from a
monumental case of writer's block, and while I know where I'm going with
this fic, I'm having trouble actually getting there. I'm hoping that
having this story posted in a new place with new readers will motivate me
to get going on the actual writing. Part three is *gasp* mostly done, so
as soon as I stop procrastinating it'll be up ( read: anywhere from a week
to a month. ) So enjoy, and feel free to drop me a line if you have
suggestions or comments. Note – this takes place right after the Break-up:
Part 2 ( Yeah, drag those minds waaaaay back to Season 1, guys. It's a
long trip.) For the purposes of this fic, nothing beyond Break-up has
happened.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rory Gilmore spun the combination of her lock, and yanked. Nothing. She scowled, and flipped the numbers again. This time, the lock opened, but when she tried the locker it stuck. Rory sighed in frustration. Experience had taught her not to yank too hard on the lockers. The results tended toward the disastrous. Now, she had to find a janitor to open her locker for her, which meant that she would waste her free period. Fabulous.
A hand slid past her shoulder and thumped her locker twice. It creaked open, much to her delight. Rory spun around, a grateful smile on her lips, which quickly faded when she caught sight of her momentary savior. She quickly dropped her gaze, flushing. Tristan Dugray leaned against the locker next to hers, no trace of his signature smirk on his lips.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Rory pulled a textbook from her locker and slammed it shut.
"I'm not avoiding you." She started down the hall, Tristan keeping pace easily at her side.
"Really."
"That's what I said." Tristan caught hold of her shoulder, effectively stopping her.
"Rory, come on. We've had three classes together. And at the end of each one, you've just happened to slip out before I could talk to you. That's called avoidance." Rory met his eyes reluctantly.
"I'm sorry." Tristan dropped his hand from her shoulder.
"We need to talk, Rory." She nodded.
"Okay. Do you want to go to the library? I have a free period."
"Yeah. Sure." They walked quickly to the library in awkward silence. Tristan pushed the door open and held it as Rory followed him in, heading straight for the biography section. She immediately began scanning the shelves.
"What are you looking for?" Tristan asked over her shoulder. Rory answered without taking her eyes from the shelves.
"A biography on James Joyce. I need it for American Lit." Tristan nodded and began browsing through the rack next to her. After a few minutes, Rory emerged triumphant with not one but two books.
"The Portable Dorothy Parker." Tristan examined the second book. "Good choice." Rory glanced at him in surprise.
"You've read it?"
"Yeah. I like the New Yorker." Rory nodded.
"Me too. We had a subscription, but I think it died a lingering death a few years ago." Their eyes locked for a moment.
"Rory."
"Yeah."
"We still need to talk." Rory broke the gaze.
"I know." She sank down into a big wooden armchair. Tristan half- sat, half-leaned on the table in front of her, hands in his pockets. "Don't you need to get a biography for American Lit. too?" She avoided looking at him.
"Rory."
" 'Cause if you do, you should get it now before all the good authors are gone."
"Rory, come on." Tristan reached out and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. There was a shimmer of something in her large blue eyes. Their gazes locked for a moment before Rory pulled away.
"It was a mistake, Tristan. It never should have happened." Tristan released his breath.
"Right. It was a rebound thing. You had just broken up with Dean, I had just broken up with Summer-" Rory nodded.
"Exactly. Rebound. It didn't mean anything."
"Okay."
"Okay." Tristan ran a hand through his spiky, tousled blonde hair.
"Rory, I really am sorry I've been a jerk to you." Rory shrugged.
"It's ok. Just don't make it a habit." Tristan laughed softly.
"I won't." He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She was sitting like a little kid, knees together but feet apart, tips of her shoes pointed in. She was leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees, long, silky dark hair swinging forward from barrettes to brush her cheeks. He wondered if it was unconscious, or if she did it on purpose to hide her face. He was startled out of his reverie by Rory's voice.
"Tristan?"
"Yeah?" She swallowed.
"Can we be friends?" The question made Tristan's heart ache. He managed to control his euphoria and smile at her. A real smile.
"We can if you want us to." Pain flashed in her eyes, so briefly he thought he'd imagined it. Her voice, when she answered, was low.
"I do." Tristan nodded.
"Then we are."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"No!" Lorelai Gilmore dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and leaned forward, wide-eyed.
"Yes." Rory smiled, amused. Lorelai's jaw dropped.
"Amazing. Did he hypnotize you?" Rory gave her a look.
"We've reached an understanding." Lorelai leaned in again.
"Really! Tell me more. Was there kicking and biting involved?" Rory grinned triumphantly.
"Nope. Just two civilized people having a logical conversation." Lorelai sat back and shook her head in admiration.
"You have got to teach me to do that sometime."
"Remind me next weekend." Lorelai nodded.
"I'll put it on the calendar." There was a brief silence as Lorelai sorted mail and Rory set the timer for the oven pizza. It was movie night again, although this time the movie selection was Dirty Dancing, with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. Lorelai played around with various papers for a few minutes, throwing glances toward an oblivious Rory. Finally she set down the papers with a sigh and stood up, going to look over Rory's shoulder at the pizza.
"This doesn't have anything to do with Dean, does it?" Rory looked up.
"How would becoming friends with Tristan have anything to do with Dean?" Lorelai shrugged and picked up a pixie stick from the large bag of junk food on the table and began using it to gesticulate.
"I don't know. If you were getting to know Tristan to rebound off Dean. If this is another ill-fated attempt to not wallow. If you're doing it to make Dean jealous." Rory's eyes were on the pixie stick as it dropped and weaved frantically through the air with Lorelai's airy hand gestures. At the last suggestion, her head snapped up.
"Mom, I wouldn't do that to Tristan. This has nothing to do with Dean, ok? We're just friends. Nothing else." Lorelai studied her for a moment, then let the matter drop.
"Allright. If you're sure you don't want to talk." Rory nodded. Lorelai rubbed her hands together. "Okay! You get the pizza, I'll get the sugar, let's get moving here. Hustle!" The two women hurried through the kitchen, throwing themselves onto the sofa armed with pounds of junk food. For several minutes the only sounds to be heard were the crunching of two mouths and the dialogue from the movie.
"Hey, does Kelly Bishop ever remind you of Grandma?" Lorelai blinked, sat up and peered closely at the screen, the turned to Rory.
"You know, she really does. Huh. My mother looks like someone in Dirty Dancing. Who would have thought." Rory shrugged and went back to watching the movie.
"Anything can happen."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"All right class, we will be starting a new unit today. Now that we've finished the anatomy of the brain, we will begin on the many ways the brain is influenced." Ms. Richter surveyed her tenth grade Psychology class. Most of them were only half-awake, as Psychology was first period. She could see several only half open eyes, and a few rather severe cases of bed-head. "I can see you're all terribly excited. In the light of the Head- Master's recent request that I organize the class around a hands-on experience for you, I have taken the liberty to devise a project . Over the space of the next two days-" There was a simultaneous groan from the entire class. "Yes, I realize it's the weekend. You will each visit the home of one of your classmates for twenty-four hours. Then, you will switch, and your partner will visit your home for twenty-four hours. After the project, you will each give a presentation on how your partner has been influenced by his or her home life.
"Seeing how this project imposes upon your parents to house another student for a day and night, I will require each of you to bring in a permission slip. In addition, Lorelai Gilmore and Tristan Dugray, each of you must have one of your parents call me to affirm that they approve of the project, as the two of you are the only male/female pair. The rest of the pairs are same sex as follows: Madeline DeFacchi and Louise Montgomery, Jonathan Winterbrough and Todd Willams..."
Rory Gilmore sat in shock. I could've sworn she just said Lorelai Gilmore and Tristan Dugray. But that's impossible. It....it just.... She looked across the room and her cheeks flamed when she met Tristan's eyes.
"You will now meet with your partner to begin work on the questionnaire I have designed for you. It is to be turned in on Monday when you give your presentation. You will work on the assumption that your parents will agree to this, so start deciding whose home to visit first, et cetera. You have the rest of the period." Immediately, the class erupted in chatter as Ms. Richter passed out the questionnaires and people began pairing up. Rory took a breath and risked a glanced at Tristan.
He was walking toward her, not quite achieving his usual look of detached mockery. He sat down next to her and offered her a shaky smirk.
"Some class, huh." She noticed his cheeks were flushed, also.
"Yeah. Some class." Tristan broke the semi-awkward silence by pulling two sheets of paper out of his bookbag.
"Ms. Richter gave me the questionnaires. We can get started on them now and then finish up over the weekend."
"Okay. Okay, let's do that." Rory nodded determinedly and took the paper Tristan held out. She scanned the rows of questions. "Wow. Some of these are really personal." Tristan looked at his sheet.
"You can say that again. Uh, Okay. Question number one. Who do you look up to, and why?" He looked up at Rory and saw her small smile.
"That's an easy one. My mother. She's spent the last sixteen years fighting so that I get every opportunity. She's built an amazing life out of a bad situation, and sacrificed so much so that I have the best possible life. She's my hero. Or heroine, I guess." She stopped to look at Tristan. He looked surprised, and a little wistful. "What?" He blinked.
"Nothing. You just seem to have a really great relationship with your Mom." Rory nodded.
"She's my everything."
"You're lucky." Their eyes locked over the paper for a few seconds until Rory cleared her throat and looked down at her paper.
"How about you? Who's your role model?" Tristan shrugged.
"I never really thought about it. There are so many influential people." Rory leaned her chin on her hand and watched him think. "My grandfather."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He writes a lot. When I was a little kid, he used to read me a lot of his stories. He was my only relative who ever did anything with me because he wanted to, not because he had to." Tristan looked up and met Rory's eyes. There was a strange look on her face.
"What?" Rory blinked and looked down.
"Nothing. I think I need to re-evaluate my opinion of you." Tristan looked at her warily.
"Is that good or bad?" Rory shrugged.
"I haven't decided yet. I'll let you know when I figure it out, though." Tristan nodded.
"I'd appreciate that. Thanks." Their eyes met, and they both smiled. The bell rang, and they both stood up. " So, do you want to start at my house or yours?"
"I really don't care. Whichever."
"Can we start at yours? I'll come over in the morning, and then we can move on to my house Sunday morning."
"Cool." Rory smiled. Oddly, the first session hadn't gone too badly. Then they both reached for the doorknob at the same time. Their hands brushed, and they both jumped back. Tristan gave her a look she couldn't decipher.
"This is going to be a hell of a weekend."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Tristan."
"Yep."
"That's wrong."
"At least I don't hate him anymore."
"The girl has a point."
"I'm gonna go read."
"So you're cool with this."
"Totally."
"Okay." Rory got up and went into the living room, holding her breath and counting mentally. Before she got to twelve, Lorelai had followed her in out of the kitchen. She plopped down on the couch beside her daughter.
"Okay, now that we're done with the obligatory 'Honey-are-you-ok-yes- mom-I'm-fine,' how are you really feeling?" Rory tucked one leg beneath her and turned to look at her mom. She twirled a strand of long, straight dark hair around her fingers.
"I'm not sure, exactly. I feel...weird. I'm so used to hating him, and them when we actually sit down and talk, it feels strange." Lorelai sighed, and brushed a strand of hair away from Rory's face.
"It's going to feel weird. You guys became friends under the most awkward of circumstances. I mean, you made the leap from detestable jerk to potential friend in the space of a week and a kiss, Rory."
"True. But hey, I like a challenge, right?"
"Hey, if we're done with the heart-to-heart, I've got a really cool challenge."
"Really? Does it involve finding the phone book to call for pizza? 'Cause I'm hungry."
"Ahh, you read my mind. You get a ten point bonus if you find the phone so we can order."
"Once we find the number." Lorelai threw up her hands in amazement.
"What a smart child."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tristan Dugray turned onto the road to Stars Hollow in a good mood. The shade of the trees was a novelty not often experienced in his part of the neighborhood, where every tree that might approximate shade-worthy height was chopped down for fear of creating a suburban appearance. Tristan smiled grimly. His mother said the word suburb like it was a curse. Both his parents were dying to live in a big city, and be recognized as fashionable, modern additions to society. He personally thought it was a load of shit. Tristan liked Connecticut just fine, which seemed to be a fluke in the family.
Coming out of his reverie, Tristan made a left onto what appeared to be the main street of Stars Hollow. He checked the scrap of paper with Rory's address on it for the fifth time, even though he'd already memorized it. Right onto Peach Street, down the block, make a left, it's the white house with the porch. He stopped the car in front and just sat for a moment, gathering his nerves. Opening the door, Tristan stepped out of the car and slowly made his way up the lawn, unconsciously admiring the rambling house with its flowers and large trees and general relaxing feeling. As soon as he knocked, he heard feet walking to the door and tensed.
The door to the Gilmore residence opened onto the smiling face of the senior Lorelai Gilmore. She smiled brightly at Tristan's somewhat nervous expression.
"Hi! You must be Tristan! I'm Lorelai. Not your Lorelai. She's Rory. I'm Mom-Lorelai. Excuse me, I haven't had my coffee yet. Rory's upstairs drying her hair. She didn't know when you'd be here, so I told her to take a shower and wow, looks like I was off by about five minutes! Would you like a donut? Your mouth is hanging open." Tristan shut his mouth and stared as Lorelai, Senior chattered happily, ushering him inside and forcibly putting him into a chair in the kitchen. He interrupted her briefly.
"Uh, Ms. Gilmore?" Lorelai looked up from her coffee-machine.
"It's Lorelai. If you make me feel old before my time you shall regret it." Tristan swallowed.
"Lorelai it is. Where should I put my bag?" Lorelai frowned.
"You'll have to ask Rory." As the words left her mouth, their subject appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dark hair piled on top of her head with a clip so as not to dampen her white tank top and jeans. She stopped in the doorway and couldn't help but smirk slightly at the bright look on her mother's face and the terrified look on Tristan's.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Scaring your classmate." Lorelai said cheerfully.
"Desist, please."
"You got it. Meet you at Luke's in twenty minutes? I'll save you a muffin." Lorelai wheedled.
"Thanks."
"No prob. Nice meeting you, Tristan." She smiled sweetly and bounced out the door. Tristan looked thoroughly relieved and astonished at the same time. Rory tried not to laugh at him as she poured herself a coup of coffee.
"Want some?" She gestured to the pot. Tristan blinked and looked at her.
"Yeah, thanks." Rory poured another mug and set in down in front of him. She watched, amused, as he tried to erase the dazed expression from his face.
"She has that affect on a lot of people." She offered. Tristan laughed slightly and shook his head.
"I have never in my life met someone like that. I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck." Rory sipped her coffee and pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes as the conversation dwindled and quickly became an awkward silence. "Uh, so where should I put my stuff?" Rory released her breath, glad for the break in the silence.
"Just bring it into the living room. I'll set up the couch for you." She watched him for a moment, out of the corner of her eye, to see his reaction. It was disappointing. Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it, having thought better of his decision. He shouldered his bookbag and followed Rory into the living room as she spread sheets and blankets onto the sofa.
"There," she said, smoothing the sheets. "That should-" The ringing of the telephone cut her off. "Don't move," she ordered Tristan. He froze, but gave her a skeptical look.
"Why?"
"I have to find the phone. You might step on it." He nodded warily, easing himself onto the couch and out of harm's way as Rory retrieved the phone from beneath an immense stack of magazines and held it to her ear. His first fifteen minutes in the Gilmore house, and he might never be the same.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hello?"
"Is he there?" Rory smiled.
"Hey, Lane."
"Hi, Rory. Is he there?"
"Yes, he's here."
"Oooh, cool. When can I come over?" Rory looked at her watch.
"We're going to Luke's in five minutes. Meet you there?"
"Yep." Rory hung up and turned to Tristan, tossing the phone onto a chair, where it promptly sank from view beneath an enormous mass of pillows.
"You know, if you actually hung it up, you might not have to do a search-and-rescue every time it rings." Tristan pointed out. Rory gave him a look.
"Get your jacket. We're going to Luke's."
"Luke's?" Rory nodded emphatically.
"Luke makes the best coffee on the face of the Earth. I mean, if you want, you could just stay here, but you'd really be missing out." Tristan shrugged and got up.
"Let's go."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tristan glanced around nervously as he walked beside Rory down Main street.
"I feel like everybody's staring at me." Rory laughed.
"That's because they are. Stars Hollow has a very active gossip circle. That's Taylor, the bald guy watching from across the street-" she pointed, and as soon as Tristan looked Taylor was on the phone and dialing. "-see, now that he's got a description of you, he's going to call the rest of the circle to tell them that there's a tall blonde guy, about six feet tall, blue eyes, walking with Rory Gilmore, headed in the approximate direction of Luke's." Tristan stared at her.
"You're serious."
"Yep." He shook his head.
"In my neighborhood, someone would sue you if you did that."
"Why?" He shrugged.
"People are really protective of their personal business." Rory nodded. They walked until the reached Luke's.
"Here it is. Luke's, home of the happy coffee." Tristan looked up at the sign, confused.
"Why does it say it's a hardware store?"
"That's just Luke. It used to be a hardware store, but Luke never took the sign down. The town beautifying committee hates him because he says he likes it there." She pushed the door open and began sliding through the throngs of people to their usual table. Lorelai was already there, sipping a large cup of coffee and harboring three muffins on a napkin next to her mug. She smiled when she saw the two and patted the chairs across from her. Rory and Tristan sat down, careful not to touch or brush against each other. Lorelai set a muffin in front of each of them as Luke materialized by their table. He stared at Tristan.
"Who're you?"
"He's a classmate of mine. We have a psychology project to work on." Rory said. Luke looked at Tristan suspiciously over his order pad.
"Whaddaya want?" Rory scanned the menu.
"I'll have coffee and pancakes. Oh, and could you put that yummy whipped cream on top? Or was that just a 'I'm feeling sorry for Rory, so I'll give her anything she wants' kind of thing?" Luke smirked.
"Don't push your luck." He glanced at Tristan. "What about you?"
"Just coffee. I'll work on the muffin, too." Luke shrugged and started to walk away. Lorelai smiled sweetly.
"Uh, Luke? You forgot me."
"No more coffee."
"Who said I want coffee?" Luke gave her a disbelieving look.
"You always want coffee." Their bickering faded into the general background noise as Lorelai got up and trailed Luke into the kitchen. Rory played with a napkin as Tristan ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. Rory was half-grateful, half-nervous to see the flashy form of Miss Patty bustling toward their table.
"Rory, honey! How are you!" She didn't wait for an answer as she closed in on Tristan. "My, who is this handsome young man?" Rory hid a smile behind her muffin.
"Miss Patty, this is Tristan Dugray. We're working on a project this weekend. Tristan, this is Miss Patty. She used to be a dancer, and now she teaches." Tristan nodded warily.
"It's nice to meet you." Patty winked at him.
"Anytime you need a lesson is how to shake your booty, you just come and see me."
"Uh, sure." She patted his butt and turned to Rory, who was trying not to snort into her coffee at the color of Tristan's face.
"You sure like them tall, honey! He's a cute one." Rory shook her head emphatically.
"Oh, no, Miss Patty, it's not like that at all! We have to work on a Psychology project." Patty winked knowingly and bustled off. Now both Rory's and Tristan's faces were red, although only Tristan still had a look of shock painted on his.
"She pinched my butt!" Rory shrugged, trying to keep a straight face.
"Miss Patty's kind of the town flirt. Don't take it personally." Tristan stared at her. Lorelai bounced triumphantly back to the table, coffee mug in hand, as Rory smothered her giggles. She sat down across from them and extended a hand to Tristan.
"Tristan, right? Sorry I scared you. I'm Rory's mom, Lorelai." Tristan shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you. I thought he wouldn't give you any more." He nodded toward Lorelai's brimming cup. She glanced fondly at Luke's back and smiled.
"Luke'll do anything if you ask right. All he needed was a little push in the right direction, and poof! Instant coffee." Rory nodded understandingly.
"You sneaked behind the counter while Miss Patty distracted him, didn't you?" Lorelai mock glared at her.
"Hey! That's privileged information, young lady. Not to be revealed to outside sources. But hey, speaking of outside sources..." Rory looked up in time to see Lane push open the door. She came over and dropped into the chair next to Lorelai and surveyed Tristan, who gave her his signature arrogant, charming half-smirk. He smiled when Lane appeared properly won over. Rory looked at him suspiciously. She hadn't seen the smirk in over twenty-four hours. Now Tristan seemed to be regressing.
"So you're Tristan. Nice to meet you."
"I think I saw you at Madeline's party. You were dancing with Henry, right?" Lane smiled.
"Yeah. I must have missed you. Rory-" Lane turned to her best friend. " I can only stay for a few minutes. My mom wants me to finish my Korean school work, but I'll try and come over later, okay?" Rory nodded.
"I'll come with you to the counter to order." The two girls stood up and edged out from the table, leaving Tristan looking slightly apprehensive at the idea of being alone with Lorelai. Lane smiled at Tristan over her shoulder.
"It was great to meet you." Tristan smiled back.
"Yeah, same." Rory glanced over her shoulder and glared at her mother, who was eyeing Tristan and lazily stirring her coffee with her spoon, a bright smile on her face.
"Be good." Lorelai waved a hand at her dismissively, flashing an innocent look.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorelai stirred her coffee with a spoon and gazed patiently at Tristan, who returned her stare with perfect calm. Hmm. Can definitely see the blue-blood in him. Big on the self-control thing. She let a small hint of an evil smirk touch the corner of her mouth, and watched him swallow. There we go. Loosen up, kid.
"So, Tristan. Have you been at Chilton long?" He nodded, glad to be on a safe topic.
"Since kindergarten, actually." Lorelai looked at him sympathetically.
"Wow. That's a long time at the same school." He shrugged.
"It's the best school around." Lorelai nodded and deftly but subtly changed the subject.
"So, Tristan. Are you planning to hit on my daughter?" Tristan choked on his coffee. Lorelai calmly handed him a napkin, waiting patiently as he wiped his mouth. His face was suddenly very pale.
"Excuse me?" She put on a look of innocence.
"Are you planning to hit on my daughter? Because, if you are, there are some ground rules we need to discuss." Tristan opened his mouth, but Lorelai kept going. "Nookie will be limited to rooms in which there are no doors to close. I have the utmost respect for my daughter's privacy and absolutely none for yours, thus you will sleep in plain sight on the sofa. If at any time you happen to kiss her, your hands will remain visible. If I catch them in a place where they are not visible, I will cut them off. If you hurt her, I will hunt you down and skin you." The smile was still in place. Tristan was frozen. "Any questions?" He swallowed.
"Ms. Gil-uh, Lorelai-" He modified, catching Lorelai's warning look. "I think you got the wrong conception of our relationship. Rory and I have a, uh, very tentative friendship which I value highly-" along with my life "-and I have no intention of jeopardizing that friendship for any reason." Lorelai appraised him critically, pursing her lips and cocking her head to the side, gauging his sincerity.
"Ok." Tristan looked relieved. He was about to say something when Rory reappeared.
"Hi. Are we ready to go?" Lorelai stood, walking toward the counter.
"Go ahead, you two. I'm gonna hang out here for awhile." Rory shrugged.
"Okay. Come on." Tristan pushed open the door and held it as Rory passed through. Lorelai watched from the corner of her eye.
Huh. Gallantry. Score one for biblical boy.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"This is weird." Rory stared up at the house she'd lived in all her life.
"I know."
"I feel like I'm insinuating something by letting you sleep in my house."
"If you want, I could just sleep on the porch." Rory just looked at him, her head to the side, a slight smile on her face. "What?"
"It's nothing. I just never pictured you making that kind of offer. You seem to kind of be a mansion-and-servants kind of guy." Tristan shrugged.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." He opened the door for her and followed her inside, really looking around the house for the first time. It was a complete mess, yet the feeling was comfortable. The large windows let in lots of light and air, which ruffled the batik-print curtains. There were magazines and textbooks strewn all over the various tables, chairs, couches. Also in evidence were the many signs of female living. There was a tank top thrown over the back of a chair, as well as several hair scrunchies twisted around the banister. He trailed Rory into the kitchen, where she was pouring a mug of coffee. Tristan watched, amused.
"We just got back from the coffee place." Rory looked at him.
"Your point being...?"
"That you may spontaneously combust by excessive caffeine consumption." Rory shrugged.
"Six years straight and no side effects." Tristan lifted an eyebrow.
"Impressive."
"Yeah, it is. You should see my mom, though. She's been going at it for at least fifteen years, although I wouldn't say no side effects." Lorelai walked in in time to hear her. She fixed Rory with a mock glare.
"I heard that, young lady. In punishment, you have to go play somewhere else. I have to study for my test on Monday, so scoot." Rory nodded.
"Okay." She turned and went into the living room, plopping down on the armchair while Tristan sat on the couch. They studied the fascinating magazines on the coffee table in silence for several minutes.
"Why is your-"
"Do you want to-" Tristan and Rory both flushed. She gestured.
"Go ahead."
"Why is your couch facing away from the TV?" Rory blinked. Although it was a perfectly reasonable question, it brought back painful memories. She answered abruptly, before the tears could start.
"Long story." Tristan nodded and, surprisingly, dropped the subject. "So, do you want to work on the questionnaire?" He gazed at her for a moment, head cocked to the side. Then he blinked, looking startled.
"Oh, sure." He reached into the back pocket of his khakis and pulled out the folded paper. Rory dug hers out from under a pillow. "Okay, next question: What do you want to be when you grow up?" She looked expectantly at Tristan. "Very original question."
"I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Probably something in science or business." Rory's brow furrowed, which Tristan noticed. "What?" He said, somewhat defensively.
"Nothing. I just thought you'd do something in writing. You always participate a lot in English. And your essay on Romeo and Juliet was in the school magazine." Tristan smirked.
"You noticed." Rory flushed, then recovered.
"My grandmother gets every newsletter, newspaper, and magazine in Chilton. She recognized your name from my birthday party and told me about the essay." The smirk was still in place.
"Really."
"Yep." Tristan watched her amusedly, waiting until she looked up and met his eyes to look away, still smirking. He looked at the sheet.
"So, what about you?" Rory shrugged.
"I really don't know. I love reading and writing, so I'll probably do something in English and Literature. Maybe a freelance writer." Tristan nodded reflectively.
"It suits you. Freelance writing, I mean." Rory looked at him questioningly. "It just seems to me that between the way you like to make people think, and the way you like to read, that it'd be a good choice."
"You're very perceptive." Tristan smirked.
"Is that a compliment?" Rory rolled her eyes.
"It's a neutral observation Why do you think I like to make people think?" Tristan shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, you made me think, at Madeline's party. You got me off of Summer and concentrating on something else. And I figured if you'd do it for me, you'd do it for anyone."
"Smart."
"Yeah." Silence. They both shifted several times before Rory stood up.
"How about a grand tour? It's not a big house, but it'll stop this weird little uncomfortable silence we have going here." Tristan stood.
"Sure." Rory turned and led the way to the kitchen. Tristan followed her. Rory stopped in the middle of the room and gestured.
"This is the kitchen, where the Gilmore family begins every day with several cups of coffee and pop tarts on our very own collectible Charlie's Angels plates." Tristan lifted an eyebrow at the flashy utensils, but didn't say anything. Next, Rory led him through the hallway into the living room.
"On your left we have a closet and a bathroom. You probably don't want to open the closet."
"Why, what's in the closet?" Rory paused and cocked her head, trying to remember.
"A broken lamp, a tricycle, some old baby clothes, five pillows, three blankets, and Sparky's old cage." She caught Tristan's look. "Long story. This is the living room, where we watch TV and do fun things like Twister and Yoga and poker."
"You play poker?" Rory smiled.
"Oh yeah, every week. Double money if you win three weeks straight." Tristan watched contentedly as Rory chattered on, her hands moving in small, graceful motions, accentuating her words.
"Up the stairs is my mom's room. She'll probably kill you if you go in there, so I suggest you avoid it." Tristan laughed slightly.
"Noted. Where's your room?" The pointed question made Rory bite her lip.
"It's just off the kitchen. I'll show you." She led the way to the closed door of her room, moving noticeably more hesitantly than earlier. Taking a breath, she grasped the knob and pushed the door open.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Rory watched Tristan apprehensively from the corner of her eye. Even though they were on the road to becoming friends, she felt weird about showing him her room. It was her personal space, and she didn't like people she didn't know well wandering around in it.
Rory stepped through the door and walked to the middle of the room, folding her arms self-consciously. Tristan stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He surveyed the room with a curious expression, his gaze finally drifting back to Rory's.
"It's very you." Rory smiled.
"Thanks. I think. You can come in." She said abruptly. Tristan looked at her for a moment, then shook his head.
"I'm okay here." Rory lifted an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Really." Tristan nodded.
"Yeah, actually. A bedroom is someone's personal space. I don't want to invade that, especially since we just started this whole 'friends' thing." Rory stared at him. He'd sounded like he understood her. He'd said exactly what she'd wanted to say to Dean on movie-night. But having Dean in my room worked, sort of. He looked kind of natural. But having Tristan respect my privacy feels natural too. . . She blinked and blushed slightly when she realized that Tristan was watching her. She looked around, hoping for something to end their silence, when the phone rang. Relieved, Rory slipped past Tristan into the living room, heading for the chair when the phone had last been seen. Tristan followed.
"Hello, Gilmore residence."
"Good afternoon. Tell Lorelai that I require her presence here immediately." Click. Rory smiled. Michel, the concierge at the Independence Inn, managed to spend every day in a perpetually bad mood.
"Mom, Michel wants you at the Inn." Rory walked into the kitchen where her mother was studying and poured herself a glass of water, offering one to Tristan, which shook his head. Lorelai looked up from her books with a dismayed expression.
"I can't go now! I have to study, or I'll flunk my test! What exactly did he say?" Rory shrugged.
"He said, 'Good afternoon. Tell Lorelai I require her presence immediately.' Then he hung up." Lorelai cocked her head and looked at Rory hopefully.
"He said Lorelai? Not Lorelai Gilmore, the manager of the Inn? Just Lorelai. A term which could, theoretically, apply to either member of the Gilmore household?" Rory took one look at her mother's smile and began backing away, narrowly avoiding bumping into Tristan, who was watching with interest.
"No. Absolutely not." Lorelai stuck out her lower lip and widened her eyes.
"Come on, Rory! Just go over there and when Michel yells at you, you get to play blatant and say that since he wasn't specific, we couldn't possibly be expected to make an educated assumption as to which of us he meant."
"What if it's actually something important?" Lorelai gave her a skeptical look.
"The last time Michel called me at home, he insisted that it was an emergency and that I had to come immediately, so I drove all the way out there and found out that one sink was clogged in one bathroom on the third floor. The plumber was already there. And I really, really need to study." She gave Rory puppy eyes, thrusting out her lower lip and attempting a woeful stare. Then her face brightened.
"And hey, you can take him with you." She gestured to Tristan. "Watch Michel chew him up and spit him out." Tristan lifted an eyebrow, paling slightly. Rory smiled, still wavering.
"Well..."
"I'll lend you the pink leopard print tank top with the really cool, sparkly straps." Lorelai wheedled. Rory rolled her eyes.
"That's mine anyway. You stole it last week, remember?" Lorelai frowned, temporarily thrown. Then she brightened.
"If you go talk to Michel, I'll give it back and I'll wash it!"
"Done." Rory pulled a white cotton three-quarter sleeve button up shirt off a hook by the door and put it on over her tank top, heading out the door with Tristan on her tail. "We'll be back soon."
"Thanks!" Lorelai called to their backs. She smiled to herself as she watched the two teenagers cross the yard, bickering all the way. She saw the way Rory's eyes sparkled with amusement when Tristan leaned down and whispered in her ear, and how the furious smack she planted across his chest as a result wasn't half as hard as was probably deserved. Still smirking, Lorelai bent over her work. The weekend would be interesting.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rory Gilmore spun the combination of her lock, and yanked. Nothing. She scowled, and flipped the numbers again. This time, the lock opened, but when she tried the locker it stuck. Rory sighed in frustration. Experience had taught her not to yank too hard on the lockers. The results tended toward the disastrous. Now, she had to find a janitor to open her locker for her, which meant that she would waste her free period. Fabulous.
A hand slid past her shoulder and thumped her locker twice. It creaked open, much to her delight. Rory spun around, a grateful smile on her lips, which quickly faded when she caught sight of her momentary savior. She quickly dropped her gaze, flushing. Tristan Dugray leaned against the locker next to hers, no trace of his signature smirk on his lips.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Rory pulled a textbook from her locker and slammed it shut.
"I'm not avoiding you." She started down the hall, Tristan keeping pace easily at her side.
"Really."
"That's what I said." Tristan caught hold of her shoulder, effectively stopping her.
"Rory, come on. We've had three classes together. And at the end of each one, you've just happened to slip out before I could talk to you. That's called avoidance." Rory met his eyes reluctantly.
"I'm sorry." Tristan dropped his hand from her shoulder.
"We need to talk, Rory." She nodded.
"Okay. Do you want to go to the library? I have a free period."
"Yeah. Sure." They walked quickly to the library in awkward silence. Tristan pushed the door open and held it as Rory followed him in, heading straight for the biography section. She immediately began scanning the shelves.
"What are you looking for?" Tristan asked over her shoulder. Rory answered without taking her eyes from the shelves.
"A biography on James Joyce. I need it for American Lit." Tristan nodded and began browsing through the rack next to her. After a few minutes, Rory emerged triumphant with not one but two books.
"The Portable Dorothy Parker." Tristan examined the second book. "Good choice." Rory glanced at him in surprise.
"You've read it?"
"Yeah. I like the New Yorker." Rory nodded.
"Me too. We had a subscription, but I think it died a lingering death a few years ago." Their eyes locked for a moment.
"Rory."
"Yeah."
"We still need to talk." Rory broke the gaze.
"I know." She sank down into a big wooden armchair. Tristan half- sat, half-leaned on the table in front of her, hands in his pockets. "Don't you need to get a biography for American Lit. too?" She avoided looking at him.
"Rory."
" 'Cause if you do, you should get it now before all the good authors are gone."
"Rory, come on." Tristan reached out and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. There was a shimmer of something in her large blue eyes. Their gazes locked for a moment before Rory pulled away.
"It was a mistake, Tristan. It never should have happened." Tristan released his breath.
"Right. It was a rebound thing. You had just broken up with Dean, I had just broken up with Summer-" Rory nodded.
"Exactly. Rebound. It didn't mean anything."
"Okay."
"Okay." Tristan ran a hand through his spiky, tousled blonde hair.
"Rory, I really am sorry I've been a jerk to you." Rory shrugged.
"It's ok. Just don't make it a habit." Tristan laughed softly.
"I won't." He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She was sitting like a little kid, knees together but feet apart, tips of her shoes pointed in. She was leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees, long, silky dark hair swinging forward from barrettes to brush her cheeks. He wondered if it was unconscious, or if she did it on purpose to hide her face. He was startled out of his reverie by Rory's voice.
"Tristan?"
"Yeah?" She swallowed.
"Can we be friends?" The question made Tristan's heart ache. He managed to control his euphoria and smile at her. A real smile.
"We can if you want us to." Pain flashed in her eyes, so briefly he thought he'd imagined it. Her voice, when she answered, was low.
"I do." Tristan nodded.
"Then we are."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"No!" Lorelai Gilmore dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and leaned forward, wide-eyed.
"Yes." Rory smiled, amused. Lorelai's jaw dropped.
"Amazing. Did he hypnotize you?" Rory gave her a look.
"We've reached an understanding." Lorelai leaned in again.
"Really! Tell me more. Was there kicking and biting involved?" Rory grinned triumphantly.
"Nope. Just two civilized people having a logical conversation." Lorelai sat back and shook her head in admiration.
"You have got to teach me to do that sometime."
"Remind me next weekend." Lorelai nodded.
"I'll put it on the calendar." There was a brief silence as Lorelai sorted mail and Rory set the timer for the oven pizza. It was movie night again, although this time the movie selection was Dirty Dancing, with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. Lorelai played around with various papers for a few minutes, throwing glances toward an oblivious Rory. Finally she set down the papers with a sigh and stood up, going to look over Rory's shoulder at the pizza.
"This doesn't have anything to do with Dean, does it?" Rory looked up.
"How would becoming friends with Tristan have anything to do with Dean?" Lorelai shrugged and picked up a pixie stick from the large bag of junk food on the table and began using it to gesticulate.
"I don't know. If you were getting to know Tristan to rebound off Dean. If this is another ill-fated attempt to not wallow. If you're doing it to make Dean jealous." Rory's eyes were on the pixie stick as it dropped and weaved frantically through the air with Lorelai's airy hand gestures. At the last suggestion, her head snapped up.
"Mom, I wouldn't do that to Tristan. This has nothing to do with Dean, ok? We're just friends. Nothing else." Lorelai studied her for a moment, then let the matter drop.
"Allright. If you're sure you don't want to talk." Rory nodded. Lorelai rubbed her hands together. "Okay! You get the pizza, I'll get the sugar, let's get moving here. Hustle!" The two women hurried through the kitchen, throwing themselves onto the sofa armed with pounds of junk food. For several minutes the only sounds to be heard were the crunching of two mouths and the dialogue from the movie.
"Hey, does Kelly Bishop ever remind you of Grandma?" Lorelai blinked, sat up and peered closely at the screen, the turned to Rory.
"You know, she really does. Huh. My mother looks like someone in Dirty Dancing. Who would have thought." Rory shrugged and went back to watching the movie.
"Anything can happen."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"All right class, we will be starting a new unit today. Now that we've finished the anatomy of the brain, we will begin on the many ways the brain is influenced." Ms. Richter surveyed her tenth grade Psychology class. Most of them were only half-awake, as Psychology was first period. She could see several only half open eyes, and a few rather severe cases of bed-head. "I can see you're all terribly excited. In the light of the Head- Master's recent request that I organize the class around a hands-on experience for you, I have taken the liberty to devise a project . Over the space of the next two days-" There was a simultaneous groan from the entire class. "Yes, I realize it's the weekend. You will each visit the home of one of your classmates for twenty-four hours. Then, you will switch, and your partner will visit your home for twenty-four hours. After the project, you will each give a presentation on how your partner has been influenced by his or her home life.
"Seeing how this project imposes upon your parents to house another student for a day and night, I will require each of you to bring in a permission slip. In addition, Lorelai Gilmore and Tristan Dugray, each of you must have one of your parents call me to affirm that they approve of the project, as the two of you are the only male/female pair. The rest of the pairs are same sex as follows: Madeline DeFacchi and Louise Montgomery, Jonathan Winterbrough and Todd Willams..."
Rory Gilmore sat in shock. I could've sworn she just said Lorelai Gilmore and Tristan Dugray. But that's impossible. It....it just.... She looked across the room and her cheeks flamed when she met Tristan's eyes.
"You will now meet with your partner to begin work on the questionnaire I have designed for you. It is to be turned in on Monday when you give your presentation. You will work on the assumption that your parents will agree to this, so start deciding whose home to visit first, et cetera. You have the rest of the period." Immediately, the class erupted in chatter as Ms. Richter passed out the questionnaires and people began pairing up. Rory took a breath and risked a glanced at Tristan.
He was walking toward her, not quite achieving his usual look of detached mockery. He sat down next to her and offered her a shaky smirk.
"Some class, huh." She noticed his cheeks were flushed, also.
"Yeah. Some class." Tristan broke the semi-awkward silence by pulling two sheets of paper out of his bookbag.
"Ms. Richter gave me the questionnaires. We can get started on them now and then finish up over the weekend."
"Okay. Okay, let's do that." Rory nodded determinedly and took the paper Tristan held out. She scanned the rows of questions. "Wow. Some of these are really personal." Tristan looked at his sheet.
"You can say that again. Uh, Okay. Question number one. Who do you look up to, and why?" He looked up at Rory and saw her small smile.
"That's an easy one. My mother. She's spent the last sixteen years fighting so that I get every opportunity. She's built an amazing life out of a bad situation, and sacrificed so much so that I have the best possible life. She's my hero. Or heroine, I guess." She stopped to look at Tristan. He looked surprised, and a little wistful. "What?" He blinked.
"Nothing. You just seem to have a really great relationship with your Mom." Rory nodded.
"She's my everything."
"You're lucky." Their eyes locked over the paper for a few seconds until Rory cleared her throat and looked down at her paper.
"How about you? Who's your role model?" Tristan shrugged.
"I never really thought about it. There are so many influential people." Rory leaned her chin on her hand and watched him think. "My grandfather."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He writes a lot. When I was a little kid, he used to read me a lot of his stories. He was my only relative who ever did anything with me because he wanted to, not because he had to." Tristan looked up and met Rory's eyes. There was a strange look on her face.
"What?" Rory blinked and looked down.
"Nothing. I think I need to re-evaluate my opinion of you." Tristan looked at her warily.
"Is that good or bad?" Rory shrugged.
"I haven't decided yet. I'll let you know when I figure it out, though." Tristan nodded.
"I'd appreciate that. Thanks." Their eyes met, and they both smiled. The bell rang, and they both stood up. " So, do you want to start at my house or yours?"
"I really don't care. Whichever."
"Can we start at yours? I'll come over in the morning, and then we can move on to my house Sunday morning."
"Cool." Rory smiled. Oddly, the first session hadn't gone too badly. Then they both reached for the doorknob at the same time. Their hands brushed, and they both jumped back. Tristan gave her a look she couldn't decipher.
"This is going to be a hell of a weekend."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Tristan."
"Yep."
"That's wrong."
"At least I don't hate him anymore."
"The girl has a point."
"I'm gonna go read."
"So you're cool with this."
"Totally."
"Okay." Rory got up and went into the living room, holding her breath and counting mentally. Before she got to twelve, Lorelai had followed her in out of the kitchen. She plopped down on the couch beside her daughter.
"Okay, now that we're done with the obligatory 'Honey-are-you-ok-yes- mom-I'm-fine,' how are you really feeling?" Rory tucked one leg beneath her and turned to look at her mom. She twirled a strand of long, straight dark hair around her fingers.
"I'm not sure, exactly. I feel...weird. I'm so used to hating him, and them when we actually sit down and talk, it feels strange." Lorelai sighed, and brushed a strand of hair away from Rory's face.
"It's going to feel weird. You guys became friends under the most awkward of circumstances. I mean, you made the leap from detestable jerk to potential friend in the space of a week and a kiss, Rory."
"True. But hey, I like a challenge, right?"
"Hey, if we're done with the heart-to-heart, I've got a really cool challenge."
"Really? Does it involve finding the phone book to call for pizza? 'Cause I'm hungry."
"Ahh, you read my mind. You get a ten point bonus if you find the phone so we can order."
"Once we find the number." Lorelai threw up her hands in amazement.
"What a smart child."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tristan Dugray turned onto the road to Stars Hollow in a good mood. The shade of the trees was a novelty not often experienced in his part of the neighborhood, where every tree that might approximate shade-worthy height was chopped down for fear of creating a suburban appearance. Tristan smiled grimly. His mother said the word suburb like it was a curse. Both his parents were dying to live in a big city, and be recognized as fashionable, modern additions to society. He personally thought it was a load of shit. Tristan liked Connecticut just fine, which seemed to be a fluke in the family.
Coming out of his reverie, Tristan made a left onto what appeared to be the main street of Stars Hollow. He checked the scrap of paper with Rory's address on it for the fifth time, even though he'd already memorized it. Right onto Peach Street, down the block, make a left, it's the white house with the porch. He stopped the car in front and just sat for a moment, gathering his nerves. Opening the door, Tristan stepped out of the car and slowly made his way up the lawn, unconsciously admiring the rambling house with its flowers and large trees and general relaxing feeling. As soon as he knocked, he heard feet walking to the door and tensed.
The door to the Gilmore residence opened onto the smiling face of the senior Lorelai Gilmore. She smiled brightly at Tristan's somewhat nervous expression.
"Hi! You must be Tristan! I'm Lorelai. Not your Lorelai. She's Rory. I'm Mom-Lorelai. Excuse me, I haven't had my coffee yet. Rory's upstairs drying her hair. She didn't know when you'd be here, so I told her to take a shower and wow, looks like I was off by about five minutes! Would you like a donut? Your mouth is hanging open." Tristan shut his mouth and stared as Lorelai, Senior chattered happily, ushering him inside and forcibly putting him into a chair in the kitchen. He interrupted her briefly.
"Uh, Ms. Gilmore?" Lorelai looked up from her coffee-machine.
"It's Lorelai. If you make me feel old before my time you shall regret it." Tristan swallowed.
"Lorelai it is. Where should I put my bag?" Lorelai frowned.
"You'll have to ask Rory." As the words left her mouth, their subject appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dark hair piled on top of her head with a clip so as not to dampen her white tank top and jeans. She stopped in the doorway and couldn't help but smirk slightly at the bright look on her mother's face and the terrified look on Tristan's.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Scaring your classmate." Lorelai said cheerfully.
"Desist, please."
"You got it. Meet you at Luke's in twenty minutes? I'll save you a muffin." Lorelai wheedled.
"Thanks."
"No prob. Nice meeting you, Tristan." She smiled sweetly and bounced out the door. Tristan looked thoroughly relieved and astonished at the same time. Rory tried not to laugh at him as she poured herself a coup of coffee.
"Want some?" She gestured to the pot. Tristan blinked and looked at her.
"Yeah, thanks." Rory poured another mug and set in down in front of him. She watched, amused, as he tried to erase the dazed expression from his face.
"She has that affect on a lot of people." She offered. Tristan laughed slightly and shook his head.
"I have never in my life met someone like that. I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck." Rory sipped her coffee and pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes as the conversation dwindled and quickly became an awkward silence. "Uh, so where should I put my stuff?" Rory released her breath, glad for the break in the silence.
"Just bring it into the living room. I'll set up the couch for you." She watched him for a moment, out of the corner of her eye, to see his reaction. It was disappointing. Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it, having thought better of his decision. He shouldered his bookbag and followed Rory into the living room as she spread sheets and blankets onto the sofa.
"There," she said, smoothing the sheets. "That should-" The ringing of the telephone cut her off. "Don't move," she ordered Tristan. He froze, but gave her a skeptical look.
"Why?"
"I have to find the phone. You might step on it." He nodded warily, easing himself onto the couch and out of harm's way as Rory retrieved the phone from beneath an immense stack of magazines and held it to her ear. His first fifteen minutes in the Gilmore house, and he might never be the same.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hello?"
"Is he there?" Rory smiled.
"Hey, Lane."
"Hi, Rory. Is he there?"
"Yes, he's here."
"Oooh, cool. When can I come over?" Rory looked at her watch.
"We're going to Luke's in five minutes. Meet you there?"
"Yep." Rory hung up and turned to Tristan, tossing the phone onto a chair, where it promptly sank from view beneath an enormous mass of pillows.
"You know, if you actually hung it up, you might not have to do a search-and-rescue every time it rings." Tristan pointed out. Rory gave him a look.
"Get your jacket. We're going to Luke's."
"Luke's?" Rory nodded emphatically.
"Luke makes the best coffee on the face of the Earth. I mean, if you want, you could just stay here, but you'd really be missing out." Tristan shrugged and got up.
"Let's go."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tristan glanced around nervously as he walked beside Rory down Main street.
"I feel like everybody's staring at me." Rory laughed.
"That's because they are. Stars Hollow has a very active gossip circle. That's Taylor, the bald guy watching from across the street-" she pointed, and as soon as Tristan looked Taylor was on the phone and dialing. "-see, now that he's got a description of you, he's going to call the rest of the circle to tell them that there's a tall blonde guy, about six feet tall, blue eyes, walking with Rory Gilmore, headed in the approximate direction of Luke's." Tristan stared at her.
"You're serious."
"Yep." He shook his head.
"In my neighborhood, someone would sue you if you did that."
"Why?" He shrugged.
"People are really protective of their personal business." Rory nodded. They walked until the reached Luke's.
"Here it is. Luke's, home of the happy coffee." Tristan looked up at the sign, confused.
"Why does it say it's a hardware store?"
"That's just Luke. It used to be a hardware store, but Luke never took the sign down. The town beautifying committee hates him because he says he likes it there." She pushed the door open and began sliding through the throngs of people to their usual table. Lorelai was already there, sipping a large cup of coffee and harboring three muffins on a napkin next to her mug. She smiled when she saw the two and patted the chairs across from her. Rory and Tristan sat down, careful not to touch or brush against each other. Lorelai set a muffin in front of each of them as Luke materialized by their table. He stared at Tristan.
"Who're you?"
"He's a classmate of mine. We have a psychology project to work on." Rory said. Luke looked at Tristan suspiciously over his order pad.
"Whaddaya want?" Rory scanned the menu.
"I'll have coffee and pancakes. Oh, and could you put that yummy whipped cream on top? Or was that just a 'I'm feeling sorry for Rory, so I'll give her anything she wants' kind of thing?" Luke smirked.
"Don't push your luck." He glanced at Tristan. "What about you?"
"Just coffee. I'll work on the muffin, too." Luke shrugged and started to walk away. Lorelai smiled sweetly.
"Uh, Luke? You forgot me."
"No more coffee."
"Who said I want coffee?" Luke gave her a disbelieving look.
"You always want coffee." Their bickering faded into the general background noise as Lorelai got up and trailed Luke into the kitchen. Rory played with a napkin as Tristan ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. Rory was half-grateful, half-nervous to see the flashy form of Miss Patty bustling toward their table.
"Rory, honey! How are you!" She didn't wait for an answer as she closed in on Tristan. "My, who is this handsome young man?" Rory hid a smile behind her muffin.
"Miss Patty, this is Tristan Dugray. We're working on a project this weekend. Tristan, this is Miss Patty. She used to be a dancer, and now she teaches." Tristan nodded warily.
"It's nice to meet you." Patty winked at him.
"Anytime you need a lesson is how to shake your booty, you just come and see me."
"Uh, sure." She patted his butt and turned to Rory, who was trying not to snort into her coffee at the color of Tristan's face.
"You sure like them tall, honey! He's a cute one." Rory shook her head emphatically.
"Oh, no, Miss Patty, it's not like that at all! We have to work on a Psychology project." Patty winked knowingly and bustled off. Now both Rory's and Tristan's faces were red, although only Tristan still had a look of shock painted on his.
"She pinched my butt!" Rory shrugged, trying to keep a straight face.
"Miss Patty's kind of the town flirt. Don't take it personally." Tristan stared at her. Lorelai bounced triumphantly back to the table, coffee mug in hand, as Rory smothered her giggles. She sat down across from them and extended a hand to Tristan.
"Tristan, right? Sorry I scared you. I'm Rory's mom, Lorelai." Tristan shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you. I thought he wouldn't give you any more." He nodded toward Lorelai's brimming cup. She glanced fondly at Luke's back and smiled.
"Luke'll do anything if you ask right. All he needed was a little push in the right direction, and poof! Instant coffee." Rory nodded understandingly.
"You sneaked behind the counter while Miss Patty distracted him, didn't you?" Lorelai mock glared at her.
"Hey! That's privileged information, young lady. Not to be revealed to outside sources. But hey, speaking of outside sources..." Rory looked up in time to see Lane push open the door. She came over and dropped into the chair next to Lorelai and surveyed Tristan, who gave her his signature arrogant, charming half-smirk. He smiled when Lane appeared properly won over. Rory looked at him suspiciously. She hadn't seen the smirk in over twenty-four hours. Now Tristan seemed to be regressing.
"So you're Tristan. Nice to meet you."
"I think I saw you at Madeline's party. You were dancing with Henry, right?" Lane smiled.
"Yeah. I must have missed you. Rory-" Lane turned to her best friend. " I can only stay for a few minutes. My mom wants me to finish my Korean school work, but I'll try and come over later, okay?" Rory nodded.
"I'll come with you to the counter to order." The two girls stood up and edged out from the table, leaving Tristan looking slightly apprehensive at the idea of being alone with Lorelai. Lane smiled at Tristan over her shoulder.
"It was great to meet you." Tristan smiled back.
"Yeah, same." Rory glanced over her shoulder and glared at her mother, who was eyeing Tristan and lazily stirring her coffee with her spoon, a bright smile on her face.
"Be good." Lorelai waved a hand at her dismissively, flashing an innocent look.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorelai stirred her coffee with a spoon and gazed patiently at Tristan, who returned her stare with perfect calm. Hmm. Can definitely see the blue-blood in him. Big on the self-control thing. She let a small hint of an evil smirk touch the corner of her mouth, and watched him swallow. There we go. Loosen up, kid.
"So, Tristan. Have you been at Chilton long?" He nodded, glad to be on a safe topic.
"Since kindergarten, actually." Lorelai looked at him sympathetically.
"Wow. That's a long time at the same school." He shrugged.
"It's the best school around." Lorelai nodded and deftly but subtly changed the subject.
"So, Tristan. Are you planning to hit on my daughter?" Tristan choked on his coffee. Lorelai calmly handed him a napkin, waiting patiently as he wiped his mouth. His face was suddenly very pale.
"Excuse me?" She put on a look of innocence.
"Are you planning to hit on my daughter? Because, if you are, there are some ground rules we need to discuss." Tristan opened his mouth, but Lorelai kept going. "Nookie will be limited to rooms in which there are no doors to close. I have the utmost respect for my daughter's privacy and absolutely none for yours, thus you will sleep in plain sight on the sofa. If at any time you happen to kiss her, your hands will remain visible. If I catch them in a place where they are not visible, I will cut them off. If you hurt her, I will hunt you down and skin you." The smile was still in place. Tristan was frozen. "Any questions?" He swallowed.
"Ms. Gil-uh, Lorelai-" He modified, catching Lorelai's warning look. "I think you got the wrong conception of our relationship. Rory and I have a, uh, very tentative friendship which I value highly-" along with my life "-and I have no intention of jeopardizing that friendship for any reason." Lorelai appraised him critically, pursing her lips and cocking her head to the side, gauging his sincerity.
"Ok." Tristan looked relieved. He was about to say something when Rory reappeared.
"Hi. Are we ready to go?" Lorelai stood, walking toward the counter.
"Go ahead, you two. I'm gonna hang out here for awhile." Rory shrugged.
"Okay. Come on." Tristan pushed open the door and held it as Rory passed through. Lorelai watched from the corner of her eye.
Huh. Gallantry. Score one for biblical boy.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"This is weird." Rory stared up at the house she'd lived in all her life.
"I know."
"I feel like I'm insinuating something by letting you sleep in my house."
"If you want, I could just sleep on the porch." Rory just looked at him, her head to the side, a slight smile on her face. "What?"
"It's nothing. I just never pictured you making that kind of offer. You seem to kind of be a mansion-and-servants kind of guy." Tristan shrugged.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." He opened the door for her and followed her inside, really looking around the house for the first time. It was a complete mess, yet the feeling was comfortable. The large windows let in lots of light and air, which ruffled the batik-print curtains. There were magazines and textbooks strewn all over the various tables, chairs, couches. Also in evidence were the many signs of female living. There was a tank top thrown over the back of a chair, as well as several hair scrunchies twisted around the banister. He trailed Rory into the kitchen, where she was pouring a mug of coffee. Tristan watched, amused.
"We just got back from the coffee place." Rory looked at him.
"Your point being...?"
"That you may spontaneously combust by excessive caffeine consumption." Rory shrugged.
"Six years straight and no side effects." Tristan lifted an eyebrow.
"Impressive."
"Yeah, it is. You should see my mom, though. She's been going at it for at least fifteen years, although I wouldn't say no side effects." Lorelai walked in in time to hear her. She fixed Rory with a mock glare.
"I heard that, young lady. In punishment, you have to go play somewhere else. I have to study for my test on Monday, so scoot." Rory nodded.
"Okay." She turned and went into the living room, plopping down on the armchair while Tristan sat on the couch. They studied the fascinating magazines on the coffee table in silence for several minutes.
"Why is your-"
"Do you want to-" Tristan and Rory both flushed. She gestured.
"Go ahead."
"Why is your couch facing away from the TV?" Rory blinked. Although it was a perfectly reasonable question, it brought back painful memories. She answered abruptly, before the tears could start.
"Long story." Tristan nodded and, surprisingly, dropped the subject. "So, do you want to work on the questionnaire?" He gazed at her for a moment, head cocked to the side. Then he blinked, looking startled.
"Oh, sure." He reached into the back pocket of his khakis and pulled out the folded paper. Rory dug hers out from under a pillow. "Okay, next question: What do you want to be when you grow up?" She looked expectantly at Tristan. "Very original question."
"I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Probably something in science or business." Rory's brow furrowed, which Tristan noticed. "What?" He said, somewhat defensively.
"Nothing. I just thought you'd do something in writing. You always participate a lot in English. And your essay on Romeo and Juliet was in the school magazine." Tristan smirked.
"You noticed." Rory flushed, then recovered.
"My grandmother gets every newsletter, newspaper, and magazine in Chilton. She recognized your name from my birthday party and told me about the essay." The smirk was still in place.
"Really."
"Yep." Tristan watched her amusedly, waiting until she looked up and met his eyes to look away, still smirking. He looked at the sheet.
"So, what about you?" Rory shrugged.
"I really don't know. I love reading and writing, so I'll probably do something in English and Literature. Maybe a freelance writer." Tristan nodded reflectively.
"It suits you. Freelance writing, I mean." Rory looked at him questioningly. "It just seems to me that between the way you like to make people think, and the way you like to read, that it'd be a good choice."
"You're very perceptive." Tristan smirked.
"Is that a compliment?" Rory rolled her eyes.
"It's a neutral observation Why do you think I like to make people think?" Tristan shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, you made me think, at Madeline's party. You got me off of Summer and concentrating on something else. And I figured if you'd do it for me, you'd do it for anyone."
"Smart."
"Yeah." Silence. They both shifted several times before Rory stood up.
"How about a grand tour? It's not a big house, but it'll stop this weird little uncomfortable silence we have going here." Tristan stood.
"Sure." Rory turned and led the way to the kitchen. Tristan followed her. Rory stopped in the middle of the room and gestured.
"This is the kitchen, where the Gilmore family begins every day with several cups of coffee and pop tarts on our very own collectible Charlie's Angels plates." Tristan lifted an eyebrow at the flashy utensils, but didn't say anything. Next, Rory led him through the hallway into the living room.
"On your left we have a closet and a bathroom. You probably don't want to open the closet."
"Why, what's in the closet?" Rory paused and cocked her head, trying to remember.
"A broken lamp, a tricycle, some old baby clothes, five pillows, three blankets, and Sparky's old cage." She caught Tristan's look. "Long story. This is the living room, where we watch TV and do fun things like Twister and Yoga and poker."
"You play poker?" Rory smiled.
"Oh yeah, every week. Double money if you win three weeks straight." Tristan watched contentedly as Rory chattered on, her hands moving in small, graceful motions, accentuating her words.
"Up the stairs is my mom's room. She'll probably kill you if you go in there, so I suggest you avoid it." Tristan laughed slightly.
"Noted. Where's your room?" The pointed question made Rory bite her lip.
"It's just off the kitchen. I'll show you." She led the way to the closed door of her room, moving noticeably more hesitantly than earlier. Taking a breath, she grasped the knob and pushed the door open.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Rory watched Tristan apprehensively from the corner of her eye. Even though they were on the road to becoming friends, she felt weird about showing him her room. It was her personal space, and she didn't like people she didn't know well wandering around in it.
Rory stepped through the door and walked to the middle of the room, folding her arms self-consciously. Tristan stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He surveyed the room with a curious expression, his gaze finally drifting back to Rory's.
"It's very you." Rory smiled.
"Thanks. I think. You can come in." She said abruptly. Tristan looked at her for a moment, then shook his head.
"I'm okay here." Rory lifted an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Really." Tristan nodded.
"Yeah, actually. A bedroom is someone's personal space. I don't want to invade that, especially since we just started this whole 'friends' thing." Rory stared at him. He'd sounded like he understood her. He'd said exactly what she'd wanted to say to Dean on movie-night. But having Dean in my room worked, sort of. He looked kind of natural. But having Tristan respect my privacy feels natural too. . . She blinked and blushed slightly when she realized that Tristan was watching her. She looked around, hoping for something to end their silence, when the phone rang. Relieved, Rory slipped past Tristan into the living room, heading for the chair when the phone had last been seen. Tristan followed.
"Hello, Gilmore residence."
"Good afternoon. Tell Lorelai that I require her presence here immediately." Click. Rory smiled. Michel, the concierge at the Independence Inn, managed to spend every day in a perpetually bad mood.
"Mom, Michel wants you at the Inn." Rory walked into the kitchen where her mother was studying and poured herself a glass of water, offering one to Tristan, which shook his head. Lorelai looked up from her books with a dismayed expression.
"I can't go now! I have to study, or I'll flunk my test! What exactly did he say?" Rory shrugged.
"He said, 'Good afternoon. Tell Lorelai I require her presence immediately.' Then he hung up." Lorelai cocked her head and looked at Rory hopefully.
"He said Lorelai? Not Lorelai Gilmore, the manager of the Inn? Just Lorelai. A term which could, theoretically, apply to either member of the Gilmore household?" Rory took one look at her mother's smile and began backing away, narrowly avoiding bumping into Tristan, who was watching with interest.
"No. Absolutely not." Lorelai stuck out her lower lip and widened her eyes.
"Come on, Rory! Just go over there and when Michel yells at you, you get to play blatant and say that since he wasn't specific, we couldn't possibly be expected to make an educated assumption as to which of us he meant."
"What if it's actually something important?" Lorelai gave her a skeptical look.
"The last time Michel called me at home, he insisted that it was an emergency and that I had to come immediately, so I drove all the way out there and found out that one sink was clogged in one bathroom on the third floor. The plumber was already there. And I really, really need to study." She gave Rory puppy eyes, thrusting out her lower lip and attempting a woeful stare. Then her face brightened.
"And hey, you can take him with you." She gestured to Tristan. "Watch Michel chew him up and spit him out." Tristan lifted an eyebrow, paling slightly. Rory smiled, still wavering.
"Well..."
"I'll lend you the pink leopard print tank top with the really cool, sparkly straps." Lorelai wheedled. Rory rolled her eyes.
"That's mine anyway. You stole it last week, remember?" Lorelai frowned, temporarily thrown. Then she brightened.
"If you go talk to Michel, I'll give it back and I'll wash it!"
"Done." Rory pulled a white cotton three-quarter sleeve button up shirt off a hook by the door and put it on over her tank top, heading out the door with Tristan on her tail. "We'll be back soon."
"Thanks!" Lorelai called to their backs. She smiled to herself as she watched the two teenagers cross the yard, bickering all the way. She saw the way Rory's eyes sparkled with amusement when Tristan leaned down and whispered in her ear, and how the furious smack she planted across his chest as a result wasn't half as hard as was probably deserved. Still smirking, Lorelai bent over her work. The weekend would be interesting.