Title: The Waiting Room
Summary: Tristan comes back to Chilton, creating an awkward situation for Rory and Dean. What event will drive Rory into Tristan's arms?
Pairings: R/D, R/T, L/L
Rating: As of now, PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor
Spoilers: Tristan went to military school. Duh, you all know that. That's about it.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, don't sue.
Distribution: Ask first, my darlings. But I'll most likely give you permission, unless I'm feeling bitchy. Which is often. But whatever, you don't care what I'm like behind the computer, LOL.
Author's Note: I'm glad you all are still reading after the long wait, and thanks for the great reviews!
Some of you might get the references I'm starting to put in this story, some of you won't. They amuse me, so I'm keeping them. I don't own the quotes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THE WAITING ROOM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**********Chapter Ten: Tricks, Treats, and Decisions**********
"For you?" Rory asked impishly as the two Gilmores approached Tristan, mischievous glimmers in both sets of blue eyes..
"Yes..." Tristan said hesitantly, sensing that they had something up their sleeves. He subconsciously took a step back from the two women.
Lorelai smiled wickedly and turned to wink at her daughter, "You really want to know?"
"I'm not so sure now...."
Lorelai felt around in her purse, and then ominously pulled something out of it slowly. A brown paper bag was held in her hand and she grinned evilly at Tristan. "Donut?" She asked, dropping the menacing act and holding out the bag.
Tristan paused before reaching out to take the warm bag. "I'm scared."
"Oh, don't be." Rory reassured him as he held the gift delicately, like it was a ticking bomb.
"It's not poisonious?" he asked nervously, fingering the edge of the paper. The scent coming from the parcel was making his stomach growl, but he didn't trust the playful look on Lorelai's face.
"Would we do that to you?" Lorelai asked defensively. At the amused look on Tristan's face, she continued, "Well, yes, but no. It's perfectly healthily. In Gilmore terms."
Tristan carefully opened the bag and peered inside. "Yum...chocolate..." He pulled it out and took a bite. "Very good, thank you," He said politely after he'd swallowed.
"Oh, such a nice boy," Lorelai said to her daughter.
"Thank you," Tristan smiled, surprised and pleased.
"I was joking."
"Oh," Tristan deflated, something that flew past Rory but was noted by Lorelai.
"Buck up, trooper," Lorelai told him. "A couple more days of you being coffee fetcher boy and you might just get on my good side."
"Yes ma'am," Tristan nodded.
"And don't call me ma'am. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"Did I ask you to speak?" Lorelai demanded, then realized, "Okay, I guess I did."
"Alright, off you go," Rory shooed Lorelai away as her watch began to beep 9:45.
"Wait, what?" She protested.
"You have to work, as do we. You're dressed, so go. Go to the inn."
"I don't want to!" Lorelai griped.
"Mom..."
"Michel's being rude this week!"
"As opposed to every other week."
"Inconsequential."
"You need to make money," Rory said as she nudged her mother toward the front door. "We need to eat."
"Not that much, you're little, you don't need a lot of food."
Tristan watched the verbal battle as it continued, references to books and movies occasionally going over his head. He was constantly amazed at Rory's brilliance, and her easy laugh at her mother's comments charmed him.
"Hey!" A barking voice jolted him out of of his reverie.
"Yes?" He said, turning to Rory.
"Get that brain of yours to the here and now. We have to figure out something to film."
"Oh, yes," Tristan exhaled noisily. "With BLESSED."
"I guess that could work," Tristan sighed as he and Rory reviewed their film plan after an hour or two of brainstorming.
"Yeah, if by 'work' you mean 'gets us a B'," Rory moaned pathetically.
"And that would be so bad?" Tristan asked. "With a word like blessed, it's lucky we came up with anything at all."
"Yes, it would be bad," Rory crumpled up one of their discarded plans, squeezing it tightly in her hand.
"I see," Tristan said, looking down at their written outline, and opting not to argue the merits of a B. "Now we just have to get it together."
"Right. We need to find people to interview, have each of them tell us why their blessed in their lives, edit together and set it to music, and BAM. We have the formula for a B," Rory said, slamming the book shut. "This is all your fault."
"What?" Tristan said, upset.
"If you had just agreed to one of my original ideas--"
"Or you to mine--"
"Then we wouldn't be stuck with an bad word and an unoriginal, crappy idea that will probably be repeated by more than one other team!"
There was a period of silence as Rory composed herself.
"Sorry."
"No problem," Tristan shrugged, "You're right."
"Am not. It's not your fault, it's the teacher's!" She decided sadly.
"Rory, it's okay," Tristan told her, "We can make this work. We just need good interviews. Think about it, there are a lot of different interpretations on the word "blessed". I mean,you, for one example."
"Me?"
"You're blessed. You've got a mom you have a great relationship with, a small town where everyone knows everyone and the biggest crime in the last year was a missing rubber ducky..."
"Actually, Jess has somewhat upped our crime rates," Rory interjected.
"Good for him," Tristan grinned. "Anyway, you're blessed, even if it's not the textbook definition--"
"Worthy of worship, holy," Rory read off of her paper. "Held in veneration, revered."
"The way people use it doesn't mean that though, does it? It's used as a synonym for 'lucky', and that's an easier word to use."
His speech had soothed Rory's frazzled nerves. She smiled at him, granting him one of the few things that could made him nearly blush, and thanked him sweetly.
"No problem. Now, who in this town do you want to interview?"
Rory paused, her good mood reducing. A scenario unfolded in her brain. Tristan and her in the diner, interviewing Ms. Patty or Babette, Dean walking in and seeing the two of them.."Oh. That."
Tristan controlled his annoyance, "Yes, that."
"It's just that-"
"Yeah, Rory, I get it, but you want an A, don't you?" He took her silence as a yes, which it was. "So we need to interview a lot of people. Since your society is a hell of a lot more blessed than mine, we have two options. Interview your people, and risk dear old Dean seeing us and having a common psychotic moment-"
"Tristan!"
"Or we interview a couple of Chiltonites talking about their cars and clothes, and call it a project."
Rory absorbed this information, weighed the pros and cons as her reasonable mind always did, and nodded, "Right. Okay."
Summary: Tristan comes back to Chilton, creating an awkward situation for Rory and Dean. What event will drive Rory into Tristan's arms?
Pairings: R/D, R/T, L/L
Rating: As of now, PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor
Spoilers: Tristan went to military school. Duh, you all know that. That's about it.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, don't sue.
Distribution: Ask first, my darlings. But I'll most likely give you permission, unless I'm feeling bitchy. Which is often. But whatever, you don't care what I'm like behind the computer, LOL.
Author's Note: I'm glad you all are still reading after the long wait, and thanks for the great reviews!
Some of you might get the references I'm starting to put in this story, some of you won't. They amuse me, so I'm keeping them. I don't own the quotes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THE WAITING ROOM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**********Chapter Ten: Tricks, Treats, and Decisions**********
"For you?" Rory asked impishly as the two Gilmores approached Tristan, mischievous glimmers in both sets of blue eyes..
"Yes..." Tristan said hesitantly, sensing that they had something up their sleeves. He subconsciously took a step back from the two women.
Lorelai smiled wickedly and turned to wink at her daughter, "You really want to know?"
"I'm not so sure now...."
Lorelai felt around in her purse, and then ominously pulled something out of it slowly. A brown paper bag was held in her hand and she grinned evilly at Tristan. "Donut?" She asked, dropping the menacing act and holding out the bag.
Tristan paused before reaching out to take the warm bag. "I'm scared."
"Oh, don't be." Rory reassured him as he held the gift delicately, like it was a ticking bomb.
"It's not poisonious?" he asked nervously, fingering the edge of the paper. The scent coming from the parcel was making his stomach growl, but he didn't trust the playful look on Lorelai's face.
"Would we do that to you?" Lorelai asked defensively. At the amused look on Tristan's face, she continued, "Well, yes, but no. It's perfectly healthily. In Gilmore terms."
Tristan carefully opened the bag and peered inside. "Yum...chocolate..." He pulled it out and took a bite. "Very good, thank you," He said politely after he'd swallowed.
"Oh, such a nice boy," Lorelai said to her daughter.
"Thank you," Tristan smiled, surprised and pleased.
"I was joking."
"Oh," Tristan deflated, something that flew past Rory but was noted by Lorelai.
"Buck up, trooper," Lorelai told him. "A couple more days of you being coffee fetcher boy and you might just get on my good side."
"Yes ma'am," Tristan nodded.
"And don't call me ma'am. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"Did I ask you to speak?" Lorelai demanded, then realized, "Okay, I guess I did."
"Alright, off you go," Rory shooed Lorelai away as her watch began to beep 9:45.
"Wait, what?" She protested.
"You have to work, as do we. You're dressed, so go. Go to the inn."
"I don't want to!" Lorelai griped.
"Mom..."
"Michel's being rude this week!"
"As opposed to every other week."
"Inconsequential."
"You need to make money," Rory said as she nudged her mother toward the front door. "We need to eat."
"Not that much, you're little, you don't need a lot of food."
Tristan watched the verbal battle as it continued, references to books and movies occasionally going over his head. He was constantly amazed at Rory's brilliance, and her easy laugh at her mother's comments charmed him.
"Hey!" A barking voice jolted him out of of his reverie.
"Yes?" He said, turning to Rory.
"Get that brain of yours to the here and now. We have to figure out something to film."
"Oh, yes," Tristan exhaled noisily. "With BLESSED."
"I guess that could work," Tristan sighed as he and Rory reviewed their film plan after an hour or two of brainstorming.
"Yeah, if by 'work' you mean 'gets us a B'," Rory moaned pathetically.
"And that would be so bad?" Tristan asked. "With a word like blessed, it's lucky we came up with anything at all."
"Yes, it would be bad," Rory crumpled up one of their discarded plans, squeezing it tightly in her hand.
"I see," Tristan said, looking down at their written outline, and opting not to argue the merits of a B. "Now we just have to get it together."
"Right. We need to find people to interview, have each of them tell us why their blessed in their lives, edit together and set it to music, and BAM. We have the formula for a B," Rory said, slamming the book shut. "This is all your fault."
"What?" Tristan said, upset.
"If you had just agreed to one of my original ideas--"
"Or you to mine--"
"Then we wouldn't be stuck with an bad word and an unoriginal, crappy idea that will probably be repeated by more than one other team!"
There was a period of silence as Rory composed herself.
"Sorry."
"No problem," Tristan shrugged, "You're right."
"Am not. It's not your fault, it's the teacher's!" She decided sadly.
"Rory, it's okay," Tristan told her, "We can make this work. We just need good interviews. Think about it, there are a lot of different interpretations on the word "blessed". I mean,you, for one example."
"Me?"
"You're blessed. You've got a mom you have a great relationship with, a small town where everyone knows everyone and the biggest crime in the last year was a missing rubber ducky..."
"Actually, Jess has somewhat upped our crime rates," Rory interjected.
"Good for him," Tristan grinned. "Anyway, you're blessed, even if it's not the textbook definition--"
"Worthy of worship, holy," Rory read off of her paper. "Held in veneration, revered."
"The way people use it doesn't mean that though, does it? It's used as a synonym for 'lucky', and that's an easier word to use."
His speech had soothed Rory's frazzled nerves. She smiled at him, granting him one of the few things that could made him nearly blush, and thanked him sweetly.
"No problem. Now, who in this town do you want to interview?"
Rory paused, her good mood reducing. A scenario unfolded in her brain. Tristan and her in the diner, interviewing Ms. Patty or Babette, Dean walking in and seeing the two of them.."Oh. That."
Tristan controlled his annoyance, "Yes, that."
"It's just that-"
"Yeah, Rory, I get it, but you want an A, don't you?" He took her silence as a yes, which it was. "So we need to interview a lot of people. Since your society is a hell of a lot more blessed than mine, we have two options. Interview your people, and risk dear old Dean seeing us and having a common psychotic moment-"
"Tristan!"
"Or we interview a couple of Chiltonites talking about their cars and clothes, and call it a project."
Rory absorbed this information, weighed the pros and cons as her reasonable mind always did, and nodded, "Right. Okay."