Okay. I'm back and I lied. This was way more than a short period of time. Sorry! The disclaimer was on the last page, if you didn't see it go back and check. On with the story.

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"So, Mary, you here by yourself?" asked Tristan as he pulled out the second chair and sat down.

Rory opened her mouth to say something, but before she could a teenage girl approached the table. She was tall with brown hair and blonde highlights. Tristan knew she was Rory's daughter immediately. She had Rory's bright baby blue eyes. "Here's you mocha, Mom. Extra tall, triple foam, double caffeine with cinnamon sprinkled on top."

"Mary, Mary, a bit of an overdose don't you think?" Tristan asked, eyeing the drink in shock.

"Mom, why is there a strange man sitting in my seat and why is he calling you Mary?"

Rory ignored her daughter. "Shut up, Tristan. You of all people should know that if I don't have coffee in my bloodstream I get mean."

"Oh, yes, it would be hard to forget the hot chocolate incident."

"What hot chocolate incident?" The teen was interested. Clearly, this man knew things about her mother that she didn't know.

"Oh, I once tried giving your mother hot chocolate instead of coffee. She dumped it on top of my head and refused to talk to me for a week."

"You stupid, stupid man. Grandpa once tried to give her decaf. That isn't as crazy a move as it would have been if he'd attempted it with my grandmother, but she still wouldn't enter the diner for a month."

*nananananana-nananananana-nanananananana-nananananana* a cell phone went off to the tune of "Happy Birthday," and the teenager immediately reached into her bag to pull it out. Pushing the talk button she started walking around the table in circles.

"Hello?" she asked. "Oh, hi Dad." She paused to listen. "Yeah, we're in a coffee shop in Manhattan." She paused again. "Spa day." Once more, she paused. "Okay. I'll tell her. Yeah."

While she talked with her father on the phone Tristan leaned over to Rory. "Is it her birthday?"

Rory gave him a strange look. "No, why would you think that?"

"Her phone plays 'Happy Birthday.'"

"Yeah, well, it's someone in the world's birthday."

"Good point. I never thought about it that way."

"Most people don't, don't feel bad for your extreme stupidity."

The comfortable banter kept up for a few more minutes until Rory's daughter got off the phone. "Hey Mom, can we go book hunting now?"

"Sure sweetie," Rory turned back to Tristan. "You want to come? We're just going in search of some first edition books…and probably more coffee."

"What else is new. I'd love to come, and I know a great coffee shop slash book store just a few blocks away. They've got a lot of classics."

"Great."

As they left the small café and headed back out onto the streets of New York Tristan couldn't help but feel rejuvenated. He loved his daily bantering sessions with Rory, but after not seeing her for so long he was a bit out of practice. The three headed down the block as a memory of another squabble came to Tristan.

*Flashback*

Rory walked to the door a look of disgust on her face as Tristan was arriving. "Oh, coming to greet me?" he asked, the usual smirk on his face.

"Hello Tristan." She did not look happy.

"So where's my birthday kiss." He held out his cheek to her as the disgusted look grew to a tormented and disgusted look.

"It's my birthday." She emphasized the 'my,' sometimes he just didn't get it.

"So I'll give you a birthday kiss." She had to admit it. He was good. He never failed to make her slightly nervous, and his confidence was unflappable.

"What is wrong with you?" Of course, Rory was just as unflappable, if not more so.

"Ok, I gotta tell you something. I'm madly in love with you."

"Well, good luck with that."

"I can't eat, I can't sleep…I wake up in the middle of the night calling your name." He paused for the dramatic effect, and then softly continued, "Rory, Rory!"

"Would you shut up please?"

The intelligent banter that would probably have followed this (somewhat) sarcastic confession on Tristan's part was cut short by the arrival of Rory's grandfather. "Rory, who's your friend?"

"I don't know, but this is Tristan."

Her insult was lost on Richard, "excuse me?"

"Tristan DuGrey, sir." Tristan extended his hand, exactly the way he'd been taught by his father. Years of meet and greets with prominent adults had taught him to respect his elders, at least on the outside.

Of course, Richard had to recognize the name immediately, much to Rory's disgust and Tristan's pleasure, "DuGrey? Are you any relation to Janlen DuGrey?"

"That's my grandfather, sir."

"Well I've done business with Janlen for years. He's a fine man."

"That he is."

Turning to Rory, Richard complimented his granddaughter. "Rory, you've got very good taste in friends. I approve."



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There you have it. Chapter two. I've given up on reviews, but if you'd like to leave one than please do, just because I've given up on them doesn't mean I don't like them.

My website- www.geocities.com/besstofthebest.