A/N: Thank you so much to all of the reviewers. Thanks to Summer, Loz,
Lauren, Katherine, and Helen.
Disclaimer: Chad Michael Murray is off the show. Milo Ventimiglia is soon to be off the show. There's your evidence that we don't own it.
Tristan stepped out of his car in front of his house. He handed his keys to the chauffeur, who drove off. He opened the door and stepped inside.
Since that afternoon, Tristan had been feeling a little bit guilty. Rory had truly wanted him to move in with her -- this was the opportunity he had been waiting for since he first saw her. But he wasn't able to accept the offer -- why?
For once, Tristan realized he was being the nice guy. He knew he couldn't live with Rory without a certain amount of -- ahem -- sexual desire coming out. And he knew that wasn't what she needed at the moment. She needed a friend, and he wasn't entirely positive he could be that right now, despite what he had told himself earlier.
He strolled through the open foyer; his father, William DuGrey, was sitting in the room off to the side. Tristan decided to attempt a civilized conversation with him.
"Hey Dad," Tristan said.
"Hello Tristan," William muttered absently as he turned the page in the paper. "What are you up to?"
"Oh, just hanging out with a friend," Tristan lied. More like screwing over any chances of a friend.
"Lovely," William said. Tristan hated the affected nature of his voice and speech mannerisms. "So, do you have any plans for the summer?"
"No," Tristan answered warily. It wasn't like his father to actually take an interest in his life.
"Good," William remarked. "Then you could come do an internship for me in the office."
Tristan's internal "get-away-from-Dad" radar went off in a big way. "I don't think that's a great idea," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to work for you. And nothing you say or do is going to change my mind about that."
"Tristan, you don't even know what my job is like," William told him. "You could end up loving it."
Tristan chortled. "Yeah, if taking that job means ending up in your lifestyle, thanks but no thanks." He froze.
Tristan had always read about those moments where you were thinking something, and you didn't realize it had come out of your mouth. He had never actually had one, until now. He truly had not meant for that to be said.
William looked at him. "Oh. You want to do this the hard way. Well, then. Tristan, if you don't come work for me, I have no choice but to deny you the opportunity to stay here during the summer."
Tristan stared at his father. "You've got to be kidding."
"I don't kid," William pointed out. And Tristan knew that was true.
He stood up. "Well then. Thanks for having me for a couple of days. Hope we see each other again soon."
"Tristan, wait --" William called, but Tristan was already slamming the front door shut.
He marched out to his car, further away where the chauffeur had put it. He pulled his keys from his pocket and started the car.
Tristan felt around the seat beside him and the area between it and his seat. God Damnit -- why was he so disorganized? Rory had given him her phone number earlier -- where had he dropped the sheet of paper?
As he was beginning to give up and preparing to just drive out to her house, his hand closed around a piece of Hello Kitty stationary. Score.
Tristan pulled away from the estate as he dialed his cell phone number. Eh, his cell phone. He might have to give that up -- his father paid the bills for it.
The Gilmores' phone rang twice before Lorelai picked up. "Hello?"
"Lorelai, it's Tristan."
"Oh, hello," Lorelai said, with slightly less buoyancy than she had answered the phone with. She obviously still didn't trust him.
"Is Rory around?" he asked. "I need to talk to her."
"Um, she's sitting right here," Lorelai answered. "Here she is." Tristan heard some whispers, a distinct "Give me the phone!" and then Rory came on the line.
"Hello?"
"Rory," Tristan said. "Tris here. I have a slight problem."
"What is it?"
"My father just kicked me out of the house," he informed her.
He heard her draw a sharp breath. "Why?"
"I'm a disappointment," he answered. "I don't want to join the family business. So that means I'm not his son. Blood means nothing without business ties."
Rory chuckled a little bit. "You're my dad sixteen years later."
He smiled. "Well, anyway . . . as you probably deducted, since you're a smart girl, I now have nowhere to live."
She paused for a moment. "Does that mean . . ."
"Still looking for a roommate?"
Disclaimer: Chad Michael Murray is off the show. Milo Ventimiglia is soon to be off the show. There's your evidence that we don't own it.
Tristan stepped out of his car in front of his house. He handed his keys to the chauffeur, who drove off. He opened the door and stepped inside.
Since that afternoon, Tristan had been feeling a little bit guilty. Rory had truly wanted him to move in with her -- this was the opportunity he had been waiting for since he first saw her. But he wasn't able to accept the offer -- why?
For once, Tristan realized he was being the nice guy. He knew he couldn't live with Rory without a certain amount of -- ahem -- sexual desire coming out. And he knew that wasn't what she needed at the moment. She needed a friend, and he wasn't entirely positive he could be that right now, despite what he had told himself earlier.
He strolled through the open foyer; his father, William DuGrey, was sitting in the room off to the side. Tristan decided to attempt a civilized conversation with him.
"Hey Dad," Tristan said.
"Hello Tristan," William muttered absently as he turned the page in the paper. "What are you up to?"
"Oh, just hanging out with a friend," Tristan lied. More like screwing over any chances of a friend.
"Lovely," William said. Tristan hated the affected nature of his voice and speech mannerisms. "So, do you have any plans for the summer?"
"No," Tristan answered warily. It wasn't like his father to actually take an interest in his life.
"Good," William remarked. "Then you could come do an internship for me in the office."
Tristan's internal "get-away-from-Dad" radar went off in a big way. "I don't think that's a great idea," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to work for you. And nothing you say or do is going to change my mind about that."
"Tristan, you don't even know what my job is like," William told him. "You could end up loving it."
Tristan chortled. "Yeah, if taking that job means ending up in your lifestyle, thanks but no thanks." He froze.
Tristan had always read about those moments where you were thinking something, and you didn't realize it had come out of your mouth. He had never actually had one, until now. He truly had not meant for that to be said.
William looked at him. "Oh. You want to do this the hard way. Well, then. Tristan, if you don't come work for me, I have no choice but to deny you the opportunity to stay here during the summer."
Tristan stared at his father. "You've got to be kidding."
"I don't kid," William pointed out. And Tristan knew that was true.
He stood up. "Well then. Thanks for having me for a couple of days. Hope we see each other again soon."
"Tristan, wait --" William called, but Tristan was already slamming the front door shut.
He marched out to his car, further away where the chauffeur had put it. He pulled his keys from his pocket and started the car.
Tristan felt around the seat beside him and the area between it and his seat. God Damnit -- why was he so disorganized? Rory had given him her phone number earlier -- where had he dropped the sheet of paper?
As he was beginning to give up and preparing to just drive out to her house, his hand closed around a piece of Hello Kitty stationary. Score.
Tristan pulled away from the estate as he dialed his cell phone number. Eh, his cell phone. He might have to give that up -- his father paid the bills for it.
The Gilmores' phone rang twice before Lorelai picked up. "Hello?"
"Lorelai, it's Tristan."
"Oh, hello," Lorelai said, with slightly less buoyancy than she had answered the phone with. She obviously still didn't trust him.
"Is Rory around?" he asked. "I need to talk to her."
"Um, she's sitting right here," Lorelai answered. "Here she is." Tristan heard some whispers, a distinct "Give me the phone!" and then Rory came on the line.
"Hello?"
"Rory," Tristan said. "Tris here. I have a slight problem."
"What is it?"
"My father just kicked me out of the house," he informed her.
He heard her draw a sharp breath. "Why?"
"I'm a disappointment," he answered. "I don't want to join the family business. So that means I'm not his son. Blood means nothing without business ties."
Rory chuckled a little bit. "You're my dad sixteen years later."
He smiled. "Well, anyway . . . as you probably deducted, since you're a smart girl, I now have nowhere to live."
She paused for a moment. "Does that mean . . ."
"Still looking for a roommate?"