Author: Nat

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: I'm Australian and because we're so far behind I don't think it applies… besides, it's mostly AU anyways.

Pairing: Rory/Tristan

Standard disclaimer applies

A/N: Thanks the Scar for betaing. Thanks to Sus for babysitting me through this chapter. Thanks to Surya who assured me that the fluff isn't fluff, its me being subtle. Thanks to Naters for the reference material for future chapters *smirk*. Choca, you lil slackarse… I dedicate this to you, cause you obey the letter of my laws if not the spirit.

Kayles: Jordan is in 7th grade… Currently he's 12.

Enjoy!

- The Life and Times of an Unwelcome Third Wheel -

Tristan got suspended again. And the surprising thing was Dad didn't go ballistic. Well, not much.

He and Rory fell out of a closet at school. Hardly suspension worthy, they were clothed and everything, but Tristan got dumb and told Headmaster Charleston that the only thing he saw wrong about the situation was that they had been in a closet where the door opened out rather than in and that he wouldn't make that mistake again, Rory had laughed about it and Charleston decided that 2 days off from school would be adequate time for them to think over what they had done and blah blah blah.

I think Tristan loved the idea of 2 days off school that he could spend with Rory. Of course Rory was mad at him and didn't see or speak to him for those two days, so his plan went down the toilet and then Dad dragged him to his office to do drudge work for him.

Yeah, anyway, Dad comes home, finds Tristan ensconced in front of the TV and they have a 'conversation' about what Tristan was going to do for those 2 days. Surprisingly while Dad ranted, Tristan actually listened. He didn't interrupt or argue or anything. I think that was the only thing that saved his ass. Dad had been threatening a Rory ban during out of school hours.

And while that would of sucked, cause Rory is fun and Tristan is a million times easier to get along with when she's around, it would have been great to see Tristan suffer. In more ways than one.

I used to listen in on their phone conversations a lot after I first met Rory. Tristan eventually broke me of that habit by gluing the phone to my hand. But I listened into the conversation when she called him. The first time they spoke to each other since they were suspended.

*

The door opened and Lorelai stomped in. "I'm sick of mopey boring Rory. I want my fun Rory back. Call him."

She threw the phone on the bed next to Rory and closed the door behind her. Rory looked at the phone a few minutes before dialling and putting it to her ear.

"Dugrey residence, Jordan speaking."

"Hey Jordan, it's Rory, is Tristan available?"

"Yeah, hang on I'll get him." Jordan replied.

"Thanks." There was some yelling and then Tristan yelled into the phone for Jordan to hang up, making Rory wince at the loud noise.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Rory paused, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She could hear his grin.

"For not talking to you for the past few days."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I got you suspended."

"Not entirely your fault." Rory rolled to lie on her back. "I mean I was there too. In the closet."

"Yeah, I remember." She blushed at the tone of his voice before he cleared his throat. "Still, I shouldn't have cracked that joke."

Rory hadn't laughed at the joke, it really hadn't been that funny. She had laughed because she was at that point of hysteria where she either laughed at the situation or broke down in a blubbering mess of nerves and sheer, unadulterated humiliation.

"Probably not the best idea you've ever had."

"So, make up work, you wanna study this weekend?" She could hear him smiling.

"I haven't missed any work."

"What, how did you manage that?"

"Madeline has been faxing me stuff each day. And it's not like I had anything better to do."

"That's cheating!" She laughed, Tristan actually sounded offended. "Now I'm not going to get to see you this weekend."

"You should have thought about that before you spent all your time lazing around by your pool and TV."

"Ahh, but I didn't smarty pants. Dad made me go to work with him."

"Lucky you."

"It wasn't so bad." Tristan sounded sincere enough so Rory left it. "So, does Lorelai hate me even more now?"

"Would you be surprised if I told you that after her initial freak out she actually offered to buy me new shoes for, and I quote 'a reward for finally behaving like a teenager and not a sixty year old'?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, then she went on for an hour about all the times and ways she got suspended."

Tristan laughed again. "So if I were to show up on your doorstep sometime this weekend, she wouldn't come at me with something sharp? Like scissors or a knife?"

"I make no guarantees when it comes to her. And you. It's like oil and water, or maybe not water, oil and sparks maybe."

"So this whole thing where you didn't talk to me forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever, two days, same thing."

"Hardly."

"Felt the same."

"Well that was sufficiently sappy. Let's not have another line like that one."

Tristan smirked hearing her laughter. "Alright then. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Talk to me? You avoided my calls, hell, you even avoided it when I made Jordan call you for me."

"I could hear you telling him to give you the phone in the background."

"Ahh. So?"

"'Cause I freaked out."

"About what?"

"I got suspended, Tristan! Me! Going-to-Harvard-have-set-all-my-goals-to-achieve-it-Rory Gilmore! I'm not that girl that makes out in closets at school, I don't get suspended, I don't get sent to the Headmasters office for PDA's! I'm perfect Rory Gilmore." Rory gasped for breath.

"You're not perfect Rory, far from it."

"I'm supposed to be."

"Well, you're not and I love you anyway."

"What did I say about the sappy lines?"

"Yeah, whatever. The point is that no one's perfect Rory. You're seventeen. You're supposed to make mistakes and do dumb things."

"Well, I don't want to," she stated stubbornly, slapping a foot to her bed.

"Great philosophy, boring-as-shit life."

"And, as usual, it's been charming to talk to you. I'll see you at school, Tristan."

"Wait! Come on, Ror, when are you gonna realise that that's your M.O?"

"My M.O?" Rory snorted, "Too much NYPD for you babe."

"Seriously, it's what you do. You do something, then you think 'oh no, that's not something perfect-little-me should do' then you freak out and take a couple of days to calm down and then you realise that it wasn't the end of the world after all. And I don't watch that show, give me some credit."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! First time we kissed, well okay, second time. First time we ever did anything even remotely sexual, from first base to all the way. First time you stayed overnight here, first time I stayed there at your house. First time I got you drunk, which ok, probably you were right to freak out at me about that one, but then there was also the time you freaked out about-"

"I get the point, Tristan." Rory interrupted. "And who uses the base system anymore?"

"Would you rather I told you in more graphic terms? Okay, how about when I fingered you for the first time, remember that? We were having lunch in Central Park after spending the morning at the Guggenheim and you-"

"I remember Tristan. But I don't really, do I?"

"Freak out? Run away? Yes."

"I don't mean to."

"I know. It's not the worst thing in the world, you know, just frustrating at times."

"Sorry."

"Forget about it. This whole conversation got off track anyway. Let's get back to the reason I called you."

"Which was?"

"This weekend."

"Yes but I don't need to catch up on any school work."

"Okay, well, I didn't really want to do school work anyway, it was code for 'get you to my house and do nefarious things to your naked body without having your Mother know what I really have planned for you'."

"Right. Great code, Morse."

Rory grinned again as Tristan put on a faux British accent. "What can I say? I'm clever like that. So, do I get to see you this weekend?"

"Morse was an American."

"Rooorrrryyyy."

"God, don't whine, you sound like you're twelve years old."

"And we sure as shit don't need another one of those around."

"Tristan."

"Did I tell you he had a fight with Dad the other day?"

"Jordan? Really? What about?"

"I dunno, I wasn't paying that much attention, but now I know he's not a complete loser. There's some hope for him yet."

"He never was a loser."

"Yeah, well, for a while there I was thinking of calling him Pinocchio."

"Pinocchio?"

"Little puppet boy who's maker pulls his strings."

"You're horrible."

"Sometimes." She could hear the truth of it in his statement. "I think Dad was actually proud that he stood up to him."

"He said that?"

"Of course not. He said that Jordan was being disobedient and would be dealt with accordingly."

"And?"

"And nothing. I told you he was proud about it."

"You have the weirdest family."

"Says the girl who's mother is known far and wide for-"

"Be nice." Rory warned.

"I had no intentions not to be nice."

"Sure. What were you going to say then?"

"Give me a minute and I'll come up with something appropriate."

She grinned. "I'll bet."

"Okay, so this weekend?"

"I'll think about it."

"You know what happens to boys when girls are all talk and tease and no action don't you, Mary?"

"No, why don't you tell me?"

"It's a very, very serious condition called blue-"

"Goodbye, Tristan."

"Come on, what's a little phone sex before bed between lovers?"

"I'll see you at school, Tristan."

"Night, Rory."

Rory hung up the phone smiling.

*

It wasn't a fight. More of a disagreement, I guess. Tristan can be such a drama queen sometimes. I mean, this is the guy who, when he was 10, told his teacher that he was going to have to go to hospital or he was going to die when he fell off the jungle gym and bumped his head.

And it was over something really dumb, something so dumb I don't even remember what it was now. Whatever. He didn't bring it up again and neither did I.

But there was a subtle shift in our relationship. Ha! Subtle is our English class word of the day, Medina would be happy. I think it's the first time I've actually even bothered to try and fit one of the words in a sentence.

Anyway, after the argument, he started to ask my opinion on things. Just on small things like, what did I think about such-and-such a book, or, what did I think about whatever or whoever. It was like he didn't think I could have an opinion until then, or maybe a better way to say it was he didn't think I could have a valid opinion until I actually stepped up and gave him that first one.

He was far from having the same conversations with me that he had with Tristan, but whatever, like I give a fuck about America's foreign debt.

Maybe one day, right now I have enough trouble understanding my trig homework.