Janlen, delighted to see that Rory had in fact joined them, chose a small
sidewalk café for lunch. Rory had downed a pot and a half of coffee,
smirking at Tristan when Janlen betted her on whether or not she could
actually consume "an entire pot". She'd finished the pot, won the bet, and
moved on to another pot. As her prize, she could later call on a favor
from Janlen and he couldn't refuse her. With a groan and roll of his eyes,
Tristan had encouraged his grandfather to walk away from it, already
knowing the outcome. Janlen, to his credit, was stubborn and stuck it out.
"Well, young lady, now that I owe you whatever you little heart may want, how about we go over to that little park while Tristan pays?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why, that sounds marvelous!" she played along. "Bye, Tris!" she dismissed him and took the old man's arm and allowed his to escort her out. Watching them leave with a tiny chuckle, Tristan waved an arm through the air to get their bill.
"So you seem to be getting along with my grandson."
Rory was sitting on a swing and shot a playful glare toward where Janlen sat on a bench. When he met her glare and raised his chin a little higher, she shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Humph!" he snorted. "And sometimes my late wife thought she liked me. Other times she was sure she hated me. But always, she loved me."
"I'm not your late wife and Tristan certainly isn't you," Rory said vehemently.
"We'll see."
Rory looked to where the enigma sat with a serene smile, content that he had ruffled her feathers enough for the moment. "You seem to have an attachment to this park."
"Yes I do. It was one of the places I brought Tristan whenever he joined me on trips. The first time we came here, he was four. That little clown saw a puppy running loose and decided it was his duty to catch it, take it home, and teach it how to sing the 'ABC's'."
Rory laughed at the thought. Yep, teaching a dog to sing was something she could definitely see a young Tristan trying to do.
"He chased that little mutt all through here. And I do mean all through here! That child was fast, but the pup was faster. They dashed through the swing set, under the slide, around the benches, in cirles around the trees...the pup finally took a leap to land in that fountain." Janlen paused to point to where a tall, graceful fountain stood in the center of the park. Barely able to see it through her laughter, Rory waited for the inevitable ending. "My little fool was SURE he had him then, so he ran, took a dive-"
"And landed smack in the water," Tristan finished as he rounded the corner and pushed Rory's back. Rory glanced over her shoulder to where Tristan stood pushing her swing, the laughter forcing tears to her eyes at the thought of the dignified, never ruffled, suave Tristan DuGrey landing in an undignified heap in a water fountain.
"That pup decided the game was over and came to lick my grandson's face," he watched said grandson roll his eyes, "and the child decided he no longer liked the game. He cried, he splashed the dog-"
"He later took the dog home as a pet," Tristan added, hoping that it would calmed Rory's laughs at least enough to prevent her from falling off the swing. When she doubled over and held onto her stomach in a renewed fit of giggles, he gave up. When the swing came back, he grabbed the chain in one hand and slipped his other arm around her waist, holding her against him as he released the swing.
"No...fair," she managed to gasp out several minutes later. "I was having fun," she looked defiantly into the intensely blue ones watching her.
"You were gonna fall off, I helped you." The statement was simple, but Janlen took his cue.
"If you two rascals will excuse me," he watched Tristan carefully put Rory to her feet, "I'm going to go back to the hotel and rest."
"We'll go with you," Tristan said quickly, already moving forward.
"I'm not an invalid. You've got a beautiful girl, a beautiful, city, beautiful park and beautiful day. Stay and enjoy them. I can rest without help."
"We don't mind walking you ba-"Rory started, a reassuring, perky smile in place when Janlen waved his hand dismissively.
"Tut, I am a grown man and perfectly capable of walking from the park to the hotel. Would you two children stop trying to baby sit me? Now then, have fun, run all around the city, don't damage any property, I'll see you at dinner."
The two stood watching him turn and walk away, wondering how on earth one person could be so stubborn...then they looked at each other. Oh, yeah. THAT'S how one person could be so stubborn.
"So," Rory started, flopping back into her swing, "it looks like we've got the afternoon to ourselves."
"And oh, the things we could do. Maybe we should head back to the hotel..." he trailed off, sitting in the swing next to her's.
"Get over yourself," Rory rolled her eyes, trying uselessly to hide the smile that took over her features. "Hey, since it's fairly warm, maybe we could go for a dip." She cut her eyes to look at him before adding slyly, "In the fountain."
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I was four years old, Kitten."
"You wanted to teach it to sing the 'ABC's'!" she persisted emphatically, turning to sit side ways.
"You think I should have gone for 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'?"
"I think you should go find a puppy and do a reenactment. I'll choose between the two songs while you're running around the park. By the time you land in the fountain, I should have come to a decision."
"Give it up, Ror. How about some ice cream?"
"And coffee?"
"Coffee ice cream?"
"Oooh, I like you!"
"Knew you did," he smirked, taking her hand and leading her down the side walk.
"Umm, sweet frozen goodness." Rory's eyes rolled back in her head as she tasted the ice cream.
"You are something else, Rory Gilmore." Tristan laughed and sat down on the bench next to her.
"Thank you. I will take that as one of your warped and deluded ideas of flattery."
"That it is." He smiled and returned his attention to his ice cream.
"Tristan, can I ask you something?" Her face was serious and void of emotion.
"That's a good way to scare the hell out of a guy."
"Sorry." She went silent, studying the drop of ice cream running down the side of her cone.
Tristan prompted her when he realized she wasn't going to say anything else. "What were you going to ask me?"
"Why do we always end up fighting?"
"I don't know." He looked away from her. "I don't want to, it's just..."
"One of us always pushes just a little too far" He simply nodded. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I don't either."
"Ok, enough with the mushy stuff, bring on the entertainment." She downed the rest of her ice cream quickly and jumped off the bench.
"Where do you want to go?"
"Can we go terrorize the mime in the park?" She rocked back and forth like a small child.
"Is it going to get us arrested?"
"Does it matter?" She cocked a brow.
"No," He laughed and followed her as she skipped down the path.
"I didn't think so."
"How is it you can be ready to tear my head off one minute and be skipping down to humiliate a mime the next?"
"You've never spent any time with Mom. I'm mild in comparison." She shrugged. "Besides, creating a living hell for anyone dumb enough to make their living climbing imaginary ropes is enough to make anyone all warm and fuzzy inside."
"Have a real hatred for mime then do you."
"One ran over the neighbors cat once. It took us a half hour of charades to figure out what the hell he was trying to tell us. A man digging an imaginary grave to tell you your cat is dead is not high on my list of communication preferences." She looked over to see Tristan trying desperately not to laugh. "And so the war was born."
He lost the fight over his humor.
"It has become a Gilmore mission to drive every mime to the brink of insanity and then kick their mute butts right over the edge." She giggled uncontrollably at the image.
"If you ever decide to write a book about your life, please give me a pre- production copy. I don't think I could stand the suspense of waiting for it to hit the shelves."
"You really think it would be worth reading? My life story that is?"
"If the rest of it is like what you already told me, it'll wind up in the comedy hall of fame. How can it not with you and your mother as main characters?"
"Point taken." She took off in a sprint when she noticed the mime up ahead.
45 Minutes Later
"I can not believe good little Rory Gilmore got us chased out of the park by a cop."
"It wasn't my fault the guy had a panic whistle. He is supposed to be silent!" She stuck her lip out to pout and it took everything in his being not to lean down and kiss it.
He held her door open for her after she unlocked it. "Come on, I'll make you a cup of coffee to make up for the lack of mime harassing."
She looked at him suspiciously. "No decaf?"
"No decaf. I've given up. It's a pointless battle, anyway."
"Smart man." She studied his movements as he set up the coffee pot to make sure he didn't try and sneak the decaf into the filter. Satisfied that it was fully caffeinated java, she sank down into her bed and sighed. "Think there are any bad French films on TV?"
"You are really hurting for something to make fun of aren't you?"
"I'm not allowed to make fun of you anymore. It's sort of putting a cramp on my fun meter," she snickered.
"Sorry to inconvenience you." He poured them both a cup of coffee and switched on the TV before joining her on the bed. She cuddled back into the pillows and took a long swig from her mug.
"Mmm, a girl could get used to this."
"Laying in bed with me? I imagine it would be the highlight of most women's lives," he smiled playfully.
"I meant being waited on." She rolled her eyes and set down the empty mug.
"Don't get too used to it. We aren't staying that long."
"Then I guess I'll just have to find myself a poor, pathetic freshman to do my bidding when we get to Harvard."
He knew she wasn't serious but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy that someone else might get this close to her. "Or I could just play knight in shining armor and show up before you start terrorizing some unsuspecting member of my gender."
"How noble of you to volunteer yourself into slavery."
"I just know how to handle all your crap."
"Humph." She turned away from him.
"Oh, cut it out." He slid his arm under her and rolled her over to lean on him. "You know that a rookie could never handle all your neuroses."
"True," she huffed and laid her head on his chest. "It took me three years to train you."
He could feel the wicked grin on her face. "Just keep telling yourself that Mary." He was surprised she didn't pull away from him immediately. "You comfortable?"
She was about to snap at him when she realized he wasn't mocking her anymore. "Yeah." Smiling genuinely for the first time in ages, Tristan settled in to laugh at French cinema with the girl of his dreams cuddled at his side.
"Well, young lady, now that I owe you whatever you little heart may want, how about we go over to that little park while Tristan pays?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why, that sounds marvelous!" she played along. "Bye, Tris!" she dismissed him and took the old man's arm and allowed his to escort her out. Watching them leave with a tiny chuckle, Tristan waved an arm through the air to get their bill.
"So you seem to be getting along with my grandson."
Rory was sitting on a swing and shot a playful glare toward where Janlen sat on a bench. When he met her glare and raised his chin a little higher, she shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Humph!" he snorted. "And sometimes my late wife thought she liked me. Other times she was sure she hated me. But always, she loved me."
"I'm not your late wife and Tristan certainly isn't you," Rory said vehemently.
"We'll see."
Rory looked to where the enigma sat with a serene smile, content that he had ruffled her feathers enough for the moment. "You seem to have an attachment to this park."
"Yes I do. It was one of the places I brought Tristan whenever he joined me on trips. The first time we came here, he was four. That little clown saw a puppy running loose and decided it was his duty to catch it, take it home, and teach it how to sing the 'ABC's'."
Rory laughed at the thought. Yep, teaching a dog to sing was something she could definitely see a young Tristan trying to do.
"He chased that little mutt all through here. And I do mean all through here! That child was fast, but the pup was faster. They dashed through the swing set, under the slide, around the benches, in cirles around the trees...the pup finally took a leap to land in that fountain." Janlen paused to point to where a tall, graceful fountain stood in the center of the park. Barely able to see it through her laughter, Rory waited for the inevitable ending. "My little fool was SURE he had him then, so he ran, took a dive-"
"And landed smack in the water," Tristan finished as he rounded the corner and pushed Rory's back. Rory glanced over her shoulder to where Tristan stood pushing her swing, the laughter forcing tears to her eyes at the thought of the dignified, never ruffled, suave Tristan DuGrey landing in an undignified heap in a water fountain.
"That pup decided the game was over and came to lick my grandson's face," he watched said grandson roll his eyes, "and the child decided he no longer liked the game. He cried, he splashed the dog-"
"He later took the dog home as a pet," Tristan added, hoping that it would calmed Rory's laughs at least enough to prevent her from falling off the swing. When she doubled over and held onto her stomach in a renewed fit of giggles, he gave up. When the swing came back, he grabbed the chain in one hand and slipped his other arm around her waist, holding her against him as he released the swing.
"No...fair," she managed to gasp out several minutes later. "I was having fun," she looked defiantly into the intensely blue ones watching her.
"You were gonna fall off, I helped you." The statement was simple, but Janlen took his cue.
"If you two rascals will excuse me," he watched Tristan carefully put Rory to her feet, "I'm going to go back to the hotel and rest."
"We'll go with you," Tristan said quickly, already moving forward.
"I'm not an invalid. You've got a beautiful girl, a beautiful, city, beautiful park and beautiful day. Stay and enjoy them. I can rest without help."
"We don't mind walking you ba-"Rory started, a reassuring, perky smile in place when Janlen waved his hand dismissively.
"Tut, I am a grown man and perfectly capable of walking from the park to the hotel. Would you two children stop trying to baby sit me? Now then, have fun, run all around the city, don't damage any property, I'll see you at dinner."
The two stood watching him turn and walk away, wondering how on earth one person could be so stubborn...then they looked at each other. Oh, yeah. THAT'S how one person could be so stubborn.
"So," Rory started, flopping back into her swing, "it looks like we've got the afternoon to ourselves."
"And oh, the things we could do. Maybe we should head back to the hotel..." he trailed off, sitting in the swing next to her's.
"Get over yourself," Rory rolled her eyes, trying uselessly to hide the smile that took over her features. "Hey, since it's fairly warm, maybe we could go for a dip." She cut her eyes to look at him before adding slyly, "In the fountain."
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I was four years old, Kitten."
"You wanted to teach it to sing the 'ABC's'!" she persisted emphatically, turning to sit side ways.
"You think I should have gone for 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'?"
"I think you should go find a puppy and do a reenactment. I'll choose between the two songs while you're running around the park. By the time you land in the fountain, I should have come to a decision."
"Give it up, Ror. How about some ice cream?"
"And coffee?"
"Coffee ice cream?"
"Oooh, I like you!"
"Knew you did," he smirked, taking her hand and leading her down the side walk.
"Umm, sweet frozen goodness." Rory's eyes rolled back in her head as she tasted the ice cream.
"You are something else, Rory Gilmore." Tristan laughed and sat down on the bench next to her.
"Thank you. I will take that as one of your warped and deluded ideas of flattery."
"That it is." He smiled and returned his attention to his ice cream.
"Tristan, can I ask you something?" Her face was serious and void of emotion.
"That's a good way to scare the hell out of a guy."
"Sorry." She went silent, studying the drop of ice cream running down the side of her cone.
Tristan prompted her when he realized she wasn't going to say anything else. "What were you going to ask me?"
"Why do we always end up fighting?"
"I don't know." He looked away from her. "I don't want to, it's just..."
"One of us always pushes just a little too far" He simply nodded. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I don't either."
"Ok, enough with the mushy stuff, bring on the entertainment." She downed the rest of her ice cream quickly and jumped off the bench.
"Where do you want to go?"
"Can we go terrorize the mime in the park?" She rocked back and forth like a small child.
"Is it going to get us arrested?"
"Does it matter?" She cocked a brow.
"No," He laughed and followed her as she skipped down the path.
"I didn't think so."
"How is it you can be ready to tear my head off one minute and be skipping down to humiliate a mime the next?"
"You've never spent any time with Mom. I'm mild in comparison." She shrugged. "Besides, creating a living hell for anyone dumb enough to make their living climbing imaginary ropes is enough to make anyone all warm and fuzzy inside."
"Have a real hatred for mime then do you."
"One ran over the neighbors cat once. It took us a half hour of charades to figure out what the hell he was trying to tell us. A man digging an imaginary grave to tell you your cat is dead is not high on my list of communication preferences." She looked over to see Tristan trying desperately not to laugh. "And so the war was born."
He lost the fight over his humor.
"It has become a Gilmore mission to drive every mime to the brink of insanity and then kick their mute butts right over the edge." She giggled uncontrollably at the image.
"If you ever decide to write a book about your life, please give me a pre- production copy. I don't think I could stand the suspense of waiting for it to hit the shelves."
"You really think it would be worth reading? My life story that is?"
"If the rest of it is like what you already told me, it'll wind up in the comedy hall of fame. How can it not with you and your mother as main characters?"
"Point taken." She took off in a sprint when she noticed the mime up ahead.
45 Minutes Later
"I can not believe good little Rory Gilmore got us chased out of the park by a cop."
"It wasn't my fault the guy had a panic whistle. He is supposed to be silent!" She stuck her lip out to pout and it took everything in his being not to lean down and kiss it.
He held her door open for her after she unlocked it. "Come on, I'll make you a cup of coffee to make up for the lack of mime harassing."
She looked at him suspiciously. "No decaf?"
"No decaf. I've given up. It's a pointless battle, anyway."
"Smart man." She studied his movements as he set up the coffee pot to make sure he didn't try and sneak the decaf into the filter. Satisfied that it was fully caffeinated java, she sank down into her bed and sighed. "Think there are any bad French films on TV?"
"You are really hurting for something to make fun of aren't you?"
"I'm not allowed to make fun of you anymore. It's sort of putting a cramp on my fun meter," she snickered.
"Sorry to inconvenience you." He poured them both a cup of coffee and switched on the TV before joining her on the bed. She cuddled back into the pillows and took a long swig from her mug.
"Mmm, a girl could get used to this."
"Laying in bed with me? I imagine it would be the highlight of most women's lives," he smiled playfully.
"I meant being waited on." She rolled her eyes and set down the empty mug.
"Don't get too used to it. We aren't staying that long."
"Then I guess I'll just have to find myself a poor, pathetic freshman to do my bidding when we get to Harvard."
He knew she wasn't serious but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy that someone else might get this close to her. "Or I could just play knight in shining armor and show up before you start terrorizing some unsuspecting member of my gender."
"How noble of you to volunteer yourself into slavery."
"I just know how to handle all your crap."
"Humph." She turned away from him.
"Oh, cut it out." He slid his arm under her and rolled her over to lean on him. "You know that a rookie could never handle all your neuroses."
"True," she huffed and laid her head on his chest. "It took me three years to train you."
He could feel the wicked grin on her face. "Just keep telling yourself that Mary." He was surprised she didn't pull away from him immediately. "You comfortable?"
She was about to snap at him when she realized he wasn't mocking her anymore. "Yeah." Smiling genuinely for the first time in ages, Tristan settled in to laugh at French cinema with the girl of his dreams cuddled at his side.