A/N: Thanks to all your reviews. You make me feel loved. And I love feeling loved... if that makes any sense...? Well anyways, read and review at the end!

Disclaimer: I own the lawyer company, and the school, and everything in them... you know the pencils, paper, chairs... etc.

Summary: Look at chapter 2, which says look at chapter 1.

Chapter 3: Girl from Mars

Tristan looked up at a young woman. About his age. She looked nervous, for some reason. Her feet were tapping to an unknown beat, arm holding the other.

But when he got to her face, he knew her. From somewhere. But where? Those blue eyes, and short, shoulder-length brunette hair, he knew them.

"Name?"

Tristan decided to cut right to the chase.

"Maiden or...?"

And that voice.

"You're marriage name," Tristan replied.

"Lorelai Kensing."

He looked up to her in awe.

Ah. It was her. The girl from high school. The girl that held and still holds his heart.

"Mary?" he asked, uncertain.

Rory rolled her eyes, "Do you still have to call me that?"

Wow. It really was her.

"Long time, no see," he said, pointing to the chair, "Sit."

Rory bowed her head and did what she was ordered.

"What are you here for?" Tristan asked, leaning back in his seat.

"I need a divorce," she replied.

"Well, you came to the right place."

Rory smiled a bit to the cheesy line, her head still down.

"You look good," Tristan said, trying to make her look in his eyes.

She did. "Thanks, you too. I haven't seen you since... that night of Romeo and Juliet."

"Yeah, how'd that go?"

"Fine, how was military school?"

Tristan put his arms out to the room, "Got me here."

Rory chuckled a bit. Then diverted her attention out the window, to a rainy day.

Tristan saw the hurt in her eyes and how she easily dazed out. Whatever this 'Kensing' guy did to her, it must have been bad.

"Um, here are our fees for having a divorce."

"Oh, right you need money," Rory looked down and panicked. She didn't have any money, "You probably want me to leave, if I can't pay you right."

He saw her start to gather up her stuff. "No!" he tried to make her stop, "You don't have any money?"

"God, no. I'm a teacher, and they don't make as much money as you think."

Tristan laughed nervously. He thought of what he could do. He could send her out; he could send her to a cheaper lawyer.

"I'll pay for you," he blurted out, not really thinking about it.

"Tristan, no, you can't-."

"No, I see you really need this, and think of it as a... 'Sorry for my behavior in high school' thing."

Rory looked at him skeptically. Did he really want to pay for this divorce?

She could honestly say she didn't know.

But she really did need the money. So she accepted.

(A/N: I don't really know what they do, so I am going to go ahead, and skip to the last of the appointment.)

"And if there is anything you need, just let me know," Tristan said truthfully.

"No, I don't think so, but here is my address." She then wrote down the address on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

When Rory exited the room, he looked down at the white shade of paper.

Oh, no, she could not live there.

-¤-¤-¤-

Tristan approached the building with weariness.

He was wrong: she, in fact, lived there.

As he drew near it, he noticed all the thugs outside of it, just an accident waiting to happen.

When he went into the lobby- if you could call it that – he saw people in torn clothing and smoking god knows what. The walls were a faded green, with holes in them, so you could see the interior. The furniture was what he thought was supposed to be a maroon color, only there were stains in it, and burn holes in it.

As he went up to her door, he noticed how many people were huddled in this tiny apartment building. And it was a lot.

He knocked on her door. And he heard the person behind the door trip over to get to it.

Finally, they opened it.

"Tristan."

"Hey, Rory."

"Come on in," she motioned him with her hand, and he did as he was told. "It's kind of a mess at the moment."

Tristan looked around at her apartment. There was another bed in the room, and he figured that she was sharing the room with someone. He saw Rory's stuff in boxes by the other bed, and saw how little space she had to put it all.

"Um, Rory?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"This is a really horrible place."

"Well, I am not really made of money, if you hadn't known already," she replied sardonically.

"Do you need money?"

"No-"

"No, I need a truthful answer, Rory."

Rory looked out the window again. "I am behind a bit."

"How big a bit?"

"Oh, quite a big chunk. But you don't have to worry, I'm fine."

"Rory, I know what it's like here. You shouldn't be living in this kind of environment."

"Tristan, I can hardly afford –this-!" she moved her hands around the room. What the hell do you want me to do?"

"Here," he started to reach for his wallet.

"No, I am not taking anymore money from you."

"Rory-"

"No!" she looked at him for a second. "Now let's do what you came here to do."

They spent the next hour minutes straitening out paperwork, and having her sign her part, him explaining what it was for.

"And right here," he pointed to a line with an x on the side.

She signed for the fortieth time and put her pen down, signaling time for a break.

"I don't want to take all the money," she said suddenly, looking into his eyes.

"Why?"

"We don't have a lot; he needs it."

Tristan chuckled internally. The same old Rory: willing to make other people go ahead of herself.

But then he thought.

If she wouldn't take –his- money, then how could he help her?

Option #1: He could force her.

Option #2: He could fix her relationship, although he didn't want to.

Option #3: He could give her a room at his place.

Option #4: He could help her get a new job, one contributing more money.

As he thought, Rory looked at him intently. She saw his suit, and business shoes.

She hated herself for getting him as her lawyer.

What was she thinking? Was she mad? Did she need a mental institution? He was a high working rich guy, and she was still the 'Mary': poor and innocent.

Did he want something in return for being so nice to her? She wondered. How could he not? It was –Tristan-, for god's sake!

"Look" they both said at the same time.

The two laughed.

"You go first," Tristan offered.

Rory inhaled... exhaled. "Do you want anything in return for what you are doing?"

Tristan smiled at the question. Didn't he already go through this before? "No," he said simply.

"But, you-"

"Mary, I don't want anything... at –all- and if I did I would have told you so."

Rory stared at her sneakers, silent.

"Now, for my question."

A/N: Okay, I'm tired of writing. Review. Tell me what I should do. Cause right now, I have no idea. I know, rushed. But I wanted to make it happen in this chapter. Sorry for the time, I went camping for a week, and... well, I just got back today. So please tell me what you think.

!Paige!