Disclaimer: Amy and Daniel Palladino, along with the rest of the WB, own Gilmore Girls. I'm just borrowing the characters.
not4me- If you strike, I'll cry. And then stop shopping... oh, wait, wrong strike, sorry. But I'll still cry... lots. It'll be sad, and I'll make weird faces when I cry. It's not pretty.
Ms. Vaughn- I know! My procrastination skills have been failing me lately, this chapter as Exibit A. Curses, I hope it's not like this during school... Anyway, I happen to think the OC is the funniest show I've seen in a while. It's great. The only actually filmed the wedding scene in Newport... which you probably don't care about, so I'll stop. Yeah, I have an Italian friend with the last name Canatelli. Or spelled something like that, I'm not really sure. Family Guy! Family Guy rocks! I love Stewie. I just figured that even in this world, guys are obsessed with that brilliant show. Ok, you've caught me. I'm Amy Sherman-Palladino. I admit it with pride.
More thank you's to smile1, PomegranateQueen, OTHlover04, and Padfoot n' Moony. You really made it all worth it!Thank you all so much. I loved your reviews!
A/N: Do not get used to this. Please. It's very much a one time thing. All of the sudden I'm just all inspired last night. I don't know what came over me. It's 1:30, I'm not tired, and I'm just writing. It's crazy. It's not going to be long, either. At least, I don't think so. I mean, it was five notebook pages, but I forgot what that translates to in computer pages. My train of thought distresses me. I'll just write out what I have.
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The next time Tristan saw Rory was Tuesday night when Paris invited him over. He had been booted by James due to an overzealous girlfriend getting an 'A' on a test. Paris took some sort of pity on him (a foreign concept when referring to Paris) and told him to come over for a few hours.
Rory was curled up next to him n the couch studying from a thick book. She was chewing on the cap of her highlighter. Used Chinese containers were strewn on the couch, table, and floor. Neither girl seemed to notice or care, however.
Tristan flipped off the TV and announced, "I'm bored."
"You've been here fifteen minutes," Paris pointed out from her spot on the floor where she was typing up a paper for one of her pre-med classes.
"And you two have done nothing but work," he argued. "Let's go get ice cream."
Rory got up and stretched, showing a bit of skin as she raised her hands over her head. Tristan had to literally move his head away so he could concentrate on what she was saying. "Tristan's right."
"Glad you could finally see that," Tristan piped up, folding his hands behind his neck so he could lean against them.
"Don't get used to it, I just want ice cream and seeing how you've gotten into the habit of offering free food whenever I'm around..." she trailed off a little bit toward the end, then frowned and added, "I forgot where I was going with that."
"I don't have time for ice cream breaks, I have a paper to work on," Paris stressed.
"Do you want us to bring you back some?" Rory asked.
"Cookies 'n' Crème," Paris replied. She paused, and then added on an afterthought, "Please."
"We'll be back soon," Rory promised. She and Tristan grabbed their coats and made their way out. He started to his car, but Rory grabbed his wrist and pulled him the other way. "It's just a couple blocks away."
"So Paris-" Tristan began after a few minutes of silence. He unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck.
Rory nodded. "Yeah, Paris."
"She seems less stressed," he offered.
"She is," Rory agreed. "She's been better since getting a life coach."
Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Life coach?"
"She saw it on Oprah or Dr. Phil or one of those talk shows," Rory explained, turning a corner so Baskin Robins was in sight at the end of the street.
He smirked. "She never struck me as a daytime talk show kind of person, but I guess you never know."
Rory held up her hands. "Don't look at me. I was just as surprised when she became my roommate."
"And we're back to the Yale subject. Pray tell, how did you of all people end up going here?" Tristan asked, struggling to hold his smirk in place so he wouldn't start laughing.
"Yale is just as good as Harvard," Rory said defensively.
"And who brainwashed you into thinking this?" Tristan teased.
"It's true!" Rory exclaimed. "Plus I'm closer to my mom. And my grandfather went here."
"Ah, so the truth comes out," he joked, holding the door to the ice cream shop open for her.
"Hey, Sarah," Rory greeted.
Tristan smirked down at her. "You know their names?"
"In my defense, I happen to come here a lot," Rory replied. She turned back to Sarah and ordered. "Rocky Road in a cone, a cup of Cookies 'n' Crème, and-"
Rory looked at Tristan, so he took that as his cue to jump in with his order. "And a cone of Orange Sherbet."
Rory looked at him, shock evident on her face. "Orange Sherbet?"
"Have you tried it?" Tristan asked.
"No," she admitted. "If it doesn't have chocolate in it, it's not worth it."
"She who has a glass house should not throw the first stone," Tristan chastised in a playful way.
Rory rolled her eyes. "Ok, Rich Boy, get your wallet out."
Tristan thought a moment. "No."
"No?"
"No," Tristan confirmed.
"And is there going to be an explanation soon as to why you offer the ice cream and then decide not to pay for that which you suggested?" Rory asked.
"Yes. And it's a very good reason, actually." Tristan paused for dramatic effect. "You insulted my favorite ice cream. Therefore, if you don't try it, I won't pay."
Rory, who had forgotten her wallet, quickly caved in, not wanting the wrath of Sarah on her. The last time she'd forgotten her wallet, Sarah made her scoop ice cream for an hour. "Ok, fine, you win. Now pay."
As soon as they got outside, Tristan held his ice cream right in front of her mouth. She tentatively licked some off. She pondered the ice cream on her tongue a moment, before making a face and swallowing it. "I was right- if it's not chocolate, it's not worth it."
They continued walking back as Tristan chuckled. "You need to branch out a little."
"I do not! I like my rut. It's pretty; I just got the walls repainted," Rory replied.
Tristan shook his head. "Has anyone told you that you're incredibly odd?"
"Quite a few, actually, yourself included I believe," Rory said.
"I'll reiterate myself then: you're odd," Tristan said.
"Thank you," Rory replied. They both looked at each other, the same scene replaying in both of their heads, and back away again. An uncomfortable silence washed over them that lasted until they got back into the dorm.
"What took you so long?" Paris asked first thing when they stepped over the threshold.
"We were debating the Orange Sherbet. Here's you're ice cream."
Paris took the cup from Rory's out stretched hand. "What Orange Sherbet?"
Tristan held up his ice cream as he jumped onto their couch and stretched out. "This Orange Sherbet. My favorite, remember?" He kicked off his shoes and rearranged the pillows a little so they were more comfortably behind him.
Rory raised an eyebrow. "Where am I going to sit?"
Tristan patted the little space left on the couch with a leer. "I could make some room for you."
Rory rolled her eyes. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
Paris nodded in response, taking another bite of her ice cream. Rory sighed and cleared the Chinese containers off of the floor next to the couch so she could lie down and study.
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Tristan woke up with a start the next morning at 5:30. The first thing he noticed was that this was not the couch in James's suite. The second thing was that Rory Gilmore was asleep on the floor right next to the couch.
As quietly as he could, he stepped over Rory and put on his shoes. James would be asleep, so there would be no way for him to get in so he could change to go for a run. And as much as he enjoyed her company, he just couldn't bring himself to wake Rory up. So he figured there was only one logical thing he could do.
He went for a drive.
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The smell of coffee woke Rory up. She opened up her eyes to realize that she was on the floor. And Tristan was currently standing over her waving a cup of coffee in her face.
She snatched the coffee and batted his hand away. The coffee was very familiar, so familiar that it could be-
"Luke's!" she sat up quickly and took another sip. "This is coffee from Luke's. You went to Luke's!"
"I'm well aware, thank you," Tristan replied dryly.
Rory took another sip, and then realized exactly what was going on. "What're you doing here?"
He shrugged. "Woke up, saw where I was, and I wanted to thank you for letting me spend the night."
"I didn't-" The memory of last night struck her as she began to fully wake up. "Oh. You're welcome."
"It's seven," Tristan told her, anticipating that her next question would be asking for the time.
"I'd better get ready then. Eight o'clock class. I'll see you later," she said, holding up her coffee. "Thank you."
"Welcome," Tristan replied. He then looked at her as innocently as he could and asked, "You mean I'm not allowed to help you shower?"
Rory bit back a smile. "Too early for you innuendo. Good bye, Tristan."
