A/N: I know it's been awhile since I've updated but with Spring finally here it seems that I just don't have enough hours in the day. Keep reviewing and enjoy! It's almost time for Tristan to show up. And coming soon the arrival of Logan. Can't wait for new Gilmore Girls episodes. Check back in, I swear I'll have the next chapter- Tristan and Rory reunited- up by the end of the week.
Once again, I do not claim any rights to the characters in my story. They are the sole creations of the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino and Co. But I do express my utmost gratitude to them for providing us with such amazing characters to relate and believe in.
Chapter 5: The Oncoming Battle
"Gilmore, what's with the stupid grin?" Paris asked as Rory sat down in the chair next to her and the mystery man from earlier.
"My mom's pregnant!" Rory exclaimed barely able to contain her excitement. She was already trying to figure out when she could finagle some vacation time to go home for a visit.
"Lorelei?" Paris scoffed incredulous. Rory's mother was at least forty. Who had kids at forty now a days was all she could think. But secretly she was pleased. Lorelei had always been more than just nice to her. Her own parents were nice to Paris, but Lorelei actually cared about her. It had been an awkward feeling to find herself the object of more than obligatory affection by this strange woman. But the Gilmore family had included her in their close circle of friends, and that meant what made them happy made her happy.
"No silly, my other mother- of course Lorelei! I know, I know, she's forty, but she's healthy and strong, and she's having twins. Oh my god Paris, she's having twins!" Rory chattered on until she finally noticed the man sitting next to Paris.
"I'm sorry, you must think me crazy, I'm Rory Gilmore-Danes," Rory finally said sticking her hand out to the man who gazed at her with an amused and slightly confused smirk.
"Dylan Brash, nice to mee-" Dylan started to say to the petite brunette sitting next to Paris.
"He's some hot shot from CNN that Charlie's stuck me with to come up with some new partner show between us and them. I told you that CNN hires a bunch of hacks, and it would only be a matter of time before they came sniffing round here," Paris lectured waving towards Dylan. She knew she was being rude and that Dylan had done nothing to earn her disliking him, except for being Jamie's brother.
"Paris, how many times do I have to tell you that CNN is not some evil secret society out to brainwash America? I'm sure you're a great reporter Dylan, welcome aboard," Rory said to Dylan. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
"He's not a reporter Ror- he's a big wig station manager- come slumming down here to rub his status in Charlie's face," Paris sneered wishing she could control this mean streak coursing through her veins.
"Ok that's enough Paris. I don't know what it is you have against me, but that's enough. I can take the sarcastic pot shots and the character jabs, but there's only so much crap I'm willing to put up with," Dylan finally stated. He didn't raise his voice or get agitated. The declaration was done at a low volume that made his position clear and caused both young women to take a closer look at him.
"I… uh… apologize?" was all Paris could say not sure why she suddenly felt the need to grovel for his forgiveness. This caused Rory to stop and stare at Paris, and then quickly reevaluate mystery man. It was rare to hear Paris apologize; this day was getting more and more interesting.
"Listen, there's some history between Charlie and I; it's not all pretty but we do go way back. I'm here to do my job and he obviously thinks highly of you if he has you working with me. If there's one thing I know about Charlie it's that he doesn't do things half ass. So let's call a truce on the mudslinging and just get this done. Ok?" Dylan asked hoping he wouldn't have to explain any more than that. The silence that ensued was either good news or merely the calm before the storm.
"No dice Brash. But for right now I'll call a temporary truce. And just for your information, this is so far from over. In fact, with that little pitch you just made- all those pretty words mixed with just the right amount of force- you've just piqued my interest even more. Are you sure you didn't have some illegitimate love child with Charlie's ex or daughter? Why the strained relationship Dyl? There's going to be plenty of time to figure this out because like Charlie I don't do things half ass either. After all I learned from the best," Paris answered staring him straight in the eyes. She had been tempted to just agree with him, and then realized that he was trying to hide something. No one hid things from Paris Gellar. No one.
"I hate to interrupt this lovely debate, and Dylan, let me just say how glad I am to have someone else around for Paris to argue with, but Charlie's about to start the meeting," Rory interjected laughing to herself at the tension radiating from the two people sitting next to her.
"Ok, girls and boys, that's it for now, keep up the good work," Charlie wrapped up heading back towards his office. He had managed to avoid looking over at Dylan Brash the entire meeting. Yet between discussing new story ideas and getting updates on current ones, he felt this strange sense of déjà vu. Suddenly it was just like he was back working the desk at CNN. What was Dylan really doing here?
"Charlie we need to talk," Dylan said following the older man into his office and shutting the door behind him.
"Brash, there's nothing much to say, go with Paris, do your job; she'll keep you on your toes, but she's a damn good reporter," Charlie started to say when a horrible thought crossed his mind.
"Is that what you're here for? Are you headhunting? Is this just an elaborate ploy to recruit my staff?" Charlie accused pacing his small office.
"That's ridiculous Charlie, I don't play those kind of games, and you should know that," Dylan started to say but was cut off by the glare being shot at him by his former mentor.
"Do I Dylan? Because last time I checked I had taken you under my wing at CNN, taught you everything I knew, and suddenly was being told that I was no longer needed. You took my job away like it was nothing. I had worked my entire lifetime to get there and with nothing more than a thanks for everything and a cheap store bought cake, I'm out on my ass. I will not sit back this time and help you ruin everything I've built here," Charlie finally shouted not caring who heard him.
"You still think I had any say about that decision Charlie? Yah I could have said no to taking the station manager position. But you know what? It wouldn't have mattered; they would have had someone else in there before the ink on the contract was dry. You were being phased out. It sucked but I figured you'd rather see me succeed than some idiot upstart you'd never met. I guess that was where I was wrong," Dylan yelled back.
When Roger, the head of personnel, had offered him Charlie's job he had been ready to say thanks, but no thanks; in fact, he had said exactly that, and Roger had asked him the million-dollar question. Was he saying no because he didn't want the job, or because he didn't want to hurt Charlie's feelings? Dylan had looked Roger in his dull brown eyes and had answered that he didn't stab co-workers in the back. Roger sneered and told him to take the job or he'd have somebody else in their by Monday, and both Charlie and Dylan would be unemployed. He had signed his contract fifteen minutes later. And twenty-four hours later he watched as his mentor packed a single cardboard box of his things, and walked head high out of the CNN newsroom.
"Dammit Brash, I know I was being phased out, but you could have said something to warn me it was coming," Charlie finally said sitting at last. He suddenly looked old and worn out.
"I'm sorry for that, but can't we move on? This is a great opportunity to link the station with your paper. I need you to back me up on this, convince Paris to…" Dylan started to say before Charlie started to laugh under his breath.
"Convince Paris Gellar… now that, my boy, is something you are going to need to do on your own. I told you once, the girl- excuse me woman- is one hell of a reporter but she's headstrong, stubborn, brilliant- and knows it. You need to prove to her that you're worth her time," Charlie said laughing at the situation. It had been ingenious to pare these two up.
"And maybe you're right Dylan, it's time to put the past to rest. It just hurt to be let go like that, and not have you say anything at all. But it's good to see you again," Charlie concluded taking a deep breath. He had been keeping the pain of what he considered a monstrous betrayal locked up and festering inside for years. With Dylan back and making an attempt to apologize, it felt like a long overdue salve being rubbed on a raw and infected wound. He looked at the young man he had once thought of as the son he'd never had and saw that he had become just that, a man. He lay to rest the anger and resentment, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Charlie?" Dylan started to say not sure what more he could do to prove that he had also felt the loss of more than just a simple friendship all those years ago.
"Dylan, my advice is to never underestimate Ms. Gellar- or you will find yourself flat on your ass with her foot at your throat," Charlie continued tabling the past and moving on to the future. A look of relief flashed through both men's eyes and the tension in the air slowly started to dissipate like the fog burning off in the early morning sun. He hadn't gotten this far in the journalism world to let old emotions drag him or his newspaper down.
"She's only been here for two years Charlie, how good can she be? Can't you just tell her to work with me?" Dylan asked relieved that it looked as if the bridge between mentor and mentoree might eventually be rebuilt. He found himself wondering why he couldn't handle this Paris like everyone else he worked with. Why did he suddenly feel like some six year old kid begging the teacher to make the bully stop picking on him.
"OK Brash, I'll try it your way," Charlie replied throwing Dylan off. Opening his door he yelled out to Paris to please come into his office.
"What's going on here? Are you having a meeting without me present Brash?" Paris asked looking irritated.
"Paris, Dylan here is just trying to do his job. I'd appreciate it if you gave him your complete cooperation," Charlie said in his most professional voice.
"What Brash? Couldn't handle the pressure of working with a real reporter, so you asked my editor to step in and ask me to play nice? I'm disappointed. Charlie, you know I'll do whatever it takes to get this project off the ground and running, but playing nicey-nice with boy wonder here isn't in my job description," Paris concluded before walking out of his office.
"Good luck Dylan, you're going to need it," Charlie said smirking and shaking his head slightly.
"Hi, I'm with the Washington Tribune, I'm here for my two o'clock meeting with Mr. DuGrey," Rory said politely showing the perky secretary her credentials.
"Ok, Ms. Danes, please take a seat, I'll inform Tris- I mean...Mr. Dugrey that you're here," the blond replied catching herself in mid sentence. Thinking to herself that Tristan must not have changed all that much if he still surrounded himself with bubbly airheads, Rory took a seat on the plush leather couch.
The office was well decorated and had all the right understated signs of wealth oozing out of every corner. From the butter soft couches to the nouveau rich artwork, the little touches all around the room screamed old and distinguished money.
"Mr. DuGrey will see you now," the young secretary, whose name plate informed Rory that her name was Missy, said teetering back into the waiting area. The girl had to be in four-inch stilettos, with a skirt that couldn't have been much shorter without being indecent.
"Thanks Missy," Rory answered noting that the girl seemed surprised to hear her own name.
"Yah no problem," the girl said airily, already more interested in the fashion magazine laying open on her desk.
Rory gathered her notes and her nerves and slowly started walking down the corridor towards the partially open doorway. She had felt a wide range of emotions on her ten-minute drive over to the Senator's headquarters. Fear had somehow clawed it's ugly way to the surface of her mind, and her heart was beating a mile a minute, and with every step closer to seeing Tristan DuGrey again, Rory also felt a strange milieu of nostalgia, excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. Her blue eyes were slightly wider than normal, and as she raised her hand to knock on the solid oak door in front of her, she attempted to steel her nerves for what felt like an oncoming battle.