Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to ASP and the WB. Although I wish I could own Tristan... stares off into space =P
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Here's Chapter 3-
-Car, Star's Hollow-
"Stop!"
Tristan slammed on the brakes. "What? Was there a dog or something, I didn't see anything." Aww, he's nervous... the look on his face is just... stop!
"Oh, no. I desperately need coffee." Okay, what's that look for? I only have one head! I think.
"Coffee. Are you kidding me? It's like ten thirty at night!" Uh-huh.
"And?" He was being so good before, too. I like nice Tristan. Not LIKE like, of course. No.
"Why are we stopped at a... hardware store?" urg. Non-natives.
"Oh, just get out of the car."
"Bossy, I like it." must... have... coffee. cannot... shoot... Tristan.
We walk into Luke's, where he's looking expectantly at his last customer, waiting for him to leave. Kirk, of course.
"Um, Mare, this place seems like it's... closing?" How little he knows. We sit on two of the barstools at the counter.
"Not for me. Luke, can I please, please, please have two cups of coffee?"
"Who is that?" Yes... coffee... sooo close... ahhhhhhhhhh.... "Rory?"
"Huh? Oh, that's Tristan." Ooh. He's giving Tristan an evil look. "He saved me from the grandparents' lovely party." He nods and starts to move away to work on Kirk again.
"Luke, wait. The pot?" The puppy dog eyes. Get him every time.
"So, this is your town, huh?"
"Yep. Small town, USA. You're lucky it's pretty late, otherwise we'd have gawkers."
"Gawkers?"
"Yeah. And lots of people making frantic phone calls trying to figure out who you are. It's what I like to call the fishbowl effect."
"Fishbowl?"
"Yeah. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing."
"Hey, Luke, are we done?" comes a voice from the back.
Oh, god. How stupid am I? I blame the lack of caffeine to the brain. Must run. Finish coffee. Done. Grab Tristan. Done. Oops, spilled his coffee. Oh, well. Get out. 'Ding.' Done.
-Tristan-
"Hey, Luke, are we done?" comes a masculine voice from the back of this diner Rory's dragged me to.
I look over at Rory, and her eyes go as big as saucers. She gulps down the full cup of coffee in front of her, grabs my arm, while I am drinking, mind you, and hauls me out of the diner. When did it start raining? What is up with her?
"Uh, Mare, what was that all about?" Somehow in the small distance from the diner to the car we are both soaked. "Mare? Rory?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Um, my house is just down this street." What was up with that back there?
"What was that?"
"Oh, just someone I didn't want to talk to." A whole lot, obviously. God, I hate summer storms. One second, fine. The next, you can't see two feet in front of you.
"Turn in here." She sounds shaky. Is it because she's wet or because of whoever that was back there? Her dress is nearly see through... must keep eyes on the road. Or the house, since apparently we're there. "Thanks for the ride, Tristan."
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Here's Chapter 3-
-Car, Star's Hollow-
"Stop!"
Tristan slammed on the brakes. "What? Was there a dog or something, I didn't see anything." Aww, he's nervous... the look on his face is just... stop!
"Oh, no. I desperately need coffee." Okay, what's that look for? I only have one head! I think.
"Coffee. Are you kidding me? It's like ten thirty at night!" Uh-huh.
"And?" He was being so good before, too. I like nice Tristan. Not LIKE like, of course. No.
"Why are we stopped at a... hardware store?" urg. Non-natives.
"Oh, just get out of the car."
"Bossy, I like it." must... have... coffee. cannot... shoot... Tristan.
We walk into Luke's, where he's looking expectantly at his last customer, waiting for him to leave. Kirk, of course.
"Um, Mare, this place seems like it's... closing?" How little he knows. We sit on two of the barstools at the counter.
"Not for me. Luke, can I please, please, please have two cups of coffee?"
"Who is that?" Yes... coffee... sooo close... ahhhhhhhhhh.... "Rory?"
"Huh? Oh, that's Tristan." Ooh. He's giving Tristan an evil look. "He saved me from the grandparents' lovely party." He nods and starts to move away to work on Kirk again.
"Luke, wait. The pot?" The puppy dog eyes. Get him every time.
"So, this is your town, huh?"
"Yep. Small town, USA. You're lucky it's pretty late, otherwise we'd have gawkers."
"Gawkers?"
"Yeah. And lots of people making frantic phone calls trying to figure out who you are. It's what I like to call the fishbowl effect."
"Fishbowl?"
"Yeah. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing."
"Hey, Luke, are we done?" comes a voice from the back.
Oh, god. How stupid am I? I blame the lack of caffeine to the brain. Must run. Finish coffee. Done. Grab Tristan. Done. Oops, spilled his coffee. Oh, well. Get out. 'Ding.' Done.
-Tristan-
"Hey, Luke, are we done?" comes a masculine voice from the back of this diner Rory's dragged me to.
I look over at Rory, and her eyes go as big as saucers. She gulps down the full cup of coffee in front of her, grabs my arm, while I am drinking, mind you, and hauls me out of the diner. When did it start raining? What is up with her?
"Uh, Mare, what was that all about?" Somehow in the small distance from the diner to the car we are both soaked. "Mare? Rory?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Um, my house is just down this street." What was up with that back there?
"What was that?"
"Oh, just someone I didn't want to talk to." A whole lot, obviously. God, I hate summer storms. One second, fine. The next, you can't see two feet in front of you.
"Turn in here." She sounds shaky. Is it because she's wet or because of whoever that was back there? Her dress is nearly see through... must keep eyes on the road. Or the house, since apparently we're there. "Thanks for the ride, Tristan."