AN: Been working on my computer, well, the hubby is, and I've not had access to typing for extended amounts of time during these 'fix-it' sessions. Sorry for the delay. Thanks again and again for all the reviews, I love hearing all your comments.

Classes began a few days later, sending everyone suddenly back into the sudden rigors of a set schedule and under the constraints of deadlines. It was a palpable shift from the prior week of discovery and impromptu gatherings. Rory felt this as much as anyone, but she tended to thrive better under order and timetables. She was chipper amid the crowd of frenzied people, anxious to get their routines down. Hers was down instantaneously, as she moved from place to place. She was passing by Dan's room, on her way back to study, humming happily to herself.

"Hey!" came an accusatory voice coming from Dan's room.

She stopped and put her head in to see Dan and Tristan, books open and music blaring.

"Hey," she smiled more at Tristan than Dan. His smile formed quickly out of the frown he had been sporting, obviously concentrating on whatever it was that he had been focusing on. He patted the space next to him on Dan's bed, and she moved over to join him.

"Okay, first of all—there will be no funny business on my bed, I want to see all of your hands at all times."

Rory held in a smile, and Tristan shook his head. "Is there a second of all?" she asked.

"Why are you in such a good mood? Everyone is running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and you're practically skipping down the halls—what gives?"

She shrugged, and turned her attention to Tristan's book. It seemed to be going into great detail comparing the judicial systems of the United Kingdom and the United States. Tristan noted her shift in attention and closed his book.

"She likes school," he explained.

"Weirdo," Dan muttered, shaking his head.

"You know, you might study a little better without the ACDC blaring so loudly," she noted.

"You're making me sorry I called you in here," he warned.

She held up her hands, laughing. "I will stop being helpful, I promise. But I should get back to studying myself," she said, standing up to leave.

"Nope," Tristan said, grabbing her hips and pulling her back down to a seated position on the bed.

"GAH!" Dan yelled, pointing at their actions.

"Stay and study with us," Tristan encouraged.

"Can't. I have a lot of reading to do, and I can't do it with a rock concert distracting me."

"You're right. I need quiet. I'll join you," he attempted.

She listened to him, pretending to believe his good intentions. "No. But you should come by, in about an hour, for a study break," she hinted.

"Study break?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

"Mm-hmm. Bye boys," she said, jumping up and leaving the room quickly.

"You suck," Dan muttered, as Tristan flipped his book back open with a broad grin covering his face.

"Why do I suck? I have to go in there and attempt to restrain myself from tackling her."

Dan cocked his head, not quite understanding why he should be feeling so sorry for the other guy. "I'm sorry, but what?"

"I'm trying to take this slow."

"Why? Have you seen her?"

Tristan laughed. "Yeah, I have. Therein lies the problem."

"Why would you want to put anything concerning her off?"

"I have my reasons, okay?"

"Okay. . . so, if you don't want to touch her, why are you going to her room?"

"Because I want to see her."

"I was right before—you're pathetic."

"And you're jealous."

"Of you not having sex? Yeah, I'm real jealous."

Tristan threw a pillow from the bed at Dan's head, which he caught and dropped to the floor, going back to his book.

XXXX

Rory heard the knock at her door, and jumped up to answer it. She was rewarded by the sight of Tristan waiting on the other side. He looked into her room and then back at her.

"Looking for something?"

"Just noticing how serene it is in here. How do you study in dead quiet?"

"I relish peace and quiet. I grew up with very little of it."

"Interesting. So, I believe you promised me entrance for a well-deserved break."

"I did. And I have just the perfect thing," she said, standing back to let him into her room. She shut the door and moved over to her rack of DVDs. She picked one out and held it up for him to see.

"Casablanca?"

"Yep."

"You want to watch Casablanca?"

"Yep."

"Isn't that a movie that guys use to get into girls' pants?"

"I don't know, is it?" she smirked.

"You just have a sudden urge to see this film?"

"No, you have a need to see this film. It's a classic."

"How do you know I haven't seen this film?"

She looked at him in shock, shaking her head. "I can't believe you don't remember."

"Okay, you got me. I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about," he admitted, hoping his quick admission would lead to her quick explanation.

"At Chilton, you and I had the talk about you not dating after you had broken up with Summer at the party, and after we had our very first successful pleasant conversation, I quoted the last line of this movie—and you were completely confused. You asked me who Louie was."

"So, years ago I didn't understand a movie reference and you think that means now I haven't seen it?"

"Have you?"

"No. I've never needed the pretense of a movie to get into girls' pants," he smirked, causing her to swat at him.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, now isn't there?" she giggled and popped the movie into the player. She moved over to sit next to him, and pressed play with the remote control. She settled into her spot, her shoulder fitting against his perfectly.

"So, are there any movies you haven't seen?" he asked as the opening credits rolled.

"Shh, you're missing the movie."

"It's just the opening credits. Nothing important is happening."

"This whole movie is important."

"You could miss three minutes of any film and it would still make sense."

"So, you're saying the last three minutes of Citizen Kane are unnecessary? Or The Usual Suspects?"

"Okay, now you're just getting picky. Is this some sort of psychological twist movie?"

"No."

"And I know how it ends, you've already spoiled it for me. Someone ends up friends with a guy named Louie."

She laughed. "Yes, that is the importance of Casablanca."

"So, you won't mind if I do this," he moved a section of hair back off her neck with one hand and brushed his lips against her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact and the feel of his warm breath against her skin as he pulled away.

"It's your loss—I've seen the movie," she managed.

"I'm willing to suffer, if you are," he said, turning her face in towards his with his other hand.

"I'd just hate you to continue to walk through life ignorant of important cultural experiences," she tried to keep up the banter while he continued to move closer to her, his lips parting slightly in preparation to kiss her.

"I can think of worse things to miss out on," he said finally, nudging his nose against hers in his path to her lips. She fell farther into him, giving into the feelings he instantly evoked in her. She shifted so that she was facing him, matching his level of intensity as it began to climb. They were completely alone, and nothing was there to hinder this from growing out of control but their own good sense.

Unfortunately the only sense that she was aware of was the heat that was shooting up her spine and the overwhelming desire to climb on top of him. He'd been the one to express the desire to follow a certain proper procedure, anyhow. As sweet as it was, the practicality of actually stopping the momentum he was currently building as he began doing some unidentifiable motion with his tongue that made her physically dizzy was nonexistent. She couldn't stop him if she were rendered speechless, now could she? Besides, he had started this. She moved to straddle his hips, coming up over him. He pulled back just as she began to settle down on his lap.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if surprised.

"Are you kidding?" came her breathless response.

"I didn't mean for this to," he shook his head, running his hands down the sides of her body.

"Oh, uh, okay," her disappointment evident as she started to move away from him.

He held her hips in place, keeping her firmly on his lap. "I mean, we can, I just assumed that this would stay on the more. . . innocent side of things."

"You got innocent from our kisses?" she scrunched up her nose in confusion.

"No," he chuckled softly. "I wouldn't say that. But we're in real trouble if every kiss has to lead to something else. We'll never get out of your room."

"I never would have dreamed this would be a complaint of yours," she looked into his eyes, her amazement clear.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. Just tell me what you want. I am fully capable of taking you, right here, right now."

She bit her lip, looking into his very serious, very lust-filled eyes. His desire to 'do this right' had been touching, and a nice thought. They were going on their first official date this weekend—just a couple of days away. She could wait a couple of days if he could, surely.

"We should probably get back to the movie," she defeatedly decided.

"Right, the must-see classic," he nodded, placing one more soft kiss on her lips before resigning to let her move off of his lap. He held in a groan at the loss of heat against his lap. She resumed her position next to him, her shoulder burrowed into his as they turned their focus back to the screen. They watched in silence for a couple of minutes, and then he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Who are these people, and what is the big deal with him playing that song?"

She giggled. "I told you every part of this movie is important."

He shook his head, and grabbed the remote to rewind the movie. She protested, trying to grab it out of his hands. "You should have been paying attention the first time around," she laughed, reaching around him to pull it from his hands. He rolled over her, trying to take aim despite her pulling and tugging on his arm. He looked down at her lying underneath him, and the natural urge to dip down and press his body into hers became overpowering.

"But you keep distracting me," he informed her in a deep tone, the likes of which seemed to make some innermost part of her vibrate like a tuning fork.

"Precisely why I couldn't study with you," she nodded, wondering how good his resolve was.

"Rory," he groaned, looking her dead in the eyes as if warning her what was about to happen to her world. She wasn't going to stop him, he could see it plain as he could see the brilliant blue color of her eyes staring back up at him, just waiting for his next move.

He hovered just a breath away from her when her phone rang. They shared a smile, and he kissed her forehead.

"You should get that."

"Right," she nodded, reaching an arm over her head to grab it off her nightstand.

"Hello?"

"Hey, whatcha' doing?"

"Tristan."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm kidding. Well, sort of."

"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call you back on account that my ears are bleeding."

"We're watching Casablanca. He's never seen it."

"Wow. That's two."

"Two what?"

"Men who made it past the legal drinking age without having seen the best Bogey movie ever."

"Who's the other?"

"Luke."

"That doesn't count. He hadn't seen anything before he dated you."

"That's not true."

"I'm sorry. He'd not seen anything that didn't have to do with Star Trek."

"Man, I wish that weren't true."

"Yeah, well, you're the one living with him."

"Ask Shower Boy if he knows who John Hughes is."

"Trust me, I've seen his Breakfast Club audition. He's in the know."

"Well, you can never tell. Anyone who hasn't seen Casablanca is truly beyond the reach of ruling out any of the standards that we take for granted."

"Some Like it Hot."

"The Blues Brothers."

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High."

"Titanic."

"Is it possible we watch too many movies?"

"No. And anyone who tells you otherwise is probably hiding horns and a tail under their trench coat."

"Noted."

"I have to call you and give you such sage advice now and again, after all, it's in my contract."

"So, don't take candy from strangers and beware anyone that tries to burn my Blockbuster card?"

"And always wear cute underwear."

"Speaking of which, I really was in the middle of something," Rory looked at Tristan, who hadn't moved from his perch over her and was more than amused by her end of the conversation she was having. He raised an eyebrow at her last comment.

"You'd rather kiss a pretty boy than talk to your mother?"

"Um, yeah."

"I thought I raised you better than that. Just for that, I won't tell you why I called."

"Now, how is that nice?"

"You want to suck his face off, you don't care that I have news."

"It isn't something icky like you found Kirk naked again, is it?"

"That has happened more than it should, hasn't it?"

"Yes. No one should ever see Kirk naked. Ever."

"Well, it has nothing to do with Kirk's frightening physique."

"I'm waiting."

"Luke bought a second toothbrush. It's next to mine in the toothbrush holder that has always had the one empty slot. I always thought it was sad, how the second slot was empty. I meant to get a little flower and stick it in there, just to make it seem less pathetic, but now it's filled. Our toothbrushes aren't lonely anymore."

"You have strange thoughts."

"I can almost hear them talking. I don't think they like the soap dish. They're planning a coup."

"Just don't let the bathmat get into the skirmish. Now, I need to go study."

"Let me guess, anatomy?"

"Bye."

She heard her mother sigh as she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. She put her arms around his neck and looked at him intently.

"So, where were we?"

"I should go. Now. While I still can."

"Yeah. I have some more research to do."

"I have an early class."

She nodded, not breaking their gaze. "So, you were going?"

"Yeah, I was going," he agreed, not being able to help himself from a goodbye kiss. She shifted underneath him, and he brought her bottom lip into his mouth, tugging on it suggestively. She grabbed hold of his shirt, balling it up into her fists, and pulled him down closer to her. His weight rested on his elbows and he smiled into her.

"You're dangerous."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," she smiled back.

"All bets are off this weekend," he shot back.

"Can't wait."

She was going to be the end of him, he had always had the feeling that she had such powers, but now just having a taste of what it as like to be with her—he knew it to be true. He eased up off of her, and she leaned up on her elbows.

"I'm going back to my room. You're staying here."

"If you insist."

"I'm picking you up at six on Friday. Pack an overnight bag."

"And he's presumptuous."

"We'll be too far away to make it back Friday night," he clarified. "If I were presumptuous, I'd tell you not to bother with pajamas."

She smiled. "I'll leave it as a surprise, then."

"Goodnight," he leaned over and kissed her cheek before walking out of her room. She leaned back against her pillows and turned off the DVD player. She couldn't wait until Friday.