Disclaimer: Witty and Cupid's Bride don't own a thing except the plot twist, the new girls and the "song" Lana is working on. Really!
AN: Sorry for the wait. Thank you for those who read the last chapter, double thanks to those who reviewed, and much kudos to those who put us on alerts and favorites. THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Sorry for those who were also confused. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to e-mail us at or review.
The Break Down: This is an alternate universe fic set all the way back in season one. This is set before Dean could even make a decent appearance and claim Rory's heart. This is like, the second episode of Gilmore Girls. Ha ha.
Warning: Mild swears, some innuendoes and minimal to no Dean.
Couple (so far) – TRory
So without further ado, here's the next installment of Trouble Comes in Twos.
Chapter Two: Starting the Day
Lana Keane stared at a blank page of her notebook as her English teacher delayed her and Wendy's inevitable introduction to the class. She was sitting between Rory Gilmore and Wendy Locks in the first period class and was not amused. She thought, 'This school is really stuck up. They need some life besides talking about Paris Hilton and what to do down the shore over the weekend.' She decided to keep herself preoccupied by drumming her pen onto the clean sheet of paper. As she tapped her pen softly, she developed a rhythm to a new song. "Ta, ta, ta-ta-ra-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta," she lip synched softly. With the steady beat in her head, she started writing a couple of words that suit it.
When the wind blows you,
A mysterious man,
Would you ignore it,
Or go with the flow?
When the wind takes you,
To an unknown place,
How far will you go?
Would you feel safe?
If there's no tomorrow,
If there's nothing clear,
Will your heart break,
If you don't know what will be?
As Lana wrote the words, two pairs of blue eyes haunted her. There was just something about them. Looking over what she wrote, she gave herself a pat on the back and thought "Good start. I'm going to have to work on that."
She looked to her left as Mr. Remmy called on DuGrey, Tristan. She had to admit that the boy looked effing gorgeous. But to kiss him like that was a big mistake. She sighed as she guessed her hormones were just in overdrive. The guy wasn't even related to her, and she thought he was. But then, she thought about the other person with a pair of blue eyes. Rory Gilmore just as Mr. Remmy called her name.
Lana went to bible studies and knew how those guys in her age group bounced off nicknames off one another. It was just like Tristan to do the same to Rory. She snickered softly. Yes, Rory definitely looks like a Mary. Sheltered, and innocent. But does that make Tristan her Joseph?
The wheels in Lana's head started turning. Boy, were people so blind that they can't see the attraction those two seem to exude to one another? 'Looks like I have to play Cupid,' she thought. 'I could really see them happy together.'
Mr. Remmy then called the last person's name, Douglas Zemeckis. When he marked him present, he turned to the two cards in his hand as was custom with new students. "Keane, Lana? Locks, Wendy," he called out.
"Present," Wendy and Lana chorused.
"Report to me after class," he commanded as he marked them present and then turned to the whole room to teach. "Now, I expect that all of you have read pages 150 to 177 over the weekend. That said, can someone explain to me what sonnets are?"
Except for one enthusiastic hand, no one bothered to volunteer. Lana looked around and decided that the uppity Paris Gellar needed to get a reality check. Smirking slightly, she raised her hand at a more purposeful manner. This made the teacher look at her in surprise and point to her. "Sonnets are a form of lyrical poetry. They are made up of fourteen lines and can be classified in two different types. One type is the Italian or the Petrarchan Sonnet named after the father and origin of its kind of poetry. The other type is called the English, Elizabethan or Shakespearean Sonnet, named after the origin, the time period and the person most famous for writing its form. The two types vary in rhythm, rhyme schemes and their endings."
Although Paris took notes based upon Lana's description, she turned, glared at the other girl and gave her a look that promised hell but the other simply ignored it.
Meanwhile the teacher gave a nod, seeming unimpressed by Lana's answer. He wanted to know just how much this girl knew the subject matter and decided to test her knowledge. "Good, Miss Keane. Since we are focusing on Shakespeare, can you name a sonnet he wrote and describe it?"
Pausing for a moment, Lana thought hard. Thinking about her favorite, she replied, "Sonnet CXXX is a sonnet William Shakespeare wrote about loving a woman in spite of her faults. His usage of negative adjectives start right off the bat with the very first line: 'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun' and continues throughout the poem until the ending couplet in which he says 'And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare; As any she belied with false compare.,' and means, 'I love her even though she does not pretend to be any one but who and what she is.' This poem points out that a man can truly love a woman and vice versa beyond physical aspects and human understanding via unconditional love." With that said, Lana reclined in her seat as she turned to a new page in her notebook. She ignored the students who were whispering amongst themselves and readied herself to take notes.
Nodding again, Mr. Remmy moved on, "Well done, Miss Keane." He turned to the rest of the class and said, "Shakespeare's literary works do include many that describe love. Last year, I believe you have studied A Midsummer Night's Dream in depth. This year, we will focus more on his view about temptation, betrayal, and the quest for power. Please open Julius Caesar to page one. Act I, scene i. Mr. Zemeckis you shall be Flavius, Mr. Bayer you shall be the First Commoner, Mr. Soon you shall be Marullus and Mr. Van Sant you shall be the Second Commoner. Miss Gellar? Please be our narrator."
As Paris started off and Lana turned took class notes, she saw Tristan pull Rory's hair and ask for a pen. The girl flushed and nearly stabbed him when she threw it violently at him. A smile crept onto her face. She finished her thought about how commoners love Caesar and compared his rule to a combination of monarchy and democracy then turned to a brand new page in her notebook. She wrote some words in it, tore the sheet, folded it and surreptitiously threw it to Wendy who nearly jumped out of her seat. Not glancing at the girl who was probably glaring daggers at her, she continued to take notes.
Lana looked over at Wendy and worked her doe eyes on the girl as the girl returned her gaze. When Wendy turned back to her desk, curses streaming out of her mouth, Lana grinned knowing that pulling the Bambi trick was her specialty. Oh, Cupid would be very proud of her.
Wendy,
You have to help me get Tristan and his Mary together. Please? Pretty PLEEEEAAASE?
Lana
Wendy looked at the note that Lana sent her and rolled her eyes. Why was she so hell bent on this? Sighing, she took her pencil and scribbled her response, cursing her all the mean while.
Lana,
Fine. But if this doesn't work out, I'm going to say, 'I told you so'.
Wendy
She tossed the note back over to Lana and watched her open it. She saw a satisfied smirk appear on the girls face. Wendy rolled her eyes and went back to taking notes.
They have almost finished Act I, when the bell rang. Mr. Remmy's concluding words were to do questions for Act I and read Act II for discussion tomorrow.
Lana wrote down the assignment on the last page of her notes and turned to Wendy whose eyes were bulging out of their sockets as she jotted the assignment and put her stuff in her backpack. She suppressed the urge to laugh and packed up her belongings in her messenger bag. She tugged her friend over to the front of the class, where Mr. Remmy was patiently waiting for the two of them.
As they approached him, Lana noted the two packed and heavy 2½ inch binders that he retrieved from the top of his desk. "These are notes I have gathered for you, but I'm afraid they don't fully encompass the past lessons we have discussed in this course. It would be wise if you ask a fellow classmate ore two for theirs and photocopy them."
"Oh dear God," said Wendy, looking at the massive stack of work, "you're like Professor McGonagall in a man's suit. This sucks butt."
Lana burst out in laughter while the teacher looked aghast. "Miss Locks!" he exclaimed, glaring at her.
Wendy looked awkward and sheepishly asked, "Um, did I say that aloud?"
He just glared and nodded. On the other hand, Lana kept laughing on until the teacher turned his piercing gaze to her. "I'm sorry, Mr. Remmy." She offered uselessly, small bouts of laughter still escaping her lips. "Thank you for the notes, Mr. Remmy. We shall be going to our next class now!" She turned to go to the doorway, her thick binder clutched to her chest.
Wendy smartly kept her mouth shut, and followed her lead to the door when she caught the man's sigh and his held up hand. "Wait."
Both girls turned to see him writing on two separate pieces of paper. "Here are hall passes for each of you. I believe you'll find your next class on your schedule. Please, Miss Locks. Do watch your mouth. Now, off you go."
With that said, both girls took the proffered slips of paper and out the classroom.
Wendy glared at Lana who was still holding back laughter. "It wasn't that funny," she snapped.
"Well did you take a good look at his face," Lana retorted, but calmed down for her friend's sake.
At that, Wendy allowed a smile to cross her face. "Ok, that was funny."
"So what class do you have next?"
She glanced at her schedule and replied, "Gym. You?"
"U.S Government," the other answered and made a face. "I have a feeling I won't like this class. I mean, just listen to the teacher's name! 'Mrs. Menapolous.' What kind of name is that? It sounds a little bit like menopause!"
Wendy seriously responded, "It's Greek."
"I just hope she's not doing a debate. I hate debating." Lana whined as they came to a break in a hallway in which one way led to the girls' locker rooms and the other led to the social sciences wing. "I see the girls' changing rooms. See you later."
"Hey, if Tristan's in your next class don't do anything crazy, okay?" Wendy taunted her.
"Once is enough, thank you," Lana replied and blew raspberries at her then disappeared in the staircase. She made her way up two flights and exited the stairway. Looking at her schedule, Mrs. Menopause's class is in room 354. She made two wrong turns before coming to a hallway that led to the room. She knocked on the closed door and waited for the teacher to open it.
A young woman in her late twenties opened the door. "You must be Lana Keane. I got a notice this morning about your arrival. My name is Marie Menapolous, you may address me as Marie or Mrs. M. I am glad you took my class, Lana." She opened the door wider and accepted the pass Lana handed to her. Motioning to the room, "Pick any seat you want. I don't have a permanent seating chart." Then she proceeded to go to her desk and get worksheets as Lana surveyed the classroom.
Spotting Rory Gilmore with an empty seat beside her, Lana briskly made her way to it and sat down. "Hey Rory mind if I sit here?"
Rory looked up from her desk and smiled, "Hi, Lana. No I don't mind, go right ahead."
The other girl sat down, took out a brand new binder and a pen case from her bag. She looked up just in time as Mrs. M reached her desk and plop down a 1 inch binder on it.
"I gathered some worksheets we have worked over the past. The exercises on them are pretty self explanatory. I trust you won't find much difficulty in answering them. I will give you until Thursday of next week to complete and hand them in." The joyful teacher then handed her a blue index card. "Go to the library and ask the librarian to give you a copy of that book and say you are taking Mrs. Menapolous's 2nd period U.S. Government. As far as notes are concerned, I am sorry but I did not have the time to gather any for you. I suggest you borrow someone else's. Right now, we are discussing the function of checks and balances. I am currently dividing the class up into three groups. Which department would you like to be in, the Legislative Branch, the Executive Branch or the Judicial Branch?"
Lana thought for a moment. Seeing that annoying blonde overachiever out of the corner of her eye made her blood boil and feel like going head to head with her. However, slow and steady wins the race. She has to be careful and bide her time. Without further ado she replied, "The Judicial Branch."
"That's an excellent choice, Lana. Rory, will you brief her on today's assignment, please?" With the blue-eyed girl's responding nod, the bubbly teacher went back to her desk.
Lana dramatically sighed, "You know? I thought she was going to be a mean old hag."
Rory laughed, "No, not Mrs. M. Contrary to popular belief, Chilton doesn't always have grumpy teachers. But they will always give you a ton of workload."
She took that statement in stride and said, "Well I expect no less from a highly acclaimed learning institute such as Chilton. Anyway, what are we supposed to do around here in U.S. Gov?" She gave a cursory inspection of the newest binder she was given. 'This'll take nonstop ten hours to do.'
"We're doing checks and balances," Rory said as she moved her desk closer to Lana. She opened her own notes and began, "Right now, we're just taking notes from the book. From what I've been told, she does busy bookwork on Mondays, discussion on Tuesdays, group work on Wednesdays and Thursday and Friday a quiz or a test."
Lana shot her a confused look.
Rory explained, "See, I'm not completely caught up with my Chilton classes. I'm still new, started last Monday. However, from what I've gathered, we seem to be doing a project of sorts."
Wheels turning in her head, Lana inwardly grinned. She said in a business-like term, "Okay, I think you, me and Wendy could really benefit from a group study session for English. This project seems a bit big, and I would normally study by myself – but I really want to do well in my studies. What do you think? We can badger…" For this she looked around the room, looking for someone she deemed worthy then spotted a guy, "That Asian kid over there. We can ask him to help us, he seems like he can be useful."
Rory was about to decline, but for some reason Lana sensed it and continued with her sales pitch, "Or that blonde girl who keeps glaring at me because I stole her thunder last period. Or we could always ask some other person who knows what they're doing; like the top five in the class for tutoring. I don't know about you, but the faster we catch up, the faster we feel comfortable with the workload." She pointed to Mr. Remmy's binder that she placed on the floor. "If that's 1st period work and this," she gestured to Mrs. M's binder, "And multiply it by the number of academic periods I have to attend; then I believe I have just signed away at least a month of my life to catch up on the three weeks I've missed and more for the workload about to come in the upcoming weeks. I am not sure about you, but even if I want to get into an Ivy League school after grad I would rather prevent stress and struggles while I can." After her speech, she turned on her version of Bambi's eyes just a little bit.
Although she considered her newly acquired friend's words, Rory still had inhibitions. She said, "But I view studying as a solitary activity."
"Rory, Mary, Rory," Lana softly sing-songed. "Don't you want to wipe the floor with a certain Miss Paris Gellar?" She, conveniently, recalled seeing her portrait on a bulletin board in the English wing that mentioned she was the newest leading journalist in The Franklin, the school newspaper. "Think about it, she won't know what hit her. You strike me as the kind of girl who will be serious about studying to the point that won't let anything distract you. Some one who will not let any thing deter her from doing schoolwork and coming out on the top because she's that good. Now tell me, am I wrong?"
Humbly, Rory replied, "I just want to get into Harvard."
Eyes twinkling, Lana told her, "And you will if you take action. First thing? Get help. Study with others so you know what not to do. Secondly? There's this thing called networking – now… I don't mean you have to suck up to just anyone. You have to know the job to get into the job. You know Harvard? Well who do you know who is in Harvard?"
"No one," Rory answered, completely blown by this proposition. She didn't think about that kind of thing.
"If you follow my lead, you will soon have an edge. But first, are you in the study group?" Lana asked, almost giddy. 'Tristan better be in the Top Five,' she thought, completely forgetting that the blond might not even be one of the top students in the school. However, she recalled how he read Julius Caesar as Brutus. 'He sounded like he is a wide reader and that he knew what the text was saying as if he wrote the play himself. He put effort in the reading. He read offhis lines with much conviction and character that he sounded as if he were Brutus himself.' She thought as she considered the boy's professional behavior in class.
After giving Lana's proposal much consideration, Rory replied, "Count me in." She smiled at the girl and both agreed to discuss the details at lunch.
As Lana drew a chart for the government branch's checks and balances, she thought, "I wonder how Wendy's doing in gym class?"
"Oh Jesus Christ," Wendy muttered. Can someone go and shoot her now? She walked into Hell's gym in a God forsaken padded white suit that made her feel like she put on an air inflated vest plus spandex. Forget that, she felt as if she was like a human package dressed in this atrocious ensemble Chilton had to offer. Even the shoes feel like they were made of those cushioning bubbles that came with packages for her computer. She looked at the white cotton contraption in her hands. 'What the hell is this… a helmet? It looks like a really big speaker minus the interior.'
She sat on a bench as she watched her faceless classmates try to poke each other with really shiny, flexible sticks in pairs. Well, faceless mostly male classmates. Nearly all of the girls were clearly standing and chatting on the other side of the gym, keeping away from the mats. There were a few small, lithe forms that couldn't be mistaken for guys' sparring, but their movements were still hesitant, and less aggressive.
Wendy uncomfortably shifted in her outfit, inwardly cursing the atrocious uniforms that Chilton said they had to wear. Even in gym class, there was no stopping the insanity that was the Chilton dress code. Of course, they were currently in the fencing unit, so naturally the uniforms would be idiotic.
Wendy noted an extremely bubbly girl laughing like a hyena gesturing at her from across the room and nodding at her gym teacher and cringed. "Oh God," she said to herself, "Please don't let her be my partner, please don't let her be my partner." The thought of Miss I'm-still-on-the-Aftereffects-of-Laughing-Gas with a sword in her hands was not at all comforting.
"You know," she heard a cocky, male voice from behind her say, "they say that talking to yourself is one of the first signs of insanity."
She turned and saw Tristan standing behind her. Wendy rolled her eyes. "Funny," she said with sarcasm in her voice, and then, eyeing his sword, she said, "they let little boys like you use swords? I figured they'd be afraid that you'd hurt yourself."
Tristan laughed at her and said, "Well, we have to. Otherwise who would protect the little girls such as yourself?"
"Oh, how I pity Rory," Wendy muttered under her breath. Thankfully he didn't hear what she said.
"You're talking to yourself again," said Tristan, "Do I need to call Dorothea Dix?"
"I'm surprised you even know who she is," said Wendy. "Congratulations! You've got a brain," she deadpanned.
Tristan chuckled. "So," he said, "what's your name again? I know you said it earlier, but I don't remember it."
"Wendy," she replied, "Wendy Locks."
He snickered and she shot him a glare. "Sorry," he apologized, "it's just… Wendy Locks. Goldilocks, you know? The hair and -"
She looked irritably at him and cut him off, "Are you done?"
"Yes," he said, laughing, and then he gained control of himself, and clearing his throat, he said, "sorry about that. It's just---"
"Funny, I know," she said, "I get it all the time."
"So," said Tristan, "need a partner?"
"Yes," said Wendy, "anyone but that hyena." She indicated to the rapidly approaching gym teacher and the girl beside her.
Tristan smirked and said, "Well, nice meeting you, partner. Ever fenced before?" He asked the last bit as he picked up a fencing sword for her, checking its handle, blade and tip.
"The feeling's mutual," she said. Taking the proffered handle she answered sarcastically, "Yes! We also used bows and arrows, crossbows and guns."
"A simple no would have sufficed, Goldie. Chilton's not that archaic. We have an archery unit and a team here, though. You could always join the team." Before she could make another comment he continued, "Okay. First things first, check the weight of the sword. See if the handle does not put a strain on your arm or wrist when you flick it like this." He swiped at the air on his side by flipping his wrist sharply in a right half circle.
Wendy squinted at how he held his weapon and mimicked it. Walking over to her, Tristan set his rapier aside and then proceeded to place her hand in a basic grip on the handle. He barely got out of reach when she flicked her wrist just as he told her to and released the blade due to her surprise on how wiggly the metal portion was. "Sorry," she exclaimed when it flew straight at Tristan who promptly tripped backward due to his own sword. Wendy's fencing weapon landed on a neighboring mat and away from people who missed her fumble.
"Maybe we should spar with plastic ones," Tristan grumbled as he got up, pale and relieved that he wasn't injured any shape or form.
Minutes later, Tristan and Wendy were trading simple sword swipes. When he deemed that none of them pose as a threat, he struck up a conversation.
"So," said Tristan, "what were you and Lana passing notes about in class?"
Wendy missed his sword as if distracted then lied and replied, "Oh. We were just making fun of Mr. Remmy's haircut."
"Uh-huh," said Tristan in a disbelieving tone as he countered her foible, "sure you were. You know Goldie, you really need to work on your lying ability." He then executed a slightly more advanced swing which she easily defended.
"Well what do you want me to tell you?" She asked him as she attacked him with the move he carried out before.
"The truth," said Tristan. He struck at her head a might slower than a real fencer would while she shielded herself with her sword.
Smirking, she retaliated and said, "You want the truth, huh?"
"Uh-huh," Tristan replied as he protected his pretty head, even with the helmet on.
"If you must know, Lana was complaining about how bad of a kisser you are and how she's going to have nightmares for weeks about it," said Wendy as she assaulted him with a much more confident offense with her plastic rapier.
"I resent that," said Tristan as he defended with graceful ease, "I am not a bad kisser."
"Her words, not mine," said Wendy and didn't let up her series of attacks. She used this opportunity to ask him a question, "So what's the deal with you and Rory? You break up once or something?"
Tristan looked surprised at her question and then said, "I wish. We haven't even been in the position to have a break up. But she's completely oblivious to the fact that I like her. So oblivious that if I jumped off the Empire State Building in New York City naked with a neon sign that says 'I like you, Rory, go out with me,' she still wouldn't notice."
"Huh, well the way you act, I'd be, too, if I were in her position," said Wendy as she barely parried his frustrated swings.
Tristan quirked a brow and said, "What's that supposed to mean?" He realized that he launched a more advance offense than she could probably defend and eased up.
"The kindergarten act," said Wendy as she momentarily stopped and continued her speech, "I mean, she's unaware that you like her because of the way you act like a dick to her. Now if you weren't such a jackass, then maybe you could at least be friends."
"Oh, yeah, because that's what I want to be," he sarcastically said, "her friend."
"Well," she began, "that's better than nothing, don't you think?"
He nodded and sighed, "Maybe you're right."
"Of course I'm right," said Wendy as she suddenly swiped at him, "I always am."
Tristan shook his head at her as he dodged her blow. "You know," he said, "I think you're the female version of me."
"No, I'm not," said Wendy as she evaded an expert maneuver, "because I don't make out with everyone around."
"Oh, I'm certain we could change that if we tried," Tristan joked as she struck at his below the belt area. "Whoa!"
"So sorry," she said with her voice dripping with sarcasm. She upped their sparring by cutting. She brought the plastic sword right at his head with the blade portion facing him.
"So," he said as he blocked her attack easily, "I think we have a new friendship here. What do you say?"
"I agree with reluctance," she deadpanned although she was clear that she was joking. She attempted a passe avant, in which she advanced by crossing her right leg forward over her left as she swung at Tristan who expertly thwarted her assault with a passe arrière, in which he retreated by crossing his left leg back under his right.
"Pessimist," Tristan lightly gibed at her. He made a mistake of trying to disarm her.
"Playboy," she shot back at him, grinning evilly as if she dodged out of his reach and used two hands to remove the plastic rapier from his grip and pressed the tip of her own at his chest.
"Touché," he said, smirking. He retrieved the sword from where it laid and they continued fencing with each other, talking all the meanwhile. He informed her that he was on the football, basketball, and tennis teams while she told him that she was on the girls' soccer, basketball and softball teams at her former high school. However her records recognized her basketball membership more than the other sports because she was a really good ballplayer who was selected as varsity.
'Okay,' Wendy thought, 'he's not that bad. And Lana is right. Tristan and Rory would make a cute couple.'
The bell rang and signaled the end of second period. Lana and Rory quickly packed up their bags and exited U.S. Government at a run to catch up with the Asian kid the former pointed at earlier.
"Hey," Lana tapped the boy as she drew up to his side and stopped moving to chat. "I'm Lana Keane, this is Rory Gilmore."
The tall Asian kid smiled and held out a free hand as he stopped walking himself to face her. "Hi, I'm Henry Cho. What's up?"
Before Lana took his hand, someone else took it, "I'm Paris Gellar, and just so you know? You're going down."