Alright people, here we go:

I don't own Gilmore girls or anything like it, and I think I forgot to write that last time. I didn't own it then either.

BTW I have enables anynonymous comments now, so there is nolonger an excuse!


"Happy anniversary, Mary" He held out a small box. Rory's eyes widened in glee.
"No kidding?" she laughed. "How long would that be?"
"Four months, and don't act like you didn't know." she snapped her fingers.
"Curses, foiled again." she reached into her yellow bag and pulled out a wrapped book. It wasn't wrapped very well; the paper bunched in some places and didn't cover all of the book. The page edges could be seen from one corner, and the amount of tape she had used could hold a man captive for days. Alright, 'very well' might not be the best word. Mabe 'atrocity.'
"Aww, thanks Mare, you got me a gift wrapper's suicide."
"Hey! At least it's a better job than my mom did, that might have sent you into medical shock." He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Open it!" she said, excitedly, and he carefully tore through the easier parts of the wrapping.
"The Canterbury Tales?" he inquired.
"Trust me, you'll love it. My turn!" She made a show of opening the box carefully. Lifting the lid carefully, she made a ta da! movement with her arms. "Boat tickets?"
"How would you feel about spending Spring break on Martha's Vineyard with me?"
"I don't know, you'd have to ask me to, and find out." She kissed him and he smiled.
"I'll take that as a yes."

--

Two days later and they were on the yacht, with their bags packed and nothing to do for a week. Tristan's grandfather was letting them use his summer house, so they had everything they needed for the next seven days.
They arrived at the house engaged in blissful meaningless chatter. The past few month's had been almost unrealistically happy, and Rory was falling harder and harder for the guy she once dreaded seeing.

House? Rory asked herself sarcastically. More like mansion. Not only did it have a spacious yet cozy wooden interior, but a pool in the back. Anyone would have killed to live here, and the knowledge of how little the summer house was used both amused her and filled her with mild indignance.

"You know, there are starving children in the world, who would sell their sould for a pair of shoes."

"What?" Tristan asked, not catcihng the connection.

"Nevermind," she said happily, and flitted through the house. She arrived back at the pool to a smiling Tristan. He almost never smirked now. His smiles were all genuine, a fact betrayed by his dimples, and the way his eyes lit up.

"You know? We should go swimming." he suggested.

If she wasn't already grinning from ear to ear, she would have."Why Tristan DuGrey, I think you're just trying to get me into a bathing suit."

"Ouch, Mary, you see right through me."And then the phone rang.

--

"I can't believe this." she said. Tristan wiped a tear from her face and kissed her again.
"Military school! What were they thinking?" Tristan remained silent; he was still procesing the information.
"My father is going to Europe." he said after a long pause, trying to decipher the reasoning behind the situation. "There was no where else to send me." At this Rory snorted.
"There is always somewhere. For all I care you could stay with Paris. Just don't leave." a fresh wave of tears came on, and he just sat there with her on the bed. There was really nothing else to do, once his father had spoken, his word was law. He held her helplessly, his mind filled with dark thoughts.

Oh, silly readers, did you think Tristan would actually escape the harsh reality that is the military system? Never. Rest assured it will all end well, as I have a plan. And a character.

Alas, you won't meet him until chapter 3.

Please respond; your words are a sweet elixer to my thoughts.