Author Note: And here is the next installment of this lovely fanfiction. If you hadn't noticed, I really only update on weekends, because that is the only time I can find to work on the stories – and I barely have enough time to make chapters very long – so I'm sorry.

But, here is the next chapter – perhaps I'll update again sometime this weekend – but for now this will have to do!

Chapter Five: Three Types of Asparagus

"Asparagus, asparagus…" Rory mumbled to herself, walking down the vegetable isle in the market twenty minutes away from Yale. "Lord, where is the asparagus?"

"Uh, love," someone tapped Rory on the shoulder, so she turned quickly, staring up at the intruder of her search.

"Hmn?"

"I think the asparagus is thatta way." He said, pointing towards the opposite end of the vegetable isle.

"Thanks," Rory replied setting off on her quest to get Doyle's asparagus.

"Doll," the man said after her, falling into stride next to her, "if this is being completely rude, I'm sorry—but do you even know what asparagus looks like?"

Rory rose an eyebrow, and looked up at him, biting her lip, and taking in his appearance. She felt even more miniscule next to him then when she was standing next to Tristan. At least with Tristan the top of her head at least reached the apples of his cheeks – but with this man, the top of her head barely rose over his shoulders. She sighed slightly, blinking and trying to remember back to when she was in fourth grade when her teacher had tried to feed her it.

"No…" she answered finally.

"Do you want some help, then, love?"

"Uh…" Rory bit her lip, and patted her cell phone through her jeans pocket, "I don---"

"If I'm coming off a bit forward, I'm sorry, doll."

"Oh, no. Not at all. You aren't coming off as forward.." She smiled slightly, and turned to look at the vegetables, before looking up to meet his gaze, "Oh! I'm Rory, Rory Gilmore."

He smirked, and took her hand into his, barely grazing his lower lip across the back of her hand, "And I, dove, am Phineas Lifvergren, but my mates call me Finn."

"Well it's nice to meet you… Finn."

"And I you, Ms. Rory, Rory Gilmore, and I you."

Rory smiled warmly, and grabbed one of the plastic bags that came off in sheets, and opened it, placing asparagus in it. "I don't know which kind Doyle likes."

Finn rose an eyebrow, and tilted his head, "Boyfriend, love?"

Rory shook her head, and laughed sadly, "My roommates boyfriend."

"Roommate? Where do you attend school?"

"I'm a sophomore at Yale." She answered him, placing a different type of asparagus in the bag. Finn grinned, and placed his hand at the small of her back, leaning over the vegetables, and grabbing a kind of asparagus from the back.

"He might like this, doll."

"Thanks."

He grinned, and shrugged, "No problem."

Rory twisted the bag closed, and looked at the grocery store floor of the vegetable isle, before looking up and meeting his gaze, "Well, Finn—I should probably get going…"

"Right…" he said, nodding, and pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, "Perhaps I could catch your number, kitten? Take you out for a drink."

"Oh… I don't know."

"Just one drink – sometime? Here, I'll give you my number – and you can decide if, and when we get a drink."

"Alright, deal." She said, watching him put his phone away while she got out her own, and handed it to him. She watched him punch the slew of numbers in his phone number into her phone, and then proceed to type his name. "Thanks," she said, taking her phone back from him, and placing it in her jeans pocket. "I'll talk to you sometime soon."

He nodded, "Bye, love."

"Bye, Finn."

---&---

"Paris!" Rory called, walking into her dorm suite with a plastic bag filled with three different kinds of asparagus in her hand. "Paris!" she called again, placing her keys over the hook by the door.

"What?" came Paris' distressed voice from behind her bedroom door.

"Uh, I have the asparagus?"

"Leave it on the counter! Wait --," Rory heard the mumbling from the other side of the door, and shuddered slightly, "No! Doyle said asparagus needs to be refrigerated! So put it in the fridge!"

Rory sighed, throwing a glare towards Paris' bedroom, before tossing the green vegetables onto the kitchen, if you could call it one, counter. Kicking her shoes off, she walked towards the telephone and answering machine, expecting to see no new calls on her answering box.

Watching the red light flash back at her, she narrowed her eyes, picking up the dorm phone, and flipping through the caller I.D. to see that Tristan had called her three times. Groaning, she pressed the on button, and let her phone dial his number.

Ring. Pick up, Tristan. Ring. I swear to frickin god—Ring. Ten bucks says he's with a gir—"Hello?"

"Why'd you call me, Tristan?"

"Rory?"

"Why did you call me?"

"Because we need to talk about this!"

"What is there possibly to talk about? It's over! Go screw your favorite bed buddy! You're free!"

"Why are you so pissed off, Rory? This is nothing! You live hours away! I only see you on weekends! I get lonely!"

"Then use your right hand!"

"C'mon, Ror… can we try and make this work?"

Rory sighed, biting her lip, and focusing her eyes on the dorm door. Rubbing her temples, she sniffed slightly, "I can't… I can't trust you. It won't work."

"Rory--"

"No – Tristan… it hurts even more because you were there with me when my parents went through their divorce because my dad cheated… you… you know how much it hurt me… and you still went and did it."

"Rory… please."

"Tristan… No. I can't – no, I won't do it. I don't want to be with you."

Tristan sighed on the other end of the phone, and Rory could see him run a hand through his blonde hair, blink his cool blue eyes, and scratch his chin – all from her memory of him in a distressing situation. "I'm sorry," he said ruefully, "I don't think its okay… you know.. What I did.. but I still want to be with you."

"Tristan…"

"No, Rory… we worked good together. We fit, and I was an inconsiderate jackass. I was horrible, and I'm sorry…"

"Please, Tris… stop."

"No – I was a jerk, and… Rory, I can't take back time… but I… I love you." He mumbled into the mouthpiece of his phone, "Please… one more chance?"

"I have to go… I'm sorry," she said quickly, clicking her phone off, and dropping it back into its cradle that sat on the lovely, mahogany end table by the couch.

Taking in a lung crushing breath, she rubbed her temples before walking back towards the kitchen, picking up the bag of asparagus and placing it in it's rightful place in their refrigerator. Letting some of the cool air brush over her neck and face, she kicked the door closed, and looked around her dorm.

Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she flipped through her numbers list, and found the one she was looking for. She definitely needed that drink.