Pairing: R/T, of course, and L/L

Rating: PG-13 at the most

Spoilers: May reference anything and everything from Season 1

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

by Grace

Part 1: Thank Goodness for Blondes and Junior Mints

This is so boring, thought Rory. Dean knows that I hate this kind of movie. Why did he insist on seeing this with me?

Shifting in her seat for the fifty-eighth time, Rory repressed a sigh. Leaning over, she whispered, "I'll be right back."

His attention momentarily torn from the screen, Dean looked at her in concern. "Everything okay?"

She nodded. "Bathroom break."

Wordlessly, he turned back to the movie, riveted by yet another mindless action sequence.

Thankful that she was sitting on the aisle, Rory slipped from the theater without disturbing her fellow patrons. Squinting at the sudden brightness of the lobby, she wondered if there was any way she could avoid going back in there. Groaning softly, she realized that if she was gone too long, Dean was liable to send out a search party. To say that he'd been somewhat possessive since their reconciliation two months earlier would be an understatement. Since school let out, they'd been together practically every waking moment.

If she was honest with herself, Rory knew that she didn't like the current state of their relationship. At the same time, though, she didn't want to lose him again. Their first break-up had been devastating, and Rory didn't relish a repeat performance.

Slowly, she meandered her way over to the concessions counter, idly wondering if they served coffee. As she placed herself at the end of the mercifully short line, a shrill giggle pierced the air.

Smiling wryly, Rory thought, Five bucks says she's a blonde. Feeling that a box of Junior Mints would be an adequate reward if she were right, she casually turned around…and proceeded to become rooted to her spot.

The giggler was, indeed, blonde. Blonde, leggy, slender, curvaceous…supermodel gorgeous. More important, though, was that she was hanging onto the arm of none other than Tristan DuGrey.

Rory felt a lump form in her throat, a pang of guilt shoot through her heart. She hadn't seen Tristan since the last day of school, and they hadn't spoken since that fateful day when Dean came to Chilton. With a twinge of regret, she could hear herself telling him that she hated him. She couldn't remember ever saying those words to anyone before, yet they had slipped past her lips with such ease. Then Dean was there, and Tristan was forgotten. She hadn't even given him a second thought until she saw him again at school, when it all came rushing back. Seeing the way he studiously avoided her, the flashes of pain that she would glimpse oh-so-fleetingly across his face, made her realize that perhaps Tristan DuGrey was human after all. And she, Lorelei Leigh Gilmore, had hurt him.

The truth was, of course, that she didn't hate him. He frustrated her, infuriated her, challenged her…but on some level, he entertained her. The tentative peace that had been broken by the P.J. Harvey fiasco appealed to her. Deep down, she believed that there was more to Tristan than the flirt and player he presented himself as, something that he had afforded Rory a look at the night of Madeline's party. Although she hardly dared admit it, even to herself, she would have liked to find out what kind of a person he truly was.

All these thoughts raced through her head in a matter of seconds, and then Tristan looked up from his companion and met her gaze. His astonishment at seeing her there made him incapable of masking his emotions right away. The hurt, anger, and longing that warred within him flashed across his features, and Rory felt her breath catch. She had forgotten the almost palpable electricity that existed between them.

All too soon, his lips curved into that trademark smirk, and Rory began to feel the blood returning to her brain. This was Tristan--cocky, arrogant, infuriating Tristan. She could handle this. She could handle him.

As she opened her mouth to speak, he beat her to it. "Well, hello, Mary. I certainly didn't expect to see you here."

Gritting her teeth at the hated nickname, she replied, "I'm just as surprised as you are, Tristan. Are you…are you having a good summer?"

His smirk widened. "Well, DeeDee here is certainly doing her best to see that I do. DeeDee Phelps, this is Rory Gilmore."

A puzzled pout came onto DeeDee's face. "I thought her name was Mary?"

"It's a nickname, sweetheart. Just a little inside joke between me and Mary."

The pout deepened. "Why don't I have a nickname?"

Exasperation creeping into his voice, Tristan replied, "DeeDee is a nickname, darling."

Instantly, she brightened. "Oh, right! I forgot! Well, it was really nice meeting you, Rachel. I'm going to go powder my nose." She gave Tristan a peck on the cheek, and then she was gone.

An awkward silence descended upon Rory and Tristan. At long last, Rory cleared her throat.  "So, um, she seems…" At that point, words failed her.

Sighing, Tristan ran a hand through his perpetually tousled hair. "I think the word you're looking for is brain-dead."

Shocked, Rory's eyes widened. "If that's true, why are you here with her?"

Tristan paused before answering. "Probably because it was finally made clear to me that the person I would like to be here with wants absolutely nothing to do with me. In fact, the last time we spoke, she told me that she hated me."

A faint blush crept across Rory's cheeks as she realized the implication of Tristan's words. "Um, I meant to talk to you about that…"

"About what? The fact that you despise me?"

"No! I mean…I don't. Despise you. Hate you. You made me mad, and I…I shouldn't have said what I said. I didn't mean it. So I'm sorry."

Tristan's expression softened. "Oh. Well, thank you. For telling me, I mean. For what it's worth, I'm….sorry that I pushed you so hard to go to the concert with me. And I'm sorry that I made Paris mad at you. I just wanted…"

Rory took a step closer to him. "Wanted what?"

"I just wanted to do something that I thought you would like. I thought if I got you P.J. Harvey tickets, you'd finally go out with me. Nothing else that I tried worked."

She could feel the first seeds of frustration building in her, and she forced herself to rise above them.  "Look, Tristan, maybe if you had asked me to go with you, instead of telling me that I was going, things could have been different. For a little while there, I thought we could maybe be friends. Next time you should just try to be nice, instead of attempting to buy affection."

A look of hurt crossed his face once more. "I really am sorry, Rory. Do you think maybe we could try that friends thing again? Since you obviously don't want anything more…" He let the sentence hang there for a moment, hoping that she would contradict him.

"I think I'd be willing to give it a try. There will be conditions to this friendship, though."

"Anything. Your wish is my command."

She grinned. "Okay, genie-boy, listen up. First of all, learn to use a certain four-letter word. Starts with 'r,' ends with 'y,' has an 'or' in the middle. Sound familiar?"

"Sure…Rory."

"Very good. Next, once school starts, you need to explain to Paris exactly what happened with those concert tickets. If I'm going to have any chance of surviving the school paper, I need her to not hate me quite as much as she currently does."

"I can't make any promises as to how she'll react, but I'll do my best. Anything else?"

She thought for a moment. "Well, how about if you ever encounter me with Dean, you promise not to assault him?"

His face fell for a moment, and then he forced it back into a countenance of nonchalance. "Oh, are you two still together?"

"Yes, we are. Chances are, we will be for a long time. In fact, I should get back inside the theater. I'm sure he's wondering where I am."

As she turned to go, he caught her by the wrist, almost gasping from the spark that ran up his arm and down his spine. "Just one question before you go…"

She turned back to him, blue eyes locked on blue, an unexpected shiver racing through her. "What?" she asked, her voice coming out almost in a gasp.

His voice lowered and deepened, sending another tingle through her. "Do you ever think about the night we kissed?"

Of their own accord, her eyes slid down his face to his lips, the sensations of that night, that moment, rushing back to her. "I…I can't." Wrenching herself from his gentle grasp, she raced back into the theater.

* * *

Her breath was still coming in gasps when she slid back into her seat beside Dean. Still engrossed in the movie, he absently placed his hand over hers on the armrest. With a twinge of anger, she thought, He probably didn't even notice how long I was gone.

Resisting the urge to pull her hand away from him, Rory found herself unable to follow the rest of the movie, despite the lack of plot. All she could hear were Tristan's words echoing through her mind, over and over. Do you ever think about the night we kissed?

She didn't. Not really. Or at least not very much. Okay, so maybe she thought about it a little, say, every time she saw a piano. But that was it. End of story. Well, there was that one dream… She refused to think about that, though. She was with Dean. She loved Dean. Really. She did.

So why could Tristan send shivers down her spine just by touching her wrist? It's not like it's an erogenous zone. And why could she still feel the light pressure of his fingers on her skin? Why did it bother her so much to see him with DeeDee tonight? It's not like she hadn't seen him with a million girls. Although, now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall him dating much after the break-up with Summer. Not since…

Rory slumped down in her seat when she realized that her train of thought had led her right back to where she had started, to the kiss she had shared with Tristan.

She couldn't deny the fact that he was a good kisser. An excellent kisser, actually. Not that she had a lot to compare him to, of course. Dean was the only other boy she'd ever kissed. Guiltily, she sneaked a look at her boyfriend, suddenly afraid that he could read her thoughts. Watching him stare raptly at the screen, Rory returned to her musings.

The kiss with Tristan had been good. Still, it hadn't meant anything. So what if his lips had been firm but gentle? So what if his cologne had intoxicated her, mingled with a sent that was uniquely his? So what if she sometimes wondered what it would be like to kiss him again; to taste his tongue probing gently along the seam of her lips, begging invitation; to feel his long, gentle fingers graze softly along her cheek; to…

"Rory? Rory!"

Dean's insistent, worried voice finally broke through her reverie, and she blushed when she realized where her thoughts had been heading.

"Sorry. I guess I kind of zoned out there for a while."

"That's okay. Come on, how about we head back to Stars Hollow and get pie and coffee at Luke's?"

She smiled. "I'd like that." The more miles between Tristan and me, the more safe I'll be.

* * *

When Rory and Dean arrived at Luke's, they found Lorelei at the counter, nursing a very large cup of coffee.

"Hi, mom."

Lorelei swiveled on her stool, and threw out her arms toward her daughter. "'Tis the blessed fruit of my loins! Top o' the evenin' to ya!"

Puzzled, Rory returned her mother's hug. "What's with the Irish brogue?"

"Oh, Luke and I were discussing scary movies. Whereas I, in my vast wisdom, went with classics such as The Silence of the Lambs and Psycho, our favorite coffee purveyor insists that the most frightening thing he's ever seen is Darby O'Gill and the Little People."

Rory and Dean started to laugh. "You're kidding me!" exclaimed Rory. "Where is he? I have to hear the logic behind this."

"Luke!" hollered Lorelei.

Almost instantly, Luke appeared from the kitchen. "You bellowed?" Noticing new people, he added, "Hello, Rory." Dean, not warranting actual words, received a nod.

"Hi, Luke. Mom was just telling us about your leprechaun phobia. Care to elaborate?"

Glaring at Lorelei, Luke replied, "Look, I just didn't like the movie, okay? Especially the part with the banshee."

Rory giggled. "Let me guess—you think the Oompa Loompas in Willy Wonka are scary, too."

Seeing him squirm, Lorelei pounced. "You do! We're going to tie you up and force you to watch every movie that features little people until you agree never to argue about coffee!"

"It's not the Oompa Loompas so much as that stupid tunnel. Happy now?"

"Hmph," grunted Lorelei. "Fine. That boat ride was way too scary for a kid's movie, so you're off the hook—this time. But I think you should close the diner early tomorrow to watch The Wizard of Oz with me."

"Lorelei, I'm not closing…"

"Please, Lukey?" she wheedled. "I promise that next Wednesday I won't come in here for coffee at all."

His eyebrows shot up. "Promise?"

She held up three fingers. "Scout's honor. For now, though, I need a refill."

"What a surprise." Turning to Rory and Dean, he asked, "What can I get you kids?"

"Two coffees and two slices of blueberry pie," replied Rory.

Sighing, he said, "Coming right up."

Once he had retreated to the kitchen, Rory asked her mother, "Don't you have a conference in Boston next Wednesday?"

"Shh! Yes, I do, but Luke doesn't need to know that yet. It's not like I could stay away from his coffee otherwise."

"Very true. So what are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had a date with Mr. Medina tonight."

Lorelei averted her eyes. "I did. It didn't last very long."

Rory cautiously took a seat on the stool next to Lorelei. "Mom, what happened?"

"Max asked for an answer to his proposal tonight. I suppose it makes sense—it has been two months. I was all ready to say 'yes,' but as I sat there, staring into his eyes, all I could think was that I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with this man."

In sympathy, Rory laid her head on Lorelei's shoulder. "So what did you say?"

Lorelei swallowed the tears that were threatening. "I told him that even though I cared about him very much, I couldn't marry him. And he said that if I wasn't willing to make that kind of a commitment, then maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore."

"Oh, mom, I'm sorry." She paused. "Have you told Luke yet?"

"No, I just said the date didn't go well. I think that's why he's not arguing about the coffee. Why?"

"I guess I just think you should tell him before he hears it somewhere else." Rory, like the rest of the town, had seen how Luke looked at Lorelei. Things now had the potential to get very interesting.

"You're probably right. I'll tell him tomorrow during The Wizard of Oz, when he's distracted by the flying monkeys."

"Whatever works for you."

Lorelei turned to Dean, who had essentially been ignored since arriving at the diner. "Sorry to monopolize my daughter during your date. You can have her back now."

Dean smiled. "Thanks. I'm sorry you had a bad night."

"Yeah, me too. So how was the movie?"

"Oh, it was great. The special effects were amazing!"

Looking at her daughter for confirmation of this assessment, it was all Lorelei could do not to laugh when Rory squinched up her face and stuck out her tongue. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Oh look, here's your coffee. And pie."

Taking their food, Rory and Dean headed for their favorite table by the window.

"So you never told me what had you so distracted at the movie," said Dean.

Knowing that any mention of her encounter with Tristan would only infuriate Dean, Rory heard a lie come out of her mouth. "Oh, nothing really. Just thinking how quickly the summer has gone, and that I go back to Chilton in less than a month."

Dean's expression darkened. "I wish you didn't have to go back to that place. I still don't trust that jerk Tristan around you."

At the mention of his name, Rory's head snapped up. "Oh, um, well, I don't think you'll need to worry about Tristan this year."

"Why not?"

"Well, uh, he knows we're together and that I…that I love you. I think I finally made him understand that we'll never be anything more than friends."

As it always did when Rory used the "l" word, Dean's face softened. Even so, he said, "After everything he did, I don't know why you'd even want to be friends."

"I guess it would just be nice to have at least one friend at Chilton…even if it's Tristan." Especially if it's Tristan. "Besides, for a little while at least, he seemed sort of okay." And when he kissed me, he seemed more than okay.

"Look, Rory, I know you always want to see the best in people, but you're wasting your time with this guy. He's only after one thing, and he'll do anything to get it, including act like you're just friends."

Rory picked slowly at her slice of pie. "I'd like to think I'm a better judge of character than that."

"You are, Rory. But this guy isn't worth it. I don't think you should be friends with him."

Rory set her fork down. "Excuse me?" Her voice was low, and dangerous. "Are you telling me who I should and shouldn't be friends with?"

"No, Rory, I…"

"Maybe you should take me home now."

"Rory, please, let's not fight about this. I was just expressing an opinion."

"Fine. So noted. Now I'd like to go home."

In silence, Rory and Dean paid their bill, exited the diner, and drove to the Gilmore house. Watching them from her diner stool, Lorelei, for once, held her tongue.

* * *

After dropping DeeDee off, Tristan headed home to his big, empty house. Knowing that his parents were away in Europe, DeeDee had offered to "keep him company," as she delicately phrased it, but Tristan declined. Seeing Rory again had reminded him of all the possibility in the world, of all the amazing things that existed beyond his lonely, cold existence. As Jack-Nicholson-in-As-Good-As-It-Gets as it sounded, she made him want to be a better person. She inspired him.

He groaned as he twisted the key in the front door.  She not only inspired him, she turned him into a Hallmark-spewing sap.  How could she not see that he was crazy about her?  For a moment tonight, he thought he had made her realize the truth.  In the end, though, she ran away from him—again.  And in running from him, she ran to Dean.

The clink of his keys on the entry hall table echoed through the cavernous rooms, reminding him once again how isolated his existence was.  He had spent a whopping five days with his parents so far this summer.  He had visited cousins in Colorado and California, and his parents had taken trips to Australia, Russia, and now Europe.  He almost couldn't remember what they looked like.

Flopping gracelessly onto the immense leather couch in the living room, Tristan idly began thumbing through the entertainment section of the Hartford Courant.  His mind still on Rory, a large ad caught his eye.  "Hartford Park District presents Poetry in the Park, featuring the work of Dorothy Parker."  Dorothy Parker…why was that name so familiar?  Rory…he had seen her with a book by this woman.  Tristan knew this was something she would enjoy.  But did he dare take the steps required to tell her about it?

Reminding himself that Tristan DuGrey had never been tongue-tied around women, he began looking for his Chilton student directory.  The search led him throughout the house, finally ending in the suite of rooms he occupied upstairs.  Elsa, the maid, had apparently decided that a directory belonged next to the phone, which is where he found it.  Thumbing quickly to the "G" section, he located Rory's number.  Tentatively, he picked up the handset of his cordless phone, and pressed the "talk" button.  Hesitating, he wondered if she was even back from her date with Dean yet.  What if Dean was there?  What if Dean answered the phone?  What if Rory answered the phone?  Ugh!  This had never seemed so difficult before!

Resolutely, he began dialing.  He flinched when he heard the phone begin to ring.  What if she hung up on him?  What if he made a fool of himself?  What if…

"Hello?"

"Yes, um, hi, could I please speak with Rory Gilmore?"

"This is she."

"Oh, Rory, hi, um, this is Tristan.  Tristan DuGrey."

"Believe it or not, you're the only Tristan I know," she commented dryly.

Stop acting like such a love-sick fool, he berated himself.  You're stammering, for God's sake.  Pull it together!  "Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren't confusing me with some guy named Tristan that you hate," he said lightly.

"Very funny, Tristan.  Now what can I do for you?"

"Oh.  Um, actually, I was calling because I didn't know if you got the Hartford newspaper, and I saw this ad for Poetry in the Park featuring Dorothy Parker, and I remembered seeing you with one of her books, and I thought maybe you'd want to know about it so that you could go.  With Dean.  Or someone."

"Ramble much, Tristan?"

He held back a sigh of delight at the way she said his name.  "Sorry.  I guess I'm just not used to the whole concept of friendship with you, and I keep expecting you to hang up on me."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line.  "How refreshingly honest of you."

"Gee, I think I'll take that as a backhanded compliment."

He could almost see her smiling through the phone.  "Good, because that's pretty much what it was.  So tell me more about this poetry reading."

"Well, it's tomorrow night at some park in downtown Hartford.  I guess it starts around seven, and goes for a couple hours."

"Wow, that sounds really interesting.  Thanks for thinking of me."

"So…do you think you're going to go?"

"I'm not sure.  Dean and I…well, I don't know that he'd want to come with me, and I doubt Lane's mom would let her go all the way to Hartford without a chaperone or something."

"Maybe you could take your mom."

"My mom isn't real big into poetry.  Besides, she has an appointment with The Wizard of Oz tomorrow night."

"Sounds exciting."

"Oh, it will be, I'm sure.  My mom makes everything exciting."

"She sounds great.  I can't imagine being close with my parents."

"Yeah, she's pretty amazing."

"So are you going to go or not?"

"I think so, although I'd rather not go alone.  I'm not all that comfortable driving in Hartford yet.  Tristan…"

"Yes?"

"Would you…um, would you maybe want to come with me?  I mean, I'm sure you'll think it's totally boring, but I would feel a lot better having someone with me, and you probably know your way around the city a lot better than I do, and…"

"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"Ramble much?"

"Sorry."

"That's okay.  Now we're even.  I guess we both babble when we're nervous.  Although, I can't honestly remember ever being nervous before."  He let that comment sink in before continuing, "Anyway, I'd love to go with you."

"Really?"

"Really.  Do you want to drive here, or should I come pick you up?"

"It seems awfully silly for you to have to come all the way out to Stars Hollow just to drive back to Hartford."

"I don't mind.  Besides, it gives me a reason to get out of the house.  My parents are away, so it gets pretty quiet here."

"Wow, I can't even imagine a quiet house."

"Be grateful.  Anyway, your mom would probably like to make sure that I'm not some serial killer."

"You go to Chilton.  She knows you're not a serial killer."

"I don't know if that's necessarily criteria for exclusion as a serial killer.  You have met Paris, right?"

Rory laughed.  "Good point.  Well, if it's not too much trouble, then I'd rather have you drive."

"Great.  I'll pick you up around 6:15, so we'll have plenty of time."

"Okay.  Do you know how to get to Stars Hollow?"

"Vaguely.  Let me get a pen and paper, and you can give me directions."

After hastily scribbling down her instructions, Tristan said, "Well, I should probably go.  I'll see you tomorrow night, Rory."

"Alright.  Good night, Tristan."

"Good night, Rory."

Placing the phone gently back into its base, Tristan allowed a smile to cross his handsome features.  He was going to a poetry reading with Rory Gilmore tomorrow night.  And she had asked him.  Suddenly, the world seemed a whole lot brighter.  And the Hallmark sentiments rolled on…

*              *                *

                In Stars Hollow, Rory hung up the phone, a bemused expression on her face.  Things were getting, to quote Alice, "Curiouser and curiouser."  She hadn't quite figured out how she was going to tell Dean that she was going to a poetry reading in Hartford tomorrow night with Tristan DuGrey, but then, she wasn't too pleased with Dean at the moment.  For now, anyway, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

                As she stood in the kitchen musing, Rory heard the telltale click of the key in the lock.  Bounding into the hallway, she enveloped Lorelei in a hug as her mother entered the house.

                "Hi sweetie.  I missed you too…since it's been," she glanced at her watch, "all of thirty-seven minutes since we were last together.  What's going on?"

                Nuzzling her head on Lorelei's shoulder, Rory's reply was muffled, "I'm just glad that you're my mom, and you're here."

Lorelei held her daughter out at arm's length.  "Okay, now I'm worried.  Did something happen?  You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Mom!  No.  Can't a girl just be glad to see her mother?"

"Not this glad.  Not even you.  Now spill it."

Sighing, Rory allowed herself to be led into the living room, where they both had a seat on the sofa.  "Well, Dean and I had a pseudo-fight at the diner, and sometimes I wonder where our relationship is going, you know?  I mean, I love him, or at least I've told him I love him, but sometimes I feel like he's only with me because I said those words.  And school is going to start soon, and I sort of told Tristan that we could try and be friends, and I haven't precisely told Dean that yet, because Dean told me tonight that he doesn't think that Tristan and I should be friends.  I mean, I know that Dean sort of has a right to be concerned since Tristan hit on me for like, nine months or something, but who is Dean to think that he gets to decide whom I'm friends with?  And Tristan just called to tell me about this poetry reading in Hartford tomorrow that he thought I'd be interested in, and I am, and I kind of invited him to go with me.  It's not exactly like I want to go with Tristan, but I know Dean would hate it, and Mrs. Kim won't let Lane go, and you have Luke and Dorothy lined up for tomorrow night.  Besides, Tristan was the one who told me about it, and friends do stuff like this together, so it really shouldn't be a big deal.  But I know it will be a big deal to Dean, and if I tell him about it he'll get angry and probably tell me not to go, which will make me angry, so I don't want to tell him, but I also don't want to not tell him, because he's my boyfriend, and I shouldn't lie to my boyfriend, especially about another guy."

"Okay.  Stop.  Breathe."

"Thanks.  I needed that."

"I noticed.  Now, first things first.  What did you and Dean have a pseudo-fight about?"

"Well, we were talking about Chilton, and Dean said he wishes I didn't have to go back, and he doesn't trust Tristan.  I guess I was defending Tristan a little, and said maybe I could be friends with him, which was when Dean basically told me not to do that.  And I got mad, and made him bring me home."

"So basically, you were fighting over Tristan?"

"I guess."

"Hmm…I'm beginning to see a pattern here."

"What do you mean?"

"Patience, my child.  All will become clear in time.  Now, you said that you told Tristan you could be friends.  When exactly did that happen?  I thought you hadn't spoken since school let out, and as I recall that didn't go very well."

Rory squirmed under her mother's intense gaze.  "You know how the movie tonight was really terrible?"  Lorelei nodded.  "Well, I left to go to the bathroom and get some candy, mostly just to get out of the theater, and I ran into Tristan in the lobby.  We talked, and I apologized for saying that I hated him, and he apologized too.  That's when we decided to give friendship another try."

"Does Dean know that you saw Tristan tonight?"

"No.  I knew it would just make him mad, even though it was completely by chance and we didn't talk more than five or ten minutes."

"Okay.  You saw Tristan tonight for the first time in months, and a matter of hours later he called you to tell you about a poetry reading?  Which you will now be attending with him, unbeknownst to your boyfriend?"

"Well…yes."

"Honey, I know you and Tristan are just friends, but don't you think maybe Dean has a right to be concerned about your relationship with him?"

"Mom, it's not like that.  Tristan didn't offer to go with me tomorrow, so it's not like he's pushing for a date.  He actually suggested I go with Dean.  He knows I love Dean."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love Dean?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so.  I mean, I've told him that I do.  I know that he loves me."

"Yes, he does.  And he deserves to have someone love him just as much as he loves you.  I'm not saying that you don't, but maybe you should think about what you want from your relationship with Dean.  Are you still together because it's flattering and comfortable, and the thought of being alone again terrifies you?  Or do you truly believe that he is the right person for you?  Just think about it, okay?"

"Okay.  So where did all this newfound wisdom come from?"

"Let's just say that I know what it's like to be in this situation."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how you said that you couldn't imagine spending the rest of your life with Mr. Medina?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Is there anyone you can't imagine spending the rest of your life without?"

"Well, there's you, of course.  And Sookie.  And Luke, I suppose.  He does make great coffee.  Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I was just wondering."  Rory hid a smile, imagining Lorelei's reaction when she finally realized that the main reason she hadn't been entirely happy with Max was because he wasn't Luke.

"Enough serious talk!  What do you say we break out the cappuccino ice cream and watch Nick at Nite?"

"Nick at Nite?"

"Sure.  I hear they're doing Pop-Up Brady Bunch now."

"Um, okay.  I guess."

"Yay!"