Title: Pride and Prejudice
Author: Laura
Rating: PG
Summary: Rory Gilmore thinks she finally has it figured out. She's back with Dean and is looking forward to a fun-filled summer with him and her best friend, Lane, in Stars Hollow. But when Tristan DuGray shows up and intrudes upon her life, she immediately thinks that her summer is ruined. But life proves otherwise.
Disclaimer: Based on the characters, settings and situations created by Amy Sherman-Palladino.

Chapter Three: Jumping To Conclusions

He glares at her, obviously ready for their daily bickering. She smiles at him as she sits down.

"Please tell me you didn't just call me *Lukey*."

"I could tell you that, but that would make a liar out of me," Lorelai replies. "And we wouldn't want that."

"Oh no. Because the last thing the world needs is a flighty, annoying coffee addict who lies."

"You think I'm flighty?"

"More flighty than most."

"But not flaky, right?"

"No, Sookie is flaky. You're flighty. Can I stop talking like this now?"

"Only if you give me some coffee."

"Or I could just walk away and leave you here. I think that's the better option."

"Oh, come on, Luke. I need my coffee today. Badly. Max is coming here to meet me for lunch."

"He's coming here?" Luke's voice immediately tightens, and the agitation in his tone startles Lorelai for a moment.

"Yes, he's coming to Stars Hollow," Lorelai replies, giving him a strange look. "Sookie is making us lunch. Is that illegal or something? You're getting all jumpy on me."

"I am not jumpy."

"Suit yourself."

"Where's Rory today?" Luke asks, deliberately changing the subject.

"She's at the country club with her grandparents," Lorelai makes a hideous face. "Probably playing golf or god knows what by now."

"Oh dear god no." Luke says flatly and Lorelai rolls her eyes at him.

"She's going to come home saying things like 'Marion George was wearing the most hideous blazer this afternoon. It looked like a cheap imitation Liz. How dare she show her face in public' and you expect me to remain calm?"

"Marion George?"

"I made her up."

"You have quite the imagination."

"Yes I do. Be quiet. My point is that Rory could be coming home talking like she's one of those trust fund kids you see in movies. Like the jerks in Revenge of the Nerds."

"You know Rory would never act like that," Luke says.

"I know," Lorelai admits. "And my mother was kind enough to grant two of their guest passes to Dean and Lane, so Rory will have people to anchor her in reality."

"Well, that's good. We wouldn't want her floating away into fantasy land, now would we?"

"No, we wouldn't," Lorelai replies, then pauses for a moment before collapsing against the counter. "I just wish she hadn't gone today. I need her today!"

"Why?"

"Max, obviously."

"Not obvious enough for us sane people to understand. Why would Rory have to be here for-"

"For moral support!" Lorelai exclaims. "Today is the day, Mr. Danes. I told Max I would give him an answer to that whole marriage proposal thing."

"You make it sound so romantic."

"Since when have you been a fan of romance?"

"I'm not," Luke states. "You're the one with the flowers and the fairy tales and all that gushy stuff. Shouldn't you be excited about all this?"

"It's been a month since he asked me," Lorelai informs him, looking displeased. "The whole romantic aspect of this situation has been drained of its existence. The daises are dead and long gone and all that's left is little Lorelai Gilmore, sitting here still pondering whether to answer using two letters or three."

"Can I offer you some advice?"

"Advice from Luke. This ought to be good," Lorelai leans over the counter toward him as if eager to hear what he has to say.

"If you've been putting off giving the guy an answer for a *month*, I think it's pretty obvious what the answer should be."

"Not obvious enough for us insane people to understand," Lorelai smirks.

"If you wanted to marry him, you would've said yes by now. There's gotta be a reason why you keep putting the discussion off."

"Yes, there is a reason. It's name is Rory. This is a huge, *huge* deal for the both of us. It has to be handled delicately. I'm not about to leap into anything."

"Rory's a big girl. She can handle whatever decision you make. If you ever make one."

"Are you trying to taunt me into making a decision?" Lorelai inquires, raising an eyebrow. Luke just shrugs innocently and tosses his towel over his shoulder, leaning against the back counter.

"I don't care one way or the other, Lorelai," he lies. "You can marry Max, if that's what you want. I just don't think that it's the right decision for you."

"Is there any coffee to go along with this stellar advice or am I going to have to go elsewhere?" Lorelai gestures to the empty counter in front of her. Luke grunts and reluctantly gets a mug, setting it down with a thud in front of her. He grabs the coffee pot and fills it up, shaking his head. "Thank you."

"No problem." They are both silent for a moment. Lorelai watches him carefully, trying to tell what he's thinking. When she is unable to decode the look on his face, she lets out a frustrated groan.

"Aren't you even going to tell me why you think Max is a bad thing for me?"

"I was getting the impression that my opinion was unwanted," Luke replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's never stopped you before."

"It's stopping me now."

"No, no it's not. You're just not telling me because you know it'll annoy me. You're doing this to annoy me."

"Funny how the tables turn," Luke smirks.

"I'm going to work now. You're evil."

"I also gave you decaf."

"Most evil man on *earth*. The devil is in awe of you and your evilness, that’s how evil you are. I'm not your friend anymore," Lorelai turns and tells him before walking out of the diner. Luke watches her disappear around the corner in a huff, laughing gently to himself. His smile fades quickly when he thinks of Lorelai and her upcoming lunch with Max. He had pretended to not really care all that much, but inside he was begging Lorelai to listen to him and say no. She couldn't marry Max; but what was stopping her? He couldn't tell her how he really felt, that was impossible. A customer calls out for Luke and shakes him from his reverie. Worrying about Lorelai would have to wait until later.

*******

"Rory, this place is amazing. I can’t imagine getting to come here on a regular basis," Lane says, half-whispering, as they walk slowly through the grounds on the country club. "How much does it cost for a membership here?"

"A lot of money and the extra price of maintaining an excellent reputation according to their standards," Rory replies. "It also helps to have a permanently turned up nose and a condescending attitude. That’s why my mom hates it so much here."

"She seemed really cool about you coming though," Dean says, twining his fingers in hers as they stopped next to the lake and watched a few paddleboats slowly move through the water.

"Inwardly freaking out," Rory explains. "She’s been trying to not to get so flipped out when I do things with my grandparents. It was her New Year’s resolution."

"That's a good resolution. Mine was to stop sneaking so much junk food past my mother into my room," Lane laughs, then looks guilty. "That lasted for about two days. I went to your house and gorged on all the candy you still had left from Christmas and that was over. Went to Doose's Market the next day and stocked up."

"There's no way to resist candy if you're at the Gilmore house," Dean states, chuckling. He smiles at Rory. "Lorelai has got candy for every occasion."

"And then some," Lane adds.

"That she does," Rory agrees. "And I have back-up just in case she runs out." She glances around, wiping the sweat from her brow. It is about noon, and the sun is right over head, beating down. "God, it's has to be about 100 degrees out here."

"I was thinking more like 110."

"You guys want to go sit in the shade?" Dean asks, gesturing to a large willow tree that is by the edge of the lake. "Rory, you like weeping willows, right?" He teases, thinking back to the first night he was at the Gilmores and Lorelai had told him about how Rory had once tried to cheer up a weeping willow when she was little. Rory rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, embarrassed.

"Someday I'm going to make my mom pay for telling that story," she mutters. They wander under the shade of the tree and stand there silently for a moment. It's only a few seconds before Rory lets out a groan. "Okay, so it's only like 95 in the shade. This isn't helping. I really wish there was a breeze today."

"Yeah, the air is just like, hanging around me, sticking to me. It's quite oppressive."

"The heat is oppressive?" Dean looks at Lane, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a fan of personification, Nark. Don't mock me."

"You're calling him Nark now too?" Rory exclaims. "What has my mother done to you people?" Lane just smiles.

"Well, she’s right, it is catchy. It fits Dean perfectly. But I only call him that when he's being annoying."

"I'm never annoying," Dean intercuts, laughing.

"Yes, and Eminem is a pillar of political correctness," Lane retorts.

"Who is up for hitting the pool?" Rory suggests, looking back toward the main buildings of the club as she lifts her long hair off of her neck. "I'm about to die out here."

"We certainly don't want that. Are you feeling faint from the heat? Cause I can do the whole knight in shining armor thing and carry you back," Dean offers gallantly, but jokingly.

"No, save the chilvalry. I'm sure you'll need it for the time we get stuck in a blizzard and I hurt myself and you have to carry me to safety through 60 mph winds, blinding snow and freezing temperatures, sacrificing all of your toes to horrible frostbite just to keep me alive."

"I'll have my snow shoes ready."

"Can we put a stop to the witty banter here and go swimming? My feet are melting into my flip-flops here," Lane interrupts. "I have no need for a plastic mold of my feet."

"Okay, let's go," Rory leads the group back toward the swimming area, hoping that the large pool wouldn't be too full of loud, spoiled children and elder members of the club who did laps at the pace of handicapped turtles.

*******

Rory ties her towel tightly around her waist and glances at Lane, who is slipping her glasses back on.

"You're not going to swim with those on, are you?" Rory asks, confused.

"Quite possibly," Lane shrugs. "I'm going to keep them on as long as possible. Or else I'm sure to go walking straight off the edge and fall face first into the pool. And while I'm sure I won't be seeing these people ever again, I'd rather not have my trip to your grandparents' country club to be marred by an embarrassing experience."

Rory slips her belongings into a locker and closes it tightly, double checking to make sure it's locked.

"You do realize that if you took your glasses off, I would be more than happy to guide you to the pool and save you from walking into a pole or something. I know I've had my moments of being a bad friend, but letting you play Velma is something I've never done."

"I know you wouldn't, but I think I'll keep them on anyway. I like being able to see. It helps," Lane replies. "Besides, when I was over in the changing rooms, a heard a whole bunch of girls gossiping about this really hot lifeguard. Apparently he's *gorgeous*, a blonde Adonis of some kind."

"How old were these girls? I've never seen anyone my own age here, the few times I've come. They have to be like eleven."

"I think they were more like thirteen, but that's beside the point. They said he's hot."

"But can you trust their opinion?"

"That's why the glasses are staying on. I have to see for myself," Lane looks toward the exit, nodding. "You ready to go take a peek?"

"I'm ready to go swimming, but somehow I don't think Dean would be too happy with me checking out the lifeguards."

"I don't think Henry would be thrilled, but there's no harm in *looking*, Rory. It's perfectly natural." Lane grabs Rory's hand and pulls her in the direction of the pool. Rory hastily grabs her bag from the bench, almost falling over as Lane hurries along.

"Hey, you know, I really like my arm and I would like to keep it," Rory tells her best friend as they come to a stop just outside the door, the bright sunlight and steaming heat hitting them like a brick wall.

"I wish I had remembered my sun glasses," Lane mumbles, letting her eyes adjust for a moment before stepping out and looking around. Rory scans the area for Dean, but he's nowhere to be found. The pool is actually not that full, a couple of middle-aged women sunning themselves on the patio. Lane puts her hand to her forehead to block the sunlight as she immediately begins looking for the supposedly hot guard. Spotting the supposedly cute lifeguard across the pool, Lane shrieks and hits Rory on the arm. "There he is! And man, they were *not* lying. What a total hottie!" Lane points and Rory looks over.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rory groans.

"You can't possibly stand there and not appreciate that fine male specimen, Rory. Maybe you're the one who needs glasses," Lane scoffs. "Those girls were not wrong."

"Lane." Rory stops her in her admiration. There is no humor or amusement in her voice, her face a perfect picture of seriousness. "That 'fine male specimen' over there is Tristan. Tristan DuGrey." Lane gasps and looks back over at the lifeguard, then back at Rory, then repeats the process all over again.

"No way. That's Tristan? Your Tristan?"

"He's not *my* Tristan."

"What other Tristan is there?"

"No...I mean...he's the Tristan I know and talk about but he's not my Tristan. You called him 'your Tristan' and he's not *my* Tristan," Rory babbles, trying to clarify. Lane eyes her. "But yes, that's Tristan."

"Rory, you never told me he was a god."

"Probably because I don't think he is one," Rory remarks flatly.

"You can't possibly take a step back and appraise him objectively? I mean, if you were just meeting him, wouldn't you think that he was beautiful?"

"No."

"Perhaps you should look at him again," Lane suggests.

"Lane, it's not like this is the first time you've ever seen him. He was at the party we went to at Madeleine's!"

"Like I was looking at anything but Henry that night! And if I wasn't looking at Henry, I was flipping out about Henry. Tristan could've been standing right next to me and I wouldn't have noticed. But now...I'm calm and I'm noticing."

"Well, have fun noticing. I'm going to go find Dean," Rory says, turning to walk away.

"Rory..." Lane whines, stopping her. "You don't have to appreciate his utter gorgeousness, but shouldn't you at least go over and say hello? I thought you guys were getting along better."

"I haven't seen or spoken to him in over a month. Just because we had a good day at the mall, doesn't mean-"

"You shouldn't ignore him now. He's going to see you here and he's going to know that you've seen him, and if you don't at least say hi, well..."

"Well, what?" Rory asks.

"I just think you should go over there. And that I should come with you and get a close-up look at him." Lane looks at Rory pleadingly, tugging on her hand. Rory tilts her head and closes her eyes for a moment, as if trying to will herself not to give in. She opens her eyes and sighs.

"Okay, fine..." she mutters. Lane grins and jumps up and down once, clapping her hands.

"Excellent!"

Lane and Rory make their way around the perimeter of the pool slowly. Rory adjusts the towel around her waist nervously, wishing that she hadn't chosen today to debut her new bikini. She felt uncomfortable enough in it already, and facing Tristan DuGrey would only make things worse. He could pick up on her insecurities faster than anyone she'd ever met in her life.

"You know, it really scares me that they're trusting you to be in charge of saving people's lives," Rory calls up to him as they stop next to his chair.

"You couldn’t just say hello like a normal person?" Lane whispers as Tristan looks down quickly in surprise, shocked to be hearing her familiar and lovely voice.

"Rory?" He is momentarily puzzled, but tries to cover it. He hadn't expected to see her at the club, knowing how her mother was about such things. He thought he was safe from her here. After she had sent him back the tickets, he had sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have to face her again until school. "Hey." The greeting comes out kind of meekly, his voice cracking. Realizing he sounds like an idiot, Tristan summons up all the swagger he can manage. "What are you doing here?"

"Swimming," she replies matter-of-factly. "Or about to, anyway. What are you doing, trying to hit on the female lifeguards?" He climbs down from his chair assuredly, jumping down lightly from the third rung of the ladder.

"No, I *am* a lifeguard," Tristan replies, turning to Lane with a smile. She practically melts, her eyes glazing over slightly. "And you must be Lane, right? Rory talks about you all the time." Lane doesn't say anything. "How are you?" Tristan asks after a moment, wondering what is the matter with Rory's friend as she continues to stare at him.

"Oh, I'm good," Lane finally replies, smiling. "Glad I wore my glasses today."

"They’re nice glasses," Tristan replies, not sure what else to say. Tristan turns to Rory, who is again playing with the edge of her towel. She's pulling at a frayed corner, turning it into a kind of fringe. "So, you here with your grandparents?"

"Yeah..." Rory replies softly, obviously still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Tristan is standing next to her. "So...not to sound rude or anything but...you're...*working* here?"

"That I am," Tristan laughs lightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"I think she means why are you working when you so obviously don't have to," Lane interjects, then covers her mouth. "Wow, that came out very Roseanne Barr demanding bitch like."

"That's okay. I like bluntness. I hate it when people dance around what they want to say," Tristan tells Lane. He has to bite back a sardonic laugh, thinking of the intense irony of the statement he had just made. Right, Tristan...you're one to talk. You're the one who doesn't say what you're thinking. He glances at Rory, wondering what she is thinking. "And as for why I'm working here," Tristan finally continues after a moment's pause, "I'm working here because they were short on lifeguards this summer and needed the help. I’m trained, so I offered. Anything to get me away from my parents as much as possible."

"But don’t your parents don't come to the country club?" Rory asks, her face twisting in puzzlement. "I thought they were members, my grandparents once mentioned-"

"Oh, they are, but they're too busy to come anytime except the weekends. So, I work from 11-8 every single weekday so I can avoid interaction with them at home, and also so I don't have to work the weekends when they're here. It works rather well."

"Seems like a good system," Rory agrees, nodding. An awkward silence settles and Rory shifts her gaze to the ground, shuffling her feet. Lane watches Tristan watch Rory, immediately agreeing with Lorelai's secret theory that Tristan liked Rory. They had discussed it together one night when Lane had dropped by only to find out that Rory was out with Dean. Rory had just mailed the U2 tickets back to Tristan and Lorelai was quite huffy about it. Observing Tristan first hand, it is clear that Lorelai is right.

"Hey...so, did you ever listen to that CD I picked out?" Tristan inquires, trying to get the conversation going again. Rory smiles at him, almost gratefully. She had clearly been racking her brain for something to say.

"Yeah, I did, actually. I love it. I listen to it all the time," Rory answers him truthfully. "I love 'Ahead by a Century' and '700 ft. Ceiling.' Do you like the Jude CD?"

"It's awesome. He is a really amazing songwriter," Tristan says and Rory grins.

"I knew you'd like it. Any songs that really caught you?"

"'Brad & Suzy,'" Tristan informs her, shrugging and smiling as if embarrassed. "The part at the beginning about them being cardboard cutout superheroes-"

"And paragons on bar stools?" Rory finishes with an even bigger smile.

"Yeah, I love that."

"I am really surprised."

"But I thought you knew I'd like it," Tristan smirks.

"I knew you'd like it if you gave it a chance, but I didn't think you would. I figured you'd toss it in a desk drawer somewhere with your other junk."

"Well, for once you were wrong," he replies. "I better mark it down on the calendar."

"I've been a Jude fan and a Tragically Hip fan for longer than both of you," Lane interrupts teasingly, and from the looks on their faces she can tell they had forgotten she was even standing there. "So I guess I have both of you beat. I am a music goddess."

"Among many other things," Rory replies.

"I can tell from the tone of your voice that you meant that as an insult but I'm choosing to read it as a compliment," Lane retorts. "I defy you."

"Consider me defied."

The three of them exchange looks as they all try to think of a way to continue the conversation. No one says anything for a moment and Tristan seems like he’s about to go crazy. He glances away from Rory and Lane, his hand absently running through his hair.

"I guess I better get back up there and do my job," Tristan mumbles, squinting as he looks up at the sun. He turns back to the pair with a shrug. "They’re not paying me to stand around and talk, after all."

"Wow, Tristan has work ethic," Rory says, amazed. "I never would’ve thought."

"Yeah," Tristan just sighs, leaving Rory a bit puzzled. He always had a witty comeback for everything she said. It wasn’t like him to just let her tease or insult him without a fight. "My main boss is here today, so I shouldn’t slack off. Thought I don’t know why he’s here, it’s not like we’re even busy."

"Yeah, what is that about? There’s a definite lack of swimming patrons here today."

"Well, it’s a holiday week. A lot of families go away for the Fourth of July."

"Really?" Lane asks. "Where do they go? I mean-I never thought it was a big travel holiday."

"They go to the Vineyard, to Boston, to New York City-there’s all kinds of ritzy parties and useless celebrations everywhere," Tristan explains. "My parents are going to London, actually."

"What a way to be patriotic, leaving the country on the Fourth of July to visit the very nation we are celebrating our independence from," Rory smiles, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, my dad has some business to take care of. He doesn’t stop for holidays," he says, frowning. "Besides, my older brother is at Oxford so they’re going to visit him."

"If they’re going away, what are you doing for the Fourth of July?" Rory inquires, almost feeling bad for him. "You’re going to be all by yourself?"

"Yeah, but it’s not like it’s Christmas or anything. Not a big deal. I’ll probably end up throwing a party or something. Since I have the house to myself, it'd be kind of a sacrilege not to." Noticing the concerned look on Rory's face, Tristan tries to reassure her he's not bothered by it. "I wouldn’t have spent the time with my parents anyway, I'm not exactly going to be scarred for life.

"Oh. My mom and I always hang out on the Fourth of July...I can't imagine doing something without her. This year we’re going to play it simple, probably pack a picnic, go to the beach, go see the fireworks, then go home and watch a silly movie. Lane always comes with no matter what we do, and this year Dean and Max – I mean, Mr. Medina - are probably going to come too."

"Sounds like a lot of fun," Tristan says, a little jealous of both Rory’s relationship with her mother and over the mention of Dean spending the holiday with Rory.

"You should come and hang with us!" Lane exclaims spontaneously, grinning. Rory’s eyes just about fall out of her head and she gasps out loud. Tristan pretends not to notice but her reaction to Lane’s suggestion felt like a knife through his heart. Faking a smile, Tristan shakes his head.

"Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass this time around," he tells Lane graciously. Rory breathes a sigh of relief, then quickly tries to recover.

"That’s too bad," Rory smiles lightly. "But I’m sure whatever you end up doing, you’ll have fun."

"Yeah, sure," Tristan replies, averting his eyes from her. He focuses on Lane, not wanting Rory to see the hurt he was sure his eyes held. Why does Rory have so much power over him? He hated it sometimes. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Lane." He takes her hand and kisses it, laying a charming smile on her as he pulls away. "I’ll see you around, Mary." He climbs back up the ladder and retakes his seat, not even looking at Rory as he says good-bye.

"Bye," Rory mumbles. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she felt slightly hurt by his sudden distance in those last few seconds of their conversation. He varied so much in his behavior toward her; one second he was open and the next a brick wall had been erected between them. She hadn’t meant to act so rude about Lane’s invitation for him to join them in the Independence Day celebration, but the thought of him and Dean being together for an entire day, along with the added pressure of her mom being present, was just too wild a concept to even consider. It was bad enough even having Tristan be in the same general area as Dean right now. Having them hang out together was insane.

Rory looks up at him for a few moments, but he's clearly focusing on other things. Lane giggles as they turn away and walk back toward the changing rooms. She doesn't notice the strange look on Rory's face.

"Rory, he could be a Baywatch Babe. With the red trunks and the whistle hanging down against his perfectly sculpted and deeply tanned chest?" Lane groans, tossing a last look at him over her shoulder. "Wow."

"Lane, you’re talking about Tristan as if he's the sixth Backstreet Boy and it is really freaking me out," Rory remarks. "Next thing I know you're going to paint I Love Tristan on a big cardboard sign and stand next to his lifeguard chair shrieking and fainting."

"Do you think they'd throw me out for that?" Lane jokes. For a second Rory thinks that Lane is serious, which sends Lane into hysterics. "I was kidding, Rory. I'm just saying Tristan is a total hottie. He may not be the best person in the world, but as eye candy, he suits his purpose. You've got to admit that."

"I don't have to admit anything."

"But you're not denying it."

"I plead the fifth on all issues concerning Tristan DuGrey from this moment forth."

"Ah ha! So perhaps you wouldn't mind him practicing a little mouth to mouth on you," Lane teases her, giggling. Rory rolls her eyes and tugs on her hair, wishing that Lane had never run into Tristan. So what if Tristan is remotely good looking? It doesn't change who he is, and the last thing she needed was Lane joining her mother's choir of Tristan worship, endlessly singing chorus after chorus of praise for his soul-shocking blue eyes and his concert ticket buying ability.

"I think we should stop talking about Tristan all together. This past month of not talking about Tristan has been a good month. A great month, in fact. We should continue the trend."

"What trend?" Dean's voice causes Rory to jump a mile. He gets up from his place on the bench by the side of the pool and walks over to them. "You guys took forever to come out. Did you get lost in there?"

"No, we came out awhile ago. We beat you out here, in fact. How's that for sex stereotypes reversed," Lane replies.

"We took a walk around the pool while we were waiting," Rory explains.

"See anything good?"

"Nope, no interesting people have come swimming today. Though there was one lady swimming laps with Scooby Doo painted on her bathing cap. That was amusing."

"Sounds very interesting," Dean nods, trying to bite back a smile. He pats his dry swim trunks. "Who's ready to get wet?"

"Oh, that'd be me," Lane heads for the water immediately, not waiting for the two of them to come along. Dean and Rory exchange looks.

"So, are you one of those types who gets used to the water very slowly by wading in or are you a dive bomb into the deep end kind of girl?"

"I prefer to call it making a splashy entrance," Rory corrects him with a haughty air, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean laughs.

"Ah, forgive me. Well, let's make our splashy entrance, then." Dean takes her hand and they walk down to the deep end of the pool. "Diving board or off the side?"

"Oh, definitely off the side. Diving board gets too much water up your nose," Rory explains.

"Spoken like a true experience swimmer."

"These things are important. Nothing worse than the feeling of getting water up your nose."

"Nothing?"

"Well, perhaps there is something worse, but right now I just can't be bothered to think of it," Rory shrugs. "Ready? On the count of three. 1...2...3!" They jump in together, creating a big enough splash to attract a lot of attention. Tristan watches as the pair surfaces, laughing hysterically together. Rory tries to get her hair out of her face, giggling and exclaiming how she should have remembered to tie it back before swimming. The sight of the two of them together makes Tristan feel like he's about to be physically ill.

"Man, this water is freezing," Dean sputters as Rory splashes him playfully.

"That's a good thing. Have you already forgotten how warm it is out of the pool? If you have, I think you have short term memory problems." Rory's voice bounces slightly as she treads water. She glances down toward the shallow end, where Lane is slowly getting used to the water while trying to avoid the energetic children around her. One of them splashes her and she jumps, shrieking. She's almost entirely soaked. Giving up, she takes off her glasses and dunks under the water. After surfacing, she puts her glasses back on and swims over toward Dean and Rory.

"I know now why I can never stand babysitting," she mutters as she stops next to them. "Children are obnoxious."

"Aw, come on. It's better that you just get used to the water in one fell swoop," Dean says.

"Having one huge shock to your system is a good thing? I don't think so. That's how people have heart attacks."

"People get heart attacks from jumping into the water?" Rory questions, clearly just egging Lane on.

"No, they get them from sudden shocks," Lane huffs, annoyed. Dean and Rory laugh. "You can chuckle about it now, but when I suddenly go into cardiac arrest, I don't think you'll be laughing then."

A sharp whistle rings out and the three of them turn their heads. Tristan is giving quite a stern warning to some young boys and girls who were trying to chicken fight. Rory laughs to herself, the sight of Tristan DuGrey, the self-proclaimed king of reckless abandon, laying down the law and enforcing the rules. Dean doesn't recognize Tristan at first, but when he notices Rory's gaze hanging on him, he glances back.

"What is he doing here?" He asks, clearly concerned. Rory turns to him, trying not to act like it ever occurred to her that Dean would be annoyed by Tristan's presence. She swims to the side and hangs onto the gutter, tired of treading. Lane excuses herself from the situation, muttering something about

"What's who doing here?" She replies with another question.

"Tristan." Dean obviously knows that she had seen him and that she's playing dumb, and he doesn't seem happy about it.

"He's working as a life guard," Rory shrugs. "I think that's pretty self-explanatory considering he's in the chair."

"Did you know he was going to be here?"

"No, I didn't," Rory retorts, her tone getting slightly edgy. "But what does it matter? We're here, he's here, but it's not like we have to hang out with him. You don't even have to acknowledge his presence." Dean rests his arm on the gutter next to Rory, looking her in the eyes. He's still unhappy. "Look, Dean...I go to school with Tristan. I'm going to be seeing him every single day. I'm going to be in his classes. You can't keep getting all jealous or suspicious whenever we're in a five mile radius of one another. It's insane, not only because there's nothing going on there and there never will be anything going on there, but because I've never given you cause to think that anything ever *was* there. You're getting all worked up over some silly spat the two of you had at the dance."

"I know that, I just..." Dean starts sheepishly. "I know I have no reason to be concerned, Rory...I guess I'm just insecure. He can offer you all these things that I can't-"

"But I don't want them! I don't need someone to buy me things and take me to rich parties. I don't need stupid tickets to concerts. That's not what relationships are about," Rory says, but Dean doesn't look too convinced. "I mailed him back the tickets to the U2 concert, didn't I? I don't want Tristan. I want you."

"What about U2 tickets?" He asks and Rory bites her lip. Oops. She had never told him about all of that.

"Oh...Tristan just gave me a pair of U2 tickets to apologize for the whole PJ Harvey thing...you know...since PJ was opening for them and all. There were supposed to be for you and me...but...I just couldn't use them. It was a nice thought and everything but I had to mail them back to him. He meant it as an apology, really. He wasn't trying to..." Rory drifts off. "He was just trying to be nice. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want it to turn into this whole big thing that we would argue about when it really wasn't an issue and it didn't mean anything to me at all."

"He gave you tickets to see U2..."

"Yeah. But I gave them back. And I mailed them to him, I didn't even see him."

"And he said they were for me and you? He didn't say you had to go with him?"

"No..." Rory furrows her brow, not sure where he's going with this. "You didn't want me to actually go to the concert, did you?"

"It would've been cool to see U2. Especially if we didn't have to pay," Dean chuckles.

"But you hate Tristan."

"Yeah, I do. And he probably gave you the tickets counting on the fact that I wouldn't go, and then you'd ask him to go. If I actually went, that'd really mess up his plans. I get to see a concert and piss him off all at the same time," Dean grins. He looks at Rory, who is astonished.

"You don't think it's wrong for him to try to buy my forgiveness? My friendship? You don't see anything wrong with that." Rory is upset by Dean's attitude.

"Rory, I was just kidding around. You're right...if you had suggested that we use the tickets in seriousness, I probably would've had the same reaction you did. Probably worse. I would've been really angry."

"But now...you're not."

"No, do you want me to be?"

"Of course not. I was just expecting Jealous Dean, not Joking Dean. Certainly not Relaxed and Easygoing Dean. I don't *like* Jealous Dean, but I was getting all prepared to deal with Jealous Dean, you see."

"Well, sorry. I picked up on that intense dislike you felt for Jealous Dean a few minutes ago and decided that he had seen enough action for the day. Though since now I'm talking about myself in third person, you might have to deal with Schizophrenic Dean."

"Better than Jealous Dean," Rory laughs. "And more useful. I can use you as a project for psychology class next year."

"You really have to take psychology?"

"Unfortunately," Rory mumbles. Dean smiles and leans in and kisses her gently.

"Sorry."

"I don’t mind taking psychology if you keep kissing me out of pity," Rory smiles.

"I’ll have to kiss you a lot then."

"Indeed." They kiss again, this time for a little longer. Across the pool, Tristan hurriedly climbs down the ladder, never more happy to be relieved of duty for his lunch break. If he had to sit up there and watch Rory and Dean together for a minute longer, he probably would’ve lost his mind.

"Is it safe for me to come back?" Lane is standing above them on the pool deck. Rory and Dean look up at her with smiles. She grins and heads for the ladder, climbing back into the pool. "I take it the obligatory little quarrel over Baywatch Boy is over?"

"Baywatch Boy?"

"Lane's nickname, not mine."

"Oh."

"Don’t worry, Dean, Rory thinks you’re way hotter than him," Lane tells Dean. "She won’t even so much as look at Tristan."

"I think we’ve had enough discussion about Tristan today," Rory chimes once again. "As a matter of fact, I think we talk about Tristan too much entirely, considering that he and I are barely friends. How about we talk about something more important, like global warming?"

"And what are your thoughts on global warming?"

"I didn’t mean let’s literally talk about global warming, I just meant let’s change the topic," Rory sighs.

"So you don’t have a view on global warming," Dean says.

"Of course I do. The same view everyone has. It’s bad. It’s pretty hard to think that the polar ice caps melting and flooding the world is a good thing. But I don’t particularly feel like discussing it or possible solutions any place besides the educational forum at this juncture in my life."

"Sometimes you scare me," Lane states, shaking her head at Rory.

"Thank you. Anyone feel like getting something to eat? I’m having a craving for potato chips," Rory heads for the ladder, not waiting for an answer.

"We’re gonna stay in the nice cold water like sane people," Dean says as Rory climbs onto the deck, dripping water everywhere. She shrugs, not really caring.

"I’ll be back in a few minutes," Rory calls as she grabs her towel from a patio chair and haphazardly dries herself off before tying it around her waist. Slipping on her flip flops and grabbing her small bag, she heads inside toward the snack bar.

Once she’s out of Lane and Dean’s sight, Rory lets out a long sigh and lets her shoulders slump. This day was not what she had expected it to be. So far, she only felt overheated, overtired, and irritated. Why was it that whenever Tristan DuGrey entered her life, things always shifted? No one else she’d ever met had the ability to affect her so quickly and with so little effort.

She buys a small bag of chips, getting extremely frustrated with the task of digging her money out of her cluttered bag. Rory rips open the bag in anger, accidentally spilling some chips onto the floor. As she bends down to pick them up, she hears Tristan’s voice. She looks up quickly and expectantly despite herself, but is surprised to find that he’s not standing above her, smirk prepared. He’s sitting at a table across the room, involved in conversation with a girl that Rory didn’t recognize. The girl is absolutely stunning, tall, thin and shapely, her long blonde hair falling down her perfectly tanned back. Rory can't take her eyes off the pair, though she keeps telling herself to. Tristan was smiling and the girl was laughing. She watches as Tristan offers her part of her lunch, which she waves away with another peal of laughter, as if the notion were the silliest thing she'd ever heard.

"Girls like her probably don't eat," Rory mutters to herself, annoyed. She glances down at her bag of potato chips. So what if Tristan was hanging with this other girl, talking with her, laughing with her. He could marry her for all she cared. "How typical of him," she mumbles, thinking that this girl was exactly the type she had always seen him with. The mindless, beautiful kind who found him infinitely charming and irresistably gorgeous. Crunching her half-full bag of chips into a ball, Rory tosses it into the garbage quite harshly and heads back out toward the pool.

Tristan sees Rory as she walks out, wondering if she had seen him. Not that it mattered. When Anna had come over and asked to sit with him, he had figured what the hell. Rory was obviously with Dean and happy with him; he had vowed to himself back at the end of school that he was going to get over Rory. It was considerably harder a task to accomplish when he kept running into her. The fact that neither of them could ever resist falling into their easy banter didn't help matters either. Tristan had thought about the possibility of the two of them becoming friends, but it was quickly turning into a vicious circle. He would try to smooth things over, they'd start to make some kind of headway, then he would find himself falling in love with her all over again and get angry with himself. He'd pull back, or she would pull back, and then they'd be back at square one again. Everything Rory did just confused him. They got along well at the mall, then she ran away. She returned the tickets to him even though she had agreed to keep them, but then she had come over and started a conversation with him today of her own voalition.

Tristan tries to pay attention to what Anna is saying, but he's having a hard time. He had run into Anna a couple of times over the past month; her parents were good friends with his parents, which didn't exactly give Anna a good start in his book. She was a junior at an all girls boarding school in Vermont and he had spent some time practically every summer hanging out with her. Their parents often pushed them together at parties and other events. Anna never seemed to mind, but Tristan did. The fact that his parents wanted the match drove him crazy, as did Anna's annoying tendency to laugh at things he said that weren't even funny. But Anna had made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that she wanted him and planned to get him, and since he needed something to get his mind off Rory, he figured he might as well spend some time trying to find some character traits of Anna's that he could make himself like.

He forces a smile as Anna says something that should have garnered a charming laugh, trying to stop thinking about Rory Gilmore. The whole point of eating lunch with Anna was to stop thinking about Rory being so nearby, just out at the pool. He sighs, realizing that it's useless. In fifteen minutes he'd have to be back on duty anyway, and there Rory would be yet again. With Dean.

"I think you and I should do something for the Fourth of July," Anna suggests, resting her head on her hands and propping her elbows up on the table. She gazes at Tristan attentively. "There's this really great celebration in the park downtown that I went to last year. Do you want to go?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Tristan shakes his head, coming out of his thoughts. Anna laughs lightly.

"You are just so adorable when you get distracted," Anna coos, smiling. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Oh, I think one of my teacher's probably mentioned it before when I nodded off in class," Tristan jokes and leans back in his chair. Anna laughs again and Tristan knows he's made a full recovery. "So, what were you saying about the Fourth of July?"

"I was inviting you to spend it with me. Downtown in the park," Anna fills him in. "This year they're playing Independence Day against the walls of one of the buildings, like the do at Bryant Park in New York City. People pack picnics and stuff like that. It's really great."

"Sounds like a good time," Tristan replies. "Do you want to meet there or do you want me to pick you up?"

"Why don't I come to your house before for a few...pre-party fireworks? And then we can just leave from there? Your house is closer to the park, after all..." Anna suggests coyly, actually winking at him. Tristan stops himself from rolling his eyes at her outrageousness, wondering why the girls that always seemed to be attracted to him were the kind who probably would've taken anyone as long as he was cute.

"That sounds great, Anna," Tristan can't help sounding slightly sarcastic, but luckily she doesn't pick up on it. "Why don't you call me tomorrow and we can work out the exact details? I have to get back to work now, unfortunately." Tristan musters up his best pout and a slow smile spreads across Anna's face. She stands up and gives him a short kiss on the lips, twining her fingers in the black cord of the whistle hanging around his neck, her fingernails scraping his chest lightly.

"Can't wait until then," Anna whispers quite seductively, turning away and picking up her tennis racket. "I have to go meet mother for another set," she explains in a normal voice, as if just seconds earlier she hadn't been giving him a cloaked proposition. "Maybe I'll stop by for a dip in the pool later to cool off."

"See you later then," Tristan murmurs before walking away, never more relieved to be free of someone's company. It wasn't even Anna; she actually was a decent person overall, and far more intelligent than she appeared to be. But she wasn't Rory. I can't win, Trisan thinks. I tell myself to find someone else because I can't have Rory, but when someone else comes along, I can't get past Rory.

Frustrated, Tristan mutters a few strong expletives under his breath and kicks the wall with his foot. Which in turn makes him swear again as well as earn a few strange looks from people walking by. He pauses for a moment and gets a grip on himself, taking a few deep breaths. Just pretend she's not here.

Impossible.

*******

"How was hell?"

"I don't know, I haven't been there," Rory replies to her mother's blunt greeting, tossing her bag onto the living room sofa. She plops down with an exhausted sigh next to Lorelai. "And I thought that technically you considered Grandma and Grandpa's house to be hell."

"Well, the country club is merely an extension of that. Another circle of hell, if you will."

"Ah. I see it all now."

"So?" Lorelai looks at Rory, patting her knee. "Tell me something reassuring, like how you and Lane threw spitballs at Miriam Johnston's big floppy straw hat or how Dean had to ward off all the bored, love-starved housewives' advances with his bare hands. Was he just like Johnny Castle, turning down some snooty woman for Baby?"

"There are so many things wrong with that, I don't even know where to begin."

"What? Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey pre-nose job, Jerry Orbach pre-Voice of the candle in Beauty and the Beast...Dirty Dancing is the best movie ever!"

"You said that about American Pie."

"Another damn fine piece of cinema. What?" Lorelai throws up her hands in reaction to Rory's strange look. "It was hilarious! You're coming to see the second one with me, right?"

"I'll have to squeeze it in after my lobotomy."

"You and your schedules," Lorelai mutters, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into the pillows. "Are you going to give your mother the littlest, smidgeon of a detail from your day?"

"Uh...it was really hot..."

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Okay, okay...Grandma played bridge and Grandpa was talking business, both of them remaining inside in the wonderful air conditioning."

"The three of you, I take it, did not take advantage of that technological marvel."

"No, we didn't. Went outside, came this close to doing Wicked Witch of the West impressions, but saved ourselves from becoming piles of goo by spending a massive amount of time in the pool."

"That's a nice pool."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, anything else?"

"Not really..." Rory looks away a second too soon and she is betrayed by her own actions.

"Not really? You're fibbing."

"Fibbing? What's next, are you going to put on an apron, tell me I'm telling you a falsehood, send me to bed without dinner and then bar me from going to the Sunday church picnic?"

"Nevermind the language, you're not verbalizing your way out of this one. What happened?" Lorelai pressures, sitting up straight. Rory is quiet, prompting Lorelai to pout and make a whimpering noise. "You're breaking my heart over here, kid."

"Tristan was there," Rory reluctantly mumbles. Lorelai's face lights up, just like Rory knew it would. "Don't...please?"

"Tristan...eh?" Lorelai nods knowingly. "Bet he was looking all nice in his khakis and country club polo shirt."

"No, actually he was wearing a pair of swimming trunks and not much else," Rory tells her, trying to grimace but not succeeding.

"And I bet you caught yourself looking at him a few times too many."

"No, but Lane certainly did. I almost had to get her a drool bucket."

"Not surprising. So, Tristan was swimming with you or was he just wearing swimwear off for the modeling purposes?"

"Try lifeguarding purposes."

"Oo, a lifeguard. You should've faked like you were drowning, then he could've saved you."

"The possibility crossed Lane's mind."

"But not yours."

"You seem to forget that Dean exists whenever Tristan comes into the conversation. It's like all of a sudden I'm single and you have me chasing after Tristan like all the other blonde bimbos he has following him around."

"That's amusing."

"What is?"

"You did this really funny voice and face thing when mentioning those bimbos."

"Because they disgust me."

"I think you're jealous."

"I am not jealous of any girl who wants to go after Tristan. More power to them."

"Okay..."

"Why do you do this? What is it about Tristan that has got you so wrapped up in getting me to like him? I don't understand you."

"You never understand me."

"But this time I *really* don't, I'm not just kidding. I'd like an explanation. Do you have something against Dean?" Rory stares at her mother, who shifts in her seat and makes a wishy washy face, trying to find a way to explain herself to her daughter.

"I don't have anything against Dean, honestly. He's a great guy, apart from the whole breaking your heart thing he did earlier this year. It's just that...I don't know, Rory...I just...I look at Tristan...I look at him and I see myself. I see how I felt at that age, how my life was...how trapped and how alone I felt," Lorelai hesitates, then gives up. "I look at him and I see me, okay? And I know that you could help him in the way that I wasn't."

"By dating him?"

"No...Rory, I'm just doing that to tease you, because it's fun. You get so worked up and it's just too irresistable a temptation. I know you're with Dean again and I don't want the two of you to break up or anything."

"Then what do you want?"

"I think that he's a kid who has everything he could ever want as far as material things go, but he lacks the relationships that are going to make him a complete person."

"He has friends. He's had many girlfriends."

"What kind of friends? What kind of girlfriends?" Lorelai fires back. "He needs someone real, Rory. And right now, I think that someone is you."

"See, I think that someone should be Paris."

"I think you tried that one already, dear," Lorelai reminds her. Rory rolls her eyes.

"Okay, true enough. But why does that someone have to be me?"

"Why? Because you're special."

"A real reason, Mom."

"I don't think the question is why, but why not? What are you so afraid of? I know the two of you can get along if you make your minds up to it, there's been glimmers of that every once in awhile, right? Like at the mall?"

"Yes..." Rory admits.

"So, you just have to stop the second-guessing and the childishness and be friends. And that's that."

"That simple?"

"It's amazing the simplicity that comes with concise decisions and clarity."

"If I'm friends with Tristan, Dean isn't going to like it."

"And Dean dictates your life? You're a Gilmore girl, Rory. We'll have none of that in this house. You be friends with who you want to be friends with and jealous silly boyfriends can take a hike."

"You would've been a great poster girl for the feminist movement."

"Another missed opportunity. If only I wasn't like, ten at the time."

"Damn the luck," Rory makes a shucks motion and stands up. "Making coffee. Want some?"

"Of course."

Rory gets up and walks to the kitchen. A few minutes later she calls Lorelai in.

"There is no coffee in that pot. That's a bad thing."

"I'm still figuring out this new coffee maker. You'd think it'd be an easy task, but this is just an insane amount of strange steps to get used to," Rory explains, flipping through the instruction book. Lorelai takes the book from her hands and throws it over her shoulder.

"No instructions! We've had this baby for over a month now, we've got to conquer it."

"Or we could get a coffee maker less likely to get a life of its own and take over our house."

"It makes such good coffee when we get it to work, though," Lorelao whines. She presses a few buttons and suddenly it starts to make noise. "See! Only took a couple of tries. We're improving."

"You are, but I'm not," Rory replies as she sits down at the table. A bright blue flier that's laying on top of her mother's messy stack of papers catches her eye and she picks it up. "What's this?"

"What's what?" Lorelai twists around to look. "Oh, that. I got that in the mail today. What do you think?"

"About this?"

"No, about Tom and Nicole. Of course that. You wanna go?"

"It sounds like fun. We could pack a huge picnic basket and everything. Cheer on Will Smith as he parades through a terrible action movie."

"Dude, that's not a bad movie. Bill Pullman is the President."

"Ah yes, a sure sign of Oscar worthy watching. Big explosions, alien life forms, and a mediocre actor playing our president."

"Better than George Dubya."

"Well, that's hardly a compliment. Haley Joel Osment would be a more believable world leader."

"He's a wicked smart little kid. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Only you, Mom."

"I know, I'm one of a kind," Lorelai laughs, bending down to watch the coffee slowly drip down into the pot.

"But anyway, this sounds like a good time. I can bring Dean and Lane, and of course, Max will probably meet us there-" Rory stops, noticing her mother's shoulders tense. "What's wrong?" Lorelai slowly turns to her daughter, wincing slightly.

"Max won't be coming with us."

"What happened?"

"Well, ya know how we were talking about those simple, concise decisions that bring clarity?"

"Yes..." Rory draws out slowly, not having a good feeling about what her mother is going to say.

"Max and I had lunch today and I said no." Lorelai blurts out quickly, leaving Rory absolutely stunned.

"You said...no?"

"Yep."

"When did you decide that?"

"Oh...as I said it."

"What?"

"Well, I was just sitting there and he asked me what I was thinking about...I looked into those big puppy dog eyes of his, and suddenly I just got this feeling. This feeling in my gut that told me that it wasn't him. He's not the man I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life."

"Are you sure that wasn't that commitment phobia feeling that was telling you that?"

"No, it wasn't." Rory doesn't believe her. "It wasn't! I know the difference. If it were that, my heart would be going a mile a minute and I'd be all panicky, flipping out. And I wouldn't be this calm now. I mean, I was calm then. I merely looked at him...and I felt serene. I felt confident. I just knew. I was looking at him, going 'are those the eyes I'm going to see every morning when I wake up until the day I die?' That's supposed to be reassuring, romantic...but I just didn't feel it. I can't imagine growing old with him, having to wash his dentures and having him pick me up when I fall on the ground and can't get up."

"Horrible imagery there, Mom."

"Sorry. The point is that he's just not the guy for me."

"And you're not freaking out about this?"

"Oh, I'm sure I will. I was a little wacky right after he said that he couldn't see me anymore and left me there alone, but Sookie was there to help. And she didn't make me pay for our food, so that was a plus." Lorelai stops, reaching out and taking Rory's hand in hers as she sits down across from her at the table. "Oh honey, are you okay with this? I know I didn't really give you any time to prepare for this. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision."

"No, I'm okay, I just..." Rory is a bit shaken. "It's gonna be weird to see him in school next year, that's all."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. I never meant to put you in a position like that."

"It's okay...I mean, it's not like I would've rather had you marry him just to save me from a few awkward moments passing by him in the hallway. He's not even my teacher anymore," Rory replies, finally getting her bearings back. "And to tell you the truth, I was really beginning to think that he wasn't right for you anyway. He's a great guy and all and you guys really got along, but you never seemed to fit together or be on the same page."

"Exactly," Lorelai shrugs. "And who knows, maybe a few years from now we'll bump into each other on a crowded street, a sign, like fate. Maybe someday we'll be in synch. But right now, it's just not the right thing for me."

"I agree."

"But I still think I need to wallow tonight."

"Perfect, because they're showing romance classics on AMC."

"But I can't go to Doose's and get junk food because Miss Patty knows about me and Max cause she came to the Inn today just as Max was leaving. I dodged her then, and I can't face her pity until at least tomorrow morning."

"I'll go the market right now and get stocked up, you don't have to move a muscle," Rory jumps up, gives her mother a kiss on the forehead and races for the door. "I'll be back before you can say cucharacha, so don't drink all the coffee."

Lorelai sits there for a moment after Rory leaves, lost in her own thoughts. Smiling faintly to herself, she stands up and walks to the cupboard, getting out two mugs, one that says Lorelai and another that says Little Lorelai on it.

"I have the best daughter on the planet," she murmurs happily, thanking her lucky stars that she had Rory to depend on at times like this. She goes and retrieves the now full pot of coffee and fills the two mugs, then sits down and waits patiently for Rory to return.

*******

"What can I get for you three fine ladies this afternoon?" Luke greets Lorelai, Rory and Lane as they walk into the diner. The three of them exchange confounded looks as Luke sets three large cups of iced coffee in front of them. "I saw you coming and I figured you'd need these."

Lorelai is dumbfounded.

"If I knew that being in a good mood was all it took to shut you up, I would've gladly smiled at you a few times in order to get a few minutes of silence while in your presence," Luke snorts, amused.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in an actual good mood before, grant me a little leeway here, Luke," Lorelai replies almost breathlessly, staring at him. She glances down at the tall glass of iced coffee in front of her, taking a seat as if needing to sit down before she faints.

"Did you start doing drugs, Luke?" Rory asks, eyeing him strangely. "Or maybe aliens came down to Stars Hollow during the night and your body was taken over by a pod person?"

"It's possible Luke just enjoys the Fourth of July," Lane theorizes, and both Gilmore girls immediately shake their heads no.

"Luke doesn't like holidays as a general rule."

"Luke also doesn't like being discussed like he's not even here," Luke interrupts. "And as a matter of fact, I do happen to like the Fourth of July. It's the one holiday were Taylor never stops by to bother me about decorating."

"Why not? There's patriotic decorations to be had. Red, white and blue bunting, a nice big flag...perhaps special American flag patterned napkins or a cardboard cutout of Uncle Sam you could prop up in the corner?"

"I've always wondered who exactly Uncle Sam is supposed to be," Lane says. "I mean, how did the concept of a tall, thin guy with white hair come to represent this country? And why would any person in their right mind join the army just because that guy says he wants you to? What kind of incentive is that?"

"Well...maybe if you are an young gay man who loves camoflauge and is attracted to older men with gray, uncontrollable hair who have patriotic fashion style and wear top hats, and doesn't mind the intense narrow mindedness and homophobia that typically is associated with our nation's military service, it *would* be incentive."

"Excellent point," Lane nods, smiling. Luke glares at Lorelai, who giggles.

"Even when he's in a supposed good mood, he can still glare like nobody else. Anyone ever tell you that you look sexy when you glare?"

"Actually they have," Luke retorts sarcastically. "They say I smolder with burning intensity."

"They do not," Lorelai laughs. "And smoldering with burning intensity? I believe you've missed your calling as a heated, passionate romance novelist."

"I knew there was a reason I felt so unfulfilled," Luke replies, smirking. Lorelai picks up her glass and takes a long sip, then closes her eyes and sighs.

"Luke, I think you should just ditch this whole restaurant thing and focus mainly on selling coffee as well as coffee inspired drinks. Give Starbucks a run for their money."

"And spread Satan's Syrup to even more unsuspecting souls? I think not."

"I thought Satan's Syrup was alcohol," Rory cuts in. "At least that's how they referred to it during the Temperance Movement and-"

"You know what I think?" Lorelai doesn't even hear Rory, too intent on pestering Luke. "I think that you're a secret coffee hound. You've probably got a can of Folger's stashed in your sock drawer, in your bathroom closet...in the glove compartment of your car...You're a true coffee-aholic. You're worse than Meg Ryan with her booze in that When a Man Loves a Woman movie."

"You're delusional."

"You're in denial. All this talk, all this blustering...you're covering up the sad, sad truth. You're worse than any of us."

"Could you two stop flirting for a few minutes so we can order some food?" Rory suddenly says, and both Lorelai and Luke look at her. She shrinks back slightly, trying not to smile. Lane is unable to stifle her own giggle, finding Rory's statement incredibly amusing and the looks on Lorelai and Luke's faces to be even more so. Lorelai stammers for a response.

"Well...of *course* you can order something," Lorelai states, smiling forcedly and not addressing Rory's flirting comment. "What do you guys want?"

"We'll have the usual, but can Lane and I have extra fries today? I'm in a fry mood."

"Sure thing. Lorelai?" Luke almost chokes on her name, not believing Rory has said that...out loud. Lorelai fidgets nervously for a moment, then hops up from her seat.

"I'll have that nifty turkey sandwich thingy you make, with the cheese?" Lorelai says.

"Sure thing," Luke replies, knowing what she means.

"We're gonna go...sit." Lorelai gestures to a table by the back where it's a little cooler, away from the bright sunlight streaming in through the front windows. Luke turns and heads to the kitchen and Lorelai follows Lane and Rory to their seats. "We were not flirting, Rory," Lorelai states strongly as she sits down, setting her purse on the table top. Rory just grins.

"You were too."

"I was not. That's just me and Luke. That's how we work. That's how we always act."

"I didn't mean that the flirting was just limited to this visit. You always flirt with Luke. Yesterday you even did the hair flip thing."

"I did not! Lorelai Gilmore, you're just making things up now," Lorelai exclaims defensively. "I do not *flirt* with *Luke*." Rory doesn't say anything, just shrugging and humming lightly to herself. It's clear she doesn't believe a word of what Lorelai is saying. Frustrated, Lorelai turns to Lane. "Lane, tell Rory that I do not flirt with Luke."

"But you do flirt with Luke."

"I hate you both. I think you're paying for your own lunches today."

"Perfectly all right," Rory just shrugs again, very laid-back. "I can pay for all my own food from this day forth but that's not going to change the fact that you and Luke flirt with each other like teenagers from Sweet Valley High."

"Oh, take that back! What an insult!" Lorelai cries out. "Sweet Valley High? Rory, you could've at least said 90210. That show at least had *some* credibility, even if Luke Perry was in it."

"90210 was a *really* good show," Lane says mock sincerity, doing her own interpretation of Winona Ryder's Melrose Place line from Reality Bites. Rory and Lorelai recognize her joke and both start laughing, momentarily forgetting their debate over Luke.

"What are you giggling about now?" Luke asks, pulling up a chair and turning it backwards. He sits down and looks at them. "You're tittering over here like chipmunks and scaring the other customers."

"It's what we do best," Lorelai replies, folding her hands and looking at him. She's about to say something else but bites it back, tossing a look at Rory.

"What are you doing tonight?" Rory inquires, realizing her mother is not about to say anything else. "Going to see the fireworks down at the beach?"

"No, I thought I'd stay here and watch the fireworks in New York City on television while I mop up the mess that the second grade baseball team makes in here every single year."

"Sounds like a rockin' good time," Lorelai snorts. "You should close the place down and go do something fun."

"Like come with us," Rory suggests. Lorelai gives her daughter a questioning look.

"Yeah, you should!" Lane chimes in. "We're going downtown to the city park. Sookie is coming and so is Dean. We can make it a whole big group event."

Luke glances at Lorelai, trying to read her expression. Ever since she had said no to Max, he couldn't decide how to act around her. Inside he was happy that she wasn't going to marry the guy, but he couldn't figure out if she was happy about it or not. He also couldn't figure out if this meant he was getting a second chance at telling her how he really felt, or if he was doomed to remain silent about his love for her for even longer.

"Uh...I don't know, kiddo," Luke mumbles, looking uncertainly at Rory. "I don't think I-"

"Oh, shut up. You should come," Lorelai finally says, slapping his shoulder. "Don't be silly. It'll be fun. And it will get you out of dealing with rambunctious seven year olds with bats. If they ever gave in to mob mentality and decided to gang up on you, you'd be in serious trouble. I think you should come with us for your own safety."

"My own safety, eh?" Luke repeats, looking skeptical.

"Yes, because I really don't feel like having to visit you in the hospital. I'm a busy woman and hospital visits would definitely cramp my schedule."

"Well, as long as I'm doing this for your convenience," Luke rolls his eyes, standing up.

"Is that a yes?" Rory inquires, not sure.

"I suppose I could go...I haven't celebrated the Fourth in a long time. I guess it could be fun."

"Good. We're leaving at seven o'clock. If you're not at our house by seven thirty, which is when we'll really be ready, I'm going to come over and beat you."

"You're very violent today."

"Too much of The Sopranos, coupled with the bitterness of not being able to buy this really great thingy last night on the shopping channel."

"I'm thankful you didn't buy it, whatever it was," Luke says.

"It was a door bell that played the I Dream of Jeannie theme song! How can you not love that?"

"I stopped her, thank me. I hid her credit cards."

"Smart girl," he nods in her direction in approval. "You can have a free dessert for that."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Luke replies and walks toward the kitchen. Rory smiles and claps her hands together in happiness.

"If only every day was a Taylor Doose-free day for Luke."

"Don't be so happy about it yet. Taylor might be able to sneak over here in between the parade he's organizing, the pageant he's directing and the reading of the Declaration of Independence in the town square. All of Luke's happiness will be crushed into a pile of dust."

"I'm surprised he agreed to come tonight. I figured he was going to say no," Lane voices, apparently still retaining a little of that surprise.

"Yeah, what was with the random invite, Rory?" Lorelai turns to her daughter, raising an eyebrow and eyeing her suspiciously.

"I just thought it'd be nice to have Luke come along, since he didn't have any plans. Why, don't you want him to come? Why wouldn't you want Luke to come?" Rory sounds almost accusatory, but she's really not all that concerned. She's just pressing her mother's buttons.

"I never said I didn't want Luke to come with us, Rory," Lorelai acts like Rory's questions are completely out of left field. "I don't care. In fact, hanging with Luke is a great idea, it'll be fun. It just seemed very unlike you to ask him to come, that's all. Out of the ordinary."

"It's not an ordinary day," Rory retorts simply, then twirls her straw happily through her tall glass of iced coffee, the ice cubes tinkling merrily against the glass. "I think tonight's gonna be really great. Things have been kind of off between Dean and I lately and I think this is exactly what we need."

"What do you mean, off?" Lane looks concerned and both Lorelai and she wait for Rory to explain.

"Not anything major," Rory says quickly. "It's just we haven't gotten a chance to spend much time together. He's always working or playing baseball or I'm busy...we just keep falling out of step with each other. The country club was the first time in a week that we'd seen each other."

"Well, you're both busy, active people. Maybe you should find something that the both of you could do. Hey...you could get a job at the market! You could bag groceries together, stock shelves...it'd be romance amongst the paper products. Passion in the produce section."

"How heavenly," Rory remarks sarcastically. "I think I'll pass though. Things are going to be okay, I think. Nothing to be worried about. I'm sure that after tonight things are going to be fine."

"Good to hear. And if they're not, I think that you should talk to Dean about how you're feeling. Or else you'll end up exploding at him and that's not a pretty picture," Lorelai says. "Or even worse, it could prompt you to wear that darling little apron again and cook him potatoes from a box."

"I'm so miffed that I missed that," Lane laughs and Rory blushes.

"I should've gotten pictures, I'm sorry," Lorelai apologizes to Lane. "Maybe Rory can dig out the costume again for Halloween this year."

"Enough teasing about the apron," Rory pleads. Luke approaches the table, balancing their three plates, saving Rory from any further embarrassment.

"Here you go," Luke sets each plate down carefully.

"Thanks," Lorelai tells him, smiling at him warmly. Luke is caught off guard by her beautiful smile, since he had been expecting a teasing greeting or sarcastic barb.

"No problem," he mumbles, tearing his eyes away from hers. Rory and Lane exchange looks. Luke turns his attention to them, trying not to act flustered. "Anything else I can get for you guys?"

"No, we're cool," Rory says, then refocuses her gaze to her mother as Luke walks away. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That look!"

"What look? Rory, did you hit your head on something hard this morning?" Lorelai asks.

"No, not this morning," Rory retorts. "Did you?"

"No, not that I recall."

"Glad we got that cleared up," Lane says, sensing that Lorelai was getting slightly irked. "This food looks fabulous. I am so starved. My mom made this terrible oatmeal this morning for breakfast and it tasted like wallpaper paste."

"You've eaten wallpaper paste before? Wow, you were an ambitious child. Rory just ate the Elmer's paste in kindergarten. I guess her tastes weren't as exotic as yours."

"Hey, Lorelai-"

"Have you ever eaten paste?"

"What?" Luke gives her a strange look.

"Have you ever eaten paste, like glue?"

"Knowingly?"

"How do you *unknowingly* eat paste?"

"I don't know, it's possible," Luke replies. "Why are we talking about this again?"

"I was drawing you into our conversation."

"Well, erase me because I have to leave."

"Pardon?"

"I have to go run across to the market really quick, we ran out of butter. I left Jim in charge-" Luke gestures toward the counter where his one extra employee, a tall, gangly man who looks bored out of his mind, is standing. "But can you kind of keep an eye on things and make sure he doesn't burn the place down?"

"I'll make sure he doesn't, but I make no guarantees that I won't," Lorelai grins mischievously, twiddling her fingers like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons.

"Rory?" Luke glances at her and she nods.

"Under control."

"I'll be right back."

"He's no fun," Lorelai pouts. "I'd never set this place on fire. Not on purpose, anyway."

*******

Lorelai pulls to a stop with a screeching halt and Rory thanks god that there were no cars directly behind her at that moment.

"There's a spot! Finally!" She cries out, putting on her right hand directional and slipping the Inn's travel van into reverse. With skill and ease she easily parallel parks into the relatively small space.

"Nice job," Luke comments, surprised she didn't hit anything.

"After years of motorcycles and sports car fetishism, you bet your ass I can drive like a pro," Lorelai remarks proudly and opens her car door only to have to shut it again instantly, almost getting it knocked off by a passing car.

"You were saying?"

"Hey, just because I lack the ability to check the road before I get out doesn't mean I'm a bad driver," Lorelai laughs, tugging the strap of her pale blue tank top back into place. "It means I'm a bad get-out-of-the-car-er. Person."

"You're truly a psychotic."

"Why thank you." She looks back at Sookie, Lane, Dean and Rory with excitement brimming in her eyes. "You guys ready for some crazy, crazy fun?"

"Of course!" Sookie exclaims, giggling. "But don't buy any of the fried dough here, it's awful. I made some for us all this afternoon and it's in the back with all of our picnic materials. I made cotton candy and taffy too, in really pretty colors."

"You have too much time on your hands," Luke mutters as he climbs from the passenger seat.

"No, I am dedicated to making the best food possible whenever I can. Preparing food is like an art form," Sookie replies. Lane glances at Rory, remembering their Diner Dude / Gourmet Guy conversation, but Rory wasn't even listening. Dean was helping her get down from the van and she was too wrapped up in him to notice.

"Food is food, Sookie. It either tastes good or it doesn't. It's that simple."

"No arguing about food tonight, you two!" Lorelai commands. "Make peace now or you're both going to sit in the van."

"Fine," Luke mumbles, opening up the car door and starting to get back in. Lorelai races over and pulls him back out.

"Stop being a dork!" She exclaims, pushing him onto the sidewalk. He grunts, fixing his gray t-shirt which Lorelai had managed to almost rip in the process of dragging him from the van.

After they're all out and the van is unloaded, the group stands on the sidewalk and surveys their options. "We got a good spot for being so late. The park is only a block away. Someone must have left." Everyone picks up an object and they start heading in the direction of the park, but Dean stops in his tracks as a sleek, sparkling, brand new silver Camaro with deeply tinted windows comes down the street from the opposite direction at a fast pace and turns into a private parking lot for the office building across the street.

"Wow, that is a *nice* car," he says, and Lorelai joins him in gaping.

"Get me one of those babies," Lorelai remarks, adjusting her grip on the cooler she's holding. They both stare for a moment longer, then turn to go. "Oh well...maybe after I win the lottery."

"If you win the lottery you're going to buy me one too, hon," Sookie jokes, nudging her with the tray of baked goods she had brought along with her.

"Sookie, you do realize that there's only six of us, right? You're not feeding an army," Luke tells her, surveying the array of goods she had unloaded from the van. Sookie merely shrugs him off and heads off toward the park.

Rory is about to follow everyone else down the sidewalk when she sees the driver of the car emerge, along with the passenger. It was Tristan. And that blonde bombshell from the country club. Clutching the picnic blanket closer to her, she turns away quickly, not wanting Tristan to see her, and hurries to catch up with Dean. She slips her hand into his and smiles at him, trying to ignore the way she's feeling inside. Lane notices Rory struggling to keep a smile on her face and moves close to her.

"What's the matter?" Lane whispers.

"That car was Tristan's," Rory whispers back through clenched teeth, not needing to say anything more. Lane gets the point all too well.

*******

"Rory, what are you doing?" Lorelai pulls her daughter aside as Rory glances over her shoulder for about the fiftieth time in the past five minutes. "Excuse us for a moment," she mutters to Dean and Lane, leading Rory a safe distance away from her friends. "Is there a psycho killer after you that I don’t know about? You’re acting like you’re auditioning for the next installment of Scream."

"They stopped making those."

"That’s what they always say, until suddenly there’s another one playing at the multiplex. I think they’re trying to go for that whole sneaking up behind you and surprising you tactic that so often is shown in horror movies, but it’s really just plain old annoying. Like, 'Surprise, there's another Scream movie out! Bet you didn't see that coming!' And Neve Campbell is running around screaming again from that guy in the mask, but somehow she always survives. Why is that? It’d be nice to see a horror movie where everyone dies in the end. And I mean everyone, everyone."

"How very morbid of you."

"I like to think of it as an ingenious idea, a unique one. I think it’d be refreshing."

"Refreshingly morbid."

"Well, that doesn’t matter because we weren’t talking about me, we were talking about you. And your newly developed paranoia. Have you been reading Stephen King books late at night again?"

"No, but something far more horrific is lurking around here."

"Worse than Cujo?"

"By far."

"Not worse than It."

"It is nothing compared to this."

"Come on, It was damn scary."

"This is scarier."

"This being-?" Lorelai leads and Rory sighs resignedly.

"Tristan is here somewhere tonight, I saw him getting out of his car earlier."

"Oo, it was the really nice Camaro, wasn’t it?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I figured as much when I noticed you hanging back and staring at it lingeringly. Seeing as how I’m the one with the jones for all fast things automotive, I guessed something else was up. So, are you expecting him to launch an ambush or something?" Lorelai makes her fingers into a gun and makes like James Bond. "I’ll be on red alert."

"No-I just-whenever he and Dean get in the same area, Dean always gets so tense and things just don’t go well. And I want tonight to be perfect and fun. Perfectly fun."

"Well, perfectly fun it shall be. Though it could end up being funnily perfect, in which case I’ll have to make some quick fixits and get those adjectives to make a switcheroo."

"I’ll settle for funnily perfect. I just don’t want, you know-"

"Horribly terrible?"

"Precisely."

"Well, I’ll go on watch, make a quick circle of the perimeter. See if anything is amiss," She glances back toward the group sitting on the large blanket. Sookie is unpacking all of the food and meticulously arranging it on the empty space in front of them and Luke looks like he’s about to burst. "And I’ll take Luke with me for extra protection."

"Yeah, good idea. It looks like his head is about to explode."

"Okay. You go back and sit with Dean and Lane, and don’t worry your pretty little head about Tristan. I’m sure he won’t bother you when he sees you’re with Dean. He probably is here with other people anyway, right?"

"Yeah, some Barbie impersonator."

"She says with venom," Lorelai states, looking surprised. "What'd Barbie ever do to you? I know you were never a big fan of the color pink, but just because you don't like her fashion sense doesn't mean you have to hate the poor girl."

"You do realize of course that-"

"Yes, I realize Barbie's not real, and no, you're not going to manage to outwit this conversation and distract me further by arguing over the merits of the Barbie doll. I'm onto you. Now back to the point. Why are we sneering at Tristan's companion? Do we know her?"

"No, we don't know her."

"So we're sneering at her because we don't know her then."

"No, we're sneering at her because she the typical Tristan girl. Just when he manages to slightly improve my opinion of him, he shows his true colors. He hasn't changed a bit, all this time I've been slowly re-evaluating the way I viewed him and it was a pointless waste of time."

"It was a waste of time because he brought a date with him to see some fireworks? Honey, no offense, but you’re being just a tad judgmental."

"I am not. I’m being realistic."

"I think you’re just using this as an excuse to not be friends with him," Lorelai says.

"What?"

"Face it, Rory. You get along with him and enjoy his company but you don’t want to admit it. I understand. I realize that being friends with Tristan is a lot harder than keeping the relationship you had last year. If you’re enemies, you don’t have to worry about Paris and you don’t have to worry about upsetting Dean. It’s clear that it’s easier for you to dislike him."

"That’s not why I don’t think we should be friends," Rory replies, her voice wavering. "I’m not just taking the easy way out."

"Okay," Lorelai puts up her hands and takes a step back. "You want me to accidentally stick a whole bunch of cotton candy in his date’s hair if I see them, then?"

"Mom-"

"What? I can make it look like a perfectly innocent accident. She won’t suspect I did it on purpose!"

"That’s okay, Mom. I don’t think a secret attack is really necessary."

"All right. But I’m still going to do a surveillance sweep and locate their whereabouts," Lorelai responds, heading over to Luke and pulling on his arm. He stands up, rolling his eyes at her impatient tugging.

"What’s the matter?"

"You and me are going for a walk right now. Don’t ask any questions, just keep an eye out for Tristan DuGrey," she whispers so Dean won’t hear. Luke eyes Lorelai suspiciously as she leads him away.

"And why are we doing this?"

"Were you not listening when I said don’t ask any questions?" Lorelai exclaims. "Come on."

"I think this is a prime example of the one who follows the fool being more foolish," Luke mutters to Rory as he passes her, Lorelai already off to a head start. She turns around when she gets too far ahead of him.

"Come on, you slowpoke," She comes back and retrieves Luke, who grunts and reluctantly falls into step beside her. Lane stands up and walks to Rory, who still hasn’t returned to her place beside Dean on the blanket.

"Why is your Mom forcibly dragging Luke away?"

"She finally woke up and realized she must have him. They’re going some place private so she can have her way with him," Rory jokes and Lane snorts.

"Think not. What are they really doing?"

"Making sure Tristan is nowhere nearby."

"You’re so lucky your Mom is crazy enough to actually do that for you."

"Yeah, I am," Rory smiles lightly.

"Hey, you two gossiping girlies! If you two don’t stop talking and get your cute little butts over here, Dean and I are going to take all the food for ourselves," Sookie calls to Rory and Lane, beckoning them to come back. The two girls laugh and head back over.

"I think it would take more than just you two to make all of this disappear," Rory shakes her head as she glances over the vast display of food that Sookie has created. "You’d think we were having a buffet, not a picnic."

"It’s a picnic buffet," Sookie replies. "It can be both." Rory sits down next to Dean and he smiles at her, wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek.

"What were you and your mom talking about?"

"Nothing," Rory replies. "You want some potato salad? Sookie makes the best potato salad in the world." She picks up the bowl and offers it to him, taking the spoon and getting ready to dish some onto his plate.

"No thanks. Not a fan of potato salad."

"Egg salad? Tuna salad? We got it all," Rory continues. "You can have any kind of salad you’d like, I believe."

"What about-shrimp salad?" Dean asks, purposefully trying to think of a salad that Sookie didn’t make. Rory looks for it, and doesn’t find it.

"Okay-no shrimp salad. But any other kind of salad you want, we got it-"

"Shrimp salad?" Sookie lunges for the cooler. "We’ve got shrimp salad. I’m keeping it on ice cause I really hate warm shrimp. Just terrible." She takes out the container and hands it to Dean.

"This is crazy," Dean sighs, opening up the Tupperware bowl.

"You should be grateful," Rory remarks, putting a scoop of strawberry Jell-o onto her paper plate. "If we didn’t have Sookie to go overboard, my mom might’ve been tempted to cook something."

"Not pretty," Lane explains. "The last time Lorelai tried to cook, she tried to make pancakes but forgot the flour."

"They made really good Frisbees."

" I bet," Dean chuckles, imagining Rory and Lorelai tossing them around the kitchen, because he knew that Rory was not kidding about the Frisbees.

"Who wants chicken?" Sookie inquires, holding up a plate with a grin.

*******

"So, who are we looking for again?"

"We’re not really ‘looking’ for him, we’re locating him. We just want to know where he is."

"Okay, just locating. Who are we locating?"

"Tristan."

"Who?"

"The blonde kid who came into the diner a few months ago? I’d be guessing you threatened to beat him up?"

"Ah. I hate that kid."

"Of course you do."

"So why are we finding him?"

"We don’t want him to bother Rory tonight. Dean and Tristan don’t get along and she doesn’t want her evening ruined."

"They don’t get along because Tristan likes Rory."

"My, you’re perceptive."

"You’re caustic tonight."

"I didn’t mean it sarcastically. It’s just that usually you’re not that perceptive."

"When am I not perceptive? If any one here is unperceptive, I think it’d be you," Luke retorts. Lorelai stops in her tracks, gaping at him.

"Me? Unperceptive? Luke, I am the Queen of Perceptive. You have no idea what you’re even talking about."

"Yes I do. You and Rory are exactly the same."

"In many ways we are, yes. We both have great hair and too much wit for our own good. But perception is something that we differ on. While she does not grasp the concept that dear Tristan loves everything about her, I, on the other hand, do."

"That's not what I meant, which just proves my point entirely."

"So what did you mean?" Lorelai inquires, setting her hands on his shoulders to stop him from walking away, which he is trying to do. "If I'm so blind, what is it that I'm not seeing? Does Tristan have like an Oedipus Complex and really likes me or something? If that's the case, then please keep it to yourself, because I have no desire to play Ms. Jacobs."

"Who?"

"Ms. Jacobs...you know, the teacher...with Pacey...on Dawson's Creek..." Luke's face is blank. "Okay, this is going over your head. I don't want to be Mrs. Robinson."

"That I understand. But I don't think you have to worry about that, because that's not at all what I was getting at. And the fact that your mind immediately leaped to that conclusion is slightly disturbing."

"I'm a disturbing woman. I have a PhD in freaking people out."

"I believe that," Luke grunts and starts to walk away. Lorelai pauses for a moment and then hurries after him.

"You didn't answer the question. What am I not noticing? If you're going to bait me, you shouldn't get all weirded out when I bite."

"Perhaps I realized that I didn't want to be fishing after all."

"So what, you're throwing me back in the water? I think not. This fish has swallowed the hook, I wasn't merely tugging on the line. Now spill. What do you know that I don't?"

"What do I know that you don't? I could fill an entire book with that information."

"Quit the funny, mister. I want some details and I want them now. Is it about Rory and Tristan?"

"No, it's not," Luke looks away, wishing he hadn't opened his mouth. What had he been thinking? He immediately starts searching his brain for anything that he could possibly tell Lorelai that wouldn't seem like a load of crap.

"Who's it about, then?"

"You."

"Me?" Lorelai says in disbelief. "What do you know about me that *I* don't know about me? You're not going to tell me that I was adopted as a child, are you? Cause that would explain *so* much. It'd probably cut years of therapy down. Though I think then I'd have some abandonment issues, so maybe in the end it'd all even out, you know? It seems either way, there's a definite old guy in glasses and a big flat couch waiting for me in the future. I'll probably even have to-"

Lorelai's words are stopped suddenly as Luke presses his lips to hers in an impulsive kiss. Lorelai's body tenses immediately, taken completely off guard by the feeling of Luke's mouth against hers, the strange tingling surging all the way down her spine. He pulls away abruptly, leaving Lorelai breathless and stunned. She stares at him, wide-eyed.

"Um..." Is all she can manage, at a loss for words. Luke stares back at her, not believing he had just done something so undeniably stupid. He didn't know what had come over her, but as she stood there babbling, the impulse had just come over him in a wave and he couldn't stop himself. From the look on her face, kissing Lorelai had not been a wise move. She still hadn't uttered a single coherent word.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Luke stutters, feeling the stupidest he'd ever felt in his entire life. "I shouldn't have...I mean...I didn't mean to...god...Lorelai, please say something."

"I...you know, I have a job that I'm supposed to be doing. That I'm not...doing. So I better go do it. You know...cause Rory will be mad if I don't." Lorelai takes a step back from Luke, running her hands through her hair nervously.

"That's all you're going to say?" Luke asks, hurt. "Lorelai, I just kissed you and..."

"Well, okay...yeah. So...I know you kissed me. I acknowledge that, it's acknowledged. Still processing it...but I am aware of some sort of lip lock taking place. But I'm going to have to deal with that later...you know, put it on the back burner for awhile. I'm on a mission here. I mean, the whole reason we went for this little walk was to find Tristan and make sure he, you know...well, I don't know what exactly we were supposed to do but whatever we ended up doing was gonna make Rory feel better! And that's what I should be doing, cause, I'm her mother. And that's what mothers do. Unless you're my mother. You're not my mother." Luke looks at her, puzzled. "I mean, *I'm* not my mother. Because obviously you're not my mother. That's even more obvious than the fact that I'm not my mother."

"I think we have it established that neither one of us is your mother."

"Yes, that we have. It was good to clear that up." Lorelai pauses, clearly fumbling for something to say. She glances around, then gestures off in a random direction. "I should be looking for Tristan right now. So...kiss later. Well, not kiss later...more like talk about the kiss later. If that's what it was. You did kiss me right?"

"Yes, I did."

"I thought so. For a second I thought maybe...it was in my head or something...but no. But...you know what..."

"You have to go."

"Right," Lorelai says. "I'm going to go."

"Okay."

"Okay." She nods and turns to go. Luke stares at her for a moment, the sight of her walking away cutting him right to the core.

"Lorelai..." Luke starts, then stops when Lorelai turns around and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights. "I..." She seems like she's bracing herself for something terrible. "Nevermind." Luke waves her off. "I'll see you later." Then he turns around and walks away, not even looking back at her once.

"Luke..." Lorelai calls after him, her voice cracking. He doesn't hear her. The look on his face had instantly smashed her heart into pieces. She is hurting him. She had hurt him. And now he's walking away. I'm staring at his back as he's getting farther away from me and I'm not saying anything. Why am I not saying anything? Idiot, say something! Lorelai demands of herself, but her voice simply isn't working. She didn't know what to say.

Lorelai looks away, about ready to burst into tears, and by the time she looks back in the direction Luke had gone, he has disappeared into the crowd.

*******

"Where are you going?" Lane asks as Rory stands up, brushing a potato chip crumb that had somehow landed on her pant leg without her noticing.

"I'm going to find the rest rooms," she explains.

"You're going to use those gross Port-o-Potties that they have here? Rory...yuck."

"No, silly. They have public rest rooms around here that are in an actual building. Somewhere. Which is why I'm going to go find them."

"Oh. Well, good. Make sure to note their exact location for reference."

"Will do. I'll be back in a few minutes," Rory leans down and kisses Dean quickly before heading off across the park, weaving her way through the mess of blankets, strollers, lawn chairs, and various other objects until she hits the sidewalk that runs through the park. "Okay...where are you, bathrooms..." Rory says to herself under her breath, standing on tip-toe for a moment in hopes of spotting the building. She knows that it's brick and really boring looking, off to the side... "Ah ha." Locating it after a short search, Rory heads toward it with a sigh of relief. The line was really long, but at least it wasn't a Port-o-Potty.

"I hate waiting." Rory turns toward the stranger in line who is apparently speaking to her. She recognizes her immediately as the girl Tristan was with at the club, the one who was getting out of his car earlier that evening. Of all the strange, awful luck... "Sometimes I wish I could just dash into the men's room. Their lines are always so short, it hardly seems fair."

"No, I guess it doesn't," Rory replies, with a half-shrug, biting her lip. She turns back to face the front, not wanting to continue the conversation. Thankfully the girl doesn't say anything else and Rory manages to make it back outside without having to withstand any more chit chat.

She looks down to check her watch, and not looking where she is going, walks right into someone. She hits them quite hard, and the impact sends her ricocheting backward. The person grabs her arm and stops her from falling.

"Thanks," Rory murmurs, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry about that, I wasn't-" She looks up and groans mid-sentence. "Tristan. Hi."

"Hi, Rory," he mumbles back. Rory is confused that he doesn't exactly look happy to see her either. Usually he greeted her with a smirk of delight and a taunting comment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah...fine. You?"

"Fine," Tristan replies. He gazes at her for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well it was nice bumping into you, literally, but I have to go." He makes a move to walk past her. Rory screws up her brow quizically, not sure how to process Tristan's aloof behavior.

"Tristan, did you run into my mom already?" Rory asks, her mind already running through the myriad of possibilities that could have occurred if her mother had indeed talked to him. Tristan just looks confused.

"Your mom? No, I didn't even know she was here."

"Oh. Okay. I was just checking."

"Why, are you looking for her? Did you guys lose each other or something?"

"Not exactly," Rory shrugs.

"Oh. Well..." Tristan makes a move to leave again, but something compells Rory to stop him. "Are things okay, Tristan?"

"Okay? Yeah, sure, they're fine. Why wouldn't they be?"

"I don't know. You don't seem like things are okay."

"Well, things are just perfect," Tristan replies, his tone slightly bitter.

"If you say so," Rory mumbles in response, sensing that if she presses the issue any further he's going to go off on her. "So, I ran into your girlfriend in the bathroom."

"She's not my girlfriend. And how do you know that I'm here with Anna?"

"I saw you two before. She's not your girlfriend?"

"No," Tristan shakes his head. "I can barely stand her, honestly," Tristan looks down, shuffling his feet. Rory is surprised.

"If you don't like her, why are you hanging with her?"

"My parents want me to. She likes me. There was nothing else to do."

"Good reasons," Rory says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"We can't all be with the person of our dreams," Tristan remarks coldly, finally looking straight at her. "Just because you don't have to settle for less doesn't mean that other people don't have to."

"Tristan, that hardly seems like the best-"

"There you are! I thought you were going to buy something to drink, sweetie," Anna appears next to Tristan, turning him to her and laying a long kiss on his lips. Rory looks away, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

"I didn't get a chance to," Tristan explains. Anna notices Rory standing there and smiles at her.

"Hey, I was behind you in line," Anna exclaims with a large smile. "Isn't the lighting in those bathrooms just terrible? I hate fluorescent lights, they make me look so washed out. It's impossible to fix your m