I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY SORRY! I'm horrible; I know! I should have updated sooner, but I thought that I would be able to include Friday Night dinner in this chapter, but apparently, that is not the case. I promise on a candy bar that I will update sooner, and please keep reading!
SydneyMorgan: It's no fun to have people guess when they get it right! Aww shoot! JK, you got the reason behind Logan's depression…I think! I don't plan on having Rochelle and Chris fight about the whole moving thing until Friday night dinner at the Gilmores'. I think that is when all heck will be unleashed!
CoCaCoLa29: Sorry about the whole "No-interaction" thing between Rory and Lorelai! I know for sure that the next chapter will be very dramatic. Rory and Logan discover what their relationship is missing, Paris and Tristan return home, Chris and Rochelle face the living situation and much more!
Disclaimer: No, even after over a month- I still don't own Gilmore Girls! It's not my fault; they won't sell it to me for a penny. Stupid CW…
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Paris Gellar was a little nervous. Scratch that, she was very nervous. She and Tristan had made their way through New York continuously glancing at each other. They had managed to talk business the entire time, but now, they were going out for dinner… together…alone.
'This is ridiculous! I don't get nervous over guys. That's Steph's job.' Paris thought as an idea hit her-call Stephanie.
She picked up the house phone and started to dial. When Tristan first told her that they would be staying at his house, she had stared wide-eyed at him for what seemed like an hour. There was no way she was staying at his home overnight. 'What if one of his many flavors came over,' she had thought bitterly. However, when they arrived at the building Paris was shocked. It was a beautiful white mansion on the Northeast coast of Staten Island.
She had scoffed at that point. It figured he would buy a house in the most Conservative borough of New York.
The house had beautiful white marble columns running down the back, and it was surrounded by the most gorgeous landscape. Clean cut gardens with blooming flowers surrounded the property, and about a quarter of a mile west was the Upper Bay.
After four rings, Stephanie picked up the phone out of breath.
"Whoever this is better have a damn good excuse for getting me out of my shower!" She yelled angrily. Did people not understand how long it takes a girl to get ready for a party?
Paris hesitated before speaking. "Steph?" She asked quietly. "I need your help."
Stephanie was surprised. It was the first time in her life she had ever heard Paris sound anxious. "Par, what is it?"
"I…don't you dare laugh! I need something to wear to dinner with Tristan," she mumbled self-consciously.
Stephanie shook her head and smiled. Her little stepsister was growing up. As much as it killed her, she didn't make any remarks. She knew how rarely Paris dated. Well, actually, Paris had never dated.
"Light blue jeans with your black jacket and a cute white tank," said Stephanie in an excited voice. "Oh, and make sure to put on some make-up. I'd go with red lipstick and some blush. Ooh ooh, and don't forget jewelry, something classy but cute."
Paris tried to hide a small smile from gracing her features even though she knew her stepsister couldn't see her. "Thanks Steph. I'll see you later."
Stephanie gave a tiny 'okay' before announcing something that had been whirling around in her head since the mall incident. "Par? You…you deserve him. Good luck." With that she hung up the phone and continued getting dressed.
Paris heard the dial tone and settled the phone in its cradle. She walked into her closet with a minute grin on her face before closing the door to get dressed.
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Tristan had been waiting for less than a minute when he heard Paris's door close. 'Right on time,' he thought with a laugh. He had figured Paris wasn't the type to be late. He looked towards the stairs and saw her walking down carefully with her purse in one hand and her notebook in the other. Tristan gave her a puzzled look when the blonde reached him.
"I'm sorry; do you have an interview scheduled between courses or something?" He questioned confusedly.
Paris noticed him staring at her right hand and sighed.
"I thought you'd like to see my article on your company." She handed him the notebook and watched as he read it. She rolled her eyes when she saw his self-satisfied look.
"So, I take it that you like the article?" She questioned in a sarcastic manner. Tristan was about to respond, but he stopped suddenly when he saw Paris. He had been so focused on what she was carrying that he hadn't noticed how beautiful she looked. She sported casual attire, but she still looked breathtaking to him. Realizing he hadn't said anything, he spoke nervously.
"Umm…yeah, the article is great," and it was. She had explained that she was on the staff of the Yale Daily News, but she hadn't told him how incredible of a writer she was. Tristan smiled at her modesty and his confidence came back in a flash.
"It really is amazing, and by the way, you look gorgeous," he supplied as he led her towards the limo.
Paris groaned and hit him on the arm.
"What do you want DuGrey?"
Tristan grinned wickedly before whispering into her ear. "Wrong question Paris. It isn't what; it's who."
Paris looked shocked as Tristan held her door open for her and ushered her into the car.
"Don't look so shocked Gellar. You're a very attractive woman," he said with a wink.
They didn't speak for the rest of the ride, but Tristan made sure to hold Paris's hand the entire time. He had something great planned for tonight, and he was excited to see his plan take action.
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When they arrived at Tristan's final destination, Paris was stunned. She was standing only a few feet from the entrance of the Met.
The couple had feasted on a picnic and talked all night. When it got to about 11:00 P.M., Paris had fallen asleep in Tristan's embrace. Neither of them could believe that they had grown so close in such a short amount of time. They were making their way home when Tristan got the idea to take Paris somewhere extra special.
Tristan grinned broadly as he saw his date's look of awe. He knew she would enjoy a private tour through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and he was hoping to add a precious memory to her obviously small collection. He knew what it was like to live in high society; there were very few moments of pure joy.
Paris turned towards Tristan who was still staring at her and gave him a questioning look. He simply knocked on one of the doors and waited for a security guard. Soon, he was ushering her through various hallways decorated with the works of Rousseau, Matisse, Gauguin, and Renoir. Both made witty comments and posed questions about the paintings, and at times they bickered over the deeper meanings of certain works of art. At around 2:00 A.M, they decided to start heading back to Todt Hill. Paris could pack the next morning, and Tristan would take her to the top school supplies store in New York to make up for the fact that she had to miss the stationary sale at her favorite shop in Hartford.
In reaching the house, only one of the two was tired. Tristan was used to staying up nights because of his business, and so he led Paris to her bedroom door and bid her goodnight with a sweet peck on the lips. He walked downstairs with a sigh and began to sort through his paperwork from his precious business.
About an hour later, he was still working, and Paris had yet to fall asleep. She tiptoed down to his office and smiled sadly when she saw his worn face.
"Tristan?" She whispered quietly.
The blonde male's head snapped up and he yawned loudly. Paris rolled her eyes and forced him up.
"You're going to bed. Case closed, and don't you dare pull any of that negotiator crap on me."
Tristan laughed softly before wrapping his arm around Paris's waist and speaking. "Sorry babe, it's in my blood."
He stopped at his bedroom door and turned towards Paris. Tristan noticed that she looked a bit scared, and he tried to calm her down.
"Relax, you don't have to come in with me if you don't want to."
Paris's face changed from scared to embarrassed as she looked down.
"I'm sorry it's just-," she tried, but Tristan cut her off with a kiss.
"Don't ever be sorry, okay?" Paris nodded and held Tristan's hand for a few moments before pulling back and walking towards her room.
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It was a bit past 4:00 A.M when Tristan's sleep was interrupted by a terrible ringing noise. He grabbed the incessant contraption and answered groggily.
"Hello?"
"Tristan? This is Logan. We need to talk."
Tristan's sleepy state and his feelings towards Logan got the best of him. He hung up (more like 'slammed down' actually) the phone and went back to sleep.
Logan groaned when he heard the dial tone.
"Are you kidding me with this shit? " He muttered tiredly as he kept one eye on the road and one eye on Rory. They were nearing her house; he would call Tristan back after he dropped her off. This was getting resolved today, whether Tristan liked it or not.
With that thought, Logan pulled up Rory's driveway and tried to shake her awake.
"Go away bunny, go away. I don't even like carrots," she mumbled incoherently.
Logan chuckled and pushed his door open. He should have known better than to try and wake her up without coffee or dynamite. He made his way over to her door, opened it, and carried her out steadily. Rochelle answered the door in an oversized shirt and boy shorts, and she smiled faintly when she saw Logan carrying her baby.
She motioned for him to follow her up to Rory's room, and once he set her down upon her bed, Rochelle called him to the kitchen downstairs.
Logan did as told and went into the kitchen where he found Rochelle sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in her hands. He poured himself a cup and sat down next to her, and she spoke in a quiet voice.
"How bad was it?" She questioned knowingly.
Logan decided to play dumb, hoping that she would leave him alone.
"How bad was what?"
Rochelle scoffed at the blonde and sent him a look of resolve.
"You know what. How bad was the argument between Bleu and Tristan? Are they still fighting?"
Logan sighed, but he knew he had no choice. He told Rochelle the whole story, and she remained quiet until he was done speaking. When he finished, she looked at him questioningly.
"So, I know why Bleu is upset and why Tristan is upset, but what is bothering you so much? Oh, and don't give me that 'nothing' merde. I have raised Bleu and Tristan long enough to know when a child is upset."
"It's just that…never mind. It's ridiculous. I'm being absolutely ridiculous." Logan tried to convince himself unsuccessfully.
Rochelle smiled sympathetically and stood.
"When Tristan gets home, I will personally have a talk with him. Until then, you sleep."
Logan looked a bit uncomfortable, and Rochelle laughed.
"Don't worry. Tristan isn't here, and Chris doesn't drink too much coffee before noon. Your pants are safe for tonight." With that, Rochelle dumped her mug in the sink and made her way to her and Chris's room.
Logan sat staring silently into space before he decided to take her advice. He would call Tristan tomorrow.
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Just a little filler! I wanted everyone to get a feel for the Paris-Tristan relationship. Oh, there's a picture of Paris in her outfit on my profile page link. I found a really cute picture of Liza Weil (the girl who plays Paris). Also, I have a new story I'm working on that I really want to get out within the next few days. Oh, and for all you New Yorkers, I've never been. The reason why this chapter took me so long was that I wanted it to be realistic. I did research on Staen Island, and I set the timeline to make as much sense as it could. Anywho, review please!