Date:12/26/01 7:47:26 PM Eastern Standard Time
From:miss_wales@hotmail.com

Author's note: I just started this story today. I thought that, with it 
being Christmas Break and all, that I would get quite a bit written. However 
that is not the case. So, like my last story, I'll probably get out only one 
chapter a week, probably on either a Friday or Saturday night.

For those of you who were expecting me to write a Rory/Dean story. I'm sorry 
to disappoint you. I tried, I really did, but I found that I feel like I can 
better write about people getting together, rather than keeping them 
together. Once again, I'm sorry for any disappointment.

Now, onto the real fun....


Title: Into the Night
Author: Meghan (miss_wales@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13 to R
Spoilers: Season One; it’s now their junior year, but nothing of Season Two 
has happened.
Pairing: R/T
Starring: Rory and Tristan
Guest Starring: Lorelai and Paris
Special Appearances By: Luke and Coffee
Summary: Rory has a bad day that may take a turn for the worst. How will she 
recover?
Disclaimer: Damn, foiled again. All right I did it, me me me. I stole the 
characters. But I am making no money. I was just playing with them. Their 
are my marionettes. They do nothing without me knowing, so there has been no 
illegal activity on their part. No officer, he was born that way. Yes I 
agree it should be illegal to be that good looking. I promise I’ll return 
them, I was just borrowing them for the time being.
Warning: An abundance of sexual tension.
Feedback: It makes my ordinary day a holly jolly Christmas. Please send it.



Into the Night
by Meghan


    Rory slammed the door to her locker closed with a resounding bang that 
echoed down the crowded hall way. Paris gave her a looked of contempt as she 
stalked out of the building. Rory shoved her way past the students 
meandering out of the school before her. She had a horrible day and was 
dieing to get home as fast as possible.

Rory practically ran the rest of the way to the bus stop. She flung herself 
into her seat and leaned against the back, her body slouched in defeat. Her 
back fell off the bench and into a muddy puddle. Dirty water began to seep 
into her books and papers. Rory let out a cry of
frustration as she grabbed the bag from the puddle. She shook it furiously 
to rid it of the excess water. Suddenly her book flung out of the open front 
pocket and land, pages down, in the puddle.

Rory screamed out in anger at her own horrible luck. She stared down at her 
ruined book. The brown water crawled up the once pristine white pages. Warm, 
salty, tears began to run slowly down Rory’s slightly red cheeks. She 
sniffled when she realized her book was ruined. There would be no more 
insight into the mind of Oscar Wilde today, and no more
in the future, at least no more until she could buy a new copy. That 
wouldn’t happen anytime soon, she was broke.

Rory left the book in the puddle, not caring anymore, as she saw the bus 
approach. She waited at the curb her head reviewing her own sorrows. Rory 
failed to notice the large puddle in the road before her. As the bus pulled 
up the tires sent water splashing onto her legs, and spattering her clean 
plaid skirt. Rory closed her eyes in annoyance, couldn’t anything turn out 
for the better today. The driver muttered an apology as she climbed on the 
bus. Rory plastered a fake smile on her face and seemed to wave off the 
accident. In all truth she was steaming mad. She plodded her way to the very 
back of the bus, once again
slouching into the seat.

She stared out the window, silent tears creeping down her cheeks. Every now 
and then she would furiously try to wipe them away, but they always 
returned. Each time she thought they were gone, new tears would spring anew 
when she recalled her day.

The past hours of her life had been the worst she ever had. First she had 
woken up later than normal, which caused her to be late for school. She 
thought she had slide into class without the teacher noticing, but to no 
avail. Ms. Marx seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. She gave Rory a 
five page essay on Einstein’s theory of relativity that was due on Monday.

In another class she didn’t have her homework, this was a result from her 
hurried rush to get to Chilton Hell on time. She recalled seeing the papers 
sitting on the kitchen table where she had left them the night before. Her 
careless mistake resulted in her grade being
allowed no higher than an 80.

Then in another class she had forgotten all about a test. When the exam 
landed on her desk Rory all but screamed. How could she forget a test? That 
was so unlike her. She took the exam, drilling every bit of economics she 
could remember out of her mind and onto her paper. Rory had turn in the test 
after everyone else, she was sure she had failed.
The feeling of unpreparedness was so new for her.

Rory hoped to find some solitude from her pain during lunch. All she wanted 
to do was eat her salad, drink her coffee, and read in peace. Alas that was 
not to be as well. On her walk to her table someone had tripped her. Her 
tray went flying. Her coffee flew one way, land on the floor in a sickening 
thud, the pure caffeinated delight spreading rapidly across the floor. Her 
salad had flown another way. She turned just as a seething Paris stood up, 
bits of lettuce and carrot dangling from her hair and clothing. Rory had 
mumbled a quick apology to Paris before dashing out the cafeteria. As the 
doors closed behind her she
heard applause erupt from the student body, the sort of applause that was 
only given to the biggest klutzes.

She tried to seek sanctuary in the library, but was kicked out because of 
teacher’s meeting. Rory ended up sitting outside her next class, waiting for 
it to begin. She stood by the door as the bell announced the new period. 
Rory hid her face as a few students passed her. She
could hear their snickers about her as they walked. As her dull luck would 
have it this class went no better than her other three.

Rory was ready to bang her head on the desk when the teacher announced that 
it was time for the mid-year group project. Her head did make contact with 
hard wood desk when she found out that her partner was none other than her 
mortal enemy Tristan DuGrey. It was like fate was laughing her in the face. 
When their names were announced Tristan turned
around to face Rory, his eyes made contact with hers and he winked. Rory 
grimaced in return.

After class Tristan tried to corner her before the next period, but she 
avoid him with skill. Or so she thought. She made it through her next three 
classes unscathed, but when school ended she found Tristan stationed at her 
locker. He was leaning casually against it, a smirk
upon his lips.

“Mary.” He looked her over. “You’re looking rather delightfully today.”

“Not today Tristan.” Rory shoved him away from her locker, he staggered back 
a few feet before regaining his balance. He sauntered the few feet back to 
her.

“What was that?” He brought his head in closer to hers, his lips almost in 
her ear.

“I said not today. I am in no mood to verbally kick your ass right now. I 
don’t have the mental capacity to separate right from wrong today, and my 
depleted conscience will not keep me from punching you in the face right 
now. So I suggest, for your own safety, that you back away from me before I 
send my locker door flying into your face, and busting
that pretty boy nose of yours.”

Tristan looked at her in shock. That had always fought with each other, but 
never had her comments contained such passionate anger. Tristan held up his 
hands in defeat as he backed away.

“Have it your way Mary, you’re going to have to talk to me later. That 
current events project won’t get done on its own.”

“I know that Tristan, just don’t talk to me today. I’m seriously homicidal 
at the moment, and the picture of your mutilated carcass hanging from power 
line is all to tempting at the moment.” Rory then jammed the last of her 
things into her back before slamming her locker door shut. The look of sheer 
fear on Tristan’s face was real. He gave her one last forced smirk before 
turning on his heal and walking quickly down the hall.

A large tear traced its way down Rory’s cheek as she recalled that moment. 
She hadn’t meant what she said, ok, well at that moment she had, but now, 
she felt nothing but regret. She would have to apologize to him come Monday. 
Even a jerk like Tristan didn’t deserve what she had said to him.

At her stop she flung her bag over her shoulder and exited the bus. The walk 
home was cold and lonely. The chilly autumn wind whipped at clothes and 
stung her face. The dry fallen leaves crunched under her feet as she made 
her way home. She struggled to climb the porch. All she wanted to do was 
collapse into sleep and never wake up again.
Rory unlocked the front door. She grabbed the mail out of the box before 
opening the door. Once inside she flung the mail on the table. She almost 
screamed when she saw her homework on the table. Rory shed her coat and bag 
on the floor before flinging herself into bed. She final sobbed into her 
pillow. Her muffled cries echoing through the house.

The only good thing about today... it was Friday. She wouldn’t have to 
suffer any of the consequences of today until Monday. At least... that was 
what she thought.

END PT 1