hey people. i am back yet again with another one of my stories. o, and the title is cuz i was inspired by the norah jones song shoot the moon.

there will be no moon shooting in my story. but you never know...


disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore girls, (tears) so don't sue me please

chapter 1: Movin' Kinda Fast


Rory shivered as she rang the doorbell impatiently for the fourth time. Even though it was late May, it was cold and rainy outside. She pulled the jacket around her tighter, wishing she had thought to wear something heavier. But most of her winter clothes were still packed away in boxes.

"Miss Rory?" the maid said, finally answering the door. "You're not expected for another hour."

"I know. I'm sorry but I finished my interview early, and so I just came straight over. I knew Grandma wouldn't mind," Rory said as she walked into the house and handed the maid her coat. She made her way to the living room.

"Rory darling, you're early!" Emily called, standing up from her seat in the living room, opening her arms for a hug.

"Hi Grandma. I'm sorry, I should have called, I didn't know you had company," Rory answered, noticing a young blonde man and an older woman sitting in the living room as well.

"Nonsense," Emily said. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. Rory, this is my old friend Lauren Dugrey and her son Tristan." The two stood up. Rory shook Lauren's hand and smiled, but when she reached Tristan and saw his striking blue eyes, she let out a little gasp.

"Tristan just graduated from Stanford University out west. Isn't that nice?" Emily continued, but Rory didn't hear her.

"Oh my gosh, Tristan," she finally said, recovering from the shock. "It's been so long!"

"Rory, how have you been?" Tristan asked, also snapping back into life when he realized that it was really and truly her in front of her. He shook her hand politely.

"Do you two know each other?" Lauren asked.

"We went to Chilton together," Tristan answered, reluctantly dropping her soft hand.

"That's right, you two are in the same class," Emily said, connecting things. They all took their seats again.

"So your Grandmother was telling us all about the Yale graduation. Valedictorian! That's quite an honor," Lauren said to Rory.

"Yes, thank you. It was an amazing experience," she answered politely.

"So you chose to go to Yale? If I remember correctly you were thinking about applying to Harvard," Tristan answered, with a level of stifling properness that Rory had never seen him use before.

"I did apply, but I ended up choosing Yale so I could be closer to home."

"Oh, Lauren, did I show you that wonderful new painting I purchased at the art auction?" Emily asked. Lauren shook her head. "Come with me. Let me show it to you. It is beautiful."

They walked out of the room, leaving Rory and Tristan behind. He let out a sigh of relief.

"I know how you feel," Rory said, leaning back in her chair.

"So, God, how long has it been?"

"Six years?" Rory guessed.

"Man. Isn't it weird how time works?"

"Extremely. I mean, it seems that just yesterday I was lugging around those heavy books through Chilton," Rory reminisced.

"With me following you, driving you insane. What did you do to be annoyed after I left Mary?" he asked, letting the familiar name slip out. They both smiled at the memory.

"You're forgetting Paris. We were at war all of our junior year and the majority of Senior."

Tristan laughed. "I haven't thought about her since I left! What happened to her anyway?"

"We were roommates at college," Rory answered, smiling as she thought about her friend.

"Brutal!" Tristan said, laughing again.

"So what about you? I see all you got out of an Ivy League university was surfer language," Rory joked.

"Don't forget the tan. I have a pretty good tan," Tristan added.

Even though he was joking, Rory couldn't help but notice how true it was. He did look good. Even better than the way she remembered him.

Tristan was thinking much the same thing about her. She looked so pretty in her skirt and top set, her long silky brown hair spilling over her shoulders. He couldn't believe that he was sitting here talking to her after all these years.

"So, Mary," he said, the name slipping out again. Rory let out a little laugh. It felt so natural to be called Mary. "Do you want to go out somewhere for dinner? Catch up on the past six years?"

"I'd love to Tristan, but I'm here for dinner with my Grandma and my Mom. She'll be here any minute and I can't just leave. I'm sorry."

"Oh yes you can," Emily said, walking into the living room. "I have had Friday night dinners with you every Friday for the past seven years with maybe two exceptions. You definitely deserve a vacation from me. Go with Tristan. Lorelai and I will be just fine."

"Are you sure?" Rory asked. "Because knowing you and Mom, you'll start World War Four."

"Haven't there only been two so far?" Tristan asked.

"Not with my Mom and Grandma. They're up to four or five at least."

Emily laughed. "Go, Rory. Your mother and I will behave. Or, I will at least. I can't promise anything for your mother. Go, and have a good time."

"Thanks Grandma," Rory said, kissing her on the cheek as they walked to the door.

"So, where are we going?" Tristan asked Rory as they ran to the car, trying not to get soaked by the rain.

"One word. Pizza and Coffee."

"That's three."

"You get my point," Rory said. "Just drive."


Rory leaned back in her seat, her laughing fit finally calming down. She had been sitting with Tristan in a small fifty's style restaurant for the past three hours, just catching each other up on their lives and reminiscing on old times. Tristan had been making her laugh harder than she had in months, recounting stories of Paris in high school. Rory had almost forgotten how Paris used to be, such a change from the woman she was now. Sure she was still intense and striving for perfection, but she was much more sane and easier to get along with.

"You know, I have to admit something," Tristan said, pulling Rory out of her thoughts. "I had the biggest crush on you in tenth and eleventh grade."

Rory smiled. "I thought there was a reason you were so mean to me," she said. "Totally a Helga- Arnold relationship."

"You mean from that cartoon Hey Arnold? Ha! I guess that makes me Helga, and that also gives me a unibrow," he said. "Man, I don't like the way that sounds. Can you imagine me with a unibrow?"

"Still as in love with yourself now as you were six years ago I see," Rory said, taking a sip of her coffee.

"There is nothing wrong with having a positive body image," He answered.

"Have you been reading Cosmo?"

"I've picked up a few issues here and there. I find that most girls have them lying around their rooms," Tristan smirked.

"I almost forgot that I was sitting with the king of one night stands. I'm assuming that the title is still yours."

"Ah, yes. I am quite well known around Stanford."

"Now, back to your tan and surfer language. I always thought Stanford was in northern California. You make it sound like it's San Diego."

"Amazing, isn't it?" He smirked. "Actually, I spent most of my time in San Diego. The beauty of taking courses over the Internet."

"I didn't know Stanford University would let you get away with such a thing," Rory said.

"A person can get away with anything, if they have the right technique. Me, I figured I'm living in sunny CA. Why waste my time where it was green and rainy? I should be at the beach. So, I signed up for every online class I could find, and spent most of my time and almost all of my summers at the beach."

"Only you, Tristan, would make it into an Ivy League college and then choose to not take advantage of it."

"What can I say? I'm unique."

Rory smiled. She was glad she was there, having dinner with him. This was the first time they had ever really had a civil conversation. She was happy to have the opportunity.

Tristan's cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and checked the number.

"I can't talk now Dad," he said into his phone. "I'm in the middle of dinner, can I call you back?" He listened for a minute.

"Can you excuse me for a second Ror?" He asked. Rory nodded and he walked outside.

"Tristan, you were supposed to be at dinner tonight," Richard Dugrey said to his son.

"Mom let me go," he answered.

"She had no right. You knew that I had a very important dinner with two of my most prominent clients. You need to be there for these kind of things if you are going to get a position in my company."

"Dad, how many times do I have to tell you, I don't want a job? I can get my own job. I want to get my own job, my own life. You have Aaron to run the business for you. I'm not cut out for that sort of thing."

"Your older brother couldn't run this company if his life depended on it. I've been counting on you."

"Well, stop counting on me Dad. I'm twenty-two. That's old enough to be making my own decisions."

"Stop talking nonsense, boy. Come home immediately. I have someone who you have to meet."

"Who is she this time, Father?" Tristan asked, despondently.

"Your fiancée."

"MY WHAT?" Tristan yelled, causing a group of people on the street to stare at him.

"A wonderful girl. Her name is Paris. Paris Geller. Her father was telling me you two used to go to high school together. Geller Real Estates is the company that Dugrey Industries needs to merge with. Your wedding will be the best merger agreement of this century!"

"Father, I can't marry her," Tristan said.

"Pray tell me why."

"Because I'm already engaged."

"To whom?" Richard asked with a bored tone.

"I'm bringing her home to meet you tonight. We'll be there in an hour."

"Tristan, this doesn't mean your engagement to Geller is off!"

"Goodbye," Tristan said. He turned off his cell phone and went back inside.

"Sorry that took so long," he said to Rory when he sat back down.

"That's okay. Your loss really because I ate your ice cream sunday while you were gone, it was really good."

Tristan smiled. "I have to ask you a favor. A HUGE favor actually."

"Shoot," Rory answered.

"Will you marry me?"

"Excuse me?" she said, slamming down her coffee mug in surprise.

"Just pretend," Tristan answered. "My father just called to inform me that I'm engaged to Paris Geller. Paris and me. Imagine that! So I told him I'm already engaged, and that I'll bring her tonight. Please Mare, I really need you, just so I can buy myself a little more time to think of a better way out of this."

"So let me get this straight," Rory said. "You want me to pretend to be your fiancée so that you don't have to marry Paris? Tristan, that's kind of low, even for you."

Tristan looked at her in surprise. "It's not Paris, Rory. It's the whole idea of an arranged marriage. You know me Mare; I'm not exactly the commitment kind of guy. And I know that if I find the right woman I will be able to settle down and love her and only her. But if I get forced into marrying someone I don't love, someone I hardly know, then I don't know if I'll be able to stay faithful to her.

"My father and mother's marriage was arranged, and look at the home I grew up in. They can hardly even stand to be in the same room together. My father has had more affairs than I would even want to count. I don't want that happening to me. I want my kids to grow up in a home where their father loves their mother, and all is roses and candy all the time. This may sound lame, but I want a Leave it to Beaver life."

Rory thought about what he said. She never knew that Tristan had this serious side to him. His perspective on love and families touched her.

"Will I get a ring?" she asked.


"An engagement ring. If we're going to pull this off you're going to have to give me a ring."

"I'll give you the biggest ring I can find," he said, thrilled she had changed her mind. "We better hurry, it's almost ten o'clock. We have to find a ring store before one closes!"

Tristan paid the bill. Taking her hand, they walked out the door and into the cold May night.

a/n: I doubt the rest of my chapters will be this long, but I just wanted to set up the story. Did you ever realize how pretty that purple little button is? It's just calling your name…