Title: Enlightening Evidence
Rating: PG
Author: Jamsel
Date: October 11 2002
Spoilers: Season's One and Two
Author's Note: Although this is not my debut I've been at rest for a while. Let me know what you think.
PS- I own nothing
Thunder clashed outside the window and shook her room. She jumped at the sudden flicker of lighting yet calmed few seconds later. Her hair lay damp on her back leaving wet marks on the back of her plain white T-shirt. She pulled her jeans on over her damp legs kicking over an immense pile of paperbacks in the process. They landed on her cat, Deb.'s tail. Deb. mewed angrily and stalked off down the hall into the kitchen. "Sorry," Rory called after her and plugged in the hair dryer. Her smile hadn't faded yet, it wasn't going to. She loved her life.
Some people (her grandparents in particular) had called her profession beneath her. "You have so much potential." They protested when she announced the news to them. Despite the protesting, the fights, they finally backed down for fear of losing their granddaughter the way they lost their daughter. "At least let me help you. You need the start up capitol." Her grandfather had handed her the check. (A check she fully intended to pay back.)
At twenty-five many thought she way too naïve for retail, she couldn't handle the business. She knew she could and had taken her best friend on as a partner, it had after all, been their dream. Together, best friends for eight years they had debated the issue, debated the chance and argued about money. Finally, six months ago the dream had come true.
The lights flickered again and she jumped when the thunder clashed. She flicked the hair dryer off and grabbed her knit hat, pulling it down over her ears. Pulling on her brown suede jacket she slammed the door behind her and locked the door. The elevator was slow and she tapped her foot. Finally the old, creaky elevator arrived and she closed the door behind her.
They chose to model the store as Stars Hollow bookstore. It was almost an exact replica (minus the location-New York City.) Books lined the shelves and she had even set up her own display "Rory's Picks" with hard copy editions of The Fountainhead (he still teased her about that book), The Sound and The Fury and her other favorites. Days after Jess set up a similar display with his own picks, vaguely similar to her own but with no exact replica. "Copy cat." She'd protested.
"Hey I half own this store. I get my own display. " He'd replied with his usual smirk and hidden wittiness.
"Let's see who gets more picks." She challenged. She remembered that day clearly, as it was only a month ago. "Whoever wins buys the other dinner and closes up for a week."
"Please," he'd scoffed. "Notoriety has nothing to do with talent. You know that better than I do."
"What?" She'd asked half-joking half-indignant. "'Fraid you'll lose?"
"Bring it on." He retorted.
The elevator creaked to a stop at the ground floor and she stepped out. The rain had slowed to a few drops and she spotted the sun creeping out from behind a cloud. She started to walk down the street, even though it was early many people dotted the streets brushing past her without glancing in her direction. It was different here, in New York. In Stars Hollow she could look up and smile at ever person she passed on the sidewalk. She missed the friendly atmosphere and in a way, she wanted to move home and work at her Mother's inn. But so many people had tried to talk her out of it. She had to show them, she had to prove them wrong. She turned into Krispy Kreme doughnuts and saw the table. The famed table where she and Jess had decided to take action, to open the store, to do it together. She ordered a box and walked the final ten blocks to the store.
"So what are you going to call it?" Lorelai asked
"I have no idea, we've been debating for a while." Rory replied reaching into the fruit bowl and pulling out an orange.
"How about Book Nook." Lorelai suggested. "It has an edge."
"Yeah but its not original." She popped a piece of orange into her mouth.
"Does it have to be?"
"Yes. "
"Well that doesn't help me at all."
The sign now read "Literati Haven." She had stumbled across the work Literati, (the literary intelligence) in a dictionary and in the end it won out over the book nook. The sign was conspicuous, gold writing on a blue background, it represented to store. Nothing to flashy, nothing too expensive, just right. And it had been just right, so far everything had gone well, and profits were up. For some reason people were drawn to the Literati Haven, and she was happy, she was living her dream. Not her original dream, she was Christiane Amanpour, she wasn't crawling around in trenches but she was a happy, sometimes it's enough.
She opened to door and Jess glanced up from behind to cash register with a smile. She locked the door behind her and plopped the doughnuts down on the counter. Hopping up beside them she flipped the box open and grabbed the mug of coffee he offered her. "You're late." He tapped his watch with a smirk on his face.
"Yeah, the elevator is broken again, but I brought doughnuts."
"Did you get my cinn…."
"Yes I got your cinnamon swirl, don't I always." She pulled it out from among her chocolate and glazed treats.
"Thanks. So when are you taking me out to dinner?"
"I can't believe I lost that." She protested referring to the book pick contest.
"Read em and weep," he retorted shoving the list at her from under the register.
"But it's only two points."
"Yes, two that I have and you don't. Therefore I am the winner." He explained slowly.
"That merits a McDonalds."
"Oh come on." He protested.
"Fine Wendy's."
"Deal."
Two hours later she plopped down on the stool behind the register and rings in a few purchases. He was on the second level, a balcony that winds halfway around the store shelving books. She tilted her head up and looked at his lean frame stacking paperbacks in numerical order, probably some racy Romance series only bought by bold teenage girls and middle aged house wives. He turned around, sensing someone looking and caught her eye waving a book at her. A book featuring an almost naked woman swooning in the arms of muscle bound moron in a kilt. "It's Faith's last chance at love!" He yelled at her and she giggled. Still smiling she straightened the bookmarks and sighed. There was something about him, something different. Something that made her stomach tremble and the tips of the corner of her mouth turn up. Her cheeks go rosy and eye's flutter. He's her best friend, he always will be. But why is it, sometimes she thinks about that time, that time they kissed.
The pieces almost seemed to fit together at that moment. She watched his every move as he turned back towards the shelf and stacked books. His gray sweater defined his lean frame that she knew was muscular. His black pants were still a little baggy at the bottoms and he still wore a smirk on his face, but he was Jess. He was this guy that she'd battled with in her teenage years about Ayn Rand, the guy that she'd be in her first car crash with, they guy she'd kissed when she had a boyfriend, the guy she vowed to stay friends with against all odds. They were a motley pair, but they were perfect.
She finally saw the big picture. She finally knew what had to be done.
She didn't want to do it.
The first step was a big one. After about a minute of thought she slid of her stool and stepped out from behind the counter recalling the first conversations for strengths, the memories.
RORY: Because it's Tuesday night in Stars Hollow. There's nowhere to bail to. The 24-hour mini-mart just closed twenty minutes ago.
JESS: So we'll walk around or sit on a bench and stare at our shoes.
She stared down at the floor and took her next step. She ignored the customer who just walked in the door and concentrated on her memories.
JESS: It definitely has the most personality. Kind of looks like Bjork.
RORY: That's what we were going for.
JESS: Yeah?
RORY: But everyone thinks the one on the end is gonna be the winner.
JESS: Really? It's so overdone.
RORY: I agree.
JESS: You should win.
RORY: No argument.
A smile spread across her face as she remembers the biting wind that night, yet the conversation that had warmed her from the inside out.
JESS: You see, it's the screwing with Dean - that's an important step to getting here so that I can be nice to you.
RORY: So it was a plan.
Another step, she was on the stairs. She still had that picnic basket; she hadn't been able to throw it away. Now she knew why.
RORY: Now why would you lie about something like that?
JESS: Here's your change. Come again soon.
RORY: You wanted to come over.
JESS: I have to get back to work.
She'd always wondered if he'd wanted more from her. More than a friendship. She was three steps from the top, four steps from finding out.
JESS: Hey, I didn't mean to freak you out. I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll do it. You will, I promise. I'll help you practice, okay? Tomorrow, you'll stand in the middle of the street and I will drive straight at you screaming in a foreign language.
RORY: Well, you're gonna have to learn a foreign language first.
JESS: Well, it's lucky I've got me a tutor, isn't it? Okay, so I guess we should be getting back. I did promise to study if you went on this ice cream run with me.
RORY: Yes, you did.
That conversation brought a smile to her face. He'd been so eager to help her, so behind her. It was probably the most enthusiastic response she'd ever heard from him. She was at the top step. She could smell the spicy scent of his after-shave. He still hadn't noticed her.
JESS: You look nice.
RORY: Thank you. What are you doing here?
JESS: I moved back.
RORY: What?
JESS: I moved back.
RORY: But – what – why?
JESS: Just wanted to.
With that final memory she gathered up all the courage she possessed and tapped him on the shoulder. His sweater was soft under her fingertips. Wordlessly she walked down one of the many isles of books and leaned on the wall at the end. He followed behind her closely. When he drew close enough she reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. Slowly she let her cheek fall against his and her lips found there way together.
"I love you."