This little idea has been in my mind for years. I always wished Rory had reacted to Jess's declaration of love. So I've finally written my abstract thoughts down. The first part of this chapter is what I always pictured although I ended up carrying it a little bit further and I'm not sure where it is going, if anywhere. I included a bit of dialogue from the show to set the scene. I hope you enjoy!

Rory had carved a path, quickly, through the crowded streets of Stars Hollow, her footsteps guided by the flickering, haunting light of a bonfire. And now, finding that her feet had moved enough, she'd stopped.

But her words carried on, flowing perhaps more quickly than her steps ever had.

"You know, I have actually thought about this moment. A lot. What would Jess say to me if I ever saw him again? I mean, he just took off. No note, no call, nothing. How could he explain that? And then a year goes by. No word, nothing, so he couldn't possibly have a good excuse for that, right?

"I have imagined hundreds of different scenarios with a hundred different great last parting lines, and I have to tell you that I am actually very curious to see which way this is going to go."

Jess reacted just as she'd expected him to, with evasion. "Could we sit down?" he pleaded and Rory couldn't help but think it was merely a stalling tactic.

"No," she said harshly. "You wanted to talk, so talk. What do you have to say to me?"

Jess took a deep breath and then let it out in stages. Yup definitely a stalling tactic, Rory thought bitterly. Jess was a good one at avoiding the tough subjects. Rory was mentally tearing him a new one when Jess finally spoke.

"I love you," he said plaintively, as though apologizing, as though it were heartbreakingly unfortunate and not totally ludicrous.

But of course it was ludicrous.

Rory couldn't speak. She could barely think. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, she watched as Jess stalked away from her, around the corner, and towards his car. He'd already taken the driver's seat before she realized what was happening. He was leaving. Again. How dare he take the upper hand that way! she thought. How dare he get the last word!

As Jess took the vehicle out of park and it began to roll forward, Rory felt another bout of anger well up inside her. Without thinking, she stepped forward quickly, meeting his car as he passed by. With a resonating slap that took all of her might—and that reverberated with pain, through her hand, clear up to her shoulder—she slammed her palm against the hood of his car. The momentum of the car spun her torso around as she stumbled backwards.

Though he hadn't yet been travelling at full speed, the car and his body within it lurched forward, then jerked back, as Jess jammed his foot on the break pedal.

"Ow!" she muttered.

"What are you doing?" he yelled loudly enough that his voice could be heard, muffled, through the windshield, as though her unorthodox behaviour had shocked and frightened him. "Are you crazy? I could have driven over your foot!"

Rory gritted her teeth in irritation of the lecture in his voice. He'd stopped. That was exactly the outcome she'd wanted. Therefore her actions had been perfectly called for. And yet, now that he'd stopped, she suddenly felt confused and shaky. Indeed, there had been potential for danger in such impetuous behaviour. In Rory's saner moments, she'd never have stepped so close to a moving vehicle. Maybe she was crazy.

Some of her anger attempted to dissolve under a wash of adrenaline but she resolutely held fast to the hardness of it. Like cornstarch and water, if she just squeezed tightly, she'd keep her anger intact.

She'd heard the reprimand creep into his voice but she would not allow him the upper hand. Despite her rubbery adrenaline legs, she strode to the passenger door where her knuckles rapped repeatedly upon its glass. Perhaps her glare had been as formidable as she'd hoped it would be, since, for a moment, Jess just stared as his jaw fell slack.

Finally he leaned over, hesitantly, to pull open the lock. Once unlocked, she pried the door open in a flash. Rory dropped into the passenger seat and slammed the door hard behind her as Jess shrank in surprise against the opposite door.

The musty scents of the old car tickled her nose, bringing her back to days gone by and taking a bit of the steam out of her fire. Even the song playing on his stereo was hauntingly familiar. Don't go there, she thought. Stay angry. She squeezed harder her cornstarch anger.

"What are you doing?" he asked again. His left hand gripped the steering wheel as though he felt it could shield him against her impending attack.

Perhaps a shield would be necessary. Immediately she laid into him with a loud voice and a poking finger, "You do not get to do that! You do not get to just drop this bombshell and then drive away, as if what you just said just now meant nothing!" She turned the volume way down on his stereo and took a deep breath to fuel her rant. "You do not get to waltz back into my town, into my life, tell me that you love me and then just leave again! It doesn't work that way.

"I know you think you can get away with that, because, hey, it worked before when you waltzed into my life the first time and then just left—abruptly—with seemingly no repercussions. But, I gotta tell you Jess: even though you didn't see them, there were still repercussions! Repercussions still exist even if you're not there to witness them! People still exist even though you can't see them!"

She blinked back the tears that threatened. "So, no, you're wrong! You do not get to drop a bombshell like that and leave!" Her rant momentarily stalling, she slumped into the passenger seat, pouting, with her arms crossed in front of her. The only sound was the putter of the engine, masking Jess's stunned silence.

The expression on his face frustrated her all over again, so she pushed aggressively against his shoulder, pressing him further against the glass of the driver's side window. "And you definitely do not get to do all those things and then look at me like I'm crazy when I call you on it!"

"Sorry."

"Sorry for what? For leaving? For looking at me like I'm crazy?" For saying such asinine words like love? she thought.

"You're not—" He broke off, shaking his head. "For... both," he offered meekly. "For every… I didn't mean—"

The look on his face clearly told her that it hadn't been his intention to drop any bombshells or to hurt her when he'd left. She got the distinct impression that he'd fully expected his words and presence (or lack thereof) to carry no meaning for her.

But the emotions his expression evoked in her were not conducive to maintaining the anger she so desperately clung to. She averted her eyes. "Shhh!" she admonished shortly, even though he was no longer speaking. She waved her hand dismissively at the memory of his words. "Drive."

"What?"

"Drive!" she said, her dismissive fingers finding purpose in pointing at the road ahead. "We've already made enough of a scene than I care to admit. And I see Miss Patty over there and any minute she's going to recognize your car and then she's going to see me in it, and she's going to think God-knows-what and I have no desire to be on the front page of the Stars Hollow tabloids tomorrow morning, so drive."

"OK! OK!" he pleaded, as though for mercy. "Where?"

"Woodbridge," she muttered, in command.

Jess stared, open-mouthed, at her for a second longer, until she reached for her seatbelt and strapped herself in. Then Jess drove, slowly navigating the bustling party-goers as Rory ducked down in the seat and avoided the sight lines of Miss Patty.

As they hit the freeway, a silence beset the vehicle, punctuated only by the rushing whoosh of the occasional on-coming car. It was as Rory was wondering just exactly what she'd gotten herself into (instead of the happy night of bonfire gazing that she had planned) that she remembered her mom was still expecting her. She sent her mom a quick, vague and misleadingly carefree text so that the woman wouldn't worry. There was still silence in the car when her phone received her mother's blissfully unaware response.

They were five minutes outside the limits of Stars Hollow and halfway to Woodbridge before either of them spoke. Rory broke the silence.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"You want something," she muttered, her gaze leaving his hardened jaw line to focus on the shadows of night passing by. She tried a different tactic. "Why have you been avoiding me all day?"

"Luke said you were happy without me and I'm sure you are. Your mom said something to the same effect. I didn't want to make your life complicated."

Rory crossed her arms across her chest once again, sneaking a confused peek at his gritted jawbone. She hadn't even known her mom had spoken to Jess. "You make my life complicated whether you try to or not."

"Are you happy?" he asked, staring resolutely out the windshield, and Rory felt as though the question had come out of left field but, of course, it hadn't. Apparently, people had mentioned her happiness to him. Jess was merely verifying it.

Rory stuck out her jaw in a defensive, defiant pout. She was happy. She'd survived The Great Jess Debacle of '03 and she'd come out the other side stronger than ever. That was something she definitely wanted Jess to know. She was just about to thank him for making her the happiest and strongest she'd ever been, on the day he'd left town, when she ground her teeth and held back her tongue.

She could say it, but it wouldn't be true.

She was stronger, yes, but sometimes she wondered if stronger was just another way to say callused and guarded. She was happy too, but being away at college she was also the loneliest that she'd ever felt in all her life.

"Are you?" she volleyed, peeved.

Jess sighed, also not volunteering any information, as he turned off the main road, headed into Woodbridge.

In silence they glided through the residential streets of a community only slightly bigger than Stars Hollow. As though on Auto-Pilot, the car pulled into the parking lot of a neighbourhood park.

The headlights sliced the blanket of nightfall and shone out on a deserted expanse of squat, grassy hills and evergreen trees. Rory stared out the windshield, suddenly recognizing the place. She and Jess had come here numerous times, although always under better circumstances. Jess sighed again and Rory wondered if the significance of the location had also crossed his mind.

Jess cut the engine and the lights, however, and the two were instantly plunged into silence and a semi-darkness lit only by the single streetlamp guarding the parking lot. To Rory, the silence seemed infinitely louder than the rumble of the engine had ever been.

Rory opened her mouth to speak and then turned to him. Jess was frowning at the landscape, bathed faintly in the eerie light of the single streetlamp. He held his hand on the key, which was still in the ignition, as though preparing for a quick get-away at the first sign of trouble.

She instantly lost her train of thought. "You brought us here," she murmured instead.

"Sorry," he muttered, scowling more. "Force of habit."

"Don't apologize. It's perfect."

"What?" he cried in agitation, shaking his head in disbelief. Confusion screwed up his features as he finally turned to look at her.

Rory just shrugged her shoulders, not even knowing what she meant. "It's quiet. There are no distractions." She rolled her eyes. "We both know it's private."

She dared a look at his face. His lips were gathered in a pained expression. His breath was quicker than normal. She could see clearly, even in the dim light the streetlamp afforded her, that he was remembering the privacy.

"We can talk," she added, perhaps to clarify her intentions.

Jess's hand left its perch at the ignition, leaving the keys to dangle there alone. As he took off his seatbelt, he stared out the windshield. Though his actions led her to believe they would finally be airing their grievances, his next response corrected her misconception. "I don't want to talk anymore." If ever there was a conflicting message, it was delivered by Jess. But Rory was too tired to be irritated by this latest example.

"We are never on the same page. First I want to talk, then you want to talk, then I want to talk..." she undid her own seatbelt and stared outwards as well.

"What is there to talk about?"

"I don't know," she murmured, shrugging her shoulders even though she knew he wasn't watching her. She began fiddling with the dash in front of her. She slid her thumbnail along the length of a seam and frowned as her thumbnail came up dirty. Deciding that the dirt didn't matter, she continued scraping the top edge of the glove box. "You don't really love me."

"Believe what you like."