Disclaimer: I'm sooo lazy, so I'm not going to type out ownership to everyone. I don't own any of the book, show, or movie characters referenced. ASP and DP own Jess and Rory. S
A/N: I'm not sure where I've been getting these ideas from lately, but tell me what you think! I love getting reviews. :)
If you haven't already, check out my other Jess/Rory oneshot, Exchanges on a Rainy Afternoon. If I get enough positive, honest feedback for that one, I may just turn that into a three-part ficlet.
While reading, imagine this as an unaired scene during Lorelai's Graduation Day. If I accidentally take lines from the show without realizing that, it's my mistake and I apologize profusely. I don't think I did though.
Summary: Extra scene from Lorelai's Graduation Day. Jess and Rory make a list of their favorite books, and realize some things not-so-literary in the process.
Top Ten Literati Countdown
"What
about this one?" Rory asked impatiently, pulling Jess into the
nearest coffee shop by the arm, ignoring the leap she felt in her
stomach as they touched. "I need coffee! The hot dog was really
wonderful, in fact one of the greatest hot dogs in the history of hot
dogs, which goes back pretty far if I can recall correctly. But you
see, when there is no coffee in my system, I begin to get weaker…and
more fidgety. Somehow this finicky behavior leads to me getting
angry. And you don't want to see me angry, do you Jess? Do
y—"
"Jeez! Alright, we'll get your steroids in a cup, Mike Tyson—just don't bite my ear off, okay?" Jess grinned, pulling off his jacket and collapsing in a booth next to the window. It was a quaint café, with tan and orange printed curtains, with matching tables and chairs. Seconds later Rory reappeared, balancing two cups of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin in her arms.
"Here you go." she said, her voice becoming chipper once again as she slid the Styrofoam coffee cup across the table to Jess, taking the seat across from him.
"Thanks. I've always wondered what stale dirt tasted like." he muttered, eyeing the black coffee with distaste.
"Oh come on. How else do you get your energy? The cream and sugar takes away from the real coffee experience." she shook her head in mock shame, folding her arms across her chest, and proceeding to take a bite out of her muffin. "You never struck me as the coffee type, anyway."
"Huh. Then what kind of type do I strike you as, Rory?" Jess asked interestedly, leaning forward, his dark chocolate eyes locking with hers. Rory blushed, averting her gaze and leaning back into the leather cushion of the booth. She still hadn't decided what her intentions were for coming to New York, to see Jess of all people. And she had Dean. She had a boyfriend. She shouldn't be even thinking about what her intentions were. She shouldn't have come in the first place. Damnit, how did Jess have this effect on her?
The vacant expression on Rory's face quickly disappeared as she realized Jess was watching her with a smile forming on his face. God, she loved his smile. Upon realizing how obvious she was making her daydreaming process, she jumped as though a stranger had tapped her shoulder from behind, and remembered to answer the question. "Oh…well you, you're more of the Smirnoff in the English tea kind of guy to me." she laughed nervously, looking down at her shoes.
Jess couldn't help but laugh. "I must say, its pretty damn good." They both paused awkwardly, staring down into their respective drinks, not knowing what to say for a moment.
"Oh!" Rory's eyes widened as she reached for her bag. She pulled out a book, at least three hundred pages and passed it over to Jess. "Luke gave this to me the day after you moved back." Jess looked down at the book. Please Kill Me, the book he had offered to lend Rory before the accident. Her azure eyes looked up into his brown for a moment, before she blushed, nodding stupidly as her mind went elsewhere. "You were right. I really liked it."
Jess smirked. "I would have given it to you myself…but…well…" he trailed off, staring out the window at the slew of people meandering through the streets of New York. Each person with his or her own story to tell. He wondered if any of them had ever experienced the same feelings he was feeling for Rory at this moment in time. Hell, maybe he'd write a book about it one day.
Guilt flooded through him. This was his entire fault. Rory wouldn't have had to skip school, and go through all this trouble, if it weren't for the fact that he had crashed the car. "Rory…I…" he started, but she already knew what he was thinking.
"Its okay." she said seriously, reaching out to touch his arm gently. Once again, she caught herself and retracted it, blushing. Her eyes traveled over the copy of Please Kill Me, sitting on the other end of the table. Rory's mouth created an 'O' in realization as if thinking of a truly spectacular idea. Jess looked up at her.
"Still thinking about that hot dog?"
Rory chuckled. "Dirty, but no. Let's make a list." She reached inside her yellow backpack, pulled out two pens and two blank sheets of paper. One of each was passed over to Jess, who looked amused and a trifle bewildered at the same time.
"A list." he repeated simply, as though it was the most sensible thing in the world, continuing to stare blankly at the pen and paper. "Is this that bizarre but amazingly enough accurate pro/con list thing you always do? Because I'd really like to know what we are—"
"Of our top ten classic pieces of literature! If Entertainment Weekly can do it, so can we! Well, they don't really do classics…but we can do our own little twist on it. Besides, its kind of raining outside right now, and Paris—OH, Paris told me she needed an article about books because we apparently focus too much on student issues in The Franklin, and not enough about things outside of that…and…"
"Okay. Are we going to use one of those nifty little scrabble timers too? You know how much I love those." Rory rolled her eyes, already beginning to scribble down titles and authors. Jess peered over the table to see what she was writing. She covered the paper with her arms protectively, sticking her tongue out.
"Nope. You have to do yours also. Title, author, and a reason why it's good. We'll each do five Fifteen minutes, starting….now."
Jess cast a slightly amused glance in Rory's direction. She didn't take much notice though. He took this time to study her face as she concentrated. The way her lips puckered slightly, and her eyebrows furrowed. The way…god, he was doing it again. Rory had Dean. What Rory saw in Dean was beyond him, but she still had him. They were together. But since when has the jolly gay giant Dean ever stopped him from talking to Rory? Never. Jess knew that there had to be something…he saw it in the way she looked at him. The way she would blush when they locked eyes. Or maybe we was imagining things…
"Are you planning on starting?" a voice snapped out of nowhere in particular. It was only when Rory had poked his arm with a pen that Jess came out of his stupor. He nodded, beginning to write. The next fifteen minutes were spent in silence, with the exception of the sound of pens scratching out words on paper. Finally, Rory triumphantly dropped the pen, looking enthusiastically over at Jess.
"Je-ess!" she whined, bobbing impatiently in the booth.
"Ro-ry! God damnit, just a minute." he imitated her baby voice, smirking, although his eyes remained attached to the sheet of paper. Thirty seconds later, he dropped his pen, holding up the sheet of paper proudly.
"So what do you have? We should start off with whatever's on the bottom of our list, and then make our way up to number one." There was a light in Rory's eyes as she had never seen before. Maybe it was a little biased, but Jess had never seen her eyes light up like that when she was around Dean.
"Farewell to Arms. Heming—"
"Aww, jeez, Jess! Hemingway?" he smirked
"I thought you were giving him a chance? What happened to Rory Gilmore, the equal opportunist?! That's insulting." He grabbed his heart with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut in mock pain. "After all those lovely things he said about you?"
Rory sighed. "Fine, fine. How many more do you have by him?" he laughed.
"Well, three's gotta be A Moveable Feast—yes, I know Hemingway. But four was Catcher in the Rye—see?" he pointed out, rolling his eyes at Rory. "I read other things! On the Road is number two, and number one is…"
"Howl." Rory said quietly, staring at Jess's small, precise handwriting. "You picked Howl."
"I realize that."
"You mean, the book, titled Howl…with printed words…the book…"
"Is that what they call them nowadays?"
"Howl, as in Allen Ginsberg's Howl."
"I believe that's the author."
"You chose that as your favorite book…because…you…you wrote it down…and I told you to say it aloud."
"Am I missing something here?" Jess grinned at Rory, secretly savoring the fact that she knew why he chose it, and was putting money that she had chosen it too. If she had, it would be just more reassurance to this relationship simply getting better and better.
"No…nothing. Everything's wonderful…I just…nevermind." she blushed again, and added as an afterthought. "That's what I put for number one on my list too."
"Assumed so."
Rory sat up straight in the seat, trying to regain her composure. "So…I'll tell you mine?" Jess nodded.
"Okay…well, number five is To Kill A Mockingbird, four is Anna Karenina, by Tolstoy, Atlas Shrugged is three, and The Fountainhead is two. And well, you know which one is number one." she blushed again. "So we have to add on a book since we both picked the same book for number one. Let's just do Oliver Twist, ok? Dickens is classic." Jess smirked.
"Does this mean that Hemingway is getting demoted to the bottom?" Jess pleaded. Rory rolled her eyes.
"Yup. A Moveable Feast and Farewell to Arms are sadly numbers ten and nine respectively."
"Do I get any say in this?"
"Not a chance."
"Fine." he mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair. "But everything by Rand is right behind it. If you think Hemingway is messed up, then Ayn Rand isn't a lot better."
Rory grumbled something incoherent about Hemingway and reluctantly added Rand's two pieces in the numbers eight and seven slots. She couldn't help but notice Jess as they worked on the list. The way his lips curled into a smile…the way he ran a hand through his hair whenever he was getting nervous or annoyed…it was all too tempting…But Dean. There was Dean, who had done nothing but been a doting, loving boyfriend. Who she loved. Not Jess.
Then why was she having such a hard time convincing herself of that?
"What's six, then?" Jess asked with interest. Rory couldn't help but smile at him. He noticed. "What?"
"Nothing, nothing. I just feel like I'm getting a glimpse a little kid who's walking into F.A.O. Schwarz for the first time ever." she said happily, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Rory said impatiently, slightly rolling her eyes. "I've never seen you so happy before."
"Oh."
"Regressing to monosyllabic speech? I'll try that out too. I Rory. You Jess?" she exhaled deeply. "Is there really anything with pointing out that you looked happy? I mean, it's not like you smile that often, only sometimes…oh god…neverm—"
"I know what you mean, jeez, can't a guy play around?" Jess laughed.
"Why today in particular, though?" she asked, dog-earing the cover of the book sitting on the table out of nerves.
"You already know the answer to that, don't you?" Rory nodded slowly, taking back the paper sitting on Jess's side of the table.
"Okay. Number six."
"Hmmm…" Jess started, his eyes darting quickly in between lists. "I'm not much of a Tolstoy fan either. Let's make him six, and then Kerouac can be five. Is that good?"
Rory giggled, writing his suggestions down onto the list. "Four is To Kill A Mockingbird, right? Jem and Scout deserve better, but I know all about your secret love affair with—"
"Holden? Yeah. I can invite you to the goddamn wedding if you want, but I mean, I don't even like him that much." He paused. "He's a real…phony. That Holden Caulfield." Rory rolled her eyes, scribbling down numbers two and three.
"That means Oliver Twist becomes number two and Howl is automatically number one." She eyed the list with a triumphant smile. "There. It's done."
"Rory?" Jess asked, his mind off somewhere in space, thinking about something other than the list.
"What? Oh—yeah?" she placed down the list for a moment to give her full attention to him.
"Are you happy with Dean?" This question had taken Rory off guard. What did he mean? Of course she was happy! Dean was…well Dean. He couldn't ever do anything wrong. But that doesn't justify being happy, does it?
"Of course I am…I mean…I love Dean." Rory's eyes searched the room, trying to find the right words to say. They were no where to be found.
"Just asking." He clarified, pulling a twenty from his pocket and leaving it on the table. "Come on, it doesn't matter. Want to go see that record store I was telling you about before?"
Rory blinked. When she thought of being happy—when she thought of true laughter—and that floating feeling you get like you're on a cloud—she thought of Jess. Not Dean. But why?
"Sure." She muttered quietly. Jess was already halfway out the door.
"You coming or what?"
"Yeah!" she said happily, tagging along Jess's side. Questions would be answered later. For now, Jess was her friend. Dean was her boyfriend. That would be that. For now. "Jess?"
"Yeah?" he responded.
"I'm glad I decided to come today." Her lips arched into an authentic smile. Only for Jess.
"I'm glad you did too."