Watching the Watchers
Part 1/?
Standard Disclaimer applies – I don't own them and that's probably a good thing.
Summary: Luke has a very …unusual guardian angel – whether he wants it or not!
Set in Season 2
A/N – so this is very new to me and is my first (and possibly only!) venture into the Gilmore world. It was my obsession with Peter Petrelli that led me to the character of Jess and I immediately fell in love with him. I'm not so focused on his love for Rory, although I know it's a valid obsession with Jess but I do like his relationship with Luke and so that's what I'm going to focus on.
I don't know if this is going to be a one-shot or whether I'm going to expand on it into a more Jess-centric look at his past and how he can never quite be rid of it in an angsty plot. I do love my angst :-)
I guess it depends on the responses from people and whether anyone's interested. I also don't want to lose track of my Heroes story but I've got some holiday time at the moment to dedicate to writing.
BTW, thanks to ShaolinQueen for giving me the idea to make a start on this!
Also, I'm a UK writer so there may be the odd word or spelling that you aren't familiar with. Please bear with me, lol.
The sheets of snow fell against the glass of the apartment window. From where he sat, nose buried in an old Victorian mystery novel, Jess shrugged a little deeper into his coat and backed up a little on his mattress, drawing his knees up to his chest in an effort to retain more body heat.
Luke's apartment was just fine for him but the windows could do with being double-glazed. The wind whistled through the gaps between the wooden frame and the wall and sent a chill throughout the room. The heating in the apartment, under normal circumstances, was actually more than adequate to temper its effects. Indeed, Luke never seemed to complain of a lack of heat in the place. But then again, Luke never seemed to complain about a lack of anything: the man was infuriatingly stoic.
Jess' problem stemmed more from the fact that his winter coat had seen one too many winters and one too many frozen New York nights when returning to his mother and their apartment had posed more of a risk to him than the falling temperatures around Washington Square Park. It was now thinning, the lining all but gone and practically useless. But practically useless things could still be favourites and Jess allowed himself small moments of sentimentality: moments few and far between enough, and carefully guarded enough not to get him hurt by careless talk.
Still, every now and then, Jess would have liked a new one – something thicker and a little less holey. He sighed. He would have to make the effort to save the money Luke was giving him from the diner. It amounted to little more than an allowance and even in the sugar-coated world of Stars Hollow, good clothing cost more than a week's allowance. But he could save, when he needed to.
The Bracebridge Dinner was thankfully over and Jess was glad to be able to return to, what had become, normal. Not that seeing Rory Gilmore had been a chore and the demolition of the town's snowmen had also been well-worth the effort but being in enforced company was alien and uncomfortable for him. He had only agreed to attend the dinner, partly for the delightful Miss Gilmore and partly because his uncle's guilt at his mother's rejection was still eating away at him. Jess wasn't the most empathic of souls but even he could see that Luke's thinly veiled lie was not enough to counter his depression at his sister's lack of maternal skills. Attending the dinner with Luke made his uncle feel better, like he wasn't abandoning his nephew at Christmas.
Christmas. God, that never held too many pleasant connotations for Jess. It wasn't that all his past Christmases were filled with miserable tales of abandonment and the odd lump of coal found at the bottom of a threadbare stocking. On the contrary, some of his earliest Christmas memories were quite pleasant – trees, nicely wrapped presents, they even made an attempt at going to the children's service at the church: Liz made more of an effort when he was little.
Or perhaps it was because he was a lot easier to handle when he was very small, before he knew enough to realise he should be resenting his mother, instead of helping her. Before he realised what a mother should be providing and that it wasn't an eight year-old's job to put his drunken mother to bed or check her pulse in the morning when she didn't wake up to walk him to school. Of course, had he been more manageable she may have found it easier to be nicer, too. Jess pushed those thoughts aside and once more tried to turn his attention to the drama unfolding on the page instead of in his life.
Luke had given him the night off from the diner. He was closing up early in light of the Christmas season and insisted his nephew had the day off. Jess wasn't sure if he'd heard his uncle right the first time he had informed him, spatula in hand whilst making him breakfast that morning. But Luke had just growled in response to his incredulous questioning and barked at him to get the plates and cutlery out. Jess had been tempted to point out that he had no-where to go and nothing to do on this grand day off he was being granted but then reconsidered: whatever he found to do, had to beat working in the diner. And it's not like he was ever consulted over what shifts he wanted to work, like other employees were so he would take time off whenever it was given.
Putting his book aside for a moment, Jess rubbed at his eyes, stood from his floor-bound mattress, stretched and then went to fetch a glass of water. On returning, tumbler in his hand, Jess resettled himself by the window, this timing leaning over to look out. The town was as sickeningly chipper and busy as always – festooned and lit up like a magical Christmas tree. He had to admit though, a small part of him found it quite festive. Outside, under his window, he could both see and hear the town's loudest mayor, Taylor Doose, ringing a bell, collection pan for some charity resting by his feet. He often seemed to lay stakes for his various ventures, right outside or even inside Luke's property and Jess was certain he did it simply to annoy his uncle.
And the more Jess thought about it, the more it angered him. Sure, he gave Luke a hard time any which way he could but over the months with his gruff, clueless but well-meaning uncle, Jess had developed a weird version of protectiveness about the old man. His own ribbing had been reduced to the less malevolent kind and more along the lines of pesky irritation or, in Jess' mind at least, down right amusing humour. And Lorelai Gilmore gave as good as she got in that department, too, he supposed.
But that was it: no one else was allowed to give this man grief. Luke sometimes needed people with a little more street-sense to look out for him, Jess had decided. And it kind of felt good to be looking out for someone, he realised - just like he used to do for Liz when boyfriend number two of the week didn't turn out to be the handsome prince she had taken him for. Or when that bottle of scotch mysteriously made its way down the kitchen sink, rather than into her already soused stomach. Jess never had to admit his intentions to anyone, but they felt good inside – a little bit of worth in an otherwise worthless soul. Not that Luke seemed to cotton on to this but then again, why should he? Jess had wound up grounded for an entire weekend after the chalk outline stunt but the venture had been worth it.
Down below, Taylor still rang that blessed hand-bell and bellowed out some ridiculous saccharine festive message to all and sundry. Now it was getting darned well impossible to read his book, too. Spying the two-litre cola bottle filled with water for the window plants, Jess carefully took it, undid the lock on the frame and pulled the glass up, just a fraction. A moment or two of getting the positioning just right and then Jess carefully tipped the bottle on its side, over the edge of the windowsill, unscrewed the cap and then sat back and counted in his head.
Three, two, one…
The shocked scream and sudden wild clanging of the bell brought the first real smile to Jess' lips that day. The frazzled, harried cursing coming from the previously saintly figure below, brought the second.
From down in the diner, Jess heard the door slam open and someone very loud storm inside. There was then a rather heated exchange with Luke, which ended, Jess was happy to hear with Taylor being unceremoniously thrown out. Then he disappeared off down the street, presumably to plan a protest march or something.
Jess resumed his place on his mattress and once more took up his book, content in his services for another day. Presently, the door to the apartment opened. Jess did not look up from his book.
"Jess." He didn't sound angry…just, tired. Jess spared him a glance before returning to the page.
"Tell me it was just water in that bottle."
"Bottle?"
Luke folded his arms and narrowed his eyes as he stalked over to the windowsill and retrieved the empty bottle from the window. Jess eyed it with sudden understanding.
"Oh that. Yeah, I was just watering the plants."
"The plants are inside the window."
"Well in the spirit of the season they wanted to share their good fortune with the plants outside, too."
"Jess," Luke began, a warning tone in his voice and Jess braced himself for another lecture. However, his uncle suddenly seemed to think better of it because he stopped himself and said, instead. "Just leave the horticultural stuff to me, okay? And stay away from this window." Jess nodded. "And from Taylor." Jess smirked but after a glare from Luke, he nodded again.
Sighing, Luke knew had got as much as he was going to get from this conversation and at least Jess had stayed in the apartment to hear it all out to the end, this time. The diner still needed running so he turned and headed back to the apartment door. He was almost at the threshold when he heard his nephew call after him.
"Luke?" The older man turned, suspiciously.
"Was he…very wet?"
And Luke turned back towards the door as quickly as he could, hoping the teenager hadn't noticed his smile before he had a chance to hide it. He coughed once and forced his voice into a deeper, gruffer tone.
"Read your book, Jess."
"Yes, Uncle Luke," Jess replied, turning the page with a satisfied smile.
Thanks for reading getting down to this point. Reviews are warmly welcomed and taken out and dusted off whenever that annoying thing called Life, keeps getting me down!