Author: Scarlettmarch

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.

Summary: Slightly AU, I suppose. Rory and Jess's relationship seen through the eyes of a stranger.

Memory

Twisting the hot coffee cup through my hands so as not to get burned, I walk slowly through this quaint, almost antiquated town. It seems like something out of a black and white movie set in the fifties, with its beautiful old houses, trimmed lawns, and bustling Main Street. The town seems to have a certain character of its own, which manifests itself and plays a part in all these people's lives. It's like a diamond lost amongst the rubble of our world, I think, somewhat poetically.

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." Set in that context, I'm already able to identify the principle players of Stars Hollow, the ones without whom the show would not be the same. There's the flashily attired dame who wouldn't have looked out of place on an opera stage; from the snippets of conversation I overheard, she seemed to feel the need to inform everyone of everyone else's affairs. Useful, but a bit annoying.

And then there was the skinny man with the grating voice, who made everyone's life a little more difficult, reordering a grilled cheese sandwich five times over because of tiny imperfections in the melting of the cheese. The Frenchman was the next one I catalogued, his obnoxiousness permeating through every word. He had his moments, though, and was amusing when mocking the grilled-cheese man.

The following two interested me the most, perhaps solely for the sheer entertainment value of their banter. Though juggling plates, orders, and other obstacles, the apparent diner owner managed to keep up a steady stream of conversation with the giggly, sharp-witted brunette wearing a black, pin-striped suit. They could have been best friends or lovers; I guessed that the first had led to the other, or would do so eventually.

After a while I disengaged myself from the stool at the counter, and headed outside. And here I am, walking around aimlessly, enjoying the crisp, autumnal weather. I sit down on one of the more central benches in this little park, and take small sips of my almost forgotten coffee.

I see two figures out of the corner of my eyes, and twist my head a little to the left to observe them more easily. It was a girl and a boy walking at a leisurely pace, which seemed contradictory to the rapid speed of their voices. I slowly slide over to the edge of my bench in order be able to hear their conversation a little better.

They were discussing love, more specifically whether it exists or not. A conversation more suited to a classroom of some sort, but they did it justice anyways in this informal setting. The girl had a highly romantic, if slightly naïve notion of love, while the boy espoused a more cynical view of that fair emotion. 

"But just think about it, Jess, practically every single book, movie, or song centers on love, don't they?" the girl asks eagerly, her blue eyes alight.

"Yeah, but just because," Jess begins, but is swiftly cut off by his companion.

"Well, it has to be based on something, then. I mean, if the greatest thinkers all said that it was true, then it has to be real," she concluds emphatically, with a hint of a Debate Club in her manner of speech.

"Rory, Rory, Rory," the boy trails off, shaking his head in amusement at her innocence. "I never said it wasn't based on something. It's just not the pretty little picture you've painted for yourself. What people think is love is just an illusion; it's completely in their minds. And your argument about that it "has to be based on something, just because all the great thinkers believed in it" is sort of weak, don't you think? I mean, they all believed in religion and God, and well, that's not true…"

"Hey, don't change the topic, mister, we've gone down that lane far too many times," Rory says playfully, swatting his arm as she speaks.

Jess continues his argument, ignoring Rory as best as he could. "But I think the two are definitely related, don't you? I think that the idea of love, and believing it, just like with religion, is the people's way of coping with life. They can't handle that there's nothing there, that nothing matters, that we're here for a millisecond in the huge time span of the universe, and then we're annihilated, and there's nothing after we die, and it doesn't matter what we did while we were here," he rambles on, his voice gradually coming to a halt before picking up speed once again.

"So they created this idea of love, that it can change someone's entire life, that caring about others in that way is worthwhile, that it makes this entire thing worth doing, so people just don't kill themselves the minute they realize that it's all pointless." Jess smiles wryly at the conclusion of his speech, attempting to gauge Rory's reaction.

It seemed impossible that he fully believed in all of this, try as he might to anyways. Perhaps it's his way of coping with life, believing that there is no love, just as he claims it's other people's way of coping in believing in it.

"You and your pseudo-intellectual musings," mumbles Rory under her breath, before continuing on in a louder tone of voice. "Take all the psychology out of this for a minute, and just focus on the emotions behind this idea of love. While you're at it, forget all preconceived notions of what love is. That's when we get tripped up, when we debate on what people believe is love exists."

Rory takes a deep breath, and speaks again. "Just imagine that there's a boy and a girl. For some reason that nobody knows, they find each other particularly attractive. Out of a crowd, each would pick the other one over anybody else. And all they want to do is belong to the other, and know the things that nobody else knows. Then there are other factors in their relationship with each other, like another girl who wants the boy for some reason or another. Because of this, the first girl becomes insanely jealous, not wanting anyone else to have even a piece of her boy. But anyways, I think this is what love boils down to. The longing, the jealousy, the passion, the caring. It may sound animalistic or primitive, or whatever, but I think that's what love is."

Before Jess can reply, the wind picks up, its howl scaring the leaves into a frenzied dance. They stay motionless until the leaves drift downward, until Jess leans in and plucks a reddish maple leaf off the top of her head, letting it slide slowly out of his grasp.

I could've sworn he was leaning in to kiss her; the way Rory's body swayed towards his makes me think she thought so, too.

She looks at her feet, shifting her weight to her heels. Lost in her thoughts, she looks up, shocked, when Jess grabs her elbow, pulling her in a little closer.

"What do you want from life, Rory?" Jess asks from some deep place in his throat. To any other person, she might have easily answered, "I want to be the first female president." She seems like that type of girl.

Jess doesn't seem to be any other person, at least not to her. For some reason or another, I don't see him getting along with the other inhabitants of Stars Hollow that I catalogued before; did he always live here? Or was he transplanted here from a city? He sounds like a New Yorker, but I've always been awful with accents. I'm drawn back to the scene before my eyes by Rory's voice.

"I don't really know," she says softly, obviously thinking. "I mean, I've thought about it, but…"

He gives her more time to collect her thoughts.

"I think that I just want a moment," she begins, speaking as the words come. "I want a moment that makes me feel something gloriously real. But I don't want it to change; I just want it to keep on being that moment." She pauses, unable to say what she means.

"What I'm trying to say is, when I think about that moment years later or whenever, I want that moment to make me feel the same exact thing that I felt when it first happened. The same joy, the same pain, whatever. I just want to feel it the same, with no hint of nostalgia or anything like that. I know life doesn't work like that, that it always changes. But I want something so real that it can't be changed."

Her words sink in like stones thrown into a lake, sinking down until all trace of them ever having been there is gone.

"I know it's impos-"

Her words are cut off, suddenly, by the pressure of Jess's mouth on hers. She's standing, stiff from surprise, until she gives in to the kiss, her arms wrapping themselves around Jess's neck. Her mouth opens a little wider, in order for him to get just a bit closer, a bit deeper, and he does so. His arms keep her pressed against tightly against his body, and her pale hands run through his disheveled hair. Reacting to his fingers tracing up and down her body, she shivers, then sighs. They've melted into each other completely, every part of their bodies touching, feeling.

He breaks his lips away from her slowly; she gasps.

"What are you feeling right now?" he asks urgently. Her eyes are midnight blue and glowing, she answers as if in a trance. "I'm feeling something different, something electric." She doesn't pull her eyes away, seemingly unable to do so.

"It feels like what I've always imagined love to be," she whispers. "Why'd you do it?"

"I wanted to see if I could give you that moment. But I guess I'll have to remind you of it a few years from now, and ask what you're feeling."

She returns his original question. "What do you want from life?"

He looks at her through hooded eyes. "I sort of want just to be love, and be loved, like you described it."

It's a rare moment of honesty, Rory appreciates it silently. For once, there was no sarcastic answer or glib reply.

Jess speaks again, finishing his last thought. "I was thinking maybe it would be with you."

She shoots him a puzzled glance. "It…love?"

"Yeah." He looks at her straight on, wanting, needing to see her reaction.

"Yeah." She repeats his statement, an affirmation to his unasked question.

I tear my eyes from the scene and walk away, the memory of my own love, faded over time, brought back as sharply, clearly, really, as it once was. Thank you, I whisper aloud. Everyone should have a memory like that.

*I wanted it to be one thing, and it turned into another. I have a feeling it didn't turn out so well. I don't really know what I think of it, but I do want to know what you think! Please, please, please drop a line and tell me.

Yours truly,

Gabrielle