Consider the Playing Field Levelled
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the WB.
Author's Note: Okay, this story requires a bit of an explanation. I started writing this after the episode where Rory decides she's going back to Yale. I'm posting it now mainly because I know the actual storyline of the show will probably go in a different direction. But I digress…
Rory Gilmore was back at Yale. She knew it had been a mistake to leave in the first place. Where else did she get this feeling of completeness, other than at home in Stars Hollow? There hadn't been room in residence, due to her late return, but Paris had seemingly read her mind and had kept a room for her in the townhouse she shared with Doyle. The room was small, but it didn't matter. She had room for her books, a desk and a twin bed, which was all she needed. Doyle and Paris shared a room down the hall, which had an adjoining bathroom.
"Hey." Paris stood in her doorway, glancing around the room. "You got settled pretty quickly."
"Yeah, I guess. I've still got another load of clothes to grab from home." Rory replied. She was sitting on her bed, putting some books into her bag.
"I want you to work at the paper." Paris blurted out, making Rory stop what she was doing and look up. "I know you have a job already, but I need you. Everyone else is just there to chit-chat and get free coffee! I can't stand it! There has been a serious decline in journalistic integrity, Gilmore, I can tell you that much. Someone wrote an article about being able to wear pajamas to class. I told him to write about the professor who's being investigated for sexual harassment." She let out a frustrated shriek, and Doyle appeared behind her.
"Paris. Let it go."
She rounded on him and they retreated into the hall to continue their argument. Rory rolled her eyes, and then went to her closet to get ready for class.
The townhouse was a five minute drive from campus, but Rory decided to walk, wanting to fully appreciate the campus after being away for so long. It was sunny, and the glare off the surface of the snow made her squint as she winded her way through the snowbanks piled on the edges of the sidewalk.
Her first class was uneventful, as was her second, although her professor had the unfortunate habit of trying to use technology he clearly didn't understand. Luckily, she had free time before her last class of the day and she decided to spend it in the quad outside the library, choosing a bench before pulling out one of her textbooks.
She was just finishing up a paragraph when a voice broke through her thoughts. She raised her eyes and squinted up into the sunlight at the person in front of her.
"Rory?"
"Marty!" She grinned widely before jumping up and hugging him. He returned it awkwardly before gesturing towards the bench.
"Can I?"
"Yeah, definitely!" She moved her bag and he sat down beside her, angled slightly towards her. "So how are you?"
"Uh, I'm good. I'm actually volunteering at a hospital this year, so… yeah." He trailed off, then recovered and asked, "How are you? I was kind of wondering how you were… I heard rumours." He averted his eyes, staring at his shoes instead.
She laughed. "Yeah… I had a bit of a… break, I guess."
"So you did leave Yale?" He asked, his eyes on her again. She nodded. "And the boat?"
"Boat?"
"Yeah, I heard you stole a boat. But I figured…" He stopped when he saw her blush and raised her eyebrows in confirmation. "Uh… ok, what? You stole a BOAT?"
She laughed and told him about getting arrested, and working off the community hours.
"But I'm back at Yale. I got lost a bit, but I'm back." He grinned and she smiled in return.
"Well good. I'm glad."
She took a moment to study him. They hadn't really spent a lot of time together after he admitted that he liked her, and she had spent a lot of time wishing things had been different. He looked exactly the same; the same brown curly hair, the same deep brown eyes, the same smile. Before Logan had come along, Rory had spent fleeting moments wondering if she wanted more than friendship with Marty. Now that she and Logan were broken up, her thoughts turned that way once again.
"So, are you living with Paris now?" He broke the comfortable silence. She nodded. "That must be fun."
"Believe me, it's infinitely better than where I was living last semester." He looked confused, so she elaborated. "I was living in my grandparents' poolhouse. Needless to say, I now know why my mother ran away when she was sixteen."
"And…" He paused, and looked away. "Are you still dating Logan Huntzberger?"
"No, we broke up."
"Good." He must have realised how that sounded, and stammered. "I mean, not that you broke up, it's just, I saw him with a blonde girl last week and they were being more than friendly, if you know what I mean." He met her eyes again. "I'm sorry though."
She shrugged. "I'm not."