I Saw Her on the Subway
Disclaimer: I really own very little. Story idea, etc. You get the idea.
Summary: Suddenly, a gorgeous brunette caught his eye as she entered the subway and slipped into the spot directly across from him. His brain very slowly registered the fact that it was her, that it was actually her, but he said nothing. What was there to say, really?
Chapter 1
Her eyes were glued to the pages of the novel in her hand while she walked down the New York City sidewalk. A dangerous feat, considering she could run into another oblivious pedestrian, get mugged, or run over by an overzealous cab driver. However, she pushed all these thoughts from her mind, at least for the time being. After all, she owed her editor a review on this book by the next morning.
Rory Gilmore had finally landed a dream job for a journalist. Her column ran in the New York Times every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. She was able to write about whatever she pleased, and in order to attract writers from all walks of life, her topics varied greatly.
One day she might choose to discuss politics or men or historical events and another she might take a more whimsical approach and discuss childhood stories, shoes, or even men. Her favorite form of writing was to review books, movies, or bands that she had seen or heard. Really, the only topic that went untouched was athletics, with the exception of one rambling article about how she would never again write about sports since she really had no clue what she was saying.
Rory finally landed herself on a dingy subway seat which helped her avoid most of the dangers of walking and reading simultaneously. After a few more minutes she reached the end of a chapter and allowed her attention to drift for a moment. Within seconds she realized that the man sitting across the way was staring at her intently.
He had been sitting on the subway for at least twenty minutes and still had a few stops to go. Somewhere along the way he had found a seat and was now relaxing, letting the music on his iPod drown out the city sounds. He was on his way to work, still a struggling writer; the Subsect proving to be his only real success, selling just over 8000 copies.
He still worked for Truncheon books, where many other authors were finding fame. The business had become so successful, in fact, that they'd formed a small branch in New York City which Jess and his coworker, Nathan, had volunteered to manage. Their workspace was small, a one room, second floor apartment, all the way across town from their shared, modest apartment.
Suddenly, a gorgeous brunette caught his eye as she entered the subway and slipped into the spot directly across from him. What initially caught his attention was the fact that she was reading a novel while walking, her eyes moving steadily across the page, never straying. What kept his attention was the fact that he recognized her. His brain very slowly registered the fact that it was her, that it was actually her, but he said nothing. What was there to say, really?
Instead, he allowed himself to study her. She had matured greatly since he had seen her last. Thirty-one was treating her well. Her body was still magnificently slim, with soft curves in all the right places. He admired her long legs and even noted her unique, yet professional attire. Her black skirt hugged her hips and legs, cutting off just below her knees, which, paired with black high heels, accentuated her calves. A matching blazer was unbuttoned to show off her red Monkees tee shirt. Her hairstyle was similar to when they'd spoken last, just a bit shorter. He couldn't help but notice that her fingers were void of any large engagement or wedding bands.
He chuckled softly aloud at her obvious concentration towards the book her nose was buried in. He knew the moment her concentration broke and she noticed his gaze, oh alright, his open staring. But it was all with good intentions. She shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him and back down very quickly before his appearance clicked in her mind and her eyes shot back up to meet his. He smiled warmly, already removing his ear buds and turning off his iPod. She dog-eared the corner of the page she was reading and shut her book.
"Jess." She breathed his name softly, almost unsure that he was really sitting there. Her voice had a huskier quality to it, more womanly and mature, yet he would have recognized it instantly.
She was uncomfortable with the blatant scrutiny but she had never been the type to confront someone, even a rude patron on the subway. Instead she looked up; trying to scare away whatever creepy old man was staring. She looked back down to her book before it hit her. The slightly mussed brown hair, the scruffy five o'clock shadow at seven in the morning, the warm, knowing eyes, and the familiar mischievous smirk on his lips; it was Jess.
He was busy wrapping the earphones cord around his iPod and tucking it away in his manly, leather shoulder bag, his eyes still on her, so she marked her page and shut her book. Was it really him or was she dreaming, yet again? Almost unknowingly she spoke his name.
His smirk grew into a smile, "Hey, Rory."
Her breath caught in her throat at his deep, scratchy voice. He sounded just like she had remembered but she could tell by his neat appearance that he had changed a great deal. Instead of sporting black jeans and a dirty tee shirt he was wearing a pair of dark, expensive looking blue jeans with a black Beatles tee shirt and a black sports coat. She couldn't help but remember that The Beatles had always been his dirty little secret. He had been a Beatles junkie, unknown to everyone but her, of course.
"You look-" She cleared her throat nervously. Why was she so nervous? "You look different. Good, I mean. Really good."
"Thanks. You look fantastic too."
He held back a smirk as she blushed a bright scarlet color. Obviously she hadn't changed that much. He mischievously wondered what she would do if her made a dirty comment or joke but managed to refrain. Not now, it just wasn't the appropriate time.
She wrung her hands in her lap, a sure sign that she was flustered and at a loss for words, an uncommon thing for a Gilmore girl. He wondered why he made her so uncomfortable and was tempted to wait for her to let loose a torrent of meaningless words, just for old time's sake. However, he had matured enough to realize he shouldn't do that to her so he broke the silence between them.
"How have you been?"
She smiled at him gratefully, "Good. Really good actually. I-um-I have a column in the Times. It's amazing. I really love it."
He already knew that. It was one of his favorite columns; then again, he could be biased. He had also read any other articles she had written for the Times before she was granted her own space in the paper. He acted surprised though, for her sake. "Wow, Rory, that's great. I'm proud of you."
Another blush. "Thank you."
"What happened to being an international correspondent?" He couldn't help but ask.
She shrugged, a bit embarrassed but determined to answer honestly. After all, it was only Jess; they'd known each other forever.
"I couldn't handle it. I mean, I loved it, but I never got to go home. Right after college, I followed Barack Obama's campaign trail for two years. I didn't get to go home once. To be perfectly honest, I missed my mom."
He was surprisingly understanding, "That's perfectly reasonable. You and Lorelai are so close, it's understandable that you would miss her and it's not like you don't have a great job now. The Times. That's so great, Rory. So many people dream to aspire what you have."
He was being very sweet and unconventional, at least for the Jess she used to know. Then again, she did remember him being very mature and caring when he'd come to visit her at Yale. He had been so reasonable, wanting the best for her. She suddenly felt the urge to tell him about Logan.
"I'm not with Logan anymore." She blurted.
His eyes widened a bit. He was surprised at this sudden admission, though he'd suspected it. After all, Huntzberger wouldn't stay with Rory this long without claiming her as his wife. He was secretly excited, an uncommon emotion for him, but outwardly appeared calm.
"Really?"
It seemed his simple question prompted a response because she spent the next ten minutes describing in detail what had happened between them. She went on to explain how she had only dated two other mean seriously since then and was currently single.
He was pleased to hear that she was single, though he didn't really know why. It wasn't as if the two of them would get together. They had tried that once before and it hadn't worked. It didn't matter that they had both changed and matured greatly. Or did it? He pushed the thought from his mind and concentrated on what she was saying.
After the announcement that she was single, Rory fell silent. She realized that she had been talking about herself quite a bit and Jess had sat there quietly, nodding politely at all the right times, listening intently. It was unbelievable how rude she was being.
"So, how have you been? What are you doing with yourself these days?" As she spoke the words she realized how old and stuck up they made her seem and she was actually embarrassed. Then again, there was no reason to show off for Jess. He had already seen her at her worst.
"Well," He paused to collect his thoughts, "I still work for Truncheon. We branched to the city and one of the guys moved here with me to run it."
"That's great!" She interjected." Are you still writing?"
He didn't seem at all fazed by the interruption, "Yeah, I think I always will. Nothing great though."
"Nothing great? What are you talking about? Everything you've ever written has always been amazing, Jess!"
He was crazy! Even when they were kids and she'd read his notebooks while he was showering, or cooking her a burger, his writing was amazing, way beyond expectations. From short little drabbles, to one-liners, to pages of stories, everything Jess wrote were pieces of art.
"I don't know. I mean, some stuff has been published but nothings done very well."
"You're published? Other than The Subsect? Where can I find these books?"
She was very well of the fact that they'd be at her stop in another minute or two and felt slightly panicked at the thought of parting from Jess. Would they ever see each other again?
He watched her face contort into displeasure as the conductor announced the next stop. As he listened he realized that the Times was at this stop and she would be getting off. He correctly deduced that this was the reason for her odd facial expression. It was nice to realize that she didn't want to leave his company, especially since the feelings mirrored his own. The solution was simple.
"I have a couple extra copies. I'm working late tonight. Why don't you swing by Truncheon and pick them up?"
She appeared to be relieved. "That'd be great. Where is it?"
Digging in his bag, he produced a pen and scrap of paper and scribbled the address upon it. She accepted it gratefully as the train screeched to a stop.
"It was great catching up with you, Jess. I'll be by tonight. Probably around six-thirty. Gotta run!"
"See you." He called after her.
He watched her go, her own leather messenger bag bouncing off her hip as she briskly walked away. The male pig in him couldn't help but notice she had a nice butt. However, the gentleman in him pushed this thought from his mind and tried to concentrate on how much she had changed and how lovely and poised she had been. Jess usually didn't get excited at things but he was looking forward to seeing her again. He hoped she would keep her word and come by. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave the shop unless she did.
Rory waited until she had reached the top of the stairs before she stopped to read the paper Jess had handed her. She stopped so abruptly, in fact, that the business man behind her almost walked right into her. He grumbled something as he walked around her but she ignored him. She studied the neat scrawl across the page, deciding that Jess' handwriting hadn't changed one bit.
She couldn't wait till their encounter that night and knew she would not be able to concentrate on her work till she saw him. A large cup of coffee and some distracting office gossip would do the job; however, she knew the day would still drag on much too slowly. As she headed down the street and pushed open the doors to The Times she couldn't help but hope that he would ask her out.
A/N: Well. There you go. Chapter one down. I have to admit, this is my favorite chapter thought I probably shouldn't. Oh well. Also, a note I just remembered, I used pronouns like she/he excessively in this story, using names as little as possible. At least I tried to for a different feel. I don't know how I did or if I succeeded but again, oh well. I'm being optimistic.
Also, don't make me beg for reviews. But I love them. So please review; comments, compliments, critiques, whatever vibe you're feeling towards this story, I wanna know. Thanks much!
Next chapter should be up in a couple days. My guess would be anywhere from Tuesday to Thursday-ish. But definitely this week.