Summary: Because Rory never did make it up to Jess...
A/N: There are a lot of Lit moments missing on the show. This is one of them.
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls is not mine. Not now, not ever.
Just A Matter Of Time
("My dear fellow, who will let you?"
"That's not the point. The point is, who will stop me?")
The reminder
Here
She looks up from the pages of her book, startled by the voice. He is leaning casually against the gazebo entrance, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding out a book. His lips are curled up in an amused smirk. She hadn't even noticed him approach.
What is it?
She narrows her eyes at him, trying not to seem too curious. He just keeps watching her, one eyebrow slightly raised. She looks down at the book in his hand, and her eyes grow wide.
You finished it.
It isn't a question, and he shrugs in response. She smiles and reaches out for it, grasping the worn cover almost reverently. She opens it and her eyes immediately dart up to his.
Can I borrow it?
The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. He pushes his now empty hand into his other pocket.
Keep it.
She blinks.
But…
He gives another shrug.
I'll never read it again.
She watches him for another moment, stunned. Then her eyes drift towards the pages of the book, and his notes in the margins of those pages. She smiles, trailing her gaze over the neat scribbles.
Thank you.
She looks up at him and he's watching her with eyes sparkling in amusement.
I'll be waiting.
He winks at her, then turns to leave. She watches him descend the stairs and cross the grass on his way to Luke's. Then it clicks. She closes her eyes and wonders what she could possibly have been thinking when she promised to make it up to him.
The execution
She leads them down the street to a door framed by concrete walls covered in band posters. Its paint is falling off in flakes and it's slightly ajar. A punk song she doesn't recognize is blaring out through the crack, and a thin guy with blue hair and a worn leather jacket leans against the wall, his head bobbing in time with the music. He looks annoyed when she reaches out their tickets, and barely glances at them before kicking the door open all the way.
She glances up at Jess and finds him watching with an amused smirk. He turns to her fully and arches a questioning eyebrow.
This is where we're going?
The surprise is evident in his voice, and she is secretly pleased with herself for having managed it.
Yes.
Huh.
She can feel him close behind her when she walks through the door into the dark unknown, and then she stops so abruptly that he bumps into her. The place is completely packed, and as soon as she's inside, the loud music mixed with the voices of people trying to be heard over it is almost deafening.
You ok?
He is right behind her, speaking almost directly into her ear to make himself heard, and the shiver running down her spine has nothing to do with the music. She swallows and nods.
Yeah. Just taking in all in.
He watches her for a moment, then motions inside.
Shall we?
She smiles and they start making their way further into the shop as best as they can. After a few feet she almost wants to give up, finding it impossible to go anywhere, but then he's beside her, his hand on her elbow.
Come on.
She just nods, letting him lead her through the crowd. It's not long before they're through the worst, and she figures out why it was so packed inside the door. Everyone is on their way over to the stage and the show that's about to start in a few minutes. His hand stays on her arm for a few more seconds and when he lets go she feels a sudden surge of disappointment. She really doesn't want to think about what that means.
She turns away under the pretense of checking out their surroundings, feeling relieved to be able to move more or less unhindered. They're standing in between two rows of shelves packed with records, and the stage is almost completely blocked from view by a display case filled with old punk paraphernalia. Everywhere around them are studs and leather, mohawks and piercings, band shirts and combat boots, and she crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously, suddenly feeling out of place in her blue jeans and cardigan.
Then she glances over at him, casually browsing a stack of records beside her. He looks completely relaxed, fitting right in here, despite not really looking the part, and she can't help but envy him a little bit.
The music doesn't appear to be as loud here, or maybe it's just because there aren't as many people around. Either way she doesn't have to shout to make herself heard.
Shouldn't we try to get closer as well?
He looks up and nods before putting back the record he's holding and straightening out. He ends up standing right next to her shoulder, not quite touching, but still very close. Then he points towards the back.
Sure. That side's the best.
You've been here before?
Yeah. Couple times. Best record store in the area.
Lane said the same thing.
He smiles and they make their way over towards the open area in front of the stage.
The music stops abruptly just as someone calls out from the stage making the whole crowd go wild, and right then someone hurries past, pushing her straight into Jess. Before she can really react his hands are on her upper arms, steadying her.
Want to stay back here?
He doesn't say anything about her clearly being uncomfortable in this setting, and she's grateful. She wants to be cool and relaxed and just enjoy herself, but this is a whole other world than the concerts she has been to with her mother, and she can no longer blame her for being wary of this idea.
He doesn't do anything else, and lets go of her after only a few moments, but it still makes her feel, if not relaxed, then at least a little bit more at ease.
Yeah. I think so. If that's ok?
A loud cheer erupts from the crowd, drowning any answer he might have given. Then the band starts to play, and the room is all at once filled to the brim with people, jumping and cheering. She soon gets caught up in the atmosphere; there is so much energy in the room she can almost taste it. It's exhilerating, and feels just a little bit dangerous.
And she can feel him behind her, close enough that they bump into each other from time to time; more and more frequently as the set goes on. After a while she isn't sure how accidental it is anymore. The music is boring into her, and she can't resist its pull. She can feel herself relax, and really start to enjoy the show.
As the band continues to play, the store gets even more packed and at one point a particularly expressive couple tumbles into her, and she is sure she's gonna fall. Until she feels his arms around her waist, pulling her up and away and tight against his body. Without thinking she grabs onto him, and freezes, because it feels wonderful and forbidden and absolutely perfect.
She swallows hard, the ringing in her ears having nothing to do with the band or the crowd at this moment, and everything to do with his intense eyes, and it feels like time stands still. Unconsciously she leans closer, and she can see his eyes, for just a brief second, flicker down towards her mouth.
Then it's over and she's standing next to him, blushing furiously and completely unable to meet his eyes again. And she knows this is what she's been fighting all this time; this feeling she now realizes isn't going to go away.
It's scary, and exciting, and oh God... Dean.
The aftermath
She doesn't notice him until he sits down beside her on the bridge. She knows it's him without even looking.
Hey. You ok?
She is still somewhat numb.
Yeah.
She knows it happened, but can't quite recall the details. The only thing that's clear is the hurt and anger on Dean's face, and the relief she felt after she said the words.
I heard what happened.
It had been a long time coming.
Oh.
She can feel his eyes on her, but doesn't dare look at him. Right now it feels too dangerous. It's only been an hour or two after all.
Are you sure you're ok?
His voice is gentle, and it makes something stir inside of her. It feels good.
I'm fine. It was my decision.
What she doesn't say is that it really wasn't a decision. It just happened, and she didn't really have a choice.
Oh.
There's so much meaning packed into that single syllable, but she doesn't know how to respond to either of them.
Why did you bring me to that concert?
His question surprises her and she's quiet for a while, trying to think of a safe way to answer.
I thought you'd like it.
He nods, and she can't shake the thought that he's studying her.
I did.
Good.
They're silent for some time again. It's comfortable sitting there with him, looking out over the lake, sharing the silence.
Eventually she takes a deep breath, delving into dangerous territory.
I didn't expect it to go the way it did.
He doesn't say anything, but she can feel his eyes on her, and she finally turns to meet his gaze.
Nothing really happened.
She can think of a few things that did, but thinks that for him they might not have made such a big difference.
For me it did.
Her confession is quiet, but she's smiling.
Oh.
He has always had that way of looking at her that makes her feel like he's seeing into her very soul, and it's never been more true than now. But despite feeling more exposed than she ever has before, she also has never been more sure of herself.
I can't say that I'm sorry.
She can feel her smile brightening as his lips twitch into that amazing half smile that always makes her knees go weak. She's thankful she's sitting down now, because the effect has never been as strong as it is now.
Me neither.
They walk back into town in silence after that, not touching, but close enough that she would feel him beside her even if she closed her eyes. And she knows it's just a matter of time now. That's all it's ever been since she first saw him outside her room that night.
Just a matter of time.