Disclaimer: Recognizable characters, locations, dialogue, etc. are not mine.

Summary: "I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd." Rory asks Jess to stay. Jess commits a small act of vandalism, and the rest is history. Starts with 2x05. Literati.

A/N: I wrote a story a long time ago (it's On Your Porch and it's on FF if you want to read it) that attempted to *fix* things for Rory and Jess by *fixing* the dinner party in "Nick and Nora."

This is a variation on that theme.


Petty Vandals


"You just have to unlatch them and then push."

"Great. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Bail."

"No."

Not that he has her pegged as the bailing kind. Little Miss Reads-a-Lot has a disposition sunnier than Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm's and a collection of Harvard pennants to rival their admissions office. He wonders, then, at his disappointment, when he had only meant to tease her.

He presses on. "Why?"

"Because, it's Tuesday night in Stars Hollow. There's nowhere to bail to. The 24-hour mini-mart just closed twenty minutes ago."

"So we'll sit on a bench and stare at our shoes."

"Look, Sookie just made a ton of great food, and I'm starving, and though it may not seem like it right at this moment, it's gonna be fun. Trust me."

"I don't even know you," he says. And she clearly doesn't know him. He'd probably have more fun reenacting scenes from Stephen King novels, or dancing in public, or hanging out with Liz.

"Well, don't I look trustworthy?" She says it with a breathy kind of honesty. His eyes flick to the poem on her dresser, and he wonders how this girl reacted when she first read it. Did she skim past Ginsburg's talk of

-dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol
and cock and endless balls,-

Did she blush?

He scoffs. "No."

"W- well. Hmm." This throws her. She narrows her eyes at him in a borderline-withering stare, and he fights down a smirk. "You did just try to convince me to sneak out my bedroom window so we could go look at our feet."

"So, no foot fetish, then?"

"We've got a perfectly good front door."

"Huh." He wants to laugh. We've got a perfectly good front door.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear out of habit and flashes him another megawatt smile. "Tell you what. If you can make it through the meal without jumping out of any windows, I'll go look at feet with you after dinner."

"What if I roll? Can I leap out a window?"

"Only if it's from the second story, neighbor." At this, he is speechless. "Oh, and you've got to try Sookie's grilled cheese. Do we have a deal?"

"I knew I was right not to trust you." He relents and follows her out into the dining hall. There's a winning smile plastered on her face and the shadow of a grin on his as he tucks her copy of Howl into his back pocket.


"So, Jess, you got any hobbies?" Jackson dishes himself a second helping of mashed potatoes and passes them along to Sookie.

"Nope." Jackson's face falls a little at this, but Rory nudges Jess under the table. He glares at her. "I like music."

"Really? What kind of music? I'm a CCR guy, myself."

"All kinds."

"Rory, you should introduce him to Lane," Lorelai offers. "Just don't let Mama Kim see."

Rory grins. "I'm sure they'll run into each other at some town function or another."

"Oh!" Sookie exclaims. "Jess, I forgot to ask if you'd like some grilled cheese. I wasn't sure if you eat roast." Sookie moves to get up, but Lorelai raises a hand.

"Sookie, honey. I'm sure the roast is fine. Right, Jess?"

"Sookie's grilled cheese is amazing," goads Rory. "It cured my chicken pox in 5th grade."

"That's right! It was the paprika. Chickens hate paprika," Sookie says.

Jess glances sidelong at Rory, the hint of a challenge in his eyes, and deadpans, "Well, if it cured the chicken pox." Rory chortles, inaudibly, but Lorelai is fluent in Kid Code and senses that something else is going on between them.

"You know, it's probably gotten cold by now," Lorelai says.

"I'll make a new one!" Sookie waves a dismissive hand. She's up and in the kitchen in a flash.

"I should supervise," says Jackson as he follows.

A long silence falls on the table in their absence. Luke picks at the remains of his salad, Jess stares blankly ahead, and Rory looks...smug? Since when was Lorelai's progeny this smug.

"Ror, how was school?" she asks.

"Same as usual. The Paris parts were sucky, but I'm honing some superhuman compartmentalization skills."

"Be sure to include that in your Harvard essay," says Luke.

"Have you figured out Jess's school situation?" Lorelai asks him.

"Uh, he started Monday, I think."

"Go, Minutemen," Jess chirps, his sarcasm not lost on Lorelai.

"Well, Rory's not at Stars Hollow High, but I'm sure she can tell you where not to sit in the cafeteria."

"Doogie Hauser?" he asks Rory.

"Max Fischer. I go to private school in Hartford."

"That explains the books."

"Rory's always been a big reader. She's like the Tiger Woods of reading a lot. Aren't you?" Lorelai says.

Rory shrugs, more bashful than evasive. "I guess."

"When you were 12, you asked Sookie to make you a Yorick cake. Taylor tried to try her for Satanism."

"That's only because you rented the Mel Gibson Hamlet five times in a row."

Lorelai gasps. "I was trying to get my hair to do that Helena Bonham Carter flippy ponytail thing."

"And you still never figured it out."

"Satanist."

"Shallow."

"Grilled cheese!" Sookie chimes in as she and Jackson reappear with Jess's sandwich.

"See if you can guess the fifth cheese," says Jackson. Jess just looks at Rory like she owes him big.


"It was real great, you doing this for Jess and all." Luke had volunteered to help Lorelai clear the table. He's washing dishes, now, while she dries and pouts. Luke is completely oblivious to her mood.

"Any time."

"I still can't believe Liz would ship him off like this."

"You still don't know what he did?"

Luke shakes his head. "Whatever it was, I probably can't blame the kid. He's got Courtney Love for a mother."

Lorelai steps back and clutches at her imaginary pearls. "You know who Courtney Love is?"

"Rachel liked some of her stuff," he says, half apologetically. Lorelai shuts her mouth. "Anyway, point is, I'm glad it's not just me. Someone needs to show him the world's not entirely full of flakes."

She refrains from joking about the Frosted Flakes he bought on the eve of Jess's arrival. "Like I said. Any time." They share a brief, warm moment. She glances into the living room, where the teens are talking amiably by the mantle. "He likes Rory."

"I know, he said more than two words to her. I thought I was having an aneurysm."

"No, Luke. He likes Rory."

"What?" Luke nearly drops a plate.


"I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around the skull cake."

She knits her brows together. "What skull cake?"

"Yorick."

"Obviously, I know who Yorick is. How do you know who Yorick is?"

"Same thing. I rented the Mel Gibson Hamlet five or six times."

"Uh huh."

"Or was it Ethan Hawke?"

He's being evasive, she can tell, and she thinks somewhere way in the back of her mind that it's cute. She rolls her eyes at him good-naturedly, and he thinks it's maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen. He needs to be careful, though, or he'll ruin the little trick he's been plotting all night.

"So, foot time?" He asks. He wants to kick himself for how corny that sounded, but ironically, he'd only be looking more closely at his own feet.

"Let me go talk to my mom."

He doesn't question her need for permission.

Rory knocks on the kitchen wall as she enters. "Mom, I promised Jess I'd show him around town after dinner."

Luke looks like he's seen a ghost, and Rory eyes him precariously.

"This late? Half the town is closed by now," Lorelai says.

"Yeah, but it's Twinkle Light season and Al's got that sundae special."

Lorelai nods, wary but not protesting. "Just be back by 9. Oh, and could you pick up some plastic wrap at Doose's? We can probably live on these leftovers until Tuesday."

"Good thinking," he daughter says, beaming. She leaves.

"You just let her go?" Luke asks incredulously.

"Of course."

"But you just told me Jess wants to get with her."

"I didn't say it like that. Luke, I'm not gonna prevent her from talking to a boy just because he likes her. That's what Emily would do, and I am not Emily." A beat. "If anything, that would probably just encourage him."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. It just means I know guys like Jess, and they want what they can't have."

"You don't know anything about Jess. You just met him."

"I don't need to know him. I just know."

"I can't believe this. You offer to throw him a dinner party, and now you're trying to tell me he's a bad kid?"

"His mother shipped him to Connecticut!"

"So?!"

"So, good kids don't get shipped to Connecticut!"

"You are unbelievable."

"Think about it, Luke. You know that kid is trouble."

"And I am all he has!" He's shouting, now. He pulls the dish towel from his shoulder and throws it on her kitchen table before storming out.


"So, besides 'music' and not reading Hamlet, what do you do?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Hang out."

"Hang out?"

"What, I don't seem like a people person to you?"

She blushes when he looks at her. They're halfway to town by now, and Rory hadn't been kidding about the twinkle lights - the whole town is illuminated in soft blue-yellow light.

"Why did you want to bail?"

"Just felt like it."

"Was dinner really that bad?"

No, it wasn't. "Just not my thing," he says, figuring that's vague enough to suffice.

"What is your thing?"

"Not that."

She takes a deep breath. "Ladies and gentlemen, Holden Caulfield."

He laughs, and it's a real, honest-to-goodness laugh. No cynicism or anger or hidden agenda.

"You've read Catcher in the Rye," she says, suspicion in her brow.

"Wasn't Ethan Hawke in that, too?"

"There is no Catcher in the Rye movie."

"Huh."

They walk in silence for a moment, their breath rising in the early autumn chill.

"So, that's the gazebo."

"Huh."

"Over there is Al's Pancake World. They've got really good chicken tikka masala, but only every other Tuesday. And that next door is Andrew's books - it's no Strand, but he's got a surprisingly good selection of feminist literature. You've got your twinkle light store, the beauty supply, the Chat Club. That's Kim's Antiques - Lane lives there, you'll probably meet her at some point - and...here' Doose's."

Jess looks down at his wrist. There's no watch, but he pretends as much. "The whole town in less than 60 seconds."

"I have to-" she starts, pointing at the door to the market.

"I'll be over there," he says, motioning to the gazebo.

"You can come in," she says, snickering.

He nods and follows.

It's late, and the market is mostly empty. Rory doesn't bother to look for Dean - he's got basketball practice on Thursday nights - but she can't help feeling relieved knowing that he won't be around to see her here right now.

She makes a b-line for the plastic wrap, leaving Jess to wander around the store. He absentmindedly starts flipping cans of soup upside down.

"What are you doing?" she asks. He nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Just doing a little redecorating."

"If Taylor sees you, he will kill you. And I won't stop him."

"I'm hurt." He continues flipping the soup cans.

"Jess. Stop that."

"Why?"

"Because..." She can't think of a single reason that doesn't rhyme with Shmaylor Floosie. While she racks her brain for substantial objections, Jess grabs a can of soup and hands it to her.

"Come on, Gilmore. Live dangerously."

"This is stupid," she says, not letting go of the soup. "I should be institutionalized."

"I'll request the padded cell across the hall."

She smiles, slowly, unsure, then places the can upside down on the shelf. They proceed to invert all of Campbells and Progressos and a fair amount of the off brands before the night clerk comes by and gives them the stink eye. Rory quickly pays for the plastic wrap, and the two of them leave in a tizzy.

"I can't believe you got me to turn soup upside down."

"Just think, if Andy Warhol could see us now."

They head toward Luke's.

"We haven't even looked at our feet, yet," she says. They both pause, mid-stride, and look down.

And they keep on walking.

"That was underwhelming," she laments.

"I thought it was kind of fun."

"Well, now I know you have at least one interest."

"Two. Or did you already forget about the petty vandalism?"

"Ah, yes. The Great Soupdini." They stop, a block from Luke's. Rory fidgets with the Doose's bag. "I should get back."

Jess nods. "Want me to walk you?"

"I know the way," she says, and heads off.

"Night, Rory."

"Goodnight, Caulfield," she calls.

He's in so much trouble.


A/N: Reviews, even tiny little ones that let me know you read the thing, make writing more chapters so much easier. It's science.