Summary: It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided. Lit. Say Goodnight, Gracie AU.
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB/CW.
A/N: Thanks to Andra-ggfan and Watram for their encouragement.
He heard the diner door clang in its frame and looked back as he rounded the corner.
...
She had halted again on the sidewalk, biting her thumb before turning on her heel.
...
It didn't hurt, but it was a shock when they collided.
...
"God, sorry! I'm so - "
"What the - !"
She felt a tight grip on her elbow, focused, frowned and wrenched her arm back. It left him looking pained. Open-mouthed. A breath in, not a word out. She puffed out a short, frustrated breath of her own and folded her arms, watching as he closed his mouth and looked skywards. He didn't see her roll her eyes then shift her weight onto one leg, setting herself firm. Implacable.
"Fine, I'll -"
"Rory, I -"
He swallowed and she shook her head, exhaling another, louder, sigh. Her palm flicked out towards him. Speak.
He didn't. Instead, he narrowed his eyes to look over her shoulder into the distance. She started tapping her foot while he scanned around and behind them, but the square was almost deserted. Luke's dark-suited shape entered the church.
Finally, Jess turned to fall back hard against the brick. Biting down on the inside of her lips, hers was a reluctant half-turn towards him.
"I can't take you to prom."
Her folded arms tensed.
"Merton flunked me."
Bowing her head slightly, she pinched between hard-knotted brows.
"Sorry," he ended.
She turned to fully face him, her arms falling heavily to her sides. "I don't get it, Jess. It's like you're hell-bent on - -Wait, when'd you find out?"
He shrugged. "Trying to get tickets."
"So, all evening. That whole night. And you didn't even -" She shook her head. Her voice flattened. "You should have told me."
"Yeah, well ..."
"Well what, Jess? This is ridiculous." The red coat got unceremoniously dumped over the back of a memorial bench. "I can't even - -Something like this, you ... you tell someone. Otherwise, what's the point? Why are we together if you're just going to shut down or ... or slink off god-knows-where? I'm supposed to keep coming to find you?"
Her shoulders rose as she spoke until she dropped them with a sigh and shook her head once more. "It doesn't fix it, Jess. Kissing me to shut me up? It doesn't fix it. And -" Her arm shot out and whirled back, swiping the air beside her. "What was that anyway? What the hell did I do to deserve that? I'm not going to ... to just -"
"Nothing! Okay? It was nothing. You didn't - -It wasn't ... anything." His voice trailed off, but it rose when he added, eyes flashing, "I was coming after you, wasn't I?"
"Oh, you were?" The faux credulity was acrid.
"No," he shot back, "I went down there to get sucker-punched. Obviously."
She tossed her head but he continued, one foot pushing him off the wall, "Why'd you talk to him anyway? I mean, come on, jeez."
"What d'you mean 'come on'? I was -"
"You went to him. To him, Rory."
"I did not!"
His eyes rolled and he shook his head slowly, sneering, "Your knight in shining armor."
"That's not -"
"Hey, I'm the villain, right?" A dismissive hand sliced the air. "Perfect."
"Don't act the martyr."
"I think we just established I'm the villain, remember?"
"You're Walter Mitty," she said acidly.
"Sure."
"And I didn't go to him."
"Whatever you say." He wouldn't look at her.
"Yes, I do say." She stuck out her chin and shrugged. "Fine, he got the wrong idea -"
"Creep's got an imagination," he interjected. "I'll give him that."
"I was upset, Jess. You yelled at me for - -Oh, right. I don't even know why, do I?" She bit her lip and the salvo stopped. Freeing it, she spoke more calmly. "It was never going to ... it wasn't right. You have to know that, don't you?"
He sighed, still not meeting her eye, and she was vehement again. "Jess, you have got to know -"
"'Course I know, " he snapped out. Then, more quietly, he struggled to shape the words. "It wasn't - -I shouldn't've ... I'm sorry, okay?"
"Well," she hesitated. Transfixed by the eyes lifted with the final words. "Then ... then okay." She was surprised at how firm she sounded.
"Okay?"
"So, ... it wasn't -" The firm tone deserted her. "It wasn't because I -"
"No. Rory, look at me." One step closer and he stooped to catch her downcast eye. "I was a jerk to ... to yell like that. At you. I get it, okay? I was pissed but not at you. You know that, right?"
She nodded.
"And I," he continued, faltering, "I didn't mean to, like -" A sigh sent up, exasperated, towards the sky. "To make you think I was, you know..."
As he stared upwards, she had been staring up at him. Steeling himself, he looked her in the eye. "Rushing stuff or whatever. Or you. You know that's not - -That I'm not trying to -"
"I know."
"Okay then," he breathed.
She wrapped her arms around herself and examined the toe of her shoe for a second. His voice called her back up. "I'm sorry, okay? For ... for all of it."
He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, taking the sharp points of her elbows in his palms before gently running the length of her upper arms and settling.
She gripped the shirt on his shoulders in her fists and said, "This isn't fixed yet, Jess."
"I know."
"We need to work out what you're going to do." He nodded, watching her face. "Does Luke know?"
"Nope."
"Then we need a plan. Don't roll your eyes."
"Sorry."
"We can fix it though. But you've got to let me help. Let me in."
She shook him slightly, straining the fabric on his back until he said, "That's what you want?"
She frowned. "Don't be an idiot."
He sucked air over his lip and dropped "Ouch," with a smirk that softened her serious look and drew her hands up to fold behind his neck. He rested his on her waist and received the kiss she stepped closer to give.
Afterwards, he looked apologetic once more. "I know the prom thing was a big deal."
"I'll get over it," she replied, turning her mouth up at its corners to convince him. "And who knows, maybe Lane'll still make it, so I'll be on hair, make-up, paper-bag-for-breathing duty."
"Maybe?"
"Oh, she ... the party ... it's a long story."
"Huh."
"But as causes for cautious optimism go, a page from your deranged best friend that reads 'Prom Dave Bible Riddle Maybe' can only be good, right?"
"Sure. Why not," he said coolly. "But you don't want to go to whatever shindig's on at that fancy school of yours?
"I hadn't really ..." She paused, then smiled. "Are you asking me to my own prom?"
"Ah, jeez." He looked away and rubbed at the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so. You asked me to mine though, so you started it. And stop grinning. You're not funny."
"I did and I am. Maybe, then. It might be nice."
"Whatever. Let me know."
But the corners dropped. "Luke might ground you."
"Or kick me out."
"He wouldn't do that," she said, furrowing her brow. "Not if he cares about you, and I know he does. We'll figure something out that'll bring him round."
There was little conviction in his tired-sounding, "If you say so."
"Jess, you've got to want to. If you don't, then -"
"No, I do. I'm just ... I don't know." The slightest of shrugs as he gave up.
She laced her fingers together at the back of his head, tilting it slightly to look him pointedly in the eye. "It'll be okay."
"Huh. I almost believe you, you know that?"
"You should."
It was a rueful half-smile she got in return, so she volunteered, "I'll talk to Luke. I mean, if you want."
"You are very persuasive," he replied with a wry look at her, pulling her closer at her waist. "But I think I can handle it."
"Well, if you can't -"
"Then you're up."
"Okay."
Its mourning closed up in its church, Stars Hollow was quiet. He kissed her.
"Oh, God! I'm missing the funeral!"
She had pulled back suddenly, and he laughed under his breath as he said, "Too late to sneak in now."
"Yeah, it is. Dammit, I can't believe I did that. I'm awful."
"You're not awful," he assured her wearily.
"I'm going to hell."
"See you there, then."
"It's not funny."
"So stop laughing. Jeez, Rory, show some respect."
"Stop making me laugh, you jackass. I feel terrible."
"Hey, blame me if you like. I'm already on everyone's shitlist right now. One more thing won't make a difference."
"Practical and gentlemanly. Who could resist?"
He smirked and, still enfolding her, leaned back slightly to look at her, saying, "Okay, so, gimme fair warning. Your mom's gunning for me right now?"
"I ... um, I haven't said much. Not about - -That we argued."
An accepting nod. His "Okay," sounded light. Unconcerned.
But her anxiety gained momentum, forcing a rush of explanation, "She knows about the fight, though. The other fight. We met Luke because of the backpack and -"
"Rory, relax, alright? Place's the size of a stamp." He shrugged. "Cop-raided party's headline news."
"Yeah," she said, but quietly. They were both silent, still loosely holding themselves together.
Finally, he spoke. "You know, she's gonna want to know where you were. Now, I mean. 'Cos you're not there. So ... you should just -" Another shrug beneath her hands. "Tell her. Luke'll want to whine to her about me not graduating anyway, so you might as well get in first."
"Yeah. Probably." Still quiet.
"You know it's okay, right?" His earnestness shaded into high-browed mock-disgust. "It's not like I don't know you two are, like, freakishly close. Now personally, it's a little weird, but -"
"Gee, thanks," she said, her eyes brighter.
"You're welcome. But, listen, what I'm trying to say is ..." He paused and scratched his temple, looking away into the distance. Levelling his gaze at her, he began again. "Look, I'm guessing you'd hate lying or whatever. To her. About ... whatever."
He read the minute compression of her lips. "Yeah, thought so. So, you know ..." One shoulder shrugged it off. "Don't. I can deal." Then a sudden flare in his eyes' whites. "Unless she knows kung fu. Does she know kung fu?"
"Nope." Smiling now.
"Okay," he let out in an exaggerated breath. "Then I can handle it."
"You think you could take her?"
"I think I could duck. A lot. Hey, be my human shield? Pay's good."
"Okay, but she's scrappy. And her nails are pretty strong. Sharp too, actually."
"Great," thudded out dully. "Forewarned is forearmed, I guess."
"She'll calm down," she said, tips of her fingers moving assuringly on his back.
"Yeah. Right." He kicked his toe against a crack in the sidewalk, looking down. "She was always chatty with him though, wasn't she? Creep's probably filling her in on the juicy -"
"Jess, he wouldn't. At least, I don't think - -I'll set her straight, okay? She'll come around."
"Can't wait." Looking round he said, "Guess I should be minding the place, though. You want coffee?"
"You know, I really do."
A marching band struck up.
On the threshold of the diner, they had turned to see Taylor rush out of the church, arms windmilling. The distraction proved fatal as a trombonist canoned into a saxophonist, setting off the inevitable chain-reaction. A misunderstanding, a misstep, and suddenly the shape of the whole thing changed. The formation began to break down, and with some final strangled notes the music died out.
Taylor accosted the band-leader animatedly.
"Huh."
"Yep," said Rory, "that's pretty much all I've got, too."
They passed into the diner when Taylor started backing furtively towards the church making impotent gestures that said, at first, I am not to blame. Then, more frantically, calm down.
Jess pre-emptively flipped the sign: Closed. "David Lynch ever pass through this six-block psych. ward?"
"I'm starting to think he never left," she said, taking a seat at the counter.
After a few sips from the mug he'd filled, she asked, "Was it working?"
"What?"
"Well, not that you told me what's been going on with you recently -"
His eyes dropped and he scraped the counter-top with his thumb-nail.
Undeterred, she continued, "And hooray for the fall of the Iron Curtain, anyway - -But, Jess, we both know you could've done the bare minimum and just coasted until graduation if you wanted, so I'm pretty sure they couldn't flunk you unless you just weren't there. So did you skip? To work?"
"Yeah." Slight shake of his head as his eyes rolled up. "Can't believe I missed a month."
"A month?" It was a warning look from him and she added, "Sorry, but a month? What did they say?"
"Got to take the year over." Weary. Low.
"But ... I don't - -What about summer school?"
"Not enough, apparently."
"So?"
"So, I don't know." His head fell back and he said to the ceiling, "Really don't want to go back there."
"It might not be so bad."
The blank expression shot down at her as he said in a flat voice, "Right."
"Well, then there are other options." Her fingernails sent up tiny notes of ringing china as she thought. "You could ... transfer? Somewhere local?"
"Yeah, 'cos that worked out so well last time."
"Jess -"
"No, really. Sure places'll be begging to have me, too."
Her small mouth cinched at this, only "Hmm," escaping.
"I can hear it now," he said, and in an unmodulated voice, he spoke words he imagined for her. "Jess? Oh, he's a senior. No, in high school." He shook his head in disgust, breathing out, "Jesus."
"Well, my mom dropped out, and she got her GED." Her shoulders rose high as she finished, "There's that."
He sighed, one hand on the back of his neck as he stretched it painfully to one side. "Maybe," was the reply that dragged itself out.
"You should come over later. I'll look into some stuff today, and together we can draw up some ideas."
"Okay," he nodded, then winced. "Luke's out tonight."
"I'll come here then."
"Sure?"
"Sure." She smiled and he returned it, leaning an elbow on the counter.
Something caught his eye over her shoulder. "What the hell's going on over there?"
She swivelled on her seat, eyes widening. "Is that ... the casket?"
He frowned. "They're -"
"They're walking Fran round the square," she said in a hushed voice.
Dumbfounded, he quirked an eyebrow at her, half-whispering to follow her lead, "Why?"
She shrugged.
"And what's your mom doing? Is she ... is she hitting on the pall-bearer guy?"
"No-oo! She wouldn't! Would she?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe it's something to do with the Dragonfly," she offered, fixated on what was happening beyond the glass.
"Huh. She wouldn't sell, right?"
Rory nodded. He gestured towards the door, cocking his head. "Go find out, if you want."
"Um, no," she said emphatically. "Would you want to be associated with the ... the scene that's being made by - -Oh, jeez! I'm pretending it's not happening." She turned away, lowering her head towards the counter and hiding her eyes with her hands either side of her face.
"Yeah, so Kirk's not pinned under the casket, then."
"Oh. Dear. God."
He smiled down at her, resting his chin on one hand, his elbows on the counter. She laid a hand on top of his, and he interlaced their fingers.
Outside, it was seen to that things were righted once more, and the procession got back under way. With what solemnity it could muster, it turned a solemn corner. Soon, it had passed out of sight.
Not that they noticed.
A/N: Thanks for reading. There's more (uh, a lot more) if you're interested, which I'm proofing right now. Anyway, thanks again.
