Author's note: (in response to lillitgirlx2's question)- sorry! I know I've meddled with some things, but I just rewrite the episodes in my mind and let them take the path I want, so sometimes I forget about the actual order of events in the seasons. I'm drunk with power!
So anyway…yes, it takes place after the car accident. No, Jess did not go to New York, because I love Jess/Rory and would've never had him leave. Rory and Dean aren't dating…and Dean doesn't really exist in my world of Gilmore Girls shifty eyes
And thank you all so much for reviewing! Nothing gets the creative juices flowing quite like a good ol' fashioned review.
Chapter 3
"So, what are we watching?" I asked, leaning back against the couch comfortably. She triumphantly thrust a movie towards me, grinning widely, and I nodded in approval.
"Holy Grail. Nice choice."
"You trusted the selection to a true movie master."
"You can't be as good as Kirk," I replied with a serious expression.
"What?"
"He's the president and only member of the Stars Hollow Video Rental Club."
"You lie," she giggled, and I shook my head.
"Dead serious."
She laughed, tossing the remote to me and leaning forward to grab her pie.
"That's some information I'll have to share with my mom when she gets back."
"You couldn't have started it yourself?"
"The pie cannot be kept waiting," she replied, "Plus, I'm injured!"
"My mistake."
"You would actually have me exert myself, my poor hand susceptible to another injury?"
"Already starting," I glared playfully, before watching her struggle to balance the plate on her cast, her fork in her other hand.
I sighed, staring at her sadly. I had broken her. This gorgeous, perfect woman, and I had harmed her.
"What's wrong? I can pick another movie if you want, I just thought…everyone likes Monty Python," she finished quietly, staring at me worriedly. I shook my head.
"It's just…it looks painful. Awkward."
"My arm?"
"Yeah."
"It's okay. I'm getting used to it."
I eyed her skeptically, and she shrugged.
"Well, you're here. I'll make you do anything I can't."
"Deal," I smiled, and she quirked an eyebrow in amusement.
"Dance!"
"Excuse me?"
"Dance, quickly, before the good part starts! Like our own little previews!"
"A preview of what, exactly?"
"Um…awesomeness," she said, shooting me a look as if I was the crazy one.
"I'm not dancing."
"Come on!"
"Rory," I laughed, and she put her pie down, distracted in her pursuit. Jess: one, pie: zero.
"You're too sexy for this party."
"No way I'm disco dancing," I finished, and she burst into a peal of laughter.
"You knew it!"
"I'm a child of the 80s."
"I can't believe you knew it," she snorted, and I laughed, shrugging slightly.
"Well, it does happen to be my personal anthem."
"I'm sure."
"Seriously, I can't even walk into parties anymore."
"Stop," she laughed, smacking me playfully. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation her fingertips left on my arm, her cheeks flushed red from the laughter.
I tried not to think of other ways I could make her cheeks flush.
Make other noises escape from those perfect lips.
Bad Jess, I scolded, as she returned her attention to the screen. I let my gaze linger on her face for a moment, before turning my eyes back to the movie as well.
--
"God, that was great," she smiled, finishing up the last of her pop before setting it back down on the coffee table.
"I just can't believe how much you ate," I chuckled, and she looked at me innocently.
"I'm not allowed to have dessert?"
"The two slices of pie was dessert. A bag of marshmallows, 3 packs of M&Ms and a huge bag of Red Vines are taking it a bit far."
"Never!" she gasped, "Junk food cannot be 'taken too far'."
I laughed, shaking my head, "You're just lucky I'm not telling Luke. He'd force feed you spinach and leeks."
"You wouldn't be so cruel."
I shrugged, smiling slightly.
"Hey!" she exclaimed suddenly, hopping up, "Take the DVD out and meet me in the kitchen!"
I stared at her disappearing figure in confusion, hearing some rattling in the kitchen. Rory couldn't cook. There wasn't anything in that kitchen besides take out and random, inedible things.
Nothing good could come of this.
I quickly took the DVD out, replacing it in its case and tossing it onto the coffee table, before walking into the kitchen after her.
"Rory?" I asked, before being greeted with a wonderful sight.
She was rummaging in one of the lower cabinets, on her hands and knees. Providing me with quite a pleasant sight.
I would be praising god if I wasn't an atheist.
I finally shook my head, clearing it from inappropriate thoughts, before clearing my throat.
"What're you doing?"
"Looking!"
"Uh…" I laughed, "Okay. For what, may I ask?"
"We're making coffee milkshakes."
"How did this suddenly pop into your head?"
"Well, I remembered earlier, mom and I were shopping in Hartford. And there was this coffeeshop that was advertising these incredible-looking coffee milkshakes, but we were running out of time, and we wanted to get to a shoe sale. And so it was a choice that we were-"
"Rory!" I cut off, laughing, and she stopped.
"Sorry. Babble?"
"A bit. You don't have anything to make them with."
"We have coffee."
"Okay, that's black coffee, not exactly a milkshake."
"Oh, we have ice!"
"Iced coffee. Still not creamy."
"So we need…"
"Ice cream."
She nodded, smiling slightly.
"I don't think we should drive, though. That usually yields negative consequences," she said, holding her hand up.
"Walking is better," I smiled, trying to quench the sadness inside. This whole town thought I was just some hooligan, that I didn't care what I had done. They didn't know how damn guilty I felt about what happened. How I wish I could take it back.
"Jess?"
I looked up, startled to hear her voice interrupting my inner monologue.
"Sorry, spacing out."
"Let's go get some ice cream, and then you're making milkshakes."
"I am?" I asked with a grin, and she nodded.
"One handed blending is a dangerous thing. It really shouldn't be attempted."
"You're right. Lead the way, Robbins."
"Robbins?"
"As in Baskin Robbins?"
"Sorry. I don't understand your crappy references."
I laughed, glancing over at her before I could stop myself. It was horrible, how obvious I was around her. I was just lucky that she was the most naïve person on this earth.
"Destination- reached."
I opened the door, letting her walk into Doose's ahead of me, and she raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Aren't we a gentleman?"
"I try, ma'am," I winked, speaking in a Southern accent, and she laughed.
"Come on, Taylor's probably wanting to close soon."
"It's not that late."
"It is to him," she replied, rolling her eyes. We made our way down to the ice cream aisle, debating a few flavors before settling on classic vanilla, and also stopping to buy some sort of coffee-chocolate syrup that was supposed to make iced coffee.
"It'll work on milkshakes. They always use syrup and stuff for flavoring," I explained, and she nodded solemnly.
"Yes, sir."
We paid for the items, making our way back to her house quickly before the ice cream melted.
"You know it's going in a milkshake, so it really doesn't matter if it melts," I reminded her, panting slightly by the time we reached her porch.
"Oh," she said, laughing slightly, "Didn't think of that. Anyway, we're here- time for shakes!"
We went into the kitchen, and she plopped up onto the counter, sitting and watching me work.
I scooped some ice cream, putting it in the blender I had found in a cabinet, looking like it hadn't been used for quite some time.
"More!" she insisted, and I rolled my eyes.
"Do not question the chef."
"Sorry, Ramsay, don't mean to stifle your creative vision."
"Thank you," I smirked, pouring some of the coffee syrup over it, and splashing in some milk. I was glad I had thought to grab milk at the last minute, assuming they wouldn't have any. Normal people would. The Gilmore household- not unless it was in ice cream form.
I added a few finishing touches before blending it, and she clapped her hands excitedly, the sound audible over the loud blender.
"Success! I'll grab cups."
She found two glass mugs, more suitable for beer than for ice cream, and presented them to me proudly.
"Perfect."
I nodded, waiting until the drink had reached the right consistency before pouring it into the two cups, making sure to give her a little bit more.
"Aww, you old softie," she grinned, grabbing the glass that I had meant to be hers, "Thanks."
I tossed the blending pitcher in the sink and returned the base back to its home, collecting dust in one of the lower cabinets. I took a sip of the milkshake, shrugging slightly.
"Not bad."
"It's good!" she smiled, taking another sip. A bit of the shake remained on her pink lips, stuck on the corner of her mouth.
"Got a little something," I smiled, laughing softly as she flushed cherry red once more.
"Where?" she asked self-consciously, reaching up and patting her cheeks. I chuckled again, raising an eyebrow.
"You think you missed that badly?"
"Well, I don't know," she defended, "Just tell me where it is."
I stared at her silently for a moment, her blue eyes staring back into my brown ones, questioning. I reached out slowly, not altogether surprised when her hand didn't reach up to stop me, brushing away the liquid from the corner of her mouth. I let my finger stray, slowly brushing across her lower lip, to the other corner. Her warm breath lingered on my fingertip, her eyes widening slightly in confusion.
"Jess," she breathed, as we remained motionless for a few seconds, until I quickly took a step back.
"All gone," I smiled, nervously taking a sip of my drink.
God, she had no idea how irresistible she was. No idea.