DISCLAIMER: I am in no way shape or form affiliated with Warner Bros., Amy Sherman-Palladino, or their hit series "Gilmore girls." I do not own any of the following characters, or the settings in which they take place, or the scenarios.
SUMMARY: This first chapter takes place in Washington, D.C., at Rory's spot in the Washington Mall. She is just an hour away from departing for Stars Hollow, but is trying to gain some last minute conscience by reflecting, oddly enough, in front of the reflection pond.
PAIRING: Eventually, R/J.
RATING: PG
In the Blue of the Morning
One Last Time
Grey storm clouds loomed over head, rolling through the sky ominously, and off in the distance thunder could be heard.
From her seat at the edge of the reflection pond, Rory looked up at the sky and sighed. "At least it started out nice," she thought to herself as she curled her knees up to her chest and started hugging her arms around them.
She peered at her watch. 7:15 AM. She had to be at the train station in an hour - her train left at 8:30 for the five hour, grueling ride to Hartford, on which she would be accompanied, again, by Paris.
On any normal day in Washington, Rory would've sat on the steps of the Lincoln, and looked out over the mall, thinking. But not today. Today was not any normal day ... it was her last morning in Washington.
It wasn't so much that she was going to miss Washington, because she'd be back ... she knew she'd be back. She'd loved what she'd seen, and she wanted to show Lorelai. No, she wouldn't miss Washington, only the time it had bought her.
So today, Rory sat, knees curled to her chest, on the edge of the reflection pond. Peering in, Rory could see her mirror image perfectly. She looked even more carefully, craning her neck to look into her own eyes.
Had she changed? She hoped she hadn't - change was something that scared her now, more than anything. Rory wanted desperately to return to Stars Hollow the same way she left it - as the girl that, for some strange reason, Jess thought was special.
And then, she was distracted from her person reflection. By giggling.
At first, she felt a little disgruntled by it, but when she looked not far to her right, she noticed a couple. A brunette sitting in the arms of a dark-haired boy, beaming as he spoke to her.
Suddenly, Rory felt alone. More alone than she ever would've liked to, and her face became pensive, and she snapped it back forward again.
She wanted that. She wanted what they had. But, she didn't want it with Dean. She wanted more than a silly high school relationship based on kisses, dances, bracelets, cars, anniversaries and shoplifted cornstarch. She wanted to banter about literature. She wanted a connection - something deep, something more about the feelings on the inside than on outward appearance. She wanted it to be about the ties that bound two people together by strings from the heart, and not from forced hand-holding (although, hand-holding, not forced, was a very nice thing). She wanted to be able to look into someone's eyes and say everything she was thinking ... without saying a single word. And she wanted it to be with Jess.
Just as her mind was becoming completely lost in thoughts of Jess, the thunder rumbled in the distance.
"I don't suppose that's a good sign, huh?" Rory questioned the sky.
She looked sad for a moment, but suddenly a look of hope sprung on her face as she reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out a shiny new penny. Her face is pensive at first, but then determined, and she looked over at the Lincoln Memorial. She began to speak, softly.
"So, Mr. Lincoln, I think that ... over these past few weeks, you and I have come to an understanding. You let me sit on your steps, day after day and wallow in my own sorrows ... sometimes I cry, and then I get tear marks all over your suspiciously clean staircase - which by the way, I'm sure my grandmother would love to talk to your maid about - but, I just have this one last favor to ask you. I know you're ... well, dead, and all ... and that what I'm about to do would probably be a misdemeanor if I was caught, and I may possibly be mistaken for a terrorist ... but I'm just asking for one wish. That's all. And all I'm asking for is ... for everything to turn out ok. Eventually. I mean, I know they can't at first ... but, sometime, before I graduate ... I want things to be ok. And I want to know what it feels like to really, truly, fall in love ... real love, not puppy love."
Rory stood up from her spot and threw the penny into the reflection pond just as a startling voice rang out from behind her.
"Rory!" Paris bellowed.
Rory clenched her fists, and grimaced but took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was it. Just a few more hours, and she'd officially be free of Paris - at least for a little while.
"Paris," Rory said, turning to meet Paris's intimidating glare.
"I've been looking for you all over!" she ridiculed.
"You should've known to look here. I'm always here if you can't find me," Rory shot at her.
"I'm sorry that I don't record the places you like to go when you decide you want to play one of our rather often games of hide and seek, Gilmore, but incase you've forgotten we have a train to catch," she shot back.
Rory's mind reeled at the things to say to Paris as she looked directly in her eyes. Among the things on the list were "Do you know what this is like? Do you have a solution for me? Can you provide any advice, or hell, just a little consolation? Do you know what it's like to just want some time to think and not want people around to stare and analyze?"
But she didn't say anything of these things. Instead, she let Paris take her arm firmly in her hand and drag her back towards the bus station, where they would board the bus back to the dorms one last time, and get off at their stop, one last time. They would walk the path to their hall, and Rory would look up around her as Paris babbled, and think about how the trees were similar to those by the bridge in Stars Hollow, which would cause her to uncontrollably play over the events of she and Jess's picnic lunch in her mind at least a dozen times before they would some how, have made it to their door, with very little recollection on Rory's part. In Paris's frustration and anticipation, she would struggle with the lock on the door ("This stupid door! You'd think that the least they could do would be to put us in facilities with properly working doors!"), just like she had the very first day, and Rory would calmly take the key from her, and open it on the first try without a word. She would enter, sling her backpack over her shoulders, and drag her two giant, rolling suitcases out the door ... and be on her way back home, whether or not she was ready.
"I hope you don't think that I already got your bags ready by the door, because I didn't," Paris spoke firmly.
"Okay, Paris," Rory uttered in monotone.
"And I hope you realize that we need to be checked out by 7:45, and that it is 7:25 now, so if our sorry excuse for a bus is slow, and caught in traffic again, and we are late to check out, and leave a bad mark on Chilton's squeaky clean reputation, that I will personally make sure your name is put next to that mark," Paris continued.
"Okay, Paris," Rory repeated.
"I also hope that you recognize that you've spent a great amount of time here just thinking, and I know for a fact that it's not about our platform, or the student body, or how we can improve live at Chilton. I know I said all you had to do was sit there and look nice, but you might've been mistaken for a rock if you'd stayed there much longer," Paris took one last stab.
"Okay, Paris," Rory had given up on arguing with her. It wasn't worth it anymore, not now. So she simply succumbed to Paris's aggression, drowning her out and following the path to the already waiting bus, one last time.
The sky opened up and began to rain - at first rather slowly, and then increasing in speed. Rory stopped and looked up at the sky squinting.
"Rory!" Paris called, and drug her more hastily to the bus, where she gave her a small shove up the stairs, and pointed enthusiastically at a pair of free seats, where Paris gave her a push on the shoulders to hurry her in taking her seat. Her head leaned against the window, and she watched the sights of the Mall flutter past her, one last time.
"Time to go home," she sighed.
SUMMARY: This first chapter takes place in Washington, D.C., at Rory's spot in the Washington Mall. She is just an hour away from departing for Stars Hollow, but is trying to gain some last minute conscience by reflecting, oddly enough, in front of the reflection pond.
PAIRING: Eventually, R/J.
RATING: PG
In the Blue of the Morning
One Last Time
Grey storm clouds loomed over head, rolling through the sky ominously, and off in the distance thunder could be heard.
From her seat at the edge of the reflection pond, Rory looked up at the sky and sighed. "At least it started out nice," she thought to herself as she curled her knees up to her chest and started hugging her arms around them.
She peered at her watch. 7:15 AM. She had to be at the train station in an hour - her train left at 8:30 for the five hour, grueling ride to Hartford, on which she would be accompanied, again, by Paris.
On any normal day in Washington, Rory would've sat on the steps of the Lincoln, and looked out over the mall, thinking. But not today. Today was not any normal day ... it was her last morning in Washington.
It wasn't so much that she was going to miss Washington, because she'd be back ... she knew she'd be back. She'd loved what she'd seen, and she wanted to show Lorelai. No, she wouldn't miss Washington, only the time it had bought her.
So today, Rory sat, knees curled to her chest, on the edge of the reflection pond. Peering in, Rory could see her mirror image perfectly. She looked even more carefully, craning her neck to look into her own eyes.
Had she changed? She hoped she hadn't - change was something that scared her now, more than anything. Rory wanted desperately to return to Stars Hollow the same way she left it - as the girl that, for some strange reason, Jess thought was special.
And then, she was distracted from her person reflection. By giggling.
At first, she felt a little disgruntled by it, but when she looked not far to her right, she noticed a couple. A brunette sitting in the arms of a dark-haired boy, beaming as he spoke to her.
Suddenly, Rory felt alone. More alone than she ever would've liked to, and her face became pensive, and she snapped it back forward again.
She wanted that. She wanted what they had. But, she didn't want it with Dean. She wanted more than a silly high school relationship based on kisses, dances, bracelets, cars, anniversaries and shoplifted cornstarch. She wanted to banter about literature. She wanted a connection - something deep, something more about the feelings on the inside than on outward appearance. She wanted it to be about the ties that bound two people together by strings from the heart, and not from forced hand-holding (although, hand-holding, not forced, was a very nice thing). She wanted to be able to look into someone's eyes and say everything she was thinking ... without saying a single word. And she wanted it to be with Jess.
Just as her mind was becoming completely lost in thoughts of Jess, the thunder rumbled in the distance.
"I don't suppose that's a good sign, huh?" Rory questioned the sky.
She looked sad for a moment, but suddenly a look of hope sprung on her face as she reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out a shiny new penny. Her face is pensive at first, but then determined, and she looked over at the Lincoln Memorial. She began to speak, softly.
"So, Mr. Lincoln, I think that ... over these past few weeks, you and I have come to an understanding. You let me sit on your steps, day after day and wallow in my own sorrows ... sometimes I cry, and then I get tear marks all over your suspiciously clean staircase - which by the way, I'm sure my grandmother would love to talk to your maid about - but, I just have this one last favor to ask you. I know you're ... well, dead, and all ... and that what I'm about to do would probably be a misdemeanor if I was caught, and I may possibly be mistaken for a terrorist ... but I'm just asking for one wish. That's all. And all I'm asking for is ... for everything to turn out ok. Eventually. I mean, I know they can't at first ... but, sometime, before I graduate ... I want things to be ok. And I want to know what it feels like to really, truly, fall in love ... real love, not puppy love."
Rory stood up from her spot and threw the penny into the reflection pond just as a startling voice rang out from behind her.
"Rory!" Paris bellowed.
Rory clenched her fists, and grimaced but took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was it. Just a few more hours, and she'd officially be free of Paris - at least for a little while.
"Paris," Rory said, turning to meet Paris's intimidating glare.
"I've been looking for you all over!" she ridiculed.
"You should've known to look here. I'm always here if you can't find me," Rory shot at her.
"I'm sorry that I don't record the places you like to go when you decide you want to play one of our rather often games of hide and seek, Gilmore, but incase you've forgotten we have a train to catch," she shot back.
Rory's mind reeled at the things to say to Paris as she looked directly in her eyes. Among the things on the list were "Do you know what this is like? Do you have a solution for me? Can you provide any advice, or hell, just a little consolation? Do you know what it's like to just want some time to think and not want people around to stare and analyze?"
But she didn't say anything of these things. Instead, she let Paris take her arm firmly in her hand and drag her back towards the bus station, where they would board the bus back to the dorms one last time, and get off at their stop, one last time. They would walk the path to their hall, and Rory would look up around her as Paris babbled, and think about how the trees were similar to those by the bridge in Stars Hollow, which would cause her to uncontrollably play over the events of she and Jess's picnic lunch in her mind at least a dozen times before they would some how, have made it to their door, with very little recollection on Rory's part. In Paris's frustration and anticipation, she would struggle with the lock on the door ("This stupid door! You'd think that the least they could do would be to put us in facilities with properly working doors!"), just like she had the very first day, and Rory would calmly take the key from her, and open it on the first try without a word. She would enter, sling her backpack over her shoulders, and drag her two giant, rolling suitcases out the door ... and be on her way back home, whether or not she was ready.
"I hope you don't think that I already got your bags ready by the door, because I didn't," Paris spoke firmly.
"Okay, Paris," Rory uttered in monotone.
"And I hope you realize that we need to be checked out by 7:45, and that it is 7:25 now, so if our sorry excuse for a bus is slow, and caught in traffic again, and we are late to check out, and leave a bad mark on Chilton's squeaky clean reputation, that I will personally make sure your name is put next to that mark," Paris continued.
"Okay, Paris," Rory repeated.
"I also hope that you recognize that you've spent a great amount of time here just thinking, and I know for a fact that it's not about our platform, or the student body, or how we can improve live at Chilton. I know I said all you had to do was sit there and look nice, but you might've been mistaken for a rock if you'd stayed there much longer," Paris took one last stab.
"Okay, Paris," Rory had given up on arguing with her. It wasn't worth it anymore, not now. So she simply succumbed to Paris's aggression, drowning her out and following the path to the already waiting bus, one last time.
The sky opened up and began to rain - at first rather slowly, and then increasing in speed. Rory stopped and looked up at the sky squinting.
"Rory!" Paris called, and drug her more hastily to the bus, where she gave her a small shove up the stairs, and pointed enthusiastically at a pair of free seats, where Paris gave her a push on the shoulders to hurry her in taking her seat. Her head leaned against the window, and she watched the sights of the Mall flutter past her, one last time.
"Time to go home," she sighed.