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. I also do not have affiliations to the Wizard of Oz, or Cinderella.
SUMMARY: This is another intermittent chapter based on the thoughts of Rory after her confrontation with Jess.
PAIRING: Eventually, R/J.
RATING: PG
In the Blue of the Morning
Glass and Ruby Slippers
I've spent a lot of time staring at my shoes today. An awful lot of time. These shoes were brand new before I left for Washington, and I barely wore then since I was in my uniform for almost everything. But after looking at these shoes, and inspecting them thoroughly, I can't believe how dirty they have become. There is a huge grass stain on the side of my right shoe, and the tip of my left shoe is covered in dirt. Which got me to wondering why the fairy godmother ever gave Cinderella glass slippers. I mean, you can see right through them, and you are bound to see the dirt inside, and out of them. And the insides of shoes are always worse than the outsides. I mean, I can't speak personally about the pair of shoes I'm wearing now, mainly because I haven't taken them off. And I haven't taken them off because all I can do is stand here.
I seem to have lost the ability to move. My legs feel like they are stuck here, in this very position. Someone has nailed my feet to the ground, and put braces against the backs of my legs so I can't bend my knees. Yet, somehow they feel week.
He caught me. He caught me so I wouldn't fall. I wish I could've just stayed there, with him having caught me, in that position, for just a few hours. From where I was, I could take a small breath, and I could smell his cologne, and have a feeling of warmth rush over me. I could feel his hands and arms around my back, keeping me from falling, and sending sensations all over my back from his simple touch.
But I had to look up. And from that point on started one of the most awful confrontations I've ever been in.
I never wanted to be so cold, I never wanted to yell at him like I did. But suddenly, here on the sidewalk, from where Bootsy's - or any place of sanctuary - seemed so far, I felt a cold feeling rush over me, and suddenly all my emotions seemed to become overpowering and in control.
Of course ... there were a few emotions that didn't. There was the happiness of seeing his face, alone, that made me want to throw myself into his arms and hug him, and cry. Cry for happiness, cry for sadness, cry for all the nights and days when I missed him, and all the moments at the Lincoln. There was the excited emotion that made me want to kiss him, and take his breath away, and make him wonder why he is with ... Shane.
What kind of name is Shane anyhow? I've never met a girl named Shane? I've known a few guys named Shane ... there were at least two in my chem class last year. I guess it kind of fits though ... I mean, Jess is short for Jessica, which is most definitely not a guy name.
Oh, what am I saying? Nothing about them is supposed to fit. He's supposed to fit with me. He's supposed to be with me, not her. He's not supposed to want to be with her, we're supposed to want to be with each other.
He's not supposed to want to be with Shane ...
Especially when I came home completely content on the idea of breaking up with Dean.
I want to be with him. I want to go sit on the bridge, and sit by him, and think. Maybe that's why I can't move my legs ... because I'm afraid of where they will take me. And if I ended up there, I don't know that I could control these other emotions in the back of my head. The excitement. The happiness. And I also don't know what he's thinking. And even though I don't have a second wind this time ... I have a feeling that there is one for me in store somewhere.
I divert my attention from the place Jess was standing long enough to look towards Luke's. And then it seems that none of that matters anymore. Partially because people are looking strangely at me now ... but mostly because Dean and my mother are headed this way.
So I look down at my shoes again ... and now, I really wish they were ruby slippers ...
I close my eyes tightly and click my heels a little.
There's no place like home ... There's no place like home ... There's no place like home ...
But when I open my eyes, I'm still here, not in my house. And Dean and my mother are only closer to me. And I bet you that neither Cinderella or Dorothy were ever in a situation like this.
SUMMARY: This is another intermittent chapter based on the thoughts of Rory after her confrontation with Jess.
PAIRING: Eventually, R/J.
RATING: PG
In the Blue of the Morning
Glass and Ruby Slippers
I've spent a lot of time staring at my shoes today. An awful lot of time. These shoes were brand new before I left for Washington, and I barely wore then since I was in my uniform for almost everything. But after looking at these shoes, and inspecting them thoroughly, I can't believe how dirty they have become. There is a huge grass stain on the side of my right shoe, and the tip of my left shoe is covered in dirt. Which got me to wondering why the fairy godmother ever gave Cinderella glass slippers. I mean, you can see right through them, and you are bound to see the dirt inside, and out of them. And the insides of shoes are always worse than the outsides. I mean, I can't speak personally about the pair of shoes I'm wearing now, mainly because I haven't taken them off. And I haven't taken them off because all I can do is stand here.
I seem to have lost the ability to move. My legs feel like they are stuck here, in this very position. Someone has nailed my feet to the ground, and put braces against the backs of my legs so I can't bend my knees. Yet, somehow they feel week.
He caught me. He caught me so I wouldn't fall. I wish I could've just stayed there, with him having caught me, in that position, for just a few hours. From where I was, I could take a small breath, and I could smell his cologne, and have a feeling of warmth rush over me. I could feel his hands and arms around my back, keeping me from falling, and sending sensations all over my back from his simple touch.
But I had to look up. And from that point on started one of the most awful confrontations I've ever been in.
I never wanted to be so cold, I never wanted to yell at him like I did. But suddenly, here on the sidewalk, from where Bootsy's - or any place of sanctuary - seemed so far, I felt a cold feeling rush over me, and suddenly all my emotions seemed to become overpowering and in control.
Of course ... there were a few emotions that didn't. There was the happiness of seeing his face, alone, that made me want to throw myself into his arms and hug him, and cry. Cry for happiness, cry for sadness, cry for all the nights and days when I missed him, and all the moments at the Lincoln. There was the excited emotion that made me want to kiss him, and take his breath away, and make him wonder why he is with ... Shane.
What kind of name is Shane anyhow? I've never met a girl named Shane? I've known a few guys named Shane ... there were at least two in my chem class last year. I guess it kind of fits though ... I mean, Jess is short for Jessica, which is most definitely not a guy name.
Oh, what am I saying? Nothing about them is supposed to fit. He's supposed to fit with me. He's supposed to be with me, not her. He's not supposed to want to be with her, we're supposed to want to be with each other.
He's not supposed to want to be with Shane ...
Especially when I came home completely content on the idea of breaking up with Dean.
I want to be with him. I want to go sit on the bridge, and sit by him, and think. Maybe that's why I can't move my legs ... because I'm afraid of where they will take me. And if I ended up there, I don't know that I could control these other emotions in the back of my head. The excitement. The happiness. And I also don't know what he's thinking. And even though I don't have a second wind this time ... I have a feeling that there is one for me in store somewhere.
I divert my attention from the place Jess was standing long enough to look towards Luke's. And then it seems that none of that matters anymore. Partially because people are looking strangely at me now ... but mostly because Dean and my mother are headed this way.
So I look down at my shoes again ... and now, I really wish they were ruby slippers ...
I close my eyes tightly and click my heels a little.
There's no place like home ... There's no place like home ... There's no place like home ...
But when I open my eyes, I'm still here, not in my house. And Dean and my mother are only closer to me. And I bet you that neither Cinderella or Dorothy were ever in a situation like this.