Title: Recalling the Best "Worst" Times (Part 3) Author: Sirius Pairing: R/J Eventually Summary: Jess is back in New York, thinking back on his times in Stars Hollow. He hated it there, in that cookie-cutter town, but now it was the only place he wanted to be. Rating: PG

Walking back to my apartment now brings back the memory of my picnic with Rory. The overcast sky above me now changes into the sunny day it had been then, and I imagine I'm there. But, if I really were there, I would have done things differently. The first mistake I made was bidding for her. I mean, I wanted to have lunch with her but I made her mad, and I made Dean mad. Heck, I probably made the whole town mad.

"Five dollars, do I hear ten dollars?" Starting it out at five measly dollars? For a date with Rory? He's just flat-out clueless. A date with Rory is worth so much more.

"Ten dollars." This is where I hop in and start my little fun.

"Okay, I have ten dollars. Do I have fifteen?"

"Twenty." And here I go again.

"Twenty dollars, do I hear twenty-five?"

"Thirty." Now Dean jumps in. Funny it took him so long; she is his girlfriend . . .

"Okay, see, you boys don't seem to understand the way this thing works." Taylor, trying to run things smoothly, butts in.

"Forty dollars." And me again.

"Fifty dollars." Now we're talking big money.

"Excuse me, have either of you noticed how tiny this thing is?" Taylor didn't understand that we didn't want what was in the basket, we wanted the girl that came along with it.

"Seventy-five." And me again.

"Now we're not talking cents gentlemen, we're talking dollars remember." We're not stupid Taylor.

"Eighty." Dean hesitated on that one and for a minute I thought I had it won. I didn't think he had eighty dollars to spend on a basket.

"Eighty? Eighty dollars?" Taylor just could not get it through his head that we wanted this date.

"Ninety." Here's where I get really bold.

"Ninety dollars, is that correct?" I said it didn't I?

"Okay, we've got ninety going once, ninety dollars going twice . . . sold to the nice young hoodlum in the back for ninety dollars." He called me a hoodlum! I feel so respected!

So that's the first time that day I screwed up. It just keeps going though . . . I walked up behind Rory and Dean while they were fighting about me and got both of them really pissed off.

"I gotta tell you, of all the nutty barn raising shindigs this town can cook up, this one wasn't half bad."

"Glad you enjoyed it."

"Yes I did. So shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Shall we go?"

"Go where?"

"Go eat."

"Excuse me?"

"The person who buys the basket wins the company of the person who makes the basket for lunch. Basket, basket maker, guy who didn't bring enough money." I pointed around the circle of the three of us and put emphasis on that last part, thinking if I ticked him off a little more, Rory and I could go and he'd leave us alone.

"You think this is funny."

"Well, it's no Lenny Bruce routine but it has its moments."

"Bye Jess." Like that was gonna get rid of me. I just spend ninety dollars on a basket and I'm not going anywhere unless Rory comes with me.

"Where you going?" So I pretend to be stupid.

"You're the one who's going."

"Oh, as soon as Rory is ready."

"She's not going with you." I hate the way he's so possessive of her. If she didn't want to go she would have said something, but she didn't. She can speak for herself.

"Really, is that true?" This was either rhetorical or aimed for Rory, but no, Dean answered for her. Again.

"Yes, it's true."

"Excuse me Edgar Bergen, I think I'd like Charlie McCarthy to answer now." And I did. I didn't know how Rory felt about this, so I needed her to tell me it was okay.

"Shut up."

"Dean." This is where Rory jumped in and I smiled to myself. She wanted to go. Or at least, she knew it was right to go . . .

"What?"

"Well."

"Oh, come on!"

"It's tradition."

"I don't believe this."

"It's true. My mother and I have been doing this every year since we moved here." I wondered who bought her basket last year. Cuz, if Dean didn't know that, he hadn't bought it. My guess was Luke bought Lorelai's, but who bought Rory's? I drag myself back to reality to hear Dean drone on and on.

"So buck tradition."

"Are you kidding? Do you remember how mad Taylor was when I was sick and I couldn't go to the turkey-calling contest?" She has lived in a small-town atmosphere for way too long.

"This isn't school, you're not getting graded."

"Just don't make this into a big thing."

"Don't go."

"Oh geez man, she's not shipping off to 'Nam." I jumped in and made what I thought was a very funny comment. He didn't . . .

"You SO need to shut up now." Oh, like that's gonna work.

"Look, Dean, it's a picnic, it's lunch. We'll sit, we'll eat, it's over."

"No."

"What do you think's gonna happen?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like to hear this one also." He's always so protective, but he never tells his reasons behind it.

"I don't want you to go." And I guess he won't start now.

"Dean!"

"Fine, forget it, go." By the look on her face when he walked off in a huff, I could tell she was so mad at me right now, it would take a long time for us to break the ice.

I told her there was nothing there, meaning he had no way to back up his argument and she knew. She said she wasn't going to go after him because it wouldn't do any good so we left to go find a place to eat. When I asked her where she wanted to eat, being the gentleman that I am, she said she didn't care so I took the initiative and took her to the one place I liked in Stars Hollow. It later turned into "our" place, in my eyes at least.

"Where are you going?"

"Thought you didn't care." She had said she didn't care, but if she changed her mind, I'll go with that.

"I'm not jumping in the lake." Wasn't planning on asking you to.

"No underwater dining, got it."

"Now what?"

"Now we sit."

"Here?"

"Yup."

"On the bridge, that's where we're gonna eat?"

"Yup."

"Okay."

"Yeah, I like this place."

"Wow. A place in Stars Hollow you actually like. I'm stunned." Under normal circumstances I would have had a sarcastic come back, but I didn't. This time was supposed to be getting her to tolerate me.

"It's got some good memories. You see right over there?" I pointed to an unmarked milestone in my life.

"Yup."

"That's where Luke pushed me in."

"Huh." I thought that was my line.

"Yeah."

"It's nice."

"It is." I stare at her and I hope she gets the clue that it wasn't the bridge I was talking about.

"So why'd you do it?" She changed the topic, a sign of her being uncomfortable, not good.

"Do what?" If I ever see Rory again I will make a note to stop playing dumb around her. When I look back on it, it sounds so stupid.

"Outbid Dean like that."

"I don't know. I guess it started as a joke just to bug him, but then he just got so mad, you know? And he is so tall, and I just was looking at him and he's standing there all tall and mad and I just . . .I don't know. It was . . .it was really funny." An honest answer.

"It wasn't funny."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't intend to do it. Does that make you feel any better?"

"I just don't wanna be in a fight with Dean." She has more reason that just that to not want to be in a fight with Dean, I can see it in her eyes, but she doesn't elaborate.

"I'm sorry about that. You wanna push me in the lake? It's cathartic, I hear."

"Hmm, maybe in a little." Good, for a second I thought she was seriously considering it.

"Whatever. So why don't we open this thing?"

"Go ahead."

This is when I open the basket. There is not a single thing in there that I would remotely consider eating. When I tell her this, she claims she made it for Dean. I hold up a container and ask her if Dean would have eaten it. It was gooey and a chartreuse color. She said he would have so I try a bite, thinking I could prove myself to her. It has the worst taste I could ever imagine. It was as tangy as pickles and mustard and the texture of it didn't help much either. It was rubbery like noodles and seemed to have some kind of glue on it. I make a face and I think I saw her crack a smile.

"Dean is an idiot."

"Dean never would've fallen for that." My guess is he would have, but that's just me.

"Ah, ha ha." I laugh and spit it out in the lake.

About half an hour later, we were bickering like I hoped we would be. Discussing books seemed to be a good base to our relationship. I couldn't believe she was as serious about books as I was, I can't believe anyone is. That's one of the many things that make Rory special. We were talking about Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, one of her favorites and my least favorites. She had only been ten the first time she tried to read it.

"Yeah but I didn't understand a word of it, so I had to reread it when I was fifteen."

"I've yet to make it through it." It felt so good to have someone to be able to talk to here.

"Really? Try it. The Fountainhead is classic."

"Yeah, but Ayn Rand is a political nut."

"Yeah, but nobody could write a forty page monologue the way that she could."

"Okay, tomorrow I will try again, and you will . . ." I leave her hanging, reminding her of something she already promised me to do.

"Give the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance. Yes, I promise."

"You know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you." Joking with her is another thing I love. She took it a lot more seriously than I had intended her to, but she understood exactly what I had meant.

"Why are you only nice to me?" The way she had looked at me told me she wanted a straight answer. If I had given it to her then, maybe I wouldn't be where I am now.

"Excuse me?"

"An hour ago you were totally screwing with Dean and now you're totally nice to me."

"You see, it's the screwing with Dean - that's an important step to getting here so that I can be nice to you." That was honest, but not what she had wanted.

"So it was a plan." I'm caught!

"What?"

"The whole bidding on my basket, it was a plan."

"Okay, I'm officially starving." I change the topic, hoping we can take the spotlight off me for a minute and move along to something else.

"And officially evasive."

"Come on, I'll get you a pizza." Yay, actual food!

"Answer my question." Um, no thanks.

"Do you like pepperoni?"

"Not going to, are you?" No, don't think so, thanks anyway though.

"We can just get it on half if you want."

"Okay, I give, let's go."

"If you insist."

By the time I'm done recalling this memory, I've made it to my apartment building. I stick the key into the lock and open the door, revealing a tall set of stairs that lead up to my floor. I take them two at a time, incredibly tired and wanting to go to bed. I want to go back to Stars Hollow so badly. I want more memories like that one to be able to recall. I want Rory. I can't go back though, not after what I did. I know she'll hate me. She has to hate me. After that night, that horrible night that had started so well and ended so badly, how can she not hate me . . .?