I don't own Gilmore Girls. Though I do own Season One :) Everything up to an including the episode where Jess tells Rory he loves her has happened. Nothing after that.

The Beginning

"I'm fine mum, I can't talk long, I'll call you again tomorrow. I love you."

Her finger pressed down on the button, ending the call. The ring of the dial tone sounded harsh and unforgiving to her ears. She glanced at the parking lot. Deserted save for a lone car parked in the shadows beyond the solitary street lamp. The light from it illuminated the cracks and potholes scattered in the pavement. The garbage too was brought into focus against the dark background from the lights within the store. The K-Mart in which she stood was closing. The last of the late night shoppers were being told to leave. She looked at the phone again and sighed. She hated payphones, so dirty. Yet she couldn't help but think of the thousands of other people who had used this phone before her. Probably riddled with disease she thought.

Picking up the few bags at her feet she stepped outside. The cool summer air met her face, a relief from the air-conditioning inside. It was too soon for that, and she was grateful for the night air. The red K-Mart sign had run out of batteries so the only letter showing red was the A. Rory Gilmore rubbed her tired shoulders and tried to figure out how exactly she ended up here.

The end of her first year at Yale had come. She finished a week ago. There was no more stress about deadlines and homework, she was free to relax. Of course though something had to come up and the relaxation period disappeared. She was restless and instead of finding a summer job, she set out on a journey that had been calling to her.

Flash Back

"I just need to leave. I'm sorry, I know it's selfish of me, but I got to go, I need to know, need to know what he's like. I'm leaving in the morning. I may be back after summer, I don't know, I'll call you."

End Flash Back

He did call. Once. That was it, and she had had no further contact with him up until three months ago. Suddenly without warning he was there. He was there and she felt everything that she had bottled up inside her start to seep through her veins again. She felt her knees go weak and her heart missed a beat, but she stood there and told herself to stay strong, for she didn't want to be hurt again. And when he stood before her and told her what she had always wanted to hear she nearly broke, nearly gave in. But before she had a chance he left. Again. Just drove away. This time though he didn't disappear completely. He left little reminders, clues almost, as if he knew what was going on inside her mind. He left them to entrance her, as if to say when you are ready, I will be waiting.

After he left her standing there in the middle of the road she had walked home in shock. She barley uttered a word to her mother before she stumbled to her room and collapsed on her bed. When she rolled over to look at the clock she saw it. It was her first clue. The first connection. Lying on the side table next to the clock which read 10:57 PM, was a book. What else. She picked it up and smiled. The edges were well worn, signaling that the book had been read many times. His tidy print covering pages, telling her his thoughts. She knew this book well. He had told many times of his desire to travel across the country. Using On The Road as his guide.

Turning on the light she began to read. Not just the book but his notes. She took careful consideration of the address written on the first page. An address for New York.

A couple days later there was a phone call. He didn't speak. But she knew it was him. she thanked him for the book. That was the extent of the conversation.

A week after that there was a post card. Written on the back was a single sentence. "Addresses are given to us to conceal our whereabouts" –Saki.

For the next two months there had been numerous postcards. Each from a different city. Each with a quote. Some which she understood, and some which she was completely baffled by.

"The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact a return to the idealistic past." – Robertson Davies.

"All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why." – James Thurber

While at school she just put the post cards away after quickly glancing over them. She hadn't had the time for careful consideration. But when she was finished and sitting at home, she took them out and placed them in front of her. The last post card with the quote from James Thurber made the internal battle she was having with herself come to an abrupt end.

Her mother understood. Although she secretly, or maybe not so secretly thought that he was a waste of her time. But the look on her daughters face convinced her that it was something that needed to be done. After hours of planning, and endless instructions, she set out to follow him. The post cards being her guide. New York was her first stop.