Defending Bjork

Chapter 14: Ehn! Wrong Answer!

Disclaimer: As always, the characters, setting, etc. of this story belong to ASP, her disciples, the WB, and anyone else with some semblance of legal ownership. Some lines in this story are from real episodes. That means I didn't write them. Hehe.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my oldest brother, Mike, because he's the only person on the planet who makes me think that basketball might not suck. To those of you who have been waiting for a certain event to take place in this fic, I have two words: Have Patience. All good things come to those who wait. That said, enjoy! ~Becka


The smell of eggs drifted into the living room, pulling Rory into a state of half-consciousness. Caught somewhere between dreams and reality, she concentrated on the scent and tried to determine which side it belonged on. Slowly, she opened her eyes and allowed her surroundings to come into focus. She soon found herself looking at the world from an ant's point of view – everything looming above her and around her, unnecessarily large.

For a moment, she let herself enjoy the unusual angle, noticing things she never had before, like the small scratches worn into the legs of the nearby end tables, a result, no doubt, of her mother's former obsession with furniture rearrangement. Small, ragged threads dangled down from the bottom of the couch. Rory made a mental note to trim them the next time she found herself at floor level. During the night, her pillow had slipped out from under her head, and the carpet was rough against her cheek. Despite her best efforts, she found herself focusing on it and getting irritated by the slightly itchy sensation.

Sighing, she pulled herself up to a sitting position. The eggs' aroma hit her full force now, and she blinked, dazed and a little confused. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the other sleeping bags. Paris was still asleep in one of them; the other two lay open, empty and rumpled. Rory dragged herself to her feet and shuffled sleepily towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Snoozy!" Lorelai smiled, glancing briefly at her daughter's drowsy face before turning back to the stove. Rory collapsed into a kitchen chair and watched her mother for a moment. There was a frying pan on the stove in front of her, and she had a spatula, like a dangerous weapon, clenched tightly in her right hand.

"What is she doing?" Rory asked worriedly, glancing at her best friend.

"Making breakfast," Lane responded from her perch on the countertop. "Well, sort of."

"It doesn't look like Pop-Tarts."

"It isn't," Lane confirmed. "It's an omelet."

"My mother is making an omelet?" Rory asked.

Lane smiled. "She's trying."

Rory folded her arms on the table in front of her and then flopped her heavy head down on top of them. "Not good," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Hey!" Lorelai protested. "I resent that. Watch and marvel!"

Rory peered up at her mother but didn't lift her head.

Like a surgeon, Lorelai held out her hand. "Plate!" she said authoritatively.

Lane handed her a plate.

"Okay," Lorelai said, more to herself than to anyone else. "Now I just sort of… flip it…" She angled the plate and contorted her arms, trying to find an easy way to get the omelet onto the plate. Not finding a satisfactory approach, she lifted the pan and tried strategically positioning it over the plate.

Rory giggled. "Auditioning for Cirque de Culinary Soleil?"

"Hold on. This is not as easy as it looks," Lorelai replied, tilting the pan slightly. Cautiously, she slid the spatula under the far side of the egg. "Okay, on the count of three… One…," she began.

"Two," Lane continued, eyeing the pan nervously.

"Three," Rory finished, her full attention now on her mother's antics.

At the count, Lorelai forcefully slid the spatula all of the way under the omelet and tried to flip it onto the plate. Half of it stuck to the pan, and the rest crumbled into small pieces. There was a pause as Lorelai stared at the broken omelet in disbelief. Lane and Rory, meanwhile, tried very hard not to look amused. After a moment, Lorelai scraped the rest of the egg off the pan and scooped it onto the plate. "Scrambled eggs, anyone?"

"It was a nice effort," Lane assured her, taking the plate from her hand.

Paris entered the kitchen and sat down across from Rory. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Lane frowned. "And suddenly I'm not so hungry."

"Did you put something in my food last night?" Paris accused, her eyes on Rory.

"No."

"You slipped something into my soda."

"I didn't put anything in your soda."

"Fine. Then I bet it was that Bukowski-worshipping East Villager."

"Jess didn't put anything in your soda either," Rory assured her.

"Then why do I feel like I just sat through 'Crossroads'?"

"How many pixie sticks did you have?" Rory asked.

"I don't know. Why? Are they known to cause nausea and stomach cramping? Don't you think you could have told me that before you forced them on me? Are those eggs?" Paris asked, turning her ire towards Lorelai.

"Uh, well, allegedly," Lorelai answered.

"You thought it would be a good idea to make eggs? Why not just offer me a nice, big, frosty glass of ipecac syrup? That'd do the trick. Excuse me," Paris finished, hurrying out of the kitchen.

"Is it possible to wake up on the wrong side of a sleeping bag?" Lane asked.

"With Paris, anything is possible," Rory replied as she stood up and walked toward the stove. "Are we really gonna eat those?"

"Are you doubting my eggs?" Lorelai asked, taking the plate from Lane. Without missing a beat, she picked up a fork and took a bite. She paused momentarily and then began to chew slowly. After a few seconds, she swallowed heavily. Then, she walked over to the garbage can and shoveled the rest of the eggs into the bag.

Rory grinned. "Luke's it is."


About an hour later, Rory was showered, dressed, and walking beside her mother towards the diner. Both Lane and Paris had headed home; Lane to make her 11 a.m. post-sleepover curfew and Paris to sleep off her sugar hangover.

"Maybe Luke could be my Obi-Wan," Lorelai suggested.

"I seriously doubt Luke has the patience to teach you how to cook."

"Are you kidding me? That man has the patience of a saint."

Rory gave her mother a skeptical look.

"Okay, maybe not," Lorelai conceded. "Should I take classes?"

"Since when do you want to learn how to cook?"

"I hear cooking is sexy."

"Yeah, I bet that shimmy you did with the pan earlier really turns them on. Oh, and the burnt egg bits. Hubba-hubba."

"Is it so much to ask for a little support?"

"Sorry. You're right," Rory agreed. "I fully support you learning how to cook."

"Thank you."

"Even if it means all of my personal belongings could be lost in a tragic kitchen fire."

"Nice."

"Seriously, I'm sure you'll be great at cooking," Rory assured her, trying a different tactic.

"I'm sure you're right."

"But what about Sookie?"

"Sookie?"

"Yeah, see, she's used to being the great cook, but, if you take classes, she might feel threatened."

"Nah," Lorelai dismissed.

"No, really," Rory continued. "Before long, you'll be known as the soufflé queen while Sookie will be reduced to making subpar macaroni and cheese. It could ruin her life."

"Well, in that case, maybe I better not," Lorelai grinned. "For Sookie's sake."

"Right, for Sookie's sake," Rory agreed.

They walked for a while in silence. Then, remembering the night before, Rory turned to her mother. "Sorry I didn't make it through the movie last night."

"Oh," Lorelai said quickly. "It's all right. Judd and I wanted some alone time anyway."

"Of course," Rory smiled as they reached the door to Luke's. "So I didn't miss anything?"

Lorelai looked at her daughter. In the bright light of day, her thoughts of the night before seemed insane. She'd almost given her daughter permission to see Jess. Jess… the boy whose picture you could find in a dictionary next to the word 'heartbreak'. She shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "Nothing important."


Lorelai and Rory removed their coats and took a seat at one of the few vacant tables. Moments later, Luke approached.

"I thought you were supposed to be out of town," he said gruffly, directing his gaze at Lorelai.

"Good morning to you too, Luke."

"The other town wouldn't take you?"

"Actually, the other town proposed marriage, but I just couldn't imagine a life without your cheery face."

"Ostracized in less than a day. That's gotta be a record."

"Ooh, I see you've been using that Word-a-Day calendar we bought you."

"What do you want to eat?"

"See, he used up his word early, so now he's back to single syllables," Lorelai said, grinning at Rory. "Next year, I'm gonna splurge and buy him the Two-Words-a-Day calendar."

Rory smiled at their exchange and looked down at her menu. "Ooh, I think I'll have an omelet."

"Hey, I thought you didn't want an omelet today!"

"No, I just didn't want your omelet," Rory explained, setting down the menu.

"Cheddar or Swiss?" Luke clarified.

"Cheddar."

"Everything on it?"

"Of course."

"Side of bacon or side of sausage?"

"Bacon."

"I should've guessed. Any chance you know what your mom wants?" he asked, not looking up from his notepad.

"Cooking lessons," Lorelai answered, her eyes casually roaming over the menu options.

"Oh boy," Rory mumbled.

Luke glanced up at her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Pretend like I didn't."

"Okay, I said I want two waffles, fluffy scrambled eggs, a side of bacon, cooking lessons, and a glass of orange juice."

"You want cooking lessons?" he asked.

Lorelai put the menu back on the table. "Yes, please."

"From me?"

"From you," Lorelai agreed, preparing herself for his biting retort.

He shrugged. "Okay."

Lorelai's brow furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Luke scribbled down the rest of her order and slid the pencil behind his ear. "You heard me."

"But I swear you said…"

"So that'll be a cheddar omelet with everything on it, two waffles, scrambled eggs, two sides of bacon, and a glass of orange juice," Luke repeated. He looked at Lorelai. "Just let me know when you're free. I'll send Jess over with some coffee." Without another word, he turned around and walked back over to the counter.

Lorelai watched him go then turned to Rory. "Did Luke just say he'd teach me how to cook?"

"I think he did," Rory agreed, equally astonished.

Lorelai peered over at him curiously. "Does his flannel shirt look a little different today?"

"Um," Rory contemplated. "No, not really."

"Yes, it does. Maybe he's been pod-personed!"

"You are very strange," Rory commented, shaking her head.

"No, seriously. When he comes over here, ask him a question only Luke would know the answer to."

"But if only Luke would know the answer, how am I supposed to…"

"Sshh…" Lorelai interrupted. "Here comes Nephew Pod! Act cool!" Lorelai adopted a posture of nonchalance and glanced at Jess. "Oh, hey Jess!"

Jess looked at Lorelai and then at Rory. "What's with her?"

"She thinks Luke is a pod-person."

"Huh," Jess accepted with a nod. He set two mugs down on the table and filled them to the rim with coffee. When he finished, he smirked at Rory then turned to Lorelai. "Luke's really excited about the cooking lessons," he said simply before walking away.

Lorelai's mouth fell open. "Luke's excited about something? He's definitely been podded. And did you notice how Jess didn't even try to deny it?"

"No more late-night sundaes for you, young lady," Rory admonished.

"And he keeps yelling at Tom."

"Jess?"

"No, Luke!"

"That's out-of-character?" Rory asked.

"It's not the yelling. It's the timbre of his voice."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "The timbre of his voice?"

"Yeah, it's more…" Lorelai began, searching for the right word. "Nasally or something."

"Maybe it's all the construction dust he's been inhaling."

"I'm telling you, he's a pod-person."

"And a few days ago, he was an adult refugee of 'The Village of the Damned'."

"You can't deny that his hair looked lighter."

"Again, construction dust."

"Likely story," Lorelai scoffed.

"You have completely lost it," Rory said matter-of-factly.

"He said he'd give me cooking lessons!"

Rory nodded sympathetically. "I know."

"It's too weird. Distract me."

"Tell me about the spa."

"Oh God!" Lorelai groaned. "Speaking of 'The Village of the Damned'…"


"You actually got Grandma to steal a bathrobe?" Rory asked incredulously a short while later.

"Although I did catch her trying to return it while I was getting in the car."

"Still…"

Lorelai nodded. "I know, life with my mother: one step forward, five thousand steps back. It's kinda like the spastic polka."

"Excuse me. Are you done?" Kirk asked from his position behind them.

"No, uh, sorry, not yet," Lorelai replied.

"So, you're gonna eat that half a piece of bacon that's been sitting there for ten minutes?"

"Kirk," Lorelai warned.

"I mean, of course, you must be if you're saying you're not done because that's the only thing left in front of you, unless you eat plates."

"Go away!"

"You are hogging the table."

"You keep it up, I'm gonna have Luke come pod you," Lorelai threatened.

Kirk frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it," Lorelai cryptically replied.

Kirk took a few steps away from the table.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" Lorelai asked, turning her attention back to Rory.

"Oh, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. How do you feel about basketball?"

"The sport?"

"Yes."

"Um… I don't know. I thought it gave a nice performance in 'Hoosiers', but nothing can really redeem it after 'Teen Wolf 2'. Why?"

"I have to go to Dean's game tonight."

"Have to or want to?" Lorelai asked.

"Want to. I guess. Sort of."

Lorelai nodded knowingly. "It means a lot to Dean, but you're afraid you're going to be bored out of your mind."

"Add 'completely confused' and that about sums it up."

"I'll go with you."

"You will?" Rory said hopefully.

"Definitely. It sounds like fun. I have to head to the Inn, but afterwards, I'll stop by the store, buy some pom-poms, and meet you back home later."

"I'll get the check," Rory agreed. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "You really think it sounds like fun?"

Lorelai stood and pulled on her coat. "A night of ruthlessly tormenting cheerleaders," she mused. "How could that not be fun?"

Rory smiled and headed towards the register. She glanced at Jess who was reading behind the counter then directed her attention to the diner owner. "Hey Luke!" she said cheerfully.

Luke turned his attention to Rory. "What, you find a nail in your food? I swear to God, Tom," he yelled. "You are dead. You hear me? Dead!"

"There's nothing wrong with the food, Luke," Rory assured him.

"Oh, sorry, Tom," Luke called.

"I just wanted to thank you."

"Yeah, for what? Offering to give your mom cooking lessons? For the record, I'm already regretting that."

"No, for the care package. It was really sweet of you."

Jess's head shot up from his book.

"What care package?"

"Hey Luke," Jess said, hurrying forward to run interference. "I think they hit the water line again."

"Oh, what?" Luke asked, confused. Realization dawning, he quickly walked over to the construction workers. "You are dead, Tom. You hear me? Dead!"

Jess approached the register.

"Huh, interesting," Rory smirked.

"Hey, you wanna pay?" Jess asked, ignoring her statement.

"I don't think Luke knew anything about the food last night."

Jess looked down at the order pad. "That'll be twelve-fifty."

"Which means you lied about why you came over," Rory continued.

Jess pulled open the register. "I don't have any quarters. I'm gonna have to give you nickels."

"Now why would you lie about something like that?" Rory wondered out loud.

"Here's your change. Come again soon," Jess finished.

Rory smiled. "You wanted to come over."

Jess paused and met Rory's gaze. Slowly, a smirk spread over his face. "You wanted me to stay," he reminded her.

Rory immediately felt her cheeks redden. "So Paris wouldn't win Monopoly."

Jess shrugged. "If you say so."

"Are you saying you didn't want to stay?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you wanted to stay."

"And you wanted me to stay," Jess repeated.

"Just because I said I wanted you to stay doesn't mean I wanted you to stay," Rory clarified.

"Just because I stayed doesn't mean I wanted to be there in the first place," Jess retorted.

"And yet you're the one who dropped by."

"To deliver the care package."

"The care package Luke knows nothing about," Rory reminded him.

Jess smirked. "Haven't you heard? Luke's been 'podded'."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" Rory teased.

"What's convenient?" Dean interrupted, wrapping his arms protectively around Rory's waist from behind.

Rory startled a bit at his unexpected appearance but recovered quickly. "Oh, just those little muffin cups Luke bought. Have you seen them? They're just big enough to hold one muffin, but they're insulated to keep it warm."

Dean smiled. "Ranks right up there with the invention of the wheel."

"Where will technology take us next?" Rory crooned.

Fully aware of Jess's presence, Dean snuggled closer to his girlfriend. "You ready to go?"

Jess stoically resisted the urge to tell him to get a room.

"Yeah, I was just paying," Rory told her boyfriend.

"Actually, you finished that awhile ago," Jess reminded her.

"C'mon," Dean stated, ignoring Jess. "We only have a few hours before I have to head to the gym for warm-ups before the game."

"Another rousing round of Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey?" Jess asked innocently.

Dean chuckled derisively and shook his head. "Yeah, right. We missed you last week. The game just isn't the same without the donkey."

"And yet there were still plenty of as—"

"Okay," Rory interjected, easing out of Dean's grasp and taking his hand to lead him away from Jess. "Time to go."

Dean shot a parting glare at Jess as he followed Rory to the door.

As they walked past the diner window, Rory glanced inside at Jess, but he had already turned back to his book.


"How do you do that without tripping?" Lorelai asked.

"Years of practice," Rory replied, not looking up from her book as they walked.

"It's unnerving. It's like you have some sort of radar that tells you when we reach a curb or have to make a turn."

Rory glanced up. "They're called eyes."

"What's so exciting anyway?" Lorelai asked, grabbing the book from Rory's hands. She flipped it around and looked at the cover. "Basketball? You're reading a book about basketball?"

Rory snatched it back, a sour expression on her face. "I need to be informed."

"Honey, you're watching the game, not starting as guard."

"See," Rory said as if to prove her point. "You know enough about basketball to know that guard is a position. Without this book, I'd look like a fool out there."

"Is there a pop quiz during half-time that I don't know about?"

"I'm the starting center's girlfriend; someone might ask me a question."

"How does he get his hair so floppy?" Lorelai teased.

"For example," Rory said, ignoring her. "If someone asks who invented basketball, I'll know that it was James Naismith."

"Was he born that tall?" Lorelai asked in her best Valley Girl accent. "Or did he, like, take special pills?"

"Or," Rory continued. "If someone asks how many rules there were originally, I can say 13, a number some might consider unlucky. But how unlucky can thirteen rules be if more than 300 million people now play the game worldwide?"

"You're scaring mommy. Put the book away."

"There is crucial information in here."

"I'm sure there is," Lorelai nodded. "But you'll figure it out as you watch. That's how I learned."

"Fine," Rory accepted, turning to the glossary. "Define charging."

"Are you serious?"

"You're the one who claims to know all there is to know."

"Fine. Charging is… what you're doing… if… you're buying a blouse, and you forgot your cash at home."

"Ehn!" Rory exclaimed loudly, acting like a game show buzzer. "Charging is an offensive foul which occurs when an offensive player runs into a defender who has established position."

"Well, if the player is that offensive, I hope he showers after the game," Lorelai joked.

"Rebound?" Rory asked.

"Ooh, I know this one. The relationship one has immediately after the end of a serious relationship. It never ends well."

Rory glared at her mother. "EHN! Are you even trying?"

"No, not really," Lorelai admitted.

"A rebound is the term used to describe the actual retrieving of the ball as it rebounds from the backboard or the ring after a missed shot."

"Right, I thought that's what I said."

"What does it mean if you palm the ball?" Rory asked, looking up from the book.

Lorelai grinned mischievously. "I'm gonna have to tell you about that one when you're older."

"I'm ignoring you now," Rory said, flipping back to the earlier pages of the book.

"Wait, wait," Lorelai interrupted as she grabbed the book from Rory's hand. "Let me quiz you. Hmmm… let's see," she drawled, skimming the glossary. "Ah, okay, here's one. What's a fake?"

Rory didn't even pause before responding. "A movement made with the aim of deceiving an opponent."

"EHN!" Lorelai said loudly. "Now if you'd read this book thoroughly, you'd know that a fake is the slang term for the smile the cheerleaders plaster on their faces when performing those high kicks."

"Haha. Can I have my book back now?"

"Nope," Lorelai firmly stated as she shoved it into her bag.

"Hey!" Rory protested.

"It's for your own good."

"That book is from the library."

"I put it in my purse, not the garbage."

"Give it back!"

"Oh, look, we're here," Lorelai pointed out, pulling open the gymnasium door.

Rory flashed her best puppy dog eyes. "Please give it back."

"Not on your life."


A searing pain shot through Rory's back. Silently cursing the uncomfortable bleacher seats, she shifted her position and glanced at the score clock. She sighed. "I swear that clock said two minutes about fifteen minutes ago."

Lorelai looked at the timer and nodded. "Time stands still in the world of sports. Two minutes really means forty-five."

"Perfect," Rory moped.

"My offer still stands."

Rory turned her eyes to the game. "We are not grabbing people's feet from underneath the bleachers."

"But it'll be fun."

"We could give someone a heart attack."

"See, fun."

"Keep this up, and you're coming back as a garden slug in your next life."

"Okay, fine, we'll avoid the senior citizens."

"We are not grabbing people's fee—"

"AIRBALL!" Lorelai yelled at the top of her lungs, as one of the basketball players shot and missed the basket by several feet.

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed, horrified. "That was Dean."

"It was?" Lorelai asked, peering down at the court.

"Yes, and he missed the shot because he was fouled."

Lorelai squinted. "You ever notice how all of them look alike?"

"Did you notice that the only people who were yelling 'airball' were sitting on the other side of the court?"

"Ooh, look, look! He gets to shoot free throws," Lorelai pointed out, as the teams gathered on either side of the free throw zone. "C'mon, hands in the air!"

"I'm not putting my hands in the air."

Lorelai adopted a look of horror. "You're refusing to support your boyfriend, the center for the Stars Hollow team?" she asked loudly, drawing several people's attention.

Rory sighed and put her hands in the air. "Fine."

Waving their fingers above them, they watched as Dean dribbled the ball and prepared to take his shot. He aimed, and the ball soared through the air.

"SWOOSH!" the Stars Hollow fans exclaimed in unison, dropping their hands in a rush as the ball fell through the hoop.

Rory glanced around and frowned. "Doesn't it worry you that organized sports turn people into cult members?"

"He's taking his second shot," Lorelai said, ignoring her. "Hands in the air!"

Rory put her hands in the air and waited as Dean aimed. He shot, and the ball bounced off the rim. The crowd sighed and unceremoniously returned their hands to their sides.

"Air… ball…" Lorelai mouthed, grinning mischievously at Rory.

"Garden… slug…" Rory mouthed back, shifting in her seat again.


"Three! Two! One!"

As the buzzer sounded, the Stars Hollow crowd broke into whoops and hollers of victory.

"Finally," Rory breathed before standing up and rubbing her back.

"Dean was pretty good, huh?" Lorelai asked as she pulled on her coat.

"Dean was great," Rory agreed, glancing at her boyfriend as he received congratulations from fellow players and cheerleaders. "But basketball is boring."

"How can you say that? Watching basketball is like playing charades but with yelling."

"I hate charades," Rory reminded her mother.

Lorelai looked at her skeptically. "You're telling me you didn't have any fun?"

"It was fun seeing Dean," Rory conceded. "And the last minute was okay."

"You were practically hyperventilating when he took that last shot," Lorelai grinned.

"I was afraid you were going to yell 'airball' if he missed," Rory teased, smiling.

"Moi?" Lorelai asked, her eyes twinkling as she feigned offense at Rory's statement.

Rory scanned the gym for Dean. "Can we go down there and see him?"

"Of course," Lorelai agreed, guiding Rory through the hoards of people.

When they reached Dean, a blonde cheerleader had just stepped forward to give him a hug. As soon as he saw Rory though, Dean pulled away and walked towards her. Rory smiled and reached up to give him a hug. "You were great!" she said sincerely, grinning from ear to ear.

"I was okay," Dean dismissed, holding her tight. "It helped that you were here."

Rory smiled. "It did?"

"Yeah," Dean repeated, pulling back but keeping his hands securely on her waist. "Did you have fun?"

"I was a little confused," Rory admitted.

"I told her the book wouldn't help," Lorelai chimed in.

"What book?" Dean asked.

"The book on basketball she was reading earlier today."

Dean smiled proudly. "You were reading a book on basketball?" Before Rory could answer, he leaned forward and softly kissed her.

"Hey Dean!" a girl interrupted, causing him to pull away. "Great game."

Dean smiled. "Thanks. The whole team was on tonight."

"But you were definitely the MVP," the girl added, smiling.

Lorelai glanced at Rory for the requisite mutual eye roll, but Rory was calmly watching the exchange, unfazed.

"Rory," Dean said, pulling her close. "This is Caralyn."

Rory smiled. "I think we had a class together a couple of years ago."

"Right," Cara agreed.

"And this is Rory's mom, Lorelai," Dean finished.

"Nice to meet you," Cara said before turning back to Dean. "So, Dean, some of us are going out for pizza to celebrate. Interested?"

"Yeah, definitely," Dean agreed. "Rory?"

Rory hesitated. The idea of talking basketball with a bunch of practical strangers didn't sound particularly appealing.

"You should go," Lorelai interjected. "There's no food in the house, and, this way, I know you won't starve to death."

"Sure, come," Cara agreed. "It'll be fun to catch up. We haven't seen you in forever."

Rory looked from Cara to Dean to her mother. There was no way out.


Under the table, Dean's hand squeezed Rory's reassuringly. Realizing she had been staring blankly at the checkered tablecloth, Rory quickly looked up at her boyfriend and smiled in an attempt to show she had been listening. He smiled back, seemingly satisfied, and turned his attention back to his friends. Rory tried to listen to their conversation but found herself lost among the basketball terms. After a few minutes, she let her gaze wander around the pizza parlor instead. Her eyes fell on the collection of Smurf memorabilia, and she grinned slightly, remembering Jess's reaction when she had pointed them out.

"So, Rory," Cara began.

Hearing her name, Rory quickly looked away from the Smurfs and blushed as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. "Yeah?" she asked around the frog in her throat.

"Dean told us this was the first time you'd been to a game," Cara continued.

"Oh, yeah. I usually have this dinner thing with my grandparents on Fridays," she explained.

"Well, what'd you think? Dean's something else, isn't he?"

Rory glanced over at her boyfriend and smiled. "He was great."

"That jump-shot in the second was amazing!" Cara gushed, directing her attention to Dean.

Dean grinned proudly. "It's not that hard when you're as tall as I am."

"But still," Cara qualified. "I mean, there are a lot of tall guys out there who would not have made that shot."

"I guess," Dean humbly accepted.

"Steve Wahters, for example," Cara continued. "Could he have sucked more tonight?"

Rory's brow furrowed in confusion. "Which one was Steve?"

"He plays on the other team," Dean explained. "He's supposed to be the best center in the state."

Cara grinned. "Until Dean moved here, that is."

"Really?" Rory asked innocently, surprised.

"Steve's a nobody now," Cara stated, nodding. "Dean could dribble circles around him."

"Geez, Car," Paul, one of the guards, interrupted. "Speaking of dribble, do you want a napkin to wipe up that drool?"

"Shut up!" Cara exclaimed, smacking him hard on the arm.

Rory blushed, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"Don't listen to him, Rory," Cara said quickly, glaring at Paul. "He's an idiot."

Rory forced a smile but fell silent. Dean ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and Rory looked up at him. He smiled and mouthed 'I love you'. Rory smiled back then looked away. The conversation continued, but, disturbed, she was no longer listening. Her mind warred with itself as she tried to figure out which was bugging her more: that Caralyn Holmes had been flirting with her boyfriend or that, for some reason, she hadn't even noticed.


"All right! Who's up for another round of sodas?" Paul asked a short while later, already rising from the table. "Jake? Cara? Dean?" All three teenagers nodded their heads. "Rory?"

Rory paused and glanced at Dean. Then, turning back to Paul, she said hesitantly, "Uh, thanks, but I think I'm gonna go."

"They're on me," Paul tempted.

Rory smiled but shook her head. "No, thanks."

Paul nodded. "Okay," he accepted. "Well, it was nice seeing you again."

"You too."

"I'll be right back," he said to the others before heading in the direction of the drink machines.

Jake turned to talk to Cara, which gave Rory and Dean a brief moment of privacy.

"You're going?" Dean asked, disappointed.

Rory began pulling on her coat and tried to look tired. "I think I must have post-sleepover lag or something."

"Is this because of what Cara said because she and I are just fr—"

"No, I'm just tired," Rory explained before he could finish.

"Okay, I'll walk you home then," Dean offered, moving to pull on his jacket as well.

"You're having a good time."

"I'd rather be with you."

"You should stay."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Rory leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Stay!" she mock-ordered. "My mom would disown me if she found out I pulled you away from a free beverage."

Dean glanced at his friends. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure," Rory nodded. Turning to Jake and Cara, she said her goodbyes and stood to go. She was just scooting out of the booth when Dean grabbed her arm to stop her. Leaning forward, he placed a long kiss on her lips. Then, pulling away, he whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Rory blushed, surprised at his public display of affection. "Congratulations on the win," she whispered back. Then, with a quick, embarrassed glance at Jake and Cara, she scooted out of the booth and headed for the door.


A cool wind washed over her as she left the pizza place, and she breathed it in gratefully. She hadn't realized how hot and stifling the air in the restaurant had been until now. She immediately felt the warmth that had risen in her cheeks begin to abate. She turned and headed in the direction of home. As she passed the window looking into the restaurant, she glanced in and saw Dean laughing with his friends at the table. She smiled and continued walking.

The brisk gusts of wind must have woken her up because she suddenly didn't feel very tired. She walked leisurely through town, glancing in darkened store windows and smiling at the people she passed. Even at her slow pace, it wasn't long before she reached Luke's Diner, and, without giving it much thought, she turned and headed to the door. When she pulled on the handle, however, the bell above the door jingled slightly, but the door didn't open. She glanced at her watch and sighed. She hadn't realized it was so late. Frowning, she turned to go. She only made it down one step before she heard the sound of the lock turning and felt the warmth of the diner waft over her back.

Turning around, she saw Jess leaning against the doorframe.

He smirked. "We're closed."

"I know. Or at least, I do now," she explained, rambling a little. "I guess I didn't realize how late it was. Sorry." She made a move to head back down the stairs, but Jess's voice quickly stopped her.

"Coffee?"

Rory glanced back up at him. He'd moved aside but still held the door open. She smiled a little and walked past him. He pulled the door shut and followed her to the counter.

Rory sat down on a stool and watched as he walked around the counter towards the coffee pot. "Oh," she said quickly, noticing it was empty. "You don't have to make a new pot. Soda is fine."

Jess shrugged and pulled out a filter. "It's better than refilling salt shakers."

Rory nodded and glanced at the row of half-finished shakers. Then, she watched as Jess prepared the pot of coffee. Once it had begun brewing, he turned back to the counter and resumed his shaker-filling duties. Neither of them said anything. The silence was eerie, especially after weeks of construction noise.

Rory shifted uncomfortably in her seat and waited. Then, when Jess still didn't say anything, she decided she could at least be useful. She reached out and grabbed a shaker and a container of extra salt and began refilling. After finishing two shakers, she couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Basketball is pointless," she said firmly, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the empty diner.

Jess grinned and shook his head. "Deep Thoughts with Rory Gilmore," he drawled, his attention still focused on the salt shaker he held in his hand.

Rory blushed a little as she realized how asinine her comment had probably sounded. "Well, it is," she said weakly.

Jess looked up at her. "Then why'd you go?"

"Dean was playing," she said matter-of-factly. "I was being supportive."

"Huh," Jess accepted, returning his gaze to the shakers.

"He won."

"I heard," Jess said flatly.

"You heard?" Rory asked, surprised.

"Your mom came in after the game."

"Oh."

"She kept yelling 'airball' every time Luke walked past her table."

Rory smiled. "I bet he loved that."

"He gave her table to Kirk."

"He didn't."

Jess smiled. "Oh, he did. It didn't help though. She just followed him around the diner, chanting 'airball' repeatedly until he gave her the table back."

Rory shook her head. "Poor Kirk."

Jess glanced up at her, then back at the shakers. "So, why aren't you celebrating the big victory?" he asked, putting sarcastic emphasis on the last two words.

She shrugged. "I was."

"You left?"

Rory focused intently on screwing the cap back on the salt shaker as she tried to come up with a good answer. After a moment, she said carefully, "I don't have a lot in common with Dean's friends."

"There's a surprise," Jess scoffed.

"It's not a big deal," Rory qualified. "Dean has his friends, and I have mine."

Jess paused and looked up. "So why'd you come here?"

She hesitated, weighing the possible answers. "For the coffee," she said matter-of-factly.

Hiding his disappointment, Jess nodded and turned to grab the pot.

Remembering something, a smile spread slowly across Rory's face. She peered up at him. His back was to her. "Why?" she asked, amusement evident in her voice. "Did you think I wanted to come over here and see you?"

Safely facing away from Rory, Jess smirked. Then, adopting a serious expression, he turned to her and set the full mug on the counter. "Nope."

"Just needed some coffee," Rory clarified, her eyes sparkling happily.

"I should've guessed," Jess accepted.

"That is all," she continued. "Get my caffeine fix."

"Seeing me had nothing to do with it."

"Nothing at all," Rory confirmed.

Jess nodded. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Me too," Rory agreed, sipping her coffee.

Jess smirked and moved back over to the salt shakers. Rory focused her attention on her coffee mug. The only sound in the diner was the whish of salt being poured into the shakers. For a long time, neither of them said anything, but every once in a while – at the exact same moment – without even looking at each other – they smiled.