Defending Bjork

Chapter 15: Perfect

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, quite literally.

A/N: Dedicated to the Lits for their never-ending support and encouragement, particularly but not exclusively Marissa, Sid, Dani, Lisa, Ali, Elise, and Katie; and in honor of all the writers whose work I enjoy. I hope this chapter lives up to everyone's expectations. ~Becka


"Oh! Oh! Look up Howard the Duck!" Lorelai exclaimed as she eagerly watched Rory flip through the squat film guide she held in her hands.

"Okay, Howard the Duck," Rory repeated, scanning her eyes across the page. "Steve Gerber's sarcastic comic book creation is unwisely turned into a live-action character for this hopeless mess of a movie, set in Cleveland. Gargantuan production produces gargantuan headache."

"Geez, Leonard, tell us how you really feel," Lorelai scoffed in disappointment. "Does he not realize the celebrities that were born because of that film?"

"Like who?" Rory asked, skeptical.

"Well, there was Tim Robbins," Lorelai reminded her. "And Lea Thompson."

"Lea Thompson?"

"Without Howard the Duck, there would have been no Caroline in the City."

"Yet another potential tragedy averted."

"I refuse to imagine a world without syndicated episodes of Caroline in the City," Lorelai disputed. "It would be like imagining a world without clogged toilets or black jellybeans."

"You're right. Life's imperfections are what make it special."

"Oh, speaking of which, look up April Fool's Day!"

"It isn't gonna be pretty," Rory warned her even as she flipped backward in the book.

Lorelai shook her head and took a sip of coffee. "What fault could Leonard possibly find with that movie? Three words: Muffy. Saint. John. You can't go wrong."

"Practical joker invites college pals to spend a weekend in her family's mansion on an off-coast island," Rory read. "One by one, they're threatened and killed. Attempt to bring humor to Friday the 13th formula isn't a total washout but doesn't quite click, either."

Lorelai's mouth fell open in mock horror. "That's it?"

"Yep."

"Not even a mention of Clayton Rohner? How could he leave out Clayton Rohner?"

Rory shook her head. "I don't know."

"Just one year after Just One of the Guys, Clayton marvels us again with his inspired performance in April Fool's Day, and yet nothing from Leonard?"

"You're preaching to the choir."

"I know, I know. Hmm… what's another good one? Ooh, how about Dolls?"

Rory turned to the appropriate page. "OK horror film from the director of Re-Animator has unsuspecting people taking shelter from a storm in mansion owned by elderly couple who make murderous dolls. Nothing special here."

"Nothing special?" Lorelai cried out. "Nothing special? Dolls is a brilliant horror film. For months afterward, I kept an eye on your Cabbage Patch Kids, just in case."

"I never knew that."

"Well, I didn't want to scare you," she explained. "But man, I swear, sometimes, late at night, I used to hear them sharpening the ends of their hair brushes into little, pointy lethal weapons. Hey, don't you still have those dolls somewhere?"

"In my closet," Rory nervously admitted.

"I suggest sleeping with one eye open from now on."

"I hate that movie."

"See, genius! Leonard doesn't know what he's talking about. Give me that book!" she ordered, grabbing it from Rory's hands.

Luke approached the table and began refilling their coffee mugs. He eyed Lorelai who was furiously flipping through the book. Puzzled, he looked at Rory. "What is she doing?"

"Trying to find a movie for Movie in the Square Night," Rory explained. "Taylor passed the job on to her, but she was collapsing under the pressure, so she turned to Leonard Maltin for help."

"Yeah, Leonard Maltin, the critic qwack!" Lorelai interjected, angling the book so Rory could see it. "He gave Troop Beverly Hills two and a half stars!" she complained. "Everyone knows it deserves at least three for the Freddy dance scene alone."

"Troop Beverly Hills?" Luke asked, confused.

"Ooh, Mom, Troll!" Rory cheered, pointing to another spot on the page. "If your idea of entertainment is seeing Sonny Bono metamorphose into an apartment of foliage, this is the movie for you."

"There are actually people who don't consider that entertainment?"

"Only hypothetically," Rory promised, taking the book.

"What's Troll?" Luke asked.

"Angelic tyke is possessed by a troll," Rory read, "who takes over her body and starts turning the neighbors into seed pods that eventually turn into new trolls."

Luke's eyes widened. "You're showing that?"

Lorelai shrugged. "It's in the top 5. Right behind Killer Klowns From Outer Space. Did we look that up yet?" she asked, turning her eyes back to her daughter.

Rory shook her head. "Nope."

"Well, chop-chop!" Lorelai prodded.

Rory glanced at her watch. "Can't. I have to leave, or I'm gonna be late for school."

"No, stay!" Lorelai moaned, looking at Rory forlornly.

"Thanks to Dad's short phone call, you already got me for a half hour longer than usual," Rory reminded her. She pulled on her coat.

"Just one more," Lorelai begged.

"No can do. It's just you, Leonard, and Luke now." Rory handed the book to her mother and headed towards the door.

"But Leonard's blind to cinematic genius," Lorelai called, "and Luke's never even heard of Troll!"

Rory waved good-bye and left.

Lorelai turned and looked expectantly at Luke.

"No way!" he said quickly, holding up his hands in defense before hurrying towards the counter.

Lorelai watched him go then glanced down at the movie guide, contemplating her next move. After a minute, she sighed and brought the coffee mug to her lips. Then, an idea dawning, she grinned evilly, stood, and walked to the counter.

"Friday night," she said as soon as she reached Luke.

"Let me guess," he answered without looking up. "Circus freaks invade small-town movie theater and turn the townspeople into popcorn kernels."

Lorelai smiled. "No, but that's good."

"Whatever it is, I don't want to know."

"It's not a movie."

Luke looked up. "Then what is it?"

"A plan. For Friday night. You. Me. Cooking lessons. You offered, remember?"

"That was weeks ago. I was hoping you'd forgotten."

"No such luck, buddy."

"Why now?"

"I'm available. You're available. Why not now?"

"How do you know I'm available on Friday?"

"Because you're always available on Fridays."

"I'm not always available on Fridays."

"Are you saying you aren't available on Friday?"

Luke hesitated.

Lorelai smirked. "Well?"

Giving in, he sighed. "Your place or mine?"


Legs dangling over the water, Jess sat on the bridge, reading. After a few moments, he sighed and lowered the book. Shifting positions, he felt his jacket pockets for a pencil. Not finding one, he frowned and considered his options. Seeming to make a decision, he opened the book and lifted it, beginning to read again. After another moment, he sighed again. A defeated look on his face, he stood up, shoved the book in his back pocket, and walked across the bridge.

A little while later, Jess stood in front of the Stars Hollow High School. It loomed large and prison-like above him. He pulled open the door and glanced inside. Finding the coast clear, he hurried in and headed towards class.

When he reached the door to the classroom, he squinted through the semi-transparent glass and realized that they were taking a test. As quietly and slowly as possible, he drew the door open and peered around it. The teacher's back was turned, so he slid into the room, soundlessly shut the door, and took his seat behind Lane.

"Lane," he whispered, leaning across the desk towards her. She didn't answer.

"La-ane," he quietly sang in an attempt to annoy her into responsiveness. It worked.

"Shh!" Lane hissed, focusing on her test.

"I need a pencil," he stated.

"I don't have one."

"Then I need a pen," he pressed.

Lane glanced at the clock. "You only have fifteen minutes left."

"Then I need the answers," he said with mock sincerity.

"There's a pen in my bag."

"I can't go through your bag."

"Yes, you can," Lane assured him, flipping through her test.

"My mother told me never to go through a lady's bag," Jess explained. "At least, not until you're a couple blocks away." He paused for a beat. "I'm just kidding, she never said that. Though it sounds like pretty good advice, doesn't it?"

Lane reached into her bag and pulled out a pen. "Take it and shut up!" she said, handing it to him over her shoulder.

"Well, I tell you, it's true – small towns sure are friendly," Jess answered. Now in possession of what he came to get, he pulled out his book and settled back into his chair to jot down notes in the margins, missing the look of exasperation on the teacher's face when she noticed his presence.


"Okay, class," the teacher announced immediately after the bell had rung. "Time's up! Please turn in your tests on your way out the door."

Several students groaned, but they all stood and began gathering their things. Lane picked up her backpack and walked to the front of the room to turn in her test. As she headed out the door, Jess jogged to catch up with her.

"Thanks for the pen," he said, holding it out to her.

She glanced at him but continued down the hallway. "Keep it."

Jess shrugged and slid it into his pocket. "Okay."

Lane shook her head. "Why did you even bother to come? You missed the whole test."

"I needed a pencil," Jess stated simply.

"You needed a pencil?" Lane asked in disbelief. "That's it?"

"Yep."

"You came to school – to a class where a test was being given – and flaunted the fact that you were neither sick nor dead nor in mourning because you needed a pencil?"

Jess nodded. "Pretty much."

"Unbelievable! Wouldn't it have been easier to just go home and get one?"

"New York's awfully far away."

Lane rolled her eyes. "Not New York, the diner."

"Ah, but Luke's at the diner," Jess pointed out.

"So?"

"So I'd get caught."

"You don't think the teacher just caught you in there?"

"That teacher couldn't care less if I'm in class or not. Luke, however, seems to feel some sort of moral obligation to care."

"Okay, fine, so go to Doose's and buy a pencil," Lane suggested.

"Didn't have any money."

"Right. Of course," Lane nodded. Then, after a pause, she looked at him. "Did you ever consider just taking the test?"

Jess shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not? You're smart. You probably wouldn't even have to study."

"Tests are a waste of time."

"Tests are how you get a diploma."

"I can always just buy one off the internet," Jess stated.

Lane chuckled and turned towards her next class. "Get some pencils while you're at it."

"Will do," Jess agreed, heading for the main door.

"Where are you going?" Lane asked, stopping abruptly when she noticed he'd veered away.

"I got a pen," he said, holding it up as he backed towards the door. "My work here is done."

"So, despite already being here in the building, you're just leaving?" Lane asked in disbelief.

"Yep."

"To read?"

Jess shrugged. "Probably."

"You're skipping school to read?"

"It looks that way."

Lane nodded in acceptance. "Okay. Sure. Great. But just so you know, that makes no sense."

"Maybe so, but when does anything really make sense in Stars Hollow?" Jess asked before walking out the door.

Lane watched him leave then turned to walk the rest of the way to class. "Point taken."


"Okay, well, thanks to Leonard Maltin's input this morning, all of the worthwhile horror films are out," Lorelai said, putting her list on the diner counter and crossing off several titles.

"No one said you have to listen to Leonard," Rory reminded her.

"Honey, there are four bazillion movies worthy of being shown on Movie in the Square Night, we have to listen to someone."

"In that case, you'd better cross off My Boyfriend's Back and Once Bitten."

"What?" Lorelai protested. "Jim Carrey!"

"Leonard has spoken," Rory said sadly.

"Fine," Lorelai accepted, crossing the names off the list. "But Leonard has officially reached his say quota."

"Deal."

"What about The Sound of Music? Great plot, great music, Christopher Plummer looking particularly delicious."

"Kirk getting 'Do-Re-Mi' stuck in his head and serenading us with it for the next two months."

Lorelai scratched it out. "Consider it gone. 9½ Weeks?"

"Miss Patty would love it, but I don't think the rest of the town is quite ready for it yet."

"You're probably right," Lorelai agreed. "This is good. We're definitely narrowing it down."

"Oh no!" Rory exclaimed, glancing at the list. "We forgot The Princess Bride."

"Roman Holiday."

"When Harry Met Sally."

Lorelai added them to the list. "And we're right back where we started."

"Not true," Rory argued. "We are one film short of where we started."

"Okay, maybe we just need some set criteria."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Lorelai said, thinking. "Like nothing with Richard Gere."

"Fair enough."

Lorelai crossed off Pretty Woman and An Officer and a Gentleman.

"Nothing with Keanu Reeves," Rory added.

Lorelai nodded. "Good, good." She glanced through the list. "Wait, we didn't pick anything with Keanu Reeves. How about a Baldwin instead?"

"Works for me."

"In fact," Lorelai continued. "How about all of the Baldwins?"

"Now you're talkin'," Rory encouraged.

Lorelai went through the list and started crossing off more titles. The diner bell rang, and Rory glanced back in time to see Jess walk through it, book in hand. He walked as he read, scooting effortlessly around tables, towards the counter, and up the stairs. He disappeared before Lorelai even had the chance to see him walk by.

"Okay," she commented, looking up. "It's definitely dwindling."

Rory smiled to herself and turned back to look at the list. "You missed The Usual Suspects."

"What? Kevin Spacey. Gabriel Byrne. Kevin Pollack."

"And Stephen Baldwin," Rory reminded her.

"How did the star of Bio-Dome manage to get a role in The Usual Suspects?"

"Only the casting couch knows for sure," Rory quipped.

"Ew! Stephen Baldwin?!"

"Probably confused him with Billy."

Lorelai nodded. "An honest mistake. Ooh, hey, if we take off Fletch and Urban Cowboy, we're down to seventy-five possibilities."

Rory sighed. "This is hopeless. How are we gonna pick just one?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should do like a movie marathon weekend. You know, just show one movie after the other for three days and charge everyone a fortune, gouge 'em on bottled water, have those really disgusting bathrooms – it'd be like our own Woodstock."

Rory nodded, considering the idea.

"Ah, good, there you are!" Taylor interrupted, suddenly appearing beside them. "I have something for you."

"What?" Lorelai asked.

"This," he stated, dropping a heavy binder onto the counter in front of them.

Lorelai flinched. "Geez!"

"Now, when you get through this and make your decision, the number of the man you need to contact is on the first page," Taylor explained.

"What man? What is this?"

"This is the list of titles that are available for you to pick from for the movie night."

"The list of titles?" Lorelai repeated. "I'm sorry, can't we just pick our own movie?"

"You're not serious?"

"Not often, but just there – yeah, I had some serious going."

"My dear girl," Taylor said patronizingly. "Movies are expensive, and we get fabulous deals with this particular place. They have a wide selection, and they're friendly, and since it all goes to charity, they agree to give us anything on that list for free."

"So we have to pick a movie off this list?"

"Oh, it's fun," Taylor assured her as he opened the binder. "They put the movie title over here," he pointed out. "And a brief description of the storyline over here and believe me, there are some excellent movies on that list. Really. Top-notch."

Lorelai looked down at the list and began to read. "Arctic Flight – man with plane flies charter to Alaska, hired by bear hunter who turns out to be Russian spy, love story develops with pilot and school teacher. Eskimos do tribal dance. You made this up!"

"Don't I wish," Taylor bemoaned. "Okay, well, I can't wait to see what you come up with. Bye girls."

"Bye," Lorelai answered, distracted.

"Killer Shark," Rory read.

"Oh."

"Shark fisherman on ocean, Mexican cantina with tequila and Mariachi music, has good scene of catching and cleaning shark."

"Where Are Your Children?" Lorelai continued. "Hip music and singing about kids getting into trouble, sneaking booze into clubs, stealing car, fight between girls, romance starts then guy goes in the Navy."

"Huh," Rory commented. "Sudden Danger – mom dies of gas asphyxiation, son blamed, good kiss scene."

"Suspense. Ice skater falls in love with hired help. Well, at least now I know how Snow Dogs got made."

"Hey," Luke greeted the girls as he hurried through the door. "Have you seen Jess?"

"I think I saw him go upstairs earlier," Rory said, trying to sound casual.

Luke sighed. "Oh, great, thanks." Without another word, he hurried upstairs to the apartment.

"Wonder what he did now," Lorelai commented.

"Who?"

"Jess."

"Why do you think Jess did something?"

"Just a hunch. Ooh, hey, listen to this one. Dear So-and-So – Lonely man is determined to write important letter. Spends whole movie in room, trying to decide on recipient. Like Castaway but without the plane crash, deserted island, or Wilson. That sounds good, huh?"

"I'm moved by just the description."

"Or there's always Rinse Cycle. Experience the inner workings of a washer firsthand. Educational and exciting."

"Wow, they even have documentaries."

"I'm starting to think there's something for everyone in this not-so-little binder," Lorelai said, patting it lovingly.

Rory nodded and leaned closer. "Up, Up, and Away – Dysfunctional family bonds during a kite-flying excursion. Hey!" she protested. "That sounds like a rip-off of Mary Poppins."

"Oh, honey, I'm sure Mary Poppins ain't got nothin' on that movie."

Rory frowned. "Bio-Dome is suddenly looking better and better."

"I feel like I should put it on our list."

"But that list is useless."

"It'd make me feel better."

Rory pulled the old list out from under the heavy binder and handed it to her mother. "Write away."

"The Baldwins didn't deserve our disapproval," Lorelai said sadly as she scribbled some titles onto the list.

"The binder does sort of put everything into perspective, doesn't it?"

"Gifts from Taylor tend to do that," Lorelai agreed. After jotting down a few more films, she paused, pen poised over the paper. "Hey, do you think we can con that place into sending us some free copies for our own personal enjoyment?"

Rory grinned and eyed the binder. "As research… for next year."

"It only seems right. We wouldn't want to prejudge."

"Definitely not," Rory agreed.

"Okay, which ones?" Lorelai asked, pulling the binder forward.

"Well, I hear you haven't seen a good kiss scene until you see Sudden Danger."

"Ooh, and the Eskimo tribal dance!" Lorelai quickly added.

"We can have a marathon. It'll be like bad movie heaven."

"We shall cringe until we can't cringe anymore!" Lorelai declared.

"Hey, no prejudging, remember."

"Sorry. Right, right. Okay, one more and we'll have a triple feature. Let's see," Lorelai pondered, flipping through the pages.

Suddenly, Jess emerged from the curtained stairway and, without a word, walked straight out the door. Both of the Gilmores watched him go then turned back to each other.

"Guess my hunch was wrong," Lorelai sarcastically admitted.

Rory frowned. "He probably just had somewhere to be."

"Ri-ight."

"I thought you were looking for another movie."

Lorelai grinned triumphantly and turned back to the binder. "I am."


A couple of hours later, Jess walked back into the diner and, seeing no sign of Luke, breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed or wanted was another lecture. He hurried across the room and headed upstairs. When he entered the apartment, he immediately moved towards the bed and started searching around it for the pen Lane had given him earlier.

"Hey."

Jess started and looked towards the voice. Luke stared back at him from his seat at the kitchen table. Recovering quickly, Jess shook his head and turned back to what he was doing. "I thought I told you not to wait up."

"It's five-thirty in the evening."

"I know," Jess answered, glancing over his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be napping? Oh, wait, sorry, 'resting your eyes'," he finger-quoted.

"I don't nap."

Jess smirked. "Sure you don't."

"It was one time," Luke clarified. "And I think I was coming down with something."

"Yeah," Jess chuckled. "Old age."

"It was probably a twenty-four hour bug. Maybe even a virus. Or some sort of flu."

"Is that what the kids call it these days?" Jess asked.

"I got you a tutor," Luke said, abruptly changing the subject.

Jess turned his full attention to his uncle, anger clearly written all over his face. "You did what?"

"Got you a tutor," Luke calmly repeated. "Did you think I was kidding earlier?"

"You got me a tutor?" Jess said in disbelief. "Jesus, I'm not Abel Makay."

"This is your future, Jess. I'm not going to let you throw it away just because you don't want to go to school."

"Your concern is touching, Uncle Luke," Jess replied sarcastically, turning back to his search.

"It's like your principal said… I think if you just had a little help. I don't know. Encouragement or—"

"Please stop," Jess interrupted. "You're gonna make me cry."

"C'mon, Jess. Just give it a chance."

Jess shook his head. "No, thanks. I think I'll just stick to failing."

"So what am I supposed to tell her when she gets here tonight?"

"The tutor's a she?" Jess chuckled, glancing at Luke. "Do you think that's wise?"

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, confused.

Jess smirked but didn't answer. Finally locating his pen, he shoved it into his coat pocket and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"It's Rory," Luke called, hoping to get his nephew's attention.

Jess paused and turned around. "What's Rory?"

"Rory's your tutor. I asked her earlier today."

"Oh yeah? How'd Lorelai feel about that?" Jess asked, suddenly amused.

"She thinks it's a good idea."

"Sure she does."

"We both think Rory could help. She likes to study, and she's good at it," Luke explained. "And you two seem to li—"

"Fine."

Jess's response took Luke by surprise. "Huh?"

"Rory's my tutor."

"Just like that?"

Jess nodded. "Yep."

Luke stood up and rubbed his hands together victoriously. "Great. That's great. She'll teach. You'll study. Hey, you might even pass."

"Ter-rif-ic," Jess drawled.

Luke walked towards the door and, pausing, gave Jess a fatherly pat on the back. Then, without another word, he headed downstairs to the diner.

Once he was gone, Jess took off his jacket and pulled the book from his back pocket. Sinking onto the bed, he began to read, a small smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.


"Here's a copy of the film," Kirk stated, handing his movie to Lorelai. "Take a look and call me. And remember, I can edit out two of the hells, but I need to keep all the damns. It's a street cred thing."

Lorelai looked down at the tape and smiled. "Bye Kirk."

He walked out the diner door, and Lorelai turned to Rory. "Kirk's a filmmaker."

"I heard."

"Kirk makes films, which means Kirk has a video camera."

Rory's nose scrunched up. "Oh, yeah."

"I'm slightly frightened by this new information."

"As you should be," Rory agreed.

"You do realize that I can't not show this on Movie Night. No matter how disturbing or awful it is."

Rory nodded. "It would be wrong to deprive the people."

"Well, at least now I have something fun to do tonight."

"You're not watching that without me," Rory argued.

"Okay, I'll wait," Lorelai agreed. "So, um… ooh, do you wanna get some pie?"

"No, I'm full."

"Coffee? How 'bout some coffee?"

"I'm good."

"Hot chocolate?" Lorelai tried again.

"No, thanks."

"Egg cream?" Lorelai asked, slightly desperate. "Now, I've never had an egg cream, but it sounds just disgusting enough to be fabulous."

"We're just going to study," Rory reassured her.

"I know."

"And we'll be right here doing it."

"I know."

"So all this stalling is completely unnecessary."

"I know."

"So go," Rory prodded.

"Why exactly does Jess need a tutor again?" Lorelai asked, still sitting.

Rory sighed. "Because he's failing school."

"Oh, right. So your job is to…"

"Help him learn the material," Rory finished.

"And what? Draw him little maps of Stars Hollow, so he can see where the school actually is?"

"If the need arises."

"I still don't see how this is your problem."

"Mom…"

"Fine, fine. It's just, judging from past experience – and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, your outings with Jess seem to lead to criminal activity."

"Only the outings I didn't tell you about," Rory reminded her.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, you know about this one, so yes."

Lorelai looked at her skeptically.

"Nothing's gonna happen. We'll study. Take notes. Possibly eat food. That's all."

"No property damage?"

"None."

"No theft?"

"Definitely not."

"No breaking and entering?"

"We never did that in the first place."

"Just checking," Lorelai teased.

"We aren't even going to leave the diner," Rory assured her. "We'll be right here all night. I promise."

Lorelai eyed her daughter, knowing full well that, despite the events of the recent past, she had no reason to doubt her. She sighed. "I've officially turned into my mother."

Rory frowned. "It's my fault. I'm the one who lied."

"Aw," Lorelai dismissed, smiling reassuringly. "To be honest, your Stepford-like perfection always scared me anyway. I was beginning to think they gave me the wrong baby in the hospital."

"Nope, you're stuck with me."

"Well, I can imagine worse things to be stuck with," Lorelai said, standing and kissing the top of her daughter's head.

"Hey Teach," Jess greeted, approaching their table.

"See," Lorelai whispered teasingly. "Worse things."

Rory shook her head but smiled nonetheless.

"You guys done yet?" he asked.

"Not just yet," Lorelai answered.

"Okay, well, I'll be right over there when you are," he said, pointing to the counter. "I just can't wait for that learning to begin," he enthused. "Hey, are we gonna do some of those Schoolhouse Rock songs?"

"I'll be right there, Jess."

"Cause they say if you just make learning fun," he quipped.

"Give us a minute, okay?" Lorelai asked.

"Well, hurry," Jess mocked, backing away. "A mind is a terrible thing to waste."

"Nice to see he's taking this so seriously," Lorelai stated, annoyed.

"I'll be home early."

"For the record, I didn't forbid homicide," Lorelai joked.

Rory smiled. "Noted."

"Okay. I'll see you at home."

"Bye Mom."

"Bye Jess," Lorelai called.

Jess nodded formally. "Ma'am."

Lorelai glared at him and walked out the door.

As she left, Rory stood up and walked over to Jess at the counter. "So are you ready to start?"

"Yes, I am."

"Where are your books?"

"Huh," Jess answered, pretending to think. "I don't know."

"How are we gonna study without your books?"

"I guess we can't," Jess said quickly. "Too bad. So what now – movie?"

"Get your books," Rory calmly ordered.

"The cat ate 'em."

"Get your books or I'm going home," she clarified, turning to grab her coat from the table.

Jess frowned, thinking. "Wait there!" he said, pointing at her to stop. He tapped his fingers on the counter, trying to come up with a plan. He quickly grabbed something off the counter and turned to face her. Without a word, he waved a cloth napkin in the air. Rory watched, puzzled.

After showing her that there was nothing hidden behind it or inside it, he held it in place then ran it over his left hand before whipping it aside to reveal a shiny, red apple underneath. Rory looked at it skeptically while he tapped it with his finger, silently urging her to take it. She sighed and picked it up. Satisfied, Jess turned and headed upstairs to get his books. Rory watched him go, a small smile creeping across her face.


A few minutes later, Jess returned to the table and plunked a stack of heavy textbooks onto its surface.

"There. Books," he stated as he took a seat across from her.

"A definite step in the right direction," Rory replied. "What classes are you taking?"

"A trick question already? Aren't you supposed to ease me into those?" he asked. "Give me a chance to feel secure in my knowledge? Offer me a gold star or two? What kind of tutor are you? Have you ever even done this before?"

"Classes. Now," Rory repeated, trying to sound firm.

"Fine, let me think," he answered. "Uh, Boredom 101. Asinine 102. Or was it Useless Knowledge 102?"

Rory shook her head. "Let's just take a look at your books, shall we?"

"If we must."

"Hmm… United States History," she stated, looking through the stack. "English, Geometry, and Human Biology."

Jess smirked. "I can't wait to see how we study for that."

Rory glanced up at him, her cheeks turning slightly red. When he raised an eyebrow at her in response, she immediately looked back down at the books, grabbing the history text off the stack. "US History, it is."

"It's always smart to save the best for last," Jess agreed.

Rory ignored him. "Can you at least tell me what chapter you're on?"

"In which book?" Jess asked, feigning innocence. "I've been switching back and forth lately, depending on my mood. A little Saul Bellow; some Hermann Hesse."

Rory sighed. "Jess…"

"Chapter 26."

"Thank you," she said gratefully as she turned to the appropriate page. "Ooh, the Cold War."

"Bo-ring," Jess sang, leaning back in his chair.

Rory looked up from the book. "History doesn't have to be boring."

"No, actually, I think it does," Jess disputed. "History is synonymous with boring. It's an unwritten academic law."

Rory shook her head in disagreement. "You just have to find a way to connect with it, so you want to learn it, regardless of tests or grades."

"Ah, but haven't you heard it's destined to repeat itself?" Jess shot back. He shrugged. "I'll catch it the second time around."

"Archduke Ferdinand," Rory stated.

"What about him?" Jess asked.

"He made history interesting."

"Wow! Archduke Ferdinand teaches at Chilton?" Jess asked sarcastically.

Rory glared at him. "No. I mean, there was this story about him in a history textbook I had to read years ago. About his assassination and how it happened. Apparently, they changed his route, but at one point, the driver made a wrong turn and ended up on the original route. The general riding with them told them they had to turn around and go down the alternate route, and it was only when they did that that Ferdinand was assassinated. If they'd stayed on the original route or never taken that wrong turn, he probably wouldn't have been killed."

"Guy couldn't win," Jess commented, pretending to be bored.

"Exactly. It's like it was fate. Like he was meant to be killed, no matter what he did. After all, if he hadn't, the course of the world would've been dramatically different. Everything would've been different. If only they hadn't changed his route. It's fascinating. Reading that makes you see him as a real person instead of some random historical name. The key to learning history is to search for the humanity beneath all of the facts and dates they throw out at you. A lot of times, if you get involved in the story, you learn all of the other stuff along the way."

"You're telling me that there's actually something interesting in that textbook?" Jess asked.

Rory glanced down at it and frowned. "Not necessarily," she admitted.

"Gee, thanks, this really helped," Jess joked.

"Okay, so maybe there won't be a story like that in here, but you can find things outside this textbook that might make you want to read it anyway. If something about the topic matters to you, you might have an interest in learning it."

"Well, I sure can't think of anything," Jess dismissed.

Rory paused for a minute, thinking. Then, excited, she looked up at him. "Every Breath You Take by the Police."

"Good song," Jess acknowledged.

"99 Luftballoons?" Rory threw out.

Jess looked at her curiously. "A classic."

"Ivan Meets G.I. Joe."

"By The Clash?" Jess asked.

"That's the one," Rory nodded proudly. "What do they have in common?"

Jess shrugged. "They don't suck."

"Besides that," Rory replied, smiling.

Jess thought for a moment then smirked. Rolling his eyes, he said mechanically, "They're all about the Cold War."

"Ding-ding-ding!" Rory cheered. "See, I bet you already know something about the war just by listening to those songs."

"You're telling me I should care about the Cold War because a few bands wrote songs about it?"

"Or you could care because you want to figure out why people have drawn parallels between the Cold War and Star Trek," Rory suggested.

"Those people have too much time on their hands."

"C'mon, if people have written songs about it and compared it to television shows, there has to be something interesting about it."

"The fact that you know people compared it to television shows is actually a little frightening," Jess commented.

"They had a CNN series about it," she explained.

"You watched a CNN series on the Cold War?" Jess asked incredulously.

Rory smiled, unembarrassed. "Yep."

"Okay, then you can just tell me why people compare the Cold War to Star Trek."

"Nope, you'll have to figure it out yourself," Rory replied, pushing the book his direction.

Jess looked down, tempted for a moment. Then, he pushed it back towards her. "You want some coffee?" he asked, not even waiting for her answer before he stood up and walked towards the counter.

Rory watched him go, grinning. She could tell she'd almost convinced him.

A moment later, he returned with two mugs and set them down. He took his seat across from her, clearly amused. Without missing a beat, he looked at her and smirked. "What were we talking about again?"

"Cold—" Rory began before being cut off by Jess.

"Right, Coldplay," Jess finished. "Did you know there are some people who don't consider them alternative?"

Rory looked at him in disbelief, her smile turning into a frown. "You're hopeless."

Jess smirked. "Don't tell me you agree with them?" he asked before launching into his defense of the band.


Rory looked down at the textbook, trying to ignore the fact that Jess was playing with a deck of cards. "Explain to me the political ramifications of the Marshall Plan."

Jess picked up the cards and fanned them out. "Pick a card," he stated, holding them out in front of her.

Rory dropped her pen onto the book and looked up at him. Snatching the cards from his hand, she threw them to the ground.

"Huh," he said, glancing down at where the cards had fallen. "Well, that just made the trick a little bit harder."

"Jess, focus," Rory reprimanded.

"Where's Dean tonight?" he asked, playing with the apple he'd given her earlier.

"We just went over this. There's no way you already forgot it."

"Work?" Jess asked, ignoring her.

"I will make you write it out fifty times on the specials board if that's what it takes."

"Cause if he's not at work, he must be free, so he doesn't care that you're here?"

"No, he doesn't," Rory answered. "He's visiting his grandmother."

"Where?"

"Chicago."

Jess nodded. "So he doesn't know."

"It wouldn't matter."

"So you'll tell him when he gets back?" Jess pushed.

"We're studying," Rory reminded him.

"You're studying," he clarified. "I'm prying into your personal life."

Rory sighed. "Jess, why won't you at least try to remember the Marshall Plan?"

"Haven't found my personal connection with it yet," Jess teased.

"This is ridiculous."

"Do you keep a lot of things from Dean?"

"No," Rory said abruptly. "Of course not."

"Does he know you hate basketball?"

Rory didn't answer.

"Didn't think so. What about destroying the snowman, does he know about that?"

"This is getting us nowhere," Rory mumbled.

"I just think it's interesting that I know things about you that he doesn't," Jess explained.

"Well, he knows things about me that you don't know," Rory defended.

"Like what?" Jess asked, intrigued.

"Could we please just study history?"

Jess smirked. "I am. Yours and Dean's."

"It's none of your business."

"Ooh, touchy," Jess remarked.

"Look," Rory said, meeting his eyes. "I'm here to help you study. If you want me to go, I'll go, but if I'm going to stay, then you will stop distracting me and pay attention, understand?"

Jess looked at her intently. "Who said I wasn't paying attention?"

"Understand?" Rory repeated, forcing herself to maintain eye contact.

Jess nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now open your book," Rory demanded, turning her eyes back to the text in front of her.

Jess flipped open his book but kept his eyes on her, amusement dancing across his lips.


"Okay, I think we finally figured it out!" Rory declared, looking down at the completed geometry problem with obvious pride.

"Actually, you figured it out," Jess pointed out.

Rory paused, running her eyes across the paper. "Oh," she said sadly. "Well, it was just a warm-up anyway."

"Yeah," Jess joked. "I'm sure I'll figure out the next one."

"You will," Rory assured him. She looked in the book for the next problem. "This one actually doesn't look too bad," she promised.

"Right," Jess scoffed. "You hungry?"

"What?" Rory asked, looking up, her brow still scrunched in concentration.

"There's apple pie," he said, pointing to the counter.

Rory hesitated.

"I have to get up and lock the door anyway," Jess urged.

Confused, Rory finally looked around at the rest of the diner and noticed that everyone had left. "How'd that happen?" she asked, surprised.

Jess chuckled and stood up to lock the door. Then, he headed towards the counter. "Last chance. Pie? No pie?"

"Pie," Rory agreed.

Jess nodded and went to retrieve it. While he did that, Rory scribbled notes on a sheet of paper, trying to solve the problem, so she could help him if he couldn't get it.

A few moments later, he returned and set the pie pan on the table. As she continued to problem-solve, he scooped a piece onto each plate. "Here you go," he said, handing her one. She set down her pencil and took it gratefully, immediately stabbing her fork into its crust and taking a bite. Jess grabbed his own plate and sat down in the chair beside her.

She stopped chewing and looked at him questioningly.

"I need to see the diagram," he stated, gesturing at the book.

Seeming to accept his explanation, Rory took another bite of pie then set down her plate. She moved the book so they could both see it and began to read.

"The cube on the left below has a surface area of 96 centimeters squared."

Jess kept eating but looked down at the diagram.

Grateful that he was finally paying attention, Rory continued, "An ant is walking around the outside of the cube in straight paths – where we define a straight path in this case as one formed by the edges of a cross-section created by a plane slicing through the cube. For example, to get from point Q to point R in the picture above on the right, the ant walks along the red path. There are many different straight paths the ant can take, as you can imagine by slicing the cube with different planes. Question 1: Describe and find the length of the shortest possible path the ant could take to get from point A to point G."

Finished, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Not a word of that made sense," he said, setting down his plate.

Rory chuckled. "Yeah, not really."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you think the world will end if he takes the scenic route?"

"Actually, Question 2 is about the scenic route."

"You're kidding?"

Rory pointed at the textbook, and Jess looked down.

"I'm never going to care about this," he said bluntly.

Not a big fan of geometry herself, Rory nodded. "Fair enough. Shakespeare?"

"Please."

Rory grinned and switched books. A paper was sticking out of the edge of the book, so she opened it up to that page and pulled it out. Unfolding it, she peered inside. "You kept the syllabus?" she asked, astonished.

Jess glanced at it. "Is that what that is?"

Rory smiled and read over the sheet. "According to this, you're supposed to memorize a passage of Othello."

"I've never understood that," Jess scoffed, shaking his head.

"Othello?"

"Memorization," he clarified. "What's the point?"

"Well," Rory began, searching for a valid reason. She frowned.

"Yes?" he prodded, folding his arms in anticipation of her answer.

"I hear that stuff is great at cocktail parties," she offered weakly.

"Well, that'll come in handy."

"I didn't write the assignment," Rory defended.

"You're right. It's way before your time. More of an ancient form of torture," Jess explained. "All designed to make you memorize some random poem or Shakespearean passage that will do you no good later in life, except to annoy your kids."

"Kids?" Rory repeated, not following him.

"The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor, and the highwayman came riding – riding – riding – The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door."

"You memorized The Highwayman?" Rory asked.

"My mother memorized The Highwayman," Jess clarified. "About a thousand years ago. It was her one crowning achievement in school, and she never let me forget it. I can't even count how many times I heard that poem when I was a kid."

"Wow, the whole thing? It's long," Rory commented.

"You're telling me?" Jess said incredulously. "Torture."

Rory smiled.

"And what's even worse," Jess continued. "Is that it's permanently burned into my mind now too. Memorization is inhumane."

"It's too bad you don't have to memorize The Highwayman for school," Rory joked.

"That's their other trick. Never repeat the same poem. That way, future generations are guaranteed to suffer."

"But you've read Othello before, right? Maybe you already have something partially memorized," she suggested.

Jess rolled his eyes. "I'm not memorizing anything."

"Please."

"No way!" Jess stated firmly.

"Just try," Rory said, handing him the book. "Pick out a passage."

He looked at her – her pleading puppy dog eyes in full force – and, with a sigh, took the book.


"Done," Jess declared, finishing the last couple of words and handing the paper to Rory.

He waited while she examined his work. "This isn't Shakespeare," she frowned.

"It's not?" he asked innocently.

"It's the words to a Clash song."

"Ah, now, but which Clash song?" Jess asked, gesturing towards the sheet.

"Hey, I'm not the one being tested right now," Rory complained.

"Ten seconds," Jess threatened, holding his watch up so he could see it.

"Jess."

"Nine, eight, seven."

"Stop it," Rory ordered.

"Six, five, four."

"You know, you're really starting to…"

"Three."

"Ooh, ooh!" she exclaimed happily. "Guns of Brixton."

"A-plus," Jess drawled.

Rory grinned proudly. Then, pausing, she looked at him. "Why would you even agree to this studying thing in the first place?"

"Because Luke said I had to," Jess said simply.

"You've never done anything because someone said you had to."

"I moved here because someone said I had to," he reminded her.

"Very different."

"Yeah, well," he mumbled. He dipped his finger into the pie then licked off the filling that clung to its surface. "Hey," he said, looking up at her. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"I'm sick of studying," he explained as he stood up and walked to the diner door.

"How can you be sick of studying? You haven't done any studying. You've done card tricks, you've made coffee, you've tried to explain to me how on earth Coldplay could be considered an alternative band, but as of yet, no studying."

"That's your car?" Jess asked, peering through the blind slats.

"Yes, it is."

Jess hurried over to her and took his seat. "Okay, tell you what. Let's go get some ice cream, and then, when we get back, I'll study."

"This is a diner, there's ice cream here."

"Yes, but we don't have any cones."

"Cones?"

"I need cones."

"Well," Rory said, considering the idea. "So, if we go get ice cream…"

"In cones," Jess added.

"Then you will be a perfect student for the rest of the night?"

"That's right," he agreed.

The idea was tempting, but suddenly, Rory remembered her promise to her mother. "I can't."

"Did you just hear me offer to study?"

"Yes, I did, but…"

"That's a once in a lifetime offer."

"I realize that but…"

"But what?" he asked, confused.

"Well," Rory began. "Quite frankly, I've seen no proof that your offer is any good."

"What do you mean?"

"You blew off history, flat-out refused to care about geometry, and recited a Clash song instead of a Shakespeare passage."

"I promise I'll study," Jess tried again. "Ants in cubes, Soviet espionage, whatever you want."

"Sorry. I need proof."

Jess shook his head. "You'll just have to trust me."

Rory crossed her arms over her chest and waited, her eyes on Jess. He stared back at her for a minute, hoping to call her bluff.

When she didn't waver, he sighed. "Fine. The Marshall Plan was a proposal of American foreign aid intended to assist the rehabilitation of Western Europe," he robotically recited. "Not only did it restore economic stability to the area, but it helped restore political stability and shield Europe and the rest of the world from the spread of Communism. Happy?"

Rory faltered, taken aback that he'd picked up on anything she'd said. "You actually knew the answer?"

"Well, you kept repeating it over and over. I'd have to be an idiot not to catch on."

Rory grinned. "Interesting…"

Jess narrowed his eyes at her, not liking the expression on her face. "What?"

"What about Shakespeare?"

"He wrote some plays," Jess answered.

"I need a passage," Rory declared, settling back in her chair.

"You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Okay, fine," Jess accepted. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and, after a brief pause, began writing. After a minute or two, he stopped and read it over, then held it out to her. When she reached for it, however, he pulled it out of the way. She glared at him and held out her hand. Maintaining a straight face, he held it out again until it hovered above her palm. She lifted her hand to grab it, but he moved it just in time.

She gave up, refolding her arms over her chest. "I knew you didn't know one."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking.

She shrugged. "Guess that means no cones."

He chuckled and held the paper out to her again, but she kept her arms folded.

"Are you gonna take it?"

"No, thanks."

"C'mon, Rory, take it," he said, waving it in the air in front of her. "You know you're curious."

"It's probably just gibberish," she replied, uninterested. To prove her point, she shifted her eyes to the textbook and began flipping through the pages.

Jess raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. "A maiden," he began, locking his eyes not on the paper but on her. "Never bold."

Faintly recognizing the passage, Rory stopped reading and listened but didn't look up.

"Of spirit so still and quiet," he continued. "That her motion blush'd at herself."

Eyes fixed blurrily downward, Rory brushed her hair behind her ear nervously, fighting the blush rising in her own cheeks.

"And she, in spite of nature," Jess said slowly. "Of years, of country, credit, every thing, to fall in love with what she fear'd to look on."

Rory glanced up, her blue eyes meeting the deep brown of his.

"It is a judgment main'd," he went on softly. "And most imperfect, that will confess perfection so could err against all rules of nature, and must be driven to find our practices of cunning hell." His eyes searched hers. "Why this should be."

A long silence hung in the air, both of them suddenly wanting something they knew they couldn't have.

After a moment, Jess spoke, breaking the spell. "Gibberish, huh?"

Swallowing thickly, Rory blinked and looked away. "Why didn't you just write that the first time?"

He shrugged. "You weren't offering cones." He saw her glance at the math book and immediately added, "There's no way I'm doing the geometry though."

Rory smiled and, the tension gone, turned her eyes back to him. He had more than proven that she could trust him to study when they got back from getting ice cream, but her promise to her mother weighed heavily on her mind. "Okay," she accepted, an idea taking root. "No geometry, but you have to do something else instead."

Jess hesitated only briefly before asking what.

Rory grinned, knowing she was about to ask the impossible. "Make a white rabbit appear."

Jess looked confused. "What?"

"Well, you've done card tricks, quarter tricks, and apple tricks," she clarified. "So, if you really want an ice cream cone, make a rabbit appear."

Not one to give up so easily, Jess thought for a moment, looking around the room for ideas. His eyes fell on the pad of paper, and he smirked. He turned back to her. "Close your eyes."

"So you can go to the pet store?" she joked.

He shook his head. "I won't leave this room. Close your eyes."

She hesitated.

"Close. Your. Eyes," he repeated.

Too curious to resist, she did as he asked. Immediately, she heard the sound of a piece of paper being ripped from the notebook. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He quickly looked at her and saw her eyes creeping open. "Keep 'em closed," he ordered, folding the paper in half.

Rory obediently shut them again and, relying on a different sense instead, tried to find a clue among the noises he was making. All she heard was the slight rustle of paper and the soft rise and fall of their breath.

The dark silence made her uncomfortable, so, seeking distraction, she started to talk. "I've seen those Magicians' Secrets Revealed specials, you know? I'm well aware that you're probably rigging some magnetic contraption right now." She paused. "Right?"

Jess didn't respond, which only made Rory more uncomfortable. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes closed. "They weren't actually that impressive. Those specials, I mean. Anyone could figure out the secrets. Did you see them?"

He still didn't answer. Was he even there?

"Jess?" she called nervously.

"Hold on," he replied, picking up a pen.

Only marginally calmed by the sound of his voice, she began talking again. "I don't really think it's magic if your audience can't see what you're doing. For all I know, you could be breeding two rabbits right now. My eyes have been closed long enough. Although, if you already had two rabbits, it wouldn't really make a lot of sense to breed another one. Either one of the first two would do the trick. Plus, I doubt Luke just keeps rabbits lying around."

Finished, Jess set his creation on the table and turned his attention back to Rory. He could tell by the way she was fidgeting that she didn't like having her eyes closed. But he didn't tell her to open them. So she just kept babbling. As she talked, his eyes trailed over the contours of her face. The soft peach hue of her skin. The dark lashes at the ends of her closed eyes. The wisp of hair that had fallen loose against her face. The hurried, nervous movement of her lips.

If he just…

Without giving it as much thought as he probably should have, he leaned forward. She was mumbling something about being sawed in half when the feel of his lips brushing against hers suddenly cut off her words. She paused, too surprised to respond, wondering if she was imagining it. A slow shiver swept across her, followed by a flurry of soft tingles.

He pulled away.

Instinctively, she reached out, her fingers landing gently on his cheek and stopping him. She felt his whole body tense uncertainly, unsure of her next move. Without hesitation, she guided him towards her again. Beneath her touch, he relaxed and silently followed her lead. Rory smiled, a cozy warmth washing over her as she felt him draw close. For the first time in her life, she forgot to think or second-guess. She forgot there was anything to forget. Let something else take over. Let him.

He smelled lightly of cologne and coffee. She felt his nose brush lightly against hers as he dipped his head and angled it to meet hers. For a long moment, he hovered just beyond her grasp, the feel of his breath drifting over her lips and melding with her own. Then, so close, she felt his mouth curve upwards ever so slightly. She smiled in return and captured his lips with hers. They both paused, motionless, as if they weren't sure what to do next. Then, gently, Jess began to kiss her in earnest. His jaw moved beneath her fingertips as the kiss deepened. He tasted like apples and cinnamon. Softer than she'd expected. Different. Perfect.

An unfamiliar feeling swept over Rory, and she suddenly felt dizzy. As if sensing her unsteadiness, Jess lifted his hand and trailed his fingers along the soft skin of her cheek. Little pinpricks danced across her hairline and down her spine as he delicately smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned closer but lightened the kiss so she could get her bearings.

Without warning, the reality of the situation crashed over Rory like a tidal wave, and guilty tears sprang to her eyes. She abruptly pulled away, the loss of his touch jarring her even more. She stared at the table, refusing to look at him, trying to focus. Her eyes moved wildly as she desperately tried to remember how to think. If only she could think. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of unfamiliar white, and her mind stood still. Sitting among the textbooks was a little origami rabbit. She reached out and picked it up, running her fingers across its tiny, hand-drawn eyes, nose, and whiskers. Perfectly folded. Perfectly drawn. Perfect.

"I have to go," Rory whispered, still not looking at him. She quickly gathered her books and stood up. As she reached for her coat, she hesitated. Then, she set something on the table and left.

Jess had been watching her the entire time, his refusal to look away from her just as strong as her inability to look at him. He saw her searching for answers. He saw her confusion. And, for a moment, when he saw her reaction to the rabbit, he could've sworn he'd felt something strangely similar to hope. Then, just as quickly, he watched her leave, the departing chime of the diner bell adding insult to injury. He listened, waiting. Heard a door slam. An engine rev. And then she was gone.

Running a hand through his hair, he cursed silently and lowered his eyes. He sat there for a while, staring at the table until the frustration and confusion began to slip away. Then, with a sigh, he stood and went upstairs, leaving behind his books and her perfect origami rabbit.