AN: I guess you could call this a filler chapter. Or a Rory and Jack mostly chapter.

Mari(WinonaForever): Thanks for reviewing. As always.

Leanan Sidhe: "I like how you are using your word plays here. Very witty in their simplicity." Right, I didn't know I was doing that. Thanks for reviewing. I totally forgot about the backstory-ness. I knew there was something I was forgetting burried in my mind somewhere, I just needed someone to point it out.

SavvyKiwi: Suggestions are always good. I knew Rory's character wasn't down very well, and it's kinda sad cause I've been watching GG since the first season.... But I'm just gonna blame it on lack of coffee. And I've been trying the asteric thingy and it always gets erased. I don't know why I didn't think of putting the "Jack POV" thing earlier. Ha. Psst. My thinga-ma-whatsit doesn't have spell check, but I'll try the dictionary sometime.

CHAPTER...Something.

(Rory POV)

I was sitting on the bed of the guest bedroom, with a book in hand and coffee in me. Once I had calmed down enough to tell Elizabeth what was wrong, she immediately got on it. Or rather, she got one of the male servants on it. I think she was just sick of me... doing what I was doing. I couldn't remember what had happened, but Will said that I wouldn't stop singing about money. I guess I had become a different person. I wonder what would happen to my mom if she went without coffee for three weeks. She'd be eating bark or something like that.

I've been gone for three weeks! How did the time travel thing work out in the book? Um, the time passed in the girl's world, the future, it didn't wait for her. What would mom think? Spring break was only a week long, what would she think if I didn't come and visit her? What would grandma think if I didn't come for those Friday night dinners? I rarely missed them. Would the call the police when they find out I'm gone? Of course they would.

Mom would appear calm and cool and grandma would be hysterical. Like she was when I accidentally stayed out all night with Dean two years ago. Grandpa, of course, would be the rock for when mom's cool exterior would crack. I missed them. How would I get home?

There was a knock on the door.

"Rory?" Came Elizabeth's voice.

"Yes?"

"Are you decent?"

I looked down at myself.

"I think so."

"Lovely, I'm coming in."

"Hullo," she said as she opened the door, "It's almost time for dinner. I will help you get dressed so you can go down."

"Okay."

"I'm assuming that means yes?"

"Yes, yes it does." Was 'Okay' a word back then?

"Here, you can borrow one of my dresses. We're the same height, I think. Follow me." She said as she walked into the hall and into her room.

She opened her closet doors where there were three large chests on the floor. She opened the chests and simply said "Pick one."

Pick one? Just like that? Well, if that's what she said, then why not.

I dropped down on my knees and began rummaging through all of the colorful clothing. Some were bright pink with puffy sleeves and some were green with tight sleeves and some were... just wrong. Finally, at the bottom of the second chest, I found it. It was a plain midnight blue dress that seemed to be made of silk with tight sleeves and a square cut neckline.

"Nice choice," said Elizabeth from behind me, "I'll help you put it on."

(Later)

'I'll help you put it on.' my ass. Twenty minutes of struggling with a damn corset. And for what? A crushed ribcage and no room in my equally crushed stomach for food. This dinner better suck.

(Dinner)

"Rum?" Asked the man seated across from me at the table.

"No thank you, I don't drink." I replied.

"Not at all?"

"No, not at all." Well, sure I'd had the occasional sip of wine, but I didn't want this guy thinking there was anyway to make me drink the crap.

"Elizabeth? Would YOU like some rum? You know what? Forget I asked, Rum Burner." He mumbled under his breath.

Elizabeth ignored that and turned to me. "You haven't eaten anything on your plate, are you not hungry?" She asked.

"No, I'm really not." I lied as politely as I could. Of course I wasn't going to eat. We were having a delicious roast for dinner along with some delicious rolls. I knew that if I had one bite of that, I wouldn't be able to stop and they'd have to use the dirty man's cutlass to cut me out of this dress. "Well, maybe I am." Ugh. I had no power over roast.

"So, luv," said the dirty man, "What was it that ye were singin' earlier?"

"I don't remember." I said, suddenly becoming transfixed. There was something in his eyes, a glint of some sort that reminded me of someone back home. But who?

"How can ye not remember?"

"I forgot." Luke? Was it our coffee guy Luke?

"Well," Will spoke up for the first time since dinner started, "Elizabeth? Isn't it time for dessert?"

"Oh yes. I'll go get it now. Would you like to help me Will?" What were they doing, trying to leave me with this... person?

"So," began the man the minute Will and Elizabeth had disappeared, "Would you like some rum?"

"No."

"Are ye sure?"

"Yes."

"Are ye really sure?"

"I'm more sure than the day I was at my surest."

"Surest?"

"Yes, surest."

"Oh well, more for me then." He said before he took a big gulp from the opaque bottle in his hand.

And then, there was silence. Jack twiddled his thumbs, I checked for dirt under my nails.

"I'm Jack, by the way. I'm a pirate." Pirate? Was he serious? He sounded like a little kid claiming to be Peter Pan.

"Well Jack-"

"Captain."

"Captain," Why tell me his name was Jack without telling me not to call him Jack?. "Well, I'm Rory and-"

"Rory? Isn't that a bit o' an unusual name fer a girl?" This guy had serious interrupting problems.

"Well, my real name's Lorelai, but-"

"Lorelai. The siren. Now that's a lovely name. Why don't you go by Lorelai?" He took another swig of rum.

"My mother is Lorelai."

"Would SHE like some rum?"

"Probably."

"Ah finally, someone who appreciates the drink."

More silence in which Jack repeatedly scratched his cheek and I rubbed the back of my neck.

Suddenly, he took his fork and stabbed one of the potatoes on his plate. "See this potato?" he said, "His name is Marcus. Marcus is hated by all men, aren't ye Mr. Marcus? You know why he is hated?"

"No." I was transfixed again. Potato people. Who at home did that?

"Marcus? Would you like to explain?" He then began to speak in an odd accent, "Sure, I would. You know why I'm hated? Because I dance, I dance like a girly man. And the others are just jealous because they can't be manly girly men. Like me." Arnold Schwarzenegger?

"My MOTHER!"

"What?" His voice was back to normal.

"You remind me of my mother!" I yelled pointing at him.

"Yer mother? Couldn't I have reminded you of a past lover or somethin'? Did it have to be yer mum?"

"Don't look at me. You're the one who's acting like my mother." I shrugged at him.

"Well. Was she at least an interestin' woman?" Jack asked with a funny face. One that kind of said, 'Well, if it's going to be yer mum....'

Before I could reply, Will came in with a plate of chocolate cake in each hand with Elizabeth trailing behind.