Title: Silence

Author: Cheeza

Summary: Silence. It can be comforting, awkward, peaceful, damning, a time to reflect or, in Rory's case, wreck a relationship.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Sorry!

A/N: So, it's been over a year since I've written anything but I got the urge to write a Gilmore Girls fic all of a sudden. It might have something to do with the appearance of the lovely Matt Czuchry on the show.

I want to apologise for any mistakes about the show – I've only actually seen Season One (damn UK TV!) of the Gilmore Girls. Mostly, I've just caught some clips here and there online and fell in love with Rory/Logan. I'm not so great with the witty banter or 'Roryisms' so I'm sorry if it seems a little OOC. Enjoy!

Have you ever had one of those moments that you wish you could completely obliterate from history? I mean, have you ever done something so monumentally stupid it makes you wonder if everyone around you has been over-estimating your intelligence for the past however many years you've graced this planet? Now, I'm not talking about one of those embarrassing moments where you're rushing to class late because you fell asleep over a pile of books – and have the attractive crease marks down one side of your face to prove it - after being up all night writing an essay and subsequently slept in. So you're in a hurry and you somehow manage to trip over your own feet (in the most graceful was possible of course) and land – in front of about fifty of your peers, cause it just not funny otherwise – on your ass with hot coffee seeping into your brand new, never-been-worn-before white sweater and your books thrown haphazardly around you in every direction. We've all done that – in most cases it's just another Monday morning. And if there's anything I've learned after all my years of best-that-money-can-buy education, it's that gravity is not my friend.

No, I'm not talking about some trivial humiliating event that a few years of therapy can fix – I'm a Gilmore…we're made of stronger stuff than that and, living with my Mother, what's a couple more years on the Doctor's couch anyway? No, what I mean is one of those mistakes that you just know is going to change everything – and not just you're route to class in order to save yourself from further embarrassment. A moment in time where everything just…falls apart. And afterwards you just want to bitch-slap yourself because you know that if you had done things even just a little differently…Ugh!

So hands up – who's had one of those defining moments of idiocy? Uh Huh. Just what I thought. Of course knowing that I'm surrounded by similar idiots doesn't really make me feel any better right now but I suppose it means I have more people to invite to my pity party.

And who the hell am I you ask…

As I mentioned before, I'm a Gilmore. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore III if you want what's on my birth certificate. Daughter of Lorelai Gilmore and Christopher Hayden and Granddaughter of Emily and Richard Gilmore if you want to get really specific. Generally, people just call me Rory. I have also been known to go by Mary (call me that and die!), Ace, Mini me (as well as multitude of other nicknames my Mother has bestowed upon my through the years) and, on occasion, 'You there!' But really, I prefer Rory.

I'm twenty years old. I come from a…colourful little town called Stars Hollow and I am in my Sophomore year at Yale. I've got brown hair, blue eyes and…well this isn't a Singles Ad. so let's move on. I guess, if you were to ask people about me, the general consensus would be that I'm intelligent (although, as previously stated, I'm severely doubting the reliability of this statement), witty and a little bit sheltered. Some might call me naïve; others would be less tactful (thank you Paris!) and call me completely clueless. I'm opinionated, I can be argumentative, I love to read and write, I can quote an excessive amount of movies references that would probably scare most people, I'm addicted to coffee (even if my white sweater isn't) and I love my Mom.

Pleased to meet you.

Now that we have the introductions out of the way, we can get back to the origin of my current angst. By this point in time, you may or may not be questioning my sanity (or possibly even your own) and pondering on the fact that I seem to be a drama queen. And that's your right. I mean, if you came up to me and started babbling (it's a bad habit, I know) about a mistake you had made in your life and predicting the end of the world as we know it due to said mistake…I'd probably be inching away slowly, wondering what the hell had shaken loose from your tree, all the while subtly signalling for those lovely men with their top-of-the-range white coats to come show you the way back to the hospital. Either that or I'd tell you to get to the friggin' point already!

Let's clear this up before we get any further on in this tale of flighty princesses and scary roommates...Add on a disclaimer if you will…I promise to try keep the hyperbole and melodrama to a minimum. Being the sole child of Lorelai Gilmore, I admit it will be difficult but I digress. So sit back, relax and keep your hands in the vehicle at all times. And remember, as much as I joke and to have a tendency to babble on incoherently (which is pretty likely – it's a nervous thing), things in my life aren't great at the moment. I have done something stupid that has hurt one of the people I care about most. I made a mistake and I'm not all that sure what I have to do to fix it or make it up to this person. I don't know much of anything right now. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. You need a bit more back story – am I right?

It happened earlier on today. It was one of those moments in your life where you know that no matter what you say, things are going to say. All you can do is assume crash landing position and hope that things are going to change for the better instead of the worst. Or, at the very least, you make it out alive. Everything depends on you saying the right thing. So, you ask, what did I say that has screwed things up so immensely? All the words in the English language, all the words contained in my ivy-league educated brain and at a time when it was so important for me to say something, anything at all, I opened my mouth and…nothing. Absolutely zero, zilch, nada…I couldn't even breathe.

Okay, so I guess I'm gonna have to go further back than that because I still see some confused faces in the crowd. What's the one thing that would drive an otherwise intelligent, articulate, woman to brain freeze? That's right! As always, in stories such as these, it all started with a boy…

Make a girl happy and review ;)