Disclaimer: I do not own anything, but I do wish I owned Wayne Wilcox. Amy Sherman owns it and I am borrowing some of her brilliant lines to make the story work.

Author's Note: I started this back in 2004. I am reloading and editing the grammar from my original publication. This chapter did not change much in context but future chapters will have more details added.

Chapter 1

It was getting dark; Rory and her mother just finished their meal and ice cream. While walking towards the parking lot, and Rory's dorm, they spotted Marty. Rory called out his name, but he turned and dashed. He hoped she would not follow, but he just could not face her. Rory was confused by the gesture but quickly focused back on her mother.

Staff meeting of the Yale Daily News was dragging on. Doyle was trying to gain everyone's attention but failed like usual. The only thing that made it interesting was Glenn's newfound witty responses. Rory was bored as usual with the ramble; something red caught her attention from outside. She turned to see Marty beckoning her to come outside. She was too eager to see what he had to say to be bothered to wait till the end of the meeting. Besides, Paris will fill her in anyways.

She grabbed her coat and walked out. On the way out, she was wondering what he wanted, and hopefully, he would explain his mysterious behaviour the previous night.

They had fallen out of touch recently, but she really missed him. He was one of her closest friends in her first year at Yale. She had a few classes with him and therefore they had some common grounds to start their friendship. Soon, he was over more and more for movie nights, and just hanging out. Then they promised to keep in touch other the summer, and they did with a few exchanged emails. It did not really go beyond that. Summer was also a busy time for Rory since all that happened, and the trip to Europe with Grandma. Then Dean was once again in her life, now they have finished for good. Rory was trying to gain some perspective on where their friendship had gone astray and decided this was as good an opportunity as any to rekindle it.

"Now that's a manly size cup of coffee" She started.

"Yea I, uh… I worked late, and I had a paper and I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Marty, you never have to apologize for a huge cup of coffee to me."

"Right, I know." He was embarrassed that he didn't remember this essential fact about her. He took a sip and started to walk to hide his face turning red.

Rory caught on to this, and continued to make him talk. "You've been pretty busy lately huh?"

"Yes."

"Working a lot?"

"Yes."

"Studying a lot?"

"Yes."

"That is probably why I haven't seen you lately." She stated simply.

"Yes. Probably."

With a bit more feeling she added, "Miss you. A lot."

He was about to raise his cup to take another sip but lowered it at this. Did she miss me? He was surprised. He thought she would have forgotten all about him. "I'm sure you've been busy yourself."

"I guess." She added in her mind. Well, if you can call being stuck in paper meetings with Doyle talking on and on about his expectations and ideas, being busy.

An idea struck her, "Hey listen, are you working this weekend?"

"Uh, nope."

"Great, because I've been thinking, it's been ages since we've had a good hang out night."

"Oh… well…"

"We could watch DVDs, order food and oh, I just got the Marx brothers box set. You love the Marx brothers. Duck soup."

"I don't know if I can-…"

"Did you hear me? I just said Duck soup."

"Rory,"

"We could watch them all, you know start early, make a major marathon thing out of it. Just us, we haven't done this in a long time. Please?"

He gave in. "Okay."

"Really?" She sighed, "Ah…Great!" then hugged him.

There was a short pause, then she asked, "On Saturday, 3ish?"

"Three-ish it is."

"Excellent, really." She proceeded towards the building that she came from. "I have to get back and you have a lot of coffee to drink, so I'll see you Saturday."

"See you Saturday."

She ran off, and he stood there dumbfounded at what just occurred. Why didn't he decline? He found the more he wanted her, the less he could stand the idea of just hanging out like they used to. As friends.