Summary: This is a short, one-shot fanfic about Rory discovering a few thing that have always been there, somewhere below the surface.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my mind. Amy Sherman-Palladino owns my Tuesday nights, and all the characters mentioned below.

A/N: I wrote this fanfic a while ago…think the end of the second season. I never got around to submitting it before, but I finally have. Read and review, please…this is my first fanfic and I would appreciate as much feedback, especially negative, that you would have to offer. Thanks!

Nancy

"The Truth About... Myself."

Three voices, simultaneously, called out "Rory?" She tried to find the sources, but the heavy fog made it difficult. The first person she found was Dean. As usual, he had a stern look on his face

"What do those other guys want with you? And who are they? You aren't cheating on me, are you?" accused Dean.

"Cheat on Dean, why would I ever cheat on Dean, who has been perfect to me?" Rory thought to herself. "Why would I, why did I? What am I going to tell him?"

Not even bothering to respond, Rory looked for the other two people. The fog seemed to be getting thicker at each moment. Finally, she saw the faint outline of a person. She took two steps towards the figure when she bumped into him. One step back, and he wasn't clear to her, but she would know that person anywhere.

"Mary, Mary, Mary. You just couldn't keep yourself from this body... not that I blame you," stated a smirking Tristan.

Then, the fog cleared for a moment -- just a brief moment of time, like something out of a dream. But in this brief moment, she saw the look on Tristan's face change from cocky to, well, other than saying pitiful, it's hard to describe. The fog replaced the fuzziness suddenly, and Tristan spoke once again.

"Rory, I will be serious this time. I've fallen for you. I miss not having you in my life. I miss you in so many ways, for so many reasons. But most of all, I am haunted by that kiss we shared. The kiss that made my life worth living and the tears that followed which took away all joy I've ever experienced," Tristan confessed. "Now I want to know how you feel about me."

"Well, Rory, how do you feel about Tristan?" That nagging voice kept following her. "How am I supposed to know," she thought. "I haven't had a good talk, which would most likely turn into a cute banter session, with him, for the longest time. But I will admit, that kiss haunted me too."

Once again, Rory left without a response to seek the third voice. She saw a faint shadow. She followed it, getting nowhere. She started to run, trying to figure out who this was, and what he wanted to know, what he wanted from her. She ran around Dean, not giving him a second glance, and passed by Tristan, with a pleading look in her eye. She stopped for a moment, but when he gave her a slight shake of the head, she continued. She ended up by the bridge, the one she shared so many memories of Jess with.

"It must be Jess," she thought. "But why can't I find him?"

She still saw the shadows, moving about her. About to start running, she stopped herself. She was short of breath, and she might fall off the bridge. The fog was so heavy, she couldn't see her feet. If it weren't for the feel of the bridge around her, she wouldn't have known where she was. So she did the most reasonable thing she could think of.

"Jess?" she called out. "Where are you? What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Not fun, is it?" she heard his voice call out.

"What isn't fun? The fact that I'm killing myself to get to you and you keep running? The fact that I'm doing everything I am able to do, but you still ignore me? Yeah, it's loads of fun. Why don't you do it sometime?"

"Rory, I've been doing it for so long now. I wanted to let you know what I'm going through."

"What do you mean?" asked a confused Rory. "And, why did you choose me?"

"Rory, Rory, Rory. Don't you understand? I have this goal that I've been chasing, and I'm doing everything I can to achieve it, but every step I take towards it, it becomes farther and farther away from me."

"And this has to do with me how?"

"You're the goal I've been chasing after. I want you, and I need you in my life."

"I want you too."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it. A boyfriend, and some preppy kid - was Tristan his name? - that you have on your mind. I sure feel the love there."

"I don't care about Dean, and, yes, I have feelings for Tristan, but they're from the past. I only care about you."

"Prove it."

The voice faded away, as did the shadows. Rory was left with Dean in her face.

"So you don't care about me?"

Her silence was the only answer he needed.

"Well, I guess if you don't care for me, we should call it quits. Bye Rory."

Rory almost felt guilty ... almost. She didn't have time to dwell on her feelings, because a certain preppy came her way.

"So, you used to care about me. Better than never," Tristan admitted.

"Well, yea," Rory added lamely.

"So, do you think there's any chance for us in the future?"

"There is a slight chance, yes. You're an amazing person inside. You have to be able to find that person in you, and then we could talk about the idea of an 'us'."

"That gives me something to think about."

"Me too."

"Bye Mary."

Rory woke up in bed, panting. She wasn't panting from the dream. It wasn't an exhausting dream like some are. She was panting because it was a dream, and not a nightmare. She was panting because, instead of being afraid, she was happy. The scariest thing of all was the fact that she knew she no longer cared for Dean, that she once had feelings for Tristan, and that now, she fell for Jess.

Turning on her side, Rory stole a glance at her alarm clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. "Here's to a Saturday morning wasted," she thought. And she proceeded to daydream about Jess until her mother awoke.

"Not a good night?" a disheveled Lorelai asked.

"Actually," Rory decided, "It wasn't that bad. It was refreshing." She smiled at the thought. Her and Jess a refreshing thought. Good girl meets bad boy. As she sat down at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in her hand, she decided that yes, it was refreshing, almost as refreshing as coffee in the morning.