Summary: But he was just beginning, had just started a story's exposition. The ending had always been his favorite part.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NUZZING!

A/N: I wrote this a while ago, and have been trying my hardest to make it excellent. I am definitely one of those people who think that there's more to Jess than the badass jerk that Lorelai and a lot of the citizens of Stars Hollow, as well as some Gilmore Girls fans, would like to think. Getting into Jess's head and trying to write something from his partial point-of-view was extremely difficult, and my version of him may be different than everyone else's. But I hope that I did the character justice, at least.

Another A/N: I feel so badly for this! I've written this story and completely forgotten to credit the person that made it better. Thanks to SuperiorityComplex88 for reading this over and telling me what sucked:-)

Exposition

She had been sitting there for thirty minutes. Five of those minutes she had spent deciding whether or not she wanted extra whipped cream on her peach pie; she had concluded that this was an occasion where extra whipped cream was necessary. Fifteen more of these minutes had been spent waiting on and eating the previously mentioned pie. And for the past ten minutes, she had been staring at the empty plate in front of her and doing nothing but pushing the small crumbs on her plate around with her fork.

Jess was trying to ignore her. He was failing miserably.

When Rory had walked in, she had exchanged the usual pleasantries and taken a seat in a table in the corner. She had also spoken aloud to him about her debate involving the whipped cream issue—a one-sided conversation that Jess took care to remain quiet during, guessing that her rambling was just a means to fill the silence in the empty diner—and had finally ordered. During that brief encounter, however, Jess could tell that Rory was upset and needed some time to herself. So he left her alone.

It was right after she had taken the last bite of her pie that he began to worry. She had just eaten an entire peach pie in under twenty minutes, when it usually took her at least thirty-five. And it was peach. No one ate peach pie.

"Stop staring. You'll creep out the customers."

Jess turned around to see his Uncle Luke smirking at him. He immediately looked back down at the book he had been trying to read and muttered, "I'm not staring."

"Did she just eat that entire thing?"

Jess glanced up at her once more. "Yup."

Luke looked stunned. He shook his head and said, "Unbelievable! She's broken her own record."

"Fascinating," Jess deadpanned, making sure he looked as if he were reading. As if he didn't care.

It was a few more minutes before Luke retreated back into the storage room, muttering something about sarcasm and headaches. Jess looked nonchalantly over his shoulder to make sure that Luke couldn't see him before he stood up straight and closed his book. Rory had had enough alone time. Anymore and she would have to buy herself some cats.

Rory was drawn from her lengthy reverie by a book being slid into her line of vision. She paused in her scrutiny of the tabletop to examine the thin paperback in front of her. Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. She looked up the length of the book to find a hand still resting on its cover. Slowly, she continued up farther until she was looking at Jess's torso, then his shoulders, then his face, and finally into Jess's eyes.

"I told you I had it," Jess spoke, referring to their discussion in the bookstore earlier that day about whether the tattered copy they had found was worthy enough of being purchased. "It's in much better condition, just like I promised. None of the pages are falling out, at least."

Rory said nothing. But she wasn't looking away from him, either.

"You can borrow it if you'd like."

Rory instantly looked slightly happier. She smiled and asked, "Really?"

He merely shrugged, a gesture that Rory took to mean as a yes. She picked the book up from the table and began flipping through the pages, stopping occasionally to read the notes that Jess had written in the margins. Still taking in every detail of the paperback, Rory asked, "Is it good? Because I don't want to waste my time. I have plenty of other interesting books to choose from."

"I enjoyed it," Jess answered truthfully. "It can be a little tedious sometimes; the entire thing is an allegory. Every single character in there stands for something. I didn't even pick up on that until I read it for the second time. And even then, I had to peruse through one of those reading guides for morons."

Rory gasped. She teased, "Jess Mariano? Touching a reading guide?"

"You're not gonna hold it against me, are you?" Jess asked in a tone of mock worry.

Rory laughed and shook her head. "Some authors are just too complex and confusing."

"Ayn Rand, for instance?" Jess said innocently.

She glared at him and returned to her investigations of the book. She was grinning like an idiot, holding the book as if it were a precious item. She was happier, and Jess was pleased that he had cheered her up a bit. But something was still bothering her. He could tell by the way that she kept glancing out the window, or at the curtain that led to the second story of the diner, or at anything else that her gaze happened to rest. Beneath her cool, happy façade, she was uncomfortable.

"What's it about, exactly?"

"Letting children make their own choices and mistakes without adult interference. That's one of the biggest reasons it appealed to me."

Even before Jess finished his last sentence, Rory's face fell. Jess frowned and watched as she shifted nervously in her seat. The book that she had been so eagerly pawing through was set back on the table at once. She continued staring at it afterwards, and she looked as if it had recently burned her.

"Rory?" Jess didn't have to mock his worry this time. It was sincere.

Rory looked away from the book, away from him, and away from their table.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said quietly, and a little too quickly.

That's why she wasn't looking him in the eye. If she were, he would quickly be able to tell that she was lying. She knew that. But he knew she was lying anyway, and he didn't particularly want her to shut him out.

"Look at me," he said gruffly. She didn't move. So he tried again, this time in a tone that he had constantly been forced to use on the streets back home. "Look at me."

He watched her profile as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, slowly, Rory moved her head. Only slightly, and only enough for her to look out of the corner of her eye at him.

"At least come up with something interesting that could possibly sound like the truth."

"I shouldn't even be here," Rory once again diverged away from the question.

"Then go," Jess snapped. He hadn't meant to get angry, but he had taken the chance to reach out to her, only to be pushed away. Now he remembered why he never did things like this. Next time he would just react with his usual indifference.

She looked away again, relieved, and grabbed her purse from the seat beside her. She remained in her seat, however, uncertainty radiating off of her. Despite his irritation, Jess found himself hoping that she would stay. Because no matter how hard he tried otherwise, he would never be able to feel indifferent towards Rory. His mother—yes. Luke—maybe (most likely not). But he cared too much about Rory to let her walk out of the diner right now. He couldn't ask her to stay. That would break their already established and unspoken agreement to avoid any form of intimacy. And that would give her the right to leave.

It seemed ages before Rory took her hand away from her purse. Jess exhaled the breath he hadn't even been aware that he was holding and looked back at Rory. He was surprised to find her looking back at him, her eyes full of determination, hesitation, and sadness. He didn't look away. He couldn't. He was afraid she would change her mind if he did.

"I had a fight with my mom," Rory revealed. "This wasn't a Leave It to Beaver family argument, either. It was full-out, take no prisoners, Mommy Dearest fighting."

He should have guessed. If it had been something else, Lorelai would have been in here with her daughter sharing the food designed specifically for wallowing. She probably would have talked Rory into a different flavored pie, as well.

"What--"

"Jess! Come help me with this!" Luke's shout interrupted Jess's question.

Jess glared at the storage room and answered, "I'm off!"

"You've got nothing better to do," Luke's disgruntled voice came from inside the room. "Get in here!"

Jess shook his head in frustration and turned toward Rory. "You wanna go outside?"

"But what about--?"

"Good," Jess cut her off. "Let's go."

They had both put on their coats and were halfway out the door before Luke's yell rang out once more. Jess hurried outside and shut the door before he could register what his uncle had said. That way, the excuse "I didn't hear you" would be somewhat true.

Rory had already begun walking and was so far ahead of him that Jess had to run to catch up to her. Once he was beside her, she stared straight ahead of her and, unsurprisingly, said nothing. It was unnecessary for him to ask any more questions. Following him outside was a way of telling him that she would talk sooner or later. So he remained silent, and decided to observe her instead.

She was positioned in her usual emotional/defensive stance: head down, eyes low, shoulders rolled slightly forward. She walked with her hand shoved in her pockets and her steps were long and forceful; Jess could practically hear the sound her feet made as they came in contact with the ground. Jess could hardly keep up with her. It was as if she thought, by walking quickly enough, she could run away from her problems. And Rory Gilmore was an expert at running away.

It couldn't be healthy, her ability to ignore any obstacle that was thrown her way. Sure, that specific trait could be a blessing in some circumstances, such as in her difficulties at Chilton. Those problems she walked right into and shattered easily. But there were other things that could not be avoided without pain, regret, or both following as a result. Jess didn't want to be there when she collided with those problems, most likely because he would find himself whiplashed along with her. He would try to save her, and he would fail.

Jess's glance shifted to Rory's face, and he attempted to find what it was about this girl that was so unique. He didn't remember ever caring enough about someone to consider "saving" them from imaginary danger. Why was it, then, that he was doing so with her? Was it her eyes? No. It couldn't be, because, although they were mesmerizing and a stunning shade of blue, he had seen eyes like that before. Her mouth? Not that either. True, the witty remarks and the shy smiles that were formed by it made her extremely appealing, but there were mouths that were redder, or thicker, that were just as good as hers. The shape of her face, possibly? There were other girls whose faces were that shape, although hers did seem to enhance her innocence. And her hair was nothing remarkable—just a shade of brown that she shared with dozens of other human beings.

It wasn't just one thing about her, then. It was all of it. It was the way her eyes, which sat perfectly on her round face, filled with emotion when her mouth formed a frown, or a grin, or a shout, that made Rory desirable to Jess. All of it together had made him break his own rule of apathy for everything and everyone around him. He cared for her, and he had already decided that that was unwise.

"Are you going to sit down?"

They had arrived at a bench, and he hadn't even noticed. Rory was already sitting down. Apparently, she was ready to talk.

"What happened?" Jess asked once he was sitting next to her.

Rory shrugged and said, "I did something she didn't agree with. She stated her opinion, I stated mine. Only we did it with our voices raised."

What could she have done that could anger Lorelai so much? Her mother was pretty lenient, after all, and Rory always told her what she was doing even before she did it. Besides, Rory had been with him for almost the entire…

Then it hit him. It was obvious, of course. It was no secret that Lorelai, along with many others, disliked him. Jess sighed and stated, "You fought about me."

Rory's eyes widened in shock. "How did you--?"

"I'm not an idiot, Rory." It was Jess's turn to look away.

An uneasy silence descended upon them. Neither of them had enough faith in themselves to break it, afraid that they would say the wrong thing. This lack of conviction merely prolonged the silence, until Jess was unable to stand it any longer. Obviously, Rory was uncomfortable, as well. She was the first to break the ice.

"Why don't they trust you?" she blurted out. "The entire town seems to think that you're a delinquent who is a threat to society. It doesn't make any sense. If they would just take the time to get to know you--"

"They won't," Jess stopped her before she could waste her breath. "They never do. They see me as they want to see me: unpredictable, hazardous. That's just the way it is."

"They're wrong," Rory said immediately. It was almost as if it had been a knee-jerk reaction.

Jess looked at Rory in amazement. She was unlike anyone he had met. She trusted everything and everyone, even when others were backing away in fear or suspicion. Perhaps that was why she could ignore her problems so easily—she created her own perception of something and embraced it, even if it was far from the truth. If she didn't want to face something, she convinced herself it wasn't there. Similarly, she trusted him to be the person that everyone else thought he couldn't.

He smirked. It was unfair to put so much trust in him when he had absolutely none for her. So he said, "How can you be so sure?"

Unfortunately, the minute the words had left his mouth, he realized how wrong he was. He did trust her, probably more than he should. He read the books she suggested, even though one of them was a book he had vowed never to lay eyes on again. He had eaten the "food" she had packed in her auction basket, although that had turned out badly. (And that was more of a result of jealousy than trust.) His trust became painfully clear after his reaction to her next words.

"They're wrong," she repeated, rather forcefully.

Oddly enough, he believed her.

"Besides, it's wrong to judge someone by what you first see."

That was too much. It was so absurd that Jess laughed. Rory looked at him, confusion written all over her face. He was laughing too hard to explain that statement's humor, and her confusion turned swiftly into annoyance. Jess forced himself to calm down before she became angry.

"It's human nature to judge each other," Jess managed to say. "It's impossible not to."

"You're quite the pessimist."

"No, I'm a realist. You're lying if you tell me that you didn't judge me the first time that you met me."

"I didn't."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're lying again."

"I think I would know if I were lying or not. I'm not."

"Your nose is getting pretty long there, Pinocchio."

"Jess!"

He was trying to hold back his laughter this time, knowing that it would frustrate her. He could continue like this—and he could tell that this would entertain him for a while—but he decided that it was too dangerous. She probably had a rather large book in her purse, after all, and she could pull it out at any moment. He didn't want to find out if Rory became a violent person when taunted.

"I judged you," he informed her. "I thought you were naïve."

"What?"

Okay, he probably shouldn't have said that. It was true, and he still believed it, but he should have stuck with a safer topic. Like the weather. That wouldn't have offended her, and it wouldn't have made her feel as if she needed to defend herself.

"How could you think that?" Rory began her tirade. "You took one look at me and knew what I was like? I wasn't aware that a person's character was as easy to see as their eye color. Because, personally, I don't have the ability to know if someone is friendly or grumpy by glancing at them. Short or tall, yes. But not personality traits."

"It wasn't one encounter," Jess tried to explain. "It was a series of them. It became more obvious that you were naïve the more I talked to you. It was just a hunch at first."

"I am not naïve!"

"It's not a bad thing, Rory!" Jess assured her.

"How is having a childish simplicity at my age a good thing?"

"You don't let many people influence you," Jess answered. Rory immediately shut up, surprised at his answer. "You take on a goal without hearing what everyone else thinks about it and you go for it. That's a good thing."

She hadn't been expecting that. Unsure of how to answer, she said simply, "Neither do you."

Was that how she saw him? He groaned inwardly, unable to believe that she had misjudged him so badly. She thought that his lack of emotion was a sign of determination; that he listened to the disapproval around him and continued on despite it. Really, though, he didn't take the chance to listen to it at all. It was why he took care to avoid familiarity with anyone. If everyone around him disliked him, it made it easier to dislike him or her back.

"It's not the same with me," Jess corrected her. She looked at him in a way that demanded an explanation. So he explained, "You're a social butterfly, Rory. You get close to people, trust them, and they do likewise for you. You're surrounded by people you care about. Which makes it harder when they're disappointed in you, because you want to make them happy. But you always remember what you want, and you always make sure that you get it. No matter what. I, however, get close to no one and trust nothing. It's much easier when I screw up, because it's what people expect of me."

He was aware of the irony. He was telling her that he didn't commit to anyone or anything, yet he was telling her things that he had never told anyone else. Things that he rarely ever admitted to himself. Unfortunately, it was becoming obvious that Rory was becoming more important than she should be. And that was definitely unwise.

"So being an asshole is a defensive mechanism?" she asked, teasing him. He only shrugged, not wanting to let any more of himself slip away. Her face lost its expression of humor, and she became thoughtful. Finally, she said, "Maybe it's time to try something new. It might be more rewarding than you think."

And, with an unintentional look that told him just how rewarding it could be, she left.

It was an interesting suggestion, especially coming from her. He was always open to new challenges. And he had already admitted to himself that he not only trusted Rory, but cared for her as well. It seemed, then, that he had already begun something new. But he was just beginning, had just started a story's exposition. The ending had always been his favorite part.

It might be more rewarding than you think.

He was looking forward to discovering how this would end.