A/N: He does know Rory has dropped out of Yale. Luke told him in Chapter 4, and he reflected on it during the fight in the last part of the family dinner. :) By now, he's aware of all her major indiscretions and has had time to process them, so if there's going to be an actual, productive chat, Rory is the only one who is in for any surprises- namely, Mena. And yea, the big talks will start to happen now, so buckle up. Nothing is going to come easily, if it does at all.
I would like to apologize for the lack of updates lately. School sucks, what can I say?
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Rory turned her head from one side and then to the other, investigating the room around her, and absolutely silent as she did so. At one point, she stood up, adjusted the sheets to cover herself modestly, and walked over to the book shelf to examine it with a scrutinous eye. Occasionally, she would pull one out, only to smile at the cover, and then set it back in with a hollow thock.
Jess stretched out on the bed, contented to watch her. This was a Rory he knew, one he loved even, and he had the privelege of her innocence for the next hour.
But she eventually picked herself off the floor, where she had sat down to more comfortably probe the lower levels. She proceeded to pad over to Jess afterwards, wearing this unreadable smile that could have been kind, or sly, pitying. Still, she said nothing and he didn't dare to either, allowing her to lead. Her weight sunk the mattress as she leaned on it, chest to the bed, to plant a chaste kiss on his mouth. "Merry Christmas, Jess," she spoke softly and then continued into the bathroom, scooping up her clothes as she did so.
Bewilderment didn't begin to embody the confusion that arose in her wake. What did he do now? Did he make her breakfast? Did he let her leave? Did he try to talk to her? What was it she wanted...or did she already get it? Sometimes, she could be so hard to read.
Jess analyzed his options and determined that he wanted her to stay. He wanted her to stay, and he wanted to talk- and yes, he would expand beyond monosyllabic responses to do so. He had a lot of questions, and an itch for closure if this was Rory's way of saying goodbye. Breakfast seemed the most conducive to adding precious minutes to her stay.
So that's what he did, after he set out some clean clothes for Rory to wear, just in case she had any mind to stay past the shower, just in case she wanted to talk.
He was dropping cool bacon into the pan when the phone rang. Jess considered picking it up, given that it was Christmas, but dismissed the idea quickly at the horrors that would accompany a phone call from his mother or Jimmy. Instead, he let it ring until the machine picked it up.
"This is Laurence Monette and Jess Mariano. Leave a message."
"Hey, Jess- it's Luke. Is Rory with you? Logan's put Lorelei into a panic about her missing and Liz mentioned that she called yesterday and asked about where you lived. Look, just call me back when you get this message."
The machine beeped with conclusion and Jess was left speechless. He was the only one who knew definitively where Rory was, at this point, though it may not have been for long. Did he call Luke back, so he could assuage Lorelei's fears? Did he play the message for Rory and ask her what to say, and maybe use it at as an opening for discussion? It wasn't exactly a friendly opening line, though.
He was sliding the bacon onto a plate lined with paper towels, debating what to do and attempting to start some eggs when Rory walked out of his room, wearing her own clothes. There was a smile on her face, though, more genuine than the one she greeted him with earlier. There was something more at ease about it, as if she'd washed off indecision with sweat in the shower.
"I thought I smelled something cooking," she commented as she came towards him. She stole a piece of bacon off the plate he had set next to the stove and planted a kiss on his cheek. There was a degree of awkardness in it, but smile she gave him when he looked up at her removed any trace of it instantaneously.
But he wasn't going to forget about Logan, or about the night before, or about Dean, or dropping out of Yale, or stealing the boat, or why she wasn't with anyone else but him on Christmas- he had too many questions and was going to do his damndest to get some answers.
Jess adverted his eyes back to the pan of eggs, unwilling to submit again, and gestured with a spatula'd hand towards the coffee pot at the intersection of the counters. "The coffee should be done now. The mugs are on top of the fridge."
Rory brushed against him as she made her way to the fridge. He could hear her set the mugs on the counter, followed by the clattering of a couple of plates. He heard her fill her mug. He heard her pick it up and then set it back down. But he wasn't going to look at her, he decided. He was going to make the eye contact count when he asked for a serious discussion.
She brushed against him again, carrying the dinnerware she had collected to the table. He followed shortly after with the eggs and bacon, grateful that she was going to take the opportunity to eat with him at least. It wasn't like Gilmore was going to pass up food, anyway, though.
It was predictably awkward when they both sat down, each silently eating. The table was small, so no words were necessary to acquire the salt, and Jess was too busy formulating an approach to look up from his plate. He could, however, feel her eyes burning holes through him and wondered what she was thinking. He hoped she was as confused as he was.
Jess heard the clang of her fork against her plate and the creak of the chair as she leaned back in it. All the better to view him with, he mused. She was going to do more than viewing, though, and shattered the silence. "Your book collection has grown," she commented neutrally.
Jess nodded his head, and implemented his conversation strategy, which was to give her just enough information to be curious. "It happens when you manage a bookstore. Most of the stuff that comes through is rare, but not necessarily movable. My boss' policy is to dump it on me if it sits on the shelf for more than nine months."
"That would explain the obscure authors and The Celtic Tiger. I never figured you for an economics enthusiast."
Jess chuckled lightly and stood up, collecting the plates to dump them in the sink. He was quick about it, though, because he didn't want her to leave. "Yea. The bottom shelf is full of things like that. The only book I ever bothered to read, I can't even remember the name of. Robert G. Ingersoll? He was a colonel in the Spanish-American war, and the "Great Agnostic." My girlfriend was in love with him."
Rory evaded the comment about the girlfriend reference, and slid a clean, twine-bound manuscript, about 500 pages thick onto the table. If he hadn't been so annoyed that she found it, he might have wondered how she snuck in into the kitchen.
"And this one? It looked interesting- The Stolen Howl, by Jack M. Danes." She leaned over the book, and read the summary aloud, 'A story about reclaiming what was lost.'"
He glanced up at her to catch the mischevious glint in her eye. The reference and the name similarity were obvious enough, so there was no denying it. "That wasn't on the bottom shelf," was all the response he could manage.
"Then you've read it?"
Jess delivered an amused glare in her direction. "Aside from writing it, no. What is it you're getting at Rory? Look at the copyright. I wrote it two years ago."
Rory looked off-put by his tone and recoiled a little. "I was just wondering why it was under your bed and not in a publisher's office, that's all."
Jess resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and responded flatly, "Because it's not meant to be read. It was a cathartic exercise, which I reflect back on from time to time."
She only nodded and pushed herself away from the table, "Well, it's been great seeing you again, Jess, but I better get going."
No lame excuse was attatched. It was just, "I'm leaving, so please let me go without protest." It was, "Sorry, you're not getting answers out of me." It was, "Sorry, I got what I wanted and now I'm leaving." It was, "Sorry, Jess, your strategy failed." It was, "Have a nice life." - Jess wasn't going to have any of it.
"So that's it, Rory? You come here and screw me in both senses of the word, and then leave? Is this your way of gaining closure- because if that's what we're doing here, you owe me just as much, and you're going to have to give me some answers before I get mine." His tone was commanding and irritated, and he looked straight into her eyes as he said every word.
"So you're the only one that gets to leave without explanation? The only one who gets to shout, "I love you," and walk off?" Rory laughed bitterly, and shoved the chair underneath the table. "I get it, Jess, and it's too bad, because I don't owe you anything. Have a nice life." She made a beeline for the door, and managed to make it out.
But Jess would pursue her. He ran after her, carelessly leaving his door unlocked, and caught the elevator door just in time to slip in. Rory groaned audibly and wore her disgust on her face. "Why does Logan keep calling your mother asking where you are? Why did you go to my mother to hunt me down? Why did you have an affair with Dean? Why did you drop out of Yale? Why did you come here?"
By the time he had bombarded her with questions, they were already leveling out on the first floor. He was determined not to let her get away, though, and guarded the elevator buttons, which were thankfully on his side of the doors, after he punched in for the 12th floor. She tried to leave, even as the gap between the doors was too narrow, but he held firm to her shoulders, preventing her from leaving.
"Let go of me!" she shouted and struggled to get free of him. He held firm, though, just long enough for the door to close again.
"I can't let go, Rory." The fact that he was no longer her captor emphasized his real meaning. "I can't let go until I know what happened last night. Until I know what happened to you. Until you let me explain, until you understand, why I left. I'm not looking for a relationship, Rory, I just want to talk to you!"
Rory stubbornly said nothing.
"Fine, Rory," Jess grumbled, and held his arms out, a little less dramatically than Vanna White, around the door, which was now opening to the 12th floor. "Leave. Go run to Logan. We won't talk, and I won't mention last night, but don't you ever come back to me expecting anything more than the silent treatment you're giving me right now. Merry Christmas. Goodbye."