Plans of Reunion
Summary: The S.H.B.A., S.H.T.B., S.H.N.W.O., S.H.C.C.S.H.C., aka Taylor, want the town sweethearts together again. When he mentions it at a town meeting, everyone starts plotting, and Miss Patty has a plan that just might work. Narco future fic.
Pairing: Rory/Dean with mentioned Luke/Lorelai.
Disclaimer: If I were Amy Sherman-Palladino I'd have better things to do than write fan fiction. And you'd be seeing this story unfold onscreen soon. Well, actually you wouldn't, because Rory and Dean would never have broken up in the first place, so the town wouldn't need to plot to get them back together.
"So, Dean," Rory said, curling herself into a ball and rolling backwards so that she fit perfectly into him, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, "what exactly are you doing at college?"
"Studying," he said sleepily into her shoulder, pulling the fleece blanket Miss Patty had left neatly folded on the studio floor more firmly around them.
"You don't like to talk after sex, do you?"
"Not particularly."
"Oh," she said sadly.
"You can talk to me if you want to," she could hear the mirth in his voice.
"Okay," she agreed happily.
"I might not be listening, but you can talk all you want."
"Okay. Did you hear about the time I had to put together an entire newspaper from scratch? We almost didn't get it in on time, and it was all Paris' fault. Oh, and then there was the time I spent a night in jail," she waited. He didn't say anything. "Did I tell you? I got a job at a whorehouse. I was lying about going back to Yale." Dean didn't say anything. He just breathed in, and out, into her ear.
"Are you dead?" she asked. He didn't move except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Okay, you're breathing, so I'm pretty sure you're still alive. You're a sound sleeper. Did you know that? I wonder what I'd have to do to wake you up. Don't worry, though. I'm not going to try.
"I love you, Dean," she whispered, her joking air leaving her. "I love you, so while you're asleep, I'm going to tell you something. My boyfriend. He's abusive. Well, not yet, not totally, but he's borderline abusive. I was reading an article about abusive relationships, and the signs. And he's so close. So close. So close to being an abusive partner. I said I stayed with him to make my grandparents happy, but that's not true.
"If I break up with him, I have no future in journalism. His father is Mitchum Huntzberger. The Mitchum Huntzberger. He can ruin my career for good, or send it through the roof with minimal effort."
"Dean. Help me. I'm scared," she pleaded, careful that her voice stayed soft, so that she didn't accidentally wake him up. She tucked herself back into his embrace. She knew that if he had heard, he would do anything to help her. But there was nothing that he could do. And that was why she couldn't really tell him. He wouldn't accept the fact that she had gotten herself into a mess that he couldn't help her out of.