Title: Love Manual

Author: Bru Gravem

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters based on Gilmore Girls and story loosely inspired at the synopsis of the movie "Manuale D'Amore" (Love Manual)

Summary: Love usually has the same pattern; it's like a manual. Four installments of how love works. Post 6X08 How it could have been. Rory/Jess

A/N: Reviews are highly appreciated.


The Crisis (Chap 02)

She hears the alarm clock beeping and turns it off before turning in bed. She stretches and turns from side to side even thought the sheets are cold. A few minutes later, she opens her eyes and get up. There is a long day ahead of her. She goes to the kitchen and turns on the coffee maker before heading to the shower. It has become a routine. Not one that she likes, but one that she has gotten used to. She drinks her coffee and reads the New York Times at her laptop.

She adjusts her hair on the mirror and checks her outfit. Perfect. White shirt with a back skirt and a pair of high heels that make her figure slender but are comfortable enough to walk on the whole day. She takes her purse and some files before heading to the door. Just after she has opened it she remembers to go back and press play on the answer machine. Instantly his voice comes to life.

"Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't answer your call earlier," he sighs. "How are you? I'm fine. Work is fine. I mean, it's not fine, it's driving me crazy, but that's normal so… Uhm, I just wanted to check in. I guess you're not home. Call me when you have a chance. I love-" beep "Your message has been deleted."


He opens the door and enters his home, pushing his bag with an exhausted face. He leaves the bag by the entryway and closes the door with his foot before throwing himself on the couch and groaning. His week has been way too long and he longs for a hot bath and his soft bed to comfort him and let him forget about his life for a few hours. He is already on his way to the bedroom when he sees a note with Rory's handwrite on the table.

Mom and Luke are coming over tomorrow to have dinner with us. Just wanted to let you know in case we don't talk with each other before tomorrow night. Welcome back.

Rory

He fumes and groans. How could she do this? She knows how much he hates to have that kind of dinner, the one with their families, much less with such a short notice. He stumbles to the bed knowing he would have to wait for her to get home, so he could confront her. Their phone fights were always the worst and he would rather confront her personally any day than have her not speaking to him for weeks, when in his opinion he was the right one all along.

A few hours later Rory gets home to find Jess on the couch, flipping through the channels, trying to kill time.

"Hey, you're home."

"Yeah, got here a few hours ago."

She smiles and nods. "Did you see the note I left you?"

"Yup," he says, finally turning to look at her. "So, about dinner tomorrow. Why in hell did you think you could just schedule it?" he starts, his voice rising already.

"Well, I would have checked with you first. But of course, I couldn't get in touch with you since your cell is always off!"

"Oh, don't start with the whole 'I can never talk to you' talk again."

"Okay, I won't. But then stop whining about dinner tomorrow!"

"But why the fuck do we have to have dinner with your family tomorrow?"

She gives him a bitter smile that is followed by an even bitter laugh, "Oh, please, that's just too good."

"What the fuck is just too good?" he asks almost screaming, frustrated and annoyed by her.

"Don't tell me you forgot what day is tomorrow!"

He suddenly stops in quiet contemplation. After a minute he gives in and answers, "It's the 14th, so what?"

She laughs bitterly again, "Think Jess. What happened on July 14th two years ago…?"

He stops for a minute and then groans. And sighs. "I'm sorry," he says, regret obvious in his voice.

"It's okay, it's not like it's important or anything."

He makes a move towards her and she starts walking to kitchen. He follows her, trying to come up with something to make the situation better.

"I'm sorry, okay. It's just, this week has been hell and I just didn't notice how fast time was going by… It's not that I forgot, really. How could I forget it?"

She turns around and he is just a foot away from her. Her eyebrows narrow at him, her face set in an angry expression when she asks him, "Yeah, how could you forget it, Jess? How could you forget the day we moved in together? How could you forget the day you said it was like our marriage, that you went down on one knee and put a ring on my finger? How could you forget it, huh?"

"I didn't. Really, I didn't," he tries to defend himself, but the look on her face tells him apologies won't be nearly enough. He puts a hand to his forehead in though and then looks back at her. "Let me make it up to you. Tomorrow night, dinner at your favorite restaurant, just the two of us."

She looks to her right, just not to look at him, really. "Okay, I guess that's okay."

He smiles and takes a step forwards, kissing her softly before turning around to go back to the couch.

"But you are calling mom to tell her the change in plans," she smiles, finally feeling satisfied.

He winces; she is getting too much pleasure out of his pain.


She taps her fingers on the wood table. He glares. She stops. The waiter comes, asks their orders quickly and leaves, as not to disturb the couple. But the couple would rather have him there, just so the silence wouldn't be so uncomfortable.

"So, how was your trip to New York?" she tries to make small talk.

"It was fine. I think this guy might stand a chance in the big city. He is good, just naïve. I think in a few years he will be ready for getting big."

"That's good. If he gets big your publishing house gets big and you get big."

"Yup, that's the idea. The problem is the 'if' in front of all of those."

She nods pursing her lips and watches the people walking outside. He looks back at her.

"What about your work? How is it going?" He asks, desperately trying to get any conversation going.

She sighs, "Fine. There are a few new interns that can't get anything right, but that's how it works. I'm still working late most days and re-writing the whole thing at times cause apparently writing an articles is so damn difficult, and if you ask me I still feel underpaid. But there are no news in that, so…"

"Yeah," he nods absently.

The food comes and both start eating avoiding the other's eyes. They look around the restaurant, looking for a magical solution for their relationship, or at least this night's conversation, as if suddenly they would find the answer for the problems they've just realized they had. No such luck. Dinner goes on with only another few words spoken, such as "Could you pass the salt?" and " It really tastes delicious". An hour and a half later both leave the restaurant; no hand holding, no secretive smiles or even a glint in their eyes like they used to share just a couple of years ago. The ride home was as long as eternity and as silent as dying love.


They are laying on the couch, her head on his lap, watching some old drama movie. She thinks about her list of things to do and the article she has to write while he worries about editing the latest work of his new protégé.

She fingers the ring on her left hand slowly and suddenly the words flow from her mouth before she can stop then.

"Say 'I love you.'"

Even she is a little surprised with her own request, but she doesn't let it show. Instead she watches him carefully and curiously, truly wondering how this will turn out.

"I love you," he says clearly, coolly. A statement.

"Again," she asks.

"I love you," he says in the same cool voice.

"Again?" she pleads in a small voice with the last leap of faith, of hope.

He sighs tiredly. "I love you." He looks at her eyes and they are empty, just reflecting what she sees in his.

She casts her eyes down sadly and then looks up at him. "I don't believe you."

He looks away and after a moment back down at her. He runs a hand through her hair and sighs before answering, "Well, I don't see you even attempting to lie."