Title: Understanding Snippy

Author: Bent137

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls or Joan of Arcadia

Summary: When God asks Joan to go to Yale, she meets Rory Gilmore. When being God's vessel becomes too much for Joan on top of going to school at the prestigious Ivy League college she confides in Rory, and gets an unexpected response.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter Three: Friends and Lovers

Rory sat across from Paris in the cafeteria. They were eating breakfast, a bagel and oatmeal for Paris, Pancakes and eggs for Rory. "Does your food taste different?" Rory asked Paris.

Paris looked confused for a moment. She looked down at her breakfast then back at Rory, "No, not really, why?"

"Mine tastes different."

"Bad."

"No, better actually. I wonder if they have a new cook," Rory mused.

Paris shrugged, "Maybe. What are you doing today?"

"Well, I have breakfast with you, then a class, then I need to go to the library and study for an exam. I'm meeting Chris for lunch, and then I have to play tour guide to some possible freshmen. I have another class this afternoon, and then dinner and I need to write that article for the newspaper."

"Do you have time to read over my article?" Paris asked, lifting a spoonful of oatmeal to her mouth.

Rory thought a moment, her schedule was busy, but it would be nice to have something to do in the down times, "I might, do you have a copy I can take with me?"

Paris nodded, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and pulled some papers out of her bag that was sitting on the floor. "Here, it's a copy, not the original, so you can write on it."

"Great. I'll try and get to it between tasks. When I'm done I'll call you."

Paris gave Rory a grateful half smile, "Great. Thanks, Rory."

"No problem," Rory smiled back as she tucked the papers into her messenger bag. "So what are you doing today?"

Rory ate as she listened to Paris list the classes she needed to attend, and the teachers she needed to talk to.

*

By the time lunch rolled around Rory was sure she'd absorbed so much information in her studying that she lost some of her younger memories. So she had packed her books up and dropped them off at her dorm before leaving the campus with a sense of freedom and a well deserved reward. She arrived at the cafe where she and Chris had decided to meet early, so she got herself a cup of coffee and found a table. Once she'd settled into her seat she pulled out Paris' article to read while she waited for Chris.

She was half done when she saw someone sit across from her out of the corner of her eye. She looked up and smiled upon seeing her boyfriend's face. Chris and Rory had met the year before, at a Yale football game, and had become fast friends, finding their mutual love of The O.C. a guilty pleasure they could only share with the other.

She had noticed his looks, you'd have to be blind not to. While he didn't resemble Dean's Cookie Cutter, All American Boy, look, he didn't look like Jess' Rebel Without A Cause, New York City style either. The closest he resembled any male from Rory's life was actually Tristan. Though even so it wasn't that close. They both could be charmers when they wanted, and Chris had the same infuriating smirk, but it was less used.

That's where any comparison stops though. Tristan's short blonde crop is no where near Chris' silky, brown, messy hairstyle. One lock longer than the rest it would seem, as it was always hanging over one eye. Not as floppy as Dean, but close. Chris has gray eyes that change with the weather. Steel gray on overcast days, grayish-blue on sunny and bright days, greenish-gray when it rains. He also has a tendency to tug his right ear lobe when he's deep in thought, and rub the back of his neck when he's uncomfortable or nervous. When he's anxious he's like a child with ADD, eyes darting everywhere, his foot tapping up and down.

They had been getting along famously as friends, and both were happy. Then he had surprised Rory, asking her to a formal event the previous winter. Their eyes had been opened that night, and they realized they were falling in love, or as close to love as someone their age could get. They'd been together ever since.

"What are you reading?" Chris asked.

"An article of Paris', she wants me to check it out before she submits copy," Rory responded.

"Oh, so how has your day been?"

"Surprisingly well actually, I'm starving."

"Great, let's order then." He turned and signaled to the waitress who rapidly approached their table.

"What can I get you guys today?" the waitress asked.

"I'll take a club sandwich with curly fries and a pickle," Chris told the waitress. "Diet Coke to drink."

The waitress nodded and turned to Rory, "I'll have a double bacon cheeseburger special with extra curly fries instead of a salad, and a coffee refill."

"Got it," the waitress responded, scribbling furiously. "Be right back with your drinks."

The waitress walked away and Chris turned his attention back to Rory, "Are you nervous about this afternoon?"

"A little," Rory responds, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I just hope they'll like me, and that they won't think I'm a nerd."

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure you'll do fine."

Rory smiles at him, "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

"I'll call you tonight to see how it went."

"I didn't expect anything less."

The waitress returns with a bottle of Diet Coke, which she sets in front of Chris, and a pot of coffee that she uses to refill Rory's mug.

*

The three Girardi's sat on a bench in a peaceful looking courtyard area on the Yale campus, Joan sandwiched between her parents. A half dozen more teenagers milled around while their parents sipped coffee from the vendor a few feet away. Helen glanced at her watch, "Five minutes," she announced looking around. Trying to guess who their guide would be. Her eyes passed over two boys on bikes, and a dark haired girl running down the path with a two books in one arm, and her bag slung over the other. Helen then spotted a woman with neat dark hair pulled up into a french twist striding down the walkway, her briefcase banging against her knee. "I bet that's our guide."

"Who?" Will asked.

"Her," Helen subtly pointed the woman out to him and Joan.

"Maybe," Will said.

"No," Joan said. "It's not."

"Well how do you know?" Helen asked.

"Because the guide's not going to be," Joan was cut off in mid-sentence by a voice.

"Sorry I'm late," Rory Gilmore said as she jogged into the area.

"A teacher," Joan finished.

Helen looked to the girl who spoke, the same girl she had noticed running down the path and dismissed as a student late for class. On the other side of the courtyard a blonde haired woman glanced at her watch and then looked up at the young woman, who has continued at a brisk walk over to the coffee vendor. "Nonsense, you're two minutes early by my watch," the woman said.

"Good," Rory said. "That'll give me a chance to pay for my coffee." Rory dug in her bag and pulled out three dollars, she handed them to the boy behind the cart. "Thank you, Jon."

"No problem, Rory."

Rory walked back to the middle of the group, "Okay so I am going to be your tour guide. My name is Lorelai Gilmore, but everyone calls me Rory, Lorelai is my mother. I'm a junior here at Yale and as you probably guessed by my intimate acquaintance with Jon, I have a love affair with coffee. This will be my first group, so that makes you all very special. I hope I do good and don't screw this up, but be patient with me. Now if you'll all gather your things and group together here next to this monument of Dan we'll head out."

Rory stuffs her books into her bag as Joan and her parents walk up to her. Rory looks up and smiles. "Hi, I'm Joan," Joan says, holding out a hand.

"Rory," Rory replies, shaking her hand, "but you already knew that."

"Your mother named you after herself?" Helen questioned.

"Yeah, she was whacked out on Demerol," Rory replied. Joan and Helen laughed. "Let's go guys. First stop, the admissions building, I suggest getting acquainted with it, you'll be there often in your first month." Rory headed down the path she came up and the group followed her.