A/N- Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter. God, I love writing Paris. Seriously. Just writing these last two chapters (I've never written her before) has made me want to write a whole Paris-based story. Like a slightly AU-fic about what might have happened if when Rory and Paris broke up with Logan and Doyle and moved into the apartment together, they'd just stayed that way through graduation? It'd probably still end in Lit though. I can't leave Jess. Anyway, that's just me rambling, though I would be curious to know what you all think of my random story ideas. I'm glad you guys have liked me writing Paris because she is gonna be around a fair bit in this story with the plan I have for it. And this is another long chapter, to try to make up for the brevity and lack of consistency lately. I appreciate your patience and kindness about all that. Please read and review. I do not own Gilmore Girls, but I do own a bottle of wine that is seriously helping with writer's block.


Chapter 87

"So you two are back together," Paris observed as she unlocked the door, allowing them into the living room. Jess looked at Rory, amused.

"Yes, Paris, we are," she sighed, "Wasn't that clear from me bringing him here?"

"No. It could've been a number of reasons, especially since if I remember correctly his father and your mother were involved," Paris replied. Jess flushed.

"My," he began, then stopped himself.

"Whatever," Paris dismissed his beginnings of a thought, "It was clear from the way you two were doe-eyeing each other back there."

"Hey, I take offense to that!" Jess protested, "She's the only one with doe eyes."

"Well your take on it was equally pathetic," Paris said as she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. They joined her and sat on the two chairs opposite her, "So, can we get to why you're actually here?"

"Sure," Rory answered breathlessly. Jess noticed she looked nervous for the first time since she'd told him the news. He frowned in confusion as Rory inhaled deeply. "Well, Paris, I…um…"

"What? Are you pregnant? Get arrested again?" Paris demanded, "Or need me to break the privacy restrictions at another hospital for you? If so, that's great, I have a couple favors people around the area owe me anyway."

"No, nothing like that," Rory said, quickly, "Um…"

"Paris, would you mind if Rory and I put our things away beforehand? I think that the fact that she hasn't yet unpacked her books and made sure that a shampoo hasn't exploded on them is causing her minor brain failure." Rory glared at him and he arched his eyebrow at her innocently.

"Sounds like Rory," Paris nodded, "First door to your left is the guest room. I'm going to make a few work calls and then we can talk about whatever the hell it is you're here for."

"Sounds like a plan," Jess agreed, taking Rory by the hand and leading her toward the guest room. Once they entered he closed the door and turned to her, his brows furrowed. "So wanna explain to me what's up with the nerves? Did Paris join the mafia or something? Not that she wouldn't be ideal for the lifestyle, but…"

"She's honest!" Rory blurted, her face contorting into an expression of worry. Jess raised his eyebrows. "That's not what I meant…god…see, this is why I didn't…"

"Just try again," Jess sighed, sitting down next to her.

"She won't tell me that I'm good if I'm not good enough. And she'll know the difference, and she'll tell it to me straight. And even if I am good enough, or was good enough, she's realistic enough that she'll tell me if at this point it's too late to…do it. Make it work. If I lost the chance. She knows those answers. It's great and all that you and Mom are so supportive, but neither of you has worked in that industry, or has been as close to it as Paris. And she knows my work from a journalistic standpoint better than either of you. She's not going to try to spare my feelings here. She might say it was stupid to quit my job and that there's no way I can get into it and that even with the connections she has, it's a shot in hell."

"So you're asking her because…"

"I want to know if I even have a shot in hell. If it's a shot worth taking," Rory answered, her voice soft but clear, "And she'll know. That's the thing about Paris, she's a double-edged sword. Plus, if she says it is, there's no one better to help me work it out."

"Or cause you a nervous breakdown."

"Whatever it takes," Rory laughed drily. She stood up. "I'm sorry for freaking out. I need to tell her. I do."

"Then let's go tell her," Jess nodded, standing up and kissing Rory on the cheek, "And if it doesn't work out, I'm here for you to help you figure out what's next."

"What would I do without you?"

"Marry well and eat more fruit."

"Harsh and completely untrue," Rory retorted, crossing her arms across her chest, "I said no to the tree."

""I know, I know," he smirked, "Alright, you'd be in Azerbaijan in the middle of a street with a bunch of people screaming at you in different languages."

"Much better."

"Alright," Paris said, hanging up the phone, "I'm done. God, medical professionals have to be some of the most ineffective minds in America."

"Coming from…" Rory cut off Jess' muttered retort with a glare.

"Alright," Rory began, "Look, I need your honesty, and maybe your help."

"Can you be less vague, Gilmore? I thought you were detail-oriented."

"I quit my job," Rory confessed, "I actually cut back on my hours and contributions a few months ago, and I moved in with Jess and started working at his bookstore. We weren't together at that time. I just knew that something was wrong and I wasn't happy with my life anymore."

"Or your career," Paris continued, bored. Rory looked up at her in surprise. "Come on, Gilmore, the writer glow was nice, but it wasn't your pinnacle of success."

"I agree, though I wish I'd done something about it earlier," Rory responded, "But I quit my job last week. And I want to become an editor of a paper in a major city. I want to know if you think I can do it, in terms of my capability, as well as circumstance."

"Of course you can do it. Did you lose brain cells that time you dyed your hair pink?" Paris scoffed, "I hate to admit it more than anyone but the way you ran the newsroom back at Yale was nothing short of expert. You're a natural in the field. The real question is whether you can now, given how long you waited to pursue it and the broken ties with the heir apparent to the entire field."

"Can we not talk about…"

"We can try not to, but you can't ignore the fact that it makes this more difficult, Rory," Paris chastised, "You've already cut out San Francisco, a number of New York papers, and a few around here and Chicago."

"Gotta love nepotism," Jess scoffed. Rory glared at him.

"It's not his fault, he has every right to hate me."

"Just like I have every right to hate him, and you had every right to reject him."

"Let's save the lover's quarrels for later, shall we?" Paris sighed, "This is a matter of practicality. There are probably only about five papers in the cities you'd want to be in where you'd have a decent shot, so this won't be a resume-blasting job, it'll be a matter of concentrated war efforts. I'm assuming that you planned to ask for my help in this?"

"Correct, as always," Rory said, "And Doyle's. If he's willing."

"Willing but I don't know how far it'll get you," Paris answered evenly, "He's only got a few contacts outside of the paper he's at. He's happy with his job and so am I, but I can't sit here and tell you he became a titan."

"That's okay, whatever bit helps."

"Good attitude to go in with. So we're going to need posterboard, Sharpies in multiple colors, both laptops, printers, and the information of all of your current journalism contacts. I'll gather mine as well. You also need to provide me with a copy of your current resume so I can overhaul it, because god knows the last time that thing's gotten any action was your senior year."

"Takeout?"

"Chinese and Thai, and if we need more we can do pizza. Thai donuts," Paris added. Rory smirked, remembering how during college Paris had gradually begun to eat more takeout and junk food under her tutelage. "We'll also need a ruler, about 300 envelopes, stamps, and self-addressed labels. Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"You're doing the shopping. And picking up the takeout. We'll place the order before you leave so you're included," Paris said, handing him her credit card, "Also get a few bottles of wine, some Red Bull Zero, and some carrots in case our brain cells start to fail from excessive exposure to grease."

"Are you…"

"We really appreciate it, Jess," Rory chimed in, her eyes meeting his. He narrowed his eyes at her and she shrugged innocently.

"Alright," he gave in, knowing that this was the plan all along and that this insane, OCD plan was going to make Rory happier than he could imagine for reasons he couldn't possibly understand, "Text me if there's anything else."

"There will be," Paris called as he shut the door behind him. She turned to Rory and smiled slightly.

"I did always like him" she admitted, "Think he can get us some Mac and Cheese?"