A/N: Okay, so I have to say that you guys are the best. I was a little worried how everyone would take to my Jess, considering I've never written him before and he's kinda complex in a way. But after reading all the positive reviews I was patting myself on the back. One more to fifty! In other news, I'm still not sure how long this fic is gonna be, even considering how quickly the plot is progressing. And I know this chapter is sort of a filler, but, like I said, I'm still sorting things out, okay? I'll let you in on a little secret, though: I've already written the final chapter. Yup, a huge page of spoilers all to myself. Cue evil laughter
Disclaimer: Believe me, if I owned GG, not only would I have used my wiles to convince Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel to do another season, but there would be much more Jess to go around.
Rory hung up the phone, then quickly threw herself onto the couch and turned on the television. She was smiling.
"Ror?"
She jumped. Logan was coming into the living room, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"Uh…I, uh, woke up," she said.
"Why're ya'll googly-eyed?" he said, his words slurred with sleep.
"What do you mean?" she crossed her eyes, trying to read her expression. "I'm just a little out of it. From the medicine and the flu and stuff."
"Oh," he said. "I heard voices. Were you talking to someone?"
"No," she said quickly. He still looked suspicious. "I mean, yes. I was. Talking to someone. My mom!" she kind of yelled the last part, surprising the drowsy-eyed Logan. "I was talking to my mom!"
"You were talking to your mom," he said slowly. "You were talking to your mom at four in the morning."
"Well, you know us Lorelais," she said. "Once we've had our jolt, we're good for anything."
"Right," nodded Logan. "I'm just gonna…go back to bed."
"M'kay."
"G'night," he said, already making his way to the bedroom.
"Night," said Rory. Then she slammed her head against a pillow.
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
The next morning, she was sick again. Okay, fake-sick.
"Are you sure?" asked Logan.
"Oh yeah," she said, managing a cough. "You go on ahead. I don't want you to miss out just 'cause I don't feel well."
"But it's our honeymoon…" he offered.
"No, really, Logan, it's okay."
"And you're positive you'll be good without me?"
"Ab Fab, dear."
"Right," he said, putting on his jacket. "Eat some soup for me, okay?"
"I'll even put some crackers in it." She waved him off, then laid down on the couch until she heard the door slam shut.
She picked up the phone, dialing the number that she had memorized the day before.
This time he picked up on the first ring.
"Truncheon," he said monotonously.
"Truncheon," she mimicked.
"Shut up."
"Aww, why the hostility, Jessie?" she cooed.
"Goodbye."
"You can't even manage two minutes talking to me?"
"Nope. Bye."
Enjoy the food.
"Don't go," she said. She had meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding forceful. "I'll…"
Come back here.
Why?
"You'll…?" he waited for her to finish.
"I'll give you and eggroll," she quoted.
"I believe you still owe me one, Gilmore."
"You aren't gonna let me off the hook?"
"Nope," he deadpanned.
She laughed. "If you let me get away with it I'll tell you who really egged your car."
"No way," he said, chuckling.
"What?"
"Rory Gilmore, saint of Stars Hollow, committing a felony?" he mocked disbelief. "I don't buy it."
"Buy it, brother." She leaned back on the couch, smiling from ear to ear. Ahh, to be seventeen again.