Story Title: The Seven Deadly Sins: A Series of Lit Vignettes

Chapter Five—Sloth: Part Deux

Rating: T, for some possible language

Summary: A series of looks at moments we were robbed of in Season Three. A look at Rory and Jess being Rory and Jess.

"Pizza?" Jess suggested after she'd stopped responding to the feel of his lips against her earlobe and started quizzing him about what he felt like eating.

"Ugh. Not again," she leaned her head against the couch cushion. They'd been on her couch for the last two hours, since her mother had left for work. Thanks to modern technology, they'd been able to intersperse their make-out session with random moments of television programs, allowing a full range of teenage entertainment without having to stand up.

"Fine. Burgers?" he named the Gilmore family's other standby.

"But you're already here," she pointed out, as if he might have forgotten the fact that their bodies were melded together as well as sunken into the couch cushions.

"So?" he wound his fingers around hers.

"So, who's going to bring the burgers?"

"Luke's delivers," Jess smirked. "Although probably not to us tonight."

Rory glared at him. "And that would be because?"

"I might have pissed him off."

"I deduced that; I was looking for the specifics."

"You don't want to know," he nodded wisely at her.

"Fine. Chinese?"

"Al's went Moroccan."

Rory groaned louder. "When?"

"I stopped in after my shift last night to get take out, and egg rolls were no longer an option."

"Shoot."

"Popcorn?" he offered.

"For dinner?" she did her best to look offended at the idea.

"Please. I once saw you eat Oreos and gummi worms for dinner."

She thought about this for a moment. "Where would you get popcorn delivered from?"

"I was thinking we'd go to the movies. That way you could have a five course meal—Milk Duds, popcorn, gummi worms, Mike and Ikes, and a hot dog."

"If we were going to the movies, then we could just hit JoJos."

"I told you; I am never going to JoJos again."

She gave him the pouty lip and what her mother called the Bambi eyes, but he didn't budge. She leaned in for a kiss, but he barely puckered against the pressure of her lips. She sighed and huffed back against the couch. "It wasn't that bad."

"We need more places to eat in this town."

"The Indian place delivers," she tried again.

"The fact that I hate that place is the only thing that your mother likes about me. How about Thai?"

"How is it that you like the girlie foods, where as I have the iron stomach?" she mocked him.

"It's called a bottomless pit," he brushed his hand up under her shirt and ran his fingers against her skin. In response, the organ being discussed grumbled and growled.

"I'm really hungry," she smiled sheepishly.

"I think we're back to pizza," he shook his head.

"We're in a horrible food rut."

"You know, in New York, you can be a complete shut-in and never eat from the same restaurant twice in a month's time. Everybody delivers."

"So?"

"I miss that."

She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, bringing it around to her mouth before dropping it against her shoulder. "Are you going to move back?"

He met her eyes hesitantly. "To New York?"

She nodded, her Bambi eyes now glued to him. "I mean, after you graduate, are you planning on staying in Stars Hollow?"

Her stomach growled again. "We should really get you food. You want me to call Sandeep's?"

"Aren't we ever going to talk about this?" she put her hand on his, holding his warm hand against her discontented stomach.

He sighed. "I've thought about it," he shrugged.

"And?"

"You applied to Harvard, Princeton, and Yale," he reminded her.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"Not Columbia or NYU," he gently pointed her in his direction of thought and waited for her to catch on.

"You," she frowned and squeezed his hand, "think about that stuff? About where I'll be and that you might go somewhere different because of where I am?"

He shrugged. "It's not like I have a plan. I've just been thinking. The occasional thought."

"It might not be too late for me to submit an application for Columbia. I could check the deadline," she offered.

He shook his head. "You are not going to follow me."

She frowned. "But… I thought," she blinked.

"Rory, you've wanted to go to Harvard since you were four. I haven't wanted to do anything since I was four," he impressed upon her. "There's no way I'd let you give up your dream just so I could be in New York working at minimum wage job while you go to a school you don't like."

She looked down at where their hands were joined. "You could go to school, too."

"Maybe," he frowned. "Eventually."

"Jess," she began, but her stomach growled again. "Fine, we can do pizza, but let's get something other than pepperoni this time."

He gave her a smirk and peeled his lean form off the couch. "Veggie special it is," he said as he lunged for the phone and out of the swinging length of her arms as she clamored behind him.