A/N: It's been a long time since my last update. I've had my job, school just kicked off and I recently had a mean cold that drained a lot out of me, so I got kinda slowed down. As always, thank you for all the reviews on last chapter, and I hope you enjoy chapter 26!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this story, do not own any of the characthers associated with Gilmore Girls. That honor belongs to the wonderful Amy Sherman-Palladino. I have no intention of making any money on this (in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm losing money over it…).

26. Calls, calls, calls

Things got better. They slowly began talking about the future, the wedding, their lives, moderately successful in not making things awkward. They returned to Philadelphia a few days later with Cammie, who was smiling like the Cheshire cat. She had managed to score an apartment over on Peach street. She didn't say how she managed to get by Taylor's screening process, only that she was very convincing, and that she had made the first down payment. Rory and Jess thought that the "sounded convincing"-part sounded like a code for something much more cunning, and in Jess's word "Cammie-like".

Jess spent most of his days pinned down at Truncheon, running interference when Matt's and Chris's plans for the Stars Hollow subsidiary began to reach abnormal proportions. If he was the one who would get to man that place he wanted it to be like Truncheon was: Down-to-earth, but still unique. Opening a subsidiary had apparantly gone to Matt's and Chris's heads, and they spit out one ridiculous suggestion after the other. Fortunately, most of it could be dismissed simply by saying "You do know where you're opening this, right?". Other times, Jess had to resort to much dirtier means of getting the guys' heads out of their butts, such as threatening to sell them to Miss Patty as love slaves. Matt was still scarred from his previous bump-in with Miss Patty that any idea he had going in his head evaporated in favour of self-preservation.

Rory, on the other hand, spent her days in the apartment, planning the move because there was nothing else to do. She hadn't heard anything from any of the papers she had been interviewed by, and a heavy feeling of failure had settled in her stomach. She could sit for hours just thinking about what could've gone wrong. Didn't she present herself well? Had she missed something in Doyle's recommendation that made her look bad? She had already decided that she wouldn't call any of the papers. There would not be a re-run of the humiliation she had experienced when she lost out on the Reston fellowship and tried to call the Providence Journal Bulletin and get that job she had already turned down.

"I hate this," she complained to Jess one Wednesday evening when they were having Chinese and watching a late rerun of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. "It feels like I should wake up each morning to moody music and a hollow voice declaring it to be day whatever on the alien planet."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Jess said playfully, nudging her with his chopsticks.

"Not funny, Jess! I'm serious, I'm going nuts here!"

"Fine, I'm taking it back. Have you tried checking for jobs in Hartford?"

Rory sighed, biting off a piece of an eggroll.

"No one seems to be hiring," she replied sullenly, pursing her lips.

"You could call," Jess pointed out.

"Call and say what? 'Hi, I'm Rory Gilmore, I desperately need a job before I go insane and start clawing down the wallpaper in my soon-to-be former apartment'?"

"I mean you could call, get ahead of the game," Jess clarified, ignoring Rory's jibe. "Plus, you're a Gilmore. If those editors know what's good for them, they'll have enough sense to at least respect your family name."

"I'm sorry, who are you, and what have you done with Jess? My Jess would never have suggested I use my stone-rich grandparents to land a job?"

Jess threw up his hands in resignation, smirking widely.

"I'm just saying. Desperate times call for desperate actions. I'm pretty sure your grandparents would be over the moon if you dropped their names, though."

"Please, you're sweet-talking the wrong person. You should be saying all this to grandma, she'd probably start worshipping the ground you walk on," Rory scoffed, poking Jess in the side with her foot."

"But you know I'm right, right? Calling them wouldn't be so bad. You'd be putting yourself out there for the entire Hartford press to see."

"Fine, I can call. But I don't think that a few calls will start a bidding-war, if that's what you're alluding to."

"I could probably help with that, too," Jess quipped and winked.

"You wouldn't!"

"I did create a fake crime scene, did I not?"

"When you were seventeen!"

"Creating a phony bidding war and throwing it in your favor should be a suitable step up for my dark side."

"Whatever you say, Darth Vader..." Rory muttered, though a smile was playing on her lips. Jess throwing a bidding war... It would be so... Jess.

"I go by Darth Agious, just so you know who to send your Thank You-card to when you hit it big."

"Darth Agious? Have you been hiding something from me?"

"Something other than my secret passion for name generators? Not much," Jess shrugged teasingly.

"Nerd alert!" Rory crowed jubilantly. "You are such a nerd!"

"Shut up, or I'm canceling movie night," he threatened, and it was hard to tell if he was serious or not.

"No, you can't do that! Not when there are Oompah Loompah's involved!"

"So can we agree to play nice?"

They looked at each other for a moment, measuring each other and the level of threath and severity involved. Rory caved first.

"Fine," she huffed, returning to eating her eggrolls and Kung Pao chicken and watching the movie. No way she was giving up Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

The next day, she really hated Jess for his clarity. She could call. No, she should. She should call and at least introduce herself, get on their radar. Everyone in her position would. So why was she such a chicken, sitting on the couch staring at her phone as if it might explode any second. She took a steadying breath, picked it up, then immediately put it down again. Seconds ticked by. She picked it up again, and speed dialled.

"I can't answer the phone right now, trust me you don't want to know. Puppies, kittens and other cute baby animals! Here comes the beep, you know what to do!" her mothers chirping voice sounded.

Great, voicemail. Rory groaned.

"I can't remember how to be charming and professional!" she exclaimed after the beep. "When did I begin to suck? Where are you? Call me before I forget who I am."

She ended the call, and speed dialled again, this time for Jess.

"Hello," he answered.

"I suck!"

"Hello to you, too. What do you mean you suck?"

"I've been staring at the phone for half an hour, and I can't pick it up and call," Rory complained whiningly.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're calling me right now," Jess commented, mock-sarcastic.

"You know what I mean..."

"Rory, it's just a couple of calls. Be yourself."

"I don't know how to be that," she countered, almost panicking. "I..."

"Okay, I'm gonna interrupt your rant right here. Take a breath, calm down and get over yourself. You don't suck. You know exactly who you are. Nothing has changed, Rory."

"..."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Jess asked, not hearing anything of the mumbles.

"I said, I don't want them to turn me down..." Rory repeated, barely getting the words out.

"You're not calling for a specific job, so they can't really turn you down."

"They'll think I'm a spazz for calling and asking for a job."

"They get lots of calls like that..." Jess began.

"Not helping, Jess!"

"People call for jobs even when there are none, nothing you can do about that. What you can do is present yourself as the best option for them, and from what I know, you are the best option," Jess told her encouragingly.

"You really think so?" Rory asked, feeling a teensy bit better.

"I would say 'would I lie to you', but that line has so much ego-destroying potential I'm not gonna touch it with a stick, so I'll settle for 'of course'."

"You're so full of yourself," she rebutted playfully. "Fine, I'll call them. I promise."

"Go get 'em, Gilmore."

They said goodbye, and Rory sat looking at her phone for another couple of seconds, before biting down on her lower lip, searching for The Hartford Courant's, The Hartford Magazine's and The Informer's phone numbers. She decided to start with the obvious, The Hartford Courant, and she could feel her fingers tremble as she dialled the number.

"The Hartford Courant, Jimmy speaking," a brisk voice answered after two rings.

"Hi... Hello. I'm Rory Gilmore, and I'm calling to see if you would happen to have any positions opening soon..." she began, somewhat shakily.

"One moment, I'll connect you. Have a nice day."

Before Rory could even say thank you, Jimmy had connected her, and mellow music began playing in her ear. She took a steadying breath, closing her eyes.

"I can do this..." she assured herself.

"The Hartford Courant, Jenny speaking. How may I help you?"

Showtime.

"Hello, my name is Rory Gilmore..."

It got easier the more she talked. Then again, it wasn't such a huge surprise. She was, after all, Lorelai Gilmore's daughter, and by definition heir apparant to the throne of Indefinite Babbling Capabilities. She presented herself, quickly reciting her work experience, her strong points, the commitment she felt towards writing. She even threw in a vague hint about her grandparents. Anyone who had even the slightest insight in Hartford high society would make the connection. Rory just hoped Jenny was that anyone.

She got the answer she expected, that they weren't hiring at the moment, but she was more than welcome to send them her resumé and some workprints and they'd keep her in mind if they had any positions opening up. With one down, it was easier to call the two other papers. The Hartford Magazine was very eager to get her information, her CV and some workprints, while The Informer gave her the perfunctory "We're not looking, but you can send us your resumé"-reply.

Not ten minutes after she had finished talking to Howie at The Informer, her phone began buzzing. She checked the caller-ID.

"Mom!" she answered enthusiastically.

"Oh, okay, someone's happy to hear my voice. So why did I have a very desperate message from you when I checked my voice mail? You sounded like Billy Jack was coming for you."

"I called a couple of papers in Hartford today, checking to see if they had any jobs available."

"That's great, sweetie."

"Wish I could take credit, but it was Jess's idea."

"Duly noted. And somewhere between there and now you forgot who you were..?"

Rory laughed a short laugh.

"I freaked out. I haven't had to call and ask for a job in a long time. The last time I did that I felt so embarrased I wanted to die. Now I had to do it again, and I had no idea what to say or not say, or if I should call at all," she explained, rubbing her forehead. "So where were you? You always answer when someone calls."

"Honey, in case you forgot, I have a living... thing growing inside me. As much as I would like to avoid it, I need to go to the baby doctor to do an ultrasound and check that everything's fine," Lorelai reminded her.

"And how was my little sibling?"

"It was fine, and I even promised the obstetrician to cut down on coffee."

"Did she believe you?"

"I was very convincing. And I had my fingers crossed behind my back. I'm putting you in charge of smuggling me coffee, real coffee, by the way. Luke will be anal about the coffee. He things the baby will come out looking like Cousin It if I drink coffee," Lorelai joked.

"I might like having Cousin It for a brother... or sister. Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet?"

"And ruin the town's pool? Have I taught you nothing?"

"But if you knew, you could bet accordingly," Rory countered, twirling a lock of hair.

"Yeah, and everyone would know I knew, and I would get nothing. Trust me, I'm better off not knowing. Maybe I can get somebody to place a bet on my behalf, but no one would know it besides me?"

"God, you're beginning to sound like Jess..."

"I take that..." Lorelai began, then halted for a moment. "Wait, how am I supposed to take that?"

"In whatever way that makes you happy, mom," Rory answered with a smile, then heard a beeping sound from her phone. Someone was trying to call her. "Look, I gotta go, someone's trying to call me. I'll talk to you again soon."

"Fine. When are you guys coming here again?" her mother asked hurriedly.

"I'm not sure. Soon. I'll call you."

"Bye, cupcakes!"

"Bye!"

Rory hung up on her mother, then checked caller-ID for the other call. Unknown number. Great, probably some overly persistent phonesalesman.

"Rory Gilmore speaking," she answered, moderately bored.

"Rory Gilmore? I'm Gerald, I work for Metro Philadelphia. Am I calling at a good time?"

"S-Sure," she stuttered, baffled that Metro was calling her.

"Great. I got your number from the editor at the Philadelphia Inquirer. See, we had a columnist up until last week, when he abandoned ship, so to speak, and, well, news travel. I got your number, your resumé and a copy of a workprint column you've written, and it was pretty impressive for someone who's never written columns before."

"Thank you..."

"If you don't mind, we'd like you to write columns for us," Gerald continued, apparantly not noticing her shellshocked answer. "We can make this a temporary thing to begin with, if you feel unsure about writing columns full-time. What do you say about a bi-monthly column, with a probationary employment period of three months?"

"You're... You're offering me a job?" Rory couldn't be sure, but it felt like her face had gone all numb, and she looked like a tasered goldfish.

"I'd be an idiot if I didn't, you've got experience, you've got excellent referrals, your workprint showed promise. Now, if you don't mind, I have a few changes I'd like to propose."

"What changes?" she asked standoffishly. There were only so much she was prepared to change with her, admittedly, vague outline for the column.

"I've got a note here saying you'd like the column to be called 'My little corner of the world'. No problem with that, it's actually pretty catchy. What I'm thinking is we could make this a bit more... shall we say mysterious? Pretty much the first thing you tell the reader in this text is the name of your home town."

"Stars Hollow," Rory answered automatically.

"Right. You think you can rewrite the beginning to make it more non-descript. Give as few hints as possible as to where your little corner of the world is," Gerald suggested zippily.

"That seems... fair enough."

"I'll leave the writing to you, it's been my experince that the less specifics you give, the better a text like this one turns out."

"Right," she agreed, rather lamely. "You think you could mail me the text? I forgot to ask for a copy of it before I left the Inquirer."

"Sure. Do I send it to the e-mail address on your resumé?"

"Yes. Yes, it's the one I use."

"Great. Would it be okay for you if you brought it in personally? We could get all the paperwork done at the same time."

"That would be acceptable," Rory affirmed, feeling her heart beat harder in ger chest.

"Is tomorrow enough time for you to rewrite it? Can we meet at, say, 2 pm?"

"I'll make it work."

"Fanstastic. I'll see you tomorrow then? You know where to find us?"

"I can google the address, and I'll be there at 2 pm sharp."

"All right. Welcome to Metro, Rory Gilmore."

A/N: Review, pretty please!