Disclaimer: Amy Sherman-Palladino claims ownership of Gilmore Girls.

A/N: Look at me, actually updating. Anyway, pure Finn/Rory banter!

Chapter 3: California Sun

"When I walk and they walk I twist and they twist
I shimmy and they shimmy I fly and they fly
We're out there having fun in the warm California sun"

-The Ramones

Rory stared down at the directions Finn had printed out. There was even a small map of the country to go along with the step by step directions. "This is a lot of country."

Finn laughed as he merged onto the I-95 south. "I don't know if you know this, love, but America is a lot of country." He pushed on the accelerator and got over into the right lane. "Your mum is an intense lady," he commented.

"So she's been told."

"Oh good, I'm not the only one to experience this. That somehow makes me feel better." He briefly looked over at Rory and grinned at her. "I like her."

"She's a likeable person," Rory replied.

"She doesn't like me," Finn said in return, as if he were commenting on the weather.

"She just doesn't trust you."

"With good reason, love, I'm of poor moral character," he informed her. "Have you explored much of this great nation?"

Rory folded down the visor to block the sun from blinding her before answering. "I've been as far as Virginia. I've explored more of Europe than America."

"Europe is nice, if done right," Finn replied as he leaned over and opened up the glove box. Among the collection of papers and other assorted knick-knacks were four or five pairs of sunglasses in different shapes and colors. "You can take a pair or three, depending on what matches best with your outfit that day."

Rory gaped at the sheer number of sunglasses Finn had ready at his disposal. "Any of these?"

"Take your pick, pet. I'd say the pink ones for today, to go with the pillow," he suggested.

"Do I even want to know why you have pink sunglasses?" she asked, but put then on anyway and checked herself in the mirror. "These actually don't look too bad on me."

"You seem surprised. I think I know how to accessorize." He stole a glance at her and smiled faintly. "They go well with your bangs."

Rory preened a little bit more in the mirror. "Maybe I should take you shopping with me in LA."

Finn laughed loudly at that. "I don't think so, just cause I have a good eye doesn't mean I want to be your girlfriend on this trip."

"Is your masculinity threatened?" Rory asked patronizingly as she snapped the mirror shut and leaned back in her seat a little bit, finally relaxing into the situation. She was really driving across country with Finn... she didn't even know his last name. "What's your last name?"

"Love, my masculinity is never threatened. It is just incredibly difficult to pick up chicks when out shopping with a girl. For some reason, they all assume I'm either gay or with said girl. So to sum up, I will go shopping with you if you will be my girlfriend. Or if you will finally let me have Logan for my own." He smirked at her as he saw her eyes go wide, even though they were behind sunglasses. "And Finn is my last name."

Rory hugged the pillow tighter to her chest as she processed what Finn had just told her. He was joking. Right? No, he was definitely joking. He'd smirked. He was joking. Why was she obsessing over this anyway? "Finn is your last name?"

"That's what the birth certificate says, but between you and me I think it's a sham. And before you ask, darling, no my first name is not Huckleberry, and no I will not tell you what it is. There's a reason I go by my last name."

She thought about this for a second, her curiosity piqued. She'd just always assumed Finn was his first name. Then deliberately she leaned forward and opened the glove box once again.

"Nice try," Finn interrupted her thoughts. "The car is registered to my dear father. But that is very investigative journalist of you."

"Is it Phil?"

"What's wrong with the name Phil?"

"It's a name that just begs to be preceded by Puxatony."

Finn shot her a scandalized look. "It does not! Why would you even suggest it if you're going to make fun of it? But my name is not Phil. You're never going to guess it, so I suggest stopping now."

"I think you're scared I'm going to get it right," she replied.

"If you guess, I'll let you keep your first born," he sang back at her.

She rolled her eyes. "It can't be that bad."

"But I like to keep a shroud of mystery about myself, makes me a little bit more appealing to the ladies, eh? Don't you find me more attractive since you found out Finn is my last name?"

"Not really. I think it's silly."

"Silly?" Finn leaned back in his seat and slumped his shoulders. "The lady thinks I'm silly? I am befuddled by you and your natural immunity to my charm."

"I'm sorry, did I say silly? I meant melodramatic," she retorted.

"I am no such thing!"

Rory giggled and shook her head. "I think Logan was right, you are fun. So far."

"Well if we're giving out backhanded compliments, you're not the worst navigator. So far," he mimicked back to her.

"I think you'll find my ability to read a piece of paper far surpasses that of anyone else."

"I guess that school we go to is teaching us something. Maybe I should start going to class and one day I can learn how to read as well."

"A novel concept."

Finn whipped his head around to look her dead in the eye. "I hate puns."

"Are you serious?" Rory replied, flabbergasted. Sure, some people weren't partial to puns, but she'd never seen Finn be so serious about anything. Even drinking.

"They're awful. But I'm so good at them! Thus is my curse," he sighed.

"Again with the melodrama."

"I'm a one-man show, opening soon on Broadway."

Rory laughed and shook her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Easily interchanged with charming, adorable or multifaceted, am I correct?" he asked as his trademark smirk fell back into place. His eyes never left the road, but he started to laugh as Rory turned in her seat to get a better look at him. "Stop it, love, you're gonna make me blush."

"You?" she replied skeptically. "Blush? Do you get embarrassed?"

"Of course. You would not believe some of the girls I wake up to in the morning. Beer goggles are nothing to be proud of, you know." He slammed on the breaks suddenly as a semi truck swerved over into their lane. "Bloody fuck, did you see that? I swear the truck drivers on the east coast are crazy. Let me tell you, kitten, they are not this reckless on the west coast. Except for the logging trucks, of course, but can you blame them?"

On the west coast. He said it with such authority. "How many times have you driven cross country?"

"Both ways? Not more than five. This is my first time driving directly to LA though. My parents have a summer home in Orange County. When Logan, Colin and I were in boarding school together, we drove out there a few times." He snapped his fingers together as an idea came to him. "I should take you there while Logan is working."

"You mean while we're in LA?"

"Why is this so shocking? LA is boring," he informed her.

"Boring? LA?"

"Yes, love. It's just like any other big city. And traffic at two in the morning? I'd rather shoot myself in the face."

"That might be overkill," she teased.

The smirk disappeared and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I was serious about the puns!" he cried.

"'What A Difference A State Makes,'" Finn snorted with laughter, causing Rory to look up from the directions. "That's a loaded slogan."

"Are we out of New York already?" she asked. The traffic had been awful and put Finn in a bad mood, so she'd chosen to ignore his sniping until they got out of the state.

Finn nodded in confirmation. "And thank god, I was this close to saying 'fuck it' and flying us out there. But where is the fun in that? Rory, my love, we are going to become best friends on this trip!" He batted his eyelashes at her as he said this.

She chose to ignore that. "So we're in New Jersey?"

"What a difference a state makes!" he repeated with false enthusiasm.

"You're going to keep repeating that, aren't you?"

"Until it gets less funny!" He leaned over and turned off the CD of The Mountain Goats they had been listening to and turned on the radio. "There's a great trance station somewhere in New Jersey," he explained to her.

"Trance?"

"The music, dear."

"I know what trance is, I just never expected you to listen to it," she replied, still slightly surprised from this sudden information.

"What did you think I listened to, frat music? I'll have you know that I have an extensive music knowledge that branches to beyond a didgeridoo and Rihanna," he told her.

"To be fair, I never thought you listened to Rihanna. I actually hadn't given much thought to the type of music you listen to," she admitted. "I just never thought of you as an audiophile."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't go that far. I just like music." He stopped the scan station at the end of an awful 80s power ballad. "How much do you like cheesy music?"

"Not as much as good music," she replied.

"Trick question!" he yelled over the DJ. "They're the same thing." He broke out into a huge grin as the next song started and he turned up the volume. "Oh by the way, I like to sing."

Rory recognized the song almost instantly. To grow up with Lorelai Gilmore and not recognize George Michael? Unacceptable. Finn was grinning and bobbing his head and screaming along with the lyrics. His voice was atrocious. But his enthusiasm was infectious, and she soon found herself singing along with him, something she almost never did in front of people who weren't Lane and her mother, and certainly not in front of members of the opposite sex.

"Oh but I need some time off from that emotion, to pick my heart up off the floor. And when that love comes down without devotion, well it takes a strong man baby but I'm showing you the door," they sang together, their voices drowning out the radio, "'cause I gotta have faith."

Finn started to laughed boisterously when Rory gave out a high pitched, "Baby!" but started to sing in a strange falsetto voice to make her laugh and put her at ease.

They sang all the way to Pennsylvania.

Finn stifled a yawn an hour outside of the Ohio border. He spared a glance at Rory, who had her pillow wedged between her head and the door frame, though her eyes were still open. It was a little after two am.

They'd sang and talked and ate, though he complained about all the McDonalds along the way. Really, did the restaurant chain have a monopoly on the I-80 or something? But the talking had died off around midnight as Rory's eyes drooped, though she never gave into the sleep.

"Aren't you tired, doll?" he asked her in a low voice. Something soft played in the background; he couldn't identify it with the volume turned down so far.

"I can't sleep in the car," she replied, her voice thick with sleep.

"There's a town in about twenty miles, want to stop there?"

"If you're done driving."

He smiled in spite of himself. "Don't play this game," he warned playfully, "I can drive all night. But I kept you waiting, so do you want to stop?"

She nodded slowly and he pushed the accelerator further down. Fifteen minutes later he pulled up in front of a Hampton Inn. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't asleep. "I'm gonna go get a room, be right back."

She opened her eyes slightly to acknowledge that he was talking to her, but closed them again when he opened the door to get out. After what felt like forever, he opened up the door to the passenger side of the car and her eyes flew open. "Bed?"

"Come with me," he chuckled.

She barely let him turn on the lights before discarding her shoes and pants and climbing into bed and finally letting sleep overcome her.