A/N: Hey, folks, remember me? Well, I'm back with new Literati fic. Of course, I have no idea if anyone is going to like this odd new idea that I've had for a Rory/Jess story, but I figure y'all will let me know in a review when you've read this first chapter, right? I do hope so! :)

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters and dialogue from Gilmore Girls belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino and other folks who aren't me.

Chapter 1

Jess locked up the front door of the book store and turned the sign to closed. It had been a pretty busy day, all told, which was a good thing. From his preliminary look at the register an hour ago, he would say they had made a decent profit for a dull September day. It was something Matthew was happy to confirm as he opened up the cash drawer, looked at the piles of bills stuffed inside, and let out a low whistle.

"Not bad, guys," he said, looking to Chris when he appeared from out back. "We keep this up, we might all actually make rent this month. Well, those of us that need to," he said, casting his eyes in Jess' direction.

He got the finger for his trouble. After all, it wasn't as if Jess didn't pay rent, he just didn't pay as much as his friends did. That was what happened when you were an adult in a real relationship, At least, that's what he told Matthew and Chris. What he and Francie had was less a relationship than it was a convenient arrangement. A one-night stand, that turned into a weekend, that turned into living together because he had no place else to go and she was away a lot. They weren't loves young dream, not by a long-shot, but that wasn't something Jess wanted to get into right now.

"You know, Matt's serious," said Chris then, flipping through the receipts and reviewing the days takings. "We have a few more days like this, we can probably afford to finally do something with upstairs, you know, open it up as more floorspace for the store, maybe even hold limited-entry events up there."

It had been the plan for such a long time, but Jess had never truly believed they would make it happen. To think that a couple of years ago he had been living in that upstairs room, alongside Chris, Matthew, and two other guys besides. It was cramped, usually either way too hot or way too cold, depending on the time of year, and honestly, it did not smell good most of the time. Still, it was a place that wasn't the street. At the time, it was all Jess had needed, all that he wanted. Even now, he had smaller ambitions than most guys in their mid-twenties might, but at least he was living his life instead of merely surviving it.

Checking his watch, he told his friends he was heading out, walking through to the back to retrieve his jacket. He had opened up that morning, so he had more than earned his pay, happy to leave the others to the after-closing routine of dealing with the money and checking the shelves and displays. Besides, he kind of had a date.

Maybe date was too strong a word, he considered, as he made his way home. Appointment wasn't exactly accurate either. Probably the best way to describe what he had this evening was a plan with his computer. Of course, that could sound like something way more perverted than it actually was. All Jess really wanted out of the remainder of his day was to go home, jump online, and read the email he hoped to have have received by now, from a woman he had never actually met in real life.

He was aware it was pathetic. It was why he never talked to Matthew or Chris about his 'relationship' with CoffeeGirl84. They were not going to understand it and he would take so much crap for even trying to explain how he got talking to this person in a chat room about books and then couldn't seem to stop.

The whole emailing thing had been going on for a couple of months now, maybe a little longer. It was harmless stuff, Jess knew, nothing to be ashamed of or to feel bad about. They really did just talk about books most of the time. What he was reading, what she was reading, their favourite things to revisit, the few unfortunate times they had to give up on a book and not finish because it was just that bad.

Of course, they didn't agree on everything, and sometimes, it was the disagreeing that was half the fun. Not that there wasn't more to it than just books. They did talk about other stuff too, but they had ground rules on that, just to keep things on an even keel. No specifics, which included no names, no career or class information, and no talk of family connections. They kept it light and general, and yet, Jess was still sure that, somehow, he was closer to this girl than anyone else in the world.

Finally, sat alone on the couch in what he would always think of as Francie's apartment rather than his own, Jess switched on the laptop and went right to his email, smiling when he saw that he did indeed have a new message from CoffeeGirl84. Settling down among the cushions, a beer on the side table, and nothing to distract him, he began to read.

So, this weekend, I finally gave the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance, and I guess maybe he has some good qualities, since you seem so insistent that he only had lovely things to say about me. (Did I mention you're a little crazy?) Anyway, I thought I would start with your favourite, so Saturday afternoon, I settled down with The Sun Also Rises...

"Ace?"

Rory was surprised to hear Logan's voice calling to her the moment she came in through the apartment door. Walking quickly through to the living room, she found him reclining on the couch with a book in his hand, though he abandoned it pretty fast when he saw her there.

"Hey," he said as he rose to meet her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight.

"Hey, yourself," she said, briefly hugging him back. "I thought you were in London until at least this weekend?"

"Change of plans," Logan explained as they parted. "Mitchum needs me in meetings on this side of the pond on Wednesday and Thursday, so he flew me over. Of course, the downside is he's sending me back on Friday, and then, I'll probably be gone for at least another week."

"Oh, well, okay." Rory nodded in understanding. "I guess it's a fair trade?" she tried, not really believing it any more than he did.

"Yeah, fair isn't exactly what dear old dad is going for when he arranges these things, but anyway, I'm here and you're here, so none of that part sucks."

"I'll agree with that," she told him with a smile. "Uh, what were you reading?"

"Would you believe a Hemingway?" Logan told her, retrieving it from the couch. "It was just lying on the coffee table, and I know you don't care for Ernest, so I guess my next question is what kind of people you've been having over while I was gone?"

He said it like he was kidding, as if he would never in a million years suspect her of an affair or something, only Rory knew better. It took one to know one when it came to cheating and Logan was not what anyone could call whiter than white. He had his indiscretions, and for reasons she preferred not to examine too hard most of the time, Rory always forgave him. She never did anything like that herself, but of course, she could see why he might think she would, just to get back at him. She let that go too, just because it was easier.

"Actually, the Hemingway is mine," she explained, picking it from his hand. "I got talking to someone, a friend, about Ernest and how I may have misjudged him. So, I decided, as an experiment, to try again."

"Huh, interesting," said Logan, looking at her like he wasn't quite buying. "What's the verdict?"

Rory shrugged her shoulders. "I still don't love the guy, but his writing isn't completely awful."

It was just about the most succinct response she could have given, a million times shorter than the in-depth analysis she had written when telling the friend she just mentioned what she now thought of The Sun Also Rises. The difference was, she knew that NYC360 was truly interested in her critique of literature, no matter what kind. Logan was just asking for asking's sake. He was well-read enough to hold a literary conversation, but most of the time, he didn't care to, not anymore.

In college, he had been different, but college was a long time ago now, Rory was well aware. She was also aware that Logan seemed pretty eager to get her to put down the book and her bag, shed more than just her coat, and probably show him how glad she was to have him home. With a sigh, she gave in to the kisses he started planting on her lips and neck, figuring she had no real reason to protest at all. Not that she was overly enthusiastic either. It had been a long day at work, a lot of meetings, a lot of stress. Settling down with a glass of wine and a book all by herself actually appealed more than getting physical with the boyfriend right now, but she figured she could have both if she played the situation right.

As expected, when the reunion whoopee was over, Logan fell asleep, no doubt jetlagged from the plane ride over as much as anything. That gave Rory the chance to tidy up the apartment, get some dinner, read for a bit, and even put in a long-overdue call to her mom.

"So, hey la, the boyfriend's back," said Lorelai, almost in tune for once.

"Yeah, I guess he is." Rory sighed. "But not for long. He'll be gone again in a couple of days," she explained, keeping her voice low so that Logan wouldn't hear if he happened to wake up in the next room. "Honestly, it's easier sometimes when he's gone. You know how I am with my routine."

"Do I ever, babe?" her mom agreed, "But still, you love the guy, so he's worth a little disruption."

Rory didn't know how to answer that one, so she just changed the subject, asking instead what Lorelai was up to, how Luke and Tommy were doing, what was happening lately at the inn. It was all a good distraction, but also genuinely things she wanted to hear about, so it all worked out.

A while later, a few minutes after the call was over anyway, she heard movement in the bedroom and Logan appeared, wearing nothing but his underwear and a smile.

"Hey, sorry about that," he apologised, running a hand down over his face. "I guess I'm a little more jetlagged than I thought."

"No problem," Rory assured him. "If you need to sleep, go for it. I won't be much longer anyway," she told him, nodding towards the laptop now nestled in her lap.

"You work too hard," he told her, pointing his finger her way.

"I work as much as I need to work to maintain excellence," she countered with a smile. "As my boss demands. Now, go back to bed, sleepy head. I'll be there soon."

Logan nodded is agreement, then disappeared back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Rory sighed with nothing less than relief, then opened up her email account. She wasn't actually going to work anymore tonight, at least, it wasn't the plan. She was just hoping that maybe a certain friend of hers might have replied to her latest email.

Maybe friend was too strong a word for a guy she only knew via email, who she had never shared names or any identifying details with, but she honestly felt as if she knew NYC360 better than almost anyone else in her life. He certainly seemed to understand her better than most, she thought, her eyes straying to the bedroom door and back.

Rory's heart skittered in the chest as she realised she did indeed have an email in her 'CoffeeGirl84' inbox and, yes, it was from NYC360. She usually wrote him during the day, between meetings, on her lunch break, whenever she could find the time, but his response times varied a lot more. Sometimes, she got to read them before bed, other times, they didn't arrive in time and she read them over breakfast instead. Tonight, she was in luck. Tonight, she got to read all his latest thoughts and opinions before the need to sleep overtook her.

I can't believe it took this much effort to get you to try Hemingway again, but I mark it up to your good taste that you got there eventually, and that you took my advice, of course. I guess this means I should return the favour and give The Fountainhead another shot. Seriously though, I stand by what I said. Ayn Rand was a political nut...

To Be Continued...