Fly Into the Sun

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One: Freshman Year

Chapter Three: Little Talks and Big Thoughts

Sunday brunch with the elders has become something of a tradition over the years. It used to be part and parcel of the Sunday morning routine of Church, Sunday school (Youth Group when she got older), and brunch to cap things off, but Rory stopped attending services during high school, when she started questioning the inconsistencies in the Bible, the existence of God, and her place in the universe.

It was a strange time, fraught with her grandparents' bewildered disapproval, her parents' unfaltering support and Rory's own existential crisis, but through it all, the brunches remained.

These days, the meal serves as an opportunity to stay connected with her family, though it remains informal, and not everyone attends at one time. Her mother never joins if she can help it, her father usually makes an appearance once a month or so, and the various elders come and go as their respective schedules allow.

On this particular occasion, Rory joins Trix and Grandpa Richard at a cafe overlooking the Connecticut River. It's a regular haunt of their's, with an excellent brunch menu and even better coffee.

"No Grandma today?" Rory queries. The Grandparents Hayden are spending a couple of weeks at Martha's Vineyard - they've sent their regrets - and Chris had therefore opted to spend his morning elbows deep in car parts and motor oil, but she had not heard that Grandma Emily would be absent.

"Emily is attending a baby shower today," Richard explains, "It's for the daughter of one of the DAR ladies, I believe."

"That's so exciting," Rory acknowledges, "I'll have to pass on my congratulations."

Grateful she wasn't invited and uninterested in anymore details besides, Rory turns her attention to the menu. It changes seasonally, and even the seasonal options are never the same, so there's always something new to try.

"I think I'm going to get the Chorizo Hash."

"I'm leaning towards the Big Breakfast myself," Richard replies, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Living dangerously, I see," Rory quips, "Grandma will kill you."

"What Emily doesn't know won't hurt her."

"It might hurt you though," Trix opines, eyeballing Richard over her glasses, "How is your cholesterol going?"

"Quite fine," Richard answers, his smile suddenly strained, "I'm fit as a fiddle."

"I'm sure," Trix answers, though she doesn't look or sound remotely convinced.

Rory busies herself with distributing water from the jug provided, discomforted by the turn in their conversation. The tension between mother and son is palpable, and Rory's a bit weary of reminders of the elders' mortality besides. As far as she's concerned, they'll all be around forever.

Mercifully, the tableau is interrupted by the arrival of their server, a bubbly, bright-eyed blonde who takes their orders with the easy efficiency of experience.

When she departs, Trix returns her attention to Richard.

"That food is heading straight to your waistline."

"Never mind me," Richard dismisses, "How are you, Rory? How is your mother?"

"I'm fine. Not sure about Mom - I haven't seen her since Friday."

"She didn't take news of the money well, I assume?" Trix prods, astute as ever.

Rory sighs, weary. "It could've gone better."

"I'm sorry," Richard says, sympathetic but unsurprised. He places a consoling hand over Rory's, "She'll come around."

"I just don't understand why she's so mad," Rory grouses, "It's not like I've fundamentally changed because of it."

"Because she equates wealth to Hertford Society and she hates everything about Society." Trix replies.

Her father said something similar, but Rory's still just as dissatisfied with the explanation as she was the day prior.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"It doesn't," Trix agrees, "But feelings aren't always rational."

"What you need to keep in mind, Rory, is that Lorelai's opinion of society was obtained through the lens of a teenaged mother," Richard explains, "I won't deny that their treatment of her was disgraceful. In fact, I have never forgotten the scorn they heaped upon her - It infuriates me to this day - and there are many former friends and acquaintances I still refuse to acknowledge because of it."

"It's all tied up in our history," Trix contributes, sounding bored, "Protestant, Puritan ancestors, history, tradition, so on and so forth. It was all very tiresome then, and it is just as tiresome now."

"Tell me what you really think, Gran," Rory replies, laughing despite herself.

"regardless," Richard continues, undeterred by the interruption, "Our friends had their opinions, and they were not hesitant about expressing them. Unfortunately, Lorelai bore the brunt of their vitriol, so she formed her poor opinion of society, left, and here we are."

Rory bites her tongue on the comment that of course only Lorelai got slammed by their criticism because it's neither the time nor the place for a rant about society's double standards regarding men, women and sex and all that goes with it. Never mind that there were two people involved in her conception, Lorelai had to be at fault - Men can do no wrong, after all. Something of her thoughts must appear on her face though, because Trix makes eye contact with her, and the elder's gaze speaks volumes regarding her own disdain.

Rory feels heard, and seen, and understood.

"We are not trying to invalidate your mother's viewpoint," Trix reassures, "After her experience, her resentment is entirely justified. As much as she goes on and on about how you are her miniature, however, you are not her, you are not a pregnant teenager, and therefore, your experiences with society will not be comparable."

"That makes sense," Rory concedes, and pointedly ignores the dig at Lorelai'.

It isn't the first time she has heard criticism of her mother's insistence that Rory is Lorelai's miniature. The claim was indulged when Rory was a child because Rory's resemblance to her mother at the same age (but with Emily's red hair) had been truly uncanny, but in recent years, it seems most everyone has lost patience with the oft-repeated refrain.

Rory's dad, Christopher, insists that she's her own person, with her own hopes and dreams and plans. He's only grown more candid since her 18th birthday.

Rory's grandparents - all four of them - pointedly avoid engaging whenever the subject is raised. They don't want to cause conflict with the impetuous and emotionally volatile Lorelai (their words), but they don't intend to encourage the narrative, either.

Luke rolls his eyes every time it's mentioned. Sookie changes the subject. Tristan, when they were together, thought it was weird and unhealthy in a co-dependent kind of way.

Rory doesn't want to think about it, never mind talk about it. Therefore, she ignores the bait from Trix and instead does her best to move the conversation along.

"But it's irrelevant, anyway," Rory continues, "It's not like I'm particularly involved in society."

"Aren't you?" Trix challenges, "Your cotillion, your relationship with Tristan DuGrey, and your involvement with the Dar implies otherwise, my dear."

"That doesn't mean anything," Rory protests, wondering if her mother is right. Maybe the money does come with strings.

Trix rolls her eyes. "I know Lorelai's convinced herself that Stars Hollow is a bubble where the rest of the world can't touch you two, but you do not live in a vacuum. You may not have realised it would happen, but society has noticed you."

Rory scowls, disgruntled, "I don't care."

"You may not care, but society certainly does."

"I don't know why. It's not like they ever cared before."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Trix answers reasonably, because apparently the woman has an explanation for everything.

Rory pulls a face. "Great."

Fortunately for Rory's temper, their conversation drifts to other things - Richard's work, Rory's internship, books they've been reading - and their food arrives in due time. All the while, Rory tries not to dwell on the matter of Lorelai and Society and Rory's place amongst it all, but the sour feeling lingers, and she can't shake it for the life of her.

"Are you ready for Yale?" Richard asks, "I suppose the semester should be starting up soon."

"Two weeks until I move into the dorms," Rory confirms.

"Wonderful," Richard beams, "You'll have a fantastic time - I guarantee it."

Rory's responding smile is half-hearted at best. "I hope so."

Sour mood aside, Rory suffers from a chronic and severe case of analysis paralysis. As a result, her enthusiasm for college has shifted into an enduring sense of anxiety. She's afraid to leave the comfort and familiarity of home, afraid she won't do well in a more academically rigorous environment than she's accustomed to, afraid she won't be able to bear the weight of everyone's crushing expectations.

Mostly though, she's afraid of failing.

-!- -#-

Reluctant to spend her Sunday evening walking on eggshells around her mother, Rory doesn't return to Stars Hollow until Monday morning. She heads directly to the office of the Stars Hollow Gazette, where she chokes down a mug of the battery acid masquerading as coffee, greets the staff already present, and makes herself comfortable at her lonely desk. She busies herself with proofing a small story she'd been assigned - the recent and increasing issue of littering and vandalism in Stars Hollow parks - but before she knows it, it's the Gazette's Monday morning meeting, and the newsroom staff - all 15 of them - are gathering in the Gazette's one and only conference room.

Rory files in behind the rest, makes herself comfortable in a seat near the back, and listens quietly to the conversation around her. Talk of the weekend just passed, neighbourhood gossip, the usual chorus of laments about the start of yet another work week. The reporters greet her pleasantly, ask about her weekend and quiz her about her imminent matriculation at Yale, and Rory takes it all in, sorry to see her time here drawing to a close. It's been illuminating and educational - in more ways than one - and the lessons are those she'll take with her wherever she goes.

Harvey, the Gazette's gregarious Editor, calls the meeting to order in due time. He's a big guy with a bigger personality, a tendency to smoke a pack a day, and with an extensive background in the newspaper industry. Supposedly, the Gazette is his last, low maintenance stint before he retires properly, but throughout her internship, Rory's had the impression that he's already mentally checked out of the job, that his heart isn't in it at all, and that he already has one foot out the door.

Naturally, there's half a dozen people entirely willing and eager to take his place. The jockeying, schmoozing and politicking has been ruthlessly cutthroat, and not an aspect of the newspaper industry Rory has ever really thought about or is remotely prepared for.

Lowly intern that she is, Rory tries not to dwell on it.

Stories are assigned. Rory's tasked with taking photos for their Business columnist as he writes up an article about a new bakery opening up in town, and also tasked with shadowing their Politics columnist as she plans out a series of stories to publish in the lead up to the municipal election in November. She's also assigned a piece about the fundraising efforts for Stars Hollow High's new gymnasium (photos included), and it's an altogether gentle easing off of tasks for her last week with the Gazette.

"I'd also like to remind everyone that Rory is finishing up with us on Thursday," Harvey adds, "Rory, thank you for your dedication these last couple of months. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say it's been a privilege to help you grow as a Journalist, and we all wish you well for your future endeavours."

"Thank you," Rory answers, blushing under everyone's gazes, "I've learned so much from all of you, and I'm so grateful I've had this opportunity."

Thankfully, there isn't much more to Harvey's acknowledgement. The meeting ends, and the team disperses to continue with their work. There will be an informal and impromptu pizza lunch on Thursday to send Rory off properly, full of jokes and anecdotes and fond wishes for Rory's time at Yale, career advice and stories of college misadventures, but in the meantime, there are things to do and people to see, and Rory is not yet ready to say goodbye.

"Work lunch later?" Katie suggests, "I'm dying for some of Luke's chilli cheese fries."

Katie is the Gazette's Politics columnist. She's 26 to Rory's 18, a Hertford native paying her dues with community news, but with ambitions to have a byline in the New York Times, or the Washington Post, or the Guardian - She's not picky.

Katie also happens to be the only person at the Stars Hollow Gazette that Rory feels she's connected with beyond polite pleasantries between colleagues. Realistically, their friendship (such as it is) isn't likely to last long after the duration of Rory's internship, but Rory respects Katie's opinions, advice and insights, and enjoys the other woman's company besides.

Reason, season or lifetime, Rory is resolved to enjoy the friendship for however long it lasts.

"I'll bring the employee discount," Rory concurs.

"Great," Katie acknowledges, "I'm off to grab some decent coffee - I'll meet you at your desk at twelve?"

"See you then."

They part ways, and Rory's morning flies by. She submits her littering article for editing, and then contacts Stars Hollow High's administration team to arrange a time the following day to stop by for interviews and photographs. Paul, the Gazette's Business Columnist, has her join him as he conducts interviews regarding the new bakery, where she takes photos, chit-chats with locals - Taylor is somehow more obnoxious than usual - and observes Paul's frankly enviable ease with people, and in particular, his ability to draw out conversation from the reluctant and the awkward.

"People like to talk about themselves," Paul explains, when Rory asks him about it, "Ask enough of the right questions and soon you'll have them sharing their entire life story."

"But every interview is different. How do you know what the right questions are?"

"Practise."

Rory slumps, disheartened. "Of course it's practise - God forbid it be something easy."

"If you want easy, this isn't the right industry for you."

Rory sets her jaw stubbornly. "I've wanted to be a journalist for forever."

Paul shrugs indifferently. "Dreams change."

"Mine don't."

Paul casts her a sideways glance, smiling. His eyes are amused. "Sure."

Feeling inexplicably defensive, Rory walks away from the older reporter. Despite the distance she places between them, however, Rory can't escape his words, because Paul is right. Dreams do change.

And as Rory raises the camera to take another picture of Stars Hollow's newest storefront, Rory's fairly certain her dreams are no exception.