Author Notes: This story will eventually be Rory/Jess with Lorelai/Luke as a background pairing. But it's also more than that. I first watched Gilmore Girls when I was 12 years old, and it's helped me through some hard times. This story is my big love letter to Stars Hollow, and because of this, there's going to be lots of things that don't advance the Rory/Jess storyline very much, but are just aspects of the show that have to be there, such as Friday Night Dinners and Kirk's antics.

This story will mostly be in Rory's POV, with a few shifts for the sake of telling a clear story. The end of chapter notes will include explanations of all of the references made throughout the chapter. Special thanks to ksfd89 for betaing, and if you like Rory/Jess you should definitely go check out her awesome fics.

CHAPTER ONE

He's sitting alone, book in one hand, pen in the other. You're twenty-four, still too young to feel so tired. When you see him it reminds you that there's no such thing as a blank slate. And you know, you just know, that Gilmore women never really fall out of love, because as soon as you see him, the years don't matter, as soon as you see him, it's like it was before. All of a sudden, you're seventeen and dizzy.

He doesn't even look up from his book.

Hep Alien was halfway through their third song by the time Rory made it to the bar. She blamed her mother; years of her influence had finally made Rory into the habitual latecomer she'd been destined to become. The genes had been dormant, but there was no pretending that they weren't there.

She sat at the bar and ordered a beer. There was gunk on the side of the glass, but she didn't drink during the week anyway. She'd known that, but had ordered it anyway. A bad habit, from nights spent trying to keep up with Logan's friends. It had been years, but she couldn't break it, just as she could never watch the Donna Reed show without inventing imaginary arguments with Dean about gender roles, telling him everything she wasn't brave enough to before.

The song ended, and Rory clapped as loudly as she could. The dark lighting made it hard for her to really see Lane, but she knew without looking that her best friend was in her element, here in a dive bar in the city. It was, as Lane was constantly reminding her, how all of the greats had started out. The gross bikers and the stains on the walls were proof that they were on their way to making it big.

"Hey, it beats touring churches in Gil's sandwich van," Lane had pointed out when she'd told Rory where they'd be playing.

Rory had barely remembered that that tour had happened. A lot of things from that period of time were like that, blurry.

It took her two more songs to notice Jess.

He was sitting at a table by himself, pen in hand, poised to write something in the book he was carrying. He always wrote in pen, confident enough in his thoughts that he was sure he wouldn't want to erase them later. Rory was always erasing things she had once been sure of. She kept her eyes trained on the band, but they kept slipping back to him. It took her a few minutes to recognize what it was she was feeling.

Annoyance.

Who did he think he was, ignoring everything around him like that?

She slipped off her stool and walked to his table. "You know, you're supposed to pay attention to the band." She crossed her arms and waited. The air was thick with dust.

Jess looked up from his book. "Who says I'm not paying attention?"

"You're reading a book. Why did you come all the way here to do something you could have done at home? It's rude."

"Do you wanna sit down, or do you prefer to loom over me when you're lecturing me about manners?"

Rory hesitated, then sat. The chair was sticky against her bare legs. "What are you doing here?"

Jess raised his eyebrows. "Well, I heard that if I sat here with a book long enough, a sanctimonious journalist would decide it was her duty to tell me how to behave. You know, I just live for these celebrity sightings."

"How did you—"

"Know you were a journalist? Don't act so surprised, Gilmore." He took a swig of beer; he'd gone the smarter route and ordered a bottle. "I've been keeping up with your bylines ever since I realized you were writing for the New Yorker. I especially liked the one about flagday in Denmark."

Rory looked down at the scratches on the table's surface. "I'm only writing small pieces right now, but getting paid to write anything's amazing. Anyway, I didn't mean what are you doing at this bar, I meant why are you in New York? What happened to Philadelphia?"

"It's still there," Jess said. He'd closed the book now, but still had a finger between the pages, holding his place. "I just wanted to come home for a little while."

"Oh." Rory couldn't think of anything else to say.

"How's Lorelai?" Jess asked.

"She's… Lorelai, I guess." Rory shrugged helplessly. "I should go. They're finishing up their set, and I promised Lane we'd get coffee once they were finished."

"They're good," Jess said. "Gone a bit too Foghat for me, but tell Lane she nailed that drum solo."

"They have not gone Foghat," Rory said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"Yeah, maybe," Jess said. By the time Rory had made her way to the corner where the band was set up, he had already resumed his reading.

"Is that Jess you were just talking to?" Lane asked as Rory helped her take apart the drum kit. "Because if it was, I want to know why he wasn't paying any attention to the awesomeness that is my band."

"Oh, he was paying attention," Rory said. "He said to tell you that he liked your drum solo. Where are the boys tonight?"

"Mama's babysitting. She loves when I leave them alone with her because it gives her a chance to cram all of the Bible lessons she can think of in their heads. But come on, you've gotta give me something. What is he doing here?"

Rory looked back at the boy who'd scribbled in her margins all those years ago. "Why does Jess ever do anything?" she replied. "Come on, let's get this packed so we can get coffee."

He'd seen a flier weeks ago and known she'd be there, but he'd been so busy planning to show up that he hadn't thought of what to say.

She'd sounded like Lorelai. Jess had wanted to tell her that, but of course she already knew. People tended to turn out like their parents. He'd wanted to ask her which parent he'd gotten the most of, although he wasn't sure if it made much difference whether he was more like Liz or Jimmy.

He ordered another beer, with no intention of drinking it. Thought about Luke's reengagement to Lorelai, changed his mind, and drank it. People were supposed to end up like their parents, but maybe Jess had ended up like Luke, because that was the only other person he knew who loved one woman and never looked back. Only Luke had had a fighting chance. Luke hadn't met Lorelai when they were too young and stupid to make it work. Luke hadn't left.

Maybe he wasn't like Luke after all.

When Jess finally went back to his apartment after two more beers, he realized that maybe he was as much of a mess as he'd ever been, underneath everything else that was there.

Rory's room was still her room, a shrine to a life that didn't feel like hers. If she looked in the wardrobe, she was sure she'd see her Chilton uniform, hanging as though she were about to put it on and go take an important test. This was the room where she'd gotten ready for school and parties, read Dostoevsky for the first time, hid when she was fighting with her mother. Written a hundred pro/con lists about a hundred inconsequential things.

(Where she'd had sex with Dean.)

Where she'd gone during school breaks, where she'd kept books she couldn't bring herself to retrieve the semester she'd broken down and left. The room she'd shared with Gigi for the 50 days that constituted the marriage of Christopher and Lorelai.

(Where Logan had slept by her side when he'd visited.)

She wanted to burn it to the ground.

25 was a red letter year. Nobody would let her forget that, which was why she was here, looking over the books she'd read, surrounded by the ghosts of women she could have become. Thinking of decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse, or however the poem went.

Her mother poked her head in the door. "You ready?"

"Ready for what?" Rory turned away from the bookshelf.

"Dinner at Luke's!"

"I thought Luke was coming here to make dinner."

Lorelai waved her hand as though waving away the very notion of Luke cooking at their house. "Don't be ridiculous. I have to get you out of the house so that Babette and Miss Patty can set up for your surprise party."

Rory reached for the sweater that was hanging over her chair. "You know, when most people throw surprise parties they keep it a secret from the guest of honor. You're throwing years of time honored tradition out the window."

"But if I hadn't told you there was a surprise party, you wouldn't have wanted to leave New York. I tried to get you to come here, but no, you wanted me to come to New York instead. Come on! Luke's making you a special birthday dinner. Three kinds of cake and no vegetables."

"I have no problem with vegetables. You're the one who refuses to eat vegetables."

"Are you lying?"

"Yes."

"That's my girl. Let's go! But leave the door unlocked so that Babette and Miss Patty can get in!"

Rory looked around the room, sighed deeply, and followed her mother out of the back door.

At first she thought he was just another ghost. It'd make sense; she'd been seeing her past flash before her eyes ever since she'd gotten back to Stars Hollow. Not to mention that he'd been on her mind since the concert two weeks ago. But then he smirked, and before Rory knew it she was walking over to where he stood by the window and demanding, "What are you doing here?"

"Miss Patty invited me. Said something about wanting the past to be so vivid you'd forget you ever left. She must have gotten my number from Luke."

Rory looked out the window onto the porch. "They're never going to forgive me for moving, are they?"

"Prob'ly not."

"Wait," Rory said, turning to look at him. "You don't think they invited—did they?"

"You mean the creep you were with in college? Nah, he's not from around here, they wouldn't have invited him. Although, come to thinking it, I think she did say something about—"

"Rory!" called an unmistakable voice. Rory turned around and saw Paris walking determinedly towards her. "Thank God. If I have to explain the difference between a surgeon and a doctor to one more person, my head might actually explode. Do you even have a hospital in this town?"

"Paris, it's so good to see you!" Rory said, throwing her arms around her friend. "Is Doyle here too?"

Paris stiffened, even more so than she usually did when hugged. "We broke up last month."

"Oh, Paris!" Rory said, letting go. "You should have called me. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, he's fine, everything's just fine, can we please not talk about it?" Paris noticed Jess. "Oh, you. You still think Jane Austin would have liked Bukowski?"

"Yep."

"Typical. I'm going to get a drink. Happy Birthday, Rory."

Jess watched her walk away, then turned back to Rory. "She's mellowed out."

"She really has."

"So, I was worried that Patty had invited Paul Bunyan, but he seems like a no-show," Jess said, returning to their previous conversation.

"Yeah, Dean moved back to Chicago pretty soon after…" Rory trailed off, realizing exactly what circumstances had led to Dean's departure.

Jess touched her shoulder gently. "'Sall right. Luke told me what happened."

Rory looked back out the window. "Sounds like Luke's been feeling chatty lately."

"I think your mother's been a bad influence."

Finally, a safe topic. "I'd believe that. The other day I heard him make a pop culture reference."

Jess faked a gasp. "No!"

"Yes! Granted, it was a bit dated, but a pop culture reference nevertheless!"

"And people say there's no news in small towns." Jess grinned. It sent her reeling for a moment, a little whisper of emotion like the notes he'd always written on her receipts at Luke's.

"Will you be at the wedding?" Rory flinched at the formality of her own voice.

Jess nodded. "Yeah. It's the least I can do, after all Luke's done for me. God, I hated him when they first made me move here."

"I remember." Rory said. She was suddenly too aware of her arms, and crossed them in front of her chest.

"I wasn't used to people sticking around. Probably why I—but Luke's a great guy. I'm glad they finally worked things out."

Rory was about to respond when she heard Babette's laughter from the couch. They weren't as alone as she felt like they were, and suddenly she realized how unfair it was that she was ignoring everyone else this way, after all they'd done for her. "I should probably go mingle. Say hello to your mom and TJ for me." Formal again, like she'd learned in the DAR. Or other, less nice words. Distant. Detached. Going, Going, Gone. She went to the kitchen to get herself a drink.

Sookie was putting something in the oven, and turned guiltily when Rory approached.

"Please don't tell your mother. I know I was only supposed to do four desserts, but I just had the most amazing—Key lime pie! I figured I'd just—I can sneak it onto the table when she's not looking, I promise she won't notice—"

"Notice what?" Lorelai asked, sauntering into the room. "Sookie!" she scolded. "I told you, we have plenty of—"

Rory escaped into the living room, not in the mood to hear the ensuing argument, the same one she'd been hearing almost her entire life.

"Rory!" Babette called. "C'mere, sugar, and tell us all about your job at the New Yorker. I keep tellin' Maury we need to pick us up a copy at the newsstand one of these days, ain't that right, Maury?"

"That's right."

"We were all so surprised, when you up and left the presidential gig for someone else to take. Not that we blame ya, of course!"

"It was all just a little fast paced for me after the inauguration," Rory said, sitting across from them. If the words sounded a little bit forced, it was only because she'd had to say them so many times. "I don't want to spend my whole career writing about politics." Jess was still standing by the window, arguing with Paris about something. Rory couldn't hear their conversation.

"Well, of course you don't, that's just what your mother said. I think it was damn smart of you to get out of there when you did! And of course, it must be nice for you to be so much closer to home!"

"Yeah it is," Rory said. She accidentally made eye contact with Jess, and in that moment she knew that he knew that she was a fraud.

The evening dragged on. People didn't start leaving until around midnight, but by 1:00 only Paris was left.

"I can help you clean up, if you want," she said quickly.

"It's okay, we probably won't start until tomorrow anyway."

Paris looked desperate. "But you at least need to clean up the food, right? Food can go bad, if you leave it out too long. And it attracts insects. You wouldn't want to wake up tomorrow with ants all over your kitchen."

"Sookie took the food home already."

"Decorations, then. If we clean them up now, you won't have to do it tomorrow, which clears up hours of time with which you could—"

"Paris, do you by any chance want to spend the night here?" Rory asked, half annoyed, half pleased.

"Could I? I told Doyle he could pick up the rest of his stuff tonight, since I'm not there. I'm not scared to run into him," she said quickly. "I just don't want this to be any more difficult than it has to be. Break-ups shouldn't be drawn out. When it's over, it's over."

"Right," Rory said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, you can stay in my room. My mom never got rid of the trundle bed."

"It's so weird that you still have a room here."

"Hey!"

"Well, it is."

Rory sighed. "I know. Hey Mom!" she called up the stairs. "Paris is spending the night."

"Okay, then you'd better both be up and ready for breakfast tomorrow! I had to promise Sookie that I'd let her cook for you while you were here."

"She cooked for tonight."

"I know, but she wants to cook something special just for you."

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"'Night!"

An hour later, Paris' voice broke through Rory's sleeplessness. "Rory? Are you awake?"

"It's two in the morning," Rory said. She tried to sound annoyed, but truth be told, it wasn't that unusual for her to be up this late anymore. "What do you want?"

"Turn on the light. I want to look at you while I'm talking to you."

Rory flipped on the lamp and rolled over onto her side, making a point of sighing loudly as she did so.

Paris was sitting cross-legged on the trundle bed, a look of determination on her face. "I'm ready to tell you why Doyle and I broke up."

"Why?"

"Well, because you're my best friend, and if there's anyone I'm going to talk to—"

"No, I mean why did you break up?"

"Oh." Paris looked down at her hands, which were uncharacteristically folded in her lap. "I told Doyle I was bisexual. He didn't take it too well." Her voice sounded thin.

"You're—what?"

"Bisexual? As in dates girls as well as guys? God, Gilmore, don't go all Dan Savage on me. It is possible to be attracted to more than one gender."

"I'm just surprised! How long have you known?"

"Seventh grade. Madeleine and Louise wanted to practice kissing so they'd know how to do it when they got boyfriends, which happened surprisingly soon after that. Lord knows how, but they talked me into it." Paris looked at Rory intently. "Okay, you need to tell me what's going on in your head right now, because you not saying anything is starting to freak me out. What's your take on the situation? Are we Buffy and Willow, or Ross and Carol?"

"What?"

"Well, when Willow came out Buffy was surprised, but ultimately supportive. When Carol came out to Ross, he flipped, and they never really went back to how they'd been before. I just need to know where we stand."

"Ross only flipped out because he and Carol were married. I don't think you and I will be having quite that problem."

"Rory, I'm serious," Paris said, sounding almost pleading. "You're my best friend. I need to know that you're okay with this."

"Of course I am! God, how could you think I wouldn't be?"

"Well, I had to be sure. I thought that Doyle would be fine with it too, and look how that turned out."

"Hey, if Doyle doesn't love you the way you are, then he doesn't deserve you."

"I know," Paris said, looking away. "But sometimes I wonder if anyone ever will love me the right way."

"They will. I promise."

"I guess."

"They will. It just takes time. It took my mom until now to figure it out, and she's done pretty darn well."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe your mom's just lucky, and that the rest of us aren't going to have it that easy?"

"Of course not," Rory said, a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary. "Now, go to sleep."

"Okay. Good night, Rory."

"Good night, Paris."

"I'm so bummed you have to go back to New York tomorrow," Lorelai said. "Are you sure you can't stay another few days? You only got back three days ago."

"I'll be back in November to help with the wedding preparations!"

"And think of how much easier things would be if you didn't have to go back and forth!"

"Coffee?" Luke asked, pouring it for them before they could answer.

"Thanks, Babe."

"I told you not to call me that."

"What do you want me to call you then?"

"Preferably, nothing that any soap opera couple would ever be caught dead using."

"So I guess 'Hubby' is out too? Not that I can actually call you hubby until January, but come on, it's a classic."

Luke turned to Rory. "Could you make your mother shut up?"

"Sorry. I'll let you know if I find the off switch, but until then, there's nothing I can do."

"Luke!" Kirk called from the counter. "Can I get a new PB and J? This one has peanut butter on it."

Luke turned around to reply. "Why, yes, Kirk, yes it does. You have expressed exactly the feature that makes it a PB and J."

"Well, I didn't want peanut butter. Lulu says it gets stuck in my mouth too long and makes my breath smell weird."

"Then why did you order a PB and J, Kirk?"

"I like ordering it. It's what I always get. How come Lorelai and Rory always get to order the same thing and I don't?"

"Because you shouldn't order food that has an ingredient you don't want to eat."

"Can you just make me a new one? My mom said I could only be gone for twenty minutes, and it's already been thirteen."

"How exactly am I supposed to make you a new PB and J when the problem you have with this one is—Oh, for God's sake, I'll just make you a jelly sandwich, would that make you happy?"

"Yes."

Luke turned back to Lorelai and Rory. "Apparently I have to go and make a jelly sandwich."

"See you tonight, Pookums," Lorelai said.

"No pet names!" Luke called as he walked off.

Lorelai turned back to Rory. "See, if you stay here, you can enjoy the continuing saga of Kirk and his sandwiches. No entertainment like this in New York, my friend."

"Sorry, but if I'm going to be submitting electronically for two months I have to spend some time actually at the paper right now."

"Fine. But you're still coming to Friday Night Dinner next week, right? I don't think I can face another night alone with my parents."

"Yes, I'll be there next week."

"Good."

"So, this may be a stupid question, but why exactly do we still come to Luke's every day? He could cook for you just as easily at home."

"Why do people always ask me this?" Lorelai said.

Rory looked out the window towards the town square as her mother continued her rant. She could practically hear Miss Patty counting beats for dance lessons, although she knew from a realistic standpoint that her hearing couldn't really be that good. The people in the square looked like they always had. The whole town was like a greeting card from a place that the card's receiver resents because no place could possibly that picturesque.

"Rory!" Taylor yelled, cutting across Lorelai's speech. "Just the girl I was hoping to see. I hear you'll be in town in December?"

Rory winced slightly. "Yes."

"Good!" He sat down at the table with them. "Now, I know that it's still a few months away, but you know what they say about planning ahead."

"What?"

"Well, um, that you should do it. Look, I was just hoping to have a word with you about this year's Winter Carnival. Now, you'll have some time to think about it, but what I wanted to know was whether you would be willing to be the Sugar Plum Fairy for my candy booth."

"Sugar Plum Fairy?"

"Yes."

Rory cast about for an excuse. "Well, Taylor, to be honest with you, I'm not really sure I'm the Sugar Plum Fairy type."

"Nonsense, of course you are! Why, I was just telling Miss Patty—"

"Taylor, I'm sorry, but I am not interested," Rory said firmly

Taylor looked as though he'd just been forced to suck a lemon. "Young lady, I hate to say this, but you are not the Rory Gilmore this town knew and loved! I thought maybe now that you've finished sowing your wild oats and settled down nearby, you'd start to participate again. I mean, after all the town has done for you—"

"Taylor," Lorelai said, waving wildly. "She's not interested. But if you want, I can hang a sign at the inn and see if there's anyone else who might want to."

Kirk turned from the counter. "Lulu can do it!"

"There you go," Lorelai said. "Ask Lulu to do it."

Taylor looked at her witheringly, then left the dinner without another word.

"I love making Taylor so mad he can't talk." Lorelai grinned, then looked at Rory's cup. "You're not drinking your coffee. In all the time I've known you, you have never once let a cup of coffee sit in front of you without drinking it."

"Well, I was on the road for a long time. Maybe I've switched to tea."

Lorelai gasped in mock horror. "You are not my child."

Her tone was lighthearted, but there was something like worry underneath it. Rory quickly lifted the mug to her mouth to take a sip. Luke's coffee, like everything else in the town, had remained exactly the same.

She could barely swallow it.

END OF CHAPTER NOTES:

-Foghat is a 1970s British rock band.

-The poem referenced is The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

-Paul Bunyan is the name of a giant lumberjack who appears in folk tales. Jess is, of course, using it in reference to Dean's height.

-Dan Savage is a well-known gay rights activist who has made many controversial statements about bisexuality. He has urged gay people to avoid relationships with bisexual people, and has said that bisexuality is usually just a phase on the way to identifying as gay or straight. (FFN won't let me hyperlink examples or I would).

-Buffy and Willow are characters on the 90s TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which can be found on Netflix instant (at least in the U.S.)

-Ross and Carol are characters on the 90s TV show Friends. I don't know where online you can find this.