Headcanon #2 (Post-Revival)
Not feeling well, Rory goes home after Luke & Lorelai’s wedding. A while later, the doorbell rings and she finds Jess at her doorstep…
Rory rubbed her eyes and blinked at Jess with a box full of Luke’s Diner food in his arms and an insolent grin on his face. The entire situation was surreal, like a scene straight out of the past. “Excuse me, have I stumbled back into 2001?” she asked.
Without waiting for an invitation, Jess entered the house and headed straight for the living room, setting the box on the coffee table. Rory followed him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. “What are you doing here?”
“They sent me to bring you sustenance,” Jess said.
“That’s what you said back then too,” she pointed out. “But, as it turned out, you were only using that as an excuse to come see me.”
He flashed her a grin over his shoulder. “This time it’s the truth. Sort of. Your mom asked me to come over and bring you food. She thought you might be hungry.”
“My mom?” Rory asked incredulously. “My mother, Lorelai Gilmore, asked you to come to her house and bring her daughter food? Alone? With her daughter? My mom?”
He shrugged, unperturbed. “Lorelai Gilmore didn’t, but Lorelai Danes did. What can I say? People change when they get married.” He sat down on the couch and started unpacking the sacks, taking out container after container of food.
Rory’s stomach grumbled at the sight of the feast. Jess had brought practically everything from the diner—hamburgers, mac and cheese, sandwiches. She might have even spied some donuts in there. “There’s enough here to feed—”
“Twelve people,” he said with a nod. “But I’ve seen you eat.”
“Fine. Six.” She stood back, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Just deja vu,” she said.
He looked her over, his eyes catching on her pajamas. “If it helps, you look sixteen again.”
She looked down at her clothes, hoping her cheeks weren’t turning red. Here she was, a thirty-two year old Yale graduate who still wore pajamas from high school. Well, at least she still fit in them. For the next few months, anyway.
She sat beside him and opened a container full of french fries then held it out to Jess. He took two and stuffed both in his mouth.
Rory looked over the spread, trying to decide what her stomach wanted more. She picked the burger but as soon as she opened the lid, she got a whiff of the red onion and dropped it back onto the table. She went for the mac and cheese instead but found the flavor of the cheese off-putting. She tried something else but that too didn’t seem to agree with her taste buds. All the while Jess chewed quietly, watching her play food whack-a-mole.
“Stomach still bothering you?” he asked after some time. “You’ve never had a problem eating before. Usually you start at one end and hoover your way through.”
Rory let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. I feel like I’m having a bit of an identity crisis.”
He looked through the sacks and pulled out one more container. “How about this?” he asked and handed it over.
Her nose wrinkled. “What is it? It’s just leaves and more leaves and some other stuff.”
“I think it’s called a salad.”
“Is it a palate cleanser, like when dogs eat grass when they have an upset stomach?” she asked with a teasing glint in her eyes.
He shook his head and handed over a plastic fork. “Just try it.”
Eventually she accepted the container, opening it and giving the contents a careful sniff. Nothing. Her stomach didn’t want to turn inside out. In fact, the sight of the tomatoes and boiled egg looked downright appetizing, which had never, ever happened before.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” he said, watching as she dug into the salad. “Miracles do happen.”
She nudged him with her arm. “Shut up. Identity crisis, remember?”
He grabbed the remote control then leaned back and set the sandwich container in his lap. “Want to watch a movie?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“Yes.” He motioned to the fork full of lettuce that was making its way to her mouth. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Rory let him choose the movie, a detail that didn’t escape Jess. In the past she’d always had strong opinions about what they watched, but tonight it seemed as if all her opinions had been watered down. So he chose Mad Max—the most obnoxious guy movie he could find—and sat back, waiting until the inevitable diatribe about the portrayal of women as objects.
But none came. She simply sat there, munching on her salad (a salad!), and watched the movie with unfocused eyes. Finally, after a while, he turned off the television.
“What I’d like to know is,” he began, putting the empty containers away and turning to face her. “Who are you and what have you done to the real Rory?”
She blinked at him for a few seconds, as if having difficulty focusing. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut.
“Are you having a stroke?” he asked in alarm.
“No,” she said, and finally he saw a little spark return to her blue eyes. “No. I’m just a little dazed.”
He let out a relieved breath. “What’s eating at you? Are you still down about being unemployed?” he asked. “Because if you are, I can give you a job at Truncheon. It won’t pay much, and you’ll probably have to move to Philly, but it’s something.”
“No, no. Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t move to Philadelphia. I can’t leave The Gazette right now. It’ll shut down and Esther and Charlie will be without jobs.” She paused. “On second thought, they’d probably just keep showing up anyway.”
He leaned forward, his eyebrow raised. “Well?”
“I was just thinking about my book.”
“I’m… stuck.” She chewed on her bottom lip then stood up, shuffling out of the room. She came back several moments later, holding a sheaf of paper in her hands. “Here are the first three chapters,” she said, setting it on his lap. “Maybe you can figure out what’s keeping me from moving on.”
He stared at the title page where “The” had been crossed out, leaving only “Gilmore Girls” as the title. “You want me to read it?”
“Read it. Critique it. Be honest and blunt. Please.”
“I can’t think of anyone more qualified. You own a print company, you write books, you’re a multiple New York Times Bestseller.”
He narrowed his eyes, taken by surprise. “You know?”
She cocked her head. “Come on, J.M. Dodger. You think a little pen name can stop me? I’d be a terrible journalist if I couldn’t even figure that out.”
He let out a breath. Here he was under the impression he had been flying under the radar all along. “Did you..?”
“Yeah. Every single one,” she said with that familiar Rory smile, the one filled with excitement at the prospect of reading a new book. “You, my friend, are a bona fide author. And have a bit of a cult following, might I add.”
He sat back with a sigh. “Nah.”
“I believe you’ve been hailed as the next Dave Eggers.”
He looked away, feeling the heat creep up his neck. “This is exactly why I never told you.”
She looked genuinely confused. And maybe a little hurt. “Because I’d be proud?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “I own all of your books, in paperback, hardcover, and digital. All these years, I’ve been your personal cheering squad.”
He stared at her, overcome with the need to lunge forward and kiss that smile off her face. He didn’t think he’d ever loved her more than in that moment, with her messy hair and old pajamas and unfailing faith in him.
“So, I figured out the J.M., but why Dodger?”
He winked. “Figure it out.”
Her eyes flew over his face a few moments before he saw the flash of recognition. “Oliver Twist,” she said with a nod.
“How could I? You stole my book the first night we met, then returned it to me later with notes written all over it,” she said. “You’re a book vandal.”
He grinned, unable to tear his eyes from her face. “It’s because of you, you know,” he began in a soft voice. “I don’t know where I’d be right now if you weren’t around to push me to be better.”
She looked at him with warm eyes and, for the first time, he felt some hope. Maybe there was still some love there, after all. “But you did it. You did all the work. And look where you are now.”
He glanced down at the manuscript on his lap. “Time to return the favor.” He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and flipped to the first page.
“Wait, right now?” Rory asked in a high-pitched voice. “I thought you were leaving tonight?”
He shook his head, a little amused by the sheer panic in her eyes. “I’m staying.”
“As long as you need me.”
Rory sat next to him as he read, looking over his shoulder and generally driving him crazy. But it was good to see this spunky Rory again, so full of ideas and spark. But eventually, she quietened down and seemed content to watch him read. Before long, he felt her leaning into his arm, her cheek resting on his shoulder. He didn’t move a muscle, enjoying the warm weight of her against him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t concentrate on the words before him. How could he, when her lavender peppermint scent kept drifting up to his nose?
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But I’ve read the same sentence three times.” When she didn’t respond, he looked down and realized she had fallen asleep.
He shook his head, unable to keep the wry smile off his face. He brushed wayward strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to the top of her head for a long, sublime moment.
After, he turned back to the novel and was finally able to give it his full attention.
Well, at least half anyway.
Time After Time (A GG Fanfic) on Wattpad.com
