Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. It's someone else's problem.

A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for the encouragement. I'm so glad you liked the first chapter, so I hope I don't disappoint with the next. I apologize for the delay of this chapter. I was in the middle of my finals, and as a pre-med student, I was going up the walls, freaking out, so yeah... but this helps calm me a bit, so that's why I do them. I'll try to update sooner. As always, read, review and enjoy!

Was it possible for Paris to chew any louder? It was unnerving, the way her mouth seemed to slack as the corn flakes reached the brim of her lips. There wasn't any logical reason for Rory to even regard this as a distraction, but as her stomach made another howl in protest of malnutrition, she could only lay her head on the wooden table in a feeble attempt of surrendering.

Paris rolled her eyes in exasperation. “What's going on with your body? Are you dying or something?”

Rory shook her head against the table, not caring how juvenile the scene looked. “I'm trying to hold out until the administration building opens at nine.” She raised her head, growling at Paris' fresh coffee. “When do we start getting up this early, anyway?”

“We always get up at seven. And it's only eight, same as always. What's your problem, Gilmore?”

“Lost ID. Can't eat. Will die.”

“And apparently lost some vocabulary in the mix. Why don't you get something from down the street? You know... there's other places to eat off campus.”

“My stomach hurts so bad if I drive somewhere, I might run myself off the road from the pain and die in a fiery car crash.” She accompanied the image with a shudder. “Gruesome car crash. I'm a bleeder.”

Paris passed over her toast. “Oh, for Pete's sake, here. Your vial attitude is tainting my appetite.”

“Bless you.” Rory gorged at the bread, munched with vengeance. “This is the best toast ever.”

“Would you relax? It's been like six hours since you last ate.” Paris spooned another mouthful of cereal, before pushing it across the table to Rory. “Look, I have an appointment with my advisor or that internship in Seattle, so if you want to meet for lunch...” She watched on as Rory continued at the leftover cereal, not missing any fragments. “Yeah, I'll meet you later for lunch.” She left the table in a huff, pushing aside a defenseless freshmen in her path.

Rory slurped down the remaining milk, wiping her mouth. “Yikes.” She checked her watch, another forty minutes to go and counting. She hated having to go to the administration building, dealing with Lutz, the “ID Nazi” as she called him, answering a questionnaire she was more than certain was of his own creation. It was just another thing mounting on her shoulders as the clock ticked down to her final which was at nine thirty. Gathering her belongings to leave, she figured waiting in front of the building would save her precious minutes.

He didn't want to admit that he liked walking these grounds during the day. It wasn't as if he seemed to blend in with the argyle knit sweaters and penny loafer'ed students that dominated the luscious terrain, but in his mind's eye, he could escape for a few moments in the extreme thought of being one of them, if only for a little while. As always, the dream would fade and it would be replaced with the harsh reality of being a penniless custodian with floundered dreams and no real chance with pretty girls with perfect blue eyes.

The shift had twenty minutes left and he was finished early. So as he walked around in his plain clothes, out of the ridiculous uniform that branded his namesake, and simply lounge for a bit under an old oak and read. He did it every other Wednesday, not to make it a habit or have the faculty thinking him of loitering. There wasn't nice trees like this back at home, where if you sit on the ground, the chances of getting a disease rose dramatically. So, he took a seat and basked in the mid-November sun, grateful to have a few moments to pretend. And it was then that she made her cue.

She breezed past, not aware of her reverence to the other young suitors that watched her walk by. She seemed determined, not present at all, Jess figuring this was one of her characteristics. He still had her ID, figuring he would put in the mailbox before he left campus, but than again, it would have been a great way to talk to her, figuring she wouldn't fall asleep in the library again. With his luck, he probably scared her so badly, making her think he was a stalker the way he insisted on walking her across the quad. He shook his head, bewildered by the effect she had on him, after only one chance meeting. She was just a girl, a very pretty one though. But this wasn't like him. He didn't pursue these girls. They were all off-limits, out of his league. He wasn't supposed to even be here now. He was a janitor. What girl in her right mind would even bother with a guy like him?

Frustrated beyond his own comprehension, he bolted up, walking toward her as she sat on a bench by the entrance of the administration building, the building he just cleaned the toilets of not an hour before. Oh yeah, he had a show with her. He pulled out the ID from his wallet, shoving it in her face. “Here.”

Rory looked up from her book, startled from the blinding light that shone the crown of the man in front of her. “Huh?”

“You dropped this last night. Figured you might want this back.” He dug his hands back in his pockets, preparing to turn away. “See ya around.”

Rory jumped up, flinging her arms around him. “Oh, my gosh. Thank you!” She held him a moment longer before realizing that she shouldn't have reacted like that. She chuckled as she pulled away, seeing his stunned expression. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling her eyes. “I mean, thank you. I tore my entire apartment looking for this thing.” She placed it properly in her waller, swinging her bag on her back. She tried to compose herself, thinking he looked tired, noticing his brown eyes had bags beneath them. “Um... how are you?”

Jess blinked a few times before he answered the question. “Ah... fine, I guess.” They stood silent for a moment or two, awkwardness clinging to the wind. “So yeah... I'll see you around.”

Rory nodded. “Yeah, see ya.” She bit her lip, watching him walk faster toward the staff parking lot on the west end of the campus. She sighed, wanting to follow him, but she had an exam in a half hour and she still needed to brush up on the last four units. “Crap.”

The drive home seemed longer than usual. Bridgeport was only 40 minutes from New Haven, but today, it felt further. It made sense, he reflected. He was as far away from the ivory towers as one could possibly be, only being able to step foot on the property because he agreed to clean after them for minimum wage. He drove down his street, the broken remains of an industrial town in is heyday, leaving behind the rubble, only made him feel that distant.

He noticed Rick's car in the driveway, parked haphazardly as always. He would never understand how he ever gotten his driver's license. As if called, Rick popped his head out of the front door. “Hey man.”

“Hey.” Jess walked into the house, heading toward his room, not wanting anything more than a few hours rest, desperate to erase the previous night's events.

Rory got out of the classroom, relieved that one of four finals were over. She had her others after the Thanksgiving break, but she could rest easier knowing her most difficult class was over forever, never having to darken the doorway again. With the holiday rapidly approaching, the urge to drive home was become more severe. She hadn't had the chance to make the drive long enough to pull herself away from her studies, neglecting her beloved Stars Hollow, and with the stress dwindling slightly, the guilt reared its ugly head, regretting it immensely. She dialed her mother, a small smile on her lips. “Hey.”

“Hey kiddo.” Lorelai Gilmore chuckled over the phone. “So, how was the first one?”

“Not too bad. I mean, I figured if I got through Mikhail Lomonosov okay, I'd be aces by the time I hit Alexander Radishchev.”

“Oh yeah, once you get Lomonosov, everything else is downhill.” They both giggled, causing Rory's stomach to hurt. “So, when are you coming on Wednesday? 'Cause Sookie is planning on making you this huge dinner. Oops! Was I supposed to say that?”

“Sookie's cooking Thanksgiving?” Rory's mouth practically watered at the image of stuffed turkey and every side dish that could possibly fit on the table.

“Yes and the surprise party for you, but don't tell her I told you. It's supposed to be a surprise.”

“Who told you? Everybody knows you can't keep a secret.” Rory opened the door to her dorm, relieved that Paris was still away. She plopped on the couch, thankful to have daytime television. “So, how's everyone?”

“Well, Jackson is freaking out as usual over the plans for your surprise dinner, trying his best to stir his cousins from the scene. He's the one who told me about the party. I guess for my own protection.”

“Figures. He must not have been in his right mind, naturally.”

“Naturally.” Lorelai chuckled again. “Anyway, Luke's fine and everyone's figured that you have abandoned us out here. Some people are forgetting what you look like.”

Rory rolled her eyes, feeling her stomach squirm. “I've wanted to come out, but I've been so busy.”

“I know, sweetie. It's just Babette has been wound up more than usual. I think they just miss you.”

Rory eyed the clock, seeing she had another hour before her staff meeting in the newsroom. “I'll see you for Friday night dinner, right?”

There was a pause on the other line. “Luke wants to make another care package for you, plenty of coffee canisters.”

“You're coming, aren't you? You can't bail this week, please! Grandma made me watch this really weird slid show from one of her DAR meetings. She wanted me to imitate their posture. Something about me getting hunchback from all the classes I've taken this year.” She absentmindedly touched her back.

“So I should disregard that application I saw in your room for 'bell tower security'?” Lorelai chuckled. “I'll be there. That's where I'm planning on ambushing you and dragging you home for the weekend.”

“I can't. I have to head back to New Haven that night since I have a big meeting with the paper, and another one in a little while, since we have a short week next week, I had to push everything back a few days in order to get the paper out.”

“Alright, well, how about Paris? Is she--”

“She's going to New York to have Thanksgiving with Doyle. They've been planning it for weeks.”

“Oh good. Okay, than. I guess I better let you go before Michel has a seizure. Oh, he gets those now.”

“Be sure to grab his tongue.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. That's what they always say on Ben Casey. I guess something about swallowing their tongues is an issue.”

“That might an improvement. Love you.”

“You too.” She hung up, feeling the need to call, just to hear her voice. She needed a distraction, but what?

Jess walked down the stairs of the small house he shared with three other people. One was his best friend, the closet thing he had to a brother, Michael. They grew up together in New York, but when Michael got a good job at the local power plant near his father, he invited Jess to come along. Jess worked at the plant all of four hours after setting off a reactor. Despite his nonchalant attitude and lack of mechanical skills, the two were think as thieves. And there was Rick, who was a friend from around, knowing both Jess and Michael. He moved in when his landlord burned his apartment to the ground seven months ago, bringing his high-maintenance girlfriend. It wasn't much, he knew, but there was something about having the four walls around him that made his piece of shit house a home. He rummaged through the refrigerator. “Who drank the last of the milk?”

Rick walked through the kitchen, not bothering to bathe Jess took notice. “Sorry, bro. Jeanine wanted some cereal this morning.”

“Nice.” Jess shock his head, slamming the door again as he walked into the back room, disregarding Rick's apologies. Seeing Michael watching television, he joined him on the couch. “Hey.”

Michael looked from the television, smiling. “Hey man. I thought you'd be sleep until later.”

“Couldn't sleep.” He rubbed his eyes, blinking at the screen. “What's this?”

“Dunno. I thought I recognized someone but I was wrong.” He switched it off, turning to Jess. “So, what's up?”

“I think I need to call my mom.” Jess stretched his arms over his head. “It's been a few weeks. You know how she gets.”

Michael nodded sympathetically. “Is she still with the yahoo, Bert or something?”

“TJ and yes.” She shook his head. “He's good for her though. She's... grounded now.”

“Yeah.” Michael walked across the room, looking out the window. “Are you gonna head over to Mr. Douchebag's with Rick and me?”

“Sam's having another party?”

“Yeah. Supposed to be a real rager.” He rose his eyebrows, causing Jess to chuckle. “So, you up for it?”

“Work. Bunch of people out sick, but I could use the extra money, so...”

“That's cool. Most likely gonna be lame anyway.” He patted Jess on the back, walking out to leave. “But maybe we can hang tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good.” Jess smirked slightly as Michael left. He was the only person to get more than three words out of him at a time. He could hear Rick upstairs singing offkey in the shower, regretting that he had to go to work on his night off. “Dammit.”

Rory rushed past a group of students hanging in front of the English Department, trying to make the meeting that she made for her staff on time. Making it with three minutes to spare, she threw down her coat and bag before everyone started piling in. “Hey everyone.”

A few people said welcomes, but there seemed to a collective tension in the air. “Okay, so I needed to get everyone's reports in, if you haven't already. We need next week's edition out by Monday instead of Wednesday since Thanksgiving is next week. So, if you have any objections or conflicting issues...” Several hands rose. “Yes, James?”

“I have three finals on Mondays, two of which I have to get no less than a 98.3% in order to remain at my 3.8 GPA.”

Rory nodded. “Okay, I understand that it's kinda overwhelming but--”

“I'll do it!” Paris hand rose so quickly, she nearly gave James who stood next to her whiplash. “I can handle it.” She leaned away from James whispering, “Seeing as certain people can't keep it together during finals.”

“Hey!” Rory rolled her eyes. “Look, I know that it's stressful right now. But like everyone else, we've made a commitment to this paper, so try your best to get in your articles. By Friday.”

An uproar of protest erupted, attacking Rory with a ravenous bite. Another student tossed his article on the table in front of Rory.” Finished mine last night.”

“Thank you, Neil.” She put it off to the side, hoping everyone would settle down. “You still have two days to get your articles in. I'm willing to extend it to Saturday's meeting, but I'd prefer if you can get in by Friday, we can concentrate on--”

“Could I turn mine in on Saturday?” James looked green in the face, apparently still nervous from Paris' comment.

“See me this evening and we'll talk about.” Rory checked her watch, seeing she had about fifteen minutes to get to her next class. “Okay, I'll be available all this week here until 10:30pm for anyone who needs assistance or wants to talk to me about an extension. And if you see me in the hall, don't turn them into me than. I'll lost them. Just head over here.” She smiled again, struggling the frown that seemed to compose her as looked on her disgruntled staff. “Okay, I think that's it for now so I'll see you guys tomorrow.” She released them, a few others handing her printouts.

Paris walked up to meet her in the front. “You seem tense. Is everything okay?”

“I'm fine, Paris. She collected the rest of the papers, putting them in a folder on her desk and racing toward the door.”

“Yeah, me and Doyle took this yoga class over at Hiller. It's really great. I mean, our sex hasn't been this great since---”

“Okay, I really have to get to class.” Rory nearly broke into a sprint as she tried to keep Paris and Doyle's sex life at a great distance.

Jess heard Rick and Michael leave as he walked around his bedroom, feeling restless. He had tried to go back to sleep, but he only seemed to go in circles in his mind, making him nauseous. He figured a walk would do him good, but the neighborhood nearly made him more nauseous. He looked at his watch, it only being nine thirty, he figured he could drive around a bit before work.

As he drove down the streets, he had the fleeting thought of going to New York. He hadn't been there in months, taking an impromptu trip up with Michael to see a friend for their birthday. When they first moved out here, they were in New York every weekend for some party or whatever excuse they could find to be amongst the bright lights the city held. He missed being able to get a slice of pizza at 2 in the morning or walking down the street and seeing another thousand people from all directions. But going now, he'd missed work and he couldn't afford to get fired. So, he settled further in his seat as the next exit revealed New Haven.

Working at Yale was a mixed blessing. He applied for the job through a random connection, Steven. He knew Rick, and he put in a good word for him. As far as a paycheck, it was as much as Michael and Rick made at the plant when they first started off, so Jess had no complaints. He picked up shifts at the local tavern from time to time to help pay the bills, but the only redeeming factor for working at Yale was the access to the library. He would finish whole books in days, cleaning a floor here, reading twenty pages there. And if he played his cards right, the night librarian, Ruth, who held a sweet spot for him reserved a few choice books for him. But than the downside, he was around punkass socialites, catering to their puke residue or ill-fated keg parties that would spread on campus like last week when Sigma Nu decided to tepee several trees or when they set off a fire in the faculty parking lot. Yeah, most of the time, the cons out weighted the pros. He mostly struggled with the fact that no matter how much smarter he might have been than half of the morons that attended the school, there was very little he could do about it.

Rory walked back from the newsroom, enjoying the quiet from the buildings. She had received all but four articles for the next week's paper, relieved that everyone was taking the initiative with their work, pulling together. He just had to pull Paris away from a freshmen reporter after she cried in Rory's arms about her finals in Organic Chemistry and how she thought she might flunk out. Sometimes she felt more like a counselor than an editor, but she always felt a swell of pride whenever she saw her staff pull it together for every issue. She just needed a vacation from it for a while, the hunger to return to Stars Hallow only increasing. It was than that she saw a familiar figure on the north side of the quad. “Hey.” The figure looked in her direction, seemingly tense as she approached him. Just before she was upon him, she cracked a smile, recognizing Jess' stiff demeanor. “We should really stop meeting like this.”

Jess shrugged. “Maybe.” Something about the way the moon hit her chestnut locks made him feel a bit more bold, wanting to smooth them down. “Do you always walk alone at night?”

“I thought the night cleaning crew didn't come in for a few more hours.” She instantly wanted to take back those words, sounding like a heartless, spoiled child. She noticed his standoffish reaction, quickly trying to recover. “I mean, it's nice seeing you again. I thought I would have to be out later to see you.” She chastised herself again, wondering why she was being so moronic. “I mean--”

“No, it's just I thought I'd come in early.” He pulled a book from his back pocket. “Get some reading down. I figured since it was late, no one would be around.” He looked her up and down. “Sane, at least.”

Rory chuckled. “I deserved that.” She fidgeted slightly under his watchful eye, as if he was scrutinizing her every move.

Jess chuckled silently to himself, enjoying her uncomfortable mannerisms. “Were you about to--”

“Oh, I was about to--” They both chuckled. “I was gonna get a cup of coffee, since I need to go over some more articles for the paper.”

“Oh, you're on the paper?”

“I'm the editor.” There was a pride that seemed to glow under the dim lights the stars provided, making her nearly flawless. “Do you read it?”

“Not really.” He watched her features flicker with disappointment, considering another motive. “But I could help you out, you know... the editing part.”

Rory considered it. “When does your shift start?”

He checked his watch exaggeratedly. “In two hours.”

Rory nodded. “Cool. So, um... I was thinking of going to this place down the street. Cooper's.”

Jess knew the place more for its poetry sets on the weekends he caught a few times on a whim. It wasn't the usual place that he found Yale students. “Yeah, I know the place.”

“Yeah, it's the only coffee place that's open past nine.” She hitched up her bag, turning and walking. “Come on.”

Jess followed her, not exactly sure why he had allowed her to convince him into this, but remembering he had suggested it. He felt slightly apprehensive sudden shift in personality, letting down his guard around a girl her barely knew. And he was also intrigued that she didn't seem offended by his occupation, figuring she had her choice through the more thoroughbred elite. Once they had gotten to the shop, Rory chose a table near the back, catching Jess curious look. “What?”

“Do you normally hang out with the cleaning crew?”

Rory shrugged off her coat, smirking. “No, but than again, the cleaning crew doesn't read Faulkner.” She chuckled. “I saw you holding Light in August this morning. So yeah, I figured you were at least moderately intelligent.” As he sat across from her, she shuffled through some papers. “Okay, you can look over these.”

Jess looked at the topic line, Economic Parish. “Yikes.”

“It's okay. Consider it 'light reading'.” She continued to read on, handing him a red marker. “Have fun.”

He looked over at her for another moment, memorized by the predicament he found himself in. “Oh yeah... fun.”

Sorry again for the wait. Will have more chapters up sooner, promise. --- MrsBigTuna