Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters, names belong to the WB and Dorothy Parker Drank Here productions.  

Spoilers: None

Pairings: Probably R/J, L/L, you might see a little of other characters too.

Drizzle.

Thunder crashed and lightning flashed, and rain pattered noisily on the roof. Rory Gilmore huddled inside her blanket, shivering. It was so chilly. She grimaced – funny, it rarely rained in Star's Hollow. She cuddled up to her pillow and closed her eyes tight, her book still tucked in the crook of her arm. It was way too early on a Saturday morning for any Gilmore to be awake. She closed her eyes, and tried to fall back asleep but no – what was that flapping at her ears? Cold, wet – oh, geez.

Rory sat up in her bed, thoroughly peeved at being deprived of her sleep, and glared. Tousled dark brown hair and deep brown eyes stared back at her past the pumpkin-patterned curtains.

Her windows were wide open, and Jess was standing there.

Rory gave a yelp of surprise and hurriedly brushed a few strands of long brown hair away from her eyes.

"Jess Mariano – what in the name of…what the hell are you doing here?" Rory hoped she sounded furious.

Jess gave a nervous smile and gestured vaguely. "I came to return your book."

Rory noticed how wet and cold he too must be, standing there in the rain, his Tool t-shirt clinging to his skin. But hang on, just a second – "Jess, you came to return my book?" Rory's expression changed to one of incredulousness. She maneuvered herself around to look at the clock, tucking her legs under her. "It's three a.m. in the morning!"

"Yeah well. I was bored." He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." Rory acknowledged this with a slight tilt of her head, noting with embarrassment that her pajamas were covered from head to toe in cherry red tomatoes.

Jess shivered again, this time holding out a rain-soaked Dickens. "I'm sorry it's slightly wet." Rory stared down at the mangled wet mess. "I didn't know it was going to rain – " Jess tried to defend himself, shrugging apologetically – well, shrugging as best as one could while shivering to the bone. He tried to brush a few wet locks away from his forehead as Rory sat still on her bed, still silent, staring quietly back at him.

"Are you ever gonna ask me to come in? It's really lovely out here and everything but –" Rory shook her head slightly exasperatedly, a smile tugging at her lips. She crawled over to her window and gently kissed his cold, damp forehead. Jess looked mildly surprised, but pleased all the same – still, a little too envious of Rory's mostly warm and dry bedroom. She tugged at his sleeve and pulled him into her room.

"On the couch", she said with mock severity. Jess sat down, albeit bemusedly. "And be quiet. I mean, I know Mom was queen of sneaking boys into her room but…I mean, I think she's a little more accepting of you now that you're my - do you know what I mean?"  Jess laughed a little nervously and shifted himself to get a little more comfortable, leaving a wet orange patch where he previously had been.

"You're dripping," Rory commented dryly. "Hang on – and remember, any shuffling, moaning, croaking – any weird noises at all, and into the closet you go. Mom's cool and all but I don't think she'd understand." She tiptoed out of her room, looking around cautiously, and returned with a hamburger-patterned towel. "My mom," she explained as he cocked a curious eyebrow.

Jess stood up and took the towel as Rory relapsed back into thoughtful silence. She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs modestly, looking around herself warily. Jess paused. "Well, you know – my mind reading abilities aren't what they used to be. You're gonna have to give me a hand here." He smiled, looking at her nervously. Rory could still hear the rain crashing noisily. She hoped it would drown out any noise – she didn't like doing this, hiding from her mom. She made no reply. But she liked Jess. Jess was…Jess. Her mom just didn't understand.

Jess looked a little unsure. He tucked his hands into his pockets. "Hey, if you want me to go then I'll – " He took a small step back towards the window.

"So, did you like it?" Jess stopped dead in his tracks. "The book. Did you like the book?" Jess looked relieved, and sat down in the couch next to Rory – but not too close. He lowered his voice down to a soft whisper, just to be safe. You could never be too careful with Lorelai Gilmore, and to be frank, he was slightly scared of her, and what she could do between him and Rory. A little of his self-assured confidence seeped back into his tone. 

"Yeah." He looked at her. "I did." Rory smiled, relaxing slightly. "I really didn't expect to though, I mean. It's been a really long time since I've read a Dickens."

"Yeah, well, I didn't like him either the first time I read him. I tried Oliver Twist for the first time when I was eight."

"Eight? Whoa, Dickens at eight, Ayn Rand at ten, what next?" Rory laughed at Jess' incredulous expression.

"Yeah. I got past about 20 pages and stopped. I was bored stiff. I think he spent two pages describing a sign post."

"It's a great book, though."

"You got it, Dodger." Jess looked at her, to see if she still remembered. She did. He smiled in recollection of times gone by. Rory looked back at her now soaked Dickens, sitting on her bed. She picked it up and opened it to a random page, and frowned. She ran her finger along the margin, over words scrawled messily in pencil. The occasional remark, comment, a highlight or a random thought-of-the-day. She closed the book and rested her head on Jess' shoulder, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips. Jess drew her close to him, an arm around her slim shoulders, and grabbed another book lying on the table. He smiled when he saw the title.

"Howl, by Allen Ginsberg. You were reading this?" He looked at her slyly, but Rory didn't seem to have heard. He bent over and kissed her deeply, tenderly, and pretty darn passionately, eliciting a moan of surprise as he ran her tongue across her bottom lip.

The rain had quieted, almost to a drizzle. Jess pulled away slowly, slightly scared that Lorelai might come storming in any moment. Rory tried to keep contact, then sank back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. She yawned and sleepily gestured towards the book Jess was holding. "That's a good book."

Jess opened the book, flipping through, deeply engrossed, and noting some of the comments Rory herself had scrawled in in reply to his own. He was smiling, he realized. Rory pushed herself into a more comfortable position, leaning against him, falling asleep.

The rain had almost stopped, you could barely hear the occasional drip of water on the porch. The air smelt of wet grass, flowers, and dew. The window was still open.

It was four a.m. on a Saturday morning.