Disclaimer: I own no part of anything represented here. Darn. It all belongs to the WB and to Amy Sherman-Palladino

RORY: But if you get behind, I can help you catch up.

JESS: Got it covered.

RORY: If you say so.

JESS: I do.

RORY: Okay.

JESS: So how 'bout you come out?

oooooooooo

"Out?" she asked, incredulous. He should know by now that Rory Gilmore wasn't one for late night sojourns, especially when escaping from under the ever watchful eye of Mama Kim.

"Yeah, out."

"But it's…" she trailed off, looking at her watch, hoping that the time would be on her side.

"It's 10:00, Rory," he stated. "I can see books in there, but I can't imagine you actually feel like doing work right now."

"No, but…" she turned and looked at Lane, desperate for help.

"Go!" Lane urged. "You had a sucky day, had to play sock puppets with kids. Rory, you hate kids!" Rory shrugged. "Go! If Mama comes back downstairs, I'll just tell her that you got freaked out and went back to Lorelai." Rory looked doubtful. "I'm a pro at this, remember? I got the boy I love to play guitar in front of my entire family by posting a fake ad! And anyway, Mama's usually asleep by 10:15, 10:30 at the latest. I'll leave the window open and you can just sneak back in here later."

"See," Jess smirked, "Lane wants you to come out with me and Lane doesn't even like me all that much." Lane nodded emphatically.

"Oh, fine! Wait there and I'll be out in a few minutes." Jess just raised his eyebrows triumphantly.

Rory turned away from the window again and pulled the shade down. She took off the comfortable sweats she had been wearing and put her jeans back on. She remembered that the black bra she wore would be clearly visible through her thin shirt, but decided against changing either. After a quick hug and a "thanks" for Lane, Rory put her shoes and coat on, grabbed her wallet and her phone and headed out the window. She managed to make it from inside to outside with little noise and walked over to Jess, who was sitting under a tree a few feet away.

"Hi," she said, shyly. She wasn't used to doing this kind of thing, but he and Lane were both right. It had been a sucky day indeed and homework was not something she wanted to think about at the moment.

"Hi yourself," he answered. He stood up and placed a soft kiss on her temple. "How ya doin'?"

"Well, I can honestly say that I've been better. Today is not something I want to repeat, ever. I mean, being woken up so early in the morning, that was bad enough and then having to wake my mom up and playing babysitter and the college thing and—"

"Rory."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Hmm?"

He sighed, and took her hand in his. "C'mon."

She followed like an obedient child, intermittently squeezing his hand when she felt the ramblings rising up within her again. She didn't want to sound like a bumbling idiot but that was how she was feeling at the moment. She didn't want to fight so she figured being quiet was the best thing. He seemed to understand, though, and squeezed her hand back.

When they reached Luke's, Jess pulled out his key and opened the door. The diner was warm and smelled like fried food and sugar. Rory felt odd being there at first but then she remembered that Luke hadn't closed up all that long ago and that Jess had a key so it wasn't as if they were breaking in so she plopped down on a stool at the counter. She felt nervous and hot and cold all at once and prayed that Jess wouldn't notice. She didn't want to admit to herself that she was still partly terrified of him and how he made her feel. Of course she had wanted to come out when he had first asked her. She felt like she would probably do anything he asked of her, barring it wasn't ridiculously illegal or painful. And tonight there was no one to stop them. No Lorelai poking around, a go-ahead from Lane, a miserable day that warranted an escape.

"Rory?" she was jolted back to reality at the sound of his voice. She didn't know how long she had been sitting by herself but she figured about 10 minutes. She hadn't even noticed that Jess had gone into the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"C'mere!"

She slid off the stool and entered the kitchen to find him making hot chocolate on the stove.

"Oh, that smells good," she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the smell. He made the best hot chocolate she had ever had and that included Luke's.

"There's marshmallows over there," he said, gesturing to the island. "I know you like a lot and I don't want to fuck up your marshmallow amount so I'm just going to let you handle it yourself. Do me a favor and keep stirring this?"

"Huh? Oh." She took the wooden spoon from him. "Where are you going?"

"Upstairs for a second. I'm coming back."

She nodded and began stirring the chocolate.

oooooooooo

She was still stirring when he reappeared a short while later, his backpack slung over one shoulder and holding a pile of blankets. He pulled out two silver thermoses from somewhere in the pile and set them on the counter.

"You can stop," he said, smirking.

"Oh. Okay. I hope I didn't over stir?"

He laughed, actually laughed. "No such thing, I promise."

She just nodded. Her crazy emotions from earlier had subsided and now she appeared strangely docile and almost numb. Not that he would admit it to anyone, but the uncharacteristic behavior unnerved him.

"Your mom's here."

"What?"

"Upstairs."

"Oh my God, she's not--"

He shook his head. "Nope. Luke's on the couch, not that it's any different from that sad excuse for a bed that he sleeps in."

"Your bed's the same size."

"Yeah but Luke's a grown man and he's got a couple of inches on me. I don't know how he stands it."

"Awww, you care!"

He quickly changed the subject. "I figured you'd be more shocked that your mom was here."

"Oh…well, she called me a little before you showed up. Called herself a nomad. Another family showed up at our house and she couldn't exactly turn them away after she'd offered a place to stay."

"But she came here, Rory."

"Where else would she go? Almost everyone in town has Independence Inn refugees staying with them tonight and we all know that Luke won't exactly turn her down."

"Nope," he smirked again. Of course Lorelai would go to Luke's. Hell, Lorelai would probably go to him even if there were other choices.

"Jess, stop smirking like that! I don't really want to think about the fact that my mother could come down here and berate me for sneaking out of the Kims' to be with you."

"Sorry. Okay, we're getting out of here in a second."

"Where are we going?"

"Out."

" 'Out' where?"

"Gazebo."

"In case you haven't noticed, the conditions outside aren't exactly what you'd call tropical."

"I know that, smarty. Hence, the blankets and the hot chocolate. See that drawer over there? There's a funnel in there that's crucial to our leaving. There's cookies in the pantry too, probably."

"No thanks. I'm not really hungry."

"Huh. Isn't that unusual for a Gilmore girl?"

"Jess…," she said, almost pleading.

"Okay."

oooooooooo

Rory and Jess walked towards the gazebo, holding blankets and thermoses full of steaming hot chocolate. When they reached their destination, Jess spread one blanket on the bench and handed Rory one to wrap around herself. He did the same with the third one. From his backpack, he retrieved what looked like one of Luke's fancy, industrial strength flashlights.

"You okay?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

"Fine," she said a little too quickly. "So what are we doing out here anyway?"

"Pick one." He gestured to two books that she hadn't noticed him leaving the diner with. One was The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby and the other was On the Road.

"Wolfe," she said, expecting him to hand it to her and then pick up the Kerouac. Instead, he picked up the Tom Wolfe, took a sip of hot chocolate, wrapped his arms around her and opened the book.

"You hold the light, okay?" he handed it to her.

"What are we doing here?" she asked softly, readying herself for a sarcastic comment.

"I'm reading to you," he answered matter-of-factly, surprising her.

"Oh."

"Big vocabulary you've got tonight, huh?" he nudged her playfully. She just snuggled into him more and chose not to respond. Now he was a little more than slightly unnerved. She wasn't hungry, hadn't touched the hot chocolate he knew she loved and gave one word answers. He closed the book abruptly and set it down next to her.

"What's your deal, Rory?"

"My deal?"

He pulled away from her slightly so he could look her in the eye. She looked away, afraid to meet his intense gaze. He took her face in his hands and forced her to look back.

"I'm just…tired, I guess." She pulled his hands away and took them in her own. He squeezed tightly, willing her to say more. Ordinarily, he wasn't one for talking about feelings but as far as he was concerned, Rory's current behavior required drastic measures.

"Oh." He kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, then. I shouldn't have made you come out. You want to just go back to Lane's?" She shook her head, no.

"Then what? Rory, I get that you're upset about the inn and that you're stressed out, but you're acting like someone died. And don't tell me it's like the inn died 'cause Luke told me your mom said the place wasn't completely totaled."

She sighed heavily. "Read to me, please? It'll probably make me feel better."

He nodded, not wanting to upset her further by pressing the issue. He resumed his previous position, holding her tight. Rory listened intently to Jess read about custom cars, Las Vegas and hippie sons in his beautiful, slightly raspy voice. She didn't even try to follow along or read his marginal notes; she closed her eyes and tried to visualize the words. She pictured the titular car in her head, pictured herself driving it out in California, land of permanent sunshine. It seemed a much better place to be than the cold East coast. She imagined herself driving away from the college pro/con lists and from the wreckage of the inn. Even though she knew that everyone had gotten out alright and that the damage probably wouldn't be incredibly terrible, she still imagined driving away from a smoldering building and ambulance sirens.

As Jess read the essay about unemployed society wives, Rory finally figured out why she was so upset. She'd spent nearly half of her life at the Independence Inn; it was her first home, a home when no one else wanted her and her mother. Though the inn wasn't gone, Rory felt like a small part of her had vanished. The inn would be rebuilt but it wouldn't be the same. She figured she was being foolish, thinking the way that she was, but the inn had been precious to her. The potting shed itself would still be there, with its flowered wallpaper and fancy bathtub, but the inn itself was marred forever.

"That's a good line, isn't it?" Jess asked, trying to see if she had been paying attention. He had a feeling she'd been zoned out for a while.

"Huh? Oh, yes. It's definitely good. Very good language."

He put the book down again and tipped her face up to meet his own. "Do you even know what I'm reading about?" his voice was soft.

"Wives," she said simply.

"This is bullshit. You're not even with me."

"But you are reading about wives!" she protested. "At least, you were."

"You're not alright," he stated. "Nowhere near it."

She shook her head, no, again and broke out of his embrace. She decided that she didn't care how much he frightened her. At that moment she wanted comfort and she knew he could give it to her. Shocking him, she swung one leg over the both of his so she was kneeling on his lap, straddling him. He wrapped her blanket back around her, rubbing her shoulders vigorously. She moved forward, not saying anything about the obvious erection she felt, and buried her head in the crook of his neck, against rough denim and soft sweatshirt. She wrapped her arms around him, under the blanket, and clung tightly.

"Oh," he said. He moved his arms around her slim frame and held her just as hard. All he got in response was a sniffle. Great. She was crying. He didn't know her to be a crier; he knew her to be strong and sturdy. A million thoughts were running through his mind, of things he could say, could possibly ask. Wisely, he figured he shouldn't say anything, and slowly began to rub small circles on her back. He got another sniffle in response.

oooooooooo

Ten minutes later, he was absentmindedly humming Clash songs under his breath and rubbing her back in short intervals. He hadn't heard anything out of her, save for an occasional sniffle and some little shivers.

"Rory," he almost whispered. "You about done?" Sniffle. He sighed and started to hum "Remote Control" for the third time. After the first verse, he decided to try his hand at the talking thing again. "Rory," he started. "Rory, whatever's wrong can't be that bad. No one's dead. This damn town worships you…no one is going to let you suffer and you know that. Not Lorelai, not Luke, not Miss Patty, not even Dean or Kirk. Not that little maggot Dean's passing off as a sister. And not me, Rory. Definitely not me."

She suddenly pulled back and stared at him. Her nose was pink and her eyes were red-rimmed, but she didn't appear to have been crying too hard. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry." He wrapped one hand around her waist and brought the other up to run through her hair.

"What for?"

"God, I feel like such an idiot. You ask me if I'm almost done. I'm sorry, I ruined your plans."

"What plans, Rory? There were no plans except for the one to get you away from your homework and I think we accomplished that one."

"No, I'm being miserable. God, what's wrong with me?"

"I think you know," he said honestly.

She sighed softly, enjoying the feeling of his hand in her hair. His light touch made her tingle and she savored it.

"I'm going to Yale," she blurted out.

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm going to Yale," she said again, confidently.

"What about Lorelai? The Harvard wall?"

"She kind of already knows. The wall will come down. Walls fall down. That's what they do." He nodded, not quite understanding the seemingly warped patterns her brain was running in.

"You're going to Yale," he said. "Congratulations, Lorelai Leigh."

Something about the way he said her full name, perhaps a hint of reverence in his tone, made her want to want to pin him to the bench and never let him up. Instead, she looked him in the eye and smiled brightly, a real smile. She smiled…first smile all night, he thought, relieved. He leaned forward a little and kissed one cheek, then the other, then her forehead, her chin, the bridge of her nose. She giggled and he did it again. Something inside of him that had been clenched up finally loosened and he smiled back at her before kissing her full on the mouth. She shifted slightly and the previously ignored erection was now a noticeable presence. Rory moaned when she felt it and pushed down, against him, making him pull away from her and groan.

"I'm better now," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. I don't suppose you want to tell me what the problem was before?"

"The inn," she admitted. "It's pretty stupid. I just…I lived there 'til I was 8. Not in the actual inn, but still. I feel like part of me went with the part that burned. It's really silly, I know, but I'm just sad." She sighed. "It's just more proof that I'm growing up, more proof that I'm not a little girl anymore. And of course, a fire destroying precious childhood memories is a pretty glaring reminder that I'm not 6 years old and playing hide and seek in the kitchen anymore. And the college thing! It's been Harvard since I was 1 and in the space of 3 days and the lists and now it's Yale. It's gorgeous Cambridge for icky New Haven and I've kind of known all day but I'm still trying to adjust to it and…" She trailed off, suddenly aware that she was rambling again. "Shit. I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to spring that on you."

"It's okay."

"No, no it's not. I know you don't like that kind of thing and I had to go and be all mopey and sniffly. Oh God, I didn't get your shirt all wet did I?" She checked. "No. Okay, good."

"Rory," he took her hands in his. "It's fine. Really. I can handle miserable girls, so long as it's in small doses and they eventually come around in the end." He squeezed her hands and smiled at her. "Everyone has shitty days. You had a shitty day, understandable. You cry, you ramble, refuse my killer hot chocolate. Really, it's fine," he joked.

She shook her head, a small smile on her face. "They all still wonder why I'm with you," she said. "They should see us now."

"Do you?"

"I never did. I mean, you're not going to win world's best boyfriend anytime soon." He nodded. "But baby, when you're on, you're really fucking on," she said, altering a line from one of her and Lane's favorite songs.

He was speechless. She…she just swore! She called him "baby." Was she really alright after all? She was looking deep into his eyes, a soft smile on her face. He didn't think he'd ever wanted her as much as he did at that moment. Sure, he'd wanted her after she'd called him "Dodger," and at their bridge picnic and when he saw her dressed up like a 1940's gal, but this was new territory. This was Rory using bad language, talking sweet, sitting on his lap, pouring her heart out and being strangely mature all at once.

"What?" she asked, after what seemed like an endless silence.

"What, what?" he replied hoarsely, almost surprised that his voice worked.

"You're staring."

He didn't answer, didn't say that she had been doing the same. Instead, he pulled her as close as she could get and kissed her again, kissed her hard. His tongue swept her mouth, against hers, trying to memorize every single inch. He bit at her lower lip, his hands snaked into her coat and under her shirt, resting on soft porcelain skin. Her hands found their way into his hair, grabbing the dark strands and pulling as he finally dragged his mouth away from hers and moved it to her neck.

The blanket that had been around her shoulders fell to the floor of the gazebo, but she was warm enough by now that it didn't matter. She cried out into the night as he found the spot that made her squirm the most and sucked lightly. Warm hands skimmed up her ribcage and settled right under her bra. Without realizing, she moved against him again and yanked hard on his hair. Surprised, he pulled away from her neck.

"Well, well. Look who's getting rough," he teased.

She was panting slightly; her lips were red and swollen.

"Shush," she finally said.

"Wow. Nice comeback, Rory. Really shuts me up."

She batted her eyelashes and tossed her head so her hair fell back over one shoulder.

"That wasn't my response," she said haughtily. "This is."

Rory thrust down hard against Jess and made a desperate noise in an attempt to relieve the burning she felt whenever she was around him. This wasn't something they had done before, only something she'd heard about people doing. He didn't respond.

"Did I not do that right?" she asked, suddenly shy.

He shook his head no, an intense look in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. He moved his hands under her shirt again so his fingers were half on her jeans and half on her skin. He thrust up against her, starling her. "Push down," he instructed. He thrust again and this time she met him, resulting in groans from both of them.

"Someone could hear us you know," she said suddenly, reverting back to the Rory he knew.

"Fuck it," he replied easily.

Jess looked into her eyes as he moved against her. She looked away at first, but then slowly found her way back to him. He kept one hand at her waist and moved the other up to cup her breast. Her breathing got heavier when squeezed and she cried out when he pinched her nipple and rolled it expertly between his fingers.

"You have got to be quiet!" he said with a smile.

She just whimpered and bit her lip. The burning had only gotten worse and she didn't know if either of them could make it stop.

"You okay?"

She nodded quickly and pressed harder, like it was the one thing that was keeping her alive. He had never seen her so physically aggressive, and he had to admit to himself that he rather liked it. He pinched her other nipple and elicited another cry of pleasure. Her eyes had closed and she was biting at all parts of her mouth to keep quiet. She's beautiful like this, he thought.

oooooooooo

When it got to be too much for him, he stilled his movements.

"Rory, stop."

"Mmm?" she replied, lazily opening her eyes.

"I can't go anymore," he said.

"Oh," she sounded almost…disappointed. She climbed off of his lap and sat beside him again.

"I'm sorry. I just…I mean, I'm gonna go back up there and your mom could be up and she'd say something to you about me taking a shower so late and--"

"It's okay, I get it." She smiled at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I owe you."

"Owe me what?"

"Owe you. You didn't…" he trailed off.

"Didn't what?" No answer. "Just say it, Jess!"

"You didn't come," he said, his voice low.

"Oh. Oh that's…"

"You wanted to. Don't deny it, Rory. I can tell this kind of thing." She blushed.

"I'll take a rain check, then?" She didn't want to drag the embarrassing conversation out any further.

"Excellent."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"I—I should probably head back. I don't want my mom to see you get home really late and start thinking things."

"Ah, so it's all about you looking out for me?" he smirked.

"Sure. Sure it is," she said confidently. "I am all about looking out for you. Which reminds me of something else that's been nagging at me all day."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"The matter of your school attendance."

"Rory, didn't we just have this conversation. I said I go."

"No, you said you go 'enough.' What's 'enough,' Jess? Enough is not a word that should be used in conjunction with attending your senior year of high school."

"So what? You're going to preach to me too, now?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

"No," she said gently. "But Jess, you need to go to school more than enough. Just graduate. Then you'll be done. No more. No one's telling you to go to college. You're so smart and we all know it, but if you don't graduate you'll just feel worse. You'll be letting us all down."

"Us all?"

"Me, mom, Luke, everyone who has even the tiniest bit invested in you."

"I hate to shatter your sugar plum visions, Rory, but that's like, 3 people and your mom only likes me because you tell her too."

She shook her head.

"You're wrong. Sookie's pulling for you, and Cesar and Jackson and Lane and Dave. No one wants to see you fail. Don't you want to prove them all wrong and say fuck you, I did it? It must matter to you somewhere, deep, deep down in the gallows of your heart? You don't have to admit out loud that it does, just admit it to yourself. Jess, if you don't graduate, you'll feel so much worse than you already do. I know you have issues but I don't ask about them, but this one I feel like I'm responsible for. And I don't mean to act like it's my business but I care about you and I am so close to loving you, Jess, and it breaks me up inside to know that you're not going to school and upholding your part of the bargain with Luke. He took you back, Jess. He took you back when the whole town minus two was ready to lynch you!"

Now she was crying, tears streaming down her face. How could he not see what he was doing to everyone who cared about him, what he was doing to himself? She didn't hear a response from him and she was on a tear, so she just continued.

"He took you back, and this is how you're going to repay him? Very nice, Jess." She stood up, agitated. She wasn't acting quite like herself, but this day hadn't been quite like a normal day. "You have at least two people who really, truly care about you and if you can't even do something remotely nice for them, well…"

She slid off the bench and got down on her knees in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs.

"Please, Jess," she said softly. "Please just graduate. It'll make the world a better place," she added with a hopeful smile.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed at his eyes before looking down at her.

"So," he said, reaching forward and tangling his hands in her hair. "So you're crazy, you're close to loving me and you want me to graduate."

"Yes," she whispered, "but you know I'm right."

He nodded. "You are. And I am fucked-up and in love with you and will have to do a lot of ass kissing tomorrow."

Rory let out a deep sigh of relief and stood up. Basking in glow of the I'm in love with you, she kissed him lightly on the lips and slid sideways onto his lap. His hands were quickly and securely around her waist, holding her in place.

"That was too easy," she stated.

"People in love are foolish and easily comply," he retorted.

"Ah, you're in love," she grinned and poked his cheeks. "You're in love."

"Yeah, and don't I feel like an ass for admitting it. I'm in love with you and you're 'close.' Well, what's 'close,' Rory?" She smiled.

"Close is what I say when I'm in love with you and I don't want to say it to your face because I'm scared of your reaction if I say the real thing. That's my 'close,' Jess."

"I like it."

He held her tightly, fiercely, then; he didn't want to let go of her, not tonight and not ever.