Crossing the Rubicon

Chapter 3: He Blames the Sky

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the insanity that is my mind.

Stars Hollow

Lorelai stirs when the light streaming through the open window begins to be a pain. But she forgets that pain all too quickly as she inhales the smell of food. She's not sure what it is because she's still functioning on her morning mind, pre-coffee; but she knows its food and that were she in her own house she wouldn't be privy to Luke's breakfast in Luke's apartment. So she hurriedly disentangles herself from the sheets and scrambles to the bathroom to brush her teeth quickly with her finger. When she steps out of the bathroom teeth brushed, she can finally identify what Luke is placing in a plate.

She waits till he places it in front of her to comment though. "You made me fluffy pancakes, eggs, and bacon. And you didn't put it so that it was staring at me." She looks up at him happily. "Thank you, Luke." He nods and hands her a fork, so she can eat.

"Coffee's almost ready." She nods half way through her breakfast already. When he moves to get a mug for her coffee she gets up and sets the dishes in the sink. He hands her the mug filled to the brim with coffee and she inhales it gratefully. "So what are you doing today?" He asks her when she sits back down in the chair.

"Hmm; well I'm going home to get changed for work, then work, then lunch here, then back to work, then dinner here again, and then home." She pauses in drinking her coffee to say this and he nods at her.

"Right, because you always do that." He clears his throat and before he can think better of it asks, "How are you holding up?" In answer she gets up to place the empty mug in the kitchen sink. "Lorelai?" She turns around to face him.

"Luke, it's only been a day since my daughter left me. What do you want me to say?" She barks at him. She exhales roughly exasperated at herself. "I'll get better, just give my...time." She eyes him. "The authoritativeness last night and morning breakfast helped though." He looks at her doubtfully. "Really," She adds truthfully at him and he smiles at her. She nods at him and heads for the door. "See you at lunch, Luke." She throws over her shoulder as the door closes behind her. She sighs happily and walks briskly down the stairs and out the door of the diner, heading home to start her day.

Boston

Rory turns sleepily on her side. She groans in thanks at the comfortable thing under her. What is it? The name of the 'thing' is lost somewhere in the haze that's currently taking residence in her mind. She brings a hand lazily to her eyes and proceeds to rub them. Upon opening them she takes a look underneath her. It's a bed? How did I get here? She remembers yelling at Tristan. Telling-yelling at him, the discernible things that made her fall for Jess. And telling him what she feared would happen had she told Jess and or her mother of her pregnancy. She remembers Tristan holding her as she cried on his shirt-ruined it and then she must've fallen asleep. Tristan must've brought me here. She sits up on the bed and takes a look around. The room is bigger than her room in Stars Hollow. It has a bureau directly beside the wall adjacent to the bed. A dresser stands on the far right side the room, beside two slightly open doors. One door shows her a small closet and the other one shows her the bathroom.

She glances around at the walls, notices its bare white coloring and frowns. She looks at the bureau to find her duffel bag laying on it. She stands walking over to it only to find a post it sticking to it. It reads,

"Mare,

There's tooth paste in the bathroom, I'm assuming you bought your own tooth brush and tooth paste. Thought you ought to know regardless. Get dressed and come outside to eat breakfast. We're all going out when breakfast is over.

Your new roomie, Tristan."

She smiles at his scrawl. She sticks the post it on the bureau's mirror and opens her duffel searching for clothes, socks, and her tooth brush and tooth paste. Upon finding a small black shirt and a pair of blue jeans she gets dressed and puts on her socks and sneakers. She glances at herself than heads to the bathroom with tooth paste and tooth brush in hand. She turns on the water and gets to work on her teeth. Right when she finishes there's a knock on her door. "Come in," Sloppily leaves her mouth as she's rinsing out the foamy tooth paste. That's how Tristan finds her, tooth brush clean on the side of the bathroom sink, and mouth foamy.

He chuckles at her. She furrows her eyebrows at him. "Trying out rabid, huh? It works for you." She glances at her reflection on the mirror and her eyes widen comically. She hurriedly lowers her face into the sink and washes away the foam.

"I needed an opinion, thanks for contributing yours." She moves out of the bathroom and out her room confident that he's right behind her. The smell of pancakes hits her and she stills.

"Des makes the most delicious pancakes I've ever had. Go on." He prompts her from behind with a hand to her back. She moves limply towards the kitchen counter. She sits on one of the stools to have a plate of pancakes placed in front her. Des hands the fork towards her.

"I am the Pancake King." Don't forget that. He proclaims giving her the fork and a smile. She nods dazedly at him; eyes still on the pancakes and she cuts a bite. She lifts it towards her mouth and inhales. As soon as the tines leave her mouth her eyes close. Three pairs of laughter hit her ears but she's too entranced to notice. The pancake is so fluffy. Suddenly hungry she wolfs down her pancakes. "Good?" Des asks her, highly amused.

She nods, full and pleased. Tristan and Leo move to stand before her as Des puts her plate in the sink. "You ready, Mare?" She shakes her head suddenly empty and pouts at the three. They look at her questioningly. She knows that she can ask for the murder of someone she highly dislikes and they'd do it. They're powerless against the famous Gilmore pout.

She knows this because she's used it to get Jess to do things that he'd flat-out refuse to do otherwise. And if stoic Jess can't refuse her pout, then her new roommates don't stand a chance. The three of them notice the distant look in her eyes and she knows deep in her heart that if she thinks his name once more; that door hidden behind the inner recesses of her mind will unlock and open itself. Like that Beetle Juice spell. Say his name three times and the past that I'm denying myself access to will come out that door-the Dodger Door-that keeps itself locked tighter than Fort Knox and I'll drown in us. And she knows this as sure as she knows the sun is up and it's bright outside...but right now she can't bring herself to care. Je-

"What do you want before we breeze?" Des asks. And she eyes him curiously, she wanted something? She can't remember right now. But then she tastes the pre-coffee taste in her mouth and smiles sweetly at Des.

"Coffee," Des furrows his eyebrows at her like he can't remember something.

"It's fresh in the pot." She smiles giddily at him before jumping off the stool and heading straight for the coffee pot. Leo places a coffee thermos in front of her before she can begin to busy herself searching for a mug.

"Filled it completely, let's go." Leo says putting his arm around her own and leading her out the door. She complies and opens the thermos taking a grateful sip. She distractedly catches "Are pregnant girls allowed to drink coffee?" that Tristan asks to Des before she greedily sips some more.

From behind her and Leo, Des shrugs with a smirk. "You didn't tell me she loved coffee." Tristan looks sideways at him.

"I wasn't aware of that fact."

"Well now we know." Tristan smirks at him. She has that pout and we have the coffee. Des nods knowing that Tristan just realized what he did in the condo.

They both get in Leo's silver hummer, putting away the new information for further inspection later. Leo turns the ignition over and they head out. Rory happily sips her coffee; Leo drives and shifts through the stations, while the two friends stare out the windows at the bustle of Boston.

California

It's been three weeks since he left Stars Hollow. Three weeks since he left Taylor, Dean, the rest of the townspeople, Lorelai, Luke, and her. Three weeks, two days, and eight hours. But oddly enough-maybe not that odd-he's not in the slightest bit giddy at that realization. Because in those three weeks, two days, and eight hours since he's left Stars Hollow; he has had a problem.

He sits on his temporary bed on the living room floor, with a scowl on his face. He sighs frustrated. And that very problem is being blatantly annoying today. He stares at the book in his tight grasp.

Jess's problem is his inability to get lost in a plot. Since those three weeks every time he's tried to read a book, this damned problem has surfaced. He hasn't been able to get through a single book. Forget book he hasn't been able to get through a paragraph, sentence, consonant, or vowel. He forcefully shoves the book away from himself. There is a perfectly respectable reason as to why his problem is inexplicably annoying today and it is because he dreamt of her last night. He sighs. It wasn't just any dream, it was the memory of that night; their night. And he can't let himself think of it, thinking about her and or her name is taboo.

Jess denies himself access to the memories of them because it'd be wrong somehow. Taking a stroll down memory lane intentionally or not; without knowing where he stands with her feels wrong to him. He scoffs, he knows exactly where he stands with her...or at least he thinks he knows. I'm no less than a stranger to her now. Hence the reason for her name being taboo; because how does that saying go? Say the devil's name and he'll appear. It probably goes the same for thinking the name too. Experience and common sense have taught him that his thinking her name or saying it out loud won't make her appear before him. Nights spent thinking Jimmy's name as a child taught him that the theory is for naught.

But still, he's made himself two rules: No thinking her name or saying her name. No remembering them together. And for three weeks Jess hasn't broken his two rules. Well with the exception of his dream last night. But after last night he wants to see her, needs to see her, even if it's just behind closed eyes. Besides Jess has never been one for rules.

With his mind set; he throws himself back on the mattress, eyes closed. Rory. He thinks breathily from within his mind. And with her, the saying proves true.

Flashback

"They say a man experiences his happiest moments with the person who makes him most happy." Her voice is quiet as they sit on the bridge, shoes dangling over the water leisurely, and eyes on the stars reflecting on the lake's surface. The clouds above them threaten to open up above them and release an outpour of rain. His amber eyes move from the water's surface to her calm face. He knows that though the statement is random, she's going somewhere with it; just like he knows that in a couple of hours-maybe even minutes-her stomach will growl announcing her hunger for food.

So he humors her random statement. "It seems plausible." He nods to accentuate its plausibility. She averts her sapphire orbs so that she's looking into amber eyes. There's something hidden beneath the amusement shining in her eyes at his statement. An emotion he's sure he's only ever seen once before in her eyes. If he isn't mistaken it was after the disaster of dinner in her grandparent's house and before Kyle's party. But the name of the emotion escapes him as she enthralls him with the force of it.

"Assuming that it's plausibility is severely high. Who, then, makes you experience your happiest moments?" Both the way that her pouty lips curve in a knowing smile and the emotion, once hidden behind amusement now at the forefront of her eyes, tells him she knows his answer without needing to hear his response. The combination of knowing her certainty and seeing it frighten him. How can she know when I don't? He knows even after he thinks that question that her certainty in his answer for her question comes from the way he acts around her; and that seems to scare him more. But why does this knowledge scare me?

She's waiting patiently and he swallows his throat suddenly dry. "Rory," Her name is all that makes it past his lips, because he has no clue as to how he'll change the direction this conversation is headed. She shifts her position, so that her lips are suddenly mere inches from his. As she closes the remaining distance, the corner of her lips curve in a smile; a new smile that he's never seen on her before. Her lips graze his lips slowly and he gasps. In that brief exhalation he's hit with the thought that she planned this all; from her random question to his breath catching. This kiss that she's just initiated is starkly in and of its own accord, rare for them. As her lips brush teasingly against his own he can't help but respond in kind, slow and promising. She's awfully cunning. He thinks, amazed at her, as she brings her fingers delicately to the sides of his jaw. Then she opens her mouth and licks his bottom lip with her velvet tongue. He gives in to her allowing her the power to do as she wishes with him; and he's not sure how they get there but they somehow end up behind the Independence Inn, in the potting shed before the rain can catch them.

He has an arm wrapped securely around her waist fitting her into him completely while his hand is tilting her head back giving him more access to her sweet lips and velvet tongue. Her fingers are tangled in his dark hair. Her hand pulls on his hair and his gasp of pleasure rockets him back into reality. He disentangles himself away from her and faces the door. The door is safe; it leads to the torrent of rain outside. If things get too heated then he can cool himself down by drenching himself in the rain. He scoffs inwardly at himself. Things got way past heated on the bridge with her kiss.

His breathing is the only indication just how close he'd gotten to falling over the edge, he puts his forehead gently on the surface of the door delighting in the fact that the weather outside the potting shed matches the battle within him. She's gasping for air too and he prides himself that he got her like that. She brings her fingers to the bottom of his gray shirt and under till her fingers are caressing his sides with feather light touches. He clenches his eyes tightly shut and presses his forehead into the door with more force. Her fingers lift the bottom of his shirt upwards.

"Rory," he warns her and she answers him by lifting his shirt up till she can see his bare back. With his help his arms are out of the sleeves of his shirt and the shirt is above his shoulders, around his neck now and she lets her fingers roam the planes of his smooth back. Every brush of her fingers causes his muscles to tense in reaction to her tantalizing touch. She leans up toward him and brings her mouth to his ear so that he can feel her hot breath on the shell of his ear. He hisses in pleasure as she nips at the lobe of his ear, all the while her fingers continue their torturous ministrations on his back. "Rory," he says again. And she cuts him off.

"You know," she starts conversationally in his ear, as though she isn't pushing him over the edge more. "You're the one man who makes me happy." Her words tickle his ear and he can't stand not looking into her eyes anymore, so he turns slowly to face her. When his eyes meet hers, he sees the truth of her words in her sapphire orbs. Her hands, which stayed on his skin while he turned to face her, lift the shirt up over his head and she lets it fall to the floor. Her eyes greedily take in the sight of him half naked before her as her fingers dance over the contours of his chest. She notices the way that his muscles respond to her. Unable to cope with the loss of having her body next to him; he leans into her placing his forehead gently on her own and his fingers under her shirt on the skin of her sides.

His eyes are on hers and she finds herself nodding to his unspoken question. Her arms now around his neck gently push him into her and away from the door; he gets the hint and directs her toward the bed on the side of the shed near the window and down pouring rain. His amber eyes silently ask her again as they land, seated, on the bed and her answer is to place her own hands on his still ones at her sides and to direct them to lift her shirt upwards. He complies and brings his lips unhurriedly to hers and breathes "Rory," before he surrenders himself completely to her will and his desire.

---

They're in a tangle of limbs under the blanket and he's certain she's asleep. As he lays there next to her, somewhere in his sleepy mind he's ecstatic that she's cunning because he wouldn't believe her to be ready otherwise. If he had kissed her first then he isn't certain he could've stopped himself had she not been ready. He gently brushes a strand of chestnut hair out of her face. You are awfully cunning, Gilmore. He's almost certain she knew that she had him at her random statement. He sighs and places his forehead next to her own, their mouths centimeters apart. That new smile she had curving her lips before is on her face now. He proclaims the new smile his, the Jess smile.

He closes his eyes and, slowly but surely, succumbs sleep. He's just about to let sleep overtake him, his breathing even, when she stirs next to him. "I love you, Jess." She whispers to his lips in a bedroom murmur. And as he lets himself slip into the realm of sleep his heart pounds furiously in his chest at her silent confession. Awfully cunning. His last thought as he slips into sleep.

End Flashback

A sloppy tongue licks his face and he finds himself back on his mattress in the living room. Jess shoves the four-legged canine, Frodo, away from him. He sighs glad he took the forbidden excursion into the past of them. He knows, with every fiber of his being, that her silent confession wasn't his imagination.

"Jess, did you finish the book?" Lily asks quietly from inside of the closet. He sighs again and grabs the book; he gets up off the bed and walks over to the closet. He knocks softly announcing his presence. She opens the closet and makes a grab for the book. She flips through it and pouts up at him. "You didn't write in the margins."

"It's not my book." He admits half-heartedly to her. They both know the book not belonging to him wouldn't have stopped him, but she nods accepting his answer. He's silent until she closes the closet door. "I'm going out. I'll probably head to Dante's and start my shift early." He doesn't wait for her reply because she knows he wasn't expecting it. He's been working four jobs since Sasha agreed to let him stay temporarily, one job being at Dante's Inferno.

He walks out the house and stares up at the bright sun and blue sky as he heads towards Santa Monica. He glares at the blue sky. It reminds him of her eyes. So that's why he dreamt of her last night; in preparation for today. He knows that logically the brazen blue sky above him isn't the cause for his dream. But logical thought doesn't deter him in picking the sky as his scapegoat. Jess sends one more glare heavenward. He blames the sky. Logical thought be damned.

He reaches Dante's in time to hear Deke finish a set. Deke Calhoun, a gifted trumpet player, just recently became a regular at Dante's. Deke sets the trumpet on the round black tabletop happily nods at Jess. He catches Jess' nod and scowl and laughs. "You woke up on the wrong side of the mattress, Jessie boy?" Since Deke is in his late fifty's, Jess lets him get away with the nickname. He nods sitting down in the chair across from Deke. "You want to talk about it?"

"Nosy geezer," The empty insult merely causes Deke to laugh. Jess sighs casting his eyes on the tabletop.

Deke chuckles at him and decides not to pressure him. "So after you work here, you're going to your other jobs?" Jess nods and gets up, to start his shift.

After his shift at Dante's he heads to the bookstore. He starts his shift begrudgingly as he eyes the customers that are able to read. Maybe he's succumbing to insanity in blaming the sky but his alternative is to blame her. So instead of blaming her he blames the sky.

After the bookstore he heads to the coffee shop, his third job is a restaurant, his last job his second shift at Dante's. For the past three weeks he's distracted himself with his four jobs. He saves the money, opting to have enough for when his month at Jimmy's ends and he has to leave. His not sure where he's going when the month is over but New York sounds good.

A/N: I'm sorry for the late update. Well, there's chapter three.