A/N: Okay, I know these couple of chapters are kind of fluff. But I have some stuff I need to get out before I can add the good, juicy stuff to it. Just hang on. Also, this chapter is a bit longer than the others, but I wanted to fit it all in. Reviews?
Disclaimer: I'm honestly running out of ways to say, "No, I don't own anything."
Her eyes followed his slow, relaxed walk as he made his way back to the desk where he began to shuffle some papers, shaking his head as though distracted. She cocked her head to the side and studied him, trying to tell if time had changed him in any way.
His hair was still as dark, but it hung around his face in a lazy way, the same color as the stubble that contrasted with his pale, Italian skin. His eyes reminded her of coffee, just like they always had; dark and rich and exhilarating. And of course he had that whole outcast/rebel/no-one-understands-me James Dean bit going on, which was just as attractive now as it had been when she was sixteen.
But there was something different about him, not in looks, but in his…presence. He had a kind of confidence that definitely hadn't been there when they were younger. Maybe if she hadn't been so worked up in her own shit when she had seen him last, she would've noticed it.
Her head was like a jigsaw puzzle, and she tried to retrace her steps in her mind to how she had gotten here, of all places, with him, of all people. But it didn't take her long to figure out that she wasn't really surprised at who she was with.
It seemed like he was the one that she came to, or vice versa, when something was screwed up. Even in the fairly short time they had spent together, he had cracked her like a code; figuring out her quirks and breaking them in, finding the perfect ways to tease her and knowing when something was wrong. The only other person who had ever gotten that close to understanding her was her mom, and she felt like she was drifting from her, too.
So it only made sense that when she was finally working her life out, finally on the right track, their paths crossed again. Because she had wanted for so long to be nothing more than who she used to be, and she had gotten so close. So close, but not quite. She missed it—herself, who she used to be. Who she was with him.
She sighed. Huh.
"Hey," Jess drawled, ducking his head to look at her. "You ready?"
She almost laughed at the question. She only wished she was. "Sure."
''Kay," he said. "C'mon." He reached out his hand in a surprisingly gentleman-like gesture. She raised her eyebrows. Maybe he had changed more than she thought.
"Where are we going?" she asked once he lifted her up and started walking purposefully down the hallway and out the door.
"It's a surprise."
"Jess," she scolded. "You know I can't stand surprises."
"Duh," he said mockingly. "That's why I'm doing it."
Okay, maybe he hadn't changed.
She giggled as they rounded the corner, and he stopped at a small shop front with a sign that said "Jane's" and a door that had an old, antique wooden knocker on it.
"We're here," he announced.
"Where's here?" she asked.
He stayed silent, opening the door and leading her inside. She gaped. "Oh, my God."
The room in front of her was medium-sized, with brown walls and a counter in front. The entire place had floor-to-ceiling shelves, all completely stocked with giant glass jars of coffee beans.
"I thought you'd like it," he smirked.
Her eyes were wide like a child's in a candy store, and she ran her hands over the jars like they were made of gold.
"Oh, my God," she said again. "Jess, this is…this is…amazing."
He put his hands in his pockets in a modest gesture. "It's just this place I found," he shrugged, following her. "It made me think of you."
"Wow," she breathed. "I can't even…"
"Yeah," he agreed. "It's pretty incredible."
"Insane is more like it," she said, regaining her power of speech. "God."
He laughed. "I'll sit over here and wait."
"Mmhm," she mumbled, still transfixed. "Jess, how'd you find this place?"
"Dunno," he said. "Just came across it one day. I swear," he said, shaking his head. "It's all your fault I've gotten to be such a caffeine junkie."
"Hey," she said, pretending to be mad. "You should be thanking me, not blaming me."
"Right," he said sarcastically.
"It's true," she nodded. "Coffee is the nectar of the Gods."
"That's in the Gilmore book of unwritten rules, right?" he asked. "Right underneath the 'you can never have too many Red Vines' one."
"Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "We really should write those down some day, shouldn't we?"
"Oh," said Jess. "But then anyone could read them."
She slid into the seat across from the one he had taken. "That's right," she bantered. "And who knows what would happen if they fell into the wrong hands."
"Like Lex Luther."
"Or Darius Rucker."
He laughed. "Hootie and the Blowfish?"
"I've always harvested a special hatred for Soni."
"Who hasn't?" he said seriously.
She smiled, biting her bottom lip. This was why she was here, with him. She missed this. Everyone in Stars Hollow had always wondered why she hadn't cried much after he left at the end of senior year. Her mother thought it was because he hadn't treated her right. But that wasn't it. It was because she wasn't sorry. She didn't regret a second they spent together, not even the bad ones. No one knew that he could be sweet and nice and prefect to her. And sure, he had screwed up, but that wasn't what mattered. Sometimes just remembering—just knowing—that what they had was good when they had it was enough. And that's what love's about, isn't it? The sometimes.
She looked up at him, taking in his features. "Thanks."
"For what?" he asked curiously.
"Just," she shrugged. "Thanks."