A/N: I would really like to thank everyone for the reviews – especially for the couple of constructive criticisms (I know, weird). The main issue I gathered was with characterization. I re-read and can definitely appreciate what went wrong; I'm hoping to be able to fix it this chapter, but if not, please be honest and let me know if things haven't improved. Thanks again, and hope everyone enjoys :)

Also, thanks to Lauren for beta-ing! :D

What Now?

Jess walked for what felt like years, but at the same time, only seconds. The sun wasn't yet coming up when he finally stopped, which he figured was probably a good sign. Not that he really gave a shit, but he thought maybe it would be a good idea to make some kind of appearance before Luke did something ridiculous like get the cops after him.

He took a moment to look at where he was, and almost ran in the opposite direction when he realized he was at the bridge. He hadn't meant to end up here. At all. Especially without a freaking book in his back pocket to at least keep him busy.

Well, then obviously, he'd turn around and go. Only made sense. Shaking his head and shrugging slightly at himself, Jess strode back into the woods.

And then he heard her. He stopped in his tracks, frozen with his hands still in his pockets and merely stared at the trees that were spread out before him.

A part of him wasn't surprised that she'd come here for some reason. Maybe it was as much of an instinct for her as it had seemed to be for him. Or maybe it was just close enough to her house that she could stay here and do what she needed to and get back before Lorelai was home and would notice her obvious absence.

Jess couldn't be sure at this point, given that it was almost one thirty, and on a Thursday night, too.

He was shaken out of his daze and thoughts by a quiet sucking in of breath. He knew it wasn't a sob – Rory Gilmore was not the dramatic type; she was quiet, reserved, she held those types of things back. It sounded more like a gulp for air, as thought she couldn't breathe.

Well, he wasn't going to go back now. It would make it seem like he was a wimp, like he was afraid of going up to her. It was his bridge; he'd seen it first, and as childish as that stupid remark sounded, it was true. Jess wasn't encroaching on her personal space, and even if he had been, he wouldn't have cared anyway (or so the majority of himself tried to convince the minority in the war that continued to wage inside him).

Trying to steel himself into a slouch and stride that would resemble normalcy, Jess turned. He fixed a cold, maybe even taunting, look in his eyes as he took a few steps toward the bridge. Part of him wanted to stop and be a coward – he could learn to forget about it, not beat himself up over it – but he ignored that part and walked over to the middle of the bridge almost purposefully, yet still casually.

"What are you doing here?"

Jess wasn't sure if he was necessarily surprised to see the tears on her face, but he felt something at seeing them there, at hearing the slight gurgle in her throat that she cleared immediately. Rory looked back out at the water, waiting for him to answer.

"It's my bridge," he replied coolly, staring at the water as well, making sure to keep his hands in his pockets.

"Well sorry for taking your stupid bridge then," He felt the heat of her glare on the side of his head him and bit his tongue against a sarcastic retort (why did he bite his tongue for her? He was still figuring that one out), keeping his gaze fixed on a point that was far down the river.

It was quiet for a few beats, and Jess chose to take that time to sit down. He left a good five feet of space between himself and Rory, though he wasn't sure why he felt the need to suddenly be chivalrous in any way. It was her own fault if something happened between them, he wasn't the one with a significant other.

Well...okay, technically he was. But he really did not care one way or another about Shane, and that had already been proven on numerous occasions, including one that had occurred previously that evening.

Jess felt something tingle near his neck and his eyes darted to sweep over her momentarily; he noted that she jerked her head back forward when he did this. Really, they were going to play some kind of game of chicken?

But he stopped his mocking when he noticed her look at him again, and he turned his head to face her full-on. They held the contact, and he felt so much pass through the air – sighs, whispers of longing, murmurs of want and desire, phantom touches full of heat and thundering anticipation. Their eye contact was momentary, at best, because Jess had to look away, forced himself to – he didn't know why, though.

Jess knew her eyes were still fixed on him, on the side of his face, his neck, he could feel them memorizing him, could sense her imprinting his every feature into her mind. If he were less of a man, his cheeks would have been burning at the almost intense way her eyes were focused on him. But instead, he pretended not to notice; he ignored her.

It appeared she didn't really care for that too much.

"Are we really just going to sit here?" Rory piped up, somewhat timidly, when he didn't return her gaze again.

He almost smirked at the way she felt the need to fill this silence, the empty air between them that was full of loaded stares, intense gazes. Almost.

"We're not going to...I don't know, talk? I mean, I'm sure that's not really in your vocabulary with these sorts of things, but, it's usually standard protocol."

That was why he hadn't smirked. He'd known that was coming.

"What is there to talk about?" Maybe if he diverted somehow, though a growing part of him knew that would be unsuccessful. Despite everything about her that often said otherwise, when Rory got her mind set on something, she kept on with it.

"Come on, Jess." Rory almost pleaded with him somehow. He turned to her, glancing at her face quickly, but not so quickly that he didn't notice how it had changed. He saw that doe-like quality in her eyes again. He had to look away, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from reaching out, trying to soothe her in some way that he didn't even really fully understand, trying to kiss her, just touch her.

He couldn't do any of that, so he had to look away.

"Well, aren't you still with Dean?" This was the last thing Jess wanted to discuss, because he didn't want to talk about things with her. First of all, it wasn't really like him to talk, and second of all, it was too late for him to think clearly enough to hold a a conversation with anyone. Thus, he chose the easy way out – reminding her of her boyfriend. That way, she'd forget about him. Jess knew he'd regret it at some point within the next day, but at that point in time, he didn't really care too much.

"Yeah, I am," Rory shot back at him quickly.

"Fine then. There's not much to talk about; we can just forget any of it happened." He ignored the tingles he felt when she turned to him and merely stared, nearly burning a hole in the side of his skull. He didn't turn to meet her gaze, until he felt something in the air shift.

She'd scooted closer to him. It was an imperceptible movement, slow, small. But it was a movement, and he'd felt it, and damn it, something had changed now. The air was thicker, full of these little shockwaves that rippled back and forth in what was now maybe four and a half feet between them.

There was an unspoken pact between them to not make any further contact of any sort.

Rory didn't get angry or sarcastic, and she didn't leave, either – both of which perplexed Jess more than he'd ever say. They just sat there in the same silence that had begun their mistakingly clandestine meeting.

The two were almost mirror images of one another, both only looking out at the water, never at each other. Their hands stayed in their laps, and passersby might've sworn they were statues.

Jess didn't feel the time pass as he sat there – he literally did feel frozen in this part of space and time, in some strange, unreal way.

That was all jarred, though, when Rory got up. It seemed sudden to him, probably because he was...well, comfortable just sitting there, staring, as he often did when he came out here (despite the fact that he always brought along a book, it often went unread).

"I'm going home," she murmured quietly. He took that very moment to look up at her, just one last time.

He regretted it.

Because he noticed almost painfully the badly masked evidence of recently-crusted tears (or maybe she just hadn't tried to mask them). When his eyes locked onto hers, Jess felt like he could read her every thought – yes, that was damn cheesy and just plain ridiculous, but he reminded himself that it was, indeed, late, and he was probably just so tired that he just wasn't himself.

What he saw flash beneath the surface of her eyes told him of how tired she was – just as much as he, really – and the confusion she'd expressed to him earlier, the frustration; not really knowing what was happening, but at the same time, being sure of what she wanted. Rory wanted him, he could see that there; but she felt like she needed Dean, or maybe that Dean needed her. All this he saw beneath the brief gaze of her vibrant blue eyes.

And Jess understood, sort of, maybe where she was coming from.

He didn't really like that he was understanding it, and wasn't sure he'd even wanted to in the first place. But the fact remained that he did. And maybe at some point that could work in his favor – reading her.

In response to her previous statement, Jess merely gave his customary nod, his neck flexing reflexively. She turned away from him and walked up the path that led to her house, and he watched her. He watched her, dying for a cigarette, or a book. Something, anything that would keep his hands, which were shaking so badly that he wanted to wring them endlessly, busy.

But Jess merely sat there, staring back out at the water again and really wondering, for the first time, what the fuck they would do now.

A/N: Review, please. :)