Disclaimer: Nothing's mine, I'm poor, etc.
A/N: Inspired by LiteratiLoverNo1's vid 'Finding Each Other' on youtube.
'Give him paracetamol.'
Rory paused on the step leading to her front door, fishing for her keys in her purse while trying to balance her mobile between her cheek and her shoulder.
'Is he febrile?'
Keys, keys...
'Does he cough?'
Rory continued rummaging through the contents of her purse, suppressing a yawn.
'No, I'm not yawning, mum... No, I don't find your sick Luke situation boring...'
Oh, here they are. Keys.
She unlocked the door and bent down, trying to untie her shoes with one hand while holding the mobile with the other.
'Yes, I realize that if Luke is sick he can't provide coffee. Or food. Or... or that. Jeez, mum, I'm just out of my night shift and I'm groggy, can we not discuss your sex life with Luke right now? Or ever? It was a killer shift, mom.'
She tried to use one of the piled up cardboard boxes in the corridor for support while fighting her way out of her right shoe. God must have created stilettos during a strong surge of chauvinism, Rory realized and sighed with relief as she managed to sneak her foot out of its uncomfortable accommodation.
'Yeah, your little girl is big doctor now, she gives night shifts.'
Rory shook her head with a smile at her mother's enthusiasm.
'What? Yep, almost like doctor Quinn... Eh, Sully? What about him? No, I haven't found my Sully, mom, I'm beyond exhausted and I'm helping Paris move out today, so give Luke the paracetamol and I promise you his cold will get better in no... what are you doing here?' Rory stopped in her track as she saw Jess in the middle of her living room.
'No, not you, mom, I'll call you later, okay?'
Rory hung up despite her mother's 'Who's in your apartment, dear? Is this Sully? You promised to tell me when...'
Jess smirked, giving a pointed look at the mobile in Rory's hand.
'Sully?' he quirked an eyebrow, inspecting her curiously.
'What are you doing here?' she repeated her question from seconds ago.
'Hello to you, too,' he smirked.
'I asked Jess to help me move out,' Paris came out of her bedroom, carrying a pile of clothes.
Her look darted between Rory and Jess.
'You fighting again?' she frowned.
'What?' Rory came out of the semi stupor she had fallen into. 'No. No fighting.' she answered quickly.
'No fighting.' Jess threw his hands up in mock innocence.
Rory gave him a pointed look that said 'Fine.' and left her purse on the couch. Then she took her coat off and picked up a box of CDs from the floor, getting to the task at hand. Paris was moving out, after all.
They heard a cheerful horn beep from the street and Paris went to look out of the window.
'Oh, that's Doyle. He borrowed his boss' van.'
'Great,' Rory elated, thankful she had found a way out. 'I'm taking these down then.'
She had to bend to the side to balance the weight of the box, but carried it on towards the door anyway.
Jess' presence put her on her toes, but strangely, there was a good pat of her that liked that. She liked it more than she was willing to admit, and surely more than she meant to. That was exactly why she did her best to avoid him.
She secured her grip around the box of CDs and passed him by, doing what she did best when facing a problem - she denied it ever existed.
Jess watched her make her way past him and then took another box from the sofa, following her downstairs.
'Mrs Dalloway?' he furrowed as he put the box down on the sidewalk next to hers. 'Since when is Paris in for depressing postmodern literature?'
'Hey, that's mine!'
'Actually, it's Virginia's. You like that stuff?'
Rory shrugged.
'I've read it.'
'You've read it.'
'No, I used it to fill a hole in the wall. Of course I've read it. Now give it back.'
She took the book from his hand but he refused to let go, so they both held on to it for a second.
'Are you mad at me about something?' he narrowed his eyes.
'Do you care if anyone's mad at you about anything?' she asked back.
He let go of the book, his eyes giving away his amusement. He was amused by her bad mood.
'You in your period, aren't you?'
'What?!'
'Just checking.'
'Jeez,' she shook her head. 'Can't I have a proper rant without you ruining it with your sexist presumptions?'
He hesitated for a moment. She really was off today.
'I guess,' he shrugged. He was gonna give her a break.
'I'm gonna miss her, you know?' Rory said then. He looked up.
She sighed and bit on her lip. While Paris and Doyle were doing their best to appear less excited than they were, Rory was doing her best to appear more enthusiastic than she actually was. Rory had tried the phrase 'move out' a couple of times when she spoke to her mom and it bruised her tongue each time. New York was a lonely place without someone to come home to.
Even if Jess did have a witty comment coming, he kept it to himself.
Rory looked around, shaking her head.
'They're both so excited, and I am happy for her, I am. I'm not one of those spoiled self-absorbed people who can't feel happiness for others. It's just... she's my best friend, you know? With her crazy banter and addiction to dried papaya, she's my best friend,' she shrugged helplessly.
'She still is.'
His tone wasn't comforting, but it bore a certain kind of understanding that caught her by surprise. She stared at him and he kept her look. Then Jess gave her a small nod and turned to load the boxes in the trunk. Rory blinked a few times, getting back to reality.
'Sorry I snapped at you a minute ago,' she mumbled.
'You did?' he frowned, feigning surprise.
She smiled and looked down.
'Yeah. A little.'
'Okay,' he shrugged noncommittally and headed back for the apartment.
'Okay,' she mumbled to herself and followed him upstairs.
'You two,' Paris crossed both hands before her chest a couple of hours later.
They had put the last box in the trunk of the van and Jess and Doyle had gone to the new place to unload, so Paris and Rory were alone in the middle of a somehow bare kitchen.
'What's going on?' Paris narrowed her eyes, sizing her friend suspiciously.
'Eh?' Rory poured herself a glass of water and looked up.
'Are you and Jess having an affair?'
Rory choked on her water.
'Excuse me?.'
'Are you?'
Rory blinked. Once. Twice. What the...
'No.'
'You sure?'
'Paris, are you high?'
'I think you should.'
'No, really. You high?'
'You're different around each other.'
'You are. Jeez.'
'No, no, that's good,' Paris nodded thoughtfully. 'There's nothing worse than being with someone who doesn't change you.'
Rory shook her head and sighed.
You change me. You've been my best friend for the past ten years. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't live here, I wouldn't work here, and who knows, maybe I wouldn't even choose medicine in the first place. And now that things are changing, I don't know what to do with a half empty kitchen.
'Remember when we were in high school?' Rory spoke then, putting her glass down on the counter. 'We were constantly looking to find who we really were - what we wanted, what we liked, what we didn't?'
Paris frowned, not getting where this was going.
'And it was okay to just feel confused and... lose yourself once in a while,' Rory continued thoughtfully. 'That was normal, 'cause we were kids and kids need time to learn how to handle growing up, right? But nothing really changes when you grow up. You still need time, and still need someone to wipe your nose and tell you it's gonna be okay until everything's okay again...'
Paris' face softened and she made a few steps to stand before her friend.
'Rory, it's gonna be okay.'
Rory nodded slowly.
'I'm gonna miss you, you know?' she looked up and smiled.
Paris shook her head.
'First, your drama queen tendencies disgust me, and second, I'm not going anywhere.'
'Yes you are. You're moving into your new home. And that's great, it's wonderful, it's just... I'm really gonna miss my friend, as disgusting as that is.'
'I promise to crash here every time Doyle gets on my nerves, okay?' Paris suggested. 'I'm actually wondering if there's any point in moving out.'
Rory smiled and shook her head.
'I'm happy for you, Paris. You know that, right?'
'I do."
'Good.'
'Good.'
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