AN: Hello hello! Thanks so much to my beta, Jewels12! She's been so busy with school and, you know, having a life, yet she still finds time for my little story. Not only does she keep my writing in line, but she also cheers me on. As do you, gentle reader, with your positive reviews and various alerts. It's all great fuel to keep me going. I also want to give credit to Yvaughn for unintentionally influencing this chapter. Thanks everyone!

All right, I hope you guys enjoy the latest installment!

Rory knocked on the door and entered when Carl called out that the coast was clear. Marty glanced over and noticed she was empty handed.

"Where's my breakfast, woman?" he playfully demanded, tossing a pen across the desk.

She squinted her eyes in her best attempt at a withering stare. "Watch it, mister, or I might have second thoughts about letting you out."

"Out?" both boys asked, Marty clearly perking up at the prospect.

"Yes, out."

"As in…." Marty trailed off hopefully.

"As in you can grab your guitar, we'll hit the coffee cart together, and head over to the garden," Rory clarified.

Marty leaped out of his chair, frantically unzipping the case in the corner and loading his pockets.

"What's the occasion, Warden?" Carl asked. "Time off for good behavior?"

"Pretty much. I figured since his last paper was turned in on time and received an A, he deserved a little break."

"Isn't she the best?" Marty chimed in, hugging her tightly to his side.

Carl chuckled and shook his head, then smirked at Rory as if to say, 'I told you so.' She rolled her eyes in response as Marty added, "Now, let's go before you change your mind."

"Don't you want to put your contacts in?" she asked, laughing at what a hurry he was in.

"Nope. I'm not taking any chances. Letsgoletsgoletsgo!"

Once outside, Rory cast a few sidelong glances up at him.

"What?" Marty asked when he caught her.

"Nothing," she lied, a smile tugging at her lips as she remembered how it all began.

It started off casually enough. It hadn't even been anything romantic. There had been a contact snafu and Marty showed up to class wearing his glasses. Though this wasn't the first time she'd seen him wear them, all the other instances had been when she stopped by his room in the morning or before he went to bed. For Rory, Marty's glasses went with pajamas and that was it. She had never seen him wear them when he was dressed and ready for the day.

When he addressed her with a defensive yet playful "What?" Rory realized she had been staring at him. Not only that, but internally she had been gushing, and it must have shown on her face.

"I just love how you look in your glasses, that's all. They're very cute on you."

She watched Marty smile to himself while he settled into his seat. "I'm glad you like them so much," he whispered as the professor began her lecture.

Turning to the front of the room, Rory raised her eyebrows, slightly surprised with herself. She was pretty sure that was the first time either of them had used the word 'love' in reference to the other. She glanced at Marty. If he had noticed, he didn't seem phased by it.

"This should be weird. But it isn't weird. Is it weird that it isn't weird?" Rory wondered.

She smiled at her own ridiculousness and started scribbling away.

Thinking back on it now, Rory marveled at how easily and unconsciously that word had slipped out all on its own. The first time she said 'love' to a boy, it had taken a lot of effort. Rory had deliberated on it for a long time with Dean and never said it to Jess while they were dating. With Marty, it just came out.

"Oh man, there's a line," he groused, pulling Rory out of her thoughts as he gestured to the cart.

"There's always a line," she laughed. "You just haven't seen it in many days."

"I know. It just sucks that my few precious minutes of freedom are being wasted in line. It's like spending your vacation day sitting in traffic."

"Doesn't the fact that I'm here make it suck a little less?"

"Hmm," Marty pretended to consider. "I guess a little less."

He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rubbed his face into the crook of her neck. Amid her soft laughter, Rory was again transported to a similar occurrence.

A few days ago, Rory was waiting in line to reserve some books on her way out of the library. She was used to feeling Marty sneak up behind her, brush the hair off her shoulder, and give her a kiss on her neck. Rory smiled and twisted around in his arms to give him a proper kiss before he tucked himself away for the next couple hours.

She purred slightly against his lips and murmured, "Mmm, I love the way you do that."

"Well, then, I'll make sure I never stop." Marty beamed down at her, looking mighty proud of himself.

When she turned to the counter, Rory realized she'd done it again. And like the first time, it just flowed effortlessly.

"You didn't bring a book," Marty commented as they approached the garden. The sun poured down on them with a soft warmth, balancing out the cool breezes that carried the mixed scents of the spring flowers surrounding them.

"Nope. I wanted to let you sing to your heart's content," Rory explained in reference to the way he only sang when she was done reading.

She swung one leg over the bench seat and leaned against the curved arm. Marty settled in front of her and eased himself back.

"Am I squishing you?" he asked.

"Nope," Rory confirmed, rubbing her cheek against his curls and running her fingers along the sides of his t-shirt. His quiet music drifted through the air. There was a rustle nearby, and Rory spied two birds hopping from branch to branch, chasing each other. Contentment washed over her, and she sighed happily.

I love snuggling with you.

There it was again! Rory always had trouble saying it in the past, and here it was now, tumbling out of her mouth or into her thoughts time and time again. Granted, she hadn't actually said, "I love you." These instances were close, though.

Do I love Marty and I just don't know it?

Rory felt sixteen again, trying to figure out whether or not she loved her boyfriend. However, it wasn't quite the same this time. With Dean, it had almost been like she was choosing to love him, maybe because she thought she was supposed to. Here, Rory was just studying herself, trying to get her head up to speed with her heart. It was taking the same effort and deliberation. The difference was whether she was pushing herself to be in love, or if she was pushing herself to stop resisting the fact that she was in love.

I'm in love, aren't I?

A warm rush coursed through her and she gave Marty a little squeeze.

Love was peppered into Rory's conversation like second nature because it was second nature. This wasn't a crush anymore. She loved Marty; she just hadn't admitted it until now.

Rory wondered if it was too soon to tell him. They had only just passed the two month mark. Dean didn't get around to saying it until three months, and even then it didn't go too well for him. She didn't want to make a fool of herself like Dean, saying it before the other person felt the same way.

This, of course, made her remember what Carl's previous glance had alluded to.

When Rory arrived at the Psych coffee cart, Marty was already there at a table with Carl, nose buried in a book.

"Hey, guys," she said, taking a seat next to Marty and giving him a peck hello.

"Hey," he greeted, sliding the third coffee cup over to Rory.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere off on your own with that?" she chided amiably.

"Shhh, you're distracting me," Marty said, playfully shooing her away. "Talk to Carl. He was just telling me a rumor that you guys are probably about to get your mid-terms from Dr. Schwartz."

Rory gasped then quickly tried to reign in her excitement. "Your sources better be good," she warned Carl. "If you get my hopes up only to have them dashed to pieces, I may have to hurt you."

"Whatever," he said indifferently. "You get your hopes up everyday anyway."

The two classmates talked quietly about the ridiculous assignments they had received, or exchanged updates about the other members of the crew. Fifteen minutes later, Marty checked his watch and closed his book.

"So, you'll come by later?" he asked, ducking through the strap on his bag.

"Same bat time, same bat channel. Just text me what you want for dinner," Rory answered as he bent over to give her a kiss goodbye.

"Where's mine?" Carl joked with puckered lips when Marty walked past and headed down the hallway.

Marty gave her a little wave, which she returned. He smiled and waved a second time. Rory giggled at his silliness and waved again. His third wave was interrupted by the wall he bumped into.

"That's what he gets for not watching where he's going," Carl teased.

Marty rolled with the error, exaggerating his ricochet so that he bounced into the other wall. Rory laughed as he continued to bounce and spin and wave until he was out of sight.

"That boy is so in love with you," Carl said, laughing as he shook his head and stirred his coffee.

She pretended to dismiss his comment. "Come on, finish up."

"Getting there early won't get you that mid-term any sooner, missy."

Unfortunately, Carl's offhand remark wasn't proof of Marty's feelings. On the other hand, Rory wasn't sure proof was needed. It had angered Dean when Rory didn't return the sentiment right away. It was as though his point was to make her say it, too. But the point of telling someone you love him should be just that; much like when she admitted she was interested in Marty that starry night. Rory wanted him to know, even if she only received a polite 'thank you' in response.

It's settled then. When the moment is perfect, I'll tell him.

Paying attention to his singing again, Rory smiled and nuzzled his hair. "I still think you should sign up for open mike night."

Marty shook his head as he continued to sing, and she knew he was rolling his eyes as well.

Rory tilted her head up to the sky and let her lids droop lazily. A languid smile spread across her face. She was so comfortable, Rory felt like she could fall asleep.

Suddenly, her eyes shot open with a jolt.

This is it! THIS is the perfect moment!

It was a beautiful day, one of their rare times alone together recently, and they were in the garden. Their garden.

Laughing quietly to herself for being oblivious up to now, Rory dropped her head forward and brought her lips to his ear, ready to whisper those three little words.

Before she even had a chance to inhale, Marty sat up.

Crap!

The moment was slipping away as quickly as she noticed it was there. Luckily, he wasn't making a move to leave, instead fiddling with the tuning keys. Rory scooted forward, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head between his shoulder blades.

"Hey, Marty?" she asked tentatively.

"Hmm?" he hummed absently, playing some test chords.

Rory rolled her head to place a kiss on his shirt and whispered, "I love you."

Marty lifted his head briefly then immediately dropped it down again, his one hand sliding down the strings with a high pitched scrape as he slumped forward. "Dammit, Rory," he mumbled.

She froze, confused.

Is he mad?

This possibility hadn't crossed her mind at all. "I'm sorry," Rory murmured as she pulled away slightly, unsure of what she was apologizing for.

"No, no, don't be sorry," he said, swinging his leg over the bench so he could angle toward her. His voice was reassuring, which only confused her more. "I didn't mean – I mean, I – You just–" Marty cut himself off, pinching his mouth and eyes closed in a grimace. "I was gonna play you this song," he explained with his eyes still shut. "A song that I wrote. And it might be stupid to still play it, but if you let me play it, maybe you won't think I'm the jackass I seem like right now."

She studied his face which was screwed up tight in mental discomfort, and all her own disappointment and frustration melted away. "Okay," Rory said softly.

"Okay," he echoed, taking a deep, calming breath. Marty's eyes remained closed as he found his bearings on the guitar again and strummed a familiar tune. Then he cleared his throat and began to sing.

If you're a fool, you'll think you can create it.
You'll have rules, follow steps to try and make it.
You'll wish you could control it, try to be in command.
And you'll blame yourself when things don't go as planned.

If you're lucky, you'll see it when it's there,
in a look that shows that you both care.
In a friendship you're sure will slowly grow.
In a sigh that says that you both know.

If you're smart, you won't let it pass on by.
You'll embrace it, never asking why.
You'll voice it, without shyness or reserve.
You'll accept it, hoping it's deserved.

If you're wise, you'll surrender to its will,
having faith your hearts will get their fill.
You'll know it's pure, only meant to be enjoyed,
That it can never be created or destroyed.

Here, Marty opened his eyes to gaze into hers, and Rory had to force herself to breathe.

And if you're me, you'll love with your whole heart.
Yes I know, I'll love with my whole heart.

The song ended with one slow strum. In a low voice, he continued his explanation. "See, and then I was going to set aside the guitar, like this. And then I was going to kiss you, like this." Marty cupped her neck with one hand, covered her hand with the other, and brought his lips to hers. "And then I'd say, 'I love you, Rory.'"

She kissed him again and played along with the do-over. "And then I'd say, 'I love you, too, Marty.'"

He pulled back and looked in her eyes again. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot. You just beat me to the punch and it threw me off."

"I don't care anymore," Rory laughed.

Marty smiled, relieved that the crisis was over. "I kind of wrote that song for you."

"Marty!" she gasped, admonishing him.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'What?' You just told me a bold faced lie!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You were singing that song our first morning here."

"You remember that?" Marty asked with a smug grin.

"Of course I remember. So busted, buster!"

"I'm not busted. I wrote it for my dream girl. I just didn't know she was you when I was writing it."

Her playful scowl fell from her face, touched by his words. Not knowing what to say, Rory pulled him closer and kissed him passionately.

"I'm pretty sure I just won that argument," he gloated.

"Shush, you, or I'll put you back in solitary."