Title: Peer Pressure

Summary: Fourth installment in the WHW series. A Trory, of course. And, you know a billion other pairings.

Rating: T, for teen. Because there are so many of them running about.

"Jasper!" Rosa called after him as he giggled manically, threw open her bedroom door, and flipped the switch to illuminate his path. He seemed to be making a beeline for her top dresser drawer, but he stopped suddenly, nearly tripping on his own feet when he saw a curled up figure lying on the bed.

"I'll paint your nails, but only if my underwear goes untouched," she followed him into her bedroom, crashing into him as he'd stopped dead in his tracks halfway into her room. He'd indeed been making a move for her dresser drawer when he saw the curved lump under Rosa's covers.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or has alcohol finally cleared my vision to see my dreams coming true?" he whispered to Rosa, as if he were afraid to make the vision disappear.

"Go away, Jas, let me handle this," Rosa pushed him toward the door, but his sense of balance was shifted about six inches to the opposite side, and she ended up stopping him from falling to the floor.

"I want to check on the girl," he pleaded. "She likes me, and you know it."

Rosa giggled softly. "Fine. Check to see if she's breathing, then gently remind her that she has her own bed and I'd like to use mine," she kissed Jasper's cheek and exited the room quietly.

Jasper got to his knees and crawled over to the bedside. It was easier to move closer to the ground in his inebriated state. He blinked a few times to gather his wits and attempted to erase the rays of light that seemed to be emanating from her form. He put his hand to her back and whispered.

"Ella?"

He heard a slight sniffle and sob muffled by the pillow in response.

"Darling, I'm going to join you, but if you don't want me to, you must tell me now. If you push me off the bed, it might end in my needing medical attention, and my mother will have my hide if I wind up in the hospital," he explained.

After a moment of quiet shaking, he put drew his hand up and down the length of her shoulder blade. "Ella?"

She nodded and turned her head to show him her bloodshot eyes and red nose. She'd evidently been in here quite some time, working herself up into quite a state of misery.

He climbed up onto the mattress, lightly brushing her hair back off her face, peeling strands that had become adhered with her tears to her skin in the past few hours.

"You want to talk about it, love?"

She shook her head. He nodded. "Alright then, just lay here and cry your eyes out, and if Rosa tries to kick you out of her bed, I'll threaten to tell her mother where she was last summer when she was supposed to be flying to Seattle for her cousin's wedding," he soothed.

"Wh-what?" she asked, her sobs still coming through her interest.

Jasper smiled. "We all have our secrets," he nodded. "Well, except me. I'm an open book," he shared. "Go on, ask me anything."

"Are you drunk?" she asked, easily able to smell the alcohol on his breath at this close vantage point.

"Just a smidge," he made a face. "Perfectly capable of being in bed with you," he nodded.

Ella scooted away from him a bit. "I don't really feel up to," she looked away, clearly uncomfortable at the insinuation.

"Bit more drunk than I thought," he seemed to be telling himself more than her as he shook his head. "I meant only that I'm fine to be here, taking care of you."

"You don't need to, I mean, it's nice of you, really," she sniffed.

"Tell me what happened. I'm a very good listener," he assured her.

Ella considered his words, and shifted back toward him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited.

"I came back from getting coffee, with Pax, earlier. We'd been out getting our books," she explained. "When I got back, Billy was here. We got into a fight and broke up," she sniffed.

"Oh, Ella," he stroked her hair. "I'm sorry."

"It was coming, but still," she started crying harder again. "He thought I was cheating on him, and I got so mad."

"Go ahead and let it out," he patted her back. "Why are you in Rosa's bed?" he queried.

"There was a sock on my door handle when we got back to the room the first time," she explained, still through fresh tears.

"Right," he cringed, with his arms still around her, letting her cry into him as they laid there in silence.

Rosa had her ear to the door, alongside Pax. He cringed when Ella revealed the events of the evening after he left her room. Not so much at her words, but more because Rosa smacked him in the chest at the revelation.

"Ow," he whispered.

"I can't believe you! She had a boyfriend!" she reiterated.

"Coffee! We had coffee! It's not like I took her back to my room," he defended.

"But you wanted to!" she accused.

"I don't need to go sniffing around girls with boyfriends, if you recall I've got plenty of perfectly single girls to choose from," he reminded.

"I've seen how you look at her," she nudged him.

"How do I look at her?" he challenged.

"Like she's this present under the tree that you aren't allowed to open until Christmas, and it's only the 20th of December."

He narrowed his eyes. "Well, even if your analogies for the insane were true," he took a breath, "I believe I've been beaten to the punch," he gestured to the closed door where Jasper was consoling the girl.

"Yeah. I've seen how he looks at her, too," Rosa gave a sad smile. "Hey, there's always me," she teased.

He kissed her forehead. "I've never had a better offer," he smiled as he walked away from the door, not wanting to hear the soft words exchanged on the other side.

XXXX

Jess was still napping when his son came through the door loaded down with movies. Gwen shut the door behind him, carrying bags of popcorn and Milk Duds. They shared a look, and Gwen smiled to herself as she dropped the bags in the kitchen and crept over behind the couch. Ambrose had set the movies down on top of the DVD player and watched her movements. She leaned down to Jess' ear and gave a soft, nearly inaudible, whisper.

His eyes snapped open instantly as his hand reached out for her. He blinked as he saw her smile, then he heard his son's chuckle.

"Movie time," she smirked.

"You're an evil, evil woman, and I'm holding you to that," he looked her full on in the eyes.

"Not in front of the kiddies," Ambrose pleaded. "Seriously. I'm very impressionable."

"Besides, if you come with me and prove your little statement, you'll have a much better time," Jess ignored his sarcastic son.

"Why? You plan on talking through my movies?" she asked.

"Damn straight. Jules filled me in on the atrocity you two have planned for this little gathering."

"We have to figure out if they're the same person! We did some research, and did you know they've never been seen together in public?" she asked.

Jess grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her over the back of the couch. She fell on top of him, laughing.

"Maybe I should go get Jules," Ambrose begged off.

"Finally, one of my kids does something I'm proud of," he said, pulling her head down to meet his in a kiss. She returned the affection, lingering in the moment as long as they wanted.

"How was your trip?"

"Successful. I'm sure by now the make-up sex has commenced."

"What happened, anyway?"

Jess sighed. "Tristan got a job offer. Thing is, he has to move out of New York. Rory freaked, and it was my job to talk her down into a state of capacity to speak about it with him."

"Wow. So, they're gonna move?"

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Maybe."

"Big stuff," she moved down to kiss him again.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked.

"Sure," she encouraged.

"How old were you, when you had your first boyfriend?"

She looked at him in surprise. "That's an … odd thing to ask."

"Jules told me she has a boyfriend," he informed.

"Oh," she looked down at his chest.

"I mean, she's fifteen. Isn't that a bit young?"

Gwen smiled. "God, you're such a dad."

"You'd prefer I acted more like a pimp?"

Gwen giggled instantly at the image. He worsened the situation with his hands moving against her sides in attempt to tickle her in retaliation for her laughing at him.

"I just meant she's old enough to have a boyfriend. I was fourteen when I had my first boyfriend. I'm sure it's very innocent and she's not at all in need of a pimp. And even if she were, I don't think she'd look to you," she ran a hand through his hair. "How old were you?"

Jess looked down off the side of the couch. "She asked me the same thing."

"And were you evasive with her?"

"I'm not evasive."

"Sure," she kissed his cheek. "Out with it," she prodded his chest.

"My first real girlfriend?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I was," he paused, looking at her in earnest. "Seventeen."

Her jaw dropped a little. "What, were you raised in a monastery?"

He snorted. "Hardly."

"Seventeen?" she clarified.

"Rory," he nodded.

"Wow."

"That's not to say that I hadn't been with girls," he widened his eyes in meaning.

"Oh. Right," she caught his meaning. "Not a one-woman man, were you?"

"Not exactly. I didn't have," he sighed. "You know, the best role models. I didn't really see a point back then. I was sort of out for pleasure, pain—whatever would be a better distraction."

"How old were you, when you started that?"

He looked up, as if looking for the answer above him. "Thirteen?"

Her mouth gaped open. "Damn. No wonder you're so good at what you do," she said in quiet amazement.

"Practice makes perfect, remember that," he nudged her with his nose into her cheek. "You okay with this?"

She looked into his warm brown eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I've never told anyone that," he admitted. "The kind of girls I was interested in since I starting giving a damn, I was always afraid it'd scare them off."

"Not afraid to scare me off?" she half-teased.

"Well, if my divorce and kids haven't yet, I figure you might be one to put up with this level of information."

"I like who you are, and I like knowing you. Whatever that entails. As long as it's true."

He moved up to kiss her, craning his upper body up to meet hers, holding her tightly against him as the kiss heightened in passion.

When he pulled back, he smiled. "You're sure you want to watch those movies?"

"Come on, I bought you Milk Duds," she looked lovingly into his eyes.

"Fine. But you're gonna owe me way more than Milk Duds," he vowed, letting her up to pop in the first of many DVDs, and they called for the kids to come out to a clear coast.

XXXX

"Congratulations!" Rory hugged Davey as they entered the crowded apartment. Tristan's arm never left her body as she moved in, and he slid his arm back around her waist as he shook Davey's hand.

"Thanks," Davey smiled. "You guys didn't have to come all the way up for this," he assured them.

"Oh, I think they had ulterior motives," Lorelai stepped in. "I see you two are all properly twitterpated again," she observed.

"We're good," Rory smiled.

"You two had a fight?" Will asked, moving up next to his sister.

"We're fine," Rory assured the growing crowd.

"What'd you do?" Anna asked Tristan.

"Why does it have to be me?"

"Dad, please," Jake said, moving toward his parents.

Rory and Tristan looked to their son, both their expressions growing more somber. "Jake," Rory frowned. "Can we, um, talk to you for a second?"

Davey watched as the family exchanged silent, yet loaded, glances. "Uh, you can use our room," he offered.

"Thanks," Tristan said as they moved out of the crowd and down the hall.

"What was that about?" Will asked his mother.

"What, like I'm omniscient?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head and smiled. "Just nosey."

She swatted at his backside, and he moved over behind Anna for protection.

"No, no, no way, you're on your own," she said, trying her best not to come between mother and son.

XXXX

"We're moving?" Jake asked, completely incredulous after his parents laid out the details the weekend had brought them.

"Maybe," Rory said, at the same time Tristan said, "Yes."

They exchanged a look.

"Which is it?"

"We're deciding, as a family," Rory explained.

"So, we all get a vote?" Jake asked.

"Yes," Tristan said.

"Oh," Jake said, his eyebrows furrowing. "What did Ella say?"

Rory and Tristan exchanged another look. "Well, it's more of a three person decision. Our moving won't really affect your sister," Rory said. "How do you feel about moving? Because I know changing schools in the middle of high school isn't easy," she said.

"Would we move to North Carolina or Boston?" he asked.

Rory looked to Tristan. "Raleigh," she smiled softly at him.

"I think we should do it," Jake said.

Rory looked at her son in shock. "You do?"

"You're sure?" Tristan asked.

"It might be good," he nodded.

"You don't have to decide now, we're not going to decide now," Rory assured him.

"You'd be changing schools, leaving your friends," Tristan reminded.

"Do you guys not want to go?" Jake asked.

"Well," Rory said.

"It's not that," Tristan continued.

"It's just a big change," she finished.

"Right. Can I go?" Jake pointed to the door, ready to leave his bewildered parents. Clearly they had more to discuss.

"Sure," Rory nodded. "We'll leave in another hour, so be ready."

Jake nodded and left his parents alone. As soon as he got out the door, his grandmother was on him like white on rice.

"So?"

Jake shrugged. "We're moving to North Carolina."

"You're—what?" she asked, grabbing hold of his shoulders for support.

"Uh-oh," Will whispered into Anna's ear and took off to his mother's side.

"I misheard you. Try again," she instructed.

"Dad got a job offer. He had to choose between Boston and North Carolina."

"Mom, calm down," Will said.

"They're not completely decided, but they seem to be leaning toward Raleigh."

"I need to sit down. No, I need a drink. I need to sit down with a drink," Lorelai said as she walked zombie-like to the kitchen.

"This is for real?" Will asked.

Jake nodded. "I'm gonna call Els, to see what all they told her. We never get all the information—they have this tendency to think they told us both everything when they tell each of us part of the story—I want to find out her end."

Will nodded as his nephew wandered outside to call his sister on his cell phone. Anna rested her head on his shoulder. "Your mom is doing snake bites and yelling at Nic Cage about how the babies are just going to grow up and leave him," she giggled. "Care to explain?"

"I think this means we have to live in Stars Hollow for a very, very long time."

"Excuse me?" Anna asked, sounding as if this was news to her. "You want to live in Stars Hollow?"

"You don't?" he looked down into her eyes.

"You want to live in a place where our parents will be traipsing around our houses freely? Did you learn nothing from Everybody Loves Raymond?"

"What's wrong with having family around?"

"Nothing, on holidays and nice long visits when everyone packs up and goes home at the end of the visit."

"We live in Stars Hollow now," he pointed out.

"And how many times have they intruded on our privacy already? The wedding stuff?" she reminded.

"Ann, they're just adjusting. We can tell them that now that we're getting married, they have to respect our boundaries and give the keys back."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You want to be the one to tell them all that?"

He looked at her for a beat. "Ann, come on," he said, gathering her into his arms. She held her torso stiffly as he attempted to coax her into agreement.

"Will, I'm serious."

"What do you want me to do? Start calling realtors in other cities? Is that far enough? You want to move to Seattle? Canada? How about putting a nice ocean between us and our relatives?"

"You're blowing this out of proportion," she warned, stepping back away from him.

"How am I supposed to take this kind of news? What's next, you want to tell me how many kids we're gonna have, where I'm going to work, and how many times a week we can have sex?"

"I'm sorry—clearly you have a grasp on the reality of this situation," she rolled her eyes.

"We're not married yet," he tossed back at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"It means I have opinions, about my life, and I don't want them dismissed because they don't fit into your plan!" he half-yelled.

"Can we do this somewhere else?" she lowered her voice, looking around as they began to draw attention.

"Why? So you can tell everyone later that I made you move?"

"We'd tell them it was a joint decision!"

"It's not! Don't you get that?" he didn't care how loud his voice was getting now.

"What I don't get is why I agreed to marry someone that wants to act like a complete jerk to me in front of a room full of people!" she yelled back before turning on her heel and exiting the apartment, storming past a bewildered Jake, and getting into her car.

XXXX

"What was that?" Ella asked, her tears still flowing. Rosa had stuck her head in to hand off her ringing cell phone just moments before, and now she sat up in her roommate's bed with a very attentive boy watching her facial expressions as she spoke to her brother.

"Anna, she seems pissed," he cringed as her tires squealed, allowing her to peel out of the parking lot. Will came to the door within a second, watched her car go, and then closed the door; blocking out the noise of the party yet again.

"Did Mom make you call?" she sniffed.

"No, but I am sort of calling about her and Dad," he admitted. "What'd you really say when they told you about the move?"

"The what?" she asked, believing she'd misheard him.

"The move to Raleigh," he said. "Or did you vote for Boston? Not that you'd care, but I guess it'd be a shorter commute to school for you," he said.

"Jacob, what are you talking about?" she used his given name in an act of endearment. She and her mother were the only two that ever got away with calling him by that name these days.

"Dad got a job offer—didn't they tell you?"

"No! They copulated in my room, then left!" she said.

"God! Els!" he complained.

"At least your bed isn't covered in sweat and sex," she said, "I mean, it'd be different if it were mine," she admitted.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now, this is beyond gross. I need therapy because of this conversation," he warned.

"You're telling me they're really going?"

"I think so—you okay?" he asked.

"Just, call me when you know for sure?"

"I will," he said. Billy got out of his car just then, looking at Jake with reservation. Jake held out his phone, mouthing Ella's name. Billy just shook his head and went into his brother's apartment, not saying a word.

"That was weird," Jake said.

"I know! Why didn't they tell me?" she asked.

"No, Billy. I offered him the phone, and he blew me off," he said.

"We … broke up," she managed.

"Els, I'm sorry. God, why didn't Mom tell me?"

"She doesn't know," she sobbed. "No one does. Just, don't say anything, will you?"

"I promise. I'll call you soon."

"Thanks," she said, closing her cell phone and letting it slip under the sheets as she clutched at the pillow, crying now harder than ever before. Jasper stroked her hair, and looked up at Rosa, who'd kept the door open in attempts to gauge the gravity of the situation.

"Let me try," Pax said, slipping into the room around his friend. He stood at the side of the bed, staring at Jasper, having a silent conversation. He looked to Ella again and sighed. "I can help," he promised quietly.

Jasper nodded. "Ella?" he questioned, but she continued to squeeze her eyes shut, as if to slow the stream of hot tears that were running down her cheeks. She seemed to be unaware of this changing of the guard and didn't even flinch as Pax slid into the warm spot created by his still slightly tipsy friend.

Once the door was shut, and he made a mental note to thank Rosa properly at a later date, he reached out hesitantly and stroked her hair back off her face, as Jasper had. His fingertips brushed her cheek, the grainy moisture covering the pads of his fingers.

"Bad news from home?" he asked.

She just nodded. She took several deep breaths to steady her emotions, but the idea of having no home to go back to—no place to seek out normalcy in this time of evidently total upheaval—it was too much for her to manage to calm down.

"You want to be alone?"

She turned just enough to grasp at the front of his shirt. "Could you stay?" she sniffed.

He nodded. "I came to tell you a story."

She looked taken aback and pleased, even through her still apparent pain. "A story?"

"Now, it's not one you can go spreading around," he preceded the beginning.

She gave a small smile, so he continued. "I have a small scar."

"You aren't gonna get naked, are you?" she teased, her tears slowing at this point. He reached out to wipe more tears from across her cheek onto his forefinger.

"Will that make you stop crying?" he asked.

She gave a blush, but stared into his eyes. She noticed how there wasn't even a hint of hazel in the green of his irises. She wondered if his dilated pupils made them seem darker, or if they lit up like emeralds in the light of day. She figured she wouldn't know, as they were in a dimly lit room—only one side lamp turned on when Jasper entered the room earlier.

"It's in plain view," he admitted.

"I don't see it," she sniffed back the last of her tears as she examined the expanse of his skin visible to her.

He pointed to his left eyebrow. She peered at the area, and raised two fingers to it, moving the hair around slightly, until she found a very faint pink line that was normally obscured and too invisible at any distance—probably from age.

He smiled at her interest. "I was four, and I had the chicken pox. My mom had put oven mitts on my hands, and then wrapped duct tape around the wrists. She kept telling me I'd thank her later, because I wouldn't have any scars," he imparted.

"That's not from chicken pox," she said, noting the difference in the very distinctive shape.

"Very true. But I was home, because they didn't want to infect any more kids," he said.

"You gave it to all the others?"

"I did. And they did their best to keep us apart, to reduce the inventive methods of scratching—Rosa and Grey had a particularly good system."

"Well, they are twins," she gave a small laugh.

"Exactly. Never underestimate that kind of link," he shook his head as if remembering something specific. "Anyhow, we were quarantined from each other for the first time, and I was bored. My parents tried to keep me busy, even going as far as my dad letting me play at his desk. I was trying to climb up onto the desk, but I had no grip strength," he held up his hands, as if she could see the oven mitts still in place.

"What happened?"

He sighed. "I lost my footing and fell, hitting my forehead on the corner of the desk. I screamed bloody murder and my mom came flying in, freaking out, screaming about her baby, and checking my head, then she broke every traffic law getting me to the hospital. By the time I was all stitched up, my mom had calmed down, my father had gotten there—and convinced her that I needed two real hands, and she promised to remove the oven mitts. The nurses all thought it was cute, though," he smirked.

"Charming the ladies at three years of age, were you?"

"From birth, I'm told," he shrugged modestly.

"Of course," she gave a small smile. "Why can't I tell anyone? No one knows?"

He shook his head. "By the end of the two weeks, when we were deemed 'healthy', my eyebrow had started to grow back over the scar a little, and I was so proud of not having any pox scars," he said.

"So, you never told your harrowing tale," she nodded. "Why'd you tell me?"

"Because you asked me to," he said. "Do you feel any better?"

She let out a sigh. "My parents are moving. To Raleigh. They're leaving our house behind—I won't have a room or a home," her face began to fall again.

"I'm sure they'll fix you up a room in the new house."

"But it won't be mine, it won't be the same. I can't go there and feel relaxed—I can't go home like I wanted to now, to make everything all better," she said. "I must sound like a stupid child," she swallowed.

"No, but Ella," he sighed. "This is the time of your life that you get to make your own home, out of friends," he explained. "So that no matter where you are, you always feel surrounded by love and comfort."

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh."

He smiled. "So, you want to stay in here, or head out and see if we can't help Rosa with Jas?"

"What about Grey?" she asked.

"Oh, he doesn't like to help with painting fingernails. Something about making him feel like less of a man."

She put her hand on Pax's chest. "I'm sorry—did you say Rosa was going to actually paint Jasper's fingernails?"

Pax smirked. "Just be glad she stopped him before he got to her underwear drawer," he tilted his head toward the door. "Come on, it'll be fun. I promise."

She threw back the covers, took his hand, and followed him into the main room, where she would entertain the notion of home.