Chapter Fifty-One

Jess knocks once and slips into his bedroom, ready to leave for Connecticut.

"Are you ready to—" He trails off, finding Rory standing in her underwear, contemplating a pile of clothing spread out on the bed.

She shakes her head mutely, picking up her brown skirt, only to put it immediately back down. "I can't decide what to wear." She tells him, her voice rising with a hint of panic.

He leans against the dresser, wondering how she's managed to accumulate such a large supply of clothes given she's usually only here for two days at a time every few weeks. "If you don't want to change you could always just add some wings and go strut after Gisele. Might be kind of cold though."

"The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show was last month," she mumbles distractedly.

"It was?" He asks, making a note to tell Matt, who will be eternally disappointed.

"Justin Timberlake sang and Mom made multiple cracks about how she wasn't aware sexy ever left." She picks up a pair of dark jeans, holding them against one of her brighter shirts. "I don't know why I'm so stressed about this."

He eases the clothes out of her hands. "So don't stress about it."

She wrings her hands, walking to the other side of the bed and throwing aside several dresses and a skirt. "It's stupid but I just…I feel like it'll be less awkward if I'm wearing the right clothes."

"It's going to be awkward regardless, you may as well wear something comfortable."

"Like what?" She protests, flinging a dress on the floor in frustration.

"You seem to like my shirts."

"To sleep in," she points out.

"Hey it was just a suggestion. What about a dress?" He gestures to the pile she just threw aside. "Those are comfortable, right?"

"Depends on the dress," she answers thoughtfully, absently fingering the hem of one on top.

"I'm a fan of that backless one," he mentions.

She looks up with a hint of a smile. "I've noticed. But I think formalwear is a little inappropriate for this, don't you?"

He pouts.

"Okay, you're officially not helping."

"Sorry." He comes to stand behind her, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, he trails a hand down her back, stopping at the spot where she always seems to carry stress and kneading it gently with his thumb.

She sighs, resting her head back against his shoulder.

"Jess?" She says after a second.

"Hmmm."

"If you keep doing that we're going to be late."

He kisses a stray freckle on her shoulder. "Let's be late."


An hour later, Rory wraps up her laptop cord, giving Jess's room a last look to make sure she packed everything. She feels sad to leave this time, even though she's taking Jess with her. Despite its auspicious start, she's had a blast helping out with the zine all week and organizing Regan's launch party. The book looks like it's going to be a success, which has put all three guys in spectacular moods.

Rory shoulders her bag and walks into the living area, where Leo is sitting on the couch, mumbling things under his breath as he tries to write.

"Jess, I'm ready," she calls, poking her head into the bathroom where he's fussing with a leaking faucet.

"Two seconds."

"Merry Christmas, Leo," she chirps, peering over the couch as she walks into the kitchen. Grabbing an old receipt, she scrawls a note for Celia on the back with Lane's phone number.

"Yeah, you too," Leo answers, looking up. "Enjoy the solid gold Foxy necklace, Jess bought you with his bonus."

Rory laughs, pinning the receipt on the fridge where Celia can't miss it.

"You're not funny," Jess yells from the bathroom.

"Oh, sorry did I give too much away?" Leo jibes back. "I didn't want to ruin the surprise for when she opens up the Shania Twain tickets."

Jess comes out of the bathroom, picking up his duffle bag. "Yeah, we're leaving now."

"Bye Leo," Rory chirps, moving to follow him. "Tell Celia I left a phone number for her on the fridge and I really think she should consider it."

"I'll tell her. Have fun with your new jet skis," he calls after her.

"Jet skis?" She pipes. Half intrigued, yet at the same time utterly horrified, she hurries down the stairs. "Jess!"


Rory swallows nervously as Jess pulls the car through the gates outside Honor's house and parks it at the end of the driveway. Agent Martin, having ridden with them to their designated location, slips back outside the gates to wait for his ride back to the Philadelphia headquarters.

"Thank you for coming with me." Rory comes around the car, immediately reaching for Jess's hand. "I owe you huge for this."

"You needed a ride." He wraps an arm around her waist, the two of them ambling up the long driveway. "And if I dared to show my face in Star's Hollow without you they'd probably run me out of town with Christmas trees and giant candy canes."

"Oh so now the truth comes out," she teases snuggling against him. "You're dating me for my protection, aren't you?"

"Yeah, you're the Kevin Costner to my Whitney Houston," he drawls. He leans over to kiss the top of her head. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

At the front door, Rory rings the bell, biting her lip anxiously. She hasn't been here since Honor came back from her honeymoon last year and invited she and Logan over for dinner. The whole evening had been incredibly unpleasant. They'd had terrible fight in the car, over something so stupid she can't even remember, and they'd arrived mutually sullen and irritated. As soon as dinner started Honor got into it with Logan about how he was drinking too much, which of course made him drink more, and they left early.

"You okay?" Jess asks, toying with the end of her scarf.

She snaps out of her less than pleasant reverie.

"Yeah." She takes a deep breath. "Just nervous." She glances at the clock on her phone. "And late," she adds.

He smirks slightly. "My fault."

"Slut," she chortles, nudging him.

"Harsh," he feigns, nudging her back.

"It's not my fault there's no good male words," she protests.

"We'll make some up," he assures her, touching her elbow tenderly. "Tell me when you want to go and we'll ram my car through those gates if we have to, okay? "

She smiles slightly just as the door opens.

"Rory!" Honor exclaims warmly, pulling her immediately into a hug.

Rory hugs her back, her anxiety melting away in the company of her cheery former friend.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Honor lets her go, ushering them into the foyer. Jess throws a sidelong look at the ugly fountain in the middle of the foyer and turns his attention back to Honor.

She holds out a hand, looking him over. "You must be the boyfriend."

"Jess," he says simply, shaking her hand.

Honor smiles, tossing her blonde head. "It was nice of you to come with her. Here, let Tara take your coats." She gestures to the maid hovering in the doorway who quickly takes Rory's pea coat and Jess's leather jacket.

"So Agent Moore is waiting in the other room but—"

"He doesn't want me in there?" Jess finishes for her. "I figured."

Honor smiles ruefully. "It's stupid, I'm so sorry."

Jess shrugs. "Not your fault."

"We have a library you can wait in if you want. Are you hungry? I can have Tara bring you something to eat."

He shakes his head. "I'm good. Point me where you want me."

"The library is right down the hall here," Honor says, gesturing. "Just take a left and then a right and it's the…second door on the left."

"See you soon then." He gives Rory's arm a comforting squeeze and lets Honor usher her away.

Furtively, Jess wanders the hall, finally noticing a slightly cracked door that he thinks Honor indicated as the library. He slips inside, feeling wildly uncomfortable wandering around this stranger's house. Perhaps it's his dirt-poor upbringing or maybe just his innate pragmatism but he finds most rich people's taste completely gaudy. Who the hell needs a fountain in the middle of their foyer?

Or…he realizes he's standing in a room made almost entirely of glass…a solarium.

"Hello," a soft voice says from behind him. Startled, his head whips around. There's a woman perched on the edge of a wicker chair, an open sketchbook propped up against her knee. At her feet, a plush blanket is spread across the floor, an infant lies on its back, cooing at the sky visible through the glass ceiling.

"Sorry I—" Jess hooks a finger towards the door. "I was looking for the library."

"It's across the hall," she answers, continuing to outline something with her pencil.

"Thanks." He turns to go.

"You're Rory's boyfriend, right?" She cut in, peering up from her sketchbook.

"How do you know—?" Jess starts, puzzled. "You're Gwen." He lets out, finally putting the pieces together.

"Guilty."

"Why are you…?" He glances from her to the door and back again.

"Staying with my sister-in-law?" She finishes for him. "Or just in this room in general? If you're looking for anything more complicated than that, you're asking for a debate on existentialism that I'm definitely not going to win."

"Both?" He snorts.

Her mouth twists and she makes an audibly loud scratch across the page with the edge of her pencil. "I'm here because my husband decided French wine was more appealing than coming home for Christmas and I'm not in there because Rory's in there discussing it with Honor."

She's blunt but there's no whine in her matter-of-fact statement, just the bald-faced facts. He regards her for a moment, appreciative of her frank attitude. Rory's always been quick to come to her defense, but he'd chalked that up to her own experience as the other woman rather than any particular fondness for Gwen.

Now that's he's standing in front of the other woman though, he realizes he maybe should've given Rory more credit.

Gwen hardly fits the bill for the vapid, slow-witted, and generally unremarkable person he expected. He can't really account for her tastes but she's obviously clever and exceedingly pretty. Her facial features are quite delicate, almost birdlike, but not in a sharp beaky sense. She wears her blonde hair, definitely highlighted, pulled up into a haphazard bun.

"I don't see why you shouldn't be in there," he throws out. "I don't know about you but Rory's not really the type to leap over a table and claw someone's eyes out." The image itself is so absurd he can barely even fathom it.

"I'm not either," Gwen confirms. "But Honor thought it was best if we didn't see each other and I can argue with her till I'm blue in the face but I can't do much about the fact that the FBI agreed with her, so here I am."

"Morons."

She snorts at his remark, making another long mark on her page. "You may as well wait for Rory in here," she tells him, gesturing to the wicker loveseat across from her, "unless you like sitting on Legos that is. My brother-in-law went a little overboard in the library yesterday."

"Legos?"

"Legos," she affirms. "Josh pulled out his old ones for Vanessa. She's way too little but it made him so happy and the poor guy has such a terrible time with all the adversity in this damn family so…" She gestures to the baby resting quietly on the blanket. "This is Vanessa by the way."

He glances down at the sleeping infant and carefully steps around her, not sure how he should react. Should he greet her? Should he just make a general comment? He sure as hell isn't going to talk baby talk.

"She's um…" He tries to say something polite but he isn't really sure what the appropriate phrase is so he trails off, feeling like an idiot.

Gwen laughs. "You don't spend a lot of time around kids, do you?"

"Not really," he answers simply.

He seats himself on the loveseat, pulling a book from his back pocket.

Gwen goes back to her sketch of Vanessa, watching him read out of the corner of her eye.

He's very precise, this guy, he moves purposefully, lacking the looping easy walk of the society boys she grew up with. She can see why Rory is attracted to him; he's good looking in a swarthy way, all angles and contrast. He'd fit well into the light of a 19th century painting, something tempestuous, a Delacroix maybe. Even at first glance he's about as different from Logan as a person could be, dark, quiet, focused. Sober, she adds with an internal cringe.

She looks down at her sketch, making a face at her failure to adequately capture her daughter. She's a much better student of art than she is an actual artist but she's begun to feel restless on her maternity leave. Vanessa's been much less fussy the last few weeks and she's finally found a nanny to step in, leaving her with sudden bouts of quiet, free time. Last week she became so fed up with bumping around her empty apartment, surrounded by Logan's things at every turn that she finally packed up and headed to Greenwich for Christmas earlier than planned.

It was probably for the best. They need to decide what the hell to do about Logan and they need to do it soon.

"May I ask you something?" She suggests quietly.

He looks up from his book, blinking like someone who has just woken up. "What was that?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you…why is Rory suddenly wants to see Honor? I mean Colin told me that Logan was calling her but he and Finn flew out to Paris and I thought even if they failed at everything else that at the very least they'd make him stop." She sighs. "Every time I talk to Colin he says he's got it under control but he clearly doesn't. Logan won't even talk to me."

Jess shakes his head with disgust. "Tweedledee and Tweedledumbass keep calling and guilt tripping her and when they wouldn't listen she finally decided to just go to Honor herself."

Gwen can't help but chortle, which feels like a welcome reprieve. "Tweedledee and Tweedledumbass?"

Jess just shrugs. "They pissed me off."

He doesn't usually feel protective of Rory; provided she's not in any physical danger, she can hold her own, but when one of the jackasses made her cry on the phone the other day he swears he felt something inside him snap.

"I'm sorry," she tells him sincerely. "I wish they'd have just told Honor and I. I think Colin's trying to protect me from it, probably on account of Vanessa—not that he should," she adds hastily.

Jess bites back a snort of derision at this, the fact they assume she can't handle hearing about it purely because she has a child and yet continue drag Rory into something she has no reason to be a part of makes his blood boil. "You think you're gonna go to Paris?"

She nods, putting her sketchbook aside and sitting down on the floor with the baby. "I want to," she explains, playing with Vanessa's tiny feet. She coos happily up at her mother in response. "The problem is that I can't take her with me," Gwen explains, tenderly brushing back a piece of fine baby hair on her daughter's forehead.

"Why not?"

"There's no time to get her a passport. Plus I don't think I can chase Logan all over Paris with an infant in tow."

"You really think you're going to have to chase him all over Paris?" He asks thoughtfully.

She snorts. "Have you met Logan?"

Jess winces. "Unfortunately."

Gwen doesn't look up, instead fussing with the edge of Vanessa's blanket. "He was less than charming?"

"He was a belligerently drunk jackass," he informs her scornfully, remembering the incident with Rory's eye.

Gwen goes quiet for a moment and he immediately regrets his rancor.

"I'm sorry," he adds after a second. "I didn't mean to be so harsh."

"It's fine," she lets out quietly. "It's true," she adds with a bitter laugh. "He can be a royal jackass when he wants to be. And if he was always like that maybe it would be easier to just…"

"Let him fall off the face of the earth?" Jess suggests, watching her face with a keen writer's eye. There's something about her expression that reminds him of when he visited Rory that ill-fated night in Hartford. A fleeting moment of loneliness that settles over her like a wave, only to fade out seconds later with the tide; it makes him wonder what it is about Logan Huntzberger that leaves the women in his life looking so unequivocally lost.

Gwen nods, sniffing. "Yeah. It's just… I've known him since I was a little kid. I know he can be difficult and belligerent and elitist, but he can also be so….charismatic I guess is the word. He used to just have this crazy sense of joie de vivre, you know?"

"I don't. But I know Rory."

Gwen looks at him questioningly.

"I figure if he was a completely worthless human being, Rory wouldn't care enough to insist on coming here and talking to Honor."

"You really think that?" She picks up Vanessa, holding her against her.

He shrugs. "I'm here, aren't I?"

They lapse into silence until the door creaks open, revealing the curious face of Tara the maid.

"Mrs. Huntzberger?" She asks squeakily. "Have you seen—oh there you are." She looks down, having spotted Jess.

"Tara, I told you, just call me Gwen," Gwen insists.

"Right well they're done in the sitting room and Miss Gilmore was looking for—" She looks at Jess, unable to remember his name.

He stands, shoving his book in his back pocket. "I'm ready."

"This way." Tara skitters aside holding the door open for him.

He throws Gwen a last look as he steps around her and Vanessa and she gives him a wordless nod in return, an understanding passing between them, two strangers, caught in the fading light that was once Rory and Logan's relationship.


As soon as Jess leaves, Gwen settles into the couch with Vanessa, carefully arranging them so she can feed her while she waits for Honor. Staring out at the wintry scene through the windows, movement towards the end of the driveway catches her eye. Rory and Jess are heading towards the car, their dark heads bent together in conversation. The wind comes up, scattering the stagnant snow and Rory's red scarf suddenly whips in the gust. She tries to grasp it, her chestnut hair streaming behind her; if only for a moment, Gwen is reminded of Waterhouse's illustration of Shakespeare's Miranda, who stands on the shore, watching a shipwreck in the tempest.

Sorry again for the delay everyone, I hope you like the chapter! It's been mostly done for a while now but I kept fussing with it. Thanks for your patience and for reading/reviewing/ following and favoriting! So glad everyone is still enjoying! More soon!