A/N: Once again big thank you to all the wonderful reviewers! I know I haven't been replying to reviews lately and I'm so so sorry! I always read (and reread) your reviews and get so thrilled that people are still following. All your fantastic reviews are honestly the biggest motivation for continuing this story. So please, please keep them coming!

Chapter 16

'Rory, wake up.'

Rory snuggled deeper into her pillow and hoped she wouldn't wake up. Her drowsy mind thought she was dreaming Jess's voice at first. It wasn't that far-fetched, because though she would deny it vehemently if asked, he'd actually starred in most of her recent dreams. Dreams which had left her warm and flushed and in need of cold showers. All his fault, of course.

'Rory, Rory, Rory. Wake up.' His voice insisted softly. His breath tickled her skin, making her sigh. She heard herself humming as she felt cool lips on her cheeks, her ears, her hair. She was definitely enjoying this part of the dream. She felt a small sigh against her neck and then he was squeezing her waist and biting at the tip of her earlobe. The goosebumps made her flutter her eyes open.

'Hi.' He whispered gently.

'Hi.' She blinked at him, as his face sharpened into focus.

He was leaning next to her bed, his fingers brushing her hair back. He kissed her cheek again, and his wet hair tickled her forehead. 'Wow, you're a heavy sleeper.'

'Time is it?' Rory whispered groggily.

'Nine. I thought you always woke up early.' He said, an amused smile playing on his lips. His fingers came up to undo the first few buttons of her pajamas. 'Anyway, I was gonna let you sleep in, but we need to get going.'

Rory nodded slowly, watching his lips move but not really taking in the words. He smelled so good, his musky, spicy skin mixed with soap and deodorant. It was very distracting and suddenly, all she wanted was to pull him closer. Still partly dreaming, she swung her arms around his neck, laying her head against his shoulder. She heard him whisper at her to wake up again, but he made no attempt to untangle her away. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her up so she was half-sitting against him. When he started rubbing her back, she hummed in appreciation and burrowed deeper into his chest.

When a few minutes passed with her still clinging to him, he asked. 'Are you falling asleep again?'

'Your fault. I feel like I haven't slept in a week.' She murmured accusingly, still not lifting her head.

'Hey, don't blame me for that. You snuck out to see me these past 3 nights.' His hand was sliding up and down her hair as he talked.

Rory's eyelids drooped again. 'Me sleepy.'

'But I let you sleep last night.' He pointed out.

'I know. I missed you.' She crooned.

He murmured back. 'I don't believe you.'

'I did.' She insisted.

'You kicked me out when I came in.' He laughed softly.

'Mmm. You smell good.' She said in response.

He shook his head and squeezed her waist playfully. 'I should've just let the alarm wake you.'

She only tightened her arms around his neck in response.

'Don't you wanna know where we're going?' He teased, as he slipped a cool hand under her shirt and brushed a finger up her spine, making her shiver.

She lifted her head to meet his glinting eyes. 'Going?'

'At some point today, yes.'

'Going where?' She asked curiously.

'On a date.' He replied enigmatically. When Rory cocked her head, he continued. 'I won't tell you till you get dressed.'

She was about to protest again, when he ducked his body towards her nightstand. Next thing she knew, he was pushing a cup of coffee into her hand, almost like one of his magic tricks. The rich, heavenly smell made her smile. 'You know me way too well.'

'I know.'

'Rory, it really doesn't matter what you wear. Just wear anything.' Jess rested his head against Rory's closed door. Rory, who got dressed in less than 10 minutes on most days, had been in her room for about 30 minutes in what was slowly turning into an irrational frenzy. He checked the kitchen clock again and contemplated whether to make her some more coffee. He'd already attempted to help with the outfit crisis, by picking out a shirt from the largest pile on her bed, which she rejected resolutely. Then, he'd pointed out that he'd already seen her naked quite a few times, but for some reason, that had only horrified her further and led to him getting pushed out of her room.

'Like what? I have nothing.' Rory's dramatic reply came from the door.

'Wear… the blue shirt.' He suggested.

'That's what I wore to Luke's yesterday. I can't wear the same thing I wore to Luke's for our big date.'

'I never said anything about a big date. We're just hanging out.'

'Oh, nice try, Mr. Grumpy-before-noon-everyday-but-today-Mariano. You can't wake me up early on a weekend looking all excited and say we're just hanging out. We're going somewhere and something's going on and I need to dress up for it!' He could hear her pacing around, her voice getting higher and lower as she moved.

He rolled his eyes and said. 'Just when did I start dating Zsa Zsa Gabor?'

She ignored him. 'You're not even supposed to be here for this part of the dating process.'

'You don't need to –'

'If you'd just tell me where we're going, this would all be so much easier.'

'I've already seen you in –'

'I have nothing to wear.' Rory cut him off in frustration.

'Just wear the –'

'This is gonna take hours.'

'Rory –'

She groaned yet again. 'I can't decide if I don't know where we're going.'

'Ugh, fine, fine.' He ran a hand through his hair before he yielded. 'It's somewhere with… books.'

The door swung open rapidly and Jess, who'd been leaning his shoulders against it, nearly fell into the room. Rory's child-like excitement was palpable. 'We're going to a book fair? It's a book fair, isn't it?'

He sighed. 'Among other things, yes.'

She squealed, gripping his arms animatedly. 'Where?'

He gave up trying to maintain that part of the surprise. 'In New York.'

'We're going to New York?' She looked gleeful, grinning from ear to ear.

'And you're driving, so wear comfortable shoes.'

'I'm driving to New York?' She repeated in surprise.

'Only if you manage to get dressed.' He eyed the clothes piles strewn on the bed.

'Wait, but you said my mom agreed? She knows we're going to New York?'

'You know, I honestly think the blue shirt really is fine.'

'So you told my mom? And she really agreed?' Rory seemed incredulous and Jess could understand why. He wasn't the most talkative guy around adults and even if he'd talked to Lorelai, it was understandably difficult to imagine her agreeing that they go to New York together alone and in Jess's car of all things.

'She gave the Gilmore seal of approval.' Jess reassured, as sincerely as he could.

'And I'll be the one driving because…?'

'That was the condition for the seal of approval.'

'So you, Jess monosyllabic Mariano, went to my mom and actually asked her, with actual words? Days in advance?' Rory repeated.

'I could give you one of my shirts, if you really have nothing to wear.' Jess gestured to the living room.

A pause, then. 'Was she drunk?'

'Hmm?'

'My mom. When you asked her, was she drunk? 'Cause that's the only way she would've said yes.'

'Hey, a seal of approval is a seal of approval. Still, I'd rather we leave before she wakes up, so… you can either pick something or just wear my Distillers t-shirt, but either way, you only get 10 seconds to decide.'

'Wait, but are we –'

'9, 8, 7…'

'Jess!'

'6, 5, 4 …'

'Fine. Fine.' Rory threw her hands up in defeat. 'Distillers t-shirt. Comfortable shoes. Got it. I'll be right back.'

Lorelai woke to a quiet house and a sleepy laziness that accompanied days of laundry and house chores. She didn't usually get the house to herself and she realized she needed this break from the usual teenage angst downstairs. Now that she finally had the time she always wanted to herself, she couldn't think of much to do besides washing the bedroom curtains and cleaning out the inside of the fridge. When had her life become so… empty? No, maybe she'd call Sookie over for breakfast. Or maybe she'd call Luke and give him some updates about his nephew. He'd want to know his punk nephew was doing something other than the usual sulking today. That's definitely something to cheer her up from the prospect of doing laundry all day. Should she be doing Jess's laundry as well? She snorted as she pictured his horrified reaction. Now that would be fun to see. She'd probably do it if she didn't despise doing laundry so much.

As she sipped her coffee, silently thanking Rory for making a fresh pot this morning, she noticed something strange. Huh. Her kitchen jars had been relabeled overnight, with black, loopy letters that matched each jar's components. Somehow she doubted Rory was the one who'd done that as she shook her head quietly to herself. Teenage rebellion can sometimes be truly hilarious.

As Rory drove, she marveled at Jess's good mood. All morning, he'd been almost bubbly, smiling easily, flirting constantly, showering her with kisses and touches. She glanced at him as he switched the car cassette tapes and continued his passionate defense of Coldplay's latest album. But Rory was only half-listening as they debated whether Chris Martin's vocals could be more accurately compared to Radiohead or U2. Throughout last week, Jess had been pleasant and mostly even-tempered, but still, she had to wonder what had happened today to make him so elated. She realized that when he stopped holding back and filtering his words, Jess turned into someone who was almost charming. Talkative and sarcastic and witty.

It wasn't just the talking that Rory was enjoying, she liked that he would touch her hair absently while checking the map. That he would tease her for gripping the wheel too tightly whenever he ran his hand down her arms. That he wouldn't admit his socks were two mismatched shades of green. That he whistled along to the solo of her favorite Clash song. That she would catch him staring at her whenever there was a lull in the conversation, as if he was admiring his own t-shirt for the first time. She recognized the shift that'd happened between them over the past week; how easily they touched each other now, how smoothly the conversation flowed, how the time they spent together suddenly never seemed enough. It was both unexpected and so completely right. As she looked out into the vast stretch of road in front of her, she found herself wishing the drive wouldn't end.

A little over an hour into their drive, Jess pointed to a highway exit and led Rory to a small breakfast diner. Apparently, he'd discovered it when he'd gotten lost on the way back from Walmart once and the chilli fries had been good. After their third plate, Rory fully agreed. The French toast was sweet and crispy, although they both agreed Luke's pancakes were far superior. As they sat next to each other in the window booth, conversation flowed, as always, pretty easily.

'But they'd still have a translator, right? I'd guess even Christiane Amanpour didn't know every language.' Jess said, leaning towards her intently and bumping their knees slightly.

'Yeah, but they wouldn't always find one, especially with those spur-of-the-moment interviews,' Rory explained, grabbing a handful of French fries. 'And Christiane Amanpour already spoke three languages by the time she started working as a foreign correspondent–'

'You're not too far off then.'

'—I'm thinking if I learn enough French and Spanish to be fluent, I can probably cover news in a lot of the Spanish-speaking countries.' She let the words tumble over each other like she does when she's excited. 'I could travel around South America or Central America or the French-speaking parts of Africa. Oh, and I could report in Europe too. Great Britain, France, Belgium, Switzerland, Spain.'

Jess was nodding, smiling at her encouragingly as he nibbled on another French fry. 'And you already have a head start, with Chilton.'

'A bit. I took both Advanced French and Spanish. But it's not just the languages, the deadlines are insane–'

'—Wars are pretty time-critical –'

'—I'm still pretty slow. You'd need to write up articles really fast, but still keep them objective and interesting. If you take too long writing –'

'—you lose your edge.'

'Exactly. Some other journalist might be faster. And then you need pretty sharp instincts –'

'—Which you have.'

'—and experience in international politics plus some really good intuition, and that only comes from –'

'—from being street-wise. I can help with that.' He grinned.

She smiled back, pushing a strand of hair back. 'Or from having great mentors. People who know what it's actually like to be there and who know how to go after a story –'

' –without getting yourself hurt –'

' –but also not play it too safe and miss out on a great story. Like, Christiane Amanpour fought with the CNN to cover the war in Bosnia, when practically no one was interested. Then, she ended up winning so many awards for her coverage and helped change foreign policies within the US government.'

'That does sound badass.' He grabbed a few remaining fries.

'It does, doesn't it?'

He nodded, then tapped her hand knuckles with his fingers. 'Still, pretty sure you'd need some stress training.'

'Oh, here we go again.' She laughed.

'Hey, reflexes are important. And what better way to practice than to dodge a speeding car while someone's screaming at you in a foreign language –'

'—Which a certain someone's yet to learn.' Rory grinned.

'Or we'll go to a shooting range and –'

'—You wanna shoot at me, Mariano?' Rory pretended to be horrified.

'It's something I bet they don't teach you at your school.' He moved a bit closer, till his face was inches away from Rory's. His fingers were lightly running up and down her arms.

Rory felt her heart flutter at the proximity and she barely even heard her own reply. 'Well, lucky I'll have my own private security then when I'm a journalist.'

Jess's eyes gleamed, as he whispered against her lips. 'We could start your stress training today. You pick a really tall building in New York and we'll bungee jump off it.'

'Oh, really?' She whispered in amusement.

'You scared of heights?'

'No, but you'd have to jump with me.' Rory tilted her head to one side. Without being fully conscious of it, her lips brushed against his and her mind was very scrambled for a moment.

'You jump, I jump, Rose.' Jess said with a small smile.

They sat staring at each other for a while, studying each other's faces. The diner fell away, the music quieted down and there were only the two of them, staring in fascination. When Rory's hand slowly slid from his shoulder to his chest, Jess leaned forward to kiss her lips. The kiss was playful, a tease that promised more. Soft, then a bit more intense, then softer again. He'd pull back a little just as she leaned forward, or he'd lick her lips just when she was tilting her head back. Sometimes he'd do nothing more than brush his lips against hers. She could tell he was smug about his half-kisses and how they were slowly driving her insane. Craving more of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her legs onto his lap as discreetly as possible. Still, the kisses were only butterfly soft and his hands were barely touching her at all. Leaning forward, she was trying to pin him to the edge of the seat when her knee bumped the table, sending one of their breakfast plates crashing down into a dozen pieces. Rory quickly backed away, mortified and blushing at the impatient glare the diner owner gave them.

When she glanced back at Jess, he was staring at her in amusement and his eyes shone with a mischievous pride. 'Very smooth. Now come on, you have some more driving to do.'

Lorelai wandered into Rory's room and shook her head at the tornado that had evidently hit the closet. She tried not to feel disappointed that Rory hadn't woken her up for help with picking out an outfit. It was yet another small independence Rory had gained this year, getting ready for dates on her own. Was that an inevitable part of growing up? Or was it because of Jess being there? She felt a pang of longing for her daughter, all the younger versions of her. 3-year-old Rory who couldn't tie her shoes. 4-year-old Rory who needed help putting on her oversized raincoat. 12-year-old Rory who wouldn't sleep in bed alone on Halloween. 15-year-old Rory who needed her mother to hem her skirts and make her dresses for school dances. What did 18-year-old Rory need her for? What happens to them after that trip to Europe? The empty house was suddenly an awful reminder of the way things would be when Rory left for college. I'm not losing her. She'll come visit. She'll want to come visit. I hope.

In just a few months. Yale. Ivy-league glory... Expensive ivy league glory. Lorelai suddenly jumped up with a start, her mind jolting awake as she rushed outside. Why is it that she never remembers to check the mail on time? That letter must be here by now.

Sure enough, a small white envelope was sitting in their postbox. Yale Financial Office. The letter was bent slightly, almost pointing at her accusingly. Lorelai took a breath and opened the glaring envelope.

'No, no, no, no.' She swore under her breath.

Lorelai Leigh Gilmore. Financial Aid. Application rejected.

A/N: Sorry if this one feels too fluffy, I wrote these random scenes a while back and thought I should finally fit them into this... There's more plot in the next one though! :) As always, I'd really appreciate your reviews!