By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it.

She watches him from a distance, trying to work the nerve to approach the bridge. He senses she is somewhere near, but he doesn't look for her. He'll wait. He's waited all this time, he's gotten quite used to it.

She puts on her mother's shoe sale face, and walks forward firmly, clutching the books with both hands crossed over her chest. She's right behind him, but she cannot find the words to speak. He used London's words. Where would she find hers? She sticks out the book.

"What was this about?"

He turns around and looks at her.

"You understand Ayn Rand and you're telling me you can't understand London?"

"I mean the note."

"Also London."

"But…I…I…"

He stands up, looking her straight in the eye.

"Rory, you don't have to say anything. It's okay. I just needed you to know how I felt. I already know how you feel now."

Did he, she thought to herself. How? She couldn't find the words. She searched her mind for them but all that raced in there were memories of the bridge. Finally, the memory, the memory she fought so often, came to her and she opened the floodgates and let it pour forth. She kissed him, and in that kiss were all her words. He understood and kissed her back expressing all the things even London could not.

They pull apart, not knowing what to do with their eyes now, so they turned them to the lake.

"They start working in two weeks," Rory finally says.

"Yup."

"This is all going to be gone."

"Hmm."

Jess pulls out a Swiss knife from his pocket and bends down on the bridge. He digs between the planks and pulls out a small stone.

"Here," he hands her the stone.

"What's this for?"

"Throw it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I figured it'd make you feel better. That way when the bridge and lake are gone, you'll know the rock is still under there. I don't know. I guess it's stupid."

She throws the rock into the lake.

"I do feel better."

"Yeah. Me too."

The End.

A/N: Too corny? Sappy? Stupid? I told you, this was not my style. If this story bitterly disappoints and you don't understand what I was trying to do read next author's note for further information.