Rory sure was glad she didn't bring Sylvie along to see this.

As she went through the front door, the sights that welcomed her were gruesome. The hallway was blackened, there was almost nothing left of the wooden furniture. She was afraid to even look at the kitchen.

She carefully climbed the staircase, her hand colored black from sliding on the railing. It seemed that the fire had already damaged the second floor by the time the firefighters managed to contain it. She held back tears as she walked into Sylvie's room, where the fire had apparently consumed most of her toys and books.

Her room suffered less damage - which wasn't a great comfort, since it got it pretty bad too. Most of her belongings were gone, but some of the furniture, while covered in appalling dark powder, were intact, her desk included. She treaded carefully, repressing her hope that in the top drawer, under a block of yellow papers, she'd find-

Yes. There it was. All 470 pages of it.

She carefully collected the pages, and as she was walking out she noticed that Sylvie's copy of Carroll's 'Sylvie and Bruno', a gift from Andrew for her fourth birthday, was peeking from another drawer, seemingly in a relatively good condition. Rory was glad she could at least bring Sylvie something back from their house, no matter how small.

She climbed back down the stairs, her head filled with thoughts of insurance and replacements at work in the Stars Hollow Gazette, while her hands firmly clutched the printed pages. She took one look at the burnt kitchen, and decided that she was right about not wanting to see it before. With a deep sigh and a final view, she walked out and closed the door behind her, holding her head high as she walked the paved path back to the street.

"Well, Paul Keller, I guess you finally did it," a familiar voice came from behind her. She froze, then turned to meet a pair of big brown eyes, shining with slight humor and deep empathy.

"Jess," she exhaled. "I… Our house…" She had trouble finding the words. He nodded, careful not to make her feel as if she was embarrassing herself in front of him.

"I heard. I'm really sorry about that." His eyes didn't let go of hers. There was something mesmerizing about them, she always thought so. "But I bet your mom and Luke are taking pretty good care of you two. How's Sylvia taking all this?"

Hearing him pronounce her full name was strange, but then again, the last time the two of them met in person she was about 10 months old and drooled all over his shirt. Not exactly the most developed relationship. "She's alright, for the moment. She's at Lane's, probably helping Steve prank Kwan or something."

"And how are you taking all this, Courtney?" He used her nickname from years ago, receiving a weak smile in response. Her eyes seemed weary, tiny wrinkles around the bright blue suddenly visible.

"I just can't believe this is happening," She replied quietly, her voice crackling with sheer honesty. He nodded again.

"Let me invite you for lunch," he offered.

"That's really nice of you, but we just ate." Rory said, and he smirked knowingly.

"I mean, the other kind of lunch." He implied, hoping she'd remember the conversation he was referring to, years ago. She didn't fail him, mirroring his half-smile.

"Ah, a daytime drinker. That's my kind of man," She commented playfully, not completely sure where did all this flirty attitude come from.

"You look like you need it." He challenged her. "Come on, Rory. Let's catch up."

"Yeah." She smiled. She could have sworn there was electricity running in the air between them. "Come on, Mister Big Shot Writer guy. Get me drunk at 1 PM like one of your French girls."

"Ooh, Titanic," he said. "Pulling out the heavy guns already, are we?"

Rory smiled. For a brief moment, she felt seventeen again.


"Do you remember how last time we day-drank I told you I didn't have any underwear?" A slightly tipsy Rory couldn't help but snicker. "So now I really don't have any underwear. All gone."

"Well darn it, Ms. Gilmore," he smirked and took another sip of his beer. "Sounds like quite the pickle, if I may say so myself."

"Oh, you may, mister."

"Is that all you could salvage?" He gestured towards the book and the pages.

Rory moved uneasily in her chair. "Yeah."

"What is it?" He asked, evidently somewhat curious.

"Well, it's one of Sylvie's books."

"Sylvie and Bruno. A truly underrated classic," He approved. "And what's with all the paper? Something for the Gazette?"

"Um, no, not exactly." Rory felt herself blushing, but something in her heart kept pushing the words out of her mouth. "Actually, it's the book. My book. Gilmore Girls."

Jess's eyes widened as he took in the amount of pages lying on the table between them. "I thought you ditched that when you found out you were pregnant." He spoke quietly, almost carefully, as if he was afraid she might flee.

"Well, it figures." She mumbled. "Since that's what I've told my mom, so I guess that's what she told Luke, and I guess that's what he told you."

"Well, Yeah," he seemed highly focused. She knew that look. "Why have you been hiding it?"

"I guess I…" Rory looked down, embarrassed. Here she is, sitting across the table from her successful writer of an ex, admitting she was too afraid to share her writing, even with her mom. "I guess I wasn't confident in it." She completed the thought, and avoided his eyes with another swig from her glass.

"You're a pretty great writer," he said, and she could feel him working hard to regain eye contact with her. "You always have been."

She finally caved and looked him in the eye, fierce brown meeting timid blue. "It's so personal, Jess," her voice barely above a whisper. "What if people hate it? It's literally my entire life before Syl came along."

She could see he was very carefully choosing his next words. "Rory," something about the way he said her name made her heart open up to him. "You know… I'd be happy to read it. If you'll let me. I've read dozens… maybe even hundreds of books for Truncheon. I know what's worth printing and what's not. And I promise I'll be honest with you. If it sucks, I'll tell you it sucks."

She felt as if the offer itself was flowing through her veins, electrocuting her from the inside. "Yes," She blurted, surprising even herself with the instant reply. "I would like for you to read it, please."

Jess nodded, and she pushed the thick pile of pages towards him. The two shared a moment of silence, both acknowledging the weight of what just happened.

"I should go," Rory said, cutting the tension as it got too intense. "Thanks for the drink, Jess, and thank you for…" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, the words got stuck in her throat. He simply nodded that nod of his, and she felt her pulse in her neck. Blushing, she all but ran away, to pick Sylvie up from Lane's house.