Disclaimer, rating and information about spoilers can be found in the first chapter.

Notes: For some reason I had the toughest time coming up with a title for this chapter. I turned to my C.D. collection (which has, unfortunately been borrowed from a fair bit lately, and much depleted, by various people, they won't read this but they need to quit ganking my music). So this title comes from Natalie Imbruglia's "One More Addiction." Lane and Dave are cringing at my selection, I now.

This chapter, as well as the next two I have written, are a bit on the short side and for that I'm sorry. It's just a little difficult to decide where things should be broken up. I don't want total cliffhangers, but I don't want the chapter wrapped up in a pretty bow, you know? This one in particular is a lot of dialogue, which I enjoy writing more than most other things. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far. I feel like I know what it's like to be a drug dealer. Heh.

Part Five: First the Good News, It's Gonna Feel Very Nice…

"What?" and now he was confused. Puzzled. Stupefied, even. By Rory's sudden change in demeanor, from frazzled to calm as much as her statement.

"I'm being so stupid," she said, tugging absently at the ends of her hair "this I know."

Dave stood up, facing her, but leaving a good two feet of linoleum between them. His heart was racing but his brain had kicked into slow motion. He couldn't comprehend what she was saying. "I seem to be having a brain malfunction so I have no idea what you're being. But I can't imagine that stupid is a possibility."

"And that, right there, is why this is all your fault," the anger flared as quickly as it had been extinguished and Dave became even more muddled.

"Spell it out, Rory. Using little, mini, cave man sized words."

"You're Lane's boyfriend."

"If we're labeling."

"I think, in this case, I have to."

"Then yes. I am Lane's boyfriend. And I feel a little demeaned. Like I'm nothing but a plaything. Have I not a name?"

Rory refused to smile, "And I'm her best friend."

"Now you're just stating the obvious."

"Stop that," Rory commanded, but without anything resembling anger in her voice, it lacked effect.

"Stop what?"

"Deflecting, first of all. Being funny, second."

"I can't help it. I'm nervous. I deflect and joke when I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"Why do I deflect and joke?" Dave played dumb.

"Why are you nervous?"

"I don't know," Dave lied.

And Rory knew perfectly well it was a lie. She'd let it go. But she wasn't going to make anything easier for him. Not when she was struggling so hard. "And you're in love with Lane."

"I care about her, yes," Dave answered carefully.

"Is that a deflection?"

"Yes," he admitted.

Rory smirked, "Didn't I tell you to stop that?"

"I thought I did. Love her, I mean."

"You thought you did? Past tense?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

Rory softened ever so slightly. He wasn't some womanizing egoist who had come to ruin her relationship with Lane. He was just a guy, a nice guy, and this (whatever 'this' was, if there even was a 'this') wasn't exactly easy on him either. Going all Spanish Inquisition on him in her kitchen didn't appear to be helping, anyway.

"Why did you come here this morning, Dave?" she began again, gentler, less crazed this time.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I didn't imagine a conversation like this."

"You imagined our conversation?" she questioned, charmed despite herself

"For the better part of yesterday," Dave admitted.

"Okay," Rory seated herself and Dave followed her lead. An expanse of chipped wood separated them. "And how did this imaginary conversation go?"

"Oh no. No, no," he protested.

"What?"

"You're asking all the questions. I'm doing all the work. That's hardly fair."

"I suppose your right."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Okay," Rory took a deep breath and attempted to collect her thoughts, "shoot."

"Are you in love with Jess?"

"Sheesh. Couldn't toss me an easy one, could you?"

"You're right," Dave said pointedly, "That deflecting thing is annoying."

"Fine, then," she pouted a little, and Dave tried not to notice her lips. "No. No I'm not. And I never really was."

Dave was genuinely shocked. That was quite a revelation. His whole line of questioning was royally screwed. Nonetheless, he had to continue, "Have you been avoiding me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I've done complicated. I'm not eager to jump into it again."

"Cave man words, Rory."

"You're different, Dave."

"Gee, thanks?"

"I mean it in a good way," Rory was tired all of a sudden. They were talking in circles. Endless circles. She was already sick of it. "I like that you're different. I like you."

"Oh."

"More than I should," she continued, ignoring his reaction, "because Lane is my friend. My very best friend, excluding my mother. And you're her boyfriend."

"Oh," he repeated again, less than eloquently. Rory Gilmore was full of surprises. She was brave. Braver than he was and at that moment, with that realization, he fell just a little bit harder than before. "Rory?"

But she was ignoring him again, studying a particularly fascinating chip in the wood, words coming faster. "And it's silly, I know. Me liking you. You have a girlfriend and she's my best friend and I would never be that kind of girl. Cheating is bad. And I'm a hypocrite because technically I cheated on Dean, but you would never do that because number one you…"

"Rory!" he said it louder this time and it got her attention.

"Yes?"

"Please shut up."

She opened her mouth to snap at him. To tell him no, she would certainly not shut up, because she was thinking seriously about betraying her best friend and besides, this was her house and who was he… but he had leaned across the table, hands braced in front of her and his mouth was covering hers and the words would not come out.

Oh.

Rory's eyes fluttered shut as he placed tiny kisses at the corner of her mouth and brushed his lips against hers fleetingly. She turned her face away and his lips skimmed her jaw, "Dave, we can't."

"I know. I know that I shouldn't. But then I shouldn't want to and I do. So much. More than I can ever remember wanting anything." His eyes held hers and his voice didn't waver. His words should have sounded corny, trite. Like a bad line in a romance novel, but they didn't. Because he meant them. "But, if you don't want his," he continued, "than that's it. I'll leave and we can forget I was ever here and go back to being friends. Or acquaintances, if you would prefer."

Had he just kissed her and not given her a choice she would have been able to push him away. Her loyalty would have overridden her own desires. But he had to go and give her the choice.

And she came to the fork in the road. On one path she bottled up every single more than friendly feeling she had had about Dave Rygalski and went on as if the past two weeks had never occurred, occasionally wondering what might have been. The second path was far less clear, but on it, she knew, lay something potentially wonderful.

So she made a conscious choice. Later she would realize that it had been made, by her evil, tricky, fearless subconscious, the second she had seen him sitting at her table.

Damn it.

She stood up slowly and Dave's face fell. He cursed himself and his gentlemanly tendencies. Thinking, and allowing others to think, in situations such as these (not that he had ever been in a situation such as this) was a very, very bad idea. Thinking led to reason. Reason led to doing the right thing. Even if "the right thing" felt terribly wrong. Dave straightened and prepared to be shown the door. Prepared to be given a heartfelt, but no less stinging, thanks, but no thanks speech. He didn't want to hear it. Not from her. He turned, planning on walking out the back door, when a hand, Rory's hand, griped his, effectively stopping his dramatic exit.

He turned back, to face her, to tell her that speeches weren't necessary, that he understood, and that yes, he really, really wanted to still be her friend, uncomfortableness be damned.

But she spoke before he could. "I guess this is about to get complicated." And then she kissed him.

Oh.