Disclaimer: I own the characters you don't recognize. Everyting else belongs to their rightful owner.

I searched the net. Rhiannon means either "pure maiden" or "goddess of fertility and of the moon." It's Gaelic, Welsh, and I love it. I'm gonna call my daughter that.

Jason is either Jason or Jase.

Erika is either Erika, Kyka or Kycks.

We step in the wide realm of AU. This chapter is bridging the distances from here to there, sinceI couldn't find a way to have Jess open up to Rory about his past. I think the guy went through enough gut spillage as it is. Hence, I had the past come to him, forcing him, for want of a better word, to speak to her while coming to terms with it.

Chapter 8: A Pure Maiden From the Moon.

I'm hating you. Whomever you might be, whatever you could possibly want. I. Hate. You.

These words chant through Rory Gilmore's head as she reaches the door, smoothing out clothes and finger combing a hopelessly tangled mass of chestnut soft curls she'd like to call hair.

It could be anybody in Stars Hollow, no option being too far fetched, and for every one she has an automatic response stashed in the emergency file her mind is so busy retrieving...

It could be her mother, on a trip home to shake off the ugly inn-derived feelings, and seeking a mother-daughter talk with her.

But I really don't want her to be home right now. That conversation can wait, so I can prepare...

It could be her father, on one of his spur of the moment "let's play happy families" trips.

But I'm really not up to that.

It could be Lane, asking for freedom, or girl talk, or boy problems.

Seeing as my boy problem is standing half naked in my living room, that could be interesting.

It could be Paris during one of her "I'm going to fail all of my classes, and I'm holding you responsible for that if you don't study yourself into oblivion with me all afternoon!" meltdowns.

But I'd much rather study something else. She can almost hear her mother yelling. Dirty! Well, I was having dirty thoughts...

It could be Dean, with an olive branch and a reconciliatory offer after having beaten her boyfriend up at the party.

And again, seeing that Jess is standing half-naked in my living room, that could really turn out ugly. I just convinced Luke not to go after him with a baseball bat...

It could be Luke, tired enough of waiting for Jess.

But I really don't want him to take him away from me. I'm not ready for him to go home.

There is only one place she wants him to be. With me.

So as she walks to the door she tries ignoring the throbbing, disappointed ache threatening to tear at her rational mind. She forces herself to bring her heart beat down a few notches, and convinces her blood cells to stop running marathons through her vessels. She silences her body, which is screaming for her to go back into his arms and claim satisfaction for all its longings...

When she gets to the door, she has mustered the part of the good hostess to a passable level.

And when she curls her hand on the knob, she has all of her standard responses ready.

And when she opens her home to the outside world, she is prepared to take on every challenge.

But the sight in front of her, that...

... Well, that she isn't prepared for.

On the Gilmores' doorstep stands a girl who can't be older than ten. Long, raven hair tumbles down past her shoulders in luscious, untamed loose curls, creating a startling contrast with the pale, unblemished skin it collides with.The face it frames dons a slight bone structure, evident in the curves defining chin, cheekbones, nose, brow, and offers childishly pouty red lips,along with full, round cheeks. She's tiny, and Roy can't help likening her to one of the expensive porcelain dolls sitting next to the unicorns in the store: for she looks as fragile, as breakable as one of them.

But what startles Rory the most are her hazelnut eyes. Better yet, her gaze, as her chin tilts to take in her appearance. There is something unsettlingly out of place, yet so convincingly appropriate in it, that the older girl finds herself wanting to dip her fingers in, so as to feel its texture and try it on for size. It is curious, sparkling with wildly and childisly untamed things, such as happyness and bliss and curiousity. And there is something sharp in there, as ancient as the shards of glass and slivers of wood of untimely shattered innocence; something about those eyes goes out to Rory, tearing at and touching to a hidden part of her...

She is studying me just as I've been studying her. Rory muses, noticing changes in expressions and demeanors.

"Uhm... Hi?" she says to the little girl, interrupting the study session.

"Hi..." the little one hesitates. "Hi, I'm Rhiannon, and I wanted to wait, I really, really, really did, but that guy with the cardigan is creepy, and I'm from New York and I'm going to turn nine in four days and I..." she suddendly stops ... came looking for Jess.

"Rory?" Jess walks up to them, shirt back in place and ready to make a run for it, should the need arise.

He isn't prepared for the next thirty seconds of his life.

Time stands still as he takes in the sight in front of him.

Rhiannon. Pure Maiden.

God, she's grown. It's the only coherent, wistful thought he can muster after having looked the little one over for what seems an eternity.

It's been a year since I left. It seems like forever. It is then that it strikes him. What is she doing here? This is Connecticut! A thought the lump in his throat won't let him voice, as things long forgotten make their way to the forefront of his life.

Rory glances back and forth between the two, trying to interpret the hyeroglyphics that seem to code for Jess' emotion as they slither across his face, tumbling in his mouth and his eyes, translating into something she cannot quite place. Rhiannon's features offer no help, however, and she gives up.

Jess startles himself out his nostalgia when the little one breaks the staring contest and throws, launches, hurls herself at him, making him stumble backwards. His response is quick, as he wraps his arms around her in a tight hug.

"I missed you. Don't ever move to Connecticut again." She states with the kid logic adults can only smile at.

"Well, Pure Maiden, so have I." Jess Mariano speaks gently, his tone much like the one he uses where Rory is concerned. But there is something else there. Why does he call her Pure Maiden?...Rhiannon... oh... Rory comes upon information she acquired some time earlier, while reading about England, Ireland, their histories and myths.

"Don't call me that!" the little one pouts against his shirt, not having relinquished her hold on the older boy.

"But it's your name." He teases. He pulls back to take a look at her, holding her at arm's lenght.

"What are you doing here?" His mind roam possibilities he wishes he shouldn't have to consider, worst possible scenarios that will torture his mind until reassurance should decide, if it so pleases her, to make an appearance.

"I..."

"She came with me." This voice brings Jess' head up sharply. He fixes his eyes on the person who spoke this last sentence, as if to reassure himself he has heard correctly. As it turns out, he has.

So much for reassurance. The worst case scenarios slide show takes a turn for the worse.

"Hey, Mariano, think you can muster up a complete sentence? Or some sort of greeting? Even an 'Hi, how are you?' could hack it. I'm not expecting a welcome speech... but..." The guy throws a worried glance around. "Can we come in? This town's creepy. Your uncle at the diner, 'cause that was your uncle, right? Flannel and baseball cap? Wanted to shoot daggers when I asked about you, and then this cardigan wearing guy asked me for my ID and whether I had a record... Going all bad-police-flick on me..." He pauses to take a breath."He asked Erika we were married. Married! And whether the Half Pint there was my daughter." This place is weird. How Jess stands it here is beyond me. "Stop standing there looking bewildered, Mariano!"

This throws Rory and Jess right out of their current states. Utterly disbelieving, his, and confused to the umpteenth power, hers.

"Huh, sure, come in." He looks at Rory "If we don't let them in, the gossip mill will swallow them whole."

"Ok" she can agree to that, and lets the raven haired eight year old, and the young couple step inside her home.

"Ok, first things first" says Jess. "Sit. Couch, chair, floor, wherever." They oblige. The two boys manage to finally look at each other, sharing a look pregnant of memories and affection, and mingled life histories.

"Hey D'Antona." I've missed you.

"Hey Mariano" I've missed you.

"Introductions" Both girls ask at the same time.

"He's Jason" Jess smirks over at the young man, who nods to Rory.

She takes in his appearance. Head almost completely shaved, a stub in his left ear. Brown eyes, wide and friendly, strong cheekbones, lips a thinly drawn line. He is taller than Jess, and his body speaks of tales untold. He looks like he could bend and twist effortlessly, were he asked to do so. She noticed the way he carries himself when he walked in the door, every step just a hint of something else, something thought out and worked on and practiced hard at for fear of imperfection, hidden in darkened rooms and shrouded with criticism, sweat, passion, determination. She tries remembering who else walks like that, who else has a body of tales untold and rock hard muscles... and she comes upon the face of a girl she interviewed a while back for the Franklin. That girl is a ballerina who juggles classic ballet and Chilton, and has been accepted to one of the most demanding dancing schools in the country.

Jason is a dancer. She concludes. But she still doesn't know who he is to Jess.

"I'm guessing you are Erika, right?" Jess turns his attention to the girl who's sitting on the couch, hands entwined with Jason's.

She smiles in response.

"And the Pure Maiden here is Rhiannon" He smiles fondly at the little one.

"Jess!" she pouts "I prefer Goddess of the Moon and Fertility." I like being a Moon Goddess.

Jess exchanges a wild gaze with Jason, sharing a thought.

Fertility? When did this happen?

Her eyes travel from one face to the other. She questions them with their eyes

"What?" She cries finally "I looked it up!"

"Listen, Half Pint, do you even know what fertility is?" Jason asks amusedly.

"Well... it has something to do with plants growing." The rest of the room bursts out laughing.

"Good. Let's keep it that way until you hit... let's say... twenty? Thirty? Thirty's good" states Jess. Oh God. I'm turning parental.

Rhiannon shrugs

"May I have some water?" She asks noone in particular, while getting up and looking around. Rory motions Jess to the kitchen with her.

Rhiannon stops at the doorway off of the kitchen, and peeks in. Her eyes land on the pile of books which lay by the bed, and turns to Rory who is standing besides her with a glass, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Can I?" Oh. Books...

She gestures to Rory's room.

"Go ahead." Rory is rewarded by a cute smile, and the sight of a very curious eight year old scuttling into her room. She then remembers she knows absolutely nothing about either of these people.

"Ah-ehm!" she draws attention, confused and lost in a maze she doesn't remember stepping into. "Jess? Help?" she pleads with him.

"It's... long... drawn out... complicated..." and painful Rory, like you wouldn't believe... and this, I fear you won't be able to take.

"You have a lot of books" states Rhiannon, coming out of Rory's room. "Can I borrow Emma? I was reading it at home, but I forgot it. Someone" she pouts over in Jase's general direction "had me rushing and I left on my nightstand." And I was getting to the good part, too.

Rory and Jess look at each other, rolling their eyes and thinking, almost in stereo.

Huh. She's eight year old me.

"Listen, Half Pint, can you read in there while we talk?" I don't want her to listen to all of this.

"'K. Don't care about your stupid adult stuff anyways. Emma's better" Rhiannon goes back to Rory's room,after having flashed her a dazzling smile and whispered a thank you to Rory, and Jess follows to close the door behind her.

"Sorry about that" he half whispers "I don't want her to listen. Some things I wish even I didn't have to listen to."

Rory nods.

"Who is she, Jess? I mean, she's not your daughter, 'cause that would have made you what? Ten when you had her?"

"Nine" he intermises, but there's no stopping a Gilmore when she rambles. And from the looks of it the ramble is full on.

"So, is she your sister? I've known you for two years, we've been dating for the best part of this one, and you don't bother to tell me you have a sis... "

Huh.

Rory's run on sentence spillage is interrupted by Jess placing his lips gently on hers.

"If we go back there" he gestures to the living room "I'll enlighten you to the best of my watting capacity."

He kisses her again, as softly as before, and she nods.

"Deal?"

"Do your watting capacities include a night light?" she asks, pouting much like Rhiannon a few minutes ago.

He rolls his eyes and takes her back to their guests.

"We're back. The Half Pint is going through Rory's books at the moment."

"Sure you have enough to keep her entertained?" asks Jase.

"Trust me. Rory's book collection rivals mine."

Jason rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing. Only remembering a certain e-mail, when you told me to go read Pride and Prejudice" Jase shakes his head.

"From what I remember, I thought Romeo and Juliet would have been more appropriate" chimes in Erika.

"You read his e-mails?" Jess asks, disbelieving.

"He lets me." She shrugs."I read in between the lines better than he does. And with your writing, it's all you actually have to do." She turns her eyes on him.

Rory is mesmerized by Erika's voice. It's deep and sultry, it vibrates quietly with well concealed strenght, and has a slight accent that makes it even more beautiful, more mysterious. This girl, Rory thinks, must draw attention like a magnet. Rory also sees how she understates her obvious beauty, not out of self consciousness but, rather, because she doesn't feel the need to flaunt it. Her tall, lean body is covered with clothes not meant to be either clingy or baggy, but to fit so as to float a little as she moves, hinting at her shape and form rather than bluntly stating the obvious. Her blonde hair is piled on her head, spilling from the 'do in every which way, and from the messy cascade of tendrils, here and there, a few copperish locks peek out of, making silly play with light. Rory wonders where she already heard a voice as deeply turmoiling as Erika's, and her memories bring her back to when she had to conduct yet another interview. A boy who sang in the choice gospelchoir. His voice vibrated in just the same way.

Erika must have a beautiful singing voice. Rory thought.

"What are you guys doing here?" You left. You swore never to come back. And I accepted it. Because some part of me wanted to leave too. But I couldn't.

"We're visiting you." Jase smirks.

"You're supposed to be all the way across the Atlantic Ocean" Jess reminds him.

"Did you forget my father still has half of his business over here?"

"But you haven't been back since..." that night.

"Wasn't ready." You weren't ready, Jordan wasn't ready. He still isn't.

Rory listens intently, almost forgetting to breathe in the process. Something within her is whispering to keep quiet and leave any questions for later use, when Jess will come to her and they'll be able to dissect it at leisure. She believes that, if she listens hard enough, she will have one of the keys she needs to decript him, yet another piece of the puzzle. . . From the looks of it, she might not be altogether mistaken.

"How is...?" I hope he's fine. I hope he's living and fighting and dealing. Jess's hand tightens its hold on Rory's, but she bears it without protesting. If some part of him is hurting, she feels some part of her should be hurting too.

Who hurt you?

"Better." States Erika after exchanging a look with Jase. A look that speaks volumes, dictionaries, entire collections of encyclopaedias, shelves, bookcases, bookstores. Which does not go by unnoticed.

"Jase" Jess' tone is low and dangerous.

"I e-mailed you whenJor pulled that stunt with the car, when he landed himself in the hospital" The freaking idiot. "After that, pulled his shit together. 'Any lower, and I'll be digging, probably my own grave' and all that fun stuff."

"Yeah, he landed Alex in there as well. I was going to kill him." Erika shakes her head, the hint of a smile pulling at her face "Then the genius told me that he had asked Jordan to go along with the insanity." The hint is now a full grin "But it was Mil who forbid me to cause him any more bodily harm. 'He's been hurting enough. It's like he's punishing himself for something. I just wish I knew...'"

"That was a year ago, when I was back in New York. I was going to make a swim for it." Jess muses."Mil?" he asks, rolling the syllable in his mouth like a marble."Girlfriend, right?"

"His girlfriend, yeah. My best friend. Camille" Erika bites her lip, doing mental calculations. "They were a mess the first year or so. After the accident, things started going better." She echoes her boyfriend "'Any lower, and I'll be digging, probably my own grave', and all that fun stuff. Only this time, times two. She was a mess as well."

Jess nods "She the one you wrote about?"

"I did. No details. I don't do girl talk" Jase spits disdainfully. Jess smirks. Erika rolls her eyes and glances at Rory, who rolls hers as well.

"Who's Alex?" Pipes up Rory, who still doesn't have a full grasp of the situation. But she senses it must have been something big, something so huge that had Jess hurtling full speed on the self-destruction bound path he is now uncapable of getting out of. Something his friends have been through as well, with similar aftermaths, and that it must have hurt this Jordanthey keep talking aboutthe most.

"Kyka's twin brother. He holds his own, but can't refrain from acting like a complete idiot."

Erika punches her boyfriend in the side.

"Only I can call my brother and idiot." She smiles when Jase tries to say something "Don't worry, Mil tells me all the time: 'Kycks, lighten up!'"

"Kycks?" asks Rory.

"Oh, that's me" Kycks bites her lip in thought."It's what everybody calls me. I used to be Rick, or Ery, then Jase started calling me Kyka. Mil heard it, and twisted it. She says that boyfriends' pet names belong to boyfriends only. She's nuts, completely out of control. I love her." A grin spreads over Kycks' features, lighting up her grey eyes, pulling her full pink lips into a wide quarter moon shape.

"She sounds like Lane." Muses Rory.

"Lane?"

"My best friend since kindergarten. She's crazy, full of quirks and theories on just about any known phenomenon happening on the planet. Very much loved. She ranks up there with my Mom, who's also my best friend..."

As if on cue, Lorelai enters trhough the back door and starts talking, all the while directing herself towards Rory's room.

"Rory? Offspring of mine? Are you still sharing a bed with the margin writing hooligan? We have to talk about that, not answering me is not going to be a deterrant! Rory, come on! I need you to cheer me up, things at the Inn are... ah... Rory? RORY! When did you turn eight?" Lorelai comes into the living room, a sleepy, disheveled Rhiannon following in her wake, still clutching the book she fell asleep reading.

"And that is my Mom." Rory shakes her head. Trying not too hard to laugh at her mother's antics "That's Rhiannon, Mom... she is..." she turns to the other three.

"She's Jordan's niece." Jess holds his arms out to her, and she climbs on him.

"Hello?" asks Lorelai, completely confused. He's so cute with that little girl in his arms. Rory looks at Jess.

"He's Jason, a friend of Jess', Erika, his girlfriend. We were..." What? Talking? Rehashing? Takingstrolls down memory lane? Confusing the living heck outta me? Rory has already come to terms with the general fact that her knowledge of Jess is still very limited. Having the evidence heaped on her in this massive amount, however,doesn't make it enjoyable.

"We were going" Jess speaks up. "To the diner, where Luke is probably going to kill me for spending the night out, torture me for it having occured with Rory, and drone on for an hour because it's...1 PM and I haven't shown up yet. Oh joy." His voice monotone, covering a hint of fear that any of those things could actually take place.

He starts leading Erika and Jason towards the door.

"Jess?" Lorelai regains her voice.

Jess turns slowly around, while a sleepy Rhiannon is taken from his grasp and brought out to the front steps.

"I hurt her. I die. Your hands. Slow and painful death. Forgot something?" he adds, as an afterthought.

"To kiss her goodbye." snickers Lorelai. Rory blushes and rolls her eyes, picking herself up from the couch and walking outside to the porch.

She puts her hands on the sides of his face, and he tangles her curls on his fingers. Blue sapphire meets chocolate brown, and for a minute the world keeps on spinning, yes, but without the couple that just transferred to its own cocoon shrouded corner of the universe.

"Will you..." try working things out with Luke?

"Yes"

"And will I..." be able to find you, should I come looking for you?

"Yes."

"And we will..." talk about all this later?

"Yes. And will you..." talk to your mother?

"Yes"

"And you won't..." change your mind about me?

"I won't"

"And we'll..." talk about it later, then?

"We will."

They share a slow, drawn out kiss. It tastes like desire and pent up feelings, of unfinished business and of love just recently confessed.

Jase and Kyka smile broadly,him hoisting a sleepy Rhiannon on his hip, her arms haphazardly thrown around his neck, her head leaning on his shoulder, raven hair spilling everywhere. She's getting heavier. She's growing up.

"What?" Jess tone is guarded.

Jase bursts out laughing, while Kyka puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in the eye.

"We'll be expecting your wedding invitations soon."

Jess glares at them both before heading towards the diner. For a moment, the idea of waiting for Rory at the altar doesn't seem so crazy. He shakes his head...

A/N: Check the bio for more information. I assure you that the confusion in this chapter will be soon cleared up. I promise. If you like them, I'll tell you where they're coming from, what they do for a living, and why they're actually there. Trust me. I don't know what I'm doing, but trust me. M.