AN: This is post "A Home is not a House" Well, actually, I'm writing pre- episode, so I don't know all the details. I might go back and change stuff, I might not. Not sure yet, depends on what happens. Anyway, I'm putting my other story on hold for a while, until I strike some inspiration and know where I want to head with the thing. Otherwise, I will Finnish it. On this here, I struck inspiration, and I had to go with it. I'm work on my spontaneity.

See, someone was going to tape this episode for me, but they didn't. Shock me, shock me; I know. Anyway, I'm hoping to see it soon, if it ever comes on again, and I'll fill in some of the blanks either in flashbacks or in dialogue.

oooooooo

Jose Cuervo was great. He had a little trouble going back, but once he was gone, it felt good. Rory knew this, she found out at least. She knew this; in fact, it was the dominating thought in her mind as she stood in the doorway inside the apartment building in New York City. In her mind, no matter how diluted it was, this was where she needed to be. Sure, he had messed up, but now she had too. He didn't expect her to be perfect; he knew she wasn't. He didn't even want her to be. That's why she found herself in this dingy apartment building in Manhattan on this night. That's why, in her drunken, Jose Cuervo thinned form, Rory Gilmore raised her palm and weakly banged it against Jess Mariano's door.

"Okay…hold on," a voice called from inside. She knew it was late, but he was up. She knew him, he was up. Bolts unbolted, a key turned, and the door opened as far as a golden chain would let it. Upon seeing her standing there, Jess closed the door again. Rory waited as more chains were undone, and the door opened wider. Rory looked down, suddenly ashamed of the smeared mascara and eyeliner on her face and the fact that she had come back to him.

"You messed up," she declared, hiding the slur in he tone.

He leaned against the doorjamb, inhaled, and rolled his eyes. Are we really doing this again?

"But, um, so did I," she explained, lifting up her head.

His eyes met hers, and he hesitated for a moment. "Come on," he ordered, opening the door wider. She stumbled in, and for the first time, he noticed she was drunk. "Jesus Rory," he sighed, pulling out a chair and motioning for her to sit.

"Sorry," she muttered weakly, pressing her palms into the plastic of the tabletop. "I didn't mean to…um…"

"It's fine," he snapped. "What happened?"

She looked away, pretending to be interested in his CD collection. He knew she wasn't. "Are you hurt?" he asked, not ready to give up. She shook her head. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it?" She nodded, looking back at him. "Why did you come hear?"

"I messed it all up," she started, shakily. "I needed someone to relate to… But, I mean, you didn't-"

"No, I did. Don't sugar coat it," he interrupted. "Doesn't your mother know a little about messing stuff up?"

"I can't talk to her," Rory muttered, shocked that those words even came out of her mouth, knowing they were true.

"How much did you drink?" he asked. She just stared at him. "I know you're drunk." She just shrugged.

"Would it bother you if I hugged you," she asked seriously. In her malleable mind, it seemed logical at the time. "Because I'm really feeling shitty right now," her voice threatened to crack as her head slipped down into her arms.

"Hey," he said, concerned at her actions. Scooting his chair closer to her, he reached out, taking hold of her shoulder. He pulled her to face him, seeing as how their chairs were now caddy-cornered, and he saw her silently crying. He wrapped an arm around her, embarking into and awkward moment. "What do you want to do?" he asked, his face next to hers.

"Do you have any Elton John?" she whispered. He wanted to mock her, shoot her a questioning glance, like he would have four years ago. Now he just nodded.

"What song?"

"Tiny dancer," she muttered, following him into the next room. Something in his eyes softened, remembering easier times.

"If I have to watch Kate Hudson kill herself again, then we're getting the Indian Food that I like."

She caught it, and smiled, making him smile. "You're being too good to me," she muttered as the song came on.

"No I'm not."

"You were terrible to me, I was terrible to you. We were even. You don't have to do this," she rambled.

"Not now," he whispered into her ear, stepping closer to her again. Subconsciously, they began to sway to the music together, hands gripping at each other casually, waists, arms, and hands: Friendly stuff, nothing forbidden.

"What are the chances you'll remember any of this tomorrow morning?" he muttered.

She giggled, slipping a little, and, to his demise, he realizes that she was a sexy drunk. "Tomorrow morning…"

"You're staying here," he interrupted. She looked at him questioningly, and he got nervous. "It's well after midnight, clearly you can't go back to…wherever, and I am not letting you pay money to stay at some dump."

"Thank you Jess," she whispered, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"I'm trying to be a good friend here."

"Very honorable of you."

The song ended, and he stepped away from her. "I'll, uh, be back," he mumbled, stepping into the bathroom. He emerged back not to long after. "You can go wash up if you want. I mean, you don't have to, I'm not making you. You can though."

"Thanks," she said, smiling meekly as she walked past him.

oooooooo

"I can't sleep in your bed Jess," she argued again, slightly less drunk now.

"Sure you can," he insisted, just slip in.

"Where will you sleep?" she asked for the hundredth time.

"Don't worry about it." She looked down, thinking. She mumbled something incoherently. "What?" he asked.

"We could share it," she mumbled again. He just examined the wall behind her head. "We're both adults now. We're not seventeen anymore."

"Rory," he complained, shaking his head and starting to leave the room.

"Either share it or take the bed yourself," she declared, getting up off the bed and walking an equal distance from it as Jess was.

He stared her straight in the eyes, and she matched him glare for glare. He knew she wasn't joking, so he gave in, slipping into the bed as far to the left side as he could. She mimicked his actions, sliding in to the right. She put her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling.

"You were right Jess, you did change," she whispered. He rolled over, now facing her cheek. She remained fixated on the gold speckles of his ceiling. "I should have gone with you. I was-"

She stopped, sucking up a few tears that had begun to fall again. "I wouldn't have gone with me either," he interrupted, trying to lighten the mood.

"I was just going to leave Yale anyway," she whispered barely loud enough to hear. His breath caught in his chest when she said that. It was the feeling of a dream dying, even though it wasn't his to kill. She had lost it now, tears silently drifting to find the hollow of her clavicle. Jess softly kissed her temple, and she fell asleep.

It wasn't romantic in the least. It was two best friends, two lost children. Rory thought it was odd that she was here with Jess like this; Jess was never her best friend. He was a good friend, but never someone to tell your secrets too, never someone to depend on. Jess thought it was an odd feeling. It was refreshing and fulfilling to be laying here next to her after all these years. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to. He thought it strange that she had come to him in her breakdown.

oooooooo

"Do you have to leave?" she whispered to his shoulder.

"No."

"Good," her breath hit his shoulder, and it made him smile. "When did you get to be so good at this stuff?"

"Hmm?" he moaned, stretching, but not getting up.

"Sorry I crashed hear like this," she mumbled, noticing that their sides had met in unconsciousness. "I really didn't have a right."

"It's fine," he said firmly, making no move to separate. He watched her for a moment, taking enjoyment in her awkwardness. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Stop smirking like that," she replied. "And no, you don't happen to be at this moment."

"Well then, just let me know," he teased, knowing he'd get a rise out of her.

They stayed like that for a while, neither knowing whether they completely liked the situation, but taking enjoyment in the alien skin.

"Was I drunk?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Yeah," he replied, taking too much enjoyment in the situation for her taste. "You were."

"Oh," she sighed, making a move to separate them.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Nope," she insisted, not wanting to admit that he could still make her squirm.

"Alright then," he said, scooting closer to her, filling up the gap she had just made.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, attempting to mask the fact that she had scooter over again.

"Do what?" he teased, scooting closer to her.

Now she had two options: roll off the edge of the bed or attempt to climb over him. He had emptied most of the bed, making them share a foot or so on one side. She opted for rolling off the edge. So she did, first pretending to scoot over a third time, and then bracing her body for the fall. Before she had a chance to complain about the fall, Jess piped up. "You so did that on purpose."

Her face clenched up as she disputed her options from this new point. "So what?" she asked.

"I make you nervous," he sang, becoming cocky. She stuck out her tongue, got up, and ran away. "How old are we?" he asked, wandering after her.

"Don't you want to frolic?" she asked, skipping into the kitchen.

"If I were Liberace," he offered. "I don't have coffee." He explained, offering her a red bull.

She opened the fridge, noted that she didn't want to risk putting any of the contents in her mouth, and sat at the table from last night. He sat opposite her. "Um…Jess?"

"Yeah?" he replied, fiddling with the top of his can. She didn't answer, and he looked up.

"I…um, I was wondering if you're offer still stands," she said, cringing as his breathing became quieter and more controlled as if he were forcing himself to do it.

"My offer…"

"Yeah, you know when you came-"

"I know what you mean," he whispered, past her face.

Minutes ticked by, and the two sat in that position, quietly sipping their drinks. Realization washed over Rory.

"Oh my God…Jess. Unless you've got a girlfriend. I'm terrible…that was…that was so presumptuous of me. I mean, just to assume that after a year you'd still be…. I'm terrible," she said, shamefully covering her face with her hands.

"I don't," he admitted, staring down at his hands. "And you can…if you want to."

"I can," she clarified.

"Things are going to have to be different. We can't just pick up…we'll have to start again."

"I know, Jess. I know."

oooooooo

They stood in front of the unopened door in the apartment. It was the second bedroom. With half the rent and utilities, it would be Rory's. "You've never been in here?" she asked critically.

"Once," he answered, turning the knob, "when I viewed the apartment." They watched as the door ricocheted open.

"I like this one better," she grinned, sauntering in.

"Good, because I'm pretty attached to that one."

"But this one's bigger?" she questioned objectively.

"Less cozy. I happen to like being able get books off of the bookshelf without leaving the bed, and I know you'll need the space in here."

"What exactly will I be doing?" she questioned, admiring the view of the side of the next brick wall.

"Dancing," he mocked. Rory's face was horrified. "I've seen you in your room in Star's Hollow. You and Lane, you and your mom," he mocked lightheartedly. The minute the words left his mouth, he knew it had been a mistake. "Sorry. I…I'll dance with you. So…you're stuff…"

"At school," she answered, surprisingly calm.

"We should probably…"

"Yeah," she agreed, leaving him in the room.

oooooooo

"You like your life right?" she asked quietly on the way back from Yale. Yale was beginning to be a taboo landmark for the both of them. Rory, of course, had trouble going back. It reminded her of everything she had done wrong and everything that she had given up. Jess couldn't be at Yale; it reminded him of the night of his mom's wedding, the night that Rory had turned him down. It wasn't surprising that neither of them could stand to be there for long, and the boxes moved quickly. They didn't have a car, and they were forced onto the bus. The two of them had a bit of trouble carrying seven boxes. There weren't that many though; half of Rory's stuff had already been moved to Lorelai's. Rory didn't let this on to Jess. She knew he would convince her to go back and get them.

"It's looking up," he smirked, attempting to lighten the mood. Rory had been overcast ever since they got off the bus in New Haven. "It'll get better." He suspected she was crying again, but he couldn't tell, her face was turned away, looking out the window.

"How long does it take?" she sniffed, turning back to face him.

"A few months," he answered, "but you're better off than I was. It might not take you as long."

"I can do anything I want," she laughed.

"Rory?"

"I have never been able to do anything I want," she said again.

"This is true. We can," he nodded, letting her know that he'd do anything with her. "What do you want to do?"

"We could be beatniks," she acknowledged.

"We could…"

"Do beatniks shower?"

"I've never met one, but I'd say not so much," he hypothesized.

"Oh," she frowned, abandoning the idea. "I'm starting a new life."

"Refreshing isn't it?"

"Yeah, a little. I want to find a favorite restaurant and a bookstore. Oh…I can learn how to cook!" Jess raised his eyebrows. "How about a cool Chinese place?"

"Sounds better," he agreed.

"Yeah. I'll need a job. Tomorrow, I'll find a job," she declared, tucking one leg under her.

"What happened? Why did you leave Yale?" he asked.

She sadly smiled and threaded her arm through his. "Another day Mariano, another day."

oooooooo

I'm looking for something a little angsty here. My other stories are good and happy and that whole bit, but I was looking for something darker. I'm trying to keep this less happy, but they'll have their happy moments. This isn't going to be a Java Junkie. I mean, there will be scenes with Luke and scenes with Lorelai, and probably even some with Lorelai and Luke, but none with just Lorelai and Luke.