meg – I guess so…I didn't really follow that thing. I didn't even know she took him back. But whatever. You're not the first to point out parallels. Unless it's subconscious, it's not on purpose.

Kylie1403 – Hehe, I heart your review. It made me giggle.

blank82 – You…you have to sleep!

Random and long author's note that has nothing to do with the story: So a few days ago, we were in French, and I'm sitting there reading Susan Atkins' memoir, and out of the blue, one word gets through my subconscious barrier: Fanfiction. So I perk up, being a nerd and all that. And it's this girl on the other side of the room, talking about how she was bored, so she stumbled onto fanfictiondotnet and was reading Harry Potter fanfictions and they were so weird, and then everyone had a story to tell about how they did something similar once, and the boy sitting next to me says "People who write fanfiction are losers", and I'm just sitting there like hey!

So if this incident sounds familiar, and you can vaguely recall a girl with shaggy brown hair curled up in her chair, rocking back and forth, and reading during class, you take French with me! You were there for that conversation! And WE ARE NOT LOSERS!

It was like acting. Easy, fun, with all the benefits but without having to reveal how you truly felt. For Rory, suggesting to Jess that they keep the weekend as positive as possible by role-playing their former selves, so to speak, was ingenious. She could appease her disquieted side by explaining to it that they were simply playing pretend, while holding Jess's hand and walking at his side, as she was doing now. Either she was really with Jess, and lying to herself, or she was keeping true to her feelings while allowing herself to be let loose for a little while. Whichever way, she felt more carefree than she had in years as she sat down next to Jess at their gate.

"Are you sure you made reservations?" she asked anxiously.

"According to the roaming gnome, we're all set. Stop worrying."

"What if they lost our names?"

"Then we'll find a new hotel."

"What if all the hotels are full?"

"Then we'll sleep in a park, with the Eiffel Tower behind us."

"What if we get arrested for loitering?"

"Then we'll have a hell of an interesting story to tell people."

"What if-" She stopped. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I win," he said victoriously as he kissed the tip of her nose. For him, her idea was a blessing. No holding back anything on his part, and she wouldn't pull away.

"I'll think of more in a minute."

"Why won't you just accept the fact that this trip is going to rock?"

"Because you're you."

"Ouch, I just got dissed."

"Our luggage got lost on the Spain trip. I'll bet you checked it wrong again."

"Okay, first of all, I did NOT check it wrong, the airline screwed up. And second, we didn't even wear all that much the entire stay anyway. You didn't miss the luggage a bit." Her face flushed as he laughed.

"See, you think that's funny, but it's something that if they hear you saying it, those skeevie tabloids will pick it up, and it'll be quote of the year or something. And I do not want every person I work with saying 'didn't wear much the whole stay' behind my back, thank you very much."

Their flight was called, and in the coach section of the plane, it just so happened was a high school French class on a whirlwind field trip to the country. Fifteen girls between the ages of 14 and 18 gasped and stared as the actors made their way past them to their own seats. Their giggling and buzzing didn't make its way up to where the couple was sitting, and so the Marianos read undisturbed all the way to la France.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Jess hadn't made reservations for them to stay at a ritzy hotel or anything of the sort. Instead, he picked a small, but popular, Bed and Breakfast a few miles outside of Paris, called La Pomme D'Argent.

"Bienvenu!" A lady's voice rang out to greet them, and Jess checked them in between her broken English and his even more broken French as Rory wandered, looking at the artwork on the walls. There seemed to be a surplus of apple paintings, and when she finally found a brochure, explaining on the English fourth that the name of the B and B meant The Silver Apple, things fell into place.

Their room was on the second floor, at a corner. It was big and blue, with a soft looking bed, and more apples everywhere. The curtains were made of some thick, blue lacy thing, and were drawn over both windows. The room had many mirrors, and a spacious bathroom with an elegant hot tub near the outside wall. A reclining couch (which soon became a surface for their suitcases) sat across from the door and a small table near the door had a pull-out screen near it, so meals could be laid out without getting an eyeful of the room's occupants. Because, from the clientele milling about and the look of the room, this was most obviously a fancy young couple's haunt. Rory could fantasize about being a normal Parisian girl- maybe named Leila, that would be her name for this daydream- coming with her boyfriend...Jean to La Pomme D'Argent for their anniversary weekend. It would be expensive, but it would be special.

"You alright?" Jess asked, bringing her back from staring into space.

"I'm fine. Just hungry."

"Let's go ask Mme. Cravate where a good restaurant is." She nodded, and stepped into the bathroom to change from her traveling suit to a breezier sundress. She purposely left her arms bare so Jess would have to fork over his snug leather jacket, which not only was warm, but smelled just like him.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Rory desperately wanted to taste some of the fine wines, but her baby kept her from it. Playing the gentleman, Jess also refrained, though their server raised his eyebrows at both of them. 'Americans' he scoffed under his breath when he thought they couldn't hear, and Jess's imitation of his pompous attitude once he'd left the table was priceless.

Rory found herself laughing at Jess's jokes, listening raptly to Jess's stories, and responding with giggles to his attempts at French flirtation. Other women in the restaurant kept giving him the eye-over, and Rory took great pleasure in their disappointed but approving looks when he failed to notice them, focusing his energies solely on his wife. In the radiance of her attention, all normal traces of surliness disappeared, replaced by a boyishness that alone seemed to lift Rory's spirits. She had nothing alcoholic to drink, but the food, cultural atmosphere, and doting of her husband instilled in her such good spirits that she skipped down the hallway to their room at the end of the night. Following her, also grinning, Jess tried to remember the last time he'd seen her so happy. He couldn't; but he didn't let it ruin his mood.

She unlocked the door shakily, laughing when the key wouldn't turn. When the lock finally did give way, and admitted them, she curbed the urge to run and jump on the bed. Jess would have mercilessly mocked her, saying she looked like Jane. And though she loved her daughter more than life itself, Jane was not whom she wanted Jess thinking about at the moment.

She flung her shoes off and flopped down on the bed, listening for a little while to the faint sounds of the couple in the next bedroom. They definitely didn't sound like strangers, passionately hooking up once before they never saw each other again. They sounded like a real couple, like true partners. Rory wondered how her and Jess sounded when they were, if there was ever a cheesier line, in the throes of passion. But she didn't have to wonder long, because the bed bounced a little as he landed beside her on it.

One of their room's many beautiful mirrors was positioned directly across from the bed, and she watched it with a curious interest as it showed Jess crawl up behind her, push her hair away from her neck, and cock his head slightly to kiss is. He looked straightforward, and their eyes met in the mirror. A thousand screaming voices made themselves heard in Rory's head, insisting that Jess stop it this instant. If he didn't, she'd just end up falling for him all over again, and everyone knows how that worked out. She'd achieved a happy medium between her gloomy mindset, and her effervescent streak. If she kept going, she'd loose it, history would repeat itself, she'd go back to the bad place where Jess slept with the nanny while Rory dangled him by the heartstrings.

But his lips had worked their way from her neck to the strap of her dress, his eyes never leaving hers, and she stopped caring what may come. And the falling of said strap from shoulder to arm was like a switch being shut off. There was no more thinking, no more overanalyzing, no more mental screaming. There was only feeling, and reacting.

Breakfast had been laid out for them by the time they woke up. He faced the door and she hugged him from behind, their right hands still somewhat entwined, her hair serving as a pillow for them both. It was hard to say who woke up first, but they were both stirring as Rory tightened her grip on Jess, refusing to let go to whatever dream she'd been having. He let her hang on for a few more minutes before prying his body away from her grasp, and going to brush his teeth. Halfway through the teethbrushing process, however, she wandered dazedly into the bathroom.

"Where'd you go?" He saluted her with the toothbrush, then resumed the activity. If Rory was still feeling the way she'd felt last night, he really should do everything to avoid morning breath. Especially when it smelt like he'd swallowed an opossum during the night.

"So what should we do today?"

"I wasn't planning on leaving the room, but if you want to, we could go do some touristy stuff for a few hours. It's up to you." Her eyes lit up. She had visited France with Lorelai before meeting Jess, and they'd done it all. The Louvre, the castles, the Champs-Elysees, and the Latin quarter cafés. When Lorelai had helped her plan her honeymoon, France had been on the initial destination list, and Rory had made mental notes on where she wanted to take Jess. He'd convinced her instead to take a bohemian honeymoon with him- over three weeks of staying in run-down motels and eating crappy Chinese food all across the country. But she'd gotten into it, and they'd taken boxes of photos and even tried their hands at writing about the trip before unanimously declaring that it was harder than it looked.

Rory didn't regret their unconventional choice- it had been three of the best weeks of her life. No one recognized her in Jess's clothes with no makeup to speak of, and they had all the time in the world to get to California and back; no set plans. But here they were, in Europe, and she was going to drag him to all the places she'd mentally accumulated long ago.

So she dragged him. Complaining all the while, Jess followed her obediently as she shopped, ate, and admired. Many hundred euros worth of souvenirs, a few pieces of leftover bread from their lunch, and several works of art later, they arrived back at their hotel.

"I'm going to call Kathy and see how the kids are doing."

"See if Tana still works for us while you're at it."

"You don't think she even lasted twenty-four hours? Jess, she's like the most qualified person we've ever hired."

"I don't doubt how good she is, I just have no faith in our kids."

"You owe them a larger inheritance, just for saying that."

"Well it won't be much larger, because soon they'll have to split it three ways." He knelt down on the floor in front of Rory, lifting her blouse to see if her stomach showed yet. Her phone call temporarily forgotten, she ran her fingers through his hair as he peppered little kisses around her bellybutton. "When will we know the sex?"

"A few months, I guess. It's way early now."

"What do you want?"

"I don't really have a preference. First time, I wanted a girl, and we got Jane. Second, I wanted a boy to even things out, and we got Riley. I'm perfectly fine with either."

"I want another boy. Granted, they have more energy as babies, but I won't have to scare any boyfriends off with a shotgun when he's older."

"What if there are flocks of girls chasing him?"

"Then I'll congratulate my son, and probably buy him a box of condoms." Rory rolled her eyes.

"You're so much more conservative with Jane! Just because she's a girl doesn't mean she can't take care of herself."

"I know, but she's my little girl. I don't want any punk putting his hands all over her."

"People are going to say the same about your sons."

"It's a right of passage every man has to go through. Remember Christoper?" She winced.

"Very well, even though I've only talked to him a few times since then." Specifically every time either of them got married, or had a child. Christopher had actually attended Rory's wedding (though Luke had walked her down the aisle), and showed up to meet Jane as a baby. For her part, Rory had attended both of Christopher's weddings in recent years, and gone down to see her sisters the previous year. Christopher had the inability to make a relationship work out, which resulted in three ex-wives and four daughters. He was currently single, living in Boston with Gigi, Nina, and Katie. All three loved their famous big sis, and Rory had visited more for their sake than for his.

"I won't be like Christopher. I promise."

"Thank you."

"I won't threaten, I'll shoot as soon as I see him."

"You don't own a gun," she pointed out.

"Well, lets fix that when we get back to the States." She shook her head sarcastically as she pushed him gently away from her, and dialed her home phone number. Jane answered.

"Jane? Are you allowed to answer the phone to strangers?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Mommy. You know you're not allowed to answer the phone, sweetie."

"Mommy, you're not a stranger." Isn't four-year-old logic great?

"But I could have been."

"No, because you're Mommy."

"But you didn't know that when you picked the phone up."

"Yea I did!"

"How did you?"

"Because you're not a stranger?"

"Yes, but how did you know that before hand?"

"Because you're Mommy, silly!" Rory gritted her teeth. It was liking banging her head into a wall.

"Janey, can you put Miss Kathy on the phone, please?"

"She's in the basement."

"Why is she in the basement?"

"Because that's where Riley is."

"Why is your brother in the basement?"

"Because the door closed by itself after him."

"Jane Elizabeth! You shut your brother in the basement?"

"With the lights off. I mean, no."

"You are getting a time out as soon as Mommy and Daddy are back in the country. Please go fetch Miss Kathy once she's recovered your brother." Jess laughed in the background, listening to her half of the conversation.

"And that's why Jane can take care of herself around all those punks, mister."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Eat a snack, read a little, back to bed. Wake up. Repeat. Sunday was a lovely cycle for the couple, with many varied activities. They were showering a few hours before their flight at the end of their weekend, when Jess, as he pressed Rory into marble side of the shower, asked a question lowly in her ear.

"When do you stop pretending?" He pulled his head back so she could see water dripping from his rumpled bangs into his sad eyes, and she turned away.

"Don't ask me that Jess. I had a really good time with you these past few days."

"Then pretend all the time with me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't work like that. I had to get away from everything before I could do this, I can't just act like I'm happy all the time."

"So that's all this was? An act?"

"What part of 'pretending' do you not get?"

"The part where you trick yourself into believing it. If you want so badly to believe that things are all fine and dandy, why not actually extend the effort to MAKE them that way?"

"It doesn't work like that, Jess." She shoved him away from her, and went back to rinsing the shampoo from her long hair. But something inside him snapped, and he shoved her back against the wall.

"Why the fuck not, Rory?"

"Oh, I'll thank you not to smack me around," she replied angrily, and a little frightened.

"Everything could be easy, but you make it impossible! You DO need a shrink, you need fucking Freud himself! You've got problems, do you really not see that? I can't do anything for you unless you let me, and the only time you let me is when you've delusioned yourself into thinking 'it's okay, it's only for two days.' Now I may not be a saint, but you KNOW how much your fault this is. And dammit, sweetheart, you drive me to some insane places." He opened the glass door of the shower, grabbing a towel to throw around his waist. He stopped on his way back into the bedroom. "And I'm sorry. I did not mean to use force with you. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing."

She stayed in the shower for a long time, turning the water up and letting it scald her back. Finally, Jess had to put her things in her suitcase himself, and call to her that it was time to go. Taking one last look around the place where they'd been so happy, for such a short time, she followed him out to the waiting cab.

As she lined her eyes with a pocket mirror at the airport, he shuffled the floor with his shoe as he tried to think of something to say.

"So, this morning..."

"Leave it, Jess. I don't want us fighting again."

"You'd rather we leave things where they stand?" he asked incredulously.

"Why not, it's not like they could get any better." He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind his chair, smiling grimly.

"So I'm just supposed to say it was fun while it lasted, and now let's go back to not talking?" She stubbornly didn't answer him. "Because I can't do that anymore, Ror. I love you, but when you do that shit to me, I get some crazy thoughts in my head. Angry thoughts, lecherous thoughts, even suicidal thoughts. I really cannot walk knowingly back into that."

"We'll figure something out, Jess. Just not now."

"When?"

"At a later date."

"Right. I believe that." Their flight was called, and together they stood up. He took both their carry-ons with him and she walked behind him slowly. It was a very different couple than the one that had arrived merrily in France. But still, advances (not to be confused with progress) had been made by both sides. The knew that the whole issue here was Rory- and that she was capable of overcoming it, if only by bringing more issues into the picture. And they also knew that his patience was running thin- he wouldn't leave her, oh no, but he could easily find himself as screwed up as she was. And it wouldn't be fair to their unborn child to enter into the world with two less-than-sane parents.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

She followed directly in the path he was clearing through the other passengers, staring at the floor. The carpet was oddly stained- they really should do something about that. When they reached the door to the gate, flashes blurred their vision and impeded their path. At least forty reporters were waiting in the airport for the two of them to get off the plane, and now they were taking candids for whatever their story was.

As Jess put an arm around her shoulders and steered her through the mass, she caught words here and there. Most of them just registered, but the one that really caught her attention was 'Nanny.'