Title: Remembering Floyd Nightingale
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Still.
Summary: Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.
A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me so freakin' long to get this out. I had writer's block like crazy, but have since gotten over it. I wrote two more chapters and sent them to betas, so hopefully it won't be too long 'til you guys get more. And there are only a few more chapters left!

Special thanks go to Asa, the most kick-ass betas of all kick-ass betas.

----

When she'd tired of flipping through the photo albums that seemed to belong to someone else she'd moved on to her bedroom and begun flipping through her clothes. They were all vaguely similar to what she was wearing, but she was able to pull out a decent long sleeved shirt and some jeans. After the bedroom she headed for the kitchen, where she uncovered a large bag of Red Vines. She carried the Red Vines with her as she searched through the bookcases. It was there she made her most startling discoveries.

Her first discovery was that she had written a book. And it wasn't a hard hitting political piece about the terrors of life in a third world country, or the corrupt politics invading the White House, or My Life in Christiane Amanpour's Shadow: The Rory Gilmore Story. It was a novella about a poetess living in a large city with no inspiration who moves back to her small hometown in disgrace, only to discover that's where her inspiration was all along. It was titled, simply, Star. The subtitle on the title page said, "A Book of Longing, based on a true story."

Her second discovery was that Paris had written articles in a score of medical journals, and Rory had them all. They circled closer and closer to a cure for cancer, and the last article cited Paris as a Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry.

Her third discovery was that she owned all three copies of Jess' book. This in itself wasn't as surprising as the fact that the margins of the books were filled with notes in her own precise handwriting.

She moved on after this last discovery, deciding that any other surprises the bookcase might hold were probably too much for her. Instead, she made her way over to her CDs, where she noticed that Lane's band had made a total of seven CDs. She checked the liner notes of each and every one, and discovered that Lane had been true to her word: in the acknowledgements, just under "Jesus, our Lord and Savior", was "Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, for being best friends and cleaning out their garage just to let a crazy unnamed band practice."

After that, she searched through her DVDs to discover that Dave had become a TV star, and she owned all 5 seasons of his show. The show looked very teenage soap opera, but they were all signed, so she let it go.

When she'd finished exploring the apartment, still not closer to remembering her 31-year-old life, she decided to leave. She threw her keys into her enormous purse, grabbed the bag of Red Vines, and left.

--

"Jess, Jess!"

Jess turned around to see Charlie, a third-year medical student, rushing up to him.

"What's up, kid?" Jess asked.

"You said you'd help me," Charlie said nervously, rubbing his right thumb over a scar on the back of his left wrist, a move he always performed when nervous.

"Okay. You got time right now?"

Charlie nodded emphatically, and Jess led him into the lounge.

"Now that we're alone...what were you thinking of saying?"

All the color drained from Charlie's face, and he mumbled towards the floor, "I dunno. Something like, 'I've known you for a long time. And I've loved you for a long time. And you love me. Will you marry me?'"

Jess made a "so-so" move with his hand, and then said, "Sometimes the simplest things are the best. This, apparently, is not one of those times."

Charlie's face dropped.

"How are you giving her the ring?"

"I figured I'd go old school, you know? Drop on one knee?" Charlie looked nervously at Jess, who shook his head.

"First of all, never say 'old school'. Just...don't. Second of all, if you're going to do the simple one knee thing, perhaps you do need a simple speech. But a better speech."

The other man nodded, waiting for Jess' words of wisdom.

"Okay. Um, how 'bout...'We've known each other for years, and you've enriched my life with your mere presence. Now, I think we should go one step further, and become husband and wife.'"

A smile slowly spread over Charlie's face, and he said, "Just the perfect amount of bullshit to make it real. I think I'll use that. Wow! How do you do it?"

Jess shrugged. "I've always had a gift for bullshit."

The door to the lounge suddenly opened, and Dr. Hartman walked in. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she said, "That cute girl you took home yesterday is harassing reception, Jess. You might want to go straighten that out."

"What the hell is she doing here?" Jess murmured. "You okay now, Charlie?" The younger man nodded, and Jess took off. As the door to the lounge closed behind him, he could hear Charlie saying, "Um, Leslie? We've known each other for years..."

--

"Dr. Mariano. He was here yesterday!"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but there's no Dr. Mariano at this hospital. Perhaps there's one at the St. Luke's Division. It's about three miles up Tenth Avenue, although it turns into Amsterdam Avenue between 56th and 57th Streets. It's next to Columbia University, on the corner of 115th."

Rory groaned and touched her forehead. She was, unfortunately, getting a headache, and it was going to be a killer. She knew this was the right place. She'd been here the night before. She recognized some of the people, too. "There's Dr. Barnes!" she exclaimed. "He treated me last night, too! He'll know Dr. Mariano." She finished with a slight glare at the receptionist, though she knew he had tried his best. She was about to call the doctor's name when Jess suddenly appeared, shooting a wan smile at the receptionist and sliding one hand under Rory's elbow.

"Jess!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry, Stephen."

"'S okay," Stephen said, holding up his hands in a 'don't worry about it' gesture. "She's a little crazy, but she's better than most."

"Hey! I resent that!" Rory said, putting her hands on her hips--though Jess still held tightly onto her right elbow.

"Oh, it's true," Jess said, raising his eyebrows at his mad ex-girlfriend.

"But he told me you didn't work here!"

"No, ma'am, I said there was no doctor named Mariano here. I actually forgot about Jess' last name."

"Wait. You're not a doctor?"

Jess shook his head.

"If you're not a doctor, then what...are you a medical student?"

"No, Rory. I'm a nurse."

Her confused face melted away, and a smile slowly spread. "You...became...a nurse?" She started giggling, and then chuckling. Within a few moments, she was keeled over (as best she could, with Jess still clutching her arm) and holding her stomach, which was aching from laughter. "Omigod," she said in between gasps for breath. "I'm think...I'm going...to die from...laughter."

Jess sighed, and informed her, "You can't die from laughter."

"How do you know? You're only a nurse!" she shot at him, a wide grin on her face. "Oh, God," she said, chortling a little. "Ooh! Ooh! Do you wear the little white dresses? I bet you do!" Rory had her eyes closed and was hopping up and down laughing now, completely missing the exasperated looks Jess was giving Stephen.

"No, I don't wear--" Jess tried to say, but Rory was ignoring him, and couldn't hear him over her guffawing anyway.

"I bet you at least wear those little white hats with the red crosses on them." Rory opened her eyes and grinned at Jess, and then had to turn away again as she imagined what she was saying. "Oh, God! The mental image!" she said in a high pitched voice, almost entirely out of breath. She started another round of laughter, which certainly didn't stop when Jess merely tightened his hold on her and pulled her into the lounge. He allowed her to collapse on the couch, where she preceded to curl over the arm, trying to let the laughter subside.

Jess turned away from her, facing the door. God, she was stressful. Who knew a 31-year-old partly amnesiac ex-girlfriend could be so exhausting? He rubbed his hands once over his face, leaving them to rest over his mouth. He looked out of the window in the door and saw Camille. She gestured for him, and he glanced quickly at Rory. She was still curled on the couch, laughing hysterically, so he edged out of the room.

"Come here. We need to talk," Camille said angrily from the corner of her mouth when he reached her. She had turned so she was facing away from him, and now she started walking. She pulled him into the nearest supply closet, one that had been the sight of many fervent kisses, and faced him angrily. "So rumor has it your cute new girlfriend is hanging around the hospital."

Jess groaned. "Oh, God, no, Cam. She's just someone from the past. She showed up yesterday with a head injury."

"Oh, bullshit, Jess. You blew me off yesterday for her. She's not just 'someone'. Who the hell is she?"

"She's my ex-girlfriend, okay? The one from Stars Hollow."

Camille set her jaw. "The one from Stars Hollow?"

"Yes. Rory Gilmore, from Stars Hollow."

"Oh, God. She's that ex-girlfriend? The one that made you swear off dates for years and write a book? That one?"

Jess nodded slowly.

"And she's mentally unstable?"

"It's only amnesia."

"Oh, God!" Camille put her face in her hands for a moment, before looking back at Jess. "What the hell is she doing in Midtown?"

"I don't know," Jess said. "She lives in Brooklyn now."

Camille groaned. "Why can't they just stay where they come from? Why do exes always have to make trouble?"

"She's not making trouble," Jess said, a bit uncomfortably, as he was remembering the kisses from the night before. "She's just...here. I'm just going to help her for a little while, and then I'll send her back to Brooklyn."

There was a knock on the window, and the couple looked up, startled. "Who is it?" Camille called, unwilling to give up her fight just yet.

"It's me," Rory called sheepishly.

"Speak of the devil and the devil appears," Camille muttered, before pushing the door open to reveal the cause of the fight.

"Hey," Rory said, waving awkwardly. Neither Camille nor Jess moved, and Camille looked at Jess and said, "I don't believe a word you say."

"Oh, come on, Cam. You've got to believe some of them."

"Goddammit, don't call me Cam in the open!"

"Look around, Cam!" Jess exclaimed, leaving the confines of the closet for the open hallway. He spread his arms and continued. "Everyone knows! The more you try to hide it, the faster the rumor spreads, and no one cares!"

"Stop making a scene!" Camille hissed.

"No!" Jess yelled childishly.

"Oh, Lord," Camille muttered, her Southern accent thickening. "You sound like you're four!"

"Maybe I am!"

"This just isn't right. Something about this just isn't right. Are you sleeping with her?"

Jess laughed once, a hollow, humorless sound. "God, one-track mind. Medicine or relationship--no in-between."

"Are you?" Camille demanded.

"No!" Jess yelled. "She's my uncle's step-daughter. It's not like I'm taking advantage of her. She's practically my cousin!"

"She's your ex-girlfriend!"

"We dated before my mother married his uncle," Rory calmly told a passing orderly who was looking curiously at the group. "We dated first."

"I don't believe you! There is no way you're not sleeping with her! She's the girl who ruined you, for months!"

Jess groaned, ending in a scream. "God! Get it through your thick skull! I'm not taking advantage of her!"

Rory, sensing her opportunity to rid herself of the obstacle-in-form-of-the-girlfriend, immediately piped up with, "Oh, he's totally taking advantage of me. Break up with him! Do it now!"

Camille let out a frustrated scream, and stalked off. Jess glared at Rory, who simply shrugged and said, "You did kiss me last night."

Jess shook his head and ran after his girlfriend. "Cam, wait!"

--

He was still not talking to her. He hadn't spoken to her since the end of his blow-up with Camille--which had, in the end, ended terribly, with Camille screaming that she didn't know how she'd ever thought she liked him and Jess screaming that her accent was terribly grating. In the end, it wasn't a "break-up and make-up" fight; it was, simply, a "break-up" fight.

And now he wasn't even talking to Rory, though he had taken her back to his apartment and shoved a stack of bedding into her hands before pushing her into the guest room and shutting the door. She made up the bed, pulled her bag of Red Vines from her purse and slowly began chewing through them, flipping through a book she'd found under the futon.

-

Jess was sitting on the couch in his living room, a snifter glass half-filled with chilled vodka on the end table next to him, his only indulged vice. He threw the magazine he had absent-mindedly picked up back onto the coffee table, before grabbing his drink so violently some of it sloshed out of the glass. He lifted it to his lips and took a swallow, allowing the liquid to burn his throat on the way down.

The phone rang, annoying him from his stupor. He got up, feeling every bit like the bitter old alcoholic that seemed to run in his family--though it could apparently be chased out by a good relationship, if his parents and uncle were any indication.

"Hello?" he grumbled into the phone.

"Um...Oscar?" Lorelai asked, referencing The Odd Couple and Sesame Street all at once.

"Sorry," Jess said, softening a little. "Tough day. What's up?"

"Uh...is Rory still there?"

"Oh!" Jess slapped one hand to his forehead. "She was supposed to call you, I forgot."

"Oh, no, it's fine. I just thought I'd make the first move. I mean, it's a little easier since she doesn't know all the crappy fights we've had over the years, but still. She doesn't know about them, right? I mean, she's not suddenly recovered? Oh, God. Does she hate me again? Please tell me she doesn't hate me."

"Lorelai, calm down. She still hasn't recovered, and she really wants to talk to you. Hold on, let me get her." Jess set the receiver down, and then walked to the guest room door. He knocked softly, and within seconds Rory pulled the door open.

"Are you talking to me again?" she asked, her face completely lit up.

He couldn't help but smile back at her, but didn't answer her question, and instead said, "Your mother's on the phone. She's a little nervous, but she can't wait to talk to you."

Rory, though a little nervous herself, both about her 12-year-older mother and her current trouble with Jess, grinned and headed to where she'd seen the phone earlier. Jess watched as she eagerly picked up the reciever, immediately twisting the cord around her finger.

"Hello? Mom?" She waited a few seconds, and then once again said, "Hello? Hello?" She turned to Jess, holding out the offending object blaring its dial tone. "She's not there."

Jess picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" a few times for good measure, though the dial tone was deafening in his ear. Only when the recorded woman's voice came on the line to tell him to hang up and dial again did he set the reciever down. "I'm sorry," he said to Rory, whose face looked about to crumble. "She really was there," he insisted.

Rory didn't say anything, only stepped forward and buried her face in his chest, her tears coming swiftly. He couldn't help but wrap an arm around her, comforting her as Lorelai must have done so many times when he'd made her cry.