Not Dreaming
A/N: Okay, next part finished. Sorry it took so long. I had some things to work out and then I went on a vacation and when I got home I was in a kind of non writing mood for a while. But for anyone who might have missed this little fic this part is extra long.
Big hugs and thanks to Knowhere! Without you this would probably not be up! Thanks! :D
Chapter 12. Birthday Fun
He gradually became aware of the person lying beside him, holding him as if trying to cover as much of him as possible with itself. With his eyes still closed he continued just lying there for a couple minutes, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing there.
The foggy state of his mind and the weight of another body on his gave him a sour taste in his mouth, a feeling all too familiar taking hold of him. How many times had he woken up like that before? Without a clue how he got there or where there even was? What day was it anyway?
As his mind cleared he became aware of a dull ache throughout his entire body and a feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. Turning his head to the side he caught a familiar scent and he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. At least he knew who the person beside him was. And slowly bits and pieces of his last conscious memory came back to him.
He was exhausted, he hadn't eaten since breakfast and he was fairly certain he had a pretty bad cold. And to top it all off it started raining just as he stepped out the door from work. It wasn't just any rain either, it was pouring down and he was soaking wet within less than a minute. As if this day couldn't get any worse the elevator didn't work when he finally got home, forcing him to climb the eleven floors to his apartment.
It was Friday afternoon, which usually meant that there wasn't that much to do at work. But there had apparently been some sort of mix up with the mail and the result was that he had to re-edit somewhere around 200 pages. He was seriously contemplating some sort of statement to show how unhappy he was. The only problem was that he didn't have the energy to come up with anything.
Ultimately he was in a really crappy mood when he finally reached his floor and stumbled out in the hallway, muttering curses under his breath. As the sound of his hoarse voice reached his ears he felt like cursing again.
Not even twenty feet away stood Rory, breathing deeply before finally taking the last step forward and raising her hand to knock on his door. Only to be interrupted by the sound of someone staggering up the stairs, muttering words that made her flinch.
By then she had been standing in the hallway for over twenty minutes, staring at the door. And she was starting to feel ridiculous. All the way here she had hurried as much as she could to get there faster. And when the only thing left was to knock on the door she didn't seem to be able to do it.
She had been looking forward to this ever since she decided to come. But now that she was actually here, she had suddenly started to doubt herself. What was she doing? A surprise visit had seemed like a good idea in her head. But now?
What if he was still mad at her? She hadn't wanted to think about that before, but suddenly it was the only thing on her mind. Of course they had talked on the phone as usual in the last couple of weeks. But their conversations hadn't been as easy as they used to and they hadn't really talked about what had been said on the bridge. And she had no idea how to bring it up.
She wasn't even sure what the difference was. There was just a different feeling to everything they said, as if every word was thought out beforehand. It wasn't as natural as she had become accustomed to. They still joked and bantered as usual, but at times it almost felt rehearsed, like they had had the same conversation before.
She almost breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption and watched the figure that was dragging itself towards her. He was soaked and obviously freezing, judging by the shivers that went through his body. Then she suddenly recognized him and quickly dismissed all thoughts of her fears and worries. She hurried over to grab a hold of him, hoping he wouldn't collapse right then and there, not sure she would be able to get him inside if he did.
He hardly looked up at the person standing in front of his door, too tired to care about whom it might be and what he or she was doing there. The fact that his eyes didn't seem to be able to focus might be part of the reason too. Fumbling in his pocket he found his keys and tried to open the door, letting out a new string of curses when his hand wouldn't keep steady enough to find the right key.
He suddenly felt a hand on his, taking the keys from him and unlocking the door. Looking up he did a double take as he was met by bright blue eyes looking back at him. At the same time he felt her arm grip him around his waist, as if to steady him and her voice asking him something.
He didn't catch it and just looked at her, still confused as to what she was doing there. He hadn't been aware that she was coming and he could almost swear she hadn't said anything about it on the phone last night. He saw her wave her hand in front of him and concentrated to focus his attention on her again.
He found himself being more or less dragged into the apartment and heard the door close behind him. He struggled to get out of his wet jacket and it finally dropped to the floor with a wet thud that resounded all too loud in his head. Without even thinking about protesting he let her lead him towards the bedroom.
Upon entering, despite the fact that all he wanted to do at the moment was to sleep for the next two weeks or so, he pulled her close to him. He ignored her protests as she came in even closer contact with his wet and cold clothes and kissed her softly before letting himself fall down on the bed, taking her with him. He thought he heard her giggle when they landed on the bed, her halfway on top of him.
She couldn't help but let out a small laugh when she felt herself falling down on the bed with him. For a moment she forgot that she was supposed to get him warmed up and kissed him back. As always the feeling of his arms around her made her feel safe and she closed her eyes, reaching up an arm to his cheek.
It was the contact with his wet hair that brought her back to reality again. That and the fact that his arms released their hold on her. With a kiss on his cheek she got up and tried to get a hold of his shirt, finding it a lot more difficult than she thought it would be.
It wasn't until he felt her get up from the bed that he realized he had started to drift off. Next thing he knew she was pulling at his shirt, trying to drag it over his head. "Wha'ya doin'?" he mumbled, hoping it sounded more coherent to her than it did in his head.
"I'm getting you out of these clothes," she said, trying not to smile at him, and continued to struggle with the shirt, not getting much further than before.
"'kay," he mumbled and tried to help her. His efforts were probably not doing much good, but after some time he was finally free of wet fabric. That was when he realized how cold he was. He couldn't remember ever being that cold before. Well, maybe that time he had been caught in a snow storm when he was seven, but this was pretty close to that. And the dry clothes she gave him really didn't help anything.
Soon he was lying under the covers, shaking from cold, and she was hurrying around the room searching for extra blankets. She found a couple lying in a heap at the bottom of a closet and quickly placed them over him too. After giving him a soft kiss on the forehead she then left the room and hurried over to her bags that she had dropped in the hallway, frantically looking for her cell phone.
She drew a breathe of relief as she found it and quickly dialing the first number that came to mind hurried back over to the bedroom. She stopped outside, not wanting to disturb him more than necessary and impatiently waited as the signals went through. After the third unanswered ring she could feel tears forming in her eyes, but she didn't care.
After four signals she heard the phone being picked up and started talking without even giving the person on the other side a chance to answer it. "Mom?" she began, ignoring the slight quiver in her voice. "Please mom, I don't know what to do! He's burning up and soaked and shaking like he's going to break and I don't know what's wrong! Well, not true, I know what's wrong, but I have no idea what to do! Should I take him to a hospital? Should I make chicken soup? Should I check if he has a fever? I mean, of course he has a fever, but I should check, right? God, I don't even know if he has a thermometer, which means I'd probably have to go out to find one. But I can't just leave him here…"
She finally ran out of air and took a deep breath, preparing to start up again when she was interrupted by the voice on the other end of the line. "Rory? Is that you?" she heard Luke's voice asking, sounding worried. "What's wrong?" he asked and she took another breath, trying to calm down.
"It's Jess. He's wet from the rain and it feels like he's burning up. I managed to get him in bed, but I don't know what to do," she said, still pacing anxiously outside the bedroom, but feeling slightly comforted by the well known voice.
"Calm down," Luke said, his voice sounding reassuring. "Just try to keep him warm, make him drink as much as possible and let him sleep. He probably just has a cold and will be fine if he just gets some sleep," he continued and she felt herself relax at his calm words. "And I bough him a thermometer last year as a joke, so it's probably there somewhere, unless he threw it out."
After thanking Luke and promising him to call back if anything happened she hung up the phone and with one last glance inside the bedroom hurried over to the bathroom. It didn't take long to find what she was looking for and she was soon back in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed, thermometer in hand. It wasn't until then that she started wondering why Luke had answered her mother's cell phone.
He started a little when he felt the bed dip as if someone was sitting down on it. He had no idea how long it was since he was last conscious of anything around him. The mumble of her voice had floated into the room and he caught some stray words that sounded like burn and soup. As he drifted off her voice wasn't more than a soft whisper in the background.
Although far from awake, he soon recognized the smell emanating from the person now beside him and relaxed again. He was still shaking and cold to the bone and when he felt her crawl in under the covers with him he gladly welcomed the warmth of her body. He heard her say something about checking if he had a fever and opened his mouth, accepting the cold plastic stick she held out to him. He thought he heard her gasp as she read the result, but he was already too far away to be sure.
He let out a sigh as the memories started to make sense in his head. He was sick. And he didn't like the feeling one bit. Silently he promised himself never to get sick again.
He felt the sleeping form beside him stir and realized he had tensed a little when he woke up. He wondered if he would ever be free from all his old memories, wishing there was some way he could just forget them. He relaxed again, letting sleep take him once more. Next thing he knew the room was lit by a soft red glow from a setting sun and when he opened his eyes he was met by two bright blue eyes looking back at him.
She had just gotten back after getting new water in case he woke up when he did just that. She was leaning over him, just about to move a strand of hair away form his forehead when she suddenly found herself looking into his eyes.
"Here, you should drink this," she said, finding the glass of water and holding it out to him. "How are you feeling?" she asked as soon as he had finished it, the concern evident in her eyes and even more in her voice.
He tried smiling at her, but he was fairly sure he wasn't successful. He felt drained of all energy, like he had just finished a marathon. Though he wasn't sure about that, because he most of the times tried to avoid running. "Fine," he said, not really surprised at how week and scratchy his voice sounded in his own ears.
"Is that so," she said, glaring at him with a flash of irritation in her eyes. "I've been worried sick about you and you think it's some kind of joke?" she asked, eying him with a serious look on her face, one that told him she wanted nothing but the truth.
"Okay then, I feel like crap," he said, closing his eyes again. It was too big an effort to keep them open. "That better?" he asked, almost succeeding in giving her a small smirk.
"No, but I believe it," she said, laying a cold hand on his forehead. "Did you know your temperature was just below 104 last night?" she asked after a second, almost starting to sound angry.
"No," he answered simply, not quite getting what she was saying for a few seconds. When it hit him he opened his eyes, once again looking up at her. The look in her eyes confirmed what he already knew. There was a freak out on the way. Had he not been the cause of it he probably would have thought it was funny to watch. As it was he just kept looking at her, awaiting the inevitable.
"You told me you were fine!" she exclaimed, startling him with the force of her statement. "You told me not to worry because it was nothing but a small cold and you never get sick!" she continued, getting more worked up as she went on. "And then I come here to surprise you for your birthday and what do I find? Huh? Yeah, that's right, I find you coming home looking like crap and burning up. Or actually you weren't burning up then, 'cause you were too cold from the rain!"
He just stared at her as she kept more or less screaming at him. He no longer had any clue what she was saying. She stopped abruptly, noticing the blank expression on his face and smiled weakly at him.
"I'm sorry," she exclaimed, hugging him fiercely, as if not ever wanting to let go. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just got scared when you got home.
"S'okay," he mumbled into her hair, doing his best to hug her back, though his arms didn't seem to be cooperating. "Sorry," he added weakly and let his arms fall to his sides again.
"For what?" she asked curiously, but he just shrugged, not sure what he meant.
She let go of him and smiled a little, pulling a stray lock of hair away from his forehead, fingers lingering a little. "Do you want anything?" she asked suddenly. "Luke said I should keep you warm, make sure you drink a lot and let you sleep. I think I've done the first, but you have barely had anything to drink since you got home, 'cause you've been sleeping all the time, which of course was one of the things I should make sure of, but you must be thirsty, or at least you should be…"
She stopped abruptly, completely out of breath and was once again met by his eyes staring blankly at her. She smiled sheepishly at him and blushed a little. He just stared at her for a few seconds, not sure if he was more confused by what she said or how she said it. Something however suddenly registered in his mind.
"Luke?" he asked, more confused than ever. What the hell did Luke have to do with anything?
"Oh, I called my mom last night when I had finally gotten you in bed, 'cause I had no idea what to do. But Luke answered, I still don't know why he answered her cell phone, but that's beside the point. Anyway, he made me calm down and told me what to do. I still have no idea how a thermometer could be considered a joke, but I'm sure you can tell me some time," she said before catching herself again. "And I'm doing it again, aren't I?" she said, not exactly making it a question. "I'm just gonna shut up and go get you something more to drink," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek before getting up from the bed and going out in the kitchen.
He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as she left the room. He had no idea it could be this exhausting having her around. He assumed it was partly due to the fact that he was still too tired to keep up with her ranting, or stop them for that matter. But she also seemed to be talking even more than she used to, almost as if she was nervous.
When she got back he managed to drink almost a full glass of water before more or less falling back into unconsciousness. He was vaguely aware of her snuggling up to him moments later and her voice mumbling words he didn't quite catch into the crook of his neck.
She lay awake for a long time, listening to his now even breathing. This was definitely not how she had imagined she would be spending the weekend. Not that she had really had any expectations, but lying here, watching him sleep was definitely not one of the scenarios she had imagined. Okay, she had, but not for these reasons. Neither was picking off the extra blankets to help him cool of alternated by snuggling close to him when he once again started to shiver. Those where the times she actually felt useful, laying beside him and keeping him warm.
She had no idea what she was supposed to do besides that. She vividly remembered how her heart had sped up as she had seen the numbers on the thermometer climb last night. And she had prayed that they wouldn't go too high. She had no experience at all of taking care of someone being sick. The closest she had ever come to it had been the time her mother had broken her leg. And that was a totally different situation, not only because her mother would never hesitate to let you know exactly how she felt and what she wanted.
She had spent the majority of the night holding him close, trying not to think about those numbers. When he had finally stopped shivering she had relaxed a little, grateful that the fever didn't seem to be rising at least. It was probably around three in the morning before she had finally fallen asleep herself and it hadn't lasted for long. The rest of the night she had spent sitting on the bed beside him with a cup of coffee, watching him sleep.
When the sun went up she had gone into the living room and come back with a stack of randomly chosen books. With more coffee and hurriedly made sandwiches she had settled down on the bed beside him to read. She had started the day hiding from Wells' invaders from Mars and went on to exploring life growing up and on the road through the eyes of a young, confused and high Jan Kerouac. Before he woke up she had been in the middle of the search for the Holy Grail, whatever that now was.
As she now once again lay snuggled up against him she felt relief washing over her. He didn't seem as warm as before and those brief minutes he had been awake had made her breathe a little easier.
She started Sunday just as she did the day before and around noon she knew what and where the Grail was, if you choose to believe the story that is. She put the book down and stood up to stretch her legs a little. She went over to the window and looked out over the city, trying to figure out how to best bring up the subject that had been on her mind for the last weeks.
She wanted to know for sure that he really wasn't mad at her, or at least that he wouldn't be in the future. And she wanted a solution to the actual problem. She hated not knowing when she would see him again, not being able to fall asleep next to him every night and waking up beside him in the morning. She wanted to be able to have him within reach and to talk to him face to face instead of through the phone. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of his voice.
"Hi," he said and she had to smile at the relieved sigh he let out the next second.
He had woken up to the bright light of the summer sun flowing into the room. He knew instantly that she wasn't beside him anymore, but it took a few seconds before he located her. She was standing by the window, completely still and obviously far away.
Her presence was a confirmation that the last couple of days hadn't been just a dream. Despite the fact that that was what it felt like. He tried to sit up, but it didn't take long to realize that he didn't feel up to it. He sank down into the pillow again and let out a sigh. Opting for another way of catching her attention he spoke up, glad that his voice didn't sound as distant as before. Raspy from lack of use and need of moisture yes, but it was at least his own voice again.
She started a little at the sound of his voice, but quickly turned around and smiled at him. "Hi," she said and walked over to him. "How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting down beside him, reached out a hand and put it on his forehead. Her hand felt cold.
"Better?" he said, hoping that he really did.
"You should eat something," she said. "I would make you chicken soup…except I have no idea how to make it. I can make tea, I saw you had tea in the kitchen and that can't be too hard to make, can it?" She started making her way over to the door almost before finishing her sentence. And stopped abruptly after only one step. "Do you want tea?" she asked.
"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring her question. She still seemed jumpy and he didn't like not knowing why.
"Of course," she said, smiling again, but he still felt that something was off.
"Okay," he said and he let it drop, not wanting to start up a long conversation just yet. He sank deeper into the bed and shook his head slowly. "You don't have to make tea."
She smiled and hurried away to the kitchen, making tea anyway. She returned minutes later with a large cup of steaming liquid in her hands. The sweet smell of his guava tea made its way over to him and he gratefully accepted it.
"Thanks," he said when the cup was empty. It had made him feel a little more alive and less drained. She smiled at him and hurried off, only to return moments later with a full cup.
He actually really felt better after the second cup. He still ached everywhere, but he could keep his eyes open and he was fairly certain that his voice was his own again.
"You sure you don't want anything to eat?" she asked from her place beside him on the bed.
He shook his head, feeling as if food was the last thing he wanted at the moment. Just then he suddenly realized he still had no idea what time it was, or what day for that matter. "How long did I sleep?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.
"Well, it's Sunday now, so almost two days," she said and watched the slightly chocked expression that settled on his face.
"Huh," he said, not sure how to take that.
She only smiled at his response, glad that he was still himself, although a slightly toned down version. "Yep, I think you needed the rest," she said, smiling at him. "I bet you'll let me make you something to eat tonight too."
"Maybe," he said, noticing the hopeful smile on her face. "Wait," he said then, another thought making its way into his mind. "It's Sunday? Don't you have to be at school tomorrow morning? You…" He stopped abruptly when she placed a finger over his lips to silence him and he looked at her curiously.
"I can borrow someone's notes," she said, smiling. "Besides, I can't just leave you here alone, right? And I want to stay here. If you don't want me to go that is." She added the last part as a joke, but she could hear when she said it that it came out more serious than she had planned to. And judging by the look on his face he did too.
His head snapped up instantly as an answer to her last sentence, his eyes scanning her intently. At least now he knew what had made her so jumpy today. He had almost forgotten that day at the bridge in the stress of the past days and he didn't like being reminded of it. And he could clearly tell that she didn't like thinking of it either.
"Of course I want you to stay," he said and laced his fingers with hers, grimacing a little at the effort it took to withdraw his hand from under the covers. He squeezed her hand a little and pulled on it slightly. Closing his eyes he felt her move down and finally settling in beside him, her head resting lightly at the edge of his shoulder.
She moved her head a little, leaving soft kisses on his neck and he could feel his heart speed up. Eyes still closed he moved his other arm out from under the covers too and placed it on her cheek.
"You sure you don't want anything?" she asked after a moment.
"I think I need a shower," he said after a moment's thought and smiled a little as he heard her laugh.
"That can wait till later," she said, starting to get up. "I have a question for you first. I'll be right back." She got out of the bed and walked over to the desk. When she returned she held a book in her hand, a curious smile on her face. She held it up for him to see and he recognized the rather large paperback as The Da Vinci Code. "I didn't think this was your kind of book," she said, and crawled up in the bed again till she was sitting beside him.
"It's not," he said, smiling back at her.
"So, what made you decide to read a book about sacred feminine symbols and religious intrigues?" she asked, almost failing in holding back her laughter as she remembered some of the few notes he had written in it.
"Is curiosity a good enough excuse?" he asked with a smile, pulling her closer to him. "Had to see what all the drama was about."
"So…general opinion?" she asked, settling in beside him and preparing for a fun afternoon.
"Terrible end," he said without hesitation. "I could probably have taken the rest of it if he hadn't turned it into yet another cheesy romantic story."
That night, after a couple more hours discussing everything that came to mind, a well needed shower and some actual food, he felt a lot better. When he once again crept under the covers he smiled as he remembered the proud look she had had on her face when she presented him with dinner. He had barely managed not to laugh when he saw what she had made and realized that she still wasn't exactly well acquainted with food in any other way than eating it. Not that he had anything in particular against Mac 'n Cheese.
Laying there he watched her get ready to join him, wishing his body hadn't ached too much to do more than hold her tonight. Clad in one of his T-shirts she smiled as she crawled up beside him, placing a kiss on his cheek before settling down, her cheek barely leaning on his shoulder.
"I won't break," he said and pulled her closer to him. "I promise," he added when she still kept some distance between them. She finally gave in and snuggled closer, kissing him on the neck as she did.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked suddenly, not able to hold it in any more, and pulled away a little again. She was just about to once again hide her face in the crook of his neck, but at the last minute decided to be brave and meet his eyes. The intensity of his gaze almost made her look away, but she took a deep breath and held it.
She could tell the exact moment he relented and literally felt a huge weight being lifted off her shoulders when a small smile crept over his face and into his eyes. Still she held his gaze, waiting for him to answer.
"No," he said finally, letting the smile grow. "I could never stay mad at you for long. It's just…I'm not used to the whole trusting people thing. And it felt good to finally have someone to share everything with, both ways. But then you didn't talk to me about something pretty important and I don't know… I had told you pretty much everything about me and I wanted you to tell me everything too. And the rest was just old insecurities talking." He stopped for a second, deciding how to continue. "I…no, I'm not mad at you," he finished, the smile having taken over his eyes completely.
"Good, 'cause I've realized I hated it," she said with a trying smile. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you. Really sorry. I just didn't know how to at first and then I just put it off for too long. I don't think I've been used to really talking to anyone except mom for like…ever. Not about important things anyway." She stopped, taking a deep breath. "I guess we'll both have to learn how to do this," she finished and smiled fully for the first time in what felt like months.
"We'll learn," he said quietly, almost to himself. "At least we're not running anymore, that's gotta be a good sign, right? The talking thing will come too," he said with a smile and reached up a hand to her neck, bringing her face down to his and kissed her softly. A few kisses later she settled down next to him again, resting her head on his shoulder, with her arm slung over his stomach.
"I missed you," she mumbled into his neck a couple minutes later. "I miss you every time I'm not with you and these past weeks were even worse. We weren't the same and I didn't like it. I know it was my fault and I hate knowing that. I just…" She stopped abruptly, realizing she was about to start into another long rant. Instead she took a breath and put a finger on his lips to stop him from saying anything.
"You know, I choose Yale for you," she said, a slightly far a way feeling in her voice. She felt him starting to say something and quickly continued. "Well, not entirely, but you were a big reason. Mom and I made all those pro and con lists with all those valid reasons why Yale was better than the others and all it did was sort of confirm what I already knew. I was going to Yale. And the first reason I could think of was that it was closer to you. I guess I kinda forgot that you always planned on getting out of Stars Hollow."
She stopped to take a breath, her finger still firmly planted over his lips and she could feel him biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything. She could also feel him intertwine their fingers and squeeze her hand with his. After leaving a soft kiss on his neck she started up again.
"Then you left and I was still going to Yale, the only difference being that one of my major reasons wasn't there anymore. And then everything just…went wrong and I ended up almost ruining my biggest dream. But you came back and I had my reason again and it worked because I still have my dream and I have you. But it still feels wrong somehow, like I'm in the wrong place anyway. And I just can't stop thinking that it's because you're not there. I know it's probably stupid and I know I can't ask you to drop your whole life for me and I don't want you to. But you know, I could…"
That's how far she got before he couldn't keep quiet any longer. "No way, you're not dropping Yale for me. No way, don't even think about it," he exclaimed as forcefully as he could, realizing where this was leading. "I can't let you do that!"
She couldn't help but smile at how passionate he sounded as he spoke. It made her feel warm and loved. And that was a feeling she definitely liked. She raised herself up to look at him and was just about to say something when he continued.
"Besides, it's only one more year, right?" he said, looking back at her. "We can figure something out by then, don't you think? And till we do I can probably work something out so I won't have to be at the office every day. I mean, a lot of the stuff I do there I could just as easily do at home, or somewhere else…" Just then he realized she was staring at him with an expression on her face that he, for once, couldn't quite read. "What?" he asked, searching her eyes for a clue as to what she was thinking.
"I love you," she said simply and leaned down to capture his lips with hers. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, everything else forgotten for the moment. Slowly he let his hands travel down her body until they settled on her waist, pulling her closer still.
The kiss stayed slow and sweet for a long time, neither of them feeling the need to take it further. Eventually though it progressed and got deeper and more intense until they both pulled back, out of breathe and hearts beating fast.
"God, I missed that," he breathed after a moment, smiling up at her and slowly trailing his fingers over her back.
She smiled back at him and kissed him on the cheek before sinking down on top of him, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. "You and me both," she whispered and snaked her arms in under him in an attempt to get even closer.
Slowly he began drifting away, despite the still present ache in his muscles feeling better than he had in three weeks. Before he submitted to sleep entirely he felt her leave a trail of feathery kisses over his chest and with a feeling close to pure happiness he let sleep take him away.
He woke up the next morning to the smell of something burning and instinctively hurried out of bed and out in the kitchen. The sight that met him was priceless. Rory was standing in the middle of the kitchen, still in his T-shirt and a pair of jeans he strongly suspected was his too. Her hair was up in a loose bun with strands poking out every which way. She was covered from head to toe in flour, or something very similar to flour, and in her hands she held a pan. When he looked closer he saw that it contained something that once might have been a cake, but now wasn't more than a heap of black crumbling remains.
He couldn't help himself and burst out laughing, startling her and only laughed more as the pan fell down to the floor with a loud bang, spreading its contents over half the kitchen floor. It mixed with the already present flour, resulting in a pattern very similar to the annoying static in the TV.
He finally stopped laughing when he caught her staring at him with a less than amused expression on her face. But he couldn't completely keep the amusement away and she glared at him, resulting in another burst of laughter. She kept glaring a him, arms crossed over her chest and did her best trying not to laugh too.
"What are you doing?" he asked once he had managed to catch his breathe and gestured to his now far from tidy kitchen.
"I was gonna make you a cake. I did come here to celebrate your birthday, but that was on Saturday and I never did and I thought that I could make you something today instead. But the stupid thing didn't cooperate and I might have forgotten to set the timer and got caught up in a book and now it's ruined!"
She was gesticulating wildly at this point, pacing all over the kitchen and spreading the now fast graying mix on the floor. Looking down she noticed the state of the floor and stopped abruptly. "And so is your kitchen!" she exclaimed and started searching for something to clean it up with. "I'm so sorry, I'll clean it up I promise. I just have to…"
"You were making me a birthday cake?" he asked, cutting her off and sounding so astonished that she stopped her frantic searching and stared at him. He was looking as surprised as she felt at his question and she had no idea how to respond to that.
"I don't think anyone has ever made me a birthday cake before," he said, still sounding a little dazed. "I can't remember any from New York and the one time in Stars Hollow Luke just let me have the day off and made breakfast in the morning. And Jimmy…" He stopped and shook his head a little.
"See, you should have a cake and now I've ruined it," she said, motioning to the pan that was lying in a pile of flour beneath the counter.
"But you look really cute," he said and let his eyes move over her, a smirk forming at his lips. He slowly made his way over to her and stopped right before he made contact. "Thank you," he said, serious again, and raised his hand up to one of her stray locks of hair, twirling it between his fingers, eyes locked on hers.
"For ruining your kitchen?" she asked in disbelief, feeling her breathing elevate under his strong gaze. "In that case you're welcome," she said, leaning a little forward. "And I…" she began, but cut herself off quickly. "Hey, you seem a lot better today," she said instead, smiling brightly.
He was still looking at her with intense eyes and reached up his other hand to cup her face. "Thank you for trying to make me a cake," he said and leaned in to kiss her. It was a sweet kiss and he soon pulled back again. "And from now on you're not allowed to be in my kitchen alone," he said with a smile and kissed her again, this time taking his time.
An hour or two later – she really had no idea what time it was – she gave him one last kiss before slowly getting up from her comfortable position halfway on top of him. "I'll be right back," she said as an answer to his protests and wrapped one of the blankets that still lay beside the bed around her. She hurried out of the room, smiling as she made her way around the clothes that were strewn across the bedroom floor and cringing a little when she walked past the kitchen.
She returned not even a minute later with a bright orange, green and pink plastic bag in one hand and an awkward grip on the blanket that was still more or less covering her. He smirked at her appearance, from the tussled hair and the few still present clusters of white dust to the gap in the blanket over her hip. At the sight of the hideous bag she was carrying he shuddered a little, fleetingly wondering what the person designing it had been on.
"I never gave you your present," she said when she crawled back onto the bed and with a bright smile reached out the bag in her hand to him. Her smile grew wider as he gave the bag a disgusted look before hesitantly accepting it.
"I thought I'd already gotten my present," he said, raising an eyebrow at her as he opened the bag and pulled out its contents, quickly discarding the bag to the floor. He smiled when she blushed and moved his attention to the wrapped gift in his hands. His smile grew even wider when he saw it, dark green bound with black, uncurled string. "The bag was just a joke, huh?" he said and started pulling the string off.
She crawled closer, still absentmindedly holding the blanket in place, and watched his actions apprehensively. When he pulled out two leather bound books she almost held her breath. With her eyes glued to his face she waited while he turned them over and saw the writing on one of them. "Open it," she said when his eyes darted up to hers, a curious expression all over his face.
He slowly complied and was met by a large photo of the two of them, sitting next to each other on a couch at the Dragonfly Inn. They were looking deep into each others eyes, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Under the picture the words from the front was repeated in Rory's handwriting.
"What's this?" he asked, looking up at her briefly, before turning a couple more pages and finding more photos together with more of Rory's handwriting.
"Exactly what it says," se said, studying him intently. "Happy memories. I wanted to give you something personal. And then mom and I were looking through the photos from her wedding and I found that first one and I got this idea. I've been searching for every photo I could find. They're mostly from the past months, but Babette had some older ones and I called Megan and she had some from here that she was more than happy to give me and grandpa knows this guy that owns a bookbindery and he made the books for me and I…"
"Rory! Breathe!" he cut in, almost afraid she'd pass out if she didn't stop talking soon. "You're rambling again," he said, smiling at her flushed appearance and reached out to pull her over to him. "Thank you," he said, looking her in the eyes and kissing her softly.
"The other one is empty," she said quietly. "I thought you should have something new to write in for your book. I know I'm not supposed to bring it up, but that notebook you have is falling to pieces and…" She was stopped by his lips once again making contact with hers.
"Thank you," he repeated and once again returned his attention to the book in his hands. The current photo was of the two of them walking through a wintry Stars Hollow town square, arms wrapped around each other, laughing at something and carrying a heavy paper bag each. It was a bit blurry, probably due to zooming and motion, but it was clear that they were happy. He didn't even have to think to know when it was from. "That was a good day," he said, nodding to the picture, silently wishing there had been more of those.
"Yeah, it was," she agreed and sat more comfortably beside him, remembering. "I think Andrew started to suspect we were going to buy the whole store," she said, laughing. "God, that bag was heavy."
"Don't blame me for that. You're the one that bought a new copy of Atlas Shrugged in the first place and then insisted on carrying it. I even offered to take it, but you wouldn't let me," he said, smirking at her.
"Like I'd trust you with that? For all I know it would have ended up getting lost somewhere in that bag," she said, glaring at him playfully.
She went back to Yale on Tuesday night after carrying out her promise to Eric to keep Jess at home for at least two days. When she left the kitchen was back in its pre-cake disaster state and with close supervision she had actually managed to make a real cake. Complete with Chocolate whip cream and cherries it didn't look too bad.
It was late at night when she entered her dorm. After tossing her bag into a corner, kicking off her shoes and throwing her jacket on one of the couches she hurried into her room and slumped down on the bed, reaching for the phone. She smiled when he picked up almost before the first ring was over.
