A/N: Thanks SO much to all of you for your kind reviews. Sorry for tricking some people into thinking that it was Logan in Chapter 1, but I think the mystery is always so much more fun. I know I love being surprised by twists and turns in things that I read. And now we get to find out what Jess wrote to Rory… Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of the characters.

Chapter 2 – Give me an R!

Twenty-four hours later, Rory was still flying high, and running flat out. There was so much to do before she transitioned over to the White House; so much to tie up at the job she was leaving, so much to read and absorb before her first day.

Add to that all of the security clearance hassle, and her nerves were officially fried. There was nothing like being interviewed by the Secret Service for almost two solid days to put you behind in your work. She understood the need for security in this day and age, but some of the questions they'd asked her seemed ludicrous.

"How well do you understand the political affiliations of Emily Gilmore?"

"She's a big fan of capitalism, but other than that, we've never discussed it."

"What about your connections to the Daughters of the American Revolution?"

"Considering I haven't been an active member in over a decade, I don't really have any connection at all."

"But you are still a member?"

"Well, yes, but only because my grandmother is, so I'm kind of a legacy member."

"I see. How much do you associate with the Huntzbergers?"

"As little as possible, preferably not at all."

"Your relationship with the family…"

"My former relationship."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, Mitchum's recent indictment for embezzlement and tax fraud has made the administration nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about."

"So you don't associate with them?"

"I occasionally see them from across the room at industry events, but I haven't spoken to Logan, or any of his family, in nearly a decade."

"Very well. There's a notation on your police record that has been expunged. Please describe the circumstances around that incident."

THAT had taken some serious explanation. It still gave her butterflies to think that a stupid mistake she'd made in college could have killed her chances at the best job she'd ever gone after. A giant, stupid mistake.

Rory groaned and gulped at her coffee. That was the past, and she was definitely moving forward, sometimes faster than she was really comfortable with. She would have been happy to stay at CNN for the foreseeable future, but when the President offered you a job, you didn't say no.

And really, even if it turned out to be horrible, the position had an expiration date. There was just over one year left in Obama's second term, and his replacement would likely clear house when they took over. It wouldn't matter how well she performed, or if the president-elect was a Democrat or a Republican. She would be let go in approximately 18 months either way, so she had decided to look at this as the best temp job in the world.

A knock on the door shook her out of her musings. Her assistant Kent, an immeasurable help and aspiring sci-fi writer, pushed the door open with his foot.

"Hey, I have some stuff for you."

The "stuff" preceded him inside: a ridiculous, hot pink gift basket wrapped in cellophane. From her seat at her desk, she could see packages of red vines and gummy worms peeking out from behind the big, pink bow tying the whole thing together.

"Another congratulatory gift from Lorelai."

Rory shook her head, impressed by the sheer size of it, but not at all surprised.

"Put it next to the remains of the fruit bouquet over there."

Kent laughed as he pushed aside the skewers of strawberries and cantaloupe.

"Why would she send you a fruit basket anyways? She must have known you would only eat the chocolate flowers." Oh, how well he knew her.

She giggled and rolled her eyes.

"That was a gag gift. The one you're holding is the real present. And I'll bet that the box of mallomars is already open."

Ken pried the cellophane apart far enough to pull the package out.

"Son of a…. How did you know?"

Rory laughed again. "That's my mom. She clearly packed it up herself."

"The card says to call her when you get a chance."

"Is there time in my schedule today?" She made a face and sighed dramatically when Kent just shook his head. "And why do I bother asking?"

Kent's head kept shaking in the negative, as he had for the past two weeks. Her calendar was perpetually full ever since giving her director the news that she might be leaving. The network was definitely going to get its money's worth before she moved on.

"What do I have at 9:30?"

"You're due in editing to finish off your piece on the Iran nuke deal."

"Ok, push it back. I'll call her now. Mike is never on time anyway."

She met his incredulous look with a level stare. "What? I haven't spoken to my mom in almost two weeks! What are they going to do, fire me?"

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Ok. I'll run interference when your call runs long, as we all know it will."

They nodded together in mutual understanding.

"Oh, here's your mail." He took a bundle of letters from under his arm, and then turned to leave.

"Kent?"

He swiveled back, already mentally adjusting her schedule to accommodate a Lorelai phone call. It was incredible how much the two could fit into a "short" conversation.

"I finished reading your chapters."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You did? How did you find time? You've been so busy lately, and…"

"I promised you I would, so I did. And I have to say, I'm seeing improvement."

Kent blushed at the praise. "You think so?"

"Yep. You've got real promise. Space adventure isn't really my thing, but your writing is very strong. If you put in the work, I think you'll really have something when you're finished."

"Wow! Thanks Rory, that's great. Thanks so much."

His excitement was so endearing. She was glad she'd stayed up to finish it last night.

"No problem. When you've got a finished manuscript, let me know. I have some contacts that might be interested in looking at it."

Kent floated out of her office, dreaming about his name on a book cover. When the door shut behind him, she picked up the phone and dialled the long distance number from memory.

"Dragonfly Inn, Lorelai speaking."

"Hi mom. Thanks for the pantry staples. I'm really looking forward to those mallomars, at least the ones you didn't eat yourself."

"Loin fruit! I couldn't help eating a few - they were taunting me! How is my brilliant political strategist?"

"Neither brilliant nor a political strategist, ironically."

"Oh pish. My daughter is going to be running the White House. I can say whatever I like."

"Nope, wrong again on both counts. And since I'm probably being monitored by the Secret Service 24/7 at this point, you might want to be more careful about saying whatever you like."

Lorelai gasped. "Monitoring you? You mean like listening to your phone calls? Is that even constitutional?..."

As her mother's voice ramped up, Rory tucked the phone against her shoulder and started flipping through the stack of mail Kent had left on her desk. There were the usual, anonymous corporate envelopes: invitations to conferences, advertisements for travel and credit cards and such.

"Rory, honey. Are you listening to me? I have a whole Big Brother rant going here, and I don't feel like you're paying attention."

"Yes, I'm with you mom. Orwell is rolling in his grave. You should be able to mock the newspeak anytime you like. More power to you, saboteur sister."

She absently clucked her tongue as Lorelai started back into full high-horse mode. There was nothing of interest in the regular mail, so she moved those letters aside. Then there was the fan mail, which she had never really gotten used to. Especially when Kirk had started sending her pictures of him and Lulu, watching her reports on TV. At least he wasn't naked in the photos; she supposed she should be grateful for small favours.

"I mean, what's next? Are they going to put a black bag over your head so that you won't be able to see their secret tunnels in and out of the White House?"

"Mom, it's the White House. It's not Gitmo. I'm pretty sure I can use the employee entrance."

"Don't they have those full body scan machines at the doors now? Like, those ones where they can see if your bra has an underwire? Do they probe your body cavities for contraband?"

Rory didn't miss a beat. "Hehe. Dirty."

"Seriously honey, should I be writing a letter to my Senator?"

"Again, it's the White House, not Litchfield. It will be fine. And no, please don't. I don't think Mr. Blumenthal will understand the Darryl Revok references, no matter how much of a cinephile his wife is."

Towards the bottom of the stack was a larger, square white envelope. The paper felt expensive, heavy, and the only markings were her name and address on a printed label; no stamp, postmark or return address. Interesting. It must have come by courier.

She turned the envelope over in her hands as her mother wound down.

"I know they're supposed to be protecting you, honey, but if they try to muzzle me, I'll have to go big bad wolf on piggy."

"That was the worst mixed literary reference I've ever heard. And I've edited more pages than I can count, so you know I'm serious."

"Don't I at least get points for working in a nursery rhyme that should terrify children, of both wolves and natural disasters?"

Rory sliced cleanly through the envelope with her letter opener.

"You should get negative points. I should take some of your accumulated points away, it was so bad. You're now in the red by 25. I'll notify Gino the bookie that Lorelai Gilmore is blacklisted."

"Ok fine, be cranky. And if you're looking for Gino, you should know he's working out of Al's Pancake World now."

"Well, he has the best international selection. I'm sure Gino appreciates that."

"Indeed, although Nucky burning down his office after that horrible feud probably had more to do with it."

"So is he making bets out of the kitchen?"

"No, the walk-in freezer. He's icing the competition."

Rory groaned. "That was awful. And you tarnished a delightful piece of HBO goodness to do it. I haven't even finished the final season on Neflix!"

"You threw it over the plate. I had to swing."

"Seriously Mom? Sporting references? You and Luke have been married too long."

"Or not long enough." Lorelai sighed for effect. "But seriously, I worry sometimes. This new job is much higher profile, and you seem to attract the crazies."

"You mean Kirk?"

"Well, yes. But he's a different sort of crazy. More of a tin-foil-hat-living-in-his-mother's-basement crazy."

"Now there's someone the Secret Service should be monitoring!" Rory shook her head at the image of Kirk being interrogated.

"I meant those letters you were getting last year. I know you brushed it off, but I could tell they scared you a little."

"It wasn't anything to worry about. The security team here did an assessment and didn't feel there was anything substantiated."

Despite her bravado, Rory peeked into the envelope before reaching inside. Just plain, white folded stationery. Phew.

"Fine, but if you get a protection detail, see if they can find you someone that looks like Kevin Costner. He has lots of experience."

"I'll see what I can do." Rory rolled her eyes again. She really needed to hide that copy of The Bodyguard the next time she went home.

"So, are you gonna do something crazy with your first big paycheque? Buy a new car, maybe? Or dye your hair pink again? That was great, by the way, despite what I may have said at the time. I totally didn't mean that Rainbow Brite comment, unless you like that sort of thing. In which case, it was super rainbow AWESOME."

"My former, rebellious, collegiate- self thanks you. But I'm pretty sure Denis McDonough would frown on it if I showed up for my first day looking like I represent disenfranchised tween girls."

Lorelai snorted. "I'll bet Michelle and her girls would like it."

Rory giggled, visualizing the looks she would get from the Press Corps, then imagining high-fiving Malia and Sasha behind the Chief's back. Hilarious.

"And how's the house hunt coming? I know they said they'd hook you up with a realtor for a lease, but aren't you cutting it close with only a couple of weeks to go?"

"I haven't been able to get away to go looking yet. But as soon as I do, you'll be my first call. I'm definitely going to need a second opinion. Once I see that a place has bookcases, I just stop looking."

She unfolded the single, stiff sheet of paper and was struck dumb by the bold, black script.

"Oh my god," she whispered, more to herself than anything.

Lorelai actually paused at that, long enough to take a breath at least. But Rory couldn't say a word. She was too busy trying to make sure her heart was still in her chest and hadn't thumped its way out of her 8th floor window onto the streets of Atlanta.

"You ok kid?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted by some email. I've gotta run. I'll call you when I hear from the realtor, if you can stand being seen in the company of someone with a green mohawk and neck tattoos."

"I knew my favourite daughter would do something epic to commemorate this move up the corporate ladder! Just don't forget the stud through your nose. I hear that's very popular with young up-and-comers in Washington; fits in well with Obama's new relaxed White House dress code."

Rory laughed in spite of herself, still staring at the note in her hand like it was on fire.

"Bye mom."

She put the handset down in a daze, still not quite able to believe what she was holding. She'd recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Jess.

Indecipherable to almost everyone, the bold hand was at definite odds with the smooth, luxury paper. She'd never thought him the type to own fancy stationery, but then she didn't really know him anymore did she? It took a moment for her to see past the physical structure of the writing and focus on the words themselves.

Rory,

I don't know what to say except congratulations, but that word doesn't seem remotely large enough to express what I'm really thinking. How's this? My inner cheerleader is doing backflips in honour of your remarkable accomplishment.

Pretty good right? I'm a professional writer and everything.

Seriously though, I'm so happy for you, so completely over the moon excited that I'm lost for words – and that's really saying something.

I won't say good luck because you don't need it. You were destined for this, we both know it.

-Jess

She folded the note and held it to her chest, even while thinking that the action was silly.

God, Jess.

She hadn't seen him in years. They always seemed to miss each other at Thanksgiving and Christmas, not that she was able to go home all that often. She still thought about him every now and then, and listened closely whenever he came up in conversation. Occasionally Luke would slip and mention his name, but he was always so awkward about it that she never pressed the issue.

She had followed him; well, his writing career at least. After The Subsect, it was two years before his sophomore work came out. City Essence had been another independent press project with Truncheon, but was more easily found in the small shops. Then, more recently, he had written a trilogy: Dawn in Hell's Kitchen, Rain of Greenwich, and Dark Queen Village Night. Thanks to a long book tour and the occasional morning show appearance, the books had gotten a mainstream, wide release and seemed to have a permanent place on best-seller walls everywhere. She'd read them all at least a hundred times, but Subsect was still her favourite.

Jess.

Of all the people who could have said congratulations, his sentiment meant the most, at least to her. She wondered briefly where he'd been when he heard the news. Had Luke told him, or did he see the announcement on the news or in a paper? Did he even watch the news? She remembered he hadn't been one for much TV, so it was doubtful.

Her desk phone squawked before she could get swept away by too many memories.

"Rory? Editing. Go go go."

"Shoot!" she yelled at no one, carefully slipping the note and envelope into her desk drawer before grabbing her coffee mug and notebook and rushing out the door.

References – for those that are interested:

George Orwell and his must-read books 1984 and Lord of the Flies. Seriously, if you haven't read them, you need to. Immediately. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Litchfield – the fictional prison of Orange Is The New Black.

Darryl Revok – character from sci-fi cult classic movie Scanners (1981).

Nucky Thompson – main character from HBO's hit show Boardwalk Empire, about gangs and prohibition in Atlantic City.

The Bodyguard – 1992 movie with Kevin Costner, playing a not-too-convincing former Secret Service Agent, protecting Whitney Houston, who plays a pop-star loosely based on herself, also played not-too-convincingly!