Jess wasn't one for a tourist's trip around New York; there was no Statue of Liberty, no Empire State, no Times Square. Instead, Rory was whisked along the subway to underground record stores, weird, delicious burger stores that had opened up in the middle of carparks, and other boutique bookstores, like Jess', which were labours of love and smelled amazing. Rory felt exhilarated. Jess would rarely leave her side, his arm always around her shoulder, or leaning next to her. She felt the warmth of his body like a constant pillar in this intimidating, changing city. As it started to get dark, and a bit colder, Jess took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. In answer, she took his hand in hers for the first time, their fingers threading easily together, and they shared a look that said, this feels familiar.

They had been wandering around aimlessly for a little while, their attention so focused around their joint hands that they didn't pay much notice to where they were going.

'Want to go for a drink?'

'A drink? Like an alcoholic one?'

'Well,' Jess said, 'I wasn't thinking of a Pepsi.'

'But we're too young.'

He shrugged, 'not everyone is as law-abiding as you, Gilmore.'

Rory hesitated, but looking at Jess, with a faint smile on his lips and with his eyebrows raised in that way that sent sparks down her body, she eventually nodded.

'Come with me,' Jess said, hand once again around her.

'You know last time we went drinking together…' Rory started.

'Yeah, yeah,' Jess said.

Jess led them into what looked like a completely generic apartment block, and they waited for an elevator in a faceless, linoleum lobby.

'Are we in the right place?' Rory asked.

'Trust me.'

'Who would live here? This looks like a serial killers' apartment.'

'Don't worry, we're not moving in.'

'But there's a bar here?'

'Yup.'

'With chairs and stuff?'

'With chairs, with tables, with bartenders, with everything that bars have.'

'And this is like a licensed bar?'

'Well, Rory, are you a licensed patron?'

'I guess not,' Rory admitted.

Jess took her hand in his and squeezed it.

'You'll like it. I promise.'

Rory couldn't help but smile back:

'OK.'

They got in the creaking lift and Jess pressed the button for the roof. It took almost three minutes to reach the top, and Rory looked around, trying to tell if the lift was still moving, or if it had gotten stuck halfway, a possibility she couldn't discount. Suddenly, though, the doors opened to reveal a spectacular rooftop bar, tarpaulins threaded with Christmas lights, a mishmash of different couches and beach chairs and hammocks, and beyond it all, the most beautiful vista of New York City. Along with the Christmas lights, the world seemed to twinkle, and it took Rory almost a minute to realise she was still in the lift, and that Jess was staring at her.

'Like it?'

'It's incredible, Jess. Where are we?'

'Remember Mike?'

'Yeah, the guy with the alphabet.'

'Well, this is where he moonlights.'

'He owns this, too?' Rory asked, following Jess out of the lift and into the bar. It was half-empty, a few groups laughing and drinking at the bar, and in the background they were playing something Rory swore Lane had played for her before, but she couldn't remember the name of it. Whatever it was, it suited the mood perfectly. Everything seemed to be suspended, floating and sparkling, and time seemed to run slowly. Rory couldn't decide if it was Jess, so close to her, his hand in hers, or this place, its unearthly view.

'Nah, he just works here. Take a seat, I'll get us a drink,' Jess said, heading towards where Mike was standing with open arms to greet him.

'Jess, my angel. Buy something. Keep us in business. Save my job.'

'Geez, Mike, why do you think I came here. For the discount.'

Rory watched them arguing for a while, and then chose a table off to the side, one with the best view. She looked over New York, wrapping Jess' jacket around her, and sighed, happily. She wasn't where she expected to be, but she was happy. Content. Her phone rang in her pocket, and she rooted around for a moment before finding it. She checked the caller. It was Dean. Dean. Who she hadn't talked to since the night they'd spent together. She looked back out at the city, which only a moment ago had seemed to offer so much potential, so much adventure and excitement. Now, it leered at her, brought her back to earth. She thought about ending the call, but she couldn't. She had to say something. Tell him something–that it was over–that it was a one-night thing. Which it had been, right?

'Hello?'

'Rory? Where are you Rory, I've been trying to find you all day.'

'Sorry, I've been–I've been away. My phone's been off.'

'I went to your Mom's place and she said you'd gone to New York. Is that true?'

'Yeah. It is. I'm there now.'

'Why, Rory? Are you trying to get away from me?'

'I don't know,' Rory said, 'Maybe. I couldn't–'

'What about me, Rory? Did you think about me? That night meant something to me too, and now you've just disappeared.'

'I know it did. I'm sorry. It was just, too much.'

'Too much? So you just run away? That's not like you, Rory.'

'You're married, Dean.'

'Don't you think I know that? That's why I need you here. We have to talk about it.'

'There's nothing to talk about!' Rory blurted out.

'But you told me you loved me.'

'I do love you, Dean. But I can't be with you.'

'Why are you in New York? Who are you staying with?'

Rory didn't answer.

'Wait.'

There was a pause, where Rory's stomach clenched.

'Is Jess in New York? Are you with Jess?' His voice had risen and Rory swallowed hard.

'Yes,' Rory said, and heard something getting kicked on the other end of the phone, as well as a loud Fuck.

'Dean, please, calm down. We haven't done anything. I'm not back with him.'

'So what, you're just friends? Don't patronise me, Rory.'

'I'm not patronising you!'

'Yeah? Well you're doing something and it hurts. It fucking hurts. I love you, Rory. Last night meant everything to me. I thought––god, I'm so stupid. I thought it meant something to you, too. I thought we would be together. But what? It was nothing, after all? I'm just meant to go back to Lindsay and forget it ever happened. It happened, Rory. It happened!'

'I know it happened!'

'But it didn't mean anything,' he said, accusing.

'It did mean something. I just––I just don't know what, yet.'

'Now isn't the time for a pro-con list, Rory. And it isn't the time to be running to Jess. God! I can't believe you went to Jess. After all this time you and him, still.'

Rory breathed deeply, holding back the tears she knew were coming.

'Dean. You're married. And until you're not, we can't be anything. I'm not saying you should get divorced, I'm not saying you should change your life for me. But we can't be together. Not now.'

'But you told me you wanted this!'

'I do–I did. But not now. I can't do it to Lindsay.'

'You don't even know Lindsay.'

'Then I can't let you do this to Lindsay. I can't let myself do this to myself. I can't be that person. That person that breaks apart a marriage, that person waiting for her boyfriend to get home from his wife. I won't do that to myself. And yes, I'm staying with Jess. And it's none of your business. We have separate lives, Dean. You have Lindsay. You can't be angry at me for seeing Jess, when you have a whole marriage.'

'Rory,' Dean's voice was soft now, almost begging, 'I love you. I don't love Lindsay.'

'Goodbye, Dean.'

'Rory–'

Rory cut him off, and then almost immediately tears starting falling down her cheeks and she let out a shuddering sigh. And just then, Jess returned, one huge glass of beer in each hand.

'Rory? What happened?'

'Nothing. I––I'm sorry. Please, take me home, Jess.'

/next up, I potentially change the rating to M. Reconciliations, revelations, a shirt that gets stuck around someone's head at an inopportune moment.