Maybe this Time…

Chapter 3: Wednesday

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: Thanks for the responses. It makes all the time and effort worthwhile.

H: As usual…thanks.

And of course…Read? Please review.

Summary: Maybe this time…Change is inescapable. One week. Seven days. A relationship comes together.

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"They've given each other one more chance, and tonight—they take it…"
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Wednesday: 9:55 P.M.
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The wind whips around his body and swirls on the sidewalk. It attacks those who are unprepared for the chill and threatens the ones who are only armed with a light overcoat. He flips the collar of his jacket up to protect his face from the biting cold. Sticking out a cautionary arm, he jogs in front of a passing cab and narrowly misses the puddle on the street corner. Spying his destination, he turns his wrist to check the time.

The door closes behind him and he shakes the snow off his jacket. Running a hand across his jawbone, he regrets not taking the extra time to shave this morning. He's been sporting the five o'clock shadow look recently, but now he wishes that he at least made the effort to clean up before seeing her. Nervous, he checks his watch again and sees that the second hand is rapidly approaching the halfway mark. Almost ten. Seeing an empty table by the window, he slides the chair back and plops down.

"What can I get for you?" A pretty girl tucks her blonde hair behind an ear and looks shyly at him.

"Tea, please." He glances up and notices her blush. Flattered, he gives her a charming smile. "Could I get that with milk?"

"Sure." Her eyes dash away and she tucks her pad back into her apron all flustered.

He smirks.

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Wednesday: 9:58 P.M.
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She arrives hesitantly and alternates between unbridled excitement and the urge to just drag her feet. Inexplicably nervous, she continually tucks her wind-tousled hair behind her cold ear. Standing in front of the diner, she peeks through the glass door hoping to catch a glimpse of him before entering. Not seeing him, she suspects that there are tables hidden in the back corner away from her futile view at the door. She enters with a familiar tinkering of a bell that makes her think of Luke's back home. She stands still as she takes in the diner and her eyes stop their journey as they finally land on him.

His eyes catch at the forgotten sight of her and his throat suddenly feels dry. She looks pretty but a little weary with her scarf hanging loosely from her neck. She gives him a small smile and a nod of acknowledgment. Silently walking over to he table, he watches her every move. He starts to stand up halfway to greet her. She stops within a foot of him and bites her lower lip in anticipation. "Hey."

His tongue feels thick and words don't come to his rescue. He half expected her not to show up. The invitation to meet wasn't exactly ideal. He had wrestled over and over again in his mind about their conversation last night. He had woken this morning riddled with anxiety and frustration at allowing himself for loosing his temper like he had. He had debated whether or not to come at all, but at the off chance that she would show up, he decided to sit all night at the diner if he needed just to wait for her.

She sits down and shrugs off her coat. She smiles and it brightens her entire face. "Wow, there you are."

He nods. "Yeah. Long time."

The waitress appears again and sets down his tea and a little metal container of milk. Turning to the new guest, "What can I get for you?"

"Coffee, please." She turns around to glance at the pastry case. "Oh, and a piece of blueberry pie too."

Mixing in the milk into his tea, he reaches over to rip open two packages of sugar. The spoon clinks against the teacup. Taking a sip, he holds the hot cup in his hands and examines her closer. She hasn't changed that much. Hair's longer than he would have imagined, but it's still chestnut brown and he has a feeling that it would still be as soft as he remembers. Other than brown eyeliner, she doesn't look like she's wearing much makeup. Her lips and cheeks are pink from the weather outside but they're not chapped. "How are you?"

"Good." She bobs her head. "Confused." She chuckles nervously. "I really don't know what we're doing here."

"We're having coffee."

"Last night…" The waitress puts down the coffee and the conversation pauses momentarily. "About last night. I guess…" She blows out her breath. "I don't even know what I'm saying."

He understands. "I'm sorry about what happened. Or at least, how it happened."

She receives an easy apology and it surprises her how easy he says it. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said about you."

He wants to ask what part did she not mean, but he refrains. "No hard feelings?"

"None." She grins.

He nods. "How about we just say what we want to say to each other? And if tonight doesn't work out, we'll just leave it at that and forget any of this happened."

"Okay." She's doesn't think that'll work and that entire idea is just ludicrous.

He senses her doubt. "You know, of all the ways this could have happened, this is probably the last on the list in my mind."

"What do you mean?"

He chuckles. "Well, for starters, I wouldn't have asked to see you again just out of the blue. And certainly wouldn't have yelled it at you."

"Well, I wasn't really nice to you either." She smiles.

"Guess there's no such thing as really starting over."

She shrugs and gives him a playful look. "What would be the fun in that?" She takes a sip and big blue eyes look at him over the rim of her cup. "Besides, if we really started all over, I doubt you'd notice me again."

He cocks his head. "What do you mean?"

"I always wondered what you saw in me. Besides the fact that we both liked to read, that is. I think if we just met on the street or bumped into each other at a bar or something, I'd be the last girl you'd try to hit on."

"Now why would you say that?"

"Look at you." And she is. His olive green hoodie is snug against his body and she can make out the flat planes of his chest. A black t-shirt peeks up where he's zipped down the front of the sweater and he's wearing something around his neck. Whatever it is, she can't see it, but she catches the outline of a silver watch on his left wrist. Her eyes follow the line of his fingers where she can make out their wiry strength. They're a bit calloused and she closes her eyes for the tiniest second thinking about how it would feel to have his hands run across the smooth skin of her body.

Eyebrows lifted, "Look at you." He echoes her words.

"I thought you liked me for my mind." She remembers their conversation from yesterday and she doesn't resist the opportunity to tease him.

He smirks. "Yes, well…I wasn't blind either." He defiantly keeps constant eye contact. "And I'm certainly not blind now."

"Are you flirting with me?"

He chuckles and drops his gaze.

"I can't get over how much you've changed."

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. "I'm still me."

"I suppose so."

"Refill?" The young blonde appears in front of them.

"Sure, thanks." Rory hands her cup over.

The girl keeps her smile on him. "And you?"

"I'm good."

A piece of pie is placed between the two of them and he digs in without asking first. "So…are you seeing someone?"

Her eyes widen. "That was out of left field."

"Nope, not so much. Been on my mind ever since you asked me whether or not I'm seeing someone."

She giggles and scoops a forkful of pie filling. "You were never one for segues. And to answer you, I am currently unattached."

He answers her with a simple, "Good."

She pushes the pie over to him. He takes another bite and smiles at her.

Her thoughts buzz with what she really wants to say and her pride tells her not to admit anything, but her mouth just runs away from her. "Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I've missed you."

He lifts his eyebrow.

"As long as we're being honest and all." She shrugs one delicate shoulder.

He mutters, "Talk about a lack of segues." He smiles and softly, but honestly, remarks, "Suppose I should say that I've missed you too, then."

The honest reply throws her off but she's not entirely unprepared. They'd both have to be deaf, blind, and utterly stupid to not know that they still have some sort of feelings for one another. No matter how much time has passed between them, they always seem to make it back to this point. She looks down and sees that his hand is barely an inch away. Moving her hand slightly, her forefinger catches his thumb. Still holding onto his fork, he moves to secure their touch. Her eyes follow the movement of his hand intently. The nerves on her fingertips are tingling but there's no swell of a violin like in movies. She chides herself for thinking of stuff like that. His easy smile has dropped from his face and he's fixated on their hands. Her fingers are newly manicured and three of his have smudges of ink across his nails. "You've been writing?"

He follows her line of sight. "Yeah. How can you tell?" He jokes. "I use my laptop mostly, but sometimes I go old school with a pen and a notebook."

Moving her other hand over to his, she strokes the fingers of his right hand. "I always knew you were going to do something great with these hands."

"What? Get ink all over them?"

She snickers. "No." She glides a finger down his pinkie. "I always liked your hands."

He watches her. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. Strong."

Moving his other hand, he runs it over the sensitive skin of her exposed wrist. He watches as her eyes drift shut and he's amazed as he sees her shiver. "Are we really doing this, Rory?"

Eyes still closed, "Yes."

His heart skips a beat. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, we're really doing this."

"What does that mean?"

Her eyes open. "It means that we're going to try again." She's made her decision.

That's all he needs to hear and he nods. "You wanna get out of here?"

A slow smile spreads across her face. "And go where? It's late."

"Dunno." He flags down the waitress. "Check, please." Taking out a couple of bills, he leaves a generous tip. "Come on. Let's walk a little."

She stands and pulls on her coat again. He slips on his leather gloves and buttons his wool overcoat. It's dark gray and the hem falls to brush past his knees. She notices that it seems tailored. How much he must have changed to ditch the leather jacket from years ago.

He looks down. "Warm?"

"Think so."

The bell jingles again as he holds the door open for her. She waits for him to catch up but she doesn't move when he finally does. "What is it?" He asks.

"Nothing."

"Okay…" He's curious.

She looks up at the darkened sky and meets his eyes again. His are eagle sharp and it throws her off balance. "Everything's just so surreal." She tucks her hands into her coat pockets and looks up at him.

Blinking twice, he lifts his hands and cups both her cheeks as he leans down to kiss her. He's caught her by surprise and her lips part in a gentle 'oh.' He licks her lip and kisses harder. Moving closer to her body, he bends his knees to embrace her further. She removes her hands out of her pockets and holds his waist. She whimpers quietly and his coat bunches up in her fists as he leans her backwards to press his body tighter to her. His lips slow and he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. She feels his breath puff against her.

"Did you just kiss me?"

He smirks. "Yes?"

"Is that a question?"

"Did you just kiss me back?"

"Yes." She slips her arms around his waist. "Did you plan all of this?"

"With you? Things are never planned. Believe me."

She giggles. "So what do we do now?"

"My place?"

She pulls back but not out of their embrace. "Not tonight."

"Okay." He takes no offense.

Coyly, "Maybe some other time though."

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Walk me home?"

"Too cold." He steps away but moves his arm up to her shoulders instead. Spying a cab approaching the corner, he flags it down. "Get in, we'll share."

She ducks down and he slips in next to her. He listens to her give the driver the address to her apartment and doesn't miss the fact that she's pressed her body next to his. Even through multiple layers, he thinks his body is tingling and his heart thumping, and swears that she feels the same.

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Wednesday: 10:32 P.M.
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