title: Watercolors of the Past

disclaimer: Let's just say that if I owned GG, things would be drastically different. Starting with more Michel! And Milo, of course.

notes: Holy god. I never expected such a response to this (21 reviews in 24 hours! 42 total!). I was floored. I'm so glad you all seem to like this. So, as requested, chapter 2. :)

For Lauren, 'cause she threatened me; for Justin, 'cause I've never gotten a review like that before; for Marissa and Fizzy 'cause you have no idea how much I admire you; and for Reese, Kat, Åsa, Sandi, Bex, Meg, Lina, Hadar, Sam, Marie and Selina (licks) for being such great friends and leaving me such wonderful reviews!

This is a wee bit fluffy. But not nauseatingly so. I hope. ;)

chapter.two: You Get What You Need

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Jess woke slowly that morning, visions of the night before coming to him in waves. Only bits and pieces at first, glimpses of skin, of sighs, of sleep. Looking over at her (her, the last puzzle piece), the memories settled, creating a coherent picture show, one he could easily relive.

One he didn't know how to handle.

Should he leave quietly, making it easy for her to forget and move on with her life?

(He didn't want her to feel abandoned.)

Should he stay, waking her softly by placing gentle butterfly kisses on her eyelids?

(He didn't want her to feel regretful.)

Last night, she seemed content. Content with the two of them. But that could have easily been the sex talking. Or her need for sleep.

How to Gauge Rory Gilmore 101? He had never been very good at that.

Luckily, she stirred, taking the decision out of his hands. Her eyes opened lazily at first, growing wide once he came into focus.

The safe cloak of night had lifted; their indiscretion suddenly became very real.

Deep breath. Prepare for the onslaught.

"Hi," she offered, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Hi."

"You're still here," she ventured, making no attempt to mask the confusion in her voice.

Shit.

"You sound surprised," he stuttered. Was he not suppose to be? Had he misunderstood her?

Shit.

"Well," she began, grinning, "I'm pleasantly surprised."

Jess was skeptical. "Are you really?"

She became somber, but her tone still held sincerity, "I want to be."

He got up abruptly, raking his hands through his hair. She watched him intently as he stood, studying the movements of his body as he looked around for his boxers. Catching sight of them draped over a lamp, he quickly retrieved them. In any other given situation, the display would have made him smirk as the events that had led to their removal replayed in his mind. But the crushing weight in his chest prevented any fond recollections.

Rory sat up, pulling the sheet close to her body, suddenly feeling even more exposed (especially since he was now covered). She didn't know whether to smile or cringe at the panicked expression on his face as he searched for the rest of his clothing. Frantic. That's what he was. Frantic. And she had no idea why.

"Jess-"

"Look," he turned to face her, "I get it."

"Get what?"

"I understand if you want to just...forget about this."

"Forget..."

"I mean, I don't want to screw anything up. This doesn't have to screw anything up," he stumbled. "You were always too good for Stars Hollow, and you were always too good for me. Now, you've got your fancy dinners, and your rich boyfriend. It...it looks like things are the way they're supposed to be."

"No. No, nothing is the way it's supposed to be," she reasoned, "I'm not at school. I haven't talked to my mom in months. I'm living with my grandparents."

She was losing him. She could feel it and it made her frantic. Not again, not after all this time. He was doing so good, and they were so good.

"I miss you," she continued, her voice cracking, "And I'm pretty sure I'm not suppose to miss you."

That made his head shoot up and he instinctively took a step towards her shaking form. She was crying again, and it was all his fault. She looked so pale and frail and small against those white sheets. The starkness of their color made her look washed out and fragile. Too fragile. Taking a shaky breath, she tried again:

"This isn't exactly something I can just forget."

Tossing his shirt down on the bed, he sat next to her. Stray hairs were caught in the tears on her face, but she was shaking so badly that she couldn't push them away. He scooted closer, brushing the strands away for her before wiping away the tears themselves with the pads of his thumbs.

"I don't wanna forget," she mumbled softly.

He kissed her then, as delicately as he knew how. Pulling away from her lips, he began an assault on her neck, eliciting a soft moan. In moments, she had pulled him down on top of her as he nestled himself between her legs.

(His movements were thoughtful, precise; hers were always tantalizing, even a little shy.)

An hour or so later, they were both fully dressed; she was making coffee in the kitchenette, he was gathering the rest of his belongings. It was mid-morning now, and she had a Russian Tea to host. He had some more bookstores to hit before moving north to Maine.

He exited her room, shooting her a sly glance. She smiled, silently offering him a cup of coffee by raising her mug. Jess shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, searching for some way to start a goodbye.

"I should take care of some things," she began, " I need to take care of some things. Today."

He nodded. "Okay. I left my cell number on the counter, so..." Trailing off, he fought his instinct to look away, instead holding eye contact as she nodded.

"I'll call you."

"Good." He took a few steps towards the door, pausing only when his hand was on the handle. "Hey, Rory?"

She was already facing him, as she had been watching him leave. "Yeah?"

"I still..." His voice failed him yet again, and he stood before her more exposed than she'd ever seen him. She smiled, knowing what he was trying to say, in a gesture that surprised him.

"Yeah, well, turns out I'm not over you myself, so..."

"So," he said.

"Drive safely."

"Drive safely?" he questioned.

Flustered, she replied, "If there's an appropriate send off for this particular situation, I don't know what it is. So, yes, I have chosen to bid you farewell using the comfortable, yet personal 'drive safely.'"

He was full on grinning now. "How's that personal?"

"Well, I care whether or not you're alive. I want you to drive safely so that when I call you, there's someone to actually answer the phone," she finished triumphantly.

"Oh," his smirk grew, "Thanks, then. And I will."

Sending her one last appreciative glance, he skillfully crept out of the pool house, the soft click of the door closing signaling his exit. Rory turned away from the door, setting her coffee cup down on the marble counter top. Sighing, her hands moved up to her face, then down to her sides, revealing the widest, most elated smile ever to grace her features.

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notes: So, this was not how the chapter was suppose to go at all! lol. It kinda took on a life of its own. Looks like it's gonna be 4 to 5 installments now. If you want. PLEASE REVIEW if you would like to see more. :) Thanks for taking the time to read.