Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't own anything.

Summary: Rory Gilmore has been running her grandfather's publishing house for a year now. She is surprised when she gets a phone call by her mother's ex-boyfriend Luke who asks her a certain favor. Starting from there, her life starts to alter rapidly. AU

A/N:This fic exists thanks to LitLove, who inspired it, and especially thanks to my wonderful beta - Ara May, who has been supporting it all along. Thank you, ladies! Dear Ara, without your help, nothing of this would be possible!

...

Friday night. Or Saturday morning. Clock's bit blurry. Đ¢hat last scotch must be still running in my system.

... Remember how much you enjoyed the way I became 'cuddly' after a couple of drinks? Now, I guess, would be a proper time to tell you it wasn't the drinks. Never was. I guess I was just looking for an excuse.

Clock's fucking blurry but, luckily, no one actually cares what time it is. Or what day. It's been the same day repeating over and over for the last nine months, anyway.

Huh... I just tried to tap dance round the coffee table and bruised my shin. I think it's pretty bad... Jeez...

I'm going out on the porch now. Limping. Whatever. Fresh winter air to clear my mind. Good for my health. Unless I catch pneumonia, that is. Argh, it's freezing...

Here, I sit down on the stairs and breathe in. A part of me is still waiting for you to storm in after work, shopping bags in hands, full of useless Christmas decoration that made you smile...

It starts snowing.

...

'Rory?'

'...'

'Ace, please don't hang up,' Logan's voice stretched over the line.

'Ace, I wanna talk to you,' he pleaded.

She rolled her eyes.

'Logan, are you drunk? No, wait, stupid question, it's New Year's eve, of course you're drunk,' she sighed and moved towards the less crowded end of the room, next to one of the French windows, the party buzzing joyfully behind her.

The sky was clear, a full moon pinned right above the Gilmore mansion.

'Ace, I need to see you.' Boyish and naive. Very Logan.

'You can. In the office,' she cut.

'No, sorry, you can't. 'Cause you turned out to be a weak minded coward and didn't even come to face me after, completely behind my back, you sniveled into my place and then started running my company.'

'I thought we're friends.' Childish stubbornness.

'Well, so did I,' Rory grunted agitatedly.

It started snowing and her look got transfixed while following the thin pieces of ice as they fell over the window sill.

'I tried to, Ror. I tried to talk to him, I swear. But you know him, he's just...'

'Where are you?' she asked suddenly, to her own surprise.

'It was gonna be either me or him, Ace,' Logan admitted, suddenly serious, his look focused on the golden cuff buttons of his shirt.

They were in the back of his limo.

'I insisted it was me,' he added, some sadness crossing his voice.

She looked at him and he looked up. His slightly hazy gaze held hers for a while before he turned to the driver.

'Trevor, pull off here,' he instructed and the car stopped. Logan looked back at her to meet her questioning look. 'Ace, how do you feel about sailing?'

...

- Who the hell...

- Who do you think?

- Eh?

- Happy first snow!

- 's that you?

- No, it's Duran Duran. Of course it's me. What'cha doing?

- Mm, sleeping.

- Well, time to shake it up, old man, we're goin' out and making snow balls.

- Eh, no, we're not.

- We so are. Yay!

- ...

- C'mon, let me hear your enthusiasm: Yay!

- Huh.

- Enthusiasm! Yay! Now!

- Yay?

- That's right, old man. Yay. Now come on, I'm already outside. And bring the mittens I got you last Christmas. Boy, is it freezing...

...

'You stole a yacht.' Stacy said agitatedly and breathed out through her nose, her knuckles going white over the steering wheel. 'Who did you think you were - Catwoman?'

Stacy started the engine and shook her head, continuing her rant.

'On New Year's Eve. Richie Rich drunken called you and you stole a yacht with him. On New Year's Eve. And you stole a yacht.'

'I remember, okay?' Rory grunted, crossing her hands before her chest like a five year old. Her head was starting to ache and it was hardly due to the champagne.

'Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page here,' Stacy huffed, steering her Honda out of the police department parking lot.

'And you were trying to do what, exactly?' Stacy continued fuming. 'I mean, beside being stupid. And beside making me quit a tasteless snobby party full of good-looking middle-aged, wealthy, single, tipsy men who find me incredibly attractive, thus making me miss a pretty good opportunity to get laid first thing this year? Not that any of those guys was my type, anyway, but this is so not the point!'

There was something strangely comforting in Stacy's anger. A vague feeling of familiarity. Or maybe it was just the presumption that, maybe, she was so pissed off because she cared enough to.

It kind of calmed Rory down. She hung her head back, closing her eyes. Her head was dizzy.

'I miss her, Stace,' she admitted quietly.

'Oh, don't pull the Damsel in Distress act on me, sweetheart,' Stacy shook her head, narrowing her eyes, her temper still fiery.

Stacy continued driving in silence for about ten more minutes before her lips pursed into a thin straight line, in contemplation. Then she let out a sigh and spoke, her voice clear of annoyance.

'I feel like pie. You feel like pie?'

Jess rubbed the back of his head as he looked around the place.

Letting Matt organize a New Year's Eve party was a decision, made in a half-unconscious state, after too much wine and forced by the vague 'but dude, we're so gonna get laid' philosophy Matt preached after a couple of drinks.

Jess shook his head once before heading for the fire escape. He threw a quick glance back at the party where music was still blasting. They would have to clean the apartment for the rest of the vacation... that was, in case the apartment still existed as such, after the alien invasion Matt caused through inviting pretty much everyone from Ant Floor. There Chris was, waving Jess to 'come on back in', his move accompanied by a meaningful gesture towards a blonde chick who worked as a waitress in the cafeteria on the first floor of Literati, and then back towards Jess, mouthing 'so into you'. He shook his head with a smirk and dug a cigarette out of his jeans pocket.

He lit and sat down on one of the metal steps after brushing the snow off with his foot. He took another slow drag, took the mobile out of his pocket and dialed.

The sound of a phone being picked. Pause.

Jess breathed the frosty air in. It had been snowing for a couple of hours now and there was a white puffy crust all over the streets.

'Jess?'

'Hey, man. Happy New Year, Luke.'

...

- Can't you at least pretend you're a grown up?

- Oh, come on, you like that I'm quirky. And childish.

- No, I don't.

- Yes, you do. And you'll miss my quirkiness in case something terrible happens to me.

- Something terrible.

- Yeah. Like getting run over by a truck or, worse - running out of coffee.

- Rright. Anyway, just for the record, I do think you should go for the grown up thing.

- As long as you keep terrible things from happening, my very grown-up friend. Pour me some more coffee, will ya?

...

'Rory?' Stacy asked narrowing her eyes, holding the big coffee mug before her lips.

'Yeah?' Rory asked absentmindedly without tearing her look away from the window, watching as snowflakes piled over the sill.

'I've been wondering.'

Intended to sound like an invitation for interrogation.

They made up a pretty interesting picture right now. Both in evening gowns, heels kicked to the side under the table, big coffee mugs in hands, an ex-managing director and her ex-secretary celebrating New Year's first morning in a cheap side of the road cafe.

'Yeah, Stace?' Rory turned to give her an 'all ears' look.

Stacy took a sip before scooping a slice of Rory's pie with her fork and putting it into her mouth.

Rory rolled her eyes but followed suit, taking a bite herself.

'Do you have a thing for the Mariano guy?'

Rory coughed over a gulp of coffee.

'Excuse me?'

Stacy's hands crossed before her chest expectantly.

'You know, the James Dean wannabe who wrote a touching book and then got you crazy about lounging his second novel, right after which painted a dead body in the middle of your working area and then started accidentally bumping into you in the library,' she elaborated effortlessly.

'I didn't go crazy abo... We're not discussing this.'

'You're not. I am,' Stacy pointed out. 'So, for how long have you been into him?'

'Stacy,' Rory sighed wearily, 'I'm not into him. As guilty as that makes me feel for lacking any interesting news to share,' she added with a small smile.

'You know, I saw him shirtless once,' Stacy leaned conspiratorially over the table.

Rory rolled her eyes, shaking her head dismissively as she stirred her coffee.

'That printer on floor seven,' Stacy continued casually, resting back in her chair, 'the one that kept breaking down, one day I go into the room, hurrying to print that file and then BAM! I see the guy lying under the devil machinery shirtless, holding a screwdriver, shirt tossed over the back of a chair, hair messy, ink traces over his cheekbones and all over his abs... gotcha!'

Rory snapped out of the trance she had unconsciously fallen into and licked a lip agitatedly.

'So into him,' Stacy sighed triumphantly.

'Shut up, Stace,' Rory made a dirty face.

'Come on, Ror, admit it, guy gives you chills,' Stacy insisted.

'It's not that. It's just... I think he's interesting, that's all,' she shrugged.

'Yeah. Whatever.'

'He's one guy in there I can talk to,' she explained patiently. 'Plus, I wasn't the one fantasizing about him with a screwdriver.'

Their looks met and both laughed.

'Come on,' Rory waved a hand and downed her coffee. 'Let's go home. I need sleep.'

They got up and headed for the exit a little discordantly, each concentrating on her own unsteady steps in the heels.

'Happy New Year, Stace,' Rory mumbled as they got out of the cafe, frosty air sending chills down the spine.

'Happy New Year, Ror.'

'All the junk I could carry with one hand, Milady,' Jess declared, dropping the bag on the table in front of her with one hand while balancing the two coffees in the other.

Rory lifted her eyebrows above her Dumas copy questioningly and he jerked his head to the side, throwing his hands up in defense.

'There's enough in here to feed a little Chinese village,' he pointed out.

'Have you seen me eat?' she asked bluntly.

He rolled his eyes and took his usual place on the floor between two bookcases adjacent to the sofa (his corner), grabbing one of the books from her pile on his way. There was this small book pile on the sofa next to her, most of the books already marked with colored sticky notes, showing out in between pages.

'You really think you can go through all of these until next Monday?' she half asked, half challenged.

Jess gave her a look.

She shook her head with a smile.

'Rright, Your Grace.' A catlike smile crept its way up her lips as she continued reading.

They read in silence for a while, only the sound of pages turning interrupting it every now and then. Then she spoke, trying her best to sound as casual as possible.

'You know that printer on floor seven?'

'Huh?'

'The one that's always broken,' she specified.

'Yeah, I tried to mend it once, but it's cursed,' he replied absentmindedly, turning another page.

'Oh.' Rory swallowed dryly.

'No, really. It's cursed,' he affirmed, casting her a quick glance over his book.

'Yeah. Yeah, sure.' She bit a lip and continued staring at the same sentence she had been reading over and over for the last couple of minutes.

'Huh,' Jess smirked, his eyes completely distracted from the Maupassant third edition in his hands.

'What?'

'You're squirming,' he quirked an eyebrow.

'I'm not!'

'Yeah, you are. Huh.'

He shook his head with an amused smirk.

'I don't think I ever saw you squirm. It's entertaining.'

'Oh, shut up.'

'Whatever you say, boss,' he shrugged, even more amused than before.

'Very soon, my sarcastic pal, I will be your boss again. Only a matter of time,' she explained with a flair of importance that didn't impress him very much.

'Sure.'

'Excuse me?' she put her book on the table noisily. 'I am taking Literati back.'

'And that's how her reign resurrected,' he nodded in mock appreciation.

Suddenly she wasn't joking anymore, her temper switched from amused to agitated. He left his book aside and rose to his feet, watching her.

'You know what? It's fine,' she had started pacing to and fro round the coffee table. 'Believe me. Don't believe me. But once I kick some asses, you're gonna be begging me for access to this library.'

'God forbid I ever cross your way with the wrong foot, Mistress,' he countered in cold sarcasm, his eyes observing her intently.

He knew something was going on. It wasn't about Literati they were arguing right now, but he had no clue what it was about. Something was pushing him to find out.

'Yeah, like I really need lecturing by someone who never tried to launch higher than writing short novels secretly,' she snapped.

'And you've got it all sorted out,' he replied calmly. 'I suppose, if you really wanna run a place like this, a police record is kinda needed.'

She turned to look at him, her eyes a troubled blue. The color of a fresh bruise.

'What's wrong with you?' she asked, her jaw tight.

'What's going on, Rory?' he held her gaze steadily.

She shifted uncomfortably.

'What do you mean, what's going on?'

'I mean with you. What's going on with you?'

'Nothing.'

Arms crossed before her chest self-consciously.

'You know what?' she looked up at him, her expression determined. 'I'm not having this conversation.'

He shook his head at her leaving form.

~Seven Years Ago~

- What are we gonna do, Luke?

- Eh?

- Now. What are we gonna do?

A sigh. Nodding at people leaving with compassionate expressions on their faces.

- I'm gonna go open the diner.

Beat of silence.

- ... It will make you feel better?

Uncertainty. Hope. How do you tell a kid that you have no clue?

- I don't think so. But... it's something to do.

- Yeah. I think you're right.

- Wanna come have coffee or anything?

- No... No, thanks, I better finish packing, my grandma is waiting.

'Why are you doing this?'

'Huh?'

'Why are you doing this, Jess?' Matt repeated, his crystal blue eyes piercing Jess'. 'And don't come up with some we're kinda family bullshit.'

'I wasn't going to.'

'Good.' Matt crossed his hands before his chest expectantly. 'So?'

'I...'

'Yes?'

'I... don't know.' Jess sighed, lost for words. 'I just... wanted to, I guess.'

Matt nodded slowly.

'Just, be careful, okay? From what I know, Gilmores don't have friends. I wouldn't want to see you tangled, man.'

Jess shrugged a shoulder.

'Lucky me, then. Cause I never get tangled.'

... Monday finds you like a bomb
that's been left ticking there too long,
you're bleeding...

There was cotton candy and lollipops. And ice-cream. Lots of ice-cream. On a stick. In cones. Tons of ice-cream. People were eating, talking and laughing. There was loud music. Lorelai's music. Florence and the Machine, Oasis, Eurythmix, Blondie, Goo Goo Dolls, Van Halen, Radiohead, it was like one of Stars Hollow's naive, almost ridiculous, heartwarming festivals. With snowmen. Snowwomen. Snowkids. Snowanimals. People talking while drinking hot tea and eating cotton candy.

February, 2nd. Winter Festival. Seven years since Lorelai was gone. Rory looked around. Her throat tightened and, for once, she didn't care everyone could see she was crying.

Next to one of the cotton candy pavilions, Jess was talking to Chris. When their eyes met, his expression tensed. He bit a lip and breathed out, his eyes cautiously seeking her reaction. A muscle over his jaw twitched as he watched her approach.

Every step felt heavy, her feet stiff. A tear rolled down her cheek, then another.

Okay, jerk, you managed to make her cry, happy now?

'Jess, the delivery guy wants to talk to you...'

'Not now,' he waved Chris off.

She was walking towards him, the blue of her eyes unusually glittery, the shine of a knife before a deathly stab. He expected the stingy slap any second now. What the hell had he been thinking?

'Look, Ror...' he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

He trailed off when she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

... There's a hurting thing inside
and I've got everything to hide.
You're breathing...

'She would have loved it,' Rory whispered and before he could say anything in reply, she was walking away. Jess lifted a hand to touch the place where her lips had just left a salty trace.

... Hey, Hey, I saved the world today...
And everybody's happy now,
The bad thing's gone away...

...

I'm drifting in and out of consciousness, in and out of tune, in and out of life. Sometimes talking to you is the only way I can hear my thoughts. You were always so shred of life, that it's like your gravity keeps me going. It doesn't make sense without you, though.

The moment that it all stops. The moment I forget how to be myself without you, that's when it all ends. I haven't reached that moment yet.

Those words I never said back then, I thought them. I... someday I may write a book, and in the book... in the book I'll say them. I promise.

...

Rory Gilmore closed her eyes.

You told me tales of love and glory
Same old sad songs, same old story
The sirens sing no lullaby
And no-one knows but Lorelei

She let her head sink deeper into the pillow and let a deep breath out.

I've thought of you in far-off places
I've puzzled over lipstick traces
So help me god, I will not cry
And then I think of Lorelei

In a small town, more than 120 miles away, a middle-aged man in flannel and baseball hat swept the snow off his diner's doormat.

If I should float upon this stream
And see you in my madman's dream
I'd sink into your troubled eyes
And none would know 'cept Lorelei

Back in New York, a dark-haired man was typing wildly, his fingers hitting the keys of his ancient Corona typewriter faster than the speed with which snowflakes, tossed by the strong gust of February wind, were piling against his window sill.

But if my ship, which sails tomorrow
Should crash against these rocks,
My sorrows I will drown before I die
It's you I'll see, not Lorelei

'Hey.'

'Hey.'

'You saw Mitchum's memoirs? Memoirs of a Lion. Jesus.'

Jess shook his head and rubbed the back of his nape, turning another page of the book.

'Thing's hilarious, my cheeks already sting with laughter. Should've read it back then, but never suspected it could be given credit for being a masterpiece. Only title's bit wrong, I think they misspelled weasel. Anyway, you should check it out, it's completely...'

Rory made a step forward, palms pressing flat against his chest as her lips found his, shutting him up effectively. Initiating the kiss rather by instinct at first, she let herself sink into the feeling of his lips against hers and his heartbeat speeding under her palms, a silent confession she made to her own surprise.

It took his mind a moment to click into gear and realize what was happening, but the realization evoked electric jolts down his spine and he answered the kiss. Slowly, with the tantalizing rhythm of a shy new beginning. Memoirs of a Lion slipped between his fingers as he shifted his hands to her sides, the book landing with a muffled thud over the carpet.

When their eyes opened, her pupils were dilated, hazy blue, lips still slightly parted. He watched her speechless, his breathing a bit heavy.

Her fingertips burnt with the heat his skin emitted, or maybe it was only her. They stared at each other blindly for a while before she lifted her palms from his chest to cover her lips.

'Oh my god,' she swallowed.

Maybe, if she wasn't so surprised by what just happened, she would have seen a shift in his eyes. If she wasn't afraid of the tight sour feeling in her own chest, she would've seen how vulnerable he seemed when he took a ragged breath to say her name.

'Rory...'

'Don't say a word,' she shook her head and turned away.

'O-okay,' Jess mumbled, his look still transfixed as he watched her run away.

He blinked a couple of times, staring into the place where she had just been. Then he stuck both hands deep in his pockets and stepped backwards until his back hit the library wall.

...

- Do you think this is different?

- This?

- This. Us.

- Aah, this. Well, that's a tricky question.

- Oh?

- Whatever I say, won't be the right thing to say.

- Oh.

- Here, see? Like I said, tricky question.

- You know what, old man? This is like opening my eyes once. And then opening them again.

- Huh?

- When I'm with you, I open my eyes twice. And there's just... more. My world gets more... detailed, I guess. I like that.

- Close your eyes.

- Eh?

- Close your eyes.

- O-kay...

- I... I think I'm in love with you.

...

Song lyrics used: 'I Saved the World Today' by Eurythmix; 'Lorelai' by The Pogues.

Telling me what you think would make me really happy!