A/N: Gosh, everyone *blush*. Thank you so much. I probably should have clarified though that this story is only going to be 4 chapters long, which I hope won't be disappointing. Thank you again. You're all very sweet.

Two at the very most

"Morning, sunshine." A gruff male voiced called at the same time as the smell of strong coffee filled the room.

"Fuck." The word escaped her lips, and the man chuckled a couple of times, his footsteps getting closer.

"Didn't think I'd ever hear that come out of your mouth." Standing at the side of the bed, he looked down at her, a giant smirk on his face. "You're going to have to open your eyes if you want coffee."

"I'm good." She replied, squeezing her eyes even tighter together.

"Suit yourself, but I've got ibuprofen."

"Gimme." She extended her hand, making him laugh again.

"You've gotta sing for your supper. Or sit up for your drugs, as the case may be." Placing the two mugs on the bedside table, he pulled the chair closer, turning it around and flinging the t-shirt to the floor in the process, before sitting down.

Opening one eye, she looked at him, the same unruly black hair that she remembered falling down, too early for it to be gelled up.

"There is absolutely no way in hell this is all a bad dream, is there?"

"I'm sorry, but how the hell is someone bringing you coffee in bed a bad dream?"

"When I've been trying to remember what the hell happened last night since I woke up. Unsuccessfully."

"Aw, you mean you forgot all about last night?" Trying to stifle his laughter, he picked up one of the mugs, watching her as she shot up in bed, eye wide open. "Should have listened to Dorothy Parker's warning about Martinis, huh?" Smirking, a playful look in his eyes, he watched as she grew even more panicked. "Have some coffee. It'll help spring back the memories."

"Just confused if I stopped at three or four…" She admitted, biting her lip before picking up the coffee up, taking a big gulp. "Strong coffee. Good."

"Just like my Martinis, evidently."

"God, my head is pounding."

"So much so that you're mistaken me for God. Flattering, don't get me wrong, but I prefer to reserve that title for special occasions. I still go by Jess in real life." He chuckled, waving the bottle of ibuprofen in the air. "So?"

"Sitting up, eyes open, give me!"

"See? So much easier when you cooperate." Seeing her glare at him, he threw her the bottle but she didn't react in time, letting it fall in her lap. "You catch like a girl."

"I am a girl. It's in the genes or something." She offered a weak smile as she opened the bottle with one hand, trying to juggle everything. Extending his free hand, he picked up her coffee cup, and she nodded gratefully before swallowing a couple of pills, taking the cup back from him and washing them down with coffee.

"I'm sure doctors would frown upon that, but I really do not care."

"I won't tell." He smiled, sipping from his cup again. "Hope your headache gets better."

"Thanks." As a memory of the previous night flashed through her head, she blushed furiously, lowering her head.

"Oh, God."

"No, really, it is Jess." He smirked again, making her shake her head. "What's wrong?"

"I just…uh…remembered something."

"Was it ripping my clothes off?" He looked pointedly at the t-shirt on the floor and more blood rushed to her cheeks. Screwing her eyes shut, she started mumbling something under her breath. "I didn't catch that." Jess chuckled, looking at his almost empty mug.

"I was clicking my heels."

"Did it work?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Aw, you hate me that much?" Jess laughed and she looked away from him again, shaking her head.

"I…uh…no…and…just shut up!" She finally sighed, downing half of the coffee left in the cup. "Act faster, damn you." Realizing something, she looked down to check, lifting the blanket as subtly as possible. "If we…you know…why am I dressed?"

"I have weird fetishes."

Laughing at his remark, despite her embarrassment, she bit her lip again. "I have to admit, not being naked makes it the slightest bit better. But, for the record, I hate you for being so functional after a night of drinking."

"I've had a lot of ibuprofen. And coffee."

"When did you become a morning person?"

"When it's almost lunchtime. And I'm woken up by someone sitting on the couch I'm sleeping on." Jess shrugged, dropping his now empty mug back on the nightstand.

"Wait, you slept on the couch?" Rolling her eyes, she glared at him. "Jess, did we sleep together or not?"

"No." He laughed, shaking his head. "But I am slightly hurt by you thinking I'm this easy to forget."

Blushing even harder, she looked down, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to…"

"Imply that I am so completely unmemorable?"

"That." Lowering her head, she stared into the coffee cup, still hoping she was in a bad dream. "I'm sorry."

"'S ok." Standing up, he peaked at the almost empty mug in her hand. "I'll go bring more coffee."

"Bless you."

The night before.

"Stop reading that damned thing."

Jumping slightly when she heard his voice, she turned around on her heels, dropping the book back on the shelf in the process.

"Just wanted to see if anything was different in this edition." She smiled.

"Beer?" Jess offered her a bottle, the first one long gone, and she took it, grabbing the bottom, trying to carefully avoid his hand holding the neck.

"Thanks."

"Sorry about leaving you alone for this long…"

"Don't worry about it." She stopped him, shaking her head. "I can amuse myself. There are books around, there's no possibility of me getting bored."

"Really? 'Cause I can send Matthew over to tell you his stories about summer camp. You'll be wishing you were dead in no time."

"On second thought…" She laughed, shaking her head. "But seriously though, do whatever you have to do. I'll be fine."

"Things seem to be tapering off anyway, everyone will leave for the bar in about ten minutes. It's usually how these things go."

Finally looking around her she realized that the room was significantly emptier than it had been when she'd walked in. "You'd think I would have noticed everyone leaving."

"I've seen you walk into walls before while reading, this isn't unusual." Jess smirked, sipping from his beer. Tilting his head towards a couch, he looked at her and she shrugged.

"You said everyone's heading for a bar soon? Shouldn't you go with them or something?"

"Little bit of info. Half of the people in this room are poets. The other half are painters. They're the only ones that stay this late at anything, mostly because their art…" Rory laughed at the blatant quotes he'd stressed around the word as he continued his thought. "…requires them to be completely wasted and the alcohol here is free. Of all the people in the world I want to spend an evening with, drunk poets and painters are at the very bottom of the list. Seriously, Torquemada would be higher."

"I didn't think I'd be too high on that list either." She bit her lip, looking at him, angry with herself for having ruined the almost friendly mood as soon as she finished the sentence.

"Don't fool yourself, you're not worse than the Spanish Inquisition." He forced a smirk again, trying to save the conversation. "Though just as unexpected."

Laughing, Rory shook her head. "I probably should have called before, shouldn't I?"

"Dropping by's still cool."

"Good to know." She smiled, heading for the couch, with Jess following behind. Sitting a safe distance form her, Jess drank from his beer.

"What are you doing in Philly anyway?"

"Campaign trail. I Googled Truncheon, saw you were having an open house, decided to see what it looked like."

"Pretty much the same." He shrugged, smirking.

"I've noticed."

"Though we do own the bar that they're going to." He pointed at the people heading out, waving quickly, shaking his head at his friends' questioning looks.

"Seriously?"

"Well, us and the bank. Mostly the bank." He shrugged, grabbing another beer from the table, examining it to make sure it was still cold enough before twisting the cap off. "Don't gush over it, it's not that impressive." He warned jokingly and she laughed.

"It's still somewhat impressive. What's it called?"

"Redux."

"What?" Rory looked at him, slightly confused, trying not to burst out laughing again.

"Matthew wouldn't back down on calling Cedar Bar Redux. That was the compromise."

"Too bad Vonnegut's dead, he could have given you some free publicity."

"We're not that ambitious. Being mentioned in anything would be good." He smirked, looking around, noticing they were alone. "I'm glad you Googled us. It's good to see you." He admitted, his smirk turning into a real smile for a couple of seconds.

"You too. You look good."

"Now, now, Miss Gilmore, there's no need to lie."

"I'm serious. Maturity becomes you."

"And you're calling me mature. The blows keep coming." He smirked and she giggled, shaking her head.

"Don't worry, you don't look a day over forty."

"You're just trying to get yourself kicked out." Jess laughed, pointing with his beer at the door and Rory lifted her hands.

"Sorry."

"Oh, you do sound like you mean it." He remarked when she dissolved into a fit of giggles, smirking as well.

"I do. Really."

"Sure you do." Noticing her bottle was getting empty, he grumbled, standing up. "Wise idea to get the small ones, that was." Looking around the room, he shrugged, turning back to look at her. "We seem to be out of beer. Anything else I can offer you?"

"Jess, I'm good, don't worry about…"

"We have vodka, rum…" Picking up a bottle of wine, he shook his head when he saw it was empty. "No wine. Probably some abandoned scotch somewhere. Unless you have to go?" He realized, fixing his eyes on her again but she shook her head.

"Nah, I'm off duty tomorrow. Don't think the receptionist is keeping track of what time I get in. Unless you have something else to do?" She countered and he shook his head.

"Vodka or rum?"

"Whatever."

"The only other thing around is vermouth. Martinis it is." He shrugged, smirking before making two drinks, thankful to find the ice in the bucket still not melted. As he handed her one of the glasses, she nodded gratefully.

"Who was the guy in tweed?" She smiled, making a face as she sipped from the drink. "God, are you trying to kill me?"

He picked up his glass again, taking a small sip. "Seems fine to me. Guy in tweed was a professor at Penn."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. We talked. A bit stuffy and you two would have probably gotten along better, but not all that bad."

"Are you implying that I'm stuffy?"

"Nope, just that you're more used to talking to professors than I am."

"That I'll take. He was interested in your book?"

"He's clearly a moron." Jess chuckled, nodding.

"Modesty doesn't become you. Arrogance is better."

"I'll keep that in mind. He said he read it, we chatted about it for a bit, that's all."

"Jess, that's fantastic."

"It is pretty cool, isn't it?" He let himself be happy about it, smiling as he looked at her.

"Next thing you know, your book will be part of every Ivy league literature course."

"Maybe I did make the Martinis too strong." He chuckled, sipping from his glass again. "So what's new with you?"

"Other than the fact that I've been traipsing the country for a year now, nothing really."

"Really?"

"All quiet on the western front. You?"

"Working my ass off. About it, really."

"We're both very exciting. Already out of things to talk about."

"Dreadful weather we're having lately, isn't it?" He smirked.

"How about the…" Squeezing her eyes shut, she giggled. "…local football team?"

"Eagles?"

"Damn it, I knew it was a bird."

"Hey, I went to a game a few months back."

"How very all American guy of you."

"Trust me, it was very much against my wishes." Jess chuckled again.

"Girlfriend drag…" Stopping mid-sentence, Rory shook her head. "Sorry, that's none of my business."

"Chris dragged me. Not the guy you were talking to earlier, the other one, who I'm going to guess had to butt in as well at some point. Sorry, introduce himself." He tried to explain, amused by her discomfort.

"Yes, dead web-designer guy."

"I think he'd actually be proud of that title. He's a football fan, for whatever reason."

"Insanity, I'd assume. Like every other sports fan."

"I think that's a fairly accurate deduction. Though I do remember you going to a hockey game in high school, so you may just be hiding your true passion."

"Got me." Rory grinned, putting her empty glass on the table. "I subscribe to the eating style, nothing else."

"More?" He pointed at her glass and she nodded, shrugging one shoulder.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk."

"Huh. What makes you think I'm not?" He laughed, standing up and making new drinks.

"I assume you have no interest in it."

"I don't know, there's got to be some hoodlum points to be won by getting the goody two-shoes drunk."

"Jess, I'm not exactly in high school any more. I've been drunk before. There was a very unfortunate incident involving some punch on spring break a few years back."

"You did spring break? Wow, I'm seriously out of the loop." He smirked before handing her the glass and taking his seat again.

"Don't get too excited, I spent most of the time watching The Power of Myth."

"Leave it to you to party with Moyers and Campbell instead of real people."

"Paris was there, though I'm not sure if she counts as real people. But there was some partying." She admitted, taking a small sip from her drink. "And that's all I'm going to say about that."

"Tease." Jess smirked. "Have you read Snuff yet?"

"Not bad, but Fight Club's still better."

"Oh, come on, seriously? You too?"

"You're on. Choke?"

"Survivor." He shook his head disapprovingly as she started ranting about the books.