Okay... I'm am totally for free will and miranda rights, and all that stuff, but c'mon. It's common courtesy to review, people!

Chapter 14

Luke and Jess heard the door's bell dingle, but this time it wasn't annoying. Luke, who was refilling coffee mugs from behind the counter and Jess, who was taking an order (at the table numbered 'table by the window' by Elma and Gertie), both looked up at the door hoping to see who they wanted to see; the Gilmore girls. Obviously. Though eager with their paws up and begging, their faces didn't show it—their automatic facial expression is angry, irritated and tired.

Reverend Nichols and his wife entered through the door. "Geez." Jess's jaw clenched; he rolled his eyes, glared at the old, happy couple, and walked off with table's order, past Luke, who didn't look as irritated as his nephew. "What are you anxious about?"

"What are you anxious about?" Jess sneered as a weak retort.

"Nothin', you?"

Jess glanced at him uneasily and walked into the storage closet. Luke carelessly placed the coffee pot on the counter in front of Kirk. "Pour your own coffee."

"You know, part of the reason I come here is for the customer service," the weird man-child called after him.

"Shut up, Kirk," Luke said over his shoulder. He walked past Caesar into the very familiar closet – last time they had a serious conversation in the storage room, Jess had a black eye... the situation hadn't changed much.

"What's up with you?" Luke asked Jess, who was opening boxes with the 'fun cutter thingy' and pulling out pickle jars. Jess glanced darkly at him, like he did with, well, everyone and began stacking pickle jars on the empty shelves. "Nothin'."

"Yeah, 'cos when nothing's wrong with me I act out and storm off with a dark exterior."

Jess looked at him with a sexy scowl—if possible. "I'm Italian; it's what we do," he quipped, then turned back to the pickles.

Luke sternly folded his arms and stared down at his nephew. "I hear it's bad to keep anger built up." He pointed a callused finger. "You should let it out."

"Give it a rest, Dr Phil," Jess sneered, tossing the jar from one hand to the other.

"You've made that joke before," he said, brow raised.

Jess gently slammed the jar on the shelf and said "Yeah, well, I guess I'm not my chipper self," Jess said sarcastically.

Luke adjusted his stand, leaning against the door frame that had no door. He stared blankly ahead. "Hard to imagine such an irony."

"Stop," Jess vocalised huskily, his crooked mouth bearing his teeth.

"Just a... wild guess," Luke began, feeling a little more tough today, "Rory?" When Jess didn't say anything, but proceeded in stacking pickles with his back to Luke, the man in flannel continued. "I mean... I can't imagine there being anything else for you to get 'Italian' over... 'Cos, I did land you a job."

"Excuse me?" Jess sneered, offended. Luke raised his hands in innocence, then folded them again. "What?"

Jess turned to face him with an standoffish pose, hands flexing by his sides. Jess pointed a finger at him and said, "You gave me a tie. Okay? It's not like that sanctions for sainthood."

"I'm only saying: how likely do you think it would be for you to have gotten a job without the tie?"

"Keep talking about the tie and I'll throttle you with it," Jess threatened, sounding scarily serious.

Luke stared blankly ahead again. "It was a nice tie too..."

Jess slammed down another jar of pickles. "Just stop talking about the tie!"

"Fine, sorry," Luke said with an almost proud smile, then walked off. Jess glared at the man's back, then continued stacking jars, trying to endure as much peace as possible.

Then Luke walked back in with his regular gruff exterior and began stacking the pickles along side of him in silence. Jess stopped, frowned and stared at him. "What're you doin'?"

Luke glanced at him. "Nothin'."

Then when he realised what was going on, Jess smiled a wry and knowing smile.

Luke noticed. "What?"

Jess's wry smile didn't disappear. "You're hiding from her."

"Am not," Luke lied.

Jess then grinned at Luke's flushed cheeks. "Right, so you just had the sudden desire to stack pickles... I'm sure Mark Twain had the same desires."

Luke opened his mouth to speak, paused, then said "Shut up."

Jess smiled mockingly. "You know, you're supposed to be setting an example for innocent young men like me," he joked, stabbing a finger upon the wrack with a grin.

Luke blinked a lot, gritting his teeth. "Give me the tie, I wanna throttle you with it."

Jess raised his hands in false defeat, still with a grin. He began backing out of the room. "Whatever you say, Uncle Luke..."

Jess started laughing to himself as he backed out into the diner, then turned around sharply. His wry smile faltered and he stared ahead blankly. "Hi."

"Hi," Rory breathed with a sweet smile and an obvious nervousness.

There was a silence as the two of them stared at each other, smiling slightly and genuinely as the looked into each other's eyes in a cheesy love story kind of way.

Lorelai, standing next to Rory looked back and forth from the two. "Hi," Lorelai interrupted extensively with a wave and a fake smile to draw their attention away from each other. She raised a brow at the two of them. "Anyone having a total deja vu, or is it just me?" She said, her look of innocence being a false cover.

Rory cocked her head to the side and glared at her.

Jess stared at the two blankly. Stiffly, he raised the coffee pot, next to Kirk, up. "Coffee?"

Both Rory and Lorelai frowned.

Jess smiled crookedly. "Right, look who I'm asking."

The Gilmore girls sat at the counter, unfortunately next to Kirk. Lorelai turned to him, smiled and winked seductively. Kirk merely stared back. "Something in your eye?"

Lorelai shook her head at his cluelessness, "No, I got it."

Jess, without a word slid two mugs over to them. Then he pulled the worn out book from within his pocket, leaned casually against the bench and began reading. Hemingway.

Rory glared at the book, like it was her enemy. "Wow."

"What?" Jess asked casually, not looking up from it.

Rory scoffed. "I can't believe you would read that in front of me."

He closed it, his thumb still between the pages, and narrowed his gaze. "And I can't believe you would read Ayn Rand at all."

Rory jaw dropped slightly, and her adorable baby-blue eyes narrowed right back. "She's a philosophical genius!"

Jess snorted. "Yeah, one worthy of an asylum."

Rory just glared.

"Ayn Rand is a political nut – at least Hemingway didn't broadcast his narrow-minded views across the world."

Rory snorted in derision. "Yeah, that would imply having ideas to broadcast."

Lorelai groaned and got up. "I'm going to leave you two to it... I'd rather not hear the dork's version of foreplay."

"Mom."

Lorelai sighed, making her way to the storage room and added, "...Just no sex in the coat closet."

Rory grimaced at even hearing those words come out of her mother's mouth.

"Then where are we allowed to have sex?" Jess said daringly with a smirk, not realising what he had actually said. Oh, crap, he thought bashfully. "Sorry," he muttered, glancing up at her for a mere second, then back down at Hemingway.

"It's okay," Rory said, though Jess knew it wasn't. She could feel her cheeks flush. And yet she was glad he said it.

"No it isn't..." He muttered, silently to himself.

"Yeah it is." Jess looked up at her, nervous that she had heard him. Rory smiled at him. "It kind of broke the ice..."

"A very Gandhi approach."

Rory smiled proudly. "Not when you look at it as the Gandhi : Snowball ratio." She added an innocent smile.

"Huh," he said, looking up at her, smiling.

"So..." Rory let out a breath she'd been holding onto. "How was your night last night?" She asked, smiling. The two of them switching from only intense and intimate moments to casual(ish) conversation.

Jess dropped his book on the counter and leaned his folded arms further on the bench. "It was—"

"More coffee, please?"

Jess cocked his head and glared at the annoyingly nice looking lady, holding her cup in the air. He looked longingly at Rory and gave her a weak smile when she noticed.

He walked over to her then stopped. There was another pot of coffee exactly three inches away from this woman. Jess glared at the pot then at her.

She looked up. "More coffee?"

He breathed heavily through his nose. "Probably a good thing you're not pouring it yourself."

She looked up from her magazine and Jess began pouring.

"You might pull something," he sneered sarcastically, his glare still there. He aggressively placed the pot back on the table and walked back over to Rory all bright eyed and bushy tailed.