thank you so much for reading/reviewing!
michie-sunflower - thank you always for your wonderful responses! this one made me cackle because I also don't want to include anymore Christopher in the story so I totally get that. he has served his purpose and I don't have any more plans for him (thank goodness!)
sheisbeautiful-sheisnotme - thank you also for all your kind reviews! I so appreciate you. i hope this story lasts forever as well, I love love love writing it and will keep doing so for as long as I have ideas :)
enjoy! xoxo
disclaimer: I own nothing
Jess walks through the entrance to the condo building that he and Rory live in at the end of a rainy day in May. The walk from work to home isn't bad, and the weather was nice and mild when he left his office that evening. But three minutes into his walk, dark clouds brewed above him, mirroring the storm of thoughts in his mind from a request he received that day. He stepped into a shop to pick up a bottle of wine and a carton of ice cream for him and Rory, hoping that the storm would blow over by the time he was done. But as he stepped outside again, armed with a bottle of cabernet and a pint of cherry Garcia, he realized he would need to jog home quickly as the weather only seemed to be getting worse.
He breathes heavily as he seeks coverage inside the lobby of their building. After stomping his wet boots on the floor mats a few times, he takes one more deep breath before starting his ascent. His mouth twitches into a small smile as he is reminded that Rory will be upstairs waiting for him. Although he was not a fan of her changing anything about her job for him, he is coming around to the fact that it's truly helped and was never just for him in the first place - but rather for both of them. Not having to deal with the constant undercurrent of uncertainty about how and when they will see each other again has given them the ability to live more purposefully, and the freedom to focus that attention elsewhere. He knows too that it makes Rory feel good to be there for him, and that makes the changes she's made more acceptable as well. He wants her to feel good and equal in their relationship, even if he prefers to be the provider in some way - he knows that's not what she wants or needs. Though he sometimes feels she is trying to repay a debt she doesn't owe him, he realizes that no matter what the reason, it makes her happy to support him.
And he certainly has needed it the last couple of months. For better or worse, Jimmy has been consistently communicating with him. And it's brought with it a mixture of feelings. On one hand he appreciates that Jimmy is finally willing to be vulnerable and put himself out there at the expense of possibly being ignored or invalidated. On the other hand, it sometimes feels like an emotional assault. Like when he tries to ask questions about his personal life, a life that Jess has worked hard for on his own; he struggles to let Jimmy see anything past that wall. His work, his family, his relationship with Rory - their significance to his wholeness makes it all feel fragile. Too fragile to let a virtual stranger into. When he gets in that anxious state of frustration built from a need for self-protection, but a desire to try and be the bigger person, Rory's care is essential to recovering. He's made a habit of resting his head in her lap when they watch tv together at night and falling asleep there as she gently caresses his hair on those difficult days. The couple of times she has been away, he called her and asked if they could read on the phone together in silence; she easily agreed, and then they fell asleep on the phone together peacefully. They don't talk in detail about what's bothering him, because they both know that's not how he deals with things, but they have an unspoken understanding. She comforts him, soothes his soul the best she can with her presence - and he usually feels refreshed by the next morning. This isn't exactly one of those nights, the only contact he had with his father today was receiving a picture of a rare Ramones vinyl he found on the boardwalk in Venice Beach, and apparently purchased for Jess. Nothing earth shattering there, but a different conversation is on his mind that he's desperate to get Rory's opinion on.
As he reaches their floor, he walks slowly to their apartment to catch his breath. He sighs as he finds the door unlocked, again, despite his reminders that she doesn't live in Stars Hollow anymore.
"Rory," he calls from the doorway once he steps inside, "I hope you're here and not kidnapped. You left the door unlocked again."
He doesn't hear a response, and as he steps further into the apartment he smells something burning. He calls her name loudly again and jogs to the kitchen, where it seems the culprit is. Being that it's an older structure, the kitchen is closed off from the rest of the apartment, and as he opens the separating door, he is greeted by copious smoke and the sound of a timer going off.
"What the fuck," he curses to himself, covering his nose and mouth as he grabs a kitchen mitt and opens the oven door. More smoke billows out and he quickly grabs the pan and sets it in the sink, turning the water on to help quell the heat. He shuts the oven off and turns off the timer before stepping back into the living room, where he opens a window to take a breath of the fresh stormy air.
"Oh no!" he hears Rory's voice from one of the bedrooms and then the pattering of her feet. He turns around and she's standing between him and the kitchen entrance, guilty and concerned look on her face, "I messed up."
He gives her a sympathetic smile and steps closer to her, "Hi. What happened here? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm so sorry! I just wanted to make you dinner like you always do for me. And then I had a work call and right after my work call, the food was supposed to be done. I had a timer set and everything. But then, mom called to consult with me on a Stars Hollow debate, because I'm the reigning Lorelai. And of course, because it's me and mom we talked for much longer than I expected and I guess I couldn't hear the timer from the bedroom, and I never cook so I wasn't thinking about it, and I guess I ruined dinner. I'm sorry!"
"You don't need to be sorry," he starts, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her, "it was an accident."
She relaxes under his touch and nods. He pulls her into his arms and kisses the top of her head.
"What was the big Stars Hollow debate about?"
"It was a very complex issue actually," she begins, pulling her head back to look at him while she speaks. He smirks at the pure authenticity of her interest in the matter.
"They're having a town meeting to discuss changing all of the light bulbs in town to LED lights. It's interesting because Taylor, who typically is the grumpy old 'get off my lawn' man, wants to make the change. Our theory, mom and mine, is that it's because he figured out the math and it will save the town money to make the switch. Regardless, they are taking a vote on it because lots of people are against it."
His eyebrow perks up, "Don't leave me hanging, reigning Lorelai. What side are you on?"
She grins, "Well, as you know from experience, when it comes to Stars Hollow, I am a big fan of tradition."
"And here I thought that was just an excuse to get Dean off your back so you could go on a date with me."
She blushes a little before admitting, "yes, partly. But, I do support tradition when it comes to my hometown. And it would be weird to see the streets lined with those bright, ugly lights that make every space feel like a hospital room. We need the romantic ambience that only old school incandescent light bulbs can give us. We need to keep the magic in Stars Hollow, and I'm sorry, but there is nothing magical about LED lights!"
"Uh huh, aren't they better for the environment or something?"
"Stars Hollow lighting is but a drop of water in the ocean of environmental issues."
"I would have loved to see you debate in high school. So sexy when you're on your soap box."
"I was pretty good, but Paris could make people cry."
"Shocking."
"You know, she made me work on my words spoken per minute for our debates. Me! A Gilmore. No one talks faster than us!"
His smirk moves higher up his face, "I'm sorry, baby, but I would not be surprised if Paris holds that record. I'm sure it's very close though."
"You're probably right," she pouts, "anyway, Mom is voting against LED lights and so is Luke. Or at least she's convinced he will once she breaks him down."
"Getting Luke to go against something that saves money and is better for the environment is going to be tough."
"Yeah, let's not think too much about how she's going to make that happen," Rory suggests with a scrunched up nose. He chuckles and leans down to place a sweet kiss on her forehead. Her face relaxes and she smiles back at him. He moves his fingers down her arm until he's holding her hand. He gives it a squeeze before looking at her carefully.
"You really tried to cook?"
"Yes," she sighs, "well, nothing that would make you sick. The chicken was already made from the grocery store, I just had to heat it up. But I did try to cook vegetables, and that's what burned. I just thought, I couldn't possibly mess them up. You can eat them raw or cooked or whatever!"
"Hey, I'm sure they would have been delicious if we got to them in time," he assures her with a wink, "I'm proud of you for trying. Though you did not have to do that for me. I enjoy cooking for us."
"I know, I just wanted to be helpful. And surprise you. You do nice things for me all the time."
"You do nice things for me too. No need to add cooking to the list, unless you really want to learn. Do you?"
The face she makes in response is enough of an answer.
"I didn't think so. Let's order a pizza and call maintenance to check the fire alarms. They should have been going off with all that smoke."
She blanches, "was it really that bad?"
"Don't worry about it. I just want to make sure we're safe in case there ever actually is a fire," he explains, taking his phone to call for dinner, "speaking of safety, the door was unlocked again. Please tell me you locked your door when you lived alone in Queens?"
"Of course! But that apartment was so much smaller. I could walk in and put my stuff right down and turn around and lock the door all in one fell swoop," she colorfully explains, "here, the door is so far from everything else. I forget to go back and lock it. But I guarantee you everyone else in this building is wealthier than us. No one is breaking in here to steal anything!"
He gives her a look as he brings the phone to his ear, "It's not the material items I'm concerned about Rory, it's you. I already worry about you on the road, please don't make me worry about you at home too."
And then he's on the phone, ordering pizza. She turns away from him to hide the big smile on her face and goes to the kitchen to clean up the mess she made.
….
The rest of their evening gets away from him, not in a bad way. But as he lies in bed awake next to a sleeping Rory hours later, he regrets not talking to her about what was on his mind most of the day. He turns on his side to look at her, smiling slightly as he can make out one of her arms over her eyes while the other one seems to be hiding under the blanket. Quiet snores escape her every once in a while; she looks peaceful, and he really doesn't want to bother her. But he also knows that she won't mind, and it would really help him to talk. He reminds himself that this is what she wants from him, to be open and honest when he needs help. He hesitates just a moment before finding her hip under the covers. He squeezes gently and whispers her name. She makes a noise between a mumble and a groan but doesn't move. He squeezes again, and leans over to kiss her bare arm, deciding if she doesn't wake up now he will stop and just be alone with his thoughts. But she does move her arm and turns her head towards him. She takes a sleepy breath before turning on her side to face him.
"Did you wake me up? Are you okay?"
He takes a breath and pauses again before answering her.
"I did wake you up. I'm sorry. I can't sleep."
She yawns and pulls an arm from under the blanket to place her hand on his face. Her fingers are soft and warm against his rough stubble; he presses more into her.
"It's okay. What's wrong? How can I help? Do you want me to scratch your head?"
Her sweet, thoughtful response makes him smile.
"Thank you baby," he mumbles leaning over to find her lips with his, "but no. Not yet anyway. I was hoping to…talk about something."
"Okay. Do you want to turn the lights on?"
He shakes his head, "No, but can you come here? Closer to me?"
She hums and happily obliges, scooting until he can wrap his arms around her. She places a sweet kiss on his bare chest before turning to rest her head there, and his fingers tangle deep into her hair.
"What's on your mind?" she asks softly.
"I got an…interesting request today. And I'm not sure what to do about it."
"What kind of request? Something I should be worried about?" she mumbles against him. His mouth twitches for just a moment.
"No, no. Nothing like that. A representative from a city program for at risk youth emailed me. You know my book has been featured in some local stuff, and I guess someone at this program read it and read about me. They…want me to conduct a writing workshop for teenagers who have experienced parental abuse, addiction in the home, homelessness - all things that, if they read about me, they know I'm familiar with."
She releases a small gasp full of awe, "Oh Jess," she presses a hand emphatically against his chest, "that's a beautiful opportunity."
"Is it?" he questions, but not in a sarcastic way; he genuinely needs to know.
"What do you mean? What are you feeling about it?"
"I don't know. It doesn't feel like something I should do."
"What's holding you back?" she whispers the question as she runs her nails soothingly on his side.
"I'm not qualified."
"Of course you are."
"I'm not though. It feels like…they're trying to romanticize my struggle by showing these kids that I overcame that childhood. I'm not a hero or anything."
Rory's quiet, because she does understand why he feels that way.
"And I have zero experience with teenagers, or kids in general."
"That's not true. You practically raised Doula yourself for most of a year, and you've been the most amazing big brother to her."
"That was nothing. Also, I'm not a teacher of any sort, I literally lack the credentials to do this."
"Jess," she sits up just enough to find his eyes in the dark, "you are qualified. You're way more qualified than someone who has paid their way to having qualifications on paper. You have real, lived experience. These kids will relate to you."
Jess listens to her words quietly and closely.
"You're a published author. You own and manage a publishing company. You're more than qualified to lead a group of kids, that probably could really use the guidance and the connections, in a writing workshop."
He swallows, "I don't want them to think they need to struggle to make something of themselves. I don't want them to believe in the lie that going through…the horrible things I'm sure they have gone through are necessary for them to create art or be successful or follow their dreams. I hate that idea and I can't help but feel that's exactly why they want me to do this. They want to put me in front them as a symbol of some idealized life. I do write through my past because it helps me process it. But it doesn't mean that I wouldn't be where I am without the abuse and neglect and all that shitty stuff."
"I get that, Jess. I really do," she insists quietly, "there's nothing you can do about the organization's intentions with you. If that's why they decided to ask you, that decision has already been made. But, what you can do is take the opportunity and reach out to those kids to let them know that. Let them know that you see them, and you've been there, and do for them what would have helped you. Let them know that they don't deserve anything that's happened to them, and it has nothing to do with their abilities as writers and has nothing to do with their right to follow their dreams. You get to run that ship. You can take it wherever you want. And the more you're talking about this, the more obvious it's becoming that you're incredibly qualified. You see that, don't you?"
He muses over her words while running his fingers through her silky hair. He makes a reluctant sounding click of his tongue and sighs.
"I guess I kind of do see it. You really think I should do it?"
"I can't make that decision for you," she murmurs and kisses his skin, "I happen to know you would be great at it, and that you're more than capable of doing it. But ultimately you have to make the decision."
"I'm not sure how I would have responded to something like this as a teenager."
"A published author talking to you about books and writing? Please. You would have loved it. You may have acted like you didn't, because that's who you were then, but you would have loved it."
He can't help the growing grin on his face, because she just knows him so well.
"I think it would be good for you too, Jess."
He waits for her to continue.
"You've been on a bit of a roller coaster since your book came out. People trying to dig more into you, people that really don't have that right. It's all been…very close to home for you. This could be an opportunity for a shift of perspective. It could take you out of that feeling of being under the microscope. You can take care of the community that you probably wished had taken care of you when you were younger. It all around sounds like…a good idea for you. To me, anyway."
Her words hit his heart, and he knows that she's right. He takes a deep breath while he kisses her head.
"I love this brain," he mutters against her hair. A short, loud laugh escapes her. She kisses his chest again.
"I love yours too. And so will a bunch of teenagers that feel misunderstood and devalued by most adults."
They sit in comfortable silence, Jess thinking more over her words. The prospect is intimidating, because these are young lives that have been forced to deal with too much, similar to him as a teenager. And he's not quite sure what would have made a difference to him then. But he does see the potential of focusing his energy outside of himself, on a project like this, and hopes that he can handle it and truly be helpful. He brings his thoughts back to the moment, back to the supportive soul in his arms; gratitude blooms fiercely in chest.
"Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for waking up and talking to me. It feels…indescribable to have you by my side."
She smiles against his skin, "You can wake me up any time you need me. I always want to talk to you and be there for you."
He kisses her hair and whispers, "I love you."
She smiles harder, her heart still skips a beat every time she hears those words come from him.
"I love you too. Now, the only problem is you have to help me get back to sleep. I feel very awake."
His lips upturn into an obvious smirk against her head.
"I can certainly physically exhaust you if you'd like," he offers, hand gliding under the covers and down the soft curves of her body. She thrums but stops his hand at her hip.
"I would love that. But I have my period. I don't feel like making a mess."
He moves his hand from her hip to rest on her lower stomach.
"Ah, no wonder you feel like a furnace tonight."
She giggles, "what do you mean?"
"Your body heat is off the charts when you get your period. You probably don't notice, but I do. Sometimes I have to kick the blankets off completely to sleep comfortably."
She listens in slight wonderment, "Really? I had no idea. I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, it's just nature. Your body works really hard to do what it does, I'm sure. I like to imagine it's like a steam engine down there. Chugging along and radiating heat."
She giggles again and hits him playfully, "I'm sorry, are you trying to compare my reproductive system to a train?!"
"I wasn't exactly thinking a train but yes. I like that visual. And I see no need to take it back. Put your hand on your hip and then on mine and see for yourself."
She rolls her eyes but does as he says, "Oh, wow. You're not kidding. I don't feel hot though. Sorry, want me to roll away so you can sleep comfortably without my engine heating you up?"
He lets out a hearty laugh and pulls her closer to him.
"Not at all. It's worth it. Stay here."
"Okay. If you say so."
"I do."
Her lips press against his shoulder, where her face is now situated. She leaves them there for a moment before mumbling, "I've never experienced the kind of attention to detail you give me before. It makes me feel so special."
"I would never waste an opportunity to know you better, inside and out."
"And better than I know myself apparently."
"I do have an advantage. I get to study you more than you can study yourself."
"I suppose that's true," she mumbles sleepily, and then adds thoughtfully, "I've never noticed your body temperature at night. But I have noticed that you're always sleeping much closer to me than I expect when I wake up. Like you move towards me throughout the night."
"Huh," he yawns, "must be that magnetic Gilmore energy pulling me in. It's powerful."
"Mmmm or you move closer to me once you think I'm asleep."
"Well…you have said you have a hard time falling asleep in my arms."
"They're really hard, I'm sorry! It's not like a pillow."
"I understand, but I happen to like sleeping close to you."
She smirks and teases, "Someone sounds guilty. You do move closer to me once I'm asleep."
He chuckles softly, "Fine. Yes. Guilty as charged."
"And what a sweet crime it is."
"Goodnight, Rory."
"Goodnight, Jess. Wake me up if you want or need anything."
The workshop takes place while Rory is traveling for work at the end of the month. Though he would have liked to have her nearby for encouragement, he was at the mercy of the program, and he wasn't going to use it as an excuse to back out. The month went by quickly, as he was preoccupied with setting this up in between work and time with Rory before she left. He struggled at first, finding it hard to believe in his abilities and finding it hard to get over the irony of doing this when he hated being in a classroom as a teenager. But he got past it, and with Rory's help he faced and accepted the truth that he is equipped to speak to kids much like his younger self about the craft he loves so much. And, she was right. It helped him separate from the weird feelings and issues he had been facing since his book came out. It felt good to have something meaningful to work on, that depended on him having it together mentally. It was an interesting dynamic to step into the role of someone facing a room full of various teenage versions of him. He handled it how he would have liked as a student then - letting them basically do all of the talking, proposing ideas and asking questions when they felt like it. He wanted them to feel empowered, to know that they already have the tools they need, and they are fully capable of doing what they want with some guidance. He hated feeling lectured in any sense of the word in high school, and he still does now. He knew that approach wouldn't get him anywhere. Even though he was quiet whenever he wasn't being witty, he wanted his voice to be valued. Because beneath the snark, anger, attitude and everything else - he did have things to say. It all worked better than he had planned and it's inspired embryonic thoughts of possibilities beyond that classroom.
Not even twenty minutes after the workshop ended, Rory is video calling him. He grins as he gets in the car and answers her call.
"You waited longer than I expected."
"Oh, I've been staring at my phone for the last twenty minutes waiting for a sign that you were done and available to talk. Couldn't wait any longer."
He nods, "Well, it's over. And I'm available to talk if you want, I was just about to leave."
"Great!" she exclaims, "I can't wait to hear all about it. How did it go?!"
He half shrugs, "not bad. They of course were really fucking smart. And pretty receptive and talkative. So, I think that's a good sign."
"I think that's more than a good sign. I bet they loved you."
He shrugs again, "it doesn't matter if they did or not. I just hope they got something out of today."
"I'm sure they did, Jess," she assures him softly, "even if it was just making a connection to an adult that understands them. And a connection to someone that runs a publishing company. Did you give them your information to stay in touch like I suggested?"
"Of course. And Matt gave me the idea to give them some prompts for the zine. I told them to email me what they come up with and we will pick a few and feature them."
"That's so cool!" she exclaims with a large smile, "god, I'm so proud of you and your work, Jess. I've been talking about you to anyone that speaks English and will listen."
He almost blushes but instead rolls his eyes playfully, "don't bore people, I'm sure there are more important things happening in Germany. Isn't it late there by the way? You didn't have to stay up for me. I'll be seeing you in a few days anyway, right?"
"It's ten at night, it's not that late. And I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway. I've been so excited to hear about your day."
He smiles softly and asks again, "you still coming home in a few days?"
She nods with a yawn, and he watches as her head hits a pillow behind her, clearly on a hotel bed.
"Yes! There is a small change though," she makes a face, "my flight is going to land in Philadelphia instead of New York. They didn't book my ticket soon enough and the New York flight filled up. So instead of making me stay longer, they switched the airport."
Jess nods, and amused that she thinks this is an issue for him, he plays along, "Ah, you know there's a train straight from 30th street to Penn station now. I've taken it a few times myself."
She gives him a look that he can feel through the screen of the phone, "you're going to make me travel on a plane alone for ten hours and then on a train alone for another 2 hours? Poor defenseless me?"
He laughs and smirks, "You've got that withering stare. You don't need anything else."
She pouts fully now.
"Here comes the manipulation."
She bats her eyes, "Please pick me up? Don't you miss me? Doesn't your love for me traverse having to sit in traffic for hours in both directions? Don't you want to watch me eat an entire cheesesteak with extra whiz when I got off the plane?"
He rolls his eyes but smiles.
"Of course I'm going to pick you up, wherever you land. Just being a pain for the sake of it."
"You wanted me to beg."
"Maybe. I do love your manipulative little pout."
"You always tell me to put it away!"
"That's only because I'm virtually defenseless to it. I don't even know the depth of its power. You could probably talk me in to facilitating the next town meeting in Stars Hollow if I see it for long enough."
She grins devilishly, "That I would love to see. And I know mom would too."
"Stop, don't use my words against me. I beg you."
"My how the tables have turned."
Jess chuckles and shakes his head, "sometimes I really see the Emily come through in you."
"Thank you. She's taught me well. So, I'll see you at baggage claim in Philadelphia on Thursday?"
"Yep. I'll be the one with the wool pulled over his eyes."
"Don't be dramatic. Hey, who's going to watch the store? Since you have to travel so much farther."
"I love that you just now thought to ask that question."
"Sorry, I had my selfish goggles on."
"It's okay. You're more important than the shop. I always have my girlfriend goggles on," he winks, and she practically melts through the phone, "I'll get coverage. I can't wait to pick you up and take you right home and show you how much I've missed you."
She blushes, "it's only been a few weeks. I can't imagine there's a lot to show."
"You underestimate my imagination. Coming home to an empty bed whenever you're gone inspires all kinds of thoughts of how we can fill it when you're back. Just last night I thought we could be making better use of the headboard. Want me to describe all the ideas I came up with?"
"That's okay, you can just show me when I get home," she blushes more, and bites her lip, "Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh?"
"I think if my heart becomes any fonder of you, I'll be starting a Rory religion."
She laughs, "I like the sound of that."
"You would. The church would be a pizza shop. And the congregation would be me and all of Stars Hollow. And that translator of yours too, Felix."
She rolls her eyes, "I told you, it was a misunderstanding! He didn't get me drunk on purpose. I didn't know that I was drinking Coke mixed with beer, I just assumed it was more bitter in Germany than in America. It's not his fault I asked for two refills of what I thought was soda."
"Uh huh."
"Seriously! People drink that here. I didn't know. I just saw it on the menu and pointed to it."
"And Felix didn't tell you, despite being a translator that can speak both English and German."
"Maybe Felix doesn't know that we don't mix coke with beer in America. Just rum."
"I'm sure that he knows what a regular coke is."
"He was very nice, you know. He rode back to my hotel in the cab with me to make sure I got back okay."
"Uh huh, and you have all of your memories after that?"
"Jess! That's not something to joke about."
"I'm not joking about it. I'm still worried that something happened that you don't remember."
"I remember everything. And he didn't even come upstairs with me, just dropped me at the elevator. Like I told you before."
He nods reluctantly.
"Sorry. Can you blame a guy for worrying about his girlfriend drinking with a stranger in another country? You're kind and gorgeous and brilliant. I'm sure an impure thought or two has crossed that guy's mind."
She gives him a sympathetic smile.
"Jess…don't worry. I mean, this is probably the least dangerous trip I've gone on since I started this job. I'm only covering an election. I can do that in my sleep."
His mouth twitches into a half smile at that.
"I know you could," he agrees, "and I am grateful for the lack of danger. Just stay away from those tricky cokes, especially around Felix."
She gives him a look but laughs.
"I did tonight, I promise. We had dinner before I came back to the hotel. No booze involved. Well, not for me anyway."
"Glad to hear that," he intonates with a nod, "I would love to talk to you for hours. But you need to go to sleep, and I want to go check on the shop before going home."
She pouts for a moment but nods in agreement, "okay. Tell me what your plans are tonight so I can fall asleep thinking about you?"
His smile for her is sweet to match her words, "I'll probably spend an hour or so at Truncheon, just checking in and helping out. It's pretty nice out today, so I'm going to read in the park until I get hungry. Then I'll go home and make myself dinner. Do some laundry, clean up from the rager that I threw this weekend since you weren't home."
She laughs loudly, "you would never. Invite lots of people to our apartment to get trashed and talk your ear off? Never! And you would certainly not allow drunk people near our book collections, I hope."
He smirks, "Of course not. Just wanted to make you laugh."
"That's cute."
"Not as cute as you when you're laughing."
"What about when I'm not laughing?"
"Still cute. But beautiful more than anything."
She grins at him through the phone screen, admiring him unabashedly.
"I can't wait to kiss your beautiful face in a few days."
"Me too, Ror," he agrees softly, then looks out the window for a moment, "I'm going to go. Someone is eying this parking spot very impatiently and I've managed to stay away from black eyes for this long. Not trying to break the streak."
"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you."
"Love you too. Sweet dreams."
"They will be very sweet now that I have all those images of you in my head."
"I'll be doing the laundry naked, add that to your vision," he smirks, then asks, "hey what time is your flight Thursday?"
She bites her bottom lip, then mutters, "I land at 8:30 in the morning."
"I see why you saved that detail for last."
"I'm sorry. I can take the train, it's okay."
He shakes his head, "absolutely not. I'll be there. I'll see if I can stay with Matt or Chris the night before."
"Thank you! You're the best boyfriend."
"You make it easy. Goodnight Rory."
Rory sits fidgeting in her seat on the flight home. The plane is preparing to land, and she hasn't slept a wink. The friendly flight attendant comes to check on her once more before she sits down to prepare for landing as well. She's rattled and wholly unsettled, and while she hates that Jess will see her this way, she's equally relieved that she will be seeing him soon. The whole flight she questioned herself, her judgement of character and her personality. Is she flirty and doesn't realize it? Did she not make it clear that she has a boyfriend, even though she talked about Jess her whole trip? Did something get lost in translation?
She walks quickly to baggage claim, trying to calm herself down and put a smile on. It's been weeks since she has seen him, and with his news to share about his workshop, she doesn't want to take attention away from that. She sees him waiting, already with her luggage somehow, thick arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against a wall. She manages to smile wide as she greets him with a kiss, but she cannot stop the slight tremble of her body in his arms, or her desperate hold around his neck. He holds her tighter before pushing her back slightly. He doesn't miss the twitch of her mouth, like it wants to be doing anything other than smiling. His eyes bore into hers and his face conveys concern.
"What's wrong?"
She purses her lips and shakes her head.
"Nothing. I just missed you a lot."
He scrutinizes her further, she looks exhausted yet wired. Her eyes wide but dark, and her lips truly can't muster a grin now, but she tries to force her mouth upwards as she takes a shaky breath.
"Rory. Did something happen on the plane? Are you okay?"
She goes to nod in confirmation and shake her head at the same time, and its turns into a dizzying motion perfectly portraying her internal confusion.
"It's nothing. I'm alright. Tell me more about the workshop?"
He gives her a firm look, in a protective way not scolding, and then wraps an arm around her shoulders. He leads her to a more private corner of the room and sits them on an empty bench.
"Talk to me. Please," his words are quiet, but his tone is adamant. She looks at him, feeling silly that this has turned into such a big thing when she really is fine. Her face scrunches of its own accord.
"I'm okay. I'm just a little…unnerved," she shakes slightly, and Jess's eyes grow in worry. He keeps his arm around her shoulders and uses his other hand to hold one of hers.
"What happened?" he asks once again in her silence. She swallows.
"It feels silly."
"If it made you feel this way, it's not silly," he insists, moving his head so he can look into her eyes, "and it's me, Rory. You don't have to downplay or hide anything."
She looks back into his eyes, so loving and kind, and finally nods.
"When I was getting ready to board the plane in Germany, to come home…my translator, Felix, showed up. It was like from a movie, in the worst way. He was shouting my name and telling me he loved me and wanted me to stay or said that he would come with me, he bought a plane ticket and everything. He said we had a connection and that he wants to marry me. Security took him thank god because he was causing a scene. But it was so…unsettling."
Jess can see her flurry of emotions as if it's all happening in real time. His first instinct is anger, at the man of course. His brows furrow and his mouth scowls, thinking of all the things he'd like to say and do to him. But he can see that's not what she needs right now, as her eyes widen more at his look. He immediately softens and pulls her into his arms.
"Baby…I'm so sorry that happened. That must have been frightening."
"It was," she gushes, holding on tight to him as she finally allows herself to be honest, "it was terrifying. And the whole plane ride home all I could think was, did I do something wrong? Did I send him the wrong message somehow? I talked about you the whole time, Jess! He knew I wasn't single. I don't know what happened. Do I flirt with people and not realize it? Or am I just a horrible judge of character? I thought he was nice and professional. But maybe I missed something, or something got lost in translation."
Jess pulls back and places his hands tenderly on her face, turning her away from her whirling thoughts to focus on him and his words. He looks between her eyes.
"You didn't do anything wrong. Don't blame or torture yourself. He's the problem. He's the one that misread and misinterpreted. He decided to go psycho and freak you the fuck out."
She chews on her lip as she listens to him, nodding ever so gently in reluctant agreement.
"You're kind and sweet, and people may take advantage of that, but that doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you. Don't forget that."
She gulps and nods more confidently this time.
"I need to let work know what happened. So they don't use him anymore," she says quietly, playing with the hem of her shirt. He nods and leans forward to kiss her head.
"Okay. Let me get you breakfast somewhere, and then we can go to Truncheon. You can use my old office to make any calls or emails you need. That way you don't have to wait until we're back in New York. Okay?"
She nods and hugs him, "Thank you."
He stands up and grabs the handle of her suitcase in one hand and takes her hand in the other. They silently walk out to the car, Jess trying to grasp on to any answer for this. Any possible way to make sure something like this doesn't happen again. But the knowing ache in his chest reminds him that he can't control the world around her, as much as he wishes he could. Rory feels lighter, much better than she did on the plane ride, thanks to Jess's support. But she's reminded of his words on their facetime call the other day when they get to the car.
"You knew something was up with him," she mumbles as they get buckled in. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at the floor in slight embarrassment, "I should have listened to you. You're probably feeling so vindicated right now."
"God, Rory," his response is immediate and forceful, calling her attention easily from the floor to his face, which is etched with a combination of pain and sympathy, "I get zero pleasure from being right about something like this."
Her heart stutters in her chest, and her body relaxes in the passenger seat as her anxiety fades away. She didn't realize that was a part of her fear, that he would be frustrated that she didn't take his words seriously.
"Why would you think I would?"
She shrugs slightly, "I don't know what I thought. I guess I felt ridiculous that you could read someone without ever meeting him and I seem to have been clueless."
"Not clueless, Rory. Just kindhearted and trusting. And I would never in a million years change those things about you," he places a hand on her leg, "you're my world. I want you to be safe. I never want to be right about anyone's ill intentions towards you. But I will always be skeptical, and I will protect you when I can. So let me be that person for you, and you can continue being your lovely, sweet self."
Her lips finally curve into a soft, genuine smile and she nods. But Jess's face doesn't change yet.
He asks, "Did I make you feel like this?"
Her face drops as she searches her thoughts for a clue of what he's talking about, when he adds in a whisper, "At Yale."
She gasps quietly in horror and shakes her head swiftly.
"No! No, Jess. Not at all. This is completely different. You and I had a relationship, and we had feelings for each other. And even though your visit was unexpected, it wasn't unwelcome. What this man did was…completely unwelcome and unsubstantiated. It was disturbing."
His hard look softens slightly, but he mutters, "I did scare you though. I could tell."
She bites her lip before replying, "A little. But not because I thought you were dangerous or anything. Your words and feelings weren't wholly unreciprocated. It was your level of passion and insistence on leaving town that threw me for a loop. You know what I mean? It's not the same thing at all. This guy bought a freaking plane ticket just to get past the gates and chase me down after only knowing me for a few weeks and having a purely professional relationship. It made me feel sick. And in danger. To be honest, I am still a little afraid that he got on another flight and is going to come looking for me."
His face softens completely in sympathy now. He grips her thigh and holds her face with his other hand.
"I'll take you to and from work for as long as you need until you're comfortable again. I'll go everywhere you need to go with you, I'll be by your side. Don't worry."
She smiles, "I know. Thank you. I do feel safer already."
"Good," he kisses her softly, "let's go eat and have coffee. I'll tell you more about my week if you want. And about the ideas that Matt, Chris and I came up with for both Truncheons last night."
She smiles wider.
"That's all I want."
He squeezes her leg affectionately once more before starting the car and driving out of the airport parking garage. A strange form of a smile appears on Rory's face before she says, "There is one good thing that will come out of this."
He looks at her skeptically out of the corner of his eye as he navigates to his old favorite breakfast spot.
"I'm definitely not going to forget to lock the front door now."
"Jesus Christ," a horrified look takes over his face, "that's not funny, Rory."
She grimaces slightly, "too soon?"
He nods, still frowning, "I appreciate your attempt at dark humor, but any time would be too soon to say something like that after what happened to you."
"Sorry," she mumbles, and he finds her leg with his hand again, "I was just trying to find a positive. Something, anything good from this…weird situation."
Jess runs his hand up and down her thigh, while sitting in thoughtful silence. He turns to her once they park on a street near the cafe.
"Not everything has a positive. Some things just happen that shouldn't, with no lesson to be learned. Only suffering. I'm sorry to say I think this is one of those things."
Her lip trembles as she succumbs to that truth, and her eyes water slightly. He moves his hand up her thigh and takes as much of both of her hands as he can fit in one of his. His rough fingers and strong grip offer a much needed contrast to hers. She has felt weak, in all of her limbs, and her mind, since leaving Germany. And though she isn't weak at all, she understands that she doesn't need to be strong right now anyway, because she has him. His gaze sweeps lovingly over her, but the look in his eyes reaches beyond her own issues.
"Are you thinking about the kids from your workshop too?" she whispers the perceptive question. His roaming eyes stop and lock on hers. His head bobs slightly in confirmation.
"It's not fair. The shit they got stuck with that gave nothing back to them, except maybe contempt for the world."
She takes one of her hands from his and places it on top. They sit in silence like that, because there is really nothing more that can be said. The heavy air eventually dissipates as Jess half smiles at her grumbling stomach.
"Hungry?"
"Famished," she confirms, and moves to unbuckle herself, "can I get a cheesesteak here?"
He smirks, glad to see some normalcy in her again, "you can but I would recommend waiting until I take you to a real cheesesteak joint on our way home later. At a more appropriate time than nine in the morning, mind you."
"My stomach doesn't have a watch, you know."
"Oh, I know. It is a curious thing, that stomach of yours," he teases as he gets out of the car and steps to the passenger side. He opens the door for her and nods his head in the direction of the restaurant.
"Come on, let's eat a normal breakfast. You, and your peculiar stomach, will love the pancakes here. I promise."
"Okay," she smiles wide and steps out onto the sidewalk. As Jess closes her door and locks the car, she can't control the urge to survey her surroundings. He looks on at her, a little sadly because he hates that she has had paranoia forced on her. When she looks over at him, he schools his face into a small smile. He puts an arm around her waist and walks her towards the restaurant. She once again looks around when they come up to the entrance. He briefly kisses her cheek before leaning to whisper in her ear, "I've got you, Rory. You're okay."
Embarrassed at being caught, she snaps her eyes to him. But she finds nothing but pure love and care there, laced with genuine concern. His fingers pinch fondly at her waist the way that she loves, his chest holds a trepid breath as he waits to see that she believes in him. Her anxiety fades away for the time being as she allows herself to accept the promise of security he conveys to her. She nods softly and smiles back at him. His breath releases and he pinches her waist again before moving his hand to the small of her back, pushing her gently towards comforting normality.
yes, this was another sort of jess/rory supporting each other chapter. really want to show the continuous building of themselves and their relationship. I know i'm doing a terrible job of time jumping like I promised but i just keep having ideas pop up. hope you don't mind!