welp, i burrowed myself into a fanfiction hole to escape reality, so you get another chapter!
it's not much, but I hope you enjoy it anyway xoxo
thank you as always for reading and reviewing :)
disclaimer: I own nothing
Jess sits in his office mid-morning in early September. His and Rory's six year anniversary is coming up, and with her getting her period once again, he wants to do something special. At the same time, he is sensitive to their need of saving money for all of the, no doubt, expensive changes happening over (hopefully) the next year or two. He has already thought of an idea, but as much as he gets along with Emily now, he still does not love calling on her for a favor. He also does not love the idea of spending their anniversary weekend with her, but he knows from past visits there that she actually is always respectful of their space. And usually busy with her own responsibilities to be at their necks. So, with a slightly bruised ego and a desperate want to take Rory's mind off of two months of trying, he picks up his phone and calls the matriarch.
"Jess," she picks up the phone, "I hope this is a work call and not bad news."
He rolls his eyes up slightly.
"Why do you and Lorelai both assume something has happened to Rory whenever I call you?"
"Because," Emily huffs, "you're not exactly chatty. In fact, I believe the only times you have ever called me directly have been related to the business. It's almost as if you're not in a serious relationship with my granddaughter."
"Sorry," he chuckles humorlessly, "do you want me to call you just to check in? I'm not sure what that would sound like other than, 'how are you Emily? Still alive? Great. Bye.'"
"Well, you could say more than that!"
"I didn't think we had that kind of relationship. Do you want to gab? We can gab," he mocks, sitting back in his chair with smugness, "how's Clark doing? Or have you moved on to a new piece of meat? Maybe one of your museum friends? I know you find them annoying, but you can't help who you're attracted to. Come on, tell me. I won't judge."
"God, you sound like my daughter!" Emily exclaims to quiet him, "fine, Jess. You've proven your point. We are not meant to be friends."
"Jeez, just rip my heart out why don't you? I thought we were going to be Thelma and Louise."
"There isn't a person on god's green earth I would drive off a cliff with. Now, stop being insufferable and tell me why you're calling," Emily demands, and the tone of her voice stops him from teasing any further.
"Right," he pauses and then says, "I was just messing with you, you know? Just teasing. I respect you."
"Hmm," Emily sounds in response, "you must be calling because you need something. I've never known you to back down on your little wisecracks."
He clears his throat and sits straight up in his chair.
"You're right. Please have mercy on me because it's something for Rory."
She gasps, "you need an engagement ring? Oh finally! I already have it put to the side for you-"
"No," Jess interrupts, "no. I'm not proposing."
He hears Emily sigh in disappointment.
"God forbid you two ever call me with exciting personal news."
"Our six year anniversary is coming up-"
"Six years and this isn't a call about proposing?!"
"Anyway," he says, refusing to loiter on that topic, "I want to do something special, but we…don't really want to do any big traveling. And fancy dinners are out of the question because, well, you know how she eats."
"Gets that from her mother," Emily mumbles, "continue."
"I was thinking we might…come up for a weekend in Nantucket? Stay with you? Get some last beach days in before it gets too cold outside."
The tone of her voice does a one eighty as she replies,
"Oh! That sounds wonderful! I would love to have you both. What weekend?"
"I know this is last minute, but our anniversary is in a couple days so I'm hoping this weekend?"
He hears her take a breath.
"Would it have killed you to make a plan in advance? Five days' notice is hardly enough."
"I'm sorry," he cringes, but she cuts him off,
"And I won't even be here this weekend! I have my own travel plans."
His eyebrows lift, "really? I didn't think you still liked to travel."
She's quiet for a moment.
"I'm just going to a spa for the weekend. That's all."
"Oh. That's nice. Alone?"
"With a friend."
"A friend huh?" he brings his hand to his chin, deciding that he is going to try and annoy her into offering him the house, "what's her name?"
"You wouldn't know them, why are you even asking?"
"I'm just curious," he shrugs, "this way I have something to ask you about next time I call you."
"Well, anyway, this trip has been planned for a while and I can't just back out at the last minute. It's a gift. It would be rude."
"A gift you say?" he pushes, "wow that's a mighty nice gift. From just a friend."
"Excuse me, but I'm growing tired of your inquisition."
"Is Clark treating you? Are you going with him? Getting a nice couple's massage maybe?" he stands up and paces around the room, energy a little nervous at speaking to Emily this way, "hey a couple's massage sounds nice. Where's this spa located? Maybe Rory and I will join you and your…'friend'."
"Enough!" she exclaims with a huff, "you can stay in the house this weekend if you stop this nonsense!"
He gasps in faux surprise.
"Are you sure? That's really generous of you, Emily."
"You're not as clever as you think you are, you know," she responds slyly, "I know that's what you wanted. Why didn't you just ask instead of taking me through that awful circus of questions?"
"It was more fun that way, wasn't it?" he smirks, and then says sincerely, "thank you, Emily. Really. All teasing aside, this means a lot to me."
"You just have to do one thing."
He stops in his tracks and makes a fist, mouthing a curse word to himself.
"I forgot how attached you are to your strings," he mumbles and then asks, "what is it?"
"There are no strings. I just want you to take the ring with you."
His brows furrow.
"What?"
"When you stay this weekend, I will put the ring I want to give you in my bedroom. I'll hide it under my pillow, and when Rory isn't around, take it. Pack it up and take it home with you so you have it. Please, don't make me keep looking at this reminder that my granddaughter is living in sin."
Confusion lifts, and after a pause to think over her request, he chuckles.
"Okay. I'll take the ring."
"Thank you! Now, I do have a business question for you. How is Truncheon doing?"
Jess walks back to his desk to sit down and open the books.
"Oh, we'll get you the third quarter report after September 15th, but we're doing great. We've released a lot of new books this summer, including a new book of poetry by Chris. Sales are great."
"How great?"
"Um," he mumbles, looking quickly through numbers, "I mean, compared to this time last year, we're up about a couple hundred grand in sales."
"Really?" she asks with an excitement that further confounds Jess, "Because you know the people we are renting that space from, are looking to sell the whole thing. Including the space upstairs."
"Oh. Weren't they supposed to rent that out?"
"Yes, but they never completed renovations. Anyway, you and your partners take a look at numbers. Maybe it makes sense for us to buy it, and we can renovate and lease the space upstairs."
Her suggestion has him fretting; he runs a hand through his hair and bounces his leg.
"I don't know, that sounds risky. And expensive."
"Are you underestimating my negotiating powers, Jess? Obviously I would talk them down to something reasonable. They didn't even do the renovations they were supposed to do! And they already know us, so it would be in their best interest to just sell it to us."
Jess puts his head in his hands, because this couldn't come up at a worse time. With him and Rory trying to have a baby, needing to get a new car and eventually a larger home. But he can't explain any of that to Emily, so he says,
"Okay. I'll talk to them and get back to you."
"I will expect more information by Friday. Before you leave to stay in my home."
He sighs and thinks more strings.
"Alright. Fair enough."
There's a knock on his office door and he looks up, face easily morphing from stressed to relaxed as he sees Rory standing there with her gentle eyes and big smile.
"I gotta go. Thank you again. Bye."
"Talk to you Friday!" she sing songs before she hangs up. He places his phone down on his desk with a quiet sigh and stands up to greet Rory.
"Hi," he kisses her in the doorway, "what are you doing here?"
"Oh me?" she points to herself with a playful look, "I'm here on business."
He grins at her energy and tilts his head.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's September 2023."
"Uh huh."
"And that means it's Truncheon's five year anniversary! Well, this Truncheon."
He crosses one arm over his chest and holds his chin with the other.
"Okay…"
"So, I asked if I could write about the business for the New York Times. And they said yes! So I'm here to talk to the owner and employees."
His grin widens and he shakes his head, "that sounds like a conflict of interest to me."
"Nope! I can assure you that I'm here because I love Truncheon, not because you're my boyfriend of almost six years. Did I mention this is also your anniversary gift? Because you're hard to shop for you know, putting you in the paper is the best gift I could think of."
He laughs and brings her to him for a tight squeeze and kiss on the head.
"You're really going to write an article about Truncheon?"
"Oh yes! And I'm really here to talk to people," she pulls back to look at him, and the mood switches from funny to sincere, "I'm really proud of you and your work, Jess. And what you've done with Truncheon, for local writers and for the community, for troubled kids…you're amazing. I want to write about you and the sort of…family you, Matt and Chris have created."
Full of gratitude, he kisses her again.
"Thank you, Rory," he places another kiss on her lips, "You've been my cheerleader for as long as I've known you. These accomplishments are greatly influenced by you."
She smiles and laughs, "now that would be a conflict of interest. That can't go in the article."
"Fine, as long as you know it. That's all that matters," he kisses her again, "now, since you're here on journalist business, want to do some investigating with me?"
Her mouth opens in a wide smile, "of course! What are we investigating?!"
"Follow me," he takes her hand, and he leads her out the back door of the shop. Then, he walks them to an entrance on the other side, that she's never used before.
"Where are we going?"
"We are going," he starts, shoving his shoulder against the stuck door to until it swings open, "to see what the upstairs space looks like."
"Are we allowed to do this?" she whispers, following him up a creaky staircase. He turns back to smirk at her.
"Do investigative journalists care about the answer to that question?" he teases, "and you don't need to whisper. No one is up here. I just found out that they never finished renovations so it's empty."
"Is it safe to enter?" she asks, voice still quiet despite his remark. At the top of the staircase, there are two doors.
"We're about to find out," he states as he pushes on the door on the right. It opens to reveal a bathroom that looks like it's mid-renovations. Then he turns and opens the door across from it, and here he finds what looks like an art studio, an open floor plan with lots of windows and even a little kitchen. He feels Rory step up behind him and he holds up a hand.
"Wait, let me go in first. In case the floors are fucked up or something."
"Oh no, but I'm not strong enough to catch you if you fall through!"
He laughs and carefully steps in, "it won't be that bad. The wood just looks a little old."
She watches from the doorway as he slowly treks around the room, and then finally he turns back to her and waves her in. She grins and walks inside, looking around with excited eyes.
"This is pretty nice!"
"Yeah," he shrugs, inspecting the dusty off-white walls, "it needs a new paint job and probably some work on the floor, but it isn't bad. Unless there's mold in here or something. Oh shit. I shouldn't have brought you up here, come on let's go."
He turns to usher her out, but she doesn't move.
"Jess! It's fine. It's not like we're spending hours here," she steps up to the windows and surveys a bit more, "you know, this would be a good place to host readings and events. Maybe showcase more artwork? Are you thinking about taking this over?"
He watches her look around and shrugs, "something like that."
His eyes follow her as she steps into the kitchenette. Opening appliances and drawers.
"I wonder what they used this for previously."
"I think they said a photography studio, though it looks a little bright in here for that."
"Well, maybe that's why it hasn't been in use, and they gave up renovating," she suggests, opening a cabinet. Something falls out of it and onto the counter, and she catches it before it hits the floor, "oops. Looks like this cabinet is full of dishes."
She holds the item in her hand and turns to him with a smile.
"Look, it's a McDonald's Aladdin cup from the 90s! My mom loved these things. We ate there so often when I was a kid so she could collect them all. And I actually think they're worth a decent amount of money now, I can't believe someone would just leave this treasure up here!"
He grins and shrugs, "take them. No one's missing them obviously."
She bites her lip in thought, but her growing grin tells him she's going to do it anyway. And she does turn to the cabinet and starts taking them out and shoving them in her tote bag.
"Oh! They have the Pocahontas Meeko cup! Mom is going to be so jealous, we never got that one when I was little."
He chuckles, but her words unlock an idea in his head. He looks around the space again, and after what must be a few minutes lost in his thoughts, he feels Rory's hand on his arm.
"Do you like it?"
He shakes away his vision for now and turns to her with a small smile.
"Could be something special," he takes her hand, "come on, let's get out of here before we get an infection or something."
"Super protective Jess to the rescue!"
"I hate it when you call me that."
"I know, that's why I only do it sometimes."
He laughs as he follows her back down the stairs. Once they're outside again, he takes her hand and leads her to the sidewalk.
"Let's go for a walk before we go back."
"Okay," she shrugs, "I told work I would be here the rest of the day, so I have time."
He smiles softly and squeezes her hand.
"How are you feeling?"
She looks up at him and then back to the street.
"I'm okay. It's day four so cramps aren't too bad or anything."
"You need anything? Supplies or chocolate or anything?"
She smiles, and as she sees a car go by she thinks of something.
"There is something I wanted to ask you."
He looks over at her, "what's that?"
"You know how you said we should get a bigger, more reliable car?"
He nods.
"Well, I was wondering if we could maybe get a jeep?"
His eyebrows furrow and then he makes an 'ah' sound in understanding.
"Like your mom."
"Yes," she looks bashful, "but I'm okay with a brand new one. I don't have any peculiar attachments like she does."
"No? So, you don't have a stuffed rooster that's coming apart at the seams?"
"Okay, I don't have any car attachments. And colonel clucker has been with me through a lot!"
"Right," he sighs, "I don't know, Rory. Jeeps aren't the safest."
"None of them?! There are so many different kinds, aren't there?"
He scratches his head and shrugs.
"You're right, there are. But they don't do well in crash tests, and they're not as easy to drive as other cars. Maybe we can get one in the future, if we're in a position to financially, for fun. Like weekend road trips and stuff. But I don't think I would be comfortable with that being our everyday car."
"We don't even drive every day," she argues, "and how do you know all that?"
He looks over at her briefly.
"I've been doing my research."
"Without me?"
He stops on the sidewalk and turns to her.
"I told you I would make this as easy as possible for you, didn't I? I wasn't planning on choosing a car without you. I just wanted to narrow it down to a few, and then we could pick one together. I wanted to save you the time and labor of figuring it out. And also wait to discuss it after you were pregnant, so I didn't overwhelm you with more logistical stuff too soon. Sorry. Does that bother you?"
She cannot deny the sweetness behind his reasonings, and her confused look easily switches to a smitten one.
"No," she shakes her head, "not when you explain it like that."
He grins in relief, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Also," he says now with a musing smile, "I hear that deer are prone to jeeps."
Her face drops and she tries to scowl at him, but it turns into something timid and cute. He bites his lip to stop from laughing at her.
"I shouldn't have put that in the book."
"I disagree. People don't talk about the aggression of deer enough, you know. All they ever say is to stop for them, they don't tell you that you run the risk of them ramming into your car once you're stopped."
"It was scary, and it made me even later for that exam! Such a horrible day."
"Okay, I'm sorry for bringing it up."
She hums in thought as they start walking back towards Truncheon.
"Well, it's probably good that you brought it up. Because…did I forget to mention a few weeks ago that my twenty year Chilton reunion is coming up? In October? And I want you to go with me?"
"I don't know, did you 'forget', or did you wait until a moment where you would be in a position to ask? Since I just made fun of you."
"Paris wants me to go," she ignores his comment, "please come with me?"
He grimaces, "That sounds painful."
"Come on, it's casino themed."
"That sounds like I have to dress up too."
"You look so good in a suit! My hands will be all over you all night."
That makes him smirk, and tilt his head in consideration.
"Paris said she wants to play blackjack with you too. Well, she said she wants to count cards, but I don't condone that."
"Oh, stealing from a bunch of rich pricks?" his voice is mirthful, "That would be fun."
She laughs but shoots him a funny look; mindful of the recent chapter she wrote in her book and the reality of her upbringing.
"I was one of those rich pricks you know."
He stops in front of Truncheon and turns to her, face lifted in surprise.
"No, you weren't. Pretty sure I dated you while you were a student at Chilton. You were not one of them."
She shrugs one shoulder and looks down, "but in a way, I was. In a way, I am. I always have something to fall back on. Most people don't have that."
With his hands in his pockets, he looks over her.
"I wasn't trying to offend you," he states with a half shrug, "and there's a difference between having money to fall back on and growing up with money as your primary source of power. That's what I mean by rich pricks."
She looks up at him but doesn't respond.
"You are a Gilmore, there's no avoiding that. And there is a legacy attached to it as you said in that last chapter you showed me of your book," he sees a small smile grow on her face, "and it's not like I don't benefit from your lineage too," he holds a hand up towards the Truncheon sign behind him, "but…we're not out there weaponizing it."
She nods in understanding, an appreciative look on her face.
"Except for the Yacht thing, and you did serve time for that."
Her jaw drops, "I did not 'serve time'! I did community service."
He smirks, "that's serving time. Is it not?"
"You make it sound like I was locked up in jail."
"It's okay, nothing to be embarrassed about," he places a hand on her shoulder, "I've been arrested too. It's no big deal. The first time, anyway. I would avoid it happening again. Just let me know if you feel the itch, we'll get through it together."
"You just told me to steal all these cups!" she argues pointing to her bag.
"Shhh, don't say that so loud. You never know where the fuzz might be lurking."
She playfully hits his chest, and he catches her hand with a laugh, he places an affectionate kiss on it.
"Please don't tell our kids that I stole a yacht," she begs shamefully, "not until they're older and mature enough to know that it's wrong."
"You mean like…twenty years old? About that age? Or wait, were you still nineteen when it happened?" he mocks with a raised brow.
"Ha-ha," she replies with an eye roll, "I was twenty. And no, clearly that is still an impressionable time for a person. Maybe when they're thirty."
He kisses her hand again, "I'll try, but I'm pretty sure you're putting it in your book. And don't you think our kids will want to read your book? Way before thirty."
Her fight softens and she grins.
"So. You'll go to the Chilton reunion with me?"
"If I get the feeling back in my arm by then, sure."
"Oh, I hardly twisted it," she smiles wide, "I can't wait to show you off."
He grins now and leans in to kiss her.
"The feeling is mutual," he turns to open the door to Truncheon, "I have to make a phone call, but Liam and Brooke are all yours if you want to interview them, Reporter Gilmore."
"Great!" she enthuses walking through the door, and says to him in a hushed tone, "I wanted to save the best for last anyway."
"You're just kissing up to me so I don't renege on the reunion," he leans over and whispers in her ear, "all you have to do is promise me you'll wear something I can ogle at all night."
"You ogle at me in sweatpants!"
"So, it's an easy promise, isn't it?" he teases walking up to where Liam is checking shelves, "hey, Rory is here as a New York Times reporter today, not as my girlfriend or your friend, okay? Please answer her questions respectfully and genuinely."
Liam stands up straight and mock salutes him.
"Sir, yes sir," he turns to Rory, "he runs a tight ship here, Miss Gilmore. Sometimes he makes me skip my lunch break, but I'm happy to do it because I am fully dedicated to my service here at Truncheon."
Rory covers her mouth as she laughs at his antics; Jess rolls his eyes and gives him a look.
"Got it out of your system?"
"He really is nice, Miss Gilmore. He puts wristbands for Coney Island in people's mailboxes, you know, and he gives kids in need a ride home instead of making them ride the subway home at night. He's just intense about his work, is all."
Jess huffs and turns to Rory who looks very entertained, "how about we go find Brooke?"
"Jess," she laughs, "get out of here. We'll be fine."
He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before throwing Liam one more look of warning and walking back to his office.
He closes the door behind him and takes a seat at his desk. He picks up his phone and takes a breath of strength before calling her again.
"You better not be calling to ask more questions about my plans this weekend."
"No, I got the message," he laughs, "we're not friends like that."
"Good. I'm about to leave for work, so please make this quick.
"Well, I went up and looked at the space. Door was open."
"I don't care if you picked a lock, I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time," she quips back quickly, "What did you think?"
"The space is nice. I like it a lot."
"Wonderful, so shall I start negotiating?"
"Hold on, hold on," he stops her, "before we get ahead of ourselves, I don't want to buy the space to lease it out to someone else."
"Oh," she replies with a tone of disappointment, "doesn't sound like you have a profitable plan."
"Just hear me out," he says, "I think it can be profitable in a way. And I promise to do as much of the renovations myself as I can. So…can I tell you what I have in mind?"
She sighs, and the beat before she responds tells him that she's just checked her watch.
"Five minutes. I'm listening."
"Now that we're home, I am officially taking my reporter hat off and stepping back into my girlfriend shoes," Rory states as she helps Jess open up their Chinese takeout boxes for dinner. She turns to him with a sympathetic sigh, "you had another nightmare last night."
He slows his movements and looks over at her.
"I remember. And I remember your soothing words in my ear to calm me down."
Her mouth twitches but a frown overpowers it.
"Jess…you've been having them since that day. Since you saw that...terrible man."
He turns his focus back to the food in front of him and shrugs one shoulder.
"Not every night," he meets her eyes again, "right?"
"No," she confirms, "not every night. But I'm still worried about you."
He frees his hands completely and turns to her.
"Thank you," he takes her hand in his, "but I'm okay, Rory. Really. The nightmares suck, but they'll stop eventually."
She swallows, "what if they don't?"
He looks her over, taking in her genuine distress and eyes full of care.
"Then…I'll start seeing my therapist again regularly," he offers with a shrug, "I'll give it until the end of the month."
She gives him a look, "how about another week?"
"Rory…"
"Jess, do you know how hard it is to hear you whimpering in your sleep? And how scary it is to put my hands on you and feel your heart racing when you should be resting? And knowing I can't do anything about it except try to soothe you afterwards," her shoulders fall, "you've worked so hard for your peace."
He takes a breath before responding.
"I do know how that feels. I remember the nightmares you had after that guy accosted you at the airport in Germany. It was horrible, and I felt helpless too. But they went away, didn't they?"
"Yes, after I got some closure."
He frowns, "that wasn't closure. And there's no way for me to get closure with this."
She bites her lip and stares at him, causing him to narrow his eyes in confusion.
"What?"
"Well…he gave his email when he checked out. To sign up for Truncheon's newsletter and promotions."
His face hardens slightly, "and?"
The look on his face causes her to waver slightly.
"I don't know. It's a way to communicate with him…get closure maybe."
He knows he's scowling, because Rory's eyes widen and she sits back slightly; her fright enables him to realize his anger is misplaced, and he manages to drop his intimidating look and emotions.
"Besides the fact that I'm pretty sure using customer's emails for anything other than Truncheon related communication is illegal," he replies softly with a touch of humor, "that is not something I'm interested in doing."
She looks him over and eventually nods, "okay. I just thought…I care about you so much, Jess. And the people that hurt you deserve to understand the gravity of what they did. I thought he should know. And I know that if the roles were reversed, and you had the opportunity to say something to someone that hurt me, you would. I know because you have, and I guess I thought I could do that for you too."
His throat tightens with emotion; his heart pulses with a consuming love that leaves him momentarily wordless.
"You have," he finally says, voice rough but eyes so soft, "with Jimmy. And in a way, with Liz too. I see and appreciate whenever you step into conversation with her in tense moments, to avoid me or Doula having to deal with her."
She looks at him but doesn't reply.
"I'm okay, Rory. I'm not holding back anything, the nightmares just have to do with seeing him out of nowhere, I'm sure. I'm fine when I'm awake, because I am aware of what I have. Someone like you by my side. Don't worry about me. We have more important things to worry about."
She sighs, "Like what?"
"Like…which rooms you will be comfortable having sex in at your grandmother's house this weekend."
His words shift the energy in the room completely; she gapes at him.
"What?! None!"
"Come on, we have to compromise. There has to be at least one, or am I going to have to break into a neighbor's house and take you in one of their bedrooms? Or maybe kitchen, dining room, library. All those houses are so big, we have so many options."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, I buried the lead, didn't I?" he muses, handing Rory a container of Hunan chicken, "how does celebrating our six year anniversary in Nantucket this weekend sound to you?"
Her confused features brighten into a surprised smile, "really? That sounds great! I'm shocked you want to spend our anniversary with my grandmother, but I'm totally down."
"I forgot another little detail," he holds his fingers up to imply the size, "she won't be there. She's letting us use the house for the weekend. No Emily, no staff. Just you, me, expensive booze, and a lot of empty rooms with plenty of space for fun."
"Wow, she's just letting us stay in the house completely alone?! What kind of wizard you?"
He laughs around his bite off egg roll.
"Seriously," she continues, "Grandma got much more chill after my grandfather died, but with you she's just…"
"Frank at the Sands?"
His words recall a memory, and she smiles nostalgically, "yes. Like Frank at the Sands. How do you do it?"
"Trust me, I'm not doing anything special," he shrugs, "I don't know. She's also working on negotiating with the owners of Truncheon's building to buy it and turn that space we looked at today into something."
Rory gasps, "that was her idea?!"
"Yep."
"Oh my god," she puts down her plate of food, "I think you're closer with Emily than I am."
"Oh, I don't know about that. Especially since I annoyed her into agreeing to this weekend."
Rory shakes her head in disbelief and smiles slowly.
"I'm glad she's like this with you, with us," she remarks with a telling smile, "it's almost like…you do get the family you should have had. When you were little."
He sits back on the couch, eyes fixed on her; he understands she is still trying to find a way to make him feel better about recent events, even though it's not necessary. But he's grateful for her words anyway, and in a way, she's right. He smiles and nods.
"Yes, it is," he replies softly, reaching his hand over to squeeze her arm, "without Emily's support, I don't know what I'd be doing. Probably still just meeting with writers here in New York. Wouldn't have been able to…do the community thing, meet Brandon or Liam or Connor."
Rory gives him a sweet look as he speaks these realizations. He smirks and jokes,
"Wow, maybe I should stop trying to provoke her. She's really made a difference in my life."
She laughs and stage whispers, "don't change a thing. I think she secretly likes it."
He laughs with her, and they both go back to their forgotten dinners. She turns the TV on to something that he's not paying any attention to, and eventually he needs to satiate the urge to make sure Rory knows his gratitude for her.
"Thank you," he says suddenly, causing her to turn a curious look his way, "for caring about me the way you do."
Her eyes lower lovingly, "you're everything to me. You, teenager you, little Jess. All of you is important to me."
He takes a second to gather his thoughts, because her sentiment deserves to be acknowledged for its colossal impact.
"It's…comforting to have someone that considers and loves my entire existence. I haven't met a lot of people in life that are willing to travel back in time with me that way, unless it's to comment on how I've overcome it," he explains softly, gazing earnestly into her eyes, "But you care for that person. You want to help him, younger me, and that's…more than I could have ever asked from you. That man may have hurt me, and yelled at me, and my mother, but…you soothe all of those things for me now. Thank you."
"It's supposed to be eighty-five degrees tomorrow! That sounds like a beach day to me."
Rory shares this fact with cheer from the passenger seat of the car. They both left work early in the day to travel to Nantucket, but with the drive and ferry ride, they are still arriving after dark. Jess smirks.
"You just love global warming, don't you?"
"Hey, we don't know if this is because of global warming," she argues, "it is technically still summer you know!"
"Sure, very late summer. Nearing the start of Autumn. In one of the most northern parts of the United States. I'm sure eighty five degree weather was the norm today two hundred years ago."
"Does that mean you're not going to hang out on the beach with me?"
He laughs and grabs her hand from her lap to hold as he drives.
"And miss an opportunity to see you in a swimsuit? I'm not an idiot."
"Great, so we will be unethical together and enjoy this particular effect of global warming."
He brings her hand to his mouth for a kiss.
"Sounds like a date," he mumbles as they pull up to the large but welcoming house.
"I hope we see dolphins," Rory bounces slightly in her seat, waiting for him to park the car, "oh and if we see any cool boats we have to take pictures for Connor!"
Warmth spreads through him at her consideration of him.
"I think that's a great idea," he kisses her hand once more, "we'll have to pick him up a souvenir too."
"I love any kind of shopping," she grins taking off her seatbelt, "except home improvement. Walking around home depot makes me want to throw myself into a woodchipper."
"Jesus, that's a disturbing thought," Jess mutters in response as they both get out of the car, "guess we won't be moving into a fixer-upper when the time comes."
She makes a face as they pull their bags from the trunk, "there are plenty of perfect homes in good condition, I'm sure."
"I'll be on the lookout," he promises and holds his hand out to take her suitcase. She gives him a look.
"It has wheels. I'm fine."
"Give me your other bag then."
"It's barely a ten foot walk into the house! I can carry my stuff."
"Miss Eyre," he teases, "this is supposed to be a romantic weekend. So let me be a gentleman and give me something to carry."
She fights a smile and hands over her large tote bag filled with her computer, notepad, and some books.
"Here. This is heavy anyway."
"My muscles are at your service," he shifts the bag onto his shoulder, "come on. Let's go put our stuff down and make out in every room."
"We'll see about that," she replies, leading them to the house. She punches in the numbers her grandmother gave her to unlock the front door, and soon they're inside getting settled.
After stashing their things in the guest bedroom, and a quick make out session thanks to Jess's persistence, they wander down to the kitchen to look for menus or food. Rory gasps when she sees two flower arrangements on the kitchen counter, one filled with over a dozen red and pink roses, and the other a particularly pretty mixture of orchids and calla lilies. Jess chuckles humorlessly as she steps up to the flowers and takes out the card attached to the roses.
"'Happy Anniversary, dears. Please enjoy the house, the fridge is stocked and there's a bottle of Veuve chilling for you too. Xoxo Emily.' Oh my god, that is so sweet!" Rory croons, holding the card to her chest as she looks at the flowers. Jess grins but shakes his head.
"I can't believe your grandmother is showing me up."
Her eyes quickly shoot to him, "what do you mean?"
He steps up and pulls forward the seasonal arrangement, "these ones are from me. I guess she ordered the roses."
"Aw, Jess," Rory's grin widens, "these are gorgeous! I'm sorry I thought they were both from her. Thank you so much. I love them."
She places a quick but passionate kiss on his lips. They part with loving smiles and look at the flowers again.
"I guess I should have expected it," he reasons, poking a rose petal, "when I called her to let her know flowers would be coming, she asked me in ten different ways if I was getting roses. Because 'they are the flower of love, you know'."
Rory chuckles and kisses his face, "I know that any flowers you give me mean love. And that's so sweet that she got the roses for both of us!" she exclaims in realization, "oh, she loves you."
He swallows down the uncomfortable emotions that makes him feel and gives her a half-smile.
"She loves us, together," he argues and steps away to open the fridge, "I see steaks in here with our name on them."
"Oh, we can't eat her steaks!"
"No," he shakes his head pulling them out of the fridge to show her the note taped to it, "they literally have our names on them. 'Jess & Rory - eat these for dinner Friday night. Or they will go bad and that would be a waste'."
Rory laughs in disbelief, "okay then. I guess they do have our names on them."
He smirks and pulls vegetables and sweet potatoes out too, "I'll cook dinner. Want to help?"
"None of these are on my 'basic meals to learn list'. I think I'll just watch," she makes a face, "but first you have to open your anniversary gift."
He places his hands on the counter and gives her a dubious look.
"You said the article was my anniversary gift. I thought we were doing no-cost gifts, hence why we are staying at Emily's for the weekend and eating her food."
Rory grins and points to the flowers, "you bought me those. And believe me, I know what an arrangement like that costs. I had plenty of experience with that working for the DAR. I'll be right back!"
He shakes his head with a soft laugh and grabs a cutting board knife. He's chopping up a head of broccoli when she walks back in the room, and he looks up to see her holding a large bag and biting her lip. He stops his motions and watches her.
"It's kinda hot when you chop food."
He looks down and then back up at her and laughs.
"You think anything I do involving my hands is hot," he teases, dropping the knife, "and I appreciate that. Makes it easier to turn you on."
She blushes, "let me give you your gift before you talk me into sex on the counter."
"Darn."
She walks up to him and hands him the bag, and watches with her hands behind her back as he pulls tissue paper out and opens it up. He reaches into the bag with a disbelieving look on his face.
"A new leather jacket?"
"I noticed that you gave Brandon yours," she shrugs with a small smile, "I found it while we were packing up his clothes."
He holds up the jacket, admiring its perfect texture and slightly fitted style, with a surprised smile.
"Yes, I gave it to him to have something safe to ride in. He only had a fake leather jacket that would have been torn to pieces if he falls off the bike," he mumbles, running his fingers over the buttery leather. Then, his gaze moves to her; he steps up with the jacket still in one hand and tangles the other in her hair as he kisses her cheeks and lips repeatedly.
"Okay, okay, you're like a puppy," she giggles, halfheartedly pushing him away, "I'm glad you like it."
He shifts back and smiles, "I love it, Rory. You definitely spent too much on me, but thank you. I've been missing my old one. Just didn't want to treat myself. This is really thoughtful."
"Happy anniversary, Jess."
His fingers softly scratch and pet her hair, and he kisses her on the head again.
"Happy anniversary, Rory."