thank you so much for the reviews/reading! I'm so glad you liked last chapter, the idea literally came to me in a dream LOL and wasn't sure if it would translate as well in the story. so again, thanks for letting me know you liked it!

hope you like this one too, it turned out to be very Jess-centered

enjoy xoxo

disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rory is in and out of their home, traveling for work, from the time Jess releases his book and well into the new year. The first year of their relationship, and even the year before that when they were technically just dating, he found ways to cope well enough without her presence. He is good at being alone, but it doesn't stop it from feeling like a piece of him is missing when she's not around. And the winter is hard without her. Partly because he wanted her around for the holidays but more so because of the aftermath of his book release. He didn't expect so many people in his life to read it, aside from Luke and Rory. It was a shock when most of Christmas with his family was spent rehashing stories from his novel with Liz. What she remembered, what she didn't, what she claimed he fabricated. His answer to all of it was the same: it's a work of fiction.

There were good responses too. Like Lorelai recognizing herself in a story he wrote about a mother as a best friend. She gave him praise for both depicting the beautiful relationship she has with her daughter, as well as capturing its faults too. It was a story that Rory also loved and was surprised to find upon her first (of several) readthroughs of the book.

He has struggled with the pity though and has wished to have Rory by his side to help soften the fury he has felt with every 'I'm sorry you grew up that way' or 'why didn't you get help from family or friends?' or 'you didn't deserve any of that'. It's not at all how he intended for his work to be perceived, and that's the agony of it because it can't be avoided - it's perspective is always subject to the reader. It seems that publishing it as fiction has not deterred anyone that has any claim to being remotely close to him in his life from commenting on it. Even some of the critic responses he has received have focused mainly on the implications of what his childhood was like, writing him up as some heroic type for overcoming such a past. It makes him want to vomit.

That's not to say that there are people that don't get it- obviously Rory and his friends. Many of his readers and customers of Truncheon. Some critics. But he never expected the person most absent from his life all his almost thirty six years to call him and voice his understanding too.

"Jimmy?" Jess answers the phone late one night, eyes tired from working on manuscripts in his office all day. He catches the time and sees it's already after midnight; the shop closed hours ago but he must have been so in the zone he missed his employees leaving.

"...Hi. Hi Jess."

His chest fills with unease, his throat tightens, and his heart starts to race.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to…talk."

Jess waits a breath and replies with, "Uh huh."

He hears shaky breathing on the line. When Jimmy doesn't say anything, he speaks again.

"I assume you still live in California. And that's why you're calling me after midnight eastern time."

"Shit. Sorry. Though you strike me as a night owl. Tell me you weren't awake already?"

"I don't see how I could strike you as anything, given that we haven't spoken in years and, oh yeah, you weren't around for the first eighteen years of my life."

His response is quick, and it bites, but it's not as searing as it once would have been.

"I deserve that," Jimmy mumbles in response, "sorry if I woke you up. Or any…other people in your home? Kids? Wife? Friend? Lover?"

Jess huffs and throws down the pen that was in his hand.

"Jimmy, what is going on? Why are you calling? And why are you pretending to care about my life?"

"Jeez, I'm not pretending Jess. Give me a break."

Jess begins to bellow out a reply but is stopped as Jimmy quickly speaks over him, "No, it's okay. Don't give me a break. You're right. I know this is weird. But…I read your book."

At first Jess is frozen with shock, but then he sighs and rests his exhausted head in his hand.

"Of course you did. Why didn't you people care about the other books I've released? Now that I've more clearly than ever put my childhood on display, everyone suddenly wants a fucking piece of it. You know what Jimmy? You didn't want it then, I don't know why you seem to think you're entitled to it now."

"Hey, hey," Jimmy exclaims in defense, "I'm not trying to get a piece of anything."

"Sure."

"I'm not."

"Right," a pause, "how did you hear about it anyway? I'm not in the fucking New York Times or anything."

Jimmy stays quiet. And Jess follows it up with a sort of reluctant mumble of, "I would know because my…girlfriend writes for that newspaper."

"Wow. That's…pretty cool. Makes sense I guess, being that you're a writer, you would be with a writer, you know? What's her name? I'd love to read some of her articles," he rambles, voice lilting back and forth between confident and unsure.

But Jess isn't that ready to let him in yet.

"How did you hear about my book?"

"Oh well…you know. I have one of those alerts set."

"You have…a google alert for me?"

"Yes. Well, okay. Lily has a google alert for you, and she told Sasha, who then told me about it."

Jess gulps in momentary guilt at that. He feels bad that he's lost touch with Sasha's daughter. They spoke a few times over the first couple of years after they met, but once she got to high school and he got busy with his life - contact slipped.

"How is Lily?" he asks softly, thinking about her reading in the closet that first time they met with a nostalgic smile on his face.

Jimmy chuckles.

"She's great. She lives in a house in Portland with some close friends. I think I told you last time we spoke she decided not to do college. She got into metalwork instead. Got trained and certified in less than two years, and she's already got a great job that she loves. And she's one of only two women there. It's pretty badass."

He smirks at that, "I'm not surprised at all. She's brilliant and has incredible focus. Different from everyone else in a good way…from what I remember."

"She is still those things. Don't worry. Don't…feel guilty about anything with Lily. I've got enough guilt to go around for all of us. I only told you since you asked."

Jess nods and leans back in his chair.

"So, you're calling me out of guilt? Again, just like everyone else in my life suddenly giving a shit."

A twinge of regret shoots through him, because he knows Rory and Luke don't deserve to be lumped into that. But as much as he wants to speak that out loud, to let his father know that there are people that have always cared about him; it would be letting him into another window of his life. He instead waits for a response. Jimmy sighs heavily as he seemingly collects his thoughts.

"Not out of guilt. Not in the way you're thinking, I don't think. I'm not calling to say I'm sorry that Liz screwed up so much. I don't really have a place to criticize anyone else's parenting. Let alone the woman I deserted with our newborn son."

Jess scoffs, "you got that right."

"I'm calling because I wanted to say I think it's…great that you see the human in your mom. That even though because she put you in bad situations, you recognize that she was a young parent with no support and probably suffering from mental health issues, definitely addiction issues. Seems like you've almost forgiven her. Or did I read that incorrectly?"

Jess gnaws at his lip, and swallows hard. He tilts his head back slightly to close his eyes but just before he does, his attention catches the photos on his wall of him and Rory. His heart is a paradox of ache and warmth. If he could just touch her, hold her hand, or watch her shuffle around him while on this weird phone call…

"Jess?"

He whispers his response, "you read it correctly."

"Thought so."

The two sit in silence once again. It occurs to Jess that they're both good at that; waiting patiently for someone else to say something, to be the one that's vulnerable. Like when he showed up at Luke's and they sat and just listened to Bowie. Both unwilling to get into the hard stuff. That similarity makes him shake off his stoicism.

"What does that have to do with you?" he finally asks.

"It…doesn't. Not really."

"Uh huh."

He hears Jimmy click his tongue, no doubt trying to figure out how to steer them to the point of this call without pissing Jess off.

"Me and Sasha's wedding anniversary is this month. Ten years."

A hidden memory reveals itself in Jess's mind. A random phone call, much like the one currently taking place, late at night. He was living in the apartment above Truncheon at the time, he remembers he was working on his second book. The phone ringing broke him from a spell of creativity, and he was so mad he was prepared to curse the person on the other line out and then hang up. But when he saw it was Jimmy, he again thought the worst and answered it.

That is something good with Liz, he thinks. They at least communicate enough that his stomach doesn't drop every time she calls.

But it was just Jimmy, very non-committedly inviting Jess to his and Sasha's wedding.

"If you want to come, come. You know, if you're in the area."

"If I'm in California, the other side of the country, in one month then I should go to your wedding?"

"Sure. It would make Sasha happy. Lily too I'm sure."

That's something else that bothers him about Jimmy, and doubly so because he knows that he used to be this way too. Too cool for school, not wanting to wear his heart on his leave and just fucking admit that maybe, perhaps, he wants to have a better relationship with the child he helped create and abandoned. While Jess knows he still isn't the best at this, he at least now sees the value in owning his feelings and sharing them when he can come up with the words to do so. And he wishes Jimmy would catch up and just tell him already what he's really trying to get at.

"I vaguely remember a phone call about said wedding about a decade ago."

"Yeah."

"I wasn't in the area, so I couldn't make it."

"Right," Jimmy takes a deep breath before finally revealing his ulterior motive, "we're going to New York to celebrate. In a few weeks. I know that probably sounds weird, being beach bums and all. But it's been a while since either of us have been over there. Kinda miss strangers being assholes to me and walking a hundred miles an hour just to keep up with foot traffic."

Everything in Jess's body feels cold suddenly. The hair on his arms lifts and a chill runs through him. He can't form a response as his mind tries to understand what exactly Jimmy expects him to do with this information.

"I know you live there. And opened a book store there."

"It's more than a book store. It's a branch of my publishing company," Jess mutters his reply behind clenched teeth.

"Sorry, I knew that. Lily mentioned it came up when she looked more into your new book."

Not wanting to make any of this easy for him, Jess simply says, "It's really not that new anymore. Been out since November, and we're approaching Spring at this point.."

Jimmy sighs on the other end of the line.

"Let me just…okay. I know I suck, I know I've never been reliable or present or any of that. And I know I probably don't have a right to feel this way, but your book gave me hope. That maybe…maybe if you can forgive Liz, there's a chance you will be able to forgive me too."

Jess practically chokes on his disbelief. He is speechless for just a moment, but then he feels anger like he hasn't felt in a long time.

"You don't have a right to that fucking feeling at all! Liz may have been a fuck up of a mother, but at least she was there in some way. She tried. And she still tries, as much as she frustrates me sometimes, she's still in my life. She is a much better mother to my little sister, and I think that earns her some right to be forgiven. You on the other hand, have never tried."

Jess is fuming, walking restlessly around his small office space. For just a moment he wishes he used the larger room that holds Richard's books for his office, so there would be more rug to burn with his blazing steps. But that thought sobers him, helping him see the unnecessary depth of his rage.

"You're right."

The response has him slowing his pace and taking a deep breath.

"It might be too late, but I am trying now. I'm trying to try, at least…"

Jess stops fully now, standing directly in front of his wall of pictures. He looks over them, at Rory's smiling face, at her blushing cheeks in some of them. He thinks of her kind heart, her grace with people that may not deserve it. He takes another deep breath, running his fingers over a picture of them from this past Thanksgiving that Doula took. The only holiday Rory was home for, and the day before his book was released. It was at Luke's this time and was close family only. The perspective is slightly askew, from his sister being sneaky with the camera on Jess's phone. An open bottle of champagne sits on the table between them, looking out of place in the rustic diner setting. Lorelai brought it and insisted they drink it to celebrate the holiday and his book release. Rory is taking the biggest bite of pie, her mouth open wide - ready for the pumpkin and mountain of whipped cream that sits on her fork. He sits next to her, resting on an elbow on the table with his chin in his hand. His other hand is on her leg, it's not in the picture, but he remembers. He looks on at her with absolute adoration in his eyes, and a slight smirk on his face. The picture brings him some peace, though he wishes he could go home right now and watch her eat her weight in anything.

"What do you want me to say?" Jess finally speaks, voice quiet but strong.

"You don't have to say anything. You can hang up on me if you want. But, I guess I'm hoping that since I'll be in town, me and Sasha, that maybe we can meet up. Or I can come visit you at your shop. I would even settle for just passing each other on the sidewalk."

Jess gulps down his automatic desire to decline. He says nothing, unsure if he wants to commit to anything.

"Again, you don't have to say or do anything. We will be there for a week, March 15th through 23rd. I guess I'll try you once I get there, and we can go from there."

Jess sighs and gives a mild, "Okay."

"And…maybe that girlfriend of yours will be available too."

He wants to laugh, because there's no way that he would face Jimmy without Rory by his side. Luckily she's supposed to come home soon.

"Maybe."

"Okay Jess. Well…have a good night. And maybe I'll see you soon."

"Okay," Jess almost hangs up, but a part of him he doesn't really recognize instead shares this information, "Her name is Rory, by the way. Rory Gilmore. Though she's probably the only Rory at the New York Times so you shouldn't need her last name. But there it is."

"Oh," Jimmy's voice betrays surprise, the most emotion its shown during this phone call, "Why does that name sound familiar?"

Jess thinks back to that short time he lived in California. He remembers her picture fell out of his book one time and Jimmy asked about it. But he's not going to reminisce over any memory with him right now.

"Huh. I don't know," he replies, "I gotta go."

"Alright. Bye, Jess."

He slams the phone down on his desk, leaning over it with his head dropped in exhaustion. His whole body, however, feels rattled by that call. He almost hates that Jimmy understands the purpose of his book and he also hates that he feels strong emotion about that. He wants to be more like Rory and let him in to his life, if that's what he's trying to do. But his long learned self-defense of putting up walls to keep people that hurt him out won't back down. It's currently louder than anything else in him, as it screams out a laundry list of reasons to ignore his 'father' and his olive branch.

His eyes drift to his computer, he thinks about sitting down to violently write out everything in his head. It helped him when he got in that fight with Liz that inspired the start of his last book. It helps him when he misses Rory desperately but doesn't want to share the weight of his feelings (because he knows her, and he knows she will feel bad). But as he looks on at it tonight, in this space where he just had that phone call, he can't fathom it bringing him solace at the moment. He needs to get out of the room, out of the building and away from the scene of the crime. He quickly packs up his things, locks all doors and is soon walking home.

It's late and dark, and he knows he should go straight home. In the back of his mind however, he knows there's a 24 hour convenience store open two blocks before the apartment. He won't acknowledge what he's definitely going to do, and he still pretends he's not buying a pack of cigarettes even as he pulls cash out to pay at the register. He puts them in his back pocket and pretends he's not going to do anything with them. Once home, he drops his stuff off in the apartment then wanders to a stairwell and goes up until he's at the top of the building. To his delight, the first nice emotion he's felt in hours, the door is unlocked. He steps out onto the expanse of concrete and brick and finds a cozy looking corner. He leans against it, surveys the city around him, looks to the river at his left and gazes over the bridge. He takes a steadying breath, because the world seems so much bigger than him from here.

And with that realization, he gives himself permission just this once to indulge in a vice he hasn't touched in over ten years.

He takes out the matches the cashier at the shop gave him. He takes out the distantly familiar white pack of cigarettes, and as he inhales, he embraces the burning in his throat like an old friend. He chain smokes as he watches the world around him, thoughts racing through his mind, lungs inflamed. It's not until the pack is empty that he realizes he's nauseous and crying, that his throat hurts so severely he probably won't be able to talk tomorrow. He's dizzy from the nicotine and has to place a steadying hand against the wall as he makes his way back down the stairs to the apartment. His stomach is a rumbling mess of anxiety, tobacco smoke and nothing else - because it's now three in the morning and he hasn't ingested anything but cigarettes for ten hours. He feels a tug that has him stumbling to the hallway bathroom in just enough time to throw up. He gets sick until he's dry heaving, there's a burning sensation from his esophagus to his stomach that blazes through him.

But he realizes he hasn't thought about Jimmy, or the ethics of forgiving him since leaving the roof top. He decides the idiotic choice he made was worth it for that alone. Then he has another thought that has him heaving again; maybe that's what his mother's drinking was all about. Getting out of her own head, by any means necessary. He doesn't want to empathize with her on that, though in this moment, he understands deeply.

It's a few days after that call before he genuinely smiles again. And it's, not surprising at all, because of Rory. He grins as his phone rings with her incoming video call. He's home even though it's only two in the afternoon; he's been leaving at lunch time and finishing his work day in the apartment since talking to Jimmy. He has had a hard time getting work done in his office at the shop, surrounded by that memory. And he trusts his employees enough to be alone and call him if his presence is needed. He leans his elbows on his desk in his home office, and swipes to answer her call. He quickly coughs to clear his throat, remnants of his indulgence have left his voice scratchy, and he doesn't want to worry her.

"Hi beautiful," he greets her as her lovely face pops up on his screen. She gives him a smitten smile in return.

"Hi handsome," she smiles wider, then frowns, "are you home? This early in the day?"

He swallows and nods.

"Yeah. Came home for lunch and decided to work from home the rest of the day."

"Oh, are you sick? Your voice sounds kinda funny."

He takes a breath, contemplating his response. He's not going to keep anything from her, he decides. It wouldn't be fair to either of them; the distance creates enough of an obstacle between them that he doesn't want to add to it.

"No, not sick. I…did something stupid," he starts, but has to pause again as he thinks of how to tell her everything. He hasn't explicitly described the difficulties he's faced since his book came out. He's mentioned only general grievances and frustrations. On the other end of the call, Rory worries at her lip and looks at him with concern. She props her phone up on a surface, what appears to be her laptop because he can see the top of her keyboard. He smiles slightly as he takes in more of her appearance. She's in her dressier working clothes, wearing a white button up blouse and black blazer. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun. On her neck is a piece of jewelry he got her this past Christmas - a book shaped necklace with a picture of them inside. When he gave it to her, he said it's for her to wear any place that she wishes he were with her. She had joked, 'that's everywhere'. But he knows she really hasn't taken it off since, so it wasn't a joke after all.

"You look nice. Did you just get back to your hotel?"

She goes to argue, to bring them back to her previous question, but lets it go for the moment and nods.

"Yes, it was a big day workwise. But the good news is I'll be home pretty soon! Just waiting for my boss to book my flight back."

He can't control the elated smile that stretches across his face. His lungs feel like they've taken the first breath in days. The weight that's been sitting heavy in his stomach lightens at the promise of seeing her again soon.

"Can I go down to the Times office and harass him into booking it faster? I don't know how much longer I can wait to kiss you again."

She blushes slightly, and tries to control her pleased grin, "Please don't do that. I'll be home soon. Promise."

He nods. His smile softens to something closer to a frown, a feeling of desolation behind it, "Good."

"You miss me, huh?" she asks, only a hint of playfulness as she takes in his concerning look. He doesn't respond, just looks back at her with the same small smile. Taking in as much of her as his senses will allow through the screen of a phone. She looks at him more seriously before asking, "Jess…what stupid thing did you do? Are you okay?"

Her question pulls him completely from the warm feelings of her impending return. He runs a hand through his hair and looks away for a moment.

"Can we talk about it when you get home? I would rather explain it all to you when I can feel your touch. Makes everything…. easier."

Her face drops, heart in her throat at his words. They communicate much better than they did as teenagers now as adults but it's still rare for him to be completely unguarded like this. Especially over a facetime call. It makes her worry, but after a moment of silence, she simply nods.

"Okay."

He smiles wide again, "Thank you. So, tell me about your day."

...

The promise of Rory being in his arms soon has him in good spirits. It's been a few days since they've talked, and he has waited as patiently as possible for her to tell him she's got her flight and is coming home. Although he's aware he will have to update her on all the difficult things he doesn't really want to talk about, he knows it will be worth it. And that in the end, she will help him feel better in one way or another. As long as he's known her, and even more so in recent years in their adult relationship, she makes him feel more cared about that anyone ever has in his life. He pushed it away as a teenager, but now it's his safe space - a place where he can crack or cry or fume about something with the security of her love surrounding him.

He can't wait for her to be home.

He has just opened the doors to the shop when his phone rings. He sighs and curses whoever is calling because he hasn't even had a sip of his coffee yet. He went to the gym late into the evening the night before, needing to work off some restless energy. But then he was wide awake from exercising and stayed up editing far too late. Time management is something he still struggles with as an adult, that he wishes he were better at. When Rory is home it's easy because he of course wants to give her all of his attention. But when she isn't there, there is no feeling that he's missing out on anything, or of any pressing obligations (like sleep) and he loses himself often -whether in work, a book, music or movies. Part of it now, he thinks, is because he does know what it's like to sleep in bed next to someone he loves. Sleeping without that really isn't that welcoming of a thought to him.

He sets his stuff down behind the register and pulls out his phone. A smile grows on his face as he sees his girlfriend's name. He swipes to accept her facetime call.

"Hey you."

"Hi," she smiles back at him, but it looks a little weak. His stomach drops immediately, his heart plummeting with it.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asks, a desperate edge to his voice.

"I'm okay," she quickly replies, "just need to talk to you about work."

This doesn't ease his concerns, as he immediately thinks the worst. Just then, his scheduled employee walks through the door of the shop and takes over at the register. He nods to her and quickly heads to his office, but at the last second turns and decides to take the call in Richard's library. He steps inside and closes the door behind him. He stands against it and takes a calming breath.

"What's going on, Rory?"

"It's a good thing. Just not sure how you will feel about it. It's not the best timing."

"Talk to me."

"Well, instead of heading home, they want me to help cover the Yellow Vest Protests in France through March, assuming they last the whole month. Though they've been going since November so…"

It's a brutal hit to his heart, and the feeling causes him to close his eyes. He quickly opens them and tries to cover his disappointment.

"I've been reading about them. They've mostly been peaceful. Makes me feel good about you going there," he tries to smile and runs a hand through his hair to cover up the fact that he can't quite summon one.

Rory half smiles, and says what he's thinking, "Yeah. But I do miss you."

He gives up his futile attempt to be joyous, face falling to a frown. He swallows and in a moment of irrepressible honesty, he whispers, "you have no idea how much I miss you."

The second the words are out of his mouth and Rory visibly slumps, he regrets it.

He tries again to be the supportive partner he usually is, "But your job is important, Rory. Do what you need to do."

She sighs and scrutinizes his features as best she can through the phone screen.

"Jess…you're great at hiding your emotions sometimes, but I can see in your face you're not okay. You look like..you want to cry."

At those words, he almost does shed a tear. He had banked so much on her being home soon, that this change of plans feels like an emotional devastation. He looks up towards the ceiling to hold back the liquid, not wanting her to see him like this when she's far out of reach.

"Oh, you do want to cry," she places a hand on her chest, empathy tugging at her heart, "Now I'm really worried. What's wrong?"

He sucks in a breath; of course, she knows him this well. And he's reminded that he really doesn't want to hide anything from her, because just hearing her voice even in this difficult moment helps him feel a little bit better. He looks around the library in thought, before facing her again on camera.

"Things have been…weird since my book came out. With people in my life."

"I remember you mentioning you were receiving pity that you didn't want. You never really said who or how."

He shrugs, "It's more than that…it's just. I hate to tell you these things when you're far away from me Rory, because I don't want you to feel any responsibility or burden. But things have been…hard."

Her face drops and she addresses him earnestly, "Please tell me, Jess. You don't have to hold anything back from me. I love you. I want to be there for you, always. Don't worry about me."

He scoffs, "that's like asking me not to breathe."

A ghost of a smile graces her features for such a short moment he almost misses it.

"Can you please tell me what's been going on?"

"The holidays were hard without you," he starts with the easiest fact to divulge first, "harder than I expected. But a lot of that was because my mother, along with many other people in Stars Hollow for some insane reason, decided to actually read my book."

Rory listens intently, eyes locked on him through the phone - conveying the support she can't physically show him.

"She questioned and questioned and hassled me about the stories in the book that she recognized - or at least recognized pieces of. She tried to tell me what I got wrong, what she doesn't remember, asked me which parts I fabricated - she even asked me if she really left me at a liquor store down the street from our apartment when I was a toddler. What kind of mother forgets something like that?"

She grimaces, looking like the thought makes her nauseous.

"I'm glad I wasn't there, I might have yelled at her for her ignorance."

That manages to make Jess chuckle, "I would love to see that. Maybe we'll go there for Easter next month."

Rory offers him a small smile, "So she questioned your memories and I'm assuming didn't get the point of the stories?"

He shakes his head, "definitely not. I think she sees it as some sort of twisted revenge. Which I feel bad about but…I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I told her over and over again it was all fiction. That's the only response that felt right. It's not my responsibility to make her feel better about the past. But that's not even as crazy as the phone call I got last week."

She stares at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to go on. He sighs.

"Jimmy called me."

She gasps in surprise, "are you serious? When was the last time you two spoke?"

"Almost three years ago. Before that Thanksgiving that brought you and me together again."

"Jesus Jess, I'm sorry. That's…weird. And hard," she sighs, "Nothing like an absent father to show up when it's convenient for them to shake up your life.."

Jess looks at her peculiarly, "that sounds like you heard from yours too."

She bites her lip and nods, "yes, it's very serendipitous. In an unfortunate way. He called me for some reason, probably saw something I wrote, to tell me he's in Europe. And what do you know, he will be in France in March with his daughter Gigi for spring break. I haven't mentioned yet that I got assigned there, I haven't decided if I want to see him or not."

"Jeez, because it makes so much more sense to connect with you in a completely different country than to ever try at home," he states sarcastically with a shake of his head, "sorry, Rory. I don't know why they are doing this to us now. Especially when we're apart like this."

She shrugs. "What did Jimmy say to you?"

"That's the most frustrating thing. He wanted to tell me that he thinks it's great that I've forgiven Liz and that I recognize the hardships she faced. And then he confesses that he's…hoping I can offer him the same."

The anguish on Jess's face pains her, she hates that she can't hug him and kiss him or sit in silence in the same room as him. She can tell that he's more affected by this than he let on. And something clicks in her mind.

"Is this somehow connected to you doing something stupid last week?"

He nods reluctantly.

"Yes. It is. After that call, I, uh…got a pack of cigarettes and chain smoked them on the roof of our building. I'm not making it a habit again or anything, don't worry. I just…"

"You needed something," she whispers with a knowing look, "I understand, Jess. I'm not judging you. But I wish you would have called me or talked to me sooner. You don't seem okay."

He shakes his head, because he's not okay. But it's still hard for him to say those words out loud to her. They sit in silence, both deep in thought. His eyes wander around the space, and he decides to flip the camera so she can see where he is.

"I miss that room," she sighs forlornly, "is it bringing you any comfort? It always does for me."

"Not as much as hearing your voice does."

He watches her face soften at his words, and then it changes into a smile.

"Hey, let me see your face again. I have an idea."

He flips the camera back and gives her a look to continue.

"Come to France. I have plenty of flier miles you can use. Spend a week with me. I'll be working during the days, but we'll have the nights and I'll have at least two full days off."

He smiles softly, "That sounds lovely. But I have the shop and work and everything here. I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Jess, you need a break. You're not doing well. Just because you love what you do for work, doesn't mean you don't deserve time off."

His head moves in a circle as he thinks over her words.

"Ask Matt or Chris to come up and manage the store while you're gone. You've done plenty of favors for them over the years. I'm sure they would be happy to do something for you. Let them stay at our place, bring their wife and kids. I'm serious, Jess. Even if you don't want to come visit me, you need time off for your mental health."

"Of course I want to come to France and be with you," he replies almost sternly. He again thinks over her offer, and replies, "okay. Thank you. If you don't mind using your miles on me, I would love to. Can you give me some time to get things together over here? I can come out in a couple weeks?"

Her smile stretches wide across her face, and she nods repeatedly.

"Of course! Want to come on a Friday and stay until the following Sunday? I'll book you a flight here March 15th?"

Finally, Jess's smile is one of both excitement and relief, the tension in his body dissipates and he responds with a grateful, "Yes. That's perfect."

"Is this really the best place for a croissant in Paris, or do you just love it because it's next to an indie book store?"

She grins at Jess with a mouth full of chocolate from the middle of her croissant.

"Location is important."

"To flavor?"

"Yes," she argues, taking the last bite of her pastry, "I mean, I'm not a pâtissier, but I'm sure location is a factor."

"Uh huh," Jess mumbles with an amused smirk. He takes the first bite of his own pastry and a sip of coffee. He raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

"That is pretty good."

"Told ya!"

He swallows and his smirk deepens, "you've got a lot of smugness for someone with chocolate all over her face."

Her jaw drops momentarily and then she starts licking her lips. It causes Jess to go from amused to captivated very quickly.

"Did I get it?" she asks, turning her face side to side. He shakes his head.

"Let me help you."

He pulls her close to him outside of the cafe, he looks down at her face and smiles. Then leans in and covers her mouth with his. She hums as his tongue licks around her lips before dipping into her mouth and meeting hers. It's not the first kiss they've shared since he arrived in Paris, and it's not even his first day there with her, but it's the first day they've had freedom to explore and really spend time together. He has felt incredibly light since the moment they greeted each other with desperate hugs and passionate kisses at the airport. She had insisted on meeting him there instead of at the hotel, even though it cost her time and money to travel. He halfheartedly attempted to talk her out of it, but his heart soared throughout the faux argument. The moment made him think briefly of Jimmy, and how he wanted to tell him before about how much he is cared about. That there is someone in his life that will make her own more difficult just to spend an extra moment with him.

"All good now," his voice is rough and potent as he pulls away from their kiss. Her cheeks are red, and he brushes a cold hand over them to feel the warmth. It's a sunny day, but in the shadowy spots it feels much colder than the advertised fifty five degrees.

"I really want to show you the bookstore. But I also kind of want to go back to the hotel."

He smirks, "The hotel is close by. We could always go there and then come back?"

She bites down her grin, and eventually nods in agreement. He takes her hand, and they start the ten minute walk back to their hotel. As they pass the Monument a la Republique, a block from their hotel, Rory hears someone calling her name. She stops and looks around in confusion; Jess nudges her on the arm and turns her in the other direction. Her face drops as she sees her father walking quickly towards her, with Gigi leisurely in tow.

"Crap," she mutters to herself.

"That who I think it is?" Jess asks quietly, stepping closer to her.

"Rory! Did you get my message about being in Paris or is this just a happy coincidence?" Christopher greets her with a quick hug.

"Hi Dad, just a coincidence," she answers with a tight smile.

"Of all the gin joints in all the world," Jess mutters with a smile similar to Rory's. Chris turns to him.

"That's right," he chuckles in his happy go lucky way, "and you are?"

"This is my boyfriend, Jess. Jess, this is my dad. Christopher." She formally introduces them, with an air of obligation. Chris holds out his hand and Jess waits just a beat before reluctantly reaching out to shake it.

"Boyfriend, huh? Nice to meet you. I didn't know you existed, haven't heard anything about you."

"You would've if you had shown up to Rory's thirty third birthday party almost two years ago," Jess answers snidely, with a fake smile on his face. Rory squeezes his hand, both in gratitude and to convey that everything is fine.

"Hi Gigi, I haven't seen you in so long. You're so grown up!" Rory gushes at the girl who has just caught up to the group. She smiles and opens her arms for a hug.

"How old are you now?" Rory asks as they break apart. She takes in her sister's outfit, a white turtleneck that she assumes is cashmere, accompanied with a plaid mini-skirt and thigh high white boots. In her hands she carries a purse that Rory only recognizes thanks to a gift from Logan years ago; a white Birkin.

"I'm turning seventeen this year. It took me a few tries, but I finally got my driver's license recently and I'm hoping to get a car for my birthday," the young girl shoots a pointed smile at Christopher who playfully rolls his eyes in return.

"We'll see."

"Wow, seventeen?" Rory grins and shakes her head, "it doesn't feel that long ago that I was at the hospital awaiting your arrival."

"You were there when I was born?" Gigi asks with a curious look.

"Yes, not in the same room thank god, though it seemed like I might be for a while there. Your mom had planned to have a c-section, but you decided to come early. I guess I was the only person available to sit with her until your…our dad could get there."

To Rory's surprise, her sister frowns and rolls her eyes.

"Do not mention that woman in front of me."

Christopher turns to her with a look, "Georgia."

"No! The whole reason we are here is to visit with her, but she hasn't made herself available for more than five minutes since we got here," she exclaims in response, arms crossed tightly over her chest, "I'm not going to pretend she's been this great mother to me, dad."

Rory winces and looks at her dad, who looks away with an exasperated sigh and a dark look of regret. She feels Jess's hand at her lower back in his silent support. It suddenly hits Rory that even though Christopher wasn't the father he should have been for her, he is that person for her sister. And Gigi deserves to have that, and enjoy it, without the weight of Rory and Christopher's relationship on her shoulders. She swallows and turns to Gigi with a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry for mentioning that. But anyway, I just can't believe you're going to be seventeen! And wow do you have much better style than I did at your age."

That gets a smile out of her, "Thanks. Dad likes to take me shopping. I usually get whatever I want, as long as I promise to eat pretzels and ice cream in the food court with him when we're done."

Her heart aches, thinking about how nice that must be for them. But at least she had it with her own mom, and she wouldn't trade that for the world.

"Sounds like a love of junk food runs in the family."

Rory turns to Jess, surprised at his addition to this conversation. He squeezes her hip discreetly, and she smiles softly at him.

"Oh yeah, Lorelai isn't the only one that lives off sugar. I think if you cut us in half, you would find a caramel center," Chris jokes, nudging Gigi's arm.

"Mine would probably be marshmallow," Rory adds in, finally feeling somewhat relaxed in the situation. Gigi smiles at her, looking more relaxed too.

"Why are you guys here?" she asks, looking between Rory and Jess.

"I'm here for work, actually. I'm covering the protests for the New York Times," she doesn't look to see it, but she can feel Jess's proud smile beaming down at her, "and Jess is here for a break from work. We haven't seen each other in a while."

"Oh, sometimes the New York Times has good celebrity fashion edits. I like looking at them on Instagram."

Rory grins, "That's great! I'm glad that someone your age even knows what the Times is."

"Yeah, I know it's a big deal. Did Dad help you get the job?"

Jess can't hold in his laugh of disbelief. Rory elbows him slightly and catches her dad's apologetic look.

"No, he didn't. I studied at Yale, and kinda…worked my way up to getting hired there. Took a long time, but it was worth it."

"Oh cool! I was just wondering because he knows so many people. He met someone from admissions for Parsons fashion school! Hopefully they will help me get in after high school."

Rory looks inquisitively at her dad who coughs and admits, "I joined a ridiculously expensive country club."

She laughs, "I guess that will do it. That's exciting though, Gigi. But I can tell just by looking at you that you will be amazing at fashion. I hope you do end up in New York, that's where Jess and I live. It would be nice to visit more."

"We still have time for that, she's not leaving me an empty nester just yet," Chris jokes, patting his daughter on the back. But Rory catches the glimpse of sadness on his face, surely afraid of being alone one day. "So, I'm actually about to take Gigi shopping now. Any chance you two would like to join? There will be coffee involved too, trust me. Shopping with this girl is a marathon."

"Ummm," Rory turns to Jess for help, but he just shrugs slightly, leaving it up to her.

"Please come! I'm looking for a dress for my Junior prom and could really use an opinion other than dad's," Gigi begs, then turns to Chris, "no offense."

"None taken. You would be in better hands with Rory. Gilmore girls have great taste."

Rory assumes it's meant to be a complimentary comment, but something about hearing those words from him irks her. She's about to snap at him but catches her sister's awaiting look. Her body softens and she looks to Jess again, for reassurance that it's okay to spend any of their time this way. He gives her that with another loving squeeze at her hip.

"Okay. We can join for a little bit."

Chris smiles too wide for her comfort, like he's done something right by her for the first time in a long time. Even though this isn't that, she refuses again to say anything in front of his other daughter.

"Great, I get to spoil both of my girls in one day. How lucky am I?" Chris enthuses, leading the group in the direction of whatever shop Gigi asked to go to.

"He has no idea how lucky," Jess whispers in Rory's ear, calming the bit of tension in her shoulders, "tell me at any point if you want to leave. I'll get us out."

Rory nods and grasps his hand tightly as they walk behind the father and daughter duo. Chris has his arm around Gigi's shoulders as she pretends to be annoyed with his affection.

"I'm glad she has that with him," Rory says softly so only Jess can hear.

"But it sucks that you didn't get it," Jess speaks the words she didn't say, "I know that feeling."

He moves his arm around her waist and pulls her closer to him as they continue to walk.

"You know what we have to look forward to though?"

"What?"

"Being great parents one day. Because we know exactly what not to do."

The bright smile that Rory gives him settles the wariness he was holding in his chest. He kisses the side of her head and puts aside his concerns about spending time with her father for now.