Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine except for Emmy Gilmore. Please don't sue me. Also includes references from famous movies/tv shows/books. Title comes from Dashboard Confessional's "As Lovers Go."

"Tables?"

"Check."

"Chairs?"

"Check."

"Balloons?"

"Check."

"Stars and planets?"

"Check."

"Plates and napkins?"

Hands rummage through the numerous bags on the table.

"Check."

"Cake?"

"Sookie will bring it on Friday."

"Finger food?"

"Luke's going shopping tomorrow."

"Glow in the dark paint?"

"Check."

"Glow sticks and bracelets?"

"Check."

"Costumes?"

"Finishing the witches tonight -"

"They're celestial beings."

"Hard to claim that title when you're missing the halo."

"Hey!"

"- And Miss Patty's bringing the shawls and hats."

They both take a long breath and look at each other.

"Is that it, kid?"

Rory looks down at the list in her hand and rereads it a final time before finally smiling in relief. "I think so."

Lorelai reaches an arm out and pulls her daughter in a hug. "She's gonna love it."

"I hope so," Rory says as she lays her head on her mother's shoulder. "Cause I don't think I've ever planned a party this big. Are we sure we have enough room?"

"Forgotten those Russian tea parties already? That's great. Now your grandmother is somewhere bemoaning the fact that I've brainwashed all the DAR out of you."

"She's got no case. I'm sure Jack has been brainwashing her since she hasn't been back once in six years."

"First off, you're a devil child for putting that image in my head. Second, she'd never let that kind of technicality stop her from blaming me for yet another thing."

They sigh in unison and slump towards each other.

"Thanks, Mom."

"No problem, kiddo. If anyone has experience putting on extravagant last-minute parties on a tight budget, it's me."

Rory embraces her mom another minute before disentangling and turning her attention bag to the numerous shopping bags on the kitchen table.

She hears Lorelai speak behind her. "So what inspired the theme? Did you finally get around to watching the movie?"

"Nope, still in the queue until Saturday. Actually, Jess gave her his old copy a few weeks ago, and since then she's been obsessed."

"Old copy? I'm assuming by that you mean book?"

Rory nods. "Yup. He brought it with him when he stopped by a couple weekends ago. Somehow Doula had never read it, so Jess wanted to fill in that gap in her education, but she shot him down."

"Smart girl."

Rory turns on her mom, insulted. "Hey!"

"That's not a dig at you, I promise. But you know, not every teenager spends their formative years absorbing as much classic lit as they can. Some people are too cool for that."

"So now you're saying I wasn't cool?"

"What? When did I said that? Besides that's impossible. I'm the queen of cool, and you're my daughter. Obviously I passed that trait down to you along with the stunning blue eyes and charming wit."

"Right," Rory drawls.

"Case in point. You skipped school, you went to parties, and you had multiple boys fighting over you. Not to mention the looks and knowledge of pop culture."

"Huh. Sounds like all that was missing was the teenage pregnancy."

Lorelai gasps. "Okay missy. You can put the claws away."

Rory snickers in response, turning back to organize the stars and balloons. Lorelai follows suit and they work in silence for a few seconds.

"What were we talking about?" Lorelai asks.

"Theme?"

"Oh right. So Jess gave her his book?"

Rory nods. "Yup, after Emmy demanded it, and she wouldn't let him leave until he read it with her."

"Well, she is a Gilmore girl."

"That she is."

"Okay then."

Rory senses something in Lorelai's tone. "What?" she asks suspiciously.

Lorelai glances back at her. "What what? I didn't say anything."

"You have that look."

"What look? I don't have a look."

"The look that says I was expecting something way more interesting than Jess gave her a book."

Lorelai sighs. "Well…"

"What?"

Lorelai peers at her daughter before responding. "I just thought for sure it was because of the absent father."

Rory sighs in exasperation. "Mom."

Lorelai shrugs in feigned ignorance. "I'm just saying, young girl that goes on a quest to find her missing dad is like putting up a smoke signal."

"He's gonna be there," Rory stresses. "And how do you know the plot so well? Have you been watching the movie without me?"

"Hey, I read in my youth too. Just not as much as two weirdos who still to this day keep having the same Rand vs Hemingway argument. God, get some new material already."

"Close your eardrums then, cause we'll be having this argument until we die since we're both too stubborn to give in."

Rory sees Lorelai bite her tongue even though she clearly wants to say something, and she's grateful. She and Jess are complicated enough without having Lorelai's input on the matter.

It's not that things are bad between them. She and Jess are great actually. Probably better than they've ever been. When he stopped by the Gazette about six years ago and gave her the idea for Gilmore Girls, she had no idea that it would be the beginning of her and Jess "the friendship years." Before then, they tended to avoid each other, coming home for opposite holidays. On the few occasions they did see each other, they kept everything short and sweet and impersonal, nothing that would disturb the murky waters of their history together.

When he found out about Emmy, and Logan's involvement in making her, she was sure their tentative friendship would break, and they would go back to the casual acquaintances they were before. But, he surprised her. He was always surprising her.

When she needed help with her book, he was there.

When there was a problem with the placenta detaching, he was there.

When she struggled with irregular cravings and morning sickness, he was there.

When she needed help assembling Emmy's first crib, he was there.

He was steady, like a rock, and at first, she thought she would struggle with that image of him, given his penchant for running away as a teen, until she realized that he's been a rock since he was twenty-one, always showing up and helping her out when she needed it the most.

She knows there's talk around town about how long it will be before they get back together, but honestly, Rory's glad that he seems just as content to stay in this friendship bubble they've created for themselves. It's easy. Uncomplicated. Exactly what her life needs right now. Especially with Emmy in the picture.

But sometimes, when he jokes with Emmy or she smiles at him with pure happiness, there's a twinge in her heart at what could have been. But she bats the thought away though before it can do more damage. When she and Jess are more than friends, they tend to hurt each other, and his subsequent absence hurts for weeks, is numb for years later. She needs him in her life, so friends they will stay. She's determined.

Lorelai must have noticed her contemplative expression because she stills in her movements. "You sure he's gonna be there?" she asks quietly, guessing Rory's train of thoughts.

Right topic, just wrong ex-boyfriend. Rory gives a pained smile before she blinks herself back to the main issue of the conversation. "He promised."

"Okay. But just remember the numerous times your dad promised to show up and then failed to fulfil his fatherly duties—"

Rory cuts her off, not wanting to think about Christopher. "Logan isn't Dad."

Lorelai gives her a steady look.

"He's not." Rory reiterates sternly.

Lorelai stares at her for another minute before conceding. "Okay."

They work quietly for a few minutes, securing the rest of the shopping bags in a tight knot and hiding them in various nooks around the kitchen.

Right when the silence starts to get stifling – they never did well with silence; It reminds them too much of their worst fights together – they hear the door open, and Emmy and Luke walk in.

"Mommy! MiMi!"

Rory panics for a moment when she hears her daughter's voice until she remembers the presents are securely hidden in her bedroom. She relaxes and turns around to engulf her daughter in a big hug. "Hi babe! You have fun at the diner today?"

"Yup! Grandpa let me eat cake and ice cream today."

Lorelai snickers and Rory tilts her head at her step-father. "Aw, Luke. You old softy."

"She kept bothering me to try the coffee." He gruffs out, staring at both elder Gilmores with a frown.

"Well of course she did, Luke. She is a Gilmore, after all."

"Yeah Luke!" Lorelai cries. She picks up Emmy in a huge bear hug. "How's my beautiful granddaughter?"

Emmy giggles. "Prettier, MiMi."

Lorelai nods serious. "Because of the cake and ice cream, right?"

"Yup."

"I keep telling your grandpa it's good for our complexion, but he won't listen to me."

"Because you're both crazy," Luke grumbles out.

"And yet, he married me."

"And I regret it every day."

"He says that now, but wait until I get him alone tonight."

"Mom!" Rory screeches.

"What?"

"Little child in your arms."

"Oh please, you were exposed to worse language when you were three thanks to Miss Patty and husband number four."

"That doesn't mean I want my daughter to be exposed to your…. escapades in the bedroom."

"What's esapades?" Emmy asked.

"Escapades" Lorelai corrects. "It's fun activities."

"I want to have fun!"

Rory glares at her mother. "See what you did?"

Lorelai cackles but obliges. "Okay Emmy, why don't you go into the bedroom and get ready for a bath, and afterwards we can terrorize your grandpa with the sounds of Metallica."

"Okay MiMi!" Emmy wiggles out of Lorelai's arms and scampers off to her room.

Luke just facepalms. "It's like living with Jess all over again. I'm going outside." And with that, Luke goes out the backdoor in the kitchen, leaving two Gilmores in the kitchen.

Rory just shakes her head in exasperation. Her mom looks back at her confused.

"What?" Lorelai asks.

"Why can't you go by grandma like a regular person?"

"Because I'm not regular. I'm exceptional."

Classic Lorelai response. "Okay, fair point. But why MiMi? Why not Nana or Lola or any other iteration?"

"Because originally, I wanted MeMaw. But MeMaw sounded too matronly and Southern, and though I can slay a ballgown like a southern belle, we know that's not me, even though I love Scarlett O'Hara. And then I thought, well what if we just say MiMi? After all, she's like the third iteration of me, so –"

"We named her after Grandma —"

"And myself. And since she's named after me, it makes sense that her name for me is MiMi."

"Like she's two of you."

"Exactly. You're one of me. And now with Emmy, I've got two."

"You're crazy."

"It's the coffee. It makes my brain superior."

Rory snorts. "Keep thinking that. Meanwhile, while you're thinking MiMi is a suitable synonym for grandma, I'm gonna be thinking you're the stripper that almost dies in Rent."

"What stripper?"

"You know? The stripper? The one that has AIDS?"

"Don't they all have AIDS?"

"That's not the point."

"Which means they all die at the end, right? Cause the cure hadn't been invented yet."

"It's Rosario Dawson's character."

"Oh! The kitty cat!"

"That's how you remember her?"

"With the leather and the animal print?"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Take me OOOUUUT tonight!"

"I give up."

"Ah, the seasons of love."

She tucks her daughter into bed around 8pm, fluffing up the blankets and the pillows as she likes. Emmy burrows into the cocoon, and Rory's heart melts at the sight. She'd do anything for this little bean.

She runs her fingers down her daughter's smooth cheek as she flings herself back onto the pillow.

"So," Rory starts, "someone has a special day coming up, huh?"

"My birthday!" Emmy squeals.

"No! Your birthday?"

"I'm turning five."

"Already?" Rory fakes being confused. "But I thought you were turning four."

"That was last year."

"Last year, huh? I must have forgotten."

"We should get you checked for Allhimers. You're getting old, Mommy."

Rory gasps. "Rude! How must we punish this insolence?"

"With kisses!"

"Well in that case…" Rory proceeds to kiss all over Emmy's face as Emmy erupts in laughter.

"So kiddo, are we excited for your birthday?"

"Uh-huh."

"If you could have anything you want on your special day, what would it be?"

"Anything?" Emmy asks.

Rory nods. "Anything."

Emmy thinks for a moment before answering in a small voice. "I want Daddy to be there."

Rory feels a hollow ache at her words, as if she's the one that's five years old and waiting for Christopher to show up. But Rory shakes the feeling away because Logan isn't Christopher and responds with a smile. "Well, it's a good thing he says he's coming."

"Really?" Her daughter looks excited.

"Really."

"He promised?"

"He promised." Rory pushes the anxiety she feels away.

"Then this is going to be the best birthday ever!"

She laughs at Emmy's exuberance and runs a hand down the blankets. "All right, little one. Time to go to sleep."

"Can you read to me?"

"What book will it be today?"

"Wrinkle in Time!"

"Still not tired of it?" Rory asks as she grabs it off the small bookshelf.

Emmy shakes her head fervently. "Uncle Jess gave it to me."

"I know he did."

"He's coming too, right?"

"Yes, he's coming too."

Emmy lets out a sleepy sigh. "Best birthday ever." She snuggles deeper into the covers.

"Well let's get you to sleep, and tomorrow, you'll be one day closer."

Rory opens the book and picks up at where the bookmark says they left off at. She doesn't need to read for long before her soothing voice puts Emmy right to sleep. Rory pats her daughter's hair affectionately before placing the book on her night stand and turning off the light.

It's Wednesday, and Jess is sitting at his desk at Truncheon, pretending to read the latest manuscript that's trying to combine lucid fiction with psychological horror, and normally, he might be a bit more engrossed in the narrative, but his dumbass friends have decided to engage in yet another literary debate, this time revolving around who's the worst misogynist: Thomas Hardy or Henry Miller. They don't usually involve him anymore because he always wins, so usually he tunes them out, but this argument sounds promising.

They've been going at it for fifteen minutes.

"I'm telling you it's Hardy, man," Chris argues. "The man can't write a positive outlook on women to save his life. I mean, the guy even tries to have a female as his protagonist, and then ends up having her raped, get married and then abandoned by her husband because she was raped, and then is essentially forced to marry her rapist, and ends up being executed for his murder. Killed for the one time she actually tries to wield her agency. At least Miller was secure enough in his masculinity to let a woman finance his most famous book."

"A book in which he completely degrades women for having sex," Matthew shots back. "He literally has a character whose sole purpose in the novel is to hate women."

"Well, I doubt he was complaining much about sex when he was fucking Anais Nin."

"Maybe not complaining, but he certainly didn't count it as a virtue, what with calling sex an addiction."

"Perhaps he was projecting. He did get married three times and cheated on all the wives."

Jess laughs loudly, distracting his coworkers from their debate. Chris taps his finger against his chin thoughtfully while Matt gives him the stink eye.

"What do you think, Jess?" Chris asks.

Matthew facepalms. "Dude, you know we don't ask for his opinion anymore."

Jess puts down the manuscript and gives a wry grin at that before responding. "Well honestly, I think that both were just brainwashed under the rules of the Victorian Era, in which women must be seen as this pious angelic creature in order to be good. Miller, despite the insults, at least gets some points on showing that promiscuity in women wasn't as unthinkable as some would believe."

Chris gives a haughty grin in victory while Matthew sulks.

Jess continues, "However personally, I'd say John Updike was even worse because he lived and wrote during the women's liberation movement, but that's just me."

He chuckles at the twin scowls that appear on their faces before trying to reread the same paragraph he's been stuck at for the last thirty minutes.

Chris clicks his tongue in disdain while Matthew speaks. "See? That's what we get when we ask the opinion of a Hemingway lover."

"The worst misogynist of them all."

Jess shakes his head and tunes them back out.

He's almost to the end of the chapter when the phone rings, and the previous laidback energy disappears into a somber silence. The three men stare at the phone on Matthew's desk in unison before eventually Matthew forces himself to move and answer.

They've been waiting for this phone call, and for them, it's literally life or death.

He watches as Matthew gives a formal greeting, answers a few questions plainly, asks a couple of his own, and then slowly puts the phone back in its cradle, completely quiet and blank-faced. The conversation took maybe three minutes. It makes him nervous. Matthew's always been easy to read, his exuberance noticeable on his face. But not now, and Jess can't help but think that this is bad.

Very bad.

Truncheon's gonna have to close bad.

He's still staring at Matthew when his friend lowers himself into his chair like a sloth.

A quick glance at Chris shows that he's not handling Matthew's reaction any better. He's jittery while standing in one place. "Did we—" Chris starts, but Matthew interrupts him with a hand.

Jess waits for the hammer to be brought down. When Truncheon almost went under seven years ago, he'd promised himself that they would do things differently this time, and they had. More organization. More communication. Less procrastination. And it was working. Until their best-selling author left them to write for a subsidiary of MacMillian, and now they were screwed unless they found another writer with as much star power as Donovan Hugh.

Matthew's running a hand down his face now, something he normally does when there's a huge problem, and suddenly Jess feels like he's 18 again, flunking out of high school and getting kicked out by Luke.

Chris is chewing on his bottom lip in impatience, trying to keep silent. He fails a few seconds later. "Dude, would you just tell us—"

"Holy shit," Matthew finally mutters.

Jess and Chris both freeze.

"Holy shit," Matthew repeats, a bit louder this time. A spark enters his eyes, and Jess can feel the knot of anxiety slowly unloosen in his chest.

A smile makes its way onto Matthew's face, and soon his whole face is lit up. "Holy shit!" he exclaims.

Jess watches the stress disappear from Chris' shoulders.

"Does this mean we got him?" Chris asks excitedly. "Please tell me we got him."

Matthew finally glances up at them. "We got him," he affirms with a wide grin.

Jess feels his face start to mirror Matthew's (but only for a second), and Chris lets out a whoop in excitement. "We got Damien Keller!"

Matthew laughs in glee and pulls Chris into a bear hug. "We got Damien Keller!"

"Damien Fucking Keller!"

The two stay in their embrace while jumping up and down. Jess just smiles and shakes his head, hiding his relief that he gets to keep working at this press that he loves with his best friends. Even if they are almost 40-year-old dumbasses.

Matthew and Chris still in place and turn their heads to him at the same time.

Jess feels his smile melt off his face and instinctively takes a step back. "No," he warns.

Matthew brushes him off. "This calls for one."

Chris nods. "Damien Fucking Keller."

"Now get your ass over here before we force you."

Jess releases a heavy sigh before reluctantly opening his arms. His friends grin and pull him into the hug. After a minute they break apart, and Matthew clears his throat. "There's just one condition."

Jess lets out another sigh. Of course.

When Matthew stays quiet, Jess looks up, and finds Matthew's gaze on him. Jess narrows his eyes at him. "What?"

Matthew seems to deliberate on speaking, and Jess can feel the nervousness from before coming back. "What?" he barks a little louder, letting irritation mask the slight panic.

Matthew flinches and sighs before speaking. "He'll only sign the contract with you as his editor."

Jess waits a minute, to hear if there was more, before he rolls his eyes. Fucking drama queen. "Why do you say that like it's a problem?"

"It's not. Cause you're gonna be at the meeting."

"Me?" Jess asks, eyebrows raised sardonically. "No way. Why would I be at the meeting? I personally think Keller's too much of a sell-out for Truncheon. We should just wait for the next Pushcart winner to sign with us."

He almost laughs at Matthew's red face and narrowly dodges his friend's palm that would have slapped against the back of his head.

"Smartass," Matthew grumbles.

"Stop being so stupid. When's the meeting?"

"Now we know Damien's a very busy guy, and he's flying in between his interviews with Good Morning America and freaking Oprah, and we are so very lucky that he's chosen our press to work with, so anything else is of lesser importance and –"

"Jeez, Matt. Just tell me when the meeting is."

"Saturday at 2pm. You're taking him to a late lunch at Vernick. And don't worry about the price. We'll find the money somewhere…"

Jess drones out Matthew's voice because his mind can only fixate on one thing.

Saturday.

Emmy's birthday is on Saturday.

He's got a meeting with Damien Keller on Emmy's birthday.

Fuck.

Eventually he notices it's gone quiet, and he looks up. Matthew is standing in front of him, nervous, but with a challenging look in his eyes.

Jess' eyes narrow in anger. "You knew I had Saturday off," he says in a low tone.

"He specifically requested you—"

"To edit," Jess bites back. He can feel the irritation broiling under his skin, and he does his best to stave it off from explosion. "I can edit the manuscript. That doesn't mean I have to be there to watch him sign the damn contract."

"He wanted you there."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Something about your piece in A Public Space. I didn't question him. I just said yes sir."

"And you couldn't have tried to pick another day?"

"His agent said he can only be in town on Saturday."

Jess glares at him with disbelief.

"It's Damien Keller, Jess. Damien Keller."

Fuck Damien Keller. He doesn't say it, but Matthew can read it on his face all the same.

"Hey, you want to take the chance, you're free to call him back and tell him you can't do the meeting. But then Truncheon's life literally falls on your shoulders, and you have to find the next Pushcart author yourself."

Jess lets out a growl in frustration because unfortunately, Matthew's right, and if he wants to keep living this pretty nice life he's become accustomed to, he's gonna have to go to the meeting and miss the party. "Fuck!"

"What's the big deal? It's just a birthday party. There's literally another one next year."

"It's not just a birthday party!" Not that he could really explain why to his friend. He can't even explain to himself why this news upsets him.

"Yeah, it is!" Matthew shoots back, becoming irritated by Jess' attitude. "Besides, she's not even yours!"

Jess grows cold and clenches his fist, but before he can throw a punch to blow off some steam, Chris is between the two of them. "Okay, that's enough. Get out of here, Matt."

Matthew shoots him a dirty glare before he strides out of the room.

Chris turns to him with an apology written in his eyes. "We need him, Jess."

He unclenches his fingers slowly. "I know."

"I'm sure if you explain, she'll understand. And I know you'll make it up to her."

Jess takes a breath to steady himself. "Yeah…"

"I'll talk to Matt and make sure you get next week off."

Jess nods and Chris grips his shoulder in reassurance before walking away.

Jess slinks down in his chair and stares at his desk. He knows he's being irrational. Maybe it's because he knows how it feels to be a kid and be disappointed. Maybe it's because Emmy's Rory's, and somehow he'll always feel like he has to make up for his teenaged mistakes. Either way, he can't shake the feeling that missing the party is a mistake.

But, he knows Matthew's right. He knows they need this, and it's a bitter pill to swallow.

He pushes his frustration aside and grabs the phone, dialing Rory's number.

She picks up almost immediately. "Freddy! Lucy's actin' crazy."

He chuckles at the sound of her Ricky Ricardo. "Crazy for Lorelai or just crazy for ordinary people?"

He can hear her smile through the phone. "Crazy for Mom. She's convinced Taylor to let her glitter bomb the town square for the winter carnival this year. Says it makes a nice frosting."

"Yeah, what date is that again? I need to make sure I won't be in town for that one."

"Oh? Is your masculinity so insecure as to not handle a little glitter?"

"My masculinity's fine thank you. Or did you forget the time Emmy painted my nails?"

"Aww they were such a pretty color too," she coos.

He fakes hacking. "Well, I prefer them au naturel."

"I'm sure," she snorts.

They enjoy a moment of companionable silence before she pipes up again. "So, what's up?"

"You sitting down?"

"No. Should I be?"

"It… might be best."

"Okay. Sitting. Go."

He takes a deep inhale. "We got Damien Keller."

There's a pause. He wonders if Rory even heard him. The he hears her say, "What?"

"We got Damien Keller," he repeats.

"You what?!" she yelled.

"Please don't make me say it again."

"You got Damien Keller." This is starting to sound familiar. You looked it up? You wrote a book?

"Yup."

"Oh my God, Jess!" She gushes.

"Yeah." He's glad she's proud. It still makes his heart skip a beat. He just wishes it was under different circumstances.

"That is so amazing! I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks."

"Wait, why do you not sound happy? Should we not be happy?"

"No, I'm happy. We're happy. It's just-"

"What?"

"He wants me to sign him."

"Really? Oh my God, now Dave Eggers is definitely shaking in his boots."

"Still don't think he's heard of us."

"Well he will after this. Damien Keller."

"You can join Matt and Chris as his fan club."

"Um… almost the entire literary world is his fan club."

He tips his head. "True."

"So what's wrong?"

The moment of truth. "The meeting's Saturday."

She falls silent again, and his skin prickles, and then, "Nooo!" she wails.

"I know," he mumbles.

"Jess."

"I know."

"You can't move it around?"

"It's the only time he could meet. And Matt will literally kill me if I miss this one."

"Well honestly, under any other circumstance, so would I. It's Damien Keller."

She huffs and curses under her breath. "Shoot!"

"How mad are you?"

"I'm not mad."

"Really," he deadpans.

"I'm not," she gently stresses. "I'm disappointed, for Emmy's sake. She was really looking forward to you being there. She was all set with you playing Charles Wallace."

"The smart brother that barely speaks?"

"I know, it's perfect for you."

And now he wants to punch himself in the face.

"Rory, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Is she there?" He swallows to moisten his dry mouth. "Can I talk to her?"

"Yeah, one sec. She's with Mom."

He hears a door open and her shout in the distance. "Emmy! Uncle Jess is on the phone!"

He guesses she went outside. Perks of living next door to your mother. Not that he has an idea or want of what that feels like.

He waits for another minute, and the he hears a breathy exhale on the phone.

"Uncle Jess!"

"Hey you!" He smiles.

"I miss you! I can't wait to see you! Mommy says you're coming on Saturday!"

She sounds so excited.

And he has to disappoint her.

He's a horrible human being.

Fuck Damien Keller.

Fuck Matt.

Just… fuck.

"Yeah… Emmy listen… something came up at work, so I'm not gonna be able to make it."

"You're not coming?" It's a broken halting voice, and he hates himself.

He's the worst human being on the planet.

He pushes the words out of his mouth. "Not on Saturday. But I promise I'll be there Sunday, and we'll spend the whole day together, okay?"

There's no response. Fuck.

"Okay Emmy?" he asks again, a bit desperate.

"Okay." She sounds so small.

He's the scum of the earth.

He doesn't say these words often, but he says them now as they're itching to get out. "I love you."

"Love you too."

He's a pitiful existence for a man.

"Let me talk to your mom."

"Okay."

Rory comes on again, more subdued. "Hey."

"How bad is it?"

"I'll talk to her. Will you be able to come at all this weekend?"

"I'll be there Sunday."

"Okay. We'll see you Sunday."

"Rory, I-"

"I know. It's not your fault. Life just happens. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah."

She hangs up, and he wants nothing more than to bash his skull against the wall.

It's Saturday, the day of the party, and Rory's mad because she should have known better. Really, she should have.

After all, the world gave her a sign. Jess wasn't coming. That alone should have had warning bells ringing in her head because since Emmy has been born, Jess hasn't missed any important events.

But no, Rory's determined to give Emmy the best party, and so she convinces herself that everything will be all right. Emmy is going to love it.

At first, everything is fine. They hold the party in the backyard. Combined with Lorelai's backyard next door, they have a ton of space. There are sections designated for certain activities. They have the celestial centaur corner, where Babette, Patty, and Gypsy are dressed in gaudy costumes and big hats as Mrs. Who, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Whatsit. There's another corner with glow in the dark paint for the Happy Medium scene. Lorelai sits at a table behind a crystal ball. In another corner Taylor's dressed in red as the evil eye of Camazotz. And in the last corner, Lane is dressed as Aunt Beast to heal Emmy from her horrible fight with Taylor.

Everything is set up and perfect, just waiting on one thing. The missing father.

And really, that's an apt description, because it's been a couple hours and Logan still hasn't shown up.

Emmy wanted to wait for her father, but eventually, they have to start or they would have done all of this for nothing. So she convinces Emmy to go to the celestial corner, and maybe by the time they make it to Taylor, Logan will be there.

Emmy obliges, and Rory feels herself becoming irritated with bitterness the more she watches Emmy turn her head whenever a new guest arrives. And irritation become protective anger when her daughter's face falls in disappointment.

He had promised. She had promised. And apparently it was all for naught.

She could see Emmy's mood plummeting the longer the party goes on, and so she grabs her phone and quickly dials Logan's number.

No response.

She wipes her forehead in frustration and her hand comes away wet.

Why is her hand wet?

She looks up, and the sky is dark and pelting huge sheets of rain into her face. In seconds, everyone is soaked. She hears a scream and looks as the party essentially breaks up.

"Okay, everyone, let's take the party inside!" Lorelai yells as people run for cover. Luke's grabbing the paint, Jackson and Lane the food, Babette and Patty the presents, Sookie the cake, and Kirk –

Kirk is slipping on a patch of wet grass into Luke, who stumbles and gets paint all over Babette, who drops the presents which Patty then trips over and knocks into Jackson, who slips with the food and falls into Sookie and –

Rory stares in horror as she watches Emmy's cake, the beautiful galaxy cake Sookie spent hours on, fall and smash against the ground.

And then she hears her daughter call for her. "Mommy?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Can I have the magic glasses now?"

Rory blinks in confusion. "The magic glasses?" she asks. And then she remembers. Mrs. Who's glasses. Which she forgot to put on the list. Oh no.

Emmy must see the answer on her face because she starts to cry.

Rory's heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces. "Emmy," she says softly, reaching for her, but Emmy runs to their house and slams the door. And all Rory can do is stand with slumped shoulders as the rain comes down.

Yup. She should have known.

After all, fives are bad.

Didn't Natalie Portman teach her that?

Eventually they get everyone inside Gilmore House #2, and Lorelai is busy handing out towels to everyone.

Rory, Lorelai, Luke, and Lane all try their hand at getting Emmy to come out of her room, and they all fail.

Rory thinks she'd rather relive Mitchum telling her she doesn't have it for the rest of her life than to have her daughter locked in her room, crying on her birthday.

An hour later, guests start leaving, giving their presents to Rory, who stacks them on top of the coffee table.

"Cheer up, honey. She's still young," Babette says as she leaves.

Patty gives her a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, she'll have another one next year. She probably won't even remember this one."

Great. That's exactly what she wants to hear.

Kirk steadily apologizes, and Rory tries to reassure him that it wasn't his fault until he bloats and runs to the restroom.

Taylor tuts and looks on in disgust. "Well this is the last time I ever come to a kid's birthday party. Especially with such incompetence. And you used to be such a bright young woman too."

Rory lunges to rip out his throat, but Luke gets to him first. "Taylor! Get out!"

An hour after that, the only people left are herself, Lorelai, Luke, and Lane.

She slumps down onto the couch, her head in her hands, as Lane runs circle across her back.

"Rory, it's gonna be okay."

Then they hear a car door slam.

A tendril of hope fills her, and Rory grabs it, lifting her head up. She looks out the window, and where she's expecting to see a silver Porsche, there's a black 1970s charger.

Jess's car.

Rory opens and closes her mouth like a fish, and Lane nudges her. "I thought you said he wasn't coming."

"He wasn't," she says in disbelief. She stands up as he knocks on the door and opens it, and all she can do is look at him.

He halts when he sees her. "Hey," he greets, giving her a half grin.

"What are you doing here?"

For some reason, she feels full of gratitude. Like she's saved. Like maybe this birthday wouldn't be such a disaster after all.

He shrugs and turns his head to the floor. "Just couldn't miss it." He places his present on the end table next to the door.

Her eyes start to water, her lip trembles, and since she can't have a breakdown right now in the midst of the party's destruction, she does the next best thing. She hugs him tight, hoping his arms will be enough to hold her steady.

They are.

She breathes in the moment, and then freezes because –

"Oh my God. Damien Keller."

She feels him stiffen in the embrace. She pulls back and gazes at him. "Jess, you didn't."

"I didn't," he reiterates. "I went to the meeting."

"And?"

"And I might have left the lunch a little early."

"Jess," she groans, letting her head fall back into his chest. "It's Damien Keller."

She can feel his chest move when he chuckles.

"Who's Damien Keller? Oh hey Jess." Her mom walks up to them with two cups of coffee.

Rory pulls away and grabs one. "Only the hottest literary author that Jess was supposed to sign to his company, but instead he's here."

"Oooo, he's hot?"

"Well, actually, yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of best-selling. He wrote Back Into Dust."

"Ohhh, that really weird book you tried to force me to read a couple months ago."

"It's not weird."

"It is weird. The last time I read something that weird, it was when I read Jess' book."

Jess tilts his head in surprise. "You've read one of my books?"

"Yeah, the first one, the submarine or whatever."

"The Subsect."

"Yeah, that one."

"And you thought it was weird?"

"All that timey-windey stuff, I couldn't make sense of it. If you had just told it straight, I probably would have liked it."

Jess smiles broadly. "I'm honored."

Lorelai nudges her daughter. "You're quiet all of a sudden."

Rory is quiet. Because she just had an epiphany, thanks to her mom. She feels excitement breaking on her face, because holy crap – she looks at Jess, who's already shaking his head at her. He always could read her thoughts.

"No way," he states.

Rory feels her face about to split in half. "No wonder he wanted to sign with you."

"You're cracked."

"You guys are kindred spirits."

He scoffs. "I'm not like him at all."

"Maybe not personality-wise."

"He's a much better writer than I am."

"That's debatable. Personally, I think your piece in A Public Space warrants the same kind of attention as Back Into Dust."

"Rory, he's a Pushcart winner."

"You could be too," she insists. "You just need a better publicist. Someone who'll promote your work better."

"Put the pom-poms down."

She sighs. "Fine. But you know I'm right. You both write about broken families in similar non-linear ways. I'm surprised I didn't realize it before."

He shakes his head again and looks around the living room. "Where's the birthday girl?"

Oh.

Oh man.

She's a horrible mom. Here she is talking about books while her daughter's locked up in her room crying.

Jess must read her crestfallen expression, because instantly his brows are furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just a failure who can't even throw her daughter a birthday party without ruining everything."

"The rain's not your fault."

"I could have read the weather reports."

"Too boring."

"Not to mention I forgot the magic glasses."

"An easy thing to forget in all of this."

She scowls at him in exasperation.

"Seriously Rory, this looks great." He gestures to the stars and planets hanging from the ceiling.

"Really? You think deflated balloons and ruined paint are great?"

He looks at her, does that studying thing he does where he can read right into her soul, and obviously he finds what he's looking for cause the next words out of his mouth are, "He didn't show up, did he?"

She lets the silence speak her disappointment.

He runs his hands through his hair, seemingly frustrated. "Rory, why didn't you call me?"

"Cause you were supposed to be in a meeting with a hot-shot author, and I'm supposed to be her mom. I should be able to handle it."

"We all need help sometimes –" Lorelai wordlessly gives her assent. "—Where is she?"

"In her room. We can't get her out. Not to eat or open presents or anything. Everyone's already left because Rory Gilmore can't execute a simple birthday party."

"Not everyone." He rubs his thumb against her elbow, and she shivers at the touch.

"Maybe she'll come out with her favorite uncle here." He grabs his wrapped present from the side table, and she leads him to Emmy's door, Lorelai following behind.

Rory knocks lightly. "Emmy," she calls softly. "Uncle Jess is here."

She hears a rustle of blankets and then a pouty, "No he's not."

"Yes, he is. He's standing right next to me. Jess, say something."

"Something."

She pokes him in his side. Hard. "Ow," he mutters, rubbing the spot.

She, Jess and Lorelai wait quietly with their ears near the door.

They could hear Emmy say, "Uncle Jess said he wasn't coming."

"I know I did," Jess says seriously. "But what kind of uncle would I be if I missed my favorite girl's birthday?"

"A bad one."

Lorelai covers her mouth to stifle her laugh. Rory shoots her a glare.

Jess has to bite his lip to keep composure. "Well, you're not wrong. Hence why I'm here. You want to unlock the door, let me in?"

They hear the sound of her sliding off her bed. They see the shadow of her little feet under the door. They wait for the door knob to turn, but there's just silence.

"Emmy?" Jess prompts, his knuckles rapping lightly.

"No!" Emmy shouts. "I don't believe you! You're trying to trick me!"

Jess hides his face behind his hand while Lorelai snorts.

"It's not funny," Rory hisses.

"Emmy-boo, why would we trick you?" Jess asks.

"You want me to come out."

"Sound reasoning skills that one," Lorelai mutters.

"Well, if we're trying to trick you," Jess says, "who am I supposed to be?"

"An imposter! A shapeshifter!"

He turns away from the door and stares at Lorelai and Rory who have guilty looks on their faces. He clicks his tongue. "You guys have been showing her way too much Supernatural."

Rory and Lorelai point at each other. "It's her fault," they say.

He rolls his eyes and turns back to the door. "Okay, but would a shapeshifter have my license? Would he have your present?"

"…No," Emmy says hesitantly.

Rory's ears perk up. Now they're getting somewhere.

Jess continues. "Well if you open the door, you can see both of them."

The three adults lean towards the door with baited breath. 1…2…

"….No."

All three wilt.

"Emmy, come on," Jess pleads. "It's me, I promise."

"If you're really Uncle Jess, then slide your license under the door."

They're dumbstruck.

"Wow," Lorelai finally states as Jess digs into his back pocket for his wallet. "If there's ever a robbery attempt, at least we know we're raising her right."

"Mom! Can you be serious please? We're trying to get her out. Not make it worse."

"Oh, is that what we've been doing?"

Jess rubs his fingers against his license thoughtfully. "You know," he starts. "I could just use this and pop the door open myself."

Rory turns to him sharply, both tickled and annoyed at the suggestion. "No Jess," she slowly says as his eyes dance with mischief. "That's a breach of trust." She gives him a hard stare.

He sighs and looks away. "Spoil sport." He slides his license under the door.

Rory glances at him as he stands back up. "I thought you got rid of your artful ways," she whispers leaning towards him.

One side of his lip curls. "You can never take the Dodger out truly, Rory."

Their eyes meet, and Rory has to fight hard to keep a grin from spreading across her face. The moment's interrupted when they hear the knob turn and the door swings open. Finally.

Emmy stands in the doorway with an angry pout. "You said you weren't gonna be here," she says to Jess.

He kneels down to her level. "I know. I was wrong."

"You lied, Uncle Jess."

"Well if you think about it," he drags out, "me being here negates the original lie, which is me not being here. Cause I promised your mom I was gonna be here."

"What kind of logic is that?" Lorelai asks.

"Shhhh!"

Emmy stands there thinking on Jess' words for a minute before her face slowly lights up. "Which means you're not a liar?"

Jess gives a smug nod as Lorelai rolls her eyes. "Exactly." He grins as Emmy runs into his arms.

"I knew you weren't bad, Uncle Jess!"

"Oh boy. Good thing she didn't know you at 17." Rory elbows her mother in the stomach, but the damage was done.

"What happened when you were 17?" Emmy asks Jess curiously.

He deflects like a master. "Let's talk about that later. Right now, I believe it's presents time."

"Presents!" They walk towards the living room, and Rory stares after them unable to keep the tender smile off her face.

Lorelai notices. "It's a good thing Jess was here to bail you out, huh?"

Rory shoots Lorelai a glare and walks away from her knowing grin.

Even though the party was disassembled and the cake was ruined, Emmy's got a huge smile on her face the rest of the night as she sits on her uncles's lap and opens the presents. Rory breathes an inward sigh of relief and Lane softly pushes against her shoulder.

"See? Told you it would be okay."

"Yeah."

After the presents, Luke brings over freshly baked cupcakes and together the adults in the small group watch with cups of coffee as Emmy eats all the frosting and reads from her new collection of Nancy Drew books (courtesy of Jess of course).

Rory's cellphone rings, and she grabs it. Her face drops. It's Logan. A really selfish part of her wants to ignore him, but there's always a chance that Emmy would want to talk to him, so she swallows her frustration and answers the phone.

"Logan." Everyone stops and turns to her.

"Hey Ace. How's everything?"

"I don't know, Logan. How would things be if your five-year-old had a birthday in which her dad didn't show up, even though he promised he would?"

Logan sighs. "Ace-"

"So what stopped you this time? Odette? Your dad? Finn and Colin?"

"I had to work."

"Well that's nice. So glad you thought of us enough to pick up the phone and call-" she checks the time and does the math, "- at 2am your time. Wow Logan. You completely missed your daughter's birthday."

Another heavy sigh. "Is she there?"

"Yes."

"Can I speak to her?"

Rory doesn't say anything, debating whether to just end the call.

"Please Rory?"

Hearing the plea in his voice, she softens.

"Emmy, your dad wants to speak to you." When Emmy nods, Rory puts the phone on facetime and gives her the cellphone.

Logan's face is visible in the screen. "Hi Daddy," Emmy says meekly.

"Hey Em. How's my birthday girl?"

"Fine."

"Yeah? Did you have a good birthday?"

"Uncle Jess made it better."

"Uncle Jess, huh?" Lorelai snickers at the obvious jealousy in Logan's voice. "Good man."

"Where are you?"

"I'm in London."

"Why weren't you here?"

"I had to work."

"Uncle Jess had to work but he's still here."

"…Yeah…"

"You promised you'd be here."

"I know, pumpkin. I'm sorry. Why don't I make it up to you? I'll be in town in a couple weeks and I'll take you to wherever you want to go. The opera, the zoo, you name it."

"I don't want to."

"Emmy-"

"No! I've got Mommy and Uncle Jess and MiMi and Grandpa and Aunty Lane and Uncle Kirk and everyone in Stars Hollow. I don't need you. Stay in London!" She hangs up the call to the delight of everyone but Rory in the room and throws the phone away from her. Rory scrambles to catch it before it hits the ground.

"Emmy!" Rory scolds.

"Boom drops the mic!" Emmy yells with her hands raised over her head proudly.

Jess and Lane are hiding their laughs behind a cup of coffee while Lorelai openly cackles.

"That's my girl!" Lorelai exclaims.

"She's my girl, and you're a horrible influence."

"Come on, Rory," Lane says in between chuckles. "You have to admit that was awesome. Even Luke is smiling."

Rory turns sharply to Luke and sees that he's hiding a smirk behind his hand. She throws her hands up. "Fine," she states, but she turns to her daughter. "But no more throwing phones," she says sternly.

Emmy deflates. "Yes, Mommy."

Rory points to the bathroom. "All right, babe. Let's get you ready for bed. Say goodnight."

She watches as Emmy gives a kiss to everyone before running into the bathroom. The last four guests stand up and stretch out their limbs. She gives her Mom and Luke a hug as they head out. Lane promises to call her in the morning. She calls for Jess before he leaves, and he lingers in the doorway.

"Thank you," she says earnestly. "Really. I think this would have been a total disaster if you hadn't shown up."

"I don't think it was that bad."

"It was," Rory insists. "You can stay here for the night if you like. I know it's a long drive back to Philly."

"I would, but I can't. I've got a very important author to meet with tomorrow."

"To sign the contract?"

Jess gives a lazy smirk. "He already signed. More to go over the contract in fine print."

"Wait, he signed?"

Jess nods.

Rory feels a knot of tension loosen in her back. "That makes me feel so much better."

"See? Didn't ruin anything."

"Except a birthday party."

"Not even that."

Rory ducks her head away from the warmth of his face.

"Will we see you again soon?" she asks.

"I should have some time coming in the next couple weeks. I'll carve some space out. Doula's been bothering me for a visit too."

"Good, I'll see you soon then."

He nods . "See you soon."

She closes the door with weightless shoulders and goes to check on Emmy.

After the bath, Rory's tucking Emmy into her bed. She kisses the top of her head gently when she's completely under the covers.

"I'm so sorry babe. This isn't the birthday I wanted for you."

"I had fun."

"You did?"

Emmy bobs her head. "Can we get some more glow in the dark paint though? I didn't get a chance to paint with it."

"Of course. Whatever you want."

Emmy grows quiet after that, a sad pensive look on her face, and Rory's heart constricts.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"It's still my birthday, right?"

"Until the clock strikes twelve, and the carriage turns back into a pumpkin."

"I can wish for anything?"

Her face softens. "Yeah babe. Anything." She moves a strand of hair behind Emmy's ear. "What do you want?"

Emmy fiddles with her hands, a nervous tick she picked up from Rory, before she states in a really small voice. "I wish Uncle Jess was my daddy."

Rory's heart stops.

She doesn't know how long she's like that, frozen in this moment, but eventually she feels Emmy snuggle closer and lay her head on Rory's leg. Emmy looks up at her, her blue eyes clear. "Are you going to read?"

She shakes herself and grabs the Nancy Drew book from before, continuing where Emmy left off until she could feel her daughter's breaths even against her skin.

Sleep evades her that night, like a ghost her fingers can't grasp. Emmy's words revolve around in her mind, and it's a painful jolt at each revolution.

She knows rationally it's impossible. If Jess was her father, then she wouldn't have been born. She needs Logan's DNA to be her beautiful unique self. But her wish still stabs all the same.

Because if Rory's honest with herself, in another life, a life in which she was braver and gave Jess the second chance he asked for, she knows he would have been. Emmy wouldn't have been the same. She would have had different hair, maybe even different eyes, a different smile and a different set of quirks. She probably would have had a different name.

But she would have been his.

It's a future she'll never have because she chose otherwise.

And after tonight, that knowledge hurts worse than anything.

When he gets back to Truncheon, Matthew is immediately on his ass.

"You selfish asshole!"

"Hey!" Chris tries to grab him, but Matthew shoves him off.

"You self-serving annoying prick!" he screams in Jess' face. He yells some more with threats of termination all of which Jess calmly nods at. That probably was the wrong move cause Matthew's face turns an eerie shade of red, and he throws a wild punch that Jess smoothly catches in his hand.

"You're gonna bring Truncheon down just because you can't control your fucking dick!"

Ironic, considering him and Rory have never even had sex, not that he could ever convince his friends of that. Matthew throws another punch that misses badly, and Jess is starting to think that he might be drunk.

"Matt! Enough!" Chris wraps his arms around Matthew in an effort to calm him down. Matthew struggles, but Chris has a strong hold on him and eventually he gives up. Chris carefully lets him go when it's clear Matthew's not going to fight any more.

"I hope it was fucking worth it," Matthew spits. "But when she fucking breaks your heart again, don't come crying to us." He stalks off, pounding up the stairs and slamming the door to the upstairs apartment.

Chris looks on forlornly and gives Jess a look that says he's also pissed.

"What were you thinking, Jess? We needed this."

Jess wordlessly reaches into his satchel and pulls out the signed contract from earlier that day.

Chris stares at it, stares at upstairs and back again before he lets out a huff. "You know, I think Matt's right. You are a prick."

Jess smirks.

Chris rolls his eyes. "You really had me worried."

"After 15 years, and there's still no trust. Maybe I should look for new employment."

"As annoying as you are, it would be more annoying to break someone new in."

Jess shakes his head and looks up the stairs to where Matthew was. "You got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Chris starts heading upstairs. Once he's half-way up the staircase, he turns back to Jess. "Was it worth it?" he asks.

Jess thinks of Rory's grateful smile, of the way Emmy lit up in his arms, and the answer easily falls from his lips. "Yeah, yeah it was."

He meets Keller bright and early the next morning with the best coffee Philadelphia has to offer and his sincerest apologies. Keller waves him off, surprisingly more down to earth than his agent let on, which Keller lets slip is because "if everyone knew I was such a softie, they'd take advantage of me in no time."

A front. He knows very well what that's like. Granted he uses sharp words and sarcasm as his deflective shield, not an agent that sounds like the male counterpart to Miranda Priestly.

The meeting is brief, quickly going over the details they weren't able to over lunch. Jess emphasizes the importance of the author's creative control and reassures Keller that they want to publish his novel as closely to his vision as possible.

They talk money, resources, the chances of possible editions, and by the end of the meeting, both have a clear understanding of what this partnership will entail.

Jess feels good, Matthew's threats long forgotten. In fact, Jess feels he should be knighted for this. Or at least have Matthew's ever-eternal thanks.

Before they part, Keller looks over at him, contemplative. "You know," he starts, right as Jess is feeling uncomfortable. "I'm not a dad. Don't have any plans to be either. But I hope that if I get the opportunity, I'll be able to put my kids first too. Do what our parents never did for us."

Keller gives him a shy smile, and Jess thinks maybe Rory was right. Maybe they are kindred spirits.

He shakes Keller's hand and promises to get started on the edits right away.

When he makes it back to the apartment, Chris waves hello from the sofa and Matthew is stirring oatmeal on the stove. His back is to Jess, but he can tell from his movements that Matthew knows he's there. He waits a moment to see if Matthew will say anything.

Matthew taps his finger along the counter before sighing. "Sorry I tried to hit you."

"Sorry I provoked you."

And that's it.

He puts his documents away in his room and flops onto his bed, suddenly in need of sleep. He thinks of Damien's words, of being better than his parents, and there's an ache in his chest at this dream unfulfilled. When he was younger, he never imagined a family for himself, considered himself to messed up to truly care for anyone. Rory may have taught him he has the capacity to love, but the subsequent ruminations of their teenaged relationship only served to strengthen his belief that a family was out of the question. Further adult relationships that have long since crashed and burned only served as added proof.

He likes his life. Loves his job. Loves his friends. He considers himself lucky to have even made it this far. But sometimes…

He spreads his hand out over the empty space beside him.

He's 38 and still lives like a bachelor, and though he likes his life, it's in these quiet moments when he can admit to himself that he wants more.

And maybe that's why he spends so much time with Rory and Emmy. He doesn't have to be there. He has no obligation to her or them, no matter how much the guilt of his 18-year-old self tries to tell him otherwise. He can leave, find a nice girl, settle down, buy a house and a dog and live his life. But he knows he can't, because eventually he'll do what he always does: he'll come back to Rory.

Sometimes he really wants to go back and punch his 18-year-old self in the face. Because now that he's older, he understands Luke better. He gets why he never made a move. Because though he wants more, these small moments he shares with the two of them are enough.

They're enough.

They're worth it.

They're worth the wait.

There's no guarantee that he and Rory will have the same happy ending as Luke did with Lorelai. After all, Lorelai never truly rejected Luke the way Rory has with him. Their one break-up when Rory was in college was because Luke decided to pull a page out of Jess' book when he found out about April.

And even though Lorelai ran to Christopher, it took just mere months for that flimsy lie to disintegrate, and soon enough Luke and Lorelai were back together.

But, Jess reminds himself, Luke did have to watch Lorelai marry another guy, and he hasn't had to do that with Rory yet, so maybe…

Maybe…

He turns over onto his side and lets the memory of Emmy's laughter lull him to sleep.

It's three months after Emmy's birthday, and Gilmore House #2 is as crazy as ever. With Gilmore Girls being re-released through Penguin Books, Rory finds herself much busier these days. The re-release led to her book making it on the NYT Best Sellers list, and that's come with more press, meaning more functions, more interviews, more readings, more money.

Don't get her wrong. She's happy about the money. But right now, she could use a break in her schedule and instead, she's busy chasing after a half-naked Emmy covered in chocolate sauce and whipped marshmallows who she's trying to force into the bath – "But I'm a walking s'more, Mommy!" – and her hair and make-up isn't done, her shirt's still wrinkled, and she hasn't eaten anything in seven hours.

"Please Emmy," Rory pleads as Emmy slips through her fingers and runs back towards the kitchen, heading for the graham cracker crumbs. "Your dad's gonna be here any minute. You don't want him to see you like that, do you?"

"Maybe he'll think I'm tasty!"

Rory literally groans. "I'm gonna think you're tasty if you're not in that bath in three seconds!" she growls.

Emmy freezes with wide eyes.

"One," Rory warns.

Emmy gulps.

"Two," Rory whispers menacingly.

Emmy takes off like a rocket and locks herself in the bathroom.

Rory slumps over onto her knees, breathing heavily. Finally.

Normally, she would have Lorelai here to keep Emmy occupied, but she's off with Luke to Nantucket to visit her grandmother. Even Lane, her usual back up, is spending the night in New York with Zach and the twins to see Motherhead Bug in concert. And what is she supposed to be doing? Getting ready for her book reading in Brooklyn, and yet she's struggling trying to get herself ready with a five-year-old cookie monster.

She glances at her watch and emits a loud "EEP!" because Janice, her book agent, was going to kill her if she wasn't out the door in an hour, and she was already 30 minutes behind.

Her cell phone rings, and she groans again until she sees it's Logan calling, and she almost melts with relief.

"Logan! Please tell me you're seconds away."

There's silence on the other end and her face falls. "Logan?" she tries again.

"Hey Ace," he says in cheery yet guilty tone.

She knows that tone.

"You're not coming," she states.

"I'm sorry, Ace." He's all apologies and suave voice explaining that his father booked him for this meeting with another publisher, and that he's got to be there or it's another case of bullshit that she just can't hear anymore.

"Fine." She says calmly. She wants to be angry, but she can't waste the energy. And frankly she's tired of having the same argument over and over. "Choose your dad over daughter yet again. I'm done caring at this point."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep relying on you and making plans around when you say you're going to take her and then be left holding the bag every time. Like Emmy said, we don't need you. I've got Mom and Luke and Jess and Lane and quite honestly, I prefer it that way because these are people that I can trust to actually be there when they say they will."

"Ace come on. I'm stuck here. I've got responsibilities-"

"So does everyone else, or do you think you're the only person with a job? With a life to support?"

"Of course not, but I've got a company to run-"

"Oh, of course. Nothing compares to the great Huntzberger conglomerate. How could I forget?"

"Ace-"

"You know Jess is in publishing too, right? Did you know that the day of Emmy's birthday, he was busy signing Damien Keller to a contract?"

He whistles softly. "Big fish."

"Yeah, but even he still managed to get the contract signed and the rest of the meeting moved around to come to a little birthday party of a five-year-old who really wanted him there. You know why? Because that's what a f-" she cuts herself off, surprised at the words in her mouth.

"Because that's what a what?" Logan's voice is hard, from her implication she's sure.

"Because that's what a person does when you care about someone. You make time for them. You're here when you say you're gonna be here."

"I care about Emmy, Rory."

"Then show it," she spits back. "And if you keep disappointing her like this, then you can consider your visitation rights revoked."

He seems surprised. "You can't do that. I'm her father."

"Apparently only in biology. And don't even worry about getting the courts involved, because I'm pretty sure they'll side with me, no matter who you bribe."

"Rory-"

"Tell Mitchum I said screw you." She ends the call with a satisfying click, but soon she can feel the anxiety seeping through her body. If she had more time, she would grab her tapping shoes and do a quick dance to burn off some the energy. But right now, she's got to find another babysitter ASAP or she's screwed.

Mom's out. Luke's out. Lane's out. Grandma's out. Paris is at a conference in Beijing. She scrolls through the list of her contacts, and she's tempted to just call Janice and ask if she can bring Emmy along. And then she sees Jess' name under Janice's, and she pauses.

She's seen him a couple times since Emmy's birthday, and each time she hear's Emmy's wish repeating in her head, so inevitably she freaks, makes things awkward and leaves before she's able to spill something embarrassing out of her mouth. He seems to take it in stride though, his eyes only showing curiosity and a bit of amusement. Not concern or anger or anything else that would make Rory spazz up with worry.

It would take him at least four hours to get here. Logically, that would mean he's out, but maybe, she thinks, she could still call him and get him to watch Emmy overnight. She was planning on driving back, but she could book a hotel, so that way his trip wouldn't be wasted over a couple of hours of babysitting. And then she could just beg Caesar to watch Emmy until Jess makes it into town.

Assuming he can, of course.

Her finger lingers over his name and before she can talk herself out of it, she calls him. She is desperate after all.

It rings for a minute before he picks up. "Yeah?" he says harshly into the phone.

"Oh. Sorry. Is this a bad time?"

"Rory?"

"Yeah." And there goes her last resort. "Never mind, it's not important. I'll just-"

A voice in the background asking for Jess stops her, cause – "Is that Kirk?" she asks bewildered.

"Yes," Jess growls into the phone. "And he's seriously testing my patience."

Her heart's beating a mile a minute. "You're in Stars Hollow?"

"Yeah, covering the diner for Luke with him and Lane out of town – Jesus Christ Kirk. Take your fucking sandwich and get out of my face!"

She hears Kirk's response through the phone. "But it's not made properly. It's supposed to go lettuce, tomato, cheese, and then the bacon, with a little bit of mayonnaise on the bread. And it's supposed to be cut-"

"I don't give a shit! You'll get the sandwich I give you!"

"But Luke always makes it like this for me."

"Do I look like Luke to you?"

"Well, kind of, in stature, and face structure, and maybe eye shape-"

"Get out!" Jess barks.

Rory starts giggling over the phone. How is it that she already feels better two seconds after talking to Jess?

"I'm glad you find this funny," Jess grumbles.

"I can finally get rid of those Lenny Bruce records."

"Keep 'em. They're a classic. What's up?"

"How long's your shift at the diner?"

"I've got a few hours. Caesar's doing the dinner rush."

"How would you like some company?"

"You? Always."

Her insides jump at his sincerity, and she finds herself blushing. "Um… how about if she's shorter, and younger, and thinks she's a walking s'more?"

There's a pause. "A what?" he finally asks.

"She got into the chocolate sauce, and the whipped marshmallows, and I was just able to stop her from adding the graham cracker crumbs."

"A s'more."

"Yup."

His laugh is like music to her ears and she's warm to her core. "What do you say, Joe? Help a girl out?"

"I think I can squeeze her in. How long do you need me to watch her?"

"Um... well, I've got a reading in Brooklyn, and you know how those can go."

"Yes, I do."

"So, I'm hoping just until 10 or so, but overnight, just in case things get a little rowdy."

"I can do that."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I'll bring her by in about," she checks her watch and winces, "45 minutes?"

"Sounds good."

"Later… wait. You're on your cellphone."

"Yup."

"I thought there were no cellphones in the diner."

"Nephew privileges."

"Or taking advantage of the system while the owner's gone?"

"Hey, what he doesn't know."

She shakes her head in amusement. "Still ever the hoodlum."

"Of course. Or have you not talked to Taylor lately?"

She laughs at that. "Bye Jess."

"See you."

She hangs up the phone with a beaming smile and finds it quite easy to finish getting ready.

Forty minutes later, Emmy is clean and properly dressed, and she's finishing the last touches of her makeup when there's a knock at the door. She answers it and it's Jess. He smiles and she mirrors it, although slightly confused. "I thought we were meeting at the diner." She moves to the side to let him through the doorway.

"We were, but Caesar came in a couple hours early and liberated me. Said something about wanting a little extra money." He says it smoothly, but there's a tint in his eyes, and she picks up on it.

She smiles knowingly. "Kirk came back, didn't he?"

He glares at her and she soaks it up with a smug grin. The sound of pitter patter from the hall lets her know that Emmy heard Jess was here. And sure enough, she came running around the corner with her hair flapping behind her. "Uncle Jess."

He beams and crouches as she takes a flying leap into his arms and he cradles her tight as he stands back up.

"I missed you!"

"I missed you too."

"I thought Daddy was coming."

Jess gives her a questioning a look which she answers with a pleading one of her own. He smiles and turns his head back to Emmy. "Well, I've been begging your mom to come see you, and she finally relented, deciding I was much better company than a stuffy old businessman."

Rory's eyebrows rise. "Jess!"

"But it's true, Mommy!"

His cocky smirk is still truly magnificent.

She blinks away the stardust in her eyes and frowns at the two of them. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"No!" Emmy shouts, clinging to Jess harder. "He just got here."

"We'll be good."

"Scout's honor."

They both put up three fingers and nod in unison, and Rory's struck dumb by the gesture.

Jess isn't her father, but in this moment, Emmy looks just like him. Emmy's wish paints itself down the spine of her mind.

"Okay then," she says, blinking to focus her thoughts. "Come here, squirt." She kisses Emmy on the top of her head.

As she straightens, Emmy yells, "Give Uncle Jess one too!"

And now she's short-circuiting. Rory gapes. "W-what?"

"So he doesn't feel left out."

"Uh…" She looks at Jess who seems surprised by the request as well. But he masks it well, turning his cheek with a playful flip of his head.

He's cute, she thinks as she bites back a smile and leans forward, gently pressing her lips right above his scruff. There's a jolt in her stomach, and she quickly leans back wide-eyed. His expression matches hers.

He feels it too.

And God, now everything's gonna be complicated. Before he can open up his mouth and say anything, she stammers out an "All right! I'm off," and turns away.

"Knock 'em dead."

His voice behind her stops her in her tracks. She twists back and he's looking at her, almost tentatively. And somehow, her brain supplies her with the knowledge that she hasn't thanked him yet, so she lets the words slip from her mouth. "Thank you."

He nods with a quirk of his lip.

"Bye Mommy!"

She tears her gaze away from him to her daughter. "Bye sweetie." Emmy gives a little wave.

Rory grips her purse and walks out the door. As soon as it's closed, she turns around and peers inside the little window. She's breathless at the sight of Jess and Emmy, identical smiles on their faces, and she feels a yearning she's never felt before burning in the pit of her stomach. It keeps her rooted on the porch unable to move.

I wish Jess was my daddy.

he could be he could be he could be

Her phone jingles in her purse and she forces her gaze away to grab it. It's Janice, making sure she's leaving now to beat the rush hour traffic. She swallows heavily and pushes her legs to move to her car, even if it feels like she's breaking herself in half to do it.

Ten hours later, Rory's lost the buzz of the party and alcohol. She's dead tired on her feet and barely making it up the stairs into her house. She jumbles her keys for a minute, leaning against the door and feeling her eyes about to close. Eventually she strains her eyes open and gets the key into the lock. She steps inside her house and blinks brightly at the light from the living room.

At first her mind thinks it's just Jess doing some late-night reading, but she can't find him anywhere. Instead she sees her curtains hanging from the ceiling fan and the couches standing on their sides. The tv is playing the DuVernay adaptation of "A Wrinkle in Time," and there's an empty box of pizza and a half-empty two liter of Pepsi on the floor.

She takes a few more steps inside, feeling angry and annoyed all of a sudden, because she wasn't expecting her house to be as disheveled as she felt when she got home, but when she sees a pair of bare feet sticking out of the curtains and sheets she stops short.

There's blankets and pillows on the floor, and she realizes: Jess built Emmy a fort. The knowledge touches her as she remembers her childhood with her mom. Some of her best memories were in that tiny shed with Lorelai coming up with creative ways to make it feel homely and safe. The nights they built forts with the bed and the shelves and cuddled under the blankets were the nights she felt the safest.

She peers around the curtains and sees fairy lights hanging off the top of the fort with what looks like tape. She follows the light's path to the two sleeping figures on the floor.

Her heart stops.

Emmy is snuggled against Jess' chest, her head just under the crook of his chin, and he's got his arm wrapped tightly around her.

She can't stop staring.

Before she knows it, she's grabbed her phone and takes a picture of them. When she looks at it, the yearning's back, thick and unmoving like a boulder that sits on her chest.

When there's a shift against the blanket, she jumps, afraid of being caught like a peeping Tom. But it's just Emmy shifting against Jess' chest.

Rory swallows tightly.

It looks so natural. Like it was meant to be.

Before her mind can supply her with any more crazy thoughts, she turns and heads up the stairs to get ready for bed. She changes into her pajamas, washes her face, brushes her teeth. She brushes her hair, the curls unloosening into waves around her face. When she's finished, she tiptoes back down the stairs to get Emmy into her actual bed.

She ducks under the curtain, getting onto her knees, and crawls over to where Emmy's resting against Jess' chest. She tries to pluck her from his arm, but Emmy squirms and lets out a small moan of protest. Jess moves and she freezes.

His eyes blink open.

"Rory?" His voice is thick and deep, heavy with sleep.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to wake you. I was just trying to get Emmy."

He glances around. "What time is it?"

"A little after two."

"That's late."

"Yeah." She tries reaching for Emmy again, but she turns away in Jess' arm.

"You can leave her."

"You sure?"

He nods and blinks at her. "You can stay too."

"Oh, but, I'm-"

He grabs her nightshirt and pulls her to him. She lands on his chest with a soft thud next to him. "It's late," he mutters in her hair.

She stiffens against him, completely aware that this is the closest she's been to him in over a decade. Well, maybe not the closest. She does hug him after all. But this feels closer. This feels intimate. His breath starts to steady out and she shifts against him. "Jess, I don't know-"

"Shhhh," he lets out, barely a breath.

"But I-"

"Shhhhh." His breath is even in seconds, and she knows he's fallen back to sleep.

She could get up, climb the stairs to her room and her bed, and he would be none the wiser. But there's a pull, like a thread that's tethered to him, so she follows it, lays her head back down against his chest. His shirt is soft against her cheek, and she smells the faint traces of detergent, books, even a hint of old cigarette smoke, something he's never been able to get rid of, even though he quit smoking years ago.

She melts into the familiar smell, a smell that's distinctly Jess. Her eyes droop. Exhaustion sinks into her bones.

She's asleep in seconds.

When he wakes up, everything feels soft and light, and he's half-convinced he's in a dream state given the lights twinkling above him. But the weights on his chest are real, as is his numb arm, and for a moment he just watches, breathes in the sight of them. Emmy is curled up on his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. Her bare toes barely reach past his hips. Rory is on his other side, loose curls collapsing into her face, her arm slung across his waist.

He feels that if he were to blink, the vision would disappear and he would be left with a hollow ache in its place. New York taught him not to dream. Liz taught him not to have expectations. Life and people disappoint you. They break you. It's better to be alone. And he believed that everyday until he met the woman resting against him.

There were times in the past when he regretted meeting Rory, when one of their many ill-fated encounters left him crushed and struggling to breathe. And he promised himself the night she closed the door at Truncheon that he was done. For good. That he had to be, for his own sake. They kept things cordial and friendly in the years after, but there was always a bit of distance in their interactions, a barrier that kept them from getting too close. They kept visits short and sweet and intermittent throughout the years, only seeing each other at a handful of holidays.

And then he stepped into her office at the Gazette, and inspired her to write her book, and in no time at all, they had rekindled a friendship that rivaled the one in their youth, connecting over conversations of old and new books, of classic and new music, of eggrolls and junk food, and slowly her book came together and the old flame in his heart reignited into a new hope. He struggled against it, especially after finding out she was pregnant, but he succumbed to his feelings the second Emmy was born.

He could barely fight against one Gilmore girl. He was defenseless against two.

These feelings been simmering under his skin for five years, for twenty, a present undercurrent in every conversation, every hug, every smile, every look into those crystal blue eyes. And with both of them against him now, he feels his heart will combust. He takes a heavy inhale, to breathe them in a final time before he gets up.

He keeps his movements small and slow, careful not to wake them up. He shifts Emmy to her side, and softly inches away from her. She wilts into the cushioned floor. He turns and drags his arm from underneath Rory. She stirs and he freezes, eyes wide on her face, afraid of her waking up, of what her reaction would be. She never did handle change very well. But she tilts her face and snuggles into the floor, and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

Once his arm's back, he shakes it to gain feeling, and then stands up. He heads to the kitchen. Knowing the girls, they would want breakfast when they wake up, and he could at least give them that, if not what he truly wanted.

He grabs a new filter from the drawer and the jug of coffee grains from the shelf, and he gets to making the morning joe. As it percolates, he rummages through the fridge and is surprised to find some actual fruit and vegetables amid the various containers of take-out. He reckons it's Luke's doing. He finds a full container of blueberries, a half-one of strawberries, a mostly full carton of eggs, a stick of butter, and some milk just past the sell by date. He smells it and there's no foul odor so he takes it and places it on the counter with the other food.

He grabs flour and baking powder from the cupboard, along with a large mixing bowl and whisk, and soon starts mixing the ingredients for pancakes.

The coffee is finished soon, and he's halfway done with the first batch when he hears small rapid footsteps and he knows Emmy is awake. She runs into the kitchen, sees what Jess is making, and yells "Pancakes!"

He immediately shushes and points to Rory still sleeping in the living room.

She winces and lowers her voice to a whisper. "Pancakes," she repeats.

He huffs a laugh through his nose before pointing to both fruits. "Which topping?"

"Blueberry," she whispers excitedly. She climbs into her booster seat and waits for the food, swinging her legs underneath her.

He adds the blueberries to the batter, and in a few minutes has a small stack ready for her to eat. He adds a little butter and syrup on each one and cuts them into smaller squares. He tells her to wash her hands as he finds some orange juice in the fridge and pours her glass. She gets busy with eating as soon as he hands her the plate.

Soon he hears a grumble behind him and he looks up.

Rory wanders in, clothes rumpled, hair disheveled and blue eyes bleary with sleep.

He thinks she's never looked more beautiful in her life.

Her face scrunches up, ridiculously cute, and she holds out her hand, demanding.

He smirks and reaches over to pour her a cup of coffee. He pushes the cup into her hand, and she inhales deeply with eyes closed before taking a sip. Once she's downed enough to save all of Stars Hollow from dehydration, she blinks her eyes at him and gives him a slow sweet smile. And fuck, he would do anything to have this every morning for the rest of his life.

He returns her smile and gestures to the fruit. She points to the blueberries and he whips up another batch, sliding them over to her when they're done. He takes the strawberries for himself and finishes off the last of the blueberries in an extra batch of pancakes.

They eat together, the two adults grinning at Emmy who smacks around each mouthful, her appreciation evident on her face. It's quiet, but Jess finds the solace peaceful.

And then a voice calls in the front hallway. "Where's my beautiful daughter and my most precious granddaughter?"

Lorelai.

Shit.

Rory nervously looks at him before responding. "In here, Mom."

"MiMi!" Emmy yells happily.

Jess swallows down his food.

He mostly gets on well with Lorelai nowadays, but she's always been a bit of a wildcard when it comes to him and Rory. And he can't imagine her reaction being any good when she finds out he not only spent the night, but also stayed the morning. It's awfully domestic, and Lorelai will see him as domestic when Stars Hollow allows Kirk to be mayor. Which is never. He braces himself for an outburst.

Lorelai stops in her tracks when she's in sight of the kitchen. "Jess?" she asks in a curious rather than accusatory tone.

He looks up. "Yeah?"

She studies the scene around her, the messy fort in the living room, the freshly cooked food on the table, and she comes to the conclusion he knew she would. "You stayed the night?"

Rory pipes up, probably trying to diffuse a possible argument. "I got back late, too late for him to drive back to Philly."

Lorelai points behind her. "And the fort?"

Jess points at Emmy. "Her idea."

Lorelai slowly nods and looks at the spread on the table. Her eyes brighten at the prospect of food.

"Pancakes?"

"Blueberry."

"Uncle Jess makes the best pancakes!"

Lorelai squints her eyes at her granddaughter. "I'll be the judge of that." She sits at the empty seat at the table as Jess puts a few pancakes on a plate for her. Lorelai grabs it and then another empty plate, on which she puts a stack of butter and a pound of syrup.

Jess watches in amusement. "You sure you don't want some pancakes to go with that?"

"This, nephew," she points to the plate overflowing with syrup, "is for when I have to cover up the inevitable horrible taste of your pancakes."

Rory rolls her eyes at her mother's antics. "Mom, they're good."

"For you, maybe. But I've been eating Luke's pancakes for years, so no regular pancake is satisfying anymore."

He bends over to Rory and whispers at her. "Don't you guys eat the same pancakes?"

Rory just gives him a pointed look. He chuckles and waits for Lorelai to take a bite.

She cuts a small piece of the top one, brings it to her nose and sniffs it, and when deeming it acceptable, puts the bare piece of pancake into her mouth. She chews, and her eyes go wide.

"What the hell happened in here?" Luke yells from the front door.

Lorelai hastily swallows. "Luke!" she yells. "Don't come in here!"

"What? Why? What's going on?"

"Bad things. Very bad things. Witchcraft, spells, potions."

Luke rolls his eyes as he walks in but stops when he sees Jess at the table.

"Nephew."

"Uncle."

"Grandpa!" There's syrup all over Emmy's face, and it's adorable.

Luke grins. "Hey kiddo." He walks over to her and gives her a one-armed hug. He walks around the table and does the same to Rory.

"Hey Rory."

"Morning Luke."

Luke steps back with his hands on his hips and surveys the scene at the table. "So… pancakes."

"Bad. Very bad," Lorelai cuts in.

"They don't look bad."

"It's devil magic."

"Which means they're good," Luke deadpans.

"Eye of a newt, skin of a toad, blood of a virgin bad."

"Wow, they must be really good."

"They are!" Emmy exclaims as she stuffs another piece into her mouth. "He makes better pancakes than you, Grandpa."

Luke looks at Jess with a questioning look.

Jess shrugs. "Less milk, fluffier eggs."

Luke nods, as if satisfied with the answer, and then speaks as Jess feels the pit of his stomach drop. "Well, this seems… domestic."

Here we go. "This coming from the owner of a diner."

Luke puts his hands up. "I'm just saying…"

"I made breakfast. Sue me."

"That's awfully nice of you," Luke says with a smirk.

Jess frowns and points at him. "Stop it."

Rory's watching the two with a wide grin on her face. "No, don't Luke. He can't deny the cat's out of the bag now."

Jess sighs. "Rory," he starts, but she cuts him off.

"We can ask the expert," Rory says, looking at her daughter. "Emmy, do you think Uncle Jess is a nice person?"

"He's the nicest bestest person in the whole world!"

There's shock among two people at the table.

"You bribed her with the pancakes, didn't you?" Luke asks Jess.

"You should know. Isn't that how you got Lorelai?"

"Nope, he got me with the coffee." Lorelai's staring at the pancakes with a disgruntled look on her face.

Luke shakes his head. "Oh, just eat the pancakes already."

"But Jess made them. They can't be good." Lorelai whines.

"He used to work for me, Lorelai. He knows how to cook."

"As a waiter, Luke. And a horrible one at that. Do you remember his customer service?"

Rory giggles and Jess smirks. "I gave excellent customer service. It was the customers that were horrible."

"I'm sure I'm just imagining all those monosyllabic and snarky conversations."

"Hey, I left you with the coffee pot numerous times."

"He has a point, Mom."

Lorelai looks horrified. "Shush you. My mind can't hold a conversation and comprehend that Jess might have been nice a couple times in his disaffected youth."

"I keep saying I was misunderstood. Ow!"

Luke removes his hand and points at Lorelai's plate. "Eat the pancakes."

"But Jess-"

"I taught him how, so by proxy they're made by me."

Actually he learned how to make them from an older lady in an apartment complex he stayed at with Liz when he was eight, but he learned improvements from Luke, so he guesses that's close enough to the truth.

Lorelai seems appeased by Luke's answer and takes another bite.

Rory seems amused by her mother's dilemma. She grabs a cup of coffee and slides it over to her. "You should try the coffee."

Lorelai freezes and stares at the offending mug with a grimace.

Luke shows the exasperation on his face. "Again, I'm the one who taught him how."

Lorelai takes a ginger sip and brightens at the taste. She quickly downs half the cup before clearing her throat and looking at Rory. "So daughter, what were you up to last night?"

And that's his cue to leave. He stands up and Lorelai smirks at him knowingly.

"Leaving so soon, Jess?"

"Yup. Gotta get back to Philly before rush hour. Got inventory to do tonight."

"Truncheon includes working? Work that you actually do? Who knew, nephew?"

"Well Auntie," he smirks back, "it's no Stars Hollow Inn, but it has its moments."

Lorelai drops her face into a scowl. "Get out of here."

He tips his imaginary hat at her and walks towards the door.

Lorelai calls after him. "And if you happen to find a tree to wrap your car around, feel free to do so."

"Mom!"

"Lorelai!"

"What? He knows how to walk away from a car crash. Don't you, Jess?"

He knows it's mostly jest now, but the jab still stings. Crashing the car and hearing Rory's cry of pain is one of the worst moments of his life. And he's been through a few.

He hears the scrape of a chair behind him and Rory calls for him. "Wait Jess, I'll walk you out."

He listens and they walk out onto the porch together. Rory closes the door behind him.

She gives him an apologetic smile. "Sorry about Mom. She is an acquired taste, that Lorelai."

He tries for a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It's a good thing I've known her for years then."

She fiddles with her hands for a moment, and his feet itch to move.

"So, this was nice," she says.

"Yeah. It was fun watching Emmy last night."

She opens her mouth and then closes it.

"Rory?" he asks.

She twists her body a little and looks at the paint chippings on the porch. "I thought last night was fun too. And this morning," she admits.

He's distracted by the tinge of pink on her cheeks. He thinks he'll always get a kick out of seeing her blush.

"Yeah. Bedhead Rory is adorable."

Her head snaps up and she shoots him a glare, her face a delicious red. He bites his lip.

"Watch it, mister," she warns.

He gives a broad grin in response.

She inhales and looks back at the porch. "I, um – I've got that literary dinner coming up in a couple weeks-"

"For the foundation, right?"

"Yeah, and I was thinking of letting Mom just babysit Emmy like usual, but after last night, I was thinking that if you wanted to, you could maybe… come down for the weekend? If you wanted to? And if you're free from work that is. If that's okay?"

His face goes blank from shock. He wasn't expecting that. There's a new stirring in his gut.

Rory looks at him, nervous. "Or not. It's totally up to you. I just thought that maybe we could…"

"Yeah," he quickly cuts in.

"Yeah?" The hint of a smile is at her lips.

He feels his lips turn up as well, cause this feels like… "Yeah. I mean, I've got to talk to the guys about it, but it should be fine."

Her face brightens at that. "Good."

He mirrors her. "Good."

"So, we'll maybe see you in a couple weeks?"

He nods. "I'll call you."

"Okay. Bye Jess."

"Bye Rory."

She goes back inside, and he stares at the closed door for a few minutes. He reruns the conversation in his mind and identifies the stirring as hope bubbling inside of him. He does his best to temper it though, tries to keep his expectations realistic. Every time he's gotten his hopes up when Rory's involved, it's always ended badly.

But, he counters to himself, there was a spark of interest in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time, and his heart couldn't help but jump after it.

He walks down the steps feeling lighter than he has in a long time. And when he starts the car and drives out of the driveway, he thinks maybe, just maybe, this could be the one dream he won't be disappointed by.

Two weeks flies by, and Jess is back at her house the day of the foundation dinner, in which she leaves early because she's eager to get back, and they spend the weekend falling back into old habits. There's thai food dinners that feel so much like the dinner dates she and Jess used to go on, when they'd rent a movie to mock. But there's new activities too, with Emmy here as well. There's hide and seek, and board games, and pillow fights, and she doesn't think she's ever been this happy. On Saturday night, when Emmy's snuggled against Jess' chest, she sneaks a picture and posts it to Instagram, ignoring the mocking she gets from Lorelai. And when they're asleep, she stays staring at her phone, basking in the smiles of contentment on their faces.

In the morning, he leaves and goes back to Philly, and she gets a call from Janice.

When she first wrote Gilmore Girls, she never imagined so many people would be interested in a mother daughter story. However, with the success of her book, Janice and her editor are now proposing the idea of a sequel, this time revolving around the adventures between herself and Emmy.

When they pitch her the novel, she suddenly realizes why Lorelai was so hesitant to have Rory share their story. There's a level of vulnerability in writing about yourself as a mother. Being a daughter is easy. You can just blame your mistakes on your parents. But being a mother? Especially an imperfect one? She felt uneasy at the prospect of sharing her life.

But with a little convincing, she gives in, and suddenly she's back to writing chapters and begging Jess to edit them. And soon it really does feel like the older days, before Emmy was born, when Jess would stop by with the latest chapters and takeout. Only this time, everything is better. Because Emmy is here. And Jess is…

She's coming to terms with the fact that she likes him. Really likes him.

Probably even loves him.

Okay, maybe there's no probably about it.

Feelings that have laid dormant for so long have strengthened in their absence and have been blooming with every smile and every look of adoration.

She's always been awkward handling emotions, but this…

This has felt easy. Comfortable. Like sliding back into a well-worn sweater at the back of her closet.

A part of her is scared, she always is a little when it comes to Jess because everything seems so intense, and even now, that hasn't changed.

But she can admit this to herself.

She wants this.

She wants this with him.

The three of them just finished dinner and are rearranging the couches to remake the amazing fort. Emmy and Rory are laying the pillows and cushions on the floor while Jess is pushing the couches up until they're vertical. Rory finds it hard to look away when his muscles contract underneath his shirt like that. But when Emmy whines at her to hurry up, she laughs and obliges.

It's Emmy's preferred way of sleeping when Jess is here.

If she's honest with herself, it's hers too.

They turn on the tv and settle amongst the pillows with Jess in the middle. He's always in the middle.

They put on something random for the ambient noise. Emmy is already lying against Jess, eyes groggy. She'll be asleep in minutes.

Jess brushes his hand through her daughter's hair until she falls asleep, and Rory watches them fondly.

Before she knows it, she opens her mouth. "Why aren't you married?"

He stills and darts his eyes to her face. He thinks for a moment before he responds. "Well, why aren't you?" he asks, trying to redirect.

She shakes her head at him. That won't work this time. "I asked you first."

He breathes in deeply and turns away, his brow furrowed for a moment. "I guess," he starts slowly, "I just haven't found that special someone yet."

"There's been no one over the years? No one to pique that interest of yours?"

She sees him throw a sideglance at her and she immediately thinks of Yale. You know we're supposed to be together.

She wonders if he still feels like that.

"There's been a few over the years," he says carefully. Her heart pangs at the thought of Jess loving someone else. "But it's never been something I've ever been able to make work. I'm starting to think I'm not cut out for it."

"I don't believe that," she says firmly. "You're great with Emmy. I think you're meant for more permanent things."

"Well, you always did believe I was meant for better than I saw for myself."

"And I was right."

He gives her a soft smile at that. He tilts his head. "What about you?"

She looks down and fiddles with her shirt. "Same reason I suppose."

"Why didn't you marry Logan? You loved him, right?"

Yes, Jess was particularly familiar with how she felt about Logan. Even now, when she thinks about the night at Truncheon, she feels shame.

"Sometimes," she starts. "Sometimes love isn't enough. Sometimes you can have all the love in the world for a person, but the timing isn't right." She pauses and peers at him. He's listening carefully, his gaze locked on her.

She looks away as she continues. "With Logan, I think it was more about fit. Mom says it has to fit. And as much as I tried, we didn't. We belong in different worlds."

She thinks of Logan's proposal, how he proposed in front her grandparents and the entire dinner party. She thinks of the grandeur of his gesture, something that's expected with his background. She thinks of scaffolds and Martha's Vineyard and tango clubs, and while she's fond of the memories, she's calm. It doesn't make her heart race or pang anymore.

She speaks again. "He gave me Emmy, and I'll always be grateful for that, but I think our time ended with her."

He nods, contemplating her words.

After that they're both quiet, lost in their thoughts. Jess changes the movie to something more entertaining, and they watch the screen.

She finds herself blinking to stay awake, and soon she allows her eyes to close, welcoming the softness of cotton t-shirts.

Before she enters the state of weightless dreams, Jess' voice enters her ear. "You'll have it, you know?"

"Have what?" she responds sleepily.

"The permanent dream. The house, the job, the family with the guy you want."

She wants to say she thinks she already has.

Instead she swallows and says, "So will you."

"Nah, I think it's too late for me."

He hides it well, but there's a sad crease to his forehead that she wants to soothe with her hand, but her limbs feel tired. She doesn't know how, maybe it's this connection between them that never goes away, but somehow she knows he's referencing them and their several failed attempts at restarting their teenaged romance.

She thinks about now, about how they're both unattached, how he's over every month, a seamless part of her life, about how the timing could finally be right for them. She decides he's wrong. Her feelings wouldn't still be this strong if he wasn't.

"It's never too late," she finds herself whispering.

She watches as the words take root in his mind, watches the crease fall in curiosity as he turns his face to hers. He stares at her, and she gets caught up in his eyes, so dark in the cocoon of blankets and couches. Sexual thoughts whisper their selves against her skin. She feels the urge to press her lips to his, but instead she averts her eyes and presses her face into his shoulder, breathing in deeply. They should wait for that, when they're not under the spell of nostalgia and darkness. And when Emmy's not sleeping on the other side of him.

He doesn't say anything. Just brings his arm up to wrap around her, cradling her to his chest.

They fall asleep like that, minds pondering on what ifs and maybes, continuing the decades dance of cat and mouse lovers.

In the morning, everything is soft and light, and she feels like she's floating in the strength of her feelings. She reaches for him, but he's gone, along with her daughter. She smells the scent of coffee and eggs, and she's still surprised that he's always up before her. When they were younger, she or Luke would always have to drag him out of bed to get to school or work, but now, he's up with the early worms.

She walks in the kitchen to see Jess leaning across the table and Emmy happily stuffing a bite of French toast in her mouth. Her gut tells her this is right. This is what she's supposed to wake up to every morning.

Jess turns at her entrance, straightens and grabs a mug of coffee and plate full of food. He slides it over to the empty chair by Emmy. Rory smiles her thanks and digs in.

"So what are we doing today?" she asks turning to Emmy. Jess takes a bite of his French toast.

"We can go to the bookstore in Hartford! Uncle Jess can show me the sequel!"

Jess clicks his tongue. "We'll have to do that next time. It's back to the salt mines, Happy."

Emmy pouts. "Already? But you just got here."

"I've been here all weekend. Now I gotta go back home."

"Will you come back next week?"

"That depends on how fast your mom writes." He gives Rory a cheeky wink.

She responds with a flick to his forearm. He feints a wince.

She smiles at him and looks back at her daughter. "You like having him here, don't you, babe?"

"Uh-huh."

Jess smirks. "We should have you checked for brainwashing."

Rory immediately turns and gives him a stern face, and almost breaks composure at seeing her daughter with the same face. Jess looks completely struck, eyes darting between the two.

Emmy purses her lips as if deep in thought, and then turns to her. "He should move in, Mommy. That way he'd be here all the time."

God, she would love that.

At Jess' wide eyes, Rory chuckles. "Well, that might be a bit too much." She takes a sip of her coffee and thinks of the last few times they did this, this act of domesticity. She thinks of how much it doesn't feel like an act. She thinks of how it feels like home. She feels happy.

"But," Rory continues, giving Jess a side glance, "seeing you every weekend would be nice."

He stills in eating and stares at her.

She bites her lip. "And, maybe," she adds, her voice slightly shaky, push through Rory, "if we still like it in the future, maybe we can make it something… a bit more permanent." She nails her gaze to the table as she tries to keep the blush off her face.

He's quiet though, and that forces her to look up.

He's frozen watching her, disbelief etching around the corners of his mouth. "Permanent?" his voice croaks.

"Really?!" Emmy asks, her eyes bright with excitement.

Rory gives a shrug, trying to play at being cool. "Yeah, but first, perhaps a test run… to see if we like it."

Jess seemingly dethaws and swallows his food. "To see if it fits," he says slowly.

She nods and smiles. "Exactly."

He bites the edge of his lip. "You may get sick of me."

"Not true!" Emmy declares with her fork in her air.

Rory runs her hand over her daughter's head, looking at her fondly. "I think I agree with Emmy. Besides, weren't you the one that said my life would be dull without you?"

She takes a peek and sees him struggling and failing to hide a grin, and inside her, the butterflies are spreading old wings.

After breakfast she walks him out, and they both stand on the porch in a weird, but comfortable silence, portraying this new understanding in their relationship.

She looks up at him and he returns it before looking at his car. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Goodbyes were never his strong suit.

When his eyes return to hers, she turns and presents her cheek. He huffs a laugh and steps close. When he bends down, she turns and connects her lips to his. He inhales his surprise, and she grabs the edges of his jacket to keep him close. She hears a thud, feels his arms wrap around hers, and a sigh escapes when he presses firmly against her. Over fifteen years since the last one, and yet his kiss still makes her feel heady and feverish, even when he's taking his time, savoring the feel of her mouth.

There's a crash inside and they spring apart, both aware of the tiny five-year-old inside. She shyly averts her eyes and tucks her hair behind her ears.

"Bye Jess," she whispers.

He ducks his head to catch her gaze and give her small smile. "Bye Rory."

His hand reaches out and caresses her arm before he grabs his bag and turns, headed towards his car.

She feels warm at the touch, even as he drives away.

She's busy working on the new chapter, eager to get it done by the time Jess arrives this weekend. She hasn't been able to stop thinking about the kiss, often getting distracted with pure giddiness, and even now, two days later, she smiles bright at the memory of it.

She's in the middle of describing her absolute terror of when Emmy got colic for the first time, when there's a knock at the door. She pauses for a moment, trying to figure out who it could be. Her mom's out with Emmy, but she never knocks; she just walks right in. She guesses it's one of the townies. At the second knock, she hurries to finish the sentence, saves the document, and goes to open the door. Logan's standing on her stoop dressed in his usual suit.

"Logan," she says dumbly.

He gives her that lazy smile. "Hey Ace."

"What – what are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

She's unimpressed with the banter. Right now she's too confused and needs answers. Shouldn't he be across the ocean, doing something with Odette or for his father?

Logan sees her face and clarifies. "Here to see Emmy and talk to you if I could."

"Okay," she drawls. "Well Emmy's out with Mom right now, but," she pauses, a little wary of what he could want. "I guess talking's okay."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." She's off balance by his visit, and she's not quite sure what to think of it. She goes ahead and gets the obvious elephant out of the way. Better to just get it over with.

"How's Odette?"

"Fine."

"She make the trip with you?"

"No, she's still in London."

"Does she know you're here?"

"I'm sure she suspects."

Rory frowns. "Logan."

He waves her off. "It's fine. We're not really seeing eye to eye at the moment."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Something like that."

Rory processes his words, and she feels a familiarity at the situation. She's about to pin it down when Logan interrupts her thoughts.

"How are things with you?"

"Good."

"Emmy?"

"Good."

"Your mom?"

"Good."

He cocks his head at her answers. "The writing?" he asks, as if trying to probe for more information.

Rory relents. No use in getting into an argument right now. "Good. Working on another book actually. Jess is helping me with it again."

He rolls his eyes. "Ah yes. Jess."

Her brows furrow at his tone. "What? What's wrong with Jess?"

"What can I say, Ace? The guy knows how to hold a grudge."

"Well, it's not like you've given him a reason to change his mind."

He looks surprised at her attitude. "Touché, Ace," he says soberly.

"If you'd like to, you can start by showing up more than once a year, keep the plans you actually make, call before you just randomly show up-"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I know I haven't been around."

"What a shocker." The attitude is also a bit of a surprise to her, but then again, it's not. She's used to holding things in and letting them fester. She guesses that now's a good chance to let some of it out, now that he's actually here to let it out on.

He nods his head at her statement, fishing for words, until he speaks. "Look, it's intimidating okay?"

His admission takes her back.

"I take a look at you and this family with literally the whole town inside of it, and every time I'm here, I feel like an outsider. She's my daughter. I shouldn't have to feel like an outsider every time I see her."

"And who's fault is that, Logan? You haven't been here."

"You haven't made it easy for me to be here."

Her head jerks in surprise. "W-what?"

"I'm just saying, every time I'm here, there's always someone around, your mom, Lane, your freaking hunk of a boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

He shoots her a look that says "come on."

"He's not," she repeats. At least not yet. "Is that what this is about? You're jealous?"

"That your ex knows my daughter better than I do? That she seems to prefer his company to mine? Hell yeah, I'm jealous!"

She's unnerved by his anger, unsure of what he wants. She voices her confusion. "What do you want me to do, Logan?"

He sighs loudly before answering. "Look, I've rented an apartment in Stamford. I've got some business there with the Gazette. I'm gonna be here for awhile."

She straightens her back. "You are?" To say she's shocked would be an understatement.

"Yeah. And, if I could, I'd like to spend some time with Emmy."

She feels a smile curving at the sides of her mouth. "I think she would love that," she says softly.

Logan mirrors it. "Yeah. So would I. And I'd like that time to be alone."

Her smile drops. "Oh." She twists her hands.

She should have expected this. Of course Logan would want some kind of custody or visitation rights, especially since she threatened him the last time they spoke. Still, she feels anxious by the sudden news. But he knows Emmy's hers. So as long as he doesn't try to fully take her away from her, things should be okay.

"Well, that should be fine," she says eventually. "I can drop her off at the apartment or you can pick her up here-"

"Yeah, that's not what I meant."

And now she's confused. "Then what?" she asks slowly, feeling a sense of dread at his words.

"I want her to look at me like her dad, not anyone else. And she can't do that if they're around."

Jess. He means Jess. She's irritated at the implication.

"Look," he says, trying to placate her. "I made a mess of things years ago, all right? I never should have married Odette. And if I could, I'd do things differently. I'd ask you to marry me."

Her head shoots up at that.

"But honestly Ace, even if I had, I don't think you would have said yes."

He's right. It hurts to admit, but he is. As much as she's loved him, somewhere, deep down inside, she knows they never would have made it.

"And whether that has to do with you and writer boy—"

"His name is Jess," she interrupts annoyed.

"—you and Jess," he amends, "or not, you wouldn't have. And maybe five years is too late to start, but I'd still like the chance all the same. And I'd prefer it without you and… Jess playing house without me."

He shouldn't know that. How could he know that? He doesn't associate with anyone in her circle except for… "Did Grandma say something to you?"

He blinks in puzzlement. "No. I haven't seen your grandmother in years, ever since she left the DAR."

"Then how…"

He wiggles his phone. "Instagram's been a great way at keeping updated."

She frowns. Of course he saw the post. "A phone call, or you know, an actual visit would be great also."

He sucks his teeth in acknowledgment. "True. Even without it though, it's kind of obvious. You and Emmy talk about him all the time."

"No, we don't."

"Please. It was obvious the night I met him. Why do you think I was such an ass that night?"

"Because you were drunk."

"Well, that helped. You looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass helped even more."

She's dumbfounded. Had it really been that obvious, even back then? She thought she had moved on. She thought she was in love with Logan.

He sighs and gives a wave of his hand. "Look, whatever's going on between you two, that's your business. But my time with Emmy is mine, and I don't want him around for that."

"He's family," she argues. He can't possibly ask her to push Jess away. Not now. Not when they were finally getting somewhere. Who did he think he was coming in here and making demands of her?

"I know, Ace. But I'm her father."

"Only when you feel like it!" she yells. He has no right to play that card.

"Why do you think I'm here now? I'm trying to change it!"

"By asking me to get rid of Jess!"

"Can you honestly see me and him being civil with Emmy around?"

She droops. She knows Jess would never do anything to hurt Emmy. And she knows he's got a better handle on his temper than he used to. But she thinks back to that one dinner at the bar in Hartford, how it only took a little bit of needling from Logan before Jess was walking out. And while he might not have thrown a punch, she knew he wanted to.

That was back when he didn't know Logan. When he didn't really have a reason to hate him. But now he does.

No, she really can't picture it. Jess hates Logan. And Logan hates Jess. And the last thing she would want would be for them to fight in front of Emmy.

Telling Jess not to be around anymore. The idea of it seems preposterous. He's written all over her life. To lose him now would be like losing a limb, and she doesn't think she can do that. But doesn't Emmy deserve the chance to know her father?

Logan must read her hesitation, because he continues in a softer tone. "I'm just asking for a few months, okay? Let me build a relationship with her as her father, and then you guys can do whatever."

She finds she can breathe a little easier. Not forever. A few months. "A few months?" she repeats.

"Yeah. That seems pretty reasonable, right? And you said this is something Emmy would want."

Rory can still feel her heart tearing in two at the proposal. On the one hand, this arrangement would give Emmy the chance to really know her father, in a way that she never got to when she was five. On the other hand, she'd have to give up Jess right when it seemed like they would actually work out this time. Wait. Not give up. Postpone. God, if that didn't feel like an epitaph on their love life already.

But if it worked, and Logan was actually staying around, then she could give Emmy everything she never got as a child. And isn't that the job of a parent? To give your child everything you can, especially the things you never did?

Her mind's busy trying to come up with a pros and cons list, but Logan interrupts her.

He takes her hand in his and smiles that smile that used to make her go weak in the knees. "What do you say, Ace? Give me some time for me to know my daughter?"

Before she can really stop to think, she hears the "okay" fall from her lips and feels her insides catch on fire.

Like Rory thought, Emmy is delighted to see her father on the couch when Lorelai drops her off. And after a brief discussion, the two parents agree to let Logan take Emmy back with him to his apartment for the night. Rory packs Emmy an overnight bag, goes over a few rules with Logan, and before she knows it, they're driving away in his Porsche, and she's left alone with her thoughts.

A few hours in, and already she's worried she made the wrong decision. Which is easy to do with Logan, she knows. Something about his eyes, his smile, his voice, he can say a few words and get her to do anything. It's always been like that, and even now it's no exception.

Now that she's alone, she tries to simulate a pro/con list in her head, but it doesn't work. She's too confused and anxious to think rationally. Logan, Jess, Jess, Logan, why do those words feel so familiar? Her mom's voice rings in her mind: it's enough already. But if she knew the right answer, wouldn't she have made it already? Her heart tries to tell her that she has, but her brain keeps asking which one.

You know which one. Why does that scare her more than anything?

She eats an early dinner, takes a bath and gets in bed. She does her best to sleep, but she's restless. Her mind rages on.

The next day is more of the same, and even coffee doesn't seem to help. Lorelai comes over, her usual exuberant self, but after a few minutes, Rory kicks her out, claiming sudden inspiration and a need to write. She promises to make it up to her tomorrow.

Logan drops off Emmy around five, and she's wearing new clothes and a huge grin on her face. She talks a mile a minute as she jumps into Rory's arms, and seeing her exhilaration loosens the knot in Rory's chest. Logan gives her a grin as well and asks if he can have her that weekend. He's got tickets to take her to see "Jewels" at the Bushnell Center. When Emmy looks at her with sparkling eyes, Rory agrees readily.

This is good. This is right. This is exactly what she wanted. For Emmy to have a relationship with her dad. For Emmy to be happy.

And begrudgingly, she agrees that not having Jess around makes things less complicated, and that's good too. Simple, good, uncomplicated.

Everything Emmy deserves.

But at night, when Emmy's long asleep, Rory grabs her phone and unlocks her screen. When she stares at the photo of Emmy against Jess' chest, her heart burns.

By the time Friday rolls around, Rory feels her whole body's ablaze. Sleep has been pitiful, so much so that even Lorelai has expressed some concern. Rory waves her off, doing her best to smile convincingly, and her mother doesn't press thankfully. She's jittery without the help of caffeine, and she has no idea how to make this all go away.

She's able to keep up a front for her daughter though, her daughter that's been so excited by the appearance of her dad that Rory feels guilty for questioning her decision.

But when Logan carries Emmy around, she can't stop the slow clenching of her heart, as if someone has his hand around it. And when Logan comes over Friday with Emmy leaping into his arms, there's a painful jolt in her chest telling her the man in the image is wrong.

He's all wrong.

Rory pushes the feeling aside and smiles at the two of them, and she goes to get Emmy's stuff for the weekend. When she comes back, bag in tow, there's a knock at the door, and a male voice enters the space.

Jess.

She freezes because in her panic induced frenzy during the week, she forgot about the plans with Jess this weekend, and now everything is complicated because of Logan. She looks over at the father and daughter pair in the living room, and predictably, her daughter's eyes light up as soon as she hears Jess' voice. When Jess rounds the corner, Emmy is out of Logan's arms and rushing towards him. Rory notices Jess halt as he sees Logan, but he masks it as he grins at the blonde plowing into his leg. There's a molting in her chest at the sight.

"Uncle Jess!" Emmy squeals. She lifts her arms to be picked up and Jess obliges.

"Hey Emmy-boo." Jess looks at Rory with a question in his eyes, but she averts her gaze. Meekly, she brings Emmy's bag over to Logan.

Emmy is blissfully unaware of the situation. "Daddy's here!" she exclaims.

"I can see that."

"He's taking me to the ballet!"

"Really? Well don't tell Miss Patty, or she'll have you wrangled into a tutu in no time."

"No she won't. Mommy and MiMi and Aunty Lane will stop her."

"Oh they will, will they?"

"Uh-huh. With cymbals and The Clash, and Joe Drummer's jacket."

Jess gives a tender smile, and Rory's heart aches. "Joe Strummer," he corrects.

"Joe Strummer."

Logan cuts in. "We should get going, pumpkin."

Emmy swings her head to Logan. "Can Uncle Jess come?"

Rory's not sure if she's ever seen Logan look more displeased at an idea. Still, he smoothly recovers his composure. "I'm afraid not. This is daddy only time."

Logan gives a smile, but Rory can tell it's pointed. At her. Because she just promised Logan that Jess wouldn't be around. Only she hadn't been able to bring herself to have that conversation. She always did seem to prefer when confrontation came and bit her in the ass.

Jess sets Emmy down with a ruffle of her hair, and Rory feels like lava.

She wants this.

Why is it that right when she admits it to herself she has to push it away?

She sees Logan pick up Emmy and walk out and notices Jess' eyes take on a hard edge. She swallows and hurries to her desk to try and act like she's preoccupied.

She hears Jess drop his bag onto the couch, his hands rummage through it, and she knows he's got the latest chapters she sent him. She quickly opens up a drawer and starts placing pens and bundles of post-it notes inside it.

His voice speaks behind her. "Here's the chapters you sent me."

"Thanks," she replies distantly. "You can put it on the table."

He does so, and they're together in awkward silence for a moment.

In the old days, she would have to be the one to speak, to break the silence surrounding him, but it seems maturity has taught him some things because he breaks the ice first.

"What's going on?" his voice suspicious, like he knows she's acting weird. Because she is.

"Nothing," she responds in a clipped tone. She doesn't want to have this conversation right now. She wants to delay it as long as possible, so that she can keep this dream alive instead of in ashes.

"Why's Logan here?"

"He's in town on business." She keeps her answers short, concise, but a glance out of the corner of her eye confirms that he knows what she's doing.

"And?" he prompts gently.

She sighs and turns around. She never could hide anything from him. "And, he might be staying around for awhile." She tries to sound nonchalant, for both their sakes.

He doesn't buy it, judging by the click his tongue. "Huh."

She stills, sensing something in his tone. "What?"

"About time."

"Jess," she says in warning, wanting him to back off from the topic. She's a bit sensitive at the moment. Her heart's all over the place.

"I'm just saying, it's good he finally knows he's a dad. It took him five years, but hey, better than nothing right?"

"That is not fair," she argues. "You know the situation's complicated."

"It's not actually," he retorts. "It's not complicated at all. You have a kid, you take care of it."

And now she's agitated. His blunt honesty always had a way of making her face reality. And he's right. She knows he is. How could she not, when they both grew up knowing the damage an absent father could do. But she doesn't want honesty right now. Because honesty meant listening to the fiery furnace of her gut that's telling her she's making a mistake. She's making a mistake going along with Logan's demands.

But she can't be. Not when Logan is Emmy's father. That's not a mistake because her daughter isn't a mistake. Still, she can't settle her nerves, so she redirects. "Explains what you're doing here then."

His eyebrows rise at the attitude, clearly caught off-guard by her accusation. "I'm here because I'm family," he says cautiously.

She sighs. "I know." She turns back to her desk and starts rearranging her notes.

"Also because we made plans. Or did we get our wires crossed on that?"

She bites her lip to keep from crying. "Nope."

There's another few moments of silence until Jess gives a long sigh. "Rory, what's really going on?"

What's going on is that she's scared. She's scared she's made all the wrong choices. That she should have never gotten off the bus, not without finding out what was really going on. That she should have told Jess she loves him, back when things could have been different. That she should have said yes and never slept with Dean. That she never should have taken Logan back. That she should have stayed at Truncheon that night.

that she should have that she should have that she should have

But she can't take them back now. Not when her choices have led her to Emmy. And Emmy deserves everything, including the chance to have her father to herself. And despite how wrong the words feel coming out of her mouth, she says them anyways.

"I think maybe we've gotten a little too comfortable with each other."

Jess frowns. "Meaning what?"

She wants to swallow the grief piercing in her throat, douse the fire that's blazing underneath her skin, but she pushes forward anyways. "Meaning the sleepovers, and the breakfasts…" It hurts to think about now, about how right it felt to be in his arms, to wake up to the smell of pancakes and the sound of her daughter's laughter. "I think we should stop."

His face slowly falls. "But you said last week that—"

"I know what I said," she states a little too sharply. "I changed my mind."

"You changed your mind," he repeats, sliding his glance over to the door, where Logan and Emmy had exited moments before.

"Yup."

He's silent for a minute before speaking again. "I don't believe you."

Of course he doesn't. Because he can read her better than anyone. And surely he can read the lie in her red lips, where she's bitten them to steady her nerves. Surely he can hear how furious her heart is pounding, see the flush of her cheeks, how hard she's burning, how hard she's trying to run. Funny how she always blamed that on him, but now she can add it to the list of how they're truly similar.

"Rory," he tries, asking for her to stop and look at him. She can't, and she continues shuffling the papers on the desk, trying to gain some sense of organization in her thoughts. She moves away slightly, and he grabs her hand.

"Rory," he implores quietly, and she can't ignore him this time.

She looks, and she sees it: the wide eyes, the deep inhale he takes to steady himself. I love you is on his tongue, but she can't hear that right now, can't allow him to say those words and break both their hearts again, not when she has to push him away at least for the time being. Her mind's buzzing of memories and regret and his inevitable words, and to make everything stop, she shouts over it.

"I don't want a Luke!"

She freezes before the words catch up and enter into her brain.

The yell echoes off the walls in the room until it dissipates into nothing, leaving the two adults in silence.

He drops her hand.

She's stunned to hear those words escape her mouth. Because they imply a million things.

That she never wanted Luke as a father figure.

That she would trade Luke for her dad in a heartbeat.

That she knows Jess has been filing Logan's shoes.

That she doesn't want him to.

That she doesn't want Jess.

A million things, and they're the complete opposite of what she feels. She immediately tries to backpedal. "I – I didn't – I didn't mean that," she says, wide eyed, trying to swallow away the tears.

Jess is quiet in front of her. His face is blank, and his eyes. She's been used to that mask of his, when indifference is a wall that shuts out vulnerability, but this is different. There's no questions or accusations or anger or sadness or anything in his gaze. He just stares at her, expressionless.

It's unnerving. She grips her fingers tightly to keep them from shaking.

He always said he knew her better than anyone, so he has to know she didn't mean what she said, not the way it sounded. He has to know what he means to her, right?

There's utter silence in the house, and Rory feels fear squeeze tighter inside of her. The urge to speak, to make things right forces her mouth to open, but before she gets a word out, Jess blinks and looks away.

"I get it," he says quietly. There's no tone in his voice.

She can't help the relief she feels flooding her body; it's like standing under a waterfall of cool water. "You do?"

He nods, finds a spot on the floor to focus his eyes on. "You don't want her growing up like we did."

There's a new warmth blooming in her chest despite her urge to cry. He still gets her, still gets her in ways that she can't even put words to. Her eyes burn and she can't stop the tears that slide down her cheeks.

"She deserves to have what we didn't get. And with Logan here now, I have to give it to her."

"I never tried to keep her from Logan." He sounds so small.

"I know," she says earnestly, because she does. "I know you haven't. And I'm not blaming you. I just…" she breaks off, unsure of how to continue. She forces the words out anyways, her voice softer and rougher at the same time.

"Logan feels like he can't have a relationship with her when you're here, not when she looks at you like…"

She can't finish with her voice, but her mind finishes the thought anyways. like you're the brightest star in her universe. Even in his disaffected youth, when he snapped at anyone within a two-foot radius, when he stilted conversations with one word, he still shone brighter than Stars Hollow. She knew that better than anyone when she was 17 and couldn't help the pull of gravity while in his orbit, getting swept up in his gaze, his wit, his mysteriousness. And now that he's shed the attitude and biting snark, the immaturity and self-doubt, he's brighter than he's ever been, even when he's standing silent in front of her.

The truth is in front of her, in her mouth at the back of her throat, (as her wallpaper on her phone), but she can't speak it.

I don't know how to balance the two. How to let her have a relationship with him, when all I want is that with you. And that seems selfish, to have the family with you when he's her father.

She looks away as he speaks up again in a strange, stilted tone.

"What do you want me to do?"

She's glad she can't see his face as she responds. She doesn't think she can handle looking at him as she speaks. "Give us some space," she chokes out as a fresh round of tears fall. "Maybe… maybe not come around for a little while. At least until they've had a chance to really bond."

At first, she hopes he'll fight her, use some kind of verbal resistance to her plea, but there's nothing, nothing but him turning and grabbing his bag from the couch. And maybe because the situation's similar, but all of a sudden, she's back at Yale, in her mostly packed dorm room yelling no, and watching him deflate and walk away.

She looks at his back, so much broader and built than before, and the urge to stop him comes, the way she thinks she should have stopped him back then.

"Jess," she calls.

He looks back at her, and her words die in her throat. Because this look is familiar. She saw it that night at Yale, covered in desperation. She saw it the night of Kyle's party, shrouded in anger. She saw it again the night she came to Truncheon cloaked in self-deprecation. But this is pure. And before today, she would have guessed it to be heartbreak.

It's not heartbreak.

It's defeat.

As if he knows that she hasn't been – and will never be – his.

Her mouth itches to say something, her mind's screaming at her to take back everything she just said, but he walks out, shutting the door softly behind him. And for the first time in her life - not at eighteen when she's talking into a phone at graduation, or nineteen when she's breaking both of their hearts with a single word, or twenty-one when she's adrift and vindictive - she feels like she's really, truly, lost him.

She waits until she hears his car pull out of the driveway before she lets the sobs escape.

From ashes I came

To ashes, I'll return.

But tonight I'm content

To sit here and burn.

~ C.b. Roberts

A/N: Did I mention this is part one? This is part one. Please don't hate me. There is a happy ending, I promise.

Sorry about the length. I even cut scenes out/down and it still ended this large.

Also, Donovan Hugh and Damien Keller are not real authors (at least that I know of), so please don't try checking for books by them cause you probably won't find any.

I'll try to have part two up within the next couple of weeks. Check my profile or Tumblr for updates.

Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review (or favorite/follow) and let me know how you liked it :)