Author's Note: There may seem to be inconsistencies between this and Lost Causes. This was an earlier piece, but I think it still works within my Jessica canon. I may elaborate on this in other drabbles. Not sure yet.

Oh, yeah, and I don't own Jessica or Roger or any of the Who Framed Roger Rabbit? stuff. (The rest, though...)

There was a dark abyss in the Rabbit's memories prior to meeting her husband. Everything blurred together into a haze of bars, songs, smoke, and men - too many of them, none cartoons. She didn't like to think back that far or of who she used to be.

Roger, though - she remembered him the way a starving man tasted meat in the back of his throat. One could call the white rabbit her white knight, but he was more than that. Much more.

Knights rode in on horseback to save distressed damsels. They found the tallest tower in the deepest forest and, using the ivy growing up its sides, climbed inside. They woke the princess with a kiss - not because they knew anything about her but because by golly she was just so beautiful it didn't matter that she was sleeping or dead they were going to get that kiss. Cartoons expanded on that a bit more so that the prince at least knew the princess beforehand - perhaps he loved her, perhaps he didn't. But the kiss - that was what mattered.

But Roger hadn't needed to kiss her to bring her out of her pit. In fact, he didn't kiss her at all before their marriage day - and he only did then because she initiated it. No, Roger brought her back to life in the simplest of ways - with laughter.

It was a simple knock knock joke.

Jessica sat at a round mahogany table, one elbow resting on its dented surface, on the first of what she supposed should be called dates. The rabbit hadn't pestered her like so many of the other men; he'd simply run up to her and started talking as though they were best of friends, even though they'd only worked together in that one toon. Sure, she'd laughed, but she'd never expected to see him again.

But Roger sought her out.

He carried over two drinks - iced tea for her and carrot juice for himself - and, as she sipped at her tea, ignoring the glances and looks and lust coming at her from every other angle, he said, "Knock knock."

"Roger, I'm not much for jokes."

He just stared at her, that goofy grin on his face, floppy ears sticking straight up as though he'd just pulled his finger out of an electrical socket (he'd done that earlier, but he promised it hadn't hurt). "Okay."

The rest of the night was simple. They'd talked. He walked her home, and there was no expectation of anything more than that. It was only when she stood in front of her door that she'd said, with an exasperated sigh, "So…what was the joke?"

Roger's eyes lit up in the way they did every time he was in his element. "Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Etch!" He laughed a little, his mouth turned up in the bright smile she rarely saw off his face.

She puzzled over the joke for a moment but couldn't figure out where it was going. "…etch who?"

"God bless you!"

At first, Jessica was surprised. The joke was neither crude or obscene - just a childish attempt at…what, exactly? Then she shook her head, laughing. Her, blessed? Or maybe…maybe this would begin all of that.

She smiled. "God bless you, too, Roger. God bless you, too."

It wasn't until later that she noticed his joke, as opposed to a vast amount of other knock-knock jokes, was focused on her and not on himself or his attempts to open the door or why she should open to him. That joke was a small thing, but it said everything about Roger and her relationship with him. He made her laugh. It was that simple.