"So, you're definitely coming next week?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes!"

"You know you have to be there for the whole week?"

"Yes."

"And you can't bolt?"

"Rory," Jess said darkly.

"What? You have history," Rory teased.

"You're driving me insane."

"You love it."

"You know I do," he sighed into the receiver.

"I do," she said, brightly. Jess smirked, leaning his elbow on the desk in front of him over a manuscript. "I just don't want to be pushing you into coming."

"You're not," he replied, his voice soft. "You should spend Thanksgiving with your family. Half of them are my family, too. Plus, I want to see Doula."

"And you. I want to spend Thanksgiving with you."

"And you will," he confirmed.

"Have you got a Vallium for Friday night?" Jess laughed once in reply. "I'm not joking! You're going to need drugs to get through it."

"Not my jam," Jess smirked, flipping through to the end of the book in front of him to see how long it was going to take him to finish.

"More of a strawberry guy?"

"Raspberry," he corrected. She laughed. "It'll be fine, Rory. Don't worry."

"I just want it to be a happy week – you being unaware of your cross-examination by my Grandparents would probably help, that's all I'm saying."

"I want to get to know your Grandparents, Ror'. Not forget I ever did."

"Oh, how innocent you are, Mariano."

"You obviously don't know me very well," Jess murmured flirtatiously. Rory's nervous bubble of laughter rang in his ear and he smirked. He loved that. He had always loved that about her – her innocence and purity. He could make her blush with one look, and he loved it. "When do I get to see you this week?" he asked, wanting to make her blush in person.

"Tonight?" she asked.

"Sure," Jess replied. Three weeks in, and they really had barely seen each other – a combination of both of their jobs getting in the way. He'd taken to dropping things – even important things – as soon as she was free, because otherwise they wouldn't see each other at all.

"Come over at seven? I should be home by then."

"I'll bring take out. Find something to watch on Netflix?"

"Bob Ross' Joy of Painting?"

"You better not be mocking, because Bob Ross is amazing," Jess warned in mock-seriousness.

Rory laughed, before saying, "I should go – Collins is glaring. See you tonight, Jess."

"See you," he replied, before clicking his phone off.

Her worry about him bailing out of going to Thanksgiving with her was crazy. But fair, he supposed, considering his track record. He wanted to spend Thanksgiving with her and their families (even though they crossed over more than he'd like to think about). Of course, of course he'd rather it was just him and Rory – it wasn't that he hated other people, he just preferred Rory. But with girls like Rory, their families came with them. Someone told him that a long time ago. He loved her, so he knew that her family came with that. He didn't really mind – so long as he got Rory.

-break-

"Hey," she gasped, her winning smile almost blinding him as she threw her arms around his neck, throwing the door fully open. He kissed her with a chuckle.

"Hey."

"I've missed you."

"Huh," Jess replied, smirking. "Couldn't tell," he said, half-laughing. She lifted her head from his shoulder and rested her forehead on his, bright blue glittering emotionally, and he sobered, still smiling. "You okay?" he murmured.

She nodded, her eyes still bright. "I guess I'm just not used to being this happy," she answered, disparaging herself a little.

Jess wasn't sure what to say to that, so he kissed her, before saying, "I brought food."

"Thai again?"

"Indian. And yes, you owe me big time," Jess smirked, moving them into the apartment, his arms still wrapped around her.

"I think we're pretty nauseating to the outsider, Jess. This is going to kill your street cred'." Her sparkling laughter came and he kissed her again.

"Not unless you tattle," he grinned, moving past her into her apartment. Reaching the kitchen, he placed the bags of food on the counter and started decanting the containers. "We're going to have to buy you another apartment after this abomination, by the way. Start looking up the classifieds." She finally followed him into the kitchen, leaning on the end of the counter, watching him in amusement. She looked tired. "How was work?" he asked.

"Busy. But good. It's CNN, so … always something going on. I just wish I had my own desk."

"Have to start somewhere," he said, sympathetic. "You'll get a desk. You're Rory Gilmore. You're going to kill it. They'll love you."

"I hope so," she said chewing her lip. "Trying to explain my … inconsistencies in history. Well … I think they pretty much feel that they took a risk in hiring me."

"They won't once they get to know you. They've read your stuff. You're nothing if not completely thorough. And brilliant."

Rory sighed, smiling a little. "I just hope they see some sort of potential in me. I feel like this could be somewhere I can actually make a difference. The Freedom Project sounds so promising."

"They will see potential, Ror'. No doubt in my mind. You have such an interesting voice in your writing, such an empathetic view on the world. Like you truly feel people's suffering – that is astoundingly rare in the world, and they'll see that, and you'll do great things." Her eyes were bright again, as if she were about to cry. Jess pressed his lips together, watching her. "What are you thinking about?" he asked gently.

She dropped her eyes from him, smiling tightly, shaking her head fractionally. "Nothing."

"Ror'," he chastised. "Like I can't tell. Spit it out," he said, smiling a bit.

Her eyes rose to him again, watching him for a second, before saying, "I was thinking about Logan and when I dropped out of Yale."

Jess nodded, trying to not let the darkness he felt reach his eyes for fear of her clamming up. He hated that guy. More so, even, than Dean. But he had never heard the full story about that – her leaving Yale and being arrested. Moving in with her Grandparents and not speaking to her Mom for almost six months. He figured it was something to do with Logan, but never really heard what. "Yeah?" he pressed, wanting her to continue.

"The food'll get cold," Rory said, grabbing some containers and two plates before heading through to the living room. Jess grabbed the rest of the food and followed her.

"Why did what I said remind you of that?" Jess asked, sitting down next to her on the couch, taking the box of Balti she offered him.

Rory smiled in a sad way. "If he'd said something like that to me, maybe I wouldn't have dropped out." Jess was confused, and his face surely showed it. "Sorry, we don't have to talk about him."

Jess shrugged. "He's part of your past. So long as it stays that way," he smirked, nudging her a little with his shoulder.

"Don't worry," she laughed.

"I don't know the full story, Rory … I've only heard snippets."

Rory dulled a little, and Jess regretted pressing. "Do you know who Mitchum Huntzberger is?"

"I'm guessing Logan's Dad."

"Yeah, Logan's Dad and newspaper mogul."

"Oh. Right."

"He said I wasn't cut out for journalism. That I didn't have the spark … the drive. That I would make a good assistant."

Jess frowned deeply, disbelief clear on his face. "Sounds like the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. What a jackass. And obviously an idiot. Had he read your stuff? I defy anyone who's read your stuff to say that."

"He read my stuff. He just didn't like it."

"What a jackass."

"He is a jackass. When I told Logan, he said so, too. But he never disagreed with him. He never said that his Dad was wrong. So … I left Yale. I stole a yacht. I spent a night in jail. I got community service. I stopped talking to Mom. Until you came to Hartford and shouted at me." She ended on a smile, soft look on her face. "Have I ever thanked you for that?"

Jess shot her a confused look. "Thanked me for shouting at you?"

She ignored his indignation. "You coming back and asking me what I was doing, why I'd left Yale – it's the reason I went back. Seeing what you had done since you'd left Stars Hollow, your book, your job, your life. I always knew you could make it, but I had always thought that I would too, and I was drifting. I guess seeing you shocked me into thinking about what I was doing. Becoming the dumb blondes that Logan used to date to party and drink with, it wasn't me. And, the same again when it happened again in Baltimore. Huh. I sure drift a lot."

Jess sighed, watching her closely as she gave this some deep thought. Her brow was crinkled and her eyes were bright and worried. He needed to intervene before she delved too deep. "Rory, every time you've drifted, you've been pushed. You can't blame yourself for that – I won't let you. Mitchum Huntzberger didn't know what he was talking about, because look at you, working at CNN, writing beautiful, poignant articles that practically bleed they have so much heart. Stop over-thinking. You are a wonderful journalist."

"I'm only a fact-checker," she half-heartedly argued, blushing rose.

"For now," he amended. "You will be a fantastic journalist. And one day, two kids will be riding round in a blue Dodge Lancer on an ice cream run when they're supposed to be studying, and she'll want to be you, and not Christiane Amanpour. That is a certainty. I just know it."

Rory's eyes were glittering with unshed tears, and she laughed, making a few fall. She placed her food down, wiping her face. "You're so sweet," she told him.

He leant towards her mock-conspiratorially. "Shhh. If that gets out, my term as town Hoodlum is over."

"I love you," she said, ignoring him.

He bit his lip, watching her for a second as she melted into an emotional puddle. She was so damn beautiful. He could not believe he was lucky enough to have a second chance. He was still shocked that she gave him a chance the first time around – this beautiful, pure, intelligent, reflective, empathetic, idealistic woman gave him a chance.

"Oh, I love you, too," he said. She leant over his food and kissed him sweetly, chastely.

"Where are your pom-poms, by the way? I thought that was part of the whole cheerleading deal?" she asked, her eyes glittering in mirth.

Jess smirked. "You borrowed them in that car ride, remember? I never did get them back."

"Must've been something about them that I liked," she laughed. "Maybe it was the neon pink."

"Maybe," he agreed, handing her her food again and settling beside her on the couch, turning on Netflix. He turned to her again, watching her watch the TV, her face bright and happy. He hoped he could always make her look like that. Smiling, too, he rested his shoulder against hers as they watched.

-break-

A/N: I had this written for ages. Forgot to post it – sorry :/. I'm inconsistent at best.