I never thought of this as funny / It speaks another world to me.

Be Mine, R.E.M.

November 2016

It's on her birthday.

First off, it's a surprise party. After two weeks held up in the house in Hartford and traveling. They haven't seen each other for that time with him being tied up in Philadelphia and her wanting to make room for her own writing. But she's coming home for her birthday, he even picks her up at the airport, the two of them falling into each other's arms, a promise of things to come. Between kisses she jumps and rambles happily over the upcoming wedding, and he just laughs, her joy seemingly spreading. And then, when they open the door to their apartment; surprise! What was he thinking? She glares at him. He returns the look and gestures defensively.

"Not my idea!" He points to Lane who's running over to give her a hug. Granted, it's not that many people, but enough to fill their apartment, and both Paris' and Lane's kids are there, and Matt's wife, Katey, who could give birth any day.

"You facilitated this." She growls. "Your birthday is a month away and you can consider your days of low-key celebrations a thing of the past."

"Oh, I take full responsibility! Give him a break!" Lane says. "Look what he made you!" She drags her into the living room and gestures to the wall, or rather, what used to be a wall is now covered in wall-fixed shelves, there's even a square arch over the couch. Rory's jaw drops. She turns her head to him, eyebrows raised, he shrugs.

"Luke helped me."

Secondly, there's that. She looks back at the shelves. They go all the way to the ceiling, which, to be honest, isn't that high. But still. There are stools for reaching the top shelves on either side of the couch.

"I unpacked the boxes that've been sitting in the storage, and we still have shelves to fill. Look!" He points to a middle-shelf filled with books in different gift-wraps. "I told people to bring books."

He's enthusiastic. She actually has to hold back tears. This is ridiculous. She smiles broadly, and hugs him.

"Thank you."

"Happy birthday."

She keeps hold of him until she has a hold of herself. Presses her face to his neck, and drags her lips over it while loosening her grip on him. His arms tighten around her for a moment, before he pulls back and strokes her face, thumb grazing her lips.

Thirdly there's the fact that he's in a t-shirt, jeans and blazer. It is his model clothing for casual parties but it's the contrast of not having seen him for two weeks to suddenly being exposed to that.

She does the rounds and enjoys the talks but there it is; right now she'd rather be alone with him. So, she stares across the room like some Austen heroine and locks eyes with him repeatedly. After a while he walks up to her as she's talking to Paris in the hallway.

"Can I cut in?" He asks.

Paris rolls her eyes at him but lets it slide without comment and walks off, presumably to locate her kids. Jess leans against the wall beside her, sticking his hand in behind her back. Turns his head to meet her gaze.

"Hey. You know what the only thing I could think about while mingling and eating canapés was?"

"We don't serve-" She starts, before getting the reference. He smiles at her expression, which might be rather red.

"So anyway," he goes on, "it struck me that I might have made you some sort of deal a while back concerning this kind of situation."

Her smile is wide and she has to keep it from turning into a laugh. She anchors her teeth to her bottom lip.

"Technically I believe the fine print may have intended some form of storage unit, but I think we can manage an upgrade." His hand closes around the door handle behind her back, and she just then realizes that they're right outside the guest room. "Shall we?" He asks, and she nods fervently. Doesn't even check to see if anyone's watching. Finally, there's that.

They duck into the room in a swift motion and he closes the door behind them. There's a lock, but the key is long gone so they use themselves as blockage. She leans on the door and he against her, kissing her neck. She tilts her head back and glances at the room from behind her eyelashes. There's extra furniture shoved in here for the occasion, as well as the coats of a number of guests. And on a bare bannister, where they usually hang jackets and things in need of ironing is her red skirt and the rest of her lucky outfit. She squeals in delight. He turns his head to look.

"Yeah, Luke brought it, apparently it's been in Lorelai's closet since the move. Personally, I don't see what would make it lucky, but, you know, I respect your beliefs."

"It's a birthday miracle!"

"I missed you." He mumbles, more melodically than usual, sort of lost to emotion. Mostly he's stoic to a fault, she looks at his face as he shifts position to kiss her and relishes the rarity.

"I can tell." She laughs, slings a leg around him and arches her back to push the two of them together. He pulls her shirt off her and she peels the jacket from his shoulders and down his arms. He drags hands over her body, raking her neck, shoulders to arms, hips to waist to breasts. Her breaths gains tone.

He's good at this, fucks like a person who's never had a space to claim. Like someone who always lived in close quarters, with nosey caretakers, or loads of roommates. This maneuver has proved too difficult for other lovers, who've been dependent on space, grand gestures and rooms surrounded by other empty rooms. Or who've been very particular about when and where. It's been clumsy, loud, and more often than not ended up just being a joke, rather than what it was meant to be. Jess is quiet, efficient even. But compensates the lack of privacy by other forms of contact. He keeps their faces close together, lets her partake in what goes on with him. Changes in his expressions, breathing rhythm, almost soundless moans. He lets her in.

It's just getting hard staying quiet when there's a pounding on the door.

"Go away!" Jess calls, and she's genuinely impressed that he is able to not only keep his voice even but also commanding.

"What'd I tell you, man," comes Chris' voice through the door, "dead quiet's a sure sign."

"Fuck off, Chris!"

She might have been embarrassed had it been any other time, any other person, any other way. But she's surprised to find she's not. Loud music sneaks through the door as well as voices from conversations carried in the living room. They're good. She laughs, and it's loud, the moment's tension sneaking into it. And he kisses her to silence her, and possibly himself too.

That's it.

•••

November comes and as the wedding approaches she's increasingly crabby. He gets it. It's a big deal, much more than her or her mother lets on. He tries to let everything slide. It'll blow over once Lorelai and Luke are married. Once the proverbial knot is tied, granting everyone involved some unfounded peace of mind. Of course, he only thinks that, can't be helped, it's just the way his mind works.

They're back in Stars Hollow a week in advance to help out, and even though they initially stay above the diner, they soon move to the house since the apartment fills up with decorations at intimidating speed, and Rory can't seem to get out of there early enough in the morning. Unfortunately, that doesn't do her mood any favors, sharing her tiny bed with him, and he guesses, fitting their relationship under her old roof. He tries to help, but seems unable to keep from pissing her off, he even decides his best option is to help Kirk with the decorations just to get out of the house, then that obviously drives him crazy, so he abandons it pretty quickly.

He is Luke's best man, which is extremely low maintenance, as expected.

"No bachelor party! No mud-wrestlers! No pranks! No embarrassing speeches!" Was Luke's firm instructions after delivering the request.

"So just the title then?" Was Jess' comeback.

"And the ring-holding." Luke said.

It does however, thankfully, provide him with some time to run - although running really is a faulty metaphor, more like walking – walk a few errands for the groom. And he is preparing a speech, no way Luke's getting out of that one, but it's not embarrassing, just honest, he thinks. Rory read it and insisted that it was going to make Luke cry.

"No way!" He tried.

"Yeah way, in case you haven't noticed, he's a big old softy, but sure, if you want to make him blubber on his wedding-day, far be it for me to try to stop you." She said. He had to rewrite a few things after that.

It's Saturday morning and he wakes up next to her. She's aligned her body down the length of his, and she rolls it against his as he strokes her arm and puts his lips to the back of her jawline. She reaches back and grabs his hand putting it between her legs. He opens his mouth and kisses the skin of her neck causing her to let out a light whimper. She twists her body, supposedly to kiss him back, but the bed creaks loudly at her relatively modest movement. She freezes, takes his hand from between her thighs and places it on her waist instead, holding it still with hers, and squeezes her eyes shut; Lies on her back for a moment, before opening them, looking both tired and awake at the same time. Then she sits up and reaches for her robe.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not without worry.

She sighs, her back slumps a bit, then she turns to him, expression hesitant. She shrugs.

"I don't know. This room, this bed, you and me… It makes me a little sad s'all, couldn't tell you why, though."

"No need." He understands. At least he thinks so. Missed opportunities and all that stuff. He shoots her a little smile, tries to make it comforting. He reaches out and brushes his fingers down her arm again. She mirrors the smile, but it doesn't really reach the eyes. She's generally much more susceptible to stuff like this, he's been blocking it out best he can for years, has to turn off his defenses actively to experience it. In a way he thinks it's good that she can't. Then she gets up, and walks out the room. He joins her a little while later.

The four of them are having coffee around the kitchen table. Well, he and Rory is, Lorelai's pacing with a funny bounce to her walk that's supposed to help her fit in the wedding dress, but probably only works wonders with her psyche, which is more than you can say for the people witnessing it. He'd make fun of her if he thought he could get away with it, which would be the case under normal circumstances, however, these are not those. He gets up and stands next to Luke, who's cooking too much breakfast.

"What's on the agenda for today?" He asks and glances at the frying pan. "Besides making your weight in scrambled eggs?"

"Oh, come on, that's not-" Luke manages before looking at what he's doing. He turns around and stares accusingly at the Gilmores. "I thought you said you wanted eggs!"

Rory throws up her hands defensively.

"I'm not eating anything today." Lorelai says while bouncing. "Besides Rocky Road."

"I'd take some off your hands, but unfortunately I don't have the time." Rory says, and gets up. "I'm off."

"Why do I bother?" Luke asks the ceiling.

"Where to?" Jess asks Rory.

"Hartford." She sighs. "I have like a thousand errands, I told you."

She didn't. But there's no way he's objecting.

"Right."

"You want a list?"

"I'm good." He says, aiming at a disarming tone.

"See you later." She walks out the kitchen door. He takes the last gulp of his coffee and goes after her, against his better judgement.

"Rory." He says as he walks onto the porch. She stops. He takes her hand. She reluctantly turns to him, and he locks eye with her. For a second she looks as if she's about to snap at him again, but seems to decide against it.

"I got a lot on my plate today. Okay?"

"Okay." He strokes his other hand over her cheek and she shoots him a small, albeit tense smile.

"Bye." She walks off the porch and gets in her car.

He decides she needs some time with just her mother, as far as that's possible, and makes plans to crash at Liz' the night before the wedding. He ducks out of the house, which seems to get crazier in Rory's absence, shortly after. Goes over to Liz to book the futon. He ends up taking Doula for a few hours. They go for donuts, and he spends some time reading on a bench by the Gazebo, helping Kirk occasionally, while Doula plays with Petal. After dropping his sister off he heads back to the house where he gets to approve Luke's outfit before Rory gets back.

Something's different now. An electric sort of energy, crackling about her. Her eyes alive but distant, like an inner conversation rambles in her head. Her motions as she unpacks her bags varies between efficiency and hesitance. He tries not to stare to hard in his attempts to figure her out. After a while she stops, and turns to him.

"You're never gonna guess who I met at Doose's!"

Her pause after drags on, and he smiles, amused.

"That's right." He says. "I won't. So, you're gonna have to tell me."

"Dean."

His shin drops.

"Oh, wow. I'm having the weirdest flashbacks. There's jealousy, and red, hot fury and some very embarrassing posturing."

She smirks, looks a tad more entertained than she should be.

"So, what was that like?" He asks.

"It was great!" She goes cheerily.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We were civil. We talked about our lives, nobody was bitter, we even managed some nostalgia-"

"Ugh."

"Don't do that!" She stomps her foot and he smiles. "You're friendly with your exes."

"First of all; there's just the one, secondly; friendly, not nostalgic."

"Hey, if it wasn't for nostalgia we wouldn't be here."

"That wasn't nostalgia!" He objects.

"Then what's your problem?" She sticks out her shin. "It was nice. The kind of nice you and I couldn't have mustered in the same situation since we'd still be into each other." She steps up to him with warmth in her eyes. "Be happy for me."

"Fine. I am." He sighs, then he speaks again, trying to make the question breezy, not sure he's succeeding. "Did you tell him about me?"

She rolls her eyes.

"He knows. It's first thing he was told when he set foot here last fall. He told me to give you his worst."

"Really?"

"Stop smiling."

She seems more stable, and in a significantly better mood after running into her ex, interestingly. And it makes him breathe easier too, knowing that he didn't seem to come out looking like the weaker man from her unavoidable comparison. He still decides to implement his plan. Pulls her aside.

"I'll get out of your hair. I'll sleep at Liz', leave you and Lorelai to it."

At first, she looks puzzled, then she smiles at him, warmly, broadly. Leans in and kisses him. Relief is sudden and surprising, making him think that his threshold for stress is really high.

"I'll be here early tomorrow, though." He goes.

"Okay." She nods, her expression turning mischievous. "Just one little piece of business first." She pulls him into her room and closes the door. Twirls them around and walks him backwards until the backs of his legs bends against the edge of the bed causing him to sit down. She straddles him, putting her mouth to his.

"You're giving me whiplash here." He breathes between kisses. Her lips tighten in a smile.

"Well, there comes a time when you gotta start filling your rooms with what you want in them, right?"

"Right." He pronounces the word slowly while processing hers. She cocks her head to the side and lets her gaze trail the ceiling.

"It's just; running into Dean... His wife is having their fourth baby, and Logan's getting married, it was on a frickin' placard for the Enquirer, and I'm sorry to bring up the exes, and I don't think they're better off-"

"They're missing out if you ask me." He mumbles through a crocked smile, eyes steadily on her face.

She laughs, and actually looks really happy.

"You and your words..." She shakes her head before going on. "My point was that: I think I've been waiting for credits to roll. And I have to remind myself that that doesn't happen. It just goes on and on. And sometimes that makes me a little impatient. Partly because I'm comfortable with you, and I just, wasn't raised to handle that. And I know it doesn't sound very romantic, but the thing is; I don't think I've ever felt that, with any guy. So, to me, it is. And it just struck me, that maybe that's my happy ending... without it ending."

She kisses him again, then pulls back.

"And I should stop waiting, I should just... go do."

Another kiss.

"But I can't right now, 'cause I'm very busy today."

He laughs. Lifts her off him and gets up.

"You can start tomorrow."

They both pause, then speak at the same time:

"Or the day after that."

They smile at each other and he pecks her forehead, then:

"See you later."

•••

She wakes up by her mother who's shaking her gently.

"Hey kid, wake up."

"What's going on?"

"We decided we simply didn't have it in us to wait another-" Lorelai glances at her watch-less wrist, "zero point sixth of a day before getting married, after all, that's fifteen hours, 900 minutes, but here's the real monstrosity: 54000 seconds. That is just a too vast time and or space continuum for us to tread!"

"So..." Rory shakes her head. "Now?"

"Asap. Chop-chop!"

"Your incoherent word is my command." She stands up, somewhat unsteadily. "What do you need me to do?"

"Super-easy. I just need you to peel your beau off of his mother's couch without waking her or anyone else in that house. We're keeping this version really minimalistic."

"This version?"

"We're obviously still getting married tomorrow."

"I'm gonna stop thinking and start doing now."

"Hurry. See you crazy kids at the Gazebo."

"I'd be careful who I call crazy right about now."

She half-jogs to Liz' house. It's distinctly smaller than her mother's, garden unattended, and with a number of sheds of varying quality, the result of TJ's efforts to house an ever-growing mass of crap. The entire place actually looks like something a crazy inventor might have built – wires climbing the walls like vines, the gutters led off to a number of malfunctioning watering systems. TJ has the creativity, unfortunately he lacks a shred of practical skill. She smiles to herself when thinking of how he drives Luke nuts with his constant stream of outlandish projects.

She bends over at the driveway, picking up a few pieces of gravel. Liz keeps her futon in the upstairs hallway, which luckily has a window in it. She takes solid footing, aims and tosses the first rock. It hits the window with a little tap. She waits for a few beats and tosses the second one. Then a third one. She's about to send the fourth one flying when Jess opens the window.

"Hey there, Romeo," He yawns. "What's going on?"

"Won't you come on down, Juliet," she responds. "I'll tell you, but be quiet."

He appears moments later in the door. Puts on his shoes and walks out on the grass, while sliding into his jacket. Reaches her, puts his arm around her and kisses her, lips tight from smiling.

"Rory Gilmore tossing pebbles at my window in the middle of the night. You mind telling me what's happening?"

She smiles hazily, allowing her heart to dance around her chest for a few seconds more. The way it does when they're this close, but she's on a mission, has a gap to close. So, she opens her mouth to tell him.

"I'm pregnant."

His face drops, and she feels the shock herself because she wasn't going to tell him now, she was going to wait. It's so rare to see him unguarded like this, even after more than a year together. He keeps it together, mostly. But she's hardly surprised; If there ever was a time for bewilderment, this would be it.

"What do you wanna do?" The question seems rushed, like he has to get it out right away.

She doesn't have a verbal response, or even an intellectual. She found out today, and hasn't had time to think about it; In her reeling head she's still asking how it happened. Yet she just knows. She chews on her lower lip and looks at him. She can't decipher him. But his visible breaths give away the magnitude of his feelings. She's suddenly terrified herself, and it must show, because he, like always, steps up when she's scared. He nods.

"Rory-" he starts, can't finish. Then he smiles. It's a weird smile, in no way simple, but it is his real one. He steps close to her, putting their heads together. Sighs shakily.

"Okay." He says.

She realizes she hasn't taken a breath for a while, does, and it alleviates some of her dread. The relief is tangible.

"And mom and Luke decided to get married right now, so, we have to go." She breathes helplessly.

His body trembles in a short, quiet, and possibly desperate laugh and he shakes his head.

"Okay." He says again.

•••

He's (almost) thirty-two and has to start trusting himself. He's thirty-two and gets to be a father.

•••

It's almost light out. Lorelai is sitting on the stairs of the Gazebo, leaning on Luke's shoulder. Rory and Jess are at the far end of the building, locked in a slow sway. The others have gone home by now.

"I'm cold and tired." Lorelai yawns.

"That's because it's way past your bedtime," Luke responds and pats her on the head.

"Well, it won't do." She says firmly.

"No, you're right, we should get to bed."

Lorelai lifts her head from Luke's shoulder and stares at him in faux shock.

"But it's our wedding day! How could you possibly want this day to end!"

"Funny. I was just thinking how I'd like it to begin." He retorts.

"I need coffee."

"You need sleep."

"Please Luke. Please-please-please-please!"

He actually laughs, a sure sign that he's in a good mood. Possibly, probably, even happy.

"Alright, crazy lady. Because it is your wedding day I will let you have your wish, no matter how insane it is. Coffee. But then bed! It's my wedding day too."

Rory and Jess have been in their embrace masquerading as a dance for a while, lost track of time, faces close together, hidden from the others. They've looked at each other, and away, and kept their eyes shut. Been silent, like only two people contemplating the exact same thing can be, this close together. Different expressions have snuck across their faces, some of which they've never seen the likes of before. Now he looks at her, his face somewhat pale, aware.

"It just struck me that this is exactly the kind of trouble I wasn't supposed to get you into."

She falls into laughter.

"I'm glad you find this amusing." He says, possibly, probably, amused himself. "Could you do me a favor and let me know when you're telling your mom, so I can be very busy elsewhere at the time?"

"Jess!" Luke calls from the diner. "Come and help me out."

"Be right there." Jess responds, then looks back at her.

She stifles her laughter, locks eyes with him and lets the remaining smile turn into warmth in her voice as she speaks.

"It's not trouble." She thinks about it for a beat. "It is what it is. But it is, and that's the thing." She's sure. "It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be real."

He sighs, with a small smile on his lips.

"I can work with that." He kisses her before running after his uncle. She goes to sit down next to her mother.