Ever-Fixed Mark

Dusk. Crickets. Porch. Lorelai and Luke's. Why does it only smell this way at twilight?

"No, really, Jess…how come you never got married?" she asked, slipping into the easy, casual friendship/family kind of chat they'd managed to get comfortable with over the years. Golden light from the doorway reflected in his eyes, contradicting the evening azure. Over her shoulder, Jess saw Lorelai through the screen door, dessert plates in hand, halt suddenly and retreat - expression clearly not gonna touch that conversation with a ten-foot pole! His lips twitched at this, and his eyes darted to the ground, and then back to Rory's inquiry. He shrugged.

"Couldn't subject a woman to that," he said, his characteristic smoky drawl laced with less pronounced sarcasm than he'd sported in years gone by. Rory grimaced lightly, holding out her hands in a gesture of what's that supposed to mean? He returned the frown - more of a don't give me that! scowl. "Come on…having to put up with me, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week…year after year…a lifetime! I'm just not that sadistic." She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him, prompting the easy, soft smile that let Rory know that somewhere along the line, Jess had finally made peace with himself. In a moment, he pulled a squint-one-eye-and-shrug - Did anyone but Jess do that? - and half-contradicted his previous statement. "Came close a couple times, actually got engaged once." The last part was said leaning forward in a conspiratorial whisper, which indicated that this was a rare piece of information even Luke may not have been privy to.

"Really? What happened?" Curiosity colored her tone, and his eyes dropped away from hers a fraction of an inch, hoping that even this wouldn't let her read him as well as she sometimes could. He knew he couldn't let her look in his eyes. Occasionally, that was still dangerous…could reveal things best kept hidden. His lower lip protruded slightly, and he shook his head dismissively.

"Just didn't work out." Didn't work out because she'd known him just as well as Rory ever had, and wasn't quite so blind. She read the words on his page, and knew things about him that he even hid from himself. She couldn't live with ghosts. He didn't expect her to. Couldn't subject a woman to that.

"Just as vague and cryptic as ever." She shook her head again, as if to say, utterly hopeless.

"Part of my charm," he intoned, half of his mouth twisting upward in his disarming cocky half-grin that belied itself with self deprecating words. "If I wasn't mysterious, people would realize how boring I was. Literary poison." She laughed. His smile softened. The gentle look of worry and relief in his eyes would have stopped her laughter if she'd seen it. But twilight disguised it in a dim haze. Her laughter was beautiful. Reassuring. Maybe she was okay.