"Jess?"

I looked up from my coffee, freezing at the sight of Rory's tear-streaked face. The initial shock wore off in about two seconds, and I almost knocked the chair over getting up. I rushed over to her, putting my arms around her and pulling her close to me as she started crying again. I didn't care if she was once again back together with that jerk Logan – she needed me. Me, not Logan, not Dean, not even her mom. Me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, petting her hair soothingly. I moved down to her back and rubbed it in gentle circles. Rory relaxed under my hand.

"I'm scared and lonely and homesick. I've never been away from home for this long before and I feel so lost." She sobbed. I let her carry on sobbing and moaning about things I already knew from Uncle Luke – her breakup, her job, not being home for two years – and gave the other customers who were staring at us such a hard glare that they became fascinated with the tiles on the floor. "I feel so weak." She laughed bitterly. "I'm a full-grown woman and I miss my mommy." I laughed.

"Well someone had to say it."

"Shut up, Jess." She snapped. I grinned, rocking her back and forth. Rory cried a couple more minutes longer and I managed to sit her down at a table. I sat next to her, holding her so she wouldn't freak out. The waiter came over and I ordered two mochas with extra coffee. Rory leaned on me, her puffy, red eyes closed and a horrible pained expression on her face. All I wanted was to make that go away.

"Here, drink." I said, pushing the coffee mug into her hands. Her eyes half-opened and she shook her head, pushing it away. I frowned. "Rory Gilmore, drink the coffee or I will tell your mother you've become a Communist."

"What does communism have to do with coffee?" Rory asked.

"Everything. Coffee give people ideas – irrational, strange ideas that they can do whatever they want. So communists don't like coffee."

"You're starting to sound like my mom."

"Maybe that's the point."

"I miss my mom."

"Drink the coffee."

"Fine." She took a small sip of the coffee and frowned, nodding. "That's good coffee."

"Why do you think I come here every day?" I asked.

"You come here every day?" She wondered, sniffing. I realized that if I told her about me, she wouldn't start bawling again.

"Yeah before, after and in the middle of work. We have coffee there, but it's just not as good." I said.

"We've trained you well." Rory nodded, getting a cute trying-to-look-condescending look on her face. I almost laughed, but decided against it. Ticking her off would not benefit THE PLAN that I was coming up with.

"You know who also has great coffee?" I asked.

"Who?" Rory was totally oblivious to what I was getting at.

"I think you know. He has a diner in a little town right outside New York City." I said.

"I don't know. Tell me." Wow. Seriously? I thought, sighing.

"Uncle Luke's." I said. "We could go there if you want."

"No, absolutely not! We're just stopping here for the afternoon we leave at seven tonight." Rory exclaimed.

"That gives us six hours to get to Stars Hollow, have some coffee at Luke's, visit your mom and get back." I said.

"The last time I pulled something like that I ended up missing my mom's graduation." Rory argued.

"But this time you won't be riding a very unreliable train, you'll be in my very reliable car." I countered.

"The majority of the time we'll be driving." Rory said.
"So you'll have to spend a few extra hours with me. Poor you." I rolled my eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what's stopping you?" Rory hesitated, and I knew I had her. Time to try something that I hadn't done in a long time. I leaned close to her so our faces were only an inch apart.

"Come on Rory." I whispered. "It'll be fine. Trust me." Rory's eyes darted over my face, inner conflict written all over them. Finally, she sighed, fixing me with a look of Rory Sternness (which is an oxymoron).

"If I miss my bus, so help me I will force you to drive me all the way to the next stop at gunpoint."

"Deal. But how am I supposed to drive and point a gun at you at the same time?" I asked. Rory smacked me gently.

"No, I'll be holding the gun!" She corrected me.

"Are you sure you know how to work it?" I asked.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." She replied. "Come on, we're burning daylight." And with that, she dragged me out of the coffee shop, towing me towards my car (don't ask me how she knew where I parked I have no idea). Our coffee mugs sat on the table, forgotten. They had money to keep them company, and I had Rory by my side for the first time in forever. We were going home.