The Real Paul Anka:

"I thought we were going to get coffee." I whined to Rory as she dragged me into the Yale Daily News office by the wrist.

"I didn't say where we were going to get coffee." Rory retorted smugly with a smirk as she dropped my wrist and I pouted at her as I followed her into the room. I scowled at the back of her head as she pulled me across the room and I tried to get away from her but she was too strong. I nearly ran into her back when she came to an abrupt stop in front of Paris' desk where she was typing furiously with a look of pure concentration.

"Ow! Rory!"

"Uh, Paris, what's going on here?" she asked as she ignored me and I leaned around her with a confused frown. My gaze landed on a jar full of fruit flies sitting on her desk and I stepped around Rory as my face scrunched up in disgust.

"I just need 10 more minutes. I took a delete-boring-answers pass on my interview with Professor Whittington and ended up with a tidy 16-word piece. His wife must want to suck a tail pipe every night. I'm putting stuff back in now." Paris answered absently without taking her eyes off her computer screen and I leaned my hip against her desk as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I meant with the big jar of disgusting insects." Rory clarified in a disgusted tone of voice.

"Did you finally spawn?" I asked her in a sugary sweet voice and my sister nudged me with her elbow.

"Oh. They're fruit flies. I'm finishing an important paper on population genetics, and I have to monitor how often Drosophila Melanogaster do the nasty." Paris clarified impatiently without looking up from her keyboard and I scrunched my nose up in disgust as I looked at the jar.

"Gross."

"Complain to god, not me."

"Well did you have to bring them into the newsroom?"

"I can't just leave them home. They could escape and infest my apartment."

"Meaning they could escape and infest the newsroom."

"At least no one sleeps in the newsroom, and if they bring food and flies get in the food, they'll learn to follow the 'no food in the newsroom' rule."

"We don't have that rule." I argued in confusion as I shook my head slightly with a frown.

"We should." Paris stated firmly as she flicked her gaze up to me with a glare before turning her attention back to her article.

"Get them out of here." Rory demanded in annoyance as she shook her head at her ex-roommate.

"I need 9 minutes."

"Paris."

"8 1/2. Come on you want the interview, I got to keep typing."

"Okay, 9 minutes."

"Thanks."

"Seriously!? That's all?" I complained as Rory started walking away from Paris' desk and I hurried after her with a frown.

"What do you want to do? Flog her in the town square?" my sister asked me jokingly with a roll of her eyes as she sat down at her own desk. I leaned my hands on the opposite side and pouted at her slightly.

"Yes! Make an example out of her." I whined in a high pitched voice as I stomped my foot and she laughed at me as I struggled not to smile back at her.

"Hey, chief, got a minute?" a familiar voice asked from the doorway to the newsroom and I noticed Rory's expression dimmed immediately as she fumbled for something to do. I turned around to face Logan as he sauntered towards us and I wiggled my fingers in a small wave.

"Um, a minute." Rory mumbled as she stared intently at her computer screen with a blank expression. Normally when I was between Rory and Logan I felt awkward like I was intruding on something but now it felt a cold as Antarctica. It was still awkward.

"I'm a little confused about something." Logan told her in a confused voice, but I could hear the underlying frustration.

"How can I help?"

"I was working on the piece about textbook prices. You assigned it to me a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't gonna earn me my Pulitzer, but I already put a lot of work into it, and I just checked the server and noticed that a piece on the same topic's been written."

"Yes, it has been." Rory agreed with him neutrally as she nodded absently while typing and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from say something inappropriate and making things worse.

"Our wires get crossed?" he asked her sceptically as he looked at her through narrowed eyes and I pushed myself off of the desk with a grimace.

"Nope." She answered shortly as she popped the 'p' and I started backing away from the desk slowly so that I didn't alert them.

"Who wrote it?"

"Christa did."

"What?" Logan asked harshly as he turned around to face me with a disbelieving expression and my lips parted immediately before closing again with a snap.

"Don't look at me! I am not involved in whatever the hell this is. I was just doing my job." I protested profusely as I held my hands up in surrender and he scowled as he turned back to Rory for an explanation.

"Why did you have Christa write it?"

"It's topical. It affects every student. It's an important story I wanted to be sure that it would get done." Rory explained shortly as she looked at him right in the eye.

"It wasn't due for two more days."

"I didn't think you'd meet the deadline."

"Based on what?" he asked her angrily.

"Based on past performance."

"Past performance is no indication of future performance."

"Wise men call that a sucker's maxim." Rory responded quickly without even blinking and I grimaced as I leaned back against the desk behind me. I could see the anger pouring for of Logan as he shook his head. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Logan so pissed about something.

"I did a lot of research on this thing, I interviewed textbook publishers, I interviewed authors. I was gonna get more quotes from students." He insisted as he pointed towards her.

"I know. I gave your research to Christa. She said a lot of it came in handy." She allowed with a small shrug of her shoulders. "The stuff that I could make sense out of. Look, you'll get your by-line, if that's what this is about."

"You know that's not what this is about."

"I thought I was doing you a favour."

"Everyone knew I was assigned that piece, and now they know it's been taken away from me."

"Logan, I'm sorry. It's as you said. Our wires got crossed. It happens. Let's move on." Rory told him pointedly as she stood up from her seat.

"Okay, we'll move on." He relented through gritted teeth as he held his hands up in surrendered and he shook his head to himself as he started to storm out of the room but he paused next to Paris' desk. He picked up the jar of fruit flies and frowned down at them in confusion. "And what's with this?"

"Keep walking, whitey." Paris snapped angrily without looking away from the computer screen.

"You let fruit flies in the newsroom?"

"It's not hurting anybody."

"It's disgusting."

"I just need five more minutes."

"Don't rush, Paris." Rory interjected from her desk and then she turned her attention to her boyfriend with a serious expression on her face. "The fruit flies are not hurting anybody, and Paris is working on something that I'm waiting on. I would prefer it if she weren't interrupted."

"Sorry, Paris." Logan gritted out angrily as he stared at his girlfriend defiantly and I pursed my lips awkwardly as he stalked out of the newsroom. I noticed from my peripheral vision that Rory relaxed back into her seat once he was out of sight and I raised an eyebrow at her in intrigue.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" I asked her curiously as I wandered over to sit down on the edge of her desk.

"What was what?" she asked me with forced confusion as she looked back at her computer screen, avoiding looking in my direction.

"Uh huh, I'll let it go for now. I'll let you play dumb. But know this, Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, you will tell me what's going on between you and Logan." I warned her playfully as I stood up from the edge of the desk and pointed at her with the hand that still held my coffee cup.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!" I sang in a teasing tone of voice as I strolled out of the newsroom with a knowing grin on my lips.

"I have to go." Colin murmured against my lips as he pulled back from the kiss and I shook my head in protest with a pout. His packed duffel bag was sitting by the front door and we had been saying goodbye for the last twenty minutes.

"No. Stay." I grumbled playfully as I gripped his shirt in both hands but he shook his head with a grin. He pressed a series of short kisses on my lips in quick succession and plied my hands off of him as he took a step backwards. I groaned in disappointment as he stepped back out of reach and I watched sadly as he made his way towards the front door. A soft yip came from behind me and Bette Davis came rushing in from the longue room with her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

I picked the puppy up when she tumbled into my ankles and I held her up in front of my face as I imitated a babyish tone of voice, "Please, daddy. Don't leave me here with just mummy. Who knows if I'll be alive when you get back! She's already forgotten to feed me twice this week!"

Colin laughed in amusement as he crossed over to take Bette Davis out of my hands and I pouted at him playfully as he turned his attention to the huge brown eyes of the puppy, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I have faith in your mother. See you soon."

I sighed dramatically with a roll of my eyes and he grinned unrepentantly as he rubbed his hand between Bette Davis's ears in farewell. I continued to pout defiantly as I snuggled the puppy closer to my chest and he leaned over to press a lingering kiss on my lips.

"Have fun." I murmured begrudgingly as I watched him pick up his duffel bag and sling it over his shoulder. He flashed us a smile over his shoulder as he opened the front door and I groaned in frustration at myself. I never wanted to be one of those women that depended on a man or that ceased functioning when they were away from them. But Colin had just left the apartment and I was already starting to miss him. Bette Davis yipped impatiently in my arms as she squirmed restlessly and I placed her on the ground as I told her honestly, "Your grandmother would be horrified."

Bette Davis cocked her to the side thoughtfully as though she understood my words and I ran my finger in between her eyes to her nose as she yipped playfully.

3rd Person POV:

"We need our own bar." A young man in a knitted sweater declared pointedly to his two colleagues. People were wandering around the trio, studying the artwork on display and the other forms of media being presented during the open house.

"You say it like I'm fighting. I'm not fighting you." Jess Mariano exclaimed in amusement with a smirk as he held his hands up in surrender.

"We need a public place where the next De Kooning can run into the next Franz Kline and dis the next Jackson Pollock while the next Charlie Parker shoots up in the corner." Matt continued as though he hadn't spoken, his passion for the project making him deaf and Jess exchanged a look with the last member of their team.

"So a nice family place."

"I'm not kidding. We'll call it 'Cedar Bar Redux.'"

"I would kick my own ass if we called it that."

"Why don't we call it 'Devoid of Original Ideas Poseur Bar'?" Chris interjected in a mocking tone as he raised an eyebrow and Jess laughed in amusement at his colleague's ire.

"Go to hell, both of you." Matt spat with a sigh as he walked away from them without a backwards glance. The two remaining members of the Truncheon team shared an amused look behind his back, their expressions a mix of exasperation, amusement and fondness for their more uptight partner.

"Hey, come back for a hug, man." Jess called out after him with a crooked grin on his lips. He chuckled lowly as Chris patted him on the back heartily before moving on to speak to one of the patrons milling around Truncheon. There was a certain lightness in his chest that he could remember ever feeling before in his life. Never in his life had he felt like he belonged somewhere. Growing up in New York with his mother and her parade of boyfriends hadn't done anything to give a sense of belonging. He came close when he moved in with his Uncle Luke, when he spent time with…her, but he had ruined that like everything else in his life. But Truncheon, and Matt and Chris, had given him the control and authority over his own life. For the first time in his life he was…happy.

"If it's a choice between bar or no bar, I always go bar." A familiar female voice stated from behind him and a slow smile stretched across his lips as he turned around to face the brunette.

"Christa. You made it." he greeted one of his best friends as she gave an excited squeal, drawing unwanted attention from those surrounding them. Her obvious excitement was palpable as she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace and he fought the urge to flinch at the physical affection but hesitantly returned the hug.

"Of course I made it. I'm so proud of you!" she gushed enthusiastically with a grin as she released him and he offered her a half smile of his own as he ducked his head. She squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, knowing how difficult it was for him to accept praise. "I'm serious. When I first met you, you were a punk-ass teenager who, although excellent taste in music, I didn't think would amount to much. I mean, I was some punk-ass teenager too, so what do I know? But look at you! You've written a book, you're basically running a publishing house. All of these people here…they're here for you, Jess. You should be proud. I am."

Jess looked at her blankly for a moment, listening to her words and watching her blue eyes flash with sincerity. His lips quirked in a small smile as he nodded shortly, unable to convey his gratitude with words but she nodded back so he knew she understood. On the outside, Jess and Christa were polar opposites. He grew up in one of the poorest neighbourhoods of New York while she attended prestigious boarding schools her entire life. He barely had a mom and she had two parents who adored her, even if they weren't together. But in so many ways she understood him better than anyone.

Christa suddenly tilted her head to the side with a frown, leaning to the side in order to look around him. "Is that…?"

He frowned in confusion as he turned around to follow her eye line and grinned when he saw that his Uncle Luke had managed to sneak in while he was distracted. He gestured with his head for Christa to follow him and started walking towards the older man.

"So my eyes don't deceive me." Jess greeted the older man fondly as he clapped a hand on his shoulder and Luke nodded in return but continued to scrutinise the painting in front of him.

"First thing's first. What the hell is that?" he asked incredulously as he pointed towards the artwork hanging on the wall.

"It's an abstract painting."

"But what is it supposed to be?"

"Check the title."

"I did. It's called 'untitled.'"

"There you go."

"I give up."

Christa giggled at his exasperated expression and he finally seemed to realise that she was there. He blinked in surprise before looking around the room almost nervously and she frowned in a mixture of amusement and confusion. Jess quirked an eyebrow, obviously noticing his uncles weird behaviour but decided to ignore it for the moment.

"So you got the invite. I guess I didn't think you'd come." Jess said with self-deprecating shrug of his shoulders, his expression completely impassive but internally he was pleased that his uncle and best friend took the time to come to the open house.

"You guessed wrong, nephew." Luke told him with a half smirk as he patted the young man on the shoulder and Jess nodded shortly, unwilling to express his gratitude.

"Cool. So you want the tour?"

"Give me a tour."

Jess offered him a smirk of his own as he gestured for them to follow him and Christa threaded her arm through his as he started leading them around the room. "All right, well, this is where we work, truncheon books. There's usually desks and crap piled up everywhere, but we cleaned up for today. Those are the books that we put out. We publish our Zine once a month, except last august, when my partner forgot to pay the printer. We let local artists hang their stuff up without ripping them off on commissions. We do performances over there, and a few of us live upstairs. That you don't want to see. It's a disaster zone."

"This is yours, right?" Luke asked when the trio wandered past a stand holding a variety of books, including The Subsect and he plucked it off the shelf to read the blurb. "I wanted to get it, but I couldn't find it."

"Yeah, it's not exactly 'the Da Vinci code.'"

"Oh, you shoulder definitely read it, Luke. I buy a copy every time I see it in a store. Sometimes I go looking for obscure bookstores just so I can buy it. I have eight copies." Christa admitted proudly, completely unembarrassed by her confession as she shrugged at their matching incredulous expressions.

"Well, I will definitely get it today." Luke told his nephew with a smile but it soon faded as he caught sight of a familiar figure making her way towards them. He hesitated a moment, casting a nervous glance at Christa before taking a deep breath and adding, "By the way, that is your cousin."

Christa felt her eyes widen in surprise, having heard all about Luke's mysterious daughter from her mother and she spun around in order to follow his gaze. She cooed in awe at the cute curly haired brunette with glasses wearing a sweater that was approaching them apprehensively. From the moment that she had found out about April she had wanted to meet the younger girl. She knew that Rory had been nervous and a little annoyed that the man she looked to as a prominent father figure had a biological daughter, afraid that he wouldn't love her the same. But Christa didn't have that kind of relationship with the man her mom was to marry.

"Right, Liz filled me in on all that, daddy." Jess remarked sarcastically as he glanced towards the young girl with which he apparently shared DNA and Luke nodded in acknowledgement.

"She just calls me Luke. Total brain."

"You confirm paternity?" he quipped sardonically with a mocking frown as he tilted his head to the side and Christa couldn't help giggling in amusement at the deadpan glare Luke sent his way in response.

"Don't be a wiseass." he warned drily, causing Jess to hold up his hands in surrender. Any further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the topic of their discussion and Luke smiled at his daughter warmly as she stopped next to him with a curious expression. "Hey, April. I want you to meet somebody. Meet your cousin Jess. He's my sister's kid."

April regarded the dark haired man curiously, tilting her head back to meet his eyes and found him studying her in return. It was almost overwhelming, meeting all these new family members when all she had ever had was her mom and her uncle, but exciting at the same time. A small smile flicked over her lips as she greeted her apparent cousin, "Hi."

"Hey." he replied shortly in an impassive manner, his arms crossed over his chest and his muscle especially tense in the presence of a stranger. And not just any stranger, but one that was important to Luke.

"Men in this family aren't chatty."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry. The Dane men speak mainly through monosyllabic sentences and grunts, but there actions speak a thousand words." Christa interjected teasingly with a grin as she pinched Jess' cheek and he swatted her hand away with a scowl. She turned back to face the younger girl, who was watching the interaction curiously and she smiled warmly as she stuck out her hand in greeting, "Hi. I'm Christa. My mom is engaged to Luke."

"Oh. Hello." April replied brightly as her eyes lit up with interest at the new information and Luke looked between them nervously. Christa nodded as she forced herself not to bounce on her toes in excitement.

"I've always wanted a little sister! Come with me." she practically demanded with a grin. April gaped in surprise as Christa threaded their arms together and started dragging the girl away. The two men stared after them in bewilderment and heard Christa faintly ask, "So, I heard you're into science?"

"Should I be worried about that?" Luke asked his nephew, half-jokingly and half seriously concerned.

"That Christa is going to be a role model for your impressionable teenage daughter? No." Jess responded sarcastically with a smirk, slowly shaking his head side to side. A grimace spread across the diner owners' face at the prospect of Christa influencing his daughter because he knew that she was the twin more prone to reckless behaviour.

The younger man noticed his uncle's obvious discomfort and felt the need to defend the brunette that had somehow edged her way into becoming one of his closest friends. "Look, Christa has a good head on her shoulders. She's settled down since high school."

"You're right. I just…it feels weird, but I suppose it's a good thing they're getting along." Luke said unsurely as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked across the room to where April was speaking animatedly with her hands while Christa listened intently to what she was saying.

"How are you adjusting to all that?"

"Okay, I guess. I like her, and she just sort of tolerates me."

"Seems like it."

"Thanks for the perspective." Luke grumbled sarcastically with a slight glare at his nephew but Jess merely smirked in amusement.

"That's why I'm here. Hey, come on. I got some sculpture over here you're really gonna hate." he mocked cheerfully as he clapped his uncle on the shoulder and started guiding him towards where the girls were standing together with their heads bent together as they spoke in whispers.

As they got closer he could vaguely make out their words but it seemed to be in that mutated English that only girls and women could understand, most of it spoken with their expression and unsaid words.

Jess watched in amusement as Luke's expression softened in the presence of his daughter and it was incredibly obvious that he was 'dad' and not just a father.