AN: Ok, well, this is my answer to Andra-ggfan's "request" that I write something new. And I was going to post it hours ago, but I had a fit over the timeline, which, really, only took a minute to fix when I atually sat own and thought about it. But apparently I needed to yell and scream and have a laughing fit over something, so... that's what I did. Anyway, the title is not what I wanted, but it was all I coul think of. Any suggestions for something better are welcome, aaannd enjoy.

Oh, yeah, not mine.

He pressed a kiss against her temple as he came to kneel beside the couch and she smiled as she slipped her fingers into his hair.

"Happy anniversary," he told her and she looked at him confused.

"It's Mom and Luke's anniversary," Rory corrected. "Ours isn't-"

"This is when we danced. Same date, same time, or have you forgotten?" Jess smirked, getting up and joining her on the couch.

"Oh no, I remember it well, I just wasn't expecting you to bring it up." Rory explained, turning her attention to the two-year-old photo above the fireplace in her apartment.

Originally it was a photo of Lulu, but Kirk had gotten a lot of background in the shot, which after a little editing had been presented by the bride to her daughter.

They'd never done this before, at least, not together, and she couldn't for the life of her think of a time that he would have ever... but he was surprisingly good. Well, it wasn't surprising that he was good, just the level at which he excelled was more than she'd expected. Not that she'd been expecting-

"Dress looks good," Jess cut into her thoughts and Rory realised she'd been wasting time – time that could have been used to enjoy being in Jess' company and arms was wasted thinking- "I meant to tell you that earlier, but there was a lot going on." He added.

"Right, yeah. Thanks." She added after a moment, a little too loudly, remembering he had paid her a compliment.

"So, do you think this one's going to stick?"

Thanks to the heels she wore they were exactly the same height and she had only to turn her gaze forward to meet his eyes, rather than stare off behind him. When she did, just for a second she caught the panic she was certain would be reflected in her own.

Jess was as nervous and uncomfortable in that moment as she was. It was a huge relief.

"I think they've got a pretty good chance of making it," she replied, a smile gracing her lips.

"I hope so."

"How are things with you?" she asked, feeling a weight lifting. She could talk easier now, somehow. "Truncheon?"

He apparently felt better too, they had just enough time to briefly discuss his work before the song ended and they stepped apart a little reluctantly, all the while having forgotten about the room full of people who were most likely staring and neither of them noticing the photo that had been taken, forever freezing the moment.

They didn't have much more to do with one another for the rest of the night, other than posing for pictures – both with the rest of the wedding party and family as well as just the two of them. But when her phone rang a week later and Rory vaguely recognised the area code as somewhere in Philadelphia she felt a little thrill at the thought of Jess calling her.

"You did look very handsome that night." Rory commented now, smiling as she returned to the couch, photo-frame in hand. "I don't know why you don't dress that way more often."

"Because that was a wedding, a special occasion I'm not going to put on a nice jacket and slacks just to go buy milk, now am I?"

"Maybe you should give it a try?" Rory suggested. "Might help you get that cute girl you're after."

"Nah, I'm pretty happy with what I have."

"Good answer."

Putting the photo down on the table, Rory leaned in to Jess and kissed him just before a cow mooed in the kitchen.

"You can't just have a normal kitchen timer, can you?" Jess asked, taking her hand and pulling her up from the couch, leading the way to the other room. "Alarm clocks, napkin holders, you gotta have the weird farm animal ones, right?" Rory shook her head as she hopped up onto the counter, and Jess moved over to the oven to remove the food.

"I'm not weird!"

"I didn't say you were, just your stuff, but not that you mention it..."

"How dare you say such a thing?"

"Because I know you?"

"Well, anyway, where's the fun in having normal stuff?"

"It's not supposed to be fun. It's supposed to tell you when the food is done, that's what they're for, not entertaining you."

"Well, this one does both, so I don't see the problem." Jess didn't reply, just shook his head as he moved to a cupboard and removed a couple of plates before returning to the stove to serve up the food.

When Lorelai handed over the photo – a little hesitantly – she'd suggested, jokingly that Rory could 'put it away in a box somewhere, or burn it. Or maybe take it into work and talk to somebody about front page placement?'

She'd kept it hidden for months, not sure if it was a good idea to mention it to anyone. Especially not Jess. They were talking and trading the occasional email. For a while that was all it was, two friends reconnecting after a lengthy separation, until he said he was going to be in her area and did she want to get a drink?

The first time she invited him up for coffee it took less than five minutes for him to notice.

"Who took this one?" he asked, lifting the simple black frame, studying the looks on their faces – whoever it was had captured a moment when they were breathing easy, feeling more at ease.

"Kirk, if you can believe it." Rory replied, noticing where he stood as she came back into the room, knowing which picture he must have been talking about.

"You're kidding?"

"It wasn't supposed to be of us. It was originally Lulu, but Mom found us in the background there and had us magnified."

"Well that was nice of her." He replaced the picture on the mantle and moved to the couch where Rory sat with two steaming cups of coffee.

They stopped fighting their feelings and pretending they weren't what everyone knew they were not long after that, when he returned to New York more permanently to oversee the new branch of Truncheon Books.

"Do you wanna move in with me?" she asked, smiling at him as he moved around her kitchen with such ease it looked as if he'd been living there longer than she had.

"What?"

"Would you like to live here? With me?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Well, yeah, if you think about it, you're here at least three nights a week anyway, sometimes more, you have a couple of drawers, a spare toothbrush. You know where everything is in here, whereas I'm mostly only familiar with the microwave and the fridge. I even get your cereal. And... I just, I like when you're here. I don't like the mornings when I wake up and you aren't with me. If you were living here, then you'd always be there, and that is definitely something I like the sound of." She explained, drumming her fingers against the countertop as she ran through her reasons, watching Jess as he processed her words. "So?"

"You would have to get rid of those ridiculous Betty Boop cushions on the couch."

"No way! They're so cute and funky. Mom found them on sale it was totally meant to be."

"I'm sorry, but that's a deal breaker for me."

"Well, what about me? Am I allowed to have any conditions for you?"

"I can't imagine what you could come up with. You clearly want me here. You need me if this arrangement," – he gestured between the food and himself – "is anything to go by. What could you have a problem with?"

"Maybe I won't tell you. Maybe I'll just retract my offer and we can forget all about this."

"How about a compromise? We turn the cushions over, and you tell me what it is about me you want to change, or what you want to throw out?"

"You won't agree. There's really no point."

"Just tell me, I could surprise you."

"No see, I've known you long enough to know that you would never throw out a book, so really, there's no sense in us continuing this conversation is there?"

"This is crazy! It's been years, can't you just get over the fact that I like to read Hemingway and move on?"

"No, I don't think so. I can't do that, not after you made me that horrible drink last month."

"What was wrong with it? You like daiquiris."

"Yeah, strawberry or mango but not a Hemingway daiquiri. Who came up with that anyway? It's just so stupid!"

"It's no worse than a Shirley Temple, a Jean Harlow, or a Jimmy Durante. You'll drink anything else named after a celebrity."

"It is actually, coz it's him. And I like those people and their work."

"So this is what it's come to – either I throw out his books or we never live together?"

"Pretty much, yeah,"

"So long then," Jess made no move to leave as Rory watched him and then he opened his mouth to speak again. "How about this-"

"Oh, another compromise? Interesting,"

"You turn the cushions over, I'll never make you that drink again and maybe you can think about marrying me."

Rory stared at Jess, silently for a few moments, mentally repeating his nonchalant proposal before reaching behind her and pulling a cushion out so he could see her turn it over, Boop face down.

"Does that mean...?"

"You just keep that sad attempt at a cocktail away from me and you've got yourself a deal." Jess grinned and crushed his mouth against Rory's. "But you should know that when you're not home, I will display Betty with pride." She added, beaming at him.

"I wouldn't expect anything else." He replied, before kissing her again.

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