Chapter Text
The smell of homemade Indian food hung like a cloud in the kitchen. Clattering pans accompanied the sound of two raised voices, arguing good-naturedly by the refrigerator.
“We are not lighting the house on fire. It’s a rental.”
“Rory, now is not the time for your morality. Our house is going to smell like Indian food for weeks!”
“You’re the one who decided not to order take-out.”
“Do you know how much MSG is in that stuff?”
“You sound like Luke. Besides, that’s Chinese food. And the place by Beverly’s doesn’t use it.”
“You’re telling me we could’ve ordered Chinese?”
“No. It’s Indian night.”
“Then why did you bring up Chinese?”
“I didn’t-“
There was a knock at the door.
“Paris?” Jess asked, stirring the sauce.
“I’d be willing to bet.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Jess rolled his eyes, but grinned. Despite the fight he appeared to put up, he mostly enjoyed Indian food. And now, attempting to cook it had given him a new appreciation for its complexities. The front door opened in the other room. He could hear Paris’ distinct voice.
“Planning on burning the place down?”
“Ugh. You sound like Jess. Guys this is a rental.” Rory said as they entered the kitchen. As Jess finished cooking, Rory and Paris set the table. It was habitual, nights like these. Jess at the stove, bickering that was more of a sport than anything else, the three of them at the table eating and discussing virtually anything and everything.
It reminded Rory of the first night Paris and Jess had met. Arguing over the Beats’ and Jess’ assertion that Austen would have, in fact, liked them. She never dreamed back then that the three of them would be neighbors.
***
Rory and Jess had found their place first. A few blocks from the bookstore-slash-publishing-house where Jess worked, and only a ten-minute walk to the paper that Rory was an editor at. They had just finished unpacking their last box when Rory heard a familiar voice shouting in the corridor. She and Jess looked at each other.
“It can’t be… can it?”
“No way.”
“That would be-“
“No way.”
They opened their door and peered out, curious if cautious.
“Rory!”
“Paris?”
“Back me up here. These rent for these apartments are 5% more than the average for this quality in this area. It is not unreasonable to expect comparable pricing. Especially when you factor utilities and electrical- have you seen the wiring? Shoddy work probably done by a second cousin. Nepotism. And this is a third-floor walk up! If you’re not going to pay for an elevator to bring this place into the 20th century, nevermind the 21st-“
“Hi, Mr. Anderson.”
“Hello, Rory. Jess.” The pained smile on his face said it all.
“Paris,” Rory began, stepping out of her doorway. “Are you moving in?”
“If this slumlord ever gives me the paperwork.”
“He is not a slumlord. These are very nice apartments, Mr. Anderson. And the electrical is fine. Paris these apartments are historical. Original brickwork. Historical apartments in this condition are impossible to find in Philly. Especially at this price.”
“I still think-“
Jess rolled his eyes. Paris shot him a look and opened her mouth to start in on them when Rory interrupted.
“Mr. Anderson, why don’t you get Ms. Geller’s paperwork, Jess and I will finish showing her around.”
The landlord nodded and booked it downstairs. His memories of that day did not possess the same fondness as Rory’s, and he wondered now if h would be less grey had he never agreed to rent to Paris, even if he couldn’t quite remember how it had happened.
***
“All I’m saying is-“
“All you’re saying is you have questionable taste in movies.”
“C’mon Rory. What A Girl Wants is-“
“An American Classic. Amanda Bynes. England. Rebellion. Estranged Parents.”
“It sounds trite.”
“Paris not you too.”
“See, Paris agrees with me, that must mean something.” There was triumph in Jess’ voice.
“Yeah, it means the world’s coming to an end. Besides, you can’t participate in debates about quality if you haven’t seen the topic of discussion.”
“Since when?”
“House rules.”
“That's ridiculous. You do it all the time.”
"I do not!" Rory said, pouring more wine for the three of them. "And if I did I was definitely right."
***
“Is she asleep?” Jess whispered.
“I think so.” Rory pulled off the blanket draped over the back of the couch and covered up a gently snoring Paris.
“Third time this week,” Jess said as he and Rory got ready for bed.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Only three times?”
“Business trip.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Hey, not that I mind entirely but-“
“Why doesn’t she sleep at her own apartment?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I think she’s lonely.”
“Paris? Lonely?”
"Doyle’s been on assignment for ten months.”
“What’s he doing again?”
“Classified,” Rory shrugged. "Everyone get's lonely. She's only human."
Jess snorted.
"She is! Way more now than she was when we were in high school."
"She was worse?"
"Hey. You two were tag-teaming me tonight, remember?"
"I know, I know. She's not half bad," Jess half smiled.
Rory reached over and turned out the light, pulling the covers over her chest. As she was drifting off, Jess nudged her shoulder.
"Hmmm?" She mumbled.
“Should we invest in a pull-out?”
“What?” Rory murmured. Half-asleep, she snuggled into Jess’ chest.
“For Paris. So she doesn’t have to sleep on the couch we found on the side of the road.”
Rory looked up at him and kissed him gently, smiling. “I think that’s a great idea, Jess.”