Coffee was probably a terrible idea, all things considered, but as Rory arrived at the coffee shop a little early, she ordered two ... and then realized she wasn't sure if Maris even liked the same thing anymore. She thought seriously about tossing it for a moment, but realized she was being ridiculous. The only way to make this weird was to act weird about it. Okay, no. It was actively a bizarre situation just to be around Maris again, and then more so to be off on a daytime adventure with her. She kept her attire casual in jeans and a black t-shirt, and a jacket in case it got chilly. Rory wouldn't admit that she'd changed her outfit three times.

There had been so much justification and talking herself into-out of-into texting Maris about the book fair. In her mind, she'd gone through the list of wanting to go, knowing Jess wasn't ever into it (Rory loved old book stores, and Jess would maybe give her ten minutes before complaints began). Rory didn't mind going places alone, and in fact loved her alone time. But then she got to thinking that the fair was something Maris would probably love just as much. They'd spent minimal time together thus far ... a day or so shouldn't be too huge of a test, right? That little time was barely a record of what they used to clock in. Days could stretch into weeks with nary an hour between seeing each other. Whether it was popping into each others' offices or stealing away to some private spot they found to sneak in a little makeout session (like they were the teenagers, god.) -- but that was then, and their separation had been years at this point.

Rory wouldn't be able to pinpoint what it was that actually made her ask Maris along for this excursion, but it didn't matter. She smiled as she finally caught sight of Maris, glad that though her heart still did that little lurch-thing in her chest, it settled into a fairly normal beat as she approached. "I grabbed coffee so we could just hit the road. Unless your tastes have changed entirely."

Spending the day with your ex was usually a bad idea. Spending the day with your engaged ex was a spectacularly bad one, but Maris hadn't exactly had much luck finding company she enjoyed in her new city. Being around Rory wasn't easy but when she invited her to the book fair she was struck by just how much she wanted to be. They were adults, right? Adults who hadn't exactly had the best or even a proper goodbye.This...whatever it was because she didn't have a word for it, would fade with time and they'd go back to being friends. Not that they ever really were. Maris knew she wanted Rory from practically the very start. After a few weeks of small talk and co-worker camaraderie, she'd taken her to bed after trivia and the rest was history.

Maybe that was why this was so awkward. Things felt...strange now that sexual spark was gone because it had always been there. If Maris was honest it was still there on her end, but maybe it was good that Rory was engaged, though in her mind, there was no accounting for taste. With a fiance in the picture, she would be forced to keep any pesky feelings at bay.

The cool weather meant she got to stay in her beloved blazers and slacks for just a little while longer. Today's was a deep red and her pants featured fairly faint pinstripes. Though it was practically a uniform for her, she did spend a little extra time choosing which to wear and inwardly chastised herself for it knowing it wasn't just because she was the sort of person who liked to look polished before they left the house.

"Thank you," she said after a beat because she was just as touched as she was surprised that Rory had remembered her order. Well, maybe not surprising. She had been planning on grabbing a drink for Rory and herself if she arrived first and she was just as sure she knew what her ex wanted.

"Come on," she said, waving for the other woman to follow. "I think I'm double parked."

Maris may have been a bright woman of many accomplishments, but she wasn't a very good driver. Living in the city her entire life meant she never really needed to and the black (because she was nothing if not consistent when it came to her favorite "color" and even her car matched her muted wardrobe) convertible she brought Rory to was the first she'd ever owned. She'd only learned to drive at her father's insistence that it would come in handy and that she might just move out of town one day. She kind of hated that he was right.

Her heels clicked on the pavement in double time as she rushed over to open Rory's door. It was automatic, something she'd grown accustomed to doing while they were dating.

It shouldn't have struck her just so hard how good Maris looked, right? A classic look for the woman if there ever was one, but Rory had always been a fan of Maris' style - well, dressed or undressed, she was a big fan of the woman in general. It was stupid that she felt the need to exhale slowly, but that's exactly what she did. This was going to be fine. No, it was going to be good - for the both of them. If they were going to be in the same city again, it was smart that they learn how to be actual friends. Rory similarly was a bit haunted by the idea that she never knew how to be exactly that with Maris. She remembered vividly from the moment their hands grasped each other in a handshake their first meeting, her first thought was oh no. She was attractive and witty, with a sense of humor that complimented Rory's. Her crush was massive and quick, and had only thanked her lucky everything that she wasn't left in unrequited territory to pine away.

But this would be different because it had to be. She had a commitment to someone else, and it wasn't like Rory to go back on certain promises. Even if part of her mind tried to justify that hadn't she made certain promises to Maris first? No, logic was that anything they wanted for each other, with each other died the moment they broke up. That's probably why a breakup, particularly theirs for Rory, took such a long mourning period. She was past that now, Rory had to tell herself plenty. It took her a long time to move on, and just because Maris was here now, that couldn't change.

"Of course," She agreed with a smile, following her out of the coffee shop and over to the sleek convertible Maris called out as hers. "Look at you with this ride." She laughed a little, but all the more so because it felt like the exact car Maris should have if she were to ever get one. The city never gave Rory much time to drive, but she did enjoy it. The few random road trips she and Maris had taken over their time together were amongst her favorite memories. She probably should have thought about that nostalgia -- that she would remember the intimacy that traveling like this had given them before. But it was just a half hour each way, it shouldn't be a problem.

Then again, nostalgia had a time-travel aspect to it, as Rory smiled when Maris opened her door. Any time she'd done that before, it was just habit to pause at the open door and kiss her, be it a quick one or a more searing sort that would get them home a little bit faster. Rory pursed her lips hard together, ignoring the ramming of her heart in her chest and simply thanked her as she slipped into the passenger seat. They could do this. It was just the pain of change, that's all.

"I'm hoping to find some first edition gems." She said, her own attempt to shift her line of thinking. "I managed to get a first edition Shel Silverstein last year for $20. You just have to hunt a bit."

"Yeah, well, I had a little extra money lying around so..." she trailed off nonchalantly. Her car had been paid for with money from her inheritance, Maris knowing deep down that if her grandfather could see her driving around, he'd be cracking up. Adam had been the one to teach her as a teenager and while he usually had the patience of a saint, even he had gotten frustrated with just how bad Maris was.

Normally Maris would have seized the opportunity to tease Rory for reading some kid's book that didn't meet her (admittedly pretentious) standards, but everyone loved Shel, including her. She beamed when she heard his name, looking over at Rory through the tortoiseshell sunglasses she'd slipped on to drive.

"Did I ever tell you I did a dramatic reading of What If for a contest in elementary school? I didn't win though." Her lips twitched into a smirk. "Knew I should have gone with Sonnet 130."

"So you went for the sexy convertible, a wise choice." Rory didn't actually mean to say that, but in her defense, she probably would have said that to any friend? And besides, she was talking about the car and not the driver. Right. No need to dwell. It was a nice car, and put her own sensible sedan to shame... but at least she hadn't fallen into total stereotype territory with a Subaru. She did have standards after all. "Have you actually had much time to drive around? I'm really wondering about my safety here." She couldn't help the smirk that came with her question, remembering that Maris wasn't exactly the expert where driving was concerned.

After buckling her seatbelt, Rory shook her head at Maris, her body naturally kind of angling towards the other woman in her seat. "No, you never told me that! Shakespeare is always the winner, the ole Bard is tough to beat." She loved poetry in many forms, but steered clear of those that were overly pretentious. She loved Austen and Wolfe, and had refused to read a lick of Twilight. Not that she was above a well written YA novel, but she absolutely refused certain levels of trash. Elitist? Absolutely.

"Are you looking for anything in particular at the fair? They have all sorts of things. I found this one booth last year where they made all of these accessories with the designs of classic novels. I bought a Pride & Prejudice clutch. Because of course I did."

"Of course you did," she echoed, remembering just how much Rory loved Jane Austen. She'd found it endearing even if she'd always written her works off as sentimental dreck, no matter their literary merit. "And I don't know. I guess I'll kind of know it when I see it?"

Everything you wanted was just a click away these days, but Maris had never been fond of that sort of instant gratification. She wanted to find something she didn't know she needed. Something she didn't even know was an option until it was right there in front of her, it was the thrill of the hunt that made shopping trips exciting. Though she was a bit confused as to how this one would work. The last book fair she'd been to was one set up in her middle school library. She'd bought some picture book on the Titanic and rolled her eyes when some girl saw it and struck up a conversation about Leonardo Dicaprio.

"So is it outdoors or..."

Rory would a hundred percent cop to the fact that her love of Austen fell under the 'basic' category of her ilk. And as much as she loved the woman's writing, she loved her story just as much. Now if there had been stories of why Austen had never married and a close female friend or something, that would have just been historical fiction fodder for the ages. Or just really great lesbians chatting over sangria conversation. "That's the best way to go in, I think. Just explore."

The amount of people Rory felt comfortable being an entirely huge book nerd around were few and far between. Maris had never been someone Rory even attempted to hide her love of literature from a) because it would have been pointless anyway and b) because it was something they could genuinely share. If she were to think of it, she would note that one of the things she extremely missed from their relationship was their ability to really have it all. They could go from having a deep conversation ranging anywhere from literature to politics to history and suddenly be ripping each others' clothes off, only to later circle back to sum up their points of view. It was a rare thing, what they had.

"Sort of? They close off main street and put up vendor tents, but a lot of the local shops get involved as well. The street ends with this rec center that is kind of the holy grail of the books that you need to dig through. Those are all the donations from estate sales and such."

Maris' eyes started to itch once they left the suburbs for a more rural landscape. She washed down an allergy pill with disgustingly hot water from a plastic bottle that had been sitting in her cup holder since the week before hating every second, but desperate times called for desperate measures and she wasn't about to let a little pollen cut her book shopping short. Since she figured it would take a while for her medicine to kick in, she suggested they hit up the indoor area first. The dust and faint, musky smell of old things wasn't much better for her sensitive eyes, but it was one she was used to. And missed since they had sold her grandfather's antique shop months before.

After taking a moment to get her bearings, she gave Rory a smile, then flagged down someone to ask if the books had some sort of organization. Her heart sank a little when the older man told her the same thing Rory had. The sale was a free for all and you had to rummage for anything good.

Well, she had wanted to find things she didn't know she was looking for.

"How about you take one end, I'll take the other and we'll flag one another down if we find anything the other would like?" she offered.

Maris scanned the shelves with quick efficiency, so focused on trying to get a look at the title on every spine that she was startled when a petite redhead in a flowy black peasant skirt and a dusting of freckles on her nose tried to get her attention.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, pointing to a white book on the top shelf. "Could you get that? You're much taller than I am."

"Sure," Maris said with a smile, unable to resist taking a peek as she pulled it down. "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath," she read with an approving nod. "I wish I had found this before I had to order a ridiculously expensive reprint in college."

"Do you like Sylvia?"

"Most people like Sylvia," Maris said, her tone implying that much was painfully obvious, though there was some warmth there too. "Her journals are fine, just a bit...wordy. But I guess that's to be expected from a poet, right?"

"Right," the woman beamed before sticking out her hand. "Corin."

Maris beamed right back. "Cool name. Like the Shakespeare character." Her lips twitched. "Or the lead singer from Sleater-Kinney."

Corin laughed. "Kinda proud to be in the company of both? I actually saw them in Calgary last year."

"Jealous! I'm Maris, by the way."

"Equally cool name. Latin, something to do with the sea? You're not a mermaid, are you?"

"Or the Virgin Mary," Maris chimed in, having looked up the origins of her name on more than one occasion like the nerd she was. She smirked. "That one's even more unlikely."

From the moment they parked and the festival was upon them, Rory was like a kid in a candy store ... and they actually had one of those old fashioned vibe candy stores across the street. Her fingers itched to get going, uncover old bindings and worried pages that had aged well. If she had allowed herself to think about it, Rory would have noted that this would have been one of those perfect getaways for their former selves. Maybe staying at a little inn in town, exploring a new town or moving onto a big city. At least they could still share a love of books. Maybe not everything had to have changed terribly?

"Sounds good, don't get lost." She said with a smirk before heading off to one of the fiction stacks. For a while, she got lost in the books, thanking whatever genetics had made her tall so she could grab some off the top shelf without having to look for a step ladder. She'd already gathered a small armful of books before she went in search of where Maris had gone off to, figuring they could compare what they might like.

Ice in her veins would be the best way to describe the feeling that struck her when she saw Maris and the redhead. It wasn't so much that she was just talking, but rather how she smiled. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised her to feel the visceral pull of her heart in her chest. But it did. And she hated it.

Hypocritical behavior was not something Rory would condone, and yet she felt a heat of jealousy rise in her before she could stop it. She had no right whatsoever. She was with someone else. Fuck, she was engaged. She had no right to feel any certain way, much less interrupt.

Yet, there she was, moving down the aisle before she could stop herself. "Not a first edition, but I thought you might like this?" She held out a book that she knew was one of Maris' favorites, because it had been discussed at length early on in their pre-relationship-relationship. Then, because she was Rory and couldn't help herself, she turned a (somewhat guarded) smile to the other woman. "Oh sorry, hello!"

When she was surprised by Rory's approach, Maris tilted her head, looking at Corin in a whole different light. She'd momentarily forgotten where she was and that her ex girlfriend had been the one that brought her there. Maris hadn't quite realized how much she had been enjoying their conversation until Aurora (temporarily, at least) put a stop to it.

Not that she minded, she quickly leaned over to take a look at what Rory was holding. "Rory, this is Corin, Corin this is Rory," she mumbled, talking into the pages of her book as she examined them for wear. It wasn't the most gracious of introductions, but Maris was sucked in, appreciative of the copy of The House on the Strand Rory had brought her, her eyes narrowed in both concentration and an attempt to see without the reading glasses that were stowed away in the bottom of the purse.

It was a sight Corin seemed appreciative of and she seized the chance to strike up a conversation with Maris again after giving Rory a half hearted hello.

"Oh I love Daphne du Maurier. I thought my college roomie and I were going to be best friends after she hung a movie poster of Rebecca in our dorm but..."

"It turned out she had only seen the film?" Maris offered knowingly.

"Worse, hadn't seen the movie or read it, just bought the poster because her name was Rebecca."

Maris laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, I bet she was fun." She turned her attention to Rory. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "I think I actually lost my copy in the move."

Well, this wasn't exactly something Rory had prepared for. Frankly she felt as though she were a random interloper, trying to edge her way into a conversation she wasn't invited to. It was an odd feeling, a slightly painful one that surprised the hell out of her. Why should she care? Shouldn't she be even encouraging Maris to flirt with a marginally attractive redhead? Wouldn't said flirtation even make things easier for the both of them? Probably, and yet she couldn't help the feeling of her stomach sinking and her skin growing warm in what, embarrassment? That sucked.

Corin, odd name she supposed, but maybe that reaction had more to do with the non-greeting she gave her. Back when she and Maris were dating, another person flirting with one of them could give them this fun kind of fuel to ham up their relationship, if only to prove a point. If this were then, Rory probably would have slung her arm around Maris' waist and pressed her nose against her neck. Not that she was thinking of that now, it was just very different.

Still, Rory gave her own little 'Nice to meet you', but averted her eyes to look at the binding of one of the books in her hand. It was only to keep herself looking busy though, like she hadn't already heard the Rebecca story and several others of their youth before each other. Did it sting for absolutely no reason to hear those stories told to someone else? She tried not to confirm that. Logically it made no sense. She was engaged for fuck's sake.

"Oh good," She said quickly once she realized Maris was talking to her again. "I'm going to move over to nonfiction." She said, her smile tight even if she tried not to let it be, before she moved off. Distance would just help clear her head. Otherwise, she was being goddamn ridiculous.... not to mention a hell of a hypocrite.

Corin perked up when she heard Maris was new to the area, eager to ask where she was from and where she had ended up, immediately launching into the story of how she had come to town for a job opportunity the year before. When she offered to show Maris around, she was surprised by how much she wanted to take the other woman up on it, a sure sign she had been starved for companionship since she left home.

And maybe something more. Corin really wasn't Maris' type. She had never really had a thing for redheads and the other woman's laid back, bohemian style was a stark contrast to her own structured one (and demeanor), but there was something about Corin that she liked and the fact that she seemed intent on pursuing her went a long way for Maris. She may have liked being in control but it was nice to be pursued and finding out about Rory's engagement had left her in a funk that was proving hard to shake off for long. It felt nice to be wanted and a bit of fun was probably in order after everything she'd gone through lately. And if it turned out Corin wasn't into women (something Maris doubted given her taste in music and the fact that she'd found more than a few excuses to touch her as their conversation continued) it would be nice to make a friend. The fact that she'd only really been spending time with her engaged ex since moving was more than a little pathetic.

Rory....

She hadn't completely forgotten about Rory, but it was easy to get caught up in the back and forth of flirting and the inevitable exchange of numbers that followed. Corin's phone eventually buzzed in the bottom of her crossbody bag (a swallow print scarf tied to the strap, something Maris normally would have found tacky, but she was willing to overlook it at this point) and she sputtered quick apologies about having to head off to work.

Maris hadn't exactly gotten to know what exactly that was, but she shrugged it off and returned to her search. She wasn't finding much for herself, but once she found a biography on the Brontes, she snatched it off the shelf and went off in search of Rory.

"For you," she said grandly, pressing the book into her hand. "Anne's the best, you've probably never heard of her." It was something she'd said before, a hipster joke from the old days because Anne really was overshadowed by her older sisters. She also really was Maris' favorite.

Rory could tell herself until she was blue in the face that she was being absolutely ridiculous - and she knew that she was. Feeling any sort of way like she had any right to felt weird, but also was something she couldn't quite stop herself from feeling. It was like some sort of internal tantrum, which had no logic or reason whatsoever. That of course, didn't stop her from the lingering agitation that felt like an itch in her veins. So she busied herself with looking at books, willing herself to not glance back over her shoulder, or even more so not to listen for any laughter the two might share. Don't be a hypocrite, you asshole. She reminded herself that again and again, but it didn't do much good.

When Maris arrived back, Rory felt like she was almost bracing for an inevitable blow-off. It would be on her not to make it awkward. But as Maris simply returned to her, she felt awash of relief. These again, were absolutely stupid feelings. She shouldn't care either way. She shouldn't have scrutinized the redhead's features or her posture, even her style or the shoes she wore to the fair. Rory didn't care about fashion or anything else, but felt hyper critical of the interloper. Instead, Rory decided to simply live in the relief of being alone with Maris. Not that it mattered, of course.

"Oh Anne? I don't know, is she like the least attractive Hemsworth? Just sort of clinging to the success of her sisters?" She couldn't help but tease, a wide grin spreading across her face. And hey as far as the hunky Aussies went - she was gay, not blind. "I will take your advice, but a lot is riding on this recommendation." She smiled, taking the book and flipping through the old, worn pages. Rory loved old books; the feel of them, the smell, the weight. The older the better, and this one had some good wear on the pages.

"Do you want to get food or something? I think I'm about maxed out in here."

"I don't understand his show!" Maris blurted out once the eldest Hemsworth was mentioned. "In theory I should like it, but it's just way too complicated." And way too reliant on violence, sexual and otherwise, but she didn't say so, knowing more than a few people had pointed that out about Westworld already. "He just looks...haggard. Too much time in the Australian sun?" she mused aloud playfully.

Maris nodded. She hadn't had much luck on the book front. She'd found the biography for Rory, but wasn't going home with anything of her own save for the book her ex had found her. Running into Corin had been luck of a different kind, but she couldn't help but feel slightly let down by their trip. She didn't know what she had been expecting to find, but deep down there was some small hope she would come across something that would help with her book, an idea that was even more impossible when you considered just how long she had been focused on finding information and only come up with scraps, but Rory becoming part of her life again had sort of proved that it could have a way of surprising you.

"You'll have to choose," she said, a bit of smugness creeping into her voice. Maris hated people who couldn't make up their mind, especially over things like restaurants, innocuous decisions sh thought people should just make because they didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. People who needed other people to make decisions for them were weak, devoid of personality in her mind, which was why they were people she tried to avoid.

She'd actually stopped dinner dates with Kira and Oliver, a couple they were friends with because Kira never seemed to know what she wanted to eat, even when it was her turn to choose the venue. Rory was bound to remember her rants, but she was a fish out of water, especially now that they were in an entirely different town than the one she was (finally) getting used to.

Rory couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles at Maris' outburst. "Oh, yes." She managed to get out, still grinning as she shook her head. She had watched Westworld, and enjoyed it for the most part, but it wasn't one that she deeply invested in. She too had trouble getting into most shows that relied on heavy violence -- especially against women. Game of Thrones might have been her only exception, but even then she was glad to be soon released from the prison of watching the series. "One would think that isn't possible to enjoy too much of Australian sun ... but maybe so. Or just having to spend your life fending off various creatures that want to kill you."

There was some relief that hit her once they were able to just have time alone again. Not that Maris had even spent that long with the other woman, but it still felt too long. Rory wasn't going to even remotely delve into why she would feel that way. It was normal to feel weird when your ex fancied someone else, right? Right. Their crashing into one another again, these years later, had been such a surprise that clearly neither of them were prepared for. It was natural that the two of them should have some growing pains in navigating how to be around each other again. Moments like this, when they could just smile and enjoy each other felt like they hadn't left everything behind.

Maris had thrown down the deciding factor that Rory would be the one deciding. Rory simply narrowed her eyes, a smirk coupled with the look as she nodded. "Alright then." She laughed, memories filtering through her mind of many of the meals they'd shared. One of the most unexpectedly sexy moments from early on being the first time Maris just announced, half dressed, that she'd ordered them delivery and slipped right back into bed with her. It wasn't even a question of what she'd ordered but then, it hadn't mattered.

After paying for the few books (and one for Maris), she put them into a cloth bag and briefly grabbed Maris' wrist to tug her towards the door. But she did realize she'd unintentionally done so, and dropped it in favor of shielding her eyes to look around their location outside. "There's this great little pub around the corner. Amazing drinks, pretty great tapas. Sound good?"

Maris trusted Rory's judgement in restaurants. She usually had a knack for picking good ones and developed a pretty good idea of what Maris liked and didn't like over the years, often having her favorites ready when she came home from a long day. At a certain point in a relationship, texts to ask what your partner wanted from the local pizza or Chinese place just weren't needed. Their order was just as automatic as your own.

The pub was nearly empty when they arrived, the lighting dim despite it being a little past lunch time. Maris selected a corner booth, then her usual Old Fashioned before looking over the menu. The pub's fare didn't seem much different than any other, so she suggested what she usually did whenever she and Rory had gone out to a bar.

"Loaded nachos?" it sounded more like a given than a question, the pair having demolished more than their fair share at trivia. And despite the fact that one order was meant to (and definitely could) feed an entire table, they'd rarely shared with their teammates, their appetizer yet another thing that was just that, theirs.

When the waitress appeared to take their order, reached over to adjust the blinds.

"Can't have you two eating in the dark," she chirped.

But Maris wasn't sure getting a better look at Rory was a blessing or a curse, especially when the sun seemed to hit her engagement ring at an angle that made it impossible to ignore. It sparkled in the afternoon sun, a harsh reminder that this wasn't just another trip to the pub, so much had changed since the last one. The bright glare wasn't the only thing that made it hard to look at, but Maris found herself doing it anyway, so distracted that the waitress had to ask for her order twice.

"Sorry?" she asked, blinking while her voice sounded a million miles away.

Rory liked to consider herself adventurous when it came to culinary experimentation ... to a point. You wouldn't find her eating random raw food or whatever else found itself somehow into fashion. She liked things to be good and filling, to feel as though you were getting your money's worth. Pub food held a certain comfort to her, and maybe had some nostalgia tied to it as well. But not just any sort, because she wasn't a complete glutton where any grease-soaked meal would do. She knew Maris' tastes as well. Or at least she used to, and figured that they might still be the same.

It felt so natural, falling into old habits of moving together through a restaurant, beelining for a quiet booth and settling in for an intimate talk. All with the understanding they'd be on their way home as soon as they were well fed and happily buzzed. Not so today, but it did bring up good memories. Rory took a seat across from Maris, since the alternative would have raised more than a few red flags.

"God, yes." She answered too quickly, eager for a mound of chips and fixings to be plopped in front of them. She almost asked Maris if she remembered the time they yelled at one of their trivia teammates for grabbing a chip that had the most cheese and guacamole on it. He knew better than to dip into their food the next time.

"Oh..." She started, wincing a bit as the blinds let in more light. For her part, her gaze naturally fell upon Maris, sitting just across the table that still felt surreal. She was here, what an odd twist of fate that was. It took her a moment to follow Maris' gaze, and when she did, she noticed the light dancing from the gemstone on her finger. Immediately, her heart gave a little lurch, a palpable feeling of the color draining from her cheeks. She kept forgetting about that piece of jewelry she wore. Not good.

"We'll have the Nachos, please." She spoke quickly, somewhat awkwardly tucking her fingers into a fist and turning it away from the light. Rory fiddled with the ring, conscious of the barrier it placed between them. "I'd also love a pint of your house cider." She made a face at Maris, eyes narrowing a bit. "Don't judge me for my weak ass drink. It's still daylight."

Maris hadn't gotten a good look at Rory's ring before. She couldn't help but wonder where it had come from and when as well as a million other circumstances surrounding it. Where had Jess proposed? What had she said? Had Rory asked her? The idea made the engagement feel even worse to Maris. It was Rory's choice either way of course, but if she initiated it...

The answers to these questions would do more harm than good and they were hardly what she wanted to hear when their current circumstances were so familiar. It would have been easy to believe it was just another weekend outing between them were it not for that ring announcing it's presence and that was a fantasy world was where she wanted to stay for a little while longer.

She held up her hands in false surrender, a silent promise she wouldn't mock Rory's drink as she lifted hers to her lips. She usually liked to savor her whiskey, but her current mood had her fighting the urge to gulp rather than sip.

Their food came quickly and the plate placed between them was piled high with chips and toppings. It was probably no surprised that someone as buttoned up and polished as Maris generally liked to avoid messy food, but even she wasn't immune to the deliciousness that was nachos and she did her best to maintain her dignity as she bit into a particularly cheesey chip. As she reached for another, the salsa and sour cream on top promptly plopped onto the table and when her next did the same, she sighed in frustration.

"I think we need to..." She rose from her seat and slid into Rory's side of the booth instead. Now that both parties didn't need to reach over, messes could be avoided, though after a beat she realized she hadn't been quite so close to her ex since their break up. Rory still smelled the same, though that much was probably true for her as well. Maris still wore a few drops of sandalwood strategically placed behind her ears, though there was something new, the very faint scent of lemon soap, one of her purchases from the fair a few weeks earlier.

"Well, at least we don't need to order lunch now," she joked, nodding to the mountain of food between them.

It was likely a ridiculous notion, Rory feeling as though she should be embarrassed by the ring that sat on her finger. After all, she had said yes in earnest, she had every intention to marry the woman she was currently with. Jess was kind, sweet even if aloof much of the time. Why should she feel a certain way that she might be embarrassed by the coupling, or that she should feel like it was a betrayal to Maris to even wear it? In the deepest corners of her mind, she might admit that much of it had everything to do with one time, for a long time, that was the kind of future she could have seen with Maris. They however, didn't even necessarily need the pomp and circumstance of paperwork and more flowers than anyone should have any right to purchase. But then that was the very nature of what her relationship had been with Maris: calm and intimate, even in the midst of the most intense passion.

But that was a long time ago now, and other things had pressed on for the both of them. Even if they were somehow finding themselves in the same space again, that didn't have to mean old habits, old feelings would go from dormant to active. Rory would remind herself of that fact until she actually believed it.

Rory couldn't help but smirk at that little surrender from Maris, and raised her own glass to her lips for a healthy sip. Once again, she found herself trying not to note how they could pass so much without words between them.

Food was a good distraction. At least, until Maris had taken the initiative to move across the table and sit next to her. Rory would have liked to imagine herself calm, indifferent, not noticing a thing about just how close they were. Not so, her breath sucked in sharply (thankfully she hadn't been mid-chew or this would be a choking hazard), and she remained perfectly still for a few seconds. Their hips brushed against each other, the booth small but not terribly so - just enough to force them into touching distance. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why, when she wanted so much to tell herself she could be her friend, did it feel like every second they spent at arm's length like torture? How she longed to dip her nose against Maris' shoulder, press her lips against her through the fabric of her shirt and inherently know they laid claim to one another, that the smell of her skin and the warmth of their bodies were perfectly suited, matched, belonging to each other.

Oh, she was being dramatic, even in those brief seconds of gaining her composure. "Definitely not." She managed to choke out, clearing her throat a moment later and reaching for the stack of chips and toppings. "I hope the book fair hasn't been terribly disappointing for you. What without going back with a trunk-full of books."

"It's alright," Maris said, waving off Rory's concerns with her free hand. "I don't have much time for reading anyway.." This wasn't entirely true. The book Maris was working on was slow going and if anything, reading another was probably the best sort of distraction. Things were often sorted once you took your mind off them for a while, like finding your keys or a lost sock when you finally stopped looking.

But inspiration wasn't really the problem as far as her biography was concerned. She wanted to finish but simply didn't have what she needed to make those dreams a reality. She'd researched meticulously, reading every scrap of information she could find but it still seemed...lacking and she was nothing if not a perfectionist. Her book would be flawless before she sent it out into the world or she wouldn't publish it at all.

It wasn't as if she had much else eating up her time. Certainly not a wedding that needed planned.

She was still a relative stranger to her new neighborhood, still feeling out it's residents and locations, but admitting that most of her nights were spent scrolling through streaming services to find something to watch with her cat wasn't exactly an option, especially when Rory seemed to be doing so well for herself these days.

"You must be looking forward to summer," she said, remembering their yearly countdown to vacation. Maris had always known her heart really wasn't in teaching, but she was surprised by just how much she didn't miss her former occupation. She was beginning to realize that whether she finished her book or not, she didn't see herself returning to it. Figuring out what came next next would undoubtedly be hard for a woman who liked plans and consistency, but it was a bridge she'd cross when she came to it.

Is that why Rory's engagement was doing such a number on her? It hadn't exactly been what she was expecting, but why? Maris hardly held some sort of claim on her ex. She never even thought she had much say in what Rory did when they were together. They were committed, yes. But as far as she was concerned, her opinion was the only input she could give Aurora, which is why she hadn't begged her to stay when she seemed content in Connecticut.

Rory could marry whoever she wanted and so could she, though Maris knew she would probably never feel the desire to. Unless...

It was a line of thought she should probably avoid, but she couldn't. Which is probably why she only changed directions when she added, "You know to plan..." She nodded toward Rory's hand, almost afraid to say the words because they left such a bitter taste in her mouth.

"That's right, burning through pages a day, no doubt." There was no teasing in her words, just genuine support that of course, Maris wouldn't have the time to dive head first into books if she was busy writing her own. That kind of unwavering belief that Maris of course could do anything she wanted in life apparently didn't go away. She wanted to ask her if she could read it when she was done, but then wondered if that was a kind of inherent trust that they were still rebuilding. Weird, which parts felt natural and which she still felt they were stumbling over.

Maris was right, with the school year winding down, Rory was about to have far more time on her hands. She'd picked up a few duties over the summer for the school, but the day-to-day was about to be blissfully mundane ... or horrifyingly so. The long stretches of time might look luxurious and fun, but she knew she'd get anxious. It was why she loved to travel in the summer, or fill her days with projects. As Maris noted ... she did indeed have a project. One that for whatever reason made it feel like a rock was sitting in the pit of her stomach.

The idea of her wedding should bring nothing but a flurry of joy, a dizzying energy of excitement that she'd spill into without much prompting at all. Brides should be thrusting their engagement ring into peoples' faces until everyone was annoyed with them. It wasn't entirely like Rory to be overly exuberant in an overt way about most things - it did take quite a lot to get her to be a kind of screaming-joy, but a wedding should do it. Rory hadn't said yes under any sort of duress. She hadn't said yes out of obligation or lack of options. She'd said yes because she meant it.

Regret was a funny and gradual thing. And only made stronger by conflict brought on by the woman currently scooping up salsa next to her. Rory had already been having some doubts, but thought they might just be jitters. Little annoyances. Personality conflicts. Habits that irritated. It wasn't like Rory to waffle on a decision, but there were circumstances that eked into her mind.

"Right, yes." She finally said, after a too-long pause. No way to explain that one away. Rory leaned back a little bit, a tightening in her throat making it hard to breathe for a second. She could remind herself until she was blue in the face that she didn't owe Maris anything. Nor did she owe Rory anything. Fuck. "It's weird, isn't it? I mean, we can just say out loud that it's fucking weird." Rory simply felt if she didn't say it out loud, she'd actually burst from it.

"It is," she admitted, lowering her eyes to the mountain of chips in front of her before they met Rory's again. "But I'm also not surprised you're off the market. Why do you think I moved so quickly?"

Though she was teasing to ease a bit of their tension, there was more truth to Maris' words than she'd probably admit. Based on looks alone, Maris had been sure Rory was spoken for the moment she saw her. Once she learned that she was single (and a million other wonderful things about her) she was even more shocked someone hadn't snatched her up already. Women like Rory didn't stay single for long and hesitation almost always lead to disappointment when going after something you wanted.

Their relationship had been something of a whirlwind, but that hardly seemed to matter now. "Is it happening soon?" she asked, inwardly cringing once the question left her mouth. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to know. If Rory and Jess had set a date, it would start a horrible countdown in the back of her mind.

But she could hardly take the question back now so she plastered on an I'm interested face, trying to ignore the fact that it felt more like a grimace.

There was a small smile that graced Rory's lips at Maris' question, memories still somehow so fresh of the ease with which they started after each other. Always a dance to even try and figure out if the person you were interested in liked women, the word yes was breathed and it was off to the races. Rory had never considered herself as someone with a 'type', but if anyone asked her to describe what it might be, undoubtedly the woman she'd describe would be the picture of Maris.

Still, it felt sad, in all the weird-figuring each other out-tension, that they had ended here, and not in some other thousand scenarios she had pictured. Every moment that had them moving closer to each other, developing their relationship and their feelings for one another, felt so natural. She loved where Maris took charge, and loved still where she surged into that role. So many people held relationships - queer or otherwise - in these stereotypical dynamics. Rory didn't like being put into a box, and maybe that's what made them click so well, so fast. They were allowed to be their own women, who just happened to love each other for a time.

"No," She answered, her throat suddenly more dry than she'd like. Taking a long (too-long) sip of her drink, she let it down and pursed her lips together. "Sometime in the new year, probably." The uneasy feeling was sticking around, apparently, with all this talk of her impending wedding. She should be making more decisions, setting dates, going to fittings and tastings. But she told herself that would all happen after work was done for the semester, once summer came.

She wished she could turn to Maris and say she'd love for her to be there, but Aurora knew any wedding where the both of them were attending had only ever gone a certain way in her mind. "I've been very slow with preparations. I'll have to fix that, I suppose." Maris could probably remember just how avid of a planner Rory was, attacking to-do lists and challenges with a joyful zeal. Her hesitation was likely more telling than she would have liked it to be.