A oneshot about Rory's life and personal thoughts.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Nada. Except my brand new graphing calculator which if you want, you can take it. As long as you promise to do my pre-calc homework too!
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
She loved the shower. It was her time to think. To get away from the busy world with all of it's expectations and distractions.
To get away from the phone calls and mails from work, begging her for permission to write or approve an article. To get away from the constant text messages from Lorelai and Paris asking her opinions on random things.
The only things she didn't desperately want to get away from were the looks of love or smiles over a secret joke from Tristan and the cries of "Mommy!" from her two children.
She didn't need to be away from those things, but it was always nice to. It was always nice to have fifteen minutes or so all to herself. To go over her plans for the day or just random thoughts floating around in her head.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Tristan. He was never far from her mind when she started thinking about life or her day. In fact, he usually came up more than once. He was such an amazing husband. And an even better father.
It always made her smile to think of how the two of them met. Actually, re-met would probably be the more accurate term.
Surprisingly enough, it had been at a party. A socialite party. That Rory was attending. With Logan. Her fiancé. For the time being. Logan had tried to introduce the two, completely oblivious to the fact that they were both starting wide-eyed at each other, mouths hanging open in shock.
They managed to lose him somewhere around the dance floor, sending him off to dance with Juliet, seeing as she was all alone. And they'd danced. The dance seemed to go on forever and yet, it wasn't long enough. Before Logan returned, they'd exchanged phone numbers.
They began meeting and finally, Rory realized her feelings for Tristan were more than just friendly feelings so she broke off the engagement with Logan and asked Tristan out to dinner. She could picture his shocked expression perfectly, even now, five years later.
The two of them were meant to be. The perfect couple. High society and yet so down to earth that if you didn't know who they were, they would seem like the average couple.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
After their marriage, Rory had gotten pregnant almost immediately. It hadn't been on purpose of course. She'd wanted her career to go further into international travel before they had children but after she got pregnant there was no turning back.
Nine months later she'd given birth to Brandon Alexander DuGrey. A mouthful of a name for just a little boy but it was what the couple had chosen.
She could remember his first word. Milk, pronounced more like mawlk. His first steps. Seven of them right across Lorelai's living room before crashing down into the stairs. He'd ended up in the emergency room that night, getting stitches. Seven of them, just like his steps. His first day at school. He hadn't cried when Tristan and Rory dropped him off but when they picked him up because he loved school, his teacher and his friends so much he hadn't wanted to leave.
When Brandon was only 2 Rory gave birth again. This time to a perfect little baby girl, Abigail Lorelai DuGrey. Another mouthful but she carried on Gilmore and Dugrey traditions by taking the name Lorelai and Abigail, Tristan's grandmother's name.
She was two now and adorable. With bright blue eyes, blonde hair and pudgy cheeks she always caught everyone's attention. Rory loved her family to death. Especially her two children.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Family. Something that should be so simple but in all reality, wasn't. There was of course her family. Fairly simple. Lorelai and Luke had finally gotten married, so she had them. She included Christopher and Gigi and even Emily and Richard. But Francine wasn't a part of her life anymore. Even though she'd softened after Straub's death, she still tried to force Rory to be something that she just couldn't be.
Rory's family was complicated enough with Lorelai and Emily's rocky relationship contrasting with Luke and Lorelai's solid, loving, fun-filled one. But Tristan's small family, seemed to cause just as many problems.
His parents were rarely ever around. But when they came to visit, they always seemed to look down on Rory and the children. And even Tristan. Rory always played it off since she didn't like them either. But after a visit, she and Tristan would leave the children with someone and lock themselves in their room so they could laugh at his parent's expressions when Brandon kicked Tristan's father in the shin or cried when Tristan's mother called him Brandon Alexander.
Other than his parent's, Tristan didn't have much family. His grandfather, Janlen, the closest person to Tristan, had passed away two years ago, right after Abi's birth. Tristan had sulked for days, almost going into a deep depression until Rory forced him to see a psychiatrist.
She'd realized her mistake when he came home filled with knowledge and theories about life that she personally considered crazy. He even tried to convince her to go. After about a month, he returned to normal, realizing his new "theories" were insane.
Rory had to laugh whenever she remembered him coming home from therapy, smiling ear to ear, ready to share something new that he'd discovered about himself or life in general.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Life. Jeez. Could it get more complicated? Or more difficult and busy? Or more loving and fun-filled than it already was? Rory didn't think so.
She heard Brandon calling her name from outside the bathroom and sighed with a small smile. She ran her hand over her flat stomach and spoke in a whisper, "You, little one, had better be less trouble than your brother and sister are."
She heard little hands knocking on the door and had to turn off the shower and get out, calling out to Brandon to go downstairs and wait for just a minute. And could he please send daddy up? She had something to tell him about.
While getting dressed Rory traced her fingers over her stomach one last time before Tristan knocked on the door and called her name. She smiled in the mirror, gazing at her stomach.
"Time to tell daddy about you." She whispered and turned the knob.
Things always seemed so perfect after a shower. Still calm and peaceful. And Rory's mind was always filled with her previous thoughts.
Today especially, as she prepared to tell Tristan the news of their third child, Rory let her mind drift back ten minutes early to think about the crazy but loving and unique family this child would be born into and couldn't help but be happy. It was going to be a good day. Then again, that could all change once she left the safe house she'd created in the bathroom.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
A/N: So what did you think? I know it's short but review! Please!
I wanted it to be more about Rory's thoughts than her life. Did I achieve that goal?
Did you like the story and should it be more than a oneshot? Continuation maybe? Drop me a review and let me know! You know how I love to hear from you guys!