Disclaimer: I do not own gilmore girls or any of its characters! I wish I did, but alas, I'm not that lucky.
"Rory! My child! My soul! I must leave you while you are on your deathbed, my guilt is overwhelming! Quench it, please!" Lorelai exclaimed dramatically.
"I heard Gatorade quenches guilt."
"As well as thirst?"
"Of course."
"Good to know."
I watched their exchange, refilling their coffee cups before they could request more.
"Bless you!" Rory smiled, looking up at me through her eyelashes. Sometimes I didn't know if she was flirting, or if she was just naturally that sexy. I smiled back, trying to ignore Lorelai's stare, before walking back to the edge of the counter. I pulled out my book, leaning against the counter to read, counting the seconds before she came over.
"Well, a fabulous inn is waiting for a fabulous woman!" Lorelai sighed, and Rory laughed.
"So, you're going to take the day off and stay with me then? You wouldn't want to go in when this fabulous woman does, it may lower your self esteem," she responded sarcastically, and Lorelai gasped in horror.
"What? Surely you jest!"
"Get out of here," Rory teased, giving her a quick hug, returning to her cup of coffee when Lorelai left.
1…2…
"What are you reading?" her voice chimed clearly, and I lowered my book, smirking.
"The title is on the cover."
"Yes, but it's slightly slanted, therefore in order to read it, I would have to bend over and risk injury. Do you have insurance on patrons? I really don't think you want to risk it, I'm not very graceful."
"Hemingway," I replied, interrupting her babbling.
She gasped, her eyes narrowing into angry slits.
"Blasphemy! The traitor of fiction? How dare you!"
"You want to borrow it, then?"
"Yeah, on my deathbed. With a sign pointing to it, reading 'this book is what killed me'".
"Hyperbole, much?"
"Old Ernest does not deserve to be read."
"Well that's just cruel," I smiled, tucking the book back into my pocket and moving slightly towards where she was sitting, "He tries so hard to gain your acceptance, and you're just so cruel. How do you think that makes him feel?"
She glared, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Buy a better book," she smiled, taking another sip of her coffee, eyeing me over the edge of the cup.
"Drink less coffee."
"Okay, Luke," she teased, and I shut my eyes, wincing.
"Pretend I didn't say that."
"Luke, jr."
"Stop."
"Mrs. Flannel."
"Rory," I warned, and a helpless giggle escaped her perfect pink lips.
"Little Boy Luke."
"Stop!"
She laughed once more, and I stifled a smile, as I usually did in her presence. She made me happier than anyone else I knew. It was ridiculous; no one should be this cheerful. It would ruin my image, I thought with a chuckle.
"So how's the arm?" I asked, looking at her casted arm, which rested on the counter.
"It's okay," she smiled, "Doesn't hurt as badly anymore."
"I like its outfit."
"Yeah, Lane kind of went sticker-crazy. It gives me something fun to look at, though."
"That's always good."
Luke finally emerged from the store room, glaring at me, his baseball cap slightly askew.
"You know, you could've helped me a little."
"But Uncle Luke, I thought I was supposed to take care of the customers!" I replied innocently, and he snorted, shaking his head.
"Rory, being one single person, does not count as the customers. Did you help those two people in the corner?"
"They looked like they were still deciding. I didn't want to interrupt."
"They don't have menus."
"Huh."
Luke grabbed two menus from under the counter, making his way over to them as I smirked.
"You're horrible," Rory said, smiling slightly, and I shrugged.
"Makes the hours go faster."
"I have to go," she sighed, grabbing her bag from where it was tossed on the stool beside her.
"You want me to bring food over tonight?" I asked suddenly, feeling a blush almost come onto my cheeks. I sounded like a girl. What would the guys in New York think of Mariano gone so soft?
"No, I'll be okay," she smiled. I eyed her skeptically, and nodded.
"Alright. Should I bring just burgers then, or some dessert as well?"
"Pie, please," she grinned, pulling her bag over her shoulder and stumbling slightly under the weight of it.
"How many?" I chuckled, and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
"Two."
"Eight?"
"Only five."
"Should I tell Schwarzenegger he has competition?" I asked with a grin, and she glared playfully.
"I really do have to go. Bye, Jess- bring the pie!"
I nodded, smiling slightly as she turned. Okay, I checked out her ass on the way out, swaying so delectably in those jeans she was wearing.
Hey, I'm only human.