Disclaimer
All recognizable Gilmore Girls characters belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and the WB. I use these characters & their story without permission, but am not making any profit from the copyrighted characters. No infringement is intended.

Of Beavers and Black Underwear

"No, really, I mean it. They took the whole thing and just shoved it into—"
"--this is disgusting, Lorelai," her mother glared at her.
Looking down, she shrunk back a little, mumbling, "It was on the news."
Emily's eyebrows rose up to her hairline, "That doesn't make it any less disgusting."
"But—"
"--Lorelai!"
Her mouth still open, she shut it without making another sound, perplexed by the look the other woman shot her and grumbled, concentrating on cutting the lamb in front of her.
Friday Night Dinners without Rory were a lot harder. It had gone well for a couple of weeks, though, and she was proud of that.

They stayed quiet for a while, the soft music in the background and the clattering of their silverware against the plates the only sounds as they kept on eating their meal.
"The Beadmans invited us to their housewarming next Tuesday."
"Not half as interesting as the beaver incident," Lorelai muttered under her breath, earning another side glance from her mother.
Richard furrowed his brow, "Didn't the Beadmans buy another house in East Hampton?"
"No, dear, the Sudburys bought a house in East Hampton. The Beadmans are moving to Suffield," his wife answered and took another bite of carrot.
"Ah yes, Norman Beadman. Now I remember. Terrible person."
Emily rested her wrists against the table, giving him a look that spoke volumes. "Richard, we are going to this housewarming and you will be nice to him. Eleanore is a dear friend of mine."
"Eleanore might be a friend, but Norman surely isn't." Looking towards his daughter, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "The guy has an ego the size of Alaska and the rest of him doesn't live up to it."
"Richard!?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders, his voice holding an almost defending tone, "I'm just stating the fact. This guy thinks with his crotch, everybody knows that."
Lorelai's eyes widened and she had to suppress a giggle. Starring at the center piece, she eagerly waited for her mother's response and was not disappointed.
"This is no topic for the dinner table, as a matter of fact, this is no topic at all."
"If you had seen the looks he gives you, you would think differently." Cutting the meat more forcefully than necessary, Richard didn't look up as he spoke.
Eying her husband, Emily cocked her head to the side, "Oh, now, that's just silly."
His eyes met hers. "Last time we met them, he virtually undressed you with his eyes."

This was getting better by the minute. Lorelai kept quiet as she watched her mother's jaw drop. She smiled to herself while the other woman seemed to be trying to find the right words.
"He did none such thing." Her voice sounded annoyed and unbelieving. "He merely complimented me on the dress I was wearing." Pointing the tip of her knife in his direction she added, "Which, by the way, was a very courteous thing to do."
Richard hid his smile behind his wine glass, "Don't try to change the subject, dear."
"I am not trying to change the subject," his wife glared at him. "When did I ever change the subject when we were discussing something?"
She didn't know she was playing right into his hands. How he loved knowing her through and through. "Well, last night when I asked you to..."
"Whoah!" Their daughter raised her hands, looking from one to the other. She pointed her index fingers towards her face, "Hey folks; offspring around!!"
Ignoring her daughter's comment, Emily countered, "I did not change the subject."
Richard raised his eyebrows, his gaze challenging, "You most certainly did."
He suppressed a grin as he watched his wife furrowing her brow. She dropped her gaze to her plate, concentrating on her meal again as she answered. "I did not change it... I altered it."
"Altering is changing, dear," Richard teased, his wine glass still in his hand, his elbows resting on the table as he leaned forward a little.
Rolling her eyes, Emily sighed, "Richard, please. Could you just—"
"--What? Change the subject?" He grinned at her like the Cheshire Cat.
Glaring at him, she countered, "No, drop it. Lorelai is not comfortable with it."
Feeling their attention centering on her, Lorelai shrugged her shoulders, grinning, "Oh no, I'm good. Just keep any sharp objects away from me for a while," she immediately added to make herself feel less awkward.

The silence that followed was short but unbearable.
"So, Mom, what kind of underwear are you going to wear to that housewarming?" Lorelai couldn't let go of the images in her head. She didn't have to turn her head to feel her mother's eyes on her.
"Lorelai," Emily scolded, trying to keep the trace of amusement she felt out of her voice. Maybe she should have just told her, that might have at least shut her up.
"What? If that guy is going to undress you with his eyes, you should at least wear something pretty." Lorelai grinned and took another bite of lamb.
"Lorelai, really."
Hearing her husband scold their daughter, Emily raised first her head and then one eyebrow, "Well, you started it."
"I just said that—"
"--I think I'll wear something black." She cut him off, taking delight in his shocked expression before she turned to her daughter, "What do you think?"
When the initial shock of her mother's answer had worn off, Lorelai tried to quickly decide which path to choose. The sparkle in the other woman's eyes made up her mind for her. "Black sounds good. But if you really want to pull it off, don't wear a bra," she played along.
Both women couldn't hide their grins any longer.
Taking her wine glass, Emily finally looked away, "Well, I might consider that."
She gazed at her husband and quickly brought the glass to her lips to keep herself from laughing out loud at his expression.

Looking from one parent to the other, Lorelai smiled. Maybe Friday Night Dinners without Rory weren't that bad after all.

Author's Note: Review and I might be tempted to post a new story here -- don't review and ffDOTnet will soon see nothing more than my beautiful backside. What? I'm a feedback wh--- ... nah, no naughty words here. But you can guess what that's supposed to read.
On a happier note: Thanks to Sweetie Elizabeth for betaing this again and thanks to oldfashionedgrl for helping me getting rid of a 'well' that kept bugging me. You might not be the Watson to my Sherlock, but you surely are my Wellson ;o)