This is my very first Gilmore Girls fan fiction! Yay! It's a response to an Our Little Corner challenge, which was to write a JavaJunkie story based on the quote, "To the world, you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world." Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Some of the episode "Love, War, & Snow" is quoted in this story, so just wanted to let you know that I don't own Gilmore Girls.

… but if I did, it'd be halfway into the 8th season by now ;D.

Those idiots. So obsessed with town history that they feel the need to stand, like solemn-faced statues, out in a snowstorm. In another thirty minutes, they'll be entirely covered by snow, and they'll still refuse to move. They'll just freeze and the town will not only be rid of Taylor, but we'll have a nice ice sculpture to present at the next town meeting. Not that I go to those. Often.

I mean, who even likes the snow? To any sensible person, snow just means you have to bundle up and shovel. I can't think of a single sane person who likes the sn…

Lorelai.

Lorelai loves the snow. I think she might have mentioned it to me one winter… or four. She said that good things always happen to her during snowstorms. I wonder what sort of things. Maybe she discovered the magical powers of coffee during a snowstorm.

Coffee… those village idiots out there could sure use coffee right now.

I fetch a couple of coffee cups and begin filling them, my thoughts wandering back to Lorelai's obsession with snow. Probably never shoveled snow a day of her life. For the past who-knows-how-many years, I'd been doing it for her. And mowing her lawn. And raking her leaves.

Why do I do so much for Lorelai? Well, for one thing, I'm much better than any contractor. You shouldn't pay someone some ridiculous price to fix your house when instead, someone who cares about you more does it for free. For another thing, it makes her happy.

Briiingdiing. I leave the diner, twelve coffees in one hand, and make my way across the street, walking slowly so I don't slip. It's always important to be careful when it's icy. I reach the re-enactors and they all looked stiffly straight ahead, their faux-rifles shaking.

I start with an old friend of my dad's, Harry. "Here," I say simply, holding out the warm coffee.

"What is this?" he asks stupidly.

"I brought you coffee," I say patiently. He declines promptly. "Harry, you're freezing. Take the coffee," I insist, which launches him into a spiel about forefathers and historic beverages.

When he's done, I have exactly the right thing to say. "My father would've taken the coffee." Finally, the old man reaches out and takes it from me. Andrew accepts one happily, and Kirk… well, Kirk would like herbal tea with a little squeeze of lemon. Within a few moments I'm reciting orders.

Then I hear something familiar; a voice, warm and smooth… like velvet. Hearing Lorelai's voice makes me stop and turn around. My eyes immediately find what they are searching for, and gosh, does she look nice. The snowflakes are caught in her hair, and her cheeks are flushed from the cold. And with her is a man.

My stomach lurches in frustration. He looks exactly like the type of guy who wouldn't suit Lorelai at all. Probably studies romantic poems to recite to her, or gives her the typical gift of chocolate. I wonder if he even knows how to make her perfect coffee.

But the way she's looking at him… well, I can't study her face for too long, because it disappears into his. When they pull away, her smile is even bigger than before. She takes him by the hands and they sort of glide down the sidewalk…

I'm not really a masochistic guy, so I look away, turning back to the mock-soldiers. She didn't see me… I wonder what she would think if she knew what I saw. I wonder if they are going back to her house.

I wonder if her backdoor hinges need greasing right now.