Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own GG. Or Pop-Tarts. Or The Godfather series. And Dick Clark is his own person, not a fictitious character of my imagination. XD
"Mom, there's only four more minutes until it's 2000," fifteen-year-old Rory Gilmore called to her mother, "the world could end in four minutes and you'll be blown up while in our bathroom."
"I'm moving! This is only the most important day of this millennium; I am so there—just give me like four minutes or something."
"Mom!"
Lorelai popped her head out of the downstairs bathroom with a grin. "Gotcha, kid."
Rory sat amongst a junk food cornucopia. Strewn all over their coffee table was every kind of assortment of international cuisine Al's Pancake World and the rest of Stars Hollow could offer. It was a couple of days old, seeing as when it was three days until 2000, Taylor had called a town meeting to tell everyone that the celebration of the new millennium in the town square would have to be canceled due to an impending heavy snowstorm. "I would make every sacrifice to be there for Stars Hollow, but unfortunately, I cannot, with a clean conscience, ask any of you to do the same. Of—of course, if anyone does have the tenacity and determination to be there for our town—"
"And risk their necks out in a fierce snowstorm just so they could see another new year roll around? Fat chance, Taylor," Luke had called out.
"Hey, we're all probably going to die, anyway. Why not go out with a bang in the town square?" Kirk wanted to know.
Taylor had waved a hand with a grin to Kirk, while Miss Patty rolled her eyes and hid her face behind her hands. "I like this town spirit I'm seeing, Kirk!"
In the end, the celebration was canceled by a most decidedly unanimous vote, and Lorelai had run out of that meeting with Rory on her heels. Both knew the game-plan. Neither wanted to fail: Al's Pancake World never stood a chance. Doose's was ransacked. Luke almost gave himself a heart attack just looking at all the empty, carb-filled calories they bagged up. But in the end, it was worth it.
Rory took up an almost empty Chinese takeout box and slurped on some noodles while looking at her mother. "This new millennium waits for no one, not even you, Mom."
"Yes, it does. Didn't I ever tell you that I can control time? I bat my eyelashes at it and it bows to my every whim. It'll wait years for me," Lorelai said loftily from the kitchen.
"Well, the ball dropping won't wait for you. T-minus three minutes," Rory said, calmly eating her noodles.
Surrounded by the soft dim sound of snow, the TV was the only thing to be heard. The New Year's celebration in Times Square, so loud and people-clogged, blasted out into the small living room.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Lorelai came back with a bags of chips and Pop-Tarts. She bounced into the seat next to Rory, sitting back on her knees as she leaned against the couch with an open bag of chips in her lap. "Catch me up."
"You were gone for two minutes."
"So? Lots of things can happen in two minutes. The world could've blown up in two minutes."
"I think you would've noticed that already, hence erasing the need for me to catch you up on it."
"Augh, okay. Any celebrities show up?"
"Nope. You'd think that from running this broadcast all day, they'd have run out of things to show."
Lorelai gave Rory a look, like she figured her daughter was holding out some great TV moment that'd happened in her absence from her. "Apparently, they did."
"Who was your favorite celebrity appearance? I'm leaning towards Dick Clark," Rory said, trying to lighten her mother's obvious grumbling.
"Oh, totally, me too. Who can beat Dick? Do you think we watch this every year to see anyone besides Dick Clark?" Lorelai said.
"We've been watching Dick Clark all day, so even if there was some kind of celebrity sighting that I didn't tell you about, it wouldn't matter, because you've already gotten to see who you really came here to see," Rory said, not meeting her mother's eye.
Lorelai looked at Rory with a suspicious look. "Are you hiding a celebrity sighting from me, kid?"
"Why on Earth would I do such a cruel thing like that?" Rory wanted to know, though she hid a smirk.
"Because you're doing something that I would totally do, and I raised you, so I know for sure."
"Then you'll also know that if I did, I wouldn't tell you, because it's fun hanging it over your head," Rory smirked.
Lorelai scoffed. "Taste of my own medicine. You're just like me." She shook her head sadly. "I raised you too well."
"That you did." Rory settled back against the couch and traded her almost-eaten Chinese takeout box for Lorelai's crinkled bag of potato chip crumbs. Rory peered into the wrinkled bag with a little disappointed groan. "Oh, we're almost out of rations."
"However will we survive the next two minutes and thirty-two seconds?" Lorelai said, sighing dramatically. "We'll starve to death before the new year hits and then it won't matter about snowstorms and the Earth exploding killing us because we'll already be dead."
"We'll be ahead of schedule; we're so good at planning ahead," Rory said thoughtfully.
"Oh, are we." Lorelai put the now empty container of Chinese takeout on the coffee table and, hugging a pillow to her pajama shirt, smiled at Rory and said, "Okay, we have two minutes." She looked at the ceiling and said in a whooping voice, "NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS TIME!"
Rory groaned. "No, Mom, we're not doing this again—"
"Planning ahead, Rory Gilmore, that is what we do. We must plan ahead so that if the world doesn't explode, we will conquer the year 2000. It will be the Year of Lorelai Gilmore!"
"I thought we thought that New Year's resolutions were stupid, because no one actually does them," Rory pointed out.
"Well, duh, nobody ever does them." Lorelai had a special twinkle of mischief and mirth in her eye. "But they're fun to say out loud, like we're ambitious and world-tacklers instead of homebodies."
"The world will be tackled once I get into Harvard; we still have a couple of years until then to just be homebodies," Rory said pleadingly, snuggling down lower into the couch.
Lorelai's mouth gaped open as she put her hand to her heart. "My ears must be broken; did I just hear Rory Gilmore say that she wanted to be a 'homebody?' Oh, the horror!" Lorelai leaned forward like she was having a heart attack.
Rory sat up. "Mom."
"I'm sorry, I think I'm simultaneously having a heart attack and an allergic reaction. Homebody?"
"You know I'm kidding, right, Mom?"
"I know there's snow out there, kid, but call an ambulance! Tell them to bring a snow-plow!"
Rory sat up straighter. "T-minus one minute and sixteen seconds."
Lorelai straightened; she employed her learned ability to drop a humor act in less than two seconds. "Okay, you go first; think of something quick or I'll join in, ready set go!"
"Um," Rory said, biting her lips. Over the course of her winter school break, all she'd been thinking about was the snow, Christmas, her friends, her family—she'd let her mind blissfully sink away from any academic thoughts for the future. Now she looked forward to the year 2000—if the world didn't explode—what did she want to do?
"EHHHH!" Lorelai made a sound like a timer going off. "Time's up! My turn:" Lorelai straightened and did some kind of a record for talking fast—and she usually broke her usual record all the time: "You will resolve to become an even better student than you already are. Maybe you'll go to some fancy new high school or something. You will resolve to prepare for going to Harvard. You will make new friends and become better friends with the ones you already have. You will become an even more beautiful, smart, funny, witty, charming young lady than you already are. Also, you'll become really hot, exercise like you live in California or something, eat super-healthy like you're a rabbit, get Sleeping Beauty sleep and wake up perfect looking every morning, come into millions of dollars, learn how to apply mascara, and get a super-cute boyfriend. Yep." Lorelai smiled. "That will all happen. Except for the super-cute boyfriend part. You're not allowed to date until you're thirty."
"Oh, that's sad," Rory said. "Have you been spending more time with Mrs. Kim?"
"We're bosom buddies now."
Rory nodded thoughtfully. "I thought so."
"Okay, I'm done for you, and we have forty-six seconds. Go for me. Go go go go!" Lorelai clapped her hands.
Rory regarded her mother thoughtfully. "I'm thinking of realistic resolutions here. You will resolve to drink coffee like you normally do, but from Luke's more."
Lorelai made a queer look. "Why's that?"
"Because you argue with Luke there and that cheers you up. Besides, he has good quality coffee, and you should resolve to drink better coffee."
Lorelai sat cross-legged, looking pleased, and also mischievous. "I can get down with that."
"You will resolve to work hard at business school and get there on time." This with a pointed look from Rory, to which Lorelai responded with an "Eh," and her hand tilting like it was off-balance. "You will resolve to work hard at the Independence Inn, but also to move towards getting your own inn, whether it be a little progress or a lot—"
Lorelai laughed. "I'm still in business school, kid. I'm leaning towards a little—"
"You will resolve to be nicer to Michel—!"
"Ha! Fat chance!"
"Hey, it's not like I'm going to come into millions of dollars or learn how to apply mascara properly!"
"Yeah, but you said realistic resolutions—"
"And," Rory said firmly, "you will resolve to have a better relationship with Grandma and Grandpa."
Lorelai laughed harder now. "May I just repeat you, and I quote, 'realistic resolutions'. Like I can get a better relationship with my parents this year when I've known them for thirty-one and haven't gotten a better relationship with them in any of those years."
"Well, maybe this could be the year. Who knows. But you need to try, Mom," Rory said pleadingly, shaking her knee with her hand.
Lorelai sighed and sulked a little. "I gave you a super-cute boyfriend and you give me a better relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore?"
"You revoked my super-cute boyfriend, so consider us even, or something."
Lorelai looked at the ground, was quiet for a moment. "Fine. I resolve."
"Then I resolve." Rory leaned against her mom's shoulder with a smile.
They were quiet for a moment—quiet, these two best friends who could never shut up, who were always filling up the silence with witty banter and humor and warmth. All they could hear was the sound of Times Square, and even then also the tiny fall of snow on their house.
The countdown started: 10, 9. . .
"If the Earth blew up right now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be," Rory said quietly.
5 . . . 4 . . .
"Same, kid," Lorelai whispered.
—2 . . . 1—
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
The TV blew up ecstatically; confetti covered the crowds.
Lorelai and Rory peered around the room. The place was still standing. Looked exactly the same.
"That was anticlimactic," Rory said calmly.
"I was expecting more, you know, fireworks and explosions and stuff," Lorelai said.
"Huh." Rory shrugged. Then she said, "Wanna watch The Godfather?"
"Sure you wanna do that? 'Cause if we watch one, then we'll have to watch all of them," Lorelai said.
"You don't have work tomorrow and I don't have school. Not to mention we're snowed in. There's no one to stop us," Rory pointed out.
"Living on the wild side. I knew you were my daughter. I raised you well." Lorelai nodded approvingly. "Why not?"
"Great! I'll get more soda."
"And coffee. We'll need a fresh pot of coffee," Lorelai pointed out.
"You've read my mind."
"We have the same mind, or did you forget?" Lorelai wanted to know.
"How could I forget?"
Despite these plans, Rory didn't move. She stayed leaning against her mother's shoulder for a little while longer. She closed her eyes as Lorelai methodically combed her hand through her hair.
"Happy New Year, Mom," Rory whispered.
"Happy New Year, Rory," Lorelai said quietly.
And there was no other sound than that of the TV blaring and the soft pat-pat of snow falling outside.