What Ducks Do: Her
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Spoilers: Pretty much any relationship up to the end of Season 4.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show or the characters. If I did, student loan wouldn't own me. I wouldn't mind a personal Luke, though.
Author's note: The title and premise for this story came from an obscure line in a season 2 episode. For some reason, it just stuck with me. And then the plot bunnies attacked, so of course I had to write this. Be warned this is in monologue format (with the exception of the last few lines, of course). Internal ranting and reflection just seemed apt for this story. Not sure why, but I think the plot bunnies had something to do with it.
Read, review, flame as desired. :)
You know, I would have married Max. And I would have been reasonably happy too. But things just didn't work out that way.
Sometimes I would if he would have gone through with the wedding if I'd actually made it to the altar. He wasn't stupid – far from it. Could he really spend his life with someone knowing that he was their second (or perhaps even further down the list) choice?
Who knows? Looking back, I think Max was as far in denial as I was. He knew something was up. He tried to be so understanding, but how could he understand this? And how could I begin to explain it to him? That I'd kept all the men in my life at arm's length hoping that my first love would finally get it together. That we would finally be a real family?
Nothing but wishful thinking on my part. Maybe if I'd never called Christopher that night. But then I have to ask myself the question, why did I call him that night? Did I really miss him? Did my heart long for him – or something equally cheesy? Or did I just know that something was right with Max?
Who knows? I think I still could have made it to the altar in spite of all this but then all I could think about were ducks. I know it's not part of animal nature to mate for life (I do watch Animal Planet) with the exception of ducks. But I didn't know which one I was. Was I a duck? Or just a regular animal? And why the hell did I care? To be truly symbolic, that damn Chuppah should have had ducks on it rather than just birds, flowers, and Gilbert.
Even with this gorgeous Chuppah in my front yard, I still had reservations. And I don't know why. What more did I need to get into the spirit of things? I was getting married for God's sake! Was it such a big deal that I didn't have a borderline OCD compulsion to try my wedding dress on every night? I'd said yes, I was wearing the ring, I'd planned the entire wedding, and I had the damn dress! Wasn't that enough?
Apparently not. I had to tell Max the truth. I couldn't marry him. There were too many thoughts and doubts running through my mind. It really wouldn't have been fair to either of us. So I called him and ended things.
He insisted on coming over to talk things through. There was no way I could deal with him coming to Stars Hollow and begging me to reconsider. So I told Rory I was going over to Sookie's and I snuck out of town.
We met in a Starbuck's on the outskirts of Hartford. It went much smoother than I expected. I gave him back the run. He gave me back the stuff I had left behind at his place. I had no such items to return to him. He never did bring the printer over to the house. I guess that, on some level, I had been preparing for this. No muss, no fuss – a nice clean break.
And then I fled. Although the general consensus is that I always run, that it's always me who breaks hearts, it's not always the truth. I spent years turning Chris down because he wasn't ready to settle down with a family. But when he finally became that guy he broke my heart. He left me. I didn't leave him. In fact, I was more than willing to make a go of things. For a while it all seemed perfect. And then, twelve hours later, it was in pieces on the ground.
I didn't break Alex's heart. But neither did he break mine. Ours was a shallow fling, I guess. We had a good time while it lasted and then it just faded away – sort of by mutual consent.
Jason was a disaster from the start. Although it seemed like I dated him mainly to piss off my mother – I may have even convinced myself of that – I find it hard to believe in retrospect. If I really wanted to make my mother angry, then I would have told her we were dating. But I didn't because I genuinely cared for him and actually wanted to shield him from my mother.
Although he gave every indication of really liking (perhaps even loving) me – after all, he gave me an apartment key – I don't think it was genuine affection. If he really cared about me, he wouldn't have been a complete ass. I mean, why even bother to come visit my town if he was going to do nothing but talk on his damn cell phone all day? I know I used my cell a lot, but I'm not even that bad. And I know that business is important, but it's like he didn't care enough to even try. The sad thing about this? That whole fiasco was nothing compared to him suing my father. That was a betrayal of me, my family, and many, many levels in between. It still makes me mad just to think about it. And then he wouldn't go away. Showing up at the Inn the night had more to do with winning and less to do with him missing me. If I had gone back to him that night then he wouldn't have had to face any consequences for his actions. In his world he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. I can't do that, nor can I condone those who try. My life has been nothing but consequences for my actions.
I'd love to stand here and wave my hand dismissively, calling them all idiots, but I just can't. It's not their fault – not entirely anyway. I usually had a pretty good hand in screwing it all up. And I had my reasons, I guess. I suppose that some romantic somewhere will say that my heart just wouldn't let me settle, or something equally foolish. Personally, I think I was just being a complete idiot.
And it's time to change that.
I see him walking through the town square and it's all I can do not to run to him. I head towards him and when I get close enough I call his name. He looks in my direction and stops, waiting for me to catch up. I stop in front of him, looking him straight in the eye.
"I–" and I falter. He looks at me questioningly. I steel myself and begin again. "I care what the hell ducks do." I smile shyly, hoping he gets this. "I want to be a duck."
There's a pause and my heart drops. Suddenly a smile breaks across his face and he takes my hand and it hits me – everything will be okay.
It's good to be a duck.