Kiss Me, I'm Radioactive

Author: Tinuviel Henneth

Email: smolderingbunny@aol.com

Improv: flaunt brusque intense possess virtue

Disclaimer: Based on characters created and owned by Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: It's raining and Rory's glowing. She's just betrayed her best friend, but she's glowing. A conversation with Lorelai. Alludes to Rory/Dave.

Author's Note: Set in early June 2003 (post-S3). Some spoilers for episodes 316-318; read at your own discretion. It's also not written in my usual style. But it's an improv fic, and improv fics are exercises outside the normal way you write.

*

It was quite literally pouring outside as Rory ran home. Poetic justice, in a way. She was being punished for her sins, punished with the atrocity of rain hair. She didn't have a hat with her, or a coat, or even a book. She was wearing a sweater and jeans. And flip-flops. For some idiotic and nonsensical reason, she had grabbed a pair of fishie flip-flops on her way out the door that evening when the phone had rung. While her Reeboks sat sadly nearby, unused and lonely.

Her mind fluttered briefly back, standing and panting on her porch. She couldn't seem to wipe the stupid grin off her face, despite the utter wrongness of the whole situation. She felt alive and perfect. She could still see the look in his eyes. All intense and adoring and begging her to stay, which naturally she couldn't because, well, obviously they both had other people to think about.

She opened the door and started looked at the ceiling for a moment. Her mother was curled up on the couch, channel surfing. She had paused on the weather channel, which forecasted cloudy, rainy skies for Connecticut. Cloudy, rainy skies for Rory, too, but that was tucked at the very back of her mind.

Her mother glanced up at her. "Hey, babe," Lorelai said with a grin, tossing a salt and vinegar chip into her mouth. Rory just stood there, dripping wet and smiling stupidly. Lorelai got up and came around towards Rory, raising an eyebrow. The bag of chips spilled out onto the couch after Lorelai's rather unceremonious disposal of them to investigate Rory's sudden stupor.

"Hi, Mom," Rory replied, her voice higher than normal.

Lorelai tipped Rory's face up towards her. "You're all glowy," she stated. "Why are you glowy?"

Rory drew back and blushed. "What? How am I glowy?"

Lorelai looked stern. "You know what I mean, girlie. You are positively radiating right now. I'm about to go upstairs and dig out those sun visors Emily gave me for Christmas last year."

Rory looked confused. "The ones that hook onto the car flip-down mirrors?"

"Yeah, those," Lorelai replied. "So fess up. Why are you all glowy? Do I have to murder Luke's darling nephew? I hope not, because I certainly am starting to like dear old Luke a lot lately and it might not go over too well if I murder Jess. . ." she trailed off, noticing Rory's dazed expression. "Oh, come on, Rory. You look like a bad Patti Simcox imitation."

"Grease is the word," Rory deadpanned.

"Rory!"

"Patience is a virtue, Lorelai dearest," Rory replied.

"So's not keeping your old mother waiting. I might get hyper-extended and die from nervous anticipation."

"Big words, there," Rory observed.

"Back! Back in your corner, devil child," Lorelai said, then seemed to realize she had told Rory to go away. "No, I take that back. You have to tell me why you're all sparkly first."

"Oh, so I'm sparkly now?"

"What?"

"Earlier I was glowy. Now which is it?"

Lorelai was confused. "Can't you be both sparkly and glowy? I know I would like to be both sparkly and glowy. . .oh, who am I kidding, I am sparkly and glowy." She laughed.

Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm a bad girlfriend," she said with a snort.

Lorelai's expression grew serious. "So this does or doesn't involve Jess?"

"Doesn't. But he's been a bad boyfriend lately, so it's even now."

"Uh, Rory, his father just reentered his life after, like, all of his life."

"So? Is it necessary for him to unofficially dump me for Jimmy?" Rory asked with raised eyebrows. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get something to drink. I'm parched." She started for the kitchen.

Lorelai followed her, "I'm not giving up on you."

"I wouldn't expect you to." She opened the fridge, not really expecting anything, but came up with a half-drunk bottle of Vanilla Coke. "How long has this been in here?" she asked Lorelai.

"I brought it home from work today," Lorelai replied, frowning. "Come on, drink up quick. Mommy wants details. Every sordid detail."

"Oh, honestly, you of all people should know what it's like."

"What what's like?" Lorelai wasn't following. It wasn't often she missed something.

"You know. . ." Rory trailed off, took a sip from the bottle, then kept her eyes riveted to the floor. "It."

"It. . ." Lorelai's eyes flared. "Oh! Hey! We agreed after Paris spilled her guts to you about Jamie that there would be none of that in my house."

Rory shook her head. "Peach Lane, Mom. Peach Lane."

"I am taking it up with Taylor that we get that street renamed Cherry Plow, double entendre very much intended." Lorelai's brain seemed to catch up with her mouth at this point, because she looked confused again. "Hey, wait. We don't keep the regular company of anyone living on Peach Lane, do we?" Rory shrugged. "You've got my attention, kiddo. Shoot."

"When you put it that way," Rory said with a frown.

Lorelai pouted. "You're a naughty girl, doing naughty things with an anonymous guy on Peach Lane and flaunting it. . ." she trailed off and Rory finished off the bottle of Coke. "Rory, it's not called Peach Lane."

"I know."

"It's called Peach St."

"I know."

"Are you sleeping with Dave?"

Rory stopped moving and just stared at her mother. "Where'd you come up with that?"

"Well, darlin' the whole Peach Lane thing tipped me off. Why do you want to peach Lane? She's your best friend?"

Rory sat down and fiddled with the empty bottle. "I'm not really glowy anymore, am I?"

Lorelai sat beside her. "Of course you're still glowy. You just got laid."

"I'm never letting you watch Mallrats again."

"Small sacrifices must be made for the greater good. I can get my Jason Lee fix from Heartbreakers."

"Oh, shut up. You know you watch it because you're secretly in love with Jason Mew."

"Uh, not even if there were five minutes left for me to be alive. I'd rather do Silent Bob."

"That can probably be arranged." Rory tapped her nails on the plastic neck of the bottle.

Lorelai looked thoughtful. "Drowning in a vat of milk. I had a nightmare about that once. Someone had attempted to put creamer in my coffee, the poor soul."

"What?" Rory asked, genuinely lost.

"The Limp Bizkit video for 'Re-arranged.' The band drowns in milk." Lorelai proceeded to sing a few bars of the song before she got confused and botched the lyrics.

"How did we get from the fact I've just come from having sex with my best friend's boyfriend to talking about Limp Bizkit?"

"A ha!" Lorelai shrieked.

"Oh, God," Rory muttered to herself, bracing for the worst. "What?"

"It was Dave!"

"Of course it was Dave."

"But you were beating all around the bush about it. Have I taught you nothing about abusing the shrubbery?"

"--only if it's Taylor's shrubbery will it be tolerated--"

"Okay, you're not a complete heathen. Plus, after you said you'd slept with your best friend's boyfriend, I knew that it had to be Lane's boy because you barely know Alex." Lorelai stopped. "Anyway, might I ask what on God's Green Earth possessed you to sleep with Dave?"

Rory sighed and looked out the window. It was raining even harder now. The sun was setting, the sky was angry and rainy, and Rory still felt giddy even though she knew very well she shouldn't. "I was over there talking to him about Lane's birthday-- it's next Thursday, you know-- and I noticed he was looking at me funny."

"Stop. Funny-weird or funny-haha?"

"Definitely funny-weird," Rory said fervently. "I was still talking a mile a minute and I think he was keeping up. I was telling him about the Distillers concert Jess and I went to back in February-- he likes the Distillers, too, you know-- and then he kissed me."

"You went to a Distillers concert?" Lorelai asked, furrowing her brow. "Why was I not informed."

"You were otherwise occupied, or something," Rory said vaguely.

Lorelai nodded. "Okay, back to the part where he kissed you."

"Yeah, so I'm not a complete harlot. He kissed me first."

"Did you kiss back?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Lorelai sighed dramatically. "I need to know so I can decide how big of a harlot you really are."

"After a minute. At first I pushed him away, but then I was like, 'Hey, what the hell?' and I kissed back."

"Oooh, I was right. You're a whore."

"Thanks, Mom," Rory said quietly. Lorelai smiled lopsidedly. "Moving on."

"Yes, yes. Get to the good stuff."

Rory tossed the bottle at her. It hit Lorelai in the shoulder and clunked to the floor. "He's a good kisser, actually. He starts out very gentle and sweet and gradually gets more demanding and brusque about it."

"Whereas Jess just demands and demands?" Lorelai interjected.

"Actually, Jess is a very considerate kisser," Rory said lightly, smirking. "Oh, my God," she said. Her face fell into shadow and she slumped forward, plopping her forehead onto the table. "Mom," she said, her voice muffled, "I slept with Lane's boyfriend."

Lorelai patted her head. "Honey, it's okay, I think. I don't approve, naturally, and I'm still in shock about it."

"No, Mom. This is a terrible thing. This is the most terrible thing I've ever done."

"It ranks up there."

"This is the most terrible thing either of us has done. This tops even the nasty things you've done. This tops the nasty things even Jess has done. The staged murder and the kidnapping of a gnome included." She started to cry. Lorelai pulled her close, into a tight hug. "I hate myself."

"Shh, Rory," she said.

"You should hate me, too. Everyone's going to hate me, Mom. Lane will, Dean will, Dave will when he comes to his senses and realizes what this does to his perfect little relationship. . ."

"Rory, has it occurred to you that maybe their relationship isn't so perfect if he's bonking other people?"

"That just means they're well on their way to being a rock supercouple." Rory started to cry even harder at that thought. "And where does this leave me, the horrible, whorish ex best friend?"

"It leaves you right here, Rory. Right here in Stars Hollow until you can get out. You'll be at Yale in three months and you won't have to see them anymore."

"But that's three months from now!" Rory wailed. "What am I going to tell Jess? What am I going to tell Lane?"

Lorelai frowned. "You probably don't want to hear this, but you could always not tell them anything. Dave's a decent guy, so he's not going to go around broadcasting that the two of you boinked."

"Decent guys tell their girlfriends when they sleep with other people."

"Okay, bad example. I know. But decent guys don't want to hurt their girlfriends, so they won't tell them when they screw other people."

Rory sniffled. "I don't want to think about this anymore."

"Okay," Lorelai said slowly. "Go to bed. Sleep is good."

"If I sleep, I'll dream. Dreaming bad."

"Then read a book. A good, old, trusty book. Moby Dick, for example."

"Why Moby Dick?"

"It's got a whale in it, silly. Anything with a whale will surely take your mind off of whatever troubles you have. I frequently watch A Perfect Storm when I'm troubled."

"Firstly, there is no whale in A Perfect Storm. Secondly, never let me hear you say 'frequently' again."

"Duly noted." Lorelai said. "Hey, I rented Legends of a Fall and Fight Club."

"And the new Ocean's Eleven?"

"Of course."

"A Brad marathon might be okay."

"Yep. We're fast-forwarding through the part in Legends where his wife gets shot, though."

The End.