A/N: Ah, yes, time for another blessed update…Oh, hehe, I mislead you in my A/N last chapter, claiming that Rory and Finn wouldn't end up together. I don't think that was such a hot idea because my reviews plummeted…drastically. Anyways, they totally will be with each other in the end; by the tenth chapter 'cause that's when I plan on ending this fic. 'Plan' being the key word here ; However, I have written myself in a fabulous little corner and am now trying how to get out of it…Hmmm.
Disclaimer: I own nada.
Lorelai's day barely got started when she got a serious dose of reality in the form of the Third Lorelai throwing up; an extremely queer sound to be witnessed over telephone wires. Our blessed inn-owning Gilmore girl managed to get out of bed at nine o'clock, which was extraordinarily early for a weekend morning, showered at a very fast rate, fed Paul Anka, made a travel cup of coffee, grabbed her purse, and was making her way out of the door when she got her daughter's mysteriously frantic phone call.
Saturday just happened to be Double Chocolate Chip Muffin Day at Weston's and may Fran turn in her grave if Lorelai didn't show up for the first time in almost four years. It was tradition for her and Rory to completely book it and make it to the bakery before ten in the morning, which almost always when Weston's ran out of stock. Luke was guaranteed to pique by the time the girls showed up, armed with two bagfuls of his competitor's pastries. Now that she and Luke were at a dead lock in their relationship, friendly or romantic, Lorelai basically had nobody who would grumble and get their panties in a twist at the sight of muffins; she was a little pissed off.
Pissed off because she was deprived of her fake boastfulness and pissed off because her home phone picked a dandy time to ring.
Knowing she hadn't talked to Rory since she made the announcement in the gazebo short of a week ago that she was marrying Logan, Lorelai bolted to the source of the aggravating sound, dropping her purse on the ground. Mother and daughter had an engagement to meet yesterday to discuss the imperative things that a wedding usually induced, but the younger decided that she would just skip it. What was it that a college senior a few days from graduating, who had a boyfriend, a school paper deadline to make, and a crazy ass Friday night dinner she had to attend at her grandmother's was so damn important?
"You were supposed to down yesterday afternoon!" was the first thing she exclaimed, not really caring in the least if the person at the other end was Rory or not. If it wasn't she'd make them feel bad as well.
"M-mom…"
"Sweetie?" Lorelai asked, suddenly worried. Never in her life had she heard her daughter sound like that before. It was a begging, struggling sound that made her insides twist around in a bad way. The voice that she heard through the phone was something in similarity to an old dying army general saying his last dying words, "Hon, is something wrong?" Her face suddenly drained of all color, worst case scenarios running through her mind, "What happened?"
"I-I," she heard Rory sob, "I think I made a mistake—" the last of her words were cut off because the next thing Lorelai knew, a clamoring sound filled up her ear. She instantly knew it was the sound of the contact device at the other end hitting the floor.
"Rory?" she said, hearing nothing, "Rory!"
Then Lorelai did hear something. It would be absolutely impossible to mistake the sound. Her kid was throwing up.
She had not the foggiest idea of what to do. Her feet found themselves pacing the span of the carpet of the living room, watching the hand of the clock slowly tick by ten o'clock. She'd miss Muffin Day. Weston's could suffer through the 2.75 they were missing from her contribution because there was something seriously wrong with the person she loved most in the world. The sound was ragged and choking at the other end of the line and Lorelai felt tears burn at the corner of her stunning blue eyes because she could do nothing to help. It might have been something as minor as a stomach cold, quite possibly the thing that kept Rory away yesterday, but it still pained her mother to grow through the thing she was listening to. About to hang up and rush down to Yale, she heard someone who was sure as hell not Rory roaring into the phone, "Finn, you stupid fucking idiot! What did you say to her?!"
"Logan Huntzburger," Lorelai growled into the phone in a tone she didn't recognize, "I would highly suggest getting you rich ass in gear and tending to your fiancé before making a blatantly false accusation of who she was talking to."
"L-Lorelai?"
"Yes, you moron! Do I sound like Finn to you?"
"Er- no ma'am, I just thought—"
"If you do not find out what's wrong with Rory, I'll make sure that you never have the ability to think again," that dangerous tone was back.
"She's fine now…she must have had the flu or something…" was his bored response.
"Was she like this the day before?"
"Uh, no. She was alright."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Lorelai snapped into the phone, hanging up before Logan could explain what was going on and jammed it into its charger.
GGGG
When Rory Gilmore came to, she was lying on the couch in her and Logan's apartment covered with a fleece blanket, her neck supported by a pillow. She must have whacked her head on something when she passed out after hurling all of the contents of her stomach into a toilet because she groaned as she made a rather poor attempt at sitting up, everything above her shoulders pounding way worse than anything a hangover could deliver. The last thing she could remember formerly to the walls and objects around her going black was that she—
Oh, God.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Rory tried her best to purge herself of memory, positively revolted with what she had done. She was about call out to Logan, wondering if he was even there, when she heard two people arguing from somewhere in the kitchen.
"I just figu—"
"Why?" she heard her mother ask, her voice straining. Rory was confused as to what possibly brought Lorelai to Yale, but then she realized that she was person she was talking to before all she knew slipped away.
"You know why!"
"No, as a matter of fact, Nick, I don't!" Nick? Who--? Oh…dawned on her. Nick Carter. You couldn't deny the humor in that statement.
"She never told you?"
"Told me what?"
"About…you know…I'm positive you were told. Rory wouldn't just not notify you."
"Huntzburger, I'd appreciate it if you filled me in," she heard Lorelai prompt. Rory felt her whole body go cold, cursing herself over and over again for not explaining the whole situation.
"The whole deal with Finn?"
"What deal?"
"No!" Rory shouted, pushing herself off the couch despite feeling wobbly when standing up and her skull threatening to split down the middle, "Logan, don't…" she could sense her mom would surprised to see her arise, "I'll tell her."
"I can do it, Ace," her said softly, placing her hand on her should to guide her back down to the couch, "You shouldn't be up."
"I got this," Rory said through her teeth, pulling away from his touch and making eye contact with Lorelai, signaling to step out into the hall.
She followed her mother out the door, crossing her arms about her chest which sported a Hollywood Planet t-shirt she got in an Atlantic City mini-mart when she celebrated turning the wonderful age of twenty-one, "I don't understand," the eldest started, "how you couldn't tell me you slept with someone besides Logan…"
Rory shook her head, "…I didn't sleep with—how did you know it involved another guy?"
To her utter shock, she saw Lorelai smile, "Come on, Rory. I've been on this earth sixteen years longer than you. I've also been around the block a few more times and during my travels I've picked up the signals."
"…signals?" she felt sick as she asked this, knowing that the being standing before her was nothing less than on target.
"For one, you looked abnormally under par when you told me you'd be marrying the guy standing on the other side of this wall. For two, I've barely talked to you since then and if I did it was nothing about Logan or the most important day of your life, but about how you had a headache for the past three days and the status of how you were running out of coffee filters…"
"Well I was," Rory said a sorry attempt in backing herself up. A vacuous expression surrounded her because she knew her mother was right. Not only was she feeling desecrated for what she did with and to the blond male she had been going out with for the past three years of her life, but she had a dishonest sensation cascade on her for keeping something so vital from the one individual she had based her whole existence off of, and the ridiculous standpoint she had developed with Finn.
"For three," Lorelai continued, "you were not sick yesterday. I know this. I know you. That gives no describable reason as to why you were puking your brains out two hours ago. You did something with Logan last night, Rory, I'm not that stupid. You also did something with Finn. What you want from one guy and want from the other are clashing. It sucks. I've been through it."
"…Mom," she said quietly, the look in her eyes pleading, "What do I do?"
"Follow your heart, kid," was the simple response, "Not your head."
Rory lifted her hand to her mouth to try and stop the sob that threatened to come out, "…I can't….its been dejected."
Lorelai took a deep breath and gradually let it out as she wrapped her daughter in a comforting hug, "Well," she said softly, "I suggest you go wail on the guy who did the dejecting."
GGGG
Standing outside of Finn's apartment door, Rory pulled her long reddish-brown hair into a ponytail, fixed her polo, manually tried to get the wrinkles out of her jeans and actually, genuinely smiled for the first time in many, many days.
She was going to do this. She was going to get her heart back and put it back together. Once Finn opened the door and saw her standing in the hall, he would apologize, say he was wrong for what he did while Rory would nod, understanding, and tell him the same thing. They would then agree that what they did many nights ago was predestined to happen; they had been friends and in close social and physical contact. It was only natural that they try to see if they could maybe take it a step farther previous to the 't's being crossed and the 'i's being dotted with her and Logan. Rory knew that she and Finn kissed. Maybe a little more than that, but she decided that it was all animalistic instinct and literally meant nothing. In order to move on in the future, she had to fix the holes in the past. In order to do this, their friendship had to be restored and the ongoing fight inside of her head between what was supposedly right and wrong has to be resolved. This had to be done. Now.
Rory rose her hand, clenching in a non-menacing fist to knock on his door to get this whole…disaster over with just when a buxom, bouncy blonde with boobs that would make Dolly Parton advise reduction surgery came bounding down the hallway, her cami tank-top squeezing all the blood to her face, "Sorry!" she said cheerfully, twisting around the star of the story to do the actual deed. She then turned as if noticing Rory for the first time, stuck out her pink nail polished hand and said in a brilliant tone, "Hi, I'm Chrissy!"
Smiling, Rory shook her hand; happy to meet what she supposed was Finn's girlfriend. This was good. Moving on was good, "Hey, Chrissy, I'm Rory," avid to match the other girl's happy demeanor, she added, "It's nice to meet you."
Chrissy's immediately collapsed, "Oh."
Tilting her head, Rory asked, "…is that bad?"
"It's just…" the chipper playmate mocker said, "…I thought he said you guys were over."
"Over?" she questioned, really lost, "We never got started."
"Well Finn said—"
"I don't like liars very much," Rory said with a definite sting in her comment, "Do you?"
The blonde realized that she was talking to someone that is not to be messed with and said, "No. Not at all."
"I'm glad," she managed fit in before the one man that had been haunting her nightmares and daydreams answered the knock. His mop of dark hair was styled with and artful laziness that complimented his green eyes in a way Rory never noticed before and made her pulse pound so hard she was sure everyone within a hundred twenty-two miles could hear it. He had god-like sculpted biceps that played with the sleeve of his shirt in manner that ensured that her sanity would never be restored until he had his arms wrapped around her one last time. She saw him stare straight through the bimbo standing obliviously between them and Rory dared make eye contact with the guy that caused the entire rationality bolt out of her head like it was on a treadmill built for the Roadrunner.
The look linking them together for those limited and precious seconds could have powered London after it was hit by a nuclear disaster.
Oh, shit.
This definitely wasn't good.
N/A: Bam! That hit you like a brick in the face, did it not? I loooove reviews. Yes, sireee, Bob.
