If any single person out there in the world of fan fiction has forgotten the significance of this date, I spit upon each and every one of you.
It's Jombles' BIRTHDAY!
It's her birthday! It's her 18th one! She can join the army! Do you understand the excitement I am exuding! THE ARMY, PEOPLE! Now, no one here has the slightest desire to join the army (that I am aware of). However, all Jombles has really, sincerely ever wanted is the OPTION to join. I feel her pain; to me it is absolutely forbidden fruit. I must have it! I must! Crew cut be damned!
Also new on the scene is the fact that I'm not a total bitch. This, to me, is some of the best news ever!
Thirdly: this story is being updated! WTF!
Fourthly, I should not be allowed to write author's notes when I'm in a good mood. I seriously planned this as very short but my own exuberance forced its way onto the page.
Fifthly, on a more sobering note, this is both the last chapter of this fic and of any fic I shall write! Because I know… I have literally… DOZENS of fans out there very upset by this news. Literally HALF-DOZENS of fans. There are literally a COUPLE OF PEOPLE who will be affected by this news. There is an arm and a leg out there belonging to a person that… has read my fic? At all?
In conclusion, man, I love you guys! But kind of in that super drunk "I seriously love you man. Seriously, you're one of my best friends. You're awesome. Seriously, can we hug?" kind of way. Which is sincere in its own endearing, hazy way.
And as we end an era, let the credits roll and the black and white montage play. Now read the damn thing!
Vinegar and Glitter
Chapter Ten Lords A-Leaping, Eleven Pipers Piping, and Twelve Drummers Drumming: In Which Everything is Wrapped Up
Timidly Rory linked a few fingers through Jess' hand. She looked up at him through dark eyelashes as he smiled and tightened his grip. They continued their dizzy, aimless stroll in this fashion until they reached the bridge where it had all begun.
"Forgive me," he said as they both took seats on the edge, their feet skimming the top of the dark water, "but I'm not so good at this mushy stuff."
"You're doing okay so far," Rory admitted. He looked down and smirked, shaking his head.
"I feel so bizarre right now. Here I am, sitting with probably the most amazing girl I've ever known, and she and I are actually on the same page, and we're both happy and not secretly fucking someone on the side or something. You're not secretly fucking someone on the side, are you?" he clarified quickly with a look up.
She drew her breath out slowly. "Oh geez, I was planning to tell you… this is awkward."
He enveloped her in a tight one-armed hug and ruffled her hair. "Don't even joke."
She took her hand in his and lay it palm up, tracing the indentations and marveling at his neat curt fingernails. He captured her fingers and pulled them to him, leaning into her for a lingering kiss.
She nipped his lip as they pulled away. "I think you're rubbing off on me."
"Yeah, well, hey, welcome to the club."
The déjà vu continued across town as Lorelai was perched on the counter with Luke fastened firmly to her mouth. She raked her fingernails across his scalp, loosening his cap and letting it fall to the floor. Hand firmly to her hip, Luke was slow and patient in his perusal of Lorelai's mouth as she tried and failed to draw him into something more passionate.
"Hey," he said, pulling back and planting a kiss to her jaw. "The diner may be closed but it is still breakfast time."
"And haven't you ever heard of breakfast nookie?" insisted Lorelai, hands falling to his collar.
"Breakfast nook, maybe," he said, planting his hands on the counter either side of her.
"Um, hello, Luke," she said faux-patronizingly. "If you think afternoon delight is so mind-blowing, then just imagine the power of mid-morning delirium."
He flashed her a genuine grin, a commodity that was becoming less and less rare to her than it had been. "And let's not forget Euphoria at Dawn."
"Midnight Ecstasy?"
"Early Evening Rapture."
"And, of course, Lunch-time Jubilation."
"Yeah, there's definitely not enough of that," said Luke, smirking.
"Wonderful, bloated, post-French fries sex? It's out of this world."
"Speaking of which…" Luke disappeared to the kitchen, much to Lorelai's chagrin, and appeared with a plate. "You never got your waffle in all the rush."
"You really are the perfect man," said Lorelai as she held out her hands for the plate.
"Sorry it's a little burnt on the edges," apologized Luke.
"Nothing a can of whipped cream can't fix!" Lorelai grabbed the can from behind the counter and went about emptying it on her waffle. "I bet I can make a snowman."
Luke shook his head as he watched her, arms folded. "You could not be farther from the perfect woman for me."
"And yet?" said Lorelai as she shot a spray directly into her mouth.
"And yet you're the only thing I want."
They shared a intimate and almost raw glance from across the counter. Lorelai grinned and scooped a dollop of whipped cream off her waffle with her finger and relocated it to his nose. "Exactly."
Chris trundled down the sidewalk with all the power and grace of an 18-wheeler, the sides of his leather jacket airborne. He attacked the pavement with each blind step until he finally slowed, blocks from the diner. He took a seat on the curb and put his head in his hands.
It was all gone. His dream of getting Lorelai back and being a real father to Rory—vanished. Lorelai had lied to him and he'd spent all this time back in Stars Hollow palling around with her and Rory for nothing. He had gotten nothing out of it. She had a new man, and by the looks of it, they were pretty stable.
"Such a waste of my time," he grumbled to himself, kicking a pebble out of the gutter.
He felt himself slipping into a deep funk. He was sure, so sure, that Lorelai was the only woman he'd ever truly loved, the only one he could ever imagine loving. His heart was broken. He'd never love again.
The crunch of tires against gravel brought his head back up. His eyes traveled up the length of a purple Mini Cooper and into the eyes of a confused-looking blonde.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, but do you know anywhere around here that's good to eat? I mean, I saw this one restaurant, but I'm not really in the mood for pancakes, especially from somewhere that smelled so much like Korean barbeque. And the only other place was closed. I'm just on my way to New York from South Carolina, so I'm a little lost out here." She scratched her head and placed an elbow on the open window of her car. "In fact, I don't actually have any idea where I am," she admitted with a drawl. "Do you think you could help me?"
Chris looked into her vacant and stunning green eyes for a few timeless moments and stood slowly. "For you, anything."
"So, Taylor, what do you think about all the excitement over at Luke's this morning?" questioned Miss Patty, leaning in as she waited for him to ring up her purchase.
"I think it's all a load of hooey, to tell you the truth," he said brusquely, swiping her bottle of wine and placing it to the side. "It's causing a lot of nonsense that it's really not worth."
"Well I think it's romantic," said Miss Patty, toying with a string of beads around her neck. "Two people like that, getting together after all these years..."
Taylor grunted non-commitedly, pushing past him Brie cheese and a bag of grapes.
"You know, a couple that's always sort of dancing around one another, but never doing anything about it. Finally giving into those feelings, that sexual…tension…"
Taylor paused, his hand in mid-swipe of a pack of sheer pantyhose. He looked up at Miss Patty apprehensively. She batted her eyelashes, raised her eyebrow, cocked her shoulder, flirted with the edge of her shawl.
He cleared his throat lowly and leaned in. "My shift ends in ten minutes."
"I'll meet you in the back in ten minutes."
Gawd, it's over. Come on, don't cry. I know I seriously affect you…
Anyway, on a more serious note (yes, it's still me), this whole story and experience and everything about everything has been amazing and wonderful and full of great and superb things. Long rambling reviews, endless attacks on a story that got pulled twice due to Anon (Oh, Anon! the memories!), writing that Rory and Dean story as a request for that crazy hick, and of course the A/N's: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the physically dangerous. I may have to list memory number one as the epic Crap Fic. Why did that have to get pulled? That was my best work. Maybe I'll post it on this name. Now I'm just thinking out loud.
Anyway. BYE!
And in the future: Somewhere, in a distant and un-documented place behind the shelves of the Doose's Market storeroom, something unspeakable takes place that is better off distant and un-documented.
Happy birthday/life/fan-fiction to one and all!