A Gilmore Girls fanfic

Author: mz lynx

Disclaimer: Don't even own a set of dvd's...

AN: Edited and reposted.

At the Heart of Things

Chapter 8: How You Want It

"Hi, Dr Marshall." She walks through the door, radiating a quiet glow – if such a thing exists – looking content and as close to happy as he's ever seen her. If it wasn't for the fact that the image of her breaking down in this very room only the day before… Then he might have said she looked happy. Now he settles for almost, even though it's hardly settling – considering what he knows.

"Hello Lorelai. Feeling okay?" He looks at her carefully, noticing that she seems rested and that the dark circles under her eyes have faded a little during the past few days.

"Yeah, actually. When I left here yesterday I stopped for some Chinese, take-out naturally, and then went home to positively stuff myself. Then I went to bed early and actually slept! She sounds amused and surprised at the same time, as if she'd been saying she'd found a man dressed as Santa trying to rob a store.

"See, as if my health wasn't screwed up enough anyway I also suffer from bouts of insomnia, comes and goes actually, but… I never sleep well anymore, at least not on my own – I've been taking pills for that too for oh, since London. Last night I got over eight hours, and that just doesn't happen to me! Not without those pills. The last time I can remember that happening… Oh, okay, so after the first time I came here, but before this week? Hasn't happened since I was fifteen. Not that I'm complaining, not that much, I've gotten used to getting by on four or five hours mostly – and it sure helped when I needed to cram during my Yale-years. But I could get used to this – it felt real good to be able to get up this morning and function without a cold shower and too much coffee."

"Good for you. So, how did your day go? You had a couple of important meetings, right?"

"Yes I did." She smiles, looking like a five-year-old at Christmas, and actually squirms with joy in her chair.

"First there was the meeting with Mia, the owner of Independence Inn. Or rather, the former owner. All the papers have been signed, she's been paid… As of 9:32 this morning, and yes, I looked at my watch to get the exact time, I am the owner of the Independence Inn. Well, 'Thrilll' is, but that's just me and Leigh, and she doesn't know anything about it so… I mean, she knows Trix left her some stock and so on, but not any details. She'll find out later.

Anyway, Mia and I have a deal, and the only face the staff will see representing 'Thrilll' for a while will be my lawyer. I'd rather not be their boss for now. I told you about Sookie, yes? The chef, my almost-friend. I want to be her friend, I really do, and I'm afraid that being her boss would disqualify me from being her friend. I'll tell her, some day, but just not yet."

"So you will be keeping the staff then?"

"Well, we're talking professionals here. They are good, in some cases like Sookie even great, and 'good' and 'great' aren't that easy to get. At least not for a small Connecticut-inn. Plus, I'm used to them. They are all personalities, see, and that adds to the charm of the place. Oh, there's this one guy, you'd love him!" Her face lights up again, and she giggles.

"You could probably make a career out of studying him. He's French, totally stuck-up, egotistical, snobbish, but he's got a warm heart – just never tell him he's been found out! He sometimes starts muttering to himself, in French, thinking he's safe. Before I came only Sookie knew any French at all, and if it doesn't belong in the kitchen she doesn't know it – doesn't even want to. So he goes on, you know, like five-minute rants, about everything between heaven and earth. Oh, like yesterday, about how great the cake Sookie force-fed him was, and how he'd love to get a second piece. But, seeing as he's Michel, and as he's always on a diet… No way he'd tell her! Instead he'll bitch and moan, protesting every time she makes him taste as much as a crumb, while secretly loving every bite! One day I'll tell him I speak French, but I'm holding out for a while longer. He's so much fun!

Also, as you know, there was the house-hunting trip. I think I must have seen every available house in Stars Hollow that met my demands, and quite a few that didn't! I can afford a place that's not falling apart, so I want something in repair. Also, I want more than one bedroom – in case I get that family I've talked about, and also so Leigh can have a room at my place… Plus, I'm spoiled now; I want an office/library at home. Oh, and no flats. Remember I told you about the town selectman? Well, turns out he owns a couple of apartment-buildings and when he found out I was looking… God, it took me half an hour to make him understand I didn't want a flat, and I'm starting to think he only left me alone because he spotted some teenagers kissing in the square – totally outrageous behavior that."

She winks, making him smile.

"But there were a couple of places… There was this one house, totally not what I wanted, but it gave me this strange feeling… You know, déjà vu, like I somehow belonged there. It was way too run down, plus I'd like something a little bigger, but still. And the couple next door seemed nice, even if they had gone a little over the top with the garden gnomes. And another house, well, I kind of got the same feeling there. Like I was supposed to live there, have children there, have a life and a husband there, in exactly that house. It's not for sale though, and won't be unless the owner dies. The real-estate agent told me not to get my hopes up on that account though, seeing as he'd just recovered from his last attempt. Apparently, every now and then he's on his 'death-bed', only to recover after a few days. Probably just bored. Still, I'm going back tomorrow, on my own, to look at three of the houses. I expect to be done sometime next week. Then I can put Trix' house on the market. I want to get on with that as soon as possible, get settled in my own place… My own place. Sounds great, I can hardly wait."

He looks at her, thinking that it might be time to move on.

"Lorelai? Tell me about your daughter? Tell me about Leigh, what's she like?"

Her entire face lights up, her eyes shine and she smiles – a genuine, happy smile that transforms her from a lovely woman to a truly beautiful one.

"Leigh… She's wonderful. She's really smart you know, always at the top of her class – always in first or second – and talented. She wants to go into journalism, be an overseas correspondent, 'the next Christiane Amanpour'. But that's a few years ahead; after all she's only thirteen. There's high school, and then college – seeing as she's a Gilmore dad's determined that she'll go to Yale, but I know it's not going to be that easy. My fault, partially." She smiles again, a wicked pleased smile.

"See, last year I gave her all these brochures for colleges and universities, all the Ivy League ones and some great ones abroad, and that got her thinking. She's mentioned going to Sorbonne for a year, and she actually started preparing by studying her French. If she does go I might join her – there's the inn close by, and it could use some personal handling. But that's at least five years from now, so we'll see. But I'm happy that she's thinking for herself, not just doing things to make mom and dad happy, or – like I did – to piss them off.

Ehm, she reads a lot, and I do mean a lot, like her room's covered in bookcases, and where Leigh is there's always a book nearby. And I'm not talking typical kiddie books, or girlie ones, no, last time I saw her she was going through 'Anna Karenina'. Oh, and apart from books there's music and movies… She's not really the kind of girl that spends a lot of time with other girls, but there's this one girl she's really close with. Paris – funny, huh?" She giggles a little, and he smiles as well – also catching the Sorbonne-reference.

"Anyway, Paris and Leigh are totally opposite personalities – mostly. Paris is high-strung, absolutely compulsive, honestly more than a little scary and totally obsessed with going to Harvard – she's not even in high school yet and the girl's already practicing her application essay and gathering 'points' by volunteering and such. Leigh, meanwhile, is soft-spoken, can hardly be mean to save her own soul and is a little more easygoing. Sure, she wants to get into college too, but not like that. They make a great team, though, especially since after Paris has scared some kid to tears Leigh can always make good and get the person to perform at a top level anyway. Also they bring out the best in each other when it comes to school – those times when Leigh's not in first place it's because Paris beat her to it with like a fraction of a point. And of course the other way around."

Lorelai smiles, and grabs her purse. After searching for a few seconds she pulls out her wallet and flips it open to reveal a photo.

"That's her. Cute kid, right?"

The girl in the picture resembles Lorelai quite a lot, but at the same time there are obvious influences from her father. She's looking happy, sitting with a book – not too surprising, from what Lorelai said – smiling at the camera. Yeah, a cute kid.

"Yes, she is. How do you think she will react if you tell her about all of this?"

"You mean, if I tell her the truth? Honestly, I still don't know. One thing that I do know is that I really can't tell her all the truth. I've decided to keep the fact that dad more or less blackmailed me into giving her up a secret. At least in the beginning. No good will come from her knowing; at least I don't think so. She loves them, just as they love her. No need to ruin that."

"Do you love your parents? I mean, after everything that's happened, do you? And do you think they still love you?"

Tricky questions, he knows, but important ones. He watches her carefully as she sits quiet, thinking, clearly wanting to make sure she answers him correctly.

"Do I still love them? Yes. No matter what. They've hurt me, a lot, but that doesn't change the fact that I love them. I might not always like them, but that's not the same. However, both of those things might change when I talk to them about this… If they love me? I used to think that they did, that no matter what they'd always love me, even if I screwed up big time. But now… I don't know. I haven't felt like they really love me, or approve of me, since the day they found out I was pregnant. Not even being named valedictorian made them act like they were proud of me…" She looks sad, and turns her eyes to the floor.

That's a problem. If she talks to them and they don't agree with her… That could send her over the edge again…

"Do you want to tell Christopher about this?"

"God, no!" She looks up again, her eyes wide and almost terrified.

"Look, Chris… Chris isn't grown up enough for this, still. He'd use the fact that we have a child together to try and get back together, you know. 'But Lorelai, we have a responsibility, we need to be a family.' Meaning that he gets to play house and I get to be responsible. Plus, there's no way Chris could keep this quiet. Absolutely not. He'd open his big mouth and it'd be all over the place in five minutes. No thanks. Just think what that'd do to Leigh, and to my parents… Then all of this, all fourteen years, would be a waste. I'd have gone through all of this for nothing. I mean… I know it's not really fair, him not knowing, but the other ways not fair either. I'd rather be unfair to Chris and keep him in the dark than have him know and blab about it and be unfair to a lot more people. No, if he finds out… That should be Leigh's decision."

"Lorelai? I know this probably isn't something you'd like to think about, but what will you do if your parents refuse to give up? If they fight you on this?"

"Well, I'd rather do this the nice and quiet way, but if they refuse to let me… I'll tell Leigh, no matter what they say, and they can't really stop me you know. After that… Well, it depends on what she says. If she wants to spend more time with me and they won't let us… There's always going to court. Nasty, yes; unpleasant, yes; and totally not how I'd prefer it, but if that's the only way that's how I'll do it. I'm not letting them keep me from so to speak getting back with my daughter, not when I've gotten to this point. I'm sure they won't let it get as far as to court though, because of the scandal, but I could be wrong."

"So how do you want to do this?"

"There's only one way: a direct attack. Just be honest and straightforward, and hope that they see my side of this. I've actually decided to go there tonight, when we're done here – Leigh has meetings with her French club on Fridays, and my parents are usually home alone. No time like the present right?"

Her words are brave, but her smile's weak, showing him just how scared she is. This must be how she looked when all of this started. Well, I guess that's only natural – part of her is still trapped there. My God, I hope this works out. If it does, then she'll finally be able to leave that scared hurt teenager behind. Bit if not, if this backfires… She'll end up in hospital again, or worse.

"I wish you luck, Lorelai, I really do. But, if things should go badly…" He hands her a small business card, one containing all his contact information.

"I'd rather not come here Monday and find out you've been admitted again, okay? You deserve to have this work; you really do, but just in case… In case of an emergency, just call me, okay? My cell phone number is on that card, it will be on. I'll be there."

The smile she rewards him with is brilliant, like a flash of sunlight, and it warms him. The Lorelai Gilmore he first met – only days before – never would have smiled like that. It's a smile, he's certain, that would have surprised Laura Jones greatly.

"Thank you. I promise, I won't turn into some crazy woman and wake you up at three in the morning to talk about my stupid life," she says with a smile and a wink before rising.

"I'll see you Monday then? Great. Have a nice weekend, Dr Marshall."

"The same to you. Good luck, Lorelai, and God bless."

He watches her leave, takes a moment to clear his head, and prays fervently to the almost forgotten God of his childhood that she will be okay. Take care of her, Lord. Walk with her, hold her hand, and give her peace.

To Be Continued

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