A/N: Hope everybody saw the previous piece after the it-posted-but-it-didn't debacle last week! My thanks to those who did see it and did leave a review :) Now, at some point, somebody asked me about Mrs R and including her in at least one of the ficlets in this collection. I apologise for the fact I really can't remember who said that to me, but I always did want to include her somewhere anyway, and also, more Paris was needed, so here we go...

(For disclaimer, etc. - see 1.)

11. Women of the World - 1st September 2014

"Congratulations, Paris. I honestly couldn't be happier for you"

"Geez, Gilmore, dial down the wattage on the smile, you're blinding me," her friend told her, rolling her eyes at the other end of their video chat. "Seriously, anybody would think getting pregnant was such an achievement."

"For some people, it is," Rory reminded her. "We are truly blessed to have our kids, Paris, you know this. Some people try and try and never get lucky."

"Yeah, I know." Paris sighed. "And it's not as if I hate that it happened again, it's just, my God, the incompetence at the hospital the last time, I'm dreading the birth."

Rory didn't even try to answer that one. Nothing she said about the medical profession was going to matter to Paris, because she just knew better. Besides, it was always easier not to have an argument with her, if it could possibly be avoided, because it pretty much never ended well.

"Is Doyle excited?" Rory asked instead.

"Bouncing around like a leprechaun on a sugar high," Paris confirmed, smiling proudly even as she snarked. "Of course, even as intelligent as he is, Jonathan doesn't understand the implications yet. I actually think having the two so close together will be a good thing. It worked for you with Jack and Tori."

"They are pretty close, in age and in a good brother-sister relationship way," Rory confirmed. "Hey, I just realised you called me Gilmore twice in this conversation already. Eight years, Paris," she said, pushing her ring finger into the camera lens. "I have been a Mariano for eight years now."

"God help you."

"Hey!"

"Come on, Mariano," she said with emphasis. "You know I always had a soft spot for your rebel, it's just you'll always be Rory Gilmore to me. Besides, the world at large is going to know you by that name when your amazing journalism career really takes off."

That remark certainly got Rory's attention, as she felt a blush rising in her cheeks. Everybody else had so much faith in her abilities when it came to writing and reporting. It wasn't that Rory didn't know her own strengths in those areas, but it had been a while since she thought seriously about having a real job and career.

Since she graduated from her college courses in June, she had got a little more serious about it. The kids were nine and almost-seven now, they didn't need mothering twenty-four-seven, they were at school five days a week and had friends and other family members they wanted to spend with a not-small part of the time. There was absolutely no reason why she couldn't do more with her life than she currently was, and so, she started trying.

"That piece you sent me about the legalisation of same-sex marriage was some of your best work. It deserved to be seen everywhere."

Rory smiled and thanked her friend, even as she blushed all over again. She knew she had written a good piece and was happy to see it published on the blog she wrote it for. Then suddenly it was getting picked up and reposted, even published in print in a few magazines and papers, until Rory started to feel almost like a household name. It was only one article, of course, but it got her noticed by some people. Her freelance journalism career had gotten off to a really great start.

"I'm actually working on a couple things right now," she explained to Paris then. "A fun pop culture piece about the rise of the comic book movie, and also, the serious effects of ALS juxtaposed against the internet meme craziness of The Ice Bucket Challenge."

It took a lot to impress Paris, it wasn't as if Rory wasn't aware of that, so the fact that she thought these were great subjects and was already certain her friend would make a good job of her articles was really something.

"Of course, it could be that the pregnancy hormones are already kicking in and making her nicer than usual," Rory mused when she told Mrs Rossini about it later that day.

"No, no. Paris, she is a nice girl," Mrs R said definitely, as she poured out coffee for herself and Rory. "She speaks her mind, that is no bad thing, but you know she loves you like a sister would."

There was no way Rory could deny that was true. She had gotten pretty lucky when it came to her family and not just the blood-related people either.

"I think you're going to have a wonderful career, passerotta," said Mrs R then, handing her young friend a cup. "I admit, I do not know much about these things you write about, but you have such a mind, such a way of talking, I know you must write the same way. Molto bene," she said definitely.

"Thank you, Mrs R." Rory smiled. "Honestly, I'm getting so much praise, everyone has so much confidence in me."

"And for good reason! You are a special talent, but you don't let it go to your head, and that is important too."

"I just hope I can balance everything. I mean, yes, I do have more time now that Jack and Tori are both in school all the time, and they don't need me 24/7 even when they're home, but I really don't want them to feel neglected or anything if I have to work while they're around."

"You will manage," Mrs R told her definitely. "I cannot give the advice on this since I didn't have the children or the career, but this is something you can look to your mother for. Lorelai, she has done amazing things, raising you and educating herself and keeping a job. Did you ever feel neglected?"

"Not once," said Rory, shaking her head. "Mom was always there for me."

"And you will continue to be there for your children too," her friend said with certainty, taking a drink from her coffee cup. "You know, I probably should've had some career in my life. After my Gennaro passed away, I knew that family was never going to be for me, not with another. Of course, I came by children and grandchildren another way," she said, smiling fondly at Rory then. "Since I always expected to be wife and mother when I was young, I had no real plans for work. I am boring old woman, I never had ambitions at all."

"You never once had a dream job that you really wanted to do?" asked Rory curiously.

She knew Mrs Rossini had lived a pretty quiet life, or as quiet as it could be in New York City, but she had just assumed that any plans she might've had just went awry. That was sad enough, but to think she never even had a dream in the first place seemed worse somehow, at least to Rory anyway.

"I did plenty of fine jobs," Mrs R told her happily. "I waited on tables, cleaned houses, took good care of bambinos. I did all kinds of things. I even taught a little piano for a while."

"Huh. I didn't know you could play."

"Oh, not anymore," her friend explained, showing Rory one of her hands that was a little bent out of shape. "These hands would not manage, and even when I was young, I was amateur only, but enough to teach the children their basics. I could not have been in a concert hall, but as I tell you, I never had that dream, not any dream for working. I made enough money to get by, that was all."

Rory wished she knew what to say to that. She felt so sorry for Mrs Rossini, knowing she never got the big career or the family either. Still, it was tough to feel genuinely sad for somebody who always seemed so happy. Perhaps it was wrong to judge Mrs R's life based on her own goals and ambitions. Rory was used to people like her mom and Paris who really wanted big things out of life. It hadn't entirely occurred to her that some people could be happy with less.

"Do not look so sad for me, bella," Mrs R insisted, patting Rory's hand. "You know, I have lived eighty-nine years on this earth so far and I can speak honestly when I say I do not regret one single day of any of those years" she promised, smiling widely. "I have had my hardships, but who has not had these? Sometimes, I wonder how life would be if my Gennaro had come home to me. I could have had a daughter, a son, grandchildren of my own. I could have kept a nice house and grown old with my love at my side. Ah, it is a pretty picture to make in my head, but when that dream died with him, I just lived my little life alone," she said, shrugging her old shoulders. "But you see, Rory, in the end, I got my dream, or some part of it. For years now, I have you and Jess, and your mamma and Luke, and all the children. So much family, so much to keep me busy and happy. I can have no regrets."

There were tears in Rory's eyes as she grabbed onto Mrs R's hand and squeezed it.

"I love that you're part of our family," she said definitely. "You know, you are as much of an inspiration to me as my mom or my grandma or Sookie or Lane or Paris. I have so many good, strong, female role models, but you are right up there on the list, Mrs R."

"Then I am flattered to be in such good company," her friend told her, smiling widely.

She got up to clear away the coffee things then, taking the tray through to the kitchen. Rory barely noticed the going of her, until she heard Mrs R call that she would do the dishes before she went home. Getting up to follow her, Rory stood in the kitchen doorway, staring hard at her friend for a moment.

"You know, you don't have to do that," she said eventually.

"Hush, now," Mrs R shushed her. "You know I do not like to be so idle."

The remark made Rory laugh out loud, though her hand went immediately to her mouth to cover the outburst. It was true enough, what Mrs R said. Though she had no family of her own and no career to speak of, she had certainly never been idle. She was so alive and full of energy, even at the age of almost ninety. She loved every member of Rory and Jess' sprawling family tree as if they were her own and was undoubtedly one of the most impressive, amazing women that Rory had ever met.

"Mrs Rossini, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, bella. What is it?" she asked, drying her hands off on a dishtowel.

Rory took a deep breath and then spoke. "Would you mind if I wrote an article about you and your life?"

She expected her to say no at first, or rather to ask why Rory would want to write about her and more over, who on earth would want to read such a thing. She had her answers ready somehow, even though the thought to do this had only occurred to her somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. Still, she made her arguments well, as Rory always did, and after a few minutes, Mrs R heaved out a sigh.

"Well, if you are sure," she declared, "I would be honoured to have you write about me."

There was no doubt in Rory's mind, as she smiled and hugged her friend, thanking her for the opportunity, that it would be one of the best and most interesting articles of her burgeoning career.