Leaves
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Please. Just so I don't disappear under a rock.
Rory sighed, hanging up the phone. She had planned to spend New Year's at home. Her mother was throwing one of her infamous parties, and Rory had been looking forward to it with equal parts excitement and dread. It was sure to be even crazier than the parties Lorelai threw for Rory's birthday each year; Lorelai wouldn't drink anything stronger than coffee at Rory's birthday parties, but that restriction wouldn't apply to her New Year's Eve bash. Rory hoped all the windows would be intact come morning, but she wasn't holding out much hope. Especially now, since she wouldn't be there.
Her grandmother had required - well, technically, requested, but she hadn't taken no for an answer - Rory's presence at her own shindig. Rory had been to her grandparents' parties before. Last year her grandmother had thrown her very own party for Rory's birthday. The adults had outnumbered the children, although her grandmother had thoughtfully invited all of Rory's classmates; it was an unhappy coincidence, and not at all her grandmother's fault, that Rory despised them all.
Rory wasn't quite sure how her grandmother had persuaded her to abandon her mother, her friends, and fun in favour of a night spent at the morgue, but persuade her she had. Rory also wasn't quite sure how her mother would take the news.
"Let me get this straight. You're ditching Dick Clark, the foliage, the pony, and let's not forget me, for a fun-filled time with Hartford's rowdiest middle-aged octogenarians?"
"Have you been underlining words in my dictionary again?"
"No changing the subject, missy. I thought you were looking forward to this." Lorelai frowned, looking hurt.
"I was," Rory answered defensively. "I just couldn't say no. I mean, I did, say no I mean, but. then she started going on about all her friends wanting to see me, and Grandpa being disappointed, and, and I felt like Goneril." Rory paused, gazing off into space. "Well, I would have felt like Goneril if some things had been different--"
"Who's Goneril?" Lorelai interrupted. "One of those Chilton snobs?"
"Close." Rory grimaced. "But that's not the point. Before I knew it, I had agreed. I opened my mouth planning to say 'no,' but I heard 'sure, Grandma.' I'm pathetic."
"Don't beat yourself up. You're not pathetic, you're just pathetically easy to manipulate."
Rory narrowed her eyes at her mother. "Well, I'm thrilled I'm the only one still upset about this. Take a few more pot-shots, you'll feel even better!"
Lorelai leaned over to hug Rory. "Oh, honey. It's not so bad. I mean, you like mom and dad. Scientists will be baffled by this fact for decades, if not centuries, to come, but there it is. And you'll still get to see the pony. In fact, you'll still get to clean up after the pony. So it's not all bad."
Rory pulled away, laughing. "As long as I still get to decorate it I suppose I can deal with the loss. And with Paris."
Lorelai gasped in horror. "Oh, no! Lemon-face is going to be there!"
"Mom," Rory protested.
"Well, she is a sour-puss." Rory opened her mouth, and closed it again, defeated. Lorelai grinned triumphantly. "Well, you can spend the whole night avoiding her like you should studying, or you can enter into the spirit of the New Year."
"Right. The foliage."
"Exactly," Lorelai beamed. "You catch on fast, kid. Turning over a new leaf." She looked around for something leaf-shaped, gave up, and demonstrated with the salt shaker, provoking a bellow from the direction of the kitchen.
"Stop pouring salt all over my counter! Just stop it! She's getting it on the muffins now! I swear to God."
Lorelai slammed the shaker back down, and turned to Rory. "As much fun as we all know Henry is, it might be nice to have another friend at Chilton. You do have a year and a half left. I'm not saying you should serve as handmaiden to the Evil Ones, but ah, having someone to sit with at lunch is a rite of passage. Something all girls must attempt to attain before they can achieve grown-upness."
"I've tried to be friends with Paris, mom-"
Lorelai held up a hand. "I know. I know exactly what you've done. It's possible that Paris is an Evil One, and therefore a lost cause, but I think you should try one more time. At the start of the night, so if that doesn't work, you can try with someone else. You haven't tried with anyone else." Rory opened her mouth to deny the charge, but thought better of it. "One attempt at a friendship does not an effort make. Let's make a deal. At this party you will mingle. You will approach young human beings - live young human beings, the Bennett sisters don't count - and talk to them. If Paris blows you off you will approach someone else, even if you know no one else there. You will throw your coffee on them so they will be forced to notice you. Excluding Paris and her cronies you will do this four times, or until you become so unbearably humiliated you want to climb the Christmas Tree and pretend to be the angel so people will no longer point and laugh, whichever comes last. Deal?"
Rory stared at her mother's outstretched hand, but made no move to take it. "What do I get out of this Monty?"
Lorelai thought for a moment. "This lovely tartan sofa? Okay, I know, we'll keep the pony an extra day."
Rory frowned. "I don't want to keep the pony an extra day. I like ponies; I don't want it to die. I'm already quite worried about its safety in your sole care."
Lorelai pouted. "You'll never let me forget that one time, will you?"
"It was not one-"
"I'll think of something, hold on. Hmm. Hmm. I'll. I'll. do the laundry!"
"I did the laundry two days ago. Desperate times call for desperate measures; it was that or move a pile into the attic."
"Well then, I'll just. I'll. I'll give you all my coffee from Luke's for a whole day! Well, all the coffee you see me getting," she amended.
Rory was impressed. "Wow. You really want this, don't you? You got yourself a deal. Four people."
"And Paris," Lorelai reminded, seizing Rory's hand and pumping it up and down vigorously, before she had a chance to back out.
Rory groaned, but didn't protest. "Fine. I'll see you later, I have to get to Lane's." She hopped off her stool and made her way to the door. "By the way," she called over her shoulder, "you like to wear pink, right?"
"Sure," Lorelai said abstractedly, engrossed in making patterns in the salt. "Although a six-foot angel might draw a little attention." She spun around suddenly, and lunged after Rory. "Wait a second! Pink? What did you waash?"
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to ASP and all those companies. I've spent all my money on Christmas presents anyway.
Pairing: R/T
Feedback: Please. Just so I don't disappear under a rock.
Rory sighed, hanging up the phone. She had planned to spend New Year's at home. Her mother was throwing one of her infamous parties, and Rory had been looking forward to it with equal parts excitement and dread. It was sure to be even crazier than the parties Lorelai threw for Rory's birthday each year; Lorelai wouldn't drink anything stronger than coffee at Rory's birthday parties, but that restriction wouldn't apply to her New Year's Eve bash. Rory hoped all the windows would be intact come morning, but she wasn't holding out much hope. Especially now, since she wouldn't be there.
Her grandmother had required - well, technically, requested, but she hadn't taken no for an answer - Rory's presence at her own shindig. Rory had been to her grandparents' parties before. Last year her grandmother had thrown her very own party for Rory's birthday. The adults had outnumbered the children, although her grandmother had thoughtfully invited all of Rory's classmates; it was an unhappy coincidence, and not at all her grandmother's fault, that Rory despised them all.
Rory wasn't quite sure how her grandmother had persuaded her to abandon her mother, her friends, and fun in favour of a night spent at the morgue, but persuade her she had. Rory also wasn't quite sure how her mother would take the news.
"Let me get this straight. You're ditching Dick Clark, the foliage, the pony, and let's not forget me, for a fun-filled time with Hartford's rowdiest middle-aged octogenarians?"
"Have you been underlining words in my dictionary again?"
"No changing the subject, missy. I thought you were looking forward to this." Lorelai frowned, looking hurt.
"I was," Rory answered defensively. "I just couldn't say no. I mean, I did, say no I mean, but. then she started going on about all her friends wanting to see me, and Grandpa being disappointed, and, and I felt like Goneril." Rory paused, gazing off into space. "Well, I would have felt like Goneril if some things had been different--"
"Who's Goneril?" Lorelai interrupted. "One of those Chilton snobs?"
"Close." Rory grimaced. "But that's not the point. Before I knew it, I had agreed. I opened my mouth planning to say 'no,' but I heard 'sure, Grandma.' I'm pathetic."
"Don't beat yourself up. You're not pathetic, you're just pathetically easy to manipulate."
Rory narrowed her eyes at her mother. "Well, I'm thrilled I'm the only one still upset about this. Take a few more pot-shots, you'll feel even better!"
Lorelai leaned over to hug Rory. "Oh, honey. It's not so bad. I mean, you like mom and dad. Scientists will be baffled by this fact for decades, if not centuries, to come, but there it is. And you'll still get to see the pony. In fact, you'll still get to clean up after the pony. So it's not all bad."
Rory pulled away, laughing. "As long as I still get to decorate it I suppose I can deal with the loss. And with Paris."
Lorelai gasped in horror. "Oh, no! Lemon-face is going to be there!"
"Mom," Rory protested.
"Well, she is a sour-puss." Rory opened her mouth, and closed it again, defeated. Lorelai grinned triumphantly. "Well, you can spend the whole night avoiding her like you should studying, or you can enter into the spirit of the New Year."
"Right. The foliage."
"Exactly," Lorelai beamed. "You catch on fast, kid. Turning over a new leaf." She looked around for something leaf-shaped, gave up, and demonstrated with the salt shaker, provoking a bellow from the direction of the kitchen.
"Stop pouring salt all over my counter! Just stop it! She's getting it on the muffins now! I swear to God."
Lorelai slammed the shaker back down, and turned to Rory. "As much fun as we all know Henry is, it might be nice to have another friend at Chilton. You do have a year and a half left. I'm not saying you should serve as handmaiden to the Evil Ones, but ah, having someone to sit with at lunch is a rite of passage. Something all girls must attempt to attain before they can achieve grown-upness."
"I've tried to be friends with Paris, mom-"
Lorelai held up a hand. "I know. I know exactly what you've done. It's possible that Paris is an Evil One, and therefore a lost cause, but I think you should try one more time. At the start of the night, so if that doesn't work, you can try with someone else. You haven't tried with anyone else." Rory opened her mouth to deny the charge, but thought better of it. "One attempt at a friendship does not an effort make. Let's make a deal. At this party you will mingle. You will approach young human beings - live young human beings, the Bennett sisters don't count - and talk to them. If Paris blows you off you will approach someone else, even if you know no one else there. You will throw your coffee on them so they will be forced to notice you. Excluding Paris and her cronies you will do this four times, or until you become so unbearably humiliated you want to climb the Christmas Tree and pretend to be the angel so people will no longer point and laugh, whichever comes last. Deal?"
Rory stared at her mother's outstretched hand, but made no move to take it. "What do I get out of this Monty?"
Lorelai thought for a moment. "This lovely tartan sofa? Okay, I know, we'll keep the pony an extra day."
Rory frowned. "I don't want to keep the pony an extra day. I like ponies; I don't want it to die. I'm already quite worried about its safety in your sole care."
Lorelai pouted. "You'll never let me forget that one time, will you?"
"It was not one-"
"I'll think of something, hold on. Hmm. Hmm. I'll. I'll. do the laundry!"
"I did the laundry two days ago. Desperate times call for desperate measures; it was that or move a pile into the attic."
"Well then, I'll just. I'll. I'll give you all my coffee from Luke's for a whole day! Well, all the coffee you see me getting," she amended.
Rory was impressed. "Wow. You really want this, don't you? You got yourself a deal. Four people."
"And Paris," Lorelai reminded, seizing Rory's hand and pumping it up and down vigorously, before she had a chance to back out.
Rory groaned, but didn't protest. "Fine. I'll see you later, I have to get to Lane's." She hopped off her stool and made her way to the door. "By the way," she called over her shoulder, "you like to wear pink, right?"
"Sure," Lorelai said abstractedly, engrossed in making patterns in the salt. "Although a six-foot angel might draw a little attention." She spun around suddenly, and lunged after Rory. "Wait a second! Pink? What did you waash?"