Title: Southern Hospitality

Chapter 5: Vacation, All I Ever Wanted…

Disclaimer: Am I still putting these? Oh, look, I am.

A/N: Don't hate me, it's here, leave me alone, I've been busy, and I'm going out of town in a few days, but I'm going to give you one more chapter before I leave, and then I'm going to stop updating only for three weeks. I will continue to write, and the second I get back I will type everything up and give it to you in a pretty silver package with a big pink bow. Or blue, cause I'm not the biggest fan of pink.

Anywho.

I think I'm gonna try to start doing multiple-personality-chapters, to go with my newly-diagnosed disorder. No, not really, but you know what I mean. I promise you will like the story very very much in a matter of chapters, when something that I've been waiting to write for a very long time finally gets put up here.

Title of this chapter is from the Go-Go's song, cause the second I said "Vacation" the song popped into my head.

Ooh, and good news! Pretty soon, we get a trip to Stars Hollow! Oh, those kooky townsfolk.

Anywho, enjoy, review and let me know that you still love me, and I'm writing more as we speak.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rory

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I hand Jess my business card, smile at him, and then leave. Little Brett waves to me as I make my way from the huge front foyer onto the huge porch and eventually hit the sidewalk.

Walking home, I contemplate the day I just had.

Waking up at eleven last night, after eight hours of sleep, I took an hour to get into the city and the office, and was at my desk by ten to midnight. I sat around for eleven hours, typing up a few stories, searching for the 'Lane Rygalski gives birth to first child' story among the entertainment news. Eric and I went to eat at eleven…we spent forever eating, and then I rode back into Decatur to see…Jess.

My phone rings, reminding me of what Jess said about my mother calling. Sure enough, the Caller ID reads Danes, Luke. This means that Mom is in Luke's apartment, which isn't that surprising.

I flip open my phone and the ascending musical scale stops.

"Mom."

"That Brett kid is Jess' daughter."

I sigh. "I know."

"You know?"

"I know."

"Oh…where's her mom?"

"Jess doesn't know."

"Huh." Mom pauses. "So, where are you now?"

"Headed home," I sigh.

"Ooh. What time do you have to be at work?"

"Midnight again."

"Well, that's good for the scheduling, bad for you. You better get right home and get to sleep if you want your eight hours."

"Thanks, Mom." I yawn.

"Okay, well, I love you."

"Love you too." I yawn again.

"Let me know any and all details you learn about Jess."

I roll my eyes. "Goodbye, Mom. Say hi to Susie and Luke for me."

"Can do. Bye, sweetie."

"Bye." I flip the phone shut and slip it back into my briefcase side pocket as I walk into my apartment complex. My building's near the back, but it only takes me a minute to reach it, because I've figured out about twenty shortcuts. I walk into my building, take a quick second to check my mail, and then unlock the door to apartment two.

I throw my briefcase, laptop and purse onto my couch, pour a little more food into the cats' bowl, and wander sleepily into my room. I undress, pet both of my cats—Yin and Yang—behind the ears, and then shove them from my bed. Practically too tired to keep my eyes open, I fall into bed.

And proceed to lay awake for the next seven and a half hours, finally falling into a restless sleep around ten-thirty.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My cell phone wakes me up, doing its utterly annoying ascending scale once again, and I groan and start crawling from my bed, to the living room where I dropped my briefcase. I eventually make it there, and then spend a few more minutes digging for the thing, but I finally find it exactly where I left it last night.

Not bothering to check the caller ID, I flip it open and answer.

"Hello?"

"Gilmore." It's Eric.

Whee! It's Eric!!

"Davis," I say calmly.

"You're late," he says simply. "What's wrong with you? You're never late."

I immediately pull the phone from my ear and check the time on the display. Eight. A.M. As in, eight hours after I'm supposed to be at work.

"Oh, my God!"

"Gilmore," Eric tries to calm me down.

"Oh, my God! I'm late! I've missed my entire eight hours! Oh, my God!"

"Gilmore!" Eric yells. "It's okay. You've missed a total of two days in fourteen months, and you're always working overtime. As a matter of fact, you've got a two-week vacation package you need to use soon. As soon as possible."

I groan. "But—"

"Gilmore. Take two weeks off. Get your schedule back to normal. Now, I've got to work a lot this week, but…I'll call you later this week, and we'll do something. Okay?"

I try to grin, and agree, but another man has crept into my thoughts. "'Kay," is all I can manage to force out. "Uh, I've got to go Davis, 'kay? Bye."

I hang up, quickly, and then start from the apartment.

I'm halfway out the door of the building when I realize that I'm in my pajamas.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's eight-thirty in the morning. I'm a horrible person. I just went out with Eric last night. Or, yesterday afternoon. And now, here I am, pacing in front of Jess' house.

"Argh!" I yell at myself, turning my pacing into stomping, and widening my path two houses down from Jess' on both sides. I'm just reaching the end of the street and turning to head back when his front door opens and Brett spills out, followed by a scolding Jess.

"Come on, kid, we're already late."

"It's your fault!" Brett pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just because I made you brush your teeth does not make it my fault. Get in the car." He pushes her back and she stumbles forward before stomping the rest of the way to the car. She stops at the door, and remains standing stock-still as Jess opens it for her.

"Get in," he sighs.

"No."

"Yes."

"No." Her pout gets wider.

"Yes." He groans and picks her up.

"No!" she screams, flailing her arms and legs around as he tries to stick her in the car.

I take this as my cue to continue my pacing.

He buckles her up and slams the door on her pouting face. As he turns my way, I walk directly past him.

"Rory?" he asks, somewhat disbelievingly.

"Oh! Jess, hi! I totally forgot you live here!" Whoa. Slow down, Elle. He's not Warner, and you're not in Harvard. "Well, not really," I try to rectify the situation, but he ignores me pretty much.

"Don't you have work?"

"Actually…I'm pretty much on vacation. I've got two weeks that run out October first."

"Oh, okay." He nods, and we both stand there awkwardly. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets, and I'm fiddling with my purse. "Uh…you wanna come with us? I have to get to work, and there's no place that'll take Brett, godforsaken little handful that she is."

"Uh, sure." A baby-sitter? I'm a baby-sitter? "I guess."

"Great." His nervous features relax a bit, and he points around the midsize SUV to the passenger side. I nod and walk around to get in. As I'm buckling myself up, he says, "You'll love the place I work. It's this eclectic little bookstore that probably rivals even your collection."

"Oh, and how do you know? Maybe I've amassed many more additions since we've seen each other last."

"I said 'probably'. It rivals mine."

"Well, then, it probably does rival mine."

"Let's stop saying 'rival'."

"Good idea." I nod, and we give an awkward little half-laugh.