AN: Still getting all those pesky plot points out of the way. More L/L from here on out, but I have some setting-up to do in this chapter.

She arrived at the Dragonfly before dawn the next morning, ready to tackle the remaining paint touch-ups before the rest of the staff arrived and got in the way.

Insomnia might have had a thing or two to do with it.

Up before dawn, paint on her skin and in her hair, perched on a ladder that could probably come down at any minute, all she could think about was the last time she had done this.

She had just bought the house, the proudest moment of her life since Rory was born. Unfortunately, the previous owner had covered the kitchen in the ugliest wallpaper ever seen; it contained at least seven shades of pink.

After carefully explaining to Rory the dangers of pink-on-pink (followed by a re-watching of Steel Magnolias), they spent an afternoon picking out just the color they wanted. Rory followed her around the hardware store and they sat together on the bare floor, discussing the merits of every shade of cream. They didn't start painting until nearly midnight (AMC had a Bogart marathon), and Rory finally fell asleep on a dropcloth. Lorelai put a pillow under her head, covered her with a blanket, and collapsed into her own bed upstairs.

She awoke at three in the morning to a strange sensation. Yes, that was Rory's head, right in the middle of her stomach.

"Rory? Hon?" She shook Rory gently.

"mwrmhmph."

"Oh, no, not the pre-coffee sounds. Hon, I need you to wake up so Mommy can breathe."

"Huh?"

Lorelai lifted her head and slid over, making room for both of them. "There you go."

"Mmmm." Rory slipped back into silence, never fully waking up.

They got the living room painted and everything (what little they had) moved in, even the new bed for Rory, the one piece of furniture she'd scraped together the money to buy.

For weeks, she woke up in the middle of the night to find Rory right beside her.

It was just after eight when she heard the first car pull up. Ready for a break, and relieved to have help at last, Lorelai abandoned the touch-ups and stepped out to the porch.

And nearly screamed.

"Jason, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you told me you wouldn't be have a break until Tuesday, and it's Tuesday. So I thought I would stop by and we could pick up our conversation right where we left off."

"There was no conversation, and there's nothing to pick up."

Unconcerned, Jason sat down on the porch steps, placing a paper bag and two cups of coffee beside him. "Take as much time as you need. I'll be here. And I brought breakfast."

"Okay, you've just crossed the line from 'annoying ex-boyfriend' to 'John Malkovich character'."

"I'm not going to cross any lines, Lorelai, and I'm not pushing. I just want the opportunity to make everything up to you."

"There's nothing to make up. It's over."

"Don't close yourself off to the possibility, that's all I'm asking. And, is that a paintbrush?" His voice brightened and he gestured toward the brush in her hand, which she was currently gripping with enough force to leave nail-marks on the wood. "Perfect timing. I'm a wonderful painter. I can help."

"No."

"Just think of me as an exceptionally tall plant. I can help you get some work done."

"No."

"I'll even wear denim. Not something I do often, but for painting, it's a necessity. See, I'm willing to compromise."

Lorelai drew in a breath between clenched teeth, the last of her patience giving way. "I don't care if you can compromise, I don't give a damn what you wear; the only thing I want from you is for you to leave."

"I am not prepared t—"

"I don't care what you're prepared for. It's over, it's done, you sued my family."

"If the only thing you're worried about is the lawsuit—"

"The only thing? How is the lawsuit an 'only' thing?" Lorelai's voice was rising.

"Lorelai—"

"Jason, move on. I have."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm seeing someone else."

For the first time all week, Jason looked as if he'd actually heard what she'd said.

"In two weeks?"

"A lot can change in two weeks."

"In two weeks?"

"You said that already, and yes, in two weeks."

His expression darkened. "How long has this been going on?"

"Don't start. I didn't cheat on you."

"So, what, you just had this guy lined up? Waiting in the wings?"

"It's not like that, it's just something that happened." Lorelai's voice continued to rise.

"In two weeks?"

"I don't have to explain my personal life to you. We broke up. That's what that means."

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes dark with equal parts anger and disappointment. Finally, he dropped his gaze and shook his head.

"I think you're making the wrong decision."

"It's my decision to make."

Still not meeting her eyes, he stoop up slowly and turned to go. "Goodbye, Lorelai."

"Goodbye." Her voice was back to its normal volume, quiet finality in her tone.

Angry as she was, she couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt watching him leave. She made a strangled, frustrated sound, shook her head, and strode back inside.

Her ever-growing to-do list was waiting on the front desk. She considered adding a few entries:

So far this week:

Rory slept with a married man, then ran away from home. My parents are separated. I am dating Luke, and the only person who knows about it is my ex-boyfriend-turned-stalker.

Well, that settled it; she had officially entered a parallel universe. She knew she should have watched more science fiction on movie nights. She added a note to the bottom:

42. Search the video store for anything by Rod Sterling.

"Lorelai, where did all the worker bees go?"

"No, Sookie, don't tell me."

"None of them. Not one."

"All of those people you interviewed, and none of them worked out?"

"We hired the last seven good kitchen staff in Connecticut."

"I'm going to kill Michel."

"You know, this would be easier if we fired him."

"I've thought about that three times this morning." She glanced around the large, empty kitchen. "None of them?"

"None."

"Any chance of Derek growing extra arms?"

"Already tried."

"Davey's still too young?"

"Jackson thinks he should walk before we trust him with knives."

"Damn. Well, it's settled then, I'll have to help."

Sookie doubled over with giggles. "Okay, it will never get that bad."

Lorelai smiled. "Good to hear. Hey, have you got any of that amazing cake left?"

"Refrigerator. Help yourself."

Lorelai decided to skip the cutting-and-serving process and finish the whole thing off with a fork. Sookie watched her a moment, eyes widening, then stepped closer.

"Lorelai?" She dropped her voice. "Is something going on? I haven't seen Rory anywhere."

Lorelai froze mid-bite. She knew this was coming, and still had no plan for dealing with it. She finished off the mouthful and put down the cake.

"You're putting down the cake. Don't do that."

Lorelai leaned back and braced her arms against the counter. "She went to Christopher's."

"What? When?"

"Sometime Saturday night."

"She was here Saturday night."

"She left. We had a fight, and she just left. She didn't say when she's coming back." The tears she'd been holding back for two days were beginning to fall. "She just left."

"Oh, hon." Sookie stepped forward and wrapped Lorelai in a tight hug. "I'm sorry."

They were silent together for a few minutes, and Lorelai pulled away, wiping her cheeks.

"What happened?"

Lorelai shook her head. "Sook, you know I would tell you if I could, but I know Rory doesn't want me to say anything."

"It's serious?"

"Yeah, it's serious."

Sookie was uncharacteristically quiet, eyes focused on the empty counter.

"It just gets harder, doesn't it? The whole being a parent thing?"

She nodded silently. "A lot harder."

The phone rang at three-thirty, and Lorelai barely managed to avoid major injury in getting off the ladder.

"Tom, if this is you, no one else can be sick."

"Mom?"

Lorelai froze. "Rory."

"You said you wanted to know if I got here okay, and I got here okay."

She waited.

"Mom?"

"I'm here." Lorelai hurried to an empty room and closed the door behind her, sinking down on the bed.

"I know I shouldn't have left so quickly, but I just needed to get to someplace where I could hear myself think." Her words were all coming out in a rush.

"I hear downtown Boston's great for that." She tried to keep the bitter edge off her voice, and only partially succeeded.

"I know you were worried, and I'm sorry, but I just needed to do this."

"Worried? Rory, I was terrified. You just left."

"I needed to get away."

"Running away is not going to solve anything."

"My God, I do not need you to lecture me!"

"I'm trying to help you."

"Then help me by letting me do this. Let me get through this my way."

Lorelai closed her eyes, feeling the now-familiar throb behind her temples. "Have you talked to Dean yet?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Okay. So, how's the weather?"

"Mom."

"I'm looking for appropriate subjects to talk about, and this is the only appropriate subject to talk about."

"How's the Inn going?"

"We're swamped." She paused. "Will you be back for the opening on Friday?"

She could hear Rory fidgeting on the other end of the line. "I don't know yet."

Lorelai bit her lip, holding it in. She managed only an, "okay."

"Okay." More pausing. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye."

And Rory disconnected.