Disclaimer: Amy and Daniel Palladino, along with the rest of the WB, own Gilmore Girls. I'm just borrowing the characters. Foo Fighters own "Doll."
A/N: Another one-shot. I got bored. This is what math class brings, haha. It's kinda more random than my others… Yeah. Hope you like it! Coz I had lots of fun writing it! It's my first R rating though… there's nothing too bad, just a lot of cursing and I didn't want to offend anybody. So, yeah. Ta da!
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Colin opened an eye. So much for a peaceful afternoon nap. The sound echoed off the walls to assault his ears. Then again, this was probably his punishment for thinking that he could just laze around. Lazing was boring, too ordinary for their tastes. It could be good, fun for some, but not for them. They needed excitement, the adrenaline. And excitement was most definitely happening.
They were at it again, and not in the sexy way. They were certainly an argumentative couple. Something would happen-most likely his fault- she would confront him about it, and it would end with her screaming and him cursing. For a mousy thing, she sure could yell with the best of them.
This time was no different. Each of their voices got louder, as if in some sort of strange contest to see if they could top the others shrieking. Colin knew he shouldn't have been listening, but it was like a train wreck- deadly and morbidly fascinating.
Then the door opened, and for the first time in his life, Colin wished he were a fly on the wall instead of a person on the couch. But they barely noticed him.
"You arrogant bastard!" she screamed, gathering her things.
"You selfish bitch!" he yelled back.
"I'm leaving!"
"Good!"
"Great!"
"Fuckin' fabulous! I hate you!"
"I hate you more!" With that, Rory stormed out, slamming the door behind her so hard that it shook the rafters, silently thanking her mom that the trait of stubbornness held up. She knew it wasn't Finn's fault, all innocent in reality-though she'd never go so far as to admit that gem- but she couldn't let him know that yet.
Finn kicked the wall in frustration. "What?" he snapped at Colin, whom he'd just noticed.
Colin held up his hands in surrender. "Innocent bystander."
Finn sighed and sat down. "When did our fights get so clichéd?"
"After the five hundredth one, I suppose, though I could be off a bit," Colin joked. "Maybe you should try arguing in new places, spice things up a bit."
Finn put a hand to his heart. "You're an asshole and you wound me. Do you not want to bask in this magically spiteful relationship between the gorgeous, witty- not to mention fiery- Rory Gilmore and I?"
"As fun as that would be, I have better things to do with my time than listen to you two verbally rip into each other, picking apart your weakness and flaws, loudly exposing them for everyone to hear," Colin assured his friend.
Finn clicked his tongue. "Quite a picture you paint, mate. You and your minor in classical British literature. Rub it in, why don't you?"
Colin smirked. "It's a terrible travesty that I can weave my words into poetry when necessary, isn't it?"
"And you're saying I can't?" Finn asked innocently, knowing that though Colin could spin a web of enticing words, he was the more charming of the two.
"You did woo the lovely Rory Gilmore, the one whom you claim to hate with such viciousness that it can only be false."
Finn closed his eyes and lolled his head against the back of the couch. "I hear the pub calling my name."
Colin looked at his watch. "At 4:30 in the afternoon? It sure is getting desperate."
"4:30?" Finn asked. Colin nodded in affirmative. "4:30? 4:30! That means in half an hour it shall be five!"
"Any other pearls of wisdom you care to share?" Colin said sarcastically.
"Happy hour, jackass," Finn replied, as if it were the most obvious thing. "We gotta get a good seat."
"Even if it is half an hour until happy hour, isn't it a little early to be going to the pub?"
"It's never too early to get shit-faced after a particularly nasty row with one's girlfriend!" Finn declared, standing up quickly. He grabbed his head in his hands and moaned. "Head rush."
"I'll call Logan," Colin muttered.
"I do not feel that dear Logan would understand my plight."
Colin rolled his eyes. "He's not still mad at you."
"And you know this for certain?"
"Can I just call him now?"
Finn waved his hand. "Don't let me stop you."
Colin punched his friend in the arm and picked up his cell phone. "Logan? Hey, what're you doing?"
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"So are you going to tell us what happened this time, or will it the one secret you and Rory have until the end of time?" Colin dead-panned.
As Happy Hour was over, and Finn was drunk, Logan and Colin figured that now was as good a time as any to pry personal information from their Australian friend. He had loose lips when intoxicated.
"I think I was flirting with another girl, but I'm not sure," Finn slurred. "All I know is that Rory came over, and we got in fights 'bout lots of things."
"He looks about ready to drop," Logan whispered to Colin.
Colin considered this. "Wanna draw stuff on him when he does?"
Logan cast a sideways glance at Finn, who was crumpled on the couch. "Nah. That'd be fun, but look how unhappy he is. Plus, he needs to look presentable when he wakes up so we can go through the plan with him."
"As long as he's sleeping, care to go through the plan with me? Where was I when we made up this plan?"
Logan shrugged. "I haven't told you it yet."
Colin just stared at him. "Obviously. What is the point of this plan?"
"For him to get Rory. Back. Again"
"Oh. Carry on."
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Rory aimlessly walked around the campus thinking about Finn. She couldn't fathom why they fought so much. It was always about stupid, petty things. She couldn't even remember what this one was about, yet she was antagonizing about it. Sure, he drove her crazy, but that was one of things she loved about it. It was part of his charm. He was an optimist at heart, and that influenced everyone around him.
Without noticing it, she had stopped at a lamp post. It flickered and buzzed, bathing everything within a ten foot radius in warm light. She studied it, a memory stirring in her mind. Finn had danced around that pole in a bad tribute to Singin' in the Rain on their second date when it had rained. She remembered laughing as he slipped in a puddle, then playfully splashing him when he pulled her into said puddle.
After staring at the light for a few more seconds, she made up her mind to go back to her dorm. She was getting hungry and had a Philosophy paper due the next day. Who knew, maybe it would take her mind off the fight.
What she found when she got back did no wholly shock her; he did have a key and he was there all the time. He was just sitting on their couch watching TV, the disappointed look on his face saying that he was expecting someone else to have walked through the door.
"Doyle," she acknowledged, sitting down on the couch also.
"Gilmore," he replied.
She looked around the room for any sign of her MIA roommate. "Where's Paris?"
"She went to get the takeout," he answered, his eyes scarcely leaving the screen.
"And she left you here alone?" Rory could barely keep the skepticism out of her voice.
"No," he admitted. "There was a note on the door telling me to let myself in."
"Oh." The uncomfortable silence set in as Rory turned her attention to the TV, her duties as small talk-concierge seemingly fulfilled. It was deafeningly painful, killing her as the seconds ticked by. "Why are you watching a Spanish soap opera?" she had to ask finally.
"The editor at the Crimson knows four different languages," Doyle explained.
"That explains it all," Rory understood, her voice laced with a subtle sarcasm.
The uncomfortable silence came back stronger than ever, mocking their awkwardness with each other. Luckily, they barely ever had times like that one; Paris or the rest of the staff of the Daily News was there to keep it from happening too often.
"Is this weird for you, too?" Doyle asked abruptly.
Rory sagged in relief knowing that she wasn't the only one feeling ill at ease. "Yes." She got up. "I'm going to go finish my paper."
"And what about your article?"
"How about we discuss that tomorrow at the newsroom?" she suggested, really hating times like that when her editor was also her roommate's boyfriend.
"Sounds good. Do you want us to let you know when the food gets here?"
"Please," she replied automatically; turning down food was a grievous crime to commit in the Gilmore Handbook.
Rory took out her books but didn't open them. Finn was still on her mind. He always had a way of cheering her up in times like this; it was a gift of his that he had no problems using. But did she want to be cheered up this time? Forgive him? Could she?
She pushed the thoughts out of her head, disgusted with herself. Of course she could. He was Finn, her Finn, her wonderful boyfriend. He was her Finn who brought her flowers to the newsroom because he thought her desk looked too dreary for her, or her Finn who text messaged her during class because he missed her, even if he had seen her only fifteen minutes before. He madder her smile, and calmed her down when she was freaking. Besides, they loved each other. They might not have said it aloud-not yet, anyway- but deep down, they both knew it was true on some level, no matter how remote.
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It felt as though his head was systematically being drilled into by construction workers wielding heavy objects. Still. No matter how many Advil he had taken nor how many times he'd thrown up, it hadn't gone away. Finn moaned and put a hand to the ice pack on his forehead.
Colin laughed not for the first time. "You have all the finesse of a rabid hippo."
"Fuck you, mate."
"You tried to last night," Logan informed him.
Colin struck a pose. "That is because I ooze sexiness. Who wouldn't want to?"
Finn smirked. "Juliet."
Colin stuck his lower lip out comically in a pseudo-pouting manner. "Go to hell."
"If that was a disparaging remark directed at me due to the nature of my condition, I resent it," Finn replied.
"Speaking of the nature of your condition, you still haven't told us what caused it," Logan casually said.
"Not that we don't mind you drunk-the interpretive dance to 'Lola' was particularly amusing- however, in all our years together, neither Logan nor I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you get utterly wasted because you were depressed," Colin added.
Logan sighed. "Love is a fickle thing, a mystery beyond any one person's comprehension."
"Love?" Finn echoed. "Are you sure you're not the bloody drunks here?"
"Denial," Colin chirped. "Classic for any commit-a-phobic."
"So your Jung now?" Finn replied sarcastically. After a beat, he added, "And I'm not a goddamn commit-a-phobe."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Really? So those fights we're always witnessing are what? A weird form of sex we've never seen?"
Finn glared. "I don't love her."
"It's ok, she has that effect on people," Logan assured him.
"Did you love her?" Finn challenged.
"No, but we only went out for four months," Logan admitted.
"But you've been going out for five months," Colin continued to Finn. "That's your longest relationship ever."
"What is with you two?" Finn questioned curiously. "Your new, profound understanding of love? The sudden interest in my relationship with Rory? Like you two are any better: Logan is more of a bloody commit-a-phobe than me, and Colin, you hate almost everybody!"
Colin wrinkled his nose. "My disgust of the human race has nothing to do with this."
Logan waved his hand, dismissing Colin's previous statement. "But this has nothing to do with what we're getting at."
"Then, good sir, pray tell- what the hell are you getting at?" Finn inquired in his most polite, and most fake, voice.
"What we're getting at, kind gentleman," Logan answered, using the same tone Finn had been using, "Is that you need to realize that you're ass-backwards in love with Rory Gilmore, and you need to tell her this before your relationship with her is-to put it nicely- fucked."
Finn's eyes darted back and forth between Colin and Logan, who were just sitting on either side of him, looking at him as though he were a child getting a "sympathetic" lecture. "Have you two figjams been hanging out with Stephanie's roommate and her special cooking again?"
Colin glowered at Finn. "You promised to stop using that word."
Finn, however, just stared at his friends as though he'd just seen them for the first time. "You two twits are troppo." With that he got up and went to his room.
Logan sighed and took Finn's vacated spot. "That went well."
Colin smirked. "5, 4, 3, 2-"
He was cut off by Finn, who had just come out of his room. He slammed the door behind him, pausing in his stride out of the dorm to scowl at Logan and Colin. "I hate your bloody guts."
Logan got up and put a piece of paper in his hand. "It's just a suggestion."
Finn stared down at the paper. "And you can't tell me it to my face?"
"You might punch me."
"Touché, good man. In fact, I'm having trouble not doing that right now."
"Have fun!" Colin called mockingly to Finn's retreating back. His friend just turned around and flipped him the bird. Colin laughed and after Finn was gone, asked, "How long do you think it would've taken him to realize this if we hadn't interfered?"
"Oh, I'd say about six or seven months after they'd broken up."
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Rory was ready to collapse. Her dorm was only a few steps away, but it felt like an eternity before she finally entered it. She wanted to go out to lunch, and hoped Paris would be just as obliging. However, the other girl did have strange eating habits, constantly going on diets or trying to eat at different times to get the "feel" of other cultures.
"Paris?" she called, dropping her things on the ground. Her roommate did not answer. It was strange, but Rory barely paid any attention to it. Instead, her gaze was focused on the table. Arranged in precise order, there were almost fifteen cups of coffee. But they weren't arranged in any order, no, they were arranged in the shape of a heart.
The rest of the room seemed to brighten and then fade away as she walked to her room. It was almost like swimming as she carefully turned the knob. Finn was lounging on her bed, almost haphazardly, reading a book. Completely nude. Her eyes widened, half in amusement and half in surprise.
He looked up at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Hello, darling. I trust you understood my message?"
"You- you, it's true? Really?" Words seemed to be failing her, nothing sounding good as she racked her brain for something charming or witty to say.
"Really really," he purred, getting up and strolling over to her. He removed her jacket, kissing her neck. In one swift move, he picked her up and walked over to the bed. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, his tongue darting out to lick her earlobe.
"Finn," she sighed. "I love you, too."
"Argument over?"
"I'm going to guess so."
"Good. I hate fighting. Bloody useless. Only good for one thing."
She giggled. "And what would that be?"
He kissed her nose. "The make up sex, of course."
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Finn had a huge grin as he walked back into his dorm. It was sometime later, almost time for dinner. All he was doing was coming back to change, then he was taking Rory out. It was a time to celebrate at a fancy restaurant, followed by desert.
Logan looked at him expectantly. He was the only person there. "How'd it go?"
"Where's Colin?" Finn asked, ignoring Logan's question.
"I asked you first."
"And I'm more important, so you answer."
Logan sighed. "At Stephanie's. Juliet is there, so he mysteriously had to go over there to get something."
"It's fun to see him suffer," Finn commented off-handedly.
"Funny, we say the same thing about you."
Finn laughed and gave Logan a kiss on the lips. "Mate, I love you."
Logan barely paid attention to Finn's sign of affection toward him, used to it by now. "You say it to one person and now you can suddenly shout it out on the top of a fucking roof to anyone who'll listen?"
Finn paused. "Pretty much."
Logan rolled his eyes. "So, how'd it go?"
"Bloody fabulous. By the way," Finn took a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and threw it at Logan. "Your suggestion sucked, I went with my own."
