A/N: yeah, second chapter- had to edit it! there was a much longer A/N on the first one, but i lost it. damn. so, basically: KUDOS! to all you who reviewed. tell me if you like this. i hope you do, i spent a LOT of time writing it this week...i honestly dont have as much confidence in it as i did the first chappie but you guys (err...like, 3 people) wanted a second chapter. so, ill keep writing as long as the reviews/ enthusiasm continues.

I'm sending your kudos via express mail as i speak!

Disclaimer: i do not own Gilmore Girls or any characters affiliated with it.

"What kind of flowers?" an extremely excited Sookie began to prattle.

"Sookie…" An annoyed smile was still erected around her lips. She was humoring her friend. Shut up, Sookie, shut up shut up shut up. I don't need this right now. Please.

"Ooh, roses. You both seem like rose-types of people don't you? But they're so expensive. But pretty. And we're definitely not going fake. Only cheapos have fake flowers, and you got to stay real for weddings... bar mitzvahs, maybe, I would understand if the family works at a toothpaste factory, like in Willy Wonka although obviously they're not Jewish… that was just a bad example… There's got to be beauty. Real beauty. Fake flowers does not equal real beauty. They're cheaper when they're seeds, so Jackson could probably-"

"Sookie." A grimace now.

"- grow his own. I hope there's enough time. How long does it take to grow roses? And, oh, boy! You're having it at the inn, right? Obviously. I mean-" (enthusiastic chuckle) "-what kind of inn-owner has a wedding that's not at the inn she owns? Or he owns? Plus the Dragonfly's perfect…Ooh, we should probably start off with something light, elegant, romantic- like quiche? Maybe that's too vegan-esque for you, god knows you'll wrangle something deep-fried into the menu. And espresso-bean-covered. If we wanted to go cutesy-easy-barbecue-y we could play up the fact that Luke owns a diner and you are addicted to coffee but that's not exactly classy…and you are classy. But also cutesy. Cutesy, classy. Cutesy, cutesy, classy. Cutesy? Classy? Cu-"

Lorelai twirled around, eyes flashing. "Sookie! I realize you are trying to out-annoy Michel in the Guinness Book of World Record's coveted 'Most Obnoxious Inn-worker to Ever Speak More Than a Harry Potter Book's Worth of Words Without Making Said Owner of Inn Stick Her Ears into Electrical Sockets' award, and I must say you have got the judges excited and sending your name to the presses as of this moment, but it is 6:30 in the morning. You have breakfast to cook for about one hundred people who are likely to be up in about half an hour if the early-morning historical tour of Stars Hollow is anything like the pamphlets we sent out last night promised, and they will be hungry," Lorelai said, very, very quickly, in one breath, looking extremely disgruntled. She felt bad immediately after she'd said it- but she did feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction in watching Sookie's face fall throughout the speech. And then guilty, remembering her "I am selfish" speech from the other night. I am MEAN! Need coffee. Now.

"Woah, you're crabby," Sookie said, a little disappointed that Lorelai didn't exactly share in her enthusiasm.

"Yeah, well, having your best friend literally jump on you at four in the morning in an effort to wake you up for an 'Inn emergency' when there is, in fact, no 'Inn emergency' can do that to you," she said, and began walking toward the reception desk. Seeing no annoying, cynical French man present and working, she sighed. "God, where is he? Not like God would know. Stupid Michel, the one time you actually need him to be here, he isn't," she added under her breath. Sookie ignored her instructions to start cooking and followed her instead, trying to keep up with her pace.

"But, honey, you're getting married. To Luke. Luke is a great guy. He loves you. He said so himself. And apparently you love him- or at least that's what proposing to him implies. You should be happy." Lorelai sighed.

"We're not officially getting married. I mean, I asked him, I rambled about my shoes, he told me he loved me, we embraced briefly, I left. There was no…conclusion. He wasn't clear on the 'yes or no' part. It may have been implied but- I didn't ask. Didn't want to ruin the moment. Very romance novel, but not exactly straightforward. Was saying he loved me like saying yes? Was…he just trying to stop me talking? I wouldn't be surprised, honestly, if that was it. It's definitely a more novel approach than what's been done in the past to get me to shut up- subtle. Definitely a favorite over what my mother does." She paused in the entranceway to inspect the Welcome mat. She started to shake it out.

"And what does your mother do?"

"Oh, it's simple. She just ignores me, and if that doesn't work, she touches upon her favorite 'let's be cruel to Lorelai' topics- the fact I got pregnant at sixteen, the state of my hair at the moment…The fact I never got to use my super-expensive coming-out dress because I got pregnant at sixteen…" She got back to the Reception area and paced around the table, walking faster, getting louder. "Jeez, Michel, you bother to call Sookie at three thirty in the morning because you think the freaking inn is being robbed- when it isn't, I might add- but you don't bother to stick around to tell us what happened? Peachy. Really, that's just fabulous. A beautiful cherry on top of a really creamy, yummy week."

Compulsively, she began to move things on the reception desk. The Dragonfly brochures, which were at least half a degree away from being completely parallel to the Welcome to Stars Hollow! (the exclamation points were Taylor's doing) brochures, were immediately restacked and repositioned. The swivel chair was pushed in. When she actually began to dust the desk with her (new) coat sleeve, Sookie pulled her away. "Honey, what's wrong?" Lorelai fought against the relatively short Sookie as if trying to break away from her surprisingly George-of-the-Jungle-like grip.

"You mean other than the fact our janitorial staff doesn't know how to dust? What, exactly, is so hard about it? You take the fuzzy duster thing, you move your arm around, and voila. Of course, if you want to get really into it, you can spray Lysol on whatever your dusting and waste, what? Like, a half-calorie just pushing down on the spray-nozzle-majigger and oh, maybe another third of a calorie releasing the pressure. And- look!- the desk is all streaky! I hate it when people dust and it gets all streaky!"

"Lorelai, come. Sit." Sookie grabbed her arm and, despite a violently protesting Lorelai, walked her over to the couch in the lobby. "I'm not going to let you go. If necessary I'll get Juan over here and I think you've already seen the size of his biceps. Now. Tell me what is wrong. 'Cause frankly you've been acting like a bitch since well, actually, the past two days. I don't understand why you're not happy. You've just proposed to someone you loved and he most definitely did not say no." Sookie looked worriedly at her face, which looked sad and mad at the same time. "You look really smad. I'm usually the one who looks smad. Is it Luke? Did something else happen?"

Lorelai shook her head.

"Then Emily."

No response.

"And Richard?"

No response.

"Lorelai…" she paused a moment, then sighed. "Tell me when you're ready, then. I mean, you wake up this morning at four- yes, because I jumped on you but you know how convincing Michel sounds on the phone, especially when he's really freaked out- and you've got this strange look on your face. Finally, after using my very best interrogation skills you tell me you proposed to Luke last night and I just get really caught up in that- and, oh god, blab about flowers and quiche for about an hour- while you look more and more annoyed- and I- just don't know."

Lorelai's facial expression softened slightly.

"I'm sorry for comparing your annoying-ness with Michel. You're not annoying, Sookie. Just enthusiastic. And loving. And nutty. It's why we love you."

"Yes, I know." She smiled.

"Do you think- do you mind- if I go out for a few hours? There's something I really need to do."

"It's fine. I've got everything under control. Now, I really need to start breakfast." Sookie stood up.

"Finally, a point hits home…" Lorelai stood up too and smiled weakly.

What am I doing here? She asked herself. The effort to get any real answer out of herself was futile. All she knew was that she should be happy right now, and she wasn't, and Rory had something to do with it. Had a lot to do with it. She needed closure or just- something. An answer or reasonable explanation to the horrible mess Rory had just pulled her in to. She hadn't actually spoken to Rory since their fight in Weston's and hadn't actually seen her since those seconds at about seven last night. Through the windows of her new "home." She could remember thinking: twenty years of almost completely perfect angelic behavior, and now this. It was like all those missed chances of doing idiotic things actually built up somewhere and felt the need to rear their ugly heads at the most pivotal points in Rory's life. Almost exactly a year ago when- (wince)- she slept with Dean. And now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And Lorelai knew she had nothing to do with it. It was all Rory.

Which made it harder, in a way, to face- that her perfect, smart, beautiful daughter was gullible and naïve enough to believe so absolutely in what an almost stranger had told her. Apparently, twenty years of raising Rory- being her best friend- making countless sacrifices on her behalf, just so she could have this future- not to mention actually conceiving/ giving birth to her didn't make her opinion valid- but being the father of her snob boyfriend and the sleazy, ass-hole boss of about half the newspapers in the country suddenly gave him the authority to tell her what to do. Lorelai had always been her role model- the person she came to for advice. The one person she seeked true approval from. They had been strongly bonded over time. Their relationship was role-defying. It was what made life worth it for Lorelai. It had been taken away, now. What had made her daughter change? Rory's eyes, once at least partially sure of themselves, were hopeless. They said to the world, I am useless because someone told me I was. It was in her smile, her voice, the way she walked and acted- the strength her mother gave her now extinguished.

Confused, depressed, and ultimately pissed off, Lorelai sat in her parked Jeep in her mother's driveway for nearly half an hour. She let herself remain numb for the first five minutes, keeping both eyes opened at slits so she could see if Emily ever happened in the kitchen and peered out the window. Unlikely. She saw the portly new maid open the front door for a time to sweep something out, but she didn't notice the Jeep. She watched as two crows trotted up and down the walkway, converging briefly, then flying up again. She thought of Chilton- even before then. Kindergarten. Preschool. She'd always wanted one thing- it had never, ever changed. To be a journalist. She'd wanted to travel the world. She'd always known. Always had that "it's exhilarating and hard but I love it" face when she went to school- even Yale. Her whole life had been centered around one goal. How did you go from that to this in one day? Because of one sentence? How can a mean phrase make you dump your morals, your integrity- your mother and your best friend in the whole world. Dreaming of writing in Europe reporting some peace scandal in one of the best schools in the world to eating frosted flakes in your pajamas in your grandparent's pool house. It was mid-morning at this point, and she really wished she'd come at night. Her mother, no doubt, would probably have some kind of errand or D.A.R. meeting to go to at some point and her mother was not really a person she wanted to see right now. But it was too late to go back. She was emotionally invested in this, now. Her heart was pulling her in two directions- sympathy and anger.

She gulped half a cup of cold coffee in one breath, threw the empty plastic cup on the seat next to her, and closed her eyes. And sighed. One last sigh before takeoff. It was too late to back out now…she needed help with this. She thought of Luke and smiled- you can convince anyone to do anything.

Come on, now, you can do this. Don't go down to the power of her eyes. Ignore the helpless pleading looks. It was you who taught her that trick anyway- you can do this.

She opened the car door and walked quickly to the pool house's (window-doors? Door-windows?)- she'd always been a bit fuzzy at what they were called.

Peering in through them, she saw Rory still asleep in the bed they'd set up. The room was uncharacteristically messy. There were days of the week underwear on the floor- Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (well, at least they were the right days of the week-so, of all the life lessons she'd taught her daughter over her years, that was the one that stuck?) She made a mental note to share that with Rory- and then reminded herself this wasn't exactly a social visit.

"Um, Rory?" she called, tapping on the unnamed door-like devices (as the window-doors will now be called.)

"Rory? Men with guns are parked outside and I was just going up the driveway so I offered to, you know, do their dirty work- shoot you and take all of your belongings. They may even pay me but I think the pleasure I'll get out of killing you will compensate enough."

Hmmm…maybe a bit too sadistic? Even now, especially now, a men-with-guns bit was uncalled for.

"Hey, Rory! Nice undies!"

Better. Much better! Keep it light. Give her a chance to explain… Give her a chance to back out. Please, Rory, admit you've made a mistake…Please, I really need you to do this for me… God, this kid is a deep sleeper. Did I teach her that, too? Probably.

"Rory, damnit, open your freaking door device thingies!" Lorelai began knocking against the door-devices now, and finally Rory sleepily pushed the covers off of her, revealing the rest of her body in her pajamas with cakes on them (Lorelai could vaguely remember buying them for Rory's fifteenth birthday.) Rory looked to the side, rubbing her eyes, seeming not to notice her mother now jumping and waving her arms as if drowning. Through the glass, Lorelai watched as Rory smiled at something and laughed.

A suspicion rose like bread through her body because of a simple conclusion Lorelai made. Rory was laughing, and therefore- because she was not one of those people who laughed at random things because she just thought they were funny (Lorelai was the one to do that, not Rory) or a completely insane person who believed her duvet cover was cracking a joke- another person was there. It wasn't Lane- Lane didn't know yet. Not Paris, definitely not Paris. First of all- Paris was Paris. Second of all- Paris was Paris. Who could possibly know about the Pool house Drama?

It was not a mystery difficult to solve. Her suspicions were confirmed as a blonde head came out from the covers. Oh, man. Oh, man oh man oh man oh man. Lorelai immediately side-stepped out of sight, craving caffeine as she never had before. Luke's coffee. Sadly, the coffee gnome apparently wasn't happy with her that night and didn't show up at her whim. She didn't want them to see her, and, more importantly, she didn't want to see them. It would kill her. She needed to get away, but there was no escape. There was only one place where she could hide without being seen- a heavily manicured bush next to the gate in the yard. Grimacing, she ducked.

She grabbed her cell phone from her pant pocket, suddenly very happy she had a strange (or at least that's what Luke told her) mother-daughter protectiveness over it, and thus brought it everywhere with her. There was only one number she could call at this point. Sighing, she dialed "2" and listened to the speed-dial in her ear, so loud she was afraid Rory and he would hear.

"Luke's." It was a familiar voice. So familiar.

"Oh, thank god. Luke," she said, hushed.

"Lorelai? Yeah, hang on, Cesar- yeah, just make the salad without the olives, okay? Explain it to him." She could hear muted noises on the other side of the phone. "Then tell Taylor to buy his own olives, damnit! We're out. Just deal with it!"

More muted noises. Silence. She looked at her watch while time passed. Ten seconds…twenty seconds…forty seconds…fifty seconds…fifty-five seconds…Hmmm, is that a spider? I wonder if he meant yes. I really, really hope he meant yes. Ok, spider approaching. Going to flick it away, just flick it away…that's it…I can't believe this is happening, but I hope he means yes. But he did say something about our first anniversary? Oh, my god, I forgot about that. So…he almost definitely means yes… I can't face it if he means no…god, the irony is murdering me here…wait, what irony? I'll have to figure that out…there must be some kind of irony in this situation, just can't think…need coffee…need Luke…sounds corny but I do…and Rory…I think I need her back…god, what's this am I starting to cry? No, stop…you're stronger than this, her, Emily, Richard, you can face it and survive, you just need to calm down…

"Lorelai?"

"Oh, my god, Luke, was someone reciting the Declaration of Independence or something equally long and important just then and you just had to listen while I was about to explain my crisis?"

"Well, Taylor and olives were involved so there still is no end to the length- it's the importance of his recital I'm still a bit fuzzy on."

"Oh, witty comeback."

"I'm not even going to reply to that."

There were ten seconds of silence.

"Um, Luke?"

"Lorelai…" he said. It was in a voice that sounded remarkably un-Luke-ish. Soft. Kind. Her heart had a spasm.

"I'm kind of…stuck. Outside of…"

"Yes, Lorelai?"

"I'm kind of…outside of Rory's new pool house- home- thing…? In a bush. There's…spiders. And I'm wearing new shoes." Shut up, shut up, shut up Lorelai, about your shoes…! "Logan is there, and I didn't know what to do and she's wearing her cake pajamas, the ones I got her for her fifteenth birthday, the cute ones. And she's got day of the week underwear with happy faces. I just…didn't know what to do so here I am, in a bush." She laughed nervously.

Silence. Three seconds. She could hear Luke's breathing on the other end. Why can't I just leave? Who cares if they see me? Why am I doing this? She felt extraordinarily stupid, opened her mouth, about to speak, explain, say sorry, but he spoke first.

"Cesar, can you handle the crowd for a sec? Ok. I'll be there." Click.

She brushed a leaf from her hair and told her heart to stop spasming.

REVIEW! i'll give you love! maybe ill write an enthusiastic poem next time to get you to review next time, but now i just am too ADD/ caffeine high.