(I think I might have been... on something when I wrote this. Substance abuse aside, this chapter is basically one big dream sequence. Read, review, and love life, my friends.)

Chapter 3: Phone Call

Lorelai opened her eyes and found herself sitting in the middle of Miss Patty's dance studio. No one was around. It was dark outside, and as far as she could see the lights were all off. Despite that, the room was bright with white light that flooded from the numerous plaques and pictures that lined the walls. All of the furniture and bookshelves of trophies were conspicuously missing. Lorelai stood and her legs buckled under her, as if she were drunk or at least heavily hung over. She stumbled and put a hand out to catch herself on the wall, only to find an empty doorway. Half blind and unable to keep her balance, she tumbled out of the studio and landed hard on the dried grass outside. It was rough against her skin and it was at that moment that she noticed for the first time that she was wearing very little. She looked down at herself and saw, with horror, that she wasn't wearing clothes at all, but a beach towel with the first page of Pride and Prejudice printed on it in big, unfriendly letters. She shivered and hugged herself tightly, forcing herself into a sitting position. It was surprising cold outside, and as soon as she noticed this the skies opened up and a torrential rain began to fall. The winds picked up and she had a tough time keeping hold of her towel. Clinging to her wrapping for dear life, Lorelai stood and made her way through town, stumbling and fighting the wind and rain.

"Lorelai Gilmore!" She froze for a moment and then turned sharply on her heels. Emily stood directly in front of her, uncomfortably close, staring at her in utter disgust. "What are you doing in the rain? In a towel?"

"I was just about to ask you the first half of that question. And why aren't you getting wet?" The rain seemed to fall around her, and the wind cracked and gave way to her. No matter how close Lorelai stood to her, however, she could not escape the horrible weather. "Look, mom. I'm freezing; can't we go inside somewhere and talk about this later? I really have no idea what's going on here and--"

Lorelai was cut off as a lance of lightning tore through the sky and she was momentarily blinded by the brilliant blue light that accompanied it. Instead of a thunder drum it was a crash of a cymbal that made the earth shake. Lorelai fell to her knees, scuffing them on the rough pavement, and covered her head in a burst of fear. When she looked up Emily was gone, as was most of the town. What was there was in ruin, with green flame-like pillars reaching into the sky, turning the clouds to grass. Lorelai worked her way to her feet.

"Mom?" She called meekly, fear still gripping her heart. She stumbled down the street, her feet recognizing the place even if her eyes did not. "Mom?" She came to an unconscious stop in front of what used to be Taylor's grocery store. Now it was a puddle of silvery liquid, like mercury at room temperature, with a small island of shelves and a cash register in the center. Lorelai walked up to the edge of the small lake and peered at the liquid, but thought better of crossing it. "Taylor, Dean!" She called, rising on tiptoes to get the best view she could at the island.

"Lorelai?" A voice called from behind the isle of boxed cereal.

"Dean! Are you okay? What's going on here?" Lorelai felt relief and worry rush over her at once, and it nearly floored her. Her hang-over, or whatever it was, was not letting up. She swayed, but maintained her footing. Her grip on her towel tightened.

"What are you talking about? And why are you wearing that towel?" His head appeared from behind the Captain Crunch. He was wearing a small cap on his head, attached with an elastic band beneath his chin, with an absurdly large feather sticking directly out of the top. The hat was a vulgar shade of luminescent pink, and he wore a business suit to match, overly-large tie and shirt cuffs and all.

"You look like a flamingo and yet you comment on my wardrobe?"

"Are you mocking my uniforms, Little Missy?" Lorelai turned and saw, standing a good thirty feet distant, a man on a large horse. The horse, which was tall enough for any regular man to walk straight under its belly, was brown splotched and was drawing an equally large cart. The man, sitting daintily on the horse with both legs on one side, crossed and his hands in his lap, cleared his throat and spoke. She saw his mouth moving, but the words came to her after a long delay. "I'll have you know I spent quite a long time making that hat, and you have no right to complain any. This was the designed agree upon at the last town meeting. If you managed to arrive on time, Ms. Gilmore, you would know that."

"Taylor? Is that you!" Lorelai had to yell to be heard over the pounding rain and crashes of cymbal-thunder. Taylor, however, spoke in his regular voice and she heard him effortlessly.

"Of course it is, who else would it be? You're acting more peculiar than usual today, Lorelai. And why in heaven's name are you wearing that towel? I'm going to have to ask you to at least put on a shirt and some shoes if you wish to enter my store." The horse stomped it foot and the silvery liquid behind her bubbled in small waves. Lorelai stomped her foot in return, without the affect.

"I'm not here to buy groceries, Taylor! Have you seen my mother? Or Rory!"

"What? You're going to have to project a bit better than that, Lorelai." He was more condescending today than usual, and it was far more than Lorelai could handle.

"RORY?"

"She's in the Diner, waiting for you. Where else would she be? Excuse me, Lorelai? Where are you going? Come back!"

Lorelai stalked off down the street the best she could, the wind and rain only allowing her to stumble on at a slow crawl. When she finally reached the Diner she was exhausted beyond anything she thought humanly possible. She fumbled with the steps and threw herself at the door. It swung inward and she fell face first onto the cold tile floor and did not move.

"Mom!"

Lorelai feared to look up. She didn't know what had happened to the Diner, or to Rory, or to Luke, but she did not want to know. She kept her eyes tightly closed.

"Wake up!"

She opened her eyes when she felt a warm hand on her wet shoulder. She snapped her head around and looked straight into Rory's pale blue eyes.

"Rory!" She wrapped the girl into a hug, near
tears. "You're normal!"

"Lorelai! Are you all right!" Richard, her father, was at her other side. She fell on him, hugging him as she had Rory.

"You're normal too!"

Rory and Richard exchanged confused glances.

"Mom. Are you okay? Why weren't you at the town meeting? And why are you late?" Lorelai looked at Rory, pulling away from Richard in time to catch her slipping towel. It was heavy with rain water. The Diner was cold and empty, and Lorelai shivered. Rory stood and poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Lorelai, who accepted it with shaking hands. She took a sip and then spat it out reflexively. "This is decaf!"

"Of course." Rory nodded. "Our favorite."

"You're not my daughter." Lorelai said with horror in her voice. She rose unsteadily, like a leaf standing on its tip, and crossed to the counter. She leaned on it with her back, staring from Rory to Richard. Rory was wearing her uniform from Chilton, which Lorelai had simply overlooked when she had entered. It seemed natural for Rory to be wearing that, despite having already graduated. Her father was wearing his customary business suits, blazer and vest neatly pressed and undershirt tucked in tightly. When she looked more closely at him, however, she noticed that the suit was a bizarre wooly material, far too heavy for a suit of this kind, that bristled and seemed to have a life of its own. She hadn't felt it when she hugged him and realized at last that her body had gone numb from the cold outside. The cold in here. She shivered again, hugging herself tightly.

"I don't know what's going on." She confessed in a childlike voice. Rory walked towards her with open arms.

"Mom, you need to go rest." Lorelai felt compelled to go to those welcoming arms, but resisted. When Rory saw this hesitation her face twisted from the pleasant, intelligent face Lorelai knew and loved, to a grotesque and terrible face of wrath. Lorelai yelped and darted around the counter, slipping on a puddle of water that had dripped from her rain soaked towel and hair, and landed hard on the tile. Momentum kept her moving and she managed to drag herself behind the counter, where she cowered and shook violently. She waited for Rory to come. A hand touched her shoulder opposite where she had rounded the counter. Lorelai let out and screech and turned around swinging, landing a closed fist blow to a strong jaw. Someone heavy hit the ground with a thump and when Lorelai found courage enough to peer over the body she discovered Luke. He was dressed as plainly as ever, in flannel and jeans with his patented backwards blue baseball cap on his head. He stirred and stared at her for a moment. She blinked at him, waiting for him to become something odd and, inevitably, terrifying.

"Lorelai!" He said, anger and surprise mixing in his voice. She hesitated, feeling at once comforted by his painfully familiar and warming voice. She swayed and in a flash his strong arms were about her, pressing her close to his body. She felt the beat of his heart in her ear. The angry had vanished from his voice, leaving only the surprise. "Are you alright? You're in a towel… and you're drenched!"

"Please don't turn into anything freaky, or do something crazy, Luke. I really don't think I can handle that." She said with a sigh, going limp against him.

"So you've seen it, too? This place has gone crazy!" He kissed the top of her head and she looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"Don't be messing with me."

"I'm not. Everyone is acting like everything is completely normal. But Taylor is riding a damn giant horse, for Pete's sake." Lorelai moved in his grasp, though not enough to disengage herself, and pressed her lips to his. He was surprised for a moment, and then pushed against her, his hands exploring underneath the towel with no objection from her.

Lorelai smiled.

"Wake up."

"Go away."

"Wake up."

"No."

"Wake up!"

"Leave me alone."

"Come on, you promised!"

"I did no such thing."

"Get up, come on!"

"I keep hitting you and yet you won't stop!"

"Mom!" There it was. The pleading tone that
Rory only pulled out in dire emergencies, the tone she knew her mother could not resist. It was somewhere between pitiful and spoiled, where she dragged out the vowel sound as if she had been wounded. Lorelai groaned and rolled over, knocking the weight on her stomach off balance as she shifted to bury her face in her pillow. The dream she had given herself to so completely, the dream she had suddenly found herself thoroughly enjoying, was quickly vanishing before her eyes. Rory was not deterred and regained her sitting position, now on Lorelai's back. Lorelai groaned and mumbled something into the pillow.

"Mom, you're speaking the Language of the Birds again."

"Ha!" Lorelai turned her upper body awkwardly, looking over her shoulder to stare at Rory indignantly. "This is no where near the Garden of Eden. You're a little spawn of Satan."

"What does that make you, then?"

"Really tired." She flopped back into the bed, her arms falling limply at her sides, shutting her eyes tightly. She issued a false snore and Rory seized her by the shoulders and shook her roughly.

"Mom, if you don't get up Paris is going to come here looking for me and then you'll really be in he-" She was caught off guard by Lorelai's sudden, violent thrash that send Rory reeling and tumbling to the floor with a crash. Lorelai lay quiet for a long moment, and then with a grunt she crawled to the end of the bed and peered down at Rory.

"Not so much a Felix culpa, eh? Unless you discovered something about yourself in that little fall from grace?" Rory stared up at her blankly for a moment, angry flashing in her eyes, and then she was calm and smiled wickedly.

"I got you out of bed."

"Ah hah, but you didn't." Lorelai made to turn around and crawl back to her pillow, and as she did so Rory caught the corner of the comforter, which had spilled off the bed with her, and gave it a mighty tug. The whole comforter slipped off the bad, and with it came Lorelai. She landed flat on her back, right next to Rory. The two stayed like that for a while, staring at the ceiling and nursing their sore backs and pride in silence. Then Rory rolled over and sat on her mother's stomach, grinning down at the older woman in triumph.

"Now are you ready to get ready?" Lorelai reached up and threatened to push Rory off of her, then let her arms fall to her sides and a long sigh of defeat escaped her lips.

"Yes."

"Good. I'll be waiting downstairs for you. You have half an hour."

"Thank you. You're good to me, Master." Rory stood and offered Lorelai a hand up. Lorelai accepted it, hoisting herself up with so much force Rory was almost sent back to the floor.

"I know I am. Now hurry up and make yourself presentable." She walked with purpose to the door, holding her head high and swaying with pomp. She paused at the door and then looked back at Lorelai, who was pouting as she pulled the comforter back on to the bed. Rory giggled and Lorelai looked at her sharply, still pouting, and then let herself chuckle. Their laughter grew until both were bent over, breathing and gasping and holding their sides. Rory straightened up, red faced and choking back another fit of laughter, "Now you only have twenty-five minutes." Lorelai composed herself and nodded with as much solemnity as she could muster and Rory left with a wave. Rory managed to get three steps down the hall before her laughter kicked back in, and she heard her mother in the same straights through the door. Rory managed to escape the hall and toddle down the stairs and flop herself down on the tattered old couch before her laughter subsided. It was far too early in the morning for either of them to be up and goofing around, and yet here they were, both hardly able to breathe. It only added to the hilarity. Rory was laughing through her anxiety of a day with Paris, and Lorelai had her fight with Emily to fuel her. Both felt the relief after the laughter finally died away. There was probably no better way to start the day, for either of them. Lorelai came down after forty minutes of dressing and primping. She was wearing a casual camel skirt that fell just beyond her knees, a black, off the shoulder top, worn flip-flops and thin, oval sunglasses. Her hair, which was wavy after a rushed shower and blow dry, was pulled back in a messy bun and strands of it fell before her face, or rested tucked behind her ears. Still, she looked beautiful. Rory envied her mother in that one point. Lorelai was one of those people that could look good during or after anything.

"You ready, sweets?" Lorelai asked absently, not heeding Rory's approving glance. Rory stood, smoothed out her green striped button up top and three-quarter length sleeves, pulled up her faded jeans and then threw her jacket on over her shoulders.

"Yes. We still swinging to Luke's before we go?" She was already at the door as she spoke. Lorelai followed her, taking her brown leather jacket from the back of a chair and pulling it on.

"You know it." They exited the house and Lorelai locked the door behind them. Rory stood at the driver's side door of the Jeep, holding her hand out expectantly. "You're going to drive?" Lorelai asked, handing the keys over.

"'Till you get your coffee, yes." She opened the door and got in behind the wheel. She put the key and turned the engine as Lorelai entered on the passenger's side.

"You're too good to me, Master." She said fondly.

They entered the Diner quietly, taking a table near the window. There was no seat out of the site of the bar where Luke took most of his orders, but that was fine. He was currently away from the counter, anyway, his ear to a phone while juggling two plates of food in his hands. The phone's cord stretched half-way across the diner, over the heads and plates of other customers. This was the early morning crowd, none of whom Lorelai or Rory recognized, and they were regulars. None seemed perturbed by the likelihood of Luke dropping the trays, nor by the cord dangling in front of their faces, or tickling the back of their heads. The Gilmore's watched with serene interest as he managed to make his way from one table to the other, topping off coffee and taking finished breakfast plates away from the three other occupied tables in the Diner that morning. All the while he was completely engaged in his conversation on the phone, making animated gestures with the coffee pot and pilled plates and yet never raising his voice above a conspiratorial whisper. Lorelai motioned in Luke's direction, making as if she were on the phone.

"Why yes, mom, I do remember that time you took me to the Prom." She said in a deep, throaty voice, sitting up straight in her chair and puffing out her chest. It was her impersonation of Luke.

"Really?" Rory said, making her voice higher while leaning forward over the table. She slurred her words as if she had no teeth, "That was a lovely evening, wasn't it? You looked so good in your tux, Luke my boy."

"Why thank you, mother, but please, call my Butch. You know I love being called Butch, especially by that lovely Lorelai I tell you so much about." The two watched rigidly as Luke turned slightly towards them, and let out a sigh when someone summoned him to look at their eggs.

"Oh, yes. That Lorelai sounds like a lovely woman. But that child of hers, and out of wedlock! I simply couldn't have you running around with a girl with a reputation like that." Rory giggled and Lorelai reached across the table and jabbed her with a look of indignant surprise on her face.

"Yes, well." Lorelai said, still using her deep voice and watching Luke carefully. She tried to match her words to the movement of his mouth. "We'll get rid of that Rory soon enough and everyone will forget all about her. It's the kid that brings the mother down, you know?"

"Yes," Rory said in her best angry-old-person voice, "well, I learned that one the hard way." At that point the cord on Luke's phone reached its limit and snapped back, jerking the phone from his hands. He turned in surprise, leaving the coffee mug and plates on an uninhabited table, and tried to catch it. It was too fast, however, and the phone crashed into someone's breakfast omelet, lodging itself in the egg and cheese, its cord sticking out and drooping over the edge of the table. The man looked at Luke in mild horror, without surprise in his eyes. It was as if he knew this would happen to him. Lorelai and Rory giggled and snorted, covering their mouths in an effort to remain unnoticed. Luke went and recovered the phone, putting it to his ear and checking to see if the person was still on the other end. They were, and from Luke's wince it seemed they were upset. Lorelai stopped giggling at once, growing stiff as her fists curled into tight fists. Rory looked at her in wonder, tilting her head.

"What is it?"

"Did he just say 'Emily'?"

"No, I don't think so. It might have been… 'family'…" Rory looked over at Luke, suddenly wishing he would see them. He was behind the counter now, standing very close to the hook. Lorelai stood.

"No, that doesn't make sense, does it? I heard 'sorry Emily'. Why would he be apologizing to 'family'? That doesn't make sense." She walked away from the table and sat down at a stool, leaning her elbows on the counter. Luke was mumbling into the phone, his back to the diner, and so he didn't notice her.

"Look, I said I was sorry. The cord just snapped out of my hand and I couldn't do anything about it. I'm not a gymnast, if you haven't noticed… No, no, please. I'm sorry… yes; I do want this to happen… I know I need your help… okay, I'm sorry. I won't take that tone with you again… okay… talk to you then… thanks." He hung up the phone and turned around, his face serious and flushed with slight anger. He started towards the table with the ruined breakfast and then halted. He was standing directly next to Lorelai, staring at her over his shoulder as she looked at him. His face reflected only shock, while hers was jovial and quizzical.

"Taking tones, Mister?" She asked, flashing her teeth. Luke coughed and struggled to find a good lie. When he couldn't come up with one he bowed his head and said.

"I have to take care of that table." And he stalked off. He picked up the plate, promised a new omelet was coming, swung over and plucked up the rest of the dirtied plates and the coffee mug and then went to visit Rory as she sat abandoned at the table.

"I thought you said you'd keep her out of here today!" He said in a harsh whisper. Lorelai took this opportunity to sneak behind the counter and get two coffee mugs, and then a donut from the glass domed display.

"I tried." Rory answered with a shrug. "I told you she wouldn't have it." Luke looked helpless, and attempted to say something but stopped as Lorelai returned. She took from him the warm coffee pot and poured a cup for herself and then one for Rory. She offered the pot back to him, and he took it without an expression.

"What?" Lorelai asked innocently.

"Nothing. You guys want breakfast?" He asked gruffly.

"No, just coffee. We're in a rush. You remember."

"Paris, right. Okay… I'm going to go… clean these and…"

"Hey, wait a second. What was that show all about?" And at his puzzled face Lorelai added, "The phone call."

'Oh, yeah. That. It was. Err, just the insurance for the diner and, um, there's some problem with the paper work. It's just a mix-up; they'll take care of it." He shuffled awkwardly in place and played with the plates in his hands.

"Oh. And you were taking a tone with them? I don't think that's very helpful of you, Luke." Lorelai grinned at Rory.

"Yeah, well you know. Look, I have to get back to work. And aren't you two going to be late?" he walked off, circling behind the counter and dropping the plates into the sink with a clatter. Lorelai watched him go, a smile on her face and a faraway look in her eyes.

"Mom." Rory's voice brought her back to reality. It was vaguely urgent. "We're going to be late."