so i have been extra excited to post this chapter! i hope you enjoy it!

The posters for the Bid-On-A-Basket Fundraiser were plastered on any and every stationary object in town. Something seemed to be going on every other week in this Godforsaken town, each as equally ridiculous as the last, but somehow they always seemed to catch his interest. This place was a far cry from the city.

Gale tried to think of his mother living in this small town, participating in any of these functions . Hazelle Abernathy-Hawthorne was a hell of a lot more social than her older brother, but still he couldn't picture her cooking and baking food to put in a basket for some guy to bid on. It didn't seem like his mother at all. But last night, during his nightly phone conversation with his mother he'd mentioned the event and discovered how wrong he was.

"You have to go!" She exclaimed; on the other line a pan clanged in the sink. Every night she called while she did the dishes before heading to bed. The sound of the running water along with his mother's voice helped to put him in the mood for sleep.

"Yeah, alright." He replied sarcastically. The truth was that he had considered it for a brief moment when Haymitch had revealed what it was mid-rant. "Shouldn't you be up in arms about this?"

His mother chuckled, the water stopped. "I don't think I ever told you this, but I met your father at the Bid A Basket Fundraiser. Is it still to raise money for that damn bridge?"

Eli Hawthorne was not a native of Stars Hollow. He was born and raised in New York City, but had an obsession for small towns. He left the city the day after graduation to travel and lived all over for a handful of years. 'While I'm young,' he'd told his parents; with nothing but a paperback in his back- pocket and the money his family had given him for graduating. At twenty-four he yearned for his hometown. On the way back he decided to stop in Connecticut to rest, one last small adventure in a small town before he returned back home.

"I had a boyfriend at the time. We weren't too serious, but serious enough that his head right about exploded when this guy who no one had ever seen outbid him." He could see her right now, leaning on the counter, the same far off look in her eye she got whenever she spoke about his father. "He was wearing that leather jacket you like so much, that stupid smirk on his pretty mouth. The smile on his face only got wider the redder Evan got."

"How was it? You didn't even know the guy."

"Well your father was always very charming. It was a very nice first date despite the fact that I was dating someone else at the time. He didn't seem to mind. I think he found it quite amusing. He found just about everything amusing in Stars Hollow."

"What did you guys even talk about? You didn't even know him. That must have been so awkward."

"Well, not really. He was handsome and not from Stars Hollow so I was already enthralled by him. Not to mention your dad was pretty charming. He could make friends with a brick wall if he tried hard enough. We talked about everything, music, movies, books, his travels, everything. Your father was always a great conversationalist."

"I always wondered where I got it from," he replied with sarcasm.

She cackled. "Oh that's from my side of the family. You've met Haymitch and if you had known my father you would know that those two were cut from the same cloth with the same scissors. You and Rory get the grunting as a form of language from my side. Vick and Posy can't shut up because of your father."

He sighed at the mention of his siblings. It wasn't the same just talking to them over the phone. He missed rushing them to school in the morning, even if Rory was grumpy in the morning, Vick always forgot at least one thing when they were already down the block, and Posy insisted on wearing the blue ribbons in her hair not the pink ones, which were conveniently lost. "Is she doing better? How are they?"

"She's become very attached to that hoodie and she wanted to talk to you, but she fell right to sleep. The boys are good. Rory won't admit that he misses you, but I know he does. I caught him reading one of your books the other day."

"Oh yeah? What was he reading?"

"I'm pretty sure it was Dubliners. I don't think he's planning on finishing it, but he started it. It's something."

"For him? Just picking up the book was something. He doing better in school?"

"He's doing his homework and helping the kids with theirs."

Gale sighed in relief. "That's good."

She laughed, adding. "Poor Rory though, he just does not know how to do Posy's hair the way she likes it. It just about drives him up the wall. 'Gale doesn't do it like that' or 'Gale braids it different. You're doing it wrong.' He's ready to kill you for setting the bar too high."

He laughed. Trouble with Posy's hair was an expected difficulty, but at least that was it.

xx

Like his father, Gale didn't care that Madge had a boyfriend. Sure, watching them make out right in the third aisle of Coin's Market irked him, but mostly because they were blocking the superglue.

Madge noticed him first, pulling away from her boyfriend, her blue eyes on the ground, her cheeks a violent red.

"What? Is it Alma?" Beau shakily ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "Oh," he stopped, the nervous smile falling from his lips immediately replaced with one of disdain. "It's you."

"In the flesh," he countered.

"What do you want?"

Gale ticked his jaw; this guy was grating. "You guys are blocking the superglue."

"Sorry," Madge muttered, stepping away, sending an uncomfortable smile his way before turning to look at the baskets, or at least pretending to.

He grabbed the superglue Haymitch had requested. "As you were."

"I really hate that guy," Beau snarled to Madge. Gale scoffed, the feeling was mutual. Once he'd approached the checkout line, he was too far to hear Madge's response.

Alma gave him a look of reproach, her cold eyes narrowed at him. Gale was no stranger to being disliked. At least she had a reason; he had stolen money from that stupid bridge fund tin can. He figured she could make up for funds easily. Hell, the bridge looked fine to him. There were more pressing matters than a bridge that needing a new paint job.

"It's a two for one sale."

"Oh," Gale grabbed the packet of superglue. "I'll be back then."

Madge was still in the aisle, right where she had been when he had left, except this time she was staring at her boyfriend's back.

She jumped, not expecting him to be right beside her. "God! Make a noise."

He smirked, reaching forward to grab another packet of superglue. "Two for one sale."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. He was able to make out a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth before she turned around to look at the baskets.

xx

It should not have been that funny to him, but seeing that vein in Beau's forehead get ready to practically burst was hilarious. Obviously, he'd thought that he'd be paying the five-dollar starting bid Alma had announced. The look of utter shock on his face was completely worth it. Usually, Gale would never under any circumstance spend ninety-dollars so impulsively. That money would have gone to his mother to pay one of the bills, but after he'd stolen the money for the bridge, she had forbade him from sending any money back home. He figured annoying Beau and the added bonus of spending an afternoon with Madge was worth the ninety dollars since he couldn't send any of it to his family.

Beau marched away in a tizzy, his hands in fists at his sides and his mouth pursed in what he could only assume was fury. Basket in hand, Gale watched Madge attempt to placate him. It didn't seem to be working and Gale was losing his patience.

"Y'know, out of all the crazy shindigs this place seems to cook up, this one was not half bad I gotta say. I've got no complaints."

"I've got a few."

Gale ignored him, leaning toward Madge. "So shall we?"

It wasn't the first time he'd said that to her and if he had his way it wouldn't be the last.

"Shall we what?" Beau answered for her, his barely visible blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Shall we eat," he answered simply. It was obvious wasn't it?

"What?"

Apparently not. Gale rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure if you didn't understand the concept of this entire event, but I can explain it to you. The person who buys the basket gets the company of the person who made the basket for lunch." He shook the basket in front of his face. "Basket," He gestured toward Madge, "Basket maker," and last he pointed to Beau, "Guy who didn't bring enough money."

"You think this is funny?"

The smirk on his lips was answer enough. This shit was hilarious.

"Bye Gale." The guy was bigger than him, he'd give him that much. He had broader shoulders and probably weighed more than him despite being shorter, but winning wrestling champions (against your younger brother mind you) was not the same as fighting in real life. Gale was raised on the streets. There weren't many people who could intimidate him.

"Are you leaving?"

"No you are."

"You're right." He glanced toward Madge. "Madge and I should be leaving."

"She's not going with you!"

"Really? Is that true?" Gale looked at Madge expecting an answer, but Beau interrupted yet again, leaving her with her mouth open.

"No, she's not."

Gale glanced at Madge before turning back to Beau. "You know, I was asking Madge, didn't know she magically lost the ability to speak in the past few hours since I last saw her."

"She doesn't have to talk to you because she's not going!"

Madge looked trapped, her blue eyes bouncing between both of them as they argued, their responses too fast to give her enough time to interrupt. "Beau—"

"You cannot be serious right now."

"It's just a picnic. We'll eat. Then it'll be over." She sighed, tugging on her jean jacket. "Don't make this a big deal."

Gale watched Beau's hand on her arm, his eyes pleading. "Don't go."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

He couldn't help but to add, "Yeah, I would like to hear this myself."

"You really do not want to be talking right now!" He turned to his girlfriend. "Madge—It's not school! You're not being graded on this!"

"It's tradition," she pulled on the ends of her hair. "My mom and I have been doing this since we moved to town."

"Who cares about tradition?"

"I do."

"Fine, whatever." And then he was stomping off as dramatically as ever.

Gale rolled his eyes, watching Madge follow after him. He cursed himself for forgetting his book at the apartment. Hopefully this wouldn't take long.

xx

He found Madge staring off toward an empty street, a pensive look on her face.

"There's no one there, you know?"

"I know."

"You going to go after him?" He wouldn't exactly blame her if she did, but it would be a waste of ninety dollars.

She shook her head. "No, not right now."

"You ready?" He shook the small basket at his side.

"Yeah."

"You got a specific place in mind?" It was polite to ask even though he already had a spot in mind.

"I don't care."

"Alright," they walked in silence toward the bridge. Hopefully, their entire time together wouldn't be so quiet.

She paused before stepping onto the bridge. "Don't even think of pushing me in."

"We're eating here." He chuckled. "And I wasn't planning on growing gills in the near future so staying on land is fine by me." He sat down, his legs dangling over the edge.

"We're going to eat here?"

Gale nodded, glancing up at her, her jeans were cuffed on the bottom. "That's what I was planning, unless you have a problem with it then we can go somewhere else." She sat down, a bit behind him so her legs were outstretched, her feet meeting the edge of the bridge. "You cuff them like that 'cause you're so short?"

She nodded, "What the Donner women lack in height we make up for in an abundance of personality and wit." She lazily reached for her toes, a soft moan falling from her lips. That was not a noise he needed to hear when she was so close to him, the smell of her perfume wafting up his nose. Here there was nowhere to hide. "Even the short ones are too long," she added absently. "Not all of us can be Neanderthals like you." Madge ran a hand through her hair, gathering it all to one side. "So why'd you do it?"

A little blunt if you asked him. "Do what?" Gale had a tendency to play dumb.

"Why'd you outbid Beau like that?"

It didn't get him far. He shrugged. "At first, I kind of just wanted to annoy him. But then he was standing there all mad and I don't know if you've ever noticed but he gets this vein in his forehead. He's a riot."

"It wasn't funny."

"Well, I didn't intend to do it, if that makes you feel any better."

She scooted closer to the edge of the bridge so they were next to each other, the basket between them. Her legs barely dangled over.

"Does it make you feel any better?"

"I just don't want to be in a fight with Beau."

He gestured toward the left side of the bridge opposite to where they had come from. "Do you want to push me off?" Upon hearing he may have stolen money for the bridge from an enraged Alma, he waited for his nephew to get out of school. Maybe Gale could have handled the situation a bit better instead of yelling at his uncle, but it was his first week here and he did not want to be here, not in the slightest. He was frustrated and angry, his natural state most would say. Irritated and unused to dealing with teenagers, Haymitch pushed him off the edge of the bridge and didn't even wait to see if he came up.

"Maybe later."

"So let's crack this thing open." He opened the basket, peering inside. "Wow, absolutely nothing in here looks even remotely edible."

Madge looked at him innocently. "Well it wasn't for you. It was for Beau."

He grabbed a green Tupperware, tilting it toward her. "And Beau would have eaten this?"

She nodded. "Yes, he would have."

There was no way Gale would let Beau Mellark outdo him, no way no how. Stretching his arms in preparation, he took a heaping portion into his mouth. Immediately, he fought spitting it back into the container. "Beau is an idiot."

Madge giggled behind her hands. "Beau would never have fallen for that!"

Gale groaned, repacking the Tupperware. He stuck his tongue out. Maybe airing it out would help. "I wish I had something to wash that awful taste from my mouth. Way to not pack any liquids. On second thought, that's probably a good thing, probably would be past due with all kinds of bacteria."

She ticked her head at a forty-five degree angle, "I don't even remember how long that's been in our fridge to be honest."

"Evil woman."

"That'll be your lesson! Don't mess with a Donner!"

xx

It was easy getting lost in conversation with Madge Donner.

"He's a complete jerk!"

"Madge, you're not supposed to take his personality into account! He's a writer! I'm sure 99% of them are complete assholes! The work speaks for itself."

"I can't get past the part of him being a complete dick! Oprah should have ended him right then and there. I'm sure she has a hit-man on the payroll." She scoffed. "Thinks he's too good for Oprah's good club!"

Gale chuckled. "But you read Freedom, right?"

"The chapters are stupidly long."

"And you got past that and fell in love with it, didn't you? Patty, Madge. Patty!"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No comment."

"You're impossible. On another note, my little brother was reading Dubliners last week, or at least attempting to."

"Please tell me you read Joyce's letters to Nora Barnacle!" She leaned toward him. They'd moved, now sitting across from each other, the basket still between them.

He stared blankly at her. "Well it's not like he was planning on having them published! They were for her eyes only!"

"I read them when I was twelve. I was horrified!"

Gale cackled, his head falling back. "I think you'd be just as horrified reading them now. I don't think you could say those kinds of words even if you wanted to, at least not in that order."

"I would never want to!"

The letters were downright filthy. Madge had a point there, but Gale would give most if not all of the books in his possession to hear her recite just one of those letters. What would she sound like her lips wrapping around his words. He'd have to be a bit choosy with which ones though. Again, those letters were fucking filthy.

"Joyce aside, you promised," he pointed toward her.

"I will give the painful Ernest Hemingway another shot."

He tipped his head toward her. "You know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you."

She paused, pursing her lips as if choosing her words wisely. "Why are you only nice to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"You were downright rotten to Beau not even an hour ago, but now you're here being so nice to me."

Gale sighed. "It's the being mean to Beau that gets me here so I can be nice to you."

"So it was a plan?"

Gale had no comment. "You hungry? Do you want pizza?"

"You're trying to avoid answering my question."

"I'm not above evasion. I'll pay. Do you like green peppers? If not, we can get it on just half."

"Fine." She stood up, wiping the dirt from her jeans. "Let's go."

Gale followed, basket in hand.

i do not recommend reading Joyce's letters to his wife.

reviews are always welcome and appreciated :)