One-Shot: Meet the Cousin Gellers
Paris stomped into her dorm room at Yale. She could feel hot and angry moisture pooling behind her eyes, yet she refused to let the tears fall. She would rather be caught dead than let anyone see her cry, least of all her pretty, pretty princess roommate.
Not that Rory Gilmore wouldn't be understanding. When it came to the enigma that was Paris Geller, few were, and did. Even so, it was hard not to feel envious of the kind of upbringing that Rory had, reared in a town that would have made a fine second location for Storybookland, with residents who appeared to have gotten lost on their way to the opening number from Beauty and the fucking Beast. And right there in the middle of it all was Rory Gilmore, a Disney princess so straight out of central casting that it was a wonder Paris had never seen rabies bites from all the woodland animals that would be compelled to follow her wherever she went.
…. This extended metaphor/rant was not, needless to say, making Paris feel any better about her present situation. Her eyes swept the dorm room's common area, or at least most of it, anyway. Not surprising that it would be deserted, this close to exams.
Her ears registered the Texas drawl of President George W. Bush, droning on and on, and this was what took Paris over the edge: someone had left the TV on again!
She physically lashed out, kicking the television set with her foot and it was a miracle that said foot didn't go right through the screen. Her toe happened to hit the OFF button and the image of that infernal monkey who had someone escaped from the zoo and all the way into the White House winked out.
"Paris!"
The whine made Paris jerk sharply with annoyance and flash her gaze into the corner. Rory Gilmore had been so silent, Paris hadn't even known she was there. The bow lips of her roommate now frowned. "I was watching that for a class….!"
"You wanna major in Special Ed? - go volunteer at Horizons, Inc.!"
Rory pursed her lips in an amused and tight smile at her friend's rather rude joke about the President's neurological capacity (or lack thereof), but said nothing beyond, "Well, well, well…. Someone's in a mood…."
Paris glowered, but for once, she couldn't find the caustic words to beat back Rory's rather astute observation. Little Miss World Correspondent was right, as usual! Lest she appear in any way vulnerable, Paris tried not to pout. She was far less successful in hiding her whine. "My parents are going abroad for the holidays again…. Without me…."
Rory rose from her seat at the corner table, eyes now flashing with soft concern. "Oh, gosh, Paris, I'm…. I'm so sorry…."
Paris grunted. "Not your fault…" she mumbled, folding her arms and sinking onto the couch. She could feel Rory's gaze on her, but ignored it. Paris wasn't about to stoop so low as to ask Rory to take her in for the Yuletide break - she wasn't some damn stray cat! Plus, the only punishment worse than gallivanting about Stars Hollow was gallivanting about the too-cookie-cutter-to-be-real town at Christmas time…..! Though Paris did like and even admire Rory's mom.
Paris waited for Rory to make some offer to that effect ("Why don't you come stay with us?"), but it didn't come. The blonde barely suppressed a growl. She would be forced to beg, then. The indignity! "What are you doing for the holidays?"
Rory bowed her head, biting her lip and finding the lint on her skirt quite interesting. "I was thinking of staying with my grandparents, actually. My…. My mother and I aren't…. speaking."
That was right - the stupid boat incident Paris had heard about. Now, she was reminded to resume her ire at the empty-headed Huntzberger, on top of everyone else she was mad at. While there was something supremely and perversely satisfying about Rory placing a blot on her otherwise spotless record, Paris knew that no one deserved to feel such distance and estrangement from a parent the way that she did.
"Whose side have your grandparents taken?"
Rory's eyes widened. "Not anyone's, I hope!" Paris thought she didn't sound at all convincingly neutral. In truth, Rory was probably counting on her grandparents to side with her over her own mother. The pretty brunette bit her lip. "You…. You could come stay with my grandparents and me, if you want. There's a pool house out back that can easily be converted to something livable."
While the offer was generous, spending the winter season freezing her tush off in a pool house while being forced to endure Richard Gilmore's lectures on insurance was too much minutia, even for Paris Geller. Frankly, she was sure Rory wouldn't like it either, no matter how much fun she tried to make it sound.
Paris now allowed herself that growl. "Well, we can't stay here! The RAs want everyone out for deep cleaning, even the international students!" Suddenly, a light bulb went off in her head. It was a long shot, but….
Paris dashed into her and Rory's suite; she could hear her roommate ambling along bemusedly behind.
"Paris….?" Flipping through her address book, then cross-referencing it with the contacts in her cellphone, Paris initially didn't answer her. When the blonde finally glanced up, her eyes were gleaming.
"What would you say to spending Christmas in the big city? Or…. Just outside of it."
Rory smirked, interest piqued. "Define 'big city.'"
"New York, idiot! Where else?!" Paris rolled her eyes. "How did you even get into Yale?"
"What's in New York, then?"
"Some cousins of mine. One's a total nerd who works in a museum…" (Rory cocked an eyebrow at the gall of Paris, of all people, condescendingly calling anyone else a nerd) "…. But the other - his sister - she's a chef who lives upstate now." Paris nodded once firmly, a hopeful smile on her face. "I doubt we'd be too much of an imposition. Besides, I like Cousin Monica - she's nice!" Paris began punching along her phone. Then the girls went back into the common area to study together. A few minutes later, Paris's phone beeped. Reading the message, she grinned.
"Road trip, Gilmore!"
The night following exams, Rory and Paris boarded a bus for down southwest, heading into New York.
"So…. Where exactly upstate did you say your cousin lives?" Rory asked.
"Westchester County. She's got a really cushy job at some upscale eatery - Java something," Paris waved away.
Rory grinned. "Girls bringing home the bacon as the main breadwinner! I like it!"
"Well, her husband works too, last I heard," Paris shrugged. "She married a total ding-dong, about four, five years ago. All he does is crunch the keyboard all day. I don't even know what exactly his job is…."
It was deep night by the time the bus pulled into the Westchester stop. Rory and Paris stumbled off.
"Um…." Rory bit her lip. "Do you know who is picking us up…?"
A car horn blaring suddenly made both girls jump. "Hey, Pori! HEY!" A guy with spiky hair was grinning and waving frenetically from out a nearby car window.
Paris rolled her eyes and began stomping over to the car, Rory drifting behind. "And….. there's the ding-dong…."
"Really?" Rory murmured. "For a ding-dong, I'd say he's pretty cute…"
"Shut up, Gilmore - you think everything with a dick and testosterone is cute…" Paris muttered in the last second before they reached the car window. Paris smiled as tightly as she could. "It's Paris. And…. Thanks for picking us up, Chanel!"
"Chandler," the cute guy corrected, his smile revealing no offense whatsoever. For mangling his name, Paris did not seem sorry at all. "And you brought a friend! Hey there! Chandler Bing," Chandler reached through the car window and shook Rory's hand. "Hop in - Mon has gone crazy cooking…"
"I hope we didn't upend any of your plans…." Paris murmured perfunctorily, as she opened the door to the backseat.
"No, of course not!" Chandler called back over his shoulder, eyes on the rear view mirror as the girls climbed into the back. Paris stepped on something and glancing down, she winced: a half empty baby bottle, with some leftover milk dribbling from the teat and onto the carpet, lay on the floor of the cab.
Seeing her reaction, Chandler cringed good-naturedly. "Pardon the mess. Eighteen month old twins."
Rory clapped her hands in delight. "My mom's best friend just had twins! I'm…. Well, I'm one of the godparents…" The cheer in her voice noticeably deflated, enough for Chandler to send Paris a questioning look through the rear view mirror.
"I'll explain later. Now, just drive, Bing Bong!"
Chandler cheerfully piloted his car back into Westchester County, until they pulled up to a quaint little house on a quiet suburban street, complete with white picket fence. There was even what appeared to be a two-story shed out back, as Chandler, Paris and Rory huffed up the walk. Spying Rory studying the structure, Chandler grinned.
"Just had that finished and furnished. There's a studio apartment on the second floor, where a dear friend of ours often likes to stay."
"Does this friend travel a lot, then?" Paris wanted to know.
"He's an actor," Chandler explained. "So, yeah…. He travels sometimes."
Paris winced. "Sure - from here to the soup kitchen," she muttered to Rory under her breath.
Chandler finished lugging the girls' bags onto the front stoop, and opened the door without knocking.
"Mon?"
"In the kitchen, sweetie!"
The three weary travelers rounded the corner to find a beautiful woman ladling over a pot on the stove. At the table behind her were twin babies, asleep in their high chairs.
"Hey," Monica murmured as her husband buzzed a kiss along her cheek. "I'm sorry; I didn't get the kids up to bed yet - I can't step away from this pasta for too long…. PARIS!" She now squealed, leaving Chandler to take over the ladling as she rounded the table and enveloped her cousin in a hug. "Oh, how are you, sweetie?"
Paris now sported that fond smile which Rory knew her roommate only reserved for a select few people. "I'm fine, Monica…" The blonde surveyed the house approvingly. "The place looks immaculate!"
"Thank you!" Monica gushed. "And who is your friend?"
"Oh, this is Rory, my roommate. She didn't really have anywhere else to go this holiday, either."
"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Rory!" Monica hugged Rory.
"Thank you for letting us stay here, ma'am." Rory glanced over Monica's shoulder at r the sleeping toddlers. "Your babies are gorgeous!"
"Thanks," Monica smiled. "They're even beautiful when they sleep."
Chandler took this as a reminder, as he lifted one baby out of its high chair. "I'll put 'em down, Mon, while you set the table. Either of you girls want to take the other?" Rory eagerly volunteered.
Chandler, Rory and Paris now ascended the stairs to the second floor nursery. "So…. How long have you lived here?" Rory asked.
"About a year and a half ago," Chandler reported, bouncing his son in his arms. "These little bruisers were only days old when we moved in!"
Paris couldn't help but grin admiringly. "Sounds like cousin Monica - moving days after childbirth!"
"Oh, um, actually, these cuties were adopted," Chandler explained. Both Rory and Paris's eyes widened in surprise. "A birth mother out of Ohio picked us, and well…" he flushed.
"I'm glad you've given them such a nice home," Rory offered up kindly.
The group helped get Jack and Erica down before tiptoeing back downstairs, where Monica was dealing out bowls of pasta.
"This looks amazing, Mrs. Bing!" Rory fawned.
"Oh, call me Monica, honey," Monica waved away.
"Get ready," Chandler leaned into Rory with a twinkle in his eye. "If you think this is good, just wait for Christmas dinner! She goes all out!"
"Speaking of going out…." Monica segued as the group all sat down to eat. "Chandler and I were thinking of taking the twins into the city tomorrow, make a day of it! Would you girls want to come?"
"There will be coffee," Chandler plied. "We know a great place!"
That was all Rory needed to hear. "Be warned, though: I'm a tough coffee critic, like my mom. Her boyfriend makes the best coffee on the Eastern Seaboard!"
Chandler's eyes gleamed, the challenge thrown down. "Well, you've clearly never been to Central Perk, then!"
"Say, Paris, didn't Monica and I see you at the wedding?" Chandler asked, as the group pushed Jack and Erica's stroller down the busy city street towards the coffee house just ahead.
"Which one - yours or Cousin Ross's?"
Chandler smirked. "Both."
Paris shrugged. "Yeah, I was there. My parents brought me along." A beat, then she smiled. "This was the last one for Ross, though, right?"
Chandler and Monica exchanged smiles. "It better be!" Chandler laughed. "You weren't there for his one to Emily, were you?"
"No, but I heard all about it - idiot went and said the wrong name! Who does that?" Paris scoffed. At Rory's inquisitive look, Paris shrugged. "Gossip in this family is a real…."
"Beautiful, beautiful coffee! Could the smell be more engrossing?!" Chandler swept through the door of Central Perk, loudly proclaiming their arrival. A group of people on an orange couch in the center of the room were waving them over. A blonde lady now rose from the cushions and rounded the couch to dash into Monica's arms.
"Hey, Rache! This is Ross's and my cousin, Paris and her roommate from college, Rory! Girls: my sister-in-law, Rachel Geller!"
"Rachel Geller-Green," Rachel corrected. (At this, Chandler dramatically rolled his eyes).
The woman's husband now sidled up and slung an arm around Rachel's waist; Rory was more than a little amused to see how Paris had suddenly turned very red and was stuttering as she shook her cousin Ross's hand.
"Kissing cousins, are we….?" Rory murmured sotto voce as the group meandered back to the couch. "Tristan would probably be jealous…."
Paris jerked sharply and glared balefully at Rory. "Shut up! He baby-sat me when I was a kid!"
The group joined another blonde-haired woman and a gentleman with a million-watt smile that showed all his teeth. Circling the coffee table was a precocious toddler, stomping. The little girl waved to the new arrivals.
"That's Emma, our daughter," Rachel murmured to Rory. "She's three." A beat. "Three and a half."
"She's wonderful!" Rory laughed, enamored.
"Mommy…." Emma whined. "Make Da-da sing Baby Get Back!"
"Oh noooo….." Ross laughed tightly. "Absolutely not!"
Emma frowned, before attempting to change targets. "Unca Chandler, sing Baby Get Back!"
Chandler smirked as he sat on the couch, lifting his niece onto his lap. "Sorry, princess. No can do. Uncle Chandler doesn't want to get murdered by your mommy or Auntie Monica."
The group was then introduced to Phoebe Buffay and Joey Tribbiani.
"Mike couldn't make it….?" Monica was murmuring to Phoebe.
"Nah, he has work - last day before he's off for the holidays…."
"So…." Joey sidled up to Paris and Rory. "You girls must be staying in my bachelor pad…" At the girls' confused looks, Chandler cut in.
"They're in the guest room downstairs, Joey. No one's touched your precious little studio. And stop hitting on collegiate girls!"
Behind them, Monica just smirked. "Some things never change…. All right, who wants coffee? I hear Gunther's got peppermint!" There was a chorus of approval, and within a few moments, Monica was back and juggling mugs that she now dealt all around.
Rory took a discerning sip. Her eyes lit up. "This one gives Luke's a run for its money!"
Paris cocked an eyebrow. "Watch what you say and where you say it, Gilmore. Unless, of course, you wanna be estranged from your mom's grunting fireman too."
Rory whacked her best friend on the arm.