wizened_cynic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wizened_cynic) wrote2007-07-04 02:19 am
wizened_cynic) wrote2007-07-04 02:19 am
Entry tags:
happy fourth of july, I guess
I promised someone, like, a YEAR ago that I would write a Fourth of July fic where Alex and Lorelai dance underneath the fireworks. That didn't happen.
Instead this is some random weird ficlet thing I cooked up because Sue and Gretchen are so not cooperating. Try to figure out where in the non-existent timeline it is. I tried putting my Claire fics in chronological order, and it doesn't work. It just doesn't. So good luck.
anywhere you hang your head
It slips her mind that the door of the apartment locks itself, so in the thirty seconds it takes for Alex to take out the garbage, she manages to get herself locked out of the house.
"Dammit," she says out loud, more surprised than irritated, really. Then reality sets in, and even though there's no one inside, she bangs on the door a few times for good measure before traipsing down to the lobby to find the doorman.
She doesn't even have her shoes on, she realizes between the third and second floors.
This just gets better and better.
The doorman doesn't look surprised to see her, but he has to search her for a moment, trying to place her.
"8A," Alex says, and his face brightens with recognition.
"That's right! Miss . . . "
"Cabot," she supplies, and she would be annoyed except she's got bigger problems to deal with.
"How can I help you?"
She informs him of the situation and they laugh politely at Alex's predicament. "It happens to the best of us, don't worry," he says. His name is Eugene, she thinks. "My cousin's a locksmith. Want me to put in a call?"
Alex wonders if that is supposed to be rhetorical, and then she wonders what's in it for Eugene. He just happens to have a cousin who's a locksmith, of course. Chances are he's probably only trying to help, but this is Manhattan, and Alex herself has prosecuted cases where a locksmith changes the lock on the front door, and then comes back to the apartment twelve hours later for a good old-fashioned B & E.
What is she supposed to say though? Don't give your cousin a call? She's sitting out here in her sweatpants and a ratty old T-shirt that once belonged to Rory and no one else that she knows of has another key.
She'll find another locksmith tomorrow to replace the lock that this locksmith is going to put in.
It's ten o'clock on a Friday night, and Eugene's cousin will be here in twenty. This is Manhattan. The twenty-four hour mini mart in Stars Hollow would have closed two hours ago.
Alex sits on one of the marble benches out in the lobby, waits. She catches a glimpse of her socks; they have owls on them. She remembers Lorelai buying them at the checkout counter of Urban Outfitters, holding them up and saying, "They'll make your feet wise."
Alex curls her toes in until the muscles hurt, and then Eugene's cousin is here. Jonah, like the guy with the whale, he offers in a pathetic attempt at small talk. He prattles on about the Knicks as he dissembles Alex's front door, and when he asks her how it happened, she says, "I forgot."
"You forgot? This is a twelve-hundred dollar lock. You sprang for a twelve-hundred dollar lock and didn't read the instructions?"
In Stars Hollow, no one locks their doors. Sometimes Lorelai even leaves her keys in the door, basically inviting any sort of petty burglar to come in and help himself. It never happened though, never will. They'll leave their doors unlocked forever. Stars Hollow never tries to keep anybody out.
"All right, say the magic word and we're done here," Jonah says as he finishes unscrewing something and drops the screwdriver back into his toolbox. He opens the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm, gesturing for Alex to step in, and he says, "Welcome home."
Instead this is some random weird ficlet thing I cooked up because Sue and Gretchen are so not cooperating. Try to figure out where in the non-existent timeline it is. I tried putting my Claire fics in chronological order, and it doesn't work. It just doesn't. So good luck.
It slips her mind that the door of the apartment locks itself, so in the thirty seconds it takes for Alex to take out the garbage, she manages to get herself locked out of the house.
"Dammit," she says out loud, more surprised than irritated, really. Then reality sets in, and even though there's no one inside, she bangs on the door a few times for good measure before traipsing down to the lobby to find the doorman.
She doesn't even have her shoes on, she realizes between the third and second floors.
This just gets better and better.
The doorman doesn't look surprised to see her, but he has to search her for a moment, trying to place her.
"8A," Alex says, and his face brightens with recognition.
"That's right! Miss . . . "
"Cabot," she supplies, and she would be annoyed except she's got bigger problems to deal with.
"How can I help you?"
She informs him of the situation and they laugh politely at Alex's predicament. "It happens to the best of us, don't worry," he says. His name is Eugene, she thinks. "My cousin's a locksmith. Want me to put in a call?"
Alex wonders if that is supposed to be rhetorical, and then she wonders what's in it for Eugene. He just happens to have a cousin who's a locksmith, of course. Chances are he's probably only trying to help, but this is Manhattan, and Alex herself has prosecuted cases where a locksmith changes the lock on the front door, and then comes back to the apartment twelve hours later for a good old-fashioned B & E.
What is she supposed to say though? Don't give your cousin a call? She's sitting out here in her sweatpants and a ratty old T-shirt that once belonged to Rory and no one else that she knows of has another key.
She'll find another locksmith tomorrow to replace the lock that this locksmith is going to put in.
It's ten o'clock on a Friday night, and Eugene's cousin will be here in twenty. This is Manhattan. The twenty-four hour mini mart in Stars Hollow would have closed two hours ago.
Alex sits on one of the marble benches out in the lobby, waits. She catches a glimpse of her socks; they have owls on them. She remembers Lorelai buying them at the checkout counter of Urban Outfitters, holding them up and saying, "They'll make your feet wise."
Alex curls her toes in until the muscles hurt, and then Eugene's cousin is here. Jonah, like the guy with the whale, he offers in a pathetic attempt at small talk. He prattles on about the Knicks as he dissembles Alex's front door, and when he asks her how it happened, she says, "I forgot."
"You forgot? This is a twelve-hundred dollar lock. You sprang for a twelve-hundred dollar lock and didn't read the instructions?"
In Stars Hollow, no one locks their doors. Sometimes Lorelai even leaves her keys in the door, basically inviting any sort of petty burglar to come in and help himself. It never happened though, never will. They'll leave their doors unlocked forever. Stars Hollow never tries to keep anybody out.
"All right, say the magic word and we're done here," Jonah says as he finishes unscrewing something and drops the screwdriver back into his toolbox. He opens the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm, gesturing for Alex to step in, and he says, "Welcome home."
no subject
The twenty-four hour mini mart in Stars Hollow would have closed two hours ago.
hehe... that is exactly what happens near my place (and I live in the Israel equivalent of Manhattan)
no subject
that is exactly what happens near my place (and I live in the Israel equivalent of Manhattan)
Oh no, that's TERRIBLE. I do believe our 7-11s open until midnight here, but all our other stores close at, like, 6. On weekends. I will never be able to understand that.
no subject
... and with the angsty goodness.
no subject
Hey, where's your RL blog? I want to see that entry about me. Also I'll send you another postcard from Vancouver if I remember to get one from UBC.
no subject
"You forgot? This is a twelve-hundred dollar lock. You sprang for a twelve-hundred dollar lock and didn't read the instructions?"
I feel like there is deep, complex symbolism here. However, I am too sleep-deprived to figure what it is.
no subject
There really isn't, but now that you mention it, it sounds kinda dirty :D