wizened_cynic | (no subject) (Reply)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY,

thatfangirl!!!

I'm still sorry about that time I linked you to the Alex/Olivia fic with the comfort fisting.

And now I'm sorry I mentioned it again.

Lorelai was half-joking when she made the suggestion.

"You should totally come to Stars Hollow," she said to Olivia after two very tall glasses of an old friend, the Long Island Iced Tea. She was beginning to see that the Long Island Iced Tea was a lot like those popular girls in junior high who pretended to be your friend, made you tell them who you secretly had a crush on, and then told everyone else about it at school the next morning. You'd swear never to hang out with them again, but the next time they invite you to a sleepover, you say yes without even thinking. Not only that, but you'd make them friendship bracelets.

It was a Pavlovian response, with a fair bit of Stockholm syndrome mixed in, "And that, my friend," Lorelai finished, "is the Long Island Iced Tea."

Everyone was silent, watching her, and for a second Lorelai expected applause. She expected something at least, something other than Claire's resigned, "Yeah, I think we're calling it a night."

"I would love to visit sometime," Olivia said. "The town sounds amazing."

"Yes," Lorelai said. Then, louder: "Yes, the town is amazing. The town is amazing and you should all come and visit, because the town. Is amazing."

"I'm going to call you two a cab," said the older guy. Not the one with the conspiracy theories, the one Claire called Captain something or other. The only captains Lorelai was familiar with were Crunch and Jack Sparrow, but even as drunk as she was right now --- oh ho ho ho, Merry Christmas and a bottle of rum, she was so drunk --- she knew it was neither.

The next morning, she woke up with the mother of the hangover that defined "hangover" in the Oxford English Dictionary. She moaned about wanting to die until Claire finally relented and poured about seven pints of coffee into her.

"Did I flash anyone?" Lorelai asked once her brain could form words again. She didn't remember lifting up her shirt at any point in time, but you never know. Besides, towards the end, everything got kind of blurry.

Claire took the empty mug away from her and set it on the bedside table. "No, you didn't. I made sure of that."

"Good. Because that could be awkward."

"It could, just a little bit."

"Let's keep the no-flashing-at-your-friends rule."

"Sounds great. In fact, let's extend it to the no-flashing-at-your-friends-either rule."

"I have never flashed any one of my friends," Lorelai said indignantly. Her voice was muffled by the pillows, but her head was throbbing too much to move. "But that seems like a pretty good suggestion. From now on, I'm only flashing you."

"I'm not going to object to that at this moment, but I reserve my right to future judgment on said matter," Claire said.

"That is way too many syllables for me right now." The word "syllables" had too many syllables right now. It hurt her ears. She closed her eyes. "Wake me up when my head stops hurting."

Lorelai felt a hand petting her hair, and then Claire walking away, heading out for her meeting to save the world or whatever it was that she did. The sudden absence in the room is almost palpable, the warm spot on the bed where Claire had been sitting the only reminder of her.

Claire would come back though, Lorelai knew, so that was all right.

Lorelai rolled over and went back to sleep.

Everything tastes like glue after sixty-five envelopes.

"Not helping," Lorelai says, as she pushes another forkful of cake into Alex's mouth. "What about this? Maple crunch. I'm only giving you a taste of the maple, not the crunch, but I had some of the crunch, and the crunch was excellent. Very crunchy, got that zing, oh my god would you just eat the damn cake already."

Alex chews thoughtfully, because otherwise she will never hear the end of it. "Too sweet," she remarks. "Also, how is this not helping?" She waves at the pile of invitations littered across their kitchen table.

"Everyone knows the cake is the heart of the wedding. Claire, don't you see? Everything that happens two weeks from now hinges on this very crucial decision. It's going to set the tone for the entire marriage. There will be consequences. So, what do you think of lemon?"

"Lemon's for funerals."

"I need you to be serious."

"I'm serious. They served it at the last, I don't know, six funerals I've been to."

"When did you have time to go to these funerals? You were supposed to be sending out the invitations!"

"Well, I'm sorry that my relatives are inconsiderate enough to die at the most inopportune times."

"You should be, you and your dead uncle-aunt-cousin-whatever. You don't see my relatives dying, do you? No, because they all know how important this is to me!"

"I'm going to need more cake if we want to finish this conversation," Alex says. She is rewarded with another mouthful of cake, this time something with a hint of raspberry. "Hey, this is good."

"Yeah? Better or worse than the chocolate-peanut butter with the disgusting amount of pudding in the middle?"

"Are you allowed to have pudding at a wedding?"

"I don't know, I'll have to look up 'lesbian wedding etiquette' on Wikipedia." Lorelai lets out a loud, irritated sigh. "I'm going to run back to Weston's for more samples."

"Bring back some more of the tiramisu."

"Oooh! The tiramisu!" Lorelai's expression brightens as she scribbles something onto the back of her hand. She plants a sloppy kiss on the crown of Alex's head and runs towards the door. "Keep licking. And don't get any crumbs on the invitations."

After the wedding, Alex pulls Paris aside and wishes her and Rory a long and lasting marriage.

No way in hell she is ever licking two hundred and twenty envelopes again.