This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily ( http://www.fanfiction.ws/profile.php?userid=288788 ) and CircleSky.

A Few Verses Short of a Christmas Carol

CHAPTER 7: The German Judge Awarded the Swans a 9.5 for Synchronization

Stretching, Lorelai opened her eyes and glanced at the bedside clock. "9:14 am." She grinned, remembering what day it was. Even though she couldn't recall when she'd finally fallen asleep, she felt strangely refreshed and invigorated. For that she was thankful, as it was likely going to be a very long day. She glanced over at her daughter, snuggled beneath the covers, sleeping soundly with a very content, very intriguing smile on her face.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty! Roorrrr-rrrryyy," Lorelai sang softly, shaking her daughter awake.

Rory squinted at her, blinded by the bright light that was streaming in through the window. As she brought her mind back from dreamland, the smile spread completely across her face, turning into a blissfully happy grin. "Merry Christmas, Mom," she mumbled cheerfully.

"'Bout time. I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away," Lorelai teased, not letting on that she too had just awoken. "What has you so happy? Good dream?"

"Mm… maybe," Rory said lazily, lifting her arms above her head and shaking the kinks out of her shoulders before sitting up and looking over at her mother.

"What about?"

"Oh, nothing," Rory said innocently even as she was incapable of wiping the smile off her face.

"C'mon, haven't I taught you anything?" Lorelai drolly reprimanded. "Dreams are that much better if you share 'em with the ones you love."

"In that case, what makes you think I'd share it with you?" Rory baited, jovial amusement flashing through her eyes.

"Oh, please! You know you love me!"

"Yeah?"

Lorelai scoffed. "How could you not? Not only am I the smartest person you've ever met, but I'm also the wittiest, the prettiest, and the classiest."

"Don't forget the most humble."

"How could I? Oh yeah, and I also have the most remarkable memory."

"Okay, you win," Rory conceded. "I guess I love you."

"Not as much as I love you, Sassy Girl. Now about that dream…"

"Shouldn't you be jumping up and down on the bed, begging me to let you open your presents like every other year?" Rory asked, changing the subject.

"You're looking at a calmer, more mature Lorelai Gilmore," Lorelai responded. "Besides, the presents aren't goin' anywhere, but your dream could fade. It's probably fading right now."

"Yep," Rory teased. "Guess I should've used Tide."

"I think you mean Cheer."

"My mistake."

"Arg, Rory!" Lorelai moaned in whiny frustration. "Don't make me pull out my trump card. I was saving it for a rainy day."

"What trump card?" Rory asked nervously.

"My compensation for telling you about Bad-Tan. You didn't think I'd forget, did you?"

Rory moaned. "I'm going downstairs to open presents," she said as she moved to climb out of bed.

"No way, Missy!" Lorelai ordered, grabbing her arm to stop her. "I want my compensation. You owe me. Sit back and dish the dirt!"

Rory grumpily sat back against the pillows. She'd wanted to keep this dream all for herself. Thinking back on it, in fact, brought a blush to her cheeks, and she smiled shyly.

"Ooh, now I'm really curious," Lorelai cooed as she noticed Rory's reddened face. "Did you have another dirty dream about Michael Vartan?"

"Mom, that was your dream. Not mine."

"Oh right," Lorelai said, smiling at the memory. "That was such a good dream. Who knew all the things that Secret-Agent Man could do?" When Lorelai realized how much she sounded like Miss Patty, she cleared her throat and returned to the task at hand. "But we're not talking about me. Who, besides Mr. Vartan, could get a girl blushing like that?"

"Mom…" Rory groaned.

"Rory," Lorelai mocked.

"Fine," she sighed. "I had a dream about someone you and I both know, and it's kind of embarrassing."

"Embarrassing… really? Interesting. Who do you and I both know?" Lorelai took in a deep, exaggerated breath. "Rory! Why I do declare! I'd never have guessed."

"Guessed what?" Rory asked, scared at where her mother's crazy mind could've gone.

"You had a dirty dream about Taylor, didn't you? I knew all of that town meeting innuendo of his would get to you eventually. Was he wielding his giant gavel?"

As horrified as Rory was, she couldn't help but laugh. "That is so disturbing."

Lorelai shuddered. "Yeah, it kind of is, isn't it? I'm so sorry."

"Apology accepted," Rory said, still chuckling a little.

"So…" Lorelai prodded. "You know I live for our banter, but those presents are calling my name, and, on principle, I cannot go open them until I yank this information out of you."

"You aren't gonna like it."

"It can't be any worse than Taylor."

"You might think it is."

"'Lorelai! Lorelai!' Can you hear those gifts, Rory? They're getting upset with me. They're probably unravelling their ribbons right now to use as a noose." Even as Lorelai spoke, she was trying to come up with dream candidates. Suddenly, the answer was obvious, and her face fell a little. "Wow, Rory. This dream had to do with a certain seventeen-year-old diner boy, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Rory whispered, blushing again.

"Geez!" Lorelai grinned conspiratorially. "How dirty was this dream?"

"It wasn't. It was nice."

"Nice, huh?" Lorelai asked. "How nice?"

"Really nice," Rory answered, the grin bright on her face again.

"A really nice dream about Jess. I can't imagine." Lorelai looked at her daughter curiously. "Did something happen yesterday at the party? I didn't see you the whole night."

"No!" Rory said much too forcefully.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much. What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened. How can you possibly not be dying to open your presents?"

"Oh!" Lorelai cheered, coming to another sudden realization. "Jess was your Secret Santa, wasn't he? I was right! Dang, I knew I should've bet money." Rory fell silent. Lorelai looked at her closely and, seeing the serious expression on her face, said gently, "He was your Secret Santa, right?"

"Yeah," Rory answered quietly.

"And that's what led to our little Christmas Eve powwow last night. You want to start seeing him."

"I don't know." Rory's heart started thumping wildly at the possibility.

"If you were smiling that much because of a dream, Honey, I think you know. I think we both know."

"I'm not going to hurt Dean. I won't hurt Dean."

"As much as I really hate to say this, Rory, because you know how I feel about Jess and you know how much I like Dean… I think you'll hurt Dean more if you stay with him when you have feelings for someone else. So if you want to be with Jess…"

"I care about Dean. I care about Dean so much, Mom. But when I'm with Jess…"

"It's different," Lorelai finished for her.

"He reads the books I read. He listens to the music I like. He's so smart, Mom," Rory said, desperately wanting her mom to understand. "You wouldn't believe how smart he is because he doesn't let on. And he can be so infuriatingly closed-off sometimes, you know that, but then he does something that's so amazing and so unexpected that I just can't be mad at him."

"You really like him."

Rory blushed. "I think I do… maybe. Are you mad?"

"No," Lorelai said honestly. "I just want you to be happy, and if Real-Jess somehow manages to make you as happy as Dream-Jess did this morning, how could I be mad about that? It's nice to see you happy."

Rory smiled and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. Lorelai looked down at Rory with a childlike grin. "Hey Kiddo! It's Christmas."

"Yes, it is," Rory agreed. She caught the glint in her mother's eyes and knew what was coming next.

Lorelai squealed and leapt up. She started jumping up and down on the bed, causing Rory's reclined body to bounce against the mattress. "Rory! Rory! Can we open presents now? Puh-lease! Pretty please!!!"

Rory laughed. "Let's go."

***

An hour later, pieces of holiday wrapping paper debris lay strewn around the Gilmores' Christmas tree. Neither woman noticed the mess they'd made though, instead focusing on the gift they'd most recently unwrapped.

"Rory, I just love this!" Lorelai fawned as she checked out the track listing on the back of the bootleg Bangles CD she'd just opened. "An acoustic version of 'Eternal Flame'? Does life get any better than that? I'm putting it in."

Rory silently thanked Lane's ingenuity as she watched her mother leap up and stumble through the flood of wrapping paper towards the CD player. Lorelai abruptly stopped the Chipmunk's rendition of "Silent Night" and popped in the Bangles. She skipped forward to the desired track and turned to walk back to Rory. As the song started, Lorelai paused to sigh happily and then, shoving empty boxes out of the way, plopped back down on the floor. "How'd I get so lucky?" she asked her daughter.

"You must have good karma. You behaved yourself in a former life," Rory suggested.

"Behaved myself, huh? Go figure." Lorelai lifted up some paper and glanced around.

"What are you looking for? I think we opened them all."

"No, I know there's one more for you here somewhere," she said, hurling paper left and right. "The talk of karma reminded me."

"Huh?" Rory gave her mom a confused look.

Lorelai got down on her hands and knees and crawled across the mounds of paper towards the tree, flinging boxes and bags left and right. "A-ha! Here it is!" she cheered triumphantly before crawling back towards Rory and setting a flat, wrapped box on her lap.

Rory smiled. "Looks like clothes to me."

"I guess you'll just have to open it!"

Rory tore into the paper and slipped her fingers along the side of the box, releasing the tape. She lifted the lid, shoved some tissue paper aside, and lifted out a baby blue, short-sleeved T-shirt. As she unfolded it, a wide grin spread across her face. Written across the shirt in flowing pink script was the phrase, "Oy with the Poodles Already!"

"Our catchphrase is officially immortalized," Lorelai declared, looking to Rory for her reaction.

"I love it, Mom! It's so great!"

"It matches your eyes," Lorelai pointed out. "Not only does it make a fabulous statement, but it'll also make you look even more breathtakingly gorgeous."

Rory set the shirt back in the box and hugged her mother tightly.

"I'm glad you like it, Sweetie," Lorelai said gratefully as they pulled away.

"You always give the best presents."

"You don't do so bad yourself. We really cleaned up this year."

"That we did," Rory agreed. "Hey, did you get this shirt made when you did Luke's cap?"

"I did."

"Very sly of you. I can't believe you kept it a secret."

"Sometimes I amaze even myself."

"Hey, speaking of Luke, how did he like his gift? I can't believe I forgot to ask earlier."

"You had a lot on your mind," Lorelai said dismissively. "Wow… look at the mess we made." She dragged herself up from the floor and retrieved the black garbage bag they'd brought into the room earlier and then promptly ignored.

"Well, did he like it?" Rory asked again, standing to help Lorelai shove the paper remnants into the bag.

"He seemed to, yeah."

"How'd you give it to him?"

"I made him close his eyes, and I switched his new hat for his old one."

"I bet that drove him crazy."

"Indeed, it did."

"So what'd he do?"

"Well, he moaned, groaned, complained, and kissed me," Lorelai prattled off, trying to sound casual.

Rory paused with her hand in mid-air, holding a pile of wrapping paper above the garbage bag. She stared at her mother, wide-eyed. "He what?"

"It's not what you think," Lorelai contended. "Patty lured us under some mistletoe. We didn't have a choice."

"So you just gave each other a quick kiss … on the cheek or something?"

Lorelai looked up and met Rory's eyes. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Rory repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It might have been three kisses."

Rory's eyes went even wider. She dropped the paper on the floor and moved to sit down on the couch, dragging her mother with her. Once seated and facing each other, she said excitedly, "You kissed Luke… three times… last night… and you are just telling me now?"

"It's really not a big deal."

"It isn't? They were just three small, irrelevant kisses?"

"Well… what do you classify as small?"

"Oh my God, Mom! This is so exciting!"

"This isn't exciting, Rory. Please calm down… I'm already wigged out enough."

"They weren't good?"

"That's the problem. They were amazing," Lorelai sighed happily, thinking back to the night before. "I don't know where Luke learned to kiss like that. It was like I was in an old movie or something."

"So what happened afterwards?"

"Um… he thanked me for the gifts. I thanked him for… something."

Rory giggled. It sounded very familiar. "You thanked him? That was very polite."

"And the tables are turned," Lorelai groaned. "Don't be mean to me! Can't you see I'm stressed?"

"Sorry," Rory apologized, smirking. "So you thanked each other and then…"

"We walked away, and I haven't talked to him since."

"Wow. What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, Hun. It's confusing. This is Luke."

"Yeah, Mom. This is Luke. Luke who has always been there for you and who treats you better than anyone and who has never been anything but wonderful to us."

"You aren't helping. I need to think about this. I just need time to think."

"OK," Rory agreed. "But just for the record, I think this could be a really good thing."

"For the record, I might think so too… maybe," Lorelai said with a smile. "But now that you and Jess might… I mean, would it be weird for you?"

"No," Rory said honestly. "We can't help that the best ones are all Danes."

"So true, Child. So true."

"We should finish cleaning up. We hafta get ready for Grandma and Grandpa's soon."

"Ugh!" Lorelai groaned. "Just what I need. A full day of Christmas cheer and merriment courtesy of Richard and Emily Gilmore. You better love Chilton because I'm sacrificing my youthful good looks so you can go there. Every second with them ages me by at least a year."

Rory smiled sympathetically and started picking up the paper scraps again.

"Hey, Ror," Lorelai said softly. When Rory looked up, she continued, "As soon as I figure this all out, I'll let you know."

"I know you will." Rory smiled. Then, together, they finished cleaning up the mess that was their living room.

***

"Mom! C'mon!" Rory yelled up the stairs. "You've been up there forever. Grandma and Grandpa are going to be expecting us soon."

"Mommy's making herself pretty," Lorelai yelled back. "It's wrong to hurry the process."

"I didn't realize we were trying to impress anyone."

Lorelai peeked her head around the corner at the top of the stairs. "Impress? Are you kidding? I'm trying to find the outfit that will most horrify my mother. And with my whole closet full of choices, I'm finding it very hard to pick just one. Hey, you look great," she said, noticing Rory's outfit for the first time. "Except for the blatant lack of an 'Oy with the Poodles Already' T-shirt."

"As much as I enjoyed you endlessly begging me to put it on, I just don't think Grandma and Grandpa will appreciate the humour of it."

"You're no fun!"

"Mom! Go find an outfit! They probably want us there before Easter."

"Do you think they'd actually wait that long? Because that isn't such a bad idea."

"Go!" Rory ordered, shooing her mother with her hand. When she saw Lorelai retreat back down the hallway, she returned to her place on the couch, picked up her book, and began reading and furiously scribbling.

A good half-hour later, Lorelai sauntered down the stairs. "Okay, Sweets, I think I've finally found the perfect balance between sophisticated sluttiness and trampy elegance. Thoughts?"

Rory looked up from her book and appraised her mother, grateful to find her in a demure but funky wine-coloured dress. "You look purty," Rory said, smiling. "Hey, is that dress new?"

"Why, yes it is! 'Tis better to give than to receive… but, as we Gilmores know, 'tis even better to give, receive, and give to oneself!"

Rory giggled. "We Gilmores are wise beyond our years."

"So have I adequately captured the street-walking, corner-standing look I was goin' for?"

"Richard Gere should be climbing up our fire escape with a bouquet of flowers any second now."

"Mission accomplished," Lorelai said proudly. "Okay, I'm putting my shoes on and grabbing coats. Which one do you want? I was thinking the Michael Jackson 'Thriller' knockoff might go well with your outfit. Any complaints?"

"I think my regular old black, wool, knee-length coat should suffice this evening, but nice try."

"Okay, I'll grab it."

"Hey Mom. Can you give me a couple minutes? I only have two pages left in this chapter."

"Well, well, look who's stalling now!"

"I'm not stalling. I just need to finish this chapter."

"Homework?" Lorelai asked, watching as Rory bent her head back over her book. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't do homework until after Christmas."

"This isn't homework," Rory said as she scribbled her pen across the side margin of a page.

"Rory! What are you doing?" Lorelai asked with fake horror. "Are you vandalizing that book?"

"No," Rory answered, looking up. "Go put on your shoes. When I finish these pages, we are out that door, and no amount of you saying, 'Oops! I seem to have forgotten my purse!' or 'Oops, I have a run in my pantyhose!' is gonna get us back in this house."

"You're mean."

"You're dawdling."

"Hey, you're the one holding up the show here! When my mother asks why we're late, I'm going to tell them that I was ready to go, and you weren't."

"Fine. Be sure to stick out your tongue too. We wouldn't want you cutting corners on the childish behaviour routine. Now get the coats."

"Whatcha reading anyway?"

"Mom!"

"Geez. I'm going, I'm going!" Lorelai moped, dragging herself slowly towards the closet. Rory rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

***

Much later that evening, Lorelai watched Rory as she exited the jeep. "You're sure you don't want to come with me?" she asked desperately.

"Mom, I promised Dean I'd meet him."

"I know, I know."

"Besides, it's not like you can avoid this forever."

"Why do you always have to be so rational?"

"It's a curse," Rory answered before sending her mom a reassuring smile and heading towards Dean's.

As Rory walked away, Lorelai looked out at the building in front of her. Then, sighing, she reached into the backseat of the vehicle to retrieve a package and opened the door. She stepped out into the snowy wonderland, taking a moment to appreciate the frosty beauty around her, and then walked around the jeep and through the diner door.

As soon as she entered, her eyes flew straight to the counter and to the man standing behind it. He didn't look up. She glanced around the room at the various Stars Hollow residents who were innocently eating their meals and silently cursed and thanked them at the same time. Then, she walked towards the counter and casually sat down on a stool.

"Hey! What's a girl gotta do to get some coffee around here?" she teased, causing Luke to look up. She tried to gauge his reaction, and she swore she could've seen something there, but it was gone before she had time to identify it.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming in today," Luke said with a smile before turning to grab the pot of coffee and a giant mug.

"And deny myself of essential nourishment – life's drink – the reason for my existence? No way! Fill 'er up, Mister."

Luke poured the coffee into her cup and watched as she took a giant sip. "Mmm…" she praised.

"How was Christmas at your parents'?"

"Actually," she answered, holding the mug just below her mouth. "It wasn't so bad."

"Really?" Luke asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. My mother fired another maid – which, as you may or may not know, is a regular occurrence at the Gilmore Manor – but somehow my dad managed to convince her to give the poor woman a second chance. They actually almost seemed to be in the holiday spirit, my parents."

"That's good," Luke said.

"It was," Lorelai agreed before taking another gulp of coffee. "Of course, I still suspect the maid won't last 'til the end of the week."

"Well, at least she got one more day," Luke pointed out.

"When it comes to working for Emily Gilmore, that, My Friend, is a Christmas miracle."

Luke chuckled, his eyes making contact with Lorelai's. He quickly averted them and, in doing so, happened to turn his gaze to her now-empty coffee mug. "You want a refill?"

"You're offering me a refill?" Lorelai asked, eyes wide. "Already?"

"It's Christmas," Luke grumbled.

"Aw, Luke, you big softie! A refill would be great."

Luke turned to grab the coffeepot off its warmer, and, when he turned back, a wrapped package lay on the counter before him.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing at the gift with one hand as he filled her cup with the other.

"Umm… I think it's a Christmas present, Luke."

"Thanks, I figured that out. I meant, who's it for?"

"You."

"Me? You already gave me my five gifts."

"I know," Lorelai said, trying to sound nonchalant. "But this isn't from a Secret Santa to a Giftee. This one's from me to you."

Luke gave her a curious look.

"Go on, Luke. Open it."

As Lorelai watched expectantly, Luke lifted the gift and slowly removed the wrapping paper. Seeing what lay inside, he found himself speechless. He looked down at the framed photo in amazement. He hadn't seen this picture in years.

Even though he'd only been three or four, he remembered the moment perfectly. He'd spent the whole day with his dad in the hardware store, just watching him work and throwing out a ton of questions about the tools. Towards the end of the day, a young woman had walked in and, upon seeing the two of them together, had insisted on taking a picture. His dad had complained, of course, claiming that a photo would be a bad idea. Nevertheless, he'd soon lifted Luke up to stand on the counter in front of him, and, wrapping his arms around him protectively, he'd leaned to the side. He'd even flashed his distinctive, charming smile. His dad had figured they'd never actually see the picture, but about a month later, they received it in the mail. Luke remembered that his dad had given it to him for "safekeeping."

Lorelai saw the faraway look in Luke's eyes and began to doubt herself. Hesitantly, she interrupted his thoughts. "Do you like it?"

"Where'd you find this?" Luke asked, looking up at her.

"Jess did me a favour."

"Jess?"

"Yeah. I guess he's good for something," she joked. "Unless you hate it, in which case it was all his idea."

"Thank you," Luke said genuinely, and Lorelai knew just by his tone of voice and the look on his face that he liked it. He didn't need to say it out loud.

"You're welcome," Lorelai said, relaxing. "Your dad was quite the babe."

Luke smiled proudly. "The ladies seemed to like him."

"I bet they did." She paused, then forged ahead. "There's definitely a resemblance."

"Nah."

"Yeah, I bet your dad would be really proud if he could see you today."

Luke looked at her for a moment and then sighed. "Jess isn't around today so I better go take some orders."

"Don't let me stop ya. I should head out anyway. It's been a long day."

"OK," Luke said. He watched as Lorelai stood and began to put on her coat. As she turned to go, he stopped her. "Hey Lorelai."

She swung around to look at him. "Yeah?"

"I have something for you too."

"You do?" Lorelai asked, looking around for a package.

Luke smiled. "You live in Stars Hollow," he stated.

Perplexed, she looked at him. "Yes, I do," she said slowly.

"Have you ever noticed how you have this tendency to follow me around?"

"I do not!" Lorelai protested.

"'Luke, can I have some coffee? Luke, give me free food!'" Luke imitated.

"Okay, when it comes to food, I guess I follow you… a little."

"You live here… you follow me around…" Luke repeated.

Lorelai smiled suspiciously, recognizing the words even though she wasn't quite sure why or how. "Luke, I don't get it."

She watched Luke as he quickly glanced around the diner, then slowly unbuttoned the top few buttons of his flannel shirt. Even though she could only see a small part of the shirt he wore underneath, she immediately recognized the tip of the Starship Enterprise. She grinned widely. "Why, Luke Danes!" she teased as he re-buttoned his shirt before anyone else got a glimpse. "Did you wear that just for me?"

Luke paused as though contemplating his next move. Then, throwing caution to the wind, he leaned forward across the counter and said quietly, "I just want to make you happy."

Lorelai saw the sincerity on his face and heard the hope in his voice. Her heart began beating erratically as everything finally became clear. She knew exactly what she wanted. Her eyes twinkled devilishly as she moved closer to the counter. "What I wouldn't give for some mistletoe right now."

"I could find some," Luke suggested, looking at her hopefully.

"Ah, who needs it?" she asked mischievously before impulsively leaning over the counter and joining her lips to his.

***

The doorbell chimed, and Dean wrung his hands in response. He knew Rory was on her way over. She'd told him she'd come by once she returned from Christmas dinner at her grandparents' house in Hartford.

"I got it, Mom!" Dean called out towards the kitchen as he headed the opposite direction toward the foyer. Grasping the cold knob, he pulled the door open to reveal a bundled-up Rory. Her eyes were bright and shining with Christmas enthusiasm: like someone who had just opened presents or like someone for whom the appreciation of a snowfall had been ingrained. Her cheeks and nose were rosy, a colour just short of Santa Claus Cherry. The ends of her hair curled up around the bottom edge of her burgundy scarf, and the glow of the streetlights caught a few stray hairs in a sort of halo.

"Hey!" Dean said, hoping his voice was just the right amount of cheery. He felt uneasy about what he was about to ask of his girlfriend on an otherwise perfect Christmas evening.

"Merry Christmas!" she chimed and placed her hands on his shoulders. The gesture meant he was to lean down and kiss her, and so that was what he did. Since she was still standing on the outside steps, he had to bend down a little further than usual. He loved to kiss Rory, but the thought of it today didn't mix well with the subject on his mind. The two items melded inside him, like so much kneaded dough, and he felt queasy.

The kiss, however, loosened him up a bit. "Merry Christmas," he drawled as their lips drew apart.

"Let's go for a walk," she suggested. "The snowfall is so pretty."

"There's a little of your mother in you," Dean noted as he grabbed his coat off the hook. He slipped his shoes on, and, just before they stepped out into the snowy night, he called out to his mother, announcing he'd be back later.

It was comfortable to hold her hand, after so many months of doing so, thus he grasped her mitten-clad hand in his own. The two of them strolled down the walkway. It was chilly so he stuffed his other hand in his jacket pocket. Meanwhile, he couldn't help but notice with a smile as Rory, face turned upwards, was watching snowflakes land on her cute, pink nose.

"You'll go cross-eyed if you do that."

"Yeah. But you'll still love me."

"I'll always love you."

"If you know what's good for you, you will," she asserted offhandedly, to which Dean sighed. She picked up on his mood then, as was her normal tendency, and changed her tone. "I wasn't seriously threatening you, you know."

"No… I know."

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean took his time answering her. He guided her off the sidewalk and to the park playground that was at the end of his street. "Nothing's wrong."

"Uh-huh," she replied with a sarcastic bent.

"I've got two tickets to Two Towers," he began. Now it was Rory's turn to sigh, Dean noted. The sound further cemented his belief that he was doing the right thing. "I was wondering if you'd like to go."

Rory bit her lip. "You know I don't really wanna see that movie. The first book was never the same after seeing the first one."

"Yeah, I know," Dean replied slowly as the two of them continued to make their way to the playground. He spoke offhandedly. "Well… since you don't want to go, I guess I'll go with someone else."

"Yeah. Todd might like to go."

"Yeah," Dean exhaled. This is going to be hard, he thought, and he exhaled again before adding, "Actually, there's a friend of mine who's already suggested we go together."

"Oh, good," she smiled. Clearly, she was happy to be off the hook. Her face turned away from his, and she once again took in the spectacle of falling snow.

"Linda Leftler," Dean added before wincing. There. He'd said it. And that was when the smile froze on Rory's face. She'd been in the middle of giving his hand a squeeze when her fingers had frozen too.

"A girl?" she questioned, pinpricks of hurt and confusion carrying themselves on the wings of her voice; they stabbed at his heart.

"Yeah. She is," he replied as nonchalantly as he knew how.

"Is it a date?"

"No. It's just two friends seeing a movie," he bargained, now pleading. He felt out of control. He was silently begging her to understand there was nothing between him and Linda, all the while not being sure of it himself.

They'd reached the jungle gym by that time, and Rory dropped his hand to go sit on a swing by herself. She sat dejectedly, her mittened hands on the chains and her legs vaguely pushing her body back and forth. Thankfully, she wasn't crying. Instead, her eyes just focused on the snowy ground with determination.

Dean collapsed on the swing next to hers, wrapped his arms around the chains, and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. They weren't touching anymore, and the separation was profound.

"Do you want to date other people?" she asked him after a long silence. She didn't know why the idea of Dean with another girl was bothering her. It meant that she would be free too.

"No!" he assured her in an utterance that could only be described as a reflex action. As quickly as he said it, however, he immediately began to backtrack. "Uh… unless you want to."

"No, I don't," she replied slowly, lying through her teeth. "But you want to go out with Linda."

"It's not like we'd be 'going out'," he stressed. "More like 'hanging out'."

"Dean," she admonished. "I'm not stupid. It would be a date. I know it would be." He'd been meeting her eyes then, and there was no way he could lie to her. Instead, he just fell silent, his lips parted as though she'd pointed out something otherwise unseen by him. He didn't know what he was supposed to say so he waited for her to speak first.

"Actually, I lied," she went on cautiously, thinking that she should just get it over with. There would never be another chance like this to admit what she so desperately needed to say. She turned her eyes away from him, afraid to witness the look on his face when she said it at last. "There… is someone that I'd kinda like to…"

"Date," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Jess," Dean growled, feeling that familiar tightening in his jaw, the familiar grimace he always felt at the thought of Jess winning his girlfriend away from him.

But tonight, on this beautiful Christmas night, when the air was brimming with magical possibility, Dean took a moment to savour the pain and anger and then just… let the feeling go. He took a purposeful, steadying breath but discovered that, surprisingly, it hadn't really been necessary; he wasn't half as upset about Rory dating Jess as he would have expected to be.

"Are you mad?"

Dean pushed himself back and forth on the swing, his feet never leaving their spot on the earth. He turned away from her gaze and watched as snowflakes fell and melted on the lap of his jeans. "I'll be all right. I'm not mad."

"You're not?" she said with just enough surprise and disbelief to start the smirk spreading across his lips.

Dean swallowed and turned his eyes to the evergreen trees before them. "It's not like I didn't see it coming. I know you like Jess."

"Oh." They sat there in a moment of silence, both absently swinging themselves, and when she added, "I do like Jess," Dean felt no pain.

***

Lane felt more comfortable under the dark shroud of night. She scooted along, keeping to the shadows, her feet barely skimming the lightly trodden snow. When she reached the walkway, she gave one final glance around her, searching for the one lurking person who would be her downfall. Lane heard silence, and, through the fluffy flakes of snow drifting to the earth, she saw no one. Her eyes twinkled at the spy-less sight. A perfect crime!

Quietly, she quickly turned up the walkway, and, bypassing the front door, she followed the path around to the back of the house. In mere moments, she found the window she sought - the light was still on and the various tour posters on the wall inside revealed all she needed to know. The 'Eric Burdon & the Animals 1968 Whisky A Go-Go' poster was the first one to greet her. 'The Velvet Underground at the Fillmore,' the Stones, David Bowie, and the Ramones followed shortly thereafter. Needless to say, Lane was impressed by the sight.

With only the briefest hesitation, she crouched low and picked her way through the tall shrubbery. "Urh-h-h," she uttered gutturally and shivered as a branch whacked her on the back of the head, and a good amount of the snow it carried found its way directly down her coat. She was thankful no one had seen that temporary moment of indignity. Recovering her poise, she found herself beside the house, hidden by a wall on one side and a row of hedges on the other.

Taking off her backpack and laying it beside her feet, she crouched down by the side of the window and listened for a second, waiting for the heat of her blush to subside. Inside, she heard the smooth, melodic strains of Miles Davis's How Deep is the Ocean, and it lit up her whole face in a smile. It felt like the home she should have had.

Catching her breath, Lane tried to calm her nerves. She reminded herself that this wasn't completely out of the blue and that she was doing the right thing. When her breathing had slowed to normal, but before her heart had stopped its incessant pounding, she tapped lightly on the frosted pane of glass.

Dave peeked around the corner and caught sight of Lane beside his window. He pushed open the sash with a look of amazement colouring his handsome features. "Lane?"

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

He looked happy to see her, but, still, she faltered slightly. "Um. I came to see you."

"No, I mean, why are you in the bushes?"

The smile barely wavered on her face. "Do I need to remind you of my mother?"

Dave nodded and smiled. "No. Right. It's OK. Whether you're in the bushes or not, it's still good to see you."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Let me get my coat. We can go out for coffee or something."

"Are you kidding? No one can see me outside - it might get back to my mother. I'm supposed to be snug in my bed entertaining visions of sugar plums right now."

"So what do you want to do?" Dave smiled with understanding but asked cheekily, "Hang out in the bushes?"

"OK."

Dave laughed. "I was kidding."

"I wasn't," Lane replied, and they chuckled together for a moment.

"OK, let me get my coat; I'll be right out." Dave closed the window and, pushing away from it, disappeared from the room. A short while later, as Lane was still crouched and facing his window, she almost jumped when she heard him come around behind her. Unexpectedly, he had used the door. Lane had to remind herself that not everyone needed to sneak in and out of windows.

He brought with him a couple of folded blankets and dropped one down on the snow-dusted ground under the window. "Have a seat," he offered, and she gratefully took him up on it. Her shins had grown tired of crouching and to sit down was like a dream come true. He sat down beside her and placed the other blanket over their knees. When they were comfortable, he presented her with a large, flat, wrapped box.

"Oh!" she said, surprised. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he replied, smiling.

The package felt relatively heavy, and Lane eagerly ripped it open. Her eyes misted over a bit when she saw the contents. "You got me a tunable practice pad!"

"Yeah, I know you've been practicing on pots and pans. That's just not right," Dave said, shaking his head sadly. "These things are great because they emulate the feel of a real drum. And," Dave went on, revealing the thought he'd put into the gift choice. "It's less than a foot wide and fairly thin so it should be pretty easy for you to hide it from your mom. I got you a stand for it too, but it's still in the house. It's only an individual stand," he apologized.

"No, this is perfect! The whole drumset configuration would have been impossible to hide. Dave, this gift is the best!" Impulsively, she turned towards him and threw an arm around his shoulders, hugging both him and the beloved practice pad enthusiastically.

Dave chuckled at her exuberance and returned the hug. "You're welcome. Now you should have no problem running through those ratamacues and buzz rolls."

"Oh, no problem at all! I'll use it every chance I get!" Lane cried before abruptly realizing how much she was throwing herself at him. Not in a "hitting on him" kind of way but in a literal "piling herself on top of him" way. Suddenly shy, she cleared her throat and pulled back. " Um," she said, bashful and flustered. "I got you something too." Placing the drum pad on her lap, she reached over and pulled her backpack towards them. She heaved the heavy package out of the bag and passed it along.

"It's big," he said.

"I guess you've been good this year," she teased, trying to cover up her own nervousness.

Dave laughed softly, and, with one final glance at her eyes, he turned and focused on the present in his lap. He tore off the wrapping paper and found The Beatles Anthology inside it. "Hey, Lane! Sweet!" he exclaimed as he read the silver book jacket on the hefty autobiography.

"Yeah, you like it?"

"Do I ever!" he enthused before turning to her and adopting a tone of genuine gratefulness. "Lane, this is awesome." He opened the book right away and placed it on his lap, a little towards his left so that it was partially on her lap as well. They could read it by the dim light spilling out from the window behind them. He chose a random paragraph and began reading in a commentator's voice.

"It was never an overnight success. When we began to headline bills on theatres, we felt we had really arrived. The next ladder to climb was radio. It was a gentle thing; we had conquered the clubs - we'd conquered the Indra, we'd conquered the Cavern - and we had gradually become quite known, so it was, 'Well, what's left? Radio!'" Dave smiled and turned his gaze back to her eyes. "That is so gonna be us someday."

"Wow. Radio," Lane gasped, meeting his gaze. Then, she collected herself. "I guess I'll have to tell my mother about my being in a band before then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Dave admitted, his eyes twinkling. "But we can concentrate on the clubs for now. We've still got a little time." He flipped the page and began reading elsewhere. "In those old Cavern days, half the thing was just ad lib; what you'd call comedy. We just used to mess about, jump into the audience, do anything."

"Can you imagine that? Skits and stuff?" Lane giggled. "I see it now: 'And now we present to you… the Great Brian Powell and his astoundingly audible deviated septum!'"

Dave laughed too. "Maybe we should just stick to the music."

"I think that would be wise."

That being said, Lane leaned back against his house, a smile on her face and her heart full. Although they were safely hidden from the houses across the alley, the bushes still offered a breathtaking view of the night sky. She caught a glimpse of the light snow fluttering gently to the earth before Dave's next words drew her eyes back to his animated face.

"I can't believe you showed up in my bushes," he teased, also leaning back until his shoulder brushed hers.

"I go to great lengths to lead a normal life."

"And yet you're in bushes," he added, eyes dancing.

Lane laughed at the irony, her eyes growing sparkly with mischief. "You ma-a-ay be right. I ma-a-ay be crazy," she sang softly, to which a smile lit up his face.

"But it just may be a lu-u-unatic you're looking for," he replied, immediately catching her drift and singing along through his laughter.

"It's too late to fight."

"It's too late to change me," he came back, imitating Billy Joel's vocal stylings perfectly. He joined her in singing the last line, "You may be wrong, for all I know! But you may be right."

At the end of the chorus, they both erupted in laughter. As Lane conjured up the amusing image of some passerby hearing the shrubs burst with song and hilarity, she couldn't help thinking how good it felt to spend this crazy moment with Dave. She shivered.

"Getting cold?"

"No. I'm fine."

"We can go in the house."

"No, I really shouldn't."

"I'm not hiding you from my parents, you know. C'mon, they won't say anything to your mom."

"Well…" Lane hesitated.

"C'mon. They'll love you. You can meet my little brother." He saw the indecision still clouding her face and offered one last plan of attack. "We have hot chocolate," he lured.

"OK," she finally caved, giving in to temptation. She let Dave pull her from the bushes.

***

As Lane enjoyed a comfortable evening in the Rygalski home, Lorelai and Rory were across town, taking a walk through the chilly night air and the precious snowfall.

"So, you're all right?" Lorelai asked hesitantly, tucking her scarf a little tighter around her neck.

Rory thought about this for a moment and decided she could answer with complete certainty. "Yeah, I am. And you?"

"Better than all right, Babe," she enthused, thinking about how everything in her life seemed to be falling into place. She was distracted from her happy thoughts, however, by the unusual action that was taking place across the street in front of Doose's Market.

"Check it out," Lorelai suggested, nodding her head in the direction of Kirk.

"What the –" Rory wondered as she caught sight of Kirk adopting a theatrical pose, holding an object to the sky with one hand and gesturing grandly towards it with the other.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" He gestured, rolling his R's as he spoke. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate!"

"What in the world?" Lorelai wondered aloud. "What is that thing he's holding?"

"I think it's a fruit."

"I know he's a fruit, but what's the fruit holding?"

Rory giggled even through her rampant disbelief. "Is it an orange?"

"Hmm…" Lorelai disagreed. "An apple maybe?"

Rory blinked her eyes and stared more intently. "I think it's a ... kumquat?"

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May," Kirk went on, lamenting the plight of the delicate kumquat. "And summer's lease hath all too short a date."

"Quite the thespian," Rory remarked.

"I'm finding it comforting to know he's across the street from us. Do you find that?"

"Oh yeah. Distance is our friend," Rory concurred, still watching him steadily.

"G'evening, Lorelai, Rory," he called across to them as he became aware of their presence. He didn't seem the slightest bit taken aback to have been caught reciting Shakespearean love sonnets to a member of the citrus family.

They greeted him sincerely and watched as he then turned back to the fruit and continued his ode. "When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see," he cried dramatically. "So long lives this, and this gives life to thee!"

Rory and Lorelai promptly brought their heads together and lowered their voices. "Wow. He just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Rory staggered.

"I'll say. He really freaked his Giftee out when he gave her all of those sexy books."

Rory nodded, remembering the encounter in the bookstore five days earlier. She couldn't believe so much had happened in such a short time. Turning to her mother, she asked of Kirk's Giftee, "So she flipped out?"

"Yeah, Luke and I saw the whole thing at the party last night. I guess she couldn't take what the books were insinuating."

"Well, it was an unusual gift choice."

"I'll say."

"That boy's peculiar," Rory said, and the two of them turned their heads back to Kirk and continued on their way past him.

"He's crazy," Lorelai agreed.

"Insane."

"Eccentric and odd."

Rory laughed as she began, "He's a few…"

"…Verses short of a Christmas carol!" they both finished up in unison. Lorelai joined in the laughter as they continued winding their way through downtown Stars Hollow.

"I think we've found a new seasonal slogan, my friend."

"I think you're right, mi amiga."

"So it's Christmas night. You know what that means."

"Resolutions," Rory agreed.

"Yes. Resolutions. New Year's resolutions. We've gotta get crackin'. There're only 6 days left to decide on the very best ones."

"A festive person's work is never done."

"I know. Celebration is such drudgery," Lorelai lamented.

"Ooh! Ooh! I've got one. How's this? In 2003, I resolve to beat the world's record for the number of people squeezed into one Volkswagen Beetle!"

"Ooh, tough one," Lorelai said, impressed. "28 is a lot of people."

"I know. But I got game."

"Guinness, here you come!"

"How about this one?" Rory added. "In 2003, I resolve to freeze hell over and teach pigs to fly."

"So negative!" Lorelai declared.

"It's not negative at all," Rory pouted. "It says that I'm going to take the impossible and make it possible!"

"Huh," Lorelai considered. "Come to think of it, you're right, Daughter Dear. Hey, I've got one too. How does 'I resolve to learn tap-dancing' grab you?"

"Where it hurts."

"Oh… yeah. It's not my best work."

"You can definitely do better."

"What if I added fruit to it? Then, even Kirk could appreciate it. 'I resolve to learn to tap-dance while balancing a basket of fruit on top of my head'," she stated decisively.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Rory managed to get out before her giggles took over. "I think Miss Patty teaches a course in that."

"In 2003," Lorelai went on, letting their silliness carry her away. "I resolve to dye my hair fuchsia and tour the world preaching the wonders of strawberry lollypops."

"Good, good," Rory nodded. "I still maintain they have healing properties."

"Of course, 'cause how can you feel bad when you're eating a strawberry lollypop?"

"Exactly. In 2003," Rory broke in. "I resolve to take a two-toed sloth on a scenic trip around the world. Two-toed sloths so rarely get to travel. I bet they'd like Spain."

"In 2003, I resolve to find you a two-toed sloth so you can make all your dreams come true!"

Rory giggled again and then grew serious. "What's your real resolution, Mom?"

Lorelai took a moment to think it over while she uttered, "Ummm." Rory looked up at her expectantly until Lorelai finally answered. "In 2003, I resolve never to deny my heart its true desires."

"Ooh, good one," Rory agreed genuinely.

"Yeah, I thought so too!" Lorelai enthused, proud of her pronouncement. But, she worried, "You don't think it's too sappy, do you?"

"No. It's just sappy enough," Rory assured her with a nod of the head and a pat on her mother's shoulder. Actually, all joking aside, her mother's pledge had breathed a sense of inspiration into Rory. She silently pledged that resolution for herself as well.

"Oh good. Then it's perfect."

"Yes, it is."

They had wandered quite a distance by that time and were now making their way along a winding path through a park. "Hey, look at what Kirk's doing now!" Lorelai exclaimed exaggeratedly, pointing across Rory at a spot in the distance. In the second her daughter had turned her head away, Lorelai grabbed a mitt-full of snow and tossed it at her, the icy sprinkles shimmering in the light of the street lamps.

"Hey!" cried Rory, almost immediately scrambling to gather her own snow. "I can't believe I fell for that!"

"I can't either!" Lorelai laughed as she too gathered snow. They threw their respective grenades at the same time, each missing their target by inches in their excitement. Quickly, they stooped down to reload and launched second attempts. This time, Lorelai managed to peg Rory square in the chest, and the snow burst into the girl's face. "Direct hit!" Lorelai whooped, throwing her hands into the air and doing a touchdown dance.

"Pthe! Pthe!" Rory sputtered, still in good spirits. "That's it. You die!" The look on Rory's face must have been formidably daunting because Lorelai, squealing with glee, took off at a run. Laughing maniacally, Rory gave chase.

Lorelai ran across the park grounds as fast as her high-heeled winter boots would allow, laughing breathlessly. She cut a path through the pristine snow up a slight incline. It was on the down-slope where she slipped and, laughing, tumbled backwards into a cushiony snow bank.

Rory, with a fresh handful of snow, crested the hill and pounced, knowing Lorelai to be a waiting target. Unexpectedly, however, she found the same patch of slickness that her mother had, and her feet took off without her. With a resounding "Whoo-ah-ah!" she landed with a dull thud and slid right up beside her mother, snow flooffing up into the air and spraying a still-prone Lorelai. When Rory comprehended what had happened, she relaxed her head onto the snow and turned a cheerful face to meet her mother's. They promptly burst out laughing, making no move to get up.

Lorelai was in hysterics. "You sound so funny when you fall. 'Whoo-ah-ah!'" she gasped. "You sounded like a sick monkey!"

"Hey!" Rory reached down and grabbed more ammo. She playfully tossed the frozen crystals over her mother, an action that only served to heighten their laughter.

When they had calmed down somewhat, Rory stared up into the sky, watching as more snow arrived to peacefully blanket them. She took a breathless moment to cherish the sight. Over the years, her adoration for snow had grown to be almost as great as that of her mother. Lorelai was still giggling.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Rory asked as she extracted herself from their frosty sofa. She reached down to help pull her mother out as well.

"'Cause everything is so perfect."

"It's the snow, isn't it?" Rory smiled knowingly, shaking the clinging white stuff off her sleeve.

"No," Lorelai's face glowed as she threw her arms to the side and looked skyward. "It's just… life!"

***

The next day, Rory declined her mother's invitation, persuasive though it was, to hit the malls for after-Christmas sales. Instead, she found herself on a stool in Luke's Diner, finishing up a cheeseburger.

When she had swallowed the last bite, Jess came over and stood across the counter from her. He offered her more coffee.

"No thanks, Jess," she smiled shyly, putting on her coat. Glancing around, Rory reached into her deep, wool pocket and pulled out some money for her food as well as a small, rectangular present, carefully wrapped in silver and gold holiday paper. Jess put down the pot of coffee and, with a look of curiosity, accepted both from her.

"You got me a gift," he stated, dropping her money in the till and handing her change.

"I got you a gift."

Jess looked at her closely, then flipped the gift over and began to peel back the paper.

"You're not going to open it now, are you?" she worried. She didn't think that she wanted to be there when he saw what was inside.

Jess smirked at her. "I was."

"Right in front of me?"

"Why not?"

"Right here?" she asked, to which he raised an eyebrow.

Jess looked around at the scattered patrons in the diner. "No," he said finally. "Come on," and, without another word, he stepped around to the front of the counter and pulled Rory into the nearby storeroom. It was all she could do to keep from wrenching herself out of his grasp and bolting from the diner. Her heart was pounding.

Once they were alone in the storage room, Jess began to unwrap the gift again, observing Rory all the while with a questioning, seductive gaze. Rory's cheeks flushed hotly.

When he'd successfully removed the wrapping, he broke eye contact with Rory and looked down at the gift. Seeing what it was, he smiled brilliantly – not a smirk but a genuine, full smile. Rory couldn't help but grin along with him, her eyes dancing.

"This looks familiar," he said, the smile reaching his voice and making it lighter somehow.

"Yeah?" Rory asked.

"Yeah," he said softly, glancing up at her. "Did you like it?"

"Maybe," Rory replied noncommittally, blushing.

As Jess watched her, he didn't think she'd ever looked more beautiful. Needing some amount of distance between them before he did something she might not want, he looked back down at the book and flipped through the pages. As they flew past under his thumb, he noticed small handwriting in the margins.

He returned his eyes to hers, surprised. "You wrote in the margins?"

"Well, it isn't often one has the opportunity to read an intriguing Hemingway novel. I mean, they really are few and far between," she said. "I guess it inspired me. Plus, I wanted you to know what I was thinking as I read it, how much I loved it."

"You loved it?"

"Yeah," Rory said softly, warmly – fully aware of the double meaning she was infusing into the simple word.

"I always knew I'd get you to like Hemingway," he bragged. His statement brimmed with double entendre as well.

"Well, you were right. It just took me a little longer to figure it out."

Jess smiled and glanced back down at the book. It was then that he noticed the envelope tucked in between two pages towards the back. Removing it, he turned his eyes back to Rory and noticed that her blush had just grown several shades redder.

More curious than ever, he smoothly slid his finger under the envelope's flap and removed the contents. He glanced at the paper as he pulled it out and then once again up into her eyes. "It's a poem."

"Yes," she squeaked in a small voice.

Much to her embarrassment, he began to read the poem aloud in a soft, clear voice. The sound was beautiful to her ears, but it terrified her. There was no turning back now.

"All this time spent in denial and
My feelings I would hide.
But now I've begun to understand
The way I feel inside.

"I thought first love shan't be forsaken.
But I was wrong because
The love I felt, I had mistaken
For more than what it was.

"You've helped me understand this,
More than anyone.
I knew from the moment of our first kiss
Something wonderful had begun."

As he read the last line, Jess looked back up at Rory, his surprised pleasure reflecting itself in the smile slowly overtaking his face.

"You broke up with Dean?"

"Yes."

"How are you?"

"Nervous," she said honestly.

Slowly, Jess moved closer to Rory and let his hand rest gently on her cheek. He allowed himself a grin as he took in her impossibly blue, shimmering eyes. Then, when the moment was right, he let his gaze flicker from those eyes down to her lips and back again. He whispered simply…

"Don't be."

***

FINIS

Please review!

This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily ( http://www.fanfiction.ws/profile.php?userid=288788 ) and CircleSky.