Summary: Lorelai, on the morning after the night that was "Written in the Stars" - a slightly AU version of events.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Gilmore Girls belongs to the people it rightfully and legally belongs to – I'm just elaborating on the subject. And this fic? Heavily inspired by Shaye's "Happy Baby".
It was morning in Star's Hollow. A bright, fall morning with sunlight streaming out from behind a cloud and Lorelai Gilmore, in all her radiance, was out in it. At least she felt she must be glowing, the little beams of happiness escaping through her pores. (The two large cups of coffee she'd already gulped down may have aided this condition, she wasn't sure.) It didn't matter if she was wearing last night's clothes or that her hair had formed into frizzy ringlets: she was happy, dammit!
She crossed the street, still wrapped deliciously in a daze of happiness, and then came to an abrupt stop.
It was far too early to go home, and it was far too early to go to the inn, and it was far too early to do any of the things that people must do when they get up at such an ungodly hour. She could try to go home and sleep for a few more hours, but she would only end up feeling groggy and disoriented for the rest of the day. Sure, she was tired right now, but it was a good type of tired, a content tired. So no, she didn't want to go home, at least not yet. Besides, home was far and home was lonely and home was a cold and empty bed.
Nope, she couldn't go home which left her with the inn. Except, only the weird and overly cheery guests would be up and they tended to creep her out. Creepiness factor aside, Sookie's recent threats of bodily harm for venturing near the Dragonfly before noon also featured prominently in her mind. Maybe, just maybe, she'd been a little overzealous in her management technique of late, but it was only because she wanted the best. It had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the big gaping hole of emptiness that was her life for the past two months. Nuh-uh.
Desperate to distract herself from the gloomy thoughts, she scanned the Town Square, searching for anything that could provide a momentary distraction. Her eyes finally settled upon Doose's Market and she instantly perked up - Yes, she needed to get some… stuff. (It was always so difficult to be witty in the morning.)
Walking into the market with her to go cup still in hand, she grabbed a basket and began to wander the aisles, randomly picking up whatever appealed to her. (Ooh! A new flavor of Pop Tart!) Taylor had reorganized the shelves again, this time alphabetically and according to ethnic variety. (i.e. Italian and everything else.) Feeling a wave of glee and a momentary solidarity with Luke, she picked up a box of linguine and covertly set it right next to a can of Bartlett pears. (Hee! Oh man, she seriously needed help. This was lame. This was lamer than lame. Lamest-er. Ultra-lame…) Hmm, pears in syrup, it might not be a bad combination. (Gah! This was all Luke's fault! Shopping for fruit on a Saturday morning? Blasphemy!) The basket pressed uncomfortably into her arm and she decided that she'd gotten enough of whatever it was she needed.
Noticing the lineup at the cash register, she stopped in horror. There was a line? On a Saturday morning? Early on a Saturday Morning? Were people really this insanely in need of food that they rushed out of their beds on a hard-earned weekend just to come stand in this line? (Perhaps it was a conspiracy.)
Fighting off the oncoming boredom, Lorelai quickly scanned the magazine stand for some form of diversion. The Times (Snore!), Soap Opera Digest (Sonny and Carly were back together again? When had this happened? She felt so behind…), People (Yeah, sure, why not?), Martha Stewart Living (Not bloody likely)…. Here was something; half a dozen celebrity butt's proudly displayed for all to see (Had to be the Enquirer) For some reason, Sean Penn with ripped abs seemed a little blah today. (Luke with ripped abs on the other hand…)
She struggled to wipe the goofy smile from her face as she noticed Miss Patty saunter through the door. She couldn't let Miss Patty see her like this. With one look, she would know, and then quite possibly the whole world would tip on its axis. (Or something like that.) But the gods were smiling on her because Miss Patty simply waved with a twirl of her cigarette holder and headed for the back of the store. (Probably off to torment the poor produce boy.)
She decided to rename the new teller 'Yertle the Turtle' in honor of his record breaking scanning skills. Couldn't Taylor actually employ someone who was competent, especially for the 8 a.m. rush hour? (Crazy people.) She shot her best menacing glare at the people around her and giggled as the bag boy nervously dropped a carton of eggs. (She was good!) Ooh! Juiced-Up Pigs! Foamy, strawberry flavored candy shaped like a pig! (Could life get any better?) Tossing a couple of packages into the basket, she glanced down and finally noticed how full it was. What exactly was she thinking when she picked up:
Jumbo sized box of popcorn
Long English cucumber
Passion fruit
Hot sauce
Pretzels
Pop Tarts
1 can of pears
2 packages of Juiced-Up Pigs
People Magazine
Cosmo
It occurred to her that she might be losing her mind, either that or she was having a very Freudian moment. What else would explain the cucumber and the carrots and the…Cosmo? She didn't remember picking that up. She flipped through the glossy pages, slyly thinking that she and Luke could teach those readers a thing or two. A wicked smile crossed her face as she glanced up through the window towards the diner, picturing the events of the previous night.
The bag boy dropped a bag of groceries.
The pile of change shook in the turtle boy's hands.
Kirk slipped on a banana outside and brought down the whole display. An apple landed perfectly on his head and then rolled into the gutter. Lorelai's smile widened into a genuine grin. It was truly a good day to be alive. She was happy. She had the inn, she had Rory, and she had Luke. If this was it, if this was all she would ever have in life, she thought she could be happy.
Looking down at her empty coffee cup, she amended her last thought. So maybe things weren't perfect, but they could be. Still focused on the diner across the street, she absentmindedly handed Yertle a couple of bills and headed out the door. She knew what she wanted and where she wanted to be; she wasn't looking anymore.