Chapter 12: Bicycle, Bicycle, You Are My Bicycle

Author's Note: Like Tony Stark, I was held captive for almost a year and that is why I abandoned this lovely fic for other things, like building a suit out of iron that runs on coffee and love.

But have no fear fangirls/fanboys, I have risen from the ashes to finish out this crazy fan fiction that, at least I, found satisfying and totally ridiculous. I made a few choices, okay one choice, that is a bit cliché, but I liked adding that element to the fic and I don't think it made it overly dramatic. So I hope you like that part.

This chapter was especially hard to write, yet ended up giving me the most material. It was hard to wrap this all up in a nice little satisfying bow. I am so not made for endings.

Disclaimer: The following events that are about to take place are based on true events. Names have been altered to protect the innocent and dialogue has been changed for dramatization purposes.

Cause people have gotten married before. And I stole that idea.

Also, I hold no responsibility if you hated how I ended this. Just had to add that.

The title comes from a Be Your Own Pet song. They are wicked. Check them out!

Word of Caution: I thought about splitting this up into a two parter like every other TV show but figured I'd just go the Lost route and give you almost two chapters worth of material in one. So if you need to, take a break, walk around, go the bathroom. I won't be offended.

Rory yawned. "I'm bored. Want to have sex?"

Jess thought about this for a moment. "I don't know. I'm kind of into this show."

"You are watching To Catch a Predator."

"They always get caught." Jess said, in a shocked tone.

"Hence the name of the show."

Jess sighed. "Wait until commercial."

"Forget about it. You don't sound like you want to."

"You want to have sex because you are bored. Is that supposed to get me excited?"

"The mentioning of sex is supposed to thrill you. We are not married yet. Sex with me is supposed to be like a treasure hunt."

"I've already found the booty."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed."

"It's at commercial." Jess called out to her, RSVPing to her invitation.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Wow, this is sure romantic."

"You want me to light a candle?"

Rory shook her head. "No, just take off your pants. Let's make this quick. I have to look over that guest list. I'm thinking about cutting a few people."

Rory situated herself on Jess and thought about what she was going to say in her vows. She could go the basic route, promising to still love him in that stupid The Notebook way and hoping you can die at the same time because life would be unbearable without him. She could go the stupid route and throw in a bunch of inside jokes. Or she could….

Jess groaned. He grunted. God that was distracting her. She checked her watch. Only one more minute until To Catch a Predator came back.

"Jess, hurry up."

"This…was….your idea."

"You only have a minute left until commercials end."

It was time for the moment where Jess goes live for the thousandth time when he said the oddest thing.

"Watch out for that car!"

Rory was taken aback. Did she just hear that? She turned to look at the television, making sure her bouncing hadn't changed the channel. Nope; it hadn't. She turned back to look at Jess. He had a smirk on his face.

"Watch out for that car?" Rory asked.

"I had to get your attention someway."

Rory thought about this for a moment. "You're perfect."

Lane and Rory were situated on Lane's bed, legs crossed, like two school girls sharing the secret details of one of their first kisses. The door was closed, and Rory's face was red. Blood red.

"And at the point of orgasm he just burst out 'Watch out for that car!'"

Lane went from complete shock to an uncontrollable laughter in a matter of seconds. She bent over, she tumbled back. Her hair briefly fell into her mouth. Rory lost it at about the same time and both continued to giggle until Lane finally caught her breath.

"He just yelled that out? What if someone else heard?"

"Lane, we aren't into that public thing anymore."

"I meant his neighbors."

Rory shrugged. "They've heard worse."

Lane raised her eyebrows. "I'm intrigued."

"Let's just say, I can be very vocal and tend to yell out weird things."

"Things weirder than 'Watch out for that car'?"

"One time I recited all the presidents."

"Wow. I would have never made it past Monroe."

"It was an especially good night. I dare say no one has ever been as excited as I was about John Adams."

Both girls set there for a moment.

Lane smiled. "Watch out for that car."

"Yeah."

"If I was ever going to try sex again, I would try that with Zach."

"See what you're missing without sex?"

"Ah yes, the spontaneity of 4 minute sex while To Catch a Predator is on is something I wish my life had in it everyday."

"I felt so fat too, but I think you always feel fat on top."

Lane covered Rory's mouth.

"What?"

"My mother, somewhere, is listening. Women never go on top. It's not ladylike. We only assume the missionary position."

"Korean Seventh Day Adventists are so boring."

"The Joy of Sex hasn't made its way over to Korea yet."

Rory walked into Lorelai's kitchen.

Lorelai gasped at Rory's zombielike appearance. "Ah…I mean, oh my god. What happened to you?"

"I feel like I ate a bag of pennies and washed it down with orange sewage."

"When did you have time to get drunk? You were busy with hyperventilating and procrastinating and many other big words last night."

"This is not a hangover. This is something darker. My entire body is radiating with pain. Can you see the pain?"

"You do have a red glow."

Rory grabbed her stomach. "I think I am going to erupt."

"Like a volcano?"

"When someone is about to upchuck, who asks if it is like a volcano?"

"You're the one who used the word erupt to describe upchuckage."

Rory started jumping around. "My feet! They're cold!"

"It's not a literal thing Rory." Lorelai thought she now had a handle on the situation. "I see; this is pre wedding sickness. But you don't have to worry; everyone gets a little freaked out."

"I am not talking about running away. Feel my feet; they are frozen. My feet are ice." Rory dashed toward the oven. "How do you turn this thing on?"

"You've never used an oven?"

"You raised me! I can't bake cookies! I never took a cooking class. Yes, I am going to be a failure of a wife but that is your fault! Now turn on this damn oven! I have cold feet!"

"Rory, sweetie, you don't cure cold feet by toasting them. You just need to let it pass. Or call off the wedding. There is still time to run away with an Irishman."

"Huh?"

"It's a Julia Roberts thing. Rory! Get your feet out of the oven!"

"They're cold! I have cold feet!" Rory's head fell and her little body began to shake, finally letting out a deep sob that had been locked in her chest for a few hours. "I haven't slept in days. I can't write my vows. I hate my wedding song. And now I have cold feet."

Lorelai sighed the heaviest sigh in the world. "Rory, will you please take your feet out of the oven?"

Rory breathed out. "Altoids."

"Huh?"

"He had altoids. He always has altoids. They're his go to, after and before a cigarette, which I always found a little redundant. Why not just after? But whatever. And his couch. Have you seen his couch? It is the most glorious piece of furniture ever created by man. I love his couch."

"Am I supposed to follow these thoughts?"

"How am I supposed to convey these things in two minutes? What words can I use that aren't cliché? I hate all of those phrases like until the end of time, forever and always. Who uses words like always? There isn't an always. There is a right now. And right now Jess has a couch and altoids and…I'm pregnant."

"You're what?"

"It had to be the altoids. Every time he uses the altoids, something weird happens."

"How are you so calm about this? Do you know what you just said?"

"Altoids and then boom, I've got a parasite swimming around in there."

"You probably shouldn't call a baby a parasite."

"Oh my god, I can't think. When did the altoids incident happen?"

Lorelai grabbed a chair. "Rory, can we sit down because I have forgotten how to breathe."

"I ate cheese puffs the other day!"

"Okay?" Lorelai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The fake orange cheese gunk can't be good for the baby. It has to be on one of those no list. Pregnancy is just one big no."

"No crack."

"No margaritas."

"No fun." Lorelai paused. "Are you sure you're pregnant?"

Rory gave Lorelai the look. "I haven't been able to concentrate this entire week. When Jess and I were…building a sand castle, I was everywhere but building the sand castle."

"Were you really building a sand castle?"

"Of course we were." Rory said, avoiding direct eye contact with the one who birthed her. "And, I feel like I ate pennies and washed it down with orange flavored sewage. That's pregnancy."

"Why aren't you freaking out? This was not in the plan!"

Rory sat down at the table. "I don't think I am going to tell Jess until after the wedding."

After a few moments of silence Lorelai repeated the big discovery. "You're pregnant."

"I'm going to have a kid. A kid with eyes and fingernails and hair!"

"And hopefully only one of everything, except eyes, ears, arms and legs. Only one of those would give it weird nicknames like Cyclopes or hobbles or stubby." Lorelai smiled. "I'm going to be a grandma. Or just Lorelai."

"Granny Lorelai; I like the sound of that."

"Please don't." Lorelai bent down, and leaned in close to Rory's belly, touching it slightly. "It feels like a Lorelai."

"People are going to start talking to my belly, aren't they?"

"You become like an amusement park attraction. People will get in line just to touch your golden orb. People will rub it for good luck, or just to feel the all allusive kick."

Rory touched her stomach. "Yeah, I'm not feeling anything."

"Oh my god, you're going to get so fat. This will be fantastic. You'll have to wear an elastic waistband on your pants. Oh! And you won't be able to see your feet to put on your shoes. It's so funny; you bend over to tie your shoes and you just go rolling down the hill."

Rory rolled her eyes at her mother. "I'm going to my room to convey Jess' perfectness through the written word."

Lorelai groaned. "Just copy some random passage out of a Nicholas Sparks novel."

Rory gasped. "I'm not stealing a passage from a person on my Kill List."

"Nicholas Sparks got a spot on the Kill List?"

"Hells yeah. If I accidentally had a gun and it accidentally went off, I wouldn't feel bad if the bullet landed in his direction."

"Maybe you shouldn't talk so violently around the baby. It might come out with a love of guns."

"My baby is not a cowboy!"

"And hopefully it won't be an Indian either or people will feel the need to rape it and steal its land on Columbus Day and Thanksgiving."

"Ew mom, I'm going to my room."

"I'm going to make you something healthy! How do you feel about a strawberry pop tart?"

"That's your idea of nutrition?"

"It has fruit!"

"You little health nut."

Rory was lying upside down on her bed, phone in one ear, pen in hand. "Altoids."

"Altoids. That's what you should name this little project that is going on in your oven."

"I don't want people asking my kid if they are curiously strong."

Lane bit her lip. "We should give the lollipop kid a pre delivery nickname like Peppermint Patty."

"Not only does that make me hungry, the strong lesbian vibe might make people think I am breeding kids to turn them gay, therefore developing a big gay cult to take over Texas."

"Why Texas?"

"They have lots of cowboys."

Lane laughed. "Oh I get it!" She paused. "I can't believe you are sperminated."

"Neither can I. I was all Danny Ocean with my mom but my body is doing cartwheels and I my insides feel like they are on fire."

"Wouldn't that be awesome if Danny Ocean sperminated you?"

Rory ignored Lane's thought, too busy with her vows. "Tell me what you think of this line: I'm your biggest fan."

"It makes you sound like one of his groupies."

"I thought it was clever."

"Good thing you and your hormonal self have me here to tell you it is not."

"What if I throw hot coffee at you? Would you tell me it was a great idea to avoid coffee burns?"

"Nope; Koreans are known for their ducking capabilities."

"Well I like it," Rory stated stubbornly, "but I think I have a better line: You're my penguin."

"Not bad, Mother Goose."

Rory groaned. "Don't say that. I don't know what Jess is going to say. One week I don't want kids; now because of altoids and that glorious couch of his my garden is fertilized. I'm growing a cabbage patch kid inside of me!"

"Look on the plus side; you'll have the glow minus the fat neck in your dress."

"My dress! The wedding! It's…it's…Saturday! Two days away. I have to go and throw up."

"Morning sickness?"

"Who knows? I have like three sicknesses going on right now."

"Don't tell your mom; she'll call Dr. House."

Rory rubbed her temples. "Oy vey. I forgot I am getting veiled tonight by Jess' family."

"What does that even mean?"

"I'm sure my mother is taping it, so I'll give you her Michael Moore doc to watch as a bridesmaid gift."

"This is a kinky Jewish thing, isn't it?"

"They invented the bagel and smeared it. Those bastards only know kink."

"You think Nana Mariano will be able to feel your pregnancy?"

Rory panicked. "I hope not. I can't be known as a whore of a kallah."

Lorelai was finalizing the plans for Rory's wedding extravaganza, per Michel's constant bitching that everything had to be written in blood and gone over eight thousand times. Needless to say, Lorelai was no longer taking her job as co-wedding coordinator seriously.

"So I'm thinking you'll come in on a unicorn. What do you think?"

Rory shook her head. "I might as well rope some swans and ride those inland."

"How long do you think the rope will have to be?"

"I'll just use my back hair."

"If you don't have enough, you can borrow Luke's."

"I'd say ew, but the thought of Luke getting waxed is a whole new level of disgusting."

"Can you imagine Luke saying 'My three favorite activities are tanning, shopping and waxing!'? Oh my god, he'd be so totally awesome."

"He'd be fierce, fabulous and flawless."

"Like your hair. You've got sex kitten volume going on."

"It's the pregnancy."

"Did you get that thing confirmed?"

"I am craving dishwasher tablets and cilantro."

"I'm just saying, don't buy the crib before you go on Maury."

"Right now I need to focus on the wedding. After I walk down the aisle, I'll tell Jess."

"Right after?'

"At some point after he steps on the glass, he will be told."

"How do you think he is going to take it seeing as just a month ago you were a walking abortion campaign?"

"I don't know. I know Jess didn't want to get rid of the option of having a kid…"

"I'm glad he wanted you to keep your uterus."

"But I don't know if he wanted to take part in the cliché of having knocked up your girlfriend before you make her honorable in the eyes of Jesus, Bill O Reilly and Ryan Seacrest."

"Well it's a kid. People are supposed to be thrilled when they realize they've created offspring. Maybe Jess will be thrilled."

"I'm just hoping for a smirk."

Lorelai smiled. "You have your own little special silent code. That's sweet. Let's just hope that little science project in your stomach isn't monosyllabic." Lorelai paused when she saw Rory was crying. "Oh my god, why are you crying?"

"I have to throw up." Rory ran to the bathroom, crying and smiling.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Cause I'm happy about throwing up. This is so awesome. Can you come hold my hair? I can't mess up the sex kitten volume before the ceremony."

"Don't lay on the floor! I haven't mopped it…ever!"

"No mom, I just enjoy tootsie rolls, it has nothing to do with the Russians!" Lorelai shouted. She was a dream shouter.

Rory shook Lorelai a bit more. "Mom, wake up."

"No George, I can't have your baby. My ovaries can't be that powerful."

"Mom, I need to talk to you."

Lorelai turned over, staring at Rory.

"Mom, stop giving me The Emily."

"The sun isn't out."

"But I need to talk to you."

"Can't this wait? You don't literally have cold feet again, do you? Or is it in the metaphorical sense this time?"

"Something is fluttering in my stomach."

"Butterflies?"

"No, that would feel pretty."

"I don't think fluttering feels pretty. Go back to bed. You can't look like you are starring in 'Night of the Living Rory' tomorrow. Grandma will point and laugh, then pull me aside and tell me that looking like the Spears girl does not qualify as attractive in any circle. Then she'll make some inappropriate joke involving her support of a Nazi and push me in the lake. And leave. Her appearances always have to be more gossiped about than Anna Wintour's treatment of her 'chubby' assistants."

"Can we go on a walk?"

"Rory, the sun is not out. Go on a walk yourself."

"You are not filling your duties as maid of honor."

"I gave birth to you. Duty filled."

"Do you think Jess wrote his vows?"

Lorelai huffed and got out of bed. "Get your soon to be not so scrawny butt downstairs."

"I just need to practice my vows on you one more time."

"You got me out of bed to practice? Why did I birth such a freak? I let you mingle with other children. I didn't force you to read books. You chose to read from left to right. I let you watch some version of Cinderella without mocking it too horribly. Was it the large amounts of Chinese food I fed you? Are you now pseudo Asian?"

"I just want the day to be perfect."

"Practicing and obsessing will not make tomorrow perfect. Those moments you wrote about in your vows, they are what will make your day perfect and you aren't going to find them in your ten-layer cake or in those damn twinkle lights. If you'd just relax for like five seconds and stop being a Martha, you might make it the whole day without a Valium. You've got to relax sweetie because you no longer have the option of getting embarrassingly drunk off of cheap champagne on your wedding day."

"But they won't stop fluttering."

"I would offer you wine, but I hear it does weird things to fetuses. And I don't think I can smash a vase over your head…"

"I'm nervous."

"I'm sure Jess is freaking out right now."

"Why can't life have picture-in-picture? I need proof he is as bothered by marriage as I am."

"His uncertainty is comforting?"

"I always feel alone in my madness."

"As long as you don't start playing a piano at hysterical speeds, I don't think this madness will lead to death."

"Do you think I'll make a good wife?"

"The 1950s version? No. But you are Rory and he is Jess. Everyone knew it was meant to be."

"Really?"

"You are Jess' only friend and Jess keeps you sane. Separate, you don't make sense."

"That's a good line."

"Was it comforting?"

"The fluttering is less rapid."

"Only less rapid?"

"Maybe I don't need to go over the seating chart again."

"Now we're talking."

"And who cares if the swans do not enter as soon as 'All is Full of Love' starts? I can't control swans."

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"This is the fall of Emily 2.0."

"I was that bad?"

"You were mushroom people and midget orchestra bad. You ate Lane's music list."

"I did?"

"Last night. You didn't agree with her addition of Sinatra."

"I remember it now. I thought 'The Way You Look Tonight' was her mocking me. This whole time, I've been insane. I've been a wedding monster."

"Godzilla meets King Kong meets Barbara Streisand meets Clay Aiken in his Spamalot costume."

Rory shuddered at the thought of Clay Aiken anything. "How did you stand me this entire time?"

"My alcohol intake increased with the decrease in your sanity. I never knew there were so many things you could put in coffee."

"You've been drinking on the job?"

"Hello, my daughter was the wedding monster. Thank god this ugly period in your life is finally over."

Rory bit her lip knowing her mother was going to hate her next utterance. "I think I want to change my wedding song."

"Shush! We are not talking about the wedding…"

"But this is kind of a thing I need to talk about."

"Then call Lane. Me and you and the wedding are on a Ross and Rachel break until 3 tomorrow."

"You're going to attend someone else's wedding?"

Lorelai shrugged. "We're on a break. It's not cheating if we are on a break."

"But I didn't agree to this break."

"We're on a break."

"But…"

"Rory, it's 4am!"

Rory nodded. "We're on a break."

Rory tried to zip up the back of her dress on her own. Unfortunately, she didn't have the ability to twist that awkwardly. She was flexible enough for certain things, but not for zipping her wedding dress.

"Mom!" she called. "Come help me zip my dress."

Lorelai came rushing down the stairs, her dress half on, hair half done.

She stopped at the threshold of Rory's room and sucked in her breath.

"What? Do I look fat already? I swear, this parasite better be prettier than Shiloh."

"No. It's just…my baby is in her wedding dress. And she looks perfect."

"Really? You think I look perfect?"

"Perfect doesn't do how you look justice."

"The dress is incredible."

"That's why it got a name. But it's not just the dress. It's you in the dress."

Rory fanned her hands in front of her face. "Stop. This moment we're having has to stop because I can't cry. I've already cried eight times today for no reason."

"Hormones suck."

Lorelai turned Rory around toward the mirror and zipped her up.

"You're in your wedding dress."

"I know."

"So, do we need to have the talk about how to satisfy your husband? I wrote down what to say when you were like three, so I might have to change a few things, like nixing the use of sock puppets, but I think I have some good tips for you."

"Mom, I'm knocked up."

"This is true. Whores normally know how it all works."

"Any other good advice?'

"Don't do the whole brush your teeth before the other person wakes up newlywed thing. Don't pretend to be Donna Reed. And don't offer to cook in the nude. And sometimes, you'll have to do things you don't want to do, and it'll be painful and unpleasant but it is the duty of a married woman. You know what I'm talking about, right?'

"Laundry."

"Exactly. It should be illegal. It's so undignified."

Rory smiled. "I think this was a good talk. I learned a lot."

"Oh, and don't let him get you drunk. If he gets you drunk, you won't stop popping those things out. And last but not least, if we have learned anything from Sookie, perform the vasectomy yourself."

"I put a set of knives on my wedding wish list for a reason. Did you think I was going all Barefoot Contessa?"

Lorelai smiled. "I did good. There is nothing else I can teach you. Let's go make you an honorable woman!"

"Let's get you embarrassingly drunk!"

Emily was following Lorelai around on the bridge and she was two seconds from pushing her in.

"You're letting them get married on a piece of wood. For god sake's Lorelai, what is next? She gives birth in front of construction workers?"

"We've already lined up a Mexican brick layer to deliver the baby. He has great credentials. He watches ER all the time."

"Don't joke about things like that. Lorelai! Those swans are dirty!"

"I'll walkie Michel to clean the swans."

"And what is this music that is playing? It sounds like a bunch of Canadian school children broke into Mozart's grave, and decided to bring him back to life."

Lorelai was shocked. "Really mom, that is what Broken Social Scene sounds like to you?"

"What an awful name. Are they Canadian?"

"I never knew you had a distaste for Canadians."

"They have free health care. It's such a joke. I hope global warming puts it under water." Emily was repulsed by this music. "Did that man just say 'I'm Still Your Fag'?"

"Rory picked the music. Talk to your granddaughter."

"That is terribly inappropriate for a wedding. I'm glad I didn't invite any of the DAR ladies to this hot mess."

"Who did you hear say hot mess?"

"This is the definition of a hot mess."

"Britney Spears is the definition of a hot mess. This is a wedding."

Emily had a disturbing thought. "Oh god. Don't tell me they wrote their own vows. That's such a self important, oh look at us we are going to be sentimental and prove we know how to have our own thoughts, thing to do."

"They wrote their own vows."

"If I would have ran this wedding there would be Sinatra playing, no vow writing of any kind and it would not be held on a wooden bridge with dirty swans. The swans would certainly be shipped in from a reputable establishment. Where did you buy these swans?"

"They came free when we purchased the lake. Mom, chill out. Enjoy nature."

"Save your self important hippie crap for the other freaks who I am sure will appear out of the trees. I need a drink."

"Mom, be happy. Love is everywhere."

"Is there going to be booze?"

"There is always booze."

"Thank god. Maybe I can make it through this thing."

"Dum, dum, dum dum," Lane hummed to herself, a little buzzed off the champagne. "As soon as we get Michel's page, you will no longer be the Carrie Bradshaw of the Hollow."

Rory put her hand to her forehead, wiping away pre-wedding jitter sweat. "Look at my dress. It makes me look like an Afghani prostitute. Women who work in brothels wear dresses like this."

"I don't think Vera Wang is a big seller in Afghanistan. You'd need to cover your face and not go out in the sunlight in be an Afghani prostitute."

"And what is up with this sash of flowers? What was I thinking? It's as bad as putting flowers in my hair. Flowers don't naturally sit on your torso."

"Rory, breathe. You're getting married, not executed."

"I'm getting married." Rory stated, reassuring herself she was walking to the chuppah, not to the electric chair.

"To Jess, who is kind of awesome."

"He is kind of awesome."

Suddenly, instead of a page, the girls were interrupted by Michel's banging on the door. He didn't wait for them to open; he just walked right in.

Rory jumped on him. Not literally; just with words. "Michel, what if we weren't dressed?"

"Do you sit around exposed?"

"Yes."

"I shouldn't be surprised seeing as who birthed you. She let you watch Coyote Ugly at such a young age. It was bound to have some effect."

"You didn't answer my question. What would you have done?"

"We would have never spoken of this moment again. Horrible things would have happened to me emotionally. I would be in therapy. Rory! Don't get me off track. Where is your father?"

Rory shrugged. "Watching American Idol? He is a Cookie."

"Don't joke! Where is he? He has to be here in five minutes or I will be forced to walk you to the chuppah. And I don't even like you that much. The FOTB needs to arrive."

Lane smiled. "Aw, Michel is speaking in Wedding Planner jargon."

"Michel, my dad isn't walking me down the bridge. Mom is."

"Lorelai is? What, is this one of your feminist things? And if you are going to do something completely insane, you have to inform the wedding runner, which is me."

"It was on the wedding outline I made for you. It said MOTB walks B down the aisle."

"I thought is was a typo!"

"I don't make typos."

"This is stupid. Why would the MOTB and the MOH walk the B down the aisle? The donator of sperm is still alive. Why can't he walk you down the aisle?"

Rory exhaled heavily. "Michel, I've got a lot of things rushing around inside me right now…"

"Gross."

"So if you don't stop acting like this is your day, I am going to attack you. And it won't be ladylike. I will go for the jugular. This is my day!" Rory smoothed out her dress to regain her composure. "Now how long 'til the walk down the bridge?'

"Five minutes. You have to be out of this tent in five minutes." Before Michel walked away, he turned back to Rory and smiled. "You look almost pretty."

"Thanks, Michel." Rory noticed his eyes were a bit misty. "Oh Michel, are you crying?"

"I remember when you were little annoying Rory with your big words and small head. Now you are big annoying Rory with your big words and normal sized head. I can't believe you're getting married. Remember the time with the post-it notes? And when I wouldn't read your French paper? And when you stole all my candied almonds?"

"Yeah." Rory said, in her happy, sad tone.

"Jess is a lucky boy."

"Thanks, Michel."

Michel wiped his eyes. "Enough of this cry-fest. It is my job to get you married."

"I put my marriage in your hands."

Michel looked down at the paper in his hands. "Oh, Jess asked me to give you this."

Rory smiled. "I'm proud that you remembered his name."

"Lorelai made me practice."

"See you in four minutes and twenty-two seconds."

Michel smiled. Someone who took punctuality seriously. Awesome.

Rory opened up the one lined note from Jess. It made her smile that thousand-watt smile normally saved for when Rory and Jess "built a sandcastle."

See you under the chuppah.

Richard was a little disgusted with his wife at the moment. "I can't believe you wore black. You are her grandmother. You need to support this."

"Aren't I here?"

"You look like you are in mourning. No one has died, Emily."

"My heart has Richard, my heart."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic."

"I'm sorry if I don't look like a walking rainbow like our daughter, but it is not like Rory took the time to coordinate her dress with mine. Black goes with everything. Look at that woman. She is in black."

The woman in black came over and sat beside Emily.

"I see someone else here was sensible enough to not dress like they were a character in Barbie's dream house. You'd think people were actually excited to be here. I'm Nana Mariano, by the way. Need a drink?" Nana asked, pulling out her flask.

"You brought alcohol?"

"And sunglasses, so no one will notice my dilated pupils."

"Are you high?"

"It's my wedding remedy. I hate weddings. Too happy for my taste. But, I do anything for my little Jessie."

Emily nodded. "Same for my Rory."

Nana Mariano laughed. "Look at us. The two black grandwidows of the bride and groom."

"Oh, my husband is still alive."

"But not for long. With those legs, you've got plenty of time to find a new one."

Richard's bow tie felt tighter. "Plotting to get rid of me Emily?'

"Oh Richard, it was a joke. I love this woman. She's such a card. You're a card."

"I'm a card. Let's drink to divorce."

"To divorce! Without children!"

"No children ever!"

With these two bitches together, it was like Sex and the City for the menopausal set. Oh wait. They just made a movie for them.

Michel was holding on to Lorelai's arm so tightly a bruise not even cover up could fix was forming. Lorelai slapped his hand away. "Michel, I am not the bride. You don't have to worry about me running away."

"How is the MOH supposed to walk down the aisle then teleport back as the MOTB?"

"Paris will walk down the aisle..."

"I can't believe Rory invited that undersexed control freak. She actually questioned my wedding planner skills."

"Inconceivable!"

"I know." Michel paused. "Wait, you were mocking me weren't you?" Michel bent over at that moment, like he couldn't catch his breath.

"Michel, are you hyperventilating?"

"This…job…it…so much…. pressure. Hit me!"

"What?'

"Slap me in the face and I'll be better."

"I'm not slapping a French man. You'll kill me with a baguette."

"Slap me."

"As you wish, mon petit fromage."

And as Michel wished, Lorelai gave him a nice slap across the face.

Jess was fidgeting around under the chuppah. Rory was ten minutes late, as Luke had so graciously reminded him.

"He looks like he has Parkinson's. Is he Stars Hollow Michael J. Fox?'

"Emily, that is horribly insensitive."

"He has a very overactive bladder." Nana Mariano pointed out. "Or he might be on the ganja."

"The what?"

"You know, the Jamaican plant. Much more potent."

"Richard, what is she talking about?"

"I think she is referring to some type of hallucinogen."

"No, I'm just talking about a little pot. His mom probably rolled him a joint before the ceremony."

Emily covered her face. "Oh god. I've entered Holly Golightly'sworse nightmare."

"I thought this woman was a card?"

"Shut up Richard."

"Jess, I'm sure she is coming. Maybe the swans weren't ready." Luke reassured him.

"It would be those vicious beasts, wouldn't it? Swans are out to get me."

"I don't think an entire species is out to get you."

"Oh, I think so. I saw how they eyed me when I walked across the bridge. I bet in the middle of reading my vows they are going to come at me."

"And beak you again?"

Jess ignored Luke's hilarious comment and started pulling at his collar. "Is it hot out here? Did the temperature just rise a thousand degrees?"

"It's called nerves."

"I'm not nervous. I think I have a fever. Check my temperature."

"Jess, you're fine. Chill out. You are getting married."

"I'm getting married." He repeated slowly.

"To Rory, a lovely, well adjusted fruitcake."

"That makes no sense."

"Just repeat what I say."

"Just because you get to make a best man speech, it doesn't mean you now wear the pants in our relationship."

"Oh, I most certainly wear the pants. And there won't be a dry eye after I read my speech. I've been preparing for this moment since the day I pushed you in this very lake. I have many great anecdotes. I'm taking your guest through Jess and Rory: The Golden Years."

Jess rubbed his temples. "You've gone mad with power."

Luke smiled. "The pants are fitting quite nicely today."

"Shut up. You're freaking out the reverend and the rabbi."

"Nothing is scarier than the look your bubby is giving us." The rabbi was truly afraid of Nana Mariano.

"Or Rory's grandmother. I normally don't talk bad about Nana's as a rule, but those two are giving me a rash." Reverend Skinner added.

"Just don't make direct eye contact."

"Maybe we should make a peace offering."

"I'll give her a loaf of challah."

"I'll put in a good word for her on Taylor's God phone."

Jess became frustrated. "Are you two making this a bit? Seriously? It's my wedding day and you are doing a bit about bubbies and challah. What's next, a duck, a rabbi and a dumbass walked into a bar?"

Luke interjected. "What Jess means to say is, shalom."

The rabbi shook his head. "That's your best Jew, Luke?"

Reverend Skinner chuckled. "I do a better Jew than that and my only Jewish connection is that I occasionally enjoy a good cry by watching Annie Hall."

Before the reverend and the rabbi could go into another bit, the opening chords to "All is Full of Love" started. Cue the swans, Paris and Lane.

Luke started fooling with Jess' bow tie.

"What are you doing?" Jess asked.

"It's not center."

"Oh my god, stop touching me."

"Do you want to get married with a crooked bow tie?"

"I don't care."

Paris made her way down the bridge, not too excited about being upstaged by dirty swans. When she got to the end, she gave Jess a death glare.

"Fix your bow tie, dumbass. My best friend isn't marrying a boy who can't dress himself. Saddle up, James Dean wannabe reject."

Then Paris turned to the audience, uncomfortably situated on the bridge and smiled.

Lane made a much less dramatic entrance, keeping in time with the music, even in her mini drunk phase, and didn't trip once. She smiled at Jess when she made it to the end, and took her place beside Paris.

"Of course Gilmore gets married on wooden planks."

"Paris, we have to be quiet."

"And have you seen our dresses?"

"I am wearing one."

"We look like we are damsels in distress teleported from the Wild West. Gloves, seriously? Are we going to pull a heist later?"

"Paris, seriously, Rory is going to be here in like five seconds. Button it up."

"Fine, I'll throw away the key."

"Thank you."

And now it was time for the bride. The spotlight was on Rory.

Lorelai squeezed her hand and smiled. "Are you ready?"

Rory simply nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.

Michel pushed her along, fixing her train every few steps.

Rory tried not to think about everyone's eyes on her. She tried not to think about if she was staying in time with "Sea of Love." She tried not to think about her grandmother's scrunched up face and displeasure with the fact she didn't use the standard Wedding Waltz. But she couldn't stop herself from taking a glance. And what she saw almost knocked her over. There was Emily Gilmore, in entire black, with a smile on her face and puffy eyes.

She looked at her mother and noticed she adorned the same glassy eyes. She returned her mother's earlier gesture and squeezed her hand back, the unspoken gesture that said it all.

She was finally ready to jump into unknown waters where no list could prepare her for what would come.

It's scary how we agree to this thing and we aren't even sure of it until walking down wooden planks.

But enough of her Grey's Anatomy voice over that was supposed to make us all a bit wiser. All thoughts stopped when she saw Jess' face.

It was a genuine smile. Not a smirk. Not a curl in his lips that could be interpreted by some as a smile and by others as a birth defect. His teeth were visible, the corners of his eyes crinkled. Jess Mariano was smiling at her.

Most. Perfect. Moment. Ever.

Rory whispered to her mom in a voice inaudible to anyone except for dolphins and Lassie. "You can let go of my hand. It's time."

"I don't wanna let go."

"It's okay mom. It's like ripping off a band-aid. Do it quick and you won't even feel it."

"Oh I'll feel this."

"Mom."

Lorelai sighed. "Letting go."

Lorelai kissed Rory's check and took her place as MOH beside Lane and Paris.

Her baby was a baby no more.

She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. Fortunately, she knew that promise would be broken and she stashed some tissues in her cleavage. Thank god for low cut dresses.

The reverend and the rabbi cleared their throats.

"Before we get this whole ceremony going can we just stop and say, wow, we've never seen a more glowing bride."

"Absolutely stunning," the rabbi added, making an already blushing Rory turn Elmo red.

"Don't tell me these two are going to turn this into the View." Paris muttered.

"You'd be the Rosie to their Barbara Walters." Lorelai said.

"I'm not a big gay hot mess."

The reverend cleared his throat. "We've never shared the spotlight for a wedding before."

"We spent two days arguing how to start this ceremony."

"Lorelai suggested we joust for control." The crowd laughed at this little nugget of funny.

"Which would have been interesting seeing as we are on a lake with 'vicious swans' as we were told by Luke."

"But we thought we'd start the ceremony in somewhat normal fashion."

And so they started. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today, in the face of this company, including the lovely swans, on a bridge, to watch this man and this woman become something extraordinary together. Pull out your hankies. If we know these two, there won't be a dry eye on the bridge."

Rory and Jess were standing side-by-side, hands locked, fingers interlaced. They had not let go the entire ceremony. A romantic would say they were preparing to jump together.

"And now, we finally get to turn the ceremony over to our own little Hemingway and Austen. These two decided to write their own vows. You better impress us, guys." The rabbi breathed a sigh of relief that he could finally take a break.

Jess rolled his eyes. As if he wasn't nervous enough about divulging his feelings in front of others, here was a rabbi and reverend laying it on thick about how magical this had to be. Oh god.

Jess cleared his throat. Maybe he had lost his voice and would pass.

Rory had now turned her body and was looking him directly in the eye.

"I guess I'll go first." Rory whispered.

Jess just nodded. Words weren't his friend at the moment.

Rory blinked a few times and pulled on a sleeve that wasn't there.

"I'm a little nervous, guys. I didn't have my Wheaties this morning and since I reverted back to the technique of envisioning everyone in their underwear, I can't look directly at anyone."

Everyone gave her the kind "we will laugh even if your joke was pathetic" kind of laugh.

"Oh boy. Okay. Well, Jess. I remember when you got me hooked. It wasn't when you asked me to run away with you, or when we kissed at Sookie's wedding. It was that stupid line you said about the painful Ernest Hemingway. You said it with such sincerity at a time when everything you did had an ulterior motive and every word was laced with sarcasm. But you took me to this bridge, ate my awful food and charmed me with the best pick up line I've ever heard. 'Ernest only has lovely things to say about you.' I thought people only said things like that when they had a room full of writers churning out lines for them. It's not fair that you can come up with things like that, that you talk so good when you want to. How could I not get hooked? You bought my basket, you smirked, and you stole my heart."

Rory exhaled the breath she had been holding through that entire monologue and continued. "I can't predict the future, but the one thing I am sure about is us. You're not like anyone else I have ever met; you're so perfect and you don't even know it. You always know what to say, things that make no sense to anyone else, things that aren't appropriate for anyone's ears but mine, but they are perfect. I know I am overusing the word prefect, but I used a thesaurus and no other word fit. You're my Jess, my perfect dysfunctional best friend.

I want you. It's that simple. We are here today because we want each other. How awesome is that? I never knew if we'd get here, but I'm glad we did, because you're it for me.

You're my coffee cup. My Jess. My penguin. The one thing I need to get through everyday."

Rory gave Jess a glassy eyed smile that he returned with a kiss on the cheek.

The rabbi shook his head at this spectacle. "Oh, none of that before the end of the ceremony."

"God wouldn't approve." The reverend added.

"Oh come on, let him kiss her!" Babette roared.

Sniffles and snotty noses could be heard all around Rory and Jess.

"Those were some vows, Gilmore." Paris said, and you could tell she was a bit choked up.

Rory had an ephinany look on her face. "Oh I forget to say I love you. I should probably add that too."

Jess smirked. "I kind of inferred that."

"Well, just in case you didn't know, I love you."

"And Jess, what do you have to say for yourself." The reverend and rabbi asked in unison.

"Well, if Rory was nervous, I am probably legally dead up here.

Okay." Jess took a moment to breathe before her started. He wringed his hands and began to fidget, again.

"So you're Rory Gilmore: the fast talking town princess. Why you picked me, I'll never understand. But since the day you got rid of that restraining order, I've always been there, never willing to give up on us or let you go, because once you have a Gilmore Girl, that's it. Nothing else compares, nothing else is worth the hassle. I might as well have become a hermit if you hadn't picked me because there is no other girl out there for me. If I'm your Jess, you're my Rory.

When writing this, I thought about all the times something got in the way of our so called happy ending, how in ways we are the definition of tragic. Except today, I'm here with you. I got the girl. Do you know how amazing it feels to know I get to spend the rest of my life with Rory Gilmore? It is almost indescribable. I didn't want to get mushy here or write the chorus to some indie rock love song; I didn't ever think I'd be that romantic guy, but you Rory Gilmore, made me that guy.

You're my reason for being a better guy, my reason for not being a monosyllabic asshole, my reason for actually believing in this thing called love.

I want to be the guy who fixes you coffee every morning. I want to be your coffee making Prince Charming. I love you and I can't wait for tomorrow because like Lou Reed says, what comes is better than what came before. You are better than anything I've had before and the only good thing in that before.

This is the first day of our life. "

Rory turned to the reverend and rabbi, now in full tears. "Can I please kiss him?"

The rabbi was almost in tears. "If you don't, we are going to double team him"

"Dirty." Lorelai snickered.

"Rory, please kiss him. I don't want to see that." Luke begged.

"I don't want to experience that."

Rory leaned forward and captured Jess' lips in the sweetest kiss ever seen outside of The Princess Bride. Time stopped. If there were a camera, it would pan around them as if time had stopped in this kiss. For Rory and Jess, it stopped freaking time.

The reverend and the rabbi, after a few moments, pulled the two apart in fear that this would become Tommy Lee and Pam Anderson all over again.

"Well, we all know one thing you two are good at. You won't have any trouble in the boudoir." Of course the rabbi had to go there.

The wedding had just gone from sweet to nauseating.

The bride and groom had their 'you may kiss the bride' moment. They had been declared Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore, a joke Lorelai knew would emasculate Jess to the point where he might as well hand over both testicles and go ride a bike in France.

Jess had smashed the glass with his foot to get rid of the demons. Or to remind us that there is imperfection in the world. Lorelai had slept through Rory's explanation of all the Jewish customs.

Now it was time for the party.

Emily shook her head at the plate of food sitting before her. "I can't believe Rory wasted Sookie's talents on burgers and coffee."

"They're her favorite things, Emily."

"I know, Richard." Emily said in a condescending tone. "I enjoy Twinkies but do you see me serving them at DAR functions? There are appropriate times for Twinkies. A wedding is not one of those times."

"Maybe she picked burgers and coffee just because she knew you'd throw a fit."

Emily hit Richard with her napkin. "I'm not throwing a fit. I'm simply stating that this is a wedding, not a potluck."

"Eat your burger Emily."

Lorelai smiled at the combination of champagne and burgers. It was another one of Rory's many brilliant moves to drive Emily insane.

Rory really did love her mother.

The chitchat came to a halt and DJ Lane stopped the music when the clinking of a champagne glass caught everyone's attention.

It was Lorelai, naturally.

She stood to address the guests. Jess and Rory cringed. They knew what moment was upon them.

"As the maid of honor, it is my duty to give a little toast to the bride and groom.

Rory has always been addicted to old Hollywood love stories. From a young age she searched for the Bogart to her Bergman or the Redford to her Streisand, searching for that perfect man who would give her his letter jacket or bid farewell to her on a rain soaked tarmac with the parting line 'We'll always have Paris.' I guess you could call Rory a romantic at heart. To this day she still doesn't understand why Katie and Hubbell parted ways. Hubbell was Katie's best friend and even when things weren't good, he was there for her. And Ilsa wanted to stay with Rick, but he knew she couldn't; he knew he had to let her go.

Fortunately, there isn't a war or cancer or some other silly reason standing in the way of Rory and Jess getting their Hollywood, black and white, happy ending. The world has welcomed them and through the ups and downs of their relationship and life in general, because let's face it, sometimes life gets in the way, their love for each other has always remained. The great thing about these two is that they didn't settle for someone else. Somehow, these two stuck out the storm because they knew they'd have more than Paris; they have the story Ilsa and Rick only dreamed of having in front of them.

No good love story is perfect, but those imperfections, in my mind, are what make two people fated for each other. I guess you could say I am a sucker for fate, but when two kids dating at age 17 becomes two adults marrying at age 24, there is something more than luck at play. In Rory and Jess' case, I believe in fate.

Rory, you got your classic Hollywood love story, except your ending won't have tears on a tarmac or a great parting line. Yours won't be as dramatic or heart wrenching. You get the Holly Golightly moment where you find your cat and kiss Paul in the rain. You two overcame it all to and now get to have it all.

Lorelai raised her glass. "I know my speech might have been a little sentimental, but my other draft got covered in wine and I figured talking about smearing Rory's bagel and Jess' hair gel wasn't exactly wedding worthy. Cheers you two. I hope fifty years from now you'll still be the old boring couple who sits at home doing crossword puzzles and fights over watching Almost Famous for the thousandth time. That is what true love is all about."

Rory smiled at her mom and mouthed "Awesome speech." Lorelai tried to smile back without crying, proud that she had made it the entire speech without busting out into song or just crying "My baby is gone."

Luke stood up, prepared to make his speech. He was so frickin prepared.

"In case anyone doesn't know, I am Luke Danes, Jess' uncle.

Jess is a man who knows what he wants. He wanted Rory Gilmore, and he got her, not once, but twice. The first time, he fought the floppy haired giant and won, which was a bit shocking to everyone since he was five foot eight of nothing but hair gel and sarcasm. I swear many birds died getting stuck in that hair.

But anyways, I guess he got Rory with his charm. Or his stalking. Or maybe it's that shared love of reading they have. I always figured they'd suffer a tragic death because they'd be too busy with their faces stuck in a book that they'd walk into traffic."

"Or with their faces plastered on each other!" Lorelai bellowed.

"But let's not get into those morbid details. In the face of the proverbial door being slammed in his face over and over, Jess never gave up on Rory and finally, after years of me kicking his ass, he became a man worthy of her love. It was almost like overnight he grew up and became the bright, clean, ready for love version of Jess.

And thank god for second chances, or the burning of his leather jacket would have been unnecessary. Rory gave Jess his second chance and look where it got them: to the altar. They overcame their past to have a future. Jess finally fought all the monsters and fire-breathing dragons and got Rory out of her Ivy covered tower.

I never thought I'd have a reason to use multiple metaphors in my life, but I stand corrected."

Luke raised his glass, prepared to make the final toast. "To Rory and Jess, Stars Hollow true love story that doesn't involve a dance hall prostitute and a made up story. This is the kind of story that counts."

A flash. A click. This had been going on for the past two minutes as Rory and Jess circled around the dance floor to "To Be Alone With You." Rory was finally happy with her first dance song selection. Jess didn't care if they danced to "Rock Lobster"; he officially had the girl.

Jess rolled his eyes. "Do they seriously have to keep taking pictures?"

"It's what we paid them to do."

"But this is supposed to be our moment."

Rory pulled Jess closer to her, so they could speak at a volume only heard by the other. "So, we're officially husband and wife."

"It looks that way."

"So how does it feel being Mr. Gilmore?"

"I have this overwhelming desire to eat pure coffee grounds and talk about myself for the rest of the night."

Rory playfully hit Jess' arm. "Do you want your balls back?'

"You can keep my melons. I chose to marry you. I read the fine print. My balls and I already had a bittersweet farewell."

"I can't believe we are talking about your balls during our first dance."

"The foreplay had to start at some point. Why not while we are surrounded by your closest family and friends and Luke."

"Your game of footsie during the best man and maid of honor speeches was getting a little out of hand."

"You know I like to get a head start."

"But it's not like you haven't met Mary Tyler Moore before. Tonight is just like any other night when two big fat whores get married."

"When did you start paying me for my services?"

"Your services? Please. I should get paid double. I do all the work."

"Uh, the one with the penis does all the work. Proven fact. Do we need to have a little anatomy review tonight?"

"Nah, we can just go home and cuddle. There is no need for intercourse."

Jess laughed. "Did you just say intercourse?"

Rory sighed. "Come on Jess, sex on your wedding night is such a cliché. It's not like I'm Marie Antoinette and your are Louis and our family is going to be watching you pop my cherry hoping that your mighty sperm make a connection with my fertile eggs. Did you know that in some cultures you actually put down a towel and give the father the blood stain from popping his daughter's cherry?"

"Sadly, I wasn't present during your popping or I would have documented proof that I devirginized Gilmore."

"Don't be an ass."

"Are we seriously going to fight on our wedding day?

"Oh look, they're playing the Beach Boys. Good memories, right Jess?"

"Rory, does the phrase happiest day of your life ring a bell?"

Rory breathed. "Jess, I'm pregnant."

Jess laughed. " If you don't want to have sex tonight, that's cool. No need to go and say crazy things."

Rory got her serious face on. "I'm being serious Jess. Your sperm are quite mighty."

Jess blinked a few times. He let go of Rory's hand and just stood there, in silent shock.

The photographer rushed over, pushing Rory and Jess back together. "Rory, Jess, get closer. You'll want to remember this day forever."

Jess swatted the guy's hands away. "No more pictures."

"We're paid until five. Now get together and look pretty. This is the best day of your life."

Rory and Jess awkwardly danced to "God Only Knows."

"You can be mad. I understand. This wasn't a part of the plan."

"You can't make a pro/con list for this one."

"I did, when I was 17. Sex always wins."

"So we're pregnant."

"With a baby."

"I'm glad it's a baby." Jess finally looked her in the eye. "How long have you been in this condition?"

Rory laughed. "You mean sperminated?"

"That sounds like you're infected."

"I feel infected."

"So how long?"

"I think it was about a month or so ago on your couch."

"When I used the altoids."

"Yes!"

"Something weird always happens when I use the altoids."

"I know. This baby was created by altoids."

"And a few other fluids."

Rory paused. "So, what are your feelings?"

Jess thought for a moment. How did he feel? He never thought he was the kind of guy to get married. Now he was an almost daddy. A dad. He was going to have a kid. Scary as hell or what?"

"I'm in."

Rory beamed. "Really?"

"If you're in, I'm in."

"This is such a relief. I wasn't sure what your reaction would be. I played a thousand scenarios in my mind, many involving you asking for a paternity test, which let me tell you, made the wedding night super awkward. But this one, this response was just…"

Jess broke off her rambling with a searing kiss that would burn any camera lens that tried to capture the moment.

"Take the picture! Take the picture!" The photographer's assistant shouted.

Rory touched her lips "…perfect."

"That word is being thrown around quite a bit today." Jess wiggled his eyebrows. "So sex tonight?"

"It's so on."

"I hear pregnancy only makes you grow hornier."

"Kind of like absence."

"So if I was missing and you were pregnant?

"The sex we would have wouldn't be legal in the state of Connecticut."

"Good thing there is always Philadelphia."

"Oh the things we would do on the Liberty Bell."

"Ben Franklin would be so proud."

Lorelai walked up to Luke, who was standing alone, admiring Rory and Jess in a non-creepy fashion.

"So, you wanna dance, you know, for old times sake?" Lorelai asked.

"You're all about memories tonight, huh?"

"Like I said, I've gone sentimental."

"Your speech wasn't half bad. More serious than I expected."

"I had the help of Ryan Seacrest and lots of coffee. What about you? When did you become an eloquent orator?"

"I just choose to not share my orating skills with the world."

"Wise move, Danes."

"We are on a last name basis, tonight?"

"It fits with the old Hollywood theme I'm jiving with. So, want to dance before the happy couple rides off in their carriage?"

Luke just smiled and followed Lorelai out to the dance floor.

"To this day, your dance skills still impress me, Danes."

"Your left feet seem to be getting a bit better, Gilmore."

"Hey, I never had left feet. You just couldn't keep up with me."

"It's hard to keep up when you stand on my feet the entire night."

"That was once. And you kicked my shin."

"Because you wanted me to flip you."

Lorelai smiled.

"No flipping tonight, Gilmore. This isn't Bandstand."

Luke and Lorelai danced a bit longer in silence until Luke brought up the untouchable subject.

"So, how are you taking the day?"

"My plan was to get so drunk I didn't realize what was happening but Emily has been monitoring my alcohol intake. I want to send her to monitor Lohan. She'd have that girl sober and wearing pearls within a week."

"So your mother scared you into sobriety?"

"That and I figured I shouldn't deliver my MOH speech in slurring tongue."

"Because most people don't speak drunk."

"Only the Osbournes are fluent."

"Well, I think we did good, with Rory and Jess."

"Jess is no longer leaving his best girl home on a Saturday night."

"Rory isn't pregnant."

Lorelai gave the wide-eyed, don't ask me another question about that topic look to Luke. "Well, after tonight, I am no longer keeper of her uterus."

"I still remind Jess that her chastity belt should stay locked at all times."

"And you think he listens?"

"It gives me comfort believing Rory does not sit on top of Jess and there are no socks hanging on the door."

Lorelai sighed. "I just hope they're happy."

"Me too. Jess deserves it." Luke paused. "They both do. They're great kids."

Lorelai looked a bit solemn. "They really do look happy. I've never seen Jess smile before."

"I didn't know his face was able to do that."

"I thought it was frozen in a dumb looking stupor."

Luke stopped dancing with Lorelai and hugged her.

Lorelai looked a bit stunned. "What was that for?"

Luke shrugged. "Just wanted to."

"You, Luke Danes, just wanted to hug me? You hate any showing of emotion. And you definitely don't do hugs."

"I guess today is a day for change."

"One door closes, Luke starts hugging."

"Something like that."

Richard tapped Jess on the shoulder. "Would you mind if I danced with my granddaughter for a moment?"

"Only if I can dance with Emily."

"I don't think you want to do that."

"I second that Jess. You don't want to do that." Rory added.

"You'd rather let vultures slowly peck out your eyes than do that."

"You'd rather be stuck in a phone booth surrounded by psycho birds than do that."

"I think I can handle the Dragon Lady."

Richard raised his eyebrow. "The what?"

Jess looked sheepish. "I mean, I think I can handle Mrs. Gilmore."

"Well, if you feel so inclined, go ask her. She is sitting over there staring at her hamburger. I think she is trying to make it become fish with her mind."

When Jess left to go ask Emily for a dance, Rory poked her grandfather. "How could you let him do that? It's suicidal."

"I know. It's pure madness. But I'd like to see where this goes."

"I'll tell you where it goes; me being a widow on day two of the marriage."

"There are plenty of suitable men in Hartford with nice trust funds, Rory. We can find someone who dabs virtually in golf to take his place."

Rory shook her head. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Is it a crime to want to dance with the bride?"

"No."

"Your wedding was lovely."

"Thank you. What did grandma say?"

"Oh you know, she was conflicted."

"That's one way to put it."

"But did you notice that she was crying?"

"I did! And they weren't tears of sorrow!"

"On the inside, I think she is thrilled you are married. But, you didn't involve her in the process. And you sprung Jess on her. You know your grandmother. She needed to know the boy for at least two years before she even hinted for you to think about marriage. You thinking about marriage without consulting her to someone she knew nothing about and to someone whose mother she did not play bridge with was like Lorelai all over again. You know how Lorelai makes her feel. She thought you were different, and this whole marriage just proves you aren't." Richard stopped for a moment and smiled. "Which is not a bad thing. You're a beautiful, independent, successful woman. You're like a Hepburn, with a huge dash of your mother. And we love that about you. But this all just scared your grandmother so she took it out on the one person she didn't know."

Rory finished the thought for him. "Jess."

"Exactly."

"Grandma is a complicated woman."

"Who serves pot roast on Sundays. It's very conflicting for a man. But I love her."

"Me too. And mom."

"Maybe you should tell her that sometime."

On the other side of the equation, Jess had shockingly goaded Emily into dancing with him.

"No, you're doing it all wrong. It's a waltz, not the mambo."

"Sorry, Mrs. Gilmore."

She huffed. "Didn't you have to learn how to dance for a ball or function or as an escort for a debutante?"

Jess shook his head.

"What about for pleasure?"

"I'm white."

"Is Fred Astaire black? Did I miss something all these years?"

"Well, I'm not planning on grabbing my umbrella and singing in the rain tomorrow."

"But you must know how to dance. A woman needs a man who can't dance like a fish needs a bicycle."

"I don't think that is how the saying goes."

"It is how it should. Dancing is key to any good relationship. I will not have my granddaughter married to a man who doesn't know the difference between the cha-cha slide and the waltz. Even the diner man knows how to waltz."

"Rory isn't exactly Doris Day on the dance floor."

"It doesn't matter. The man leads. The man sets the tone. I'll let you in on a little secret. I would not agree to marry Richard until I knew whether or not he could spin me without throwing me into the wall."

"Dancing is for the Brady's and Madonna."

"Prince Charming knows how to dance."

"I'm not Prince Charming."

"You certainly are. You are married to my granddaughter. You are her Prince Charming and if we have to, we will stay on this dance floor until you learn how to properly waltz."

Jess was about to say something when Emily cut him off. "And don't make a snide remark about how this is your wedding night or I will slap your once was monosyllabic mouth."

Jess shook his head at this madness.

But he knew he had to get in good with Emily some way.

"I'm kind of starting to be somewhat okay with you." Emily muttered, loud enough for Jess to hear, but quiet enough that he knew she wanted him to pretend he hadn't.

That Emily Gilmore sure was a complicated woman.

Rory was staring at the ginormous diamond ring that was sitting on her left ring finger. She had forgotten to squee! in front of everyone when Jess put this sucker on her finger. It was Paris Hilton worthy. It was J. Lo worthy. It was like Ben Affleck, pre being awesome and P. Diddy went together and bought her a ring.

Oh yeah, Jess was getting some.

"It's important for a man to have good taste in diamonds."

Rory was knocked out of her daze by her grandmother, who had snuck up behind her. "It is an awesome rock, isn't it?"

Emily grabbed her hand, examining it even further. "It's an exquisite cut. I'm shocked he knows how to buy jewelry." Emily paused for a moment. "Not that he is unable of buying jewelry. Jess just doesn't seem like the jewelry buying type. I would peg him for the kind who would think diamonds are ridiculous."

"I made sure I reminded him everyday that diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"I guess Jess isn't as slow as I thought he was."

"He isn't half bad, if you give him a chance."

"His dancing skills are almost sufficient."

"I saw you two were waltzing."

"Trying to waltz. Jess isn't exactly light on his feet."

"He fashions himself as Hemingway."

Emily was puzzled. "Meaning?"

"He'd rather punch a guy in a bar than dance in the streets."

"Well, I don't think he'll be dancing in the streets anytime soon but if you ever brought him to one of my functions, he would at least be respectable."

Rory smiled. "Thanks."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Every man needs to know how to dance. It is more important than knowing how to tie a tie or buying diamonds."

"You can just wear a clip on and go to Tiffany's."

"But no one can dance for you."

"Even Britney Spears dances for herself."

"If Britney can do it, anyone can." Emily paused. "I'm happy for you, dear."

Rory beamed. "Thanks. I'm happy for me too."

"You look positively radiant. I've come to terms with the fact that Jess is good for you. Sorry it took me so long."

"Mom is still mourning the loss of Prince William as my future husband. You have come to terms with the Jess factor much quicker."

"He reminds me of the diner man. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet."

Rory laughed. "Don't tell Luke or Jess that. They deny sharing DNA, much less their personality disorder." Rory stopped and changed her voice to a whisper. "But I agree, they are almost like father and son."

Emily laughed.

"And grandma?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to shut you out of this part of my life. I just… I was afraid you wouldn't approve and then I procrastinated telling you and it just became one big stupid mess of miscommunication. Mom and I don't try to make you feel like the elephant man."

"I don't try to make you think I disapprove. It is just my nature."

"I know."

"You're a lot more like me than you'll ever admit, you know? Stubborn, perfect, a small annoyance to your mother."

"Well, it won't be so bad growing to be like you."

"I am the most popular woman in my DAR group."

"And you have the best suits, although this one is a little…"

"Black."

"That was the word I was looking for. It's a little black."

"At least I didn't wear white."

Lorelai popped out of nowhere with the always reliable martini in her hand.

"What did I miss?"

Rory stuck her left hand out. "This."

"That is one giant rock."

"Rory's dainty hands might not be able to support it." Emily loved to show off her wit when she could.

"Oh, I'll do hand exercises if needed. I will wear this baby everywhere I go. Gas station bathrooms, you'll see me, flaunting the bling."

Emily shivered in disgust. "Never stop at one of those seedy gas stations to go to the restroom. There are crabs just sitting on the toilet, waiting for you."

Lorelai was still astonished by the hardware on her daughter's hand. "Jess must have sold all his blood to afford this thing."

"Maybe someone died and he came into some money." Emily reasoned.

"Maybe he sold his soul."

"Or maybe, Jess is a gigolo!" Lorelai giggled.

"And this is my cue to leave you girls." Emily kissed Rory's cheek and turned to leave but quickly turned back. "I'm really looking forward to being a great-grandmother."

And with that, Emily Gilmore was gone.

Lorelai turned back. "You told her?"

"Stop the bug eyes. No. I'm guessing the grandchildren comment is kind of like the 'would you like help choosing a china pattern comment' from grandma. It equals approval."

"Did you drop the iceberg to Jess?"

"Yes, and his Titanic gracefully avoided the berg."

"He must be an expert steerer."

"Or I am a good sea captain."

"This wasn't planned."

"True, but maybe I managed expectations."

"And how did you do that? Tell him the cabbage patch kid was returnable at any time if he felt like backing out? I know I raised you like a pro, but you didn't come out of the uterus wearing a leather jacket with a love for hair gel."

"I just came out addicted to coffee."

"So what if your bottles were forty percent coffee sixty percent milk? You're as normal as I wanted you to be."

"Mothers have way too much power."

"But men have the ultimate power. They control the sperm."

"The diamond almost makes up for the spermination."

Lorelai waved her hands around in the air. "See, this is the problem. Women can be bought off with diamonds! Forget about the excruciating pain of nine pounds barreling down the birthing canal. Your man went to Tiffany's!"

"What can I say, I am easily bought off."

"You should have been a part of Watergate."

Rory giggled. "I'm married! I'm married! I'M MARRIED!"

Lorelai laughed. "You're an idiot. Marriage has made you stupid."

"Jess will have to teach me a few things tonight."

"Ew, don't do that! Sometimes I think you forget I am your mother."

"It's kind of hard to forget who gave you life." Rory smiled at her mother, a beautiful, simple, genuine smile.

Lorelai took both hands and put them on Rory's cheeks, just making Rory smile further. It was an adorable moment between mother and daughter.

"Mother."

"Offspring."

"You're awesome."

"And you're not so bad yourself."

"Why thank you. You did a not so shabby job, if I do say so myself."

"Cheerio, dear."

"Completely wrong use."

"What if I started drinking my tea with my pinky pointed out and wore a crown all the time, while saying 'Jolly ole London'?"

Rory turned up her nose. "I don't think the British like the pseudo British. They don't even like their own kind. They want to have Amy Winehouse deported."

"Well she does wear a beehive."

"And she is not a B-52's girl."

"And she eats young children."

Lane interrupted their little rant on Amy Winehouse to call the happy couple back to the dance floor.

"For the final dance of the night, if you know how to shake what your momma gave you, join Rory and Jess on the pseudo dance floor."

Jess groaned. "First, I have to wear a bow tie, which by the way, not easy to tie."

"I know. I tied it for you."

Jess ignored Luke's little dig. "Then there were the painful vows that made me feel...naked. I don't enjoy feeling naked. Then there is the flashing of cameras in my face that made my wedding like a scene from Hostel. And now, there is dancing. Again."

Jess noticed Rory was cheerfully skipping toward him. Yes, it was cheerful skipping.

She put her hand out for him to take. He obliged.

Jess situated his one hand on her hip and took her hand with his other. "This better be the last time we have to do this for at least ten years."

"When you get married, you have to do things you don't want to do."

"Like share your books with someone who spills coffee on every page."

"Or with someone who writes every single thought in the margins thinking they sound profound."

"I thought you liked my margin thoughts?"

"I lied."

"Well, I hate watching you eat."

"You said I was cute."

"I lied. You're like a big food vacuum."

Rory shook her head. "Marriage is full of lies."

"And sacrifice. I have to love you even if you get grossly obese and try out for The Real World. That's going to be hard."

"I have to love you how you are now. That's hard."

Rory and Jess both smiled at their sparring of words. They really were cut off for this marriage thing.

Jess segued into the next topic in a somewhat nonchalant tone. "So, did you get the key I sent you?"

Rory was a little shocked. "You sent me the mysterious key in the mysterious box?"

Jess nodded.

"Why would you send me a key? This isn't going to be something stupid like 'Rory, it's the key to my heart' is it?"

"I just thought you might want a key to my apartment, you know, while we are looking for a house."

"We're looking for a house?"

"My apartment is kind of a craphole, if you haven't noticed..."

"But it has charisma."

Jess ignored Rory's comment and continued. "And I thought, you know, we need our own place."

"Where we can have monogrammed towels in the bathroom?"

"That, and a yard. I think our little astronaut in there is going to want a yard, so it can have a sandbox or whatever kids like to play in."

Rory smiled. "You have been thinking about this."

"It's not like I have a house picked out or anything."

"You want a white picket fence and apple pie and golden retrievers and matching jogging suits and a sandbox."

"I wasn't saying we go live in suburbia. I just think a place with more than one bedroom and hot water might make sense, you know, since we are now supposed to be upstanding married people."

"A house would be nice."

"But no white picket fence."

"Okay."

"And no 'can I borrow a cup of sugar' neighborhoods. I can't handle neighbors like Samantha and Darrin had."

"I don't think we can build our kid a playground in the hood, unless we put bullet proof glass around it."

"I didn't say I wanted to live in the hood. Just not in some stereotypical neighborhood full of soccer moms and undersexed men."

Rory giggled. "You want it all."

"With you. That's the important part. Without you, I'd still be holed up in Craphole living off of ramen noodles."

"In non-craphole we will banish ramen noodles."

"You love ramen noodles."

"I'll eat them in secret. I'll hide in the closet."

"Eating your ramen noodles in the closet. Now that's love."

One week later.

Rory and Jess had been shacked up in Craphole Apartment for a week living off of ramen noodles, stale pizza and ice cream.

To pretend they were in Paris, Rory played French music and ran out to McDonald's to buy a weeks supply of French fries. At night, they would break chocolate bars up in their coffee (Jess and Rory compromised on only one cup per day) and watch some raunchy French film that made subtitles unnecessary because of the insane amount of sex these people were having. It was so gross and hairy it became hysterical.

Rory had started the week only speaking French, but her fake Parisian accent was worse than her pseudo British accent and she only knew how to ask for more wine and the directions to Johnny Depp's house.

They would take a break from the absurdness of this 'honeymoon' to eat toaster strudel and watch Deal or No Deal.

Rory had tried to get Jess to wear a beret, but when she wasn't looking, he burned the beret. It just didn't look good on him.

"I think we need to light one more candle."

Jess reached for the lighter. "No. No more candles. You can't recreate the ambience of the Eiffel Tower with candles. You almost lit me on fire last night."

"I didn't know your sheets were so flammable."

"And now my room smells like a mixture of cotton, coffee and clorox."

"Yeah, I kind of spilt that entire bottle of wine this morning."

"You spilt an entire bottle of wine?"

"It was like three dollar wine from the gas station. If you want, we can let some grape juice sit in a cup for a few days. It'll taste the same."

Jess shook his head. "I hate pretend honeymoons."

Rory gave Jess the infamous puppy dog eyes. "Can I light one more candle, please?"

"But I want to sleep. You kind of killed me this week."

"You're so lame. If you are tired after a week of just sex, how are you going to handle marriage?"

"Believe me, I like sex. I'm a firm believer in doing it, a lot. But you've been insane. You hump my leg at like two in the afternoon when the Price is Right is on."

"It's our honeymoon. We're supposed to be like bunny rabbits."

"This bunny rabbit needs a break."

"I wasn't going to make you do anything tonight anyways."

"Good; that'd be awkward."

Rory and Jess laid down on their bed, surrounded by candles.

"What if I have to go the bathroom?" Jess mused.

"Don't go to the bathroom."

"I can't not go to the bathroom."

"You're such a baby. This is supposed to be romantic."

"I feel like I'm on Fear Factor."

"Being stuck in bed with me is like being locked in a treasure chest full of spiders and hypodermic needles?"

"When surrounded by candles, yes."

Rory sighed. "Can we just lay like this for a few minutes? I like the ambience."

"Fine. But if I fall asleep, don't think that is an invitation to light more candles." Jess took the lighter from Rory and put it under him.

Rory pouted. "Not fair. I'll just have to frisk you if I want the lighter."

Jess rolled his eyes. "Night Rory."

Rory leaned over and kissed his nose. He turned to look at her for a moment.

"This is a little weird." Jess commented.

"Yeah, who knew silently facing each other would be so uncomfortable."

"I'm going to turn the other way."

"Bonne nuit, Jess."

Jess and Rory were laying in silence for a few moments.

"Rory, Jess, I think you are out of coffee!" Lorelai bellowed from the kitchen.

"How long is your mom staying again?"

"It's just a hard adjustment for her."

"It was hard for me to adjust to her in our bed the other night."

"She'll be gone in a few days, I promise."

"She can't live with us. She knows that, right?"

"Of course she does." Rory laughed manically. "Okay, maybe she doesn't know that she can't come over and spend the night whenever she wants but I'm married now so it's just an adjustment period."

"She is going to want to have sleepovers all the time."

"Yeah." Rory said much too slowly for Jess' liking.

Lorelai poked her head in the door.

"Rory do you want to..." She trailed off when she noticed the candles all around the room. "Oh, am I interrupting the Eiffel Tower sex?"

Jess groaned, putting a pillow over his face.

"See Jess, mom gets it."

"Then marry your mother."

"Unfortunately that is not legal, Jess." Lorelai smarted.

"No mom, we're taking a night off. What do you want?"

"I thought maybe we could watch that really dirty French movie again. I love when he compares her bosom to ten year old cheese."

Rory looked between her mom and Jess. Jess just nodded.

"Yay!" Lorelai squealed. "Night, Jess."

"Night, Lorelai."

Rory and Lorelai left the room to go have a sleep over. In his apartment. His new wife was having a sleep over with her mom in his apartment. Yeah, not weird at all.

It wasn't weird when Lorelai kicked him out of their bed last night so they could have 'girl talk.'

The couch was so comfortable.

"Nope, not weird at all." Jess muttered to himself.

But what can a guy do? They're the Gilmore Girls. No penis will get in the way of their fun.

End Author's Note: So that is it. It's over. Everyone, come together for a group hug. My heart is gently weeping right now.

Okay. I am all better. I am excited to have completed The Wedding Monster. I'm not here for a love fest but there is a lack of funny on this site when it comes to the fiction, so I hope I kept my word and my internal promise and kept bringing the funny. It's hard to write vows, MOH and Best Man speeches without being somewhat serious. I found those parts of the chapter and the wedding in general very challenging because I wanted to take it somewhat seriously and make it, I don't know, pretty I guess is the word I am looking for. I wanted the wedding to be pretty and not just plain retarded.

And vows. Oh my god. So awful to write. Such a dumb idea to have my characters be creative. I will bash my head in the wall for that decision after I get out of the fetal position.

And don't worry; Rory didn't drink the wine that was spilt. She just likes to get Jess drunk. It makes things easier.

Reviewers: I know I've said this tons, but I love you guys like twenty dollar whores. Oh yeah, I'd pay twenty bucks for all of you! You are the most awesome readers ever for following this fic. I feel like I should insert some lame Journey song to end our love with, but alas, I do not have that technology.

I'm quite excited about my ideas for the next story I am going to pen. I have two ideas rolling around in my head right now, both made of awesome in my mind, so it is hard to choose. But I hope you'll follow me, even if the fic isn't exactly all funny. Of course I'll never go to StupidVille, but one of my ideas is going to be deliciously catty, if I go through with it, and scandalous. But oh so very funny, at least I hope.

Again, thanks! This experience was made of awesome.