Eggs, goats, and possibility

What if Luke wasn't the only one seeing faces? A little filler for "Luke Can See Her Face"

L/L Minimal actual JavaJunkie-ness, but it's definitely the theme

Basically, this is just a little something that had been running through my mind since last season when I picked up on a couple things in the dialogue of "Luke Can See Her Face." I've written fan fiction for other shows before, but pretty much stopped since it took up way too much time. But after seeing this episode again, I couldn't help myself. It's just a couple quick in-betweens for the scenes in the actual episode. Not that I think that any of this would have actually 'happened' in TV land while we were stuck watching the commercials or anything, or that any of the writers intended for anyone to take their dialogue this way. But that said, nothing about the episode has to be different for this to work, so you never know… I just thought some of the characters' comments could be taken different ways or played up more. So…

Also, it's been a while since I've written anything at all, and I've never written Gilmore Girls characters before, so I apologize if the writing/characterization/dialogue/etc. is sub-standard.

On that note, please let me know what you think of it. Good or bad, feedback is always helpful :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Gilmore Girls, except for the Season 1 and 2 dvd sets, and this crazy little tangent to one episode. Everything else is the WB's and the Palladinos'.

Rory froze for a moment and dropped the clothes she'd been yanking from the closet. Her mother's words from a minute ago were only now registering in her mind.

My eggs are still viable!

Eggs? What the hell? What did that matter, Rory pondered, unless Lorelai was actually concerned with having more children? Was she?

Rory lowered herself to her bed in a stupor, letting out an audible "Huh…" as she re-played her mother's words in her head.

To be honest, Rory hadn't given much thought to the possibility of siblings since her elementary school days when she would ask Santa Claus to bring her a baby sister… Sure it had crossed her mind for a split second when Gigi was born, but her mother just seemed so… so set in her life.

Even when she had been with Mr. Medina, a relationship that logically could have led to pregnancies and siblings and the big happy family picture, she still never saw her mother as… well, as the mother type. Lane had brought that topic up with her long ago – Lorelai wasn't the mom type. Of course, Rory, ever practical, had merely pointed out that Lorelai was her mom. But she's not a mom mom, Lane had insisted.

Now that she was older, Rory could certainly see what Lane had meant. Her mother was only thirty-six, an age when most women were in full child-bearing and soccer mom mode. Look at Sookie, she'd just had Davey, and more were probably on the way for her and Jackson eventually. But that was Sookie… And a million other thirty-somethings with mini-vans.

Lorelai lived for low-rise skin-tight jeans and stilettos. Not finger paints and kindergarten.

Or so Rory had assumed anyway… She knew her mom loved her to death, and had always told her she'd never change a thing about how things had happened, but Rory knew that her mother was her mother simply because she'd gotten pregnant. Not because she was the type of woman who'd dreamed of having her own kids, or anything like that. And that wasn't just because Lorelai had only been a teenager. Up until a few moments ago when Rory had heard about her mom's still-viable eggs, she always had Lorelai pegged for the type that, even if she'd gotten pregnant at thirty instead of sixteen, that she'd have the kid simply because she was pregnant, not because she specifically wanted to be a mother. It wasn't that Rory thought her mother resented her or any other hypothetical kid she could have had – she knew that wasn't the case - but once she'd caught on to Lane's observations, Rory had figured that her unique relationship with her mom was not just a result of her being born so early in Lorelai's life, but also that Lorelai simply didn't want to be a mom. So being the cool, friend-type parent that she was, was probably just her way of avoiding typical motherhood.

Not that Rory admitted to such things often, but she was starting to wonder if she was completely wrong. Could the Jimmy Choo obsession and everything else just be the end-products of Lorelai being a victim of circumstance?

Hearing her complain about the cats was one thing, and failed relationships and all that, but really, what did breaking up with Digger have to do with eggs being viable, unless she really was thinking about more kids?

Rory smacked herself inwardly, remembering her own words… Better than a bun in the oven.

She'd meant nothing by it, and obviously in her own circle at Yale, a bun in the oven was definitely unwanted. And she'd assumed the same went for her mother… But what if it didn't?

Lorelai hadn't responded to the remark on the phone. Actually, she'd pretty much ignored it and just jumped right back to the cats…

Had she really struck a nerve with her mom? Rory's mind was reeling, having clicked into that Gilmore overdrive she owed to her mother, with thoughts flying around faster than she could process them.

Pawing through the clothes she'd just tossed on her bed, Rory found her cell phone and quickly dialed home.

"Gilmore house of yarn balls, how may I help you?" Lorelai answered, still peering out the window, slightly perplexed and disturbed by the growing cat colony on her porch.

Rory waited a split second, not quite sure of how to broach the subject. Finally she ended up just blurting it out, "Mom, your biological clock is ticking!" She winced at having heard herself, wondering how in the hell she could be making it through Yale, but still not be able to be a little more articulate than that on the phone.

Back in Stars Hollow, Lorelai's brow furrowed for a second upon hearing her daughter's outburst, but she recovered quickly enough. "No, but the timer on the coffee pot just beeped…" She paused for a second, not really sure of what her Rory was getting at. "Rory, hun, what's with the sudden quoting of bad Kirstie Alley movies?"

She headed towards the kitchen for said coffee, waiting for Rory to spit out another apparent non sequitur.

Rory ran her hand through her damp hair, trying to get something better together for take two, "Do you want kids?" Ugh… Not much better this time either…

Lorelai stopped mid-pour and set the coffee pot down. "Uh, Rory, hate to break it to you, but I think it's about nineteen years too late for me to answer that question." She giggled before continuing in true Lorelai fashion, "Aww, hun, is this your way of telling me you've finally made your decision to run away with the Ringling Brothers and leave me childless? Don't you worry now, I've got the cats to keep me company!"

Rory groaned, her mother was being impossible again, and she let her know it in her best whining voice, "Mo-om…"

"What Ror?" Lorelai was getting somewhat exasperated. She certainly knew what her daughter was asking in the literal sense, but she certainly couldn't figure out where it was all coming from. Plus it was far easier to play dumb and try and steer Rory away from wherever she was going, because if Rory dug much deeper, it might get ugly. "What am I supposed to say to that? Where the heck is all this coming from?"

"Duh, your eggs." Rory knew exactly what her mom was doing. Lorelai wasn't stupid; Rory's brains had come from somewhere, and she was willing to bet it wasn't Christopher.

So that's what had brought this up… However, in addition to the smarts she shared with her daughter, Lorelai also happened to have the gift of silly, cutesy ways of avoiding topics she desperately wanted to avoid. And Rory was hitting a little too close to home now that she was bringing up the comment Lorelai was currently dearly wishing she hadn't let slip. So cutesy it was… "Actually I was going to get pancakes at Luke's today," she pronounced coyly.

No more beating around the bush. "Mom," Rory stated flatly, "Your eggs are still viable."

"Oh…" Damn it Rory! "Right." Lorelai knew her daughter well enough to know she'd been cornered and that she couldn't fend her off anymore. So she responded in kind, with a similar lack of emotion, "And they are."

Neither Gilmore spoke for a moment, as Lorelai waited to see how far Rory would take this particular subject. Rory, on the other hand, was just trying to figure out what on earth was running though her mother's head at the moment, or what had been when she'd first been yammering on about the cats earlier. If she was being this indignant about avoiding, maybe this questioning and the 'bun' talk really had hit a nerve. So Rory went for a more gentle prodding when she posed her next question to her mother, "Do they need to be?"

Lorelai knew that was coming, but it still stunned her a bit when Rory finally spit out what she'd been trying to get at for a while now. She collapsed onto one of her kitchen chairs, and let out the only half word she could with start, "Wha…"

Hearing Lorelai suck in a quick breath and trail off like that was confirmation enough for Rory, her mom really was thinking about more kids… But she wouldn't let her overactive mind stop there, "And you didn't say anything about my 'bun in the oven' comment…" The brain was in Gilmore overdrive again, and before Rory even knew what she was thinking, she'd already jumped to some startling conclusions, "Oh my God!" She shrieked into the phone. That would explain her mom's crazy behavior! "You're already pregnant! Is Jason…"

Lorelai's jaw dropped, "Rory! Stop!"

But there was no stopping an avalanche once it got going, "…the father? Oh God, that's why you're so upset you broke up!"

"Rory, no, I'm not…" Lorelai stammered on in protest, trying in vain to get Rory to listen to her.

"Does he know? You have to tell…"

Lorelai finally butted in, loudly, flatly, and very definitively, "Rory, no. Not pregnant."

Only now realizing the crazy tangent she'd run off on, Rory stammered sheepishly into the phone, "Oh, ok, uh, sorry…"

Lorelai smiled to herself - as uncomfortable as the topic at hand was, she couldn't help but be amused by Rory's reaction. "How 'bout a little warning next time you start screeching in Mommy's ear like that? Geez, that sure as hell woke me up, who needs coffee now… Hey, that'll be a first for Luke, he'll be happy to not have to give me…" She rambled on, unconsciously trying to avoid the subject yet again.

But Rory, having put the reigns on her not-so-bright ideas, wasn't about to let her mother get away with it so easily. It was obviously bothering Lorelai, and she really just wanted to be able to talk about it with her. "Mom…"

"What?" Lorelai gasped indignantly, "You can go on random rants about my new status as an incubator and I can't babble a little?"

In a sing-song-y voice, Rory just kept going, "You're avoiding my question…"

"What?" Lorelai paused, not believing Rory was still asking her these things, "You're not serious!" she cried with a huff, "I'm not pregnant!" And she wasn't, she confirmed to herself. Just last week she'd been down at the pharmacy to grab some very necessary Tampax.

"Not that question," Rory sighed.

Lorelai was getting exasperated. This was one of the topics she'd desperately tried to ignore for the better part of the recent past. "What, kids? Rory, I have you, like I said, it's a little, late…" She trailed off, not in defeat, but as she lost herself in her own thoughts. Though no one in her life could have known, Lorelai's answer to Rory's question was a big, emphatic yes. But she'd barely admitted it to herself over the years, and as such, she'd become an expert at skirting the issue in general conversations. But it was Rory doing the conversing this time…

On her end, Rory was getting pretty exasperated herself, but she wasn't about to back down. She wasn't a reporter for the paper for nothing – persistence was the key. So she kept right on trying to pry some answers out of her mother, "Again, the avoiding!"

"The avoiding of what? There's no avoiding." To say that Lorelai was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation would have been an understatement.

"Do you want more kids?" Rory demanded.

As always, humor was Lorelai's defense mechanism of choice. "Like, more kids… In the world? Well, isn't it getting kind of crowded, like over there in China?" She joked lightly, "I would say no to them, no on the more kids."

"Mom." Rory wasn't falling for the funny stuff. If her mom was going to these lengths to not answer her, there must really be something going on… And she wanted to know what it was, even if only to help her mom out a little by understanding. "More kids. More kids for you. Like me, ones that come out of your uterus from your viable eggs." There, she mentally patted herself on the back, you can't get any more direct than that. Take that Lorelai Gilmore!

Still not quite ready to give in, Lorelai opted for one last try on the humor front, "Oh Rory, we've had this talk already… Have you forgotten about the birds and the bees already?" Remembering her actual 'birds and the bees' talk with Rory way back when, she gave a little shriek, "Ooo, fun! Should I sing again like I did the first time?" And with an excited giggle, she launched into a shaky Marvin Gaye, "It takes two baby, it takes two baby, to make a dream come true…"

Shaking her head and cringing at both her mother's antics and her singing voice, Rory whined into the receiver, "Please be serious? I mean, the words came from your mouth Mom, why bring up viable eggs when you're complaining about Jason and cats?"

"I don't know…" Lorelai's voiced faded out, her emotions getting the best of her and her resistance crumbling.

Rory sensed this, and rephrased, hoping that another version of her last question would do the trick. "I mean, I guess I never thought to ask until now, but do you want more kids? Is that why you're whining about cats outside?"

It worked. With a sigh of resignation, Lorelai replied dejectedly, "Ugh, Rory, I don't know…"

"Mom?" Rory coaxed gently.

Lorelai pursed her lips and squeezed her eyes closed for a moment. She'd dug herself a little too deep to get out now. Rory had her cornered. And she'd never tried it, maybe talking about it would actually help… "Well, yeah, you were a blast, but you're off being smart all the time now. Lorelai version 3.0 wouldn't, oh wait," Lorelai paused, correcting herself, "4.0. Gran was one…" She trailed off, unsure of how else she could express herself on the whole kid issue. "Well, you're away at Yale and all… adult-y… It wouldn't completely suck to have another one of you around." She finished quickly, almost afraid of what Rory's reaction would be. She knew it was pathetic, to be crying over Jason, and wishing for kids and whatever, but she wasn't sure she could take having Rory spell that out for her.

"Wow…" Rory was floored. Sure, she'd been thinking that Lorelai had the idea of kids in her head, but hearing her say it outright was another thing. Another kid. Now, so long after her? Now that she way away at Yale? Wait… "So wait, then, is this just your version of empty nest syndrome?" Rory questioned, slightly bewildered. "I mean, most parents of college kids are like fifty, and can't just replace the one away at school, but you can, so is that why…"

Lorelai cut Rory off before she could go any farther. "Must be." If that's what she wants to think, then so be it…

"Really…" Rory didn't buy it. It had seemed to fit, but then Lorelai had answered a little too quickly, a little too definitively, "Mom, for your usual dramatics, that was hardly convincing."

"Ugh." Lorelai rested her head on her forearm, momentarily despising Rory. "Evil child. I hate that you know me so well."

Rory smiled at that. That was the Lorelai she knew. "I am you. As you're so fond of pointing out."

"Yeah I know," Lorelai sighed. There was no use fighting Rory on it anymore, so she gave in. "So yes. Maybe I've thought about it from time to time," she admitted sheepishly.

Rory still couldn't believe it. And if it wasn't just her mom's crazy Gilmore version of empty-nest syndrome, then how long… "Since when?"

"You were eight," Lorelai stated, managing to sound almost guilty as she did.

"Eight?" Rory exclaimed, "When you wanted another kid?" Her stunned voice seemed to echo in her own ears. Half an hour ago she'd never even given a second thought to her mom wanting another kid. But for a whole decade?

"Eight," Lorelai confirmed. "I don't know, I mean, we were still in the shed at the Inn, but I had some money saved up by then, I was starting to think about getting our own house and stuff. And I was what, twenty-four? My mother, of course, made it a point to tell me that Christmas that everyone else my age who didn't drop out at sixteen were all graduated from Yale and Harvard and Dartmouth other smart rich kid places and married and having kids. I hated her for rubbing it in my face, but it got me thinking, twenty-four wouldn't have been a horrible age to have a kid. I mean, up until then, I was a little more concerned with learning hospital corners and folding napkins like swans so Mia would keep me around, but by twenty-four I thought we were doing ok. I was in charge of the whole housekeeping staff by then, so my job wasn't in trouble or anything…"

She paused, surprised by her own sudden willingness to share all of this information. None of it had ever been spoken aloud before, and from the deafening silence coming from Rory at the moment, she wasn't the only one who was surprised about all of it finally coming out in the open. What could she do at that point but finish the story?

"So yeah, twenty-four, still kind of young, but hell, compared to sixteen, I think my parents would have crowned me the queen of England for waiting until twenty-four. And once I started thinking about it, it seemed like you came home from school every single day to torture me by telling me somebody else had a new baby brother or sister…"

Rory tried to stifle a giggle at that comment, as it seemed slightly inappropriate, but she couldn't help herself.

"So yes, fine." Lorelai stated, almost defiantly, "My biological clock, as you so tactfully put it, dear daughter, started ticking when you were eight." It seemed so foreign to hear herself actually articulate her desires for another child. She'd never planned on anyone hearing any of it…

Once Rory had managed to process a bit, and wrap her mind around Lorelai's admission, she asked incredulously, "And ever since?"

"Well no," Lorelai conceded, "Most of the time reality would hit and I'd just got back to you, and working, and avoiding my mother. But recently…" She took a deep breath in an effort to compose herself and squelch some of those very same recent emotions she was referring to. "It sure as hell didn't help when Sookie had Davey…"

The longing she'd felt when Sookie had announced she was expecting was back with a vengeance as soon as she mentioned it. She'd been thrilled to death for her best friend, who herself had wanted for so long to have children. But there was always that underlying jealousy and pain at every reminder of Sookie's pregnancy… To stave off the tears she knew were coming, Lorelai quickly drew her monologue to a close in the most detached, business-like tone she could muster, "But Rory, like I said, it doesn't really matter anyway."

Aghast, Rory responded to her mother's last statement in disbelief, "Mom, it completely matters! If you want kids…" How could it not matter?

Rory didn't even get a chance to make her case that Lorelai was insane in thinking that, for whatever reason, the fact she wanted kids didn't matter. Lorelai cut her off almost right away with a defiantly hummed reprise of 'It Takes Two', "Hmm Hmm Hmmmmm HmHm…"

Now Rory was just annoyed with Lorelai for making light of what was suddenly obviously a huge issue for her. "Shut up with the song," she snapped, a little too harshly, "I said be serious."

"I am Rory." Lorelai bit back with equal venom, digging her nails into her palms in annoyance at herself for having let the conversation go too far. "Just because I'm feeling a little nostalgic when I see Davey or when you leave for Yale or when I see one of your old baby pictures, it doesn't mean I'm having another kid. You were there," she spat condescendingly, "Why do you think you didn't get a brother or sister in back then in third grade?"

"What?" Rory stammered, taken aback by the overwhelming bitterness in Lorelai's voice.

"Do you see your Dad around?" Lorelai asked pointedly. "Or anyone else with a Y chromosome? Ever? Anything close? And don't say Max, because…" Lorelai stopped, knowing exactly why she didn't want to talk about Max, but not wanting to admit it out loud. "Well, just don't say it, he doesn't count."

"Why doesn't he count?" Rory caught a regretful tone in her mom's voice, suddenly replacing the vitriol that had been there not ten seconds ago. With Lorelai's emotions apparently jumping all over, Rory couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't getting the whole story… "Mom?" She prompted inquisitively.

"He just doesn't." Lorelai replied, "I'd have never gotten to kid stage with him even if we did get married." Except she knew she would have.

Sure she hadn't loved Max like she should have, and that was, of course, why she'd called everything off. But she could have dealt with it. She could have gone through with the wedding. And they would have had kids. Max was just cut and dry like that, very practical – kids were the next step. Yes, she'd have been miserable with the marriage, but it crushed her every time she thought about the fact that, had she stayed with Max, she could have had another baby already…

Thankfully Rory had accepted her simple reasoning for Max not counting, and had moved right along with her questioning. "What about Jason?"

"Ha!" Lorelai exclaimed. For all the emotional crap she was dealing with at the moment, she had to laugh at the out right absurdity of the thought of Jason Stiles ever having kids. "He'd have weird Stepford kids who just sat in the corner and didn't make any noise, like that creepy dog," she smiled, "No, Jason was definitely not ever going to father anything of mine…"

That Rory could sympathize with. Jason had never seemed particularly fatherly to her. Not that that helped with her mother's present situation… "So you've never had more kids because you've always been single?"

"Ouch, you wound me, it wasn't always…" Lorelai lamented jokingly. "And really, I need to complain to Yale or Chilton or Miss Patty or something, because you obviously haven't absorbed anything about reproductive biology. Yes, when you're single, there's no… no… acts of conception happening anywhere."

Rory grimaced, knowing that for as close as she was to her mother, no matter how old she was, she'd never be one hundred percent comfortable with thinking about Lorelai sleeping with people. Yes, it happened, in theory, but it didn't mean she wanted to think about it in a concrete sense. "Mom…" she whined.

"Well, it's true!"

"There's other ways." Rory pointed out, thinking of adoption and other such things…

Lorelai understood immediately, and put a quick stop to Rory's train of thought, "Look Rory, I'm not that desperate. And yeah, another you would be nice, but I don't really want to have to do it again alone. If I was gonna have more kids, I want the whole package. But, again, do you have anyone that you call step-daddy? Que sera sera. C'est la vie…" She paused thoughtfully for a moment before continuing sheepishly, "Umm, I don't know anymore foreign clichés…"

"Mom…" Rory smiled and rolled her eyes at Lorelai's last comment.

Glad that Rory seemed to be finally letting the conversation die, Lorelai jumped at the chance to expedite its demise. "Let's just forget it ok. The viability of my eggs was just a regular old Freudian slip, and nothing would have even come of it if it wasn't for you and your oversized over-smart Yale brain catching me. It doesn't matter, so let's let it go. Don't you have a class to be early for, and I have a zillion inn things to do." Which was true. They'd already wasted however long on this pointless conversation, and with the test run coming, she really didn't have time to waste.

Rory knew her mom had a point with the time thing. She'd have to race to get to her first class now, but at least it'd been worth it. Or had it? She wasn't sure if she'd ended up helping Lorelai, or just upsetting her more, which definitely hadn't been her intention. Damn it, she swore to herself. The more she thought about some of the things Lorelai had said, she was sure she'd have more damage control to do when she went home for the weekend. "Mom, I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely.

Lorelai's heart ached when she heard those words. Rory being so sweet and thoughtful and perfect was exactly what had made her want more kids in the first place. She knew Rory was just trying to help, but it still hurt. "It's ok sweets, just…" She had to put an end to this conversation… "Whatever," she stated, in true flippant Lorelai Gilmore fashion, "You're an only child and there's cats outside."

She'd unwittingly wandered back over to the window over the course of their talk, and poked her head through the curtains to check on said cats. "Oh hey look, only one cat!" She shrieked, noticing the definite absence of multiple felines. "Maybe they heard us," she continued babbling to Rory, "Keep talking about kids and not being single, maybe it'll go away too!"

Rory grinned. At least it seemed her mother was somewhat back to normal, "You're insane, you know that, right?"

Content knowing that the cats were no longer multiplying outside, Lorelai headed back to her seat at the kitchen table, responding to Rory's quip as she did, "Yes, yes, I do. And you have my genes. Ha! Now get to class you, and forget all of this."

"I'm going…" Rory sighed. Putting on her best motherly tone, she made sure Lorelai knew that she felt there was still a lot to talk about, "But don't think we won't talk about this later young lady!"

Lorelai slumped in her chair, knowing that she should have figured Rory had seemed to have been letting her off the hook too easily. But she couldn't dwell on that now. Maybe she'd forget… "Yeah, yeah, I'll try and remember that along with the gazillion inn things I've got to do today. Movie night day after tomorrow??"

"Yup. Have food ready."

"Don't I always?" Lorelai teased.

"Bye Mom."

"Bye kid."

Lorelai turned the phone off and gingerly placed it down in front of her. With a quiet sigh, she ran both hands through the tangled waves of her hair and leaned her elbows on the table. That was a conversation she'd never expected, or wanted, to have. There were many, many things in her life that she shared with Rory – She was her best friend, daughter or not, but there were just things that she'd never meant to share with anyone, anyone at all.

More kids. Of course she thought about it, how could she not? Sure, her initial foray into motherhood was slightly less than orthodox, and she wouldn't trade it for anything, but was it so wrong to think she might like to try it again, in the more traditional sense?

She inwardly cringed. She'd die if her mother knew she was thinking like this, wanting the pretty picture family that Emily herself had wanted for her for so long…

But it really did come down to everything she'd told Rory. She was alone, and from her track record, it certainly looked like that was going to be the case for a while. As much as her wailing about becoming a crazy cat lady had been meant as a silly, random, meaningless complaint to her daughter, it really was one of her deepest fears. One of those things she didn't even share with Rory.

While she never saw herself actually going out and voluntarily purchasing cats to have around, she'd had plenty of visions of herself pretty much right where she was right now, just sitting around the house, all alone in Stars Hollow, as Rory ran around the world with her journalism people.

Damn 'Friends' for having their stupid ditzy characters only be able to comprehend mathematical concepts when it came to marriage and kids. Lorelai really didn't want to acknowledge any half-hour sitcom as containing any sort of wisdom whatsoever, but she did have to admit, although begrudgingly, that Rachel Green was dead on. Kids by thirty-five was ideal, with getting the guy a few years before that. And single again at thirty-six meant Lorelai was falling way behind schedule. If she wanted to ever have more kids, she needed to be dating potential fathers…

Not that she could have ever imagined Jason having a child, or seeing children as anything more than a nuisance or an investment, breaking up with him had just been a slap in the face to remind her of everything that she did her best to ignore in her everyday life. With Jason, kids weren't an issue, and the rest of her life just took over in distracting her. With all the inn preparations and issues with her parents' separation, she had little time to worry about the fact that she was going nowhere fast, at least in her personal life. She was stuck. But only she was stuck. Sookie and Jackson had made it – they'd survived a relationship, gotten married, and started the kid process. Christopher was off with his own happy little family with Sherry. Even Kirk had found Lulu. Kirk!

What the hell was so wrong with her that she could find no one to live happily ever after with when even Kirk was getting the happy ending? She wondered to herself dejectedly.

Lorelai didn't even notice when a few tears began to slip down her cheeks. It was nothing new – every time she let her mind wander to the topic of kids, a husband, the future, she always wound up at least a little misty-eyed. Or a lot misty-eyed, she conceded to herself as more tears threatened. She could never even put her finger on what exactly the crying was for, whether it was sadness, or jealousy, or something else. But there had even been a few times when she'd caught a glimpse of Sookie with Davey and had had to leave the room, lest she have to explain herself and the whole topic that she always so fervently tried to avoid be broached.

"Gah!" Lorelai jumped up from her seat with a grunt and a swipe at her damp cheeks, practically disgusted with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her when there was so much left to be done for the inn. Yes, as Rory had so vehemently pointed out, her biological clock was ticking, but the countdown to the inn's opening was ticking faster. She couldn't let herself be bothered by problems that she couldn't fix.

The pillows for the inn however, could be fixed, among all of the other things she had to attend to that day. So she did what she always did when she started getting depressed thinking about all of these things – she wiped her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand, and headed up to the shower. She had too much else to worry about; all she could do was go about her life and get to work.

On her way to the shower, she peeked through the curtains at the porch. At least the cats are gone…

To be continued