Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: Rory leaving home and Lorelai fired from the inn...it could happen.

Extreme Possibilities
By Megan Reilly
Eponine119@worldnet.att.net
January 10-11, 2001

Prologue

"Is it just me or is it _always_ Friday night?" Lorelai inquired between courses at the now-traditional Friday night dinner at her parent's house.

"Only every week," Rory commented.

"It seems to me your entire life has been one long series of one Friday night after another," Emily said.

Lorelai glared, but it was a playful glare. "Some of them were Saturday nights. And that was a long time ago."

"Time passes more quickly when you get older," Emily pointed out.

"Wow, it must really be flying by for you," Lorelai shot back.

"Anyway, today isn't Friday. It's Thursday," Emily said. "And I'll have you know I can't have you changing the schedule willy-nilly just to suit yourself."

"Missing the girls on bridge night?" Lorelai inquired.

"You have no idea," Emily replied.

"There's a new girl at school," Rory piped up, knowing talk of Chilton would distract her grandmother from attacking her mother for at least a little while.

"That's nice, Rory. Does she come from a good family?" Emily inquired.

"Ma," Lorelai warned.

"What? I was only asking."

"I'm not really sure," Rory replied. "She just started today. But it was nice. I'm not the new girl anymore." She smiled.

"Are the other children still bothering you about that?" Emily lay down her fork, concerned. "You should have said something sooner. I can call Martha on the PTA - her son's the head of the student council. I'm sure --"

"It's fine," Rory said quickly. "I'm getting along fine."

"Lorelai, if she's being shunned by the other children, you should have said something," Emily turned to her daughter.

"I didn't know she was being _shunned_. In fact, I wasn't aware that practice was still in vogue," Lorelai said. "Didn't that stop with the Quakers? Rory, are you being shunned?"

"No," Rory said. "Everything's fine."

"See, everything's fine," Lorelai reported back to Emily.

"I'm not so sure. It would be no trouble to make a telephone call," Emily continued.

"She said it was fine."

"Fine - what kind of word is fine?" Emily asked.

"It's a nice word," Lorelai said with a small grin, knowing it would feed the fire.

"Nice," Emily scoffed. "Rory, if you're having trouble at Chilton --"

"I'm not having trouble at Chilton," Rory insisted. "I just said there was a new girl."

"You said it was pleasant to not be the new girl in school anymore. That implies --"

"She wasn't implying anything --" Lorelai argued.

"I'm gonna go get a Coke," Rory said and slipped out of her chair, running toward the kitchen.

"Now look what you've done," Emily said.

"You're the one who's done it," Lorelai retorted.

"I just offered to make a phone call." Emily put on her innocent act.

"That's not what you did and you know it." Lorelai's eyes were on the kitchen, wondering if she should go in after Rory. She hated these Friday night dinners. She could never sleep afterward. No matter what day they were on.

"Rory being upset is obviously a sign something is wrong," Emily declared.

"Got that right," Lorelai muttered, getting up and throwing her napkin down onto her plate.

"Now where are you going?"

"To get a Coke," Lorelai snapped and went into the kitchen. Rory was sitting at the work table in the kitchen looking unhappy. Lorelai hated to see her daughter looking unhappy. "Rory, honey, you can't let the things your grandmother says bother you."

"She just misunderstands on purpose," Rory said irritably, then took a deep breath. Lorelai could see her pulling herself back together, into a core of strength that absolutely amazed her about her child.

"If the other kids are giving you a hard time...if you're not happy at Chilton..." Lorelai began.

"I like Chilton," Rory said quickly.

"Cause I want to say it'll get easier, but if it's not getting easier --" Lorelai continued.

"I _like_ Chilton," Rory repeated.

Lorelai broke into a smile. "I'm glad."

"Can we go get ice cream now?" Rory asked.

Lorelai nodded.

_ _ _
1.

"So...." Lorelai said as she flipped through a magazine and Rory did her homework at the kitchen table. "This weekend's the big weekend."

"Yep. Two whole days off school. Pretty big deal, if you ask me," Rory said, her delivery straight but Lorelai knew she was teasing.

"I'm talking about Harvard!" Lorelai cried.

"It's not a big deal, Mom," Rory said.

"Will you stop pretending you're not excited?" Lorelai cried. "This is the big moment you've been waiting for."

"It's not like I've been accepted," Rory said. "Or even that they've showed any interest in me at all. Or know I'm alive. They let anyone who asks take a tour."

"You are so nervous about this you can't even smile, can you?" Lorelai demanded.

"I'm not nervous," Rory said casually. She sensed Lorelai's stare. "Maybe a little."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's a great school. They're going to love you," Lorelai said. "Because you're smart and you're beautiful and you're nice --"

"Stop," Rory told her.

"And you're the best kid there is," Lorelai finished, ignoring Rory's request. "You're still not smiling." Rory didn't even try to fake a smile. In fact, the more Lorelai looked at her, the more she looked unhappy. "Why aren't you smiling? I'm not pushing you, am I? I'm not going to turn into a mother who pushes."

"You're not pushing me," Rory said.

"That's a relief," said Lorelai. "Seriously, babe, what's wrong? Spill it. I want to know."

"What if I don't like them?" Rory asked.

"Oh, honey, is that what's bothering you?" Lorelai demanded, flipping closed her magazine and putting her arm around her daughter.

"It's just, Harvard's been my dream forever. What if I get there and it's too cold or there's no trees or the food stinks?"

"Then you'll go somewhere else," Lorelai said.

"It's not that simple," Rory said.

"It is that simple. And that's why we're going on the weekend tour," Lorelai said. "So you can see if the food stinks and if it's too cold and if the kids are nice."

"But after I've said I wanted to go to Harvard so many times to everyone who'll listen, what are they gonna think if I change my mind now?" Rory asked.

"It doesn't matter what other people think. It only matters what you think. And if something's not going to make you thrillingly, wonderfully happy, it's not worth doing," Lorelai told her. Rory looked at her and smiled. Then the timer on the stove went off.

"Are you cooking something?" Rory asked.

Lorelai looked at the stove curiously. "No," she said. "I set the timer because I had to remember something."

"What?"

"I don't remember," Lorelai said, brows furrowed. A moment passed. "Wait, yes I do. I'm supposed to meet this guy from my business class in Hartford to discuss a project."

"Good thing you set the timer or you would have forgot," Rory said.

"I was trying to forget," Lorelai said.

"Then don't go," Rory advised.

"I have to go," Lorelai said, getting up and turning off the timer, then tossing her magazine onto the counter.

"Not if it's not going to make you happy," Rory said.

"Getting an F in a class I paid big bucks to take because I couldn't be bothered to meet a guy with bad hygiene to discuss the project would make me less happy then having to meet a guy with bad hygiene to discuss a project," Lorelai said. "I'll be back in a couple hours and then we'll get dinner, okay?"

"I'll be here," said Rory, hauling an enormous book from her backpack. The weight of it was enough to make the table shake.

"Careful with those things," Lorelai advised.

_ _ _

Lorelai ran into the coffee shop near the school, late. Not only had she gotten a late start there had been a ton of traffic on the road to Hartford. She wondered how Rory put up with the commute into the city every day.

Donald, her classmate and partner on the assignment, was there of course. Lorelai frowned as he got to his feet and raised his hand to wave her over. There were huge sweat rings around his pits. She was surprised several people didn't keel over in sudden death at the smell. She waved and went to the counter, requesting a large coffee before she made her way over there.

"Hi, Lorelai," Donald said, his wide grin revealing his desperate need for dental floss.

"Hey, Don," she said, putting her notebook on the table and guzzling her coffee.

"You look really nice today," he said.

Great, she thought. "Thanks." She tried to brush him off. "Anyway, about this."

"I know, can you believe we're both taking the class because we want to open bed & breakfasts?"

"Don, it's a hospitality management class, everyone wants to open their own place, get over it," Lorelai said. "Anyway, I'll be in Boston over the weekend so I can check out the scene there if you want to --"

"Still, don't you think it's fate?" Donald asked, reaching for her hand as he began to cough.

Lorelai jerked her hand back, barely covering the movement by picking up her drink and tossing back some more java. Donald continued to hack and cough, to her dismay as his face turned red and germs flew everywhere. "Are you gonna be okay?" Lorelai asked.

Don nodded. "Mind if I have some?" he nodded toward her coffee cup, gasping for enough air to talk.

"It's all yours," Lorelai said, disgusted by the entire display. Donald slurped her coffee and she mourned its loss.

"So why don't you handle the book research and I'll do the interviews and we can outline the paper next week after class," Lorelai suggested, wanting this meeting over as quickly as possible.

"Can I have your phone number?" Don asked, then sneezed several times in succession. Lorelai's eyes widened as she watched him wipe his nose on his sleeve. He caught her looking horrified. "I mean, in case something comes up."

"Nothing'll come up. Besides, I'm never home. I work. A lot," Lorelai said. A faint ringing sound began to emanate from Don's person. "Gee, is that your phone? You should take that. I'll see you in class."

"Bye, Lorelai," Don said, leaving her blissfully alone.

"Why do I always get the scary ones who like me?" Lorelai sighed to herself, then finished off her coffee. She'd already swallowed it when she realized what she'd just done. She cringed and made a face and picked up a wad of napkins and wiped her mouth and, for good measure, her tongue. "Ew," she declared.

_ _ _

Jackson was leaning against the counter as Sookie ever so gently manipulated a perfect tomato in her hand. He was just waiting for her to squeeze a little too hard and for the entire thing to go POP and explode with red juice all over both of them. Sookie squinted at it, eyeing the fruit carefully, then set it down between them.Jackson raised an eyebrow. Sookie raised an eyebrow. The music from the gunfight in High Noon played. A tumbleweed drifted by in the silence.

"Can you get me 25 pounds?" Sookie asked at last.

"Done," Jackson replied.

"I am going to make the most wonderful tomato sauce you have ever tasted. Are you hungry?" Sookie asked, moving deeper into the kitchen. Jackson felt a foreboding of dread. The kitchen was filled with hazards.

"I think I'm okay," he said, but Sookie had produced an entire plate filled with bite-sized pieces of whatever unrecognizable thing she was working on. His stomach got the best of him and he tried one of the samples. It almost brought him to his knees.

"But you can't deliver them on Saturday. I won't be here on Saturday, and the guy who'll be here wouldn't know a tomato from a baseball," Sookie declared.

"Sunday okay?" >

"Perfect," Sookie declared.

Jackson started out of the kitchen, plate still in hand. He passed Lorelai in the doorway. "She taking care of you?" Lorelai asked.

Jackson nodded, because his mouth was too full to speak.

"That's what I like to hear," Lorelai said, patting him on the shoulder.

Sookie handed Lorelai some coffee, which Lorelai set down on the counter without drinking. "Are you all right?" Sookie asked.

"I had kind of a disgusting coffee experience earlier, I think it put me off," Lorelai said.

"Rory looking forward to this weekend?"

"Rory is incredibly nervous and trying valiantly not to let it show," Lorelai said. "The question is, are you looking forward to this weekend?"

"I can't believe we're going," Sookie admitted. "Hungry?" Sookie asked.

"Nah, I gotta go have dinner with my kid. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right here."

"Fine and dandy," Sookie reported.

"Great. See you tomorrow then."

"Bright and early," Sookie promised.

_ _ _

Lorelai sat at her usual table at Luke's, waiting for Rory to get there. Luke was hovering nearby, trying to be unobtrusive but making his presence known. Finally he sank down into the chair opposite Lorelai. "Well?"

"You look tense," Lorelai said.

"You're driving me crazy."

"I have that effect on men, I drive them wild," Lorelai grinned.

"Aren't you going to ask me for it?" Luke asked.

"Ask you for what?"

"I'm not going to bring it unless you ask me for it," Luke cautioned. Luke groaned. "Coffee."

"I'm not having coffee," she told him, as though he was silly to suggest such a thing.

"Who are you and what have you done with Lorelai Gilmore?" Luke demanded, but Lorelai's cell phone started to ring. "Outside," he ordered gruffly, knowing she would pull it out and answer it there on the table, despite his no-cell phone policy.

"Oh, hi, Mom," Lorelai said.

"That's what you get for answering it," Luke said as he moved away to wait on his customers who were no doubt being perturbed by her conversation.

"Who was that?" Emily Gilmore demanded.

"Just Luke," Lorelai answered.

"How much time do you spend with that man?" Emily demanded.

"He fixes every meal I eat," Lorelai reported. "Why are you calling?" "No," Lorelai answered.

"I thought you might like some company on your trip tomorrow."

"No," Lorelai said.

"You can relax, Lorelai, I'm not talking about me," Emily said. Lorelai hated that little hurt quality she got to her tone. "Your father and I are going to the spa for the weekend, which leaves our driver free. I thought you might want to take advantage of him."

"I was never allowed to take advantage of the driver before," Lorelai replied. "You told me if I ever went to his quarters after dark I'd be hung by my toenails. From the tree outside. In the rain."

"I thought you might like for him to drive you to Boston," Emily clarified, not appreciative of Lorelai's attempts at humor.

"I think we're okay, Mom," Lorelai said.

"I just thought it might be nice for you --"

"I've got it covered. Thank you," Lorelai insisted.

"He's available --"

"Mom. I can drive us. Thank you for the offer. Was there something else you needed?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Emily said. "You know my number if you change your mind." She hung up.

"Those things cause brain cancer, you know," Luke offered as Lorelai put her phone away.

"They do not," Lorelai told him. "No," Luke and Lorelai said at the same moment.

"How was your meeting?" Rory asked.

"Ugh, gross," Lorelai replied. "How was your homework?"

Rory shrugged. "Finished now."

"How did I ever end up with a kid who finishes her homework on Friday night? That's sick," Lorelai said.

"I don't usually," Rory said. "This is a special occasion."

"You feeling better?" Lorelai asked, and Rory nodded. "Got plans for tonight?"

"Lane and Dean and I are going to a movie," Rory said. "You?"

"Guess I'll do my homework," Lorelai said, and Rory nodded.

_ _ _

"My mom wants to drag me on a college tour," Lane reported some time later as she and Rory met up.

"What's stopping her?" Rory asked.

"She can't find any all-female Christian Korean colleges," Lane said.

"I'm sure they exist," Rory offered.

"I hope not," Lane shuddered. "I can't believe you have your whole future planned out."

"It's not like it's all planned out. It's just...I know what I want," Rory replied.

"I'm gonna miss you," Lane said, wrapping her arms around Rory in an uncharacteristic hug.

"Where did that come from?" Rory asked, trying to pull away.

"I'm not going to Harvard. And it's bad enough I never see you at school," Lane said.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean asked as he walked up to the girls.

"Lane was prematurely missing me when I go away to college," Rory answered. "But that's a long time from now."

"Two years," Dean said.

"Where are you going to college, Dean?" Lane asked.

Dean shrugged and Rory got the real impression it wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

Just then a woman ducked out of the movie theater. "It's starting," she told the teenagers, then went back inside.

"We'd better go in," Rory said. None of them moved for a second, and then they all went inside together.

_ _ _

The alarm was ringing and the sun shone brightly through the window the next morning. Lorelai groaned and stuck her hand out from beneath the blankets bundled around her, covering her head, and turned it off. She heard the door open and Rory come in, but she didn't move.

"Mom," Rory said.

"Just five more minutes," Lorelai said, or tried to.

"What's wrong with your voice?" Rory demanded as Lorelai sat up.

"I don't know," she rasped again, then started to cough violently, ending with a wet sniffle.

"You're sick," Rory diagnosed.

"I am not," Lorelai said miserably. "I'm fine."

Rory put her hand to Lorelai's forehead. "You have a fever."

"It's from the blankets," Lorelai insisted, getting out of bed. She swayed a little as the room spun.

"You're sick," Rory said again.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and groaned as she shut the bathroom door. She examined her eyes and her eyelids and her throat in the mirror. She was sick. "Damn it," she muttered.

"How high's your fever?" Rory called through the door.

"No fever. I feel fine," Lorelai said and then began sneezing. She rummaged through the cabinet for some medicine, finding only a bottle of green nighttime liquid.

"How could you let this happen?" Rory demanded.

Lorelai took a deep breath and then swigged the medicine. "I'm fine," she declared, emerging from the bathroom.

"How are we supposed to go to Harvard if you're sick?" Rory asked.

"I'm fine," Lorelai insisted, her eyelids drooping. "I took some medicine and I'll be perfectly okay..." Her words trailed off as she fell back into bed, collapsing limply and with a snore.

_ _ _
2.

Lorelai's eyes were red-rimmed and her nose was dripping, but she made a valiant effort to appear completely normal as she accompanied Rory to Luke's for breakfast.

"Who died?" Luke asked, sounding a bit stricken with worry when he saw Lorelai.

"Mom's sick," Rory told him.

"I am not! Stop saying that. I never get sick," Lorelai said, then started coughing. Luke and Rory shared a doubtful look. "I just need some coffee."

"You need some chicken soup and some bed rest," Luke informed her.

"I took medicine. I'll be fine. I can't go back to bed and I can be sick because Rory and I are going to Harvard and Sookie and I are going to look at some historic bed and breakfasts and I have too much to do to be sick," Lorelai said.

"Sorry I asked," Luke said, delivering her a cup of coffee, which she made an effort to choke down in between sniffles.

"Mom, it's okay. We can go to Harvard some other weekend," Rory told her.

"No. We're going this weekend, and that's final. I am not going to disappoint you," Lorelai insisted. "There were two promises I made to myself when I held you in the hospital after you were born. One was not to drop you on your head and the other was to never disappoint you."

"I won't be disappointed," Rory promised, but Lorelai was resting her chin in her hand and her eyelids drooped closed.

"What kind of medicine did she take?" Luke asked after watching this display.

"I think there was some old Nyquil in the cabinet," Rory said, nudging Lorelai, who woke with a start.

"What?" she demanded. "I was just pretending."

"Then tell me what we said while you were asleep," Rory demanded.

"You said I drink too much coffee?" Lorelai guessed.

"You can't drive if you're going to fall asleep every ten minutes," Rory told her.

"Good thing you can drive then," Lorelai told Rory with a grin, which only segued back into a miserable sneezing fit.

Luke returned from the kitchen again and plunked a large plastic container on the table in front of her. "Drink one cup every four hours and you'll be better in no time," he ordered.

"More coffee?" she asked, because she knew it would make him growl like a bear. She almost laughed. "See, this will cure me before we get within 20 miles of Boston," she told Rory.

"I think we should stay home," Rory told her responsibly.

"No. I'm going. And that's final," Lorelai said.

"Lorelai. Where have you been?" Michel dashed into the diner. Then he stopped and looked around as though he'd never seen a diner that used to be a hardware store before.

"Missed me already?" Lorelai asked. "That wasn't nearly insulting enough. Maybe I am sick," she reconsidered.

"Maybe you will lose your voice," Michel said hopefully. "You must come to the inn, there is an emergency of the highest order."

"I can't come to the inn, this is my day off and I'm going to Boston with Rory," Lorelai told him. "I arranged this months in advance."

"Did you arrange it with Mr. Webster, the owner of the inn?" Michel asked.

"Why would I tell him, he's never around. Legend has it he died in 1991 and no one noticed," Lorelai said.

"He didn't," Michel said. "And you must come to the inn at once because Mr. Webster is here, and he is not happy."

"He's here?!" Lorelai cried, jumping up from her chair. The room spun, telling her that hadn't been such a great idea, and she stopped a second, swaying. "Rory, honey, I'm really sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can. Twenty minutes. I promise. Fifteen." She hurried out after Michel, then realized she'd forgotten her coat, which she went back for. "Ten minutes, I promise," she told Rory.

"It's okay, Mom," Rory told her. "Here, don't forget your tissues. Or your soup." She loaded up Lorelai's arms and sent her on her way.

Luke stopped by the table. "You okay, kid?"

Rory nodded.

"Your mom tries hard," Luke said.

"I know," Rory told him. He looked at her for a long second, as though intrigued by her calm, then shrugged and moved on.

_ _ _

Lorelai snuck in through the back door. The kitchen was a mess of clattering pots and pans and cooks and assistants scurrying everywhere. "Sookie?" Lorelai rasped, maneuvering through the chaos.

"Can you believe it? And he showed up right after I slipped and cut my hand."

"You hurt yourself? Let me see," Lorelai said to her clumsy friend.

"It's fine, but let me tell you, it was a gusher before," Sookie said good-naturedly. "What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," Lorelai insisted.

"You're sick! You need some hot soup and to go right back to bed," Sookie ordered.

"I can't," Lorelai told her.

"Oh my gosh, Rory, is she disappointed about not going to Boston?" Sookie asked.

"She's such a good kid," Lorelai said, pouring another cup of coffee, taking a moment to be grateful that she'd dressed for the day in clothes that were appropriate for having to go to the inn. "Guess I'd better face the beast."

"Good luck!" Sookie told her. "Cause you'll need it, believe me." She turned around to jump back into the fray as Lorelai walked into the lobby.

"Where is Lorelai Gilmore?!" an older, balding man in a very, very expensive suit bellowed.

"That would be me," Lorelai smiled, setting her coffee aside and holding out her hands. "Mr. Webster, I apologize for not being here when you arrived."

"You're sick," Webster said with horror.

"It's an allergy, nothing major," Lorelai promised, recognizing a terror of germs when she saw one. She was still holding her hand out for him to shake, and pulled it back. "But we can be on the safe side," she said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you after all these years," Webster said gruffly.

"Oh, Mr. Webster. Such a kidder," Lorelai teased. "We met before. It was 1984, but I still remember it."

"1984? It couldn't have been. That entire year I was caught up with my divorce in the south of France," Webster told her, his brows drawing together angrily.

"But you came here for rest and recuperation," Lorelai told him. "Don't you remember?" Webster looked blank. "It doesn't matter, we remember you. Maybe it'll come back to you if I show you around. Let me show you the things we've done with the inn."

"Yes. I want a tour immediately," Webster declared. "I've been to the kitchen and it's a mess. If the rest of this place is as shoddily run as that, Hyatt will never want to buy this dump."

Lorelai blinked, trying not to appear stricken. "Is Hyatt one of your business associates?" she asked.

"Hyatt Regency," Webster clarified. "Why they'd want an inn in the middle of nowhere is beyond me. Nice land, though, not far from the turnpike. They could probably tear this place down and turn it into a nice swimming pool for a luxury hotel."

A swimming pool," Lorelai repeated.

"What kind of hotel manager's never heard of Hyatt Regency? What kind of morons did I hire to run this place?" Webster demanded.

"That moron would be me," Lorelai said with a very, very unhappy smile. "If you'll give me a minute to confer with Michel --"

"Let's go now. Before you can put the order out to clean up the place," Webster ordered, and waited for Lorelai to lead the way. She looked back at Michel for assistance, but he looked equally as bulldozed as she felt.

_ _ _

Rory walked along the main street in Stars Hollow toward the inn to meet Lorelai. "Rory! What are you doing here?" Lane demanded.

Rory turned around and saw Lane with Dean. "What are you doing with my boyfriend?" she asked.

"Stealing him from you," Lane told her.

Rory looked to Dean.

"She's joking," Dean clarified, and Rory nodded.

"Why aren't you in Boston?" Lane demanded.

"My mom's sick and something came up at the inn, so I don't think we're going to go," Rory said.

"Is that okay with you?" Dean asked, moving away from Lane to stand comfortingly close to Rory.

"It has to be," Rory said. "Wanna come to the inn with me?"

"Will there be Sookie's rocky road cookies?" Dean teased.

"Lots of them," Rory promised, and the three of them fell into step.

_ _ _

"And this is our harpist, Drella," Lorelai introduced Mr. Webster as they completed their tour of the inn and returned to the lobby, pausing near the woman and her harp.

Drella finished adjusting herself as they waited. "What're you looking at?" she demanded finally.

"Drella, this is Mr. Webster. The man who owns Independence Inn," Lorelai said, with an inflection that would hopefully give Drella a clue that this was someone to impress. But the woman just nodded and began to play, ignoring them both as the continued to stand there.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she advised sharply. Lorelai cringed as Mr. Webster gasped.

Michel looked harried at the counter and held the telephone out to Lorelai. "Is there a problem?" Lorelai inquired.

"An unsatisfied guest traumatized by that harp, I'm sure," Mr. Webster declared.

"It is your mother," Michel told Lorelai. "She has called fifteen times since you left eleven minutes ago."

"I should take this," Lorelai told Webster with her most charming of smiles. "Mom, this is a bad time," she smiled into the phone.

"Lorelai, you sound dreadful," Emily declared.

"Thank you," Lorelai said. "Was there a purpose to your call?"

"I thought you were supposed to be in Boston."

"You're checking up on me?" Lorelai asked.

"I just wanted to make the offer of my driver again and see if you would accept it this time," Emily told her. "It would be in your best interest --" "I thought today was a bad time," Rory said, looking at Webster, who had pulled Michel to the front window to demand to know why the side of the curtains that faced the window were lighter than the curtains that didn't face outside.

"No, this is perfect. You, Lane and Dean can go. Then you won't be alone and you'll still have a good time while I'm stuck here," Lorelai said. "Say yes."

"Okay, yes," Rory said.

"Lorelai, what are you proposing?" Emily demanded from the other end of the telephone line. "You are not sending my granddaughter off alone with that boy to a strange city."

"They'll be fine," Lorelai said. "Send your driver down to the inn. He can be their chaperone and make sure they don't get into any trouble. Not that Rory would get into any trouble."

"My driver is a driver, he is not a chaperone for hormone-addled teenagers," Emily insisted.

"Mom, do you want your granddaughter to be a Harvard alumna or not?" Lorelai asked.

"He'll be there in 25 minutes." Emily hung up the phone. "I'm sure they'll be thrilled," Dean said, again with the note in his tone that college was something he didn't like thinking about. Rory looked at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. She would have to ask him about it later.

"But Mom, you wanted to go," Rory pointed out.

"It's okay. I'd rather you go and see it without me than not go at all," Lorelai told her, although she suddenly felt teary like she had on Rory's first day of school. She sniffled and hoped the cold would be a cover for it. "I think I need a hug."

Rory wrapped her arms around her mother as Mr. Webster returned with Michel. "What's this?" Webster demanded. "Do you allow hooligans free reign in my inn?"

Lorelai felt her temper flare. Now Webster was just being out of line, as well as being completely dense on purpose. Obviously Lorelai wouldn't be hugging some random hooligan. "Mr. Webster, this is my daughter Rory," Lorelai said.

"What kind of name is that for a girl?" Webster demanded gruffly.

"Maybe you should wait outside," Lorelai suggested.

"Don't kick his butt, Mom," Rory leaned in to whisper before she went outside with Lane and Dean.

"Mr. Webster," Lorelai said. "What else would you like to see? The grounds, perhaps?"

"I think I've seen enough," Webster declared. "I had intended to keep the staff on until the deal went through but I see this place is a bastion of wastefulness and mismanagement. You're all fired!" He made a sweeping gesture with his arm as his words threw them all into silence.

_ _ _

3.

Lorelai was the first to recover from the shock. "Come on, Mr. Webster. You don't mean that," she said as playfully as she could, considering she was terrified and her heart was breaking.

"I mean everything I say, Ms. Gilmore," Webster declared. "I will stay the weekend to make arrangements to close the inn down as soon as possible. I expect no resistance from you or your staff." He turned to go to the elevator. Like a man kicking a dog just because it was down, he stopped by Drella. "Stop playing that wretched thing," he said.

"Bite me," she declared.

Webster's face turned red and Lorelai half expected his head to explode. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

"You can't fire me. I quit," Drella declared and got up, beginning to push her harp toward the door. Webster continued to the elevator.

Lorelai hid her face in her hands and melted onto the counter. "Kill me now," she wailed to Michel, who was still incredibly stunned.

_ _ _

"This is fun," Rory said, swinging her feet in the backseat of the limousine her grandmother had sent for them.

"It's like we're rock stars! We can watch TV - in a car! I can't even watch TV in my room," Lane said, fiddling with the controls, bouncing hyperactively.

"This is your grandmother's car?" Dean asked Rory.

"Looks that way," Rory said. "It's something of a surprise to me, too."

"Does she use it to go to grocery shopping?" Dean asked.

"I don't think she goes grocery shopping," Rory said. "She probably gets one of the maids to do it for her. Or the cook."

"Your grandmother has maids, and a cook," Dean said.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Rory asked.

Dean shrugged and shook his head, turning to look out the window.

"Just because my grandmother has money doesn't make me weird. She's got nothing to do with the way I live my life," Rory continued, not sure why she felt the need to push this. To make Dean understand. Maybe it was because he so clearly didn't understand, or because it had made him quiet and distant.

"It's no big deal," Dean said, continuing to watch the scenery out the window. Rory frowned at him, then pulled her feet up under her and opened the book she'd brought with her.

"He's just being a typical guy," Lane whispered to her.

Rory looked at her friend.

"He can't help it," Lane said. "It's perfectly normal."

Sometimes Rory wondered why Lane seemed to know so much when Lane had never had a boyfriend. Maybe she'd honed her powers of observation on the dates her mother made her go on, with various pre-approved boys.

"You shouldn't read in the car," Dean told her. "You'll get carsick," he warned.

"No I won't," Rory said. "I'll be fine."

"Have it your way," Dean said.

"What does that mean?" Rory asked.

He merely shrugged silently again.

"Are we having a fight?" Rory demanded.

Dean looked at her innocently. Not an act. "No," he told her.

"Good," Rory said, backing off. "Cause I'd hate to have one and not know I was having one," she finished lamely, feeling embarrassed. Dean watched her for a second before nodding and returning to looking out the window. Rory wished she could crawl into her book and hide.

_ _ _

"Coffee. I need coffee. Lots of it," Lorelai wailed, still not picking up her head.

"He could not have meant that," Michel said. "Lorelai. Lorelai." He began to shake her.

She picked up her head, which was aching and felt filled with ick. "What?"

"You must use your crazy American ways to persuade him not to close the inn," Michel told her. She'd never seen him look scared before.

"Which crazy American ways would those be?" Lorelai asked.

"The insane ones," Michel drawled.

"Oh, those. I've got a fresh bag right here," Lorelai said. But Michel looked so miserable she couldn't torment him. She patted his shoulder. "It'll be okay." Neither of them believed it. Lorelai moaned and went into the kitchen.

Sookie and the crew were still working hard, banging metal around as they rearranged the entire kitchen. It looked like two of them had been put to work moving the stove, which would never work, because it was firmly locked into place.

"You can stop now," Lorelai said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"But Mr. Webster said --" Sookie began.

"There's been a new proclamation from Mr. Webster. We're all fired. He's closing the inn."

"What?" Sookie gasped, and all motion stopped.

"I'm sorry," Lorelai said.

"No. No, this can't be happening. This is all a bad dream," Sookie said. "It's the blood loss, from my cut. This is not happening."

"Sookie. Calm down," Lorelai said. "We'll figure something out."

"Independence Inn has been here since the Revolutionary War," Sookie said. "He can't just close it, just like that."

"He's the owner," Lorelai said as gently as she could. "I know, I want to go run out in front of a semi truck myself." She sneezed, as though to make her point. "But we'll find a way."

"Does Rory know?" Sookie asked.

"I sent her to Harvard with Lane and Dean," Lorelai said, pouring another cup of coffee.

"This is going to break her heart," Sookie said.

"All our hearts. I think Michel is going to cry and he hates this place," Lorelai said.

"Only one thing to do for a broken heart," Sookie said, looking on the verge of tears herself. "Chocolate mousse. Guys." She signaled the kitchen crew, who stopped trying to move the stove. "I'll have to get Jackson to send over some fresh cream. And some kiwi."

"Kiwi in chocolate mousse?" Lorelai asked.

"It's the secret ingredient," Sookie said. "I don't know where he's going to find Kiwi this time of year."

"He won't let you down," Lorelai said, patting Sookie on the shoulder and going back to the lobby, where she was going to have to break the news to the rest of the crew.

_ _ _

"I think I can see it," Rory said, peering out the window at the buildings they were passing. "I definitely think I might be able to see it."

"Who cares, I just saw Matt Damon," Lane squealed.

"Where?" Rory demanded, bouncing to the other side of the limo.

"That guy in the green jacket," Lane pointed. "You can still see the back of his head."

"Was he with Ben Affleck?" Dean asked drolly.

"Would Matt Damon really wear a jacket like that?" Rory asked.

"Are you saying it wasn't him?" Lane demanded.

"Wouldn't he be in Hollywood?" Rory pointed out.

"Maybe they're making Good Will Hunting 2," Lane suggested.

Rory and Dean shared a doubtful look.

"You never know," Lane said.

The car rolled to a stop. "Are we stopping?" Rory asked. "I think we're stopping. We must be here. Okay, I'm nervous. I admit it now."

"Rory. Be calm," Lane suggested.

"Yeah, Rory. It'll be okay," Dean told her, reassuringly rubbing her arm. "If you can face Chilton, this should be no sweat."

"Right," Rory said. "We'll just take a quick look around and then go. Or stay. Depending. On if it's quick. Or not."

The car door opened. "We've arrived, Miss Rory," the driver said elegantly.

"That means get out of the car now," Lane said, giving Rory a little push.

"I just want to be prepared the first time I see it. So it can be special." Rory said. She took a deep breath. "Okay." She stepped out of the car, followed by Lane and Dean, onto a sidewalk. An ordinary sidewalk facing an ordinary looking school.

"I'll wait here for you, miss," the driver said, tipping his hat and getting back into the car.

Rory stood a moment, breathing it in. "Well?" Lane asked after a moment. Rory nodded, wide-eyed.

"That group of people is probably the tour." Dean pointed to a gathering of people, mostly teenagers like themselves, each paired with a parent.

The tour guide, a student barely older than they were but somehow much more sophisticated, smiled at them warmly as they joined the group. "We're all here. Let's go," the tour guide said, beginning to walk backward in front of the group so he could point things out as they went along. "Harvard was founded in the year..."

_ _ _

The atmosphere at the inn had changed. Everything was quiet, solemn. Lorelai looked at it as though she was looking at it all for the last time. Even though she refused to think of it that way. There had to be something they could do to change his mind.

Webster sat in the lobby, making telephone call after telephone call from the couch in the corner, his briefcase propped open in front of him, a pen working furiously between his fingers. "Go talk to him," Michel told Lorelai.

She looked at him.

"You know you want to," Michel said.

"I think you want me to," Lorelai replied, and they went back to watching Webster do the deals that would not only throw them out of work but close a place they loved. Michel busied himself. "Fine," Lorelai said, even though he'd not said anything or given her another glance. She began to march over to Webster, but changed her method halfway and decided to be relaxed. "Lorelai!" The woman's cheerful voice boomed from across the lobby and a moment later Lorelai found herself engulfed in the large arms of a former client. "You probably don't remember me, do you?" "They're divorced. Like most kids these days," Mrs. White said. "But that hasn't affected my love for this place. Or my devotion to you for all your help."

"I'm glad to hear that, Mrs. White," Lorelai said, aware that Webster was watching the conversation interestedly. "You know, there is an antique shop in town that I think you're going to love."

"How nice of you to remember!" Mrs. White said.

"In fact, I think I saw some Carnival glass in there last week. That was a favorite of yours, wasn't it?" Lorelai asked.

"You're amazing. If my daughter ever gets married again, we are having the wedding right here," Mrs. White declared. "And now I must find this Carnival glass..." She wandered off.

Lorelai looked to Webster. "Sorry about the interruption," she said. "Right this way." Lorelai picked up his briefcase to carry it for him and led him to the elevators, glancing over her shoulder at Michel, who looked quite hopeful.

_ _ _

"And now that it's time for a late lunch, I'm sure you'll be happy to know our next stop is at the dining hall," the tour guide continued. He winked before he turned around to lead them into the brick building.

"He winked at me!" Lane cried. "A college boy winked at me! My mother would be so scandalized."

"He hasn't been able to take his eyes off you the whole tour," Rory told her.

"You're joking," Lane gushed.

"I think you should sit with him," Rory suggested as they picked up plastic trays.

"You're just saying that because you want to be alone with Dean," Lane said as she looked back at Dean, who was still picking up his silverware.

"Yes," Rory agreed. "But I wouldn't leave you alone if I didn't think there was something in it for you."

Lane looked at the tour guide. "You think I should?"

"You only live once," said Rory.

"'Scuse me!" Lane cried as she jumped the line, winding up next to the tour guide.

"What was all the whispering about?" Dean asked Rory as he put his tray on the rail next to hers.

"Nothing," Rory answered. "Are you having a nice time?"

Dean nodded.

"Could you say it like you mean it?" Rory asked.

"I'm having an nice time," Dean told her with a smile that seemed sincere, but she wasn't convinced. But she knew if she kept on about it, even if he was having a good time, he'd start to have a bad time and she didn't want that to happen. So she said nothing as they continued along the line.

_ _ _

Lorelai knocked lightly, carrying the tray Sookie had prepared for Mr. Webster. She'd grumbled, but Sookie could never produce food that was less than stunningly good even if she tried. "I brought your lunch, Mr. Webster," she said.

"I know what you're up to," he told her as he let her inside, where she strode across the room and set the tray on the desk. "You're trying to get me to change my mind."

"Will it work?" Lorelai asked.

Webster chuckled, which may or may not have been a good sign. "I do remember meeting you in 1984," he said. "It just came back to me, seeing you there in the doorway. You were the pregnant maid who tended my room."

"That was me," Lorelai confirmed.

"And that girl from earlier, that was..." he said.

"My daughter. Rory," Lorelai smiled.

"You seem proud. That's good," Webster said, idly picking up a piece of chicken from the plate with his fingers. Lorelai watched him put it in his mouth and amazement come into his eyes as he chewed it. "This is delightful."

"I'll let the chef know, sir," Lorelai said.

"That clumsy woman in the kitchen made this?" Webster asked incredulously, taking another bite.

"I might phrase it differently, though," Lorelai told him.

"Mm! This is good! Mmmm," Webster sighed.

"I think I'll leave the two of you alone," Lorelai said, and closed the door gently behind her.

She returned to hopeful eyes in the lobby. "Well?" Sookie asked.

"He liked it," Lorelai said. "He said it was delightful."

Sookie jumped happily and clapped her hands while Michel snorted. "It would be better if he'd said he would keep the inn open," he said.

"Yeah, he also said he knew what we were doing, trying to impress him," Lorelai said, her face falling.

"You did your best," Sookie patted her friend's shoulder. Lorelai nodded absently.

_ _ _

"So what's going on with you?" Rory asked Dean as they sat down together in the dining hall.

"Nothing's going on with me," Dean told her.

"Come on," Rory said. "Every time anyone mentions the word 'college' it's like you were the brightest lamp in the room and suddenly there's a power outage."

"I'd think a girl who reads as much as you do could come up with a better metaphor than that," Dean said.

Rory just looked at him.

"I don't like colleges, that's all," Dean told her.

"How can you not like colleges? Colleges aren't something that inspire feelings one way or another," Rory told him. "They're just there, as a group, a class, a phylum."

"You're in love with Harvard," Dean told her. "That's an inspired feeling."

"I'm not _ in love _ with Harvard," Rory told him. "It's like a car. It might be a really great car, and you think about it and what it's going to be like to drive it, and it's your dream to someday have it, but you're not in love with it."

"I've known some people who were in love with their cars," Dean told her.

"This isn't about cars, Dean," Rory said. "This is about that look you get."

"What look?" he asked, even as he made the face she was referring to. "I'm not going to college," he told her. "You're going to Harvard and I'm going to be the bag boy."

"I'm sure you won't be bag boy," Rory said. "They'll promote you."

"Be serious," Dean told her, frustrated. She looked at him seriously. "My family doesn't have money like yours does." "They're paying for Chilton," Dean told her.

"My mom is paying them back. It's a loan."

"And you're going to get loans for Harvard?" Dean asked.

"Loans, scholarships, a job. Whatever I have to," Rory told him. "And there's nothing stopping you from doing that, either."

"You don't understand," Dean told her.

"I do understand," Rory insisted.

"You can't understand because you don't know what it's like," Dean roared. "I don't want to fight with you. So I don't want to talk about it."

Rory looked at him, biting her lip.

"Okay?" Dean asked gently.

"Okay," Rory replied. She glanced at Lane, sitting with the tour guide. "She's going to be so grounded."

"I don't think she cares," Dean said, smiling. Rory looked at him and smiled too.

_ _ _
4.

Lorelai was out for a walk on her break on a day she'd requested to have off in the first place. At least she felt less sick. She just wish she'd taken off with Rory before Michel found her, before any of this mess with the inn happened.

How was she going do without the inn? She loved the inn.

"I can't hear the beat," Miss Patty's voice came from inside the dance studio.

"Does it look like a drum? There is no beat. It's a harp."

Lorelai smiled and peeked inside. As she'd suspected, Drella had her harp set up in the corner of Miss Patty's dance studio. Neither of the women looked happy.

"How can the children dance if there is no beat?" Miss Patty asked.

"You said you wanted a live musician," Drella told her.

Lorelai kept walking.

"What are you smiling about?" Luke demanded, falling into step with her.

"What are you doing out here?" Lorelai demanded.

"The same thing you are. Taking a break," Luke told her.

"You saw me and ran right out here to gloat, didn't you?" Lorelai demanded. Luke looked confused. "You haven't heard? I thought news traveled faster than that around here."

"About the inn? I heard," Luke told her. "You doing okay?"

Lorelai nodded.

"Looks like my chicken soup fixed you right up," he observed. "Back for a refill?"

"Coffee?" Lorelai asked hopefully. "I need it," Lorelai begged as they went into the diner.

"Here. Poison yourself." He put the coffee pot on the counter in front of her.

"Is it hard?" Lorelai asked. "Being a business owner, I mean?"

"I manage," Luke told her.

"Sometimes I wonder if I could do it. Make it all work."

"You could," Luke told her.

"You sound so sure," Lorelai said, surprised.

"I am," Luke told her. He left for a moment and she consulted her coffee cup. "Here. More soup," he said when he returned. "Now get out a here."

"Thanks Luke," Lorelai said.

_ _ _

"And this concludes our tour," the guide said, having lead the group in a large circle around the campus. The limo was still waiting patiently for them, the driver leaned back with his cap over his face. "Any questions?"

A flurry of hands went up, but since Lane wasn't a prospective Harvard student accompanied by her mother or father, she didn't feel the need. "Can I get your phone number?" she asked.

The tour guide smiled. "Give me a minute, folks," he said, and moved away with Lane, who handed him a pen and watched as he wrote his number on her hand.

"She's smooth," Dean commented.

"She's..." Rory began, but didn't know what words to use to describe Lane. "Yep. Smooth," she finished.

"What about you? See anyone you like?" Dean's eyes were dark. Rory nodded. His eyebrows went up. She smiled tentatively as she looked directly at him. He pointed at himself: Me? She nodded. And he smiled, and she knew it was gonna be okay.

"I think I'm in love," Lane declared with a sigh as she rejoined them. "Did you see his hair?"

"Very nice," Rory concurred.

"Can I sleep on your floor when you come here?" Lane asked. "Please?"

"We'll see," Rory said as they walked back to the limo.

"I trust you had a nice time, Miss Rory?" the limo driver asked as he held the door open for the three of them to climb inside.

"Yeah. Thanks," Rory said, not used to being waited on, as he closed the door.

"Miss Rory," Dean said.

"I didn't tell him to say that," Rory said.

"I know," Dean said as they settled in.

_ _ _

Lorelai returned to the inn. "He is in the dining room," Michel reported.

"And?" asked Lorelai.

Michel shrugged.

"Maybe it's for the best," Lorelai said philosophically. "Sookie and I have been talking about starting our own place for years. Maybe we've been procrastinating, waiting for something like this to come along to make us act on the impulse. And you're not happy here."

"I am happy," Michel declared. "Happy like a little clam washing up on the beach."

Lorelai frowned at him. "You are really bizarre sometimes, did you know that?"

"Thank you," he smiled.

"No, I mean it, you really disturb me."

"You are cheering me up," Michel told her.

The doors from the dining room opened and Webster appeared. "Ms. Gilmore. I would like to have a word with you."

Lorelai nodded. "In my office?" she suggested. He nodded solemnly and they went into the small, very small, broom closet like space that served as her office.

"Ms. Gilmore," he said.

"Mr. Webster," she replied.

"I feel I have the need to apologize to you," he said. "I may have acted hastily earlier today."

"This would be about firing the entire staff?" Lorelai asked, and Webster nodded. "Harder than you thought to find new staff in Stars Hollow, huh?"

"Yes," he replied frankly. "But I realized something today. This inn brings me comfort. It brought me comfort when I stayed here after my divorce so long ago. And then today, with the comfortable room and the food and the personalized service, I once again felt comforted."

"We aim to please," Lorelai said, although she really didn't want to push her luck.

"Do you know how many days per year I travel, Ms. Gilmore?" he asked. She looked at him cluelessly. "About three hundred and thirty. And do you know how many hotel managers remember my name?" Again, she shook her head. "Perhaps three. They certainly wouldn't remember that I have a fondness for antique carnival glass or that I'm allergic to goosedown bedding or that I like to have my shoes shined in the morning rather than in the evening. Do you know what I'm telling you, Ms. Gilmore?"

"That other hotels suck?" she ventured.

Webster frowned and Lorelai could have kicked herself. But then his face changed. "Yes, although I would have used different words. There's something special about this inn. And I think that special thing is you. I'm not going to close Independence Inn, or sell it. I want it to be here. When I need it to be."

"That's very..." Lorelai said, trying to find the words. "Thank you." He held out her hand and he squeezed it briefly, businesslike.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need a second helping of chocolate mousse," Webster said.

Lorelai emerged from her office a few moments later, feeling dazed. "What happened?" Michel hissed.

"We aren't fired," she told him.

"We aren't?"

"Nope. Everything's fine," she said. "And I'm going home."

"Yippee!" Michel cried and if he'd had a hat he would have thrown it into the air. "We are not fired! Hooray!"

"You're scaring me," Lorelai declared. "You get back to normal by tomorrow." She shook her finger at him as she headed out of the inn.

The driver was just dropping Rory off. "Thanks, Bill!" she said as she got out of the car, slamming the door.

"Bill?" Lorelai asked as the car drove away. "I always thought he seemed more like a Frank."

"We made friends," Rory said.

"How are Lane and Dean?" Lorelai asked.

Rory nodded. "I think Lane wants to go to Harvard now."

"They had cute boys there?"

"Lots of them," Rory confirmed. "You seem better."

"It was such a busy day I didn't have time to stay sick," Lorelai told her daughter. "What do you say we pick up some ice cream on the way home and you can tell me all about it, because you know I am dying to hear every single detail of every single thing that happened today and all the things you saw and everything you thought..."

"Okay, Mom, slow down," Rory said.

"You didn't like Harvard?"

"I didn't say that."

"What did you say?" Lorelai demanded.

"It's just a long time until college. A million things could happen before then," Rory said.

"A million things like Dean?" Lorelai demanded.

"And it's really far from here, Mom," Rory said. "I think I'd miss it here."

"You can come home on weekends."

"I'd miss you," Rory told her.

"Aw," Lorelai said. "Well, you never know. Maybe Sookie and I will open our own place. And it'll just happen to be close to Harvard." Rory raised her eyebrows. "What, it could happen," Lorelai said. "It's not outside the realm of extreme possibility."

"I'm just thinking it might be good to check out some other schools before I make my final decision," Rory said.

"How did you get to be so wise?" Lorelai demanded.

"I didn't get it from you," Rory teased.

"That's for sure," Lorelai agreed. "Okay, ice cream. But then I want details. You're not going to leave anything out, do you hear me?"

Rory nodded, smiling. It had been a good day. A very good day. She'd learned a lot. Not just about Harvard, either.

END.