Chapter Text
The sheets were warm with sleep and summer light, the curtains swaying with their soft rhythm of breaths. Paris had an arm slung over Rory’s waist, Rory’s face snuggled into her collarbone. Rory was sound asleep, her hair splayed across the quilt and creases pressed into her cheek. Paris traced lazy circles on her hip, breathing out a deep sigh of relief and peace.
And then a ball of fur tackled Paris in the face.
She groaned. “Hi, Paul Anka.”
Paul Anka woofed.
“Mm?” Paul Anka trotted over and licked Rory’s face. “Mornin’ puppy.” She sleepily patted his back as she turned her head to Paris, eyes still firmly shut. “Time s’ it?”
Paris yawned. “Six.”
“Mm.” Rory didn’t so much as flinch as the puppy licked her eyebrow. “Gotta get up.”
“Why?” Paris was warm and comfortable. Why did Rory have to leave?
“Work.” Paul Anka nuzzled Rory’s cheek, as if urging her to get up as well. “You, too.”
“Ugh.” Paris scrubbed at her eyes. “Fine. Just 'cuz I love you.”
"How embarrassing for you."
"Shut it, Gilmore."
Paul Anka trotted across the rumpled quilt as they clambered out of bed, his little woof-woof-woofs as happy as can be. At least one of them was a morning person.
Rory threw on a shirt (one that Paris was pretty sure was hers, dammit) and shuffled to the bathroom. Paris picked through their shared closet, trying to put together a semi-decent outfit. Paul Anka was content to dance around her feet while she flipped through the clothes.
"I can't believe I forgot laundry day," Paris muttered. Paul Anka rubbed his face against her bare calf. "And now Rory took my last clean shirt. Can you believe it? We live in a house of heathens."
Paul Anka just licked her toes.
"Good morning!" Rory skipped into the room with sparkling eyes, hair still damp from her shower. She crouched down and scratched Paul Anka's ears with a grin. "You ready to have a great day, Paul Anka? Huh? Huh? Who's ready to have a good day?"
Paris rolled her eyes as Paul Anka barked in glee. "It's too early for your optimistic attitude. Especially since I can't find an outfit!"
"Well, you're only half awake, so that's probably not helping," Rory helpfully pointed out. She stood and kissed her cheek. "Go take a shower, you stink. I'll find you an outfit."
"One that is actually acceptable and not a horrible revival of bygone fashion eras?"
"Does that sound like something I'd do?"
"Yes."
"Okay, fine, I won't! Just go shower." Rory dragged a sweater over Paris' head and shoved her towards the door. "Love you!"
Paul Anka barked at her retreating form and Paris couldn't help the small smile on her lips.
She wished she could stay in bed, but... this was pretty great, too.
***
After her shower, Paris entered the room to see an outfit laid out and ready for her (one that was halfway decent, thank goodness). She slipped on the clothes and then entered into the kitchen, where Lorelai was already stationed at the coffee machine like a battle ready soldier.
“I’m just saying, some more lights might be pretty!”
“And risk you breaking your back?”
“Obviously I wouldn’t do it. Luke would.”
“See, but I don’t think the roof could hold Luke’s weight.” Rory lit up with a grin as Paris shuffled into the room. “Hey, that looks great on you!”
“You picked it out,” Paris drawled as she beelined for the pop-tarts.
“We Gilmores have good taste.” Lorelai winked as she snatched a pop tart from the box. Her box. What a heinous crime, stealing her pop-tarts this early in the morning. Paris glared as she grabbed her own pop-tarts, then the last one in the box as Rory eyed it just a little too closely. “I mean, come on Rory, what else is dating a big strong man for other than having him put up your Christmas lights?”
“To be a loving partner in life, I would hope.”
“Pssh, that’s like number five on the list.” Lorelai plugged their second toaster into the wall as they slid the pop tarts in. “Coffee, sweetheart?”
“Please.” Paris was instantly rewarded with a warm mug in her hand, and the pop-tart crimes were temporarily forgiven. “Also, you both do realize it’s summer, right? As in, Christmas is still half a year away?”
“Oh, we know!” Lorelai chirped. “I’m just thinking ahead.”
“And isn’t that a first,” Rory muttered. She shrieked as Lorelai threw a spoon at her. “Mom!”
“Go, Paul Anka! Get her! Defend my honor!” Lorelai pointed an accustatory finger at Rory as Paul Anka tilted his head in confusion.
"Woof?" He licked Lorelai’s flats. "Woof."
Lorelai sighed. “Traitor.”
The toasters dinged! Paris scooped up the pop-tarts and brought them to the table, keeping hers far out of Rory's reach. Her girlfriend still managed to nab one with an evil grin and scarfed it down before Paris could react.
Whatever. Her instincts were just a little fuzzy from sleep. She'd get Rory back for it later. But, for now, she let the coffee nudge her brain awake as it entered her system.
And with it, a slight tingling in the back of her head.
“I feel like we’re forgetting something,” Paris murmured.
Rory knocked their knees together. “I know you’re worried about work today, Paris–”
“I’m not–”
“But it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna do great.” Rory smiled at Paris with that damn hopeful smile, the one that melted her insides into chocolate-chip cookie goo, (the one that almost made Paris believe in herself as much as Roryd did) and immediately folded like a tower of playing cards.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Rory. But..." Paris squinted at her mug. "I still feel like we’ve forgotten something important.”
“Us? As if!” Lorelai grinned. “We’ve got minds of steel traps!”
Paul Anka jumped a foot in the air as there was a crash upstairs and a string of colorful swears.
“Steel traps that forgot to wake Luke up for work?”
“I didn’t forget,” Lorelai huffed. “He just looked so peaceful.”
One of the ceiling lights flickered as Luke's frantic footsteps slammed against the floor upstairs.
“Oh, yeah,” Rory agreed. “Peaceful indeed.”
***
Lorelai collapsed onto the couch, her head tipping back over the armrest with a groan.
"You dying over there?"
"Just a little bit." Lorelai kicked off her shoes. "Ugh, my feet hurt so much. Who knew booking a wedding and a birthday party at the same time and at the same venue was a bad idea?"
"I knew that," Luke grumbled as he rummaged around the kitchen. "I could have told you that. I did tell you that. But did you listen?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get to making me a delicious meal, hubby, I'm hungry!"
A CRASH! and a swear later, Luke hobbled into the hall between the kitchen and living room with a bright red face. "I-what did you say?"
"I said honey, make me dinner, pretty please," Lorelai chirped.
"That is not what you said," Luke muttered.
"Do I smell something burning?"
Luke swore and ducked back into the kitchen, his ears still red as beets. Lorelai chuckled.
"Oh, Luke," she mumbled. "Never change."
Paul Anka bounded past a fumbling Luke and into Lorelai's lap with an excited bark.
"What's up, boy?" She ruffled his hair. "You see something really cool?"
He pranced on her cardigan with another bark.
"Don't give me that, mister," Lorelai scolded. "I didn't mean it like that."
At least, not yet.
She scratched Paul Anka's head as she listened Luke contain the small fire that had started in the kitchen. He wasn't her husband... yet.
Maybe one day.
RING-RING-RING!
“I got it!” She called, shoveling her way through Paris’ pile of books to find their buried phone. “Hello?”
“Lorelai, where have you been?”
Ugh. Great. It'd already been a long, exhausting, hard day, and now she had to deal with her mother? The universe must hate her or something.
Still, she knew better than to hang up. However, that didn't mean she had to answer her nicely.
“Uh, at work?”
Emily Gilmore full on scoffed. Like some high class, snobby rich - oh, wait, that was her mother. How could she forget?
“No, I mean on Friday!" Emily exclaimed. "Where have you been?”
“Again: work?”
Lorelai could practically feel the disgusted twist to her mother's mouth, sharp and disappointed and way too familiar.
"Do you not remember our deal?" Emily snapped. "We would pay for Rory’s schooling if both of you came to Friday dinners every week! And you, young lady, have missed the last two weeks! And so has Rory! What, is dignity dead now? Or are you dead? What is going on?”
Oh.
Oh no.
No!
Horror slashed through her ribs like a tidal wave, because Paris had been right. They had forgotten something.
Arguably, the very worst thing they could have ever forgotten.
The very vital thing that was about to turn their lives upside down.
Is it too late to fake my death? Lorelai wondered as she sucked in a steadying breath. "Mom, listen, no one's dead, okay? We're all fine. It's just been a crazy couple of weeks."
“And what kind of excuse is that? You could have at least called to let me know you weren't attending! Honestly, the amount of food wasted, waiting for guests that would never come...”
Paul Anka butted his head into Lorelai's hip, demanding attention. She scratched his head as she did her best not to scream. “I’m sorry, Mom, I really am. Neither of us meant to ghost you! But I’m not kidding, though, we’ve been dealing with some big life changes."
“Oh, like what? What could possibly be more important than your grandparents?”
I don’t know, Rory getting kicked out of her apartment and leaving Yale? Her daughter learning how to be an adult for the first time? The major relationships they had both just begun, which were wonderful but still very fragile?
“A lot.” Lorelai sighed at her mother's offended squawk. “Listen, Mom, I just got home from work, and everything hurts, so can you please just… yell at me tomorrow, okay?”
“Oh, you bet I will! You had better be here, young lady, along with Rory!”
“What–" Panic crashed over Lorelai. "Oh, Mom–”
“It’s Friday tomorrow, so I expect you on my doorstep at seven sharp! No excuses! You've already missed too many dinners, and I will not accept another missed event!”
“Mom, please, we can’t. I really mean it, okay? This isn't me just trying to get out of it. Rory just started a new job–”
“Why on Earth does she need a new job? What’s wrong with the Yale newspaper?”
“It’s complicated, but we have a lot going on, so please just–”
“Lorelai! Dinner’s ready!” Luke called.
Lorelai froze.
No. Please, no.
Not Luke. No one deserved to be thrown to the wolves that was her mother, especially Luke.
Emily could not find out they were dating.
But if she just did...
No, no, think positive! Maybe she hadn't heard him?
"Lorelai!" Emily full on, pearl-clutching, movie-dramatically gasped. “Do you have a boy over? Is that why you haven't been coming to dinner? You’ve been gallivanting around with some man?”
Aw, shit.
“No, Mom, it's not–”
“Oh, is everyone just going around now, then, is that it? Does Rory have someone, too, and that's why she's been absent, hm?”
No, no, no. Lorelai was one thing, Luke was another, but Rory? And Paris?
Absolutely not.
“Mom, that’s really not important right now-"
“She does, doesn’t she?” Emily groaned. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to bring them so we can meet the men who have captured your attention. Maybe we’ll start planning weddings, who knows. I sure don’t, since you’re so insistent on hiding things from me!”
“Mom–”
“7 o’clock sharp, Lorelai. I will not tolerate another night missed.”
Beep.
Emily hung up.
Lorelai dropped the phone to the table.
“Lorelai?" Luke poked his head into the room, eyes pinched with worry. "Is everything okay?”
She buried her hands in her face. “We’re so screwed.”
***
Rory froze as soon as she stepped through the door.
Paris nearly ran into her with a quiet yelp. "Rory, what are you doing?" She frowned at her girlfriend's pinched expression. "What’s wrong?”
“Grandma’s mad at us.” Rory narrowed in concentration. "Really mad at us."
“Where on Earth did that even come from? And how do you know that?”
“I can tell. Can you smell that? It's the distinct scent of disappointment and bitter regret.” Rory frowned as they kicked their shoes off. “Mom? Where are you? What did we do now?”
“We forgot!” Lorelai screeched as she hurried into the room, looking absolutely frazzled. “I can’t believe we forgot!”
“Mom, forgot what?”
“Friday night dinners!”
“Oh, shit.” Rory clapped a hand against her forehead. “I knew we forgot something! Mom, how could we forget? It’s been a part of our schedule for years!”
“Well, when both of our lives get totally upended, I think schedules were the last thing we were thinking of.” Lorelai fell dramatically onto the couch, Paul Anka happily clambering onto her stomach. “Rory, we’re in so much trouble.”
“Like how much? Like we need to move out of the country?”
“Like we need to fly to another planet.”
“Oh noooo.” Rory dropped to the ground with a groan. “We’re so fucked.”
Paris raised an eyebrow at the despairing mother-daughter pair. “Aren’t you taking this a little too seriously? Your grandparents seem pretty nice."
Both of the Gilmores swiveled around to stare at her like she’d just said the grass turned into a neon red and purple carpet pattern.
“You haven’t seen them mad,” Rory whispered.
“And you haven’t had to deal with them furious,” Lorelai added. “But guess what? Now you get to!”
“What?" Rory shot upright. "Mom, we can’t bring Paris into this!”
“Well, then you’re gonna need to find another date real fast, because somehow my mother figured out we’re both dating someone and is requiring them to come.”
“No,” Rory gasped, aghast.
“Yes,” Lorelai moaned.
“But Mom, they’ll eat them alive!”
Lorelai pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know, but what other choice do we have? She’ll know if we’re lying. She always does!”
“Hey, I’m still here! Didn't leave." Paris crossed her arms with a huff. “You can stop talking about me like that. Besides, I think I can handle myself.”
“Oh, no, they’re right, we’re going to die if we go to that dinner,” Luke drawled as he entered the room with mugs of hot cocoa. He passed them around like they were priceless margaritas before sitting heavily on the couch. “But we’re also dead if we don’t go, so.”
“How does that make any sense?” Paris asked, utterly baffled.
“That’s just how it goes with my parents,” Lorelai sighed, sitting up to make room for Paris to sit down. Paul Anka squeaked in protest as his jungle gym moved so suddenly, but easily adjusted to his tumble into Rory’s lap, begging for gentle scratches. “Listen, Paris, you don’t have to go. We can make up some bullshit excuse.” As Luke opened his mouth, Lorelai pointed at him. “You, however, have to go. No ifs, what’s, or but’s about it.”
Luke bowed his head in defeat.
Paris rolled her eyes. “I think you’re all overreacting. I’ve worked with your Grandpa before, Rory, he seems like a logical man.”
“Oh, he is," Rory agreed. "And the minute you step out of the business world, he uses that logic like a knife." Her expression slipped into sharp-edged panic. "And, shit, I can’t even imagine what they’d say if they find out that–” Her breath stuttered and her knuckles went white as she grabbed Lorelai’s hands. “Mom, if they learn that I’m bi–”
“Hey, babe, calm down. You don’t have to tell them a single thing you don’t want to,” Lorelai soothed, sounding way more sure than she looked. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t even think of that, but you’re right. We can't let them find that out about you, not until you're ready to tell them. We’ll find you, I don’t know, the most unattractive and repellant boy we can to ward your grandparents off long enough to fly under the radar. Then you say you broke up with him and we avoid the crisis. Problem solved.” Luke opened his mouth and Lorelai shook her head. “No chance, Luke, they know me too well for me to lie about my love life. Plus, if I’m going to die, you’re going to go down with me.”
“Of course,” Luke sighed as Paul Anka rolled across his lap.
“Wait, hold up." Paris raised her hands. "So I’m not going?”
“I think that might be the best option.” Lorelai winced. “My mother’s a walking lie detector, so this will be hard, but... maybe we can pull it off.”
“Worst comes to worse, we take the verbal beatdown and leave with a little more trauma than before." Rory turned to Paris, her vibrant blue eyes soft as wispy morning clouds when she met her gaze. "The last thing I want is for you to get caught up in all this. You don’t deserve it.”
“But what about you?” Paris gestured at them. "And Lorelai? And Luke? What about all of you?"
They shared a glance. A loaded, heavy, painful one.
It about shredded Paris' patience into pieces.
“We'll be fine," Lorelai finally murmured. "We always are, in the end."
It sounded more like a hope, a prayer, a wish than a reassurance. It sounded like a plea.
"Lorelai..."
"It'll be okay, Paris." Rory squeezed her hand. "We'll… I’ll figure something out.”
And that snapped Paris out of it.
Her girlfriend doing this on her own?
Fuck no.
They did things together, dammit: the good, the bad, and the ugly family dinners. They survived Yale, they could surely survive this.
It was just one dinner.
How badly could it go?
“I’m coming."
The room silenced.
“What?” Lorelai, Luke, and Rory shouted.
“I’m coming,” Paris repeated. “I think you’re all overreacting, but if they really are going to be that bad, then no way in hell am I letting Rory walk into that alone. Any of you, actually.”
“Paris, honey, that’s sweet, but you have no idea what’s about to go down here.” Lorelai scrubbed a hand down her pinched expression. “And Rory’s right, we have no idea how my mom’s going to react to the whole… gay vibes. She’s never been outright mean to anyone I know of, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be pleasant, either. Especially since Rory is her perfect little granddaughter.”
“I don’t care. I’m coming.” Paris glanced at Rory, who had gone stone-still at her declaration. “At least... if you want me to come?”
Rory just about melted under Paris’ concerned gaze.
Paris smirked.
Now who was the ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies?
“I think,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t mind that at all."
Paul Anka woofed as Rory and Paris hugged, and maybe she was going crazy, but it almost sounded like good luck!
Ugh.
She should have just stayed in bed this morning.