[fic] swing low; gilmore girls; rory, lorelai

[delacourtings]

swing low. gilmore girls. rory, lorelai. pg-13. 653.
momma likes 'em hung. young! i meant young!
for card_writing.

"Rory! I need you. Come on! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake uuup. If you don't wake up I'm going to start singing that song from The Wiggles, fair warning. So, you should probably ---"

"Mom?" Rory asked groggily, blinking away the blurriness of her vision and watching the blinking red 4:57 on the alarm clock come clearly into view. "What are you doing, it's 5 A.M.?"

"Uh, yeah, of course it's me. Who else would be calling you at five in the morning?"

"Ugh," Rory rolled over, inching her way back under the covers and nuzzling her face against the nice, warm pillow. "What do you want?"

"Luke dyed his hair."

"Luke what?"

"Yeah. Well, technically, Liz dyed his hair but. Anyway."

"Oh my god." Rory said, giving up the possibility of any more sleep and putting herself in an upright position.

"I. Know. And? It's black."

"Black?" Rory parroted. She stepped out of bed and into her slippers, shuffling her way into the kitchen.

"Uh huh."

 "What kind of black? Like Angie in Salt black or Kim K black? How black are we talking here?" Rory rifled through the cabinets, searching for a much coveted bag of Eight O'Clock.

"Like Tom Selleck in Bluebloods black."

"Oh!" Rory exclaimed, finding the bag at the back of the cabinet, sandwiched between a bag of plastic straws and a...pizza roller? Huh. "That's not so bad."

"But without all the salt and pepper flakes to make it seem more sophisticated and attractive!"

"Oh no." Rory said without feeling, pressing the oh so familiar ON button on the coffeemaker.

"Oh yes."

"Are there pictures?" She asked through a yawn. "Send me pictures."

"Oh, yeah, there's pictures, all right. I have to hang up though. This thing still won't let me call and text at the same time."

"How," Rory hopped up on the counter, "many times have I told you to get a new phone? What happens when this one eventually stops working altogether, huh? And you're stuck on the side of the road somewhere and have to hitchhike a ride home except the truck driver who gives you a ride turns out to be a serial killer straight from Criminal Minds and where does that leave Luke, hmmm? Not to mention Paul Anka."

"Please, Paul Anka would be fine. Luke knows how to take care of him by now. At least he should."

"Paul Anka would drive Luke crazy and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You are right and I am wrong, as always, blah, blah, blah."

Rory smiled smugly at the phone. "Thank you. Now, hang up your sorry excuse for a communication device and go send me that picture, missy!"

"Yes, Mom."

Ding, Rory heard a few minutes later. She opened her eyes from where she had been resting (not sleeping!) against the edge of the refridgerador.


Mom
(1) Image Attached

             Oh my god!

Mom
RIGHT

            It's...it's like...

Mom
Pete Wentz? I KNOW

           It almost makes him look...?

Mom
older right?? that's what i said! i feel like a gold digger, rory. I DO NOT WANT TO FEEL LIKE A GOLD DIGGER

          I'm...sorry?

Mom
ughhh why couldn't Liz have done something to make him look younger i would much rather feel like a cougar than a gold digger


        Really?

Mom
uh...YEAH cougars are hot and lounge around by the pool drinking martinis and staring at the pool boy gold diggers have to wait for the viagra to kick in before they even touch their boy toys' wrinkly old man parts


       Oh, gross.

Mom
WELL IT'S TRUE

      Now that I think about it, you have always had a thing for younger guys.

Mom
SEE???

      Momma likes 'em hung.

Mom
LORELAI GILMORE

I AM APPALLED

    Young! I meant young!

Mom
uh huh suuure you did

      I hate you. I'm going back to bed.

Mom
may visions of well hung young men dance in your head

  YOU'RE THE WORST.