fearlessfan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fearlessfan) wrote2007-07-19 01:55 am
fearlessfan) wrote2007-07-19 01:55 am
Entry tags:
FIClet: Piece by Piece (Gilmore Girls, Lorelai)
Title: Piece by Piece
Fandom: Gilmore Girls, Lorelai
Spoilers: None beyond the general premise of the show.
Rating: PG
Summary: Lorelai picks up fragments of a future and hands them to her daughter piece by piece.
Length: 493 words.
Piece by Piece
Lorelai picks up fragments of a future and hands them to her daughter piece by piece. She finds the best parts of herself and passes them along, sometimes without even trying; her daughter’s eyes stay the same clear blue they were the day she was born, Lorelai’s own favorite feature having found its way and taken hold in Rory’s face.
Other things require more effort. She buys her daughter a Harvard sweatshirt with tips found under ashtrays when other kids her age are buying ones for themselves with money their parents earned. Lorelai picks up the smallest one the store carries, holds it against her daughter’s sleeping still frame in the stroller beside her and finds it still too big by half, and decides that Rory will grow into it. She pays the slouched-over clerk, who stares at her curiously, with crumpled up small bills pulled out of the pocket of her jeans, jeans that are finally feeling comfortable again, only a tiny bit of her stomach spilling over the top.
Lorelai buys tiny pink sneakers instead of shiny patent leather shoes, and laughs when her daughter pulls her sundress over her head while playing in their favorite secret secluded place on the inn’s estate, exposing her pale belly and hastily fastened diapers for all the world to see. She watches her daughter walk, run, explore, and almost never tells Rory to stay where she can see her; Lorelai just follows along behind her, a few steps back, watching her go.
Lorelai knows her daughter will be brilliant, since she's already the greatest kid in the world. She tells Rory this often. Rory loves the sound of her mother’s voice, and it’s sometimes the only way she can get her daughter to fall asleep. She never sings, only talks, sometimes sharing her insights on life, sometimes telling stories not about princesses and farm creatures but about mean old businessmen who grab at sassy young hotel maids and then forget to leave a tip after their three-week stays.
Lorelai knows her daughter will be brilliant, but still she decides to help it along. She pilfers books from the lost and found box under the hotel desk, borrows some books so many times from the library that eventually the librarian tells her not to bring them back, that they’ve got new editions and were going to throw the old ones away anyway. Lorelai thinks maybe the woman’s lying but doesn’t challenge it, just smiles and thanks her.
It feels a little bit awkward. She's still getting used to being on the receiving end of charity. Getting used to a lot of things, really; cleaning up other people's messes, counting change, making dinner. It's worth it, though, for the girl sitting on her hip. Lorelai shifts her arm a bit and Rory settles in against her, reaches her little hand up to rest on Lorelai's shoulder. It's worth it all for that.
.end.
Fandom: Gilmore Girls, Lorelai
Spoilers: None beyond the general premise of the show.
Rating: PG
Summary: Lorelai picks up fragments of a future and hands them to her daughter piece by piece.
Length: 493 words.
Piece by Piece
Lorelai picks up fragments of a future and hands them to her daughter piece by piece. She finds the best parts of herself and passes them along, sometimes without even trying; her daughter’s eyes stay the same clear blue they were the day she was born, Lorelai’s own favorite feature having found its way and taken hold in Rory’s face.
Other things require more effort. She buys her daughter a Harvard sweatshirt with tips found under ashtrays when other kids her age are buying ones for themselves with money their parents earned. Lorelai picks up the smallest one the store carries, holds it against her daughter’s sleeping still frame in the stroller beside her and finds it still too big by half, and decides that Rory will grow into it. She pays the slouched-over clerk, who stares at her curiously, with crumpled up small bills pulled out of the pocket of her jeans, jeans that are finally feeling comfortable again, only a tiny bit of her stomach spilling over the top.
Lorelai buys tiny pink sneakers instead of shiny patent leather shoes, and laughs when her daughter pulls her sundress over her head while playing in their favorite secret secluded place on the inn’s estate, exposing her pale belly and hastily fastened diapers for all the world to see. She watches her daughter walk, run, explore, and almost never tells Rory to stay where she can see her; Lorelai just follows along behind her, a few steps back, watching her go.
Lorelai knows her daughter will be brilliant, since she's already the greatest kid in the world. She tells Rory this often. Rory loves the sound of her mother’s voice, and it’s sometimes the only way she can get her daughter to fall asleep. She never sings, only talks, sometimes sharing her insights on life, sometimes telling stories not about princesses and farm creatures but about mean old businessmen who grab at sassy young hotel maids and then forget to leave a tip after their three-week stays.
Lorelai knows her daughter will be brilliant, but still she decides to help it along. She pilfers books from the lost and found box under the hotel desk, borrows some books so many times from the library that eventually the librarian tells her not to bring them back, that they’ve got new editions and were going to throw the old ones away anyway. Lorelai thinks maybe the woman’s lying but doesn’t challenge it, just smiles and thanks her.
It feels a little bit awkward. She's still getting used to being on the receiving end of charity. Getting used to a lot of things, really; cleaning up other people's messes, counting change, making dinner. It's worth it, though, for the girl sitting on her hip. Lorelai shifts her arm a bit and Rory settles in against her, reaches her little hand up to rest on Lorelai's shoulder. It's worth it all for that.
.end.
no subject
Love the image of the two of them in the grass with Rory's pink shoes and diapers, Lorelai getting used to charity and hard work, how much of a kid she still is herself.
her daughter’s eyes stay the same clear blue they were the day she was born
I love how you give this fic such a great tone that this -- that she'd have a *daughter*, that her eyes are be blue seems so astonishing and perfect.
I LOVE GILMORE GIRLS AND THIS. PLS WRITE MORE. THE END.
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Thank you so much for the comment! You are awesome!
P.S. That icon is fantastic!
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I'm absolutely enchanted at how vivid a picture you paint with just this short piece and these precious tiny images. Thank you for posting it!
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How did I never read this?
How did I miss this? It is full of fabulousness. LOVE IT!
Re: How did I never read this?
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