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Last Call by Jersey
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Summary:This is a fic based around the song "Last Call" by Lee Ann Womack. It's hard to summarize without giving away too much. The best summary is late night phone calls from the bar.
Category:One Shots, Alternate Reality
Rating:K+
Warnings:Rory/Other
Disclaimer: All stories, original characters and plots archived herein are property of their respective owners and authors. Gilmore Girls and it's characters are property of Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions and Hofflund/Polone in association with Warner Bros. Television. No copyright infringement intended.

I recognized your number,

It's burned into my brain,

Felt my heart beating faster,

Every time it rang.

Some things never change,

That's why I didn't answer.

She entered her apartment, soaked to the bone from the rain outside. It was only 10ft from her car to the front door of her building. She had a long day at work, she was junior editor of the current events section for the second largest paper in the country. She had gotten a job there right out of college and had worked her way from the bottom up. Her drive for success had been a lot of pressure on her life, it was partly the reason her relationship had ended. They had been on and off throughout college. When she graduated, the relationship had started to decline. Stolen moments here and there, e-mails, text messages and late night phone calls. They had a fight, not their first and they ended it. It wasn’t the first time they ended it. They always seemed to come back to those late night phone calls.

Every time they ended it, within a week, he was at the bar and making those late night phone calls to her. He drank a lot, which was quite a change from the beginning of their relationship. His drinking was a big part of their break up this last time. They had broken up months ago, she had moved on. She had promised herself that she was finished with him but for a while, she had still answered those phone calls. Knowing she shouldn’t but knowing deep inside, she would continue until something else came along. That something else came along a few weeks ago.

When she entered her apartment, she hung her coat up, threw her bag down and kicked off her shoes. She heard her phone ring and looked at the clock, 1:30am.

I bet you're in a bar,

Listening to a country song.

Glass of Johnny Walker Red,

With no one to take you home.

They're probably closing down,

Saying, "No more alcohol."

I bet you're in a bar

'Cause I'm always your last call.

He sat at the bar, phone in one hand and drink in the other. He knew he had screwed up the relationship. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he let it slip away. She was so successful and beautiful and so much more than he deserved. He knew he wasn’t good enough for her, so he pushed her away. While she spent day and night working at the paper, he spent day and night at the bar.

At the bar, he remembered the moments that they were happy. They were few and far between is what she said. He didn’t believe that. He believed they were meant to be together. Why else would she always come back? She loved him. They were going to get married and start a family. They were going to get their happy ever after.

He hadn’t called her in a few months. She had told him to stop calling, he knew she needed space, so he had given her space. He motioned for the bartender to get him another drink. The bartender shook his head and pointed to the clock over the bar, 1:30am, last call.

I don't need to check that message.

I know what it says.

"Baby, I still love you,"

Don't mean nothing when there's whiskey on your breath.

That's the only love I get.

So if you're calling...

She heard her phone beep, indicating a message had been left. She clicked the silence button on the phone. She knew the drill. “I love you. I miss you. I made a mistake. We’re meant to be together.” It was the same story every time he called. She thought he was over the phone calls. The last time he had called, she told him not to call her again. That was a few months ago. She had moved on.

In her time away from him, she had rediscovered the attraction she had to a guy from college. They had gone out a few times, but never anything serious. Never when she was in a relationship. They had formed a friendship and had remained friends after graduation. He didn’t like her boyfriend. He knew she deserved better. When she had shown up at his apartment after her last fight with her boyfriend, he admitted to her that he still had feelings for her and it tore him apart to see her treated badly. They started spending more and more time together and slowly had begun to develop a relationship. It was still new but it was exciting. She didn’t remember ever feeling this way with her ex.

I bet you're in a bar

Listening to a cheatin' song

Glass of Johnny Walker Red

With no one to take you home

They're probably closing down

Saying, "No more alcohol"

I bet you're in bar,

'Cause I'm always your last-

He tried calling her again. The alcohol never numbed the pain of her not answering her phone. He needed somewhere to go. He wanted to go home to her. He needed her. He had made a mistake. She wasn’t supposed to show up at the bar that night. She wasn’t supposed to find him kissing another girl. She certainly wasn’t supposed to find him in bed with a different girl three days later.

She worked late. She worked long hours. He had needs, desires. He would wait for hours and she would finally come home, too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep. He stopped going to her apartment to wait for her and stayed home. They had keys to each other’s apartments. He forgot that. He had gone out with some guys from work. The waitress was pretty, they flirted and she went home with him. He never expected his girlfriend to come home early to surprise him. She didn’t do things like that, she planned. She didn’t plan on finding her boyfriend in bed with someone else. He blamed her long hours. She blamed their need to hold on to something that was no longer there and the alcohol. They fought and it was their last fight.

He listened to her voice mail pick up, he didn’t leave a message this time. He simply hung up.

Call me crazy but

I think maybe

We've had our last call.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk, feeling the rain hit him and stood there. He was alone. No one to go home to and he felt empty inside.

She entered her living room, having taken a shower to warm up. She curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee and simply stared at the rain coming down outside.

I bet you're in a bar.

It's always the same old song.

That Johnny Walker Red,

By now it's almost gone.

But baby, I won't be there

To catch you when you fall.

I bet you're in bar

'Cause I'm always your last call

She heard a knock on her door, slowly she got up and answered the door to the most beautiful sight, a blonde man with deep brown eyes holding flowers. He always showed up when she needed someone. He was much better for her and he knew all about her ex. He had seen it first hand.

The look on her face said all he needed to know. She was drained and appeared stressed out. He had talked to her when she was leaving work, she had called to say she wouldn’t make it over because it was late and she was tired, so he made the decision to go to her. He wanted to see her, to hold her, to take away her worries.

He pulled her into his arms on the couch. They sat there, in silence, her phone sitting on the coffee table. Neither saying a word, but somehow conveying their emotions and their thoughts to each other. He saw her phone blinking that she had messages, he knew there was only one person who she wouldn’t answer the phone for, her ex. If she wasn’t answering it, that meant she was finally done. She had begun to move on, and it was with him.

He kissed her head. “I’m here for you Rory.”

”I know Logan, I know.”

Her phone started ringing again, he picked it up and looked at the caller id. Dean. He quickly turned the phone off and pulled her close. They sat in silence with no sound but the rain outside.

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