Rory was, unshockingly, a huge -- huge -- fan of Squee. Brightly-wardrobed singing highschoolers, and an adorably curly-haired teacher instructing him? Yeah, sign her up.

So, tonight she was curled up on the couch under a blankie, a bowl of popcorn beside her, while she focused on the hot young mohawked teen. Her husband was taking care of their baby at the moment. She should carpe that diem before he came back and noticed that she was ogling the youth.

[for the huuuuuuuusband.]

When Rory rolled over to curl an arm around Anakin early Wednesday morning, she didn't really wake up. It was a very normal thing to do, after all, to cuddle with one's husband.

She snuggled up against him a bit more, and it felt different but Rory was about 90% asleep. And a new mother. Let her sleep while she could, please.

Rory would probably feel differently when she figured out what had happened.

[*starts the parade of posts because SOMEONE has to get up at ridiculous o'clock thanks to a RL wee one... :D*

Rory was doing her very best to do her homework for her Economics course, which was all going pretty much entirely over her head.

It was tough, naturally, considering that she was also keeping an eye on Juliet, who was contentedly sprawled on her little stomach, babbling little sounds to Vladdie (who, for his part, was deeply enjoying his game of Hover Near the Little Human, Then Fly Away Quickly.)

"Juliet," Rory asked over the screen of her laptop, "do you know what the pillars of free enterprise are?"

Juliet gurgled.

"I thought so."

[why yes, I am bored. Open for phone calls, emails, husbands, et cetera.]

Rory was still adjusting to motherhood. Her daughter was almost a month old now, and while she'd finally gotten Juliet to take a nap after a morning of playing with and feeding her, it was excusable that she initially didn't think much about the young woman perched on the counter where her coffeemaker had been.

"Why don't you ever use me anymore?" the girl plaintively asked after a moment. Rory jumped, staring, and it took minimal mental work to figure out what had happened.

Seriously, Rory was a four-year product of Fandom, now.

"...because you're bad for the baby. Or the coffee is, anyway?" she guessed, hoping that she'd guessed right.

"She doesn't have to drink coffee," the coffeemaker pointed out. "And you turned out fine, anyway. Isn't that what you're always telling Anakin?"

Rory never thought she'd be arguing with her coffeemaker in favor of her own caffeine abstinence.

First time for everything.

[Could not resist, omg.]

Rory was asleep, like a thing that had pushed something not-so-small through a far-smaller orifice.

She was allowed.

She'd tried to stay awake as long as possible, wondering at the tiny little thing with enormous blue eyes that was her daughter. But then the baby had been more interested in sleeping, and so was her mom.

Besides, Rory wasn't going to be bothered by any nurses or anything. They were all scared of Anakin.

[for the huuuuuuuuusband.]

It was barely anything when it woke her.

Rory's back had been achey all day, and she'd been fairly miserable and uncomfortable for the vast majority of the week, really. But she'd finally fallen asleep, only to wake several hours later with a sharp stabbing in her abdomen.

She pressed a hand to her belly, a sudden attack of nerves clarifying everything. "Anakin?"

The apartment was a vision of pink and white, decorated in floaty tulle and balloons and glitter and all kinds of Lorelai-esque things. Rory herself, as it was, was wearing a little tiara and a boa, both in pink. (Look, Lorelai was about to be a...grandma. She got to decorate.)

There was a table for presents, and a table with food (it helps when you're close friends with a caterer), and a mommy to be tucked on a couch with a puppy beside her.

Rory, thankfully, hadn't had to lift a finger.

Not that she would have been allowed, anyway.

[waaaaaaaaait for OCD it's up! open for any friends of either Skywalker. :D]

Sometime Saturday evening, Rory roused herself from the bed and finally sent out an invitation that she'd meant to get out a few days prior.

Look, she had been distracted. Several times a day, in fact.

( oh look a cut for image! )

[If you think you got it, you did! Feel free to use the comments to RSVP if you'd like to!]