Paris is currently staring at the envelope in Rory’s outstretched hand like it’s a poisonous snake. “What’s your angle, Gilmore?” she asks suspiciously.
“No angle!” Rory promises. “Well, four angles. Get it? ‘Cause the envelope’s a—”
“It’s not a state or national holiday,” Paris interrupts, still eying the envelope with gratuitous concern. “And you can’t be serving me legal papers unless you’ve somehow attended law school without my knowing. Wait, is that what this is? Some kind of Legally Brunette situation?”
“You think I’d go to law school so I could get my girlfriend entangled in our country’s flawed judicial process?”
“Maybe that’s your version of keeping things fresh.”
“Why don’t you just open it?” Rory suggests. Paris ignores her, surprise surprise.
“Are you finally paying me back for that time we saw The Force Awakens in 3D? The gesture’s purely symbolic, of course, now that we’ve joined our bank accounts. Plus, watching Rey annihilate Kylo Ren’s whiny ass was payment enough.”
“Paris,” Rory says, shoving the envelope into Paris’s face. “What’s in exactly two and a half weeks?”
Paris softens. “This is an anniversary thing?”
“You could find out if you take the damn envelope.”
Paris snatches the paper, grinning. When she fishes out the tickets, her expression quickly shifts from confused to glowing.
“Just like old times,” Rory says, her heart beating a little too fast. She needs some verbal confirmation that she hasn’t messed up her first anniversary gift. “We can even get my mom to knock down every door in a random New York apartment building, if you wanna really recreate the magic. …Do you like it?”
Rory barely gets out the question before she’s engulfed in a bone-crushing Paris Geller hug.