Hellooooo! Let me tell you, this story has been a long time coming. It's my very late contribution to the Support Stacie Auction (from two auctions ago). I owe this story to the dear, sweet, and patient Phishes. I sincerely hope you'll be pleased with the end result. This story is going to be about 7 or 8 chapters, but I've already got a few in the bank, so you shouldn't have to wait too long for updates. It's loosely based on the movie It Could Happen To You – fabulous, heart-warming movie, if you haven't seen it.

Many thanks to OJ for doing research when I didn't feel like it, thanks also to the usual suspects for the countless writing sessions it took to get me to this point, and thanks especially to Mags: Team Jewels MVP and Miss Emoticon 2010. Enjoy!

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Stars Hollow isn't just a town, it's a feeling. It's a state of being. It brings out the very best in the people that live there. A person on the outside would marvel at this community of eccentric souls who somehow drifted together. In this town where fairytales take flight, a story of providence and possibility is born….

Miss Patty stood outside her dance studio at a quarter to ten, a familiar cloud of smoke swirling above her head. It wasn't the nicotine she was addicted to, it was the attention. Her cigarette was a symbol of her accomplishments – a means to gloat. It was a clear indication that she had an ace in her pocket. She'd one-upped East Side Tilly, and she wanted the world to know it.

Patty had witnessed something in the diner that morning: a transaction between two of Stars Hollow's most-watched citizens. Normally, their daily routine consisted of a dash of lively banter, with a supersized side of flirting, and a heaping helping of coffee poured with attitude. On this particular day, Lorelai Gilmore's tab was due, and she wasn't one to skip out on her debts. She was, however, quite willing to let things ride until she got caught. Well, today she got caught.

Now, Lorelai was a very vibrant, independent, successful woman. She was rich, but her wealth came in the form of an amazing daughter, a stable career, fabulous friends, and a man that would do absolutely anything for her at the drop of a blue hat. She had a dream of opening her own inn one day, and that dream was on the brink of becoming a reality. The only thing that stood in her way was the mean green – the almighty dollar. Things were tight, and as construction costs mounted, so too did her insecurity.

It wasn't simply money that rested on her tab at Luke's Diner. Her pride, her dignity, and her honour were all at stake, so when Luke broached the subject, she countered with an offer he couldn't refuse. He wouldn't refuse, because Luke knew a whole lot more than he would ever let on. People in Stars Hollow talked. He operated a diner that thrived on the provision of grease and gossip. He'd heard rumblings that construction at The Dragonfly Inn was at a standstill, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the reason why.

Earlier that morning, following a particularly demoralizing conversation with her contractor, Tom, Lorelai had trudged away from the inn – her inn – feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She did something she hadn't done since she'd been a maid, raising a baby girl on her own, hoping that the powers that be would finally take pity on her. She bought a lottery ticket.

As she stood before Luke, her last chance of survival clutched tightly in her fist and her heart beating as steady as his gaze, she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of calm. She saw something in his eyes that told her everything was going to be all right. Her grip loosened, and the ticket slipped between her fingers, floating slowly to the counter between them.

"If the ticket wins, I promise you half the winnings."

"And if the ticket loses?" Luke asked dubiously.

Lorelai shrugged. "Then you're no worse off."

He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just out the money on your tab. No big deal."

"It's not gonna lose, Luke," Lorelai said with conviction. "I'm feeling lucky. You and me, my friend. We're gonna strike it rich."

"Don't hold your breath," he grumbled.

It was all an act – the gruff demeanour, the grim expression. Luke didn't want her to know that he knew about her money troubles, so he kept up the pretence of a disgruntled proprietor collecting his dues.

She smirked, not a bit surprised by his reaction. "Oh," she said in remembrance. "Sign your name on the back. That way I can't run off to Fiji when I win the jackpot," she added with a wink.

He sighed tiredly but did as he was instructed, signing his name right next to hers with the pen from his shirt pocket.

Lorelai held out her hand, waiting expectantly for him to meet her gesture. Neither of them could prevent the smiles that appeared on their faces as they shook hands formally.

"Did that feel official to you?" Lorelai asked him, dropping her eyes and her hand to the countertop. She dismissed the flush on her cheeks and the adrenaline racing through body as excitement about the ticket, nothing more.

"Uh, yeah, very official." Luke nodded distractedly, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring her a tall to-go cup of her favourite beverage.

She beamed in delight. "This one going on the tab?" she asked, playfully batting her eyelashes.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Last one. After this your tab is closed, pending on the results of the draw tonight."

"Deal," Lorelai said with a satisfied smirk, turning on her heel and heading for the door. "Think green," she told him, waving as the bells signalled her exit.

Miss Patty smiled to herself from her table in the corner. Win or lose, this lottery ticket was going to change their lives. She was certain of it.

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Later that night, Lorelai sat in front of the TV with a nearly empty bowl of popcorn in her lap as she mindlessly flipped through the channels. The lottery ticket rested on the couch cushion next to her, and her eyes scanned it curiously.

6-19-24-29-33-35

"Six," she pondered aloud, tapping her chin with her index finger. "Six is lucky because I had six cups of coffee today … for breakfast."

She dropped the remote on the table and grabbed the ticket, holding it carefully in the palm of her hand. "Nineteen … I was nineteen when the Bananarama Wow! album was released." Lorelai lit up in a smile, quickly snatching the remote again and using it as a microphone. "Sugar's sweet, but your kisses can't be beat. Whatever you got, it's good enough for meeee." She belted out the lyrics, abandoning the bowl of popcorn between her legs and rising to her feet. "I can't help it! I'm captivated by your honeyyyy!"

The ticket fell to the floor in the heat of her performance, causing her to giggle. "Oops," she muttered, bending down to pick it up while self-consciously glancing around, making sure that she was the only witness to her spontaneous one-woman concert.

Returning the remote to the coffee table and her butt to the couch, she chewed on a handful of popcorn as her mind churned with thoughts on the significance of the number 24. "Mia promoted me to housekeeping manager when I was 24," Lorelai recalled with a proud smile, swallowing back the dissolving kernels in her mouth. "Three down, three to go."

She stared at the number '29,' not at all surprised by how quickly she was struck with an idea. "I turned 29 the year I met Luke." It was spoken in a half-whisper, this statistic that was so clear in her consciousness. "He's such a good guy," she said, unaware that the words had even passed through her lips.

She knew that he knew more than he was letting on that he knew about her financial situation, and yet he never once called her on it, never once made her feel guilty or ashamed that she'd landed in such a predicament. Oh, he'd be brusque, sometimes prickly, irritable, and downright disagreeable, but that was just Luke being Luke. He had no intention of collecting on her tab, just as she had no intention of allowing him to cover for her.

"God, I need to win this. Wouldn't that shock the hell out of him? It'd shock the hell out of me too," she admitted.

There were two numbers left. Matlock hummed in the background on her television set as she blinked up at the ceiling, completely in another world. "Ohhh!" she said, snapping her fingers in delight. "Luke put 33 chocolate chips in my pancakes this morning." She beamed, mentally ticking off another number. "Yes, burger boy, I totally counted them, though you'll deny it to your grave." Lorelai snickered, a warm tingle of pleasure shooting down her spine.

Even mocking him behind his back was fun. More satisfying still was the fact that she'd noticed Kirk's chocolate chip pancakes weren't nearly as decorated. Nor were Bootsy's or Gypsy's, for that matter.

"And that leaves us with 35," she announced, trying to ignore the swell of butterflies in her stomach. "35, 35, 35 … I, uh, oooh … nope. Got nothing," Lorelai sighed in defeat. "Wait! I will buy 35 people a cup of coffee at Luke's tomorrow if this ticket wins. And if there aren't 35 people in the diner when I go in, then I will drink their portions. That is a sacrifice I am willing to make." She reached for her mug of coffee on the table in a toast to her own generosity, gulping down several mouthfuls of the liquid.

Her eyes moved to the television, and she sighed. "Friday night and I'm watching Matlock, waiting for the big draw. I feel like an eighty-year-old."

Jason, her boyfriend, was currently on a business trip with her father. They'd been dating for over four months, and although she enjoyed him on many levels – particularly his wit and his uncanny ability to match her story for story on her traumatizing childhood – she just didn't feel enough of a spark or a sizzle with him. Many times she wondered if what she saw in him had more to do with Emily's inevitable displeasure in their relationship than her own genuine interest.

Glancing at the clock on her VCR, she perched up a little higher in her seat. It was 10:25 pm. Only 10 minutes to go. The Connecticut State Classic Lotto hadn't been won for several weeks, and the jackpot was sitting at five million dollars.

"Sorry, Benjamin," Lorelai muttered at the screen as she turned to the appropriate station. "I have some other Benjamins to think about."

Her heart started to beat a little faster as the time continued to tick away; her knee jerked impatiently, and she took another healthy swig of coffee, willing the clock to move faster.

"Five million dollars," she whispered in awe. "Five millllllion dollars! Five m-m-million!" Lorelai giggled as she quoted the DeVito line from Twins.

Her eyes widened in amusement when a frizzy-haired woman dressed in a bright blue blazer and a black knee-length skirt appeared on the television screen, demanding attention with her booming voice and rolling vowels.

"Good evening, Connecticut State!" the woman declared with a startling amount of enthusiasm. "I'm Gloria Peterson! Now get those tickets ready 'cause it's time to start calling some numbers!"

"God," Lorelai said with a shudder, her nerves already frayed. "This woman needs to come with a warning label."

"Let's kick things off with our Cash 5 draw!" Gloria shouted, the mechanical ball machine whirring to life behind her. "The first number up … is 1! The second … is 6! The third … is 12! The fourth … is 17! And the last … is 24! Making tonight's Cash 5 official numbers: 1, 6, 12, 17, and 24!"

Lorelai pressed her hand to her heart. "Gah!" she yelped, lowering the volume several notches. "Gloria, I think you're headed for a breakdown."

She quietly controlled her breathing as Gloria ran through the Mega Millions numbers, then sucked in a gulp of air when her draw was introduced.

"Our final draw of the night is for the Classic Lotto!"

"This is it," Lorelai hissed, increasing the volume once more, clutching her ticket in her trembling hand. "Show me the money, Gloria. I think you've got my numbers."

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A spectacular sunrise brought in a new day. It began in the East, casting a distinctive glow on the Gilmore household. Lorelai groaned, cursing the brightness of the sun that blazed through her curtains and the stiff crick in her neck. She rolled onto her side, only then noticing that she hadn't even made it between the sheets. The stale taste in her mouth was a rather unpleasant reminder of yet another crucial component of her usual nightly routine that she'd neglected. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she blinked at the alarm clock, confirming that it was indeed way too early to be awake, but something else caught her eye on the bedside table: the lottery ticket.

Her lips curled into a lazy smile, memories of the previous night flooding back to her. The aches in her joints and muscles reminded her of the spastic dancing fit that lasted well over an hour, the dull throbbing in her head prompted her to recall the time she finally crashed – sometime after 2 am – and the state of her dress (a pyjama top sans bottoms) was evidence of the coffee spilling incident that occurred when the third number was announced.

"Funny," Lorelai croaked, her scratchy voice due to a combination of too little sleep and too much screaming. "Not even winning the lottery can make a girl appreciate the morning."

Despite her less than lively condition, she was still showered, dressed, and ready to face the day forty minutes later. At 7:30 am, she stepped out into the fresh air, her purse slung over her shoulder, the lottery ticket tucked safely inside. First stop: Luke's diner.

TBC….