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This Brillant Dance
by jaded innocence
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This is just a little fluffy fic, I guess to get myself back into writing.
It Java Junkie with bits of Literati, and it will probably be a three-
part fic. If the continual POV change is difficult, please suggest a
way to clarify. PLEASE review. Tell me how much you loved it, how
you think I should throw myself off the nearest cliff, whatever. Just,
anything, is great. Thanks :-)
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Ms. Patty sits, taking a long drag from her cigarette. Pretending to
take in the scenery that she has seen an uncountable number of
times before is a cover for what she is actually doing: checking out
the backside of every seemingly legal man that walks by.
During a particularly slow period, where she is distinctly unsatisfied
with the view, she actually takes a few precious seconds out of her
man-hunting routine to look over the town. Another festival, held for
no apparent reason, has taken over the square, and music plays
gently on the warm summer breeze. Ms. Patty shifts on the bench
and glances around, looking for more men. Her eyes rest on Luke,
sitting all alone on a bench. She hums to herself and prepares to get
up and walk over when Lorelai comes over with a cup of coffee in
hand and plops herself on the bench beside him.
Ms. Patty chuckles to herself and sits down again. Those two. Two of
the stupidest people she'd ever met. Can't even see who is standing
right in front of them, what could be...what should be.
Unfortunately, Ms. Patty, in her rare moment of wisdom, also
misses what is right in front of her-a particularly muscular
firefighter with a very nice behind.
*
"Aww, Lukey! Finally breaking down after all these years and going
to a festival!" Lorelai says happily as she spots Luke and sits down
on the bench beside him, thermos of coffee in hand. The stars are
dancing in the sky and Luke watches, amused, as she hums the tune
of that song that's playing that he's never heard.
"I didn't 'break down' and come to this dumb festival for the sake of
the festival. I came based on the gossip-that there would be a
second showing of Kirk's movie." She smirks at this, and he grins
in return. Something twinges in the pit of her stomach, but she
ignores it. That twinge has become all too familiar lately. It shakes
her sometimes when he smiles, when he looks at her, when he dips
close to her to pour her coffee. She chalks it up to her hormones.
Her love life has been pathetically empty lately.
"Well, I can guarantee that it will be worth it. No one can bust a
move like Kirk. You may even harbor temporary same-sex
tendencies at the sight of his bare chest."
"I've seen my own chest before and noted no sexual side effects, so
I'm sure Kirk's won't be a problem," he tells her. He blushes as he
comes to the realization that the statement that had sounded witty
in his mind has come out boasting his narcissistic tendencies
instead. Or his great bare chest. One or the other. He waits for her
to tease, but she sits for moment in silence.
She tries to think of an innuendo to throw back, but all she comes
up with is asking him to prove that his chest is that much better
than Kirk's. She isn't quite sure why her wit has chosen that
particular moment to leave her. Maybe it's the quiet way Luke
looked at her and huskily uttered the word sexual -she stops the
dirty thought before she has to shower and manages to speak.
"After all, the sight of Kirk's bare chest did prompt me to
eat salad for three days in payment for the bootleg copy of the
movie Rory found me," she adds.
When she asked him to prove it, it sounded like an offer to him. He
has no idea what he's doing and why he takes the offer seriously,
but he grabs her free hand and presses it to his chest. She gasps
sharply and leans into him, and there's a question on the tip of her
tongue, but her mouth is dry and she's too heated to remember it.
She simply lets him touch her, and she can feel the rapid beating of
his heart pulsing like the blood beneath her own burning skin. She
has no idea what she's doing.
*
His strawberries are fat and crimson, Jackson notes with pride. He
doesn't need reassurance of the obvious talent he has with fruits
and vegetables. It's one of the only things he knows of without
being told. He examines the picnic basket hungrily and realizes he
can't indulge without his partner.
He slowly cranes his neck, waiting for Sookie, who went off to find
Lorelai. While he does, he notices Lorelai sitting on the bench with
Luke nearby. Rolling his eyes, he wonders where Sookie has gone to
with Lorelai only a few feet away.
He squints, expecting to see Sookie coming back behind Lorelai.
Instead, he catches a glimpse of Luke glancing at Lorelai heavily,
her hand pressed to his chest by his own. For the first time since
they've been married, he finds himself glad that Sookie isn't there.
If she was, he would be forced to listen to that rant about coffee and
fate and Luke and Lorelai and how they belonged together. He
doesn't need to be told things he already knows.
*
Lorelai is trapped and very, very warm. The night is sultry
and the crowd is falling into a velvety silence that surrounds her.
The only thing she is aware of is the pounding of the blood
coursing through all of her veins. She is also becoming slowly
aware of the way Luke is looking at her, the way his breath is short and heaving.
His mouth is tantalizingly close to hers. She wants to kiss him. And as soon as
she realizes that she is thinking about kissing Luke, she really feels
the need to break this odd connection.
"Uhhh..." Lorelai begins. She tries to detach her tongue from
the roof of her mouth but finds that her entire mouth feels like sandpaper.
She swallows hard. She doesn't remove her hand from him.
She feels like she can't.
Luke just waits and watches. He doesn't know what is happening
to his better judgment. When Lorelai speaks accusing like he knows she will,
he decides that he will plead temporary insanity and turn his attention to
Kirk's movie, rather than focusing on the way she smells and the way her hand
is burning his heart slowly with every finger that touches him. He squirms a
bit to focus on something else, something to distract him from this damn heat.
Her hand is still there, his hands still holding it.
"Luke," she breathes, trying to break the moment before hormones get the
better of her and she really does kiss him. Her attempt has failed as
soon as his name tumbles from her throat. Instead of sounding determined
like she meant to, she sounds longing. Lorelai silently damns her stupid voice
and her stupid teenage hormones.
Luke studies at her, unsure of what the hell is going on. His name
echoes in her husky tones inside his head and her pulse jumps
under his finger. Kirk's movie begins, but Luke is no longer
interested in break-dancing Kirk. Not even marginally. Not even at
all.
*
Jess and Rory are huddled together on a picnic blanket. Her eyes are
intent on the screen, and a small grin traces the corners of her lips.
His hand strokes her hair absently as he watches a bare-chested
Kirk onscreen with disgust. He averts his eyes just as she glances
upward.
"Huh-uh. You have to watch the whole thing, or there is no way that
we're renting your movie," she says, shaking her head.
"Ror, c'mon. Wouldn't it scare you a little if I actually showed
interest in a movie that features half-naked Kirk? I'm sorry, but this
is disgusting."
Rory hides a smile at the repulsed expression on his face as he
turns away. Resigned, she sighs loudly and turns her attention
back to the screen. "Fine," she replies airily. "But if you won't allow
me to torture you now, I'll torture you later. We'll get Indian food
and read a little Danielle Steele aloud."
"As long as I read the raunchy part," he smirks, then turns his head
fully in the other direction before she can slap his cheek. She gets a
piece of his ear instead, but cannot be bothered to get into a large
fight when Kirk's dancing is getting so good.
Not that Jess notices the slap anyway. He's too busy trying to turn
his head in another direction. He's all for raunchy in moderation, but
between Kirk's movie and the way his uncle is looking at Lorelai like
he wants to throw her down on the bench and rip her skirt off, he's
overloading his raunchy limit for the night. Watching them, he also
gets the strangest feeling he is looking at himself and Rory. He
shakes his head.
Jess kisses Rory's neck quickly to drain his thoughts and then
studies the ground. Mud is the dirtiest view he cares for at the
moment.
*
Lorelai has lost track of how long her hand as been pressed to
Luke's chest. She has lost track of all rational thought, actually.
She is oddly fascinated by the way his heartbeat jumps so quickly
into her hand. She gulps and meets his eyes again.
There is a pregnant pause in all movement, all attempts to make
conversation. Luke tries to control himself. He clears his throat and
finally, releases his grip on her hand. She can't touch him anymore.
She is still looking at him, but her hand is trailing down his chest,
down his stomach, dipping dangerously low before coming
to rest on his leg. Luke feels his blood coming to a slow boil and
grabs her hand, roughly removing it from his leg.
"Lorelai," he groans. He can't take it. She's teasing him so badly he
is starting to ache. "What are you doing?"
She rubs her hand absently and looks at him with wide eyes. She
shakes her head. "Sorry," she says. "I don't know...." He shakes his
head. Lorelai is too hormonal for his taste right now. He wonders
who she has broken up with this time. That is, after all, the only
logical explanation for her sudden longing. He turns his head back
to the movie.
Lorelai watches him watching Kirk, her mind racing. She wonders
blankly what the hell is going on. Why all of a sudden, here, on this
bench she can't get enough of Luke. It's ridiculous. Insane, even.
Lorelai has never really been a fan of perfect sanity.
*
Abrupt ending? Possibly. But I have 3 parts, and I don't want to c
cram all the good stuff into one. Drop a line.
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