Author's Note: First attempt at a completed Gilmore Girls fanfic! It's not much, but hopefully it's somewhat interesting.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own these characters. But you have no idea how much I want to. They're worth at least my liver and a kidney or two (Amy Sherman-Palladino are you listening?)


It was such a stupid thing. A meaningless, throwaway phrase that was being taken out of context. In fact, it didn't even have a context. It was just a thing that had been said when talking about something else entirely. A thing to try and convince her that she should trust Jess. So why couldn't she shake it from her mind?

"If you'll remember, you weren't too fond of Luke when you first met him."
"That's not true."
"You called him Duke for two years just to make him mad."
"And let me tell you, it worked."
"
But then you guys talked and eventually, time went by, and now you love him."

"…and now you love him."

Lorelai Gilmore was sitting on her bed in her pajamas with her legs stretched out in front of her, frowning at her slippers with a concentration rarely seen on her face outside of movie night. The conversation she and Rory had had earlier that evening played over and over in her mind like the Small World song.

She did not love Luke. Why would Rory say that? Did her daughter really believe that? She remembered the time when Max had woken up in their house one morning, after their first date, and Rory had asked if she loved him. It had thrown her completely. Perhaps her daughter believed that she loved any single man that she spent more than an hour in the company of and who had seen her with a morning no-makeup face and monkey pajamas. While the thought concerned her, it made her feel a bit better about this whole predicament. Maybe when Rory said "love", she just meant…something that wasn't how Lorelai would define it.

But then how would Lorelai define love? Who did she love? Rory, of course; more than life itself. Also Sookie, and by extension Jackson. She supposed her relationship with her parents couldn't really be called loving, and yet they were still her blood relations, and that necessitated some sort of love-like feelings, even if they were constantly mixed with anger and frustration and annoyance.

There had been times when maybe she felt something towards the man in the flannel, but what that something was she wasn't sure. She trusted him. She knew he would always be there for her, and she for him. She knew he loved Rory.

But she had never thought about dating Luke. That's not true, Lorelai, a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered. You asked Rory if she thought he was cute. You wanted him to ask you out that time, after Rune left. You thought he was going to. You almost kissed him behind his counter in the diner. You could feel yourself wanting more…you even told your mom you might have feelings for him.

Lorelai's brain went into panic-induced defensive mode. So what if he's cute? A lot of guys are cute…that doesn't mean I love them. He's like…a brother! Or something…Luke as a brother? What a strange thought…but their relationship seems as antagonistic as one of siblings. True, Rory and Sookie and her mom had all teased her so many times that Luke was into her…that she was into him as well…but she had brushed it off without a second thought…most of the time at least.

Damn it! Not that annoying little voice again! Lorelai actually hit the pillow next to her out of frustration. Why was her brain telling her conflicting things? Why was there a little voice in her head, goading her, that didn't seem to quite belong to her? Was this the first sign of madness? Was she going insane? Was she going to have to talk to a shrink who'd make her lay down on a couch and ask her all about her childhood problems to figure out her repressed sexual feelings?

Lorelai let out a mental groan of agony. She hated analysis. Rory was the one who was good at that, not her. If a guy asked her out and she thought he was at least decent to look at, she accepted. From there it was all guesswork. How else could she explain being a few days from marrying a man she barely knew before she saw sense and ran for the hills? How else could she have ended up having sex with her father's daughter on her parents' balcony? Lorelai wasn't much of a thinker – she was a doer, and she knew this. So why couldn't she just let this thought go, like all of the other times?

Less than a year ago, she'd given Rory a talk about "love", and not being scared to tell someone you loved them, if it was true. Then her daughter had abruptly turned the tables on her, asking if she was ready to admit her love for someone else. Feeling uncomfortable, she mentioned that she was "working on it". How? Had she been? She never told Max she loved him, despite the fact that he told her many times. Well duh, Lorelai, that's because you didn't love him! Damn that little voice!

But this time, she had to admit it was true. She hadn't loved Max. She wasn't sure she knew exactly what love was, but she knew that it wasn't something she felt about Max. She had wanted to – extremely badly, in fact. But she hadn't. She had told Rory she loved Christopher, but that was different. You were always going to be closely bound to the father of your child – it's like a law. Even if Christopher turned out to be a serial killer, that wouldn't change the fact that he was half of her perfect, angel daughter. Not loving him would be equivalent of not loving Rory.

But was that the same kind of love Rory was talking about? Sometimes she thought she and Christopher really could be more – he made her feel something. And Luke…well Luke already was something more. She remembered sheepishly telling him he was one of the few people in her life who would always be there for her, a list from which Christopher (and even her parents) had been noticeably missing. Trying to make herself believe that Luke did not occupy a special place in her life would be fruitless and completely untruthful.

Was that special place a place of love? What does it even mean to love someone? Is it just to care deeply about them? In that case, she supposed, she did love him. But then what about the un-loved Max? Did she not deeply care about him as well? Or maybe just not deeply enough? What exactly was the threshold where caring about someone turned into full-blown love? It was all just too confusing. I need a Twinkie, she thought desperately.

If she didn't love Luke, then how could she explain the deep affection she had towards him as a friend and father figure in Rory's life? Perhaps purely for the sense of history, their bond could be described as one of love. That makes sense – Max cared about Rory and me but not in the same way as Luke. He wasn't a stable presence in our lives for the last five years. He didn't fix my house or come to Rory's birthday parties. But what kind of logic is that anyway? Tom and Kirk have also worked on the house, and she hardly loves them!

Irritated by inconclusiveness but resigned to it, Lorelai slumped down on her pillows. I trust Luke, she thought. I trust him more than almost anyone else I know, with everything. My thoughts, my fears, my joy, my offspring…and if that's love then…then I suppose I do love him. Even letting that thought permeate her brain felt like she was allowing some sort of dangerous and uncontrollable poison to seep into her body, and she wasn't sure why. It was terrifying, and yet strangely exhilarating.

And…the little voice continued, and if sometimes I wonder, in an alternate universe, where Luke didn't find me annoyingly repulsive and I wasn't completely incompatible with commitment…if I wasn't raising my teenage daughter and he wasn't raising that hoodlum of a nephew…then maybe…she sighed heavily. I don't know. But that's not how it is. So for now…she'll just have to live with that. After all, it's worked pretty well so far.

And in the future? Let's not even go there. One day at a time. She smiled briefly to herself, then rolled over and fell fast asleep.