Off The Bus

Prologue

Lorelai broke away from work and ran towards the diner…well, hurried towards the diner. She couldn't be expected to run in heels. She pushed open the door, letting the smell of good food and coffee waft over her before turning to the harried man behind the counter.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"You called the bus station?"

"Yeah," he muttered as he got her a cup of coffee.

"Did you call your sister?"

He scoffed, and looked utterly disgusted. "I tried for days. When she calls me, since she never answers the phone, she says not to worry about him. She says he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. What does he know? He's just a seventeen-year-old kid. He's never had a job, he's never had to fend for himself."

"Well," Lorelai said, dragging the word out. Luke glowered at her, but didn't expect her to stop talking for any reason. She didn't disappoint him. "Maybe not. I don't know. I'm not really one to talk about not running away, am I? And I had no job, had never had to fend for myself. He's even older than I was."

"Yeah but you're…you," Luke finally said. "You know what you have to do. Besides, you had Rory, who was definitely incentive to take care of yourself. What if he ends up dead in the gutter? We'll never know about it."

"So you should call the police. It's been three days. That's more than enough time for them to file a missing person's report."

"What if I do? He left the damn note." And he vividly remembered when the bus driver had found it in the vacant seat. "I'm not a kid. I'll do what I want. And what I want is to be left alone." It had been tersely signed, Jess.

Lorelai watched her best friend, knowing he was remembering, knowing he was torn. He wanted to drag the kid back by the scruff of the neck, but knew it would be next to impossible to find him. "At least we know he's not on any busses," Lorelai said. "So, he's probably stationary, wherever he is."

"Or he's is hitchhiking his way across the country," Luke said darkly. "There's a million things that he could be doing right now, and none of them involve being anywhere he's gonna get caught."

"Luke, this isn't your fault," Lorelai said, and went behind the counter to give him a hug.

He waited until she'd pulled away before saying, "Yeah, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Lorelai—"

"Tell me how this could possibly be your fault."

"Liz sent the kid to me."

"Yes, but you didn't want her to. You were going to take him in, but you didn't want to. That doesn't make it your fault."

"I coulda gone to New York to pick him up."

"Though I would have paid money to see you in New York, there's no guarantee he would have shown up there, either," Lorelai countered.

"I could have called to check on his progress."

"You're not omniscient," Lorelai told him. "Face it Luke, you're not Andy Richter; you can't control the universe."

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to stop trying to fix everything. There are some things that aren't fixable. Your nephew might be one of them." She laid a hand on his arm. "Are you okay? Are you going to call the police?"

"And have them haul the kid back in chains, just to watch him walk away again?" he shook his head resignedly. "He inherited a little too much from his father, apparently," he added bitterly. "Though his mother was never one for sticking around when things got tough."

"Luke," Lorelai said, trying not to take offense to his words. How could she fault Jess for doing the exact same thing she'd done? Though she saw what this was doing to Luke, so she could resent him for that. "I think you're doing the right thing."

Luke laughed shortly, bitterly. "Yeah, thanks. I'll be sure to note that every time I hear about a John Doe in the morgue."

Lorelai sighed, but knew she had to get back to work. She leaned up and kissed Luke on the cheek then said goodbye and left the diner.

At Sookie and Jackson's Wedding:

"So…you heard?" Rory asked, watching her mother inhale her alcoholic drink like she was suffocating.

"Yeah, I heard," she said, trying not to sound bitter. What right did she have, she thought, to resent Christopher for finding the family he'd always wanted? He's had his damn family for seventeen years. He never took our offer. Part of it was her fault, she knew, but she would wallow in that fact some other time.

"And you feel how about this?"

"I'm happy for Christopher. And Sherry," she added as an afterthought. "And I can just picture how the tabloids will shell out to see that miniscule woman pregnant, fat, and with swollen ankles." She grinned momentarily at the thought.

"At least you can be happy in your vindictiveness," Rory said lightly, making sure her mother knew she didn't mean it.

"Eh," Lorelai said. "What's life if you can't be a little vindictive sometimes?"

"Oh!" Rory shoved the bouquet into Lorelai's hands. "That's the music! Our cue!"

Lorelai cried during the ceremony. She knew she would. The problem was, she had about thirteen jokes going through her head about Jackson's kilt, and she was having trouble containing them all. She decided she had to save them and tell them to Rory when Sookie and Jackson were already out of town for their honeymoon. That was the only recourse, when she knew Jackson would kill her.

The reception was wonderful, and because they kept Dean hidden away on the other side of the house from Miss Patty and Babette, no harm was done to anyone. Everyone had a wonderful time. Except Lorelai. Everywhere she looked were couples, couples, and more couples. Sookie and Jackson, Rory and Dean, Babette and Morey, hell, even her parents. Even in her head, couples were spinning, Christopher and Sherry, Max and the woman Rory had heard about through the school grapevine, which she'd been reluctant to divulge.

"Hey," someone said from behind her, and she turned with relief to her best friend, her single best friend.

"Wow," she said, taking in the suit he wore. "That just doesn't look quite the same in different settings, does it?" she asked of his suit. It was the same one he'd worn to his uncle's funeral, but in this less intimate setting, he looked a little more festive. And she hated to admit it, but she almost wished he'd kept the baseball hat on.

"It feels different. I saw that your drink was empty, thought you could use another one." He took the empty glass from her hand and pressed a take-out cup of coffee in its place. She smiled up at him as she took her first sip, and watched as he smiled back.

"Why haven't we ever gone out, Luke?" she asked suddenly.

Luke froze, then glanced around nervously. "Uh," he said, clearing his throat. He still sounded slightly choked when he said, "I, uh, don't know."

"I mean, we've been on a first-name basis for, what? Nine, ten years?"

"You mean when you called me Duke?"

Lorelai winced. "Okay. Make it seven, eight years?"

"That seems about right," Luke conceded, not looking at her.

"So how come you've never asked me out?"

Luke shrugged.

"Come on, Luke," Lorelai said, admitting she was probably a little drunk, and was probably talking more than even she should. But she couldn't stop. "Please? You gotta tell me. 'Cause there's obviously something wrong with me," she added, almost to herself. She shook her head. "I mean, I can't keep a guy, even with a kid between us."

"Lorelai," Luke said, almost sharply. She looked up at him, startled. "I won't hear you talk about yourself like that. You are the most…" he trailed off, looking at her so piercingly that she had the nervous feeling he was almost looking through her. "You're courageous, smart, funny, beautiful, and a wonderful friend. I can't think of anyone else who would have stuck by me and helped me the way you did when my nephew didn't show, or when my uncle died."

"Then why can't I have one of those?" she demanded, pointing at Jackson, at Sookie's side laughing with guests.

"You want a kilt?" Luke asked skeptically.

It made her laugh, when she hadn't expected to be in the mood to laugh. "No. I want…a man, I guess. I don't necessarily think I want a husband, or even a boyfriend. I don't know."

Luke pulled her into a more private place. "Lorelai, how much have you had to drink?"

"A couple of glasses of some fruity cocktail-y thing, why?"

"Because. I want to make sure you'll remember this," he said, just before he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips.

She froze. This was Luke. This was Luke kissing her, gently, tenderly, as if he wanted to wrap her in cotton and protect her forever. As if she was something to be treasured.

She liked it.

Her arms went around his neck, pulling his body against hers. The kiss stayed gentle, light. And it was killing Luke. He'd wanted her for years, loved her for less time, but certainly no less fervently. With great reluctance, he made his body tilt backwards, until only her arms around his neck and his arms lightly holding her waist connected them.

"Wow," she said softly, staring up at him. Dazed, happy. And slightly drunk.

"Why don't we talk about this some other time?" Luke asked.

"No, let's talk about it now," Lorelai said. "Better yet, let's not talk at all for a while."

"Lorelai," Luke said, holding her off with more effort than he thought it would take. "We can't. You're tipsy."

"I'm not drunk," she said, slightly offended.

"No, you're not. You're just not in full control. But you will remember this." He was sure of that. "And we'll talk some other time."

He slipped out of her hold and climbed down the steps. He said a terse, "Congratulations," to the happy couple, and then headed for his apartment.

Lorelai watched him go, fondly exasperated, and slightly dreamy. Who knew he could kiss like that? Rachel was a complete idiot. "Oh, yeah," she murmured to herself. "We'll definitely talk about it later."