AN: Here's a one-shot that I wrote for pure enjoyment. Sure, it may be a little OOC, but it was fun to write and hopefully, fun to read. While it is a one-shot currently, I do have ideas for a continuation floating around in my head. At this current moment, that is the only place they are so I don't want to fool you or myself into thinking it's going to be updated any time soon. However, as it's currently written, I think it stands alone just fine. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

•••

The radio is tuned into a station where apparently, she knows every song. It annoys him almost as much as he finds it adorable. He's mystified at this stranger who is humming along, and dare he think, flirting with him. Not in the usual eyelash batting, shoulder swiping kind of way. Subtle, he thinks. Her eyes keep darting towards him, and her lips form a small smile. He returns it almost subconsciously. And her humming fills his ears, and he can't help but glance down at her legs, bare slightly above her knee.

It's been mostly quiet, her mood changing significantly from when she had first picked him up.

When the Jeep had pulled over, Luke had been more than a little surprised when the window rolled down and there was a woman smiling at him on the other side. The rain splashed into her car.

"Everything okay?" she had asked.

Luke held his hand over his eyes, blocking the rain from obscuring his view. She was beautiful. "Are you crazy? Stopping for a stranger this late at night?"

She laughed and it was then he noticed that she had been crying. No fresh tears, but the tracks were clear. She had attempted to wipe them away.

"Need a ride?" she asked, ignoring his concern.

"No I'm good," he had said, waving her off.

"You don't look like you're good." She motioned towards his truck on the side of the road.

Luke sighed. "I just need to get to a phone."

"Here," She reached across the seat, unlocking the door. "Get in, I'll take you."

"I really appreciate it Ma'am, but I just wouldn't feel right."

She gawked at him. "Did you just call me Ma'am?"

He flushed. "Sorry."

"I'm Lorelai, and I'm no where near a Ma'am yet, thank you."

He was sure she'd drive off then, but she sat there staring straight ahead. He watched her as he felt the rain break through his shirt, rolling down his back.

"Are you getting in or what?" she said, seemingly nearing the end of her patience.

Luke sighed. "I'll get your car wet. It's okay, I'll just walk."

At this she turned to him. "Walk? Do you have any idea how far it is to the next town?"

He did know. He had taken this route nearly every night for the past three months. Hartford Memorial to Star's Hollow: 37 miles, 45 minutes by car. Enough time to wipe the tears from his face and appear normal to those waiting for him on the other side.

He had opened the door carefully, watching for disapproval to flash across her face the entire time. It never did. "You sure?"

She smiled. "I'm sure."

He had gotten in and thanked her graciously. He had taken off his flannel, attempting to wring it out the window, hoping to keep her car as dry as possible. They had not moved yet and when he turned to see why, she was smiling at him, watching as he uncomfortably sat, not letting his back hit her seat. Feet awkwardly placed around the empty coffee cups, setting his flannel back on his lap.

"You can relax. It's made for getting wet."

He had smiled uncomfortably and let his back gently rest to pacify her.

"See a murderer would hardly have as much concern for my car like you do."

He grimaced. "You really shouldn't pick people up on the side of the road like that."

She had simply smiled and they went on their way.

It hadn't taken long for the silence to move to an uncomfortable place. While she seemed completely unaffected, unexpectedly, it was grating on his nerves.

"So where are you headed this time of night?" he asks.

She smiles wickedly and continues humming along with a song that Luke recognizes all too well. Heart. Or Foot. Or Brain. A body part, he remembers. His sister loves them. He figures most women probably do.

He sighs when he realizes he's not going to get a response.

"Don't worry. I never do this," she says and he looks at her questioningly. "The whole pick up a stranger thing," she finishes in explanation.

He nods, remaining silent.

"I had a feeling about you. Unassuming." This time he doesn't respond. She puts her thumb out with a jab. "No thumb."

He nods. The rain has slacked off a bit. "Well thanks for stopping."

She smiles warmly. He returns it and turns away shyly.

"What a night," she says, suddenly wanting to talk.

"Yep."

"I'm from Hartford," she offers.

He nods. "Nice place."

She scoffs. "Hardly."

He's not sure what to say. "I think there's a gas station up here in a couple of miles."

"And then what?" she asks.

"I can call someone to come pick me up."

"Girlfriend?" she asks innocently.

He winces.

"Oh, sore subject."

"No, no girlfriend. It's fine. My sister hopefully. It's hard to catch her at home these days."

"Oh, I know that phase well."

"Now?"

"Not so much. Having a two year old makes it difficult."

"Oh."

"Yes, I know. I'm too young to have a two year old."

"I wasn't thinking that."

She rolls her eyes. "Sure."

"My sister has a kid too. Had him when she was pretty young."

"16."

"Huh?"

"That's how old I was. Save you some trouble doing the math."

"I wasn't doing the math."

She glances at him. "Everyone does the math."

Silence falls on the car again and he drums his fingers on his leg. He glances to her left hand.

Relieved, he asks, "You're heading away from Hartford you know."

She gasps, feigning shock. "Oh heavens! Not again!"

He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

"I know where I'm going. Well, not exactly where," she backpedals. "But I'm good with the general direction."

"Aimlessly driving around picking up strangers from the side of the road?"

She smiles. "Not aimless. And you make my rescue sound so blasé."

"Your rescue huh?"

"Oh yeah. Handsome stranger, stranded in the rain."

He blushes. "Geez."

She laughs. "So how old are you? Twenty-four, twenty-five?"

Yet another reminder of the course his father's illness had taken on his body. "Twenty-one. And I take it you're eighteen."

She nods. "As of today."

The tracks on her face, fresh in his mind, he frowns. "Today?"

"Happy birthday to me," she says, halfheartedly.

"Are you on your way somewhere?"

"Eh, well, not really." She sighs.

"Bad day?"

She smiles tightly at him and raises her eyebrows in confirmation. She takes a deep breath. "So you live in Hartford too?"

Luke grows uncomfortable and shifts slightly in his seat. "No. Just visiting." She cocks her head interested. "Family," he clarifies.

"Ahh," she says in sympathy. "Family."

Not like that, he wants to say. Making family sound like such a chore. Such an inconvenience.

He hesitates. "Yep. Family."

"Are you close to yours?" He can tell right away that her inquiry is less about him than it implies.

He proceeds carefully. "Well, when everyone else in this world lets you down, sometimes family's the only thing you can really count on."

She swipes at her face and lets out a sarcastic, "Hm."

He needs a different approach, he quickly realizes. "But on the other hand, when they do let you down, it hurts that much more," he says gently.

At this, she says nothing and he's desperate to change the subject. "So what's your kid's name?"

She visibly lights up. "Rory."

Luke smiles. "Rory. I like that."

"She's the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. Not the labor stuff of course. Could have definitely done without that portion."

Luke grimaces and she laughs. "So where is Rory tonight? With her dad?"

He seems to be hitting all the sore spots tonight as he watches the smile fall from her face. "No, um." She hesitates and pauses as she changes to radio station. A delay tactic he recognizes. "She's with my parents." She glances at him nervously. "We live there. With my parents."

"That must be nice. To have that support."

"You'd think," she says bitterly. A dam seems to break as the next words flow, desperate from captivity. "All I wanted tonight was to spend my birthday with her. Go somewhere. Get out of that house."

Luke watches as she rants. Her fingers tight on the steering wheel and he can't help but want to comfort her in some way. He resists that urge.

"Apparently that's too much to ask. Instead, my parents invited all of their friends over, all of which by the way, are not too fond of an eighteen year old mother."

"Doesn't sound like a great birthday."

"No it doesn't," she replies stiffly.

He's not quite sure what to say. He settles on a soft, "I'm sorry."

She gives him a small smile. "That's your fee for this ride. To listen to me complain." She takes a deep breath. "Just needed to get that out."

"It's okay. I really don't min-"

She jumps a little in her seat. "Oh! There's a gas station!"

It's a little unfortunate light in the distance. In all honesty, as terrible as it makes him feel for thinking so, it's a relief to hear someone else's problems for a little while. To be with someone who isn't giving him the pity that he so hates. Everything will be okay. He's going to get through this. Lies. Lies that are supposed to make him feel better.

He tries to muster some enthusiasm. "Oh, that's great."

She smirks. "Well, not that great. Don't oversell it."

He smiles. A labored effort as thoughts of being alone once more make him miserable. "Thanks for the ride, Lorelai."

"See? That sounds much better than Ma'am." Her tone has changed slightly, and he's not sure why, but she keeps glancing at him, almost in question.

"It does."

"And should I just call you Sir?"

"Oh sorry." They pull into the station. "It's Luke." The casual tone of his voice betrays the growing anxiety, as the car gets closer to the phone.

She puts the car in park as she pulls beside the pay phone, lit by a flickering lamppost. "Creepy," she says.

He nods, words escaping him as he struggles to keep from saying, Take me away from here.

"I'll wait till your ride comes and gets you." She takes off her seatbelt.

"You don't have to. You've already gone so-"

He's not sure what has silenced him, because it has happened so fast. But he realizes quickly, that these lips are not his own. And she's kissing him. And it has happened so fast, but he has already melted into her. A comfort in her touch, and electricity running through him, and most definitely her, because she is holding his upper arms, squeezing them at every give or take. And she pulls back, breathing heavily and looking at him closely, more closely than she's been allowed so far. He feels as if he's being inspected, watching her eyes flicker about his face.

"Sorry," she whispers but she obviously doesn't mean it. She attaches to him again, and he sighs happily.

He doesn't protest because her kisses are melting away thoughts of his dying father. Thoughts of his truck on the side of the road after the miserable visit that made him lose his self on the drive home. Thoughts of the empty hardware store that awaits him. A cash register that his father taught him how to work less than a year ago. "Just in case," he had said.

The miserable ride home where he was too caught up in his emotions to realize the gas tank was nearing empty. Too caught up to realize it was raining and he was shaking. And that when the truck sputtered to a stop, how all he could think of was stripping off all of this clothes and lying naked on the shoulder of the road, never to return back to the hospital or to the hardware store or to his life. And when she had stopped, he had dreamed that it was his father there to take him home.

But now he is an adolescent again and all he can think of is how smooth her mouth is and what the contact to is doing to him. He grasps her tightly and hugs the stranger to offer comfort while their mouths smoothly roll over each other. And she sighs into his arms, relaxing at his touch, awkward as they both lean into the empty space between the seats. And he can't remember feeling farther from himself or his life at any moment. And he focuses on his hands on her sides and in a swift motion, she is on his side of the car and he doesn't know how, but they haven't disconnected their mouths and his hands immediately go to her legs to feel for himself to smoothness he had seen there minutes earlier. Just one hurried heartbeat between them.

And suddenly he pulls back embarrassed because he tastes the tears he has been shedding and wipes his face. And she's watching him startled and brings her own hands to her face. And he realizes she was the one who was crying. And he thinks it's for him. That she has crawled into his mind and his deepest fears and taken them on as her own. And he can't stop himself from leaning in and kissing them off of her face and she smiles, and she looks at him in a way he doesn't recognize. Lightness in her smile; awe in her eyes. And he feels the gentle pressure of her fingers on the back of his neck and he's being drawn in again.

His lips are millimeters from hers and she begins to whisper, "I need y..."

He leans closer to her mouth to hear the words slip through and as quickly as it began, a sharp noise forces them away from the window.

BAM, BAM! A fist knocking on the window. A bright light shining on their faces and he's suddenly embarrassed and pulls her shirt down, not exactly knowing how it got pushed up, and she's back in her seat before he can register the words being yelled at them.

"Get a room!"

His mouth is ajar and he feels the car lurch forward as he reaches clumsily for his seatbelt. He looks over to her, still gasping for air. Straightening her skirt nervously and then reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

His cheeks are flushed pink and he's worried because she isn't looking at him or saying anything. Then he feels guilty for pushing his pain on her, and in a fleeting moment forgets the phone call he was supposed to be making.

"Anyone expecting you?" she asks heavily.

Certainly not what he was expecting. He shakes his head but she can not see. "No," he manages. "You?" he says, less confident than he'd ever admit.

"No one," she says and finally turns to him and smiles. And her hand reaches over to his leg and she rests it there. His hand finds hers and he gently rubs his thumb on her open palm. She's asking for permission. He's offering reassurance. It's okay. We don't have to... Is what he wants to say. Her fist is slowly closing on his touch and his resolves are melting. His mind is slowly starting to think clearly again and pain slowly starts reappearing.

He stops the thoughts coming to the surface and wraps his fingers around hers. She smiles without facing him and he closes his eyes and focuses on her thumb gently rubbing his hand.

•••

"I'll pay you back," she says when he opens the door for her.

"No need."

"I just didn't want to go in there."

He smiles. "I probably wouldn't have let you anyway."

She grabs his hand that is offered to her and steps out of the Jeep. She doesn't let go, and he's not sure he ever wants her to.

"I feel sleazy," he says, as she leads him towards the building.

She turns around and faces him, stopping their progress. "Have you ever done this before?"

He gives her a stern look. "No. No way."

She smiles. "Me either. And that's why it's not sleazy."

He cocks his head, in a move that shows he doesn't exactly agree with the logic.

"Okay it's a little sleazy," she concedes. She thinks he about to turn back to the car so she pulls him closer. "It's okay."

Her words somehow soothe him. It still feels a little awkward to be kissing her, but she's so inviting, he leans in gently and lightly grazes her lips. "We really don't have to," he whispers.

She laughs out loud then and pulls him towards the building. "What room?" she asks, humor still in her voice.

"Seven," he says, following closely behind her.

•••

She hasn't wasted any time, as the delightful knowledge of the only pain he feels is the doorknob against his back floats around his subconscious. And it's totally worth it.

"I don't usually do this," she manages.

"Me either," he gasps.

The room is a terrible pink that is so painful to look at neither open their eyes for very long.

The only light in the room comes from the parking lot lights that gently break through the dirty window treatments. Her hands are floating lightly down his still-damp neck, chill bumps rising at her touch. She has definitely gotten to him, and she pulls at his belt loops to bring him closer. He can feel the rain that has transferred to her shirt from his.

Without breaking contact, he leads her from the door to the illuminated bed, just feet behind them. She sits as her knees hit the back of the bed, forcing them apart. She puts her hands underneath his damp shirt, peeling it up from his stomach. Her hands smooth the hair there and he fights the urge to join her as he watches her lean in and kiss beside his belly button. She's pushing his shirt up farther, until her arms are completely extended, and he takes over from there, raising the shirt above his head, in the one last move that makes this official.

She follows suit with her own shirt, as he shivers. A blissful mix of the teasing feeling from the lack of contact and excitement.

"I'm really glad I found you," she says hoarsely.

"I'm really glad you saved me," he returns, as they make eye contact for the first time since entering the room.

She smiles at this and he no longer can stand there watching her. He leans down and kisses her hard, placing his knees on either side of her.

She awkwardly pulls at his pants as she scoots back on the bed, bringing him with her.

•••

Their bodies are completely entwined as they lay there, holding onto each other tightly. He can hear her gentle breathing, relaxed and deep. He knows she's still asleep, as most normal people are at this hour. He gently runs his hand up and down her back, treasuring the last few minutes of their time together. He knows he has to go soon. Back to Stars Hollow. Back to his life.

He sighs deeply, and as if she knows, she snuggles closer to him. He closes his eyes and fights the tears from falling, thinking of how awkward it would be if she woke up and found him in tears.

His mind drifts to her. Wondering if they'll ever meet again. If this chance encounter was planned by something bigger than pure coincidence. He feels a gentle kiss on his neck, and knows that she's awake. But doesn't say anything, both staying still for a few minutes more.

And what he doesn't say is "Thank you", even though they're words that scream from every corner of his body.

For helping him forget, but almost more importantly, giving him another reason to live.