Summary: (LL) Luke. Lorelai. Elevator. Clichés abound. Just read; you know you want to!
Notes: Okay, this is probably about the farthest from an original idea I could come up with...however, I was struck with inspiration, and, well, turns out I have an extremely low tolerance for nagging muses. Muses, which, incidentally, don't seem to like to stick around to actually let me FINISH anything longer than five chapters...woops, got a little distracted there. Anyway, by fault of aforementioned muses, this probably won't be any longer than three chapters or so. Now, enough with the rambling and enter the wonderful world of JavaJunkiness!
Setting: Lorelai and Luke aren't together yet. That's really all you need to know!
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Oy with the disclaimers already! I don't own Gilmore Girls or "Love in An Elevator" by Aerosmith...or the quote I tweaked slightly for said disclaimer.
Love In an Elevator
Chapter One: Mr. Fix It
"Thank you SO much for doing this, Luke. You have no idea how much it means to me." Lorelai Gilmore said for the millionth time as she walked with Luke Danes up the stairs of the Dragonfly Inn's front porch. It probably wasn't really the millionth time. It just seemed like it to Luke in his heightened state of aggravation, due to losing nearly an hour of sleep to wake up for an "early" shipment that wound up not getting in until after seven.
"Really? Because I think the last, oh, fifty times you've thanked me might have been a giveaway." Luke deadpanned, making his way inside the inn, his toolbox, affectionately named Bert - by Lorelai, not Luke, as he would never actually call an inanimate object by a name - firmly in hand.
"Luuke." She turned to him and made a pouty face.
"You're welcome," He said grudgingly.
The frown disappeared from her face immediately, to be replaced by a large grin. "That's better. Now, to the reason you're here." She said, motioning toward the recently installed elevator a few feet from where they were standing.
"I still don't see the reason why you had this thing put in anyway. It wouldn't kill people to go up one flight of stairs," He said grumpily.
"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. You get to fix something. You like fixing things."
"I do?"
"Yes," She said firmly, no discussion.
"Okay, then, goody." The sarcasm was evident in his voice, but Lorelai ignored it. "So, what exactly is it I get to do?"
"Fix it."
"I know that, we covered it on the phone. What is it about it that needs fixing?" Luke asked with dwindling patience.
"I'm not really sure. It's making a noise."
"Like?" He prompted.
"Monkeys on meth."
Luke blinked. "You wouldn't possibly have a more...mechanical description, would you?"
"Well, I could try to make the noise..." She took a deep breath, but Luke held up a hand to stop her.
"You know what, how about I just listen to it myself?" He said, stepping toward the elevator, but Lorelai rushed to block his entrance, nearly colliding with him in the process.
"You can't do that," She said, ignoring the fierce butterflies that spontaneously fluttered to life at this proximity to his body.
"And why is that, exactly?"
He stepped back a couple feet and Lorelai could feel the relief coursing through her, along with an ever-so-tiny smidgen of disappointment, though she wasn't quite sure why. It shouldn't matter to her one way or the other how close she and Luke were; they were just friends. Or if nothing else, coffee supplier and suppliee - if suppliee was even a word.
She looked at him like his elevator didn't go quite to the top. "You could die! The engine could explode! The cable could snap and you would fall! Or-"
"We're on the ground level; I wouldn't fall very far," Luke, ever the logical one, said, but Lorelai hardly heard him. She was on a roll now.
"...noise could be some switchy lever thing, and when you pressed the button, it could shoot you through the roof! I mean-"
"Lorelai!"
She stopped.
"I'm going in. And I promise you, there will be no explosions or shootings. It probably just needs some oil."
She sighed, melodramatic. "All right. But I'm coming with you. And don't blame me when we're blown to smithereens."
"I won't," He said, in a voice like he was placating a temperamental child.
He stepped toward the elevator again, and this time nothing stopped him. Instead, his former roadblock trailed behind, albeit hesitantly.
"Luke?"
He paused. "Yes?"
"Do you think you could leave your toolbox out here? The extra weight could cause the cable to snap or something."
Luke wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or roll his eyes. He settled on a shrug, and set the toolbox right outside the doors. He wouldn't need it until he discovered what was making the noise, anyway.
"Luke?"
He was now fully inside, and she was standing on the outside, hand outstretched.
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please with a cherry and chocolate syrup and-"
"All right." He reached out his hand to help her across. As their hands touched, an unwanted frission of something shot up her arm, and Lorelai started to regret her action. She wasn't really afraid of the elevator, per say; she just wanted to annoy Luke. It was fun to annoy Luke.
But that frission hadn't been of annoyance.
She withdrew her hand from his as soon as she had crossed the threshold. Not too hastily, since that might seem weird, but a nice, casual withdrawal. "Thanks."
He grunted in response, pushed a button, and they watched the doors slide closed in front of them.
As the elevator gently started its ascent, an awful squealing, scraping noise arose from a mysterious region beneath the floor. They had only been rising for approximately five or six seconds when the elevator came to an abrupt, grinding halt.
"Oh my God," Lorelai said.
TBC...
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