Claustrophobia
By Steph (awriter78@hotmail.com)
Summary--A short little piece about Luke on a cruise. Post-finale, but non-spoiler..
Dedicated to my kick-ass PIC, ToughFluff, for reading my fic, listening to me ramble, answering my idiotic Alias questions and for agreeing to be my future Amazing Race teammate.
This is also dedicated to Clown Jon, because I like him and the way he breaks boards. Dedicated to Al too, because he's so stable.
Any second now he'll say something.
Right now they are in her car on their way to Canada and she is humming along with some god-awful show tune and the air conditioner is making a lot of weird noises and the car behind them is honking, because Nicole drives aggressively and she won't let them pass.
Even though the car is stuffy and the smell of her perfume is making him feel slightly lightheaded, he remains silent. He focuses on the map and only breaks his silence to occasionally give her curt directions. He has to remind himself that he likes Nicole, maybe even loves her and any hostility he is feeling right now has nothing to do with her.
"Is this the exit we want?" Nicole asks.
"Next one," he responds tersely. He turns to face the window, to place his forehead against the glass. His head is killing him.
"Okay," Nicole says. She turns the tape off and looks straight ahead. He turns back to face her and can see how hurt she is.
He should say something. Apologize for acting like such a jackass. He should tell her that he's sorry.
But he doesn't.
He thought it was bad in the car, bad in the bed-and-breakfast in Canada, but that was nothing compared to the cruise.
It is the first night there and he is sitting down in the locked bathroom. He is clad only in his boxers, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. His hair feels damp.
Nicole is outside their cabin's bathroom, pacing nervously. Every few seconds she asks him in a high, worried voice if she can get him something, if she wants him to fetch the ship's doctor. If he doesn't answer she gets worried, so he tells her that he is fine, that all he needs is a little peace. His words are harsh, meant to hurt, but his voice is hoarse and the locked door is thick, so she continues pacing.
When he first felt sick, he lied to Nicole, telling her that this was his first cruise, that the combination of the rolling water and the rich, oversalted buffet food, did him in. He tells her that after a good night sleep and a day of eating carefully, he'll be more fun. He tells her that once he gets used to the rocking motion and eats a little more carefully, his stomach will settle and he'll stop throwing up. He promises that he'll join her for all the "fun and games and leisure activities" that the overpriced cruise has to offer.
What he should tell her is that he hates mingling, hates people coming up to them and introducing themselves, asking personal questions, forcing him to answer through gritted teeth that his name is Luke, he's from Connecticut and he runs a diner. He and Nicole have been dating awhile, yes she is a pretty little thing, yes he is lucky to have met her.
What he should tell her is that he's not sure of this relationship, not sure if he even loves her, not sure if they should continue seeing each other.
But he doesn't.
He wakes up the next morning feeling slightly better. Sure, Nicole, he'll shower and shave, put on that nice light blue cotton shirt that is so much nicer than that boring everyday flannel. Sure Nicole, he'll go with you to breakfast and choke down a piece of toast and some fruit.
When she asks why he isn't eating more, he's honest for the first time during the trip and tells her that the food is too salty, too fatty. She looks down at the omelet she had been previously eating with gusto and seems embarrassed.
After the meal, they take a walk and she opens up the day's schedule. She is interested in taking a juggling seminar.
"Juggling?" he asks incredulous. He can't help but smile.
"Juggling," she repeats returning his smile. "You know if the whole being a lawyer thing doesn't work out, I can always join the circus. Juggle, ride an elephant, date a clown."
The thought of straitlaced Nicole joining the circus makes him laugh and she links her arm with his.
"There," she said. "You're smiling. Looks like you don't hate me after all."
No he doesn't.
The water is absolutely beautiful. He stares at it awhile and fights the urge to dive in. Don't get him wrong, he's not suicidal. He doesn't want to sink to the bottom; he wants to swim. Swim away from these people, swim away from Nicole.
He suddenly misses home, misses Lorelai and Rory, who are probably having a great time in Europe, even misses his no-good nephew who is probably living it up in California. Living it up or in jail.
He takes one last long look at the ocean. Closing his eyes, he can smell it, can imagine jumping in. All this cruise has is a dinky little pool full with grubby little kids who are probably peeing to their hearts content.
He opens his eyes forcing himself to look away from the intense blue of the water. He still has an urge to jump in and swim.
He has learned over the years to fight urges. He has always told himself that it's better to play it safe.
One last look at the ocean over his shoulder. He really wants to jump.
But he doesn't.
The last night of the cruise they dress up. Luke in a nice shirt and pants, Nicole in some sheer pink thing. They go to the ship's fancy restaurant. She seems different, nervous, fiddling with her dress, her hair. She scrutinizes his every move, every word he shares with the overbearing waiter. Waiting for something.
"What?" he finally asks.
She smiles a shaky smile and asks, "Are you okay? You've seemed so anxious lately. Is there something up? Maybe something you want to share?" She smiles, more knowing, more hopeful this time and suddenly everything clicks for him.
Lorelai was right. Nicole is expecting a proposal. A ring. A bottle of champagne.
He bites his lip, feeling sick again. This is wrong. He can't do it. Not with her.
She smiles again, this time looking confident, excited. She seems so sure that he's waiting for the perfect moment…the perfect romantic moment that they will one day tell their grandchildren about …the perfect moment to pull out the ring, get down on one knee and ask her to be his wife. She seems so sure that tonight he will propose.
But he doesn't.
The End
