WARNING: The fic you are about to read is very crazy and very, very AU. Yet it amuses me. I've decided, with the aid of lukelaiandroryndean, that everything in the world is divided into two categories for me- amusing and irritating.
This fic was created in my mind very early in the morning as I lay awake, afflicted by jet lag. (Yes, this means the idea was formulated back in August.) Get ready for the shocker- it's not a What in the World If? fic like my other ones. Hold on, I'll get the smelling salts. I know, it shocks me too. But hey, what can you do with jet lag? You go crazy. One morning I woke up at 2:30 and made pasta.
It's a one shot. It's set sometime in season four when the glorious couple isn't together. This is a Trory, by the way.
Hah! You so just fell out of your chair. Relax, I'm joking. I may be jet lagged, but I'm not certifiably insane. The glorious couple whom I speak of are, of course, Luke and Lorelai. Neither of them have significant others during this. Well, the question here is- what if a fan visited Stars Hollow? That's the AUness. in this fic, the fans decide that enough is enough, and so 'a fan' pays a little visit to the town of Stars Hollow and give those two the proverbial ice-cold-bucket in the face.
That's the weird part, and I am even thinking it's much too weird. So, here's the deal- if you want, just imagine it's YOU going to visit them, because that might be more enjoyable. I would not write one of you going to visit because, well, I don't really know you. I kinda sorta fully based the fan on myself. I am NOT conceited! But anyway, you can just think of it as a nameless fan. So, think of it however you want- I'm mainly posting it because it amuses me and I love the writing I used in here, and I can't take it out and put it in another fic, and then I would get depressed because the writing wasn't living up to its true potential, and then I'd get moody and cut off all my gorgeous hair and start wearing black and hating the world and, well, that wouldn't be much fun for anyone. So please excuse the randomness of this fic's idea.
Short self indulgence: Who else besides me, lukelaiandroryndean, and pOnDeReSqUe thinks that it sounded like Luke was rapping near the end of his roof scene at the end of the season premiere? I watched it so many times on my friend's Tivo that she actually wrestled it away from me and yelled at me, and I threw a spoon covered in caramel. "You gotta understand something, I'm in the middle! Yeah, she's your daughter, but I'm in the middle! Good, coz you been acting like you DON'T know, like you're alone in this or something! And I know you don't want my advice, but you're BOTH being dumb, and you SHOULD be talking!" Seriously, rewatch it. Then you will have slightly disturbing but very amusing images of Luke in a doorag with lots of bling, pulling MC Hammer moves and whatnot.
What time is it, kids? That's right- it's DISCLAIMING TIME! I tried to work something out with the WB where they gave me Gilmore Girls in exchange for lapdances (from both me AND pOnDeReSqUe, although I hadn't quite run the idea across her- I knew she was always up for a good lapdance). Strangely, they didn't go for it.
Shout outs, just for a change…
pOnDeReSqUe: A Laura salad? Nope, doesn't have the same ring. A Muffin's my Honeybunny society? That is the coolest hypothetical society EVER. I would so join it. McMuffins! I love it! My fics are now officially called McMuffins, people. Where's the brown spot from? Coffee? Tea? Worchester sauce? I love your imaginary rant about Barry/Luke. I love it so much, I need to name it. Priscilla. Now I can yell "Barry! Luke! Priscilla! Stella! Adrian! James Isaac Neutron!" Two bars of dark chocolate? Geez, I didn't know I had that power in me. "WHY YES, I DO KNOW I JUST COPY AND PASTED AN ENTIRE PARAGRAPH INTO THIS REVIEW!" Love that. You want to have an orgy with all parts of my fic? By all means, go ahead. Yeah, I know it's Melinda… sorry. Can't I slip up ever? Guheez.
lukelaiandroryndean: It's LASSIE! –sparkle sparkle- Call me Hanna all you want. I only eat dark chocolate when seriously provoked anyway. Dropping hints like fireworks on the 4th of July? Love the random metaphor. Love the long review, I laugh and hand you many fishsticks, and oh my geez.
BeebaBaby: Oh, your face is disappointing, be quiet, you. I josh, I really lobe you, although I might lobe the hardness just a tad more.
Izzpuppy: Woah there. Your reviews are expanding at great amounts. The words are multiplying like rabbits. I like that song. And I don't write fics on paper and then leave them in my pockets, so you're safe there. I'm sorry, did you just say you leave me short reviews? Huh, you definitely need glasses. Or new eyes. Ones that work. Poor Billy, I should've let him shuck corn with his Paw. We had to record what we ate the entire day for my human development class. It was a health obsessed thing, and everyone laughed at me when I told them I had six pieces of pizza and an éclair for breakfast. Oh boy, you are great. Here, you're higher on the totem pole. Keep doing what you're doing (analyzing my every word).
Alexiamanda: You're crazy. Keep your cheeks, I have my own. (On your face, dirty minded person.) Huh, I'm almost sad I never got my mouth washed out, because now you have all this knowledge about the taste of soaps. I absolutely love that you threw yourself a party. I am so doing that sometime. I don't have any board games, though. NONE. I know. The evils of moving. It was weird, I read Mockingbird over the summer, and after I finished it, I was told I needed to read it for school. Coincidence? I think not.
oywidapoodles: I know what you mean… when I went to England, I watched The Pacifier two times in a row to get the LG fix in (that crazy Brit country doesn't have Gilmore). Two times! I had to mentally plaster Luke's face on Vin Diesel because, one, it's wrong for her to kiss anyone else, and two, ew. Vin Diesel.
Krys33: I learned to German polka! I've been forced into dance at my school. But we are not writing that polka book, because the German polka is HARD. You do this weird thing called the buzz where your feet keep changing directions and you turn but you're supposed to go in one direction. Those damn Germans.
jennalynn: I have never actually had the ice cream, I was boycotting its stupidity. I went to get it the other day, but it was GONE. I was so mad. I had a Love It pumpkin ice cream with Heath bar in a waffle bowl, though, which was good. And they had waffle cone samples on the counter, and I think I took seven.
ultimategilmoregirl: I like rolls.
jennisfifi: That's very wonderful that you make out with your husband on your non-existent couch.
candlewick866: Good point. Maybe he had a transplant or something.
MM Vermelha: Those nipples? Nuff said, man.
RougeHoney: Funny you should mention it was like a deleted scene. Because, well, that's what I wrote it as.
LLFreak8285: Sorry about your… pimples. And backwards butt.
NotSoWeirdo56, Mickey, Bloomin Daisy (my penname's explained in the last chapter of Saftey Dance actually, head on over), Baby Girl Geller-Green, orangesherbet7 (NO you may not trade, no one likes fishsticks including me so deal, hon), hermione0624, Izzpuppy, oywidapoodles, and probably more- thanks for all the fish(sticks).
Hedge Clippers are the Path to Love
Chapter One: Everybody Hits On Kirk
We start with Luke…
The bell jingled as she pushed the door open and slid into a seat at the counter. "Coffee, please," she announced.
Luke looked up. "How old are you, kid?"
"My mother told me never to disclose important information to a stranger," she informed him solemnly, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.
"I'm not giving you coffee," he said, shaking his head as he refilled the filter.
"But I'm a paying customer," reminded the girl, shaking her purse. "And, as the customer, I am always right. So if I said that I deserved coffee, it would be correct. So hand it over, buddy."
"You do remember that, as the proprietor of this establishment, I have the right to refuse service to anyone, including you. Those words too big for you?" He left the counter and began to top off people's cups. The girl jumped off her stool and followed him.
"Don't be condescending," replied the girl scathingly. "I have a very extensive vocabulary, thank you very much. And you can only refuse service for practical reasons. This is age discrimination."
"Age discrimination?"
"Yeah, you know. Like sexist, or racist. But age-ist."
"Is that a word?" Luke asked.
"How should I know?" shrugged the girl.
"You're the one with the oh-so-extensive vocabulary," said Luke. He turned back to a table, grabbing the plates. "Stop following me."
"Where you lead, I will follow."
"But I'm not going to give you coffee. You shouldn't be poisoning your body so young."
"This is a free country, and I have the right to decide when I will drink coffee. And I'm old enough to drink coffee anyway. You are obviously behind the times. You gave coffee to Rory when she was, what, 10, and take a look at me, I am most definitely older than 10. Ugh, this pot is old."
Luke turned around to see her behind the counter, sipping from a take-out cup. "Get out from behind the counter! You're not supposed to be there!"
"So where's the fun in obeying?" She calmly returned to the right side, settling herself on a stool.
"You're obviously new to this town," replied Luke dryly.
"True. I wanted to see Luke Danes throw a patented fit," she admitted, ripping open a couple packs of sugar and tossing them in her cup.
"How did you know my name?" he asked, slightly suspicious, as he clanked the plates on the dividing wall.
"Partly my magic. Partly the big sign outside saying 'Luke's Diner.'"
"Oh, that." He stuck his head through the door to the kitchen. "Ceaser, two tuna melts, one rye, one white, both no tomatoes."
"That sounds like a disgusting order. I think fish is gross. And taking away the tomatoes is just blasphemy." She took a sip from her coffee. "I think Lorelai is waiting for her burger. She seems past breaking point. She's actually initiated conversation with Kirk, which we all know is pretty desperate."
Luke turned to see Lorelai leaning over Kirk by his table. He was recoiling, as if he was scared she'd attack him or something.
"I see you've ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. Very interesting. What made you make that particular choice? Were you glancing through the menu and that certain dish just caught your eye? Did you wake up this morning and think, 'Hey, I'm in the mood for some chicken. Grilled, maybe. Perhaps I'll have it between two pieces of bread.' I'm dying to know. What made you go with chicken and not turkey? Some reports say turkey might be healthier, since the bird is more active and therefore leaner. But I don't know that much about birds or the leanness of their muscles, so don't ask any follow up questions on the matter. I'm sure it would be something easily researched on the internet, though. Have you every noticed how weird it is that you can find out such random stuff on the internet? I mean, who takes their time to write a site about turkey muscles? Don't they have anything better to do with their life? A pet, a job, even a hobby? Perhaps miniature golfing, I hear that's big with some. Or writing dark poetry with hidden double meanings." Lorelai was on a roll (no butte joke intended). "Or making mosaic tiles for the bathroom wall. Or writing old letters from the times of the Revolutionary War and then burning them. What's with that, anyway, why do people do that? No one writes letters and then whips them around their heavily-candled room, even back then. "Dear Scottie, Sorry, old bean, but I accidentaly dropped this letter onto a gas stove, which luckily burnt all the edges into a pretty crispy pattern but didn't quite reach the words themselves. Go figure!' It's insanity."
"I have a girlfriend," Kirk managed to stutter out.
"I know, Kirk. Can't I talk to you without having an ulterior motive?"
"It's never happened before."
Lorelai gasped. "That's not true. Remember five years ago when I asked you to hand me some peanut butter at the market? No ulterior motive there."
"The ulterior motive was to get the peanut butter," argued Kirk.
"Ah, but the motive wasn't hidden, it was out in the open. I came straight out with the motive. It wasn't ulterior."
"That's not what ulterior means."
"It is too!" said Lorelai, shocked. "You don't believe me? Go get a dictionary, right here, right now, let's do this, let's have this out. I'll wait."
"Can I just eat my grilled chicken sandwich, please?" he asked sharply.
"I'm not stopping you."
"You're standing within my eating space," he corrected her. "You're crowding me, I can't eat like that. I begin to hyperventilate, which causes me to choke. I'm very claustrophobic."
Lorelai backed off, her hands raised in surrender. "Excuse me, I forgot my tape measurer at home. I'll be sure to bring it next time."
"You do that," said the oblivious Kirk sternly, ripping a bite off his sandwich.
Luke grabbed the burger off the ledge where Ceaser had just laid it. "Oh, watch it," said the girl suddenly. "Miss Patty is coming in, and you're wearing the blue flannel. If you don't want to get jumped, go around the other way. Babette's over there, so she'll be going that way." The door swung open and Miss Patty waltzed in.
"Patty! Over here!" said Babette, waving the woman over vigorously.
"Hey, doll," she said, sitting down next to her. Her voice barely lowered into an audible whisper. "Take a look at Luke, I see he's gone with the blue flannel today. Can you say me-ow?"
"Oh, I could've, but those muscles have made me lose the ability to speak."
Luke turned to the girl, amazed. "If you're knew in town, like you say, how come you know so much about its workings?"
The girl looked down and clasped her hands. "Well, Luke, I have something to tell you." She took a deep breath. "I'm God."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Right."
"No, it's true," she said earnestly. "I'm using this girl's body temporarily to visit the earth because I didn't think that whole birthing-a-son-to-a-virgin gag would work twice. Finally, the day has arrived. Sinners will burn in hell while the merciful travel to my mountain up in heaven! We've gotten rid of all those pesky snakes to avoid further complications. Jesus said he would rather not be nailed to a cross again. Not that anyone would, you know what I mean? Sounds kind of painful. Glad it was him and not me! That's what sons are for, I suppose. Taking the fall for me, good on ya, Jeezy Creezy."
Luke returned from dropping off Lorelai's burger. "How very enlightening." He called back to Ceaser. "Still waiting for my tuna melts."
"Dirty," giggled the girl.
"Keep your pants on, I'm getting to it!" came back the snappy reply.
"Dirty," said the girl again.
"Hopefully before I'm in a retirement home."
"Do you think you can retire 30 years early? For me?"
"Keep going and you'll be in forced retirement sooner than you expected," called Luke.
There was a long pause. Then two plates appeared on the barrier with a clang. "Two tuna melts."
"Pleasure doing business with you, Ceaser."
"Dirty!" repeated the girl.
"Stop saying that," he snapped as he passed her and delivered the two tuna melts to a table near Kirk. "There ya go." He turned to Kirk. "Refill?"
"I have a girlfriend," Kirk replied.
"I know, Kirk, you've told me that every single time I came over to your table. Do you think I'm going to try and make a move on you?"
"Her name is Lulu."
"That's fascinating."
"Her favorite color is…"
"…lavender. I know. Her cat when she was a child was named Rainbows, her full name is Lucie, she has two sisters named Robin and Fiona, also known as Roro and Fifi, and she broke her pinky when she was seven. Did I cover it all?"
Kirk stared at him for a couple of moments, blinking. "I have a girlfriend," he said.
Luke turned back to the counter. "We're done here."
The girl had finished her first cup. She intertwined her fingers and rested her chin on them, watching Luke. "So, Lucas. Find it a little unfair that Kirk has a girlfriend and not you?"
Luke narrowed his eyes. "Silly me, I forgot your refill," he said, pouring more coffee into her cup without complaint.
"This better not be decaf," said the girl sternly, sniffing the cup distrustfully. She continued. "Anyway, as I was saying, I know this isn't something you probably want to hear, but I think the time is right to go for Lorelai."
Luke slammed the coffee pot down on the counter, droplets spraying everywhere. "Oh really? You think the time is right? A teenager who just got here and knows nothing about me or Lorelai?"
The girl ignored his maniacal outburst, being not only used to them but amused by them. "I think you should cut the low self-esteem crap. Why wouldn't she want you? Face it, she definitely likes you."
"What do you know?" he snapped.
"Watch all of season five if you don't believe me," scoffed the girl.
"What?" He was answered only with a suggestive eyebrow twitch. He sighed. "Why are you here? To get me to make a fool out of myself?"
"Actually, Luke," she said, her voice breaking, "I'm your daughter."
Luke stared at her for a few seconds. "What?" he managed to force out.
The girl kept a straight face for about one-eighth of a second before she started to laugh hysterically. "Oh, man, I so got you." She slapped the counter. "I am good. You should've seen your face. You look like Lorelai just told you she was switching to everything tofu." She snorted once, giggling manically.
Luke grunted and shook his head. "Just what this town needs, more insane people."
The girl put a hand on her heart. "Your words hurt me, Luke." She scrabbled through her purse, pulling out all sorts of junk.
"What are you doing?" he asked, as a picture of a woman with a baby, a roasted almond, and a broken dragonfly broach that now looked like a fly were added to the growing pile of junk on his counter.
She finally pulled out her wallet. "You thought you could escape from me, didn't you? Foolish purse. Dorothy's not the brightest of all wallets," she explained knowingly to Luke. The girl pulled out a dollar bill. "Keep the change. And remember what I said. She's into you. If you ask her out, it'll be worth it. Ah, ah, ah!" She abruptly cut him off as he opened his mouth. "No reply. Think about it." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Have a nice day, Luke. The pot I drank from may have been old, but the talk about your coffee sure isn't exaggerated." She grabbed her cup of coffee but, instead of leaving, she turned towards a different table.
I actually do have all that stuff in my purse. I stole the picture of the teacher off the wall at my old school- her name was Mrs. Pflieger (Fleeger) and her husband was so freaky. He worked there for summer camp, and we'd be downstairs in the music room, and there he'd be, reading his newspaper. And we'd go up to my mom's classroom and there he'd already be, reading his newspaper! It was intensely freaky. My friend started asking him questions about sheep, and he duct taped her mouth up. Then he picked her up and tried to throw her in a blow-up pool. It was very bizarre. We named him The Fleeg, and her Mrs. The Fleeg, and, sadly, they recently had a Baby The Fleeg. Poor kid. I stole the picture of Mrs. And Baby The Fleeg from the office at my school fair. Because it's nice to feel like a rebel once in a while. (And yes, pOnDeReSqUe, that's Miss Wildermuth. "Pass the nuts, David.")
The roasted almond was there too. When we went to my grandad's house in England, he roasted two bowls of almonds especially for us. Now, they were not very tasty, but I knew he'd feel bad if we didn't eat them, because the only thing he ever does for us is cook, so whenever he turned his back, I would shove a handful into my purse. I collected a very large lot, lemme tell ya, half a bowl about. A few days later, my cousin ate half of them. Go figure.
Sorry this part is so short… I'm gonna post the next part soon because- (insert shocked gasp) I actually have it already written! Geez, this fic goes against everything I know. But, see, I was planning to just post it all together at one point, so I had it written, but then I realized that gets me three times as less reviews. It's true. So I'm just doing it this way.
Anyways, please review, because reviewers not only make my day, but my week, month, and year. Yeah. Top that. And it's not all give give give- if you know me you are fully aware of the ridiculously verbose shout-outs I give to the worthy. Become the worthy, my friends. Take the plunge and leave me a fishstick.