PG-13. I do not own these characters or lyrics.
For TWOP ficathon Soundtrack Challenge: 'I Found Love' by Free Design
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"I still can't believe you let your mother choose your dress!" said Sookie in amazement.
Lorelai sighed her agreement. "I can't believe it, either. But it's not like I really had a choice. The thing is though," she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "I can't believe how much I really, really love this dress, damn it."
Sookie nodded. her understanding, "It's gorgeous."
"I know," said Lorelai glumly.
"I mean, you really look fantastic, Lorelai. Like Natalie Wood. Only taller." And then, with added sympathy, "Boy, that must suck for you."
"Yep."
"So, is everyone out there?" Sookie asked by way of subject change.
Lorelai peeked out onto the back lawn of the Inn, glowing with twinkling lights in the warm late summer night. The Chuppah, specially lit, was dripping with silver roses and lilies. She imagined for a moment that she could smell them wafting across the lawn and through the screen. Some guests were still mingling, though most were already seated in neat rows waiting.
"Looks like it,' she responded to Sookie's question. "Man, my parents know a lot of people," she groused.
"Well, so do you," said her supportive friend.
"And I think they're all here too."
"Well, you couldn't leave anybody out of the biggest social event of the year."
"Guess not," agreed Lorelai. "And it's totally worth it to see Taylor's toupee again," she decided.
"Dusted it off for the big night did he?" asked Sookie in amusement, as she sorted an enormous mound of flowers before her. She turned quickly to Lorelai then as a realization hit her, "Promise me you won't fixate on it as you go down the aisle and make me laugh?" she pleaded.
Lorelai smiled as she continued looking out the window, "Now that, my friend, is just asking too much."
"Your mother will kill you. And besides, you wouldn't want to hurt Taylor's feelings."
Lorelai sighed, "When you're right, you're right," she conceded.
She cocked her head then to listen: The quintet on the porch continued to play dreamy chamber music which echoed out through the trees and into the night. She tapped her toe a little as she listened.
"Gatsby himself couldn't have done better."
"Well, you know your mother... only the best..." agreed Sookie as she came over to peer out as well. "It's beautiful, though. Like a fairy tale," she sighed.
"Mom!" said Rory as she joined them at the bottom of the stairs. "Are you ready?"
She took a deep breath before turning to answer her daughter, "As I'll ever be! Where's your Grandmother?"
"Run stocking. She's changing it now," was the answer.
"Emily!" Lorelai crossed to yell up the stairs. "Get the lead out! The minister is waiting!"
"Do not shout at me, Lorelai!" snapped Emily as she emerged at the head of the staircase smoothing her long skirt. "He can just jolly well wait..." she continued as she descended the stairs. "All the money I've donated to that church over the years!... Not to mention that ridiculous Rose Window your father insisted on putting up in honor of his mother... And the improvements I personally oversaw at the parsonage hall..."
"Mom!" she barked to make it stop.
"What, Lorelai?!"
"You look great." And then she smiled at her mother with affection.
The two women eyed each other at the foot of the stairs for a moment. Emily's lips twitched a bit, but was damned if she was going to smile, no matter how thrilling the occasion.
"Well, thank you," she managed instead. "You look beautiful, too."
"Good girl, Mom. Very polite," laughed Lorelai at Emily's characteristic demeanor.
"All three of the Gilmore women look fabulous!" gushed Sookie enthusiastically as she handed out their respective armsful of fragrant white lilies.
"You look pretty too, Sookie!" added Rory and then buried her nose deeply into the flowers. "Mmm... Wonderful," she breathed.
"Okay, ladies," Lorelai turned to them, taking charge, "Last chance to hop a UPS truck: Any takers? No? Okay. Anyone need to use the facilities? Because I'm not turning around once we get out there..."
"Lorelai, your irritating comedic monologue is only contributing to my nervousness," sighed Emily.
"Right. Well, we better be off then. Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!"
"Ooo! Do I have time before the procession to check the cake one more time?" asked Sookie quickly.
"No!" the Gilmores barked in unison before heading out the door to the accompanying voluntary.
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Well, the first part, the difficult part, was over.
And the women seemed pleased, Luke noted from his place of relative safety on the sidelines.
He'd had to step away after the ceremony for a moment. The congratulatory crowd had just been too much and not what he wanted to deal with at all. Time alone with Lorelai, now that the deed was done, that's what he wanted. Not much he could do about that now but wait it out though, he decided in resignation. Besides, she looked so happy tonight–thrilled even. And that alone had been worth all the complications.
These things really were all about the women, he supposed, anyway. He eyed the crush of people that had now moved on to the bar. Man, he could use a drink. Unwilling to brave the crowd, he continued to stew on the events at hand: First of all, too damn many wedding things this past year or so to suit him. Well, only three, he admitted silently, but that was still too many.
And secondly, why do these things always have to be so fancy and stiff? He couldn't remember even half the dramatic vows and sugary blessings that over-dressed minister spouted. If he'd had his way, these things would be conducted privately. Out of public view. Simply. With simple words and promises. That's all that anyone needed really. But women will have it otherwise, he grumped to himself.
And why couldn't everyone be in more comfortable clothes? And shoes? He'd had to buy new shoes, his last pair too gummed up by old polish. And these over-priced products of sweatshop labor he was wearing now were pinching and rubbing in particularly diabolical ways. He should never have let Lorelai take him to get shoes...
And where was she, anyway? No way he was going to enjoy this without her.
He looked about the milling crowd; a large group of the Gilmore's rich friends, the usual crazies of Stars' Hollow.... Most were still at the bar, guzzling away (Oh well, there was a certain satisfaction in how much that had set Richard back.) Many others were filling their plates at the lavishly laden tables. And finally, some were happily dipping their glasses in at the ridiculous champagne fountain in the gazebo.
He turned his attention then to the enormous dance orchestra taking their places at the rented stage and concert shell Emily had insisted upon, and snorted ruefully with the knowledge that he'd have to get out there on that vast specially laid dance floor and make a spectacle of himself before the night was over...
But then, at last, he saw her....
And that changed how he felt right away.
His breath caught as he looked across the tables and sighted her bare shoulders, where she stood towering merrily over the other women. He wondered illogically for a moment if he'd ever really seen her before. He furrowed his brow at the thought. Of course he had. But 'not really seen before this moment' was also true. No, not really, he decided. Not really seen her. Not really at all. Not like this. But there she was now. And she was incredibly... well, beautiful. He wasn't a poetic guy... he wasn't one for forming the right words for things: But... had he ever really seen her before?
He watched her laugh and put a long arm around Babette's shoulders.
Her arm... it looked sort of shiny to him. Smooth. Like something he wanted to touch. Of course he had touched her arm before. A thousand times probably over the years. But this time, right now... He really wanted, no, needed, to touch that arm. He wiggled his fingers unconsciously. Itching to run just the tips up and down both those bare arms... He breathed in deeply, indulging himself in the tingling thought of it. After grazing her arms lightly with his fingers, he'd open his hands wide to run the sensitive palms up and down as well, following the path of his fingers... Then he'd rub softly up and down too, and finally just comb his fingers out into her hair....
Just thinking about that was... affecting him.
Now, her hair was something else, he reflected then, as he continued to watch her.
He really liked hair. All hair. The feel of it in his hands, between his fingers. He knew, self consciously, that whenever he got hugs, which admittedly wasn't that often as he was old and running a diner in a small town, (and wasn't really a huggy guy, anyway.) But whenever he did get them, from whomever, his hands always found a way to their hair. And her's was wild and wonderful and always sort of a mess... In fact, he'd like to touch it right now...
And then suddenly he couldn't wait until later, when they could dance, like they had before at his sister's wedding. He could hold her then. And feel those smooth arms and smell that sort of tangerine kind of smell she had in her hair. And it would be okay then—Sanctioned, their dancing. Encouraged even. And she'd be away from all those women who were corralling her off from him now...
She looked up and met his eyes then, breaking into his thoughts and plans and feelings with her smile.
And he wondered for the briefest of seconds if maybe she'd even heard his thoughts.
He plunged his hands into his pockets at the idea.
But that was crazy. Of course she'd felt him staring at her. That's why she'd looked up. Probably everyone had, seen him that is. He'd practically been drooling. Idiot, he mentally shook himself. Geez, you're over forty, Danes, and it's just Lorelai, he chided inwardly. So he swallowed (hard) and responded in kind to her smile.
"Hey, Luke." He turned his head to the voice.
"Oh hey, Kirk," he shifted uncomfortably.
"Shouldn't you be over there with Lorelai?"
"It's a little crowded right now. And her mother wants us to circulate," he responded in resignation.
"This sure is some swanky affair. I had no idea the Gilmores were this rich!" remarked the younger man as he looked about in awe. "There's fifty pounds of steak tartar over there. And they've got a carved ice bowl full of caviar the size of your head!"
"What's your point, Kirk?" asked Luke in irritation, his feet hurting again.
"You're well in there, old man," Kirk commented in an exaggerated undertone, then he nudged Luke meaningfully in the ribs with his elbow.
"I'm going to the bar now, Kirk," said Luke before he walked away.
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She almost hugged herself.
In fact, she did a little.
Tonight was wonderful really. The way it should be after the long summer of ups and downs. And here she was now, so happy. And Luke was happy too she knew, whatever he said about his shoes and all the fuss. And Rory was doing better and her parents were happier than she'd seen them in years. And she just felt so... well, light!
And she hadn't even hit the silly champagne fountain yet. (Pretentious or Tacky? She couldn't decide.) Oh well, she was gonna drink heartily whatever verdict she eventually hit on.
But the best thing (the thing tingling down her spine even now) was the heightened awareness that he was watching her.
Of course their eyes had immediately locked the minute she stepped down the aisle (and she'd delighted in his pleasure over how she looked.) But even since the ceremony's completion, amid the buzz of well wishers pulling and pushing them in different directions, they had managed to continue watching one another. She slightly more slyly, perhaps. Both, oddly, a little shy.
So she'd talked and joked with the endless group of people who flowed around her, but at the same time was hyper-aware of him circling the edges of the activity. And of him watching her. Of him going to the bar in his frustration at being parted from her. Of him trying to evade Kirk and Taylor and Michel even. Of him wanting to be gone from this crush of activity but, above all, of him wanting her and enduring it all...
For her.
Poor guy she thought, and smiled. He's not getting rid of me now, though.
Finally the crowd ebbed a bit and she spotted him seated at one of the tables near the orchestra, alone, waiting for her. She met his eyes and smiled and finally began heading toward him, feeling relieved at being able to do so...
"Lorelai!" Her mother stepped into her path and stopped her.
"Yes, Mom?" She craned her neck, vainly trying to reinstate eye contact with Luke.
"Pay attention, Lorelai, you're being rude."
"Sorry."
"What is over on that table on the porch?" Emily hissed at her quietly, lest the guests overhear.
Lorelai followed her pointed gaze, "Those are wrapped gifts, Mother."
"I know they are wrapped gifts, Lorelai. But what are they doing there?"
"Well, I assume people brought them, Mom. It's traditional for an event like this to give a gift."
"Don't be patronizing, Lorelai. I know it's traditional," said Emily in irritation. "But people should send their gifts, not deliver them at the actual event like some sort of charity function." Emily turned her head quickly then to smile warmly at a passing couple, "Biddy! So glad you came! Love the Chanel!"
"Well, Mom," Lorelai whispered through her own plastered smile, "Apparently not everyone got the Miss Manners Memo on that. Just let it be. Try to enjoy yourself. Where's Dad?"
"He's over at the bar with all the other men," observed Emily petulantly.
"Look," Lorelai deliberately lightened her tone and smiled at her mother, "Why don't you go get him and sit down at a table. I'll find a waiter to bring you some plates of food. You two can have a quiet moment together."
"I don't know if I should abandon our guests like that..." doubted Emily.
"Oh, I think the guests will be much more at ease if you are. At ease, that is," wheedled Lorelai. "Besides, you and Dad should enjoy yourselves tonight."
"Well, I suppose you're right," agreed Emily. "Richard!" she called, and was off to claim him.
Lorelai scanned for a waiter but not before smiling apologetically at Luke who was now seated in the crossfire of Taylor and Kirk's animated conversation.
He looked clearly disappointed that she wasn't heading over to rescue him, and drained his second scotch.
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So it wasn't until later, after she'd sent her parents plates of food and Rory to organize a more strategic placing of the gifts, ('Out of Emily's sight so that she'll get her panties out of the clench,' had been her careful direction to her daughter,) and, after politely suffering the fawnings of Patty and Babette over her gown, did she finally reach Luke's side.
He stood and turned to her as soon as he was aware that she was behind his chair.
"Hey." he smiled at her in evident relief.
"Hey to you too," she smiled and leaned in to take both his hands in hers. "The music is starting. Wanna dance?" she flirted.
"It seems appropriate for the occasion," he concurred, surreptitiously drinking in her smooth skin.
"Lorelai! Lorelai!"
Lorelai groaned and released Luke's hands to turn to her approaching father.
"What do you need, Dad?" she smiled as genuinely as she could.
Luke thrust his hands into his pockets again and looked down.
"Your mother and I would like to take to the stage now to make a special toast. I need everyone to gather," said Richard importantly, taking her arm and guiding her forward. "Come along, Luke, there's a good fellow," he called over his shoulder. "Now, where's Rory? Oh, there she is! Rory! Come over here, dear!"
And so Luke followed quietly behind.
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As toasts went it wasn't that long really. Just pompous, though well-meant, he supposed.
To Luke though the whole thing was an eternity.
When at last it was over and the crowd had swelled over him like the ocean he felt them to be (he smiling and nodding as politely as he was able,) he finally felt a cool hand slip into his.
He turned to look at her, his blood pressure raising. Huh. Weird that it should also make him feel sort of peaceful at the same time. Well, whatever. It felt good.
"I found you," she smiled in triumph.
He felt a lightening then of all the bother that had gone before and clasped her hand tighter.
"I'm not letting go of you again tonight," he told her meaningfully.
"Good. Because 'Oy, with the being charming and chatting already!' Let's go dance!" And she led him onto the already crowded floor.
Once there though he stopped her with a look before she slipped into his arms.
Maybe it was the scotch he'd tossed back while waiting for her. And watching her. He didn't know or care...
But, 'Now,' he thought.
And, 'Finally.'
"Just a minute," he said and lifted his hands to her collar bone. Her eyes widened with curiosity and she crooked a little smile in anticipation...
He rested the tips of his fingers ever so lightly at the base of her throat and then proceeded to draw them out along her skin, lightly tracing the line of her bare shoulders...
She shuddered a little, tipped her head back a bit, and closed her eyes, giving into the sensation, only dimly aware now of the oblivious couples rotating around them...
Slowly, lightly, Luke's fingers continued... they grazed down her arms, tracing and tingling down, and down some more---just inside her elbows, then just inside her wrists, then just inside her palms...
They both caught their breath then and his fingers stilled.
Lorelai waited, eyes still closed, until Luke opened his palms to meet hers, then began a slight rubbing back up her long smooth arms, a little rougher now, but still wonderful to both, until his hands reached her shoulders again and slipped back to the base of her neck....
She felt a warm thrill spread throughout her being then as he finally, after the briefest hesitation, combed his fingers out through her hair...
And just when she let out the softest of moans, it was over.
She opened her eyes and looked into his darkened pupils.
The tingle of this intimate public touching crackled between them, though Luke's hands lay at his sides once more.
"I've been wanting to do that all night," he told her huskily.
"Really? Badly enough to do it on the dance floor?" she returned with an amused smile.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, uninhibited by the sharpness of his arousal between them.
"Yes," he whispered into her ear, starting the tingling all over again.
"Hmm... glad I went with the strapless dress after all," she murmured with a sigh.