Crazy For You
by LushBaby
Summary: It's Prom night and Grace feels insecure. Can Luke show her that he loves the real Grace and will she believe him?
Rating: R for language
The lyrics are Madonna's, the story mine. The characters are Barbara's.
A/N: A one-shot inspired by Alexandri's Starting Over (which you MUST read, because it's good, not because you need to read it first) when Luke is speechless when he sees Grace in her prom dress. Some may find Luke a little OOC but I think that when he gets riled up he'd probably be a very formidable figure. Anyway, R&R please and let me know what you think.
A/N 2: I'm having trouble keeping to one POV, let me know if it's confusing.
Crazy for You
He'd been gawking at her ever since she'd come downstairs from Joan's room and shyly shown off her new look, courtesy of Joan and her damn make-up. At first it was flattering; Grace's usual look didn't earn any admiring glances, something for which she was profoundly thankful. Still, it was nice to see Luke so gob-smacked by her temporary transformation. But now, here at the dance hours later, and he could still just gape and murmur "Grace, you're beautiful," she was becoming annoyed.
"Listen, Geek-boy. Enough already with the requisite Prom-night rhetoric. I'm lookin' good, you're lookin' good. Let's just get over it and dance." Exasperated, she pulled Luke onto the dance floor. Three fast songs later, as the strains of a romantic duet filled the room, Luke drew her into his arms. She raised her own to encircle his neck, her fingertips playing softly with the crisp, blond hairs on the back of his head. Luke murmured and dropped his head to rest on her shoulder.
"Grace, you are so completely hot tonight," Luke didn't notice that Grace had stiffened in his embrace. "You came downstairs and ---I mean, you're so beauti---"
Grace pushed herself out of his arms, thoroughly pissed off now. "Right, that's it! This fiasco is over." She stormed out of the hotel ballroom, not bothering to collect her wrap, and out into the cool May night. Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled through the parking lot, intent on getting home somehow before she lost it completely.
He just didn't get it. Hell, she didn't even get it. Why was she so upset when he spent the evening complimenting her? 'Maybe,' a little voice inside her head said, 'it's because you don't think you're worthy of such attention.'
"Oh, shut up," she muttered, stumbling slightly in her unaccustomed high heels. That stupid little voice never said anything anyone actually wanted to hear, did it? A lone tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away violently.
Joan and Adam had looked up when they heard Grace's angry voice. They watched in amazement as Grace stormed out and left Luke standing there, looking bewildered and embarrassed.
"Oh-oh, now what?" Joan asked Luke as she and Adam joined Luke on the dance floor.
"God knows," he replied in a perplexed tone as they made their way to their table.
"Please tell me you weren't telling her again how great she was looking tonight." Joan asked as they sat down.
"Yeah, of course. I mean, she is so ...." Luke trailed off, unwilling to share with his sister just how Grace had affected him tonight. Seeing her come down the stairs, he couldn't believe it was Grace. That dress clung in all the right places, making Luke's tuxedo trousers uncomfortably tight in the wrong place all night. The light touch of cosmetics had brought out Grace's eyes and her normal sardonic grin had been replaced with a shy, but genuine smile—something he's seen so rarely that he'd treasured every one. Christ, was he ever going to understand Grace?
"So I complimented her. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
"But Luke, don't you get it? You overdid it. Now Grace is thinking that she was a total dog until tonight. I mean she may not act like it but Grace has a real problem with self-esteem. And with you just going on and on about how great she looked tonight---" Joan broke off as Luke stood suddenly, causing his chair to overturn with a thud on the carpeted floor.
"Fuck! Doesn't she get it?" Luke face was white-hot with anger, his hands with their long slender fingers clenched at his side. One hand unclenched long enough to scrub through his hair, making it stick up in its usual way. "I'm outta here. I'm going to find Grace and stop this bullshit once and for all." Ignoring Joan and Adam's shocked looks, Luke strode out into the parking lot, his eyes sweeping the crowded area, and not seeing Grace, he went to the car and started slowly cruising the streets. Five minutes later, he caught sight of her a block ahead, walking slowly, her bobbed blonde head down as she focused her eyes on the uneven pavement.
"Get in the car, Grace." Luke voice was low and even. He'd stopped the car and was half out of the driver's seat, one hand on the roof of the vehicle and the other on the door.
"Bite me." Grace continued walking and then two seconds later gasped as she felt his hand on her arm. He spun her around to face him. His face was white, with an even paler ring around his tight lips. His eyes blazed at her.
"Get in the god-damn car, Grace. I'm not taking no for an answer."
Although his face and body language said he was furious, his tone was calm—deadly calm. Grace looked at him for a moment before nodding slightly and getting in the car. Normally she wouldn't take that crap from anyone, but Luke looked so different, so determined and in control—and so thoroughly incensed—that she thought she'd better acquiesce to his demand. They sat silently as he drove through Arcadia; she recognized the route. He was taking her home.
Good,' she though childishly, 'now this crappy night can end.'
Luke pulled up in front of her house and walked around to open her door.
"Get out," he said and Grace realized his anger had not abated one bit. They walked into the empty house and Luke led the way up to her bedroom. She watched open-mouthed as he opened drawers and her closet, pulling out clothes and then throwing them on the bed. "Put those on."
"What! Listen geek, if you think--"
"Put them on. I won't watch, but I'm not leaving the room." Luke turned his back and waited. Grace looked at his unyielding, rigid back encased in that form-fitting tuxedo and fighting back her own rising anger, she changed into her usual black-on-black wardrobe: jeans, a vintage Jimi Hendrix tee shirt and Doc Martens.
"Go wash your face."
"Fuck you Girardi." Grace flung at him. No way was she going to just sit there and take this from him.
"Grace. Go. Wash. Your. Face." Luke's words were commanding but Grace thought she could hear something more than anger behind them. Anger yes, but also, sorrow? Regret?
"I don't know why I'm doing this," she muttered as she disappeared down the hall.
When she returned from the bathroom, all traces of make up washed away, Luke picked up the leather jacket she had been so tempted to wear tonight and threw it at her. "Come on." He motioned her out the door and downstairs.
Once in the car, he drove out to the lake, out to a spot she knew very well; they had spent much of last summer here, talking, swimming, and making out. Luke cut the headlights and got out of the car. He opened the trunk and got out the old blanket he kept there. He spread the blanket out on the ground and then opened her door for her. Grace got out slowly. Still unable to gauge his mood, she let him lead her over to the blanket and she stood there while he went back to the car and turned on the tape player. She recognized the song immediately. It was the first slow song played after she'd kissed him at the Crystal Ball. Luke had always joked that it was their song and she had always told him they had no 'song.' She watched him shrug off his tuxedo jacket and walking over to her he slowly took her in his arms and started moving rhythmically to the strains of "Crazy for You," by Madonna. She had always laughed at the fact that his "song" of theirs was some oldie that probably his parents had danced to once. Now she listened to both the words and Luke's heartbeat, both as if for the first time.
Swaying room as the music starts
Strangers making the most of the dark
Two by two their bodies become one
Grace could feel Luke's muscles through his thin tuxedo shirt as they danced. His anger seemed to have abated. She had never been afraid of Luke or what he might do to her. Although she had never seen him as angry as he was tonight, she knew, as sure as she knew her self, that Luke would never harm her, no matter what the provocation.
I see you through the smoky air
Can't you feel the weight of my stare
You're so close but still a world away
What I'm dying to say, is that
Grace let her head rest against that white shirt, his heartbeat almost drowning out the lyrics. She closed her eyes tightly, afraid that the evening's earlier tears would return to overwhelm her. Why did she always push him away? And why, for God's sake, did he always come back for more?
I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you, crazy for you
Was her reputation that important? Would being with Luke ruin everything she built—the walls that surrounded her—the façade she projected—the image she cultivated? Was that who she was, or who she pretended to be? Was there a difference? Did she care anymore?
Trying hard to control my heart
I walk over to where you are
Eye to eye we meet, no word at all
She could feel Luke's gentle caress on her back. Yes, the uncharacteristic anger was gone, leaving the sensitive boy? man? that Grace was just beginning to appreciate. She felt his cheek graze her hair and his arms tighten around her.
Slowly now we begin to move
Every breath I'm deeper into you
Soon we two are standing still in time
If you read my mind, you'll see
She started to count Luke's breathing in time to the music. Subconsciously she matched hers to his, hearing their hearts beating together. Suddenly that little voice-- the one that had surprisingly shut up when she told it to earlier—piped up again. 'He thought Prom-Grace was beautiful. He thought Prom-Grace was beautiful. He thought---' Grace squeezed her eyes closed again and willed herself to ignore the voice and concentrate instead on Luke's heartbeat.
It's all brand new, I'm crazy for you
And you know it's true
I'm crazy, crazy for you
As the song ended, he pulled away from her so he could look deeply into her eyes in the bright moonlight. Grace kept her eyes focused on the black onyx shirt stud directly in front of her. With one last caress, his right hand left her back and he brought it forward to stroke her cheek before tilting her chin upwards, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"Grace, you're so beautiful," he whispered, capturing her lips with his, for the most romantic kiss she'd ever experienced. This wasn't about sex. There were no tongues, no gasping, breathy moans, no preliminary-lets-move-on-to second base kisses. Grace knew this was a kiss of old---of star-crossed lovers, Golden Wedding anniversaries, and heartfelt pledges. It was a kiss of trust, hope, and love. It was as if his lips were the words of the song all over again.
I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you, crazy for you
And this time, Grace believed him--knew he really meant it—this was the real Grace; leather jacket, kick-ass boots, and ratty jeans— and he thought her as beautiful as the Prom-Grace. She sighed and deepened their kiss as they sank to their knees onto the blanket. Now she knew; now she was ready to admit what her heart had known long ago: she loved Luke and he loved her.
Just as she was.
Just who she was.
He loved her.