Author's Notes: This is an old story, first posted at BWR years ago, finally being re-posted here after some much-needed editing. (Thanks, Eledgy, for looking it over, too!) It takes place during "There's the Rub," when Luke's apartment above the diner was undergoing renovations, but in my version, something happens to give our favorite couple a push in the right direction. Hope you enjoy this oldie! (Be sure to read the end note, too!)
Chicken Little
Luke Danes had never imagined himself as a spy. He had no fantasies about being James Bond or even Remington Steele. But thanks to years of surreptitious surveillance on one particular person, he nevertheless had become something of a spying expert.
Today, out of the corner of his eye, Luke watched as his subject made her way back across the diner to the table where Rory was already sitting. The phone call that had taken her outside must have been bad news, judging from the miserable look on her normally bright face. Even her ponytail looked uncharacteristically depressed this morning.
Rory motioned her mother to lean further under the umbrella she held over their heads. Moments later, an especially loud thud from the upstairs construction sent a fine shower of plaster bits and dust down over their table.
Lorelai nodded gloomily and sipped at her coffee, apparently resigned that for her, this morning was just not going to get any better.
Although Luke knew that Jess was just being his typical wiseass self when he gave Rory the umbrella earlier, now he was thankful they had it. He didn't want any diner patron to get hit with a chunk of debris, but if either Gilmore girl would ever be harmed by something that was his fault, he'd never forgive himself.
Luke gave himself a shake, knowing it was time to get back to work. He moved behind the counter, taking a moment as he did so to survey the sorry state of his business. Silently he chastised himself for swallowing Tom's bull that the diner could stay open while the work was going on upstairs. Geez, he knew better. He knew enough about renovation to know that it always takes longer, it's always messier, and it always costs more than the estimate. He should have just shut down and done the job himself. If the health inspector came by during this mess there was no doubt he'd be facing all sorts of fines and violations.
But…the fact was, he couldn't afford to shut down, and he couldn't afford the luxury of doing the construction himself, either. He needed to get it done fast, and that meant letting Tom and his crew have free reign upstairs. He didn't like it, but that was the truth. He needed to provide Jess with something more closely resembling a real home as soon as possible.
Leaning against the counter behind him, he took off his cap and tiredly rubbed his head, feeling the start of a headache. The blood was pounding over one eyebrow in time to the hammer blows thumping from upstairs.
A sudden noise, louder than anything else he'd heard that morning, cracked directly above his head. He tried to look upwards, but some unseen power instead forced him to his knees. He blinked desperately, trying to see through a red veil that was now coating his eyes. The red changed to a shimmering gray, and then abruptly he was staring up at the old tin ceiling, because for some incomprehensible reason he was now flat on his back.
The gray dimness slowly changed to a gorgeous, glittering blue. The vivid hue swallowed him up for a moment, muting his confusion, but eventually he strained to move his head, because he needed to find the source of that perfect color.
Lorelai. He smiled, satisfied. Of course it was Lorelai.
Lorelai and her beautiful eyes. She was leaning over him, her face twisted in concern. It looked like she was probably saying something – Typical, right? – but his ears didn't seem to be working. Every few seconds she'd stop talking in order to give him a quivering smile of reassurance. Her hand was gently patting his cheek. She took something handed to her, a rag maybe, and pressed it tenderly against his forehead.
Right then, right there, everything fell into place. What the hell had he been waiting for?
Luke raised one hand and burrowed his fingers underneath her ponytail, caressing the soft skin on her neck. He applied sure pressure, encouraging her to lower her face down to his.
What? He thought she said, probably assuming he had something to say.
But he had no desire to talk. Instead he pulled her closer still, and when her lips were within range of his, he kissed her.
She gasped in surprise, and he used that gasp to best advantage. She resisted for one second…two seconds…maybe three…and then she was kissing him back with all of the passion he'd ever imagined.
He would have been ecstatic to remain on the floor, kissing her, for the rest of the day, but pain and dizziness had other ideas. Discomfort forced him to ease his grip and she reared away from him in shock, spider-walking backwards until her wrists gave out and she plopped down on her behind in a truly ungraceful fashion. Then she stared at him in astonishment and struggled for breath.
Luke managed to raise himself up on one elbow while pointing at her with his other hand. "Tonight," he said, probably too loudly because his ears still weren't working, "we are going out!" He shook his finger at her firmly, wanting to make his point.
Unfortunately, that was when his elbow buckled and his head cracked down against the ancient floor with a sickening thud, and everything went dark.
Oh, man…
The back of his head hurt. Bad. The throbbing pain made him wonder if someone had cracked a baseball bat over him. He frowned, then groaned as the pain hit from the muscles he'd used to frown. He started to put a hand up to his numb forehead, which could have been made out of plastic, it felt so little like a part of him.
"Hey, hey, careful there. Don't do that," a gruff voice said.
Luke opened his eyes and saw a worried Jess hovering over him. Jess caught his hand, stopping him from touching his own forehead.
Luke blinked at the bright overhead lights and the white acoustic ceiling tiles. "Where the hell am I?"
Hearing Luke's normal, exasperated tone, Jess' face lost the worry and changed into his typical I-don't-give-a-damn expression. "You're in the hospital. In Hartford. You don't know…You really don't remember what happened?" he asked, a hint of concern still in his voice.
Luke frowned harder, then instantly regretted it when his scalp felt like it was trying to separate from his forehead. "In case you can't tell, I'm not in the mood to play guessing games right now!" he snapped.
For once Jess didn't try to further irritate his uncle. "The work the guys were doing upstairs loosened that big old wooden shelf up above the back counter. You were lucky enough to be in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time, and the whole thing came down on your head."
"Oh, geez." Luke groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. "Did anybody else get hurt?" he asked, scared to hear the answer.
"Nope. Just you."
Luke savored one moment of relief, then glared at Jess. "What are you doing here? Who's taking care of the diner?"
"Caesar's there, and Tony, and Caesar said he'll call in more help if he needs it. Lane even offered to come in after school and help out." Jess snickered, shaking his head. "The weird chick said she's always wanted to work in the diner. Don't worry, it's covered."
Luke mentally inventoried all of the stuff that had been displayed on the shelf for years. No wonder his head hurt. "It came loose?" he asked, needing to confirm the information for his rattled brain.
"Yeah. Tom says you signed off on any damage to the diner, so it's not his fault," Jess said with his trademark smirk. "However, he also told me in private that he feels terrible you got hurt, and he's going to personally check everything else in the diner and make sure it's bolted down so that nobody else gets hurt. And he'll deny he ever said any of that if you try to talk to him about it."
"That figures." This time, Luke got his hand up to his forehead. He gingerly felt along his scalp, wincing as he did so.
"You've got seven stitches and four Steri-Strips," Jess informed him. "Also, since you got knocked out, they're going to make you stay here overnight."
"Wonderful," Luke said sourly.
There was a heavy pause of silence.
"So, tell me, Romeo," Jess ventured, with a particular lilt in his voice. "You really don't remember what happened?"
Luke looked at Jess warily. "Why? Did I do something stupid?"
Jess snorted a laugh. "I guess that remains to be seen. You honestly don't remember?"
Now worried, Luke dredged up all the sensations he could recall. Once again he could almost feel that unbearable force driving him down to the floor. He remembered the odd feeling of not being able to hear. The painful redness that had bathed his eyes.
And…something else.
"Blue?" he muttered, trying to make sense of it.
That comment seemed to make Jess inordinately pleased. "Blue, huh?" he repeated, striving to sound innocent. "Blue, like Lorelai's eyes blue? That sort of blue?"
"Hey, don't you be ―" Abruptly, Luke stopped chastising his nephew. Although he couldn't quite piece the memories together yet, he had a really bad feeling that something had indeed happened. Something between him and Lorelai. Something that he'd secretly wished to have happen for a really long time.
"Crap." Fear overtook him. "That didn't really…" He looked up at Jess, silently begging. "I didn't really…did I?"
"Oh, you most certainly did, Uncle Luke." Jess was definitely enjoying his discomfort. "Hey, if I knew that's all it took to get you to make a move on her, I could have whacked you over the head the first night I got here."
Luke groaned in despair and flung an arm over his eyes, wishing he could believe Jess was making it all up. His sore head threatened to explode as he slowly shook it from side to side. "How mad is she?" he asked, resigning himself to the reality of what had happened.
"Well, that depends on your definition of the word 'mad,'" Jess said thoughtfully. "By the way, that rule about only family being allowed to ride along in the ambulance? That's more like a suggestion now. For someone with very little athletic ability, she was able to vault over the EMTs before they knew what hit them."
Luke's nightmare was getting worse. "She came along in the ambulance?" he asked, panic-stricken.
"I think she would have killed anyone who tried to stop her," Jess said, not joking. "She had Rory drive me here in the Jeep."
"Oh, dear God," he moaned. How much worse could it get?
Jess suddenly seemed nervous. "You know, I'd better go get her. If she finds out you're awake and I didn't let her know right away, she'll rip my head off."
"She's still here?"
"Oh, yeah." Jess started for the door. "She's been guarding you since they moved you into the room. She's only missing now because her coffee addiction forced her to go find a vending machine. I'd better let her know you're conscious and not any more brain damaged than normal."
"Jess, don't ―" Luke tried to threaten, but Jess was already gone.
He closed his eyes, trying to push aside the pain and disorientation long enough to come up with a way to handle the fact that he'd blown his life to smithereens.
His eyes flew open when Lorelai burst into the room. Her momentum caused her to skid a little bit and she grabbed at the door frame to steady herself.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," she said, possibly a little shyly, making her way over to the bed. "How are you feeling?" Her hands nervously started to smooth down the edge of the blanket covering him.
"Um, OK," he muttered, having trouble drawing a full breath with her bending so close to him. "My forehead feels weird. Like it doesn't really belong to me."
Her eyes darted up to his head and her gentle hands soon followed. "Yeah, it hit you right at the scalp line. I don't think you'll have much of a scar. But wow, was there a lot of blood! I'd forgotten how much head wounds bleed. Rory stood up underneath one of the tables at the Inn when she was about three and cracked her head open. I thought sure she'd killed herself because there was just so much blood. It turned out she was fine, but they practically had to sedate me, nervous mama that I am." She quickly met his eyes, then just as quickly looked away. "You'll probably end up with this nice, manly scar. You can make up some heroic story about how you got it to impress the ladies," she suggested, attempting to tease.
"Yeah." Luke paused and tried to man up, knowing he needed to address what he'd done when his good sense had gotten knocked haywire. "Listen, Lorelai…Jess told me…He reminded me about what happened in the diner," he floundered.
Suddenly her whole body went still. Her comforting hands left his head. She took a step back and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "Jess told you?" she repeated, in a voice that had become chilly.
"Yeah, he told me what happened, and I'm ―"
"You don't remember." The bitter-sounding words weren't phrased as a question.
A way out suddenly beckoned Luke, and he eagerly followed down that path. "No, no I don't. But he told me about what I did, and I want you to know that I'm sorry, Lorelai. I didn't mean it. I'd never do that to you. You know, if the shelf hadn't knocked me silly."
She gave an icy laugh as she looked over towards the door, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "No, of course not. You'd never do that."
"You believe me, right? That I'm sorry?"
"Why wouldn't I believe you?" She squared up her shoulders, her expression unreadable to him. "No harm no foul, right? Did I use that right? You know I'm no good with the sports stuff."
"Yeah, that was a good reference. Are you sure ―"
"You know what, I need to go," she stated abruptly. "I've got a business to run. And apparently, you're fine. No longer knocked the least bit silly. So I should go." She nodded to him curtly and stalked to the door. "Jess!" she bellowed, as soon as she reached the hall. "We're leaving!"
Luke nestled his throbbing head a little further into the soft pillows. He knew he should be relieved that she'd let him off the hook that easily, but he was still worried. She seemed mad, madder now than what he'd expected her to be originally. Maybe he could give her some free pie when he got back to the diner and bribe her into real forgiveness. He'd try that. Free pie and coffee, for as long as it took.
Jess rushed back into the room. "Geez, man, what did you say to her?"
Before Luke could answer, they both heard Lorelai shriek "Jess!" from somewhere down the hall.
"Listen, I'll bring you some clothes and stuff tonight, but I gotta go now, or she'll leave me here," Jess said quickly, turning on his heel. He sprinted for the door.
"Leaving for Stars Hollow in five seconds!" Luke heard Lorelai yell. "Four! Three!" Jess apparently made it before she got to 'two.'
Dejectedly, Luke looked up at the ceiling, and realized that he'd spent a lot of time today looking at ceiling tiles. He sighed heavily. Just what he needed. Yet one more problem in his life.
The next day, Earl, one of Tom's workers, showed up to bring Luke home from the hospital. Not that Tom felt guilty about what happened, or anything like that, Earl informed him with a big, knowing grin. No, Tom needed some supplies from the Hartford home center, so it was no big deal. Luke was just grateful that Jess wasn't cutting school to come and get him.
The day was busy once he was back at the diner. He was pleased to see that Tom had indeed fixed the fallen shelf. The floor behind the counter had been thoroughly cleaned, and he winced, remembering Lorelai's comment about 'a lot of blood.' He hurried upstairs to check on the work going on there, and was satisfied to see that things seemed to be under control. He discovered that he could still wear his hat once he adjusted it by two spots, giving it just enough room to fit over the dressing on his forehead.
While in the hospital he'd had a lot of time to think, and he'd come up with a plan. He found Tom and went over what he wanted to implement. Tom quickly agreed, and soon plastic sheeting was tacked up over the ceiling downstairs, capable of catching the majority of dust and debris filtering down from the construction zone upstairs.
Luke conscripted Caesar and busboy Ben to help him reconfigure the table layout. They pushed most of them over towards the front door and closer to the kitchen, taking them out from under the worst of the construction area. He'd lose the use of three tables, but to his mind that was a fair trade-off from worrying about anybody getting hit with flying debris.
He breathed easier once those tasks were accomplished, then shifted gears and dove quickly into making burgers and waiting tables.
The diner was a madhouse. Everyone wanted to stop by and confirm that he was OK. He was incredibly grateful that his trusty blue cap was hiding the worst of the damage from all of the prying eyes. He was sure he said nothing besides "seven stitches" for most of the day.
"Seven stitches" and "I don't remember."
Everyone wanted to know about the kiss and its aftermath. Luke gritted his teeth and stuck to the party line: "I don't remember." He repeated it as calmly as he could, as many times as needed. Eventually they gave up asking. The men all eyed him sympathetically, shaking their heads in regret. The women looked at him skeptically, pursing their lips in disbelief.
Patty and Babette questioned him mercilessly, but he kept his wits about him and insisted that he just didn't remember. Finally even they had to give it up.
"Too bad we don't have a video of that lip lock to jog your memory," Babette told him sorrowfully. "But Kirk had already left that morning."
"You know, they say the best way to recall a lost memory is to try doing it again," Patty suggested slyly.
"You want a shelf to fall on my head again?" Luke demanded, incensed.
"No, Doll, we mean the kissin' Lorelai part," Babette explained.
Luke sighed and rubbed wearily at his head, looking down at the floor. He missed the worried look that passed between the two ladies.
"We're just glad you're OK," Patty said quickly, when he looked up again.
"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare," Babette agreed.
Luke waited, but apparently they were done tormenting him. Gratefully he escaped to check on the other diners.
Finally the day ended and he climbed the steps, exhausted and sore. He quickly got ready for bed and exchanged the customary half-dozen snarled words with Jess concerning his day at school. He took the pain pill he'd so far ignored and crawled at last into bed.
Just before the pill knocked him into peaceful oblivion, he realized something.
Lorelai hadn't been in the diner at all.
He soon learned, thanks to Jess trying to sneak food out of the diner to take to Rory, that Lorelai was at some sort of spa thing with her mother. He couldn't believe his good fortune. Lorelai loved that sort of pampering thing. Sure, her mother was probably driving her crazy, but with any luck at all she'd come home relaxed and more inclined to let his indiscretion slide. He could hope, anyway.
It was Monday morning before he saw the girls again. Rory entered the diner first and instantly came right up to him. Even though she was weighed down with her backpack, and he had a load of plates, she got her arms around his middle and managed to give him an awkwardly affectionate squeeze.
"Are you really OK?" she asked, shyly springing away from the hug. "Should you be working?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, favoring her with a smile. "I'm tough. Thick-headed, you know. Just ask Jess."
She grinned, but then turned stern. "Is he helping? I had a talk with him. He's supposed to be helping."
"He has been," Luke admitted, shocked to learn just how much influence Rory had over his sullen nephew.
"Good," she said, sunny once again. She nodded, and went to take a place along the 3-table expanse that took up the long wall. No one seemed to mind sitting together family style. Rory made sure that there was an empty spot across from her for her mother.
Lorelai soon appeared in the doorway, her face set in the glowering lines that normally belonged to Jess. She gave him a quick glance and then dragged herself unwillingly over to the spot Rory had saved for her.
Luke took a fortifying breath. He filled two mugs with coffee and went over to them, not waiting for them to order it. He hoped that gesture might help to smooth things over with Lorelai.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
She scowled into the mug. "How much plaster dust is in here? I mean, I know I like it strong, but this isn't what I had in mind."
He felt a little flare of anger pop up as she criticized the coffee. "The coffee's fine," he said, trying to control his tone.
"It's great!" Rory agreed, smacking her lips over the sip she'd taken. "Glad to have you back," she added. "Caesar's just isn't the same." She took another sip. "Try it Mom," she urged.
Lorelai's cute, freckled nose turned up, and she pushed the mug away. "No, thanks. You're the one always goading me not to put unhealthy things into my body. I think I'll start with this."
"Mom," Rory pleaded.
Luke kept his anger in check with great effort. "Fine. What do you want?"
She flipped her hair back and scornfully regarded her surroundings. "I haven't made up my mind if I'm actually going to stay or not, let alone if I'm going to chance eating anything here. I forgot to check and see if my life insurance is paid up." Although she still looked like Lorelai, the haughty tone in her voice was pure Emily.
Luke put his hands on his hips and glared at her. "No one's forcing you to stay here, that's for sure. Feel free to leave anytime. I certainly wouldn't want you to stay someplace you don't feel safe," he urged her, mocking.
"Fine! I'll go!" She got up with a flounce, throwing her purse over her shoulder. She stalked over to the door and slammed it shut behind her.
"What's wrong with her?" Luke demanded hotly, turning to confront Rory.
Rory sighed. "You know, Luke, I sat right over there and watched that shelf come down and hit you on the head. If it wasn't for that, I'd swear you got hit over the head with the stupid stick instead."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked her blankly, not understanding a word she'd said.
Rory shook her head, looking patient. "I could tell you, Luke. But it won't count if you don't figure it out on your own." Luke stared at her, puzzled, and she smiled sadly at him. "I'd like two eggs, sunny-side up, and some toast and bacon, please."
"Sure," he muttered, scratching her request down on the order pad. He took one more look at Rory, sitting there with her inscrutable Mona Lisa smile, and headed towards the kitchen, shrugging over her riddle.
He could see now it was going to take a lot more than free pie to get Lorelai back to normal.
The next several days went by in much the same manner. He went downstairs and worked hard in the diner, squeezing through the tight spaces between the rearranged tables. At night he went upstairs and slept amongst the stacked drywall and gaping holes. He tried his best to ignore the noise and confusion that were the two constants in his life. He kept a sharp eye on Jess, unable to forget Rory's supreme influence over his nephew, having a continual internal debate if that was a good or bad thing. He missed Lorelai, but pretended he didn't.
Rory came in as often as ever, occasionally getting orders to go, which he assumed went to her mother.
Daily he fielded a couple of questions about what really happened after the shelf fell, but he stayed single-minded, denying any remembrance of the kiss that was still the talk of the town.
But all of that stress was easy to handle, compared to the biggest problem he was battling.
He remembered everything. In fact, his excellent memory was his torment. He now knew exactly what it felt like to kiss Lorelai Gilmore, and every bit of that kiss was permanently burned into his memory.
On Thursday he ducked out of the diner just long enough to mail a bill, and when he was headed back he looked up and saw that Lorelai had just stepped out of Doose's. When she saw him her face became panic-stricken and she abruptly wheeled around and headed the other way.
He growled and squashed the desire to hit something in frustration. As he stomped back to the diner, he reflected that at least this whole debacle had proven something to him. He'd always suspected that if he ever tried anything with Lorelai, and it didn't work out, this was exactly the way she'd end up treating him. He tried to find some perverse pleasure in being right.
Late that afternoon, Miss Patty swirled in for a cup of tea and a muffin.
"Luke, dear," she began, her eyes darting around the diner nervously, "you heard that there's a special town meeting Taylor's called for tonight, right?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, uncaring.
"Luke, you need to be there," she told him firmly.
He looked closely at her. "Everyone will be in here after. I'll hear more than I want to about whatever it is."
Patty pressed her lips together and appeared to be thinking about how to phrase what she wanted to say. She reached out and tugged on his arm, for once without some lewd purpose. "Luke, I can't say much, but you really need to be there tonight."
Luke met her concerned eyes and saw that she was completely serious. "OK," he agreed, still reluctant. "I'll make sure to be there."
"Good," Patty said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Luke walked to the counter with a feeling a dread. Great. One more thing to add to his heaping pile of worry.
That evening when he walked into Patty's for the meeting, Luke had the feeling that everyone knew what was going on except for him. People either avoided him or went out of their way to give him a falsely jovial greeting. He found a seat towards the back and lowered himself into it, stoic about whatever was going to happen.
Taylor headed towards the podium just as the big door pushed open one more time. It was Lorelai, of course.
Luke couldn't help it. His eyes met hers and automatically cut to the empty seat next to him, because at one time, that's the way it would have been. She would have sat next to him and they would have had a fine time mocking everything being discussed and taking turns tormenting Taylor. But tonight she rolled her eyes at his offer and pranced down the aisle to sit next to Rory and Dean.
He sat there fuming, feeling as hurt as if he'd been slapped.
"Nice that you could join us, Lorelai," Taylor said with sarcastic sweetness. "And so close to being on time, too. Well done!"
She quickly stuck her tongue out at him, smiled, and settled into her seat.
"OK, people, since this is an unscheduled meeting tonight, let's try to make this quick," Taylor began.
Kirk stood up. "Taylor, if you don't mind, I have something of extreme importance, vital to the future of Stars Hollow that needs to be discussed first."
"Kirk, this is not the time!" Taylor was low on patience. "You are not on the agenda tonight."
"This is a continuation of a concern of mine from several years back, so it really makes sense to bring it up now," Kirk continued, undeterred. "It appears a new solution has presented itself, and I'd never forgive myself if this problem was allowed to fester when it can be stopped."
"Taylor, you might as well let him talk," Gypsy said. "You know he's not going to drop it."
Taylor sighed heavily. "Very well. Kirk, you have five minutes."
"Thank you." Kirk gravely looked around at the assembled townspeople. "Some of you may recall that two years ago I tried to make you aware of the shocking spectacle of unclothed squirrels running about in the square. I, myself, was subjected to many mornings of being flashed by naked squirrels as I was simply trying to cross the square to the diner. Needless to say, after that I lost my appetite. Do you remember, Luke? I tried to point out to you that you were losing business due to the disgusting squirrel behavior."
"Oh, boy," Luke muttered under his breath. "Yeah, Kirk, I remember," he said out loud.
"At the time, I went to Constance at the Calico Shop and tried to interest her in providing fabric that could be made into some sort of garments for the squirrels, but she declined."
"Shocker," Jackson commented wryly, from the row ahead of Luke.
"But now it appears we have the answer to squirrel nudity," Kirk continued. He waved a catalog over his head. "Someone else has taken my idea and run with it, and we can now order squirrel underpants from this Archie McPhee catalog."
A ripple of excitement ran over the meeting, as everyone tried to comprehend Kirk's latest implausible plan.
Kirk opened the catalog and slowly turned, holding up the picture for everyone to see.
"The underpants are $5.95 apiece. I suggest that we undertake some sort of squirrel census, if you will, and determine how many pairs we're going to need. Then we ought to hold some sort of fundraiser, or perhaps siphon off some money from the bridge fund so that we can begin to cover the squirrels at once. I know you don't want your children to be subjected to squirrel nudity any longer than necessary."
"How do you propose getting the underpants on the squirrels, Kirk?" Andrew asked.
Kirk frowned. Apparently he hadn't thought about that. "Possibly some sort of squirrel-sized tranquilizer dart?" He looked over at the town vet. "Becky, what would you suggest?"
Becky was trying not to laugh. "I'm not really an expert on squirrels, I'm afraid."
Kirk nodded grimly. "Well, we might need to adjust the plan as we go."
"Kirk, what are you going to do about girl squirrels?" Lorelai asked innocently.
"Lorelai, don't encourage him!" Taylor begged.
"What do you mean?" Kirk asked, confused.
"Well, Sugar," Babette pointed out, curving her hands over her own ample bosom, "the lady squirrels might need somethin' more than underpants."
"Yeah," Lorelai was nodding vigorously. "You might want to consider something more like a teddy or a chemise, to cover them all up. I don't know, do squirrels have more than one set?" she asked Rory.
Rory was trying to keep her mouth straight. She shook her head sternly at her mom.
Kirk took it all in. "Maybe we should put off this discussion until I can gather some more information. Maybe the parks department could help."
"That's a great idea, Kirk. We'll table it until you come up with more info," Taylor said quickly, jumping up to take back control of the meeting. "Now let's move on to the real reason we've gathered this evening, which is to discuss the dangers currently lurking in one of our local dining establishments."
Another ripple ran over the meeting, and Luke quickly figured out what was going on. "Now, just a minute here!" He stood up, ready to fight.
"Calmly, Luke, please," Taylor said, trying to placate him. "Let's be adults here. We just want to discuss it. Concerns have been raised, and I feel we need to address them."
"What concerns? If anybody has concerns, they can come to me!"
"Yes, because I'm sure you'd consider them so coolly," Taylor said self-righteously. "All we want to do is to make sure that the citizens of Stars Hollow aren't in danger while they consume their patty melts. You yourself have the stitches in your head to prove that this isn't something to take lightly."
The muscle in Luke's jaw was working furiously as he attempted keep himself composed enough to rationally address Taylor. "I've done everything I can think of to keep the diner safe. I've moved tables. I put up a protective barrier over the ceiling. Either Tom's helped me secure everything on the walls or it's been taken down. What happened to me is not going to happen to anyone else, not if I can help it."
"That's true, Taylor," Patty was quick to agree.
"Well, that might have solved one problem, but what about food purity?" Taylor continued.
"What?" Luke asked blankly.
"The dust and other material drifting down from the construction. What guarantee do we have that it's not in the food you're serving?"
"The kitchen isn't even under where the construction is!" he yelled.
"I doubt that plaster dust knows it has to stay in a certain area, Luke," Taylor responded.
"That's ridiculous!" Luke fumed
"No, it's not. And who knows what's lurking in that dust? There could be arsenic, or asbestos, or lead from the paint!"
That shot came through in Lorelai's voice. She stood and turned to face him, glaring.
Luke felt his mouth drop open. He couldn't believe she was attacking him. "You picked out the paint!" he roared, finally finding his voice after what felt like forever.
She scoffed at him. "And how many other layers are underneath? Who knows what deadly things are hidden down below the surface? I don't want my kid exposed to it!"
Her anger was coming through loud and clear. He felt empty, too wounded by her betrayal to try and fight back. Plus, a large part of his brain was focused on her lips―the lips that were now throwing such hurtful words at him―and the way they'd felt when he'd kissed them.
Gypsy suddenly rose to his defense. "No one's forcin' you to eat at Luke's," she pointed out brusquely.
"That's right," Andrew agreed. "We've all got free will, remember? If we want to eat at Luke's, we can. It's practically in the Constitution!"
"But if there's a danger…" Taylor tried to interject.
"Maybe Luke could have us all sign some sort of waiver, you know, that we're eatin' there at our own risk," Babette suggested.
"Or just post some sort of warning on the door," Patty added.
"But what about kids, or – or Kirk, who come in without reading the warning?" Lorelai whined, pouting, even though Rory was doing her best to stifle her complaints.
"You know, it seems to me that I recall the Independence Inn doing some renovations several years ago, and you stayed open for business," Luke taunted her. "How would you like to have to completely shut down the next time you need to put new wiring in one room?"
Lorelai closed her mouth abruptly.
"That's true, Taylor," Patty mused. "We could be setting a precedent here. Weren't you telling me that you hope to enlarge the market someday? If we make some sort of ruling here tonight, that would apply to everyone down the line, wouldn't it?"
Taylor's eyebrows shifted upwards as he mulled this development. "You know, people, this may just be a fine example of individual enterprise. All in favor of allowing Luke's to stay open and for diners to enter at their own risk, signify by saying 'Yea!'"
A chorus of enthusiastic 'yeas' followed. Luke noticed that Lorelai remained silent, although both Rory and Dean jumped to their feet, clapping along with the crowd.
Luke gave a curt nod to his supporters before slipping outside to lay in wait.
A few minutes later he stepped in front of Lorelai before she had any idea he was there. "Thanks for having my back in there," he said bitterly. "Or rather, for sticking the knife in my back."
She turned and tried to go the other way, but he quickly cut her off.
"No, it's time we talked about this," he insisted. "What is your problem?"
"Look," she snarled, "some people don't have enough sense to protect themselves, so the community has to do it for them. I was just trying to look out for the innocent people who could be injured by your actions. Since my kid keeps going to your diner, I don't want to see her get hurt!"
"Is that what you think I want?" he yelled at her, incredulous. "You think I want to see Rory get hurt? Do you think I want to see anyone get hurt?"
"I don't know what you want!" she cried out, sounding very much as if tears were lurking on the backside of her sentence.
He paused, took a deep breath, and managed to turn his next words softer. "Lorelai, you know I hate what happened. You have to know I'm sorry. Please…Can't you please get past this?"
He could see she was trying to regain control over her emotions. Finally she nodded. "I'll try," she said quietly, looking away.
"Good," he said gently.
She nodded again, but still looked distressed, and left a wide berth around him as she started towards home.
Frustration was almost overwhelming him as he crossed the street, heading towards the diner. Jess materialized from out of the shadows.
"What?" Luke snapped, seeing the condescension on his nephew's face.
"I'm just hoping that my brains came from another part of the family tree," Jess informed him with a sly grin. Before Luke could respond, Jess zipped up his coat and headed off down the street.
"Where are you going?" Luke yelled at Jess' back, totally exasperated.
Jess turned around for a moment. "Hey, with all of the brain power at your disposal, I'm sure you'll figure it out in no time." Then he waved casually and started once more down the street.
Luke gritted his teeth at the smart-ass comment, but he couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't something worth pondering in the message.
It should have been time for the afternoon lull. Instead, half the population of Stars Hollow had suddenly decided they all needed a piece of pie, or a cup of coffee, or a plate of chili fries that only Luke's Diner could deliver. Luke was going crazy trying to meet the demand. He swore to himself that he could never figure out this looney town and their eating habits.
The idea that they were all there to support him never entered his mind.
He had just rushed behind the counter to get Mrs. Slutsky yet another cup of tea when the front door was thrown open with such force that the bells had no chance to ring. The door crashed with a tremendous, reverberating 'thwack' against the wall.
Luke dove down behind the counter with his hands over his head, an involuntary reaction to the shelf crashing down on him the week before. After a heart-pounding moment or two he realized that nothing had fallen on him, and he cautiously stood up to see what was going on.
All eyes were glued to the door, where Lorelai stood in a sort of Xena, Warrior Princess pose, minus the short black leather skirt and the annoying battle cry. The breeze coming in from behind her was blowing her curls softly about her shoulders. She was breathing hard and in her hand, instead of a sword, she clutched what appeared to be about a 2-foot length of lumber, maybe something tossed out by Tom and his crew.
Ignoring all of the mouths gaping at her, she strode with single-minded purpose towards the counter. Luke automatically put out a hand to stop her from entering, but she shot him such a look of disbelief he pulled the hand back.
She kept advancing until she had pushed him back against the far wall. She brandished the piece of lumber at him, and without thinking, he took it.
"Hit me!" she ordered, motioning at her head.
His mouth dropped open even further. "Are you crazy?" he shouted at her.
She tried to grab for his hand. "Do it!" she insisted.
"I'm not hitting you!" Luke yelled, dropping the battered piece of wood to the floor and kicking it away for good measure.
Her eyes snapping, Lorelai growled with frustration and grabbed for his head. Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth against his.
There was nothing sexy or loving about this kiss. Her mouth was firm and unyielding against his. After a few seconds she started to draw away, but by then Luke had finally caught up with what was going on.
He latched his arms around her, holding her tight against him. His lips feathered gently over hers, urging her to meet him in a more satisfactory way. He soon broke through her defenses and she melted against him, kissing him back with everything she had.
When the kiss ended, she took a faltering step backwards, trying to regain her balance – and her composure. She gulped in a breath of air and tried to recoup the blaze of anger that had been driving her.
"Now we're even!" she shouted at him, tossing back her hair. She turned abruptly and dashed for the door.
Instantly the diner was in an uproar. Luke took a moment to stare at the still-open door, then bolted across the room to follow her as his anger kicked in.
For once it was an advantage that he'd lived in Stars Hollow all of his life, because he knew shortcuts from when he was a kid. Guessing that she was heading towards her house, he dove through the alley by the diner, cut through the electronics store next to K.C.'s, and emerged a moment later onto Cherry.
Lorelai was only a few yards ahead of him. He took a couple of running steps and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.
She tried to jerk her arm away from him but he refused to let go, and their struggles carried them off the sidewalk and out into the middle of the street.
"This has got to stop!" he roared at her, fed up. "You do not get to come into my business and act like that, do you hear me? That was past crazy, even for you, Lorelai! And I get it, OK? I get it! You're mad at me, you're never gonna forgive me for what I did! Fine, we'll just live with that, but you've gotta know I'm sorry! If there was some way to go back in time and stop that kiss from happening, I'd do it, but I can't, so you're just gonna have to be mad at me!"
He paused to take a breath and his eyes fell on the house across the street from where they were standing. It was a neat gray Cape Cod with a warm red door - the house where he'd grown up. The sight of it made him ashamed that he was standing in the middle of the street, yelling at Lorelai. He closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head, and felt his anger all drain away.
He turned back to her and tried to gently tip her face up to his, so he could attempt to apologize for his behavior. That's when he found out she wasn't twisting away from him because she was angry.
Instead, she was trying hard not to cry and didn't want him to see how upset she was.
Everything inside of him melted.
"Hey," he said gently. "Hey, Lorelai, it's OK." He drew her close to him, and rubbed her shoulder tenderly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I kissed you. I know you're mad, but you've got to believe me when I say how sorry I am."
She looked at him steadily then and gave him a shaky little smile. "Oh, Luke," she sighed sadly, "I'm not mad at you for kissing me that day."
"You're not?" he asked skeptically.
"No, I'm not mad," she repeated. "Maybe I should…" She stopped and sighed. "Maybe I should tell you a little bit about the morning the shelf fell."
"Um…OK?" He shrugged, not knowing what was coming.
Lorelai wet her lips, staring across the street, thinking about what to say. He wondered if she knew the history behind the house she was staring at.
"That morning…had not been a good morning for me," she began.
"Yeah, I know," he remembered.
She looked at him sharply. "How would you know that?"
"I just mean…go on," he urged, not wanting to reveal his spying.
"I was just sitting there, sulking, waiting on my food. And then, there was this noise – two noises, actually. Two awful, terrible noises. The first one, I guess, was the shelf tearing away from the wall. And the second one…" She stopped, biting down hard on her lips. "Was the shelf hitting your head."
"Hey, it's no big deal now," he protested, hating to see the agony on her face.
"But it was, Luke! It was –" She shook her head, desperate to explain it. "I saw it hit you, and you just…collapsed. It was awful, Luke! So awful. A lot of us jumped up and went to help you, and Caesar came running from the kitchen right away, but somehow, I managed to get to you first."
For someone with very little athletic ability, she was able to vault over the EMTs before they knew what hit them, he remembered Jess telling him.
"And you were just lying there, so still, with your eyes open, but I could tell you weren't really seeing me or anything else, and the blood just wouldn't stop –" She choked up again. "So much blood," she whispered. "I was…terrified. So scared. And I knew, right then, that the only thing in the world that I wanted was for you to look at me and know it was me and be OK. I wanted that so much, Luke."
"OK," he said helplessly.
"And then…it was like my prayers were answered, and you sort of snapped to, and I could tell you knew it was me. You reached for me, and then…Well, you know what happened then. You kissed me."
Luke blew out a measured breath. "Yeah."
"My feelings were jumping all over the place. I was so happy, not only because I knew you were OK, but because I thought…I thought that maybe the kiss meant…"
"Lorelai –" he cut in, not sure what else to say.
She was very slowly shaking her head. "Here's what you need to understand. We had this incredible moment, Luke, this moment that I thought we'd shared. But then I found out that it was only me. It didn't happen to us. It only happened to me."
Luke was staring at her now, not knowing how he was supposed to interpret what she was saying.
"I'm so sorry, Luke. You had this awful, terrible thing happen to you, and now I'm treating you like crap because you don't remember. It's not your fault, and I'm acting like it is. I'm completely despicable, and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted anything to do with me again. This is my problem, not yours, and I promise I'm going fix it, somehow. But that kiss – God, it was an amazing kiss, Luke. I'm not sure…" She looked up at him with undisguised longing. "I don't think I can ever forget it. And even if I could, I don't think I'd want to."
"You…you want to remember it?" he asked, stunned.
She lifted damp eyes up to his, trying hard to smile. "I do. And I wish you did. But I promise, I'm not going to be mad at you anymore because you don't."
They looked at each other for a few moments. Lorelai shrugged, gave him another tentative half-smile, and began to leave.
Luke blinked several times, trying to clear away the misconceptions he'd been harboring about the incident. One again, everything seemed to fall into place. He reached for her before she could take more than a step away.
"You had your hair in a ponytail that morning," he told her quietly, drawing her hair into a makeshift one around his fingers.
She nodded, looking at him strangely.
"It felt so soft, softer than I would have ever imagined. And the skin on the back of your neck…" His fingertips trailed across her skin there, making her shiver. "It was soft too, and warm. And you smelled so sweet, like you'd been dusted with powdered sugar."
A hopeful breath escaped from her lips. "Oh…"
"And then, you were close enough that I could finally kiss you, and you tasted like maple syrup." With one finger, he dared to trace over her lips.
Her eyes closed and she swayed, for just a moment. Then she gasped and her eyes snapped open, as if she had just awakened from a dream. "You remember," she murmured.
"Every second," he confirmed.
"But why…?" Hurt pooled in her eyes, turned into confusion. "Why did you say you didn't?"
He shook his head, trying to find the words to explain it to her. "Because it wasn't right, Lorelai. That's not the way it should have happened. If I ever had the chance to kiss you, it shouldn't be in the middle of the diner, half-conscious. That's not the way I wanted it to happen," he admitted gruffly.
Lorelai took in a sharp breath. "You've wanted to kiss me?"
"Only once. Or maybe twice. A day," he muttered, completing his confession.
"Really?" She tilted her head, studying him. "I thought you usually wanted to strangle me."
"That thought's occasionally crossed my mind too, but kissing you seemed like the better solution."
"More fun," she suggested.
"Definitely more fun," he agreed.
"Less jail time."
"That too." They were both smiling now.
"So, this desire to kiss me. You've had it for a while?"
He sighed, knowing he was no match for her persistence. "A pretty long time."
"Pining for me?"
He thought about denying that, but he grinned instead, glancing down at his feet. "Maybe."
"One last question."
"Shoot."
"Why aren't you kissing me now?" She did her best to sound petulant, but she flashed him her glorious smile at the same time.
"Because I'm an idiot," he answered honestly, and moved to rectify the situation at once.
Time and space and reality all melted away. There was nothing left but the two of them, and the certain knowledge that the only reason the universe had been created was so that they could find each other.
It seemed as if they'd only started kissing, but suddenly a set of hands was gently pulling at their shoulders, carefully trying to pry them apart. Their eyes opened and they saw a beaming Rabbi Barans, who lived across the street from Luke's old house. They tried to catch their respective breaths and come back to the present.
"Luke, Lorelai!" the rabbi cried out in delight. "This is wonderful! You've set aside your differences and finally found happiness together. This is truly a wonderful thing." He smiled at them indulgently as they hesitantly smiled back at him, still in the midst of clutching each other.
"Luke," the rabbi continued, kindly, "why don't you walk Lorelai to her home, so that the two of you can further explore your new friendship? Then the rest of these good people can be on their way." He motioned up and down the street from where they were standing.
Luke and Lorelai looked and saw that cars were stopped on either side of them, the drivers impatiently waiting on them to get out of the road. Mrs. Krebs was leaning out of her car window, snapping pictures with a disposable camera.
"Um, yeah, good idea," Luke mumbled, still a little disoriented. He took Lorelai's hand and they started across the street.
"Don't miss our next show!" Lorelai called out to the crowd, waving. "Tomorrow at noon, in the gazebo!"
"Stop," Luke growled at her as she giggled.
"Mazel tov!" the rabbi called out to them as they walked away. "Call me if you want something done with that chuppah!"
Luke felt a little awkward, but the allure of having Lorelai at his side soon made that nervousness fade away. He put his arm around her shoulders and gratefully pulled her against him as they slowly walked to her house.
They walked up the steps to her front door. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, sounding as if she was trying to beat down some sudden shyness.
"I'd better not," Luke muttered, his hand once again reaching to cradle her face. "Right now I can't even remember who else was working when I ran out of the diner. I'm pretty sure I didn't even shut the door."
She smiled and leaned into his hand. "Hey, Luke?"
"What?" Everything about her had him mesmerized.
"Do you remember what you said the day the shelf fell, after you kissed me?"
He chuckled. "Do you want to go out tonight?"
She nodded vigorously. "It doesn't have to be anything fancy. We could just grab a pizza at Pete's."
Luke regarded her with mock-seriousness. "Oh, I think it should be something fancy."
"That's fine, too," she happily agreed.
"7:30?" he asked, thinking that he'd just close the diner completely, if that's what it took.
"Perfect," she approved with a smile.
He leaned forward and kissed her, carefully this time. He'd already learned that lingering too long on Lorelai's lips apparently had all sorts of unintended consequences on the space/time continuum.
Before he could pull back they heard catcalls and cheers coming from the front yard. They looked and saw that Rory and Jess were walking towards them.
Jess was carrying Rory's backpack, and she had the piece of lumber that Lorelai had brought to the diner. Jess took it from Rory and hurried up the steps to his uncle.
"Thought maybe you'd want to keep this," he said, trying to sound earnest.
Luke glared at him, not amused, but Lorelai quickly grabbed it. "I do!" she said. "I love souvenirs!"
Luke sighed and started down the steps. "See you tonight," he said to Lorelai. "Don't be a nuisance," he warned his nephew.
Rory grabbed his arm as he walked past her. "See Luke? Wasn't it better that you figured it out on your own?" she asked smugly.
He suddenly realized what Rory had been getting at, that morning in the diner.
"Yeah," he told her, trying to contain a grin. "Sometimes I guess I just have to be hit over the head with it."
Everyone groaned at his little joke, but he didn't care. He was no longer worried about anything, and he started walking back towards the diner with a light, happy heart.
Luke finished pouring coffee grounds into the filter basket and tried to jam it back into the machine. He'd learned that you had to always do it twice, or it wouldn't set properly in the ancient coffeemaker. He leaned his aching head down on top of it as the coffee started to brew, taking a brief moment of comfort from the heat of the machine.
Overhead the noise made by Tom and his crew seemed to grow even louder. Luke hadn't seen them take a jackhammer upstairs, but it certainly sounded like that's what they were using up there on this early morning. He groaned and rubbed over his throbbing temples.
He heard a door open and he turned to see Rory drag herself over to a chair. Her normally pristine school outfit looked bedraggled and strands of hair were escaping from her ponytail.
"Luuuuuke," she whined, dropping her head down onto the table, "why is this still going on? You promised me! You promised you'd make this stop!"
"Two weeks," he told her anxiously. "Two weeks and it will all be over."
She pretended to sob. "That's what you told me two weeks ago, but it's still going on! Make it stop now!"
He looked around, desperate to appease her. "Look, I can make you pancakes. You like pancakes, remember?"
She groaned pitifully. When she moved her head to glare at him, she noticed the coffeemaker.
"Ooh, coffee!" she cried out hopefully, pointing at the filling pot.
Luke sighed. "It's decaf," he muttered, hating to break it to her.
"Luuuuuke!" she whined again, sounding even more broken. "Why is it decaf?"
"You know why it's decaf!" he replied, desperation in his voice. "French toast! Do you want French toast?"
"I. Want. This. To. Stop!" she cried in misery.
Just then Lorelai appeared in the doorway, her fluffy pink robe making her face seem even more radiant than normal. "Good morning, all my loved ones!" she sang out.
She tried to give Rory a lip-smacking kiss on the cheek, but the girl was having none of it and put up her hands, fending her off. "Why are you so perky?" Rory sniped at her.
"Because I have everything I could possibly want, Firstborn," Lorelai said with a glowing smile, walking over to Luke. She wrapped her hands around him from behind, giving him a squeezing hug.
He patted her hands, which were linked in front of him, absently. "French toast," he said, trying to turn enough to see her. "Do you want French toast?"
"That sounds great," she agreed, releasing him. "Rory, do you want French toast?" She tightened the belt of her robe up above the rounded bump that was rapidly making her once-flat stomach disappear.
"You know what?" Rory sneered, her usually-sunny disposition totally depleted from the never-ending construction zone she was living in. "Just give me some Pop Tarts and I'll get out of here."
"No!" Luke was emphatic. "Never! You know that was part of my marriage vows. As long as I'm in this house I'm not feeding you crap!"
Rory sighed, regarding her stepfather's firm stance. "OK, then, I'm just going to go to the diner. I'll eat there." She grabbed her book bag and headed out of the kitchen.
"Stay away from Jess!" Both Luke and Lorelai yelled the warning to her at the same time.
"Eh," she groused, waving a hand back at them. But she turned, grinning, and waved at them affectionately before she disappeared out the door.
"So…the kid's gone," Lorelai said suggestively, her hands snaking back over Luke's chest.
"Yeah," he agreed. Momentarily he forgot everything else in the haze of his continuous need for her. He hoisted Lorelai up on the counter, stepped into her embrace and kissed her, his hand automatically caressing the roundness where their baby was materializing.
"Just you and me," she whispered to him seductively, nibbling on his ear.
He sighed as reality abruptly reappeared. "Yeah. Just you, and me, and Tom, and six other guys working upstairs."
"Oh." Lorelai's face dimmed in disappointment. "Oh, I know! Your old place!"
"With my nephew?" he asked.
"Oh," she said, disappointed yet again. She rubbed her forehead against his, lost in thought. Suddenly she laughed. "It suddenly occurs to me that I know someone who runs an inn. I bet I could get a room comped!"
Luke helped her wiggle down off the counter. "Could you comp two?"
She paused and stared at him. "You don't want to stay in the same room with me? I have to tell you, Babe, that kinda defeats the purpose."
He shook his head. "I mean, one for us and one for Rory. It'd do us good to get out of here for a few days."
Lorelai face shone at him in admiration. "You're smart. I knew there was a reason I married you."
Upstairs, something massive and heavy crashed above their heads.
A split second later, a decorative plate that had been hanging on the kitchen wall above the spice rack fell and shattered when it hit the floor beside them.
They stared in shock at the pieces for a moment.
"Run!" Luke ordered urgently, and they made a mad dash for the hallway. "Keep going," he said, half-dragging her towards the front door. "We're not stopping until we're out of here. There's no way I'm letting anything happen that might make you forget this." His finger circled over the wedding band she wore. "Or this," he added, his hand cradling the first outward sign of the baby they'd made.
"Or this," Lorelai suggested, pulling him to a stop and then kissing him slowly and thoroughly, thus making it impossible for them to remember why they were running out of the house in the first place.
"Definitely not that," he agreed. He held her close and sighed contentedly against her hair. "There's no way I could ever forget that."
Lorelai pulled a little bit away from his embrace and grinned at him. "You're sure about that, Chicken Little?"
Luke tugged her back, until she was tight against him once again. "I'm sure. No matter how many times the sky might fall on me, I'll never forget that," he assured her lovingly.
"Just checking," Lorelai said, her words a little muffled due to her tightly held position.
He chanced giving her one last kiss. "Now, go sit on the porch while I grab us some stuff from upstairs. We'll bring Rory back this afternoon and have her pack a bag." He gave her a gentle push towards the door.
"Hey, Luke?" He heard Lorelai call to him, just as he reached the stairs.
"What?" He turned to see her.
"I hate that you got hurt, but I'm sort of grateful to that shelf, you know?"
He met her eyes and smiled, understanding what she meant. "Yeah, I know. It was worth every stitch in my head." They shared one more smile, and then he dashed up the stairs.
But wait, there's more! I fell in love with the image of happy, contented and committed Luke and Lorelai at the end of this story. I thought of them often, wondering what the years to come would bring them. Because of that, there are two sequels to this story, a third one that fits into the middle of Chicken Little, and at least two more ideas that are still floating around in my brain that I'd love to write down someday. So stay tuned, I'll get them posted here as time allows.