Disclaimer: It's all Amy's.

Notes: I am not a Lorelai/Chris shipper. Okay, maybe I am, but just a little bit. I can't help it -part of me (a small part) always wanted for Chris to wise up and for those two crazy kids to work things out. (Also: Java Junkies forever!) After watching Wedding Bell Blues, I couldn't help but be intrigued by Chris' story. That, and the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. They might not be right for each other now, but they were right for each other then.

In the Parking Lot of the AP

By Lizka

Lorelai was looking at him.

That, in itself, was not unusual. They had been friends for eight years, ever since they had met when they were six and had bonded when they dumped an entire bowl of punch onto Missy Goldstein. Lorelai had known him the longest, after his parents and Janey the housekeeper (whom Chris had called "mommy" the entire first year that he could speak).

Really, they had to look at each other sometimes.

However, Christopher had never seen this particular look before, and he knows all of her looks. He knows when she's happy (slight smile, bright eyes), when she was giddy (crinkled nose and a smile that would stretch all the way to her molars), when she was mad (tight face, mouth pressed into a hard line), and when she was pretending to be polite (glassy eyes, frozen smile). Christopher knew all her moods; knew that she liked the Bangles, coffee, and bad movies; that she didn't like decaf, polyester clothes, and her parents; and that she had a love affair with snow.

So it freaked him out to see this new look on his best friend's face; this calm, considering, measuring look that reminded him eerily of Emily Gilmore.

"What?" he asked, taking another sip of his blue raspberry slushie. They had taken the bus to a nearby grocery store after school. Their ties were loosened, their jackets were crumpled beside them, and they were facing each other, leaning against two parked cars as shoppers go by with carts full of food. It was the first time in a week that things had felt normal between them, since Christopher had finally (secretly) admitted to himself that he might maybe-sorta-kinda like his best friend. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She had never looked at him like that before.

Lorelai put her cherry slushie down onto the hood of the car next to her, wiped her palms on her kilt, walked over and took his face into her hands. Her drink had made her lips even redder, he noticed, and wow; she smelled good and whatthehellwasshedoinganyway?

Hmm. Bubblegum lip gloss. She tasted like bubblegum lip gloss and cherry slushie and faintly of her coffee from lunch. For a second, Chris was frozen. His lips were still, his eyes open and staring into Lorelai's dark, curly hair. Then he realized that her fingers were soft against his neck, that her nails scratched lightly below his hairline, and that he had been stupid to be afraid to try this.

So he kissed her back.

An eternity later, and all too soon in Chris' opinion, Lorelai pulled away; taking her bubblegum-cherry-coffee taste and soft fingers with her.

"Wh – wha – why?" he asked, stammering.

Lorelai looked at him with yet another new face (crinkled nose, bright eyes, and content smile). "I just wanted to know what it would be like."

"Oh. How was it?"

She smiled at him. He knew that smile. She thought he was being funny.

"It was okay," she said. She gave him another considering look and asked if she could have a sip of his blue raspberry slushie. Wordlessly, he handed his drink over, and accepted her cherry slushie in return. They sat there in silence, Christopher still in shock, and Lorelai grinning against her straw. They sat there until she stood, and announced that they had to move if they wanted to catch the next bus, that it was getting dark, and wouldn't Richard and Emily be mad if she was late?

Also, would he like to come over for dinner?

She started for the bus station with a smile, called over her shoulder for him to hurry up, and for a moment, Chris watched her retreating figure. Her hair was bouncing, her kilt swayed slightly as she walked, and her jacket was slung over one shoulder. Then, with a huge grin, he ran to her. He slipped his arm around his shoulder and asked casually what the Gilmores would be serving tonight.

It was the best day of his life.