Chapter Two

7 Days Post-Kiss, approx 8am


Lorelai was halfway down the stairs, one arm through her suit jacket and the other reaching to secure her shoes on her feet when the doorbell rang. Scowling at whoever was behind the door because they were going to make her later getting to the inn than she already was, she shoved her shoe on her foot and shrugged her jacket into place before heading for the door. The sight that greeted her was a surprise to say the least. She knew she had deliberately avoided him all week, but she had a thousand and one excuses ready, though none of them were the true reason.  

But before she even had a chance to open her mouth in apology, he was thrusting a silver thermos into her hands and stating rather abruptly, "Here. I figured that since you're avoiding me, you shouldn't suffer from a lack of, what was it you called it? 'Legal Dope'?"

Shocked, she fumbled to keep hold of the flask, her mind whirling with a million different thoughts, none of them succinct enough to actually make it to her lips. What the hell is wrong with me? In every other situation I'm the freakin' ringmaster for the Ringling Brothers, but now when I could really use a complete sentence, I'm suddenly Marcel Marceau? Could my life get any more Alanis? As the thoughts whirled in her head, and she continued to struggle to come out with something halfway intelligent, she was lax in noticing him turning away and heading back to his truck.

"Luke, wait!" Thankyou God! Now, if you can just bestow some of that wit I used to have such a talent for, I'd be forever in your debt. Rory would make a kickass angel you know.. actually, maybe I should be asking Charlie. I wonder why Bill Murray really refused to sign for the sequel. He really was much better than Bernie Mac.. oh crap!

Luke had ignored her, and while she was having such an entertaining internal conversation, he was getting away. She bolted down the steps, scurrying across the too soft grass in her heels, trying to reach him before he made it inside the car.

"Luke, please?"

She watched him turn to look at her, and she could see the anguish in his eyes. Her heart thudded against her chest, afraid of the knowledge that her own actions were the cause of that pain. It wasn't what she had intended at all. The last thing she'd ever wanted was to hurt him. It was quite the opposite actually.

"What?" he demanded.

Her mind worked overtime, whirring through the billions of things she could come out with at this very moment, but none seemed at all appropriate or relevant. In the end, she sighed and stated meaningfully, "I'm sorry."

"For what? Avoiding me all week? Ignoring my phone calls? Letting things go too far between us?"

She reacted physically to his questions. Sure, she actually was referring to the first two, but that last one? God, who knows. Of all the times for that to have happened between them, of all the times for her to find herself kissing her best friend, and liking it, it had to be that night. That night where a gazillion events had occurred, balancing fairly precariously between good and bad. If that kiss hadn't happened when it did, the pleasure of her dream coming true would have been thrown off the scales from the sheer weight of the bad. That kiss had helped balance it all out, had cancelled out the horror of the rest of the evening. However, there was only so much one person could deal with at the same time, and something had to give. So she found herself enforcing that pain she had seen in his eyes with one more, final word.

"Yes," she whispered finally.

She knew she had driven the stake clear through his chest. She could almost see the pain pouring from the wound, pouring from his eyes. As expected, she felt the same searing pain in her own chest. She had just committed murder-suicide, and she had no idea if either one of them would ever wake from the dead, and make a full recovery.

She watched wordlessly as he threw himself into the truck, threw the truck in reverse and practically screeched out of her driveway. After he was gone, she realised she was still clutching the thermos of his coffee tightly against her chest, as if it were an old teddy bear that could provide comfort.

"Ugh!" she groaned loudly, looking around helplessly for something to lash out at. Fleetingly, she considered throwing the thermos to the ground, but the thought of Luke's precious coffee inside stopped her. Instead, she stepped over to her car, issuing a swift kick to the rear tire. "Ow!" Damn that hurt! Well done Lorelai, perhaps a career change is in order.. Dominatrix perhaps? You're a real pro at doling out the pain after all.

She needed to talk to someone about all this. Not just the problems with Luke, but everything; her parents, Rory, even the excitement over the success of the inn. As she headed back into her house to grab her bag and keys, she realised with yet another stab of pain that Luke was the person she usually shared everything with.

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Please don't hate me, and I know it seems repetitive, but I figured I should be telling both sides of the story. Hope I got Lorelai down, she's a damn hard character to write. Oh, also, I hope noone is offended with the mild swearing. Actually, I don't even consider those words swearing unless you're around a 2 year old who loves to repeat everything that comes out of your mouth. So yeah, my point.. I can imagine both Luke and Lorelai using 'damn' and 'crap', but since the actual show is rated what, G? I don't feel comfortable putting anything harsher into their mouths. OH! Also, to those that reviewed my first chapter, THANK you so much! Some of your comments were exactly what I was thinking in writing this fic. I was looking for something more angsty that didn't get to the fun too quickly, not that I don't enjoy reading that. This is I guess my attempt at what I can imagine happening next season. Maybe not so dramatic, but definitely as uncertain. Ok, I'm shutting up now. Maybe writing Lorelai has rubbed off on me... Anyway, never fear, this is:

To Be Continued...

PS puh-lease review!