Wednesday, January 3, 2001
Unlike the night before, Luke Danes slept like a baby after his confrontation with Lorelai. The hesitation in her voice, and the obvious shock on her face when he mentioned their New Year's Eve dance was not lost on him. No, if nothing else, it gave him hope. He drifted off to sleep knowing that she was not as ambivalent about what had happened between them as she wanted to be, as she wanted him to believe she was. And so, he awoke refreshed and renewed, and ready to push her buttons for a change. He hummed as he moved through the darkened diner preparing to open. He flipped on the lights, and scanned the sidewalk for the first sign of Kirk. Just as he unlocked the door, he heard an ominous thunk and then the whir of a fan grinding to a halt. He glanced up at an ancient air vent, and murmured, "Crap, no," as he reached up, hoping to feel warm air coursing over his fingers. Instead, he felt nothing at all.
Lorelai was cranky after a restless night of tossing and turning that she blamed on the excess of sleep she had indulged in the night before. She became even crankier when she got to work and discover that she would be forced to brave the frigid temperatures to overnight some important papers for Mia to sign and to buy stamps for the inn. Her teeth chattered as she drove through town, wishing that the heater in her Jeep could fight off the chill a little faster. She passed the diner and was surprised when she saw the sign on the door turned to 'Closed'. A frown furrowed her brow as she pulled over across the street from the Mailboxes, Etc. She leapt from the car and hurried across the deserted street, anxious to get to the heated store.
After taking care of her business, Lorelai pulled her gloves back on and stared out at the deserted square, the sub-zero temperatures keeping even the heartiest of New Englanders indoors for the day. She trotted to her car, holding her breath against the icy wind, and exhaled loudly when she pulled the car door shut behind her. "Stupid plastic windows, stupid removable top. What the hell was I thinking?" she muttered as she cranked the engine. She pulled a quick u-turn and then slowed as she approached Luke's. She stared through the windshield into the diner, and saw Luke moving around behind the counter wearing his old army jacket, gloves and one of those ski bands that was supposed to keep your ears warm. She pulled over to the curb, cut the engine off and made a dash for the door. When she found it locked, she rapped her gloved fingers against the glass to get his attention.
Luke quickly unlocked the door and snarled, "Can't you read?" as she stepped inside.
"What's going on? Why are you closed? Are you alright? Why is it so cold in here?" she asked as she followed him back behind the counter.
"Furnace is out, and Cy has to get the part for it, so I can't reopen until tomorrow," he told her as he poured the coffee he had started earlier into a to-go cup. He handed it to her and said, "There you go. It's been sitting for a while, so it should be about the consistency of the sludge that you like."
"I didn't come in to get coffee, I came in to see if you're okay," she insisted. Lorelai frowned at the cup and then took a cautious sip. She raised her eyebrows approvingly and then asked, "Why don't you go upstairs?"
"Not much warmer up there," he said with a shrug.
"So the whole building is out?"
"The blower is out, so yeah," Luke said with a nod.
"Why are you still here? You can't stay here, Luke," she insisted.
"Well, I was about to call you. I guess I need a room at the inn," he said as he rubbed his chin with his gloved hand.
"A room?" she asked blankly.
"That is what you do there, right?"
"Yeah, but Luke, we're booked solid. They canceled a lot of flights out of Hartford last night because they couldn't keep the planes deiced."
"Oh," he breathed. "Well, I had better start calling around then," he said with a shrug.
Lorelai shook her head and said, "You won't find anything within sixty miles."
"You're joking," he scoffed.
"The whole east coast is socked in with snow and ice and cold," she pointed out.
"Great," he muttered.
Lorelai watched as he ducked head and took a deep calming breath. "I can offer you a warm lumpy couch," she offered tentatively.
"What?"
Lorelai shrugged and said, "You can bunk at our place for the night. I'll have to call Rory, but I'm sure she won't mind, under the circumstances."
Luke studied her carefully as he asked, "Are you sure?"
"Let me call her now," Lorelai said as she started toward the diner phone.
Luke didn't even bother putting up a token resistance as he watched her dial. He listened to her conversation with half an ear, his mind whirring louder than the old blower on the ancient furnace. When she hung up, she turned to him with a bright smile and said, "Go pack your PJs, you're having a movie night with the Gilmore girls."
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
Lorelai nodded and said, "Rory said to send you over now, and she wants you to bring your toolbox, something about a sagging bookshelf. Looks like you may have to earn your keep," she said with a grin.
Luke leapt at the chance to spend more time with her. He schooled his features carefully and said, "Well, knowing you, I should pack up some food too."
Lorelai gasped and pressed her hand to her heart. "Excellent thinking! Pack up, you're moving in!" she cried happily.
**
Lorelai walked through the front door that night calling, "I'm never going outside again. I call that as the leader of this pack, I get to eat you if we run out of food!" She stuffed her gloves into her coat pockets and sniffed the air as she shrugged out of her coat. "What is that smell?"
"Chili!" Rory said as she magically appeared from the kitchen. "There's a big pot of chili cooking in our kitchen!"
"In our kitchen?" Lorelai asked wide eyed.
"Can we keep him? Please? Please?" Rory asked, giving her mother the doe eyes as she took Lorelai's arm and pulled her into the kitchen.
Lorelai looked up and saw Luke shaking his head as he stirred a simmering pot. "It is chili. In our kitchen," she whispered in an awed tone.
"This has been the best afternoon. Luke has fixed like ten thousand things," Rory gushed.
"Not ten thousand," Luke grumbled the color rising in his cheeks.
"Well, at least ten," Rory conceded.
Luke shook his head and said, "It wasn't ten, either," as he moved to the refrigerator and pulled the door open to reveal shelves stocked with food.
Lorelai gasped and covered her mouth as she stared at it agog. "What happened? What did you do to it?"
"I know! It's totally full! I've never seen it like that," Rory said as she shook her head in wonder. Luke rolled his eyes as he pulled out bulk package of shredded cheese. "Look! Look at all of that cheese!"
"I buy in bulk for the diner. I just grabbed what I thought we would need from the cooler. I've fed you before, so I know that it pays to go for the quantity discount," he grumbled good-naturedly.
"Am I dead? Is this heaven?" Lorelai asked Rory innocently.
"Can we keep him? I promise to take him out for walks. I'll even get him a plaid leash," Rory said with a winning smile.
"I know, Hon, but look at the size of him. How can we afford to feed him?" Lorelai answered with a grin.
"He comes with his own food! And a toolbox! Come look," Rory insisted as she pulled Lorelai into her bedroom. "He fixed the shelf, and put nails up so that I could hang that stuff," she said as she pointed to an array of pictures that now decorated her wall. "He fixed the bracket thingy on the back of my mirror so it doesn't lean forward anymore. Oh! And the drippy showerhead," she added as she pointed to the ceiling.
"Wow," Lorelai breathed. "It's not even my birthday."
"I know!" Rory said with a grin. "Oh, and the washer doesn't make the thumping sound, the toaster pops, and I think he put some of that white stuff in between the tiles that were loose in the tub. What's else did you do, Luke?" Rory called to him.
"It's no big deal," he said in an exasperated tone.
Lorelai walked back into the kitchen and said, "You know, I was joking about the earning your keep thing."
Luke shrugged and said, "I like to keep busy. I'm not much good at just sitting around.
Lorelai rolled her eyes as she sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Well, I am an excellent sitter arounder."
"I put a new washer in the kitchen sink," he said with a nod.
"Aw, no more second shower?" Lorelai groaned.
Luke glanced over at her and asked, "You want me to dig the old one out of the trash?"
"Hey, did you notice anything different when you drove up?" Rory asked.
Lorelai frowned and then looked over at Luke as she asked, "Did you paint the house?"
"He put a bulb in the porch light," Rory reported.
"Man, that thing has been out forever," Lorelai said in an awed tone. "I must not have noticed because of the Christmas lights."
"I'll take those down for you tomorrow," Luke said as he started to ladle chili into bowls.
"No!" both girls said at once, making him jump and slosh chili over the lip of the bowl.
"Geez," he muttered as he set the bowl down and wiped the drips from the side. "Why the hell not? Christmas is over?" he growled.
"It is not!" Lorelai said indignantly.
"Technically, no it's isn't, Luke," Rory agreed with a solemn nod.
"How do you figure? It's January 3rd," Luke said as he placed a bowls of shredded cheese, diced onion and sour cream on the table.
"There are twelve days of Christmas, Luke. The song is not a lie," Lorelai said in an exasperated tone. "We're only on day nine or ten."
Rory frowned as she thought about it and said, "Ten, I think. It depends on when you start counting. I figure it's the evening of Christmas Day," she said with a nod.
"Why are there twelve days anyway? Why not make it ten or five?" Luke asked as he carried the bowls of chili to the table.
"Because it took that long for the wise guys to get there, duh," Lorelai said as she jumped up to fetch some drinks.
"The mafia was involved?" Luke asked with a smirk. "I shoulda known."
"Traditionally, the Feast of the Epiphany marks the arrival of the Magi in Bethlehem, and the twelve days are the days between Jesus' birth and their arrival," Rory said. She shook her head as she sprinkled shredded cheese over her chili and said, "Man, Mrs. Kim would be so proud to know that she has managed to pound so much stuff into my head over the years."
"So, the lights can't come down until after January 6th," Lorelai concluded as she placed a bottle of beer in front of him. "That okay or do you want water?" she asked as she handed Rory a bottle of water.
"Beer is good," Luke answered.
"Beer is good," Lorelai agreed as she sat down with her own bottle. As she started to doctor her chili, she murmured, "Day ten. Ten lords a leaping."
"Only one lord here tonight," Rory said as she toasted Luke with her spoon. "But I do think you fixed ten things, so that kept you a leaping."
"Let's see; bookshelf, nails, mirror and showerhead. That's four," Lorelai listed.
"The washer, toaster, the tile stuff and the light bulb," Rory added. "That gets us to eight."
"Washer. The sink washer," Luke muttered.
"Nine," Rory said with a grin. "Think hard. Did you happen to fix anything else since you came over?" she pressed.
"Yes, he did," Lorelai said with a triumphant nod as she sat back in her chair.
"I did?" Luke asked blankly
Lorelai gestured to her bowl grandly and said, "You fixed chili. In our kitchen."
Luke smirked and shook his head. "Well, that was the hardest part of all. You're just lucky that I was smart enough to throw some utensils in the box with the food. Would it kill you to buy a ladle or a decent spatula?"
"Yes," Lorelai said soberly.
"This so good," Rory said as she dumped a handful of oyster crackers into the bowl. "I officially name you Lord of the Manor," she said happily.
"Hey, isn't that my job?" Lorelai protested.
"There was a coup," Rory said with a helpless shrug. "I hereby declare that he who fixeth things, chooseth the evening's viewing." Rory pronounced grandly.
Thursday, January 4, 2001
As Luke slipped his key into the lock on the back door to the diner, he whistled low and soft, bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep warm. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, and he rubbed his gloved hands together, hoping that Cy would be on time to fix the furnace. He stepped through the curtain and slipped on the wet floor, catching himself against the doorframe. "What the…" he growled. When he looked down he saw that the diner floor was covered by a fine film of water. "Oh, shit," he murmured. "Oh, shit no," he said as he picked his way carefully through water that had pooled deeper on the aged floor behind the counter. "Crap! Crap, crap, crap!" he said as he splashed his way into the kitchen, only to find it flooded, the water lapping at the toes of his boots. He heard the faint hiss of rushing water and realized that the freezing temperatures and lack of heat in the building had led to a burst pipe.
Luke hurriedly slogged his way back to the rear of the building and found the cut off valve for the water main. "God damn, stupid," he muttered under his breath as he struggled to turn the ancient knob. His chest heaving with exertion, his jeans wicking the water up and soaking the fabric to his ankles, he stared down at the closed value and listened carefully for the hissing sound. Satisfied that it had stopped, Luke covered his face with his hands, rubbing it hard as he blinked in disbelief. His shoulders slumped in defeat, Luke turned and started slow up the stairs to his apartment in search of a telephone and some dry clothing.
After numerous phone calls and hours of mopping, sopping and sucking water up with his trusty shop vac, Cy had the part installed. The furnace was running again, steadily drying the sodden diner as Luke contemplated his next move. The trouble now was getting the pipe fixed. Of course, it was a main supply line, so capping the pipe off at the rupture would still cut the water off to the apartment upstairs. Unfortunately, Sam, the local plumber, was overloaded with weather related disasters, and the soonest he would be able to get to Luke's would be the following day at the earliest.
Luke hung up the phone and stared at it with unseeing eyes. Another night at Lorelai's. Maybe two. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and wondered if maybe he should try to find somewhere else to stay. Not that it hadn't been nice, just hanging out with Lorelai and Rory, listening to their running commentary through the movie that they had eventually chosen after vetoing his choices, it had been. Very nice. And educational, too. He learned that apparently being named Lord of the Manor in the Gilmore household did not grant him any actual power. That had been fine with him though. He sat on the couch sipping a beer as the girls argued over the popcorn bowl, trying to drag him into their dispute as mediator. Luke remedied the situation my taking the bowl away from both of them. Then he learned that they were even more dangerous when they joined forces against him. Luke smiled, trying to remember the last time he had laughed as much as he had the night before. His smile widened as Luke remembered the way Lorelai had stretched her legs out during the movie, oh-so-casually tucking her toes under his leg to warm them. He looked over at her only to find her staring intently at the screen, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards slightly, daring him to acknowledge it. But he didn't; afraid that she would pull back, and dreading the moment of her retreat.
When the movie had ended, they grilled him on the details, asking his opinions on this and that, wanting to know what his favorite parts were. The fact of the matter was that he had a hard time paying attention to the movie at all. He had been too busy watching Lorelai. He remembered that it was some kind of fairy tale, but more of the fractured variety than the usual princess story. There was a giant, and a prince named Humperdinck, he knew that much. And, he noticed that the guy that played Columbo was in it. He listened to their protests and outraged cries of, 'inconceivable!' when he complained that the guy introducing himself over and over again was annoying. When pressed, Luke was finally able to spit something out about his favorite part being when the guy said that he was not left handed during a big sword fight scene. He managed a few more feeble answers, and that seemed to satisfy them.
After Rory had said goodnight, Luke watched Lorelai flit around like a butterfly, gathering blankets sheets and pillows, eager to make her lumpy old couch as comfortable as possible for him. She offered him dibs on the good bathroom so that he could change and get ready for bed as she tucked sheets around the couch cushions. When he came back downstairs a few minutes later dressed in sweatpants, a t-shirt and white athletic socks, Lorelai's eyes had widened fractionally and then she looked away quickly. She had rambled on and on, touting the superior quality and softness of each blanket, and offering him his choice of pillows. Luke smiled as he weighed his choices carefully, and opted for the one in the flowery pillowcase, which he hoped matched the sheets he had spotted on her bed while he was upstairs. Luke took the pillow from her and dropped it onto the end of the couch, and Lorelai had clutched the second pillow to her chest like a protective shield as he assured her repeatedly that he had everything that he could possibly need.
Luke smiled smugly, drumming his fingers on the phone as he remembered the look on her face when he reached down to rearrange some of the blankets.
"You have a tattoo?" she blurted.
Luke frowned as he looked up at her and then down at the arm that she seemed focused on. "Oh, yeah," he said with a nod.
"When did you get a tattoo?" she asked slowly, trying to add this new discovery to all that she knew about him already.
"Uh, about eighteen years ago," he said as he shrugged.
"Huh."
"Something wrong with that?" he asked cautiously.
"No. Not wrong," Lorelai said softly. She shook her head to clear it and said, "I mean, no, that's your business, not mine."
Luke smiled and said, "Most of the time I forget it's there."
"Kinda hard to miss," she said as she focused on her feet. "It's big. I mean, it's not like its a little heart or a Tweety Bird or something," she babbled.
"Dear God, no," Luke said with a low chuckle.
"Yeah, no kidding," she agreed with a nervous laugh. She had hesitated for a moment, standing on the bottoms step, hugging that pillow so tightly that Luke felt a faint ripple of jealousy. "Well, uh, okay. Goodnight," she said as she turned and jogged up the steps.
"Night," Luke called back as he reached to turn out the lamp. He settled down onto the pillow, smiling in the dark as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo on the pillowcase.
Luke ran his fingers over the receiver, itching to snatch it from its cradle and dial the inn, but for some reason, holding back. He knew that the more time he spent with her; the more he'd put himself out there. He knew that there was a good chance that she'd stomp all over his heart with her high heeled boots. He knew that if he pushed; she'd probably run. He also knew that, in the end, all of this debate would come to nothing, because wild horses couldn't keep him away from her house if she gave the go ahead. He lifted the receiver and dialed the number for the inn. When she answered the phone, he said, "Hey, it's me. Still got a lumpy couch available? I was thinking of making fried chicken," he added, just for good measure.
**
Lorelai knew that she shouldn't be in such a hurry to get home. She knew it was wrong to be so anxious to see him. She shouldn't have been so eager to will the afternoon away. She tried to convince herself that it was simply the lure of homemade fried chicken, and not the rumble of his deep laugh as he plucked the popcorn bowl from her grasp the night before. She tried to distract herself from the mental image of Luke standing at her stove stirring that pot of chili by coming up with a list of other little repairs she needed done around the house. She wanted to bleach that glimpse of the tattoo on his muscular arm from her brain, and fought even more desperately to squelch the overwhelming desire to lick his ink stained skin. No, she shouldn't be looking forward to going home to Luke in her house. It was all sorts of wrong. And very, very dangerous.
Lorelai didn't want to get used to having him around. She didn't want to become too accustomed to home cooked meals eaten at the kitchen table. The pitch of masculine laughter mixed with hers and Rory's shouldn't sound so right. She had never shared her couch, or her house, with anyone but Rory, and somehow he had changed all of that. Worse, he had made her want to change it. But, she told herself, it wasn't what she wanted. She was happy with the way things were. She wanted her hinges to stay unhinged, her screws to stay unscrewed and shower head to drip all night long. She should never have let him into her life. He was too sneaky. She should never have invited him into her home. He made it too easy to want more. She should never have kissed him. He was too delicious. Those kisses, so sweet and hot, were too tempting. And, oh, she craved those kisses, even though she knew she should never, ever have them again. All in all, Luke Danes was simply too dangerous to have around.
So, why was he around? Lorelai asked herself as she gripped the steering wheel harder and bit her lip. She was a masochist, that's why. When he called today, there had been a room available at the inn. She knew that she should have booked him into it, gave him a few extra pillow mints, and called it a day. But she was weak. He made her weak, and strong, all that the same time. And he'd be waiting for her there. At home. Her home. In her mind's eye, she piled layer after layer of flannel on top of that snug olive green t-shirt, she pictured 70s era red and gold striped tube socks pulled to his knees under those grey sweatpants, and swiped a barrel with suspenders from the naked guy in old cartoons to cover the way the worn grey cotton of his sweats had clung to what undeniably was a fantastic ass. No, she couldn't think about him like that. He was their trusted friend, their food provider, or even a somewhat tolerant older brother, she reasoned as she turned into the driveway. He was not a man. His chest wasn't warm and solid, his arms were not strong and gentle, his body was not hard and demanding, his lips were not soft and seductive. Lorelai stomped on the brake, the Jeep jerking to a halt inches from the bumper of his trusty old pick up truck. She blinked rapidly, her heart pounding as she turned the engine off. She opened the car door and sucked in a breath of frosty arctic air as she reminded herself that he was not the man in her life, he was just Luke.
Lorelai slammed the front door behind her, took a deep breath and then called, "Oh. My. God. It smells incredible in here!" She tossed her coat in the general direction of the hall tree, and made a beeline for the kitchen. "I swear, if we could make candles that smelled like that, we'd make a fortune," she said as she walked directly to the stove and peered around Luke's arm as he turned the chicken. He turned his head, and before she could catch herself, she tipped her face up, silently inviting a kiss hello.
"Uh, hi," he said softly, confusion knitting his brow.
"Hi!" she said too brightly as she took a hasty step back.
"I'm not sure that people would buy candles scented like frying chicken fat," Rory said as she walked from her room, her nose buried in a book. "But he did use eleven herbs and spices, so I think he may be Colonel Sanders in disguise."
"Uh, table, Hon," Lorelai reminded her. Rory blinked as she looked up and stopped just short of running into the kitchen table. Lorelai moved quickly to the relative safety of the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of water off of the shelf. She unscrewed the top a little too forcefully and asked, "So, was there much water damage?"
Luke shrugged, his eyes focused on the chicken as he said, "Hard to tell until it all dries out." He flipped a breast over, and tried to figure out what had just happened. "Looks like most of the damage was in the kissin, uh, I mean, kitchen," he stammered.
A small giggle escaped before Lorelai could stifle it. Luke shot her a glare, but Rory remained oblivious, sinking into her chair without lifting her eyes from the page. "Wow, the kitchen," Lorelai said with a devilish grin, pronouncing the word extreme deliberation as she lounged against the refrigerator door.
Luke slowly turned to look at her, keeping his back to Rory as he looked her directly in the eye and slowly said, "Yeah, that's a shame, isn't it?" Lorelai watched as his eyes fell to her mouth, and she could swear that she felt the heat of his stare on her lips. Unconsciously, she wet them with the tip of her tongue, a slow smile blooming as she saw his breath hitch in his throat.
"It's a damn shame," she drawled as she pushed away from the fridge. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go slip into something a little more comfortable," she said as she sauntered from the room, knowing that he was watching her.
A few minutes later, Rory said, "Okay. Chapter done," as she closed her book with a thud. She looked up at Luke and said, "I'm sorry, did you say that most of the damage was in the kitchen?"
"Uh, yeah," Luke said as she quickly turned back to the stove, trying to fight back the blush that rose in his cheeks.
"Man, that sucks. So if they get the pipe fixed tomorrow, will you go back home?" she asked.
Luke nodded and said, "Yep."
"Darn," Rory muttered.
Luke chuckled and said, "I cook for you guys every day anyway."
Rory shook her head sadly and said, "Yeah, I know, but it's not the same."
"I guess not," he agreed.
"Maybe you could come over once in a while, we'll let you make us dinner, and then we'll continue your cinematic education," she said with a grin.
"Gee, do you think I could be so lucky," Luke asked in a sarcastic tone.
Rory chuckled and said, "Sure! After all, Mom did say that we could keep you." Rory stood up and went to the cabinet to get plates to set the table. "After dinner, Dean is coming over. Tonight we will introduce you to This is Spinal Tap. It's a Mockumentary about a rock band," she told him.
Luke's eyebrows shot up as he said, "Wow. Right up your alley."
"Yes, and we're turning the volume up to eleven," Lorelai called as she trotted down the steps in pink sweatpants and a matching pink hoodie that zipped up the front.
"What?" Luke asked with a perplexed frown as he placed pieces of chicken on a bed of paper towels to drain.
Rory grinned and said, "You'll understand soon enough. I just hope that you don't spontaneously combust."
Luke looked over at Lorelai and tried to block the mental image of slowly pulling that zipper down with his teeth. "Yes, that would be bad," he murmured as he turned back to the stove.
Friday, January 5, 2001
If wanting Luke Danes was wrong, Lorelai Gilmore didn't want to be right. It had only taken one fantastic fried chicken dinner, three hours on the couch watching a movie she had seen a thousand times before, eight hours of fitful sleep interrupted by dreams of tiptoeing down the steps, ten days of intensive flirting with some kissing thrown in as a bonus, and about four years of friendship for her to be able to own up to it, but there it was. She wanted him. There was nothing wrong with that. They were both consenting adults. He's single, she's single. Everyone in entitled to have hormones, she reasoned as she sorted through the day's mail. She had an itch badly in need of a scratch, and he was just the guy to scratch her.
It didn't have to change anything. They could go on as they have been. They'd just be good friends with some special added benefits. There was no need to get all gushy or over-emotional about it. They cared about each other, respected each other, and wanted what was best for each other. There were far worse reasons to sleep with a guy, she told herself. They didn't need to pretend that there was nothing there, but they also didn't have to act like it had to be everything, right? It just is what it is. Two friends who enjoy each other's company and share an attraction, nothing more, nothing less. This could be the best thing for both of them, she justified as she carried some invoices into the office with her.
She wanted him, plain and simple. It didn't have to be complicated. Lorelai sat back in her chair, leaning away from the desk as she chewed on the cap of her pen. She didn't have to justify his obvious affection for Rory by saying that it was simply because her kid was less obnoxious than other teenagers; she could see that he cared for Rory just for being Rory. She didn't need to analyze whether it made her happier to see his smile or to hear his laugh, because she had seen and heard more of both of them in the last forty-eight hours than she had ever thought possible. She didn't want to have to spend thirty minutes every day dreaming up reasons and excuses to go into the diner; she wanted to walk in there with her head held high and claim him as her own. She didn't want to ignore the thrill she felt when he brushed past her; she wanted to press up against him. She didn't want to have to pretend that she was indifferent to his kisses; she wanted to savor them. No, she didn't have to deny herself, deny him. She could have whatever she wanted, whoever she wanted, and there was nothing she wanted more than to hear Luke Danes tell her that he wanted to be with her too.
**
There was no doubt about it, she was making him crazy. Another night under her roof, and he'd be just as nutty as she was. Luke thought he'd crawl right out of his skin last night. She sat so close to him. Close enough that he could smell her perfume lingering on her skin. Her arm brushed his occasionally, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't accidental. When one of the freaky British sounding guys made some comment about how the band had armadillos in their trousers, he would swear that he saw her eyes fall to his crotch. It wasn't just a question of lust. Oh, he wanted her alright. He wanted her so badly he could taste it. He fervently wished that he could taste her. Yes, there was that, but it was so much more than that.
He felt comfortable on her couch. There was no shifting around, trying to stay in an upright position, or keeping his feet off of the upholstery. She slouched and curled up, he slumped and stretched out. He felt happy when she laughed, especially when he could make her laugh. The sound of it rippled through him, leaving a trail of warmth that coursed through his bloodstream. He felt pleased and flattered as they raved about the meal he had prepared, carefully eying each other's portion of mashed potatoes to be sure that one wasn't taking more than her fair share, and laughing as he dug into his before they could swipe them from his plate. And every once in a while, he'd catch her watching him watching the movie, her lips moving silently in time with the dialogue as she waited anxiously for his reaction. When he chuckled, she beamed, when he groaned and rolled his eyes, she giggled, and when he laughed, she laughed. She'd glance away if he cut his eyes in her direction, but minutes later he'd feel the heat of her eyes on him again, and the whole cycle started over again.
Luke watched as Sam made steady progress on his repairs to the ruptured pipe, hoping that it could be fixed that day. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he waited for the final pronouncement from the plumber, hoping that he could go home. As much as he didn't want to, he needed to go home. If for no other reason than the fact that he didn't think he could go another whole night without telling her that he loved her.
**
The bells chimed as Lorelai flew through the diner door late that afternoon. "At least it's warm in here now," she called back into the kitchen.
Sam Stevens stuck his head out from around the door and said, "Luke's upstairs."
"Oh," Lorelai said as she sucked in a surprised breath. "Okay, uh, thanks, Sam," she called a she hurried toward the curtain that covered the stairs. She pushed it aside, and then muttered a low 'Oof!' as she ran directly into Luke's chest. "Man, we have to stop meeting like this," she joked lamely as she took a step back.
Luke grasped her arms to steady her, and chuckled. "You like to plow over people."
"I was just coming up to see you," she said by way of explanation.
"I just called the inn looking for you," he told her.
"And looking for love in all the wrong places?" she joked.
"More than likely," he said with a grave nod.
"So, what's the prognosis?" she said as she gestured toward the kitchen.
"Pipe's fixed, as soon as Sam's done in there, I'll patch the wall and start checking to appliances to be sure that everything is working properly," he said with a shrug.
"Good," she said with a quick nod, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "And tonight? Your apartment?"
"Oh. I'm good now, thanks," Luke told her.
"You're sure?"
"Just checked. Lots of heat and hot and cold running water," he reported.
"Oh," she said again, her shoulders sagging.
Luke cocked his head as he said in a low voice, "Bet you'll be glad to get your couch back again."
Lorelai's brow knit as she said, "What? Oh yeah, yeah."
"There are leftovers in the fridge," he told her.
Lorelai looked away, focusing her attention on the toaster oven on the back counter as she said, "Yeah. Unless…" she trailed off uncertainly.
"Unless?" he prompted.
"Well, you won't be able to open until later tomorrow, right?" she asked. When he nodded she said slowly, "Well, I was thinking, Rory pointed out this morning that you still have at least one more must see movie to watch."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. You have to watch When Harry Met Sally," she asserted.
"Sounds like a chick flick," Luke teased.
Lorelai shook her head and said seriously, "It's not really. It's about a guy and a girl and they become friends and stuff."
"Friends?" Luke asked.
"Um, yeah, well, yeah, that's the main part of it," she fumbled.
Luke lips quirked as she studiously avoided his gaze. "Like you and me?" his voice thick and warm.
"Maybe," she said softly.
"So, you want to watch this tonight?" Luke asked gently.
"Yes."
"No dinner at your parents?"
"Still in the islands," Lorelai replied.
"I still have a lot of work to do here, and even then, I don't know if I can open tomorrow," he said as he rubbed his neck tiredly.
"Well, this could be a good way to relax. It can be late if you want. How about I order a couple of pizzas?" she offered.
"That could work. I may not be able to get over there until nine or ten, though," he warned.
"No problem, I don't have to work tomorrow, and you don't have to be up to open," she said with a shrug. "Just come by when you're ready. Oh wait, give me about 30 minutes lead time to order the pizzas, and then come over," she amended. Lorelai began to back to the opposite side of the counter and then smiled at him brightly. "Rory is spending the night at Lane's tonight, so it will be just me and you," she told him in a softly challenging voice.
Luke swallowed thickly. "Me and you?" he asked blankly.
Lorelai turned on her heel called over her shoulder, ""You and me, me and you, buddy," as she headed for the door.
As the bells tolled her departure, Luke stared open mouthed as the 'Closed' sign swung back and forth against the glass. "Oh, God," he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
**
It was shortly after ten o'clock when Lorelai stood back and surveyed the living room as she marked off the mental checklist. Pizzas, one veggie, one carnivore, and never the twain shall meet. A fresh twelve-pack of beer in the fridge and a dozen votives scattered around the room cast a soft glow in the low lamplight. She glanced down at the snug jeans and pale blue cashmere sweater she wore, and nodded with approval. "Casual, but pretty, perfect for a movie night at home," she murmured. She pulled the v-neck of her sweater away from her skin and glanced down at the powder blue lace bra that matched the panties she wore. "Ready in there, girls?" she asked softly. "Operation seduce the diner man is about to commence," she said as she smoothed the soft wool over her hips. She looked around the room one more time and frowned at the candles that flickered along the mantelpiece and shook her head. "Waaaaay to obvious," she pronounced as she circled the room and blew three quarters of the candles out, leaving three lit on the mantle. She waved her hand to help dispel the smoke and turned to look at the fireplace. Although it galled her to admit that her father was right, Lorelai had the flue checked not long after Rory's birthday party. Unfortunately, it turned out that she was not a very good fire starter, and after filling the house with smoke and setting off all of the detectors for a second time, she gave up. There was a knock on the door, and Lorelai whirled around, her heart pounding like a bass drum in her chest. She took three deep breaths to calm herself, and then walked slowly to the foyer, hoping that Luke wouldn't be able to hear the steady thud, thud, thud as she opened the door.
Luke stood on her doorstep shivering in his thin cloth coat, his head hatless. "Stupid time to be vain, Danes," he muttered under his breath as he ducked down into his collar. He clutched a pink bakery box in his gloved hand, and shuffled from foot to foot as he waited. Lorelai opened the door and he looked up, stunned almost speechless by how beautiful she looked framed in the doorway.
"Hi!" she said as she beckoned for him to enter.
"Hey," Luke managed to utter as he stepped inside. He waited for her to close the door, and then held out the bakery box. "I thought about getting you some flowers, you know, as a thank you thing, but the flower shop was closed by the time I thought of it, and well, I thought this might work better anyway," he finished with a shrug.
Lorelai lifted the lid and saw a dozen cupcakes frosted with an inch of sparkly pink and purple swirls. Her jaw dropped as she said, "Oh! How beautiful," and promptly stuck her nose into the box to inhale their sweet bouquet.
Luke chuckled as he unzipped his coat and shoved his gloves into the pockets. "I ran out a little while ago and Weston's was still open. I figured they'd probably be a bigger hit than some lame bunch of daisies."
Lorelai grinned up at him and said, "You know me so well, but you should know that I like daisies too." Luke hung his coat on the rack and quickly unlaced his boots, leaving them to dry on the mat. "Beverage, sir?" she asked with a flirty smile.
"Please," Luke said as he followed her into the kitchen. Lorelai set the bakery box on the counter, swiped a fingertip full of frosting before letting the lid fall shut, and popped it into her mouth, sucking the sweet treat from her finger with a satisfied moan as she opened the refrigerator with her left hand. She grabbed two bottles of beer from the shelf and kicked the door closed as she turned back to him, releasing her finger with a pop, and then licking her lips. "Good?" he asked in a low husky voice.
"So good," she answered with a saucy smile.
Luke raised one eyebrow as he twisted the cap from her bottle and then his, and decided that two could play this game. He walked over to the trash can and tossed them both in before turning back to her. "So… Pizza?"
"Are you hungry?" she asked as she waved for him to follow her back into the living room.
"Starving. I didn't have time for lunch. Or dinner," he added as he dropped down onto the couch, sprawling over the center cushion.
Lorelai eyed the spot he had chosen with a surprised chuckle and said, "Yours is in the box on the left. I just figured that you didn't like anything good on yours and ordered you the gross one."
"Great, thanks," Luke said with exaggerated enthusiasm as he lifted the lid cautiously. To his relief, he saw nothing but the usual veggie pizza, and quickly slid two slices onto the paper towel that Lorelai had handed him. "Were plates one of those unfulfilled Christmas wishes?" he asked with a snort.
"Yes, along with a dishwasher," she said as she sat down on the cushion next to his. She leaned forward, letting her hair curtain her face, and feeling her sweater ride up over the waistband of her jeans as she reached for the pizza box. As Luke took a bite of his first slice, she asked, "Will you be able to reopen tomorrow?"
"Maybe in the afternoon, I still have a lot of disinfecting to do. If Taylor really wants to be a jerk, he can make me wait for the health inspector to clear me," he said darkly.
"I'm sorry, Luke, that's rotten luck," she said sympathetically.
"Yeah, and I was supposed to have good luck," he said as he shot her a sidelong glance.
Lorelai froze with her pizza halfway to her lips and blinked at him in surprise. "That's my fault," she said at last. "I probably wasn't the one you should have been kissing at midnight."
Luke shrugged. "Maybe not, but I bet the furnace still would have died and the pipe still would have busted if I had kissed Patty instead," he joked. He set his pizza on his thigh, and unbuttoned the cuffs of his denim shirt and rolled the sleeves back.
"Do you want a fire? I have firewood and those starter things, but I'm not very good with the fireplace," she said, abruptly changing the subject.
"I can start one if you want," he said with a nod.
Lorelai shrugged and said, "It's a cold night. A good night for a fire." When Luke moved to set his pizza aside, she placed her hand on his arm to stop him, feeling the soft hair tickle her palm. "Eat. The fire will wait," she said quietly as she reluctantly pulled her hand away.
"We'll be up all night watching the movie," Luke pointed out as he picked up his slice again.
"Oh well," she said with a shrug and a sassy smile. "It isn't that long anyway," she assured him.
They chatted about the things he would need to take care of before he could reopen, dreamed up schemes of pranks to play on Taylor that would have made the Coleman boys in room six proud, and picked out a few places to hide the body if he gave Luke any trouble about reopening. They sat close, his arm occasionally brushing hers as he reached for his beer, Lorelai leaning in even closer as she reached for another slice of pizza.
When Luke was through, he crumpled his paper towel and set it carefully atop the box containing the veggie pizza. "I'll start the fire," he said as he pushed himself up off of the couch. He stacked a couple of the logs she had sitting in the bin next to the screen onto the grate, and then asked, "Do you have any smaller ones?"
Lorelai suppressed the urge to ask why he needed a small one when he had two big ones, and instead mumbled, "Back porch," through stuffed cheeks.
Luke went to grab some kindling and when he returned a minute later, Lorelai stared in frank admiration as he squatted down to arrange the logs and start the fire. His denim shirt stretched tight across his shoulders and tapered down along his back where it was tucked securely into his jeans. Her eyebrows rose appreciatively as he leaned forward, arranging the kindling around the logs, and giving her a fabulous view of his butt. Lorelai sighed softly and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Levi Strauss as her eyes fixed on the tiny red tab sewn into the back pocket. She was distracted when he reached for the newspaper he had brought in with the wood and twisted it before lighting one end with the lighter she had used for the votives. Lorelai found herself mesmerized by his wrist and hand as he balanced himself against the floor and held the flaming paper to the kindling in various spots. He rested back on his heels, watching the fire take hold, as he reached up and rubbed the nape of his neck, kneading the tense muscles with his long fingers.
"There," he said at last as he rocked back on his heels and stood up again. He dusted his hands together and then turned to look at her as he asked, "Good?"
"Great," she answered, glancing down at the forgotten slice of pizza in her hand. She placed it on the paper towel she held and then tossed it onto the box as she reached for the remote. "I have us all ready to go," she told him.
"I'm gonna grab another beer, you want one?" he asked.
"May as well take it now, you know the rules," she said sternly.
"Yes, and I know that you break every one of them every chance that you get," he answered as he walked into the kitchen.
After he handed her a fresh beer, Luke sat back down toward the center of the couch, leaving her room to choose to sit next to him or to curl up against the armrest. Lorelai stayed put, and smiled at him as she pressed the play button. "I have it cued up," she said proudly.
"That's why they pay you the big money," Luke said as he twisted the top off of his beer. Lorelai held her bottle up for him, and he said, "Oh, sorry," as he quickly removed the lid.
"Thank you," she whispered as the movie began and she leaned a little closer to him.
Luke did his best to concentrate on the movie. He chuckled a few times during the drive from Chicago to New York, and then smirked when Sally dropped Harry and all of his belongings off near Washington Square Park. "Why do I have the feeling that you're Harry and I'm Sally?" he grumbled.
Lorelai smiled and reached up to touch one of the curls that flipped up behind his ear as she said teasingly, "Well, if the hair-do fits."
"Stop that," he muttered as he waved her hand away.
"I think we both may be a mixture of them. You aren't optimistic enough to be Sally." Lorelai laughed softly as she took the opportunity to shift a little, inching a bit closer still as he tried desperately to focus on a couple telling the story of how they met and fell in love.
While Harry and Sally met again on an airplane, Luke set his beer on the end table and stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. Lorelai glanced at him, checking his profile for signs of an imminent move, but finding none. She smothered her impatience as his arm stayed firmly on the cushion. Luke chuckled as Harry confided in his friend about the failure of his marriage while watching a football game and doing the wave. He watched with interest as Harry and Sally eventually became friends; confiding in each other, supporting one another, and spending more and more time together, and occasionally dared a glance at Lorelai when he was sure she wasn't looking.
When the infamous deli scene started, Lorelai leaned forward, seemingly to grab her beer, but more to watch Luke's reaction as Sally faked an orgasm in the middle of eating her turkey sandwich. She giggled as he shifted uncomfortably and turned to look at him as Sally pounded the table screaming, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' and tossing her hair. "What?" he snarled.
"Come on, it's funny," she said as she elbowed him in the ribs.
"To a woman, maybe. Harry isn't amused, either," he pointed out.
"Please," Lorelai scoffed. "Guys don't seriously worry about that, do they?"
"I'm not going to discuss this with you," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Aw, come on, it's just a movie," she cajoled as she tugged on his arm.
"Shh," he admonished as the scene ended and he pretended to be absorbed once again.
Lorelai waited, and by the time Jess and Marie had set up housekeeping, Luke had once again settled his arm on the back of the couch. She leaned back, feeling his body heat warming her neck, and slumped back against the cushions, her hair trailing over his arm. Sally called Harry in tears, sobbing about her former boyfriend's engagement. Lorelai felt Luke's arm tense slightly and then slip down to rest on her shoulder, his hand dangling dangerously close to her arm. She looked up when Harry and Sally suddenly began kissing, and saw the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth. Luke remained frozen in place throughout the resulting awkwardness and distance that grew between the two main characters. When Sally finally confronted Harry in the hotel kitchen at Jess and Marie's wedding, he muttered, "The guy's an ass."
"Shh, just watch," she whispered.
When New Year's Eve found Harry lying on his bed tossing a miniature basketball into a hoop as he ate Mallomars and watched Dick Clark, Luke nudged her arm with his hand and said, "I do not do that. Besides, I would never eat those things."
Lorelai turned to look at him and said, "Mallomars rule. You don't know what you're missing."
They watched Harry roam the streets of New York, trying to sort out why he felt so sad and alone, and thinking only of Sally. Suddenly Harry began running. Luke's hand rested on her arm, his thumb tracing absent circles on the soft wool of her sweater as Harry burst into a crowded ballroom in search of Sally. He confessed his feelings for her as the partygoers counted down to the start of the New Year, but Lorelai found herself staring only at the clock on the VCR as it flipped over to midnight. There, in the middle of a cold, cold night, she knew it wasn't just an itch that ached to be scratched. Her eyes focused on the screen again as Harry told Sally, 'I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.' Lorelai turned to Luke, her heart beating like a drum.
tbc