Notes: Dedicated to the Spectacular Jewels, who batted her eyes at me yesterday as encouragement to post this. Maybe I should have let her write this last chapter so it wouldn't have turned out quite so sweet and schmoopy! Anyway, hope you all enjoy!
While Luke sleepwalked through the second hour of breakfast service, he figured it out.
He was in hell.
That certainly seemed to be the most logical explanation. Somewhere along the line he'd died but just hadn't noticed it. Maybe on the night he'd heard the sirens. Instead of the Inn having a fire, maybe he'd been in an accident and died, and the sirens had been for him. He'd died and gone to hell, probably for telling Taylor one too many times to go there himself. That made more sense than what had actually happened.
That Poe guy had nothing on him. He was trapped in a hell of his own making. A hell of a hell. The anguish and shame and heartache harbored within him were burning him alive. At random intervals he heard Lorelai's voice again, begging him to talk to her. Every time her voice echoed in his head it felt like someone punched him in the stomach. And then he either dropped something or tripped over his own feet.
Sloshed coffee was starting to form a river on the counter.
The true hell of it was that although the utter shame of what he did was burning him alive, the words he desperately wanted to say to her were locked so deeply away he couldn't make them come out.
The irony of their situation made him rub his forehead in despair. He couldn't talk and she couldn't shut up. They were obviously made for each other.
He knew he was in even worse shape than he thought when he realized he was standing in the middle of the bustling diner, laughing to himself like a crazy person. He felt the troubled eyes of the town on him as they tried to ascertain whether or not he'd had a complete mental breakdown. Abruptly he turned and ran for the sanctuary of the kitchen.
Sanctuary. Lorelai. Leaning against the door in the moonlight...
"This place was my sanctuary," he heard her say again, the words kicking him savagely in the gut.
Hell, he thought, burying his face in his hands, trying hard to block the image. This must be hell.
The minutes of the day continued to crawl past, and at last he found his voice. No, not to go apologize to Lorelai. But to everyone else he couldn't shut up. He pestered every customer who came through the door.
"Did you hear about the fire? At the Inn? Have you heard anything else? Have you been by there? Oh really? Your nephew, huh? What'd he say? Have you seen Lorelai? Is she OK?"
He couldn't stop the babbling. He was desperate to hear any news. He couldn't stand not knowing how she was. Maybe the next person who came in the diner would know.
Finally Miss Patty reached over as he was interrogating one of the high school science teachers, Leo Farnsworth, who lived a street over from Lorelai. She gently tugged on his sleeve, drawing his focus.
"Excuse me, Leo," she said, smiling at the bombarded teacher. "I just need to have a word with Luke."
Luke looked at her, exasperated. He already knew she didn't have any news for him.
"Sweetheart," she said quietly, patting his hand. "Why don't you just go over to Lorelai's and see her? I'm sure she'd be happy to have the company."
He choked. "Can't," he said hoarsely, and went back to hide in the kitchen.
Jess came through the door around six and instantly confronted him. Jess shooed Luke towards the privacy of the back hallway, huffing in irritation.
"Man, what'd you do to her?" he hissed at Luke, as soon as they were away from listening ears. Luke's arms hugged his chest. His mouth tightened into a straight line of anguish, looking down at the floor in shame.
Shocked, Jess drew in a breath. "Aw, man! You really did do something, didn't you? You're not yellin' and tellin' me I'm crazy. You're not even pretending you don't know what I'm talkin' about! What the hell did you do?"
He shook his head, not looking at Jess. "Can't," he muttered painfully.
Jess' eyes drilled into him. "Lorelai's like a zombie. Rory's crazy-worried. Whatever you did, you need to fix it! Like now! You hear me?" He leaned in closer to Luke, trying his best to be intimidating.
Luke rubbed at his tired face, suddenly extremely worried that he was actually going to cry in front of his smart-aleck nephew.
"Geez, Luke." Jess looked away, uncomfortable with seeing his uncle so close to the edge. "Lorelai's hurt. Whatever happened, she's really hurt. You're going to take care of it, right? You're not going to let this go on, right?"
Luke cleared his throat, looking away. "I'll try," he managed to force out.
Jess seemed to accept that. "OK, then," he conceded, and headed upstairs to their apartment. He slowed about halfway up, then stopped completely at the top. He looked back down at Luke. "Are you OK?" he asked gruffly, trying not to show how really concerned he was.
"I'm in hell," Luke explained to him, resigned to the fact, before walking back into the diner.
Hours later Luke awoke, rescuing himself from the depths of a nightmare. He managed to stifle the yell that wanted to burst from his throat and instead laid there, feeling his heart race while he panted for breath and tried to reassure himself that it was a dream. Only a dream.
After a few minutes he was calm enough to look at the clock. 2:30. He didn't know what surprised him more: that he'd fallen asleep at all, or that he'd dreamed.
The night before when he'd stumbled into the apartment after destroying any chance he'd ever had with Lorelai, he'd flung himself down on the couch, knowing there was no way he could stand to be in his bed. He'd tossed and turned there all night. Tonight, though, he knew he had to try the bed, since Jess was observing him closely. He'd stripped off the sheets the way you might yank off a Band-Aid, quickly and all at once, not prolonging the pain. Even after putting fresh sheets and pillowcases on he swore that he could still smell sugar cookies. He hadn't even tried to get under the covers, but laid on top in his sweatpants and thermal top, his arm shielding his eyes from the memories now permanently stuck in the room.
But apparently tiredness had a limit, and eventually he'd fallen asleep, only to be awakened by the most vivid nightmare he could ever recall.
In his dream he was down in the diner. He walked around the tables in the darkened space and saw flickering orange lights of flames behind the counter. He started to run, panicking when he couldn't find the fire extinguisher. He raced around the counter and stopped dead when he saw Rory kneeling there, drawing a picture with crayons over the spot where his father had once written down an order. She was drawing him, surrounded by flames. Every lick of orange or red or yellow she added to the picture made the fire surge higher around the counter.
Rory, he'd screamed at her, his throat aching from the effort. We've got to get out of here!
She'd turned to him then, her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. She pointed at him, and suddenly the flames were all around him. He could feel the heat on his shins. Despair flooded over him when he realized he was trapped.
Rory stood up and nodded, satisfied at her artistic attempt. Bye, Luke, she said casually, and left him there to burn.
That's when he woke up, trading dream hell for awake hell.
He tried to find a comfortable spot. He tried to regulate his still-erratic breathing and calm down enough to drift off again. He could tell, though, by the adrenaline racing through his body, that there'd be no more sleep tonight.
He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to think what his next move should be. More than anything he wished he could just get out of Stars Hollow. He wished he could jump in the truck and leave this crazy town. He wished he could leave this mess and his heartache and her and never look back. But there was Jess, and the diner, and the people who depended on him for their jobs. And her.
Always...her.
He rubbed his head, frustrated and tired and heartsick. The longing to leave the diner kept coming back to him, and suddenly he thought of running. Not running away; just running. Being outside in the cold, crisp air. Giving his body something to do. Clearing his mind.
It was the first actual plan he'd come up with, and he decided to go with it. As quietly as possible he found his running shoes and some socks. He grabbed a zippered sweatshirt and stealthily left the apartment. He sat on the steps and put on the socks and shoes, shoving his arms into the jacket's sleeves as he went down the stairs.
He paused right before he unlocked the door, leaning his forehead against the frame. It was dark, but there was some moonlight, and he knew the town as well as he knew the layout of the diner's storeroom. He knew he could find his way. In his mind he tried to plan a route through the streets. He wasn't surprised that his mind mapped out the way to Lorelai's.
He decided that wouldn't be his worst course of action. He'd run for a while, and if he ended up on her front porch, that might be for the best. He could sit there and wait to see her in the morning. Maybe the run would clear his head enough that he could come up with a decent apology. Maybe by then his voice would work.
The decision to do something made him feel so much lighter. Suddenly hopeful, he opened the door and stepped out...
…and nearly broke his neck tripping over Lorelai, who was huddled into a comforter on his top step. He grabbed hold of the pink knitted cap on her head to catch himself.
"Ow!" she complained.
"Sorry!" he said automatically. That one word opened his throat. His hand caressed the top of her head; slid down her cheek; kneaded her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice raw with grief. He sank to his knees on the step beside her. His arms wrapped around her and he drew her close, breathing in her warm sugar cookie smell, once again feeling alive and whole. "I'm so sorry, Lorelai. I'm so, so sorry." He rocked her back and forth in his arms.
Relief flooded through him when he felt her nod her head against him.
He shifted his weight back on his heels and then sat down next to her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, suddenly terrified that her presence could also be nothing but a dream.
She shared her comforter, spreading it over his legs. "Two of the biggest things in my life caught fire and burned down around me this week," she said, a quaver in her voice. "The Independence―that's ruined. That's out of my hands. But you―" She shook her head vehemently. "I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you too. When last summer was over―when you'd finally forgiven me and agreed to talk to me again―I realized this is what I should've done. I've should've camped on your doorstep and made you deal with me instead of writing you letters and giving you space. So here I am. I'm not going away. I'll be here every night until we're back to normal." He could feel how tense she was; he could hear the determination in her voice.
"There's no need to do that," he attempted to assure her.
"I…misjudged…the circumstances. I'm willing to admit that. But I promise I won't do it again," she rushed on, her hands nervously bunching the quilted fabric on her lap. "I can be good, I promise. I can―"
He pressed a finger gently against her lips, and she shuddered as she drew in a breath. "Shh," he advised. "You misjudged nothing. You were absolutely right. I wanted you. I wanted you so much it made me crazy. I wanted you so much that it turned me into somebody else. Somebody I didn't like very much." He then took her gloved hands and held them underneath the comforter, rubbing them to make sure she was warm.
"Remember when I said that it was my mess, not yours? Well, I meant that. I wasn't just being gallant. I was the one who did everything wrong, not you."
"No, Luke, I―"
"Not you," he said firmly. "Lorelai, I've had years and years to think about what it would be like to have you interested in me. Years to imagine what it'd be like to be with you. And then I did everything wrong. It was the wrong time. You were exhausted and an emotional wreck from the fire. Even for me it was the wrong time. Nicole had literally just walked out of my life only a few hours before. You'd been drinking, and I don't care what you say, alcohol rarely tells the truth. And, man, was it the wrong place. You'd allowed me to see this place that meant so much to you. Your sanctuary. Your castle. This place you'd shared with Rory." He shook his head, still disgusted at his actions. "And here I was, trying to defile everything it meant to you. I couldn't have picked a worse place."
He felt her staring at him, and finally he turned his head to meet her gaze. "I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. I'm so sorry about how I treated you. I'm so sorry about everything."
She continued to gaze at him for a few more moments. She squeezed his hand, then soberly looked out over the square.
"You're right, Luke, the potting shed does mean a lot to me." He watched her eyes trace over the twinkle lights vining around the gazebo. "I grew up there. Rory grew up there. I figured out how to be a mom there. Lots of stuff happened there. Good stuff. Nice memories. But no guys. The only guys ever in my bed were Prince Charming and Ken. And maybe Mr. Potato Head a time or two. And let me tell you," she said emphatically, "I spent a lot of nights fantasizing about how perfect the guy would have to be to finally join me there." She swung her face around and looked at him directly. "Frankly, I couldn't think of a better place for us to make love for the first time."
His heart stopped as he stared at her. His brain tried to dissect what she'd just said.
"F-first time?" he finally stuttered out.
"Well, yeah." She looked back across the street, but he could see her lips turning up in a smile. "I'm not a one-night-stand type of gal. And I never thought you were the love 'em and leave 'em type of guy. But maybe you are. Maybe you've got a little black book tucked away in your safe upstairs."
"So are you saying…" His eyes darted around, trying to decide how to phrase it. "Do you see us as a…couple?"
"Luke! Hello?" She drew her hands out from under the covers and waggled her index fingers at him. "Did you forget my demonstration from the other night? You and me, remember?" She rubbed her fingers against each other. "I can get more graphic, if you want," she offered. She pushed her fingers together and started making kissing sounds.
"Stop," he said, putting his hand over hers and effectively blocking the demonstration. He smiled, but his heart wasn't in it, and she could tell.
"Hey," she said gently, bumping against his shoulder. "Tell me what else is going on up here." She ran her fingers lightly through his hair.
He folded his arms, biting down on his bottom lip as he debated the pros and cons of being completely honest with her. At last the words came out. "I don't want to lose you."
She scrunched up her forehead, puzzled, staring at him. "You're not. That's why I'm here."
He shook his head, stone-faced. "I don't mean now. I mean later. What if we try, and then you decide I'm not the guy you want after all. I'm not sure I could―" His throat suddenly closed down on him, and the next words came out all hoarse. "I don't think I could stand that."
She put her hand on his knee but didn't look at him. She took her time gathering her thoughts. "I had a lot of years at the Independence. They were good years, and if they're over now…Well, that makes me really sad. It breaks my heart, actually. But I still wouldn't give up those years, just so I wouldn't feel sad now." She rubbed his knee. "I'd like to promise you that I'm not ever going to leave you, but I don't know that for sure. It might be that we try this and find out we hate each other. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. But I'd like to try." She leaned over against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "I'm here right now, Luke, fighting for you. You've known me for a lot of years. You know I've never done anything like this before."
"Yeah," he sighed. He put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He laid his head down against hers, rubbing against it softly, needing to confirm that she was really here with him.
After some minutes of companionable silence, Lorelai spoke up. "I know that you're not a spur of the moment guy, so if you need some time to think about this―"
"No. I know. I've always known," he spoke up. "I want this. I want to try."
"Good," she said, sounding relieved. Playfully she held out her hand. "Deal?"
"Deal," he agreed at once, enfolding her hand. He raised it up then, in front of them. "Which one's you again?" he asked, lightly skimming over her fingers.
"This one," she smiled, wiggling it at him.
"Oh, yeah." He stripped off her glove and lowered his head, kissing the pad of her index finger, watching her. He both felt and saw the shiver run through her.
"Oh, God," she exhaled dreamily. "I mean, good. Good deal."
"Mmm," he agreed. He dropped his hand and reached for her face, pulling her towards him. Right before he reached her lips, he paused, letting the anticipation wash over them. Then he couldn't stand it anymore and latched his lips to hers, his heart soaring when they connected once again.
"Sealed with a kiss," she whispered happily, once they'd broken apart.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close to him as he could. "I was on my way over to your house," he whispered against her hair.
The glow from her smiling face gave off a warmth he swore he could feel. "Really?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm," he confirmed. "I couldn't stand knowing I'd hurt you. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I thought maybe I could just sit on your porch until you came out, and then hopefully the words would come."
"Great minds," she said happily, her voice sounding a little drowsy.
"Were you really going to sit out here every night, if you had to?"
"Yep." She shrugged, snuggling a little closer to him. "It's really not so bad. I just wish I would've brought a cushion."
"You must be freezing," he fretted, drawing the blanket further up on her arms.
"Not really," she said, trying not to yawn. "I've got some of those heater pack things in my pockets that hunters use."
He smiled at that. "Does Rory know where you are?"
She closed her eyes, leaning heavily against him. "Who do you think bought me the heater pack things?"
He stood up, helping her up too, before she could topple over. "Come on."
"No, Luke," she whined like a sleepy toddler. "I don't want to go yet! We just made up!"
He hugged her to him, kissing the hair right above her ear but below the knitted cap. "Come upstairs with me. Let's get some sleep."
She leaned away from him, trying to glare suspiciously. "I expected something better from you, Luke. That's not even a line! You could at least try to entice me with your etchings!"
He chuckled a little, which was something he thought he'd never do again just a few hours ago. "You know Jess is up there. We'll be properly chaperoned. But we're both exhausted." He tipped her head up and kissed her lips slowly. "I don't want to let you go yet. I think we'll both sleep better together."
"Lead the way, you sweet talker," she agreed.
He helped her gather up her comforter and opened the door to the diner. She stumbled on legs that had gone numb during her vigil, and he put his arm around her and steered her to the stairs.
When they were nearly to the top he pushed on her shoulder for her to sit down, and she was so tired that she did it without question. He backed up several steps below her and carefully raised one of her feet to rest on his thigh. He untied her shoe and slowly eased it off of her foot, taking the time to let his hand rub across the arch and then her ankle, and even boldly under the hem of her jeans, sliding up her shin. He listened to her take several quivering breaths when he did the same thing to the other foot.
"Damn," she groaned, when he'd finished and was helping her off with her coat. "You are so good at that. If I had any energy left at all, I'd have you downstairs right now, acting out a couple of diner fantasies I've always had."
"Tomorrow," he muttered, finding it difficult under the circumstances to give the words his normal deadpan delivery. "I'll reserve us a table."
Lorelai hooted with laughter, then clapped a hand over her mouth, remembering that Jess was asleep just inside the door. "You're good," she told him in delight, throwing her arms around his neck.
"You don't know that for sure, yet," he reminded her, smiling against her hair. He pulled off the knitted cap, running his hand through her wild curls.
"I think I know," she whispered into his ear, the sexiness factor losing a little something when she yawned again.
"Come on," he urged. He opened the apartment door and guided her through the dark room to his bed.
"You think we'll fit?" she whispered doubtfully into his ear.
"I'll make us fit," he replied confidently.
A giggle escaped. "That's what he said."
"Shhh." He pushed at her shoulder gently. "Lay down."
His heart flopped over as he watched her stretch out on his bed. He took a calming breath and flung her comforter over the bed, making sure her feet were covered before he climbed in beside her, facing her. He got his arm under the cover and pushed on the small of her back, drawing her as close to him as possible.
She gave a little moan at the contact. "Shhh," he reminded her again. "But...yeah," he sighed into her ear.
They kissed dozens of times, their mouths brushing over cheeks and noses, lips and ears. Her top had ridden up and Luke found that perfect strip of skin that lived in his dreams. He rubbed her back comfortingly, and soon he felt her breathing even out and deepen.
He was drifting towards sleep too, when one last thought came to him. "Lorelai," he breathed out, so quietly that it wasn't even a whisper. He didn't want to wake her if she was truly asleep.
Her fingers rubbed soft circles against his shoulder.
"Thank you," he whispered to her.
"Hmm?"
"For not giving up on me," he clarified, still holding her close. "For fighting for me."
She nuzzled her face against his neck. "You'd do the same for me," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
His eyes blinked in the dark, the truth of that washing over him. "Yeah," he agreed. "I would."
They cuddled together and sleep peacefully settled over them both.
The next morning Luke kept a close eye on the diner clock. When the numbers clicked to 6:45 he marched to the phone on the wall and dialed the Gilmore's phone.
"Um, Rory," he said tentatively, when she picked up the phone on the sixth ring. He hadn't really planned out what he was going to say. "Uh, this is Luke. Luke Danes."
She giggled. "Yeah, Luke. I know it's you."
"Oh. OK," he breathed out. "Listen, um, I wasn't sure if you knew or not, but, uh, your mom―she's over here. She's here with me. Well, she's not right here with me," he rambled on, suddenly worried that Rory would ask to speak to her. "She's still upstairs in bed. She's asleep." His eyes opened wide as he realized how that sounded. "Not with me," he hurriedly explained. "I'm down here. In the diner." He shut his eyes and shook his head, realizing that every word he said just made it worse.
It sounded like Rory choked off another giggle. "So did you guys reach an understanding?" she asked, managing to sound serious.
"Yeah, we did," he confirmed.
"Good," she said happily. "And that means the two of you are on the same page?" she asked, a sudden sharper note in her voice.
"We are," he agreed, his voice going solemnly deeper.
"Good," she sighed. "Does that mean we'll be seeing more of you over here?"
"Probably," he smiled.
"That's a relief," he heard her mutter. "So. Double dates. Pro or con?"
"What?" he asked, flustered.
"You and Mom, me and Jess. Ooh, just think of the fun we can have!"
"Rory―"
"Oh, I can't wait to tell Jess! He's going to be so excited! This is like a dream come true! Maybe we can all go see a movie over the weekend."
"Go to school, Rory," he growled, a tiny smile still curling his lips.
"Tell Mom I'm taking the Jeep today. She won't need it."
"OK," he agreed.
"Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really happy about this."
"Me too," he said softly. "Have a good day at school."
"You have a good day, too," she said pertly. She paused. "But with Mom there with you I'm sure you will." She paused again, apparently registering what she'd just said. "I mean, because she'll be happy, you know? I mean, because you guys made up, and you'll be together, and―You know what? I'm hanging up now."
"Bye, Rory," he said gently, helping her out of the awkward conversation.
"Bye, Luke," she said gratefully.
It was going on 11 before Lorelai's slightly embarrassed face peeked out from under the curtain. She had on her coat and was trying to maneuver the clumsily bundled comforter in her arms.
"Sorry," she said, as soon as Luke approached her. "I didn't mean to sleep so long."
"I'm glad you were able to," he told her, his hand lighting on her shoulder, unconsciously rubbing it. "You want something to eat?"
She ducked her head, smiling, but something told him she was a little ill at ease. "Um, waffles?"
"Sure," he agreed at once.
She smiled a little brighter, but shook her head. "You'll probably need to work on building up some resistance. Otherwise I'll take advantage and order everything on the menu." She started to head over to her favorite stool.
"Not there," he said, grabbing her arm. "Our table's over here." He pointed her to a table in the corner, where he'd placed a "Reserved" sign printed on a piece of cardboard.
He watched her eyes light up, recalling their early morning conversation. She turned to him, laughing, her face beaming. He seated her and she looked up at him, grinning in delight. "Are you sure the Board of Health won't fine you for this?"
"I'll bribe 'em," Luke assured her. He brushed his hand over her shoulder and arm one more time before heading off to the kitchen to make her waffles.
When he brought them out she inhaled her food in record time. "Sorry," she winced, anticipating his lecture. "I really haven't eaten very much the last couple of days."
"I understand," he said. "Do you want some more?"
She looked at him sharply. "Luke, you're really going to need to beef up your resistance. You know I'll walk all over you if you let me."
He shrugged, looking off over her shoulder. "Don't worry about that. I'm sure the charm will wear off eventually," he said dryly. "But today…" He looked down at her, smiling gently. "Today you get anything you want."
"Really?" she drawled out, raising her eyebrows speculatively. "Anything? You'll get me a pony?"
He grabbed her hands and pulled her up from her chair. "If a pony's really what you want, I'll get you a pony," he promised. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her mouth. He kept the kiss brief, but the intensity of it sizzled on their lips.
"I don't want a pony," she sputtered out, gasping for a breath.
"No? OK. Well, you think today about what you do want, then," he advised her. "You can tell me when I pick you up around 7."
She beamed at him again. "You're taking me out?"
"Yep," he confirmed.
"Someplace special?"
"Really special."
"What should I wear?"
"Something casual." She looked at him doubtfully, so he rushed to assure her. "It's special, but cozy. Wear anything you want."
He walked her to the door, and once there he gave her another brief, intense kiss, because truthfully he really couldn't resist her.
"Um, Luke," she mumbled, ducking her shoulder towards the few diner patrons in attendance, none of whom were any of the town regulars.
"I don't care who knows. Do you?" he asked.
"No," she agreed. She smiled and rose up on her tiptoes, kissing him again. "See you at 7," she said giddily, and left the diner.
He watched her until she was out of sight, appreciating the view. Then he turned, smiling, back to the diner. He looked at the clock, confirming that all of his employees should be turning up soon. He'd called in everybody to take over for him the rest of the day. He had a lot of plans to accomplish before 7. Hopefully a nap would also be included.
He started to walk briskly to Lorelai's table to clear it. He stopped and shook his head when he saw that her forgotten comforter still spilled over two of the chairs and down onto the floor.
"Oh! You're really taking me somewhere?" Lorelai asked, sounding perplexed, as they drove through the center of town that evening.
"Well, yeah. That's the plan, right?" Luke replied, all sorts of doubts suddenly assailing him.
"Right, right!" she agreed at once, too heartily. "I don't know why, I thought maybe you were just going to cook for me at your place."
Luke felt the scowl settle on his face while he chewed the inside of his cheek in indecision. His careful plan had seemed perfect up until a few moments ago. Now he wasn't sure about anything.
He knew they were both nervous, and the idea that Lorelai was nervous about anything was freaking him out. He knew she wanted this night as much as he did because when he'd shown up at her place a good fifteen minutes early, she was already dressed and waiting on him. She'd hugged him and given him a shy kiss on the cheek, even with Rory seated just a few feet away, the grin on the girl's face giving away the fact that she wasn't really reading the book in front of her.
"I've relaxed her curfew for tonight," Rory had told him as they headed for the door. "Lane's going to come over and spend the night watching forbidden movies with me, so don't worry about me being by myself. You young folks just have a good time, you hear?"
"Thanks, Mom," Lorelai mocked, rolling her eyes for Luke's benefit. She'd grasped his hand and pulled him out the door.
"Don't forget about our double date!" Rory yelled from the living room, just before Lorelai shut the door soundly.
The next awkwardness occurred when Luke escorted her around the truck, opening the door to help her in. Shame nearly suffocated him when he recalled how he'd forced her out of the truck two nights before.
He passed a hand over his face and cleared his throat in discomfort, trying to find the right combination of words to tell her how ashamed he still was.
"Again, Lorelai, I'm so, so sorry―"
"Hey." She leaned over from fastening her seatbelt, putting one hand on his shoulder. The other hand raised his face so he could see her. "We've moved on from there," she said, ever-so-gently. "That's old news now."
"Right," he agreed, mesmerized by her dazzling eyes. He came back to earth, shut her door, and hurried around to his side.
After that, the nervous silence had filled the cab of the truck.
Now he once again reviewed his plans for their night. Things that he'd been so proud to think up now struck him as silly and presumptuous. Panic started to fill up his mind.
"Luke," Lorelai said, in a way that made him think it wasn't the first time she'd tried to get his attention.
"What?" he barked out.
She smiled and reached over and put her hand right above his knee, squeezing gently. "Wherever you're taking me, it'll be fine. We'll have fun," she promised him. As she leaned back into her seat, she gave him a wink. "And I'll tell you a secret: even if this night completely sucks, I'll still go out with you again."
"Right," he breathed out, trying to relax. "But if you hate the idea, once we get there, tell me, OK? We'll go somewhere else."
She looked at him curiously. "OK."
He gulped and drew in a deep breath and turned into the driveway of the Independence Inn.
"Oh, Luke," she said, and her voice was a mixture of surprise and happiness and…something else that he couldn't quite name.
The police tape had been taken down and in its place was a sign stating that only persons with approval from the owners of the property were allowed on the premises. Luke drove around the sign and parked back behind the kitchen area, as close to the potting shed as it was possible to get.
"OK?" he asked, still able to hear the nerves in his voice.
"Perfect," Lorelai replied, a humorous…no, pleased…maybe satisfied note in her voice. He still couldn't dissect what it was.
She hopped out of the cab before he could get around to her so her offered her his hand and together they walked up the path to the little cottage.
"Oh!" As they got closer, she pointed to the grill he'd set up earlier in the day right beside the front door. "You are cooking for me!"
"That's the plan," he confirmed. While Lorelai reached behind the shutter for the key, he opened the lid of the grill just long enough to verify that the coals were ready to cook their dinner.
Lorelai opened the door and they stepped inside. She sniffed in appreciation while Luke rushed to light the kerosene lamp on the counter.
When he turned back from that task, Lorelai had her face buried in a bouquet of lilacs, forsythia and pussy willows sitting in the center of the table. "So pretty," she said, a particular softness throbbing in her voice that made him swallow hard. "Thank you."
He nodded, pleased that she was pleased, and went over to the pot-bellied stove in the corner of the room. He opened the stove's door, putting in some more coal. The room wasn't exactly toasty, but it had definitely taken the chill off.
He hurried back over to the table, pulling out a chair for her to sit upon. She started to take off her coat, so he helped her with that first. It made him smile that they'd both worn their brown leather coats tonight.
He tried not to get too distracted by what else she was wearing. The short black skirt and tall black boots had piqued his interest as soon as his eyes landed on her back at the house. Now that the coat was coming off he saw that she had on a fire-red sweater that dipped down in the front just enough to make his mouth water. The color set off her pale skin to perfection and made her cheeks glow. "So pretty," he said thickly, echoing her words about the flowers back at her. He rubbed the soft knit material on her arm.
"You look pretty good, too," she cooed back at him, laying her hand flat on his chest. He had on black dress pants and the black sweater she'd picked out for him years ago. He could tell she knew it was that one by the proprietary way she was eying it.
"I'm going to go get our dinner started," he told her. "But here, I've got something to start with." He pulled out a plate of cheese and crackers from an ice chest on the floor. Then he grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and filled two glasses.
"So prepared." She studied him, cocking her head in appreciation. "Boy Scout, I presume?"
"Of course." He smiled. "Or maybe I just believe in their motto," he suggested before he rushed outside.
When he came inside a few minutes later, the small space seemed to be glowing with dozens of tiny candles in miniature, clear jars. Two tall tapers were burning in matching brass holders in the center of the table. He stopped in surprise and looked around as he began to take off his coat.
"I found some candles," Lorelai said easily.
He realized he heard music. He turned and spotted a small portable radio on the counter behind him.
"And a radio," Lorelai added, with just a touch of defensiveness in her voice.
She'd tuned into a station that specialized in music from their teen years. This time of night they usually only played the softer ballads.
"Nice," he said, meaning it.
"I think so," she said.
He'd set the table earlier in the day when he'd brought over most of the other things. Now he pulled out a take-out box from the cooler and divided up a salad between their plates.
"Salad?" Even while frowning she still managed to look gorgeous. "Really? You're making me eat salad?"
"Yes," he said simply. He tilted her head up and bent down to give her a lingering kiss. "It's good for you," he said, hoping he didn't sound too breathless.
She drew in several deep breaths of her own. "OK," she said, in a trance, and obediently started to eat the salad.
Luke apologized for having to keep jumping up and down to check on the food grilling outside, but finally he was able to bring in a plate full of skewered meats and vegetables and a skillet of bubbling potatoes.
"Wow! That smells fantastic!" Lorelai's head whipped around as soon as he entered the door.
"Beef or chicken?" he asked, pointing to the kebobs.
"Do you have to ask? Both!" she demanded, her smile wide.
He carefully unloaded two of the skewers onto her plate. She was fairly dancing in her seat, anxiously waiting to try them.
"This is really good!" she praised him, fanning her mouth a little bit because of course she couldn't wait until it had cooled enough. "You need to make these in the diner."
He nodded and ducked his head, pleased she liked them.
She gobbled some more, then paused, chewing more thoughtfully. "Lime?" she finally asked.
He nodded again. "Yeah, I marinated the chicken and beef in some lime juice." He took a bite himself. "And tequila," he added, grinning.
She laughed. "Good choice!"
"Thought you might like it," he admitted.
Their awkwardness faded as they sat and ate together, the act of Luke cooking and Lorelai eating making it seem more natural. They chatted comfortably, just like old friends should. Every now and then the fact that they were here, together― together-together― made their eyes widen in realization and the words catch in their throats, but as the evening wore on those glitches passed away.
For dessert Luke grilled slices of pound cake, over which he poured a peach sauce that had been simmering on top of the stove.
Lorelai appeared to be in heaven. "This is so good," she moaned, for perhaps the twentieth time. "This beats anything Sookie makes."
"Now I know you're lying," Luke protested. His eyes were arrested when she deliberately dipped her right index finger into the sauce and licked it off, her eyes meeting his in challenge. He was about to tell her to knock it off or beg her to let him do that―he wasn't sure which―when an authoritative fist pounded on the door.
They both jumped and looked at each other guiltily. The fist pounded again. Luke got up and went cautiously to the door, Lorelai tucked behind him.
He opened the door slightly and Deputy Larry Coopersmith looked him over before shifting his eyes over to Lorelai. "Evening, Lorelai," Coop said. "Everything all right here?"
"Oh, yes, Larry, everything's fine," Lorelai rushed to assure him. "Luke and I are, um, we're just, uh, checking to make sure that, um, the fire didn't damage anything back here."
Coop kept his face straight. "Good idea," he said wryly. "You can't be too careful." His gaze flicked over the candles and their wine glasses on the table.
"Right, right, that's what I think," Lorelai agreed, shooting him one of her blinding smiles.
"Well…" he gave them both a sly look. "I guess I'll just tell the rest of the force that they don't need to patrol back here tonight. You know, we've been doing that since the fire."
Luke sucked in a breath and Lorelai jumped in. "Right. No need for a patrol. Everything's fine back here," she rushed to assure him again.
"Thanks, Coop," Luke said gruffly, and watched as the deputy gave him either a look of warning or maybe of congratulations. He was too embarrassed to look at him closely enough to determine which.
"Goodnight folks," Coop said pleasantly, turning from the doorway and heading back down the path to his patrol car.
Both of them drank in a breath of relief, watching Coop leave. Luke shut the door and they moved back towards the table, but Lorelai could feel that awkwardness had snuck back in with the interruption.
She didn't like that.
She reached out and caught Luke's arm before he could sit back down. "Dance with me?" she urged, putting everything she had into trying to look enticing.
He examined her, in the calculating the way he did sometimes, like he was weighing physical pleasure against whatever she could find to mock him with.
"No hidden agenda," she promised him, pulling him gently towards the small open space in the room. "Just want to be with you," she added softly, putting her arms up around his neck. She stepped closer to him, swaying her body against his in time to the music. "Just want to feel you against me," she sighed into his ear.
She felt the jolt that passed through his body. His arms circled around her, his hands pressing against her back, drawing her close.
They both knew they weren't dancing. The music was just an excuse to hold each other. An excuse for their bodies to mold together. An excuse for their hands to greedily feel the sweaters covering the skin on their backs.
She felt his breathing change. She trembled as he reached a hand to her face. She let the hot rush of need wash over her when his mouth finally joined with hers. She gave him everything and more, hoping he could feel how much that was.
They were both a little shaky when they pulled back. She put her hands against his arms and pushed a little bit more, needing some space away from him so that she could talk. She didn't want any secrets at all. Not from him. Not any more.
"So I should tell you something," she started, her eyes darting, and she could sense him tensing up, worrying about what she was going to say. She rushed to say it, not wanting him to worry for long. "I came over here this afternoon, probably before you did." She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, not meeting his eyes. "I brought over the candles. And the radio. I wasn't sure how I was going to convince you, but I was hoping to end our date here tonight."
He studied her for a minute, then his mouth tilted sideways in that smile she loved so much but saw so rarely. "There's that great minds thing again, huh?"
"Yeah," she smiled, her insides quivering with her need and the nerves.
He looked around, and his face looked grimmer when he met hers again. "I wanted to try and erase what happened here the other night. I was hoping we could exchange that for a better memory."
She gulped and licked at her dry lips. "I don't want to totally erase the other night, though. Most of it was really nice. The part where we admitted how we felt to each other. That was exceptionally nice."
"It was," Luke agreed, staring at her intently. He started to reach for her, but she evaded him and walked over to the bed.
"There's…There's more," she said in a rush. She bent over at the waist, grasping the bedspread. Her expertise as a maid came back to her as she expertly turned down the bed. "I put some fresh sheets on the bed. Added some blankets. I thought…I thought that maybe―"
Her voice choked off when Luke pressed himself up behind her, grasping her hips and pulling her back against him.
"God, you're gorgeous," he growled.
She straightened up and one of his hands migrated upwards, cradling the undersides of her breasts, one of his thumbs pushing its way into the valley between them. His other hand went south, smoothing over her short skirt, his long fingers reaching down as far as he could.
His mouth found her neck and she was so close to completely melting in his arms. "I…I brought a nightgown," she managed to murmur, quivering under his touch.
"Save it for another time," he advised, turning her in his arms. "Won't need it tonight." His mouth came down on hers, drinking her in.
They kissed and moaned and moved against each other with purpose, trying to drive each other crazy. With her last bit of strength, Lorelai pushed away again.
"There's something else I need to tell you," she panted out.
She watched as he pulled himself together and tried to hold himself back. "Sure," he said, swallowing hard. "Go ahead." He crossed his arms and tried to look at her seriously.
She felt a grin pop out on her face. He was so expecting the 'responsibility' talk. As far as she was concerned, Luke personified responsibility. There was no need to talk about it.
"I wanted to say this now," she started, biting her lip. She hadn't expected this part of the confession to be so hard, but he was looking at her so intently, and she knew what she was going to say was a big deal. She didn't want to mess it up. "I want to say it now, because if I say it later, you might just think I'm saying it because of what we're doing, and I don't want you to think that. And I don't want it to get lost in anything else that's going on."
"OK," he said, looking a little concerned.
"OK." She blew out a breath. "You know how you don't know what you don't know until you find out differently?" His face was starting to harden into those lines that meant he was losing patience, so she rushed on. "I had Rory, and this eternal flame of love just lit up inside me. I loved her so much, Luke. It was just this immediate, all-consuming thing. I knew I'd do anything to protect her. I knew I'd do anything to make sure she was happy."
"Of course you would," he agreed, nodding. The impatience had faded.
"Well, you know I've had guys in my life, through the years." He nodded again, but looked sterner, and once again she rushed. "And with some of them, I figured I loved them, you know? I mean, it wasn't a Rory sort of love, but I figured that was because mother love was a totally different feeling than guy love. I thought I had it figured out." She took in a deep breath, preparing to go all the way with this. "I've been…I've been thinking about this a lot, Luke. Ever since that night with the Poes I've been thinking about this. Maybe…Maybe a lot longer than that. And what I think is…What I know is…" She looked at him, held his eyes with hers. "I have Rory-level love for you, Luke. I'd do anything to protect you. I'd do anything to make you happy." She gave a helpless little shrug, not knowing what else to say. "I…I love you, Luke."
He stopped breathing completely, staring at her. Just as she was beginning to fidget nervously, scared that she'd completely ruined things, his chin tipped up and he closed his eyes in what looked like relief. The next second he grabbed her, pressing her against him almost frantically.
"I need you now," he insisted. "I need to feel you. I need―"
He pushed back on her shoulders, easing her back until she was draped across the bed sideways, the end of her short skirt on the edge of the mattress, her boots still on the floor. He stepped between her legs and raised one of them to his chest. His eyes locked on hers. Deliberately he took her leg and pulled down on the zipper, slowly pulling the leather off of her. He placed her bare foot over his shoulder and started on the other leg.
Air hissed out of her lungs as she tried to catch hold of some control, her hands grasping at the blankets under her.
His hands slowly slid up the length of her legs on the outside. He pushed up her skirt as he reached her hips, his hands rubbing over the sides of her lacy panties. He brought his hands back to where her ankles lay next to his face, turning to kiss each of them in turn. Then he started back up her legs, this time on the inside.
"Oh, God," she breathed out, writhing uncontrollably.
He chuckled, but she could hear his breath hitching about every other inch as his hands moved upwards. Finally his fingers reached her apex and he paused, teasing the lace he found there.
"Well, this answers an important question for me," he said, his voice strained.
She knew what he was doing. He was trying to calm them both down, trying to inject their particular brand of humor into this moment. "What?" she gasped out, her body still moving about, trying to connect with his fingers.
"I always wondered if your legs stopped somewhere." He closed his eyes, his fingers digging into her upper thighs while he fought for control. "I thought maybe they went on forever."
She pressed her ankles tighter against his face, making his eyes leap open. "Maybe you'd better check again," she urged him.
"Yeah," he agreed, his voice slick with need, and his fingers once again found her center.
She surprised them both by launching herself upwards, scrambling up until her feet were back on the ground and she was pressing herself wantonly against him.
"Me too," she told him, desperately, her hands claiming every inch of him that she could find. "I need to feel you, too. I need you. Now."
He looked at her, swallowing down his own desperation. "Lorelai―"
"Now," she pleaded. "We need now. There's all night. There will be other nights. But right now, we need the now."
She couldn't read his eyes. They darted everywhere over her face. Suddenly he reached for her waist. He grabbed at her sweater and in one movement, yanked it over her head.
She gasped out as the cooler air hit her hot skin. She never expected him to do something like that.
He reached a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her towards him, closing his eyes while he lowered his mouth to hers.
"Wait, wait," she urged. She grabbed his sweater and tried to pull it off him. He took over and tossed it on the floor. His chest was heaving as he looked at her solemnly.
"Now," he said simply, advancing on her.
"Now's good," she agreed, running her hands over him. She closed her eyes and sank against him, giving herself over completely to the pleasure of being with him.
The man she loved.
They lay cuddled together under the extra blankets. Her back was to his front, and he was lazily tracing light-as-a-feather circles around her navel, making all sorts of delicious shivers run through her.
She pressed herself back against him and rubbed his arm that was cradling her stomach. She was so light and happy she was afraid that without the covers she might float up to the ceiling.
"You did this bed proud," she told him, trying not to sound too pleased. "I think you pretty much satisfied every fantasy I ever had while I lived here."
"Really?" He raised himself up on one elbow and tugged her over on her back, so he could look at her. He gently rapped his knuckles against her head. "The dirty mind you've got, and that satisfied your fantasies?"
"For now," she smiled, raising her eyebrows.
"Hmmm." He kept looking down at her, bemused. "Well, it didn't satisfy all of mine." He threw back the covers and slid out of bed, pulling her out with him.
"Com'ere," he said gruffly, while a thrill shot through every cell of her body.
Much later they lay tangled together again, warm under the blankets even though the stove had long ago exhausted its store of heat. Sleep was rapidly pulling them under.
"Lorelai," she heard him say, softly. "Baby. Don't go to sleep yet."
Normally she didn't like guys to call her the little pet names. But the sound of Luke's voice saying it made all sorts of good things flow through her body. It made her heart swell up in love.
She patted his cheek drowsily. "I admire your stamina, Butch, I really do. But I've got to get some sleep."
He chuckled a little. "No, it's not that. I just need to talk to you a little bit. Can you wake up? Please?"
She opened one eye. "What is it?"
He exhaled a deep breath before propping himself up on one elbow again, facing her. "I just realized I didn't answer you, before."
She frowned, going back over the night hurriedly, her mind hanging up over some especially memorable parts. "When?"
"When you told me that you loved me."
"Oh, Luke…" She started to shake her head. "You don't have to -"
"No, no, that's the thing," he said urgently. "I do. I've loved you forever, Lorelai. It's just a fact of life for me. My name's Luke Danes, I live in Stars Hollow, Connecticut, and I love Lorelai Gilmore. I've lived with it so long and known it for so long that it's just another part of my life. I'm so used to loving you that I forgot to actually tell you. I forgot you didn't know."
Lorelai blinked several times. "You…You love me?"
"Yeah," he said, so tenderly. He pushed her hair back from her face and then leaned over, kissing her lips with just as much feeling as the first kiss had hours earlier. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she murmured against his skin, holding him tight.
They settled down together again.
"Luke?"
"Hmmm?"
"This might have been the best date ever."
"Not a date," he muttered.
Confusion flared, pushing the sleep away. "It's not?" She felt the heat warming her words as she bit them off. "Just what is it, then?"
She was starting to rise up in agitation, but Luke surrounded her with his arms and pulled her back down, soothing her.
"It's our life," he explained, kissing her temple, and cuddling her against him.
She thought about that. "I like the sound of that," she decided.
She felt him smile against her. "I do, too," he revealed. "Now, go to sleep. We'll have plenty of life to deal with tomorrow."
Luke was putting the last of the stuff into the truck the next morning when he looked up and saw that Lorelai had moved several yards away. She was standing with her arms crossed, staring at the Inn.
He slowly came up behind her, hoping he wasn't intruding into her memories. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him, letting his chin nestle against her hair.
"OK?" he asked her, softly.
She let her head fall back against him. "Yeah," she sighed. She continued to stare at the back of the building that housed the kitchen, her eyes scanning over the black grime spiraling up from where windows used to be, the holes now nailed shut with new plywood.
"I'm sorry," he said with all his heart. "I'm sorry you've had to go through this."
His hands were clasped on top of her stomach, and she placed her hands on top of his. After a moment she turned in his arms, putting her hands on his shoulders. She studied him thoughtfully.
"You know, in some ways, sharing last night with you here sort of brought it all to an end. It's like I've accomplished everything I ever dreamed of here. I broke away from my parents' life. I made a home. I raised my daughter. I found a profession. I found friends." She paused a moment, rubbing his jaw. "I found love." Her voice broke, just a little, and Luke rushed to kiss her.
She tried to laugh a little bit, even though she was still blinking back some tears. "You know that Sookie and I have talked forever about opening our own place, and I know that Mia has been ready to let go for a while now. Maybe this is just the push we all needed to move on."
He held her so tight. "I'll help you," he promised. "I'll help you in any way I can."
She laughed again, hardly able to breath in his embrace. "Just keep loving me, OK? Stay in my life." She kissed him, lingering over his lips as long as she dared. "Stay in my dreams," she whispered to him.
"You are my dream," he told her. "You are my life."
She leaned her forehead against his for several long minutes, letting him support her. That was a new feeling for her. It was something she'd fought against for a lot of years, but now she was starting to see that letting someone help her made her stronger; not weaker, which was what she'd always feared.
What was important was finding the right person to ask for help.
She pulled back a little bit, so he could see the light she knew was shining in her eyes. "I was thinking about walking around the place just a little. To kind of say goodbye." She ran her fingers through his short hair. "Would you go with me?"
His face took on the look of exasperation she knew so well. "You know I will."
She grinned, holding out her hand to him while taking several steps away. "Yeah, I do," she said with a laugh, and waited for him to catch up.