A/N: I spoil you, I really do. It's just that I'm about five chapters ahead of myself at all times, and I get reviews that make me go "Aw" and I just want to give you more. Speaking of reviews, thank you so much for those. Keep 'em coming.
As much as it delights me that some of you are so completely invested in this story that it's totally tormenting you not to know who Rory's going to end up with, it also makes me feel bad because I don't want to completely disappoint you. belle1220, you put it very well: you've let me know the couples you'd like to see in the end and told me that anything in between was fair game. I couldn't agree more. I hear you, everyone. I have the entire story mapped out with brief summaries of each chapter already, but I do take every single thing you say into consideration, I promise you.
Hang in there: have faith in your ships, believe in whatever endgame you desire...but let me have my fun in the meantime. Oh, and I'm currently writing a very important and essential paper on Albert Camus, so forgive the constant referencing. He's just in my head right now. Also, while I'm getting off on tangents, isn't that new "Reader Traffic" thing fun? is pretty awesome at inflating my ego. Joking. Anyway, I'm sorry, back to the story. Reviews make me smile and motivate me to write. Read on!
"Okay, let me get this straight," Rory said, a small giggle escaping her lips. "You're obsessed with Albert Camus?"
"Only a little," Lucas replied, mock-defensively, admiring the way her hair fell into her face.
"You wake up in the morning and the first thing you think is hey, why don't I read a depressing novella by a semi-racist but brilliant author?"
"Yes?" he shrugged sheepishly.
They'd both slept in his bed the previous night. Rory'd snuck out to retrieve their food, and they'd camped out in the confines of his relatively small dorm room for the rest of the night, getting to know each other even better. He learned about her best friends, Lane in her hometown and Paris at Yale, and her close relationship with Richard, her grandfather.
In return he'd filled her in on the details of his friendship with Haley and his relationship with his uncle Keith. Rory tread around the subject with remarkable sensitivity, letting him set the boundaries for what he did and didn't want to reveal. In return, he didn't pester her about talking to her mother. He knew that she knew that she needed to, but she wasn't ready yet, and he owed her his silent acceptance of that.
He'd fully intended to go sleep on the couch, even as they laid together, facing each other in his bed. They each had their own pillow, their legs were tangled casually, and Lucas had firmly made the decision to go sleep on the couch when she finally got tired enough to snooze. She was overtired, he could tell, hyped up from her emotional overload.
They made faces at each other when they heard the girlish giggles coming from outside the door. At one point, Finn said something so lewd that it made Rory's jaw drop and Lucas wince, knowing that he'd never forget it. Most of the time, however, the dirty talk stayed hushed enough so that they didn't hear it, and Lucas steered the conversation into easy, relaxing directions. They talked about books and movie and music, and he watched her get all professionally cute as she gave him the run-down on what professors she knew he'd like, and which he really didn't ever want to come into contact with.
She was giving him an astounding speech on her hatred of Hemingway when she finally started to drift off. Her eyes began to close just as she began her spiel on how incredibly boring For Whom the Bell Tolls was, and her words grew farther and farther apart as she snuggled down into his pillow and blankets. He watched her fondly as she drifted off to dreamland, a soft, contented sigh escaping her perfect lips.
Unable to resist, he pressed his lips to her temple and pulled the sheet over her body before he reluctantly stood up from the bed, grabbing a book and preparing to go out and sleep on the couch. He wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep on the couch after hearing what he'd heard previously, but he guessed he'd find out. Just when he reached for the doorknob, her lazy "Hey." stopped him.
"Yeah?" he asked softly. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling languorously.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To sleep on the couch."
She shook her head against the pillow, messing up her hair, and patted the other side of the bed. "I'm already putting you out. I'm not going to make you go out there." She opened her eyes the slightest amount so that she was watching him through her long, dark eyelashes. "Come back to bed."
Hesitantly, he walked back toward her and laid back down next to her, careful to keep some space between their bodies. She didn't say anything more.
When they woke up the next morning, their sleep disrupted by a gang of noisy students yelling something about World War I outside the window, their limbs were tangled together. Somehow, it wasn't awkward, only comfortable. They eased themselves away from each other with small smiles. Rory met his eyes lazily and then let her eyelids fall again. Neither of them spoke, and soon enough, she drifted back to sleep.
Lucas couldn't go back to sleep, not with a beautiful girl in his bed. The sun hit her hair at the perfect angle, causing her brown locks to shine. He was comfortable, and he wasn't exactly rushing to get out there and encounter whatever had transpired after Colin and Finn's night of debauchery. He didn't close his eyes again, but he did stay put, grabbing one of the books he was currently reading and diving in.
Rory awoke from her morning nap, that extra bit of needed sleep, about forty-five minutes later to see him ploughing through the final pages of L'Étranger. She peered at the cover of his book critically through her bleary eyes. "The Outsider? Really? Depression this early in the morning?"
Lucas grinned at her and shrugged. She sat up a little, straining her neck and shoulders as she tried to read the print to gauge at what point in the story it was. To make it easier for her, he lifted his arm, allowing her to tuck her head into the crook of his neck and have an unobstructed few of the text. His arm settled gently around her, and he unconsciously stroked the skin of her upper arm.
She wrinkled her nose adorably. "Camus at this hour. I cannot believe you."
That was what led to their discussion on the pros and cons of Albert Camus' works of fiction in the early hours of the morning. "How the hell does one get obsessed with Camus?" Rory asked incredulously. "There are so many…happier authors to get obsessed with."
"All happy authors are alike," he told her with a faux-innocent expression, playing on the famous Tolstoy quote. "But all unhappy authors are unhappy in their own way."
"Ha ha," she replied wryly, unimpressed. "Hey, why don't you read Vonnegut in the morning?"
Lucas smiled at her eager expression and shook his head. "You leave my books alone, Rory Gilmore."
Her feet rubbed against his as she pulled back to kick him playfully. "Try and make me."
There was sudden, aggressive knocking on the door that startled them both. "I'm coming in!" Finn announced, and flung the door open without waiting for a reply. Finn could drink more shots of tequila in one sitting than anyone Lucas had ever met, but he'd never quite mastered the whole decorum thing.
For the first time all night and all morning, things grew very awkward, very quickly. It was not surprising, considering the blatant way Finn was gawking at them for a second time. Lucas felt Rory slip out from under his arm and away from his body carefully, as if she was afraid to make any sudden movements.
Finn looked contemplative. He looked hungover, first and foremost, but there were several emotions playing on his face underneath the cover of thoughtfulness. He looked surprised, a little bit angry, and almost resignedly sad. Finally, in a much quieter voice than the one he normally used, he asked, "Is there something I should know?"
Lucas let Rory answer. She'd known Finn longer, through all the naked phases that Lucas was glad he had yet to encounter. She knew him through the boy she'd just broken up with. It was her place to answer the question, and she did so delicately, her voice soft and her words thought-out: "No, Finn. You have to know me better than that."
The Australian raised a single eyebrow. "I do, Gilmore. You know I consider you a sister. I believe you love…loved…Logan. But I've had a lot of flings in my life, and if there is anything I've learned to recognize, it's undeniable, first-glance attraction. If you take that and add a one-night stand, it'll go away. But if you bond…" he gestured vaguely to the couple lying in front of him. He let his words sink in, then cleared his throat and allowed his voice to hit its natural volume. "We're all hungover as hell. You guys want to go get breakfast?"
"I want blackberries on my pancakes," Finn insisted.
"We only have blueberries," the waitress told him tiredly for the infinite time.
Rory shot her a sympathetic smile. "Just give him blueberries," she mouthed, dropping one eyelid in a wink and nodding her head reassuringly. Once his food was in front of him, Finn wouldn't remember his whiny request.
Colin looked haggard that morning. He was hunched over his coffee cup and spoke rarely. His eyes kept darting back and forth between Rory and Lucas, and it was making her remarkably self-conscious, especially considering Finn's earlier words. Could a girl not have a friend anymore? Lucas' arm was resting on the both behind her, completely casually, but she was hyper-aware of it and she hated that. Absolutely hated it.
"Rough night, Colin?" she asked, keeping her tone even. She smiled slightly to make sure everyone knew she intended the dirty connotation.
"Fairly," he said gruffly, keeping his voice just as even.
She refused to let it go. "You're quiet."
He shrugged. "Hungover."
The waitress returned with their food ("Blueberries!" Finn cried delightedly as though they were what he'd asked for) and they all perked up a bit, eager to eat. Rory and Lucas had ordered the same thing, which they laughed at amicably, but Rory caught Colin's scoff. Frowning, she attacked her eggs with a vengeance.
The girls Colin and Finn had been escorting since the previous night stared blankly at Rory. They were, it turned out, twins, Mindy and Trina, and were now dressed in skinny jeans and what appeared to be the same tank in two different colours. "How do you eat like that?" Trina asked in utter amazement. Or maybe it was Mindy.
Rory smiled despite herself and her inner frustration. "Years of training."
"Do you work out a lot?" the other twin asked in a familiar way. Girls had to find a reason for Rory's ability to eat so much and somehow stay so thin.
With a gentle smile at the overly made-up brunette sitting across from her, Rory said, "No. Never. I just…have really good metabolism."
Lucas turned to her with an impressed look in his eyes. "That's crazy."
She laughed. "That's Lorelai Gilmore and her genes." Mentioning her mother made her remember how worried Lorelai must be about her, and she was filled with regret. Lucas must have seen the flicker of remorse, because his hand dropped from the upper part of the booth to rest around her body in a reassuringly warm way. She had to give him credit for being able to read her so well. She rewarded his kindness with a half-smile and a sly glance out of the corner of her eye. When she looked back at the rest of the table, Mindy and Trina were engaged in a conversation about counting carbs versus counting calories, and Finn kept putting in with obviously false statistics that nonetheless seemed to impress the girls. Rory smiled at the sight, but her lips dropped into a frown as she felt the heat of Colin's glare.
She turned to him and glared right back. She was not doing this. "I'm not doing this, Colin," she said aloud through gritted teeth. Finn and the girls looked disgruntled and alarmed, but Lucas seemed to sense where she was coming from.
"Doing what, Reporter Girl?"
"Will you just call me by my name, already?" Rory shot back. She couldn't fight with people when they used nicknames. It only further infuriated her. When she'd argued with Tristan, way back in the day, he must have known that to be true, but she had no doubt that her anger probably worked as a turn-on. When she and Lorelai had a spat, unless there was a serious emotional aspect, her mother had long ago learned to call her daughter by name throughout the fight and avoid "honey" and "sweets". Logan had eventually come to realize that if she was upset with him, he needed to break away from the sweet nickname he'd given her at the start of their relationship; it was only when their accusations toned down that he'd venture an "Ace" again.
"Sorry, Rory," Colin replied, playing up the rhyme mockingly. Just yesterday Lucas had said those same words to her with a teasing gleam in his baby blues and she'd been appreciated the nicety of it – Lorelai always apologized to her in that same lilting, doting meter.
She could feel the intensity of her rage burning behind her eyes. "We are not going to do this, Colin, we're just not. Don't you dare. I cannot believe that you're just sitting there being an ass and acting like I'm being disloyal to Logan. Can you even comprehend how stupid that is?"
His jaw was set. "You just seemed to have rebounded kinda quickly, Gilmore."
Rory wanted to slap him. "He cheated on me, you jerk! He cheated on me and you're acting like I've betrayed his precious trust! Trust means nothing between Logan and me, not anymore! He told me he loved me," she said fiercely, blinking back the tears pushing at her eyelids when she remembered that fact. "More than anything, forever, always…all that crap, all of it, that's what he told me, and he screwed a bunch of sluts behind my back!"
The twins looked impeccably uncomfortable as they took nervous bites of toast, their eyes roaming between Colin and Rory as though they were watching a tennis match. Finn looked troubled and particularly sad. Rory didn't look at Lucas. She couldn't handle the it's okay she knew she would see in his eyes. Not when she was already about to cry.
Colin tilted his head to the side, anger stemmed from betrayal flickering in his eyes. "Huh."
"What?" Rory demanded in her deadliest voice.
"Not once, in that nice little speech of yours, did I here you deny that there's anything between you and New Boy over here."
Rory stared at him, speechless. Had he not heard a word she'd just said? "Colin, you jackass. Lucas and I have known each other for days but he's stepped up to the plate and helped me out and been wonderful. If you're too stupid to realize it: we're not sleeping together, okay? Pretty sure you knew that already," she added bitterly. "I can't believe you. You've known me for over a year, and I know Logan's your friend, but he's the bad guy here, alright? I loved him. With everything in me." She hated the way her throat tightened as she said those words. Lucas put a little more strength into the hold of his arm around her, giving her all she needed to go on. "I thought about marrying him, I did. I considered forever with him, and I hate myself for it, but there's no going back. Logan's the world's biggest jerk, and you're taking his side." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm even hearing what you're saying. Are you awa – "
Lucas' cell phone rang all of sudden. The twins looked relieved, Finn looked nearly ecstatic, and Colin frowned in the direction of the "New Boy". Rory was too invested in her tirade, however, and would yell at anyone who would listen. She whirled on Lucas, and lividly demanded, "Are you being stalked or something?"
Lucas looked a little stunned when her outburst was suddenly directed at him, and she couldn't blame him. He lifted his hands, pulling his arm away from her, and held them up to show that he was unarmed. "Sorry."
"Oh my God, no, I'm sorry," Rory rushed to apologize, coming down from her passionately angry high. "Wow. Okay. God, I'm sorry." She realized then that her bitter rant had captured the attention of two waitresses and several of the restaurant's other customers, including a horrified-looking elderly couple and a family of six. The three primary-school-aged children were staring with their jaws dropped, and the baby began to wail. Rory winced and tried to collect herself.
After taking about thirty seconds to get her breathing back to normal, she tried to speak in a steady voice. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly to the mother of the family, who'd scooped up her wailing infant. "I'm sorry," she repeated to the waitresses, who looked a little frightened of her. Beyond it, though, she could sense their pity, which didn't exactly make her feel better about herself. She put her elbows down on the table so hard that the cutlery rattled, and buried her face in her hands momentarily. "God, I'm sorry. I need to get out of here." When she looked up, she looked at Lucas and Lucas alone. "Will you come with me?" It was an open request, the kind that would give him the allowance and opportunity to say no.
His nod, however, was immediate, and he dropped a few bills on the table before ushering her out of the restaurant and away from the nosy gazes of the customers.
Outside, in the parking lot, Lucas watched as Rory paced, keeping his expression neutral. Haley and Nathan were going to murder him for ignoring all their calls. He mentally made a note to watch out for hit men.
"I didn't mean to blow up at him that badly," Rory admitted as she paced the pavement at a fast pace. A single tear had escaped from her right eye at one point, leaving a delicate trail on her cheek that Lucas was tempted to wipe away. He didn't, though; he left her to vent in a bubble of her personal space for the moment.
Rory sighed. "I just…I was so mad at him for acting as though I'd betrayed Logan. I haven't. It was all him. I just want to put it…in the past. Oh, my God," she sighed, giggling ruefully. "I can't believe I did that. That was so embarrassing. Did you see how that old guy was looking at me?"
Lucas cracked a smile. "Yeah, he definitely thought you were crazy."
"I'm sorry, too, for snapping at you," she said, gesturing toward his ear, clearly talking about his phone call. "That was completely unfair, considering you're…you, and you've done so much." She finally stopped pacing and took an unsteady breath. "I just…I feel really, really weird today. Like…I don't know, maybe I'm forgetting something? Or…or I…I'm confused. I feel almost lightheaded from it."
"You're tired," he comforted her. "I get that all the time when I'm tired, that feeling when things just don't seem to line up the way they should. It's like a strange form of dizziness. That it?"
She nodded, thankful that she wasn't totally losing it. She took another deep breath. "I really want some ice cream," she confessed with a pout.
He grinned. She had more addictions than coffee, he was slowly learning. "You need your chocolate fix?"
To his complete surprise, she made a face at the mention of the cocoa-filled goodness she so adored. "No, I actually really want…strawberry frozen yoghourt." She frowned. "Is that weird?"
"That sounds a little bit healthy, so if it is weird, it's good weird," Lucas told her with his grin still in place. He tilted his head in the direction of the nearest ice cream place. "Let's do it."
They walked in synchronized steps, and he could sense Rory calming beside him, settling into a relaxed state. "Hey, Lucas?"
"Hey, Rory?" he imitated her teasingly.
She analyzed his expression with an intelligent glint in her sapphire orbs. "Whose calls are you avoiding?"
"Ah, the journalist strikes again."
"Hey," she said again, knowing right away that he was trying to escape having to answer the question. "Seriously. Is everything okay?"
He gave her a grateful smile at her concern. He was touched. "Yeah, everything's fine, someone's just being annoying," he said lamely. "You don't need to worry about me, Rory."
She bit her lip before answering: "But what if I want to?" She let her repetition of his words to her the previous night settle into the air between them before adding, "Besides, you've taken very good care of me. One of these days, you're going to have to let me return the favour."
"I'll hold you to that, Miss Gilmore."
She gave a firm nod, pleased with his response, and met his eyes with attractive confidence. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
It was obvious that Rory wanted to forget that morning's fight. For the rest of the day, she was animated, full of jokes and quick to laugh and always ready with a witty comeback. They didn't run out of things to talk about. Rory could have an hour-long conversation about the Oompa Loompa's in Willy Wonka, for crying out loud – they were never without a discussion topic. Like a good little journalist, Rory knew everything there was to know about politics, and Lucas playfully debated her on the day's headlines as best as he could when they watched the news together, back at the suite once more. A piece came on about secret societies in mega-rich America and Lucas noticed how she instantly clammed up. Rory talked. It was what she did. It was therefore always an alarm when she stopped doing so.
"Spill," he told her gently, tilting her chin up so that she had to meet his eyes.
She sighed. "Yale's an Ivy, right? So there's a secret society. I did an article on it once."
He waited patiently through the background info until she got to whatever was really bothering her.
"Logan got me in. And they do these stupid stunts…we did one together. It was just…I don't know, our first connection, I guess."
"I'm sorry."
With a heavy sigh, she looked back at the TV. "I'm not. I mean, this sucks so much, but…there were good things. And I loved him." She returned her eyes to his. "People break up. It's how the world is. I figure…or at least, I'd like to figure…that in the end, you break up for a deeper reason."
"And what is that?" Lucas asked, genuinely curious.
"There's something better out there," she said softly, her eyes shifting to the floor before she made eye contact again. "There has to be."
He could feel the sympathy coming off of him in waves. The empathy. "That's optimistic," he said sadly, finding it admirable that she was able to think that way but not necessarily agreeing.
She laughed. Really, it was a dry sob, but she tried to disguise it as a laugh and Lucas let her. Her watery gaze was passionately full of hope. "Is that so wrong?"
Slowly, he shook his head, remembering the anecdote he'd once been told by a girl with a pretty smile and melancholy eyes. "There's nothing wrong with happy endings," he said, paraphrasing liberally as he relayed the wisdom.
She surprised him by realizing that he had quoted another source. "Who said that?" she whispered.
"My friend's mom. The one who died of cancer. She once said that there was nothing wrong with fairytales, they all have happy endings."
Rory's smile said I'm sorry for her. "Good advice." After a beat, she asked, "Did your friend find that fairytale?"
He shrugged calmly and widened his eyes, asking who knows? He wanted, or maybe needed, to lighten the mood. "Not yet."
"Hm." Rory smiled. "We'll have to start a club."
He laughed indulgently.
She sat up a little. "I call being president."
Lucas smiled warmly at the dare hidden in her facial expression. "You wish."
She giggled, grabbing the remote from his unresisting hands and beginning to flick through the channels. "We'll have the members vote."
"Unfair."
"It's not my fault I'm more likeable," she replied with an innocent flutter of her eyelashes.
Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'm going to take a shower. You want to order pizza or something?"
"Lots of meat!" she cheered, quirking her eyebrows, obviously having intended to sound dirty.
"That innocent look of yours is just a façade, isn't it?"
"Damn, you caught on," she joked, mock-regretful, and stuck her tongue out. "Go get clean. I can order a pizza. I've been doing it all my life."
"That I believe," he laughed as he made his way to the bathroom.
Lucas enjoyed long, lazy showers. However, he kept a vague sense of time. He didn't want to leave Rory alone for too long, not just because it would be rude, but because she would eat all the pizza herself if he wasn't out there when it arrived to claim his share.
When he finally got out of the warm spray of water, he towelled off and stepped into his pants. It was steamy and hot in the bathroom; he was already beginning to sweat a little and he didn't want to put on the long-sleeved shirt he'd brought in with him. Would it be weird to walk out there without a shirt?
Of course it wouldn't. Rory had just told Colin that very morning that there was nothing between them. There was nothing between them. He sort of wished there was, he could admit that, but at least now he didn't have to wear the heavy piece of clothing. She didn't have feelings for him, so it didn't matter. Forgoing his shirt without a second thought, he went back out into the common room. "Rory?" he asked. She wasn't there. The TV was still on, on C-SPAN, and she'd made coffee, he could smell it, but she wasn't there. With a confused frown, he walked into his own room to see her curled up on his bed. "Rory?" he asked again.
There was a cup of coffee sitting in front of her, but it didn't appear as though she'd actually consumed any of it. Next to the blue mug sat a red delicious apple with two perfect bites taken out of it. Rory was staring at the coffee and apple, frozen in place. Her eyes held an expression of mournful, controlled…panic. The whole situation seemed like somebody's avant-garde, modern-day, slightly messed-up version of Snow White. "Rory?" Lucas asked yet again, kneeling down in front of her so that they were eye to eye. He ran a finger lightly against her warm, pale cheek. He wondered if she needed to have another Logan breakdown.
Her eyes seemed to search for his face even though he was directly in front of her. They finally settled, locking with his, and she took a sharp breath in. "Rory?" he repeated yet again, softly and tenderly. The saviour in him was at the ready.
"I think…I'm pregnant."
A/N: And the clichés just keep on coming, don't they? I couldn't help myself. You want to know what's going to happen next? Reviews are always the answer.
