Disclaimer: Totally don't own these characters, or this world. I just like to be a part of it. I give all credit to the writers of this fantastic show for the dialogue I've borrowed.
Author's Notes:
Thank you to all who commented! It seems as though the tribe has spoken, so start keeping an eye out for some tweaking of canon. A few tweaks here and there. Tweakage, if you will. But, life still has one obstacle for our daring duo to overcome. However, Donna Reed comes first…
Fourteen
"That weird caller called again last night when you were in the shower. They're calling a lot lately."
Rory's unexpected statement made her stumble on the sidewalk, and when Rory looked at her questioningly, she looked back and scowled at the pavement. "Stupid cracks in the stupid sidewalk. They'll get you every time." She knew her cover up was useless though when Rory also looked back at the perfectly smooth walkway. Damn Taylor and his need to fix everything immediately.
"There's no crack there."
"Uh, metaphorically, you know."
"What?"
"Uh, the cracks are a metaphor."
"Metaphor for what?"
Why her daughter felt the need to interrogate her before coffee was beyond her, and she could feel herself losing the battle. "Uh, for life, you know."
"Why are you being so weird?"
She gasped. "I cannot believe you're calling me weird before breakfast. Do you not remember who birthed you? What's weird is you skipping Cop Rock last night to work on homework." She prayed her terrible segue would distract Rory, and sighed in relief as they walked into Luke's and Rory started talking about her brain hurting. She immediately started thinking of an excuse of how to stay late at the diner, because Luke obviously had wanted to talk to her about something. And frankly, flirting in person was so much better than over the phone.
As she and Rory debated the possibility of Rory having a tumor versus losing her eyesight, she flicked her eyes around the diner for some sort of inspiration, and when she noticed the handle of an old paintbrush shoved in with the various other tools left over from when the diner was a hardware store, a lightbulb went off in her head. And if on cue, Luke showed up to take their order right then and there, so she didn't have to sit on her idea. "Hi, can you take a little constructive criticism?"
"No."
"Ok. This place could use a makeover."
"Hmm."
"Yeah. It just needs a sprucing up. Like a coat of paint."
"I don't spruce."
"What do you mean you don't spruce?"
When Taylor jumped in on their conversation, it took her a second to remember the fact that there were other people in the diner. Lately, whenever she and Luke talked, it was like everything around her faded away, and she really needed to get a better handle on that phenomenon, because if she wasn't careful, she was going to say something inappropriate. Speaking of inappropriate… "Right here in River City!"
"This is not funny, Lorelai."
Taylor was of course, wrong, as she noticed Rory giggling across the table from her.
"Does anyone want anything?"
Yes, time with Luke that was totally town sanctioned. "Uh, yes, I do. I want to know why you won't paint this place."
"Painting's a pain. I'd have to close the place for a day – which I can't afford – or paint it in the middle of the night – which I don't want to do because I hate painting."
He was making this way too difficult, and was clearly not seeing the plan behind the plan. "Ok, how about this? I'll help you. I love to paint." She stretched out the word 'love' in hopes he would start to clue in as to what she was offering.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
"You love it?"
"I want to marry it."
"You have strange passions."
She wanted to reach up and grab fistfuls of his shirts and shake him. Sometimes, he was so oblivious to what was going on around him.
"She likes washing dishes, too. She's multi-faceted abnormal."
She didn't even bother to supply Rory with a look – everyone knew she had her quirks – and instead pushed on. "Ah, come on. We'll drink a couple beers, we'll sing painting songs."
"Painting songs."
At this point, she was kind of certain he was catching on, and was daring her to continue the absurd charade of loving to paint. No one ever said she was one to back down on a dare… "Yeah, painting songs. Like, uh, you know, the song that goes, um…" She glanced helplessly at the table for some sort of inspiration, and picked up a couple pieces of cutlery before starting to sing. "Grab your brush and grab your rollers…All you kids and all you….bowlers. We're going paintin' today!" Hallelujah. She managed to stutter something out. "Say yes, or there's another verse."
"Well, I guess maybe…if I had help."
Oh yeah, he finally picked up on what she was hinting at.
"Really? Oh my god! That's wonderful! Hurrah!"
At Taylor's voice, she mentally cursed. Again, she forgot other people were in the diner. Specifically, Taylor. Now she was actually going to have to paint the place. If it was just Rory listening to the conversation, she could always tell her daughter when the place wasn't painted, that Luke had threatened to stop selling coffee if she actually went through with anything. However, with Taylor, that would never slide. She watched the brief interaction between Luke and Taylor, pleased when Luke said that painting was for 'him' because, oh, this painting session was definitely going to be about him, and kept her focus on Luke as Taylor walked out the door.
"I hate that he's pleased."
She shrugged her shoulders. "Ah, you'll drop a gum wrapper on the street in front of his store later."
"Yeah, good idea." He walked away, clearly absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Mom, you totally distracted him. He didn't even take our order."
"Hmmm?" Her daughter's statement pulled her from her musings of just what she and Luke could get up to while painting the diner she was having while watching him walk away.
"Are you ok?"
Her attention snapped back to Rory. "Huh?"
"Did you and Luke have an argument or something?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…you've been acting weird around him lately. And now you're offering to do manual labor for him. You never do manual labor unless you're trying to amend for something."
Once again, her much too observant daughter was being much too observant. While it was true, all these years she and Luke had managed to keep their secret rendezvous secret, lately she found herself being more brazen around him, and deep down it was because she was hoping they would get caught. Then the town would know, and it would force his hand. However, truthfully, she still wanted him to come to his senses on his own, but maybe he needed a little push. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're talking crazy." She gasped. "Maybe you really do have a tumor!"
"Mom!"
She grinned at her daughter's frustration and stood up. "Look, I'll go put in our order. We need to get going soon anyways." When she walked away, she didn't miss Rory grumble something that sounded a lot like, 'you're still acting weird' but decided to ignore it and continue on to order their breakfast.
…..
As she walked her way to the diner, she wished she had remembered her gloves – especially since she had to hold her bag which held all of paint chips and the color inspiration pictures she had cut out earlier that evening. She had forgotten them though, because truthfully, it was a little tough saying goodbye to Rory before she left. It was always hard whenever she had to be away from Rory, and it hurt a little that Rory was so willing to spend the night away from her.
However, as the lights of the diner lit up the darkness ahead of her, she had to smile. At least she could spend the evening with Luke. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to stay too late, because she had promised Rory she would feed Stella. Apparently the chick needed to be fed at exactly 10pm - something about keeping a diary of reactions or something. To her, it didn't seem that important, but when she joked about not feeding Stella at all, the death glare Rory had sent her only served to further reinforce her instinct that something was really bothering her daughter. But, instead of diving into that possible gauntlet, she chose to just agree to feed the baby chick, and accept that if any itch was to be scratched that night, it would have to involve either Luke sneaking over to the house, or her sneaking back to the diner, and both scenarios held their own respective landmines.
She stepped through the threshold of the diner, and was immediately enveloped by the warmth of the room. She breathed in deeply, and smiled at the smell of burgers and coffee mixing in her nose, and she immediately decided on what she wanted for dinner. Ignoring his presence in the corner as he served a table, she walked right up to the counter, took off her jacket, and started pulling the clippings and paint chips out of her bag. When an extra-large mug was placed down on top of her inspiration, she looked up into Luke's blue eyes and smiled as he poured her coffee.
"Burger, right?"
"How did you know?"
"Lucky guess."
He walked away without saying anything else, and she decided he must have been in a good mood since he didn't even mention the mess she was making on his counter top.
While she ate, he only came by a few times to check on her, but she was so absorbed in matching the paint chips she had to the clippings, that she was ignoring him anyways. Or, he was ignoring her. She couldn't decide. Every so often, she could get up to pin a grouping of paint chips to a wall, and then head back to match up another group. When he pulled her empty plate away from her, she looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "We should paint the whole place blue."
"Why blue?"
She leaned forward on the counter so she was closer to him, and whispered seductively. "To match those eyes of yours."
It wasn't surprising when he rolled those blue eyes, put her empty plate in the dirty dish bin under the counter, and moved around towards the couple seated at the table in the far corner. He clearly wasn't in the teasing mode at the moment, so she walked towards one of the paint chip groupings near where he was standing. "Now, this is another way to go. Sort of a French bistro kind of look."
"This isn't a French bistro."
"Really? Huh. It's amazing the things you learn when you bother to listen." She was speaking louder than she usually would, but she noticed she had an audience with the couple at the table Luke was helping with, and there were few things she liked more than having an audience.
"Which, you usually don't."
"Yes, but then I don't have a lot of useless information intruding in my brain."
"Thank god."
Ignoring him, she moved towards another group of paint chips near him. "Now, if you wanted to do more warm, golden Tuscan countryside…"
"Then I'd go to Italy."
As he moved towards the counter to wrap up the remainders of the couple's dinner, she moved towards the door of the diner where she had another paint group pinned to the wall. "We could also go with a pastely English country garden theme. Oh! Maybe we could add a little stenciling on the ceiling."
"No stenciling!"
Sometimes, he was exasperating. "Excuse me – do you even know what stenciling is?"
"Does Martha Stewart do it?"
Ah crap, even if he didn't know what it was, just knowing Martha Stewart did it would make him say no, so she sighed in defeat. "Yes."
"No stenciling."
She was interrupted from saying anything else by the door opening right next to her, and she had to step back a bit to avoid getting hit, and watched as Taylor and Kirk breezed by her on their way to the counter. Admittedly, she felt bad for Kirk losing a bet to Taylor, and so when Taylor commented about his appreciation for the color group she had pinned close to the front door, she pulled it down, not about to let Taylor win twice in one night.
As the diner started to empty out, she went around pinning a few more color groups to the walls, and happily accepted the beer Luke offered her once the diner was fully empty of patrons. However, for effect, she gasped as he held the beer out to her, and clasped a hand to her chest. "My, my can you legally serve liquor in this joint, my good sir?" She wasn't sure why her voice came out in a Southern accent, but, she just ran with it.
"If I'm going to have to argue with you about paint samples, I think both of us need to have a few drinks in us."
"Are you just trying to get me drunk so you can get your way with me?" She threw him a saucy grin, expecting him to fully ignore her comment, so it surprised her a little when he leaned close and whispered in her ear.
"I don't need you drunk to have my way with you."
When he pulled back, he tossed a wink at her, and she had to fan herself with the paint chip strip she was holding, and then felt her face flame when she caught his eye in the reflection of the diner window. At this point, she figured, to hell with a relationship other people knew about, because this side of Luke was hot as hell.
She shook her head, because if she caved to her desires right now, they would never get a paint color chosen, and there would be no way in hell she would make it home in time to feed Stella. So instead, she stood up, and started moving towards the storeroom, desperately trying to push thoughts of what happened the last time she was near that storeroom. "You ready to talk paint?"
"No."
She had to ignore him. She had to focus on choosing a paint color, so she could get the hell out of there before she dragged him upstairs. "Good. I've got all the choices set up and while any one of them would work, I think this combo is my favorite." She tapped on a color grouping she had pinned to the wall.
"Huh."
"See? Imagine. This will be for the walls and this will be for the trim. The, like, edging around the doors and the windows."
"I know what the trim is."
"Ok. The colors are actually quite similar to what you have here now, but they're just a little richer, a little warmer. What do you think?"
"Well…."
Inspiration hit her, and she moved past him towards the front door. "Wait, wait, wait." When she reached the front of the building, she turned the dial of the main lights, dimming the light in the room. "A little ambiance."
"This is a diner. We don't do ambiance."
She moved back over to him and shrugged her shoulders. "All right. One argument at a time. So, what do you think?"
"Honestly?"
"Yep."
"I have no idea. You like it?"
When she returned to Luke's side, she hadn't noticed how close she was to him, but when he turned and asked her what she thought, all she could think was, yes. Yes she liked him. She liked the way he made her feel. She liked being this close to him. She may have unconsciously licked her very dry lips, she wasn't sure, and she answered him truthfully. "Yeah."
"Ok."
"Good." The air around them was thick, and she could feel his body heat radiating off of him, and she was starting to feel heady. Just as she was thinking to hell with Stella, the front door of the diner burst open, and she jumped back to a respectable distance as she turned to see who was coming in. Lights flashed from the doorway, and it took her a moment to realize it was Andrew taking pictures. Thankfully Luke jumped in and kicked Andrew out, because she couldn't think clearly and needed the moment to regroup. As Luke flipped the sign on the door to 'closed,' she moved to the counter and sat down, grateful to get off of her legs which had gone wobbly on her, and knew she needed to get the conversation back onto the task at hand. "You know, listen…since you have to take everything off the walls anyway, now might be a really good time to decide what stuff you're going to keep and what stuff you're to get rid of."
"Everything stays."
He. was so. stubborn. "Ok, there's a plastic dancing pork chop that says…"
"Everything stays."
"… 'I lost my head over a good chop. You should too.'"
"Everything stays."
This was a battle she was not going to win. "Ok. Everything stays."
"You know, this place hasn't been painted since my dad was alive."
And with that, the suffocating haze of desire which had permeated the room since she first walked in a couple of hours ago lifted, and was replaced with the beginnings of true trust. He was opening up to her in a way he never had before. Never had he said anything about his father, and she knew this was his way of beginning a new connection with her, and she was entranced. She was riveted because she realized right away she actually cared about his past. Never before with a man had she cared about their past. "No, I didn't know that."
"He painted it before he opened it, and once more when the roof caved in one winter. I think that's probably it."
"The paint lasted a long time. He got his money's worth."
"Yep. He really loved this place, you know. This store was his life. Mine too, I guess. I spent every minute I wasn't in school here. I spent a lot of minutes I was supposed to be in school in here too."
As Luke talked, she could sense he was seeing memories of the past dance in front of his eyes. Even though he was there in front of her, it felt as though he was somewhere else. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and she was pretty sure not many other people in the world had been granted this kind of access to him. She absently started peeling the label off her beer bottle, as a question germinated in her head. "How come you opened a diner? Why didn't you keep it a hardware store?"
"I don't know. I didn't love the hardware business the way my dad did, and, you know, I knew how to cook, so I just thought a diner would be more…fun."
A giggle escaped her lips at his hesitation about saying that word. "That's a hard word for you to say." When he laughed at her observation, a calmness settled over her that she couldn't explain.
"Yeah. I just always wanted to work here. Just where Dad did."
"God, that's nice. To be so…I don't know…connected to your dad. That's…I would have loved that." As strained as her relationship was with her parents, deep down, she always wished she could have some sort of relationship with them. It was so easy to put up a front that she was totally ok being on her own, and not having them in her life, but she was always jealous of those around her who spoke so fondly of their relatives.
"Well, you've got that with Rory."
He was so confident in his words that it made her smile. He was always in her corner, and always could say just that right thing that would buoy her feelings. "Yeah…I guess so."
"You know, I still think there's a spot on the wall somewhere where my dad took an order one day when he ran out of paper."
There was a distinct shift in the mood in the air. That feeling of true trust she felt moments earlier was quickly burning into something more serious. It was like he was opening up to her one sentence at a time, and it was fascinating, especially since she sensed he was leading her somewhere specific. "Really? Where?"
"I don't know. Behind the counter maybe."
She knew he knew exactly where he was leading her, and she kept her gaze on him as she moved behind the counter.
"Next to the door. On the right side."
With his guidance, she looked down, and saw some words scrawled on the wall near the floor. As she sunk to the floor to see them better, she silently wondered why Luke's father would write something on the wall here. Why was he sitting on the floor as he took the order? Why hadn't he stood up and written it closer to the phone? Her inner questioning quietened however, when Luke sat down next to her. Instead of asking him if he knew, she started reading out the order. "'Three hammers, Phillips head screwdrivers…'"
"… 'and three boxes of nails in assorted sizes.'"
She breathed out at the reverence in his words.
"I've seen it from time to time."
His joke made her laugh, but she could tell how much this moment meant to Luke.
"Yeah, well, I guess it's time for a little spruce."
And she could also tell how much this particular spot meant to Luke. "Yeah, it is. But, let's not spruce this particular spot."
"That sounds good."
"Ok." God, the look he was giving her was incredibly intense. She could feel herself falling into his gaze. He had held her gaze many, many times, but this wasn't the heady look of desire she was used to seeing from him when they locked eyes for this long. No, this was different. This was much more intimate, and it was like he was seeing into her soul, causing a cloud of butterflies to dance in her stomach. She knew his body so well by now, and knew without a doubt in this moment he was going to lean forward and touch his lips to hers, but that same knowledge told her this kiss was going to be different. This wasn't going to be the start of a few hours of passionate lovemaking – no, this was going to be the start of something deeper. Something new. But then voices could be heard outside and the spell was momentarily broken as Luke began grumbling and started to stand.
Desperate to keep the moment going, she grabbed desperately at his arm, pulling him back down towards her. "No, no, don't get up."
"But if I don't get up…"
"They'll go away. They'll go away. Trust me. Shh." She rocked onto her knees, and crawled over to the edge of the counter, peeking around to watch as Taylor rattled the doorknob, and pointed to a few of the paint groupings that were still hanging on the wall. After a few moments, the crowd dispersed and she snorted at Taylor's persistence. When Luke spoke his gratitude to her, she suddenly realized how close he was to her. His smell was overpowering, and it was all she could do to not take him right then and there. But she forced herself to resist, because if she bowed to her body's desires, then she would have taken away from the rising intimacy of the night, and lose the prospect that was building of something more. She turned her head to answer him, and once again felt that pull towards him. But when she looked in his eyes, very, very briefly, she felt a flicker of nerves, and pulled away. This was Luke, and as much as she wanted to move forward with him, she understood her track record with men, and didn't want to screw it up with Luke. It seemed like he wanted more, but he had never asked her out, so maybe there was that chance he didn't want more. Maybe he only wanted what they currently had going. "I should go."
"Ok."
Disappointment was evident in his voice, but she had to be strong. She didn't want that kind of relationship with him anymore. She wanted something more, so she stood up, and awkwardly said her goodbyes before grabbing her jacket, and trying hard to not run out of the diner. It would have been so easy to give in to him right then and there, but she held strong.
So instead, she shuffled through the town square on the way back home, her hands shoved in her coat pockets, her head held low. What had started as an exciting evening, had quickly turned to disappointment.
"Lorelai! Honey!"
Her name being shouted from the mouth of none other than Miss Patty had her heart racing. Nothing good could come from this late night interaction, but she couldn't ignore the woman, so she slowed her gait, allowing Patty to catch up. "Hey, Patty."
"Where are you coming from at this late hour?"
"Huh? Oh, from Luke's. I was helping him pick out paint chips."
"Oh really? I just talked to Taylor and he was just over there. He said all the lights were out."
She stopped short, her blood quickening. "Really? That's weird."
"You sure you were just over there picking paint chips?"
Patty threw her a wink, and it took everything in her power to not react when Patty nudged her arm. The unspoken question dripped from Patty's words, but she couldn't react, or she would blow her cover. Besides, nothing had happened, so there was nothing to cover up tonight. "Yup. We decided on some colors and are going to pick up the paint later in the week."
"Aw, that's great, honey." The disappointment in there being nothing juicy to the story was evident in Patty's voice.
She forced a smiled, and turned to look towards her house, hoping Patty would take the hint she wanted to go. "Yeah." She turned back and looked at the town gossip. "So, I need to get going. Rory brought home a baby chick for a school project, and it's my job to feed it."
"Oh, dear, is that safe?"
Sometimes living in a small town had its downfalls, especially when everyone felt the need to have an opinion. However, she was too tired be offended at the moment. "Yeah, it's just one night. Have a goodnight, Patty."
"You too, dear."
The rest of the walk was mercifully quiet, and once she entered the house, all she could think of was feeding Stella, and then taking a long, hot bath. However, as she entered the kitchen, right away she could feel something was wrong, and when she saw the empty cage on the table, her stomach plummeted to her feet. Frantically, she moved through the house looking for the baby chick, but couldn't find Stella anywhere, and cursed Patty for jinxing her. There was no way she could handle this on her own. She needed help, so she grabbed the phone and dialed without even thinking, and when the ringing stopped, she wasn't sure if Luke had answered or not, so she spoke first. "Hello?"
"Yeah."
Oh, thank god. He did answer. "Luke? Stella got out and I don't know…do I put seed on the floor? Do I make cheeping sounds? Or do I pull a Lucy Ricardo and walk like a chicken so she thinks I'm her mother?"
"Who the hell is this?"
His question floored her. Really? "What do you mean who is this? It's Lorelai. Who else would call you looking for her baby chick?" Like, did he really have that many women calling him frantically about missing farm animals? Sometimes that man frustrated her to no end.
"You're right. I'm the idiot. Go on."
Exasperating. That's what he was. "Could you come over here please and help me?"
"Uh, yeah, ok. I'll be right over."
"Ok, hurry!" She was so wrapped up in needing to find Stella, she didn't even notice the hesitance in his voice. Instead, she threw the phone down and started throwing anything that was in her way so she could find the chick.
Finally, what seemed like hours later, she could see him come up to the side door, and it didn't even cross her mind that it was weird he would go to that door, and not the front door. Instead, as soon as she flung the door open and saw him standing there, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled him across the threshold, only dimly aware that the last time she had pulled him in the house like that was the night of Rory's birthday and the night she broke her rule of having men stay over. "Thank god. Get in here."
"This place is a disaster. What's going on?"
Ignoring the disbelief in his voice, she started slowly moving through the room, keeping her eyes sharp for any sort of movement. "Ok, the last sighting was here, by the InStyle magazine. But then she burrowed through the Glamour and jumped over the Cosmo and knocked over a brand new bottle of nail polish, so all I can tell you is if there was any doubt that this chick was a girl, well, there isn't anymore." A loud cheeping sounded from across the room, and she swung her head in the direction. "Ok, there she is!"
"Jeez…what was that?"
She moved over to the area where the cheeping came from, calling Stella's name.
"You really do have a chick loose in here."
His question threw her, and she furrowed her brow. "Yeah, I told you I had a chick loose in here." Movement caught her eye, and she turned towards it. "There she goes by the kitchen!" As she moved in the direction, she felt Luke next to her, and saw his boot come precariously close to Stella. "Don't step on her!"
"She cut right in front of me."
"Ok, well, she's being graded, so let's not squash her."
"Well, then, tell her to watch where she's going."
The two stalked around the room, moving furniture, tossing cushions, keeping as quiet as they could in case Stella decided to cheep again and make her presence known. However, after what seemed like hours, exhaustion was starting to seep through her bones, and she collapsed on the couch, giving up for the moment. Luke continued to look, and she watched him as he moved around her living room. She pointed towards the chair in the corner near the stairs, and again voiced her opinion that Stella was over there. But as Luke once again shot down her assumption, and the two bantered back and forth, she could tell her heart wasn't in the banter. It wasn't in it because since sitting down, her thoughts kept returning to Luke's statement when he first came over, and she needed to know why he said it, because to her, it seemed like he was assuming she was calling him over for sex. And quite frankly, after the intimacy they had shared at the diner that evening, it kind of hurt her to think that maybe he really only did want her for her body. Maybe he didn't want anything more from her. She had to know. "Hey, Luke, what did you mean earlier?"
"What are you talking about?"
"When you got here. You made some comment about me not really having a chick in the house."
"Hmmm."
He was avoiding answering her, she could tell, so she decided to be a little more forthright. "I mean, if I didn't have a chick here, why did you think I was calling?"
"No, I thought you were calling about the chick."
"It didn't seem like it."
"Well maybe it didn't seem like it, but it was."
"Was what?"
"Was what I thought…can we just keep looking?"
He was still avoiding her questioning, and she was beginning to think that maybe her fears were correct. "Ok. I just still think that…"
"There she is."
She looked over to where he was pointing. "Where?"
"There!"
As he flew across the room, she knew in her heart this was going to end badly, and when her favorite lemon lamp went down with Luke and she heard glass breaking, she flinched. "Careful!" When he slowly stood up, she noticed his hands where curved around something, and she stood up, their conversation quickly forgotten. "Oh my god. Did you get her?"
"I got her."
She raced over to him, and placed her hands over his, ignoring the electricity shooting between them as she grasped for Stella. "Give her to me, give her to me."
"Careful, careful!"
When she felt the soft down in her hands, she held on as tightly as she felt she could get away with, and moved quickly to the cage, pushed Stella in, and closed the door. Before anything else could happen, she went into Rory's room to find Stella's food, and returned to the kitchen. As she poured the pellets into a cup, she noticed Luke had retreated to the living room. Once the cup was safely in the cage along with Stella, and the chick was eating happily, she felt like she could breathe. "She's never going anywhere ever again. I'm thinking of slipping some super glue on the bottom of the cage. That would be bad, right? I mean, I know staples are bad, but what's the verdict on super glue?" She tapped the side of the cage as she spoke, feeling her blood finally stop racing now that Stella was securely back in her cage.
"Ask Stella."
Luke walked past her, and she noticed he was carrying a trash bag and the broken lamp. "Oh, you don't have to do that."
"This stuff is sharp. I want to get it out of the way."
Suddenly, she felt awkward. It felt as though something had once again shifted between the two of them, and she couldn't figure out what it was. "Well, thanks for helping."
"No problem. I'm going to throw this stuff outside."
She watched as he retreated out the door, and thought back over the night's events. While it was true, she was disappointed he didn't seem to be on the same page as her at the moment about their relationship, it's not like she was going to push him away. He moved slowly when it came to communicating, she knew that, and maybe he just needed a little more time. And in the meantime, he was here, at her house, Rory was gone for the night, so there could be a real possibility of an almost full night sleepover. Her lips curled into a devious smile, and suddenly she was remembering the moments in the diner when he was so close to her she could feel his body heat radiating. Before she knew it, her blood was starting to hum, and she decided Luke needed to stay over. But with the way he had walked out, she knew it was a possibility he would just throw the trash out and continue on his way home, so she rushed out to the porch, talking before she could even see him. "Hey, Luke, is there…Dean." The presence of Rory's boyfriend had her stopping short in her question, and jarring her into 'mom mode.' As she was beginning her interrogation of the boy, and what he was doing in her front yard, her daughter made an appearance on Babette's porch, and she couldn't help herself. "Uh, what the hell are you two doing?"
As both Rory and Dean stumbled through a probable explanation as to what they were doing, she forgot all about the fact that Luke was standing there witnessing the entire scene until Rory pointed out his presence and suddenly she had no excuse as to why Luke was there. Neither reason could be voiced – not the missing chick, and definitely not the possible sleepover. "Oh, uh…in the house…" God, sometimes her words just failed her miserably. And unfortunately, Luke was just as unsmooth as she was.
"And then the lamp sorta…I'm gonna get going."
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry about this."
"Forget it."
"Ok, bye."
Oh god, that was so awkward she wanted a hole to swallow her up right then and there, but then her eyes refocused on Dean, and she remembered the situation, and promptly segued into teasing her daughter mercilessly. Rory backed away, but then called for help because Apricot was missing, and all Lorelai could think about was how great that hot bath still sounded.
…
All night she laid awake going over everything that had happened that night between she and Luke. There was just so much to consider, and she was terrified to make the first move into something more in case he didn't want that. She knew without a doubt that life would not be easy if she had to avoid Luke all the time. She stared at the darkened ceiling, her mind racing, and ultimately decided she needed a second opinion about Luke's reactions at her house that night, and chanced broaching it with Sookie, hoping against hope she wouldn't admit to already sleeping with Luke.
But that morning, as she was talking to her friend, she suddenly found herself being pulled into a debate as to what the code was for 'I'm not wearing any underwear' and immediately got defensive because, as Sookie said out loud, "can you come over and help me look for my loose chick' it did sound a little like code for 'I'm not wearing any underwear.' And if it sounded like that to her now, it definitely must have sounded like that to Luke when she said it the night before. But, even that didn't make sense, because if she wanted him in bed, all she had to do was ask him. There was no need for code words. Did he think she was speaking in code because Rory was within earshot? No, that couldn't be it. She had to be sure about what Sookie was insinuating though. "So you're saying Luke thought I made up a crazy story about a chick being loose in the house just to get him in bed?"
"Not just to get him in bed, but maybe he thought you wanted to see him and you didn't know how to say it."
"That's nuts."
"A woman asking a man to come over late at night to her house. Come on."
"Yeah, but this is Luke we're talking about." And that was the issue at the moment. It was Luke they were talking about. Luke, who she was already sleeping with, but terrified to move to the next level with, regardless of how much she wanted to. Luke, who she had chickened out on the night before because she wanted him to ask her, not her asking him, and now Sookie was telling her that her request for help last night was actually code for wanting something more from him, and apparently, so was her offer to help repaint the diner. When Sookie brought that particular situation up, she felt herself getting angry, since Rory had already pointed out the absurdity of the offer. Everyone seemed to be pointing out to her that her feelings for Luke had clearly changed, and it was freaking her out. Yes, she was thinking the same thing, but if people in town were pointing out things about a situation they didn't even know, that meant her heart was very clearly on her sleeve, and for some reason, Luke was doing nothing about it. The conversation with Sookie wasn't going where she wanted it to go, and she found herself angry and frustrated, so she absently thanked her friend, and stormed out of the kitchen.
…
She somehow managed to avoid Sookie for the remainder of the day, and snuck out early so she could escape to the comfort of her own home. Her thoughts were more jumbled than usual, and ideally, she would have liked the evening to herself with a pot of coffee and a whole pizza, while Rory was out with Dean, so she could just think. But alas, Friday night dinner was calling, and as soon as Rory got home from school, every moment to think deep thoughts was sucked away as she and Rory began their usual Friday dance of being on time until the moment they were horribly, horribly late, and not yet dressed. They managed to work around each other getting ready, and raced to the car – way too late to stop at Luke's for coffee, and tore down the freeway, silently thanking the traffic gods for the accident-free lane, which afforded them arriving barely on time.
As conversation started for the evening, she almost immediately stuck her foot in her mouth, so she nudged the conversation towards Stella, a relatively safe subject. But then Rory brought up Luke, and just the mere mention of his name had her blood running cold, as though everyone in the room knew exactly what she and Luke were doing behind closed doors. Thankfully, Rory jumped in to try to mend her mistake, but of course Emily was much too laser focused on the mention of Luke, and Lorelai knew deep within her soul, she wasn't going to be able to shake Emily loose. "Oh, look, there's no ice. I'll get some." Maybe if she switched rooms, she could lose Emily. However, as she moved towards the kitchen, she could feel her mother hot on her heels.
"I asked you a question."
"He was helping me find the bird, Mom."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"And how did he know that the bird was missing? What, was he strolling by your house and he heard your plaintive cries for help?"
"Mom."
"Or the helpless cheep of a chick in trouble?"
"I called him, Mom. Ok? I called him and asked him to come over and help me look for the bird. Ok?"
"It seems like this man is always around when you're in trouble."
"He's a good friend."
"Oh, please."
She scoffed. "Do we have to discuss this?"
"Lorelai, I'm getting a little tired of being lied to."
"Apparently we do."
"This man was at Rory's birthday party. He came to the hospital with you. He's the male lead in every story you tell. You go to the diner every single day. I've seen the way he looks at you…the way you look at him. I'm not a fool."
"Mom, please."
"Why do you treat me like I don't have a clue in the world as to what is going on in your life? Now I'm asking you, as a favor, if you have any respect for me at all as your mother, just tell me. Do you have feelings for this man?"
She felt trapped under her mother's gaze, and couldn't find the words to get her out of the interrogation. Finally, she knew that only the truth would get Emily to give up. "I don't know. Maybe I do. I haven't given it that much thought. Maybe I do."
"Thank you. I'm glad you were finally honest with me. Now we can discuss what on earth you could possibly be thinking. Don't forget the ice."
After Emily left the room, Lorelai put her hands on the counter, and hung her head. Two people in one day had questioned her true feelings for Luke, and neither one had any knowledge of anything more than friendship between she and Luke. Sookie had gone straight for assuming Lorelai wanted Luke in bed, which was true, and Emily had gone straight to forcing Lorelai to admit that she might have actual, real feelings for Luke, which was also true. Her head was spinning, and she really, really needed time to focus on what could potentially be happening here.
"Lorelai! Are you waiting for new ice to freeze? Get out here."
She sighed as she heard her mother's voice yell out to her, and gathered the ice to bring out.
….
"You ok?"
She slid her eyes over to Rory before looking back to the road in front of her. "Of course. This is the best time of the entire week, because it's literally the furthest point from having to see my parents again."
"You know what I mean."
"Well, that duck my mother served tonight isn't sitting too well right now, if that's what you mean."
"Mom, come on. Was Grandma really upset about Luke?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, you could say that."
"I'm sorry for saying anything."
She looked over briefly and then reached out to pat her daughter's leg. "Aw, don't worry, kid. It's not like I haven't had this discussion with your grandmother before. It'll be fine. Next week I'll wear rhinestones, and all will be forgotten." Even she knew that her words didn't sound convincing, but her energy was so low, it was all she could do.
After a few miles of silence, Rory spoke up. "Would you be ok if I went over to Dean's for a bit tonight?"
"Yeah, of course. I should probably go talk to Luke anyways to make plans to pick up paint for the diner."
"I still think it's weird you offered to do that."
She sighed, and chose to ignore the statement. There was no way she was going to rehash this particular subject yet again. "I'll drop you off."
The atmosphere in the car was pretty dour, and she was happy when the sign for Stars Hollow came into view. Without speaking, she parked in front of Dean's house and waited for Rory to climb out. Before she did however, Rory looked back into the car. "Mom…"
She waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm just tired. I'll get some coffee, make some plans, and I'll see you at home later on."
"Ok."
As Rory closed the door behind her, she let out a long breath, and threw the Jeep in drive, heading over to Luke's. Through the windows, she could see him tipping chairs up on tables, so she knew he was closed. But, since he was never closed for her, she parked and walked up to the door, tapping on the window to get his attention. When he saw it was her, she waved a little, and smiled as he moved towards the door and opened it.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Just getting back from your parents'?"
"Yeah." When he didn't move from the threshold of the door to let her pass, she felt a little uneasy, so fell back on her usual defense mechanism. "Training for your new job as a bouncer?"
He seemed to realize what he was doing, and stepped aside, allowing her to walk in, and take her usual seat at the counter.
"I wanted to see when you wanted to go get paint."
"Oh."
It seemed like he had been expecting her to say something else and was thrown by her statement, but she continued on anyways. "Yeah, I mean, we could go together tomorrow so then we'll have everything." She watched as he relocked the front door, and swiveled on her stool as he rounded the counter and headed towards the coffeepot, which she noticed was full. It was almost as if he was waiting for her arrival.
"Coffee?"
She smirked. "Do you even have to ask?"
Wordlessly, he pulled her favorite mug down and filled it to the brim. She smiled her gratitude, and ducked her head down to take a long sip. While she slowly emptied her cup, she was acutely aware of Luke moving around the diner, finishing up on the final items that needed to be done for the night. When the overhead lights went out, she wasn't surprised, and was even less surprised when he brushed his fingers along her ass as he walked by and headed towards the curtain. She looked up at him when he paused on the threshold, and put down her coffee cup. "Can we just sit tonight?"
He looked surprised at her request, but nodded. "Of course."
Taking a quick glance outside the windows, and feeling confident no one was out there, she gathered her bag and coat, and followed Luke upstairs and into his apartment. When the door closed behind her, she noticed Luke was standing awkwardly a few feet away from her. Taking pity on him, she reached for his hand, walked him to the couch, and pulled him down next to her. Once he was settled, she curled into him, and finally relaxed when his arms wrapped around her.
After the discussions with Sookie and Emily that day, it just felt wrong to jump into bed with Luke tonight, regardless of what her body was craving. Instead, she was content to just have him hold her, so she could relax for a few minutes. However, she couldn't stay long, because she wasn't sure how soon Rory would be home, and there was no way she could explain why the diner was visibly closed, yet she still wasn't home.
"You ok?"
His voice startled her a little, but she appreciated his concern. However, time was ticking away from her, so she pulled from his embrace. She knew she needed to talk to him, but needed to do so when they had time, and not when Rory was on her way home. "So, tomorrow? Paint trip?"
"Sounds good." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're ok?"
She smiled and started backing away to the door. "Yup. Just a lot on my mind. Bye, Luke."
"Bye, crazy lady."
…..
The next day went by with she and Luke acting like the friends they were, and after dropping off more paint than she could imagine at the diner, and setting a date for Friday to paint the place, she was happy to see Rory. With a plan set for Chinese food for dinner, and a quick stop for fruit, the day was on course to being a good one.
And when she heard the distinct roar of an Indian motorcycle going through town, she could feel her blood pumping, and all she wanted to do was run in front of the driver and ask him to let her ride with him.
But then the driver stopped right near them, and when he made an inappropriate comment to her, she instantly regretted her desire to have the driver take her away. Instead, he took her daughter away, and as she watched them ride off into the sunset, she knew her life was suddenly going to take a turn, and not necessarily for the better. All she could do in the moment, was mutter his name. "Christopher."
