Lorelai woke up to the feeling of falling. Out of control, out of time, falling. Her stomach pitched forward and she sat bolt upright in her bed. She looked at the clock, and smothered a groan. 5:24am. Perfect.

She lay there for a while, contemplating her dream.

In it, she had been running late for something. A date, maybe. Or work? She couldn't really remember. Lorelai had been rushing through the house, searching frantically for her keys. She had been yelling for Rory to help her when she entered the kitchen and found the entire town seated at her dining table, all dressed in black. Well, not really the WHOLE town, but enough to rethink the authenticity of the dream.

Babette had been there, seated next to Morey. Miss Patty lounged by the toaster, Kirk seated on the counter, and Taylor hovering by the back door. There were others there too (Andrew, Ms. Kim, Gypsy, and Sookie, to name a few), and every person in the room was dressed for a funeral, all in black. All their heads tilted down to the floor (which seemed, for some reason or another, was covered with old-fashioned movie posters depicting Lorelai's face giving the camera a dramatic side eye), and wouldn't look up at her when Lorelai called their names.

She was about to give up, so frustrated that she could cry, when she turned around and found Luke, wearing his normal flannel and army jacket, looking right at her with a half-smile.

He pressed her car keys into her hands and chuckled. "You really should take a second and realize if somethin's right in front of ya," Luke gruffly scolded, a teasing smile in his blue eyes.

Lorelai had been about to shriek and thank him profusely, because oh my GOD had she been stressed, when he abruptly leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"You need to go," he said, moving out of her way, "And for Pete's sake, don't just stand there! You don't wanna be late."

With that, her dream had dissolved around her, and she was left with nothing but sweaty palms and a heightened sense of awareness at 5:24 in the morning.

Lorelai groaned again, this time louder, and swung her legs out of bed. She could feel in her bones that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, so she might as well carpe diem!

She pulled herself out of bed and shook out her fingers, jumping a little at the unexpectedly frigid room that welcomed her. The chilled morning was a reminder that autumn was right around the corner.

Pulling on some real clothes (a cute, rust-colored turtleneck she had stolen from Rory's cloet and some jeans), Lorelai creeped down the stairs, wincing at every creaky step. She knew that if she was too loud, she would wake up her daughter and, after pilfering her cutest turtleneck, she was already treading on thin ice.

Rory had been having sleeping troubles lately anyway. Tossing and turning, staying up late and looking like a discount Halloween decoration-type zombie when she woke up. This had been going on for a while now, and Lorelai half-suspected it had something to do with Luke's nephew spending a little more time with the girl than Dean would probably be comfortable with. But that, as hard as it was for her to say, was none of Lorelai's business.

Regardless, she tried to be extra sneaky as she wandered to the kitchen. No matter the time, no matter the place, no matter the hour, no matter the space, a Gilmore needs coffee if she wants to go someplace. Huh. Rhyming. Yet another aspect of early-morning-Lorelai that was waiting to be explored.

She hummed a made-up tune and tried to think of more lyrics as she rummaged blindly around the kitchen, searching for coffee. She came up empty.

With a degree of panic, Lorelai fumbled more hastily for the elixir of life. Or, her life, at least. She needed the coffee, she needed it NOW.

Then, with the third groan of the morning, she remembered that the last of the coffee had been spent of a last-minute fix the previous afternoon, after Michel had given her a particularly hard time at the front desk (usually she welcomed this, as it was hysterical to see the Frenchman's face screw up like a lemon, but yesterday she just hadn't been in the mood).

Well, that certainly made her morning. And not in a good way, either.

LUKE'S! She thought with a jolt of happiness, he opens this early, I think!

And, even if he doesn't, she thought to herself with a heartwarming smile, he'll probably let me in anyway. He was that good of a friend.

Her mind drifted back momentarily to her dream, lingering on the moment where she had seen him and felt.. so… relieved. Happy. Like since he was there, everything would end up okay after all. Luke really was a regular Lancelot, she thought with another smile.

She chose to skirt over the part of her dream that had his lips pressed against her forehead, tender and sweet against her skin. She didn't think of him that way. Sure, he was handsome (there probably wasn't a red-blooded woman in Stars Hollow that didn't think so), but he just— he was her friend. HE saw her as a friend, and Lorelai didn't want to make things weird.

So things weren't weird! Good, that's good. Lorelai rubbed her eyes and mussed up her hair. She was too tired to be thinking like this. Thinking about.. to be thinking like this. She needed coffee.

And, she thought, bounding to the door, to get coffee I have to go to Luke's!

She scribbled a quick note to Rory and pulled on her shoes. As a second thought, Lorelai grabbed a coat before heading out. It was still dark outside, but she could find her way easily.

As she walked, Lorelai tried to rid herself of all thoughts. She just focused on the clear, indigo sky, and stuffed her frigid hands farther into her pockets.

Soon she arrived to find her Lancelot, clad in his armor of flannel and unreadable yet grumpy-looking expression, already waiting for her.