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Rain.
Lorelai wasn't asleep. Not at all. She sat on the edge of her bed, feet dangling, toes wriggling. Times like these made her feel eight years old all over again. Rain streamed down the frosted glass pane, and she thought she could hear the distant pitter-patter-pitter-patter as raindrops hit the ground. Enveloped by the darkness of night and embraced by the soothing drum of rain, Lorelai Gilmore was euphoric. She breathed in deeply and lay back against her pillows, cool against her bare skin.
She couldn't fall asleep again. It was three a.m. on a Saturday, true, and no self-respecting Gilmore girl should be up at such an unearthly hour. She thought of Rory, fast asleep, dreaming dreams of Harvard or Yale, or god forbid – Jess. She thought of dinner, last night with the parents. She thought. – She thought she heard a yelp.
But it's probably just the rain.
She couldn't go back to sleep. She sat back up in her bed, frowning. Three a.m. in the morning, and she had nowhere to go. Lorelai dragged herself onto the floor, pushing the bed sheets and blankets off her – they'd never seemed quite so suffocating before. She tiptoed out of her room. She'd probably go downstairs; grab a cup of coffee or two. Maybe she'd watch a little late night TV.
Or maybe she'd just stay here, and listen to the rain.
Lorelai leaned over and switched her CD player on. Mmm. There's nothing like Metallica at a time like this. Especially if it's raining. Lorelai felt giddy with happiness, but then she always felt giddy. She looked out the window and she thought she saw the sun peeking out from behind the horizon, glistening through the rain. She didn't think she'd ever seen the sun rise before.
Within minutes Lorelai was sitting on the porch, sheltered from the rain, sipping a cup of coffee. She thought she'd seen a light flicker in Rory's room on her way down, but she couldn't be sure. Probably just the lightning. The lukewarm coffee warmed her insides as the cold draught ruffled her hair. She wrapped a blanket around herself, and huddled inside. She'd have preferred a cup of Luke's coffee any time, but she didn't think he'd welcome her if she arrived on her doorstep at three a.m. in the morning. Although, knowing Luke, he was probably out for an early morning jog or something. She shuddered. Jogging. Who'd want to do something like that voluntarily?
The rain drowned out any outside noise, though Lorelai thought she could still hear strains of the chorus of Fuel. Lorelai reached a foot out and gingerly toed the wet, muddy grass. It felt cold, a bit hard, but mmm, so nice. Nice was a good word.
Lorelai put out another food, then an arm, and then shifted herself so that she was on the grass, rain pouring down all around her. She was soaked to the bone, pajamas sticking to her arms and legs and back. She jumped up and down once or twice, then twirled. Rory was probably right – Lorelai Gilmore was thirty-four going on six. Excitement coursed through her veins, and she twirled once more for good measure.
"Lorelai!" A voice called out in the dark, sounding horrified. Lorelai swiveled around on her heels to see Luke gaping at her from the window of his truck, his cap askew. She smiled, and strutted over to his truck, leaning in with a dazzling smile.
"Hey, burger boy." She touched his arm lightly. He shivered at her freezing touch.
"What the hell are you doing, dancing around like this, in the rain? And it's – " Luke peered at his watch " – three thirty a.m. On a Saturday. Lorelai, are you high?" Luke demanded, looking furious. "Believe me, if you're sick in bed tomorrow, don't expect me to drop by with soup and a cup of coffee." Lorelai giggled and shrugged, then tugged at his sleeve playfully. Luke felt exasperated. He swore, sometimes he just didn't know what to do with this girl.
"Look." Lorelai waved her arm, gesturing at everything around them. The rain, the flowers, the hint of sunrise – but Luke didn't see any of this. Lorelai's face was alive with wonderment and glee.
He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
For once, Lorelai appeared speechless, as she stared back at him through those blue eyes, her dark brown wet hair sticking to the nape of her neck. Luke tried his hardest not to look at her pajamas. Rain was streaming down her face, her neck, and Lorelai shivered ever so slightly.
Luke noticed, and he sighed. "Come on," he said, pulling open the door. "Let's get you warm and dry." Lorelai climbed in reluctantly, curling up in the seat of his truck, head on her knees, legs tucked under here. Luke reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a thermos flask. "Here."
Coffee. Wonderful, wonderful coffee. Steaming hot under her fingertips, her lips and tongue thawed under its bittersweet taste.
"Honestly, Lorelai – what is wrong with you; for one, you're never up this early – someone should document this. Lorelai Gilmore, awake at three thirty a.m. on a Saturday morning. You'd make headlines."
Lorelai looked up from her coffee rather indignantly. "Hey." It might be true, but a true Gilmore Girl never goes down without a fight. "It was raining," as though it explained everything. "And besides," her eyes narrowed. "You're up too, and you're here. What are you doing here?" She glared accusingly, as Luke squirmed uncomfortably.
"I had stuff. To do, I mean." Lorelai cocked an eyebrow. "Rory's light is on," Luke noted suddenly, seeming eager to avoid the subject. Lorelai was still soaked, and a little too engrossed with coffee to care.
"She's probably reading, or something." Lorelai waved it off nonchalantly.
"Or something." Luke echoed thoughtfully, remembering the two empty beds he'd left behind. He decided not to mention it.
Lorelai looked like she was getting comfortable. Still drenched with rain. It didn't appear to bother her much though, but Luke knew a sick Gilmore was a cranky Gilmore. He thought he liked his Gilmores better cheery. He handed her his flannel shirt. "Here. Dry off." Lorelai snuggled into his shirt without a word. " – and don't go getting too close, 'cause I want it back."
"Aw, 'cause I was thinking of naming it – "
"Lorelai." Luke interrupted loudly. Lorelai stifled a yawn. Now that she was all warm and pretty much dry, she felt sleepy again. It wasn't even really raining anymore. More of a drizzle really. Lorelai cuddled up to Luke, pulling his arm around her waist, leaning her head against his chest. Mmm. Luke-arms. She wouldn't normally do this, she assured herself. He was warn, and familiar.
"Lorelai…" Luke sounded a bit confused, peering down at the dark mass of curls in his arms. Lorelai didn't answer.
The rain had come to a standstill. Luke leaned his head back against his seat. He didn't know what to do, but then he never knew what to do around Lorelai.
Four a.m., on a Saturday morning.