This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily ( http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=288788 ) and CircleSky.
A Few Verses Short of a Christmas Carol
CHAPTER 6: The Age-Old Existential Question: Which Came First, the Goose or the Egg?
The next evening, Jess came out of the diner's kitchen where he'd been washing dishes. Behind the counter, the sight of Luke staring out the window greeted him. Jess followed Luke's eyes to the point where they landed – on Taylor Doose, who was standing outside the window, occasionally being propelled into pacing by an unknown agitation.
"How long has he been out there?"
"About fifteen minutes," Luke replied. "He's acting like he's casing the place. I hope he's not trying to come up with the 'perfect' decorations to pester me with."
"Huh," Jess nodded, losing interest after a moment. Taylor was Luke's problem, not his. "I'm gonna go get ready for the party," he said to Luke. It was the night the Secret Santas would be revealed, and Jess was going to dress up a little bit for Rory.
But, before Jess could turn and head for the stairs, Taylor had a sudden burst of determination and entered the diner at last. Jess couldn't help but notice the no-nonsense look on Taylor's face. The look wasn't altogether unusual for Taylor, except that, this time, it was focused on Jess rather than Jess's uncle.
"Jess Mariano," Taylor grumbled. "I've decided to just get this over with."
"And what might 'this' be?" Jess finger-quoted, turning to face the older man.
"This might be the worst moment of my life," Taylor wailed under his breath.
"And I was there to witness it? I feel so privileged," Jess said sweetly.
"Why is this the worst moment of your life, Taylor?" Luke asked. "And be forewarned, I may take great pleasure in the reason."
"Because I had to stoop to being Secret Santa to this… rapscallion," Taylor replied, gesturing at Jess with disgust.
Luke burst out laughing. "You're Jess's Secret Santa?"
"You've been giving me all those gifts?" Jess had to admit it made sense now, if one turned around and looked at the gifts in a purely literal way. He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his Santa was just Taylor and not some sex-crazed, kinky psychotic. Then a sly smile snaked across his features. What he'd once found disturbing had suddenly become very entertaining.
"Unfortunately, yes," Taylor groaned.
"Well, Taylor," Jess teased, adopting an exaggeratedly astonished tone. "I never knew you liked me that way… Handcuffs? Gosh… And that last gift? Your intentions were quite apparent, Mister!"
"That's not funny, Young Man!"
"I know, I know. This is a sensitive subject," Jess continued with mocking sympathy. "It's just that – how do I put this? I'm flattered; don't get me wrong. But, well, you're not really my type," he stage-whispered. "I'm not into all of that kinky stuff."
"I've never been so insulted!" Taylor huffed, horrified. He turned to stomp out the door.
Jess called after him before he had the chance to make his exit. "It's not too late though. Maybe we can work it out!"
At that, Taylor froze and stomped back over to Jess, thrusting some cash at him. "Here! I almost forgot; this is your last gift from me, Young Man. So don't you dare try to steal it later!" As Taylor forced out the words, he recalled his earlier thoughts and couldn't believe that he'd actually felt guilty for depriving this miscreant of worthwhile gifts. Why, he'd actually thought for a second that maybe Jess could buy something nice with the money.
Truth be told, the money Taylor was offering him wasn't much, and Jess would probably steal more anyway, the next chance he got, but tradition was tradition, and he couldn't very well give his Giftee only four gifts. Looking at Jess now, he could tell by the glint in his eye that the money had been a very bad idea.
"Money?" Jess asked incredulously. "You wanna pay for it? No, no, Baby. I'll do it for free!"
That was the last straw for Taylor; he turned again, sputtering in outrage, and finally left Luke and Jess alone to laugh at the whole scene.
***
The weather was unseasonably warm for Christmas Eve. After bestowing the last of her presents on an appreciative Shannon Hicks, Rory walked about Town Square, observing the party in full swing all around her, under the vast array of twinkle lights and patio lanterns.
From across the square, she caught sight of Miss Patty with her arm around Dean. Rory supposed she should go make an effort to save her boyfriend from the woman's clutches, but in all honesty, she didn't feel like seeing Dean just then. Thankfully, Rory was able to brush aside the momentary pangs of guilt when she saw her mother intercept Miss Patty on her behalf.
She and Dean had come to the party separately, mostly because, although Jess hadn't admitted it outright, his innuendo the previous day had given Rory every indication that he was her Santa. She certainly didn't want Dean to be with her when Jess definitively revealed it at last.
Rory made polite small talk with the people she passed, knowing full well the entire time she was really only there to find Jess. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.
Rory decided to take a walk across the square, down towards the diner, hoping she'd have more luck there. She was scanning the surrounding area intently when she suddenly felt a strong hand on her arm, pulling her behind a nearby building. Surprisingly, she wasn't afraid; she knew who it was without looking.
"Jess!" she gasped. Turning around, she found herself swimming in a pair of deep brown eyes. His smile was hypnotic.
"For you," he said.
Still dazed, she gave him a confused look. "What?"
"For you, my Giftee," he repeated, and, for the first time, Rory noticed that Jess was offering her a single red rose. She slowly reached for it, her eyes rarely straying from his. When Rory's hand finally reached its destination and wrapped delicately around the thin stem, Jess withdrew his own hand, letting his fingers slide across hers temptingly in the process. Rory's breath quickened.
"You wrote that poem," she said, her words both a question and a statement.
"I did."
"For me?"
"Of course." He smiled, amused by her reaction.
"And you… m-meant it?"
"Yeah," he said softly, instantly serious. "You're the only person who thinks I'm worth anything."
"Anyone who doesn't see your worth is crazy."
"You always give me more credit than I deserve."
"No, I don't," Rory contended sincerely. "Actually, you deserve a lot more."
Jess moved his head back slightly, and, for an instant, his surprised pleasure was reflected in a raised eyebrow and widened eyes. Although it only took a split second for him to recover his characteristic nonchalance, the rare glimpse into the passions behind the façade was enough for Rory to realize that, even though it hadn't been her intention, her reply had been interpreted romantically. His mistake didn't bother her though, and, because it was a flattering thought, she did nothing to correct him.
To Jess, she was regarding him with so much open honesty that he felt a shy smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Her comment had been a sweet symphony to his ears, and, without warning – yet with complete ease – he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Instinctively raising his hand to rest ever so lightly on her cheek, he chose not to think about what his actions meant and focused, instead, on the petal soft caress of her lips as she returned the gesture.
It was a simple, perfect little kiss.
Jess blinked in wonder as he lowered his hand and leaned away from Rory again. He'd meant to give her the flower, certainly – he'd even planned to pull her away from the party so he could deliver it in private – but the kiss… that had been a completely unpremeditated and totally unexpected occurrence. Looking at Rory, who stood calmly blinking back at him, he suspected it had come as a surprise to her as well.
He'd thought about kissing her a million times – when she'd yelled at him for disrespecting Luke, in the sleigh when she'd contended Dean was the perfect guy for her, on the bridge – but, in the past, he'd always stopped himself. This time though, something had been different; the kiss had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. But now that it was over, he couldn't help remembering why he'd always held back in the past.
"Sorry," he murmured with slight pangs of anxiety and embarrassment, meeting her eyes timidly. "I don't know why I did that. It just seemed like..."
"Yeah, it did..." she agreed. It was then that Jess recognized the look of calm and understanding on her face. The look relaxed him, and he ceased his struggle for the right words. He knew she understood how the moment had worked its magic on him. He knew it had worked its magic on both of them.
Rory stared at him, loving the way he suddenly seemed so innocent and unsure. His softened features made him even more attractive in her eyes. Her breath escaped her parted lips in unhurried gasps, and, as she noticed the way his foggy, frosted breath swirled together with hers in the short space between them, she remembered the warm feel of it on her lips. It had felt so right, so perfect, she thought. Like the time for it had come, and, dutifully, she and Jess were merely carrying out cosmic commands.
The only concern weighing on her mind, and wracking her body with guilt, was that she'd been kissing Jess even while knowing, at any moment, Dean could find them there. Even more disturbing, she realized, was her first thought had been that Dean shouldn't catch her kissing Jess, not that she should have been kissing Dean instead.
Jess looked into Rory's crystalline blue eyes and tried to figure out what thoughts might be running through her mind. He couldn't help but feel an ache of disappointment when she broke his gaze and glanced in the direction of the party. He wasn't sure what the gesture meant. The look on her face didn't suggest that she wanted to go; quite the opposite, she looked like she really wanted to stay. But, despite what her face was saying, Jess knew Rory well enough to recognize the guilt she must be feeling – a guilt that he didn't share. Nevertheless, he decided to make it easier on her.
"You should go, Rory," he said gently. "Everyone's probably looking for you."
"Yeah," Rory reluctantly agreed, turning her eyes back to his. "I should probably find my mom."
"Ok," Jess said, nodding stoically. As much as he wanted to find out if their second kiss would surpass the first, he didn't want to push her. She looked at him a moment longer and then turned to go. Before she could take that first step away from him, however, she shocked Jess by turning back to him and moving closer instead. Tentatively, she laid her hand on his shoulder and, leaning forward, placed a small kiss on his cheek. He couldn't help but grin and look at her questioningly as she pulled away.
"Thank you for all the presents," she said with a shy smile.
"Anytime," he answered, nonchalant even as his eyes took on a mischievous glint.
"I'll see you."
He smirked. "I think you will."
***
From under the patio lanterns in the gazebo, Lorelai watched poor, manhandled Dean flee Miss Patty's vicinity and smiled sympathetically. Poor boy is gonna need ten showers to wash the scariness of that encounter off him.
"Lorelai, Sweetie, I've been looking for you," Miss Patty said, drawing Lorelai's attention away from Dean and back to the object of her ire.
"Really, Patty? That's funny because I've been looking for you too," Lorelai said coldly, giving the woman her sternest face.
"You have?" Patty asked innocently. "Why's that?"
"You're my Secret Santa."
"Oh, I'm found out!" Miss Patty said with a devilish grin. "What gave me away?"
"What gave you away?" Lorelai asked incredulously. "Well, there's only one person I know who insists on setting me up on dates. Unnecessary dates, might I add." Lorelai took a breath and calmed herself down. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Miss Patty. Really, I do, but I'm capable of arranging my own dates."
"A little push now and then never hurts."
"If you'd been on those dates, you'd be retracting that statement right now," Lorelai half-joked.
"I'm sure they couldn't have been that bad," Miss Patty said confidently. "You didn't have any fun at all?"
Lorelai opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. If nothing else, the dates had been good for a few laughs.
Miss Patty smiled in satisfaction.
"That isn't the point," Lorelai asserted.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Dear," Miss Patty drawled, suppressing her smile. "What is the point then?"
"The point," Lorelai began, flustered. "The point, Miss Patty, is that I would like it – no, I would love it – if you would stop trying to find me a husband."
"I just want you to be happy."
"I know that," Lorelai answered, softening. "I do, but what would make me very happy is if no more strange men show up on my doorstep."
"All right. If you insist." Miss Patty pouted disapprovingly.
"Thank you!" Lorelai said gratefully. "And… thank you for the gifts, as nightmarishly unwanted as they were."
"You're very welcome, Darling," Miss Patty murmured. "A pretty thing like you should have a date every night, you know."
"Um. Thanks. But Patty, we understand each other now, right?" Lorelai pressed, squinting her eyes at the woman. "You're not going to do any more matchmaking. Last night was the last date."
"Sure, sure, Honey. I promise I won't send any more hotties to your doorstep. From now on, you'll set up all your dates yourself." She patted Lorelai's arm distractedly. Someone to Lorelai's left had caught Miss Patty's eye. Lorelai looked on as Patty called Luke over to them.
"Lorelai, Dear, it's Christmas Eve. You get your last gift tonight," Patty purred. Lorelai and Luke looked at the woman blankly. Miss Patty smirked and pointed upward. She'd positioned them under the mistletoe.
"Patty, you promised!" Lorelai protested loudly.
"Now, I did nothing of the sort," Miss Patty said sweetly. "This isn't your doorstep." Smiling slyly, she chuckled and winked at her two victims. "Remember now, one must never mess with tradition. It's bad karma," and with that, she took one last look at them and then sauntered over to a poor, unsuspecting gentleman.
Lorelai stared after her, mouth hanging open, wide-eyed and amazed at the woman's gall.
"What was that all about?" Luke asked, confused, as usual, by the Stars Hollow antics.
Turning to him, Lorelai said helplessly, "Patty was my Secret Santa."
"Ah." Luke nodded, understanding completely. "Sorry 'bout that."
"Not as sorry as I am, but thanks."
"So what'd she give you?"
"Four dates."
"Ah," Luke uttered, deciding he didn't want details. "Well, you know," he continued, changing the subject. "Since we're talking about Secret Santas…"
"Yes?" Lorelai inquired in a singsong voice. A small smile curved the corners of her lips, and there was a definite gleam in her eye.
"I suppose I should thank you."
"Moi?" Lorelai asked, widening her eyes and holding her open palm to her chest questioningly. "Why, whatever would you have to thank me for, Luke?"
Thanks to years of practice, he somehow managed to keep a straight face during her innocent act. His eyes, however, were dancing. "Bert is grateful for the company," he said simply.
At his words, Lorelai's grin spread all the way across her face. "You loved Ernie, didn't you? I just knew you'd love him. I just about died when I saw that Ernie doll in the carpenter's overalls."
"It gave you away, you know."
"Ah," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Everyone knows Secret Santa's no fun unless you figure out who has you before the big unveiling. I'm actually disappointed you didn't figure it out sooner."
"Well, the flannel shirt could've come from anyone."
"True. Your wardrobe choices are common knowledge around town," Lorelai agreed.
"And the toaster didn't exactly scream 'Lorelai,' especially since Jess liked it even more than I did."
"He did?" Lorelai said, cursing her luck. "I knew I shouldn't have been so thoughtful."
"It was nice of you."
"But now I'll never know if he could've mastered the Boomerang Toast."
"You'll live."
"Uh. I might not, Luke." Lorelai's glowing eyes popped open with indignation. "Promise me you'll keep the old toaster. Please. Pretty please," she begged.
"Why would I keep an old, broken toaster?"
"Because," Lorelai began, looking even more devilish than usual. "It'll make for a great April Fool's joke on Jess."
Luke smiled, encouraging Lorelai to continue. "Can't you just picture his face when he goes to make toast one morning, and it flies back in his face?"
"That would be kind of funny," Luke reluctantly agreed.
"Funny? It'd be priceless, Luke."
"Okay, okay, you win. I'll keep the old toaster."
"Make sure I have a camera with me that day, will ya? A picture's worth a thousand hours of non-stop, ruthless harassment."
Luke made a small, guttural noise that roughly translated to "will do."
"Don't worry. You'll definitely get a copy," she added.
"Me and the rest of the town."
Lorelai smiled. "Okay, so you couldn't figure it out from the flannel or the toaster, but c'mon, Luke, the third gift! I couldn't have been more obvious if I'd written my name on the tag."
"No. I still didn't know."
"Please. I may as well have written 'Luke's Secret Santa' on my forehead in 'Kinky in Helsinki' lipstick!"
"I thought it was Bootsie."
"You thought Bootsie had you?" Lorelai asked with a peal of laughter.
"Believe me, I was grateful when I finally realized it was you," he mumbled.
"I bet you look really cute in that Star Trek shirt. Did you put it on right away?" she prodded. Luke made the mistake of looking at her then, and she falsely interpreted the glance. "You did, didn't you? I bet you stood in front of the mirror and twirled around in circles, watching how it fanned out around you!"
"I take it back. I'd rather be Bootsie's Giftee," he said solemnly.
"Oh, please, you loved it. You're gonna wear it, aren't you? Just like the one you wore when you were a kid."
"I told you," Luke said, adopting his characteristically irritated voice. "I only wore that other shirt to make my aunt happy."
"Did your aunt live here?"
"No."
"Did she follow you wherever you went?"
"Of course not."
"Hmm… interesting," she contemplated. "If your aunt didn't live here or follo–"
"Feel free to stop at any time," Luke interrupted.
"Fine. I'll stop," Lorelai begrudgingly conceded. "But only because it's Christmas Eve, and I feel charitable. Besides, I think I've already proven my point."
Lorelai rocked back and forth on her heels. The paper bag she was carrying rustled as it bounced against her shins. Now that they'd both fallen silent, their eyes were drawn upwards again. As they saw the mistletoe, they emitted simultaneous sighs.
"It's still there," Lorelai stated.
"I see that."
"What do you think the odds are that it'll just miraculously disappear?"
"Not good."
"Right. Are we sure the tradition is what we think it is?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, I'm pretty sure we don't dance a jig."
"Darn. You seem like the type who likes to get jiggy. Think we can change the tradition?"
As embarrassing as it could be to kiss Lorelai, Luke would kiss her a million times before he'd succumb to getting jiggy. "Then it wouldn't be a tradition anymore," he said.
"Right," Lorelai admitted, then a strange look crossed her face. "Oh, I can't believe I almost forgot."
"Forgot what?" Luke asked.
"Your last present," Lorelai said happily.
"Oh no," he groaned.
"Yes, Luke. A Giftee must receive five gifts. I've only given you four."
"'And what is this fifth gift?' he asks, dreading the answer," Luke droned dryly.
"Close your eyes."
"What?" Luke cried, suddenly afraid. "I'm not gonna close my eyes. I won't be able to see what you're doing."
"Yeah, Luke, that's the point! Now, close 'em!" she ordered.
"No way! I can't even begin to imagine what horrible things you'll do if I close my eyes."
"I'll be good, I promise," Lorelai solemnly vowed.
"You think I'm gonna fall for that?"
"C'mon, Luke," she whined. "Close your eyes. Please. If I don't complete the Secret Santa five-gift tradition and give you this gift, I'll be forever cursed with bad karma. You heard Miss Patty."
"Miss Patty is insane."
"True," Lorelai agreed. "But we just don't mess with the powers that be."
"You've been watching too many late night tarot card infomercials."
"Are you gonna close your eyes or what?"
"Fine," Luke consented at last. "But you better not do anything fishy."
"I promise."
Slowly, Luke closed his eyes and waited. He heard Lorelai rustle around in her bag and then felt the heat of her body mere inches away from his. Immediately after that, she insolently plucked his beloved baseball cap off his head, allowing shocking cool air to swirl through his hair. He was just opening his mouth to protest when he felt her place another cap on his head and back away. Luke immediately recognized it was a different cap, so well did he know the feel of his old one.
"Okay, you can open your eyes."
Luke peered at her as he lifted his eyelids. "What did you do?" he asked suspiciously. He reached up to remove the new cap, but she placed a hand on his arm just in time.
"I gave you your last gift."
"What is it?"
"Nope, sorry. Secret Santa Code specifically states that that information can't be revealed. It does look good though," Lorelai approved.
"Do I even want to know what's on this baseball cap?"
"Probably not."
"Great," Luke moaned. He looked longingly at his old cap still clutched in her hand. She saw him looking and hid it in her bag.
"Hey, you're lucky you have that cap, Mister. See, I have this rule," Lorelai explained. "I can't kiss men unless they meet the proper headwear requirements."
"You have requirements that go beyond them just having a head?"
"You're a funny guy, Luke Danes," she answered sarcastically.
He grinned with pride and opened his mouth to respond when the sound of yelling stopped them both cold.
"What is this?" a high-pitched female voice howled.
Lorelai and Luke turned to locate the source of the ruckus and saw Kirk standing with a young, pretty, blonde teenager. She was visibly upset – her face turning various, unflattering shades of red – and she was waving a book in her hands.
"It's your last gift," Kirk said calmly, a contented smile on his face. "I'm your Secret Santa."
"You're my Secret Santa? You're the freak who's been giving me all those weird books?" the girl spat.
"Who is that?" Lorelai asked Luke. "Do you know?"
"I think her name's Shane. She's fairly new in town. Jess mentioned her once."
"Jess?"
"Yeah. She came into the diner one day and was flirting with him."
"Really?" Lorelai asked, intrigued by this interesting development.
Luke could just see the wheels turning in her head. He knew what she was thinking and immediately put a stop to it. "No, no. He ignored her, and she stomped out. I asked about her. Jess said she liked him. I asked if he liked her. He rolled his eyes and said 'No way.' End of discussion."
"Ah," Lorelai replied, somewhat disappointed that Jess hadn't taken the girl up on her offer. She couldn't really think of anything better than some other girl distracting him from Rory. She didn't have time to stew over it, though, because it was at that moment the screaming began again.
"This book is about a prostitute!" Shane yelled. "Why would you give me a book about a prostitute for Christmas?"
"I thought you'd like it," Kirk offered.
"Like it? It's another book! You thought I'd like books?" Shane screamed in annoyance.
"I thought you'd like these books," Kirk replied honestly.
Suddenly understanding what Kirk meant, Shane slammed the gift into his chest. "Stay away from me, Freak!" she ordered before flouncing away angrily.
Kirk turned and watched her go, a look of disappointment on his face. Then he shrugged and sat down on a bench, opening the book himself.
Lorelai shook her head in amazement and turned back to Luke. "See, it could've been worse. Kirk could've been your Secret Santa."
"Good point," Luke agreed, meeting Lorelai's gaze.
Now that there were no more available distractions, an awkward silence lingered in the air.
Finally, Luke spoke. "It's getting late."
"Yes, it is," Lorelai agreed.
"I don't think the mistletoe is gonna go anywhere so we should probably either get this kiss over with or prepare to stand here the rest of our lives."
"I didn't really wear appropriate shoes for a lifetime of standing in one place," Lorelai pointed out.
"And I'm not about to put Jess in charge of the diner."
Another pause.
"So…" Luke pushed. "If you're worried about that karma thing… I mean, personally, I think it's a bunch of baloney cooked up by irrational minds, but whatever you think."
Lorelai sighed again. "Well, I'm not pushing my luck. It's just one kiss, right?"
Luke shrugged. "Right. No big deal."
"It'll only take a second."
"If that," Luke agreed.
"Okay then."
"Okay."
Lorelai took a self-conscious step towards him but without turning her body completely square to his. Through her eyelashes, she peered at him. This is so weird, she thought.
They looked at each other uncomfortably for another moment, and then – finally giving into tradition – they slowly leaned forward to exchange a simple, chaste peck on the lips. But if the kiss was supposed to be so casual, why was Lorelai suddenly developing a serious case of nerves? She didn't have time to consider the reasons, however, because a couple inches more and her lips came into contact with Luke's.
Unexpectedly, they shared, not one, but two innocent kisses, and, in that instant, the rules having already been broken, the third kiss took on a life of its own. Getting caught up in the moment, Lorelai swung towards him and wrapped her arm around his neck, carelessly dropping the bag that had earlier contained his last gift. At the same time, Luke softly, but firmly, placed his hand on her waist.
As Lorelai felt the comfortable warmth of his hand lingering on her for the first time, excited tingles spread like wildfire through every cell of her body. She hadn't felt this way since she was a teenager – caught up in the moment, forgetting about everything else. She realized he was caught up as well when she felt his other hand slide with deliberation from the side of her waist to her shoulder. Invigorated, she pulled Luke's mouth harder against hers, her fingers toying with the delicious strands of hair curling out from under his cap. He reciprocated by deepening the kiss, and she just barely managed to stifle a moan.
She wasn't supposed to feel this way – this was Luke.
Jolting back to reality, she tentatively loosened her grip on Luke's neck and pulled away. She took a second to glance at his eyes and saw a reflection of the same surprise and worry she was feeling. Backing away, she had no idea what to say.
Thankfully, Luke, though still dazed, managed to recover quickly enough to ease the situation. The labored breath he took beforehand, however, did not go unnoticed by Lorelai. Shifting a little, he reached up to remove her gift from his head and then dropped his eyes to look at it. A smile crept across his face as he saw the words, "I ♥ Jimmy Buffett," written across the front.
"Funny," he said sarcastically, glancing back up at her.
"It is, isn't it?" Lorelai said awkwardly, returning his smile. Her heart was still fluttering.
"Well, I should probably get back to the diner." Luke gulped. "There's probably a line of customers demanding post-party coffee."
"Yeah, me too. Well, I mean, not to the diner but away. I should go away. I mean, home. I should go home."
"Right. Well, thank you for this," Luke said, holding up the hat. Bashfully, his eyes fell to the gazebo floor and to the bag she'd dropped earlier. He fumbled slightly as he picked the bag up. "And for the other gifts."
"It was my pleasure," Lorelai replied warmly. "Thank you for…" She paused, not sure what she was saying. "Um… for… you know…"
"Sure," Luke saved her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'll need my coffee fix."
"Okay. Merry Christmas, Lorelai."
"Merry Christmas, Luke."
They both reeled around and took off down opposite gazebo stairs.
***
Gazing at his reflection in a red Christmas bulb that adorned the traditional Stars Hollow tree, Dean shuddered in revulsion. He'd been trying for a while now to forget about his encounter with Miss Patty, but it just kept creeping its way back into his thoughts. After Dean had revealed himself as Miss Patty's Secret Santa, she had practically leapt into his arms, wrapping him enthusiastically in her own. It had happened so fast that, Dean couldn't be sure, but he thought that, in the process, she had also let her hand drop to his butt. Thankfully, Lorelai had stepped in then, and, since Lorelai was apparently of more interest to Miss Patty than Dean was, he had been freed.
He'd immediately bolted down the gazebo stairs and high-tailed it across the lawn, aiming to get lost within the crowd surrounding the Christmas tree. He'd hoped the distance would ease his disturbed mind. No such luck.
Now, finally giving up and turning away from the tree, he was about to go in search of Rory when he heard the voice of his sister calling out to him from behind. The sound of the familiar voice relaxed him and finally removed from his mind the troubling image of Miss Patty's hand on his ass.
"What is it, Clara?" Dean asked as he stopped and turned to face her.
"Your Secret Santa told me to give you this," she uttered in her sweet high-pitched voice.
"My Secret Santa, huh," Dean smiled knowingly. Rory was really pulling out all the stops, sending his sister as a messenger.
"Yeah," Clara said, her face not mirroring any of the amusement Dean's expressed. Clara, Dean realized, was too young to appreciate the love between him and Rory. Clara handed him a simple envelope and headed back over to where her friends were congregating.
As soon as he was alone, Dean pulled a note and a ticket from the envelope. The ticket was for The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers for the following week. Dean smiled. And here, all this time, he'd thought Rory hadn't wanted to see that movie. Turns out, she had just wanted to surprise him with a ticket.
Dean turned to the note. It read:
"I bought two tickets for a special night out, and I can't wait to share this experience with you. Come find the matching ticket at the Stars Hollow Theatre. There, you will also find me."
Dean chuckled. No wonder Rory had wanted to come to the party separately. She wasn't at the party at all! She was waiting for him at the theatre. Dean took a moment to ponder his good fortune. He held the note a little closer to his chest and looked up with a grin. The lanterns, all around the square, bounced off the twinkle in his eyes.
Dean nearly skipped as he headed across the snowy expanse of the town square. He was heading towards the movie theatre. He was heading towards love.
Yup, he thought as he strode across the lawn, the snow softly crunching under his footfalls. Things are definitely looking up. Recently, Dean had thought maybe Rory was starting to develop feelings for Jess Mariano. When Jess bought her basket and she had insisted on going off with him, Dean had felt sure of it. Certainly, she had given him plenty of other indications that she liked Jess as well.
But now he realized that her intent had really been to follow the rules, to be polite. She really did love Dean only. Her recent gifts, having been consistently enthusiastic, were proof of that. Rory was acting more devoted, and by far more romantic, than she had in a long while. Perhaps more than she had ever been before. I guess I was wrong to doubt her.
As Dean neared the corner, leaving the boisterous music and laughter of the party behind him, he upgraded his gait to a joyous trot. The buildings on each side of the street seemed to hold in the warmth and glow of the night air, and the powdery snow, illuminated by the streetlights, cushioned all sound. The entire town was at the square and, here, all was silent and magical.
Dean couldn't wait to turn the corner onto Grove Street. He couldn't wait to get to the theatre and see Rory. He was glad she'd chosen a private locale. It would be so romantic to share this pristine moment with her alone.
When he saw her, at first, he would pretend to be surprised to find her there. But then he'd sweep her up in his arms. His kiss would let her know, without a doubt, that her gifts had renewed his faith in her and that he had fallen in love with her all over again.
Finally, he reached the corner. The theatre, with all its small-town charm, was only about two doors away. Grasping the pole on the corner façade of the drugstore, he leapt and swung his body around it. But when his feet hit the sidewalk again on the other side of the pole, he skidded to a stop. He blinked as his eyes came to alight, not on the familiar dark-haired beauty of Rory, but on the sight of blond hair glistening under the streetlights as brightly as the snow all around them – by the sight of a light brown, woolen coat that was not Rory's, enveloping an attractive, lithe body.
His Secret Santa was not Rory after all, he noted, but he was too shocked for his brain to register any sense of disappointment. Dean knew this girl. She went to the same school as he did, and, in fact, he'd noticed her around a few times. Every time she'd caught his eye, she'd smiled warmly at him, and, truth be told, although he'd never given the glances much thought, deep down, he had always kind of sensed she liked him. The knowledge had always been flattering.
She must have heard his footsteps crunching to a stop because she turned to face him then, and her face lit up in a charming, shy smile. The intent of his pounding heart was instantly shifted from excitement at the thought of seeing Rory to a nervous but pleased flutter at the thought of the unknown. He felt like he was dreaming. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to be noticing the beauty of this girl who was not his girlfriend.
"Linda," he said as he inched his way towards her, and, at the sound of his voice, her smile lit up even more.
"Hi, Dean," she spoke shyly, her eyes ducking down briefly. By the time she looked up again, her eyes focusing on his face, he had stepped up to her. He was struck by how blue her eyes were. Not the faded icy blue-grey of Rory's but a bluer blue. A blue that was so beautiful, it startled him. Blue eyes that somehow held him in a higher esteem than Rory's ever had.
Dean took a deep breath as the two of them stood beside the empty ticket booth under the marquee of the Stars Hollow Theatre. "So, you're the one who's been giving me all those presents?"
"Yeah. I hope you liked them."
Dean smiled as a feeling of calm overcame him. "Yeah, I did." Dean thought back to the gifts he'd received. He'd liked the gifts so much, he'd fallen in love with the gift-giver. Or, at least, so he'd thought. Had that been Linda's intention all along?
***
That night, Rory padded tiredly into her mother's darkened room and climbed up on the bed. Rory had returned from the party first, and, needing time to think about what had happened with Jess, she'd gone straight to bed. An hour later, she'd heard her mother walk through the front door and head straight upstairs to her own room. Rory had tossed and turned for a while, but she could not fall asleep. She needed to talk to her mom.
"Mom?" she whispered, feeling a little guilty about waking her up.
"Hey, Hun," Lorelai mumbled, not sounding nearly as groggy as Rory had expected.
"I'm sorry to wake you."
"Trust me, you didn't. Come here." Lorelai scooted over to the left side of the bed and lifted the blanket up so Rory could crawl under it. Rory snuggled down; the blankets were warm and cozy, unlike the frigid night air that engulfed the rest of the room. She began to relax, already feeling a little bit better.
"So what's up?" Lorelai asked once Rory was comfortably situated.
"Nothing," Rory lied. "I just couldn't sleep so I felt like talking to you."
"Mm… what about?" Lorelai could tell that Rory was beating around the bush. She was too tired to push the issue though; she knew, when Rory was ready, she'd tell her whatever she needed to say.
"I dunno."
"Well, this was fun," Lorelai joked. "Thanks for the deep discussion."
Rory sighed. She couldn't see her mother's face in the darkness, but she could picture the amused expression perfectly. "Well…" Rory began. "You never told me about your fourth date."
"You came in here at…" Lorelai paused as she looked at the bedside clock. "1:07 in the morning to ask me to relive one of my many painful dates, courtesy of Miss Patty?"
"I need a distraction," Rory said honestly. Her remark piqued Lorelai's interest, but she decided to let it slide.
"All right, just for you, I'll relive it, but I expect some sort of compensation in the future."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Lucky Bachelor #4 was Stanley. He took me to that new French restaurant in Hartford – the one my mother was raving about last Friday."
"Right," Rory acknowledged. "Big spender."
"You're not kidding! Appetizers there cost more than a year's worth of Harvard tuition. Anyway, we ordered our incredibly expensive drinks while waiting for our even more incredibly expensive dinner to arrive. He was talking about his job."
"What does Stanley do?" Rory interjected.
Lorelai was quiet for a moment, and then she said, as if surprised, "You know what? I don't even know. I was a little distracted. You'll know why in a second."
"Ooh, intrigue."
"So we were sitting there, and Stanley was talking so I was looking at him attentively, of course."
"Of course."
"And, all of a sudden, I started wondering if it was getting darker in the restaurant 'cause there seemed to be this shadow falling across his face."
"Spooky," Rory remarked.
"At first, I tried to ignore it, but the more time that went by, the more I noticed the shadow – this very splotchy shadow. It was bizarre. It was darker across his cheeks, but yet, around his eyes, it wasn't dark at all. I couldn't figure out where the light and shadow were coming from. And then, when the shadow got a little darker, I realized."
"He's half-human, half-raccoon, isn't he?"
"I wish," Lorelai muttered. "But no. He'd put self-tanning lotion on his face, and it was just starting to appear. And he'd done a really bad job of it too. Now I ask you, my darling daughter and future student of Harvard, what kinda moron uses self-tanning lotion right before going out on a date?"
"Aw, Mom, he just wanted to impress you with his good looks," Rory cheekily replied.
"Well, he did make an impression. I definitely couldn't tear my eyes away from him; that's for sure. He was talking and trying to engage me in conversation, but I couldn't complete a thought because, every time I looked at that face, I had to stop myself from laughing."
"That's awful."
"Dinner was good though."
"Just goes to show that expensive dinners can't buy love," Rory pointed out sagely. Then, a thought occurring to her, she asked seriously, "Hey, do you think that Stanley tried to fake-bake because he knew we'd need a funny nickname for him? Bad-Tan Stan! It even rhymes."
"Well, if I'd known he was only trying to be considerate, I'd have agreed to the second date," Lorelai joked.
"Poor Bad-Tan. Someday, a woman will appreciate his efforts."
"Thank God that woman will not be me!"
"Well, I know these dates haven't exactly been love connections, but I firmly believe you have a Prince Charming out there," Rory assured her mother. "He's probably trying on coloured wigs or women's pantyhose as we speak."
"Ah! Evil spawn!" Lorelai accused. She grabbed the blankets off Rory, exposing her Mr. Peanut pyjama-clad body to the frigid air yet again.
"Hey, brr! It's too cold! Give 'em back!"
"No way!"
"Mom! Please! I'll report you to child services."
"They'll take my side on this."
"Mom, I'm starting to shiver."
"Baby!" Lorelai heckled as she put the covers back on Rory.
"I'm sorry," Rory apologized. "I shouldn't have said that. After all, you and I both know that your Prince Charming prefers knee-high fishnets."
"Be careful, Child. I have a pillow, and I know how to use it."
"Okay, okay," Rory said, smiling. They both fell silent.
Lorelai's tale of woe had briefly distracted Rory from her own romantic entanglements, but now that it was quiet again, her thoughts turned back to Jess. After a few minutes, Rory gathered up her courage and said quietly, "Mom, can I ask you something?"
"Yes," Lorelai stated in playful exasperation, answering a question of her own creation. "I agree. Joan and Melissa did rob Halle Berry when they gave Jennifer Lopez the Golden Hanger Award this year. I mean, c'mon, Jennifer Lopez? Both Halle and Nicole were so much more deserving."
Rory smiled. "I wholeheartedly agree… but that wasn't my question."
"Oh, sorry. Go on."
Rory took a deep breath. "Well, you know how you suggested before that maybe I was falling for Jess?"
"Yeah," came the wary response. Rory was finally getting to the point of this little bedtime chat. I guess the bush has been thoroughly beaten, Lorelai thought, not particularly liking the direction the conversation was taking.
"Well, I need to know what you would think about it if I were."
"Falling for Jess?"
"Yeah," Rory answered softly.
Lorelai sighed and resigned herself to fate. She leaned back into the pillow. "Well, it would take some getting used to. But I guess I didn't like the idea of you going out with Dean at first either."
"But do you think that it would be OK?" Rory pushed.
"You know how I feel about Jess; I trust him about as far as I can throw him. But you, my child, are lighter, and I can throw you farther so I trust you."
"So it would be all right with you?"
"Well, I don't know about that, but unfortunately, it's not my decision. I know you won't make the same mistakes I did, but a mother worries all the same." She hesitated before asking, "So have you fallen for Jess?"
"I don't know," Rory replied pensively. But inside, Rory's feelings had taken on a definite direction, and she suddenly wasn't quite as worried anymore. In fact, now that she'd talked to her mom about the whole thing, her eyes were starting to droop closed. As she started to fall asleep, she heard her mother's voice off in the distance muttering grumpily, "Those Danes men and the havoc they wreak."
Rory lifted her heavy eyelids and tried to peer in her mother's direction. "What did you say?" she murmured.
"Nothing. G'night."
Lorelai soon heard Rory's breathing become steady with slumber. She, however, was still wide-awake and confused.
***
Luke had come home late from the Christmas Eve party in Town Square – a fact which, Jess had to admit, was very unusual. For starters, Luke wasn't exactly a festive person. But also, any event organized by their nemesis, Taylor Doose, would ordinarily send the man rushing home early, not strolling home late. Jess himself had only spent a few minutes at the party; he'd snuck away before Taylor could begin the opening remarks.
Now, Luke had been sitting on the couch for the last half-hour, slowly sipping a hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows. Actually, Jess surmised, looking at the cup. It's probably cold by now. There was a content, dopey smile playing on Luke's lips. His eyes were dazed, seemingly not seeing the wall to which he'd been allotting a good deal of his attention. Jess wondered what the hell Luke was thinking about.
Finally, Jess got tired of watching Luke's disturbing behaviour. He went into his room and retrieved a package. "Here. I got you something," Jess said casually as he came up behind the sofa and handed Luke a medium-sized, flat box.
"Oh! Thanks, Jess," Luke uttered, startled. Either Luke was surprised to receive a gift from Jess or he was surprised to hear another voice, besides the crazy ones yammering inside his head – or maybe both. "You didn't need to do that."
"Believe me, I did. Open it."
Luke tore the wrapping paper off the box and lifted the lid. Inside was an outdoorsy, grey knit sweater. "Hey, Jess! This is really nice."
"Yeah, well, the point is, it's not flannel."
Luke chuckled. "Thanks, I think."
Jess nodded, then walked around and sat down on the cushion at the far end of the couch. He leaned back and crossed his ankles, resting them on the coffee table.
"I got you something too, Jess. Hang on, I'll get it." Luke placed his mug on the table and stalked over to his own room. Jess followed him with his eyes, somewhat taken aback by the fact that Luke got him a gift. His own mother hadn't given him a gift in three years. On the way back, Luke apologized for not having wrapped it yet. He placed the box in Jess's hands.
"You got me a car CD stereo?" Jess asked, disbelieving but excited.
"Yeah," Luke stated, his voice taking on the tone of a father proud of his son's initiative. "You've been putting in a lot of effort fixing up that old car of yours. You deserved something nice." Luke sat back down on the couch, sinking into the cushion in complete comfort.
"Thanks, Luke," Jess enthused, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "This is awesome." Jess shook his head in happy disbelief.
"It beats the AM dial."
"That it does," Jess agreed.
"Plus, this way," Luke went on. "When you're cranking up the shrieking sounds of 'Twelve Foot Railroad Ties,' I can kick you out of the apartment, and you can go listen to it somewhere else."
"'Twelve Foot Railroad Ties', Luke?" Jess laughed. "Do you perhaps mean 'Nine Inch Nails'?"
"Whatever it is you teenagers are listening to," Luke chuckled calmly in response.
"Hey," Jess began. He was fully enjoying the evening. His kiss with Rory earlier, the tremendous gift, and now this moment of familial comfort with his uncle – all these added up to a strangely perfect night. "Sorry 'bout tackling you to the ground the other day."
"S'ok. Didn't hurt."
"It totally hurt you, Old Man," Jess teased. Luke laughed it off.
"So who did you write that poem for, anyway?" Luke asked, deciding to push his luck.
Jess looked at his uncle, hesitating, not sure if he should tell him the truth. But, almost of its own free will, his mouth relaxed into a smile, and he heard himself say calmly, "Rory."
"Mmmm," Luke nodded. "She's a nice girl."
***
Dean lay awake on Christmas Eve. He knew Clara would be dragging him out of bed at the crack of dawn to open presents, and he'd likely be exhausted tomorrow, but try as he might, he could not fall asleep. He just kept thinking about Rory… and Linda.
Two Towers had been playing at the theatres for a few days now, and he had tried unsuccessfully numerous times to make Rory as excited for the cinematic event as he was. He would have been extremely disappointed by her lacklustre response, had he not already been so busy preparing for Christmas.
But the fact remained that Dean wanted to see the movie, and Rory didn't. He'd heard what she'd said on the phone. In her opinion, the first movie hadn't lived up to the legacy of the first book, and she didn't want to spoil the second book as well.
Really, when Dean thought about it, his preference for movies and hers for books was only one manifestation of a far more widespread, underlying lack of mutual interests. He preferred Battle Bots to ballroom dancing. She preferred Socrates to soccer. And lately, since Jess had moved to town, she'd preferred to completely ignore Dean rather than give or receive anything romantic from him.
He'd built her a car. When he'd thought the Secret Santa gifts were coming from her, he'd believed that she'd finally shown herself to be a kindred spirit. But, in reality, she'd made no such leaps of romantic faith towards him.
And now, Linda, a girl to whom he'd only ever given the briefest of attention, had already proven she had more in common with Dean than Rory did.
Linda had told him tonight that, if he wanted, she would give him both tickets to Two Towers, and he could take anyone he liked. Now, Dean reminded himself that Rory didn't even want to see the movie. Really, it made much more sense to take Linda, a girl who was as excited to see it as he was. Right?
***
Please review and tune in for more on December 23, 2002.
This story is a collaborative effort between MahliaLily ( http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=288788 ) and CircleSky.