Please note that chapter 15 is Rated 'R'. It's nothing super graphic, but I'm being safe and taking precautions. And now I sound like one of those Human Ed. classes in middle school.
Ooh baby. Doesn't that put you in the mood? *g*
* * *
Chapter 15
* * *
Okay, so maybe she'd over reacted a little bit, Lorelai
thought to herself as she finished up her work at the
That was what her rational side was telling her. The rest of her was still fairly pissed that Luke wasn't happy that everyone thought he was sleeping with her. She was hot! He should be grateful.
She wished the day would go by faster. The sooner she could get out of there, the sooner she could go to the festival, which would definitely cheer her up. Michel chose that moment to walk through the door. "I've never been so glad to see you," Lorelai greeted.
"Though it sounded like a compliment, I am aware that you are only saying it because you want to go to your silly festival and stuff your face full of every fat-filled food you can find." He took his place behind the desk.
"No, really I mean it. I'm glad to see you because I looove you, Michel." She put her good arm around him. He picked it off like it was lint.
"I think you have taken too many of your pills."
Lorelai grabbed her purse and gave him a goodbye wave. "Thanks for working the night shift. I'll let you have Bastille Day off this year."
"You are too kind."
Lorelai ignored his sarcasm and poked her head into the kitchen. "Hey Sookie, you ready to go?"
Sookie turned away from the stove. "Ready. Let's go
celebrate our independence." She giggled. "Our independence….only it's away
from the
Lorelai cut her off before she could make even less sense. "Okay, no more cooking sherry for you. Grab your keys, let's get out of here."
Sookie drove Lorelai back to her house. They talked about various things, until Sookie brought up Luke.
"Did you convince him to come to the festival this year? Tell him there's some extra space on your blanket?"
"No. You were at the meeting last night, you witnessed the Lorelai-is-icky speech he delivered."
Sookie sighed. "Lorelai, I love you, but you're stupid." Lorelai opened her mouth to protest, but Sookie held up her hand, telling her to wait while she explained. "Luke doesn't like people bothering him. He doesn't like people prying into his life. But what he really, really doesn't like is people uncovering his secrets. And his biggest secret is that he totally loves you. He's only denying it so much because he's afraid his secret will get out. Of course, he's not aware that everyone's known his secret for years."
They pulled into Lorelai's driveway. "So, maybe I was a little too harsh on him?" Lorelai asked.
Sookie gave her a sympathetic smile. "Just a little." They pulled into Lorelai's driveway.
Lorelai opened the door and got out of the car. Sookie waved and said she'd see her later, then drove away. Lorelai walked up to her front door, the chuppa mocking her from the front lawn. Maybe she had been too hard on Luke. She smiled when she thought of a good way to make it up to him.
* * *
"May I salute the flag?" Kirk asked when Lorelai made her appearance at the festival.
Lorelai smirked. "Only if you don't touch the flag," she warned him. Kirk nodded, and saluted her chest, then continued on his way to the food. Lorelai spotted Sookie and Jackson sitting on a blanket near the gazebo, and headed over to join them.
"I don't think that's what Betsy Ross intended the flag to look like," Sookie greeted her.
Lorelai was wearing a tube top with an American flag print. It was tight, small, and looked like she stole it off Britney Spears. She sat down, groaning. She also had on her lowest cut, tightest pair of jeans. "I was in a patriotic spirit," Lorelai explained.
"Are you sure it wasn't an 'entice the local diner man' spirit?" Sookie questioned with a knowing grin.
"You're hitting on Luke?"
"I'm not hitting on Luke," Lorelai denied, "I just wanted to look my best for my country."
"We'll let that one slide," Sookie said.
"So, um, you haven't seen him, have you?" Lorelai asked.
"Seen who?"
"You know." Lorelai glowered.
"I'm sorry honey, you'll have to be more specific," Sookie said, teasing.
Lorelai frowned. "You two suck," she said, and got up.
"Tell Luke we say hi,"
They looked up to see Kirk standing above them. "People are trying to eat," he said, then walked away.
* * *
Lorelai spent the next two hours consuming as many hamburgers as she could, since Luke wasn't around to point out how high in cholesterol they were. The festival itself wasn't bad, but without Rory there, she just wasn't enjoying it like she normally did. People were picnicking in the square on the barbeque food, the multitude of deserts, and enjoying the company of their loved ones.
Lorelai was sitting on a bench watching them all with envy. She pulled the cell phone from her purse and dialed Rory's D.C. number.
"Thank god you're there," she said when Rory answered the
phone.
"And hello to you too," Rory replied.
"I've never realized how lame this festival is without you here," Lorelai told her.
Rory smiled. "Aw, it's so nice to be missed. It's a good thing you caught me; Paris and I were going to watch the fireworks by the Capital."
"Just stay away from lechery congressmen."
"Will do." Rory waited for her mom to say something else, but got silence instead. Which meant only one thing. "Mom, what is it?"
"What's what?"
"What is it that you want to tell me, but can't bring yourself to tell me, so you're sitting there picking imaginary lint off your shirt while you think of a way to bring it up?"
Lorelai's hand dropped away from her shirt. Damn kid. "Well, there's a lot of things, but mostly just one question. Will you really, truly, beyond a shadow of a doubt be okay with Luke and I getting together?"
"Did something happen?"
"Yes and no. So just please, Rory, answer me truthfully. Because if you think it's a bad idea, I won't let it happen."
There was barely a pause before Rory answered. "I don't think it's a bad idea."
"This isn't Jeopardy, sweetie. You can take a few seconds to think about it if you want."
"Luke's always been there for both of us, as long as I can remember. More than Dad, and you were ready to start something with him before he found out about Sherry."
"Thank you so much for reminding me about that."
"Hey," she heard from behind. She tried to hide the smile that crept up on her lips. Luke was standing behind the bench, a cup of coffee in his hand.
Rory must have heard him over the phone. "I'll let you two be alone."
Lorelai said goodbye to her daughter, ended the call and turned around to face Luke. "Hey yourself."
"Walk with me," he said, and handed her the coffee.
She stood up, and they slowly walked down the path, narrowly avoiding the kids running with sparklers. Maybe Luke did have a point about that, she thought.
Lorelai took a deep, fortifying gulp of coffee. "I'm sorry," she said, and hoped she wouldn't have to say much more.
Luke shook his head. "It's okay. I'm sorry too. It didn't even occur to me that it would be insulting you."
Lorelai smiled up at him. "This you and me fighting thing is really getting old."
"Tell me about it."
She stuck her cast hand out. "No more fighting?"
He shook her hand. "No more fighting."
"Now you gotta spit to seal the deal."
Luke looked appalled. "I'm not spitting."
"It's not like you're spitting on food, we're outside. Look, I'll go first." Lorelai spit on the ground.
"Such a charmer," Luke grumbled.
"C'mon," Lorelai taunted, "pretend you're a baseball player."
Luke sighed. "I was a baseball player." He spit to prove it.
"See, that wasn't so bad."
"Actually, I think the spit-deal is done by spitting in our palms, then shaking."
"I know, but that's gross."
They continued walking. Neither was aware that they were still holding hands.
"I like how you went with the red flannel today. Very patriotic." Lorelai said, when the silence started to grow.
"Yeah, well," Luke looked her up and down, taking in the
tiny tube top she had on, "God bless
Their walk had taken them away from the main square, near the bridge where the trees were thicker. The sounds of the festival were muted, the music tinny and far away. The sun had started to set, painting the horizon in glorious shades of pink, purple, and red. The fireworks would be starting soon.
"So, I've got a little extra space on my blanket," Lorelai started, "you can share it if you want. For the fireworks."
"Nah, that's okay," Luke answered. "I've got my own place."
"Oh." Lorelai tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, failing miserably. Luke smirked.
"You can join me, though, if you want," he offered.
"But you've never come out to see them. Not once in the entire time I've lived here have I seen you out watching them."
Luke shrugged. "I don't like watching them from the square. Too many people, talking and ruining it."
"Has anyone told you that you're antisocial?"
"No, never," he sarcastically answered. They crossed over the bridge, which reminded Luke that he still owed Jess a few dunkings, and followed the path as it circled back toward the square.
"Ooh, firefly!" Lorelai pointed out as she saw the luminescent insect cross their path.
"I thought they were lightning bugs."
"I think they're both," she conceded, watching it as it flew along. She wasn't much into nature, but sometimes it could be pretty cool. Something Sookie said jumped out of her memory. "Hey, Luke, are you by any chance in Greenpeace?"
Luke looked at her a little strangely, since the question seemed to come from nowhere. "Uh, no."
Lorelai nodded. "Good." No chance he'd be meeting any tree-hugging potential girlfriends anytime soon.
"I've got a membership in the Sierra Club," he told her. Lorelai felt the butterflies returning to her stomach. "That's actually where I met Rachel," he confided. "She was taking pictures for them for a deforestation issue." Lorelai felt like the butterflies had grown legs and were kicking her.
"Oh, swell," she said, her enthusiasm severely lacking. They walked in quiet for a few minutes, watching the fireflies dart around in the warm air. It was muggy, and she hoped it wouldn't rain during the fireworks. A lock of hair fell in her eyes, and she lifted the hand not holding the coffee up to brush it away. That's when she finally realized she and Luke had been holding hands the whole time.
"Hey, look at that," she said, indicating their hands. Luke looked surprised too. "If we were Amish, this would be third base."
"Sorry," Luke quickly apologized, and let go of her hand. Lorelai rolled her eyes.
"We aren't Amish," she admonished, and reached for his hand. Luke felt her fingers wrap around his; his body tingled in response. He told himself to calm down, it wasn't like they were in sixth-grade where holding hands was a big deal. Although with kids these days, the sixth-graders were probably having more sex than he was.
She could feel him tensing up next to her. "So, where's this secret place where you watch the fireworks?" she asked, hoping to distract him.
"It's not a secret."
"Well, I don't know where it is, so it's a secret to me."
He tugged on her hand. "I'll show you. But don't get all
excited and go thinking it's someplace special, or a hidden lair, or the
"Okay, this place is definitely not a secret," Lorelai said as he unlocked the door.
"I told you it wasn't." He let her in, and nodded to the stairs.
Lorelai was nervous, and when she was nervous, she often used humor to cover it up. "Hmm. You're gesturing for me to go upstairs. To experience the fireworks. And your bed is upstairs. Apparently, you think very highly of yourself."
Luke blushed, and Lorelai kept the satisfactory grin from spreading very far. She liked getting to him. "Just get up there," he told her.
"How can I resist such sweet talk?" she cooed, and headed up the stairs. Instead of going to the door to his apartment, Luke walked to the end of the hallway and opened another door. There was a narrow flight of stairs.
"Ah, the roof! I've discovered your secret!" Lorelai excitedly said.
"Yeah, you're quite the mastermind."
"Evil mastermind. It sounds much cooler."
They climbed the stairs, and Luke opened the door. The roof
was about twenty feet above street level, and gave them a nice view of the
town. The sounds of the festival could be heard clearly; Lane was currently
playing John Fogherty's 'Fortunate Son.' She'd had an
Lorelai whistled. "This is some sweet set up you've got here." She walked to the edge of the roof to get a better view of the square and its arrangement of red, white, and blue lights.
Luke, not really a guy who liked danger, wished she wouldn't stand so close to the edge. "We can sit over here," he said, hoping she'd move away. She did, and saw Luke had laid out a blanket over the large rectangular housing that covered the air conditioning unit.
Lorelai sat down and Luke joined her. There was a small cooler on the ground, and he reached for it. He handed her a soda, and grabbed himself a beer.
"You're supposed to get the girl drunk," Lorelai informed him, looking at her soda. "You're not very good at this."
"And you're not supposed to mix alcohol and pain killers."
"You're worse than my mom," Lorelai told him, popping the top of her soda.
Luke really didn't know what to say to that, so he kept quiet and wished the damn fireworks would start already. His plan- if it could even be called that- had been to tell her how he felt about her once and for all, because if they kept slinging sexual innuendos back and forth he would go crazy. He also realized how close he'd come to losing any chance with her at Sookie's wedding. If Christopher's girlfriend hadn't been so fertile, Lorelai might just be a memory, instead of sitting next to him on his roof.
"Hey, if you had balloons, we could fill them with water and toss them at people. People like Kirk, and Taylor, and Bootsy," Lorelai suddenly suggested.
Luke grinned. It wasn't a terrible idea. "I'll have to remember to add balloons the next time I place an order for the diner."
"Ooh! And you could order them so that they say 'Al's Pancake World,' thereby placing the blame on Al and we get off scott free!"
"Do you love Christopher?"
Lorelai froze. "Talk about your lack of segueway."
Luke picked at the label on his beer. "Sorry. I just…I need to know."
There was a moment when she wanted to ask why, just to hear him come out and say it. But she knew Luke; the tiny admission had been very hard for him. She tried to choose her words carefully. "Of course I love him. I always will." She sneaked a glance at Luke. He looked like he had appendicitis. "But I'm not in love with him. Anymore," she amended. "You heard about what happened at Sookie's wedding?" He nodded. "It took me a while to realize it, but that was actually a good thing. Because I was very hurt at first. But I wasn't heartbroken. Am I making sense?"
"Yeah."
Luke had attempted to be bold; she felt she'd return the favor. "What hurt me more was you."
He had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry about that."
"It wasn't completely your fault. Some of it definitely was. But you have always been there for me, and for Rory, and you've never done anything to hurt us, and I should have recognized that instead of immediately harping on you. I know we've supposedly made up, but I want to say how sorry I am again." She took a breath, feeling the heavy weight of her words. After an interminable silence, she felt the need to fill it with more words. "And I want to say that someone should tell Lane that "Bullet the Blue Sky" is not the cheeriest America-themed song one could pick for-"
"I was selfish," Luke said suddenly, cutting off her silence-filling babble. The beer label had been peeled off and he was in the process of shredding it. "At first, I wanted to hurt you, because you'd hurt me. Then after I saw that I did hurt you, I had this stupid thought that you'd just end up hurting me again."
"So that's why you went all Mean Luke."
"Yeah." He finished his beer and tossed it in the cooler, taking his frustration out. "I told you it's stupid."
They sat there in mopey silence for a few minutes. "Hey, here's a great idea, let's not talk about this anymore!" Lorelai said with false excitement.
"Good."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, although the longer she sat next to him, the less comfortable Luke became. She smelled so good, and her skimpy top was driving him crazy. He wanted to touch her, run his fingers over her shoulders and arms. Push her down on the blanket and make love to her in the warm summer night.
Lorelai was having similar problems. She'd been dying to see what he looked like without a shirt, and the night he'd fallen asleep on her couch had only increased her curiosity. She tried all the little signals; her knee brushing his, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
A familiar guitar riff carried through the night air up to the roof of the diner. An idea came to Lorelai.
"I love this song," she said, standing up and stretching out.
"It's not bad."
"You love it," she corrected. She shook her hips to the music.
Luke smirked. "It's getting better."
Lorelai smiled back and danced harder. Luke watched every twitch of her hips, every slither of her arms. He had no idea what she had in mind, but as long as she kept moving her body like that, he didn't care.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her hair flying around her face. She winked. Luke suddenly felt uncomfortable; he knew she had something wicked planned. She ran her right hand up her left shoulder, then skimmed it down over her chest.
The blood completely rushed out of his brain at that point. She was…no, she couldn't be. He was imagining this.
Luke looked horny and confused. She liked it. "I owe you a lap dance," she explained, moving closer to him, the bass line of 'American Woman' beating almost in sync with her heart.
"That was…I thought…just a joke, you don't," his words hitched as Lorelai's hand slid under the bottom of her tube top and lifted the hem higher, "have to," he finished, without conviction.
"Don't have to," Lorelai said, her hips swaying a languid circle, "want to."
"Well, if you want to," he conceded.
Lorelai came closer. "You want it too."
"Not arguing," he managed to say, which wasn't bad considering his brain was getting no blood. She was inches away from him now, her hips still gyrating, her eyes locking on to his. His hand reached out to circle her waist, pulling her closer. She straddled him, her knees on each side of his legs. His fingers slid over her skin with the slightest pressure. The night was warm, but her skin was hotter. He couldn't help it; he bent his head and kissed her exposed stomach. It sent the last of her reservations flying.
Her hand cupped his face, her fingers rasping over the ever present stubble. She pulled his head up, firmly but gently, until his eyes connected with hers. It had to be there, she swore to herself. If it wasn't there, she'd stop. Her heart hammered in her chest even faster, afraid she wouldn't see it.
His eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, she could tell, even in the dim light. The way he looked up at her, the way fear and desire and hope desperately clashed against each other in an attempt to be the emotion that was in control, the way his eyes never broke their gaze because he didn't even realize he was staring; all of this came together in that moment, and she saw it. She wanted to laugh and cry, but mostly, she wanted to kiss him.
She lowered herself until she was sitting in his lap, eye level with him. His arousal was more than evident, and his chest pressed against hers with every shaky, hitching breath he took. One of them would break soon. One of them would be the first to gather their courage.
Neither of them wanted to be the one.
Lorelai was uncharacteristically reserved. It was a big step for her; it felt even bigger than when she'd decided to accept Max's proposal.
Luke was afraid. If he made the wrong move, if he made any move, she might fully understand the implications and run. She wasn't a stranger to running; he wasn't familiar with chasing.
It could have stayed at that stalemate forever; as it was, neither was sure how long they'd sat there, chest to chest, his hands pressing her to him, her hands keeping him in her sight. 'American Woman' was no longer riding on the warm summer breeze, and the noise of the crowd had quieted to a hush. If they'd been aware of anything but each other, they might have been prepared for it. The loud booming noise shocked them out of their silent reverie, closing the remaining distance between them.
Ten years. Ten years ago she had walked into his diner. Now, they were on the roof of it, and her lips were on his. They were softer than the skin under his fingertips, and sweeter than any pie or pastry he'd ever served her. Just like her, they were demanding, unyielding, and he gave in.
His tongue swept over her bottom lip, her moan allowing entrance. She matched him stroke for stroke, giving as good as she got, just like always. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. He should have been prepared for the feelings that threatened to overtake him, since he'd been picturing this moment for years, but he wasn't.
He couldn't breathe. With a last, regretful slide of his tongue against hers, and a quick nibble on her lip that let her know this was nowhere near over, he pulled away. His lungs sucked in the warm, summer night air. The smell of smoke was heavy in it. He opened his eyes, tilting his head back so he could see her. A halo of red and blue sparkled behind her, the explosion backlighting her so that her face was dark. The sparks twinkled and faded, dying before they fell to earth.
He could see her again. Her face was flushed, her mouth open, her breathing heavy. She smiled. He smiled back.
"We're missing the fireworks," she managed to say.
"I don't care," he managed to answer, before he kissed her again. His hand slid down her back, under the waistband of her jeans, pressing her hard against him. She groaned at the increased friction, her fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck and clenching hard, as if she was afraid she'd fall if she didn't hold onto him tight enough.
She pulled so hard on his hair it hurt, but she distracted him from the pain with her needy kiss, and made him forget all about it when she rocked her hips against his.
"Lorelai," he whispered, and she was hot all over. His hands were burning her every place they touched, the small of her back, her shoulder, her neck, her breast. The night was hot, the breeze blowing warm, and she could feel each bead of sweat as it rolled from the back of her neck down her spinal column.
He was wearing flannel, she thought, and had to be sweating more than her. She broke the kiss to pull his shirt off his shoulders. He helped her, and the moment his arms were free again, he reached up and pulled her face back down to his.
His baseball hat. His stupid, backwards baseball hat was in the way of her roving fingers. Without breaking the kiss, she yanked it off his head, tossing it over her shoulder.
"Watch your arm," was the only warning he gave her before he crushed her to him and rolled over, laying her down on the blanket. He pushed the hem of her top up, kissing his way from the top of her jeans to just under her breasts, where the material was bunched. She put her arms over her head, and he took the hint and removed it completely. He kissed her hard, his weight pressing down on her, her back arching, her breasts begging for attention.
He always gave her what she wanted. His thumb grazed one, his tongue laving the other before he sucked her nipple into his mouth.
The jolt it sent through her body made her cry out.
* * *
Kirk had been walking down the sidewalk, past the flower shop. The fireworks were too loud; it wasn't that he was scared, he just wanted to protect his hearing. He'd been passing Luke's diner when an object fell out of the sky and hit him on the head.
He'd seen a documentary on T.V. where a lady had been walking on the street and a meteor the size of a golf ball had fallen out of the sky and hit her. The odds of that happening to someone were astronomical, no pun intended. He felt special.
He rubbed his head, then bent over to look for the interstellar fragment. Instead, he saw a blue baseball cap. Damn Luke was probably trying to kill him. Kirk thought of when Lorelai had asked him to fix her porch, and her Jeep. Luke was most likely jealous. Luke considered himself to be Lorelai's personal handyman. With a purposeful stride, he crossed the street back to the festival, braving the noise of the fireworks.
Patty was the closest person. "Luke tried to kill me," he told her. He held up Luke's baseball hat as evidence.
"What?" she asked, not quite surprised that someone had tried to kill Kirk, but that they'd waited so long to do so.
"I was walking by the diner and this," he shook the hat, "flew off the roof and hit me in the head."
Patty raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen Lorelai recently…"
She ignored Kirk and went over to Babette. She explained the Kirk/hat incident. Babette looked around, and also didn't see Lorelai. The two of them went over to Andrew. He hadn't seen her either. The three headed over to Sookie and Jackson. Sookie said Lorelai had gone to look for Luke a while ago. Patty and Babette exchanged knowing grins, then walked toward the diner. Kirk and Andrew followed. Jackson and Sookie, curious, went after them.
The people who'd gathered in the square to watch the fireworks saw the group of six head over to Luke's. Most were curious as to what was more entertaining than the fireworks, and got up from their blankets and followed.
Bootsy was one of that group.
"What's going on?" he asked in his raspy voice.
Kirk explained that Luke tried to kill him by throwing his hat off the roof of the diner. Bootsy said that if Luke really wanted to kill Kirk, all he had to do was poison Kirk's food whenever he came into the diner. Kirk paled.
Miss Patty chuckled at Bootsy's comment, then laid a hand on Bootsy's arm. She whispered in a very loud stage whisper, "Lorelai went to see him."
Sookie got nervous. "We shouldn't be here," she said.
"We have every right to stand in the street," Bootsy defended.
"Shh!" Babette told the group, which had grown to about twenty people by now. "How can we hear anything if everyone's talking!"
"What are we listening for?" Kirk asked, annoyed that no one cared Luke tried to kill him.
A female cry answered him from the roof of the diner. It was faint, but unmistakable.
"That," Miss Patty told him, and clapped. The rest of the group, even those that hadn't known what was going on before, suddenly understood, and joined her in the applause.
Sookie, mortified for her best friend, and for Luke as well,
thumped her head on
* * *
Lorelai's good hand held Luke's head to her chest, her fingers clenching and unclenching in hair that had been hidden under a baseball hat for way too long. No wonder he didn't talk a lot, she thought, he could do far better things with his tongue than form words. His teeth grazed her nipple and she cried out again as the pain and the pleasure intertwined. She could hear the applause and she grinned; he totally deserved it. His hand left her breast, trailing down her stomach to the button of her jeans, and she bolted up.
Applause? Why the hell was there applause?
Luke thought she was changing her mind. He came crashing down like a junkie from his elated high to a terrible low. He tried to console himself with the thought that it was more than he ever hoped would happen.
"Do you hear that?" she asked, and his dismay lifted a little. She hadn't said 'Get the hell off of me.'
"Hear what?" he asked, and when the pounding of his heart slowed down and quieted, he heard it. People were applauding. And cheering.
"They couldn't," Lorelai said, indignant and topless. She turned around and found her tube top. She tried to put it back on, but it caught on her cast, and she struggled with the material around her head, her breasts bouncing.
Luke forgot about the people momentarily as he was, like any man, distracted by the sight of breasts bouncing. With reluctance he helped her put her top back on, and once out of sight, he remembered again.
A shout of, "It's about time!" reached them. Lorelai rested her head in her hand, a smirk forming on her face. Her anger was becoming amusement.
Luke was angry and embarrassed, and regretted not having rocks on his roof. He got up, intent on yelling to them about respecting privacy. Lorelai put her hand on his arm and stopped him.
"Don't," she told him. "They mean well."
"What do we do?" he asked. "I can't…now," he managed to say. The knowledge that the whole town was down there, aware of what was going on, was worse than a bucket of ice water.
"Well, we could go over to the edge and wave like British Royalty," Lorelai suggested. "We could pretend we were the Beatles and play them a song, but since we have no instruments, that might not work so well." She looked around the roof. "I don't see any hot oil or rocks, so that's out of the question."
The applause had died down. "You think they're still there?" Luke asked.
"Most likely."
They sat in silence for a while. Lorelai put her right hand in Luke's. He squeezed.
"Do we need to talk?" he asked.
Lorelai shook her head. "I don't. I know what's going on."
"You do?" She looked confident, but her hand was trembling.
"Yeah. I want you."
"Good," Luke said. "I, you know…uh," he hated talking, "want you too."
Lorelai grinned. "I know."
Luke shrugged. "Okay. Just so we're clear."
Lorelai raised an eyebrow. "Just so we know what's going on," she confirmed.
"Right."
They sat on the roof, hand in hand, waiting for the group gathered below to lose interest or get tired and walk away. On the sidewalk below, everyone had tilted their heads, straining to hear sounds from the roof.
"What's going on?"
* * *
Anyone else have Marvin Gaye in their head?
Not the song, but the man himself. A tiny, shrunken Marvin Gaye singing in my brain. I need sleep.
Reviews are appreciated and treasured. And no, for once, I'm not being sarcastic! This is the last chapter I have written so now I have the daunting task of coming up with new stuff. Whimper. And I have no motivation b/c season 3 of Gilmore Girls HATES me and forces me to sit through 4 episodes of Rory and Dean and Jess and oh boy oh boy I couldn't care less.
Oh lord I just rhymed.