KIRK

When Kirk was a little boy, a long while ago, his mother had become very ill one day, with what she said was the gallopin' consumption. She couldn't get out of bed, therefore she could not work, or sew, or even cook for little Kirk. It was in times like those that Kirk wished for his father…he got really hungry when he didn't eat.

After that Ms. Gleason vowed with God as her witness that she would never let her boy go hungry again. She decided that she would teach him to cook.

Now Ms. Gleason was no Emeril, or even Dom Delouise. She could make fried chicken, and steam vegetables, but mostly, just fried chicken. What a great day it had been when Luke's had opened.

Kirk ate at Luke's every day, but sometimes he liked a nice home-cooked meal; a nice chicken wing sizzled and simmered to perfection. This day in Stars Hollow was one of those days. It was warm and sunny outside, the perfect day for a walk, but Kirk knew it was too early to go outside in, well, you know, public. With those people. He'd left many of the stories on Rory and Lorelai's porch, but there were still many inside his home, though he'd taken them off the walls: Mom didn't approve.

Kirk still hadn't found very many stories about himself. The ones he did find all featured him trying to take over the world in some way. Ha! Like he'd do that. It was mildly offensive, and he felt disheartened at the thought that people only saw him as a cruel, conniving, calculating person. But at least he got to wear a cape in the stories.

In a way, however, he did have control of Stars Hollow. He sat down in the chair in front of the stove to get a better grasp on the thought.

He wasn't supposed to have seen last night, but Lorelai had been crying. She just sat in his driveway and cried while Rory watched looking very sad. Everyone was very sad. Well, was it because of the stories? He was afraid so. He didn't want to make anyone cry, especially not Lorelai; especially not after she had made him cry. Hmph.

It really all was very sad – there were stories of love, lust, loss. Of course, most things ended happily (the ones that had endings), but there was so much desperate pain. Kirk wondered why anyone bothered. He was being smart by staying out of the dating scene. And besides, Blind Date had rejected his application.

Some of the stories he'd read were just scary; very bad things occurred. Sometimes Rory got raped, or she died, or Lorelai had cancer. A lot of the time, Lorelai and Luke ruined their friendship because of, well… sex. Kirk made the word small in his mind, but with the fans' fiction, it was very big. And sometimes it was between two boys, or two girls:

At first Jess was jealous of Dean. He wanted Rory. He wanted her because she was smart and sweet and perfect for him. But Rory didn't know what she wanted. She couldn't make up her mind. So Jess decided he was gonna help her.

Rory thought that she could save the world, and that she knew Jess. Whoa, if she knew how I REALLY am, Jess thought. He was smoking a cigarette. "Fuck," he said. Dean was something special to him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but a lot of the time when he pretended hate Dean and kill him, he was just trying to play off the fact that he wanted him. He wanted to feel him beside him touching, feeling and caressing.

Kirk couldn't be sure if this was true or not. He didn't think that Dean or Jess was like that, but how could he know? There was so much of this slash stuff that he wondered if maybe all of Stars Hollow had a super-big secret that they weren't telling him. Oh, no – that was it!

The chicken was halfway done now, just a few more minutes.

Maybe Rory and Lorelai didn't have normal mother-daughter problems; maybe one night, Lorelai had caught Rory and Luke "together". Or that's why Lorelai and her parents lived in different cities; sure, a man had gotten Lorelai pregnant at sixteen, but maybe Lorelai wanted to raise the child with her real lover, and then everything went to hell.

Hmm.

Kirk felt pretty weirded-out by all these rambling thoughts. He stood to turn the heat down on the stove and walked in circles around the kitchen area.

The most important thing he wanted to focus on was his power. Superheroes were super-keen, but that wasn't his role in life – to wear tights and fly around and save tiny women from monsters. He knew all sorts of things about the main characters of his life that either they did not know or wouldn't admit. Why was that? Weren't you supposed to reveal your feelings? To make sure everyone knew just how you felt, just in case? Sometimes the people of Stars Hollow could be really silly and stubborn. Like Luke, for instance. He was so in love with Lorelai. It was torture for everyone to stand back and watch them not be together. Especially Kirk, 'cause boy had he put a lot of that money in the pool Patty started. And nothing stood in their way; not Rachel, not Max (and certainly not Kirk, darn it); the two of them were just two big scaredy-cats in Kirk's opinion.

This was possibly the most poignant thing Kirk had ever thought, and it almost brought a tear to his eye. He checked the chicken, and it was done, a fully-ripened golden brown, like the hatching of a hen's bright new egg.

Luke's was very crowded when Kirk walked in, and he almost reconsidered trying at all. He'd bought a picnic basket made of bamboo shoots a few days before at a woven craft sale, and now he had a use for it. His mother packed the chicken wings and legs in the basket and covered them with a red checkered napkin. Kirk put in the spaceman that came with his cereal for good luck. They would need it.

He was standing near the door clutching his picnic basket when Jess shuffled past him, carrying multiple plates of food. Oh. He had forgotten about him. Now he had double the work to do.

"Table for one?" Kirk announced, raising his hand. Jess ignored him, but Luke told him that he could sit wherever he chose.

There was one empty table in the corner of the restaurant, which was perfect: it would let Kirk analyze everything around him. He was feeling very Nancy Drew. He even had a notepad with him and a pen. If not Nancy Drew, he wanted to be Columbo (though sometimes he felt like Steve from Blue's Clues).

The first thing he noticed was that nothing seemed different. Taylor was wearing the same sweater he always wore, hot or cold, dressy or casual. He was sipping from his spoon slowly, with much meaning and attention focused on his movements. Luke walked by every few moments to see if Taylor was still there, being Taylor, and each time, Taylor raised his head and sniffed like he was one of those people who was just going to make people feel bad about themselves all the time.

There was also Jess, who when given a moment's pause, read a book. Every time the door jangled open, Jess looked up, looking hopeful – that Rory might come, Kirk knew.

Kirk felt so very different, and his whole world was different now. Someone knew about him, about Stars Hollow and everything about them… how could everyone go on like everything was normal?

"What'll you have Kirk?" Luke said in his normal agitated and bored tone.

"Fried chicken. But you don't have to make it for me."

"What?"

"I have it right here, in this picnic basket."

"Okay, well great. Go have yourself a picnic. I got regular customers waiting for a table so that they can order food."

"I'll have a slice of pie, then."

Luke sighed. "What kind?"

"Bloomenberry?"

"Kirk."

"Apple will do. And some lemonade. It's hot outside today."

"Comin' right up."

Kirk bit his lip and frowned. Luke was not in the mood to hear what Kirk had to say. But Luke was never in the right mood.

Kirk drew out his small notepad and wrote some more things down. He used his most recent note for inspiration: Always attack from the back.

"Luke, I know something about you that you don't know!" Kirk shouted. Everyone froze and looked at Luke, not Kirk.

"What?" Luke said, not seeming fazed. "Kirk, get outta here."

"No, Luke, I have something important to say."

"Say it to the wall. Jess!"

Jess looked up from his book and then hopped up, approaching Kirk.

"No, please, not this again," Kirk pleaded.

Jess grabbed Kirk's elbow and gently led him out the door.

"Sorry, man," Jess said, not looking sorry at all. "Try again later." And he locked the door.

Saturday morning and no where to go. He decided to come back later, like Jess had mentioned. Until then, he could look for one of those Groucho Marx disguises so that he could actually get in.

Kirk bit into one of his chicken wings... Perfect, he thought. Everything is coming together.

Hi, it's me, the girl who wrote this story. I should probably upload more than one chapter at a time, and I do have several more written, but I have to fix a few things first and make it sound right. I hope you've enjoyed so far. J