___


Luke approaches Nicole's front door. He's got no idea what he's going to say, which is a state he's finding himself in a lot lately. He knocks.

She opens the door. She is still wearing her dress from the restaurant. "Hi," she says.

"Hey," Luke says. He is suddenly quite nervous.

She looks at him a moment, looks sad. "I guess you've decided then?"

"What? Wait, I haven't even said anything yet."

"It hasn't been hard to figure out, ever since the first time I heard you say her name." She sighs. "Well, come in anyway."

Luke follows her in, and they sit in her living room. Nicole just looks at him, waiting.

So Luke asks the first question on his mind. "If you saw something there - between me and Lorelai - Why didn't you say something, or smack me?"

"I thought your sense of self-preservation would kick in and you'd get over her. She seems a little high-maintenance." Nicole smiles.

"You have no idea," Luke says, smiling also.

Then he tells Nicole all about the theory he's been pondering lately, that maybe real relationships are supposed to be calm and uneventful, not full of sparks and passion and ups and down and craziness.

"God," she says, grinning. "That's a depressing thought."

Luke shrugs. "Well, I'm hardly an expert on this stuff." he says, "I'm just not sure what I should do here."

"Yes, you are. Do you love me?" she asks, and Luke suddenly pictures her taking a deposition: Mr. Danes, did you love our client, or were you just killing time?

Luke looks at the carpet. He can't answer. He doesn't want to hurt her. He's never been the one in this position before, never understood just how difficult it is.

"Right," she says, as though he did answer. "Do you love Lorelai?"

He can't answer that one either.

Nicole sighs. "I like you a lot, Luke. But you're obviously not ready for a mature, adult relationship."

"Huh?" he says, startled. "What are you --"

"Gotcha," she says, smirking at him. "I do have a sense of humor, you know, it's just rusty."

Luke laughs a little, and then sighs again. "I am really sorry, Nicole. I didn't know it would go down like this. I don't know what I'm doing. I just wish there was some way for everyone to be happy."

"I think it only works that way in movies."

"Not the movies you watch," he says, smiling at her.

"Hated all of them, didn't you?" she asks, smiling back, a real smile. "I think that's when I really knew it wasn't going to work out."

"So, this is it?" Luke asks. "This is us not working out? Because you seem to be a couple of steps ahead of me."

"Well, as tempting as it would be to twist the guilt knife a little, I'm thinking I'll just have to let you off easy on this one."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not ready to give up on sparks yet either." She smiles again, and Luke understands the unspoken bit: And I didn't get them with you.

"You know," he says, trying to give her a last chance to tell him he's being an idiot, "It's not like I'm just leaving here and running straight to her." It's true. He doesn't know for sure how things are going to play out with Lorelai. The possibilities are a little frightening. "It's not like anything has, uh, happened between us."

"I know. But it's all about the potential, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

And then they chat a bit more, and they make half-sincere promises to keep in touch, and they hug for a moment before Luke leaves.

And he drives home, and he is sad and elated and confused, and it's too many things to feel at one time so he just turns on some loud rock radio station and tries not to think of any of it at all. It sort of works, but nothing is able entirely to push the memories of kissing Lorelai from his mind.


***

It's Sunday morning, so Luke doesn't expect Lorelai in until later. He knows she sleeps in on Sundays. So he is shocked to see her and Rory come in at 8:53 a.m. The diner is still pretty empty; the church crowd won't be here for hours. Rory looks happy; Lorelai looks happy and nervous and her face is a little flushed. Spring is starting to kick in, and she's wearing a pale blue flowery dress that brings out her eyes. They take one of their usual window tables, and Luke heads over with coffee and two mugs.

"Morning, ladies."

"Hi Luke!" says Rory, and it's the most cheery he's seen her in a long time. He wonders if it's because she's happy to have things back to normal with Luke and Lorelai, or if it has more to do with whatever happened with Jess last night.

"Hi," Lorelai says, and grins at him. Their eyes lock for a moment; Luke feels an unexpected rush of desire. He smiles back, and begins to pour their coffee.

"Whoa there," says Lorelai, when Luke has filled her massive cup a third of the way, and then she mumbles something else. Luke stops pouring.

"What was that?" he asks.

"I, uh, quit drinking coffee for a while," she says. "I need to start off slow."

"Yeah right, and Michael Jackson quit having plastic surgery."

"It's true," Rory pipes up. "She did."

Luke looks back and forth from Rory to Lorelai. "How long have you gone without it?" he asks.

"Oh, about a month and a half," says Lorelai, smiling again.

Luke is so shocked by this he actually asks her if she wants him to bring her decaf instead.

"Rory, tell the crazy man that we don't appreciate his little jokes."

"Ok, ok," says Luke. "So what can I get you to eat?"

"I'm pretty sure I was offered complimentary blueberry pancakes," Lorelai says.

"Really, by whom?"

"Rory, tell the crazy man that he doesn't want to mess with me since I'm about to drink my first real coffee in weeks."

"Ok, I'm totally not getting involved in disputes between crazy people," says Rory. "But I'd like blueberry pancakes too, and I'm willing to pay for mine. And bacon, please."

"Do you want bacon, too?" he asks Lorelai. "I warn you, your interpreter seems to be shirking her responsibilities, so you might have to temporarily overlook the fact that I offered you decaf and address me directly."

Lorelai sighs dramatically. "Just this once. Bacon would be lovely. And extra blueberries. Ooh, and a big glass of milk, but only if it's cold."

"Why wouldn't it be cold?"

"Maybe someone left it out on the counter overnight."

"This is a restaurant, not your kitchen."

Lorelai looks at Rory. "What is this "kitchen" the crazy man speaks of?"

"It's that room," Rory says vaguely. "You know."

Luke leaves them then as they continue to chatter and he goes into the kitchen and cooks their pancakes himself.

So they eat their blueberry pancakes while complimenting Luke and making noises that border on indecent. And towards the end Luke hears them arguing over who is going to have leftover pancakes and should therefore have to share, so he makes up an extra order and brings them out and sets them down between them while they're still mid-bicker.

They both literally gasp at the new stack of pancakes in front of them, then look up at Luke in reverence.

"Rory, tell the crazy man that he is my hero."

"You tell him, I'm busy dividing these into fair and equitable portions."

"Define equitable."

And they're off again. Luke goes off to wait on other customers. After a while he sees Rory go upstairs, most likely to wake up Jess.

So he goes to Lorelai's table and sits down, and before she can start talking, he says: "So. Saturday night."

"I'm familiar with it. Traditionally before Sunday, but after Friday."

"Right. Next Saturday night, specifically. Are you busy?"

"Well, I did have Jude Law pencilled in. We were just going to hang, though, have a few beers. He needs someone to talk to right now. But I can probably reschedule. Why?"

"I was thinking we could have dinner."

Lorelai looks surprised. "We? As in, you and me and Nicole?" she asks, and he can see that she's not being snide; she's just trying not to make any assumptions. He's kind of touched by the amount of self-control she's exhibiting.

"We as in you and me. You and I. Whatever."

"And Nicole is all right with this?" Still the sincere, concerned tone.

"The Luke and Nicole Show was cancelled on account of low ratings," he says.

Lorelai is obviously struggling with how to react. She settles on, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just tell me whether you're free on Saturday night to have dinner with me."

"Shouldn't I play hard to get for a while first?"

"Five years wasn't long enough?"

"Ouch! Did I mention recently that you're an evil, evil man?"

"You did. Saturday night?" he asks again.

And then she smiles at him, and her face lights up and she is suddenly the same beautiful young woman who called him Duke for two years just to get him to wake up.

"What time?" she asks.

***

Continued in Chapter Six.