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This Brillant Dance

by jaded innocence

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This is just a little fluffy fic, I guess to get myself back into writing.

It Java Junkie with bits of Literati, and it will probably be a three-

part fic. If the continual POV change is difficult, please suggest a

way to clarify. PLEASE review. Tell me how much you loved it, how

you think I should throw myself off the nearest cliff, whatever.  Just,

anything, is great. Thanks :-)

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Ms. Patty sits, taking a long drag from her cigarette. Pretending to

take in the scenery that she has seen an uncountable number of

times before is a cover for what she is actually doing: checking out

the backside of every seemingly legal man that walks by.

During a particularly slow period, where she is distinctly unsatisfied

with the view, she actually takes a few precious seconds out of her

man-hunting routine to look over the town. Another festival, held for

no apparent reason, has taken over the square, and music plays

gently on the warm summer breeze. Ms. Patty shifts on the bench

and glances around, looking for more men. Her eyes rest on Luke,

sitting all alone on a bench. She hums to herself and prepares to get

up and walk over when Lorelai comes over with a cup of coffee in

hand and plops herself on the bench beside him.

Ms. Patty chuckles to herself and sits down again. Those two. Two of

the stupidest  people she'd ever met. Can't even see who is standing

right in front of them, what could be...what should be.

Unfortunately, Ms. Patty, in her rare moment of wisdom, also

misses what is right in front of her-a particularly muscular

firefighter with a very nice behind.

*

"Aww, Lukey! Finally breaking down after all these years and going

to a festival!" Lorelai says happily as she spots Luke and sits down

on the bench beside him, thermos of coffee in hand. The stars are

dancing in the sky and Luke watches, amused, as she hums the tune

of that song that's playing that he's never heard.

"I didn't 'break down' and come to this dumb festival for the sake of

the festival. I came based on the gossip-that there would be a

second showing of Kirk's movie." She smirks at this, and he grins

in return. Something twinges in the pit of her stomach, but she

ignores it.  That twinge has become all too familiar lately. It shakes

her sometimes when he smiles, when he looks at her, when he dips

close to her to pour her coffee. She chalks it up to her hormones.

Her love life has been pathetically empty lately.  

"Well, I can guarantee that it will be worth it. No one can bust a

move like Kirk. You may even harbor temporary same-sex

tendencies at the sight of his bare chest."

"I've seen my own chest before and noted no sexual side effects, so

I'm sure Kirk's won't be a problem," he tells her. He blushes as he

comes to the realization that the statement that had sounded witty

in his mind has come out boasting his narcissistic tendencies

instead. Or his great bare chest. One or the other. He waits for her

to tease, but she sits for moment in silence.

She tries to think of an innuendo to throw back, but all she comes

up with is asking him to prove that his chest is that much better

than Kirk's. She isn't quite sure why her wit has chosen that

particular moment to leave her. Maybe it's the quiet way Luke

looked at her and huskily uttered the word sexual -she stops the

dirty thought before she has to shower and manages to speak.

"After all, the sight of Kirk's bare chest did prompt me to

eat salad for three days in payment for the bootleg copy of the

movie Rory found me," she adds.

When she asked him to prove it, it sounded like an offer to him. He

has no idea what he's doing and why he takes the offer seriously,

but he grabs her free hand and presses it to his chest. She gasps

sharply and leans into him, and there's a question on the tip of her

tongue, but her mouth is dry and she's too heated to remember it.

She simply lets him touch her, and she can feel the rapid beating of

his heart pulsing like the blood beneath her own burning skin. She

has no idea what she's doing.

*

His strawberries are fat and crimson, Jackson notes with pride. He

doesn't need reassurance of the obvious talent he has with fruits

and vegetables. It's one of the only things he knows of without

being told. He examines the picnic basket hungrily and realizes he

can't indulge without his partner.

He slowly cranes his neck, waiting for Sookie, who went off to find

Lorelai. While he does, he notices Lorelai sitting on the bench with

Luke nearby. Rolling his eyes, he wonders where Sookie has gone to

with Lorelai only a few feet away.

He squints, expecting to see Sookie coming back behind Lorelai.

Instead, he catches a glimpse of Luke glancing at Lorelai heavily,

her hand pressed to his chest by his own. For the first time since

they've been married, he finds himself glad that Sookie isn't there.

If she was, he would be forced to listen to that rant about coffee and

fate and Luke and Lorelai and how they belonged together. He

doesn't need to be told things he already knows.

*

Lorelai is trapped and very, very warm. The night is sultry

and the crowd is falling into a velvety silence that surrounds her.

The only thing she is aware of is the pounding of the blood

coursing through all of her veins. She is also becoming slowly

aware of the way Luke is looking at her, the way his breath is short and heaving.

His mouth is tantalizingly close to hers. She wants to kiss him. And as soon as

she realizes that she is thinking about kissing Luke, she really feels

the need to break this odd connection.

"Uhhh..." Lorelai begins. She tries to detach her tongue from

the roof of her mouth but finds that her entire mouth feels like sandpaper.

She swallows hard. She doesn't remove her hand from him.

She feels like she can't.

Luke just waits and watches. He doesn't know what is happening

to his better judgment. When Lorelai speaks accusing like he knows she will,

he decides that he will plead temporary insanity and turn his attention to

Kirk's movie, rather than focusing on the way she smells and the way her hand

is burning his heart slowly with every finger that touches him. He squirms a

bit to focus on something else, something to distract him from this damn heat.

Her hand is still there, his hands still holding it.

"Luke," she breathes, trying to break the moment before hormones get the

better of her and she really does kiss him. Her attempt has failed as

soon as his name tumbles from her throat. Instead of sounding determined

like she meant to, she sounds longing. Lorelai silently damns her stupid voice

and her stupid teenage hormones.

Luke studies at her, unsure of what the hell is going on. His name

echoes in her husky tones inside his head and her pulse jumps

under his finger. Kirk's movie begins, but Luke is no longer

interested in break-dancing Kirk. Not even marginally. Not even at

all. 

*

Jess and Rory are huddled together on a picnic blanket. Her eyes are

intent on the screen, and a small grin traces the corners of her lips.

His hand strokes her hair absently as he watches a bare-chested

Kirk onscreen with disgust. He averts his eyes just as she glances

upward.

"Huh-uh. You have to watch the whole thing, or there is no way that

we're renting your movie," she says, shaking her head.

"Ror, c'mon. Wouldn't it scare you a little if I actually showed

interest in a movie that features half-naked Kirk? I'm sorry, but this

is disgusting."

Rory hides a smile at the repulsed expression on his face as he

turns away. Resigned, she sighs loudly and turns her attention

back to the screen. "Fine," she replies airily. "But if you won't allow

me to torture you now, I'll torture you later. We'll get Indian food

and read a little Danielle Steele aloud."

"As long as I read the raunchy part," he smirks, then turns his head

fully in the other direction before she can slap his cheek. She gets a

piece of his ear instead, but cannot be bothered to get into a large

fight when Kirk's dancing is getting so good.

Not that Jess notices the slap anyway. He's too busy trying to turn

his head in another direction. He's all for raunchy in moderation, but

between Kirk's movie and the way his uncle is looking at Lorelai like

he wants to throw her down on the bench and rip her skirt off, he's

overloading his raunchy limit for the night. Watching them, he also

gets the strangest feeling he is looking at himself and Rory. He

shakes his head.

Jess kisses Rory's neck quickly to drain his thoughts and then

studies the ground. Mud is the dirtiest view he cares for at the

moment.

*

Lorelai has lost track of how long her hand as been pressed to

Luke's chest. She has lost track of all rational thought, actually.

She is oddly fascinated by the way his heartbeat jumps so quickly

into her hand. She gulps and meets his eyes again.

There is a pregnant pause in all movement, all attempts to make

conversation. Luke tries to control himself. He clears his throat and

finally, releases his grip on her hand. She can't touch him anymore.

She is still looking at him, but her hand is trailing down his chest,

down his stomach, dipping dangerously low before coming

to rest on his leg.  Luke feels his blood coming to a slow boil and

grabs her hand, roughly removing it from his leg.

"Lorelai," he groans. He can't take it. She's teasing him so badly he

is starting to ache. "What are you doing?"

She rubs her hand absently and looks at him with wide eyes. She

shakes her head. "Sorry," she says. "I don't know...." He shakes his

head. Lorelai is too hormonal for his taste right now. He wonders

who she has broken up with this time. That is, after all, the only

logical explanation for her sudden longing.  He turns his head back

to the movie.

Lorelai watches him watching Kirk, her mind racing. She wonders

blankly what the hell is going on. Why all of a sudden, here, on this

bench she can't get enough of Luke. It's ridiculous. Insane, even.

Lorelai has never really been a fan of perfect sanity.

*

Abrupt ending? Possibly. But I have 3 parts, and I don't want to c

cram all the good stuff into one. Drop a line.

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