All That's Green Isn't Glitter

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the imaginary dress. Heh.

Summary: One-parter JJ ficlet that takes place at the Stars Hollow St. Patrick's Day Festival; Luke and Lorelai have been questioning their relationship for a bit now. This is different for me – it's angsty, fluffy, and a little bit OC all at the same time. I wouldn't go as far as to call it AU, though.

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It was a picturesque setting. If Stars Hollow was a canvas, then Rembrandt created the scene. In the background, soft melodies from the old Emerald Isle drifted in the tender wind, and the aroma of stuffed marrow squash and coddle teased the eager noses of the townspeople. Painted in the foreground was a kilted Jackson attempting to carry a tune on the bagpipes, a delighted Sookie serving up Strawberry Scones, and a content and solitary Lorelai standing on the dance floor, clutching a lime ginger ale.

The Stars Hollow Saint Patrick's Day festival had begun.

Behind the Gazebo, couples were getting their picture taken under an unevenly painted rainbow and styrofoam pot of gold for a small price. A chattering Babette and a less than enthusiastic Morey headed the line. Lorelai yanked a portion of her emerald evening gown out from under her three-inch heel, wiped some eye glitter from her cheek, and waved. Babette almost flew away with her excited hand while Morey shuffled his feet and solemnly twitched his hands. Lorelai smiled, almost smirking at the squabble.

Returning to the sidewalk with the company of her clicking heels, Lorelai silently admired the way the moon reflected off of her dress. Ooh, sparkly. Subconsciously, she tossed the ale into a garbage bin before realizing that the goblet was made of glass, not plastic. She looked down into the depth of the bin and it reeked of settling grease and soup broth. Ugh, no way. They won't notice one glass missing, will they? She innocently darted her eyes in hope that nobody noticed her mistake. She caught Luke's bored and wandering gaze and walked over to the bench where he was uncomfortably residing.

"You look thrilled to be here."

"Oh, but I am."

"Scoot over." Luke retracted from his previously sprawled-out-all-over position.

Lorelai surveyed the sullen Luke from his hunter green dress shirt to the crisp fold in his black slacks. That's a different look. He even wore green. Aw, being festive, are we? She didn't notice the look of absurdity that crossed Luke's face as she examined his gleaming shoes.

Looking up again, Lorelai remarked proudly. "Nice. You're even wearing green."

"Regretfully, yes."

"So, why'd you come out here if you're just going to sit here with an expression more somber than Henry the Eighth after Jane Seymour died?"

"Nobody's in the diner and I'm not tired." He slouched. "There's nothing else to do."

"You could parade around in front of Miss Patty and Babette. The green would win them over." She gestured to the form-fitting shirt. "You could tell them where you bought your shirt and they'll tell you just how 'pretty' you are." Lorelai's voice went up a pitch higher as she finished her sentence.

She batted her eyelashes furiously at Luke, in demonstration of her mockery. In the process, eye glitter cascaded into the crease between her nose and eye, causing her to yelp.

"Ow ow ow!" Lorelai reflexively slapped her hand over her right eye.

"What?"

"Glitter. Ow."

"Glitter? Huh?"

"My eye!"

"Oh. Move your hand."

As told, Lorelai removed her hand to reveal a swollen red eye. As quickly as it had opened, it closed.

"I can't keep it open. It hurts."

"Close your eye really tightly. Natural tears supposedly remove foreign objects from your eye."

"Okay, Dr. Luke." She squeezed her eyes shut and slightly cocked her head to the side. Soon, a trail of tears began down her cheek, each carrying a glitter particle. Her sarcastic remarks and playful joking reminded him that she was just trying to get the glitter out, but tears were a weakness.

"This isn't working. It still hurts." Lorelai softly whimpered. "I'll try again." She tightened the lid of her eye once more. After a few moments, Luke's voice broke the silence.

"Stop doing that." He rubbed his thumb against the wood of the bench.

"Stop doing what?"

"Making yourself cry."

"But you said…"

"Forget what I said. It's obviously not working."

"Oh, that's right, crying women freak you out." Lorelai laughed gently and opened her swollen eye to a squint.

"Crying people in general freak me out."

A childish grin spread across her face, but was quickly covered by a flinch.

"Ugh, I can feel the stuff all over my face." She scratched her face with her nails ineffectively. She started to create red marks when Luke grabbed her hand and forcefully pulled it away.

"That's not helping either. You'll just end up looking like a strawberry toaster strudel."

"You know what those are? Wow. Do you resort to frozen food when you get tired of your own?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "You never stop."

"Nope, but get the glitter off my face before I start a cat fight with myself."

Luke's arm shook as he brought his hand to cup Lorelai's face. Both of them noticeably flinched at the contact, but it was Luke who looked away. Like coarse sandpaper on balsa wood, he attempted to remove the glitter. His disoriented thumb roughly grazed her skin.

"Dude, you're making it worse. At least look at what you're doing." Lorelai pointed out to Luke, who was now drilling holes into the concrete sidewalk with his eyes.

"Oh, uh, sorry." Luke stammered and desperately tried to prevent the blush inside of him from reaching his hands. He failed.

Turning back to her, he averted his eyes to the hand serving as lint roller to the glitter. He squinted in concentration as he brushed away flecks of green, one piece at a time. Without thinking, he tucked a brown wave of hair behind her ear as his hands roamed her earlobes and lower jaw for stray sparkling irritants. Warmth had gathered in her cheeks and it exploited her feeling of half-humiliation, half-pleasure in just having his hand on her face. Reluctantly, he withdrew.

"There's no more." He whispered. Clearing his throat, he repeated louder, "Yeah, there's no more glitter."

"Thank you."

Lorelai's bright eyes met Luke's and the glacier between the two of them calved.

Dear god, not the eyes.

After staring at her eyes for so many years, it had become a heart wrenching experience. There were flashes of childhood hurting, optimistic pockets of enthusiasm, waterfalls, seaside cottages, cherry blossoms, and everything else that belonged in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Every time he drowned himself in their hypnotic spell, he would be swept into an experience similar to an IMAX film, and IMAX films made him want to throw up.

He felt her hand clasp over his, but he didn't flinch. They held an expressionless stare, each trying to analyze, understand, and listen to what the other wasn't saying.

Luke allowed himself to wipe the slate clean for a moment. Her hands intertwined with his were unfamiliar to the touch. This wasn't the Lorelai who continually took advantage of his handyman capabilities and expected him to drop on his knees for her. This wasn't the Lorelai that treated his heart as 'just another piece of beef' and beat it violently with a meat hammer. This wasn't the Lorelai that would perpetually badger and manipulate him to get free food and coffee, therefore forcing him to lose business.

This woman was Lorelai. Just Lorelai. This was the woman that was held down every time she wanted to fly. This was the woman that drove him wildly crazy with her gregarious nature and independence. This was the woman who searches day and night, near and far, for the perfect man… and every time she thinks she's found him, she runs away or he hides. Love was like hide and seek and she never looked in the right places.

The moment was shattered by a slurred voice.

"Aww, aren't you two cute?"

Disgusted, Luke and Lorelai turned to the bench behind them.

"Yesh…you two." An unfamiliar townsperson spat out. She wore a dilapidated pea green hat and a similarly colored trouser suit. A cigarette hung limply out of the corner of her mouth, and the stench of fish and onions tainted her breath.

She and Lorelai had been sitting back to back, but Lorelai quickly sided over as close to Luke as she could without ending up on his lap.

"Scary." She whispered into his ear.

"No kiddin'." He protectively swung an arm onto the slab of wood behind her.

She yawned and hesitantly placed her head on his shoulder. He was startled, but comfortable all the same. Ten minutes later, with her eyes closed, she spoke.

"You're like, watching me."

"So what if I am?" He craned his neck so that he was nearly in front of her.

She cracked an eye open and a tired whisper escaped. "I wouldn't really mind." If the wind had been stronger, they would have kissed, but Mother Nature was not on their side. Neither was peace and tranquility.

"You two should get your picture taken. It's a real nice rainbow they've got there. You two look so perfect. Both of ya could be on a magazine." The woman spoke directly to them as her mind wandered elsewhere.

"That's okay, we're good where we are." Lorelai coldly assured the woman.

"Yeah." Luke merely agreed.

"You two are together, right?"

Both dropped their heads and instantly found their wrists fascinating. Lorelai knew what she wanted to say, and so did Luke. The matter at hand was what should be said. Lorelai finally looked up at Luke and saw that he was staring at her. She knew the answer…or she thought she did.

Too cheerfully, she turned to the pea green woman. "We are."

Silence ensued and Luke's voice cracked. "Just friends. We are just friends."

Lorelai desperately searched Luke's face in confusion, but he wasn't looking at her. She could feel the lump in her throat starting to form, and in three seconds, it felt like someone had shoved a sock down her throat. She managed to choke out her comment.

"…Yeah. That's what I meant. We're, uh, just friends." Not going to cry.

Disappointed, the woman turned up her nose. "Oh. I see."

Time passed and Lorelai couldn't bite her lip anymore because it would bleed. Her face was inundated with tears and her shoulders began to quiver.

"Honey, what's the matta?" A nosy inquiry sprung from behind.

"N-Nothing. Just glitter in my eye." She stuttered.

Luke was unconvinced. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her. If it were glitter, her shoulders would be still. If it were glitter, she would still speak clearly.

If it were glitter, she would have come to him.

Lorelai stood up and faced away from Luke. "I'm gonna go."

He kept his head down. He didn't need or want to see her run away from him. He heard her shoes shuffling against the concrete and the trunk of her jeep opening. So she's going to sit in the back of her car. What a wonderful place to wallow in. Shut up Luke, it's not like you're doing too swell yourself.

The company on the other side of the bench was never silent for long.

"She likes you."

Luke wanted to strangle her.

"I know."

"She looks happy with you."

"I know that too." Luke's voice became irritated with this woman's display of the truth.

"You like her."

Luke's eyes spelled bloody murder.

"I KNOW THAT. Are you finished playing 'Let's State the Obvious'? If you aren't, please, by all means let me know when you are!"

She chuckled. "Now you're mad."

"I'm leaving!" Luke shouted audaciously. He stormed away with his hands in his pockets. Damn, where am I going to go now? He certainly was not going anywhere near that bench anytime soon. Taylor's "bobbing for gold" game looked equally as pain inducing. He cracked his knuckles and sighed. Buildings relinquished their grandeur to silhouettes and the townspeople were waltzing amongst drunken fireflies. It was as if he'd been transported to his own dimension - where the only people were Lorelai, that bothersome woman in pea green, and himself.

Meanwhile, Lorelai was curled into the fetal position in a corner of her jeep's trunk. There was a run in her hose, beads were falling off of her dress, she was missing an earring, and there were grass stains on her shoes. The rivulets of tears still ran freely as she pressed her forehead against the cool windowpane.

She wasn't crying over Luke. Of course not.

I'm crying for all of those children in Africa with AIDS. All of those poor animals that are poached. Homeless people. Lack of world cooperation. Dammit, what else was there to be upset over? As long as it wasn't over Luke…

There was reason backing up the people that kept tissues in their car and she was regretful of not taking up the habit. Oh, the consequences of nonconformity.

She wasn't aware of the shadow that had crept up beside her. Luke sat down on the opposite end of the trunk leaving two feet between them. He rocked on the edge nervously, not knowing what to do.

They completely ignored each other for about fifteen minutes. He swallowed and held out his hand to her in a peace offering. The hand that had been tightly crushing a portion of her dress accepted. He gently tugged her hand towards him but she remained where she was and simply stared. The eyes of a child. She looks like a little girl who's just been told by all of her friends that they don't want to play with her anymore. His mouth formed a guilty line and he wished he could speak through his eyes. I'd play with you, but I've always been chosen last for teams at school and I never had many friends. I doubt you'd want to play with me. Somehow, she understood, because when he pulled her closer to him a second time, she moved. This time, snagging the dress on the car floor, she quite literally fell into his arms.

He awkwardly caught her as if they had completed a difficult dance movement. She stiffened upon contact, but didn't recoil from being caught. He didn't know the reason why she held her breath like she was putting on jeans that were too tight.

As he held her longer, he could feel her body slowly start to deflate as if she'd realized that she hadn't had that much to eat after all. She became so limp that he wondered if she was dead. Her shoulders rising and falling confirmed the fact that she wasn't, but it didn't stop him from wondering what it looked like when somebody died ... physically and emotionally.

The gentle rumble of thunder above broke the smothering silence and rain began to fall. Lorelai lifted her head from Luke's shoulder and reflections of blue lightning swirled within her eyes.

"Luke…why not?" Her fingers trembled in the palm of his hand.

He whispered with difficulty, "Because I can't."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't do it."

"Can't or won't?" Lorelai folded her arms in apparent frustration.

"Both." Luke turned his head away.

Dejectedly, Lorelai replied, "Fine. It's not a big deal…I can…I mean, it…mistakes happen and…"

The rain had started to come down harder than ever and the wail of Sookie attempting to salvage her culinary creations sounded throughout the town.

"Who said anything about a mistake?" If she was going to be problematical, he could do the same.

It was Lorelai's turn to quiet and she forlornly gazed at the puddle forming next to the jeep. Dirt and gravel ruined the clarity.

"My mistake."

"Which one?" Luke smiled and squeezed her hand to let her know that he wasn't serious.

She laughed lightly and answered, "All of them?" When the laugh had subsided, she became solemn. "I'm sorry for…for thinking that…" Her voice cut off and she rubbed glitter from the corner of her eye.

Déjà vu.

Like he had done only once before, his hand brushed her cheek and his thumb reached out for that lone, screaming piece of green sparkle. After whisking the glitter away, he left his hand there. He pulled her face towards him until she could hear his whisper.

"Someone once told me that one should never apologize for their emotions."

Weirded out by the uncomfortable situation, Lorelai joked, "Then I'm apologizing for being me."

Luke's hand dropped from her face and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

"That's something you should never apologize for either." The genuine sound of Luke's voice scared him. He wasn't a sappy romantic. He wasn't…really, he wasn't.

Lorelai closed her eyes and a single teardrop trickled down her cheek and landed in one of the tendrils of hair surrounding her face. A cold blast of air lashed against their faces, chilling them to the chambers of their hearts as they leaned closer together.

When their lips touched, it wasn't as if they were sucking lemons, but comparable rather to a butterfly's feelers tickling the surface of a daisy. The kiss became intense, as did the stream of tears steadily flowing with the euphony of rain. Their arms loosely rested on the shoulders of each other and their hands nestled into the grooves of neck vertebrae. Disappointment and frustration infected their emotions and they separated, still staring into each other's eyes and attempting to breathe normally. They realized that not unlike water and vegetable oil, no matter how much of each other's soul they would try and pour into each other, they would never mix.

Lorelai gasped for air through her sobs and collapsed onto Luke's shoulder. Luke quickly wrapped his arms around her like a warm afghan blanket and placed his chin on the top of her head as she wept. She couldn't understand why she was being so emotional about this. She'd never really confronted her feelings for Luke and in a short time span of two hours she'd managed to lament more than she did when she dropped her hair dryer into the sink. She also didn't know why they'd kissed if both knew that nothing would come of it. It was one of those strange occurrences in life that when placed on a wheel, the arrow turned to pointless, but the crowd shouted, "Worthwhile!"

Luke didn't know what had just happened or if he'd experienced a change in heart. Where did they stand? Was it three miles apart or seventy-five? There were so many questions left unanswered.

He inquired softly, "We are…?"

She was already three inches away from the edge of the cliff. She thought to herself, "Hell, let's just jump off."

"Just friends." Lorelai felt her throat swell and imaginary cotton asphyxiated her vocal cords. "We're just friends, remember?" She sputtered.

"Right. Uh, right."

The sobbing had slowed to gradual tears. When glaciers melted, they created waterfalls, which then lead to smaller brooks or streams. There was logic to nature.

"Lorelai. I'm gonna let you go." He released her from his hold.

He'd let go of Muenster cheese after it wasn't a big seller. He'd let go of the Monte Cristo sandwich. He'd even let go of his Righteous Brothers CD.

He never thought he'd have to let go of his best friend.

He positioned her so that her head was resting against the back of the seats. He noticed that she was still crying and carefully avoided looking her in the eye. Getting out of the trunk proved to be easier said than done and by the time he was standing upright, the rain had soaked through his green shirt, causing it to appear black.

"I'll see you tomorrow Lorelai." He whispered. He didn't hear an answer and wasn't surprised.

He turned on his heel and refused to look back on the pathetic scene that he, Luke, had left behind. The rain saturated every part of his clothing and body until he felt like he was drowning. His hair stubbornly glued itself to his head as he paused to watch the action in the town square. The last of the tables was being pulled inside Doose's and there was a crowd gathering inside the Gazebo. He watched as the curbside run-off flushed stray clover confetti into the gutter. A gust of wind gave him goose bumps and he made an effort to get back to the diner.

He was changing out of his soggy clothes when he noticed something on the shirt. He fingered it slowly and reminisced over how something so simple could mean so much and represent something so deep. There were pieces of green glitter.

Some men wanted fame. Others wanted fortunes. Still, others wanted cars and top executive jobs. Luke decided for the first time in his life that he wanted none of that.

All he wanted was the glitter.

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End -- July 14th, 2003 – 12:44 AM CST.