Readers:
I'll be the first to admit that I lied. I know that I said I would never write another "non-parody", but I couldn't help myself. I've been writing this for nearly three months, and I think it's finally ready. I'm not expecting a great turnout with the reviews, because most readers tend to only read one type of story, one pairing. So, in advance, thank you for giving this story a chance.
About the "Part Two in the Unwritten Couple Series" thing: you DO NOT need to read the first part or the third part. They are totally unrelated stories, and only the theme is the same.
One more thing: please don't put this on your site without telling me. One day I was surfing around and I found 'Part 1' on three or four other web pages. You can have it, but have the decency to mention it to me.
I think that about covers it, thank you very much.
With all due respect,
authors-anonymous
---
The bell tinkles, and Kirk looks up. Bouncing in, as only she can accomplish in five inch heels, Lorelai scatters a mountain of bags on the floor and sits, daintily, at the counter. Doe-eyed, she waits for Luke to pour her coffee, before launching into a tirade about 'some hussy who tried to take the last pair of black suede boots. The only ones-' she stresses, 'in my size.' But she showed her. Grinning, she bites into a donut and waits for Luke to yell about the purchases littering the floor. He does, in good time, and she bites her lip and dangles a shoe off one foot.
Absently Kirk runs his hand over his sweater vest, down his polyester- cotton blend pants. She is perched on a stool, maroon handbag lazily hung from one arm, coffee cup at her lips. She stops chattering when Rory arrives, thumping down a bag the size of Mongolia. Luke pours more coffee, but can't take his eyes off her.
--
It is five years ago, one autumn morning. Leaves are blowing into rainbow cadences, and Lorelai comes into the diner, holding her daughter Rory's hand. "Mom, can I go to Lane's after school?" the thirteen year old asks. Kirk sits at the counter watches their upside-down reflection in his coffee spoon. There are leaves caught in Lorelai's hair and scarf. Both she and Rory are flushed, but the younger remains sensible. Lorelai looks gorgeous. As always, no surprise there. Kirk is in love with her.
--
Her phone rings, cutting crisply through the average diner noises. Rolling her eyes, she points at the sign, precisely when Luke does. Ignoring his motioning, she turns her back to him, and flips the device open. "Hello?" she asks, glancing over at Rory. "Hi Mom." She pauses, listening. "I can do that. No, I'm not doing it right now. Because I'm not at the Inn." She clenches her jaw. "Mom, if I say I'll do it, I- if you don't trust me, why don't you phone me when I'm at work? But you didn't phone me at work, you phone me on my cell phone, thus meaning that I'm not at work." She rolls her eyes at Rory. "Yes, I take it to work with me, but- no mom. Fine- hold on." Covering the mouthpiece with one manicured hand, she calls out. "Luke! I need a pen!"
"Do I look like a stationary store to you?"
Lorelai licks her lips. "Hmm, well-"
"Take the damn pen." Luke says, thrusting a blue ballpoint at her. He scurries away, intent on better things. Kirk fingers the pen in his shirt pocket through the thin fabric of his vest.
"Okay Mom, I'm back. So that was Thursday at three?" Lorelai scribbles on her napkin.
--
Kirk sits in the diner, drinks his third hot chocolate. He knows Luke is getting impatient, because he keeps throwing glances and stray comments at him. Luke thinks he is lonely. Kirk is watching outside. Lorelai and Rory are building a showman. They are good at it, if you allow marks for artistic license. It is taller than Rory, and isn't falling apart yet. He watches as Lorelai leans down and kisses her daughters nose. There are snowflakes on her eyelashes.
--
She is beautiful today, wearing black jeans and one of Rory's shirts. Kirk knew it was Rory's. He also knew that Lorelai was forbidden to touch it. But how could she resist? It had long flooshy sleeves, it was part cashmere. And it looked a thousand times better on her, any day.
Her. It had always been her. Was always her. Would always be her. Forever and ever, world without end.
She was flipping her hair over her shoulder now, and held up her cup, pouting.
--
Kirk is walking down the sidewalk, his shoes snapping against the hot cement. On days like today, even the shade is seeking shade, and Taylor has given up, if only for today. Kirk has been walking since seven thirty this morning. It is too hot to stay still, but when he walks he creates a breeze. Mother never has believed in air conditioners. Kirk has lived in Stars Hollow all his life, and not once has he seen litter on the ground, or garbage on the curb a day early. Today he sees something he has never before seen. The sprinklers are on in the Gilmore front lawn, and Rory and Lorelai are jumping through them. Lorelai shrieks when a jet hits her.
--
He had been in love once before. Fourth grade, but he didn't remember her anymore. She smelt nice, and coloured inside the lines and she hadn't returned his affections. She ran away when he tried to kiss her. Sometimes, he has discovered, it is worth waiting.
--
She has come in, panicked. "Luke! Luke! Luke, dammit!" she yells, and this isn't the first or last time either. She does the same thing when her drains clogs, when her fire alarm starts in the middle of the night and she doesn't know how it turns off. This time she is panicked.
"Are you trying to scare my customers away?" he answers angrily, coming from the back. He sees her face.
"Have you seen Rory?"
"No, where is she?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?" Kirk watches her as her eyes sweep the diner, as if Rory might be hiding under the table.
"You lost her?" Luke explodes, banging down the plates he is holding. "When?"
She waves her hands around vaguely. "Fifteen minutes ago?" Kirk isn't sure it that is a question or an answer.
Luke bangs his fist on the counter, attracting even more attention. "Hey! If a seven year old comes in, long brown hair, name's Rory, don't let her leave." He grabs Lorelai's arm, and they run out in a hurry. Down the street, he can still hear them calling her name.
Kirk stabs a piece of pancake and puts it in his mouth. He is hurt. Lorelai should have known to ask him first. He knows all the places a seven year old could hide.
--
Kirk knows all about watching. At the tender age of fifteen he realized, and has since come to terms with, the fact that he will be alone forever. Now, her silvery laugh is reverberating inside the diner, and she is under the loving scrutiny of the entire world. With good reason. Lorelai is full of life, and wit, and everything those brown paper packages seem to hold. But she certainly isn't wrapped up in brown paper, or tied up with string. Size isn't what counts, but Lorelai is equipped in all departments. Sometimes he catches her hiding from herself, but she's good at covering it. Maybe under the colourful wrapping, she is coated with newsprint, but she will never admit it, least of all to herself. He wonders if she knows. Kirk contents himself with watching.
--
"Happy Birthday Kirk!" Lorelai sang, busting into the diner, catching him unawares. He took the offered gift cautiously, seeing Rory peer anxiously over her mother's shoulder.
"Lorelai, what did you do now?" Luke yelled from the back, after Kirk uttered a small scream.
"Oh, nothing special, just got my good friend Kirk the most spectacular birthday present in creation," she boasted loudly. "Oh! I forgot the card!" she said sadly, and Rory pulled it from her bag and hands it to him. Kirk was still looking through the bag of "Cat Kirk" supplies. Cat toys, a cat collar, cat treats (shaped like fish), a scratching post (shaped like Kirk's head) a cat litter scoop, a cat care book. Lorelai grinned like the Cheshire cat when he read the card. On the front was a crudely drawn picture of a cat with a bubble that said Meow. Inside 'Hope Your Birthday Is Purr-fect!'. Rory had signed from both herself and her mother.
--
He came close to telling her twice, or once if he's completely honest with himself. He would have, could have, should have, but then she would have stopped smiling. Her jeans are impossibly tight.
--
"Oh Kirk!" she breaths, and her breathe hands in the crisp night air. He wears a cape, but neither notice. They have eyes, as they say, only for one another.
"Lorelai," he starts, grasps her small hands between his much larger ones.
"No Kirk," she says, and looks down. "I do not deserve your love..." and she pulls away. When there is no reply, her heart breaks.
"Goodbye Lorelai," Kirk says bravely, and wakes up.
--
Kirk runs his hand over his vest again, a nervous habit, and Lorelai glances over at him. She smiles when she catches his eye.
-FIN-
Please review!
I'll be the first to admit that I lied. I know that I said I would never write another "non-parody", but I couldn't help myself. I've been writing this for nearly three months, and I think it's finally ready. I'm not expecting a great turnout with the reviews, because most readers tend to only read one type of story, one pairing. So, in advance, thank you for giving this story a chance.
About the "Part Two in the Unwritten Couple Series" thing: you DO NOT need to read the first part or the third part. They are totally unrelated stories, and only the theme is the same.
One more thing: please don't put this on your site without telling me. One day I was surfing around and I found 'Part 1' on three or four other web pages. You can have it, but have the decency to mention it to me.
I think that about covers it, thank you very much.
With all due respect,
authors-anonymous
---
The bell tinkles, and Kirk looks up. Bouncing in, as only she can accomplish in five inch heels, Lorelai scatters a mountain of bags on the floor and sits, daintily, at the counter. Doe-eyed, she waits for Luke to pour her coffee, before launching into a tirade about 'some hussy who tried to take the last pair of black suede boots. The only ones-' she stresses, 'in my size.' But she showed her. Grinning, she bites into a donut and waits for Luke to yell about the purchases littering the floor. He does, in good time, and she bites her lip and dangles a shoe off one foot.
Absently Kirk runs his hand over his sweater vest, down his polyester- cotton blend pants. She is perched on a stool, maroon handbag lazily hung from one arm, coffee cup at her lips. She stops chattering when Rory arrives, thumping down a bag the size of Mongolia. Luke pours more coffee, but can't take his eyes off her.
--
It is five years ago, one autumn morning. Leaves are blowing into rainbow cadences, and Lorelai comes into the diner, holding her daughter Rory's hand. "Mom, can I go to Lane's after school?" the thirteen year old asks. Kirk sits at the counter watches their upside-down reflection in his coffee spoon. There are leaves caught in Lorelai's hair and scarf. Both she and Rory are flushed, but the younger remains sensible. Lorelai looks gorgeous. As always, no surprise there. Kirk is in love with her.
--
Her phone rings, cutting crisply through the average diner noises. Rolling her eyes, she points at the sign, precisely when Luke does. Ignoring his motioning, she turns her back to him, and flips the device open. "Hello?" she asks, glancing over at Rory. "Hi Mom." She pauses, listening. "I can do that. No, I'm not doing it right now. Because I'm not at the Inn." She clenches her jaw. "Mom, if I say I'll do it, I- if you don't trust me, why don't you phone me when I'm at work? But you didn't phone me at work, you phone me on my cell phone, thus meaning that I'm not at work." She rolls her eyes at Rory. "Yes, I take it to work with me, but- no mom. Fine- hold on." Covering the mouthpiece with one manicured hand, she calls out. "Luke! I need a pen!"
"Do I look like a stationary store to you?"
Lorelai licks her lips. "Hmm, well-"
"Take the damn pen." Luke says, thrusting a blue ballpoint at her. He scurries away, intent on better things. Kirk fingers the pen in his shirt pocket through the thin fabric of his vest.
"Okay Mom, I'm back. So that was Thursday at three?" Lorelai scribbles on her napkin.
--
Kirk sits in the diner, drinks his third hot chocolate. He knows Luke is getting impatient, because he keeps throwing glances and stray comments at him. Luke thinks he is lonely. Kirk is watching outside. Lorelai and Rory are building a showman. They are good at it, if you allow marks for artistic license. It is taller than Rory, and isn't falling apart yet. He watches as Lorelai leans down and kisses her daughters nose. There are snowflakes on her eyelashes.
--
She is beautiful today, wearing black jeans and one of Rory's shirts. Kirk knew it was Rory's. He also knew that Lorelai was forbidden to touch it. But how could she resist? It had long flooshy sleeves, it was part cashmere. And it looked a thousand times better on her, any day.
Her. It had always been her. Was always her. Would always be her. Forever and ever, world without end.
She was flipping her hair over her shoulder now, and held up her cup, pouting.
--
Kirk is walking down the sidewalk, his shoes snapping against the hot cement. On days like today, even the shade is seeking shade, and Taylor has given up, if only for today. Kirk has been walking since seven thirty this morning. It is too hot to stay still, but when he walks he creates a breeze. Mother never has believed in air conditioners. Kirk has lived in Stars Hollow all his life, and not once has he seen litter on the ground, or garbage on the curb a day early. Today he sees something he has never before seen. The sprinklers are on in the Gilmore front lawn, and Rory and Lorelai are jumping through them. Lorelai shrieks when a jet hits her.
--
He had been in love once before. Fourth grade, but he didn't remember her anymore. She smelt nice, and coloured inside the lines and she hadn't returned his affections. She ran away when he tried to kiss her. Sometimes, he has discovered, it is worth waiting.
--
She has come in, panicked. "Luke! Luke! Luke, dammit!" she yells, and this isn't the first or last time either. She does the same thing when her drains clogs, when her fire alarm starts in the middle of the night and she doesn't know how it turns off. This time she is panicked.
"Are you trying to scare my customers away?" he answers angrily, coming from the back. He sees her face.
"Have you seen Rory?"
"No, where is she?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?" Kirk watches her as her eyes sweep the diner, as if Rory might be hiding under the table.
"You lost her?" Luke explodes, banging down the plates he is holding. "When?"
She waves her hands around vaguely. "Fifteen minutes ago?" Kirk isn't sure it that is a question or an answer.
Luke bangs his fist on the counter, attracting even more attention. "Hey! If a seven year old comes in, long brown hair, name's Rory, don't let her leave." He grabs Lorelai's arm, and they run out in a hurry. Down the street, he can still hear them calling her name.
Kirk stabs a piece of pancake and puts it in his mouth. He is hurt. Lorelai should have known to ask him first. He knows all the places a seven year old could hide.
--
Kirk knows all about watching. At the tender age of fifteen he realized, and has since come to terms with, the fact that he will be alone forever. Now, her silvery laugh is reverberating inside the diner, and she is under the loving scrutiny of the entire world. With good reason. Lorelai is full of life, and wit, and everything those brown paper packages seem to hold. But she certainly isn't wrapped up in brown paper, or tied up with string. Size isn't what counts, but Lorelai is equipped in all departments. Sometimes he catches her hiding from herself, but she's good at covering it. Maybe under the colourful wrapping, she is coated with newsprint, but she will never admit it, least of all to herself. He wonders if she knows. Kirk contents himself with watching.
--
"Happy Birthday Kirk!" Lorelai sang, busting into the diner, catching him unawares. He took the offered gift cautiously, seeing Rory peer anxiously over her mother's shoulder.
"Lorelai, what did you do now?" Luke yelled from the back, after Kirk uttered a small scream.
"Oh, nothing special, just got my good friend Kirk the most spectacular birthday present in creation," she boasted loudly. "Oh! I forgot the card!" she said sadly, and Rory pulled it from her bag and hands it to him. Kirk was still looking through the bag of "Cat Kirk" supplies. Cat toys, a cat collar, cat treats (shaped like fish), a scratching post (shaped like Kirk's head) a cat litter scoop, a cat care book. Lorelai grinned like the Cheshire cat when he read the card. On the front was a crudely drawn picture of a cat with a bubble that said Meow. Inside 'Hope Your Birthday Is Purr-fect!'. Rory had signed from both herself and her mother.
--
He came close to telling her twice, or once if he's completely honest with himself. He would have, could have, should have, but then she would have stopped smiling. Her jeans are impossibly tight.
--
"Oh Kirk!" she breaths, and her breathe hands in the crisp night air. He wears a cape, but neither notice. They have eyes, as they say, only for one another.
"Lorelai," he starts, grasps her small hands between his much larger ones.
"No Kirk," she says, and looks down. "I do not deserve your love..." and she pulls away. When there is no reply, her heart breaks.
"Goodbye Lorelai," Kirk says bravely, and wakes up.
--
Kirk runs his hand over his vest again, a nervous habit, and Lorelai glances over at him. She smiles when she catches his eye.
-FIN-
Please review!