Author's Note:
Finally, a new chapter! The story jumps ahead here, as the characters stubbornly refused to let me know what was happening for quite some time. We finally negotiated an agreement in which I would let them have about a week and a half of privacy before returning to intrude in their lives. Hopefully this will fix the writer's block.
Grammar note – Tenses have been fixed. Sorry about that.
Disclaimer : I only want to own Luke
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Other than the odd camping or fishing trip, Luke has slept in the same bed, in the same room for ten years. His father's old office is not the most elegant place to live, even in Stars Hollow, but it is home, familiar, and since the requisition of the space next door even comfortable. Nearly forty years of memories are tied up in that small room.
There, he watched his father doing the books, gradually taking over the paperwork as his father's health deteriorated. In that room he made the arrangements for his father's funeral and burial, wanting desperately to go home, but feeling incapable of facing the empty house alone. In the office, he could almost imagine his father still taking care of business downstairs. When it was all over, and he couldn't stand anymore of the town's pity, Luke had hung a "gone fishing" sign on the front door and had shut himself up in his father's office for two days, finally allowing the tears to come.
It was in that room that the decision was made to close the hardware store, to open the diner; not to leave with Rachel. A small bed, in a small room, for a small life in a small town, and it suits Luke fine. Lorelai once said that someone with a heart as big as Luke's should really have a bigger bed, but he never gave it much thought. Lorelai is always saying things like that.
***
Luke wakes with a start. The bed is wrong; that is the first thing he notices. It is far too soft, and the sheets have been starched, unlike his rumpled, straight-from-the-drier flannel at home. It takes him a few moments to realize that the warm weight over his chest is an arm, a woman's arm, judging from the nails and the delicate gold bracelet circling the wrist. Another few moments of fuzzy thought bring the realization that this is Nicole's arm, and that the strange bed is in a hotel in New York City. Comforted that he knows where he is, Luke allows the rest of the world to come into focus at a more relaxed pace.
***
Last night… Last night had been … nice. Nicole had taken him to another musical. The show wasn't really bad, but halfway through he had felt like standing up and shouting at the "eccentric, bohemian" characters to stop whining and get a real job. As they had walked back to the hotel – it was only a few blocks away – even Luke had to admit that the city was beautiful at night when the crowds had thinned. The air was a little thicker, and had an odd smell, but if you ignored that and the screeching of cabs near and far, it was nice.
They had walked in relative silence; Nicole had finally picked up on the fact that Luke liked some time to ponder a movie or play before discussing it. Luke had enjoyed the quiet, but hadn't been able to banish a nagging feeling that if he had been there with someone else – his brain refused to supply a name – the walk back to the hotel would have been delayed with kisses stolen in the night, and excited babbling. As it was, the walk went quickly. A late drink and quiet conversation tucked away in a booth at the hotel bar rounded out the evening.
***
Nicole loved the show, not surprisingly. Luke isn't quite so sure of its merit. One of the few things Luke genuinely dislikes about Nicole is her immediate acceptance of all things trendy. Life in Stars Hollow is generally shielded from the most obnoxious of the current styles, and Luke has become used to making up his own mind about things with little criticism from anyone other than Lorelai, who treats every new, exciting thing – song, scarf, movie, etc. – as a life-altering development.
***
The end of the evening, like the rest of it, had been nice. Luke had been a little nervous at first; it had been a while. Things had quickly gotten easier, and although the whole proceeding was more calm and controlled than his previous experiences, he had no complaints. Luke had been a little worried that Nicole would turn out to be one of those women who liked conversation after the fact, and was more than a little relieved when she kissed his neck, sighed contentedly, and whispered, "Goodnight."
Luke hadn't fallen asleep as easily. He had been a little worried about Jess and Rory alone in his apartment – they were having their own private movie night, preceded, he hoped, by numerous lectures from Lorelai. He had been a little worried about the diner – it had been a long time since he had let anyone else open. And he had been a little worried about himself, that he had let himself in for a world of trouble by taking his relationship with Nicole to this level.
***
It feels too comfortable, too easy to be with someone who is everything he has told himself he wanted. She is smart, determined, and generally a quiet person. Even Nicole's bouts of chatter are somehow quiet, controlled, never quite achieving the unbridled energy of Lorelai's word explosions. She has ambitions, but they don't seem to rise above making partner. Nicole has no wish to upset her world, even by amazing success. She seems almost as happy with her life as Luke is with his.
***
Luke cranes his eyes to see the clock. The LCD display is angled out of his line of sight, but he can just make out a 7 at the edge. This is later than he has let himself stay in bed for years. He can't help feeling that the day is passing him by, that there are things he ought to be doing. He tries to push the thought out of his head, but that only makes him more restless. Nicole stirs next to him, and her arm tightens around his chest. Luke sighs and tries to get back to sleep. After ten minutes he gives up. This is going to be a long day.
***
Nicole pulls up to the front of the diner despite Luke's protests that he doesn't want the entire town knowing his business. It isn't the first time she had laughed at his obsession with discretion. She just doesn't understand the nosiness of a town like Stars Hollow. Luke gets his bag out of the backseat and walks around to the driver's side. Against his better judgment, he leans in through the open window and kisses Nicole goodbye, to the accompaniment of whistles from Miss Patty and Babette, who are walking down the other side of the street.
Call me tonight? Nicole smiles invitingly.
Sure.
Luke, flushed with embarrassment, beats a hasty retreat, storming straight through the diner to the stairs, avoiding eye contact with Jess, Cesar or any of the customers. Vaguely, he wonders where Lorelai is. It is noon on Sunday. She and Rory are usually in the diner by now, starting their day with some cholesterol filled concoction of pancakes or waffles.
He barrels up the stairs to his apartment, pausing at the door to fumble for his keys, before remembering he has left them with Cesar. For the first time, he hopes Jess has ignored the daily instructions to lock the door when leaving. The door is open. Luke walks in, dumps his bag on a chair and sits down on his bed, heaving a sigh of relief. It is only noon, but Luke is exhausted.