Luke and Lorelai had been quiet some time. Luke had forgotten about the generator and Lorelai didn't bring it up. Without the computer, there really wasn't much point. Besides, she thought, she liked sitting in the dark with Luke, being quiet. It was restful.
"They're funny things, pangs, aren't they," she said, at length.
"Are we on this again?" Luke asked.
"Well, it's just that unless you notice them, you're not having them. And when you stop thinking about them, you're not having them again."
"They're like accidents that way, I guess," Luke said. "You got something you want to talk about?"
Lorelai reached for her coffee mug. "I had a fight with my dad. He said some things, I said some things, we were both mean-spirited. I felt small."
"You don't look small to me," Luke said.
She raised her eyes and smiled faintly. "Thank you," she said softly. "There's just so much going on right now—it's hard to feel like you can stand still."
"Lorelai, have you ever stood still?"
She chuckled. "When it snows, I stand still."
"So, when you feel overwhelmed, pretend its snowing."
"I can't pretend it's snowing."
"Stick your head in the freezer, you can pretend it's snowing."
"Cynic," she said.
The word hit him in the chest and put a lump at the base of his throat. "It can all work out, right?" he said suddenly. "Everything. For you, it will. I told you it would. Everything works out the way it has to, right? Right?"
"Right," Lorelai said. "I guess that's the only way it can. So that means that everything really is for the best."
"That's depressing."
"It doesn't have to be." She sipped her coffee again and reached for a donut. She took a large bite and swallowed, and after a moment, spoke again. "Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me something."
He looked at her warily. "What?"
"Promise me that if you feel like beating something up—anything: a parked car, a computer, Taylor, yourself—you'll take a minute, do something else. Call me. Take a walk. Take a breath. Go fishing. Do something. You have to stop beating at things. You've got to let the pangs sit in your stomach a while," Lorelai said. "Otherwise, you're going to be all… festery. Unhappy."
"You don't think I'm unhappy all the time?" he asked.
"Luke, come on. I think you like being cranky, but I've never thought you were unhappy before. Before," she repeated. "Look at us, here, we're having a conversation, we're ripping off the band-aids and exposing the wounds, and we're not bleeding to death, you haven't vanished into vapor or spontaneously combusted. See? It's possible to talk things out."
"And entirely uncomfortable," he said.
"Promise?"
He took the donut from her hand and took a bite, swallowing thickly. "I'll… try."
Lorelai grinned. He felt rewarded. "See? That's something." She looked at him side-long, resting her chin on her right shoulder. "All you can do is try."
He regarded her a long moment, and feeling himself start to color yet again, he looked past her towards the window. "The rain's stopped," he said. He rose and the lights flickered, flickered, and stayed.
"Hail Jesus!" Lorelai put her hands up and Luke, grasping them in his, pulled her to her feet. She looked ridiculous, he thought, in those clothes, and young. Her face was bare of make up; with her hair damp and curling from the rain, he imagined how she must have looked when she was Rory's age. Then and now, she was lovely. But that was a thought too big for the moment, and he was still tired.
Lorelai stretched. "I should go. My clothes—"
"I'll bring them by when they're dry." He shrugged out of his flannel and handed it to her. "Take this for the walk."
"But Luke! What will everyone say if they see you without your protective outerwear? You're practically naked!"
"It's been lovely sharing this moment with you, Lorelai; we should do this less often."
"Oh, come on, you big lug. You love me."
He turned and walked towards the door. "Come on, I'll walk you home."
"What about the diner?"
"The diner's closed tonight. I'm going to spend the evening getting drunk with Harvey. Reminisce about old times," Luke said.
"I hear Harvey's hard core. Tries to pick up hookers in the square," Lorelai said.
"I'll alert Taylor." He paused. "No, I really won't."
They walked through the diner, and Luke sent Caesar home, turned off the lights, and lead Lorelai out the door. She turned to him as they walked, wrapping his shirt about her tightly. She sighed lightly. "I haven't thought about the inn for almost this entire time. That was good." She smiled. "Hey, what, do you suppose, Stars Hollow does when the power goes out?"
"I know Kirk sits in the corner of his room at his mother's house, tucked in the fetal position, wailing like a kitten. It's attractive."
"Taylor uses his night vision goggles to spy on the neighbors!"
"And entertains himself the whole time."
"Ew, Luke. That's almost too dirty for a 'Dirty!'"
He thought about it. "I really have to agree. And I really wish I hadn't said it."
"I know. Say something else."
"Panties."
Lorelai laughed, grabbing his arm and tucking it in her own, leaning against him slightly. "Say it again!"
"Never."
"They're still in your sink, you know."
"Why are we still talking about panties?"
Lorelai laughed again, pointing at him. "You brought it up."
"Work, Lorelai, you're lots of work." He looked at her sidelong. "Will I ever win?"
She smiled up at him, and in the dim of the evening, he felt something within him swell, some sense he'd forgotten. "Oh, Luke. Keep the faith. Some day."
"Some day," he repeated.