"Rory!" Lorelai pulled back from Luke so quickly she backed into the wall. "You're home."

"Yeah." Rory was still staring.

"I—uh, I'd better go." Luke jerked a thumb back over his shoulder, pointing at nothing. "Back to…the diner."

"Yeah, back to the diner." Lorelai repeated, still staring at Rory. Her brain had shifted from Luke-is-a-great-friend mode to Luke-is-a-great-kisser mode to Oh-my-god-I've-been-caught-mode way too quickly, and the rest of her was trying to catch up. "Lots to do at the diner."

"Yeah, I'll go back to the diner."

Luke started to turn away, and Lorelai had the presence of mind to turn and look at him. "I'll see you later."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, eyes dark and serious. He looked at her, and at Rory, and turned to go. Lorelai realized she had no idea who he'd just apologized to.

Lorelai waited until Luke was down the steps and out of earshot before turning back to Rory.

"So," she said, pasting on her patented Fake Gilmore Smile, "you're back."

"I'm back." Rory still looked a bit stunned.

"Nice drive down?"

"I thought it wasn't official."

"Well, it's not, it's just—" Lorelai broke off, glancing back over her shoulder. "Something."

"Just something?"

"Yeah."

"I've been gone for six days and when I come back Luke has his tongue down your throat."

"Oh, stop."

"Stop what? Was that not what it looked like?"

"Rory, Luke and I are…complicated, and we both have bigger things to worry about right now."

Rory's expression darkened. "That was subtle."

"I'm not trying to be hurtful, I'm saying we have five hundred things to discuss right now and Luke is somewhere around four hundred and ninety." She stopped and they both stared for a moment, arms crossed, at an impasse. "So. How was Christopher's?"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this."

"You can't believe? You ran off to Boston and we've said fifteen words to each other all week."

"And three of those fifteen words couldn't be 'I'm dating Luke'?"

"I'm dating Luke, Rory, are you happy?"

"No."

"So do you want to bitch me out all night or do you want to talk?"

"What's option three?"

"Option three is you explain to me why you drove to Boston in the middle of the night and scared the shit out of everyone who cares about you."

"I've already explained that."

"Rory, I don't want you to think I'm not glad you're home, because I am, but running away did not make this thing any better."

"Better for who? For you? You're pissed because I didn't talk to you and you're pissed because I wasn't there at the Dragonfly and you haven't asked once whether this was the right thing for me."

"You ran away from everything, Rory, I don't understand how that could be the right thing." She shook her head. "Not for anyone."

"You're right, you don't understand."

"Oh, well, that was eloquent. Care to enlighten me, Judy Blume?"

"What do you want? I came back. I told you how hard this would be and I came back because you wanted me to and because you wanted me here. I came back." Rory's voice was at a near-yell.

Lorelai stared down at the porch, drawing in slow breaths and trying to get the throbbing in her head under control. After a long moment, she looked up, crossed the porch, and wrapped her arms around Rory.

Rory stiffened for a minute, then relaxed, pressing her face into her mother's chest, shoulders shaking with her sobs.

Rory was quiet after she got her tears under control, asking a couple perfunctory questions about the Dragonfly, then stating simply that she needed to get to bed. She went into her room only long enough to change into her pajamas, then settled in on the couch, pulling her favorite quilt up over her shoulders. Lorelai stood and watched her from the head of the stairs, trying to decide what to do, how to find her way through the mix of pain and anger and pathos. After Rory turned out the light, she sighed quietly and turned towards her room.

"Goodnight," Rory murmured from beneath the blankets.

Lorelai paused with her hand on the banister. "Goodnight."

And that had been that. Lorelai was out the door before dawn, pausing only to tuck the blankets more securely around Rory, still scrunched awkwardly on the couch. She decided to forego the morning diner ritual; Sookie would have something caffeinated and she needed get back to the Dragonfly before any of the guests checked out.

That was the only reason, she assured herself.

Rory arrived just after Michel, dark circles still showing beneath her eyes. Sookie squealed a little and embraced Rory as soon as she walked in; Rory blanched and shot Lorelai a worried look over Sookie's shoulder.

Lorelai shook her head, expression serious, and Rory gave an almost-imperceptible sigh of relief as she relaxed just enough to hug Sookie back.

Rory was eager to volunteer her services greeting guests and running backup for the too-busy phone, and Michel seemed more than happy to accept. She slipped away sometime mid-afternoon, and Lorelai decided it was a good day for an early dinner (her favorite kind) back at the house.

It was silent.

"Rory?" she called out, walking through the door. "You really shouldn't let Michel scare you off, he's pretty cocky after the whole thing with the kitchen staff. Rory?"

No answer. Lorelai bent down far enough to see the telltale light from beneath Rory's door, and the anger that had been nagging at her rushed back in full force. She leaned against the door. "Rory?"

Nothing. She knocked lightly. "You're doing an excellent Marcel Marceau impression."

"I was going for Joe Teller." The voice from the other side was dark, brittle, without humor.

It matched her own.

"You're making me regret getting Showtime." Lorelai leaned against the door for a moment longer, heard indistinct rustling, a sound like a book slipping to the floor, but no further words. Lorelai pulled herself away from the door and crossed to the answering machine. No messages. On impulse, she picked up the phone and flipped through the caller ID.

Nineteen calls from one number. Guess who.

And one call from another number; Lorelai frowned and put the phone back. She'd get over to the diner eventually. Just not right now. She had things to do right now – it would be stupid to walk all the way to the diner for dinner when she had food here and so many things to do back at the Dragonfly.

Pointless, really. Pointless and stupid.

A quick inventory of the kitchen revealed a full box of pop-tarts – smores pop-tarts, no less – and a desperate need to go shopping. One more thing for the to-do list. Lorelai wondered idly whether owning her own inn meant that she could just eat Sookie's food three times a day and never stock her own kitchen again. It wasn't a bad plan.

Lorelai ate her pop-tart dinner as quickly as she could, not even bothering to toast, then tried her luck with the door again. "I'm going back to the Dragonfly."

"Okay."

"Call me there if you need anything."

"Okay."

She leaned her weight against the door. "You might want to check the caller ID."

"Okay."

The third okay was decidedly unconvincing.

"Bye, Teller."

A mumbled "bye", and Lorelai was back to the Dragonfly.