Spontaneity
Pairing: Luke & Lorelai
Genre: Romance
Setting: Nothing in particular. After Max, after Rachel. Before Nicole, before Alex, no Sherry.
Summary: No one would dub Luke spontaneous. No one would dub Lorelai well planned. So why is it Luke who kisses Lorelai in the middle of an argument, and not the other way 'round?
Note: (A) Wow, I really like the beginning of this chapter, the 'subtext' part. Love it.
(B) I've got a vague idea of where it will go, but plot suggestions are welcomed, and I thank everyone who gave me some help with Melissa, I used some of your ideas. (But you have to read the chapter to find out which ones I did…)
(C) I just realized that I had intended on bringing Jess into this story, and probably Chris, but that it didn't end up happening. Hmmm… If you wanna read a fic with Jess n Chris, check out my 'Not Prince Charming' XP
(D) I really love writing Sookie. She's so fun.
Disclaimer: The usual. I don't own nothin' so don't sue.
Spontaneity
Chapter 3: SubtextOne theme of post-modernism is the idea that all things have an underlying meaning. 'Everything is not what it seems,' rings true in its philosophy and, subsequencely, its architecture and art. Layers of meaning, sometimes referred to as 'truths,' were a standard feature of post-modernism. Stars Hollow and post-modernism may have something in common.
When Kirk says 'I don't want cherry pie,' he doesn't just mean he doesn't want cherry pie. It means he wants some other sort of food item, or perhaps beverage, but he won't say it out-right. When Miss Patty comments that a new man in town 'isn't all that bad looking,' she means that he's got a six pack and isn't afraid to use it. Many people refer to is as subtext.
Stars Hollow folk are only average people, of average intelligence. Most don't realize that they look for subtext, or that when they speak they hope others will catch their own subtext. But whether or not they act out of conscious or subconscious, they act all the same. And so a resident of Stars Hollow can go a day without saying what they mean, and that same day with everyone understanding.
But the problem occurs when the layers of truth are more or less than two. A general simpleton will hold two truths: what they say, and what they mean. It is when what they mean varies to interpretation, or when someone tricky comes along and says exactly what they mean, that trouble can occur.
When Lorelai says 'You look good' to Luke, what exactly does she mean? When Luke says 'I missed you' to Lorelai, what exactly does he mean? And when Lorelai flirts with Luke, and Luke flirts back, is it possible that it holds no more truth than that they want to be with each other?
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Still in her Chilton uniform, Rory walked into the Independence Inn kitchen without the normal swagger in her step. She had considered briefly coming bearing gifts – food, beverages, and the sorts – but Sookie was the chef. Sookie was frying something delicious as Rory walked in.
"Hey, sweetie. How's Chilton?"
"Well," Said Rory half-heartily, "I'm not dead yet." She sat on the same stool her mother had two days ago, and Sookie recognized the strong resemblances in character. Rory dropped her bag heavily to the ground. "Where's Mom?"
Sookie added chives to the frying pan, engrossed in the cooking. She waved her hand at some area of the kitchen, undeterminable to Rory or herself. "Coffee machine broke." Rory muttered a sound of understanding, before continuing onto the reason of her visit.
"You know," she said, "Mom's been acting a little weird lately, don't you think?"
Unfortunately, Sookie couldn't respond. While added chives, Rory had spoken, which had upset the exact amount of chives needed. Sookie had, of course, saved the meal by quickly extracting the herbs with a well-placed finger. However, by saving the meal, she had burned the tip of several fingers, and had rushed over to the tap, soft yelps barely being heard above the sizzling meal.
"Uh, Sookie?"
The chef looked up from the sink, "Oh, I'm fine. Don't worry, I'm fine." Her fingertips were bright red as she moved back to the frying pan. "Lorelai? No, I don't think so."
"I think," Rory persisted, "That is has something to do with Luke. I mean, first she didn't want to go to the diner, and now she's acting a bit sullen."
Sookie giggled, "Luke?" She picked up an abandoned wooden spoon, "Lorelai?" and started to stir in the chives. "They've got it in for each other. I mean, it's years now that they've been friends, and they're completely naïve about each other!" She continued to giggle.
Sometimes, Rory thought, Sookie can be frustrating. "I know," She explained calmly, "But I think something's happening between them." Sookie didn't respond. "Did you know that Luke went out on a date last Friday night?"
Sookie practically jumped at the questioned, luckily not scalding any more body parts. "Wow! Luke is getting out and around. That's great!" The depressing look on Rory's face threw Sookie off a little. "Uh, not so good? … Look, Hon, I know you want your mom to be happy, but Luke's been waiting a long time, he deserves a break, don't you think?"
She sat, for a moment, on the stool, thinking it out.
Rory didn't entirely believe that she was just looking out for her own mother. Something bad always seemed to happen to Luke when other women were involved. Whether not 'other women' included Lorelai was unsure of.
--
Luke's Diner was full. It was a common occasion for Lorelai to curse a full diner – seats taken by people other than Stars Hollow folk. She glanced nervously at another woman she didn't recognize. The woman was pretty, with long brown hair tied back in a braid. But then there was the pretty woman sitting in the back, with black hair in pigtails. And the woman who had amazingly blue eyes, but not a particularly pretty face. She sighed, exasperated.
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, there was a spare stool at the counter. Luke was nowhere to be seen, but he always moved back to the counter eventually. Lorelai sat still, biding her time.
Finally Luke emerged from the door at the back of the diner. Over his head was a plate of fries, and behind him was a slightly timid looking Asian woman, of black hair and dark, dark eyes. Two words seemed to echo loudly in Lorelai's head, from somewhere deep in her unconscious. They held much more knowledge than their face.
That's her.
Despite her bowed head, which added to her timid look, it was obvious she was happy. A smile played across her lips, which could not be hidden by the black hair falling all over her face. Someone needs to get this girl a hair tie, thought Lorelai viscously. A hair tie, however, would have let more of her features been shown. Lorelai thought briefly if it had been done on purpose.
After Luke had delivered the fries to a table, he walked back to behind the counter, eyeing Lorelai suspiciously. The Asian girl of question didn't follow, but instead sat down at the same table as the fries.
As soon as Luke resided in front of Lorelai, she spoke. "Coffee please." Her hands were outstretched, which was not looked kindly upon from Luke. However, despite Lorelai's surprise, he got her coffee. Quickly.
She looked at the cup in her hands. "Uh…" Her eyes darted from the coffee to Luke. Then from Luke back to coffee. "That's it?" She said incredulously. "No lecture? No surly comment?" Her mouth lay slightly agape. She looked from the coffee to Luke, and back again.
"I'm in a good mood."
From the outside you probably wouldn't notice Luke was in a good mood. He was still frowning, like always; he still had a slightly aggressive stance, like always; even his words were said with spite, like always. Lorelai looked slightly confused, but then, as she accepted it, more and more angry.
"Ah," she said knowingly, which was, in fact, the opposite of how she felt. "Asian girl givin' ya some?"
"Asian girl?" Luke looked at her as if she were crazy. She considered the possibility.
Lorelai sputtered, "Uh… You know…" She looked around the diner, but suddenly was unable to point out the Asian woman. "That… That girl. Who went into the back with you? Uh…"
Luke turned so his back was to Lorelai. "Anita?" He questioned, in a deadpan voice. "You mean the girl who comes here every Wednesday, waiting for some boy?"
Turning around, Lorelai glanced for the Asian girl again. "So… That still doesn't explain why she was in the back with you."
His eyebrows rose, not quite sure why Lorelai was so curious about the ordeal. "The boy stood her up. Poor guy, girl's got a temper – and a voice."
With a slightly aghast expression, Lorelai mocked. "Wow. I can totally see it now: Dr. Luke, helping with girl troubles." She laughed at him, suddenly coming to a stop as he glared at her angrily. Her head bowed, sipping the coffee he had so willingly given.
Luke's eyes were normally darting during rush hour. Customers constantly need attention; whether it is of food, drink, or spillage. It was what kept him busy all day, and had been doing so for years. But as his eyes darted from the top of Lorelai's head, to the brunette girl walking into the diner, it was not because of business.
"Just a sec…" He walked away from Lorelai, towards the door. It was not the fact that he moved away the perturbed Lorelai, but the fact that he mentioned it. With customers he just left her, always coming back. But to say that he was moving away; that was something new.
Her head twisted, looking at his figure walking to door, meeting another figure – a woman figure – with a light kiss. Lorelai's eyebrows shout up in amazement.
The woman had brunette hair, tied back roughly with a hair tie. She was of average height – perhaps a little short – and had to get on her tiptoes to reach Luke's mouth with her own. Her jeans were large, and baggy, while her top was three-quarter length, and held a picture of horse, rearing up on its back legs. Lorelai scrutinized.
Luke sat Melissa at an empty table – the last empty table – and walked back to the counter, in front of Lorelia. He averted Lorelai's gaze, grabbing a mug and coffee pot, and moving back to Melissa quickly. Lorelai's mouth was left slightly agape.
He had wanted to sit down with Melissa. It would've been nice, possibly even comfortable, as he was in his natural environment. However, there were several things to consider. The diner was extremely busy, customers waving him down every few minutes. Kirk was sitting at a table in the corner, and Luke caught him winking. And then there was Lorelai, sitting at the counter, obviously curious as to his going abouts.
Sighing, he said a few choice words to Melissa, moving cautiously back to the counter. "Don't. Say. A. Word."
Lorelai looked at Luke, every intention of not making a joke about it. Because joking about it would show that she was nervous, and her hands, wrapped tightly around the coffee mug, were already making a show of that.
"You know," She said, standing up and paying for the coffee. "I really should start getting these to go."
As she walked out of the full diner, Melissa catching glances of what she looked like, Luke frowned. He thought about what the statement really meant, and his frown deepened. She was leaving.
--
It was the second time that week that Lorelai was walking towards Luke's Diner late at night, wrapping her jacket close around her. She wasn't exactly sure why she was going, why she fed Rory an excuse about coffee and Danishes and other untruthful things. But Luke had looked so disappointed when she left, and perhaps something deep inside her thought that they could patch up whatever they were ripping. That perhaps his silence said more than his words.
Once again he was alone, in the process of clearing tables, and wiping counters. This time there was no goofy comment from Lorelai, no deadpan, regretful answer from Luke. The silence was cruel, as it had been last time, but it was unsure whether talk would be better.
The coffee machine was still on, something that both Lorelai and Luke wondered about. It was Luke, oddly enough, who decided that anything was better than silence. "To go?" He said, motioning at the coffee machine.
It hit her hard – the harshness in his voice, the meaning of the question. She sat at the closest table. It was the table Melissa had sat at – perhaps Luke, too, after Lorelai had left.
"Uh… No, I, I think I'm good. Uh, okay. I think I'm okay." She stuttered; it seemed all to often that she was rendered speechless in front of Luke. "So," She started, not quite sure of what she was going to say, but certain that talking was a necessity. "How's Dr. Phil doing in training you?" The right tone for the joke was there, but it wasn't in her eyes. It wasn't in her heart.
He continued to pick up salt- and peppershakers, wiping under them. "He's now moved me up to actual physiological dissertations. Interesting stuff." Lorelai laughed; not because it was funny – it wasn't – but, like her joke, it was necessary. The laugh echoed out, sounding hollow as the silence tried to fight its way back into their presence.
"So," She started again, Luke wondering if it was another joke. "Was that Melissa, today, in the diner? Uh, here?"
It is then that Luke looks at Lorelai, holding a lock of eyes for several seconds, before dropping them. Only after they drop, does he reply. "Yeah."
She pauses briefly, thinking about the brunette hair, the stylish clothes, and the kiss on the cheek. "She seemed nice."
"She is." He didn't look up. He rarely did, anymore, thought Lorelai briefly.
The silence began to run on their heals again. And she hated it. Hated that she couldn't sit there, be quiet, and be comfortable. That she had to talk – say anything – to stop the foggy silence drifting down on them, and separating them.
But there it was. The silence, how it kept chasing them and breaking them apart, said much more than any of the words they used trying to keep it away. And she hated it.
Luke continued wiping. He was, in fact, just as uncomfortable as Lorelai, but he could move. He could wipe and wash and clean the diner. So it was when Lorelai racked her brains for something to talk about that she came up with the only thing on her mind: Melissa.
"Did you sleep with her?"
Luke flinched, only slightly, at the question. Yet he continued what he was doing – moving helped – and replied emotionlessly. "We've been through this before." He glanced up at Lorelai soundlessly, only for a moment, to see her immediate reaction.
"Exactly. And last time you didn't answer."
Something inside Luke turned then. He was not content with the moving and the avoidance. Like a match being lit, he slowly and steadily began to heat up – not quite alight, but extremely close. He stopped wiping. "What do you want to know, Lorelai?" He said angrily, Lorelai being extremely taken aback.
"Well, uh, you know," Cursing her stuttering, she tried to continue, "I, well, you, you seem pretty quiet about the whole thing. I mean, you haven't really said anything, uh, about, um, her, and, well, you know…"
"God Lorelai! You've got a lot of nerve, you know?" He pointed an accusing washcloth at her, now standing up to his full height, ashes flickering with fire. "You come in here, demanding about a woman I'm seeing. I never ask about your dates! You always do this! You always do this."
It was a rare occasion that Luke would get angry. Lorelai was scared by it. "Hey, I was just asking –"
"No!" He said loudly, bursting in flames. "You see! You're completely naïve that you're even doing this! What do you want to know about her, Lorelai?" His voice rose, lifting the silence. And suddenly the silence seemed very welcoming. "That she doesn't tell jokes all the time? That she's not very outgoing?" He got louder. "That she's in the filming business? That she's got poor parents, and survives in the big city?" Louder, still, rising in stance.
There was an unspoken phrase, something that Luke was saying as he continued to shout. She isn't like you.
"That she loves sport," He continued, shouting so the sounds echoed around the diner loudly. "Hates tight cloths, rarely dates? That she isn't perfect?!"
It hung in the air, that word. Perfect. The silence dripped down on them, nothing to be heard but a sound Stars Hollow folk rarely hear, a sound of leaves rustling from the gazebo. Perfect, they thought, what is perfect? … Who is perfect?
It clung tightly to their ankles, their wrists, and most of all, their mouths. Silence. Perfection. Nothing.
At one point they recognized each other's breaths, the only other sound. Luke's; heavy and ragged and quick. Lorelai's; softer and sort and racing. Silence. Perfection. Nothing.
"I –" Lorelai stopped before she could start, shuffling around in a pocket for coins. It was curious that she thought she had a coffee mug in front of her; that her mind was still in the norm of most other days. The coins clanked against each other, dropping onto the table with a loud bang.
Halfway to the door, Lorelai stopped. Spontaneously she spoke, softly, barely heard over the coins, still clattering to a stop on the table. "You never really asked." It hung in the air, waiting for judgment. "I didn't think you cared."
She walked away. Away from the short meeting of two old friends, not knowing exactly what was left behind in emotion. But knowing the physical that she was leaving. She was leaving a silence, hanging thick in the air, several coins, still chattering quietly against at the countertop, and one warm, comforting, imaginary coffee mug.