A/N: Already posted this separately as a one-shot. Written for lauranobaka and desdemonax.

There Was A Moment

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

-Wicked, "I'm Not That Girl"

What is your problem?

His problem was that he had stood around backstage for a week hoping to see her.

His problem was that he didn't have to worry about her keeping him up when he had early deliveries the next day. His problem was that he still looked up when the bell on the door rang, hoping it was her. His problem, mostly, was that he missed her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she smelled, the feeling of waking up next to her.

She was the only damn reason he had done this. He'd had that stupid "Tradition" song in his head for days and it was her fault.

If she saw him with the kids, something would have ached inside her and made her remember that she wanted a "middle." If she saw his toolbox, she would talk to it, call it Burt, and remember that he had left it at her house once, a long time ago, when Rachel left town for the second time. If she saw the boat, it would remind her of what they had and what they had screwed up.

Luke might have been good with tools, with building sets and fixing Lorelai's locks, but he had no idea how to fix this. Maybe because he couldn't grasp what had happened. Yes, he had been irritated and left her parents' stupid vow renewal but then she had been apologizing for being crazy and saying it was over.

She didn't realize that her craziness was what he loved.

Well you have a whole house of special alone space.

Two pies, Lorelai thought as she stalked back inside her big, empty house. She wasn't sure why being alone bothered her all of a sudden. When Rory had left for Yale, Lorelai could still remember how different the house had felt. But she had gone on. She had gotten up in the mornings and went to work. So why was it different now? Why does it hurt so much, Lorelai wondered.

Her house had always been open to Luke, Lorelai realized. And now it seemed odd not to have him around, breaking in some door, falling off the roof, or crawling under the house.

But she couldn't be open with Luke. That was obvious. Their words had flown at each other in rapid fire, masking their feelings, what they really wanted to say. Lorelai shook her head, hardly believing that Luke had agreed to help with the sets. Even when she had signed them up, she figured he would protest and find a way not to do it.

And now…and now, she was glad she had chosen to make the costumes at home. Less time cooped up in a room together was probably healthier for both of them.

She glanced out of her window, scowls at the fact that he's still lurking around her yard. Finally, he walked away, closing the door and climbed back in his truck.

She cursed him as she goes back out to open the garage again, hoping the breeze will dry the stick-on flowers she had added to the walls. God, this place is ugly. She kicked at the ground, and then picks up the hair dryer, turning it back on to help the glue on the flowers dry.

She glanced down her driveway. She had been surprised to see Luke's truck in her yard moments ago, a little thrill had gone through her, and then when he got out and started talking about the play, there had been shades of their old banter, making Lorelai actually smile for the first time in days.

Where you were supposed to be. Lorelai bit her lip, realizing what Luke had really meant. He missed her. He missed her and they had stood in her blue and pink garage arguing about everything except what was really wrong. She recognized herself in that argument, that little bit of herself she had managed to salvage. Moving to the next flower on the wall, she realized she didn't want that part of herself back. She didn't want the old Luke and Lorelai, best friends for years, and all those questions about why they didn't get together.

Tears clouded her eyes and she turned off the hair dryer, jerked the cord out of the wall, and marched back inside.

Do you love me?

Do I what?

If she took a deep enough breath, Lorelai could smell Luke's aftershave. Her brain got all fuzzy and she longed to close the gap between them, slip her hand into his.

She hadn't been lying to Rory when she said she was doing better, fine even, but this, right here, was why she wouldn't ever be fine. This week she had surprised herself by getting wrapped up in work and forgetting for a few hours until her headache reminded her she needed coffee (Sookie's wasn't strong enough to last her more than a couple hours) or until she returned home and saw the still broken lock.

For 25 years…

It had only been eight years, four months and 17 days for them. When she thought back on the past 17 days, she couldn't believe they had waited eight years. Every one of those 17 days had been miserable.

Luke couldn't stand two feet from Lorelai and not look at her. But if he didn't look at her, all he could see were the pained expressions she had worn the past couple weeks, the same ones that haunted his sleep and found him awake at 3 in the morning. From Doose's, that stupid fight in her garage. Pink and blue. If she thought he hadn't caught the not-so-subtle hint…well, how couldn't he have noticed.

He had turned the words from their fight over and over in his mind. It felt all too familiar to him. This was the game they had played for years: insinuations, accusations, covering up the truths.

I thought there was a moment. There was! There was a moment!

By participating in this production, Luke thought he had made it pretty clear why he was doing it. But as he glanced at Lorelai and saw the tears in her eyes, he knew his actions weren't good enough. He had meant what he said at her parents' wedding: they needed to talk.

He just hoped they were both ready.

They weren't talking. They weren't talking and Lorelai hated it. She glanced at Luke, tears in her eyes. She didn't want them to end up as Teyve and Golde—even if they did—at least she would have had 25 years with Luke. And 25 years was all she wanted right now. Hell, all she wanted was a second chance.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was closing the gap, speaking to him swiftly, in earnest. "Luke, I'm sorry about earlier."

"We should talk." Luke spoke at the same time. He sighed.

Lorelai found it hard to breathe for a second. "Now?"

"I know how it ends." But I don't know how we end. "Let's go," Luke nodded towards the door.

"Okay," Lorelai said warily, glancing back at the stage and turning back only to find Carrie in their path. "Where are you two going?" She demanded.

"We were just leaving, Car," Lorelai said through gritted teeth. Luke glanced at Lorelai in amusement.

"It's okay," Lulu assured her softly, stepping up behind Carrie. "You two go ahead, we have things under control here." Luke took hold of Lorelai's wrist and weaved around the two women. Lorelai smiled inwardly, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Luke in admiration.

"Where are we going?" She wondered aloud as they stepped outside. It was unseasonably warm for Connecticut, but it was still cold and windy and Lorelai walked closer to Luke.

"You need coffee." He stated simply. Lorelai noticed this. It wasn't a question, it was a known fact to him. She'd been away too long, she simply needed his coffee. What he may or may not have realized was she needed him even more.

As Luke unlocked the door and switched on the lights, Lorelai realized how much she had missed this place. The bells tinkling over the door, the smell of grease and coffee, all the things she loved. She had forgotten what it was like to sit in here with Luke when it was dark outside and the town was quiet. It was familiar. And things had felt all but familiar these past couple weeks. He presented her with a mug.

"God, I missed this." She said after her first sip and the look on Luke's face was unreadable. "I missed you," she clarified softly.

"I was just…I was so frustrated, Lorelai. I was frustrated because I know I'll never fit in with your parents…"

"Neither do I," she stated simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"But it bothers me more than it does you. They don't think I'm good enough and that's just…it's really hard to deal with." Luke's expression was pained and Lorelai knew he was probably thinking of his own parents.

"That's because they don't know you," Lorelai insisted. She couldn't believe how easy this was. Maybe they just hadn't gotten to the hard part yet. Things had always been easier with Luke, except, of course, for loving him. That was the hardest thing she had ever done, but it was a part of her now. And she realized it was the same for him. "They don't know that you've taken care of me, I mean really taken care of me and Rory for years. They don't know that, Luke."

"And then there's Chris," Luke spit out.

"Yeah." Lorelai glanced down at her mug. "There is."

"I don't want you to cut him out of your life. He'll be around, Lorelai. Rory's going to get married someday, he'll be there then. Heck, he might even show up to see her graduate from Yale."

Lorelai half-laughed, even though it came out more choked. "I don't care. I don't ever want to see him or hear about him or anything."

"I want to believe you, Lorelai." Luke's eyes pleaded with her own.

Lorelai stared at him open-mouthed for a second, not believing what she had just heard. "So you don't trust me?" Lorelai sighed. "I guess—I know," she stopped and started over again. "I guess I can understand that you'd be jealous. I would be, if Nicole showed back up, but Luke you have to understand, all that was a long time ago. He's hanging onto this dream that he and my parents have had since I was sixteen. That's the problem. They still think I'm 16. They can't understand why they can't dictate my life anymore." Lorelai bit her lip and looked back up at Luke. She had always thought it was ironic, how her parents, but her mother especially, viewed Luke as not being good enough for their daughter, when really, it was the other way around. Lorelai had always been fearful of not being good enough for Luke, but now, in this moment when her gaze connected with his, she had never been more scared that it was the truth.

"I don't want you to think I don't trust you, Lorelai. I do," Luke leaned forward, placing his hand on top of hers. "I do trust you and I think that's what was scary. I let you know how I felt from the beginning, I put my…heart," he trailed off in a whisper. "When you said those things in Doose's, that was—it was all I had waited to hear all those months. I wanted to believe you, but" Luke shook his head.

"I still feel the same way, Luke. That hasn't changed."

"I just…it made me think maybe you said all those things to—because you knew that would make me stay."

"Well, if that was the case, my evil plan didn't quite come out as planned now, did it?" Lorelai shot back, an edge to her voice.

"Lorelai…" Luke said, tired. "I don't want to fight."

Lorelai nodded. "Of course I meant it. I just, I should have told you sooner. I—I expected you to read my mind and even though you're amazing, that wasn't fair for me to put that on you." She pauses, glances down at the ground. "I was trying to do what the book said." A smile spreads slowly across her face and he can't help but smile back. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks around to her side of the counter, sits next from her, letting one hand rest on her leg.

"Eight years," he exhaled.

"Eight years," she confirmed. "We waited eight years, Luke. We can't do this anymore. It's too hard." Her voice cracked and she sucked in a breath, but sat frozen, waiting for him to pull her close, to say he had missed her, that he needed her like she needed him.

"God Lorelai," he whispered, his hand running up her arm, squeezing her shoulder. "I missed you. I just, missed you," he trailed off, pulling her towards him. Lorelai breathed deeply, letting the scent of him intoxicate her. She allowed him to pull her back into his embrace and only then realized he was shaking. She softly let her fingers fall across his cheek. Luke murmured her name as his lips brushed across hers, sending those familiar shivers across her spine. The way we were.