As The TV Screen Flickers

Summary: Luke, a television set, and the thoughts that haunt him.

AN: Yes, I know, this topic's been done to death long ago. I tried to resist, I really did, but I usually find it best not to ignore my muse when it deigns to speak to me. No spoiler's, but it's set between "Say Something" and "So…Good Talk". Read, enjoy, & if you wish – say something!

Disclaimer: The Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. Never will. Never have.


He knows he should be sleeping; he wants to be sleeping, but his mind refuses to comply. He stares into the liquid darkness of his room and tries to think about calm and boring things; sheep and orders and yesterday's receipts.

Nothing works.

Reluctantly, he grabs the remote and brings the TV to life. But even the shopping network can't fool his body into the oblivion of sleep.

He should have known it would end up like this. Him alone in a big, empty bed. Her, well, who knows where she is now; he hasn't seen her in days. Maybe she's with Rory; maybe she's run off to him, or maybe she's still holed up alone in her house. He's not sure he likes any of those options.

This was what they'd been afraid of. They'd spent years dancing around each other, pretending there was nothing more between them than friendship. Both of them were so sure that if they acted on their feelings it would never work out. At least, that's the way he felt, and he's pretty sure she felt the same. There was always a subtle hesitation in her voice, in her eyes, whenever they'd get too close, and it was invariably enough to make him step back. It was like there were giant warning signs flashing above her head. A siren-like voice repeating 'Don't do it!' and so he wouldn't. It was better to be friends than nothing at all.

Then like an idiot, he'd bought that book and saw her face and threw his sanity out the window. He got into his truck, drove out to the inn, and asked her to his sister's wedding. She said yes. Surprisingly, amazingly, she said yes, and while it later occurred to him that she probably hadn't realized what she was saying yes to, she still said it.

For a while it was good. For a while, it seemed that the fairy tale would come true. The flirting and laughter didn't stop. They'd shared countless kisses and even the occasional dance. They'd had a million conversations about nothing. He built her a skating rink and she rescued his boat. And to Luke it was everything and nothing like he'd thought it would be. Even that first night when he took her to Sniffy's, he hadn't expected it to end with her leading him up the stairs above the diner. He thought she'd run screaming when he gave his 'all in' speech, but she didn't. That's the first time he believed that this thing between them might work. That it might finally be right. It felt right. Her hand against his chest. Her brown curls spread across his flannel pillowcase. Her warm body nestled in beside him….

Abruptly, he changes the channel to the weather, willing his mind to stop thinking about her. For a while it seems to be working as he focuses on the current conditions in Rio de Janeiro and other far-flung places. The clouds sweep across the satellite pictures of the earth and the forecaster drones on in a relentless monotone. His eyes begin to feel heavy and he slumps further into his pillow with a sigh. The forecast changes to the local weather and he half hears the words 'clouding over' and 'cooler air mass' and 'snow'. His eyes shoot open. Snow. Dammit. She loves the snow.

He thinks about her dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night to go outside and stare at the sky. She wanted to share the moment with him and all he could do was complain.

He wonders when it all started to go wrong. If it was that moment standing out in the snow or if it started sooner than that. Did he get too comfortable? Did they fall into a rut too fast, too soon?

From the start, he wanted to believe that what they had was special; that he was special. He could see her making room for him in her life and he knew that it was something new for her. He tried to follow her example, but wasn't easy. They both had boundaries they needed to learn. She had to adjust to his early nights and lack of romanticism. He had to let go of some of his secrets, the places in himself he always hid. Although it wasn't perfect, it was what it was. Actions, actions were supposed to speak for themselves.

Stupid television, he thinks, flicking through the channels rapidly. Stupid actions. Actions don't tell you much. You can guess what they mean, but you never know for sure. Stupid doubts. He tried to suppress them, but they couldn't be held back forever. After all, a lifetime of pessimism didn't disappear just because he was dating Lorelai Gilmore.

It started with a simple omission, a lack of thought of consequence. A lunch with her daughter and her daughter's father, and that father's other daughter. Maybe she really didn't think it meant anything. Maybe it didn't, but he saw it as something else. Family. Lorelai's family, however odd the combination, it was the one she'd dreamed of for years. He tried not to be the jealous boyfriend. He tried to trust her. It was so easy to fall under her spell when she'd smile that shy and secret smile at him. There was too much at risk not to believe her when she said it was nothing. He wanted it to be nothing.

Even before her parent's overdone wedding, or vow renewal, or whatever it was, he'd felt uneasy. There was nothing specific, just a nagging suspicion that there was more going on beneath the surface. And then there was the blowout and Rory and Christopher and Lorelai standing there gaping at the fallout. He couldn't get his head around it all, especially the lie.

Maybe he should have let her talk. She probably would've chased all his doubts and fears away. But he just couldn't listen, not then, not right away. He was overwhelmed by a sensation of falling, spiraling wildly out of control, without knowing when that last sickening thud would come. The only way he could react was to retreat.

He wants to believe that this time it will be different. That if he only tries harder, things between them can be mended. But even as he completes that thought another one comes to him: 'For how long?' it whispers menacingly. He's sure that one of these days she'll wake up and disappear for good. It's what he's come to expect from the people he loves. However wrongly, it's what he's come to expect from her.

No, it's better for both of them to just let go. They tried and they failed and that's all there is to know.

He rubs his forehead with his fingers, knowing he's lying to himself. He doesn't believe that. There's too much unfinished business between them, so much they've yet to learn about each other. He wishes he'd kept his mouth shut when she cornered him in Doose's. He wishes he hadn't let Christopher or her parents or her desperate rambling get to him. But he did and there's no way of taking it back now.

The images flash across the screen as he flips through the channels, his mind barely registering what he sees before he moves on to something else. News, sports, talk shows; the images blur and meld into one. All he can see is her face and the look of heartbreak in her eyes as she silently handed him the tape from his answering machine.

And instead of reaching out and grabbing her like he wanted to, he let her walk away. Luke Danes: a stubborn fool to the last. He's afraid that he's left things too long. He's afraid he's too late.

With a sigh, he focuses back on the television.

He doesn't want it to be too late.