5.03 Written in the Stars scene additions. I do not own these characters or the lines I have gratefully borrowed from Amy Sherman-Palladino. It is only homage.
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At Lorelai's front step, after Luke hands her into the truck....
"We'll get better at this..." she laughed nervously through the window.
"Yeah," he responded quickly.
She let out a deep breath then and watched him as he hurried around the front of the truck and got in.
She placed a hand on his forearm then as he switched the ignition on.
"Hey," she said gently.
He looked over at her. At her sort of all-over glow in the reflected porch light. At her small smile.
"Hey," he repeated, just as softly, as they looked at one another.
"I'm so glad that we..."
"Me too..."
"I mean... Finally! Here we are," she laughed a little.
"Here we are," he agreed, very aware of her hand on his arm.
They looked at each other a moment longer until one, or both, (it doesn't really matter which) leaned in for a soft brief kiss.
She sighed as she pulled away, more relaxed and more aware of him at the same time.
"That was nice," she breathed before adding with a smile, "Do you think we'll survive this night?"
"I have to second the 'nice' part," he said and took a deep breath of his own, "And I think we're both going to do much better than survive," he added with a wink.
She smiled back, glad to re-connect just like they always did. And anyway, where was it written that they shouldn't? Shouldn't be like always. Only better now, she thought with a smile.
"So, where are you taking me?" she asked as he shifted the truck into gear.
"It's killing you not to know, isn't it?" he laughed.
"Oh no, I am perfectly prepared to be patient and wait for the surprise. Good things come to those who wait."
"God, I hope so," he intoned.
"It has been a long, hard, hot summer," she flirted.
"You have no idea," he returned.
She smiled at that too.
"So? Where again are you taking me?" she asked.
"Why don't you just play with the radio and mock my pre-set stations until we get there? That ought to occupy you. Make the time go faster."
"Oh, you spoil me!" she smiled in delight and eagerly leaned forward to do just that.
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Seated at Sniffy's Tavern...
"....I just want you to know, I'm in. I am all in..."
She felt her stomach clench, but continued to meet his gaze and... breathe. Try to breathe anyway.
"...Does that---? ... Are you... Scared?" He'd tapped the table nervously with his finger, but held his voice steady.
And then he waited. And felt his stomach clench though he managed to continue to hold her gaze and... breathe. Try to breath anyway.
And here they were. With this moment... Both of them. With just these words between them... And when these words had been spoken with such conviction and in such a way (the voice not quite cracking, and only a slight nervous hand gesture as accompaniment)... And when it had meant and had so permeated the air and her circulatory system (her blood moving more quickly and warmly, a flush rising to her cheeks even now).... And finally, when these words made their way to her head too, she lowered her eyes briefly, before lifting them again to meet his...
"Terrified," she almost-whispered with a smile. But her eyes had met his again. And directly.
He smiled back in relief, chuckled a little, "That's okay," he assured her, "So am I. But, like I said earlier, I think we'll do much better than mere survival with this."
She nodded, scarcely letting herself believe or wonder or contemplate beyond this moment, because she just didn't do that. Not in these situations. Others, sure. She could plan for her Ivy League daughter. She could plan an Inn, an event, or when to have coffee... But she had never really thought beyond in this sort of situation. Had, in fact, never allowed herself to do so. Because in her life (before this moment, before these words,) it would have been disaster to think beyond. It had been disaster, thinking beyond.
And she absolutely could not allow disaster now. Not with Luke.
"I marvel at you," she said then after a moment. "I just... marvel at you, Luke."
He thrilled at that.
"You are so sure..." she went on.
"About you, yes, I think I am. About how I feel. But there are still... uncertainties..."
"Me?" she asked with a small smile.
"I understand that this is... newer for you," he allowed.
"So, one step at a time then?"
He nodded, "Absolutely. I just... I just needed you to know... that this is different... for me."
"This is different," she agreed, "for me too."
Luke breathed out.
There. Done. Said. The line cast. Nothing left but to sit back, and watch, and wait, and try to be aware this time of the little signs. The little signs that something was stirring beneath the water. Something elusive and silver and shining. Something worthwhile and wanted. Longed for even. He could do that. He could wait. He had waited before, only this time he had taken action first. Whatever came now there would never be regrets on this front.
Meanwhile it was a beautiful night, and here he was with the most beautiful woman he knew. In the closest place to home he had. And for now, that was more than enough.
He glanced at her again then and swallowed as she met his gaze. He took in the way her white neck curved down to the line of her breasts and disappeared into her ruffled blouse. And her uncharacteristic vulnerability in the way she moistened her lips and lowered her eyes... and smiled tenderly in that rare big-eyed way that had nothing to do with the smart-ass Lorelai he well knew was on the flip side of this coin. He marveled then too; At how he knew everything and nothing about her at once.
And where was it written that he couldn't know it all? he wondered. All of her. All of himself with her too. Why couldn't he? Why couldn't they? Just, why not?
And then he couldn't believe how happy he was, how aware of that happiness he was and how that was something that just never happened to him. Not for longer than he cared to remember at any rate.
"Lucas," Buddy interrupted their moment with a quick look over his shoulder, "I brought you your beer. Maisie'll kill me, but I couldn't let the champagne kill you first!"
They broke away then from their thoughts, and fear, and longing, and happiness too, and all that was known and unknown between them, to laugh a little.
"Thanks, Buddy," smiled Luke as the older man poured the beer into a glass for him.
"Yeah well, I say that any girl worth her salt isn't going to make a man drink champagne when there's good beer to be had," Buddy stated surely.
"Here! Here!" agreed Lorelai.
Buddy looked up at Lorelai to smile before turning to Luke again. "Looks like this one's worth her salt, Lucas. And what did you do to get one so beautiful?"
Luke lifted his hands in mock surrender, "It had nothing to do with me!"
"What had nothing to do with you?" demanded Maisie as she approached the table again, "Buddy! What is that right there?!"
"Well, that's a beer, Maisie. New to the world of beverages, are you?" He slipped a wink to Lorelai.
"I know it's a beer, Buddy. But they're on a date."
"Lorelai doesn't care," Buddy returned.
"I'm worth my salt!" Lorelai told her proudly.
"Is there any point to us placing some orders now?" asked Luke.
"Oh! Did you teach Luke how to make his heavenly hamburgers?"
"None whatsoever, Lucas. And yes, as a matter of fact I did, Lorelai. He must've burned three-hundred pounds of ground beef before getting the knack," returned Maisie blandly. "Buddy's already started your dinner, Kids, which he better get back to unless he wants to wash the dishes tonight!"
"I'm on my way!" said Buddy with a salute and hurried off.
Maisie watched him go, "Never get tired of watching that man run. Sexy!" she sighed.
Lorelai dropped her jaw then and turned to grin at Luke in delight. He chuckled and shrugged in response.
"Earth to Maisie," Luke called her out of her revery.
"Sorry Kids," Maisie turned back to them, "Didn't mean to get distracted, but with a run like that, you just gotta watch. You should have seen that man play basketball... Anyway... Now Lorelai, you're not one of these women who only eats sushi and raw vegetables, are you?"
"Did I not just mention my hamburger love? Besides, I make it a point to never eat anything that could be used successfully as bait," stated Lorelai unequivocally.
"My kind of gal," Maisie nodded approvingly before looking at Luke, "Yours too, hunh Lucas?"
"Maisie..." Luke began to protest but then changed his mind, "Yeah, mine too," he admitted and looked at Lorelai again. Still sure.
"Here's to you then, Lucas---The bravest guy I know," smiled Lorelai and lifted her glass to him.
Luke smiled and lifted his glass of beer to meet it, "I'll drink to that!"
Maisie smiled and slipped away.
"Brave, hunh?" asked Luke with a smile after they'd sipped their toast.
"Oh, absolutely," nodded Lorelai, "What you've said here tonight takes more courage than trying on bikinis in March, my friend."
"Wouldn't know about that."
"Well, trust me," Lorelai nodded authoritatively.
"I do," he assured her.
"That probably takes the most courage of all," she said just a little sadly.
"So, here you go," smiled Buddy as he sat plates of salad before them, "Main course be up in a bit."
"Buddy!" yelled Maisie from the bar, "Don't forget the rolls!"
"You'd think I'd never done this before," mumbled Buddy as he headed back to the kitchen. "Only got two hands, Maisie!" he called back as he went.
Lorelai grinned, "I love them."
"They're pretty lovable," agreed Luke as he reached for the salt and pepper, "Annoying as hell but lovable."
"I believe 'annoying as hell' is what you like best," she said knowingly, "Besides, they're your family."
Luke looked up quickly at that thought.
"Sometimes," she went on as she poked a fork into her salad, "Sometimes, it's the family you choose in this life—especially when your own are gone or are... inaccessible... Sometimes it's this chosen family that... well, that just is family, you know?" She looked at him again.
Luke cleared his throat, feeling the new emotions again, "I do. I do know," he agreed and reached his thumb over to wipe a bit of dressing off the corner of her lip.
As he pulled his hand away, she caught it with hers and discreetly licked it off.
Luke swallowed, hard.
"I'm having a wonderful time," she told him.
"Good. Me too," he agreed. "And wait until you see the dessert tray," he said as he took a calming breath and returned to his salad, "You're going to be a very happy woman."
"Is that your secret plan? To ply me with dessert?"
"Yep."
"Yeah, that should work," she nodded approvingly, "Dessert on top of that horoscope thing. Napoleon would admire such strategy."
"I like to be prepared," he agreed with a humble shrug.
"That's my brave little Boy Scout."
"Soup's on!" said Buddy brightly as the waitress by his side swept away their salad plates. Buddy replaced them immediately with steaming platters. "There. Let me know if you want something else. Did you say Boy Scouts just now, Lorelai? We tried to get Lucas here to join when he was a kid, but he wouldn't. Said it was a paramilitary organization. And fascist. Nine years old. You were the damndest kid." he said to Luke then.
"Oh! Do you have any pictures?" asked Lorelai with an eager smile.
"Well," Buddy scratched his chin, "Let me think..."
"No. He doesn't," said Luke with determination.
"Oh come on, Buddy," wheedled Lorelai, "Just a snapshot or two?"
"Oh, maybe one from that Halloween party we had for the kids that time. Do you remember that, Luke? That was the year before..."
"Before my mother died," finished Luke. "I remember."
"Did you dress up?"
"Of course he did, all the kids did.... I'm just trying to remember what you were... We must have a picture somewhere... I'll have to ask Maisie," he said thoughtfully.
"Don't you have some customers to cook for?" grumped Luke.
"Keep thinking, Buddy!" said Lorelai merrily.
"Maisie!" called Luke a little desperately as she walked nearby.
"Buddy, come away from there! Let those kids alone. They're on a date."
"Well, sorry Lorelai. I've been caught."
"That's okay, Buddy. Some other time," she smiled as he hurried away.
Luke eyed her, "Don't start," he warned.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she told him sweetly.
"Ummhmm."
"Luke," she said as she looked down at her plate.
"What?"
"My hamburger is roast beef."
"That's okay. So's my salmon."
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"Ah, Geez. Will you let it go already..." said Luke later as they made their way back down the highway in the truck.
"Mr. Spock! You were Mr. Spock!" she repeated in gleeful disbelief.
"Lorelai, I was nine years old."
"Mr. Spock. And not just any Mr. Spock. First season green Mr Spock."
"I'll have you know that my mother worked very hard on that costume," he informed her.
"I could tell. The way the little doubleknit black pants flared 'just so' mid-calf. Very authentic."
"Ah, Geez..."
Lorelai laughed and Luke had to smile a little at the sound of it.
"Hey, do you want coffee?" he asked with a sideways glance.
"Always," she assured him.
"The diner?"
"The diner," she nodded happily.
"Oh crap, I just remembered..."
"What?"
"Football practice night."
"Oh, right. Diner chock full of hormones."
"And nickle tippers," he groused.
"Poor Lane."
"We could... go upstairs..." he offered and looked over at her again.
She grinned, "Napoleon is looking down in sheer admiration at your maneuvers tonight, Mr. Danes."
"I didn't.. Lorelai, I didn't mean..."
"The horoscope. A five pound chocolate dessert. Coffee. And then arranging for the entire highschool football team to have practice on this specific night before coming to fill up your diner and eat fries... Genius... All just to get little old me up into your apartment."
"Yeah, you've found me out all right."
"You really didn't have to work so hard, you know," she told him.
"Oh really?"
"Oh yeah, I would have come upstairs just to see your non-existent etchings.."
"I see..."
"Or, what's that other old one? Watch the submarine races...?"
"Ha. Ha." he responded drily.
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It was a sort of meeting of minds. Or hearts maybe. More likely libidos, but by the time they had crossed the Stars' Hollow town line they were both silent. Not uncomfortably so. Not at all. Just quiet. Quiet together. Which was new for them, but somehow right. And, of course they were both thinking about it. How could they not? It was a starry night. They'd been to Sniffy's and things had been said. What was left?
And by the time Luke had parked in front of the diner and Lorelai watched him come round to hand her out, they both knew what was ahead. They just did.
Simply because it was next. And time. Eight years and one date later. It was time.
And she didn't let go of his hand as they walked into the crowded diner and wound their way through the busy tables. Lorelai stood quietly at the counter then, watching Luke fill a mug of coffee and one of tea, and clutching the bag holding the chilled champagne ('Buddy doesn't know anything about romance!' Maisie had sniffed when she had forced it on them before they left, with more brownies too, 'Except where it counts, if you know what I mean,' she's added with a wink. Lorelai did know. 'Still these men can use all the help they can get. Love you, Lucas,' she'd said then. And Lorelai caught her breath at Luke's simply given hug and 'Love you too' returned.)
Of course it was time.
And then, as they wordlessly climbed the stairs for some reason she resisted the urge to tease Luke about the cheerleaders she'd just seen checking him out in the diner. Another sign.
For his part, Luke quietly climbed the stairs to the apartment behind her, knowing as well as she what was ahead, and relishing it while openly watching the way her jeans hugged and the smooth lines of her bare shoulders shone in the amber hall light. And felt the wanting of her twitch within.
God, was it ever time.
Once within, Lorelai switched on a lamp and tossed her jacket onto a chair without a word while Luke, as if by mutual consent, opened the bottle of champagne.
She sipped her coffee with a smile as she watched him pour it into juice glasses.
"You don't have to drink it for me," she told him.
He looked up at her as he shrugged out of his own jacket, "It's growing on me," he told her and crossed around the table to hand her a glass. She put down her mug and accepted it.
"To Buddy and Maisie," she said.
"I'll drink to that," he said, and did.
Lorelai met his eyes then.
"So..." she said and began a slow observational saunter around the room, "Love what you've done to the place."
"You've been here a hundred times before. It's the same."
"I was never here before as 'the girlfriend' though," she told him and bent to peer at a photograph on an end table.
"Does that make things any different?" he asked as he sipped the champagne again. He was happy to watch her bend and walk and move and touch things... for now.
"Oh, yes," she told him. "My recently acquired 'Girlfriend Vision' gives me a whole new insight to things," she added as she kicked off her shoes and looked about further.
"Such as?" he queried.
"Well, such as the fact that Luke would never buy sofa cushions for himself with pictures of fish and river stones on them. Only someone who knows him well would give these to him. Someone who knows he not only likes fishing but also needed sofa cushions. And, as the girlfriend, I have to start wondering just who knows you that well... Clearly it was a woman."
"So 'Girlfriend Vision' is a kind of state of paranoia that creates unnecessary jealousy?"
"Shut up or I might have to rifle through your briefcase too," she told him with a smile.
"And why would you do that?"
"Well, duh, to read your credit card statements—See if you've bought any expensive lingerie for other women, of course."
"Well, Man of the World that I am, I think my new, and only, (though psychotic) girlfriend is safe on that front. And it was Maisie."
"What was?"
"She made the fishing pillows for me for Christmas a few years ago."
"Ah," nodded Lorelai and continued her nosey turn around the room, "Now here is something! Something very new indeed!" she exclaimed then.
Luke looked down and briefly tugged on his ear, "Yeah.. well..."
"A double bed. Luke has a double bed. A beautiful antique double bed at that."
"It's just an old piece from the house I grew up in. I have some stuff, old furniture and such, stored in my Dad's garage. I thought maybe..."
He looked at her then and she at him.
"You thought maybe... what?"
"That it was..."
"Time?" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
She nodded, "I see," she said and looked at the bed again, "I think those flannel sheets might just be the cutest things I ever saw."
"They're just sheets, Lorelai. They're not cute."
"I beg to differ. They are cute. They are cute plaid flannel sheets. Cute red plaid flannel sheets. And all those pillows..." she went on in amazement.
"Well, you like pillows."
She looked up at him for a moment, "I do. I do like pillows. I can't believe that you know me so well and still want to be with me," she told him quietly.
"That doesn't sound like the Lorelai I know," frowned Luke.
"Well, perhaps there are actually some things about Lorelai that you haven't seen yet," she told him, and then flushed, "Dirty?" she asked nervously.
He set his glass down on the table with some deliberation then and crossed over to her and took hers away to set on the nightstand before gently placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
"I'm... I'm a little overwhelmed to tell you the truth," she admitted and blinked up at him.
He nodded, "You know there's no reason to be, right? You know that this is just me. Just us. Just you and I, and whatever happens or doesn't won't change that a bit."
She nodded, "But it will," she whispered.
"It won't. I won't let it," he assured.
And then he slid his hands up from her shoulders to cup her face. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes in response then and felt his lips lightly brush hers. When she opened her eyes again to look up at him, he was smiling.
"So is this new bed (this new wider bed) an example of you 'Always Being Prepared?' Or does it tie in more to the 'All in' thing?" she asked huskily.
"Both," he said as he closed in on her mouth again, "And, 'Dirty!'"
She giggled into his lips at that until his deepening of the kiss and hands gently stroking lower on her back shut her up.
And so they were kissing and stroking and sighing, and it was all about what they were feeling now. About the desire churning and the juices flowing until finally she gently pushed away to look at him.
"Too much?" he asked trying to catch his breath.
She shook her head. "No, I just need... Just a moment..." she breathed.
"Okay."
"Um... More champagne? Please?" she asked.
He nodded and turned to retrieve the bottle from the table. When he came back she smiled and held out her glass to be filled. She took a deep sip as he set the bottle down.
"Luke," she began, "I am on the pill."
He nodded.
"You knew?" she asked, a flush rising to her face.
"Lorelai, it's a small town. I've fixed your bathroom... And did I mention that I've known you for eight years?"
"Right," she nodded uncomfortably, "Okay." and turned away from him to set her glass down. "I just... it's important to me that you know that. Because of my... fertility history.." she finished weakly.
"Lorelai," he said as he touched her arm for her to look up at him, "I don't want you to feel... We don't have to..."
"But we do," she said definitively, "And, I want to. Very much. You're pretty hard to resist, Lucas."
"Okay," he smiled softly, and, "Good."
"Because," she straightened her shoulders, "I want you to know, Mr. Danes, that I'm in. I am all in."
She stepped away from him then, took in his surprised face, smiled and simply said, "Watch."
And he did. He could hardly fricking breathe, but he did. He watched as she slowly unzipped and slipped out of her jeans and he felt his arousal pressing forward as he caught sight, finally, of how unbelievably beautiful she was. Her long legs, her skin, the scrap of nude lace peeking out from beneath her blouse. She stepped over to him then and kissed him softly and that was it. That was the real beginning...
Soon they were both on the bed, clothes peeled away between laughs and kisses and gasps...
"My God, look at you," he told her happily.
"You're amazing," she smiled up at him.
"You're beautiful," he breathed, and buried his lips into her neck while stroking up to cup her breast.
"Yes.." she sighed out her response, arching up to meet him.
And it was tender. He, taking his maddeningly delicious time to stroke and kiss and lick her into on-the-edge arousal. She, writhing and so incredibly responsive beneath his ministrations, before he finally slid home to begin building it all even further and waiting even then, holding on for her crash over the edge, before following. It being all the better for having done so.
And later as they lay in the small apartment above the diner, lit only from stars and such outside, she could not seem to get enough of touching him, of stroking his skin...
"I can't believe you kept that horoscope...." she told him.
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Still in bed, finishing the list...
"My turn now!" she said happily, and snatched the notebook away from him.
"Your turn for what?" he laughed.
"To write down something for you, of course," she replied as she sat up. She chewed the pen thoughtfully for a moment. "Luke, what can I do for you?" she turned to ask. "What makes you happy?"
He took in the sight of Lorelai sitting up in his bed, nude.
"This," he said with a smile.
"I don't think I can make a list out of this," she frowned. "You want me to itemize new positions to learn or something?" She laughed.
Luke rolled his eyes.
"Okay, okay... we'll start with something small first. I know! Tea! You like tea. Give me the instructions to make you tea!" she demanded.
"You need to write down how to make tea?" he asked.
She stared at him. He sighed.
"Brewed or bags?" he asked.
"Well, brewed of course," she said indignantly, "Any idiot knows how to open up a tea bag and dump it into a cup."
He looked at her, "Tell me you're kidding," he said.
She smiled at him and threw the notebook to the floor.
"So this is what makes you happy?" she asked and lifted the sheet to sit astride him.
"Dear God, yes," he breathed and reached up to pull her down atop him.
"Should I be writing this down?" she giggled before he rolled her right under him.
"Shut up," he said before kissing her.
And they began again.
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The next morning...
"I'm getting your coffee," he realized groggily and got up to pull on some jeans and a flannel. When he turned around she had collapsed back onto the bed a was a hugging a pillow close. He took a moment to look at her as he buttoned the shirt.
God, but she was beautiful.....
"Coffeeeeeeeee!" she wailed.
"Right," he said and hurried down to the diner.
When he returned he heard the shower running. Damn... he'd hoped to coax her into staying longer.
When she emerged in her previous night's jeans and his shirt again, she accepted the coffee and had the manners to kiss him sweetly before sitting down across from him at the table and greedily gulping it down.
"So..." he began, "Are we okay?"
She smiled, "Absolutely."
"Good."
"So, I was in your shower thinking just now."
"Thinking? What about?"
"Well, first of all about how incredibly soft your towels are. Way to go on the thread count there, Mister."
"Thank you. I think."
"I mean you'd think a strapping gruff guy like you would towel off with sandpaper or something. Not Egyptian cotton."
"Strapping?" he quirked a brow in amusement.
"Then I started thinking about the horoscope."
"Lorelai, I wasn't pining..."
"Yeah, yeah. Thou dost protesteth too much, methinks."
"I have begged you not to talk that way anymore."
"Right. Sorry. Where was I?"
"Thinking."
"Right. And I realized that I have something to confess to you."
"Really?" he asked with interest.
"Yes."
"Well, what is it?" he asked leaning forward.
She took another sip of coffee before beginning. "About six years ago I was making a Crazy Quilt. You know, the one hanging on the stair landing?"
He nodded.
"We-ell," she smiled sheepishly, "I was having a hard time finding all the fabrics I wanted for the pieces..."
"Okay...." he said in confusion.
"Um... do you remember that spring coming over to fix the dryer for me?"
"I think so."
"And it suddenly got really hot out, though it had been cool that morning, and you took off your flannel to just your t-shirt."
"If you say so."
"You did. First time I caught sight of that tattoo, by the way. Enough to make a girl swoon, that was."
"Really?" he grinned. "You were swooning over me six years ago?"
"Well... "she looked down into her cup, "I have definitely, through the years, had moments where you have... bothered me."
"Bothered you?"
"Yes, bothered me. Is there an echo in here?" she said in exasperation.
"Bothered how?" he asked with smiling interest.
"Well, let's just say not in the 'It's-a-windy-day-and-my-hair-is-getting-stuck-to-my-lip-gloss' sort of way."
"Huh?"
"More in the 'Oh-my-God-he's-wonderful-and-attractive-and-smells-really-good,-but-he's-my- friend-way'."
"What?! Why didn't you ever say anything..."
"Shh, I've still got the confession to make."
"But..."
"Anyway," she interrupted. "I needed this fabric for the Crazy Quilt. And you had taken your shirt off and when you left you forgot it. And I was going to bring it back to you, I swear, but then it smelled so darn good, and I started looking at the color and the pattern and how soft it was..."
"You mean...?"
"Yes. I cut up your shirt and put it in my quilt," she admitted solemnly.
"You stole my shirt and cut it up?!" checked Luke, trying to grasp what he'd been told.
"Well, see, it was perfect for the quilt. Absolutely perfect. And you have so many flannel shirts. I didn't think... I mean, just one... And... well, in light of things, don't you think it's kind of... sweet?" she finished lamely.
"What did you call it again?" he sighed still trying to process.
"A Crazy Quilt," she grinned.
"Of course," he nodded.
"I need to go now," she told him regretfully as she stood up.
He got up as well.
"I don't suppose.." he began.
"What?" she smiled.
"Stay." he tried.
"Oh Luke, I can't," she told him sadly and set her mug down before wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Shoe shopping?" he teased, and slipped his fingers into her damp hair, "Or shirt-stealing capers in the works?"
"I wish," she said dolefully, "I have an important group coming in to my dear little country Inn today."
"Shriners?"
"Urban planners."
"Ah, the irony."
She laughed and looked up at him.
"Will you go with me to the town meeting tonight?" she fluttered her lashes.
"I hate those things."
"You usually go."
"But I hate them," he grumped.
"Do you want to see this shirt alive again?"
"I've got a million of them. Maisie buys me at least four every holiday, and did I say how much I hate Town Meetings?"
"We could go to a movie and dinner afterwards," she tried instead.
He sighed, "All right."
"You really know how to flatter a girl, Lucas," she said with a quick kiss before gathering up her jacket to go.
"Lorelai..." he stopped her before she could open the door.
She looked back at him, "I think the phrase you're looking for here is 'Wonderful Night'" she told him with a smile.
He nodded in agreement, "I'll see you tonight."
"Absolutely," she grinned.
"Lorelai!" he called again before she could leave.
"Hmm?"
"Keep the shirt. Looks good on you."
"Just like Ava Gardner," she smiled and was gone.