Disclaimer: Don't own none of it.
Author's Note: So, a few weeks ago I started wondering what Luke and Lorelai would be like away from Stars Hollow, just the two of them. In Stars Hollow they're always dealing with Rory, or Christopher, or TJ and Liz, or the Elder Gs, or the townies, and, well, these two kids deserve a break. So, I'm sending them to one of the greatest places ever: Cape Hatteras, NC. I've only been to the Outer Banks a few times (but someday when I'm rich and famous I'll split time between my Hatteras beach house and my loft in NYC), so I hope those of you who may be more familiar with the area will forgive any of my factual errors.
As for timeline, this takes place about six months in the future: May of 2005, to be exact. This means it may be slightly spoilerish (depending on when I get certain chapters posted), but mostly speculative.
After the first chapter, other characters from the show will play little—if any—role in this story. It's all about the L/L on their own, kids.
Oh, and P.S.? Luke will wear a bathing suit in this fic. Maybe even more than once. Visualize, my friends. Visualize.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1: Come Away With Me
He really did have the most beautiful eyelashes.
Not that Lorelai hadn't noticed them before. In the year that she'd been with Luke, Lorelai had compiled a mental list of surprising, lovable, and just plain hot things she'd never let herself notice about Luke before they got together (she called it her "What the Hell Was I Thinking for Eight Years?" List), and the eyelashes had been one of the first entries. In fact, she'd teased him about them early on. Maybe he's born with it, she'd crooned over the diner counter during a particularly heavy lunch rush. Maybe it's Maybelline.
Needless to say, Luke had taken her teasing in his usual calm fashion. He'd only turned three shades of red, and he'd actually waited ten whole seconds before muttering his standard aw, geez and beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen.
Now, months later, she was laying in bed at what she'd once considered an obscene hour of the morning, again admiring her sleeping boyfriend's eyelashes. She'd started doing stuff like this not long after Luke had hired the two new kids at the diner and started spending more mornings with her. She'd wake up with the first light and study him as he slept, trying to figure out what it was about him—what it was about them together, even after all the rough moments—that made her so damn happy. Trying to ease the fears over what she'd almost lost with happiness and security in what she had.
This morning she didn't have too long to contemplate the matter. After a few seconds, Luke stirred and shifted his head on the pillow.
"You're doing it again," he murmured, his eyes still closed.
God, his morning voice was sexy. One more thing for The List.
"Doing what?" She snuggled into the crook between his neck and shoulder and wondered again at how her head fit so perfectly in that particular spot.
Luke rolled over on his side and slid his hand across her stomach. "You're staring at me while I sleep. It was creepy when Renee Zellweger did it to that guy in that movie, and it's only slightly less creepy when you do it to me."
"Okay, A.) I'm way hotter than Renee Zellweger," she purred, trailing warm, soft kisses across his shoulder. "And 2), is there anything wrong with admiring my purty boyfriend?"
"I am not 'purty.'"
He was trying to sound mad, but it was hard to take him seriously when his hand was working its way under her pajama top.
"Oh, you are totally purty."
She would have debated the point further, but a second later his mouth was on hers and she decided debates could wait.
After a few minutes, though, she pulled away, her mind already on another track. "Hey, do you know what two weeks from Tuesday is?"
Luke sighed and propped himself up on one arm. By now he was used to Lorelai's non-linear thought patterns and able to follow most—if not all—of her tangents. "I'll have to check the calendar to be sure, but I think it's May 11."
"You are correct, sir. And what is significant about that date?"
"Don't tell me, let me guess. Is it the season finale of Desperate Housewives?"
"No, that's on Sunday. But can I just say that I'm very impressed that you even remembered the name of the show? Now, take another guess."
"I dunno. Bono's birthday?"
"Aw, you're so cute when you try to be all hip and pop-culture-y. Alas, you're wrong again."
"Okay, I give up. What's May 11?"
"You mean you seriously don't know?"
"I seriously don't know."
"Well, if you don't know, then I'm sure not going to tell you."
"Lorelai . . ."
"No, I mean it."
"Come on, just tell me."
Lorelai slumped back against the headboard, arms crossed across her chest, ready to enter full pout mode. For a year she'd looked back on that night and all the feelings and realizations that had come over her when he'd held her, and she'd known that that was the moment her life changed completely. And now it turns out he didn't even . . .
"I can not believe you don't remember our first date. You took me to Liz's wedding, and you told me I looked beautiful, and we danced, and . . . " She trailed off when she saw the smirk on his face. "You jerk!" She swatted him on the shoulder. "You do remember!"
"Of course I remember," he chuckled, "although I have to say I'm not thrilled about sharing an anniversary with Liz and TJ." He reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "And you did look beautiful."
As usual, a complement from Luke sent a thrill through her. And as usual, she had to play off just how much she was feeling by making a joke "Aw, you big softie," she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "I'm so ratting you out to the United Brotherhood of Gruff, Non-Romantic Flannel Wearers."
"My membership dues are months behind anyway," he murmured against her lips.
Lorelai spent a few minutes enjoying the sensation of Luke's tongue teasing hers and his hand stroking the bare skin of her stomach before pulling away again. "We should do something," she panted, trying to calm her body's instinctive reaction to Luke's touch long enough to make her point.
"Funny, I could have sworn we were doing something," Luke growled, drawing her back to him.
But Lorelai was on a mission, and even Luke's lips couldn't distract her. Well, not for too long, anyway.
"I mean we should do something for our anniversary," she giggled, dodging his mouth. She held him off with her hands against his chest and gave him her best I've Got a Brilliant Idea and You're Going to Go Along with It Because You Luuuurve Me smile. "We should go away together!"
Luke sat up and gave her the patented Skeptical Luke look he always used in defense against The Smile. "What, you mean like on vacation?"
"No, like on a fact-finding tour for the UN weapons inspectors." She bounced up and down and shook his shoulder in excitement. "Come on, it'll be fun. We've never been anywhere together."
"We just went to New York last month."
"I hate to break it to you, hon, but giving your sister a ride to see Jess when her car is in the shop does not a romantic vacation make. Besides, this is the perfect time. You've got plenty of help at the diner, Rory won't be home for the summer for a couple of weeks, and this may be my last chance to get away from the inn before Sookie has the baby."
"Well . . ."
Like any good conversational predator, Lorelai could tell when her prey was weakening and she pounced on Luke's non-committal commital. "Goody! You just leave all the planning to me. We are going to have such an amazing vacation that Belinda Carlisle's gonna get the Go-Gos back together just so they can sing about it again."
"Fine. Whatever you want." He leaned in to kiss her again, but a thought stopped him. "But no Vegas."
"Fine. Vegas is out."
"Or Atlantic City."
"Okay, so no gambling on either side of the Mississippi. Got it."
"And no Graceland, either," he added, not wanting to put anything past her.
"But the Jungle Room . . ."
"No. Graceland. DisneyLand. No tacky, glittery, neon-lit tourist trap 'lands' of any kind."
This sent Lorelai into a fresh round of pouting. God, he was so infuriating when he went all Man of the House. Well, maybe he was a man. And maybe, technically, this was his house as well as hers—at least it had been for the last couple of months. But still.
"Yeah, well, I don't want to go hunting or fishing or stay anywhere that isn't serviced by Cingular Wireless and Cox Digital Cable. So . . .so . . . take that!"
Luke grinned, enjoying one of the rare moments when he was the one who got her all riled up. "Tell you what. You come up with a place that we can both enjoy, where we'll both be comfortable, and I'm there."
Of course, Lorelai never could resist a dare. "Oh, you'd better start packing your bags, mister. You are going to have the Best. Vacation. Ever. And I'm not just saying that 'cause you'll be spending days of uninterrupted time in my goddess-like presence."
The challenge issued and accepted, she decided that pouting time was officially over. She rolled over and slid her leg across his hip.
"Now, where were we?"
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It took Lorelai two days and twenty-five hours of Internet research to decide that there was no such thing as a vacation destination that would make both her and Luke happy. Finally, when she felt like she couldn't look at one more picture of happy couples in impossibly pristine hotel rooms and Sookie and Michel were both about to kill her for not getting any work done, she did what she always did at times of emotional or intellectual confusion.
"Hello?"
"I have no idea where to go with my boyfriend on vacation."
"You know, it probably wouldn't kill you if just once you said 'hello' like a normal person."
"You really want me to tell you how much you sound like your grandmother right now?"
"Point taken. So, what's the prob?"
"The prob is that it's impossible to find one place in the continental US that says both 'mountain man' and 'fabulous diva.' It can't be done. It's like trying to add pink glitter to a blue-and-red flannel shirt. And we know how well that goes over."
"I gotta say, I'd never seen Luke so ticked before. I was sure his head would explode. Literally."
"Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know it was one of his favorites? It's not like he wore it very often. But anyway, I digress. How am I supposed to find a romantic getaway spot that's bi-polar enough to suit both of us?"
"What about New York?"
"Can you really see Luke hanging out while I cruise the Prada boutique?"
"Yeah, about as easily as I can see you in a fishing cabin in Nova Scotia."
"Exactly. So what do I do? Help me, Obi-Wan-Yalie. You're my only hope."
"Oh, like your dirty weekend conundrum compares to the fate of the Galaxy . . . Oh, wait! I know! How about the Outer Banks?"
"The Outer Whats?"
"The Outer Banks. It's this long sort of barrier island off the coast of North Carolina. I read all about it when we did that issue on Spring Break destinations a couple of months ago. Omigod, yeah, it'll be perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Absolutely. It's rustic enough for Luke, especially if you go down to one of the villages at Hatteras, but it's got the beach, plus enough tacky tourist shops to satisfy even your kitsch-y cravings."
"Hmm. The beach, shopping, and Luke in a pair of wet swim trunks."
"Okay, what did we say about over-sharing?"
"Sorry. Seriously, it sounds perfect. God, I tear my hair out for two days, and then here you come up with a solution in, like, two minutes. You are an amazing child! I knew I gave birth to you for a reason."
"Glad to be of service. After I get back from dinner I'll e-mail you some articles and links and stuff."
"Dinner, huh? Is it Duckie or Blaine tonight?"
"It's Marty, Mom."
"Ah, Duckie it is. Well, have a good time, and stay away from sleazy preppy guys in rumpled linen suits."
"I will . . .Hey, mom? I'm really glad you and Luke are getting away together. You guys deserve it, especially after everything that went down this winter."
"Thanks, kid. Good night, Andie."
"Good night, Iona."
strummy-strummy-la-la
Up Next: Well, any trip that starts out crappy can only get better. Right?