Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I'm just playing.
Author's Note: I know people are sick of these post 5.22 things, but I had an idea and it wouldn't leave me along. And I started writing the day after the finale aired, so let's pretend my incessant tweaking and delays didn't happen and I'm among the first to post, mmmkay? Much appreciated. Anyway, if I don't post it I'll keep tweaking it, and that could get ugly. Rating because Lorelai sometimes has a bit of a potty mouth.
Lorelai waited. And waited. It had been several minutes, she thought – or an hour; everything was kind of a blur right now. She studied Luke's face, hoping for an indication of what was going through his mind, but the hard work she'd put in over the last several months had apparently been for naught – she couldn't read him at all.
Just as she was about to speak again, he seemed to shake himself awake and closed his mouth. "Okay, I get it," he announced. "Rant over. Shutting up now."
"What? No!" She rose quickly and went over to him. "I love the ranting," she continued, putting her arms around his neck and looking him in the eye, "but it would be nice if you took a little break; just long enough to answer my question."
"Lorelai…," he began gently, putting her away from him.
She smiled a little too brightly, "The word you're looking for is 'Yes', Luke. 'Yes, please', if you really want to impress me with your enthusiasm." There was a long pause as she waited again while he stared at her. "Really, Luke – I'd settle for 'I suppose so'…. Do I need to break out the hair flip? Because I can do that. I can do whatever it takes: the hair flip, the little black dress, those heels I almost broke my neck in last week…." She reached for him again, but he sidestepped her.
"Lorelai," he began a second time as he studied the floor, "you don't want to get married."
Lorelai gaped at him. "Excuse me? Check that crystal ball again, Carnac, because umm…yeah, I do." She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. "Luke, what makes you think I don't want to get married? I thought we were on the same page about this, with the house and everything…."
His head snapped up, eyes wide. "How did you…?" She raised her eyebrows. "Kirk," he growled.
"The very same," she agreed. "Hell hath no fury like Kirk scorned, you know. Though I have to admit I'm shocked you thought you could keep it a secret at all – you do remember that we live in Stars Hollow, right?"
"How was I supposed to know that Kirk…." Luke prepared to launch into another rant, then stopped himself. "You know what, it doesn't matter any more. I told Taylor I didn't want the house after all." He turned back to the counter and picked up his cleaning rag.
"Oh, okay." Lorelai's face fell. Now it was her turn to stare at the ground as she gnawed on her lower lip from the inside. She glanced at Luke's back, then walked over to the door and looked out. Catching sight of Kirk trotting along the sidewalk, Taylor at his heels, she quickly flipped the lock. "Not this time, pal," she muttered. Turning around, she saw that Luke had retreated to the safety of "his" side of the counter. She took a deep breath.
"So," she sauntered across the room and perched on a stool. "Want to explain this to me, Luke? Because giving up a house that you had to become Taylor's new best friend to get in the first place makes it sound like you're the one who doesn't want to get married." Her bravado faded instantly and she went on in a voice he could barely hear, "Why don't you want to get married?"
He braced his hands on the counter and sighed. "It's not that…." He sighed again. "Listen, when you told me you probably weren't going to sell the inn…."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the meeting," she cut in, covering his hand with her own. "I know I should have, but you're the one who told me I should take the meeting, so I didn't think I needed to, and then it probably wasn't going to go anywhere, so I figured…."
"Probably."
"What?"
"Probably," he repeated. "You said you probably weren't going to sell the inn."
"Yes, 'probably'," Lorelai imitated him. "I know you have issues with the excessive use of adverbs, Luke, but one little 'probably' never hurt anyone." She rolled her eyes. "I was having fun mulling it over; being wooed by a ginormous corporation that has tons of money to spoil me with; making my father proud of me for the first time since I was, like, ten. I was never seriously thinking about taking that offer."
Luke looked at the counter. "Maybe you should," he said quietly.
She couldn't have been more surprised if he'd struck her. "You want me to take the job? Sell the inn? Travel?"
"I want you to be happy." He looked up. "This job is a big deal, and you should take it if it would make you happy."
Her eyes welled up for the umpteenth time that night, and she was momentarily distracted by the discovery that she had any tears left. "And you," she asked around the lump in her throat. "Would you come with me? Would it make you happy?"
"I have a business to run."
"Which you managed to leave for an entire summer. You could come with me, at least some of the time."
Luke ran a hand over his face, and they both pretended not to notice the wetness there. "And what would I do with myself while you were working – shop? Hang around the hotel? They're offering you a job, not a vacation…I'd just be in the way."
"And taking this job means not getting married, because…." Lorelai had a feeling she knew where this was going.
"Because you should be free."
"Free," she choked out. "Right. So if I took the job you would break up with me?"
"No!" He replied quickly. "This is not some kind of ultimatum. But I wouldn't want you to feel tied down; I would…understand…," he looked away again, "if you met someone else in Paris or London or whatever."
Her tears were falling freely now. "Oh, Luke," she reached out to cup his cheek and turn him to face her. "Who could I meet that even compared to you? Don't you know you've spoiled me for anyone else?" She leaned up and kissed him, hard.
Luke pulled back slowly. "I just don't want to hold you back. I just want you to be happy," he said again.
Lorelai only let him get a few inches away. "I am happy," she whispered. "Even when I'm miserable because my daughter the felon hates me and my parents have gotten out their lightweight backstabbing knives from winter storage, I'm happy with you. You never hold me back, baby – you lift me up. You always have. They ought to be offering you a job." She stared him down until finally – finally – she saw something shift in his eyes.
He shot her a shy smile. "Back-up dancer?"
She settled back on her stool and grinned at him. They were back. "Head cheerleader. White Knight. Husband….Hey now, how 'bout that last one, Lancelot? Any thoughts?"
"Lorelai – " Luke sighed, growing serious again. "I know right now you think you want this, but…."
"No!" Lorelai interrupted. "No more buts, Luke. We can live in the Twickham house, or my house, or your apartment, or a goddamn tent – I don't care. And if Mike Armstrong wants to renegotiate his offer he can take his best shot, but I am not selling the inn, and I am not taking a position that keeps me away from here for any length of time. And I refuse to hear another word about anybody being 'free', even temporarily – there's no frickin' way I'm letting you back on the market after it took me eight years to catch you in the first place!" She banged on the counter with her fist. "Ow, shit!"
Luke came around the counter, took the offending hand in his, and kissed it. "C'mere," he said, leading Lorelai back to her chair and motioning for her to sit. He pulled out a second chair to face him and straddled it with an arm across the back, rubbing her hand all the while. "I am not going anywhere," he began solemnly.
She blinked at him, puzzled. "I know that, hon; we just went over this: I'm not going anywhere, you're not going anywhere, we're not going anywhere…." She waggled her finger back and forth between them.
"No," he interrupted. "Listen to me carefully. I am not going anywhere. I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere. And I will be there for you any time you need me."
"Luke, I know," Lorelai huffed. "Why do you think I'm here right now? I mean, your solution to the Rory issue is a little Lucy trying to get into the show, but at least you tried, unlike some people." She pursed her lips, remembering, and looked down at their joined hands.
And then, suddenly, light dawned. "You think this is because of Rory," she said, looking up. "It's not because of Rory."
"Okay."
"No, not 'okay', Luke," she stood, tugging her hand out of his, and stepped away from the table. "Stay," she commanded, pointing, as he moved to follow.
"I understand, you know," Luke insisted, reaching out to her over the back of the chair. "You're upset right now – things have been weird with you and Rory for a while, and you and your mother had just managed to come to some kind of truce…."
Lorelai snorted and crossed her arms. "Talk about weird…."
He ignored her. "And you can dismiss it all you want, but do you know how many times you've told me that your father said he was proud of you?"
"Couple a times," she flapped a hand.
"Times a day, you mean," Luke corrected. "I don't want us to rush into something we're not ready for because you think it's all you've got. You'll work this out with Rory eventually, one way or another, and with your parents, too. And then once things have settled down we can think about marriage and, you know, that whole communication thing. Okay?"
"Hey, I'm not the one who tried to hide an entire house, Mr. Copperfield." Lorelai grabbed the chair she'd been sitting on and spun it around, then straddled it. "You might be right, Luke, but I just have one question," she began, leaning forward.
"Shoot."
"When you came to my house that night, was it because my mother came to see you?"
"Was it…? Are you kidding me?" He leapt from the chair and began to pace and wave his hands. "Didn't we work this out months ago? How could you even…? Of course I didn't…." He stopped suddenly, facing her, and planted his hands on his hips. "No, I didn't, and you know that. We talked about this. I know we talked about this."
"Yup, we did," Lorelai acknowledged. "We agreed that it was just a little push to get you to do something you were going to do anyway, and it helped you get to the front door that night instead of just standing on the sidewalk."
Luke nodded slowly as she spoke. "Right. So then why the question, all of a sudden?"
"Don't you see? It's the same thing," she said. "All that stuff with Rory and my parents, it was just a little push to get me to do what I was ready to do anyway. This is me standing at your front door instead of on the sidewalk, Luke." She paused. "Okay, we gotta find a new metaphor; I feel like I'm channeling Kirsten Dunst, and I'm still not convinced that 'standing in your doorway' thing wasn't a euphemism..."
"Point, Lorelai."
She made a face at him. "The point, my java-slinging friend, is that after I left my parents' house tonight I drove around for three hours, drinking disgusting coffee-based concoctions you would never serve and thinking about Rory's life, and my life, and Rory's future, and my future, and pretty soon all I wanted was to come here and see you and have you tell me it will be okay because you just know."
"It will..."
"Not finished." Lorelai held up a hand. "Now, I wasn't kidding before – I think you might be right about us having to do some work on being in this...relationship...before we decide to get married. But you need to get that I didn't ask you to marry me because I was having a bad day." She studied him a moment, thinking. "You do want to marry me eventually, right?"
Luke moved closer to her chair and let her take his hand again. "I've never really wanted to marry anyone else," he said quietly.
"Well, that's a lovely sentiment there, babe, but..."
"Never," he insisted, watching her carefully until she blushed and nodded her head. "And yeah, I get it."
She grinned at him. "Seriously, Luke, because this is a standing offer, and I want credit for asking first. No coming around one day with a huge rock and pretending it was all your idea."
"No huge rock," Luke grinned back, taking her hand to help her up. "I get it."
Lorelai swatted his arm. "Funny man." She leaned against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Are you about done down here? I'm beat."
"You have had a very hard day," he kissed her forehead. "Go to bed; I'll just be a few minutes."
"Can whatever it is wait 'til tomorrow? I want to go upstairs and celebrate our non-engagement." She tugged at his arm.
Luke laughed. "I thought you were tired."
"Ready for bed; not ready for sleep," Lorelai smirked. "C'mon, Luke; the diner will be here in the morning, and we still have to figure out how to refer to our new status."
"Do I even want to know what that means?" Luke let her lead him toward the stairs.
"Our relationship status," she rolled her eyes. "What are we? Are we 'engaged to be engaged'? Do we 'have an understanding'? Should I refer to you as 'my intended'?"
"I think those all mean 'engaged', Lorelai."
She ignored him. "Affianced? Betrothed? Pledged?"
"You've been watching those BBC videos again, haven't you?"
"You can't prove anything." Lorelai laughed. "Now c'mon – this time you can be Mr. Darcy."