Sorry 'bout all the deleting of the story crap. Oh and by the way, it's all explained in an author's note on the first chapter, so if you're itching to know what happened you can just pop over there and take a quick looksie. No, I don't talk like that.

Urm, and I'm going to visit England on July 27th, therefore updating will be non-existent. I'll finish this story before then, and I get back August 17th or something, but my sister goes to college on the 25th, and, just to make everything extra-wonderful, I'm moving, for reasons which I am not inclined to relate to anyone. I'm actually holding off telling anyone I know until completely inevitable, and by then they'll be all, "Since Saint Patrick's Day? And you tell me now?" But anyway. The point of me telling you all this information that you don't care about is that new stories will be very out of the question until maybe the end of August. And I'm not really looking forward to doing stories during school, so… I don't know, I might get into one-shots or something. Yes, I know, it's crazy! Fan fic authors are actual PEOPLE with actual LIVES, not just bodiless spirits whose one point in life is to write for you whenever it's convenient for you! It shocks me too.

Ponder this for a second. We are online, we know nothing (well not much) of each other. What if, when I was at the beach, you were there too? What if you were that fat guy lying near me? Or the lady who gave me an ice cream? Or that woman lying next to that man sunbathing? Or that man lying next to that woman sunbathing? Maybe I passed you on the street. Maybe I bumped into you and said, "Sorry," and we never knew! Maybe you waited on me at Kay n' Dave's, even though I don't really like Kay n' Dave's. Well, actually, their fries are amazing. And their burgers. They're huge and I looked like a totally pig shoving it into my mouth and I was covered in ketchup. Or, even weirder thought. Maybe I know you. Maybe you're my teacher. Maybe you're on my dad's soccer team. Maybe you go to my school. Maybe you're one of my friends' parents. Maybe you're that really nice travel agent or that other really nice real estate agent. We will never know. And that's freaky.

And seriously, world, what does PDLD mean? I reviewed a person who'd asked that question. Let me quote myself. "I have no idea what PDLD is and it bugs me whenever I see it. So I checked your reviews to see what people had said. No one answered it! You know what I think? Some random drunk person writing the first Rory-Finn fic couldn't think of a good name to call them. Since it was very late at night, and the drunk person was, you know, drunk, he (yes, it's a guy) pressed some random buttons and sent the fanfic on its merry way. People reading it saw PDLD and thought, wow, I don't know what that means. Therefore it must be very clever and far too beyond my meager intelligence. If I use the term, people will think I'm smart! And so they term grew. And no one in the world knows what it means, except for the drunk guy, but he died in a tragic accident. A pool game gone wrong, to be exact. I won't go into the details, they're pretty gory." So if you actually do know, or you're that inebriated fellow's ghost, please please tell me (now! Sorry.)

Oh, and also, I know I changed Luke and Nicole's relationship a little, but as this is a What in the World if? fic, that is perfectly legal. So don't review telling me 'but that didn't happen until blah blah begins to rant while Hanna stops listening!'

Disclaimers- the most important meal of the day: Since I want to avoid another run-in with the police and I'm currently in their bad books after that whole whipped-cream-monster-truck incident, I'm going to be honest and say I don't own these characters. Or Airplane. But here's some non-profit advertising- watch it. It's a kick.

Mkay, Anon. I am not going to yell at you this time. I am going to calmly reply to your review. – takes breath - I don't mind bad reviews at all. Seriously, I don't. My only problem with you is the fact that you didn't mention my story. You didn't even read my story. (Well, that WAS my only problem with you until recent events, but anyway. Not talking about that with you.) That's obnoxious, frankly. If you don't like my a/n's then you can just skip them. Don't review just to tell me you don't like my a/n's and not read the story. I don't know why the fact that I like to talk should put you off my entire fic. That has no impact on my writing. So then just stop reviewing. A review telling me you don't like the a/n's and you haven't read the story is completely pointless and is not going to make a difference whatsoever in what I do. Either read and review the actual story or just don't review. Kapish? Also, here's a quote from bloodymary2: "Now, note to ANON2, who probably won't read this: Author's note's are permitted (yeah, there is not length limit, so stop complaining) as long as they come before or after a chapter. And if you are not reading the story, why put your two cents in? If you have nothing to report, MOVE ALONG..." And as an afterthought, here's just a little friendly, good-natured question. Do you review as Anon because you're scared that otherwise people will know your identity and you're too much a coward to show your yellow face because then people will have an actual person to be mad at and you're too wimpy to deal with that? Just wondering. I have nothing else to say to you. – sends shooting glares of death – That was just low, man. Low, low, low.

Scubaluver: Don't feel scared to reply! I seriously don't mind bad reviews at all. The only reason I yelled at Anon is because they didn't even read my story, they just reviewed to flame my a/n and didn't say anything about the writing. That annoys me. And also I was feeling in a powerful, ranting mood. You're great because your criticism is constructive… and you actually read the writing. So say whatever the hell you want about my writing, I promise I won't kill you. I'm sorry if I scared you. I don't mean to scare reviewers who want to say something bad. Just, seriously, Anon didn't mention my story! That's the part that annoys me, not the criticism. Oh and NOW also the getting my story REPORTED and DELETED thing. Sorry that messed up the chapter for you, it took me a while to write that chapter. But oh well, I guess I have to pay for my random spout of meanness. (By the way, it's ciao, not caio.)

L/L are Lobsters/Beeba: Hello, my newly-acclaimed email friend! (Well…newly acclaimed when I wrote this… now not so newly acclaimed) I know, they're so mean! I mean, if you're going to criticize, mention the actual STORY please. "I'm sure your story is good but…" I mean what's that all about? At least four people have told me I converted them into ramblers and they only ramble for me. And I love GilmoreGirl1979, she was practically a GODDESS to me at the beginning of my fan fic career, even before I got my own penname. Beeba is such a cool sounding name. I reviewed you there. A WHILE ago… And I already saw Bewitched. It was SO funny. I mean, you know when you laugh in a theatre it's usually a quiet 'ahaha,' more like a chuckle? Well, I was laughing so hard at parts. I have a very loud laugh. I even snorted at one point. I loved the part where he was talking about the dog weirdly because she made him.

Suz22: I know! Lindsey Lohan used to be my idol. A person told me I looked like her once (when I was little) and I practically wet myself. Thankya, I love my a/n's too. And you are in one right now. I hate the reviews that just say it's bad without talking about the story. I mean, construct, people! I read about three of your chapters for Daydreams and it seems good to me! Just send those people who flamed it to me and I'll take care of them with my biting verbal wit.

Izzpuppy: I love you. I love you. I love you. (dramatic pause to let information sink in) I usually reply to reviews in the order I got them but I decided to just do yours right now because I just read it and it made me want to cry. In a good way. Because I have fostered a rambler. I think cookies are a waste for cookie dough. Unless you make them like my sister, which is basically in the oven for a couple minutes and when you take them out they're warm and soft and you practically have to eat them with a spoon. It's like heated cookie dough, it's so good. I recommend it. I know, I saw your bio thing and you talked about me and I was like, "Squeal! That's me! Me, me, right there!" I love frolicking. I have this one friend (she kind of reminds me of you in the way that she's always… frolicking with her computer and doing nothing but her metabolism is crazy fast and she's so skinny) and whenever we go away in AIM (you know people say 'brb') we're like, go frolic in BRB Land and then we start to frolic and I stand up and frolic around my living room and occasionally around my dog who stares at me like's I'm insane, which is a probable thing actually, and moves away slowly so not as to startle me. Hmm, frolic looks weird but that's how my computer says it's spelled. Yeah, geez, WHITE sunglasses? With her pale skin and now freakin' ghost hair? Lindsey, Lindsey. I love Blue's Clues! And oh my God, apples and peanut butter is so good. But what's even better is apples and CARAMEL. In advisory at school we have advisory food and this one girl's like, "Why can't we have something healthy?" and I'm like, "…" so we decided to bring in apples but with peanut butter and caramel for us normal people and I was dipping that apple in there crazily, it was so good and I was so sticky and it was all over me and we were supposed to be cleaning up and I was still standing there shoving apples and caramel in my face and my advisor's like, "Hanna!" and I'm like, "Hold on hold on one more apple," and the point is it's amazing. – sigh – You're right, I am Amy in disguise, come to write fanfic. Damn! And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that meddling Izzpuppy and, um, her dog. Hmm, that sounded better in my head. Wow, wet noodles. That's so cool. It makes me want to make a really big piece of pasta and cook it so it's really soft (euch, I love al dente pasta) and then soak it in my sink and then go around attacking people with it. That would be so cool. You can write down the phone message. I'm thinking of using it myself actually when I get a cell phone. It's sad I don't have one but I think I'm getting one soon. And I can't do it on the house phone because once I made a really funny one with my friends but then my mom changed it because it annoyed her. Woah about the Yellow Submarine thing. I guess if you're looking for it it sounds slightly druggish but not too much. If you wanna find a song with a clear hidden message, listen to Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself." Even the title shows it. And he mentions 'love vibrations.' Just try guess what it's about. I now realized this is much much too long for a shout out and I will abruptly cut myself off, leaving you wondering if I was planning on saying anything else.

Epona9009: Yeah, I hate that Luke's married. Hmm, maybe I'll do a little twisting. Or maybe I'll incorporate the marriage into the fic as a problem. I've always wondered who told Emily. But the thing I wonder about the most is The Town Loner's protest. What was he protesting, dammit? I really want to know! Sometimes it makes me grumpy and I have a bad day, thinking about the protest. I want to jump into the screen and grab the paper and turn it around and READ it. I'm not going to delete Anon's reviews because I like it. It amuses me how mean he/she/it is. And he/she/it did review again and it was still mean. He/She/It said he/she/it wasn't going to read my story. I'm like… well, I'm not going to get into again, I replied to him/her/it at the beginning of this chapter farther up there. If you have the utmost desire to read it you can. GRR I can't believe he/she/it reported my story.

Copperboom: I actually went and read your one fic. And I love it, it's so good. It sucks you can't sign in because you'd make an amazing L/L writer. Maybe you can make a new account. I do do soccer but I seriously don't remember ever writing that. Did I write that? And, if so, where? Am I losing my mind? Hehe, I'm the best writer. I totally love that episode (Donna Reed one). It's one of my favorites. But the one iffy thing I have about Season 1 and 2 fics (even though I did one Season 2 fic) is that Lorelai isn't emotionally ready, she's still in love with Chris. But hey, I guess I can ignore that. Because it's fiction! That GG quote game sounds funny. I love saying "Oy with the poodles already!" to people. I'll be sure to feel my taters.

Totaltvjunkie: Ha! A fellow redhead! I don't know what it is about me but I'm like obsessed with other redheads. Not in a weird way. Well, I guess even the thought of being obsessed with red hair is kind of weird. But I just mean that if someone has red hair my opinion of them goes up considerably. And that is one of the reasons I'm pissed at Lindsey. I mean, people pay lots of money to have hair like ours! My hairdresser told me she'd have to combine like three different dyes to try and dye someone's hair my color. And Lindsey had it and she threw it away for generic ditzy blonde hair! Ugh, I hate popups. I have a bad computer but my mom has a laptop because she's a teacher, so I barely ever use the bad one. I do all my fics on the good one (it's called the Viper). But if I ever need to use The Artist Formerly Known as Compy (the sucky one), there's like a million popups.

Gidget89: You read all the responses? That's so cool! Sometimes I think, "Wouldn't it be cool if people did that?" but then I go, don't be silly Hanna, no one would do that. But you do! And that's so great. I am happy. I really do like CasablancaI just thought Luke would be more preoccupied with Lorelai which would make the movie less appealing to him. Yeah, come on, Cheetos? Chee- for cheese, but what's the toes part? Oh my God. They make it out of toes. I've seen the light. Toes covered in cheese. Cheetos. Eating them will never be the same. Thanks for all the love.

Jewels12: I just read yours… love it. Dennis Quaid is pretty sexy now that you mention it. But it wasn't something I thought about when I was eight. I think half the reason I loved Lindsey when she was little was she had red hair. You know that little piece of hair in her face? I wanted that for about five years. I contemplated getting the scissors from the kitchen and doing it myself.

Lukelaiandroryndean: I am special, babe. I loved the phone conversation too. And I could imagine the Luke's tightening jeans thing and Lorelai watching him. Here I am updating so I get another one of your reviews. Hoopah!

Bloodymary: For some reason when I read your review I started cracking up. You read the Anon thing and found the review and then agreed with me. I mean, seriously! Not about to rant about Anon because I already ranted about him up top and this A/N will become amazingly long if I keep repeating it. Damn guy got my story DELETED. I love my rants and bubbly personality too! Haha, self-appreciation month is always for me. Now here's the funny thing. In my title, Video Killed the Radio Star, I'm referring to the song entitled "Video Killed the Radio Star." It's not as in-depth as you'd think. I put what you said to Anon2 in my reply to him if that's okay. Oh and I saw you mention my ranting in pOnDeReSqUe's reviews (LOVE her, I left her a huge rambling review) and I just wanted to say ha! Thanks!

Rusty Bedsprings: No, keep calling me girly! I only hated it when I was little. And now that's you've stopped, I miss it. It's like… well, rice. You don't think about it that much. It's just rice, you know? But then once it's gone, you're like… I want rice. Hmm. That was a very bad simile. Forget that. Cartoons are a must, even as an adult. Not that I'd know because I'm not one. But when I am one I'm sure I'll still love cartoons. I love the Animaniacs. Ooh, I have a better simile! Okay, in 5th grade, we had to learn the presidents, and I had the Animaniacs video where they sang that song (that's the only way I aced that test, by the way, I totally would've failed if I didn't have it) so my music teacher asked for it so she could show that to the classes. And she didn't give it back for a really really long time and while I didn't have it I missed it like crazy. But I never thought about it when I had it. There, cartoon simile.

Video Killed the Radio Star

Chapter Trois: Forgotten Girl Scout Massacre

Lorelai stood with the phone glued to her ear, watching Luke settle onto the sofa and move around some of the food on the table. His flannel shirt was rolled up to his elbows and his forearmy muscles moved as he went about his business. Did forearmy muscles have a name? Or did people just call them 'those forearmy muscles right there on the forearm'? Did people besides her even refer to the forearmy muscles in any way at all? She wondered how simple forearmy muscles could look sexy as they moved a bowl of Cheetos. It wasn't the sexiest of actions but the forearmy muscles made it sexy. Okay, she needed to stop referring to the forearmy muscles as separate from the rest of Luke. Hmm. The rest of Luke.

"Okay, traditionally, when a person is on the phone, they actually have to do some talking."

Lorelai's eyes de-glazed and she yanked her head up. "Oh, no, sorry. She hung up. I… I like listening to that really long 'eeeeeeeh' noise when you hang up. It's very relaxing."

"I've always found loud, obnoxious noises stressing rather than relaxing, personally," voiced Luke.

Lorelai smiled and walked over to the sofa, her side brushing his as she sat down again. "Then your blood pressure must really rise whenever I'm around."

Luke thought of a different way that sentence could be construed and decided that, in a way she didn't mean, her comment was right. "Let's just eat dessert."

It was a little bit later and they had finally gotten through Casablanca in its entirety. Lorelai and Luke were sitting side by side with their feet up on the table and a blanket draped over both of them. Lorelai threw the blanket off her and leapt up. "Okay, second movie. What do you suggest?"

Luke groaned. "I suggest not another moment of this torture you enjoy bestowing upon me."

"Hmm, don't have that one. Next time I'm in the video store I'll look for Not Another Moment of This Torture you Enjoy Bestowing Upon Me, though, sounds like a classic," she said. Lorelai kneeled down by her collection of movies and began searching through it. Now it was Luke's turn to watch Lorelai's pants… de-slacken… around the back. Her sweater inched up, revealing a few inches of skin on her back. Luke watched until Lorelai stood up. "What do we think of Airplane? The premise: it's a spoof of airplane movies and romance movies and stuff. This guy was in the Vietnam War and he crashed a plane and now he's scared of flying, and he's living in the past. His girlfriend, who's a flight attendant, leaves because he won't get out of the past, but he buys a ticket and gets on a plane for the first time in a long time to try and win her back. There's this epidemic and stuff, but anyway, the pilots all pass out and he has to land the plane. Filled with laughter and fabulous one-liners, including the unforgettable "Surely you can't be serious? I am serious, and don't call me Shirley," this movie is a sure winner with anyone who has even the smallest sense of humor. So?" She shook the DVD at him appealingly.

"Are you getting a cut on the advertising?" He sighed. "Sure, it sounds fine."

"Fine?" repeated Lorelai scathingly as she (to Luke's delight) bent down again to put the DVD in. "This is more than fine, my friend." She straightened out and walked over to the couch, plopping down on the sofa against Luke's arm, throwing her legs over Luke's on the table, and tossing the blanket back over both of them. "And now we press play."

The opening shots of the airport and the arguing intercom voices began to play over the screen. Lorelai was giggling and kept telling Luke to listen.

"I am listening."

"No, no, listen to the voices, it's so funny."

"Maybe I could listen a little better if you weren't blabbing so loud."

"Fine," Lorelai huffed, snuggling into Luke's side slightly. She began quoting the movie, deepening and lifting her voice on certain parts. "Don't start in with your white zone sht again. There's just no stopping in a white zone. Oh really, Vernon, why pretend? We both know perfectly well what it is you're talking about. You want me to have an abortion. It's really the only sensible thing to do. If its done properly, therapeutically, there's no danger involved."

"I assume you're going to be doing this the whole movie."

"You assume correctly."

Luke pretended to heave a sigh of disgruntled acceptance and leaned his head back. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lorelai, sandwiched against his side with the weight of her legs heavy on him and her eyes sparkling with amusement. A few minutes later, Lorelai turned excitedly and grabbed his thigh under the blanket. "Ooh, I love this part, watch." She began to laugh as the ticketer handed Ted Striker a steaming ticket. "Heh, smoking." She raised her eyebrows at Luke. "Laugh, you."

Luke let out a half-hearted 'ha.'

"Well, it's a start." Lorelai faced the movie once more but left her hand on Luke's thigh, drumming her fingers on the denim and dragging her fingernails across it absentmindedly. Luke choked on his gallbladder, which had just traveled from his stomach to his throat in an impressive 1.2 seconds.

Breathing deeply. Breathing deeply. Not letting it get to you.

Lorelai turned to him. "Uh, are you okay? You sound like you just ran a ten-k. Or you're a dog."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm good. All's well. I just like to breath. You know? It's good for you. People don't do it enough these days. Not enough breathing going on."

Lorelai raised her eyebrows at him, a mischievous smile growing on her face. "I agree." She turned back to the movie and began rubbing his thigh, applying a little more pressure.

"Stop that?"

"Stop what?" questioned Lorelai innocently.

"That… thing you're doing," he replied, his voice slightly strangled.

"Try and be more vague, please."

"You know."

"No I don't."

"The thing, with the hand."

Lorelai smiled. "You mean this?" She slid her fingers a little towards the inseam of his pants.

"Y-y-yes," he snapped. "Stop it."

"Sorry. I didn't know you didn't like it."

"It's not that," he assured.

Lorelai narrowed her eyes a little at him. "What's happening with you and Nicole?"

"How did your mind get there?" asked Luke, exasperated slightly at the overwhelmity of Lorelai's randomness.

"Don't question my mind's ways."

"I never will again."

"Seriously, though. Are you guys getting divorced?"

Luke took a deep breath. "Nope."

Lorelai's face was the kind that you'd want to take a picture of and show to kindergarteners in a slideshow with the teacher saying, "This is what surprised looks like. Now let's move on to the emotion 'betrayed' as Jackson watches Sookie taste-testing another man's zucchini. No dirtiness intended there. You're too young for that anyway."

"You… you're not?" asked Lorelai, withdrawing her hand from Luke's leg.

"No, no, wait," replied Luke hurriedly. "We're not getting divorced because we already are divorced. I signed the final papers last night."

Lorelai relaxed instantly and tried to hide her relief. "Oh. Oh. Well then… I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

"Oh. I guess I'm not either then." She smiled at him.

Luke returned the smile gruffly. "It's just… well, I didn't love her. You know? It's better this way."

Lorelai paused there, fingering the fringe at the edge of the blanket quietly. "If you didn't love her then why did you get married?"

Luke heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure. It seemed like my only chance, kind of. Like a last resort. It's stupid."

"Yeah, it is stupid, Luke. Nicole's not your only chance." She put her hand back on his thigh comfortingly.

The corner of his mouth twitched at her. "I guess you're right."

"Well, I am sorry you had to go through all that."

"Ah, that's okay. There's still good news."

Lorelai grinned. "You just saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico?"

"No. If I was still with Nicole, I probably wouldn't be sitting here watching this insane movie and seeing you rot your teeth out before me."

"You have this way of turning a compliment for me into something terrible-sounding," giggled Lorelai.

"Yeah, well, it's a gift." The smiles slowly left faces, and Lorelai and Luke just sat there, staring at each other. Suddenly Lorelai leaned in and buried her face in Luke's neck, winding her free arm around him. Luke breathed in her hair again, this time a little more freely, and shifted his arms to Lorelai's back. Lorelai's other hand was still on Luke's leg. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing the feel of the other in their arms. Lorelai twiddled the hairs on the nape of Luke's neck in her fingers. Luke dragged his hand across Lorelai's back. He could feel Lorelai's breath on his neck.

Lorelai closed her eyes, intoxicated with his cologney-burgery smell. Only slightly aware of what she was doing, she pressed her lips to his neck. She felt Luke exhale deeply and she did it again, this time for a little longer. With Luke's encouragement, she began to kiss up his neck and his jaw. His blue eyes pierced through her own as she reached his face.

"What are we doing?" asked Lorelai softly, staring into his darkened eyes.

"What does it matter?" replied Luke, and he kissed her.

Lorelai folded her legs underneath herself, leaning into the kiss with soft moans. Her hands on his neck and thigh coaxed Luke down onto the sofa horizontally, and she lay on top of him. Luke's hands wandered all over Lorelai, relishing each second he touched her. The experience of making out like a teenager with Lorelai Gilmore, who was on top of him on her couch, was extremely surreal. That concept, and any other partially rational thought he might have been having, flew from his from his as her tongue slipped into his open mouth. Her moans began to mingle with his own.

And on the screen of the forgotten movie, the Girl Scout massacre continued.