A/N: Again, the pretty people don't belong to me, they belong to the wonderous Amy Sherman-Palladino
A/N2: Story took a bit of a twist. Not sure if this is going to remain a fluffy tale. Reviews and plot ideas are greatly appreciated, thanks!
Chapter Two
Lorelai had worked nonstop since arriving at the Independence Inn that morning. The tourist group she had booked for nearly two weeks later had arrived just a tad early, and Lorelai and Michel had been challenged with finding them new room and board. Finally, lunch had rolled around, and Lorelai was in desperate need of coffee. Shuffling into the kitchen, she called out to Sookie.
"Hey Hun, how's it going in here?"
Sookie St. James's head, sporting a bright blue band-aid near her eyebrow, popped up from behind a low counter. "Hiya! Things are going pretty good in here, there was a bit of an issue before with Henry, but things are worked out now."
Picking up a piece of chocolate off of one of Sookie's recent culinary works, Lorelai questioned, "Who's Henry?"
Not missing a beat, Sookie replied, "Jackson's chicken."
"Jackson has a chicken? Since when does Jackson have a chicken?" Lorelai had stopped halfway to the coffee machine. "Please explain."
Sookie stood and continued bustling about the kitchen as Lorelai sat on a stray standing stool. "Well, Jackson's niece, Brittany, had a science project where she had to raise a chicken, and she didn't need it anymore, so Jackson said he'd take the little… flocker… and now the thing's been running around like, well, a chicken with its head cut off, all weekend. I can't stand it." She was gesticulating wildly with a large very sharp looking knife as she continued, "Damn bird was hiding in the cabinet this morning, and when I went to get out my cookie sheets, Henry jumped out at me, and clawed my forehead!" She pointed to the bright blue band-aid.
Just then, a crash emanated from somewhere in the back of kitchen. Sookie did an about-face and ran to the scene of the crime. Looking at her watch, Lorelai realized that she could afford to take an hour off for lunch, which left her more than enough time to swing by Luke's for some exceptional coffee. She'd rather head over there than risk being clawed by Jackson's chicken.
Within ten minutes, Lorelai had parked the Jeep out front, and was strolling into the diner. It was practically empty, pardoning Kirk, Gypsy and Andrew… and Taylor Doose. He was practically leaning over the counter as he told Luke about the Annual Campout Under the Stars Event that would be taking place that Saturday night. Taylor had flyers.
Uh-oh. Taylor's got flyers. This is gonna be a good one… ha! She thought, setting her purse on the counter as she listened intently.
"Luke, I don't think you understand the ramifications of this event…" Taylor said, wagging his finger in Luke's face.
"Ramifications, my ass, Taylor. You and I both know that this campout is just an excuse to throw a big party in the so-called name of some fictitious character that probably didn't even exist!" Luke glared as he paced back and forth behind the counter.
Lorelai couldn't help but smile because she loved it when Luke ranted. His face turned slightly red, the vein in his neck throbbed and he always thrust his finger or fist in the direction of the subject of his rant.
"But Luke, if you would just…" Taylor stammered. Pushing the flyers towards Luke.
"No, Taylor. Get out, and take your damn flyers with you!" Luke gestured towards the door as he pushed the flyers back into Taylor's arms. With a huff, Taylor was heading out and just to piss Luke off, he dropped a few of the flyers at the tables on his way out the door.
Luke readjusted his backwards cap, and rubbed is face with his hands. When he looked up again, he noticed Lorelai and his expression instantly softened.
She was sitting at her usual seat, legs crossed and arms folded on the surface of the counter. The grin she wore on her face was slightly lopsided and her head was tilted as she peered at Luke through thick lashes. For the second time that day, his heart thudded loudly in his chest.
"It's lunch and you are here, so I'm assuming you want coffee," he said, reaching for the blue mug she favored.
"You know me so well…" she laughed, "Fabulous rant there, Rambo. Quite possibly one of your best." Again she laughed, and the knot in Luke's chest tightened considerably. He filled her cup, and slid it across the counter in her direction.
But before he could reply, a shrill ringing sounded from somewhere inside Lorelai's coach purse. Mid-sip, she pulled out her cell phone and checked the number. Recognizing it as Rory's, she flipped it open, completely ignoring Luke's protests and gestures towards the sign that declared "No Phones".
"Speak to me, babe," she said taking a bite out of the danish Luke had placed in front of her.
An unfamiliar voice responded. "Ms. Lorelai Gilmore? Are you the mother of a Ms. Rory Gilmore?"
The coffee cup that had been in transit to Lorelai's mouth hit the counter with a clatter.
"Yes, I am." Fear instantly speared through her like lightning through an unsuspecting sky. "Who am I speaking with, and what happened to my daughter?"
Luke had seen the cup fall, the look on her face, and had rounded that counter in record time.
"Ma'am, your daughter was in an accident."
TBC... R&R folks!