It's Not Hallucinating If You Really Did See It

They were halfway home before Rory had recovered enough from the shock to start asking questions. She hadn't recovered completely; the plaintive questions still mainly consisted of "Wha- with the- and the- humma?" and "Smoo-?"

Lorelai finally turned to her. "Complete sentences might be nice," she suggested tightly. "And real words, if you think you can manage it."

All the pieces finally aligned themselves in Rory's brain and she stopped so suddenly that Lorelai, still hanging on to her daughter's arm, was jerked backwards.

"You kissed Luke!" Rory yelped accusingly.

"What are you talking about?" Lorelai asked innocently, in completely unconvincing feigned confusion.

"Just now, just there, just- kissing! Luke! You and!" Rory spluttered ungrammatically.

"Aw, honey, you're hallucinating again," Lorelai said sympathetically. "Is it time to go back and see the nice psychiatrist? He's not really scary, you know, it's his job to do those things with ink-blots-"

"Mom." Rory refused to let her avoid this.

"Time to up the drugs, huh?" Lorelai made one last attempt.

"You kissed Luke," Rory repeated seriously.

Lorelai sighed loudly and screwed up her face, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know."

They walked on in silence, Rory's thoughts churning fast enough she could make butter. She glanced at Lorelai's face as they passed in and out of the streetlight glow, but her expression was unreadable. The silence drew on so long Rory began to think that her mother wasn't going to say anything, which would be a completely anomalous and undocumented experience.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect that tonight." Lorelai's comment was sudden and abrupt, but Rory was extremely glad to see that her powers of speech had returned.

"I second that," Rory agreed whole-heartedly, blowing out a relieved breath.

"I actually think it went pretty well," Lorelai continued thoughtfully. "Any opinion you'd like to share?"

Rory's eyes widened in alarm. "Um- ah- well, I don't really think it's mentally healthy for me to have an opinion on that particular situation," she said, as delicately as possible.

"Oh, come on Rory, you were there- what did you think?" Lorelai pressed unrelentingly.

"I think- I don't know- your eyes were closed, that's probably good," Rory offered helplessly, looking everywhere but at Lorelai and feeling ridiculously uncomfortable.

"Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Luke?"

"No."

"Oh."

"You thought I was asking you how well I'd kissed Luke?" Lorelai sounded incredulous and a tiny bit disgusted.

"Well, stranger things have happened," Rory retorted stiffly, blushing. "Especially with you." She tried not to notice her mother's amused smirk. "And why aren't you talking about Luke, anyway?"

"I was talking about dinner," Lorelai explained quickly, not sure which subject would be safer to pursue, but sticking with the one that didn't involve kissing.

"What about dinner?"

"It was unexpected."

"And, we're right back where we started," Rory announced in frustration. "Mom, you don't talk in circles, you talk in dodecahedrons."

"No, listen, I'm trying to figure something out," Lorelai persisted, quite seriously. "Dinner."

"In my personal opinion, I don't think dinner should be at the top of your list of things to figure out right now," Rory sighed patiently. "Something else should- it starts with 'L-' and ends in '-uke.'"

"Just humor me, would you?" Lorelai demanded crossly.

"Fine, sorry. Dinner?"

"Two weeks ago, when Grandpa said 'let's have dinner at Luke's,' what did you think?"

"Oh boy, retroactive thinking," Rory muttered, not quietly enough.

"Rory…"

"Sorry, sorry. I thought- dinner at Luke's, a normal night for us, with the grandparents along."

"Yes!" Lorelai pounced on the information. "A normal night. And what, exactly, constitutes a normal night at Luke's?"

Rory sighed at this painfully cumbersome examination of the night's events, but played along. They were almost home, and the thought of Mallomars buoyed her spirits.

"A normal night at Luke's means burgers," she began obediently. "It means lots of fries and lots of coffee, with Luke in his backwards baseball hat grumbling around, annoyed because you're being- er- your usual, charming self," she improvised brightly at Lorelai's suspicious look.

"Nice save," Lorelai eyed her knowingly, but motioned for her to continue.

"It means a totally gross description of the food when Luke brings it to the table, and it means half the town coming in and out doing bizarre and crazy things," Rory finished. "And you knew all that, so why'd you make me say it?"

"Because tonight wasn't normal," Lorelai tried to explain, puzzled. "It was…different. It was a big-deal different. Luke made duck. Not burgers, not pancakes, not Monte Cristo sandwiches, but actual edible food that my parents wouldn't misconstrue as roadkill. He put a tablecloth on the table. I never thought I'd see a tablecloth in Luke's, not unless Jess scratched something obscene into one of the table tops. He got dressed up and he took off his hat, and he closed the whole diner!" her voice got louder and more incredulous as she finished the list.

"He planned it all out!" she continued in amazement. "It was a huge favor for him just to let us all come and taint his diner with our Friday night dinner, and then he went and did this! Can you imagine how long all that preparation took? He must have been cooking all day! And he had to buy a shirt."

"He probably already had the shirt," Rory put her practical two cents in.

"Why?" Lorelai demanded, shaking her head. "Why did he do it?"

Rory smiled at Lorelai's obvious bafflement; she really had no clue. "He did it because he's secretly in love with you, and he would stand on his head wearing a pink tutu if he thought it would make you happy," she explained painstakingly.

"That's so not true," Lorelai responded witheringly.

Rory shrugged. "Maybe not the tutu," she answered seriously. "But he cares about you, Mom. I mean really cares about you. Can't you see it?"

Lorelai bit her lip as she unlocked the front door, heading through the dark house towards the kitchen. Automatically she flipped on the coffeepot while Rory switched on the lights and rooted in the cupboard for the brand-new box of Mallomars.

"I think I did see it tonight," she finally answered quietly. "I think that's why I… kissed him."

Rory studied her mother carefully. "Did you want to?" she asked uncomfortably. She had never been completely at ease talking about her mother's love life, and the wild thought that maybe her mother's love life included Luke was really not helping the situation.

"I don't know," Lorelai admitted. "I didn't think about it, it just happened, like an automatic reflex. This is so weird. What am I doing? It's Luke, for God's sake."

"It's Luke," Rory agreed carefully.

"I don't want to hurt him," Lorelai said uncomfortably, to her coffee cup.

"Oh, Mom, you won't hurt him," Rory said comfortingly. She patted Lorelai's hand and offered her the box of cookies.

"I will," Lorelai argued, quietly but firmly. "Just- look at my track record, kid. I'm not good with men, not long-term, anyway. I always hold something back, I do something or say something that ends it, and then I'm upset and he's upset and I feel guilty because I know I ended it because I was scared. And I would hate myself if I did that to Luke." She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Hell, I already did it to him tonight. I kissed him, panicked, and ran, like a Barcelona-sized pack of bulls was after me."

"This is different," Rory said, knowing there was certainty behind her words. "He won't let you hurt him. Luke's stronger than you think, Mom. He knows you. He's seen you in those relationships before, he knows how you work, he knows what you do. He knows you're unbelievably high-maintenance-" she blinked as the Mallomar Lorelai flicked at her glanced off her forehead- "but he can handle it." She shrugged, smiling, as she issued her last revelation. "He knows you, Mom- but he pulled a Martha Stewart for you tonight anyway."

Lorelai didn't respond, just sat sipping her coffee thoughtfully. She was out of good arguments, and even if she had them, she wasn't sure now if she wanted to make them. Did she want to talk herself out of a relationship with Luke? It sounded so terrifying and yet so safe at the same time. There would be no escape, even if she thought she wanted it. Luke wouldn't let her run away for childish, selfish reasons- there would have to be a major calamity to end an era of Luke-and-Lorelai. For a moment it sounded too confining for her restless, independent heart. Someone who thought he knew what she wanted and what was good for her, and wouldn't let her ruin what she had? Lorelai wasn't unaware of the strange and unwelcome parallel with her parents that that thought called up.

But secretly she wondered if she unconsciously craved security and partnership, since she'd lived so long without it. She was strong when she was alone; she didn't know if it was possible for her to be strong and together. How could she control her own life if she became completely dependent on Luke? She didn't kid herself- she knew she was pretty dependent on Luke anyway, since he cooked her food, made her coffee, repaired her house, and served as her sounding board. But that was different to becoming dependent on Luke for her happiness. Emotional involvement with anyone was scary, because she always worried about what would happen when the connection broke- a scenario she now cynically expected for no reason other than it had happened to her so many times before. What on earth would she do without Luke, if it ever came to that? The idea was completely unfathomable even now, while he was still technically "only" her friend. She didn't have an escape plan, an emergency evacuation, for the current situation, let alone for a time when Luke would be so integral to her life and to her Lorelai-ness that losing him would be like losing an arm or leg. She couldn't even begin to construct an idea of how she would go on living an as-close-to-normal life as possible; a future without Luke just loomed in her mind like a dark, black, empty abyss. She was willing to pay almost any price to safeguard herself from that nothingness. Almost any price. Pursuing this new, exciting, and exhilarating development in their relationship might lead her awfully close to that big black hole, but did that mean she shouldn't even try? Was she willing to give up what could turn out to be the best and most fulfilling thing in her life so she could shelter and protect herself from something that might not ever happen? She thought she was stronger than that. She thought she was better than that.

Still, it was awfully scary to think about braving that nothingness all by herself. Except Luke would be there, she suddenly thought. Neatly, everything clicked into place, and she fully realized the importance of what Rory had told her. 'I don't want to hurt him,' she'd fearfully confided. 'He won't let you,' Rory had replied. He wouldn't let her hurt him, and he wouldn't let her hurt herself. He would hold her hand and lead her safely away from that horrifying, lonely abyss; he would be her refuge from her own doubts; he would promise her safety and security when she could no longer trust herself; and he would forgive her because he would always know that she never really meant it.

So what the hell are you waiting for, Gilmore? She demanded of herself helplessly.

"Mom?" Rory's voice broke into her reverie. Lorelai blinked and focused her eyes on her daughter, who looked a little curious that Lorelai had all but abandoned a perfectly good cup of coffee. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Lorelai nodded and got up from her chair purposefully. She brushed the Mallomar crumbs off the table into her half-empty cup, took the cup to the sink, and carefully rinsed it out. Then she re-buttoned her jacket, swallowed hard, and announced, "I'm going back."

"To the diner?" Rory confirmed, trying to keep her own excitement and expectations out of her voice.

"To the diner," Lorelai answered with a wry half-smile. "And God knows where I'm going from there."