Stupid Vs. Stupendous

The lights were out when she got there, which wasn't surprising since it was after midnight and this was Stars Hollow, after all. She'd talked herself into and out of this decision a dozen times on the way over, which is why it had taken her almost two hours to walk less than half a mile. She stood in front of the darkened door for a long time and wondered if he really was asleep, if he really could sleep after what had happened. She couldn't, but maybe he could; maybe it didn't matter to him like it mattered to her. She stopped herself from thinking that, because if she thought that then she shouldn't be here, and she shouldn't be doing this.

She reached out for the doorknob and turned it, but it didn't turn because it was locked. Locked-up, she thought. Which wasn't surprising since it was after midnight, and this was Stars Hollow, after all. The whole town was probably locked-up. Or if they're not, they should be. She almost smiled, wishing there was someone with her who would appreciate that thought- Rory, who would laugh, or Luke, who would agree whole-heartedly.

Luke. She didn't want to do this loudly; it seemed wrong. The door was locked, he was upstairs, there was no way he would know she was there unless she threw rocks at his window and yelled for him to come down, and she didn't want to do that. But she didn't want to leave, either. She fidgeted with the hem of her jacket and finally just sat down on the front steps, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring into space.

This is crazy. The thought echoed her earlier musings. I'm crazy, we're all crazy…you have to be to live here, you have to be insane. She'd always wondered why the opposite of sane was insane; why wasn't it unsane, or nonsane? Nonsane actually made sense; it sounded like nonsense, which was what this train of thought was. But insane? It was like saying you were in a place, and it didn't really make any sense because if you were in sane then wouldn't you be even saner than normal? There should be a town called Sane, she thought idly, then when your mother called you and asked where you were, you could say 'I'm in Sane right now, but I'll be home for dinner.'

She pictured her own mother's reaction to such news and almost laughed. Emily never appreciated her jokes, which Lorelai knew all too well. It was partly just to annoy her mother that she continued to make them- well, actually, making jokes was just part of who she was, annoying her mother was an extra bonus. She knew this; she knew she made jokes when she was uncomfortable, or intimidated, or uncertain. She knew she made jokes to avoid or diffuse potentially painful scenarios. She knew she was making jokes to herself this very minute to put off thinking about what to do with Luke. And she knew she had screwed this up royally. What ridiculously optimistic thought process had driven her from the comfort and safety of her own house, determined to throw herself into Luke's arms? She snorted derisively at her own starry-eyed fantasy. It didn't work that way.

Luke was her friend, her best friend after Rory and Sookie, and he was always there. He was in her life, and there was no way he was suddenly going to be out of her life now- she couldn't handle that, couldn't even imagine that, not after all this time. But she had just put their relationship on a scale so complicated it went beyond the plot of a Russian novel, and she hadn't thought at all about what would happen after. Stupid. Not the kissing- that hadn't been stupid at all, in fact it had been far from stupid. Stupendous, was more like it. But the not thinking about the post-kiss situation had been very, very stupid. What did they have now? Friendship, or relationship? Friendship and relationship? Frelationship? How did people make this awkward transition from friends to more-than-friends? She was going to have to figure it out, because she was the one who had started it. The ball was so totally in her court it was like he wasn't even playing, and as much as she liked to be in control of every other aspect of her life, she half-wished that Luke was the one sitting on the front steps at twelve-seventeen on a Friday night worrying about what to do, what to say to him.

Although Luke wouldn't be trying to figure out what to say to himself, she mentally corrected. He probably never said anything to himself, he saved his minimal verbaging for other people. Mostly her. Luke talked to her, Luke smiled at her, Luke laughed with her. Dammit, he was an amazing guy. Her amazing guy. Waiting for her, all this time. Just on the other side of that big, black hole.

She drew in a long, shaky breath and leaned forward to rest her head on her knees; she felt totally and utterly drained, from the week, from dinner, and now from this. Satisfied that it had finally accepted what her heart had been telling it for heaven knows how long, and at a complete loss as to what to do next, her mind contented itself with drifting, thinking aimless thoughts mainly to do with her shoes, which she happened to be staring at.

I do love boots, she mused superficially. I have some great brown boots- oooh, and the pink ones with the furry tops that Rory says make me look like a Go-Go…Her mind suddenly seized up when another pair of boots, not pink or furry, appeared in front of her. Luke's boots.

Her head snapped up and she met his eyes for the tiniest second before she looked away again.

"Hey." He sounded tired, uncertain, confused- which she knew he had every right to be.

"Hi," she replied hesitantly. He stood there for a long moment, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his old green army jacket. Without even realizing it she shifted ever so slightly to the side, unconsciously encouraging him to sit beside her. He did, sighing loudly as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His sleeve brushed her arm and she shivered. It was cold, she told herself, and the cold-concrete-step-butt combination was a pain in the- well, a pain in the butt.

"It's kinda funny," he commented, almost casually. She froze- did he know she'd been thinking about butts? No way- but still, she gave him the patented Lorelai, what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about? look.

"I've been sitting on your front steps for the last hour and a half trying to figure out what to say to you."

"Oh," was all she could say. She swallowed. "Any luck?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, well, I figured," she said, sounding not at all surprised.

"Hey, you kissed me," he retorted defensively. "You figure it out."

"So why don't you kiss me and we'll call it even?" Stupid, stupid thing to say, she scolded herself. Wit and sarcasm, while always a joy, were definitely, definitely the wrong tools to use right now. Stupid. She couldn't look at him- she didn't want to see his face, his expression. As soon as she decided not to look at him she had the overwhelming urge to do so- what had he looked like when she told him to kiss her? Skeptical- annoyed- hopeful? Damn, damn, damn, this was going to be even worse than she'd imagined, and she'd imagined scenarios like in the hopelessly cheesy soap operas she wouldn't admit to watching.

She snuck a peek out of the corner of her eye; he was staring at the ground, his hair falling forward slightly. She liked Luke's hair- the parts of it that weren't receding faster than an ebb tide right before a tsunami- and she never saw it- it was always under his backwards baseball cap. He looked good tonight, hair visible, no flannel- although she had to admit she liked his flannel, no matter how much she tormented him about it. He just looked good, period, and she wondered why she'd never noticed before how attractive he was. She'd told him he looked good, once- accidentally, and he'd never let her live it down. He wasn't hot, he wasn't cute, he was Luke- and now she was realizing that he was hot cute Luke. Damn again.

"Did you mind?" she found herself asking, then blushed, which was something she rarely did.

"What?"

She had to smile; that was like his favorite word, or maybe he only said it to her all the time because he didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"Um- before, in the-" she waved her hand vaguely behind them- "when- when I…" She gulped. "Did you mind?"

He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "God, Lorelai," he said fervently, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Of course not."

"Oh." She took a deep, deep breath, summoned all her courage, and told him, "Me neither."

She felt, rather than saw, him jerk in astonishment and turn towards her. "What?" he breathed, hands clenched so tightly together his knuckles turned white.

"I didn't mind," she repeated, feeling dizzy. She clutched the fabric of her pants stretched over her knees just to have something to hold on to. Something else, she needed to say something else. "In fact, if you want, we could do it again sometime." She closed her eyes in absolute frustration with herself- she hadn't meant to say that, it was the complete opposite of the right thing to say, he was going to think she was a desperate lunatic, or worse, that this was only a casual thing to her. She felt like crying from this overload of emotion. She was good at talking. It was her thing, everybody said so, some in a not-so-complimentary way, but still, she should have this covered. And if she didn't do the talking it would never get said, because this was Luke and he wasn't good at talking. She did her best to calm herself down before she looked at him, and then tried again before she turned to him.

"Luke, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

And then she couldn't say anything else because he was kissing her, he was kissing her, and the second after their lips met she had completely forgotten what it was she had intended to say. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, and she felt so comfortable, so safe. This was right; she didn't need to say it, because he knew it and she knew it, and she also knew now that he was a pretty damn terrific kisser and she would be quite happy to sit here on this lovely, warm concrete step and kiss him all night long.

Her lungs were of a different opinion, however, and she couldn't ignore their demands for oxygen indefinitely. She pulled away gently, but not far away; suddenly she couldn't remember how she'd ever existed without the feel of his arms around her waist or his forehead against hers.

"I've wanted to do that for a long, long, time," he told her, his voice thick and catching in his throat. She closed her eyes for a second, coming to terms with the fact that Luke had cared about her that way, all this time, just like everyone had told her- Rory, Miss Patty, Babette, Sookie, Max, Jess, of all people, God, even her mother.

"What, finally shut me up?" she asked teasingly, though she still felt breathless and light-headed.

He grinned. "That, too."

She shook her head, becoming serious again. "I didn't know, Luke," she said, almost as an apology. "I didn't know that this- that you- that I- that I wanted this. And I wish to God I had known sooner, because I do. I do want this, so very much, and that's a really big deal for me to think that, let alone say it, because it's you, and you're-" She stopped anxiously, but forced herself to go on. "Tonight my mother called you 'my Luke,'" she said simply. "And you are."

His arms tightened around her and she pressed her face against his shoulder, biting her lip to hold back the tears. It freaked Luke out when she cried; she didn't think he'd mind right now, but still.

"It's my fault," he said softly against her hair, voice filled with guilt and regret. "I knew. I knew a long time ago, and I didn't say anything. There was just too much in the way, too much to lose, and- well, you know how much I hate change," he finished lightly, trying to ease the burden of repressed feelings that weighed them both down. She sniffed loudly and drew back to look at him.

"That's too bad, you know, 'cause I was going to pay off my five-thousand-seven-hundred-and-something tab in quarters," she laughed quickly. He smiled at her, a rare Luke smile that only she ever got to see, and she smiled slowly back at him.

"Lorelai…" he murmured, and then they were kissing again, though neither one started it and neither one ended it for a long, long, time.