A/N: An alternate way of Luke and Lorelai getting together after the first half of "Luke Can See Her Face" …without the self-help tapes.
Is it safe now?
Will your arms be open?
I'll just have to kiss you.
Try and stop me.
--Imogen Heap: "Closing In"
It was Monday morning, and Lorelai had spent the weekend pondering Luke. Her life was at a crossroads, and after that little conversation she and Luke had had at the inn- after she'd called him her "special friend" in order to ward off Shel, the poultry guy, after she'd wrapped Luke's arm around her with his fingers splayed across her stomach- she spent all weekend wondering, Why not?
He was single, she was single, and they both admitted to wanting that person in their life; that person they could spend the rest of their lives with, that person to love, and that person they could maybe even have kids with.
Plus, there was that little bit of a spark that traveled through her body when she'd accidentally placed Luke's hand over her breasts during the 'Shel Incident'. It was a traveling spark, like in those cartoons when Bugs Bunny, or Daffy Duck, or one of those other characters who used dynamite all the time lit a really long dynamite wick and then watched the little flame speed its way towards its goal.
Since then, she'd gone from "Hmm, Luke…" to "Could Luke and I work?" to "Boy, our kids would be cute." to "I wonder what it's like to kiss him." to "I wonder if he'd make me breakfast every morning…" and on and on.
Her only reservation was whether it was worth risking their friendship for. Was it safe to just jump in; to submerge herself in Luke and risk drowning?
By Sunday night at 4:30 in the morning, she made a decision. There was the tiniest bit of lingering doubt; doubt that maybe Luke didn't feel the same way, or that their incredible friendship was too important to risk.
But she made up her mind; she was just going to walk up to Luke in the morning and kiss him. Whatever happens happens.
Simple as that.
Yeah, right.
That morning at Luke's, she felt nervousness rising behind her sternum like bubbles in a fish tank. The regular early-morning customers flocked the diner, in her nervous mind, their early-morning chit-chat was akin to the sound of a distant lawnmower in the summertime.
Luke rounded the corner from the kitchen and Lorelai swallowed thickly. Then before she knew what was happening, words were flowing out of her mouth, and she couldn't stop them, she was like one of those warbling birds on a summer morning. Endless noise. And Luke gave her a crazy look, more amused than anything, a little bit of concern mixed in.
"What?" she finally paused.
"You," he said with a little smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.
"Me what?" she asked, flustered. She could feel the redness blossoming on her cheeks.
"Nothing." He shook his head slightly, eyes still sparkling.
He brushed past her with a plate of pancakes, and he smelled like his laundry detergent, and soap, and buttermilk, and syrup, and coffee. And the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering, adding to the fish tank in her chest and the dynamite spark down her spine.
As he returned to the counter, dirty plates in hand, she decided it was now or never. But, she couldn't do it here in front of all these people.
She followed him into the kitchen, tip-toeing at his heels as he placed the dirty dishes in the industrial-sized dishwasher. And then she got a sudden face-full of flannel as he turned around, intending to walk back the other way.
"Geez, Lorelai! What are you doing following me like that?" he stepped back just slightly. There was still barely any space between their bodies.
"I'm sorry! I just can't do this out there."
"Do what?"
"This." She said simply as she reached up, cradling his face in both of her hands and watched the realization cross his features as she gently pulled his head towards hers. She watched his arms reach out to her as she finally met his lips with hers, closing her eyes.
And there they kissed, in the kitchen of the diner, in front of the open dishwasher, underneath the shelves with the huge pickle jars and sacks of potatoes, and it was sweeter than anything she'd felt before. They kissed unhurriedly, their lips dancing over each other's, his arms wrapped around her, drawing her impossibly close to him, and it was all warmth and tenderness and affection.
She pulled away reluctantly, leaning her forehead against his, watching his face; taking in his half-closed eyelids, his slightly smiling mouth, the softness of his lips that she had just gotten to discover for the first time (and hopefully not the last).
Tracing the features of his face, his jaw, his ear, his neck with her fingers, she asked him softly, "So, Luke, you want to take me out tonight?"
"Take you out?" he asked in a tone she'd never heard from him before. It was something soft, a sweet murmur. His fingers kneaded her waist.
"Yeah, like a date. You know, you'll wear something other than flannel—don't get me wrong, I love your flannel—but, you'll wear date clothes, come to my door, I'll let you in and tell you I'm not ready yet. You'll sit on my couch and secretly read Cosmo while you wait, I'll come downstairs looking stunning, you'll sputter when you try to talk, and then I'll tell you how handsome you look, and you'll tell me how handsome I look when you actually meant "pretty" or "stunning", or "luminous" or something but were too nervous to get the word right, and then we'll leave and you'll nag me for not locking my door, and then you'll be a gentleman and open the truck door for me, and then you'll drive us to a nice restaurant or something, and we'll have a wonderful dinner, and then-"
Luke's lips were pressed against hers again, firmly, and she could feel his smile.
"So, is that a yes?" she asked, after he pulled away.
"Yes, it's a yes. I'll pick you up at seven," he said with a smile larger than most smiles she'd ever seen on him.
"Good. So, see you then?" she asked, kissing him once more for the road.
"See you then." He said, giving her hips a light squeeze before she slipped out of his hands, and around the corner.
And Lorelai decided that if the dynamite spark down her spine, and the bubbling fish tank in her chest, and the butterflies in her stomach were going to be permanent residents, then she could definitely learn to live with them.