A/N: Here's another story for ya! This thing was written in parts. A section here, a section there… And I've finally finished! Be sure to tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: They're not mine. But what I would do to meet them…

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Lorelai was a runner. Not in the physical sense, no. She hated athletics. But when it came to relationships, she was an Olympic track star.

First, she ran from 'The Plan'. 'The Plan' came over on the Mayflower, as she always put it. There was no changing it. 'The Plan' was for her to go to college, marry a rich, handsome man, and become a trophy wife in the DAR.

But, of course, she ran.

She partied. She drank. She had sex. She skipped school. She tried as hard as she could to beat 'The Plan' to the finish line.

And she did. Lorelai outran 'The Plan' the second she saw pink.

Except now she had new competition.

Christopher.

This time she wasn't running for herself. She was running for him.

She knew he wasn't ready. He couldn't be a father. And there was no way she was getting married at sixteen.

Lorelai knew Christopher would try to do the right thing, even if it wasn't what he wanted. She was going to let him off the hook. He could have the rest of his childhood.

Even if she couldn't.

And after Rory was born, another race began.

The race against her parents.

Richard and Emily wanted their granddaughter for themselves. They wanted to turn her into the perfect daughter that they never had. They wanted to take her under their wing and keep her in the sheltered world of the civilized society that they lived in.

So she snatched up her daughter and ran.

She ended up in Stars Hollow.

While Rory grew up at the Independence Inn, Lorelai took a break from running, save the occasional dash from her parents' attempts to contact her.

But then she started dating again. This was where her running skills came in handy. Every time things started to get too serious, when he started to know her too well, she would bolt.

And start the whole process over again. It was like clockwork.

She was so busy running through her life that she never really noticed him. Sure, she saw him every day, but she was never really looking. She'd run in, order coffee, exchange some playful banter, pay, and run out.

So she missed all of the signs that everyone else saw so clearly. The staring. The extra effort to be nice. The green spark of jealousy in his eyes every time she had a new boyfriend.

She only saw them through her blurred vision.

But one day, after a particularly excruciating breakup, she stopped running for a moment. She entered the diner, sat on a stool, and was completely still. And when he walked out of the kitchen and poured her coffee, she saw it all.

She saw the way he looked at her. She saw that something in his eyes.

He asked if she was okay, because he knew her well enough to know that everything wasn't right. Something was different, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Lorelai nodded, telling him in a shaky voice that she was fine.

But she wasn't.

She was scared out of her mind.

Never before had she seen or felt a tension, a longing, such as this. Now, finally, as he went about his business, she could feel the heat of his stolen glances against her back. She felt the 'unintentional' brush of his hand against hers as he refilled her cup and passed it across the counter to her.

The second he reentered the kitchen; she put her forehead against the cool counter.

How could she have missed it all?

She bit her lip. She wasn't ready for this.

Not yet, anyway.

She raised her head and watched him work, smiling slightly.

One day, she'd be ready. She was sure of it.

And when that day came, she'd know exactly where to come.

She'd get tired of running eventually.

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End