That Fateful Day in Luke's
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Gilmore Girls. Well, other than having all 5 seasons on DVD and watching the show religiously…None of these characters are mine, unless I make some up, but that'll be obvious 33
Summary: This takes place way before season 1, when Luke and Lorelai first met. Switching points-of-view, Luke and Lorelai's relationship grows into something neither of them dreamed of. Note: may not take the course of the actual show, other than main events like Lorelai's graduation and Rory's graduation and crap like that.
Chapter 2: LorelaiA/N: Okay, I'm sorry that last chapter was so short! Thank you all who reviewed for your kindness. From now on, I will aim to get the chapters at least 1500 words long, so it probably won't be shorter than chapter 1! And of course, thank you my beat (no, I meant to spell it that way), OkGoPrettyMuchRules, who totally tripels (don't ask)!
"Mommy, when do we get coffee?" Rory, my eleven-year old daughter, asks. Thanks to my caffeine addiction, I could not stop drinking coffee during my pregnancy, thus ensuring Rory's future as a coffee addict.
"Kid, I'm trying to look for a place," I reply, smiling down at my glowing child, the spitting image of her mother, if I may say so myself. Rory, desperate for coffee just like me, looks around in hopes of finding—
"What about that place?" she points across the street to a…what is it exactly? A diner? A hardware store? There is a sign above the door that reads William's Hardware, but beside it is a sign of a coffee cup with Luke's Diner on it. Looking inside, I strain my eyes to see tables and a man around my age, maybe a little older, bustling around taking orders. Yep, definitely a diner.
"I think we've found coffee, hon!" I congratulate my one and only offspring, looking both ways before crossing the street. Rory, with a look of extreme satisfaction painted on her face, clasped my hand in her tiny little one and crossed the street with me to the diner.
Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Gah! I jump at the noise. God, that bell is obnoxious. As soon as I get some coffee in me, I am so getting the owner to dump the bell. "AH!" I exclaim, almost running into the guy dressed like a lumberjack—red plaid shirt, jeans, and a grey backwards baseball cap—whose back is to me.
"Take a seat; I'll be right with you," the guy I almost knocked into says, not turning around from the table he is wiping with an incredible amount of concentration. Fine way to greet your customers!
Ushering Rory to a table by the window, I sit down and follow the mystery diner lumberjack man around with my eyes. I'm only seeing his backside, and, I gotta say, I'm not disappointed. It's a nice butt. It has a nice shape to it. I entertain myself by staring at his gorgeous butt and tapping my fingers on a table for ten seconds…twenty…forty-five…a minute…a minute thirty seconds…two minutes. Okay, so, apparently, by "be right with you" he meant "be right with you in a hundred years." God, I get kinda melodramatic when I don't have coffee in my system.
"Where are you going?" Rory asks as I get up from my seat. I point to…whoever that guy is. "Oh, okay."
Now, I'm physically following lumberjack dude around, asking and begging for coffee, the heavenly concoction that keeps me sane, though some would like to oppose that fact. They say it makes me even crazier! Shows how much they know.
"You're annoying!" he declares, his back still to me. "Shut up, sit down. I'll get to you when I get to you!" Uh, nice way to talk to paying customers! Humph-ing, I turn my head and walk over to a bald, bearded guy in a cardigan.
"Excuse me can I borrow your horoscope page, please?" I ask him. The man turns his head, smiles, and kindly offers me the paper.
"What do you think you're—" the grungy guy starts to say, but he stops short, obviously taking in my appearance. Smirking, I take this opportunity to look at this man. His butt was not his only attribute. He looks like what I would imagine a Greek god to look like. Whatever skin is visible has a nice bronze tint to it, and it contrasts extremely well with his true blue eyes. His dark hair curls underneath the tattered grey (A/N: I'm spelling it like that on purpose in honor of Grey's) cap. God, he's hot. Trying to hide my lust,—bet you ten bucks my mouth is hanging open—I straighten up and flip my hair.
"I'm just getting part of the newspaper!" I cover, waving the paper in front of his face. "What is there a rule of some sort against that? Is some crazed lunatic gonna come at me and snatch this away from me if I take it, or would you just do that? It's not like it would make a difference!" I soften my features at seeing the hurt expression painted all over the grungy god's face. "I'm sorry. I get crabby when I don't have any coffee in my system," I confess.
"Mommy, Mommy! When can we go to the bookstore? I wanna see if they have The Fountainhead in, yet!" Rory comes bounding up to me. God, a minute ago she was dead to the world. Harper Lee coming back to life wouldn't have gotten her this hyper. Glancing at the man in front of me, I inwardly revel in his confused expression.
"How old are you?" he asks. Who is he talking to?
"Twenty-seven, and this little girl—" I hug my daughter "—is eleven."
"B-but, then that would mean you had…er…what's her name?" His bemused expression is enough to make me laugh out loud.
"Lorelai" Rory clearly states.
"And what's your name?" the man asks me.
"Lorelai." Ah, this part is the most fun: confusing the hell out of unsuspecting people.
"I thought she was Lorelai!" he points to Rory. Ah, he must be kicking himself right now. He sounds like an idiot; a cute one, but an idiot nonetheless.
"No, no, we're both named Lorelai. You see, I was lying in the hospital wondering why guys could name their kids after themselves but girls couldn't. I was wacked out on Demerol and—I probably didn't need to tell you that. Everyone calls my daughter Rory, to keep it simple," I finish, smiling.
"Okay. So what do I call you?" he asks. I stand corrected. Now he must be kicking himself. He sounds like Mathew Broderick in Inspector Gadget 2.
"Uh…Lorelai," I answer. Kinda obvious! "Hey, what's your birthday?"
"My birthday? Why the hell do you wanna know my birthday?" I ask, bewildered.
"Because I'm freakish, and I want to know everybody's birthday until I have filled all 366 days of the year!" I laugh, smiling at him.
"There are only 365 days in a year," burger boy corrects. Hmm, I like that nickname. I'm so calling him that from now on!
"One, I was talking about February 29th, and two, I was joking. Just tell me your birthday! Or at least tell me your sign!" I pester burger boy, following him around the diner as he refills coffee mugs.
"My what?" he whips around, probably thinking I said something dirty.
"Your sign, tell me your astrological sign!" I follow him behind the counter, still clutching the horoscope page in my hand.
"What are you doing?" the guy looks at me, apparently challenging me by staring looking straight at my face.
"Is this a trick question?" I mean, seriously, how do I respond to that?
"You're behind the counter," the dude states, steering me out by my shoulders. Geez, I'm not Juliana DePandi!
"Ah! God, what's your damage, Heather?" I say as I trip and turn around to look at him, a bemused expression on my face.
"Ugh, never mind. Now tell me your sign!" I lean over the counter, my face so close to his that I can see his long eyelashes…kinda sexy.
"Scorpio, there, are you happy?" burger boy bursts.
"Thank you!" I squeal and bend over the horoscope page now lying on the counter. "Hey, do you mind?" I reach across and pull the pencil out from Scorpio's ear, my fingers brushing his face. "Thanks!"
Looking down at the horoscope, I read what it says really quickly.
Scorpio
When it comes to showing someone how much you care, you're like a little kid. You'll do anything it takes to ensure that they get the message, depending on your mood, straight out, and you may tell them by tucking a rose under their windshield wiper -- anonymously, of course -- because, of course, they'll know it's from you. Regardless of how you handle it, you'll go with both barrels blazing, and you'll do a fine job, too.
How cheesy, but true in some cases. Thank God, I'm not a Scorpio. I scribble something down after thinking for a minute.
You will meet an annoying woman, today. Give her coffee, and she'll go away.
Satisfied that I will accomplish my task, I tear out the Scorpio section and hand it to burger boy. After reading the horoscope, he gives in and hands me a cup of hot coffee. Muahaha! People say I'm way too persuasive for my own good. "Happy?"
"Very…but can you give me another one please?" I plead. His confused expression—eyes scrunched up and nose wrinkled—is a thing I will treasure for years to come.
"What? Why?" He asks.
"For Rory!" I motion to my daughter, who comes up and makes a puppy dog face, begging for coffee. Nice, she's pulling out the big guns.
"You're kidding, right? The kid is eleven!"
"Yes, but she is her mother's daughter, so fill 'er up!" I smack the counter.
"Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this…" the guy reaches under the counter for another mug.
"Hey, who are you?" I ask, out of the blue.
"What do you mean? I'm Luke," Luke says. Finally, I have something to call him other than burger boy all the time.
"Very nice to meet you, Luke!" I stick out my hand so fast that I ram it into his stomach. And you know what? He doesn't even grunt! "Oops! Sorry!" I lean over the counter to see if Luke is alright.
"It's okay. I'll be right back," Luke excuses himself. I nod, smiling, and watch his butt disappear behind the curtains. God, that guy is hot. I could definitely see myself with a guy like him.
"I like him, he's funny!" Rory decides. I look to her and smile, pulling her into a hug.
"I like him, too," just maybe not in the same way…
A/N: I hope I didn't disappoint! Review, review!
