Disclaimer: They're not mine. That is all.

Author's Note: I hope my fantabulous betas, iheartbridges, JeSouhaite, and lulabo, know how much I appreciate their help with this story. Their feedback has been so helpful.


Chapter 4 – Two weeks earlier

Frankly, he'd been surprised to see her so soon after their date. He had expected a period of avoidance, for a little time to pass before she willed herself back to the diner. But the very next day she and Rory had hurried in and plopped themselves down at their usual table.

He'd actually stopped short and stared at them for a moment, running the previous night through his head, just to be sure it had happened. The images came back in all their vivid glory: nervous hesitation practically painted on Lorelai's face all night; the slightly open-mouthed look of desperation as she stumbled painfully through conversation; the flash of fear that crossed her face the moment before she'd cut off his last-ditch effort to salvage whatever pathetic beginning they'd had.

Yes, it definitely had happened, so the fact that she'd shown up at the diner had been somewhat remarkable.

In fact, she'd sat down almost as if they hadn't had the most awkward date in the history of first dates, but just about the time he'd become conscious of his staring, she'd glanced up and given him a questioning look. Her face was tentative, like she was asking him if he'd really meant it the night before when he'd asked if she'd be at the diner the next morning. He had given her a small nod of acknowledgement, trying to keep his face expressionless, and though she hadn't smiled, she'd seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

With Rory as a buffer, they'd stumbled through their typical breakfast conversation. He tried not to be bitter about the fact that Lorelai had seemed to make more of an effort to talk to him in the middle of breakfast rush in the diner than she had during the whole of their date. After the initial shock of her showing up at all, he couldn't help but wonder at her presence, at what it meant.

He'd been relieved; he had worried that she would avoid him, but this very blatant not-avoiding and quick return to the regular routine put him off-guard. It was the same, but then again it wasn't. There had been a brittleness in her laughter and a measured quality in her voice that felt careful and forced. The tentativeness in their voices hadn't felt right, as though whatever had happened (or had not happened) had created a discordant tone in their conversation.

It had taken until the end of her second visit to the diner for him to get it, to understand the new dynamic between them. The cautious conversation had continued, normal on the surface, the difference between that and their typical dialogue probably not noticeable to a casual observer. Luke, however, could sense the nervousness and hesitation in all of their interactions and could feel what was missing.

Until it was gone, Luke hadn't realized how accustomed he had become to their flirtation, how much it was a part of their back and forth rhythm. That it was absent was the most telling thing of all.

He'd never really read anything into their mutual teasing or in the occasional sexual references they tossed about. It had always felt harmless and fun. What Luke hadn't been able to figure out recently was if its absence was intentional on her part, to keep him from misinterpreting her or to keep herself from admitting her feelings.

Whatever the reason, it seemed as though she had come back to the diner to prove to him, and perhaps to herself as well, that everything was normal between them, but she had restrained her carefree nature, had held back retorts and innuendo that had to be on the tip of her tongue.

Because those kinds of things wouldn't have been safe. And she appeared to be all about safe now.

She'd put the counter metaphorically and literally back in between them and it felt like he had no choice but to play along.

He hated the pretending.

It had been about a week and Lorelai had begun come in on her own, without Rory as an escort. She would sit the counter and trade friendly barbs as Luke moved among customers. One evening, in between a takeout order for Bootsie and hounding Kirk to make up his mind, Luke had made some joke and she'd laughed. He couldn't even remember what he'd said, but it was the first genuine, non-forced laugh they'd shared since that night. He'd laughed even harder for the relief of it all. It almost felt normal. For the briefest of moments.

The next night he was cleaning, finishing up, when the bell over the door rang. He turned and smiled almost instinctively. There was no reason to expect her, given the way things were between them, but he was still tuned to her typical patterns, including periodic late-night visits. He could already see her smiling back warmly even before she was all the way through the door.

She stepped inside and gave a quick glance around the diner. He saw the smile fade, her expression freezing into a look of unease, as though she had briefly forgotten that things were now different between them. She recovered quickly, squaring her shoulders and moving toward the counter, as if again trying to prove nothing had changed.

"You weren't about to dump that out?" she asked in mock astonishment, pointing at the coffeepot he held in his hand.

"It's old. This stuff'll kill you."

"Oh, that's what you always say, but look at me, still living and breathing," she teased.

He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, well this actually might. And it's cold too."

"It's got caffeine, right? That's really all it takes."

"How about I make you some fresh?" he offered.

She nodded, clearly touched by the gesture. "That'd be great, Luke."

He held her gaze. "Anytime."

They'd had moments like this before, in which they looked at each other a beat or two longer than necessary, in which they acknowledged that what existed between them was more than business owner and patron, even more than simply friendship.

And they'd have moments like this again, he suspected. But it was the first of these moments since that night, which made it important somehow.

He was unsurprised when she broke the silence, glancing down at the counter briefly. "I'm so glad for this. It's been such a long day." She gave an exaggerated sigh, letting her head fall onto her folded arms for a moment before she looked back up at him.

"Yeah? What happened?" The role felt familiar; she was often the confider, the one who needed to vent about her day. At the same time though, it was as if she needed him to prompt her, to let her know he was willing to listen.

He earned a weary smile for carrying out his part of the dance, and she continued, "Sookie had this whole menu planned out: barbequed pork, coleslaw, baked beans." She paused and added, by way of explanation, "She learned somewhere how to smoke meat on the grill. Anyway, it was going to be this whole southern theme. But then Jackson brought kale."

"Kale?" He never knew where her stories were going.

"Yeah, he said the collards weren't quite ready to be picked, but that the kale was fresh. Sookie went into one of her menu freak-outs and decided we needed to change the whole theme to Portuguese."

"Portuguese?"

"Of course, because now everything had to revolve around the Portuguese Kale Soup she needed to make. So, she decided to make a chicken dish, and some other stuff," Lorelai waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "All I know is that I had to track down chorizo sausage, change the decorations from little cowboy hats to Portuguese flags, and figure out how to save the barbequed pork before she tossed it."

"Tossed it? She really would have thrown it out?" he asked, astonished.

"Well, I usually can rescue stuff before it gets that far."

"Then what?"

"Let's just say that the cooking staff that works on her off days has learned to be very creative with what they're given to work with," she said with the air of someone used to dealing with the eccentricities of those she worked with.

He'd always been amazed at the initiative and resourcefulness she exhibited in her life and at the inn. What continued to surprise him was how she took all of that for granted, and brushed off praise matter-of-factly. He couldn't think how to respond so he cut her a piece of pie and slid it across the counter.

She looked up, wide-eyed. "What's this for?"

"You like pie," he said simply.

She nodded. "I do like pie, but you're not usually so forthcoming with the artery-clogging, heart-attack inducing-"

"Lorelai, just eat the pie," he cut in, just this side of gruff. She raised her eyebrows slightly, and he added softly, "You just looked like you could use some pie."

She favored him with a long, thoughtful look, took a bite, and then nodded again. "You were right. Thank you, Luke."

The serious tone in her voice warmed him, and he realized that he'd forgotten that they were supposed to be uncomfortable with each other, still in the awkward aftermath of their date. "You know, Mia's lucky to have you running the place, keeping Sookie from running the business into the ground."

"It's not like that," she protested, then gestured toward him. "You know what it's like running a restaurant. Don't you ever have leftovers, or try something new that doesn't work out…or make mistakes?"

Luke answered as if ticking off the list in his head. "Leftovers go to the food pantry… when's the last time I made something new?" He paused to let Lorelai get in a little chuckle. "And generally Kirk eats any mistakes."

"Ah, so you've got it all figured out then?"

"It's just not so complicated around here, but that's why Sookie is a chef at an inn and I run a diner."

"Well, I think that running a diner is pretty impressive too." She grinned. "Especially since people still think it's a hardware store."

He pretended to be annoyed at her crack, but he could feel himself flushing a little. "No one is confused. It looks like a diner and smells like a diner. A diner with the same menu every day. Not at all like cooking different fancy meals every day."

"Oy with the comparing. You're a great cook. Sookie's a great cook." He shrugged and she confessed, "But it is exhausting keeping up with her sometimes." Her expression brightened into one of amusement. "Though I have to say, it might all be worth it just to see her arguing with Jackson."

Luke chuckled, having witnessed himself one or two vegetable arguments between Sookie and Jackson.

"The way those two go at each other, I'm thinking there's something more than just a cook/vegetable guy vibe. Makes me think he should just go ahead and kiss her or ask her out already…" Lorelai's eyes widened and her voice trailed off as she realized what she'd said.

It was as though someone had flicked a switch and in the briefest instant of time had dispelled the soft light of comfort with a harsh brightness and exposed the horrible awkwardness that had settled over them ever since their ill-fated date. He could see Lorelai opening her mouth to speak, probably about to fill the empty air with the kinds of meaningless nervous rambles he'd heard more often than not recently.

He didn't think that he could bear it, so he muttered, "I used the last filter. I'm going to go get some more before I forget."

The words were enough to still her, and he watched her try to compose herself as he turned toward the stockroom.

He returned to find her plate pushed away, the pie unfinished. She sat leaning on her elbows, her chin on her folded hands, facing away from him as she gazed out the window. If not for her drooping shoulders and defeated air, he'd think she were just resting, or thoughtful.

He walked around the outside of the counter, coming up beside her, saying, "Hey. You okay?" As he finished his question, he reached his hand to her shoulder. Halfway there, he thought to wonder how she'd react, but he rested his hand on her shoulder anyway.

He almost expected her to flinch, or shrug him off, but she surprised him by relaxing, almost leaning into his touch, as she turned slowly toward him.

She didn't answer, but eyed his hand still resting on her shoulder curiously, almost wary.

He slid his hand down her arm, and held her elbow gently. He saw her uncertainty. She looked as though she were about to say something, but Luke didn't want her to fill the air with empty words. With gentle pressure on her elbow, he leaned down, watching her expression change to what he hoped was surprise, rather than fear. He pressed his lips to hers softly, letting them linger there only briefly before pulling away ever so slightly.

Her eyes were closed and she hadn't shrunk away, so he raised his other hand to slip underneath her hair, sliding down until his fingers landed at the point where her neck met her shoulder. He closed the distance for another kiss, this time feeling her yield to him.

He trailed his thumb down her throat, and she whimpered in response, parting her lips in invitation. He couldn't help but smile as he mumbled against her mouth, "Maybe there's something there, after all."

Lorelai pulled away a bit, ducking her head in what he assumed was embarrassment or shyness.

When she didn't look up, he pulled a stool up behind him and sat down slowly. Reaching out, he tapped the back of his hand on her knee. "Lorelai?"

She lifted her head, tucking a few loose curls behind her ear. Her expression was anguished. "Oh Luke, why'd you have to go and do that? We were…were…"

"Pretending?" he said dully.

She just shook her head back and forth a few times, "Luke, don't..."

"Don't what?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he looked down at his feet and said quietly, evenly, "I don't want to pretend anymore."

"But we can't do this," she whispered.

He looked at her, willing her to lift her head. "Why?"

"It will ruin everything."

"How do you know?" he asked, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

She gave a defeated sigh. "It just will."

He shook his head as she slid off the stool and walked away. Just before she reached the door, he said softly, "You never know if you don't try." She paused for a moment, without looking back, before pulling the door open and slipping outside.

He wasn't sure if she was upset with him for rocking the boat, or at herself for liking it.

Next: Luke gets fed up