Sunday Mornings
Summary: Luke and Lorelai get into a spat.
A/N: Based on Lorelai's spatula memory from The Long Morrow. I'm sure there will be a number of excellent fics based on this little tidbit we didn't get to see on screen, but here's my attempt. Please review!
Disclaimer: I own nada.
Rating: K+
One of the things Lorelai loved most about living with Luke was that when she had no desire to change out of her night shirt and robe on Sunday mornings to go out in search of food, she had her very own short-order cook ready to make her anything she wanted for breakfast. And he looked so good doing it, showing off those gorgeous arms as he flipped and fried things on the stove.
She found his concentration so sexy as he masterfully turned raw food products into a meal. If only she could convince him to cook naked... But no, Luke was far too sensible for that and would probably just point out the risk of grease splatter burns.
Resolutely pushing aside her Luke-cooking-nude fantasies, Lorelai opened her laptop to check for emails from Rory. Alas, her in-box was empty, and breakfast was still a good ten minutes away.
"Have you ever googled yourself just to see what kind of stuff comes up?" Lorelai asked as she idly began to toy with her web browser.
"Since when did 'google' become a verb?" Luke mused, scraping at something in the skillet.
Ignoring his question, which was probably rhetorical anyway, she said excitedly, "Seriously, there's a ReMax agent in Hermosa Beach with my name. Where is Hermosa Beach?"
"Somewhere on the coast," he guessed.
"Oh look, I'm a lawyer in Cincinnati! I've always wanted to be a lawyer."
Luke suddenly looked appalled at her statement. "Really?" he demanded, incredulous.
"Nah, although the arguing would be fun. I guess I just always wanted to say, 'Objection, your honor!' like they do in the movies and Law and Order."
Looking over her shoulder at the search results on her computer screen, he stated, "Well, you'd have to give up your career as an inspirational speaker and self-help book writer."
"What about a star high school basketball player?" she suggested, pointing to another entry on the screen before scrolling further down.
"Wow, that ReMax agent really gets around," Luke said in surprise, noting the multiple entries.
"Hey, this one's me," Lorelai told him, clicking on one of the links. The contact list for the Dragonfly came up on the computer with her name printed neatly at the bottom. "That's pretty cool," she said with a grin.
"And kind of creepy. Anyone can find that."
"It's the website for the inn. It has our phone number and address and directions for how to get to us," she said. "I hope people can find it."
"But they don't need to know your name, do they?"
Lorelai smiled in amusement at how much that thought bothered him. "What's the big deal? I'm the owner – well, me and Sookie - but I run the place. It's not like my picture is on there with our home telephone number in big flashing red letters."
"Yeah, but still..." Noticing that he had neglected the stove, Luke quickly turned his attention back to making her breakfast. "You don't know what kind of crazy people on the internet might see that and decide to come track you down."
"Because my name is so alluring?" Lorelai asked sarcastically. "That would be like the Terminator picking my name out of the phone book. I don't think we have to worry."
Luke frowned. "I'm just sayin', I don't think it's safe."
"To have my name buried on the 'contact us' page of the Dragonfly website?"
"Yeah."
"What if people want to talk to me?"
"They can ask for you."
Lorelai stood up from the table and closed her laptop before folding her arms and leaning against the counter next to him. "How will they know who to ask for?"
"They can ask for the manager," Luke pointed out.
"They do that already."
"See? So you don't need your name on the website."
"What about you?" Lorelai said. "You have your name on your diner. Luke's Diner. Right there!"
"Just my first name. Besides, this is Star's Hollow. The only people we have to worry about here are Kirk and Taylor. The internet is full of all kinds of wackos."
"Luke, Kirk and Taylor are scarier than internet wackos. Besides, everyone has web pages, most with pictures and all kinds of other identifying information. I don't think my name on my business site is that big of a deal." The argument had been amusing at first, but his stubborn refusal to concede the point was beginning to annoy her.
"I just don't like it," he insisted. "I don't think it's safe for just anyone to look you up and find out where you work."
"They'd have to already know where I work, or else they'd get pretty confused with all the other Lorelai Gilmores running around," she said.
Turning off the burners on the stove, Luke transferred Lorelai's breakfast to a plate (chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and hash browns) and unceremoniously placed it on the table beside her.
"Fine, do whatever you want," he conceded tersely.
"Luke..." He moved to walk past her into the living room, but she reached out to stop him by snagging his shirt sleeve. "Eat breakfast with me?" she asked, flashing one of her patented flirtatious smiles.
"I'm not hungry."
"Then you can watch me eat."
"Lorelai," he said warningly.
"Luke," she playfully mimicked his tone.
"If we're going to keep fighting, I'd rather just go to the diner," he told her sternly.
Lorelai snorted. "This isn't a fight."
"Then what would you call it?"
"An argument? No, I wouldn't even go that far. A spat, maybe."
Luke rolled his eyes. "That's the same thing as a fight."
"No, it's not. Trust me. I'm a Gilmore, and that makes me an expert on every kind of verbal disagreement out there. A fight involves a lot more yelling and screaming and possibly even hurling of blunt objects," she said, making her tone as playful as possible. "A spat is a little quarrel that can end at any time."
Looking around, she spotted Luke's grease-covered spatula sitting on the counter and had an idea. Instead of picking it up, she reached into the nearby drawer and pulled out her own clean (and much under-used) cooking utensil.
"And, unlike a fight, a spat can easily be defused with the use of... a spatula!" she declared with an evil glint in her eyes.
Luke looked instantly wary, although the corners of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Lorelai..."
She gently reached out and used the spatula to whack him on the hip, then she quickly backed up as though expecting him to go after her. "See?" she said gleefully. "Spat!"
"Give me that," Luke said, her movements automatically enticing him to reach for the utensil.
But Lorelai avoided him, switching it from one hand to the other behind her back before smacking him again, this time a little harder and a little closer to her intended target (his nicely shaped and regrettably clothed behind).
"Lorelai!" he protested. Noting her happy grin at his displeasure, he suddenly felt the undeniable urge to beat her at this game she had started. He quickly shot out his hand to grab hers, the one holding the spatula, and pull her against him.
But before Luke could wrestle it from her grip, her free hand reached around to pinch him sharply on the butt. He jumped automatically, and she used the opportunity to twist out of his grasp and scurry to the other side of the table.
"You are going to pay for that," he warned her with a smirk. She could tell he had something evil in mind.
Lorelai held the spatula up as though to ward him off. "Don't you even think about it..."
She did not have time to finish her sentence before he had circled the table and made a grab for her waist. While he did not manage to catch her, he did get a hold of one end of the tie on her robe, which slid out in his hand. Lorelai just laughed at the near-miss, not minding that her robe now gaped open.
When he lunged at her once more, she took the opportunity to whack him again with the spatula. But instead of letting her get away, he looped the tie around her waist and used it to pull her back to him when she tried to move away.
"Hey, no fair," she declared as he drew her flush against his body. For good measure, she tried to smack him on the behind, but before she could do so, Luke twisted her around in his arms so that she was faced away from him.
Using one arm to hold her still, his other hand proceeded to tickle her ribs and under her arms. While Lorelai had never been particularly ticklish, Luke had enough experience with her body to know exactly how to dissolve her into a pile of writhing giggles.
"Stop it!" she shrieked amidst her involuntary laughter. Unable to fight back against the onslaught, Lorelai reached around her with the spatula to catch him on the behind again, but the angle made it hard for her to do anything but flail wildly. Her laughter was so infections that before long even Luke was chuckling at her predicament.
Finally, he stopped the tickling and she let the spatula fall to her side in defeat. He kept his arm around firmly her as he quickly confiscated the offending item.
"See?" she said, turning her head to smile brightly at him over her shoulder. "Not a fight."
Instead of replying, Luke kissed her gently, turning her around to face him as he did so. Without further thought or statement from either of them, the spatula fell to the floor, abandoned and forgotten. All thoughts of their earlier disagreement were gone. And neither cared that Lorelai's breakfast was left to cool on the table as they went in search of a more comfortable venue to continue their 'spat.'
"If you want me to, I'll have Michel change the website," Lorelai said quietly as they lay together, her head nestled against his shoulder. One thing she loved even more than Luke cooking her breakfast on Sunday mornings was Luke taking her back to bed and demonstrating his other talents.
"No, that's okay," he said after a moment. "I guess I was being silly about that."
"You really were," she agreed.
He sighed softly, the way he did sometimes when he was especially tired or weary. "It just scares me, is all. You hear these stories about people who fixate on someone on the internet... and I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you."
His fear closely paralleled a scenario they had seen on television a few weeks before. At the time, Luke had merely rolled his eyes at the melodramatic acting and exaggerated musical score. But it was clear that he had drawn a lesson from it.
Lorelai smiled at him, touched at the depth of emotion in his confession. "Nothing's going to happen to me," she told him. But wanting to lighten the mood, she added, "They would so go after that ReMax agent first. And you are not allowed to watch scary stalker Lifetime movies with me anymore!"
Luke chuckled good-naturedly. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."
"But we can still watch the cutesy romantic ones," she said.
"Great..." was his less than enthusiastic reply.
"In fact... that sounds like a good thing to do on a lazy Sunday like today," Lorelai declared with confidence as she rolled out of bed. "But first, why don't we make breakfast again?"
"I already made you breakfast," Luke protested weakly even as he followed her and began to gather up his clothes.
"Yes, but it's probably cold now. And besides, this is the perfect opportunity for you to practice your naked cooking skills," she told him mischievously, taking the pants and shirt from his arms and tossing them on a nearby chair.
He grimaced at the thought. "That's dangerous. Grease splatter, you know?"
"All the reason for you to practice," she said as she started to pull him towards the hallway.
"Can I at least wear pants?" he whined.
"Fine," she sighed with exaggeration, letting him pull on the appropriate garment. In turn, she put on the shirt he had been wearing earlier. "But you owe me at least two sappy Lifetime movies."
"You know, I'm never going to be able to use that spatula again," he told her as she followed him down the stairs. "Actually, I don't think I ever have used it. Always brought my own. I didn't even know you had one..."
"Yeah, that spatula never has gotten much use. It probably wouldn't know what to think if it was suddenly used to cook something," Lorelai said.
"What, you just use it to whack people?"
"Dirty!"
"Ah, jeez."