Just Duck-y (or, A Devil of a Time)

Thanks so much for the reviews so far! And to llano again for the beta.

Chapter 2: First Period

Two days later, after some whirlwind planning and packing on both their parts, as well as some awkward explaining to Rory, Richard, and Emily that yes, she would have to miss Friday dinner to take a weekend trip to California to see a hockey game with Luke – not exactly a conversation any of them had ever thought they'd be having, Luke and Lorelai stumbled tiredly into the hotel room they were sharing in Anaheim.

After which Lorelai immediately dropped her bags in front of Luke in the small foyer , took two and a half steps to the right and promptly collapsed, face-down, on the nearest bed. "Finally…" she sighed, mid-flop, "Mmph. Cincinnati sucks. Cincinnati must die. Evil plane not working for 4 evil hours in evil Cincinnati. Why the hell were we even in Cincinnati?" she wailed into the comforter. "Why couldn't we get delayed somewhere like Paris or Toyko?"

"Because there's nothing remotely resembling either of those places in the 3000 mile space between Hartford and California. And actually, we weren't even in Ohio," Luke pointed out, climbing over Lorelai's abandoned luggage, "It was technically Northern Kentucky."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Lorelai moaned as she rolled over onto her back. "I was never planning on spending that long in Kentucky ever. Isn't that where the Beverly-Hillbilly-who-marry-their-cousins-types come from?"

Luke sat himself down on the other bed and flipped on the TV as he addressed Lorelai's usual lack of political correctness, "I'm pretty sure there are normal people in the state."

"I guess," she replied, craning her neck to see the TV. "They do make good chicken."

With a grimace at both the lack of respectable programming and the mention of fried chicken, Luke turned off the TV. "That stuff's disgusting."

"Really good, yummy, greasy chicken," Lorelai grinned wickedly in Luke's direction, goading him. Grasping her stomach, she flopped back on the bed with a dramatic moan, "Ooh, now I want KFC, we didn't have dinner."

Luke stopped his task of untying his boots and looked up at Lorelai, incredulous, "Do you know how much junk you've eaten today?"

"That was just…" Lorelai paused thoughtfully, searching for a fitting word. "Grazing," she finished triumphantly, "Airport calories don't count."

"Only in your world," Luke muttered in reply.

Lorelai grinned, rolling on to her stomach once more, "Yeah, and?"

"Never mind," Luke brushed her off as he stood and crossed the room to the small desk at the foot of his bed. "There's gotta be a room service menu somewhere," he reasoned over his shoulder in Lorelai's direction as he rifled through the various papers in the top drawer. "That's probably all you're gonna get this late."

There was a big show of waving one arm weakly in Luke's direction, as if to will the menu to her with the mere movement of her fingers. But Lorelai's arm quickly flopped back down as she groaned into the bed, "Mmph, too much effort."

Luke's face broke into an amused smile as he eyed her over his shoulder. "Tired beats hungry?" he teased. "I should wear you out before letting you order at the diner. It'd be easier on your arteries."

Lorelai didn't respond immediately, exhaustion slowing her brain down a little. But a few moments later, muffled giggles could be heard from where her face was buried in the comforter.

Luke waited it out for a minute before demanding curiously, "What?"

"Dirty!" Lorelai snorted.

Looking baffled, Luke asked for clarification, "How?"

"Wear me out…" came Lorelai's giggled response before she lifted her head to waggle her eyebrows impishly. "Dirty."

"Jeez…" Luke groaned. Noting Lorelai's breathing growing deeper and her lack of further movement, he ventured, "You just staying like that? Ever gonna move?"

Lorelai's only response was a sleepy, "Mm-hmm…"

A few hours later, Lorelai blinked sleepily in the darkness. In her bleary daze, the fact that she was in California sharing a hotel room with Luke failed to register in her mind; the only thing she knew what that she had fallen asleep in her jeans and blazer. And that the jeans were just horribly uncomfortable to sleep in, and she really didn't want to wrinkle her cute jacket any more than she probably already had. Closing her eyes and fighting wakefulness, she expertly wriggled out of her jeans. With the jacket off, she finagled her way out of her bra as well, and tossed the whole lot in the direction of what her sleepy brain thought was her closet. Clad only in her underwear and a tank top, she pulled the covers over her and drifted back to sleep.

Another couple of hours later, and Lorelai woke again, this time needing to make a quick excursion to the bathroom. Without a second thought, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and wearily pulled herself to her feet.

Of course, she didn't get all the way up, for not a half-second into the maneuver did her head make forceful contact with the wall. The wall that quickly reminded her that she most definitely was not at home in her own bedroom.

The resounding thud and the soft whimper of pain she let out as she crumpled to the floor were just loud enough to rouse Luke from his slumber across the room.

Peering into the darkness, he couldn't make out Lorelai's form or the source of the noise, so he quickly reached over and turned on one of the bedside lamps. "Lorelai?" he whispered, squinting at what appeared to be only the top of Lorelai's head visible above her bed.

"There's no wall there at home!" Lorelai wailed, clutching her head in pain.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position, Luke reassessed the situation now that he could see a little better. Putting two and two together with Lorelai's wall remark, he asked, concerned, "Are you ok?"

Lorelai sent a withering glare in his direction over the edge of the bed, snapping, "Just ducky. Peachy. Swell."

"You hit the wall?" Luke asked, obviously not quite believing that she was quite that klutzy.

"Sure, gloat about it," Lorelai groused, still on her knees, barely fitting in the small space between the wall and the bed. "At home there's a nice big space and a door and a hall and stairs on that side of the bed," she offered in a weak attempt to save face as she gingerly reached up to the top of her head. She winced, "And ow…" Stupid wall…

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke breathed hurriedly as he deftly maneuvered over to Lorelai. Once in front of her, he offered a hand to help her up off the floor. With a gentle, "Come 'ere," he led her into the bathroom.

Lorelai followed obediently, but not before shooting a glare at the wall, grumbling, "Bad wall."

With the light flipped on, Luke eyed her head with scrutiny, gently demanding, "Where?"

Squinting in the harsh light of the bathroom and running her hand over the crown of her head, Lorelai almost missed Luke's reaction when he realized what she was wearing as sleepwear. Or wasn't wearing, rather. In trying to assess her injury, he'd maneuvered her towards the counter until she had no choice but to back up on to it. In what she suspected was merely practical concern in his search for blood, he'd ended up between her legs. Only when his hand involuntarily fell to her bare thigh, in a location that would have been considered scandalously high were it not for the Florence-Nightingale-inspired routine he as in the middle of. Nevertheless, once it registered what and where he was touching, Luke had yanked his hand back as if he'd been seared by the contact.

Lorelai stifled a giggle – Luke-torture was always fun – as she pointed out the spot on her head that had had the unfortunate contact with the wall, "Here."

In the bumbling awkwardness that followed the inadvertent thigh-touching, Luke was a little rougher than Lorelai's head would have preferred as he rand a thumb over her head. Sucking a rush of air between her clenched teeth, she hissed in pain as she jerked her head away from him, "Hey…"

As he pulled his hand back yet again, Luke muttered, "Yeah, that's a good bump already…" And regarding her, still sitting there in barely more than underwear, quickly exited the small room with a promise of "I'll get ice."

"You don't ha…" Lorelai began to protest, feeling silly for making him go for ice in the middle of the night, never mind the embarrassment that was beginning to set in for having run into the wall in the first place.

But Luke was already halfway out the door with the plastic ice machine bucket from the room, brushing her off, saying "You need ice."

Lorelai sighed, sliding off the counter. Stupid wall. She leaned over the sink toward the mirror, trying to examine the bump on her head. At least it was far enough back into her hair that the bruise wouldn't require too much coverup the next day… Thank God for small favors. Her head still hurt though, she scowled at her reflection. Stupid…

Luke reappeared a few moments later, and presented her with a container of ice and the few plastic bags that had accompanied the container.

"Thanks," Lorelai mumbled sheepishly, the ridiculousness of her situation suddenly overwhelming.

Luke just nodded, his eyes staying fixed on Lorelai's face as he gestured back towards the main room, "I'm gonna…."

"'K," Lorelai agreed, not wanting to keep Luke up any longer unless absolutely necessary.

Only a few steps beyond the bathroom, Luke turned around and stuck his head back in around the doorframe with a smirk, "You can negotiate the wall on your own from now on?"

Not particularly appreciating his attempt at cutesy, Lorelai stuck her tongue out. "I'll manage," she retorted. Except, she quickly realized, she probably wouldn't manage so well. Given her recent track record and her all-around lack of coherence in the moments post-wake-up, odds were she'd just end up smacking her head, or some other body part into the wall again. "Wait, Luke!" she called, clutching the ice as she dashed out of the bathroom after him. There was no way in hell she was getting back into the bed closest the wall…

She caught him just as he was climbing back into bed. "Actually," she began, "I think I'd probably manage a lot better if I was in that bed. Luke froze at her words, eyeing her with a curious gaze, with a touch of panic. "Switch, I mean," Lorelai clarified, flashing her best 'I'm Lorelai and therefore you must give in to whatever I'm demanding' smile. "I think the wall would be less likely to go for a repeat performance if I'm in the bed that's at least 3 feet from it on all sides."

"Fine," Luke sighed, regarding her with exasperation. "Whatever."

"Thank you!" Luke was barely back on his feet before Lorelai plopped herself on to the bed, quickly situating herself amidst all the blankets. Once she was comfortable, she rested the ice on her head. The bag promptly slid off onto the pillow. She put it back. It slid off again. And again… Not in the mood to deal with insolent ice, Lorelai eventually just laid back and stuck the stupid bag anywhere it would stay.

Luke, of course, watching her in mild amusement from across the room, took it upon himself to remark, "You do realize that ice isn't even close to where it should be."

"I can't help it," Lorelai groused from beneath the ice, "I'd have to be a contortionist, or just have an abnormally flat spot on my head, to get it to stay there. It's close enough. Maybe it'll just freeze my entire head, and then the bruised part will be cold too."

Rolling his eyes as he sat on the edge of his bed, Luke pointed out the obvious, "You could just hold it there."

"But then my arm will fall asleep," Lorelai whined.

"Jeez," Luke groaned. Most likely in the interest of shutting her up, he pulled himself to his feet, roughly grabbed the ice from her hand and held it awkwardly in place as he leaned over her, "Here."

Lorelai peered up at him warily. "Ok, well now I'm afraid that you're gonna fall asleep standing up," she quipped, "Tip over like some big giant Luke-tree that's getting cut down, land on me, and kill me in my sleep. Wait, that is your plan," she gasped melodramatically. "A-ha! I've figured you out, not gonna work on me," she declared resolutely, squirming her way out from under Luke's looming frame.

Luke's free hand on her arm subdued her movements, and she stilled under his touch. "Would you just stop moving?" Luke implored. He nudged her a bit farther toward the middle of the bed and sat down behind her. With his arm resting just beyond her head on the pillow, he held the ice in place while leaning back against the headboard. "Better?" he inquired sardonically.

Actually rather comfortable curled up on her side with Luke behind her, Lorelai smiled contentedly, "Much."

The next thing Lorelai was aware of was the sticky feeling of warm plastic under her cheek. The dim light that filtered through the room from the lamp on the nightstand was enough for her to make out the bag of ice, now significantly less ice-y, which had somehow made its way under her head from on top of it. Concerned with little more than getting back to sleep, she plucked the bag from her pillow and tossed it across the room.

And with Luke snoring softly behind her, his arm still wrapped protectively around the vicinity of her head, she drifted back to sleep.

To be continued…