Chapter 3: All Alone in the Night

It was dark when Luke woke, and the first thing he realized was that his body clock was well and truly screwed. It took him a moment to orient himself, not used to hearing noises outside. Stars Hollow was so quiet, with any hint of nighttime noise leading to utter outrage from Taylor Doose. The most noise he'd heard in years had been Lorelai pelting his window with pebbles, seeking sanctuary after the fire at the Independence Inn, and she had given up her home to displaced guests.

Then it fully came back to him. He wasn't in Seattle. He wasn't on a cruise ship. He was in Paris, because his chivalry had suddenly kicked into overdrive.

He sat up and tried to see what time it was before finally looking at his watch. It was still set to Eastern Daylight Time, and it took him a moment to guess it was somewhere around midnight. He'd been asleep, what 14 hours? That explained the second thing he realized upon waking, and that was to find a bathroom.

That took him into a hallway, and reluctantly he kept the door of the room ajar since he didn't have a key. Thankfully, there were signs in English, and it prevented him from making a huge mistake such as wandering into the women's side of the restroom. It didn't prevent the wince when he realized it was a gym-style setup with open showers and relatively little privacy. Luke took his time going back to the room, checking out the different parts of the hostel. There were group dorms, a communal kitchen, and a living room. A TV blaring something in French came from that area. Feeling uncomfortable as is, he quickly slipped back into Lorelai and Rory's room and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

The girls were curled up together on Rory's bed, Lorelai's arm slung protectively around her daughter's waist. Guilt gnawed at him because Lorelai had given up her bed for him, and she didn't have to do that. He frowned and tried to work out the logistics of building a nest on the floor for himself and moving one of the girls to the other bed. But they were entangled in such a way that lifting Rory or Lorelai would wake them for sure. He wondered if this is how they slept when they lived in the potting shed behind the Independence Inn, with Lorelai protecting tiny Rory.

Something warm settled in the pit of his stomach, and he realized with surprise that it was happiness. For the first time since he couldn't remember when, he felt honest-to-god contentment. Here he was, who knows how many thousands of miles away from home, watching Lorelai and Rory sleep, and he was just happy. This was what he had done when he changed his flight, upended his entire freaking life. Luke hadn't let himself think about the implications of what he had done on the plane, in customs, or as he wandered through Paris clinging to a map, Rory's itinerary, and a hot pink purse like a security blanket. But now those ramifications were pushing at the front of his brain with the force of a migraine.

At a loss, Luke rubbed the back of his neck and slipped back out of the room. His stomach growled and he tried to remember the last time he'd eaten. God, it had been what, at least 36 hours ago? It had be before he left Stars Hollow. He hadn't eaten at the restaurant in Newark with Nicole, and his stomach refused to let him even consider the in-flight meal on the trans-Atlantic leg of the trip. Then when he'd been wandering lost through Paris, things as mundane as eating didn't seem important.

But here he was in the middle of Paris, his stomach threatening to turn itself inside out, and he wasn't even sure if the concept of a 24-hour restaurant existed in country to begin with. Then there was actually ordering the food and he doubted the Spanish he'd taken in high school would serve him here. Not that he could actually remember any of it. Lorelai and Rory had essentially sneaked him into their hostel, and he didn't feel right about taking any of the food from it. The girls probably had a candy stash hidden in their backpacks, but he wasn't that desperate.

Luke noticed that a door across from the girls' room led to a small porch dotted with several of those dainty wrought-iron tables that seemed to be a Parisian cliché. He scowled, not comfortable with Lorelai and Rory being so close to an entrance that anyone could freely access. This time, he pulled the door behind him firmly, letting the lock click into place, and pushed through the opposite door leading onto the porch.

Smoking area, he realized quickly, wrinkling his nose. But there was fresh air here, and that felt pretty nice. Not wanting to subject himself to one of the iron chairs or the slight smokers haze, he looked for another place to sit and spotted stairs. Curious, he climbed them until he found himself on the roof.

Paris spread before him in a brilliant tableau, lights twinkling everywhere as they angled toward the Eiffel Tower. There were more tables up here and a small bar, probably for hosting small parties. Hell, that's what he would do with a view like this. It struck him at that moment just how very far he'd come from home, without a plan, without fully realizing what he was doing. A normal, sane person would have just wired the money. No he had to fly across the ocean and crash a long-planned mother-daughter trip because something in his gut wouldn't let him live with himself until he saw that she was OK in person. He very nearly buried his head in his hands.

Instead, Luke wandered to the chest-high wall separating one rooftop from the next. He leaned on it, resting his weight on his arms as he stared at the Eiffel Tower. Lorelai was fine. Tired, and he remembered seeing the circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the stress in her face, but otherwise she was fine. There was no room for him here. Just the fact that he was in Paris, staring at a structure he'd only seen in books and on TV drove home that surreal fact. Granted, going on a cruise was also completely out of left field for him.

But while it had taken weeks of waffling before he got as far as he did on the cruise trip, it'd taken seconds for him to change his mind and talk his way onto that Paris flight. The thing that baffled him even further was that Nicole hadn't been surprised.

He'd walked back to the gate, where Nicole had been pacing in front of the small customer service counter. Before she could lay into him about how they nearly missed his flight, he informed her that he wasn't going.

"What do you mean you're not going?"

"Look, Nicole, there's been an emergency. I've got to deal with it."

"Did something happen to the diner?"

"No."

"Is it your sister? Your nephew?"

"They're fine."

Nicole studied him, staring for so long that he shifted uncomfortably. "Is it Lorelai?" she asked softly.

Luke looked away from her, not quite meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry."

She laughed, short and bitter. "You know what? It doesn't surprise me that you're walking away from me for her. I'm just surprised it took you this long to do so." Without another word, she shouldered her carry-on, swiped her ticket, and headed for the plane without him.

"Hey." Luke felt her hand on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. He winced a bit, realizing she'd woken up for some reason and had gone looking for him. He wasn't used to leaving notes explaining his whereabouts.

Lorelai smiled up at him in that way that made him feel both at peace and unsettled at the same time, but in a good way. She was dressed in pajamas, a long sweater belted over it. He could see the slight glitter from the flip-flops she wore and knew they had to match the purse he bought her. Pink and glitter and bright. That was Lorelai Gilmore. "Euro for your thoughts?"

"It's a penny."

"Well, considering the exchange rate and the look on your face, I figured I'd go for broke."

"I was just thinking about Nicole," Luke said, and her voice sounded just a bit odd.

"Are you two broken up?" she asked, her voice infused with false cheer.

"Yeah. It was pretty clear. I walked away from the trip, so I walked away from the relationship. Sometimes, I wonder if we even had one to begin with." Luke glanced down at her as he said that. Lorelai didn't say anything for a moment, and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch. He suddenly remembered the day he found out that she had left Max Medina. Maybe, just maybe … He didn't stop smiling for a full day.

But Lorelai had a better poker face than he did and managed to her expression respectably sober. "You had enough of one to consider abandoning your mountain man ways. Though I figured you'd spring for the bigger bed before the whole cruise thing. I still can't figure out how you manage to sleep in it. I think a pack of clowns could jam into a tiny car better than you can fit into that single bed."

"You're the one who told me to go," he pointed out.

Lorelai stiffened, pulling away from him ever so slightly. "Don't you even try to pin this on me," she said in a cool voice that made her sound more like her mother than she would ever care to admit. "I just got finished telling Rory that she has to be accountable for her own actions, and the same thing goes for you. I didn't force you to come here. You came on your own. I know you. You have the self control of a celibate monk. You actually eat your vegetables! You didn't do anything that you didn't want to do."

He started to snark back at her, but what was the point? "You're right."

"Of course, I'm right." Lorelai flashed a smile at him again, and he couldn't help it. He smiled back, which made hers even wider. "Are you sad that you two broke up?"

Luke ran a hand through his hair and rocked back on his heels. "I think I'm just … relieved. You know? It wasn't working out. It was never gonna work out. I knew it even before you called me. Do you really see me on a multi-country cruise doing yoga?"

"I get it. I felt that way with Max. I kept wanting it to work, hoping it would work."

"When did you know it wouldn't work?"

When Lorelai didn't say anything, when she kept staring at the Eiffel Tower in an unusual silence that made him briefly fret about her health, Luke started to wonder. Something bubbled up in his gut that almost felt like hope as he thought back to a year earlier, to the discussion they'd had when he gifted her with the chuppah before her aborted wedding.

Maybe this trip wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"This is why we chose this one," Lorelai explained, gesturing to the view and completely changing the subject. "The waitlist for this place is insane, and we literally planned our entire trip around it. We came up and took in the view last night, me and Rory. I know we could had gone for one of the hotels my parents usually stay in but this is Paris."

She suddenly turned and pressed a small wrapped bundle into his hands. "I forgot! I bring you food, weary traveler! And I tell you, that is the most amount of vegetables I've ever held in my hands at once, so you better appreciate my generosity."

"Thanks, I'm starving." Not wanting to sit at one of those doll-sized tables, Luke rested the bundle on the ledge and opened it to reveal some sort of veggie wrap, a croissant, an apple, and a bottle of water.

"Rory figured that wouldn't spoil since we weren't sure when you waking up. So we found a deli for the wrap and saved one of the croissants from this morning. I'm not sure where Rory found the apple. I think the grocer's stock boy down the street's half in love with her."

"Seems to be a thing with her."

Lorelai laughed and slapped his arm. "Ha! That's what I said!"

Part of him wanted to stuff everything in his mouth like he was a teenager again. The adult in him reached for the croissant and tore a piece from it. "You like these better or Sookie's?"

"Sookie's," Lorelai stated quite firmly, with the steadfast loyalty that had drawn him toward her after the quicksilver smiles and the verbal taunts that both infuriated and inflamed him. "She, however, would sit here and moan about how much hers were lacking, then push her way into the café's kitchen to learn how they'd do it. Then we'd even have better croissants."

Luke ate and she watched, and he wondered how much of her self control she was using up in not snatching the rest of the croissant for herself. He tore the rest of the croissant in half and handed it over. With a pleased smile, she tore a little piece off and popped it in her mouth. When he did it, it was fuel trying to sustain his overtaxed body. When she did it, it was a sensual experience from the way she closed her eyes, to the small pleased groan she gave at the taste of the pastry, to the slight licking of her lips before eating another bite.

She was going to cause him to have a stroke.

Then she boosted herself onto the ledge and helped herself to a swig from his water bottle.

Forget the stroke. She was going to give him a heart attack. "Hey, be careful!"

"I'm not going to fall," Lorelai said gaily, kicking her feet absently. "Besides, you'll catch me, won't you?"

"After scaring 20 years off my life, sure." Luke forced himself to focus on the veggie wrap and not on the inherent dangers of sitting on a rooftop ledge.

Lorelai tore off another piece of croissant. "This is the farthest you've ever been away from home, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." The furthest he'd been away from Stars Hollow before this insane trip was family camping trips to Maine before his father died. He only had his passport because the cruise ship passed through international waters. "Same for you?"

"Yeah, it is. My parents take these trips all the time, but I wasn't interested when I was a teen. Every day they were in Europe was another day of freedom for me. Chris and I had plans to do it ourselves, but then I had Rory, and going to Europe was no longer an option. We finally began joking around and here we are with our giant itinerary and our amazing Parisian view from a hostel and our croissants. I wanted to be here on my own terms, and it's the best thing ever."

"Kinda like giving the middle finger to your upbringing."

"Exactly!" Pleased, Lorelai popped the last bite of the croissant in her mouth. She watched him with an unusually pensive expression, and Luke could see all the questions just lingering on the tip of the tongue, waiting for them to spill out. Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore. He stared at the half-eaten wrap and slowly placed it back on the napkin next to the apple.

"You miss home, don't you?" Lorelai asked.

"I missed it the moment the plane took off from Hartford," he admitted. "I also miss my stomach, which I musta left somewhere on the ground back in Connecticut."

"Like Wile E. Coyote, it'll catch up eventually. Or fall off a cliff. Or both. Just take my advice, don't eat the escargot."

Luke chuckled and slowly wrapped the food back in the napkin, leaving the water bottle out. He drummed his fingers on the ledge and decided to do the mature thing. "Look, Lorelai-"

Her legs stopped swaying, and he could sense the fight brewing before the first retort came out of her mouth. "No. No, just stop it."

He scowled. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Yes, I do!" Lorelai hopped off the wall and poked him in the stomach. "Hello, I have known you for seven years, pal. You're going to profusely apologize for barging in on me and Rory, on our mother-daughter trip, then kick yourself for doing it in the first place before skulking off on the first flight you can find back to the U.S. Am I somewhere in the ballpark?"

Luke refused to look her in the eyes.

She grabbed his arm before he could turn away, not letting go until he acknowledged her. "Do you know what this means to me?"

He gestured with his free arm. "It means you should be pissed I just barged in like this. I'm no better than your parents."

Lorelai stepped into him, standing so close he could smell the soap she used in the shower earlier in the day. It was a different scent from the one she normally used and it seemed slightly off, not quite Lorelai Gilmore. "You are the farthest thing from Emily and Richard Gilmore on this planet. In this galaxy. In this universe! They would walk in here, take over this trip completely, force me and Rory to go to their glitzy hotels and never leave our side ever. They would come because they want to control me. You came because you care for me, for Rory. Do you seriously think I don't see that?"

Luke yanked his away from her, stomping toward the cluster of tables before spinning around and throwing out his arms. "What do you want me to say? Something about you completely drives me to do things I would never consider doing. Like dropping $100K on a vacant building or go on a cruise or flying to Paris because I picked up the phone and you were crying."

He was prepared for her to yell at him. His throat burned to yell back, because at least it would be an outlet for the pain that was settling in the middle of his chest. But instead, she hugged herself and those blue eyes, shit, those blue eyes filled with tears.

Oh damn. Damn it all to hell.

"Oh God, no, no, I didn't mean to make you cry." Luke started toward her, but she stepped away, circling him as he tried to get her to stand still for just a moment.

"Do you know this was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," Lorelai managed.

"Says the person who had a guy once fill the Independence Inn with a thousand daisies for her."

"But he wouldn't fly across the world for me because I'm stranded," she retorted. "Do you realize how many romantic movie cliches you just lived up to?"

The anger drained from Luke, replaced by something akin to panic. He kneaded his temples. "Aw, geez."

"It's When Harry Met Sally or Sleepless in Seattle or Sabrina or Kate and Leopold. Where one of them realizes they love the other one and go racing across the city or world or time to stop them from being with the wrong person or just from walking away. I'm leaning more toward When Harry Met Sally, but-" She cut herself off.

Luke closed his eyes, silently counted to ten. Ignoring his frantic heart, he mentally created a list of things he needed to do. This was something he was good at. There was a problem, and if he followed the logical sequence, he could fix it. Really, solving this mess would only take a few steps. "Look, we're going to the bank tomorrow, we'll get you whatever money you need until your cards arrive. Then I'm going home so we can both deal with the fact that I just made a fool of myself."

"No, you're not," Lorelai shot back.

He winged an eyebrow. "How're you going to stop me?"

Her chin lifted. "When's your return flight?"

OK, that had been out of the blue. "What?"

"What's the date on your return ticket?"

Because he honestly had no clue, hadn't even paid attention when he purchased the flight to begin with, Luke yanked out his wallet and pulled out the battered itinerary from the airline. "Look, it's …" his voice died away when he looked at the words printed on the crumpled paper.

"Did you book a one-way ticket or something?" Lorelai reached over and nimbly plucked it out of his fingers, then gaped at it. "You really did! You bought a one-way ticket from Newark to Charles de Gaulle Airport. Wow." She gave him an admiring look. "$400 off too? How did you get so lucky? How did they even let you in the country? You know how customs are these days."

"I don't know, I don't remember." Luke grabbed the water bottle from the ledge, took a deep swig, and tried to remember customs. Then he groaned, remembering his exhausted babbling to the customs agent that sounded perilously close to being something Lorelai would do. He really had been around her too much.

"What?"

"Rory's itinerary," he said simply, unwilling to explain what exactly he had told the customs agent. "I sort of waved it around and talked about the diner, and they seemed to be satisfied with that.

Lorelai nodded sagely. "That thing has saved our asses more than once."

They shared a small smile of pride.

"Rory and I have taken a vote, and we've decided to keep you on the island."

He frowned, knowing it was some sort of pop culture reference he didn't get. "What does that even mean?"

"It means we want you to come with us. Look, I know it won't be for the entire time. You've got to go back and make sure we're kept in coffee, Burger Boy. But you can at least stay with us a few days, maybe even a week or two." Lorelai gave him a small smile. "Please?"

Luke wasn't sure what to say. He didn't think he could say anything. Whatever denial he'd been prepared to issue died unspoken, strangled by pure emotion. His entire life, he'd been the one to plea for someone to stay with him. Don't die, Mom. Dad, you can't leave me. Rachel, give life in Stars Hollow another chance. Don't take Jess to New York City, Liz. Every single person he loved had walked away, either by choice or a cruel twist of fate. Even Nicole hadn't truly wanted him on the cruise in the end, not even attempting to change his mind.

But Lorelai Gilmore wanted him to be with her, with Rory, not knowing how that request simply undid him. He stared at the stones paving the rooftop, hoping she couldn't see that he was struggling not to give into the emotion that swelled in his throat. He didn't know how to handle the fact that someone actually wanted him enough to stick around.

"Fine." His voice didn't sound like his own. Oddly, it sounded like when Rory made her graduation speech at Chilton just a couple weeks earlier. "I'll stay."

"Good!" Luke glanced up in time to see Lorelai's smile, and it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. It fit - her standing on a Parisian rooftop, the Eiffel Tower in the background as she beamed at him like he'd presented her with a giant ice cream sundae and a unlimited supply of coffee.

God, if he wasn't careful, this would turn into one of those crazy romantic movies she was addicted to.

"Let's get some sleep! I'm pretty sure Rory has rewritten half the itinerary by now, and we're going to need all the mental stamina we can get to match wits with her." Lorelai gave him a friendly punch in the arm and strode toward the stairs.

"Lorelai," Luke called after her, waiting until she turned back to give him her attention.

"What?" she asked.

"I don't have the self control of a celibate monk." He walked back to the ledge to finish his meal, suddenly ravenous. A corner of his mouth lifted as he heard her shocked gasp, knowing that a gauntlet had been tossed.

Editor's note: For what it's worth, Luke, yes there are 24-hour restaurants in Paris.