Disclaimer - I claim to own nothing related to this show, except some worn down, much loved DVDs. Well, Seasons 1-6 anyway. O.K. you got me; I don't love the Season 6 DVDs. They gather dust.

Notice: This story will not be pure fluff. I can't stand pure fluff; gimme some drama. That being said, I am a Java Junkie for life, so you never have to worry that they will part ways for good in my version. It may be a bumpy ride though. I'm trying to do this from a third-person limited view, as in we don't know what the characters are thinking, we just know what they say and do.

Rating should not get worse than PG-13. Trying to write smut makes me want to giggle uncontrollably like a 5th grader.

Lorelai stood just out of view of Luke's diner, dressed in somewhat shabby looking clothes with a bandanna tied around her hair. She was twirling one of her loose ringlets around her index finger, looking conflicted. Finally, she seemed to make a decision about something, and walked over to the diner, almost bouncing. Before she could get to the steps the door opened, and Lorelai broke out into a bright smile.

"Hey! Told you I'd be here," she said to the flannel-draped man.

"You didn't have to come if you really had a bad dinner," Luke said.

"What dinner?" she scoffed. "We didn't make it to dinner, let me tell ya," she scoffed as she entered the diner.

"Well I turned the grill off, but I'll turn it back on if you want me to make you something. Oh, hey, I got some pie left. Tell ya what; I'll even throw some ice cream on top, and I'll hold the lecture. I anticipated your need for coffee, and there's some ready." He got out a cup, and poured her a cup of coffee. She sat down at the only table that didn't have chairs on top of it.

"Coffee is fine for now. Not sure I could eat anyway."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "You? Turning down pie a la mode? This is serious." He sat down across her and waited for her to speak. When all she had done for a few minutes was drink her coffee and stare out the window, he said "So… wanna talk about it?"

"I think, no," she drained the cup. "Let's just get started painting."

"That bad, huh?" He returned her empty cup back to the kitchen.

She took a can of paint designated for the trim and meticulously dabbed it on the trim by the door. He poured some paint into a roller pan, and started to dip a roller in it. As he painted the ceiling, she finally began to talk.

"Christopher's parents. I almost can't believe them. They have one grandchild, and they can't even put their pride away for one evening to try and get to know her. And of course, I had to open my big mouth, so all hell breaks loose. My father almost hit someone. My father has probably only hit another man in college wearing boxing gloves and one of those Fred Mertz golden gloves pullover sweaters."

"I Love Lucy?"

"Nice catch. My father had a meltdown, first with Christopher's father, then with me! And then, I went out to the balcony of my old room – "

"You had a balcony in your room?"

"You wanted me to talk, let me tell my story?"

"My mistake, carry on."

"I went out there to be alone and cool off, but Christopher joined me and offered me Jose Cuervo! He also had the audacity to remind me that," she faltered. "Never mind that part…" she chuckled nervously.

At this statement, Luke visibly stiffened and didn't seem to notice that he was painting the same spot on the ceiling over and over.

"He kissed me. He told me he loved me, and that I was going to marry him and potentially have more children with him."

Luke inhaled sharply and his jaw was set in a hard line, he was still vigorously painting the same spot on the ceiling. "So," he said through clenched teeth, "you're with him now?"

Lorelai didn't notice the tone of Luke's voice, and continued to babble. "No, of course not. Have you met me? When have I ever appreciated being ordered around? I backed away from him, and when I told him I didn't want to be kissed by him, he tried it again!"

Swip, swip, swip, swip, swip, swip, the paint roller said.

"He kept going on and on about how I could count on him now, and we could be a family." She chuckled humorlessly. "I had enough of that. I told him there was too late; that I didn't feel anything when he kissed me." The paint roller slowed. "That the first thing I thought of was you." She gasped as she realized she let this last part slip, and dropped her paintbrush getting paint on her old sneakers.

The paint roller also dropped to the floor, leaving nice trail of paint on the floor tarp. The two friends were still facing away from each other.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" she asked, covering her face with her hands.

"Yep."

They both stayed in place for a while, thinking, and as if choreographed, they turned toward each other at the same time. They looked at each other for a while, and Luke said slowly, "You mean the first thing you thought of was that you promised to help me paint right?"

She shook her head. "I thought about when we were hiding from Taylor behind the counter. It seemed like we were going to kiss. At least, that's what it felt like to me. I wanted to."

Luke cleared his throat and glanced down at his shoes, but didn't say anything.

"O.K., I was wrong then, good thing I didn't kiss you that would've been weird huh?" She bent over to pick up the paintbrush, flushed with embarrassment.

"You weren't wrong," he said quietly. When she stared at the brush and didn't say anything else, he asked, "Why did you leave then?"

"You're my best friend besides Rory and Sookie, and I was scared – "

"You were scared of getting hurt O.K. That's fine we can pretend this conversation never happened. Just go back to painting." It was his turn to bend over and pick up his painting instrument.

"I was scared of hurting you, Luke. Every time it seems like something is about to happen between us, I get scared. The last thing I want to do is hurt one of my best friends. But – "

"Forget about it. I'll just serve the coffee, you just drink the coffee."

"I think we should conduct an experiment," Lorelai offered.

"Sorry, my lab coat is at the cleaners."

"I'm serious. We're always on the cusp of something. It would hurt to lose my friend, but not finding out if it could be more is a mistake."

"Lorelai…"

"Please. Just a kiss. I want to know what it would be like." She closed the distance between them.

"Lorelai…"

"All three syllables, thank you!"

"Huh? What – " Something about the way she looked up at him, stopped him mid-question. "What the hell," he substituted and leaned down to kiss her. They started six inches apart from each other, but it quickly escalated with both of them wrapping their arms around each other. Lorelai gasped and pulled away. Luke scrambled back six feet and said "Sorry. You didn't like it. I'm sorry. Jeez! I'm stupid." He glared angrily at his feet.

She snickered. "You bumped me on the head with the paint roller."

He dropped the paint roller and was close to her again in an instant. "Are you O.K.?"

She was having trouble keeping a straight face. "Yeah. Fine. My bandanna however, is traumatized." She took it off and demonstrated the spruced bandanna. "Ooh, turn around."

"What?'

"Come on, let me see."

He turned around and she burst into a giggling fit, seeing that she had marked the back of his shirt with the paintbrush. He faced her again, perplexed. "I don't suppose you're going to let me in on the joke?"

"We painted each other…" she said mirthfully, gesturing with her paintbrush. "We've marked our territory." When she said that, the laughter stopped. They stared into each others' eyes for a while.

"You want to go out sometime. You know, like a date?" Luke, said, breaking the silence.

"I think we're on our first date," she replied.

"No. A date is where you dress up - hopefully in unpainted clothes - one party picks the other up for dinner, they go to a movie, you know."

"I think a date is whatever we want it to be. We can save the kissy-face for after our date though; we've got open paint here buster. We can talk and paint, and kiss goodnight." She paused, "Luke…"

"Changed your mind already?" He shied away a little.

"No. I want to be open with you. Let's go slow. I know I'm not supposed to talk about other men on the first date. Hah, too late for that. I broke up with someone two months ago, and then Christopher pulled his stunt tonight. I want to make this last. I'm dating a best friend. I don't want to hurt him, you know." She smiled playfully. "Hmm, one more kiss, then I can get back to painting. Wouldn't want the paint to dry, so you better get to it."

"You got it."

As they shared their second kiss, someone who was walking toward the diner stopped suddenly and gaped at the new couple. That someone then turned around and walked quickly in the direction they had come.

I was so touched by the speed that reviews came in last time that I wrote this chapter 6 hours after publishing the first. The delay comes from letting it sit around awhile to make sure it didn't smell first, though. Don't asked me who saw them, I'm not sure myself yet.