A/N: My disclaimer here is that I am still as high as a kite on various decongestants. My claim to fame here is that Olivia Jane took the time to check this chapter over to be sure it was fairly coherent. Isn't she the coolest? This one takes big leaps back and forth between two points in time. Just warning you, in case you are as dizzy as I am. Smooches!
Pre-Existing Conditions Covered
April 1996
She'd seen him around town. He was hard to miss. The backwards baseball cap was a dead giveaway.
The first time she spotted him was about six or seven months after their encounter in the bar. She and Rory had made hot chocolate and were taking a walk in the first snow of the season, recounting the glory of Rory's eighth birthday party the weekend before and speculating about Koko the Klown's ability to post bond. As they circled the gazebo, Lorelai looked up and there he was. Flannel shirt, baseball cap and scowl firmly in place, as he swept the freshly fallen snow from the steps to the old hardware store. At least, she assumed he was scowling. It was much easier for her to picture him scowling. She didn't want to remember that smile, that smile had stopped her heart for what must have been a full minute. It was better to remember the scowl. Hooking her arm through Rory's, she had led them full-circle around the gazebo and pointed them back toward the inn, claiming that she was cold and hoping she could blame the brisk wind if the pink in her cheeks didn't fade by the time they got home.
She'd seen him here and there after that, but not often. He seemed to pop up every six or eight months like clockwork, reminding her of that humiliating night at the bar, and lighting a match under her late night fantasies, just as she had gotten them to fade. There was the time that she saw him at the post office, when she took an inordinate amount of interest in the outdated FBI posters while he bought stamps. Another time, it was at that bank, where she saw him flash a ghost of that killer smile at Judy the teller, and dropped her purse; scattering the contents at her feet. When she noticed someone else stooping to help her retrieve her belongings, Lorelai held her breath as she looked up from under the curtain of her hair. The relief she felt when she saw that it was Andrew from the bookstore was only slightly tainted by the disappointment she felt when she turned and saw the guy in the flannel shirt walking out of the door.
She'd seen him around town. She seemed to have some kind of radar where that guy was concerned, and she didn't like it one bit. She saw him behind the counter of the hardware store he had apparently converted into a diner. She saw him at the occasional town meeting. But never once, in all of these sightings, did the man in the backwards baseball cap give any indication that he had seen her.
Lorelai Gilmore had come a long way in the past four years. She was older now. Wiser. More worldly. More in control of her own destiny. Or so she liked to think. Her hard work had paid off. She was a success. The years of scrimping and saving, sewing Rory's clothes on a second hand sewing machine late into the night, and her exceptional coupon clipping abilities had made it possible for her to be a homeowner. Her daughter's big blue eyes and winsome smile that had suckered Andy, the retired carpenter who served as the inn's handyman, into doing the necessary repairs to make it habitable, making her proud to be a mother. And just a month before, Mia had announced her plans to retire to California in order to be closer to her grandchildren, and named Lorelai as the Independence Inn's Executive Manager.
Like the promotion to Assistant Manager, this most recent move up the career ladder only fueled her natural ambition. Lorelai realized that as Executive Manager, she would have more flexible hours; not only giving her more time with Rory, but it would allow her the time to take the business courses she had been considering. Mia, in her usual fashion, wholeheartedly approved of the plan, and offered to front Lorelai the first semester's tuition. Lorelai, in her usual fashion, declined with a heartfelt thank you and a fierce hug; telling Mia that she had done enough already, and showing her the packet forms she had already received from Hartford Community College's financial aid department.
This new promotion, and the hefty raise that came with it, also allowed her to splurge a little. Not much, because there was still a mortgage to be paid, but a little. And Lorelai Gilmore's first real splurge? Pop Tarts. Well, not so much the Pop Tarts themselves, as the fact that they were out of Pop Tarts. Instead of waiting for the weekly trip she and Sookie made to the larger supermarket in Woodbridge, Lorelai decided to run to Doose's Market to pay forty-five cents more for the same box.
Now this is living large, she told herself as she grabbed a box of frosted Strawberry Pop Tarts from the shelf. At least I'm not a complete hedonist; these have fruit-like stuff in them. The pang of guilt that she felt at not saving those precious pennies was real and tangible. So real, that she forced herself to head for the produce section and quickly dropped three oranges into a plastic bag muttering, "No scurvy in the Gilmore household." Her hand stilled, suspended midair as she reached for a twist tie, and looked up as she heard someone approach.
The guy in the flannel shirt. The same backwards baseball cap wearing guy who had kissed the living daylights out of her nearly four years before appeared at her side. She gaped at him as he grabbed a head of lettuce from the stack, but before she could formulate the word 'Hello', he turned and stomped his way toward the check out. Twisting the paper wrapped wire around the plastic bag, she cocked her head as she inched her way toward the front of the store. She saw him slap a dollar bill down on the counter and head for the door without pause.
Taylor Doose called out, "Luke! Lettuce is one-fifteen a head now!"
The guy turned his scowl on the man in the apron, and reached into his pocket. "Tell you what, Taylor, I'll peel off the brown stuff on the outside and cut out the hard chunk in the middle and bring it back to you. We can call it even," he growled as he slapped a quarter down on the counter and then stormed out.
"Don't you want your dime?" Taylor shouted after him to no avail.
"I'll take it," Lorelai said as she placed her Pop Tarts and oranges on the counter.
"That boy," Taylor muttered as he shook his head.
"He seems like a cheerful guy," she joked, favoring Taylor with a smile.
"I tell you, that man does not have a happy bone in his body," Taylor muttered as he rang up her purchases. Shaking it off, he looked up and asked, "Did you find everything that you needed?"
"Oh yes, and then some," she said as she gestured to the oranges.
"We don't see you in here very often, Lorelai," he said leadingly.
"Oh, well, uh, Rory and I eat most of our meals at the inn," she offered lamely.
"I see. Well, I suppose that's just as good. It's important for people to support their local businesses, you know. Spending our money in Woodbridge or Litchfield doesn't help Stars Hollow's economy," he said pointedly as he bagged her groceries.
"No. You are right about that, Taylor," she answered with a grave nod.
"Can we still count on you for the Spring Fling costumes?"
"I'm in," she said with a nod. "Just let me know how many tulips you need."
"Excellent," Taylor said as he handed her the brown paper bag.
"Thanks," she said with a winning smile as she made a quick exit.
"Crap," she muttered as soon as she hit the sidewalk. "If you didn't mark everything up ten thousand percent maybe more people would shop here."
"What's that dear?" Miss Patty asked as she hurried by.
"What? Oh, nothing," Lorelai said as she drew to a halt. "How are you, Patty?"
"Oh, I'm wonderful, dear," Patty said with a sly smile.
Lorelai's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"
"Me? Nothing. I'm just enjoying my afternoon constitutional," she drawled as she lounged against the lamp post.
"Making good progress with that?"
"I do fine, dear, and I must say, the scenery around here is exceptional," she said as she leered comically at the window to the diner.
Lorelai turned and found herself looking directly into the flannel guy's scowling face. She stared back at him, waiting for a flicker of recognition, or maybe even a hint of that smile. Instead, his scowl deepened as he shook his head in disdain and turned away, disappearing into the next room.
Lorelai dropped her gaze to the sidewalk as Patty sighed heavily. "I suppose the show is over, darling. He'll hide out in that kitchen of his until he thinks it's safe to come out."
Lorelai swallowed hard, that familiar rush of humiliation warring with a fresh batch of indignation and setting her cheeks aflame. "I need to get back to the inn. See you later, Patty," she called as she rushed away.
"Goodbye, sweetheart. Kiss that precious girl of yours for me," Patty answered as she pushed away from the lamp post.
March 2001
Lorelai wandered through the crowd with no particular destination in mind. Rory is off nuzzling meatballs and celebrating three whole months of puppy love, and I am climbing out of my old bedroom window to escape incredibly boring actuary. What is wrong with this picture? Click, click, click. The whir of a rapidly closing shutter caught her attention and she turned. Rachel stood off to the side, her camera pressed to her eye as her finger pressed the shutter release in rapid succession.
Rachel. Elle Macpherson- pretty-Rachel. Rachel, the girl that broke Luke's heart. Just the sight of her made Lorelai's own heart clench. She is beautiful. Totally Luke's type too. If Luke has a type, she thought as she watched Rachel blend seamlessly into the milling crowd. She fits. She fits here. She fits him.
Lorelai turned toward the blazing bonfire, clutching her cup of non-Luke's coffee in her gloved hand as she lost herself in the flames. She saw him there, standing on the other side of the counter, handing the cup of fresh coffee to her. She saw him there, standing in that darkened apartment, confusion in his eyes and worry etched into his face. She saw him there, shifting from foot to foot outside of her door, holding a container loaded with mashed potatoes. She saw him there, willingly pinned beneath her as his hands roamed freely over her body; his eyes locked on hers, his lips curved into that devastating smile.
She glanced down at the cup filled with imposter coffee and sighed as she closed her eyes.
I should be happy for him. A real friend would be happy for him. This is what he wanted. This is what he has hoped for. Lorelai opened her eyes and turned on her heel, her eyes scanning the crowd, knowing that if Rachel was here, Luke probably wouldn't be far away.
April 1996
Good God, all of a sudden she's everywhere. Luke stomped into the kitchen and tossed his order pad onto the counter, pressing the heels of his hand to his eyes and trying to block out the image of those wide blue eyes staring back at him. Years. I went years without seeing her, and now I can't even turn around without stepping on her. She's like a bad penny, she just keeps turning up. Where the hell was she when I wanted to see her?
For two months following that fateful night, Luke had haunted KC's bar night after night, nursing a single beer through the early part of the evening, and wanting to keep his wits about him in case she came in again. She never did. It got to the point where Kevin would start trying to hustle him out of the bar at ten, knowing that was the point where Luke would give up for the night and call for the Jack Daniels. And he blamed her and Jack Daniels for the fact that one night he had been blitzed enough to chat up another chatty brunette with bright blue eyes, leading to his next disastrous attempt at a relationship.
He and Anna Nardini had not been a good match; any fool who wasn't wearing beer goggles could have seen that. But he didn't. All he saw was another girl with lustrous brown hair and blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled. All he saw was someone who seemed to want him. At least, she did for a while. It worked out okay, though. All he wanted was someone who was not Rachel. They limped along for a few months, finally calling it quits after another seemingly endless dinner that consisted of eating substandard food at a restaurant he never wanted try in the first place. The screaming toddler at the next table had only been a convenient excuse to escape.
And escape he did, from Anna and from the world. Luke buried himself in his work, opening the diner before dawn and closing it down only when the town rolled up its sidewalks at night. He avoided KC's and sipped his single bottle beer each night in the privacy of his dimly lit apartment, watching the world roll by on the CNN ticker. He managed to carry on quite nicely that way for a year and then two. And then, Rachel blew back into town.
He was skeptical, at first. She was apologetic, as usual. He was reluctant to jump, resisting her attempts at reconciliation. She dove in head first, wearing him down by strapping on an apron and proving herself indispensible. Before he knew it, she was back in his life and back in his bed. Within weeks, he wondered how he had managed without her, and within two months, she was gone again.
He knew he shouldn't have been surprised. He knew she wouldn't stay. He'd hoped. He had dared to hope for so much more than a hastily scrawled note about a National Geographic gig in the Congo. He had hoped he would have rated somewhere above snapping pictures of apes or gazelles or whatever the hell it was that they had there. But, in the end, he knew he never would. As much as she loved him, and he knew that she did, he knew that she would never be content to be tied to this town; or worse yet, to his apron strings.
And so, Rachel was gone, and she was back again. The girl with the weird name he couldn't quite remember. The girl with the laser beam eyes and the laugh that still echoed in his head. Amazing how she always shows up when Rachel leaves, he thought sullenly. Like one of those crows in the movies. A harbinger of doom, that's what she is, he thought as he scraped the grill. Well, she's not going to be my doom. Been there, done that, got the postcards to prove it.
March 2001
Luke looked up as Rachel dropped down onto the bench beside him. "You getting some good stuff?"
"Oh yeah, yeah, the firelight really changes people, ya know?" she asked, her voice soft and dreamy. "Makes them seem happier, freer, all troubles of the world completely gone."
Luke smirked at her typically optimistic assessment. "I don't think that's the firelight. I think it's the Founders Day party punch they've been selling."
"Oh yeah, that stuff is good," she said with a knowing nod.
Luke chuckled softly and then looked down at his gloved hands. "Okay, at some point, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?" he asked bluntly, not willing to give himself the opportunity to wuss out.
"I'm putting more film in my camera."
"Rachel."
She sighed. "What? I told you, I was at the airport, now I'm here."
"Oh well sure, when you put it like that," he said sarcastically.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't sound all that happy to see me," she said warily.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have a tendency to show up and then leave, quite suddenly. One of your more charming attributes," he muttered under his breath.
"So, you're not happy to see me?" she joked. When he shot her that knowing look, she wilted. "Luke, I don't know what I'm doing here. I just missed you. I wanted to see you. I don't know what else to say."
Luke inhaled deeply, the sincerity in her voice slicing through his defenses. "I missed you too."
Rachel nodded, accepting his simple statement as the best that she could hope for at this time. "So, since we're both being blunt, what's the deal with Lorelai?"
Luke's head jerked up. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Lorelai, the lady who runs the inn, the one you've told me absolutely nothing about, and been very careful to leave out of every story, anecdote, or gossip about the town," she said leadingly.
He had to chuckle and she knew him too well. "There is no deal with Lorelai. We're friends," he said gruffly.
"For now?"
"Yes," he answered as honestly as he could.
"And in the future?"
"Well, Lorelai is, she's just uh…I don't know. I mean, at time it seems like, I don't know," he trailed off, knowing that he hadn't really said anything at all, and that Rachel knew him well enough to know how many volumes that spoke. He glanced over at her, soaking up the warmth of that familiar smile. "But I am happy to see you," he said, his voice soft and raspy.
"Good," she answered with a nod. "I'm gonna get some of that party punch. You want some?"
"That stuff will kill you."
"Oh Luke, some things never change."
As he watched her walk away, he knew in his heart that some things never would. He loved Rachel, and Rachel loved him. But the one thing that would certainly never change was the fact that she didn't want to be here, and he never wanted to be anywhere else. In a way, it was easier, knowing that. There was no guess work involved. No sleepless nights wondering about how she felt about him, or what she wanted out of life. In that way, he knew that he and Rachel were a good match. What you see is what you get. Unlike some other people, who only let you see what they want you to see.
He jumped, startled from his thoughts as Lorelai dropped into the spot Rachel had just vacated.
"Hey. Where the hell's the fire department when you need them?" she asked by way of greeting.
Luke shifted away from her slightly, disconcerted by her mere proximity. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be in Hartford?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"Climbed out the window."
"Okay."
"That's it. You're not curious why?"
"No."
"That's what I love about you," she murmured as she turned to stare at the bonfire.
Luke bit his lip, letting her glib statement roll off his back, knowing that there were plenty more where that one came from. "Hey, how long you been here?"
"A little while."
"Did you see Harry and Taylor get into a fist fight?"
Lorelai gasped. "No! Aww! How did I miss that? I'm so bummed!"
Luke chuckled, amused by her genuine enthusiasm for violence and mayhem. "It was good."
Lorelai nodded, looking away to keep from being caught in the tractor beam of his smile. "So, where's Rachel?"
Luke stiffened slightly, rubbing his hands together nervously as he said, "Oh, she's a founder's party punch junkie."
"God, even the nice girls aren't safe."
Luke nodded. "Yeah. She's been running around here taking all kinds of pictures."
"She's having a good time."
"I guess so. I hope so," he added, trying to sound more upbeat.
"So?"
"Yes?"
"So, what's the haps with you two?" she asked, starting to lose her grip on her patience.
"The haps? Well, let's see. What is the haps?" he said slowly.
"I mean, like, you know, what's going. . ." she started to prod.
"I know what you meant by the haps," he snarled.
"Okay, well you're repeating it like a thousand times," she complained, letting go of her patience.
"I was pondering," he huffed.
"Well you ponder really slowly," she said mockingly.
"If I did it fast it wouldn't be pondering. Pondering by nature is a slow connotation," he snapped.
"Okay. Fine, fine," she conceded.
"It's okay."
"Is she staying?" she asked bluntly.
"I don't know."
"Do you want her to?"
"I don't know," he answered as honestly as he could.
"She seems to really like you," she said with a soft smile.
Luke nodded. "Yeah she does, but she doesn't have the greatest attention span," he said, his voice faintly condemning.
"Yeah," Lorelai said, dropping her eyes to the coffee cup cradled in her hands.
"But she is here," he mused, watching carefully to gauge her reaction.
Lorelai nodded slowly, forcing her lips to curve into a small smile as she looked over at him. "Yes, she is."
"I don't know. You spend a lot of time debating things, ya know? Is it right, is it wrong, or should I do this, should I do that. I mean, sometimes you should just jump in and take a shot," he rambled, still watching her closely. When he didn't see even a flicker of emotion on her face, he smiled grimly and said, "What's the worst that can happen? She left before, I lived. Maybe this time," he murmured wryly, rolling his eyes at himself.
Lorelai hazarded a glance in his direction. "I think that's really great," she said softly.
"You do?" he asked, unable to squelch the surprise in his tone.
"Yeah."
"Thanks," he answered, still trying to puzzle her out.
"You're welcome."
Luke gave up, shaking his head slightly at her polite response. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go check up on Rachel."
"That's nice," she murmured as he moved to get up.
"What?"
"That you have somebody you can go check up on. That's nice," she commented mildly.
"Yeah it is. Unless she's completely drunk and throwing up," he said dryly.
Lorelai's smile was a pale facsimile of the ones that usually lit his mornings and nights. "Still nice," she insisted.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, bumping her leg with his knuckles.
"Tomorrow," she confirmed, her eyes following him as he ambled away.
April 1996
The problem with raising a precocious kid is that no matter how precocious they are, they are still a kid and there are some things you can't tell them. Rory, honey, we can't go try out that cool looking diner across the square because Mommy sucked face with the diner guy in a bar four years ago, and now she is too embarrassed to face him, she thought with a smirk.
"Okay, maybe there aren't any pancakes on the menu per se," she admitted slowly. "But there is Chinese food and that means Moo Shu. And Moo Shu, Grasshopper, means there are indeed pancakes at Al's Pancake World. They are simply Chinese pancakes," Lorelai justified, gesturing to the menu with a triumphant wave of her hand.
"Okay, but the next time we get to go out to eat we're going to the diner place," Rory said, using the patented Gilmore pout against her mother.
"It's a diner, what's the big deal?" Lorelai asked defensively.
"Lane says the food there is really good."
"How would she know? She lives on tofu and wheat germ."
"She knows because Luke's is a Mrs. Kim approved location, and sometimes Luke takes pity on Lane and slips her a few fries."
"Well, if it's Mrs. Kim approved that's enough to keep me away," Lorelai grumbled as she perused the menu.
"I still say we're going," Rory insisted, exhibiting the stubborn streak that came in the bundle as the pout.
"I say we'll go there when you get a job and you can actually treat me to my birthday dinner," Lorelai muttered, knowing that sooner or later, she'd have to give in.
March 2001
Lorelai blinked, slowly bringing the blazing bonfire back into focus. Biting her lower lip, she looked away from the dancing flames, letting her eyes adjust to the dark as she tried to pick out familiar faces in the crowd. Babette and Morey. Sookie and Jackson. The world seems to be turning into one giant ark. We're all moving two by two. She scanned the revelers, desperately seeking out the other singles she knew would be there. Kirk, Patty, Taylor, this is the company I keep, she thought with a tiny wince.
She kept going, her gaze dancing over couple after couple until it landed on single shadow standing alone. She felt his gaze on here before she could even make out his face. "Luke," she whispered, her lips barely forming the name. Her eyes met his and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body, as he pulled his hands from his jeans pockets.
It was there, and then, it was gone. Luke turned away as Rachel wrapped both of her arms around one of his, pressing her body close as she whispered in his ear. That jolt that sizzled through her veins just a fraction of a second before turned a sharp twist of a knife in her gut as he smiled at her, warming the wayward photographer with the full wattage of his smile and putting the bonfire to shame.
April 1996
There she was again, rushing across the square with that little girl trailing behind her. Luke tossed the rag he had been using to wipe down the counter onto the shelf below it, and turned away from the window.
"I'm tellin' ya, the girl is a hoot! So smart!" Babette crowed to Miss Patty.
"It's a good thing she is smart, because honey, the girl has no rhythm," Patty said, shaking her head sadly.
"You need anything?" Luke asked gruffly.
"Nothing that's on the menu," Patty purred. "Care to show me your specials?"
Luke rolled his eyes and began to bus the table next to them, careful to do so from the opposite side, far away from Patty's pincers.
"I tell ya, that Lorelai, she's amazing," Babette said with an affectionate smile. Luke's head popped up the moment he heard the name. "Raisin' that baby all on her own, buying that house." She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know how she does it; she's barely more than a baby herself!"
"She looks young, but she has to be more than thirty," Patty speculated.
"No! She's twenty-eight! That's what I'm tellin' ya. She just turned twenty-eight today! Rory was eleven on her last birthday, which means she'll be twelve this year!"
"Usually works that way," Luke muttered under his breath. When the two ladies turned to look at him, he picked up the stack of plates and mumbled, "Twelve comes after eleven."
Patty turned her attention back to her friend. "I knew she was young when she had her, but that means…"
"She was sixteen! I did the math," Babette said with a shrug.
Luke grabbed the rag and a spray bottle and hurried back to the table as he heard Patty ask, "Where's the father?"
"I dunno. I don't think he's around much. They don't really talk about him," Babette reported, her disappointment in not having more complete information evident in her tone.
"Sixteen," Patty murmured thoughtfully.
"I know. That's one way to grow up real fast, huh?" Babette commiserated.
They fell silent for a moment, and Luke wandered away, absently straightening napkin dispensers and salt shakers as he passed through the diner. That's her kid. Wow. Not a little sister or a cousin or something. She had a kid at sixteen. He placed the spray bottle and rag carefully back on the shelf and then leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. So, the mystery girl has a kid. Not so shocking, right? I mean, she lit up like a firecracker when I kissed her, he reasoned. A furrow creased his brow, forcing the corners of his mouth down into a deep scowl. A single mom with a twelve your old kid.
Luke blinked a few times, coming in for a landing in the land of now as Babette approached the counter with their ticket in hand.
"How're you doin', Doll?" she asked with an annoyingly sympathetic little smile on her face.
"I'm fine," he snapped as he snatched the ticket from her fingers.
"Ya know, the best thing you can do is just dive right back in there," she said with an emphatic nod.
"I'm not diving into anything."
"Luke, you're far too handsome a man to waste your life pining away after Rachel," Patty chimed in.
"I'm not pining."
"I can introduce you to my new neighbor!" Babette exclaimed."Gorgeous girl! Just gorgeous!"
"I don't need you to introduce me to anyone," Luke growled as he counter out their change.
"It'll do you good to get back out there and break a few hearts for yourself," Patty said with a nod.
"Yeah!" Babette agreed enthusiastically. "Er, wait, if you wanna go breakin' hearts I don't wanna set you up with Lorelai, then," she said with troubled frown. "The girl's had a hard enough time on her own. She needs a good man."
"Luke is a good man," Patty argued.
"Yeah, but if he's gonna break her heart…" Babette began.
"I'm not breakin' anybody's heart, and you're not setting me up with anyone," Luke said firmly, cutting them off.
"Aw, what a shame," Babette moaned, deflating right before his eyes.
"It's a waste, that's what it is," patty said with a sniff, casting one more lascivious look in Luke's direction.
"Goodnight," Luke called facetiously.
Babette turned back and smiled at him affectionately. "Night, Doll."
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Patty said as she ushered her friend out of the door.
Luke blew out a breath, and leaned heavily on the cash register as he watched them go. He closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself repeatedly that they meant well. When he opened his eyes, he saw that girl, Lorelai, and the young girl who he now knew was her daughter passing by the diner. He stood up straight when the younger girl pointed to the door and tugged on her mother's arm. But then, his shoulders slumped when he saw Lorelai tug back and wave a bag filled with video cases in front of her daughter's eyes like a hypnotist.
March 2001
She kept staring at him. He could feel her eyes following him, but whenever he looked up, she was looking at the fire. He stood too close to it. The shooting flames warmed his face as the sparks from the crumbling pyre died at his feet. Still, he couldn't get warm. She was warped, her body undulating in the waves of heat radiated by the fire, her face blurring and melting before his very eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to block out the smoke and haze, but all he could see was her face blurring and softening as she climaxed beneath him.
He pried his eyes open and stepped back from the fire, blinking rapidly as he wiped away the soot and smoke that made them water. He knew he should be looking for Rachel, but he couldn't look for Rachel when he felt Lorelai's gaze following his every step. Damn it, why does she keep looking at me? She doesn't want me, she's made that perfectly clear. And if she doesn't want me to have anyone else, then tough shit. Did I say a word when she started dating Rory's teacher? No. She can't say a damn thing to me now, he told himself angrily.
Luke looked around, desperately trying to pick Rachel out of the crowd, but suddenly drawing a blank on what she even looked like. He gritted his teeth and turned back to the fire, glaring accusingly at Lorelai through the leaping flames. This time, she stared back at him. He felt that pull, that inexorable tug, reeling him in. He dug his heels into the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets as he resisted the temptation to leap into the fire, just to get her attention.
He stared at her, his jaw clenched and rigid, only loosening as he saw her lips move. He felt a jolt of recognition, though he didn't know exactly which of her thousands of words she had whispered. He stepped back slightly, pulling his hands from his pockets and tried to force his feet to move forward, and not back.
He felt and impact, and jumped when Rachel wrapped her arms around his, clinging to him as she swung her camera aside and pressed his arm to her breasts.
"I missed you, Luke," Rachel whispered in his ear, her breath reeking of grain alcohol. "That's why I can never stay away. I need you too much," she murmured as she nuzzled his ear.
Luke closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of someone knowing that he was needed. He turned to her and smiled. "Can we get out of here now?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
April 1996
He stared at her every time she passed by the diner. She could feel him staring, but yet, every time she looked up, he looked right through her as if she wasn't even there. It was irking her. It was more than irking her, it was pissing her off. She knew that she wasn't a dog. Hell, she knew that plenty of guys considered her hot. Heck, even a twelve year old boy in Rory's class had told her how hot her mom was. But this guy? This guy who once shoved his tongue down her throat looked right through her like she was a pane of glass.
That didn't settle well with Lorelai Gilmore. She could take some condescension. She could handle snooty, uppity and just plain ugly; but the one thing she absolutely could not abide was being ignored. It took a week. Well, six days really. In the six days since she and Rory whooped it up at her fancy Al's Pancake World birthday dinner, she had passed by the diner twice a day, every day, just to see if he would somehow acknowledge her. She knew he saw her. Hell, half of the time, he was staring out at the square as if it held the answers to the entire universe. She knew he saw her, because she looked right at him and he looked right through her without even the vaguest flicker of recognition. And if there was one thing in this world that she absolutely did not want to be, to this guy or to anyone, it would be forgettable.
That's why thirty minutes after her last pass, she was back. Bells rang out merrily as she skidded to a halt inside the suddenly packed diner. "Whoa," she muttered as she found herself casting about looking for an open space and coming up empty.
What she did see were colorful oversized mugs holding vats of dark, rich coffee. The scent of it hung heavy in the air, easily beating out frying onions and the heavenly aroma of hot, fresh fries and making her mouth water. She saw him emerge from what she assumed was the kitchen, and snatch the pot filled with black gold from the burner. He steadily worked his way along the counter, refilling mug after mug until finally depositing the pot on the back counter and pulling an order pad from the waistband of his jeans.
"Can I get some coffee?" she blurted, her voice cutting above the din.
"I'm with someone right now," he answered without looking up.
Lorelai inched closer, trying to line herself up behind his current customer in an attempt to capture his attention. He whirled away from the customer and from her; tearing the order from the pad and tucking the pencil he held above his ear before jamming that lucky order pad back into his jeans.
"Hey," she called after him as he slapped the order ticket down in the window.
"Order up, Caesar!" he called out. He didn't hesitate as he brushed past her, intent on making another round of refills.
"Hey, please? I really need some of that coffee," she tried again.
"Wait your turn," he snarled without even turning around.
Lorelai's jaw dropped. She watched in horror as the pot was rapidly depleted, emptying into everyone's mugs but hers.
"You don't understand. I'm having a hell of a day. This is my first week without Mia there, and Sookie has already scorched an oven hood beyond recognition, Michel is going through room twelve with a tube of superglue because the Bathrobe Bandits are checking in this afternoon, and Taylor just informed me that I need to make thirty-two tulip costumes by next Wednesday. So you can see, I clearly need the caffeine more than these people do," she rambled, chasing him in a zigzag around the crowded diner.
He turned and glared at her. "You're being annoying. Sit down, shut up, and I'll get to you when I get to you," he snapped.
Lorelai stared after him as he walked away, ducking behind the formica counter that clearly marked his fortress of solitude. She hurried over to the crowded counter, elbowing her way between two burly older men and flashing them each a brilliant smile. "Excuse me for just a moment," she murmured to them. She watched as the guy in the baseball cap jammed another filter filled with fresh grounds into the machine and placed a clean pot on the burner.
"Hey, uh, Duke? When's your birthday?" she asked, spying the newspaper the man on her right tucked under the edge of his plate.
"What?" Luke growled without turning around.
"When's your birthday?" she asked again. "Mind if I borrow this?" she whispered to the man on her right.
"Not at all, girly," Sy answered, grinning as he saw the tips of Luke's ears turning red.
"What's it to you?" Luke asked, feigning disinterest as he hustled to clear empty plates.
Lorelai grinned as the man on her left vacated his seat. She slid onto the stool and opened the thin newspaper. "When is it?" she persisted.
"November," he grumbled as he began ringing up tickets on the ancient cash register.
"November what?" she asked.
"Why do you want to know?" he argued, his eyes finally flickering in her direction.
"November 3rd," Sy volunteered. When both Lorelai and Luke turned to look at him, he shrugged and said, "It was election day. Your old man was givin' me a hard time about backing Goldwater when your mom called to tell him she was in labor."
Lorelai nodded once as Luke turned his attention back to the till. "That makes you a Scorpio," the murmured as she scanned the horoscopes. She began tearing the edge of the paper and then looked up at Sy. "Oh, sorry. You didn't need these did you?" she asked, a becoming blush tingeing her cheeks.
"Knock yourself out, girly," Sy said with a grin, sitting back to watch the fireworks as Luke shot him a scathing look.
Lorelai smiled as she tore the horoscope from the paper and then folded it neatly before handing it back to Sy. She pulled a pen from her purse and began to print tiny letters on the scrap of newsprint. Sy craned his neck, cursing his need for bifocals under his breath as she slid the horoscope across the counter.
Luke slapped his hand down on top of it, causing Lorelai to jump back and Sy to chuckle as he scooped it from the counter. His brow knit as he read the tiny print written in purple pen. His eyes flashed to hers, and there for a split second, she saw that tiny spark of recognition before he managed to smother it with a smirk.
"Promise?" he asked as he reached for the coffee pot and a carry out cup.
"I never make promises I can't keep," she said with a satisfied smile.
Luke pressed a lid onto the cup and slid it across the counter. "There you go."
Lorelai grinned as she slapped a dollar bill onto the counter and slid it across in exchange for the cup. She pointed to the newsprint still curled in his hand, and batted her eyelashes. "Keep that. Put it in your wallet. Someday it'll bring you good luck."
He snorted. "Ya think?"
"Count on it." She looked around at the packed diner. "This your place?"
"Yeah."
She took a sip of her hard won coffee, her eyes widening appreciatively at first taste. She blinked rapidly as she took a second sip just to be sure her senses weren't playing tricks on her. When she looked up, she found him watching her, his eyebrows raised and a smug smile tugging at his lips.
Lorelai toasted him with the cup as she slid from the stool and backed toward the door, unwilling to be the one to concede this unspoken staring contest. "Duke, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she said challengingly.
"It's Luke," he barked.
Lorelai grinned as she reached for the door handle, knowing he'd never be able to ignore her again. She opened the door, smiling as the bells jingled happily, and preparing to make her escape. "See you later, Duke!"
March 2001
Lorelai trudged slowly home through the silent streets, the poseur cup of coffee still clutched tightly in her hand. She pushed back the niggling tremors of jealousy that simmered just beneath her tingling skin. She closed her eyes and saw Rachel whispering into his ear, Luke tilting his head toward her, welcoming the intimacy of whatever it was she said to him.
Tiny moments, moments that had been building for months, sending her scurrying out of his reach. His arms wrapping around her, bags of ice cold against her back and bottom as she all but melted into his arms. That moment, that split second just before Mrs. Kim came barging in, when she thought that he would finally take that step that would change everything forever. His lips parting as their eyes met behind that counter, and the almost unbearable knowledge of how they felt as they slid over her skin. That utterly unbearable moment when the hurt and pain flashed in his eyes as she stood in her pajamas begging for his forgiveness in the early morning light.
But that moment proved it, like no other moment could. She could never be enough for him. They could never be enough for him because she could never be good enough for him. And no matter what he says, no matter how much he protests; he knows what he wants. I know what he wants. He wants Rachel. And she's back. Good for him, she thought as she let the front door slam behind her.
Lorelai stood in the foyer for a moment, staring at the unblinking light on her answering machine. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she dropped her purse on the table and reached for the cordless phone. Good for him, she thought again as she dialed a number she had never let herself completely forget.
tbc