Coverage May Be Excluded Without Prior Notice
April 2001
Sensible. She had to be sensible. She'd had her fun, sown her wild oats, taken a teeny tiny stroll on the wild side; but now it was time to get back to reality. There might be some who say that she and reality share only a fleeting acquaintance, but they would be wrong. Dead wrong. Despite what she chose to show the world, Lorelai Gilmore was well acquainted with the bastard. As a matter of fact, they were intimate, and had been for over sixteen years.
Reality meant that you stopped living for yourself and started living for someone else. For far too many years, Lorelai took that advice to heart. It was only when Rory reached adolescence and reality clobbered Lorelai over the head with the realization that she wouldn't have Rory forever. She started to realize that living for yourself and living for someone you love as much as she loves Rory do not have to be mutually exclusive. She had finally convinced herself that she had been wrong. The sad part was, when she finally decided to embrace a little self-love, the kind that didn't involve battery powered appliances, she had no idea how to go about it all.
Oh, guys asked her out. They flirted and talked and tried to impress her with their cars, their deep pockets, or athletic prowess, or in one slightly disturbing case, dubious singing talent. Needless to say, Lorelai had a difficult time picturing herself living for a guy who thought she should swoon when he sang 'My Boo' to her answering machine in a scary falsetto. Luckily, she got home before Rory that day, and all evidence was erased. She had just about decided to put the idea of men back on the shelf and fork over the extra fees for an unpublished telephone number when she took her first sip of Luke's coffee.
She'd gone in there that day wanting to see the stunned recognition on his face, to taunt him a bit and to revel in the disappointment on his face when he saw what he was missing. She'd left without any of her expected prizes, but holding a cup of the most incredible coffee she had ever tasted. Lorelai considered that a pretty fair trade off. As she got to know him better, she came to appreciate him more and more. After all, what woman doesn't like a guy who can barely contain his disgust when he looks at her, and always has a bitingly sarcastic comment on hand for almost every occasion? She couldn't help herself, she flirted outrageously, she mocked him mercilessly, and she tormented him relentlessly every time she found a chink in his armor. Well, not every time. It quickly became obvious that the gruff and grumbly diner guy had a soft spot for Rory, and she certainly couldn't fault him for that. Teasing him about Rory was strictly off limits.
A part of her wishes that she could say that the decision to ask him to sleep with her was an impulse. That way, she couldn't be held completely responsible for her actions. She wishes that she could say that, but it simply wasn't true. She'd never been able to shake the memory of that night in KC's, and the more she saw of Luke, the more she wanted to know how he could. She also knew that the odds of Luke Danes ever wanting to date someone like her ranged somewhere between slim and none. It wasn't that she didn't think he found her attractive; she'd caught him looking too many times for it to be that. It was simply the fact that they were two very different people from two very different worlds with two diametrically opposed outlooks on life. Luke made no secret about the fact that he found most of her habits disgusting and her personality irritating, but the more she thought about it, the more Lorelai felt convinced that, like a height difference, none of that would matter if she could only get him horizontal.
It worked like a charm. But then, he made no further move, made no string laden overtures, and happily went along with her plan to pretend as if it had never happened. She waited and waited until the waiting became unbearable, and then she went after him again. His rejection knocked her for a loop. Yes, her ego was soothed when he told her that he was attracted to her, but her heart felt a little bruised when she heard what he said about being jerked around, and her ego took a brutal beating when he told her that she wasn't the woman who could jerk his chain. She retreated, contenting herself with his friendship, and nurturing it a little more to make up for whatever mysterious pain and suffering he had endured. It was only when she sat down in front of the television to start making a list of repairs that needed to be done around the house that she realized that she had never told him that she was attracted to him. Chalking that up to a delicate male ego, she changed that misconception as soon as she possibly could.
And so it began. The stolen nights led to days where she woke up smiling. The lingering glances as he poured her coffee or served her pancakes made her heart rate speed up. His soft, sweet kisses made her ache almost as much as his rough, demanding hands on her body. And that smile, oh, that devastating smile. She knew she had it bad, and that really wasn't good. She knew that Luke wasn't the guy for her. She knew he didn't want to be the guy for her. And she knew that even if he thought he did, he would be wrong because he didn't really know her or what she really wanted. He couldn't know because she hardly knew herself.
The Lorelai she knew wouldn't do what she did today.
December 1999
The weeks following Luke's birthday were heaven and hell. Heaven, because something seemed to have changed. Something or someone had opened up. The Hell part was that Lorelai wasn't exactly sure if she was the one who cracked, or if it was Luke.
All she knew was that when she walked into the diner, his eyes automatically sought hers. When they talked, even if it was only to exchange their usual discourse concerning her questionable food choices, he leaned a little closer. And the most damning evidence of all, he smiled. He smiled when she walked through the door. He smiled when she flirted her way to a third cup of coffee. He smiled when she lingered a little too long at his counter.
Once again, she waited. Lorelai waited, knowing that at last he'd come looking for her. She dropped broad hints; letting him know when Rory's Christmas break started and making a point of casually mentioning of the requisite school break celebration sleepover, and how she would be home all alone. She waited, curled and glossed and wearing a new set of lingerie under her oh-so-casual-evening-at-home wear. She waited until midnight, but he never showed.
She tried not to be mad. She told herself over and over again that they had agreed that she would come to him. But it didn't matter. She wanted him to come after her. She wanted him to do something or say something that would let her know if he was in or he was out. He didn't. And when she walked into the diner three days later, she felt a rush of vindication when she saw his smile falter a little. It served him right.
She played it cool for six whole days, flitting in and out of the diner before he even had a chance to catch her with that smile. By New Year's Eve, Rory and Lane were ensconced on the couch with a year's supply of junk food, and Lorelai was dressed to the nines for a quick pass through Miss Patty's annual ode to auld lang syne. She dropped a tube of strawberry lip gloss into her clutch as she clattered down the steps in her high heels.
"Okay, I'm going to make a quick appearance, avoid the punchbowl, and be back here before the ball drops. You got everything you need?" she asked as she searched for her keys.
"We're fine, Mom," Rory assured her. "Party like it's 1999."
Lorelai snorted. "If there are any short guys in ruffled shirts and purple crushed velvet wanting to take me for a ride on his motorcycle, I'll call to let you know I'll be late." She found her keys under a pile of mail on the kitchen table and then rushed to the hall for her coat.
"No jungle love," Rory called after her.
"Oh-e-oh-e-oh," Lane added as she bit into a chip.
"Baby, you're a star," Lorelai sang as she pulled the door closed behind her. She pulled her coat closed over her dress and trotted to the car, her teeth chattering as she hummed 'Purple Rain' under her breath. The Jeep purred to life, and a blast of cold air gushed from the vents. "Eep!" she batted at the vents, pointing them away from her as she waited for the heater to catch up.
"Purple rain, purple rain," she sang as she backed down the drive. "Purple rain, purple rain…" As she pointed the Jeep toward the town square, she clutched the steering wheel and belted out, "I only want to see you bathing in the purple rain!"
Humming softly to herself, she cruised toward the square. Her eyes automatically drifted toward the dimly lit diner and the words from the old song burst from her. "I never wanted to be your weekend lover," she sang out as she slowed to a stop outside of the dance studio. "I only wanted to be some kind of friend," she muttered the next line as she killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition as she bailed out of the car.
She stood on the curb, her eyes drawn to the diner once again, and she saw him. She saw him leaning against the back counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his head turned so that he could watch her. Lorelai felt a sizzle of anger as she saw him standing there as still as a statue. And then, he lifted one hand to wave to her and the anger began to dissipate. She tried to cling to it, desperately gathering the tiny bubbles of indignation; only to have them burst into nothingness as she raised her own hand in brief acknowledgement and then fled for the safety of the dance studio.
It was hot in there, too hot. It seemed like the whole town was packed into Miss Patty's that night, including those that never darkened her doorstep for the town meetings. She moved through the crowd, steadily making her way toward the makeshift bar and trying to ignore the tiny seeds of hope that were taking root in her gut. Avoiding the punchbowl, she batted her eyelashes at Sy until he took pity on her and mixed her a weak rum and coke. Then, she set forth from the bar determined to circulate. Time and again, she found herself check the door, waiting for it to open and for Luke to appear. Time and again, she was disappointed.
Lorelai knew that she should have known better. If Luke wouldn't show up at her house without an engraved invitation, even if he knew the coast was clear, he certainly wasn't going to show up at a party at Miss Patty's looking for her. Still, she couldn't help it. As the alcohol warmed her veins, it also fired her imagination. In her mind, she could see him striding across the room, pulling her into his arms leading her in slow, lazy circles around the dance floor. She snorted softly, quickly dismissing the image because she couldn't credit the thought that Luke Danes danced at all, much less in public. No, it would be more likely that he would stride across the room, wrap his long fingers around her wrist and drag her from the party. She saw herself trotting after him, trying to catch up to him in her high heels. He'd pull her to his hard chest the moment the diner door closed behind them, his lips crushing hers as he couldn't hold back any longer.
Someone jostled her arm, and her drink splashed onto her hand; jolting her from her daze. Lorelai shook the sticky liquid from her hand and then abandoned the cup on a nearby chair. She checked the time on her pager, and then scanned the room, picking out a few people she needed to talk to before she could call it a night. After dutifully dispatching her New Year's greetings to Sookie, Patty and Babette; Lorelai went in search of her coat and slipped quietly out of the dance studio into the cold night.
She paused on the sidewalk, pushing the stifling air of the party from her lungs and dragging in the crisp cold air of the Connecticut night. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, letting Jack Frost take a bite out of her nose, and feeling the sting of the winter wind on her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that a lamp lit in the apartment above the diner. She clenched her teeth, working up the strength to tear her eyes away, when she saw movement in the window near his bed. Blinking rapidly, her gaze focused on Luke sitting in the window, the curtains pushed aside so that he could view the square below, and a bottle of beer clutched in his hand. She could feel his stare, burning through the pane of glass, harkening to her. Lorelai took two small steps toward the diner and then stopped. She met his gaze head on, and sensed more than saw the tiny wave of the fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle.
A minute may have passed, could have been more or possibly even less before either of them moved. Finally, she saw him lift the bottle to his lips, making no effort to rise from his chair, and that was all she needed. Lorelai ducked her head and hurried for her car, closing herself into the safety of the driver's seat and huddling into herself as she seethed inwardly. She started the Jeep and wheeled out of the spot, pressing the accelerator hard as she zoomed from the square. Too angry to go home to Rory and Lane, she cruised the streets of Stars Hollow, weaving her way around town as she tried to settle her jumbled thoughts.
I can't, I won't know when it's okay… I'm just telling you now that any time is okay with me, but you're gonna have to tell me when you're free…
One rule. He had only one rule, but for some reason, that was the one she was having the hardest time living with. She wanted him to crack. She wanted him, just once, to want her bad enough to break the rules.
I'm a guy, Lorelai, look at me cross-eyed and I want you…
But she wanted more than want-want. She wanted him to want. Want her for more than her body or just a few laughs, or her amazing kid. She wanted him to want all of her so badly that it made him cross-eyed.
I want you. I want to love you…
She knew those words couldn't mean what she wanted them to mean, but she hung onto them. She wrapped both hands around those words spoken in the heat of the moment and held on, wishing she could hear them in the cool light of day.
I wanna stay here. Your arms and legs wrapped around me. You wrapped around me…
Lorelai found herself sitting at a stop sign staring at the town square. She stared through the barren tree limbs at the diner, knowing that she wanted the same thing. She wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms, burrowed down in his ridiculously tiny bed, wrapped around him; holding him deep inside of her where no one else could have him. The hell of it was that she wanted that out of bed too, and she knew that it just wasn't going to happen. It gnawed at her, this vague discontentment with her life.
It made her angry because she knew that she should be content. She had everything she could possibly hope for; a wonderful kid with the brightest of futures ahead of her, a home that was truly a home, and a job that challenged and exhilarated her. Okay, so she didn't have a white picket fence and a husband waiting for her with her slippers when she walked through the door. She did have a friend, a good friend who truly cared about her and Rory. She had a friend who could wrap his arms around her and make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, if only for a few hours. It should be enough, she told herself sternly. It had to be enough.
Lorelai jerked the wheel and turned back toward the dance studio. Reclaiming the parking spot she had just vacated, she pulled the keys from the ignition kicked the door open. When her feet hit the pavement, she turned and saw Luke walking through the diner to the door. She froze as their eyes met and held. Her feet began to move before her brain could issue the command. As she saw him standing still just inside the diner, she felt it again, that sizzle of anger zipping through her veins. When she climbed the steps, he opened the door and let her in.
"I was just locking up. I thought you went home," he said as she passed.
She wanted to slap him. Lorelai curled her fingers into a fist as her side to keep from doing it. She wanted to slap the arrogance right out of him. He'd been waiting for her, watching her, hoping she'd come to him so that he could get laid. He couldn't be bothered to ask her to come by. He wouldn't make the slightest effort to walk over to the party and drag her out of there. But he wanted her here. He wanted her to come here and beg him to want her. Well, I won't beg, she decided as she threw her shoulders back. I won't ask him for anything, I'll take.
"We have fifteen minutes," she said as she brushed past him, heading for the curtain. She didn't look back to see if he had followed her. When she was halfway up the steps, she heard him behind her, and smiled grimly.
"Fifteen minutes?" he asked as he hurried up the stairs after her.
Lorelai simply nodded and pushed through the frosted glass door into the apartment. "Rory and Lane are at the house," she said as she tossed her purse onto the table and shrugged out of her coat. After draping it over a chair, she kicked off her shoes and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, wriggling them down under her dress. When they fell to the floor, she looked up to find him staring at her in disbelief. "Are you just gonna stand there?" she asked impatiently.
"Um, what's going on?" he asked.
"We have fifteen minutes," she repeated as she took his arm and pulled him over in front of her. She bent her head and began to pull the tab of his belt from the loops, working it quickly free of the buckle and then tearing open the button fly on his jeans.
"Lorelai," he protested as he moved to stop her.
"You don't want to?" she asked, looking up at him at last.
"It's not that," he began.
"Yes or no, Luke, the clock is ticking," she reminded him.
Lorelai could see the confusion and indecision in his eyes as he let go of her hands. He leaned in to kiss her, and she dodged him, moving so that his lips grazed her cheek and jaw. Taking that as a 'yes', she pushed his jeans and briefs down over his hips. She worked them down to his thighs, surprised to find that he wasn't as ready and raring to go as he usually was. Giving him a gentle nudge toward the kitchen chair, she braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down into it as she sank to her knees.
It didn't take much. The moment her lips closed around him, she could feel his body surge and her own body tingle with excitement at the power she wielded over him. His cock swelled against her tongue, filling rapidly as his fingers plunged into her hair. "I wanted you to come over tonight," he murmured, letting her hair sift through his fingers.
Lorelai hummed against him, feeling a rush of heat flooding her body. She took him deeper into her mouth, pulling his groans from him with each stroke of her lips and tongue. When his fingers tightened in her hair, she lifted her head and quickly rolled up to her feet. Luke stared up at her, his blue eyes dark and hazy with desire as he blinked slowly. She raised the hem of her dress, exposing her bare white thighs and the dark thatch of hair to his heated gaze.
"You wanted me?" she asked softly.
"Yes," he answered, reaching out to pull her toward him.
Lorelai stepped back. "You still want me?" she asked in a low, taunting voice.
"God, yes," he growled as she pushed him back against the chair.
Lorelai pressed her lips together as she stared down at him. "Good," she said as she swung one leg over his, turning to face the door as she straddled him.
"What are you doing?" he asked as she bent her knees, lowering herself onto him.
"I want you to fuck me, Duke," she said as she took hold of his cock, and began to impale herself on him.
"Don't start that again," he growled as he reached to steady her hips, guiding her down as a deep groan wrenched from his chest.
Lorelai held her breath until he was all the way inside of her, her ass pressing against the soft cotton of his shirt as she held him there, feeling him pulse against her. "You ready, Duke?" she asked as she circled her hips teasingly.
"Lorelai," he grunted.
"You're right, there's not much time," she said breathlessly. She planted her hands on his knees and pushed off of the floor, beginning to ride him hard and fast. She heard his ragged breathing, and felt his fingers curl into her hips, trying to slow her. "No, Duke, faster, faster," she panted.
He thrust up off of the chair, pushing into her deep and hard and Lorelai moaned. The muscles in her thighs burned with exertion as she continued to ride him wildly, the angle of her body as she pushed onto his knees gave her the friction she craved as his shaft brushed her clit again and again. He continued to thrust into her, using her hips as leverage as he ground against her, his breath escaping in strangled grunts. Lorelai balanced on one hand, reaching up under her dress to stroke her clit as her climax coiled and burned deep inside of her.
She reached for it, every fiber of her being grasping for the release that hovered just out of reach. She felt his body tense and heard him moan her name as he shot into her, the heat of his orgasm burning through her body as she chased after her own. She whimpered in frustration, stroking herself faster and faster as she continued to plunge down onto him. When he reached to cup her breasts, she flailed, batting his hands away. He stilled, and the fact that she knew he was letting her have her way made her boil with uncontained anger. She used it, channeling the heat the flooded through her to focus on getting what she needed. But when she finally broke; it wasn't satisfaction that flowed through her, nor was it pleasure. Lorelai hung her head as she pressed down onto him, waiting for the choking breathlessness to subside, and praying that she'd be able to breathe normally again once the unbearable frustration eased.
Dimly, she felt his fingers trailing down her back, the heat of his palms searing through the thin fabric of her dress. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with concern.
She raised her chin and turned her head, her gaze falling on the muted television. She blinked at the brightly lit ball that stood tall over Times Square, wishing the damn thing would just snap and fall to the ground, shattering into a billion pieces. Slowly, she pushed herself up off of him; stumbling a little as she moved away, her legs quivering with exhaustion.
"I have to go," she said without turning to look at him.
"Lorelai, wait," Luke implored as he scrambled up off of the chair, yanking his jeans and shorts back over his hips.
She scooped up her panties and shoved them into her coat pocket before swinging the heavy wool up over her shoulders and jamming her arms into the sleeves. Cramming her feet back into her shoes she used her trusty get out of jail free card. "I told Rory I'd be home before the ball dropped."
"Lorelai," he said again as his hands closed around her arms, pulling her back against the solid wall of his chest.
She couldn't help it, he felt so good; warm, solid and strong. He felt like everything she wasn't in that moment, but so desperately wanted to be. She felt him nuzzle her hair, and heard him inhale deeply as he wrapped his arms securely around her waist. "I wish you didn't have to go," he said in a low, husky voice.
Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could, trying to steel herself against the lure of him. "I have to," she said at last, reaching for her purse.
"I know." His arms loosened slightly, but he didn't completely relinquish his hold on her.
She knew he was waiting for her to turn to face him, and a little part of her hated him for it. Plastering a smile on her face, she turned and pressed her lips gently to his cheek. "Happy New Year, Luke," she whispered as she backed away.
"Happy New Year," he answered quietly as his arms fell to his sides.
"A new millennium," she said, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice as she reached for the doorknob.
"It's not the new millennium yet," he grumbled, looking down at his feet and then back up at her.
"Close enough," she said with a nod, and then hurried into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her.
April 2001
She had been trying so hard to embrace it, this new facet of their friendship. She was trying her very best to let go of that other facet, the one that they couldn't have anymore. He was trying. Lorelai could see that Luke was trying to make things work with Rachel. And even though a little part of her died each time she saw them together; as his friend, she was proud of him. Happy for him. She told herself that she must truly be happy for him because as the days went by, she had to remind herself of the fact that she was happy for him fewer and fewer times.
She had something of her own, such as it was. Max called daily. They talked, or rather he did. Lorelai both anticipated and dreaded those phone calls. She looked forward to them because they proved that she was important to him; important enough for him to make the effort. She dreaded them because the conversations often turned probing. Each day when she hung up she felt as if she had just taken a test, and she wasn't sure if the answers that she had for Mr. Medina would be enough for her to pass or fail. There were times when she wondered uncharitably if he had ganked one of his students' copies of Cosmo Girl and was subjecting her to an endless round of 'Are you compatible' quizzes. She knew logically that this was Max's way of taking things slowly, of getting to know each other better before tumbling back into bed again. But as the questions persisted, as he winnowed his way back into her life; Lorelai couldn't help but resent the fact that Max couldn't understand her as easily as Luke did.
She knew that the comparison was unfair. Luke had years of gradual learning and acceptance behind him. It was this realization that made her understand that she simply couldn't compete with Rachel. She had the years with Luke that Lorelai didn't have. She had a deeper relationship, one not based on friendship and an occasional romp in the sack. It was apparent now that Rachel still had his heart, even as he battled through the confusion his convoluted relationship with Lorelai had spawned. Luke was trying and Lorelai felt that she owed it to him, as a true friend, to help him however she could.
She honestly meant to help. She set forth that morning with his credit card tucked into her purse and the sole mission of searching for a present that Rachel would appreciate much more than a set of meowing oven mitts. But as she took her victory lap through Bloomingdale's, she saw a blue shirt hanging on the rack that perfectly matched his eyes. As she tore through the men's department, a niggling little voice told her that it wasn't her job to dress him, it was Rachel's. Lorelai petted and pawed her way through the soft wools and cashmeres, justifying it to herself that this could be just another part of a birthday surprise he could present her with.
The look of horror on his face as she pulled garment after garment from the bags made her laugh as she hadn't laughed in weeks. The ease with which he allowed her to propel him toward the store room with black suit pants and the startlingly blue shirt in hand made her feel needed. She brushed aside his protests, slipping the suit jacket over the bright blue shirt and standing back to admire her selections, singing her own praises when he refused to do it for her.
"Can I change now?" he asked as she fussed with the lapels.
"Admit it, I did good. Didn't I do good?" she asked Joe, who sat perched at the counter waiting for his lunch.
"He's stunning," Joe deadpanned, earning a menacing glare from Luke before he turned on his heel and stomped back to the store room.
"Order up!" Caesar called.
"Got it," Lorelai answered, hurrying to the window to retrieve Joe's burger. As she set it down in front of him, she saw the sleeve of a black shirt dangling from one of the bags. She quickly snatched it up and hurried for the store room.
"Hey, before you change, let me just see this shirt with the pants," she called as she barreled into the room. Lorelai pulled up short as Luke turned toward the door, the bright blue shirt hanging unbuttoned over his bare chest.
"I'm changing here," he hissed.
Lorelai wet her lips and forced herself to step forward. "I just want you to try this one last shirt," she said as she pushed it at him.
Her fingers made contact with the crisp hair on his chest, and she felt a jolt of awareness rocket through her body. She knew instantly that Luke felt the same jolt, because she could feel his heart begin to hammer beneath her knuckles. Her lips parted as her head jerked up; her breath catching in her throat as she glimpsed the unguarded longing in his eyes. He leaned down, and she tipped her head back, breathlessly awaiting the feel of his lips on hers.
"Hey, you've got customers out here, you know!" Joe shouted.
Lorelai jerked back, thrusting the shirt into his hands. "I've got it," she murmured and then fled from the room. Her movements were jerky, keeping time with the staccato beat of her heart as she refilled Joe's cup, and then began to shove her purchases back into the bags.
"What's next?" Joe asked, eying the clothes critically.
"Black shirt," she mumbled, waiting for the blush in her cheeks to cool.
"He takes as long as a girl," Joe commented, picking up a fry as he turned toward the door to the back room with mild interest.
Lorelai knew that she couldn't simply escape now. "Come on!" she called to Luke.
She had to stifle her smile as he answered, "I hate you, very much." Flashing Joe a grin she shrugged and said, "Save the sweet talk for Rachel. Get out here!"
When he appeared, her smile warmed. "Excuse me sir, do you know where Luke is?"
"Very funny," he grumbled, glancing down at the black pants and shirt.
"Oh my God, Luke, is that you?" she gushed playfully, trying to get back on sure footing.
"I feel ridiculous."
"That's because you don't have the belt on," she pronounced as she pulled a new black belt from a bag. "Here," she said as she walked over to him and threaded the belt through the first belt loop.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
"It's called accessorizing."
Luke batted her hands away and grabbed the end of the belt. "I can put a belt on by myself, thank you."
"Okay, sorry," she said quickly as she stepped back. "Hmm."
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
"I just…" she started and then stopped.
"What?"
Lorelai smiled at him and shrugged. "I just have exceptional taste is all. Turn around."
"What?"
She made a circling motion with her hand. "I just wanna make sure it all fits. Turn around." As he turned, her smile turned smug. "Uh huh, uh huh," she murmured, nodding approvingly at the way the pants draped over his ass.
Joe smirked and said, "Hey Fabio, I need the ketchup."
Luke sighed. "Can you get that guy some ketchup?" he asked impatiently.
"Why me?" she retorted.
"Because if I spill any stuff on this I won't be able to return it."
Lorelai rolled her eyes and reached for a ketchup dispenser. "You're not returning those clothes."
"Oh, yes I am," he grumbled as he reached for a price tag.
After giving Joe his ketchup, she reached for the suit jacket. "Here, try on the suit again."
"I already tried it on twice," Luke argued.
"I know, but I want to see it with the black shirt."
"I'm not wearing a black suit with a black shirt."
"Regis does."
"Okay, you've won me over now," he muttered under his breath.
" Just try on the jacket again," she said as she held it open for him.
"This is how you like your guys, all GQ'ed up, huh?" he asked as he slid his arms into the jacket.
"It's not GQ'ed up, it's just a little less casual," she told him.
"And you don't like casual."
"I like casual fine."
"Just not on me," he grumbled.
Lorelai had to smile as she heard the note of petulance in his tone. "No, it just adds variety. It's not let's make a new Luke, its let's see another side of the old one."
"Uh huh," he grunted dubiously, watching as she fussed with the hem of the suit coat.
"You missed a loop. Come here," she said as she tugged at his belt. "What did you do?"
The bells rang, and Luke's head jerked up. "Oh, hi," he said as he spotted Rachel in the doorway.
Lorelai frowned as she felt him tense and looked up to see who the newcomer was. "Oh, hi. Uh, this is not what it looks like," she babbled as she moved away from Luke.
"It looks like you're dressing him," Rachel observed coolly.
A nervous laugh bubbled up past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in her throat whenever the other woman was nearby. "Then this is exactly what it looks like," she tried to joke.
"There was a sale at Bloomingdale's and she…" Luke tried to explain.
"Six trillion percent off," Lorelai interjected.
"How can you walk away from that, huh?" he said with a breathy chuckle. When Rachel continued to stare at them impassively, he jerked a thumb toward the back room and said, "I'm gonna change now."
Lorelai hurried to the counter and unearthed her purse from under the bags. "Good, uh, I'm gonna get Rory and just… Enjoy the clothes," she said with a brisk nod.
"I will," Luke answered.
"Okay good. See you later Rachel," she said as she brushed past Luke's girlfriend.
"Bye," Rachel said, still staring at Luke quizzically.
Lorelai paused in the doorway for a second and then muttered, "Bye," before making her escape.
Lorelai pressed her head back into the couch cushion, listening to the silent house settle around her. Rory was gone. She'd run away to Hartford, to the safety of Lorelai's parents' house. Her daughter had run to the very place Lorelai herself had run from so long ago. When she realized that Rory was gone, her first impulse was to call Luke. Of course, she squashed that quickly. She knew without a doubt that Luke would drop whatever he was doing and rush over. She also knew that she couldn't do that to him. Not only had they come far too close for comfort that day, but she knew that Luke would be beside himself with worry. She pictured him racing all over town, banging on doors and checking behind every shrub for any sign of her daughter, and she knew she simply couldn't do that to him.
Rory was her responsibility and hers alone. The shame she felt in hiding her tenuous relationship with Max from her daughter and the upset that it had caused was too intense. She couldn't let Luke see how badly she had screwed everything up. She couldn't stand the humiliation of knocking the pedestal he had put her relationship with Rory on out from under him. So instead, she called Sookie and then Max, hoping that cooler heads would prevail, and that somehow she could find her daughter and salvage the tattered shreds of her pride.
And now, Max had gone, Sookie had gone, and Rory was safely tucked away in the bedroom Lorelai had escaped from too many times to count. Just weeks ago, her father had caught her climbing out that very window. Just weeks ago she escaped home to Stars Hollow, only to realize that it was no longer the haven she had thought it was. Lorelai pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, trying to make sense of where she had gone so terribly wrong.
March 2000
Mahatma Gandhi had nothing on Luke Danes, she decided as she watched him move around the diner, clearing the dishes from the last of the tables.
Luke's particular brand of passive resistance in the weeks and months following their New Year's Eve encounter was making her crazy. He smiled at her when she came into the diner. He grumbled and complained as he served her food. He made snarky comments and laughed at hers as if nothing had happened. He never asked her what was wrong. He never hinted that anything could be amiss between them. He never knocked on her door, or asked when he'd see her again. Instead, he stood behind his counter, watching her and waiting.
It was as infuriating as it was arousing. He was Everest, and she yearned to conquer him. She wanted him to ask. Her ego demanded that she make him plead. She wanted him to want her as badly as she wanted him, but no matter how outrageously she flirted, cajoled, or tormented him, he never flinched. It made her itch to break him. She felt like a tourist mugging shamelessly in the face of the guards at Buckingham Palace. All she wanted was to see him crack, and she was determined that tonight would be the night.
"So, where's Rory tonight?" he asked as he wiped down the counter.
"It's Spring Break. She's spending the night with Lane," she answered, trying to sound nonchalant.
"I see," he said as he straightened up. When she looked into his eyes, she could see the unspoken question there as plain as day. All she wanted was for him to speak it. She held his gaze, trying to keep her expression as neutral as his, and seething on the inside when she realized that her eyes had betrayed her bland countenance. "Let me just lock up," he said with a nod.
"Oh, did you want me to stay?" she asked innocently as he walked to the door.
Luke hesitated, his hand on the lock. "Do you want to stay?" he countered.
Lorelai blinked. "That's not what I asked."
Luke turned the lock and walked back over to where she sat perched on her stool. "It's up to you," he said simply, and then walked toward the curtain that hid the stairs to his apartment, leaving her to make her choice.
Lorelai stared at the door, weighing her options even though she knew that her answer was a foregone conclusion. She swiveled on the stool, watching as the curtain swayed back into place, and feeling the anger roiling in the pit of her stomach. She leapt from the stool and dashed after him.
"We don't have to do this, you know!" she shouted as she chased him up the stairs.
"Up to you," he called back from his apartment.
Lorelai stopped in the doorway, her chest heaving as she clung to the frame. Luke stood in the center of the room, his hat tossed onto the chair and his flannel already unbuttoned. "Damn it, Luke!" she shouted as she stomped into the apartment.
"What? Isn't this what you wanted, Lorelai? No strings, no questions, just an available body!" he said, flinging his arms out wide.
"What the hell is your problem?" she demanded, stunned by his apparent anger.
"My problem?" he retorted. "I'm just doing what you want, Lorelai! You have an itch, I'm here to scratch it. Wasn't that the deal?"
"Go to hell," she spat.
"What? What did I do wrong?" he ranted. "I did just what you wanted me to do!" He reached for the buckle on his belt and asked, "You wanna do this or not? Totally your call."
"This was a mistake!"
"You're damn right it was!" he roared. "I'm sorry, Lorelai, I guess I'm just not cut out to be your boy toy. I don't like feeling like a piece of meat. I don't like you screwing me and then screwing with my head!"
"How did I screw with your head?"
"You come here wanting me to touch you, wanting me to hold you, and I do, but you don't even know who I am," he yelled. "My name is Luke, not Duke, and I'm not on the fucking menu for you to order up any time you feel like it!"
"When I feel like it?" she screeched. "What the hell did you expect? You never come to me! You never make the move! It's always me, Luke! You wanna know what it's like to feel like trash? You go begging someone to sleep with you! See how that feels!" she shouted. Lorelai whirled and ran from the apartment, slamming the door behind her so hard that the glass rattled in its frame.
She heard his boots rumbling down the stairs as she grabbed her purse from the counter and bolted for the door. Unshed tears blurred her vision as she fumbled with the lock.
"I told you that you'd have to come to me," he said breathlessly.
Lorelai froze for a moment, and then slowly turned to look at him. "It won't happen again," she said in a choked voice.
He crossed the diner, shaking his head as he reached for her. "Lorelai, don't," he said quietly, his hand closing around her arm.
She swiped at her tears with the heel of her hand. "Just let me go," she whispered.
"I can't. Hey, don't cry," he said as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "You came here," he said gruffly as he kissed her hair. "I want you to stay."
"You do?" she asked warily.
"Yes."
His voice broke over the word, and Lorelai closed her eyes, trying to decide if it was enough of a break. He kissed her forehead tenderly, and then framed her face in his hands, tipping her head back to capture her lips. His kiss was so sweet that it made her heart ache, his fingers slid into her hair and she felt herself melting into him, his heart beat wildly against her chest, and when his hand slid down her arm and his fingers closed over hers, she knew that she had lost.
Without a word, he pulled her gently toward the stairs. Lorelai followed him back up to his apartment, knowing that it was the worst thing she could possibly do. She stood docilely next to his bed, accepting his kisses as he peeled her clothes from her body, knowing that she wanted him too badly to say no, and despising her own weakness. She stroked his skin, feeling it glide against hers as he kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts and her stomach, committing the texture of it to memory. She willingly gave up every moan, every sigh, and every gasp of pleasure, knowing it was the very least she could give him, but wanting to give so much more. She squeezed her eyes shut as he entered her, wondering how anything that felt so right could still feel so wrong. And after she shuddered beneath him, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, her body clinging to his as he emptied into her; she stared up at the ceiling, feeling him slip away from her once again.
Lorelai curled against him, her fingers sifting through the hair on his chest and stomach as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. They didn't talk. She didn't tell him about the costumes she had made for the high school drama club in hopes of securing glowing recommendations to accompany Rory's application to the Chilton Academy. He didn't tell her about the latest fundraising scheme he had overheard Taylor outlining to Miss Patty. Lorelai hung onto him, reveling in the feel of his arms around her as she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again hours later, he snored softly beside her. Carefully, she slipped out from under his arm and sat on the side of the bed staring down at him. Her body felt sluggish, her muscles aching from their clandestine activities. She looked down at her body, wondering how it would feel to not have that ache, to have someone in her bed each night, and if her muscles would become as accustomed to it as her heart surely would. She studied his face in the dim glow from the streetlights and sighed tiredly.
Silently she eased from the bed and began to gather her clothes. Luke rolled onto his back, his fingers splaying over his stomach and rubbing it absently in his sleep. She dressed quickly; hoping to leave without waking him, and knowing that she didn't have the energy to resist if he came after her again. Holding her shoes in her hand, she looked down at him, the corners of her mouth curving into a sad smile as she marveled at how peaceful he looked when he slept.
Bending at her waist, she leaned down and brushed the barest of kisses to his forehead before walking to the door. As she pulled it closed behind her, she told herself that she wouldn't be back, that she simply did not have the stamina to chase after him. "It won't happen again," she whispered into the darkened apartment, and then pulled the door closed quietly behind her.
April 2001
Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lorelai pushed off of the couch and walked over to the CD stand in the corner. She ran her finger along the jewel cases as she read the titles, searching for one in particular. When she found what she was looking for, she dropped the disc into the player, feeling a twinge of perverse pleasure in the pain she was about to inflict on herself.
Bad decisions, she thought as she studied the track numbers. Sleeping with Luke was a bad decision, but it ranked nowhere near the disaster that falling for Luke turned out to be. After she left him fast asleep that night, she resolved to get her personal life on track. She no longer went into the diner alone at closing time. She no longer flirted quite so outrageously. She didn't hold his gaze for a beat too long, and she didn't allow her eyes to stray toward the curtain they had disappeared through countless times. She noted with grim satisfaction that as the weeks and months passed, his devastating smiles and delightful scowls became more and more infrequent, gradually being replaced by stony stoicism and studiously bland indifference.
Still, she couldn't help slapping at that indifference a little. She told him when that Chilton dad drove to Stars Hollow to ask her out, and was gratified to see a flicker of heat in his eyes. She kept her mouth carefully shut when Max came on the scene, letting the infamous Stars Hollow grapevine do her dirty work for her. When her dad fell ill at Christmas time, he drove her to the hospital, no questions asked. And when she felt her control slipping, she let herself be comforted by him as a friend who was just a friend would.
She had almost convinced herself that they would survive it, that their friendship could continue as it always had without paying the price for the extra benefits that they had reaped. And then everything spun out of control.
She consoled herself that she had made the right decision after hearing Rory's vehement opposition when Lorelai dared to ask her opinion on the possibility of dating Luke. Even more frightening was the fact that Rory seemed to be accepting Max as a part of their lives much faster than she was herself. She'd had to put a stop to that. Sookie and Jackson finally got it together enough to go on their first date, but not without dragging Lorelai and Jackson's cousin Rune along on a farce of a double date that Blake Edwards would have killed to have the rights to film. She sat on a stool at Luke's counter, trying to give the new couple a little space, and for one heart-stopping moment it seemed that Luke had decided to finally make a move. And then, he didn't. She cursed Mrs. Kim and her impeccable timing for days after that.
Then, she was hit with a double whammy. First, it was Luke's violent reaction to a sweatshirt she had liberated from a rummage sale bag. Her subsequent discovery that the sweatshirt had probably belonged to the heretofore unnamed Rachel sent her reeling. Then, there was the humiliation of realizing that Luke had every reason in the world to interpret her innocent call for help as a possible booty call. Lorelai steadfastly ignored Sookie and everyone else when they tried to imply that Luke might have feelings for her, Lorelai knew better.
By the time Christopher rode into town, she already beginning to doubt the wisdom of every decision she had ever made. Listening to her parents and his rehash the sins two teenagers had committed sixteen years before, and the fact that, despite all that she had accomplished, she continued to be a disappointment to her parents, made it even more unbearable. She retreated to her room as she had always done, and climbed out onto the balcony. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she tipped her face up to the moon, willing the chilly spring wind to wash away the waves of self-doubt that crashing relentlessly against her. Unfortunately, she hadn't had enough time to regain her composure when Christopher followed her through that window, and she knew that there wasn't enough tequila in that bottle to blame for her own inherent weakness.
As long as she lived, she'd never forget the flash of pain in Luke's eyes as she stood shivering in front of him in her pajamas, or the sharp sting of his voice as he quietly concluded that someone else that was the reason she had let him down. The disappointment in his voice cut her to the quick. Her disappointment in herself drove her to subject herself to a healthy dose of self-inflicted punishment in his apartment a few nights later. She tried to deny herself any pleasure she might feel as his hands moved over her body, and failed. She had to deny herself the taste of his lips, because she knew deep down that she didn't deserve, and probably wouldn't survive, the tenderness of his kisses. She left him that night feeling even more empty than she had when she appeared, and considered it ample reparation for any damage her negligence may have done. After all, she and she alone knew what it had cost her to go to him that night. And as she lay awake in her bed trying to forget all over again what he felt like, how he tasted, and how much she wanted him, she decided that couldn't take it anymore.
The music played through the speakers, but Lorelai hardly noticed as she fell back onto the sofa, cushioning her head against the arm rest. Instead of Prince and the Revolution, she heard the silence of Rory's absence and the dull thud of her own pulse in her ears. She closed her eyes, recalling her careful planning, the speech she had rehearsed over and over again in her head, and the list of damn good reasons that he should love her back that she was prepared to argue if necessary. It would be perfect; Rory would be out with Dean, the town would be immersed in the Firelight Festival, and if she could just survive Friday night dinner with her parents without Rory as a buffer, she would go to Luke Danes the moment it was over and tell him that she loved him.
A single tear seeped from her eye as she stared up at the ceiling listening to Prince screech that that times were changing and that it was time to reach out for something new. She pressed her lips together and blinked back the tears that threatened, telling herself that she should be thankful. Thankful she hadn't been crushed by a papier mache star, and Rory hadn't been orphaned. Thankful that she and Luke hadn't had the chance to mercilessly mock people who said, 'Hey, how's it going?' She was thankful that her baby was safe and warm in her mother's childhood bed at that moment. Thankful that Rachel had walked back into the diner on that particular day and not a day later. Thankful that Max had decided that she was worthy of a second chance, and thankful that her friend, Luke, was finally getting what his heart desired.
As Prince droned on and on about the purple rain that apparently plagued Minneapolis, she swung her legs from the couch and lurched for the stereo, jamming her finger at the stop button repeatedly before pressing eject. She yanked the disc from the player and glared at it for a moment, recalling how close she had come that day to trying to steal Luke from another. She had no right to do that, not to him, not to Rachel and not to herself. She still needed him to be her friend.
Lorelai's fingers curled around the disc for a moment, and then she hurled it against the wall with all her might, breaking down and letting the tears she had held back all night flow freely as she prayed that her lapse in judgment didn't mean that their friendship had to end, because even Prince himself thought that would be a shame.
tbc