A/N: You guys are awesome! I thank each and every one of you for the enthusiastic reviews. It just makes writing this story so much easier.

Before we dive right in to the next installment, I just wanted to take time to bow at the feet of Filo, Mags, and Grizzly, who did everything from betaing to forcing me to get into a writing mood to patting my hand and whispering soothing words when I disliked something I had written. Also big thanks to the rest of the SCPP, who put up with my complaining by telling me to shut the heck up ;)

comedic interlude Look, I can juggle...Oh, wait... drops all the balls

On with the show!

Chapter 2: Hallelujahs

She couldn't breathe.

Lorelai weaved her way through the crowd of familiar faces, a forced smile plastered on her face. She had to get out of there. It was hot, and things were said, and she saw things, and now she couldn't stay in the house any longer. She was suffocating.

Down the stairs and through the living room she went. Past her daughter and Lane fiddling with the new laptop. Past Kirk and Bootsy doing a karaoke duet to "Islands in the Stream." Past a drunk Miss Patty attempting to feel up her lamp. Past Babette and Morey sharing a slow dance to Kirk and Bootsy's song. Past the person she couldn't bring herself to look at, nursing a beer in the corner of the room. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't care. She just had to get out of this place where she couldn't breathe.

"Hey, do you think I should break out shish-kabobs now, or wait until everyone has finished off the baklava?" Sookie asked as Lorelai dashed through the kitchen. But, Sookie's question remained unanswered, as her friend was already distracted by the hiss of the grill pan, and Lorelai's retreat was uninterrupted.

She pulled open the door gracelessly, wincing as it slammed against the wall. A blast of cold air greeted her, immediately chilling her face, and she closed her eyes and savored the sensation. She sucked in air in big, exaggerated gulps, gripping the wall next to her for support. Her lungs ached from the exertion, and she sank on to the floor, her back against the house.

This couldn't be happening. One minute he was Luke, and now…now? She wasn't sure how he fit into that Luke mold anymore. A few days ago, he poured her coffee and lectured her about the dangers of red meat. But lately, it was different, he felt different. He baked coffee cakes and blew up balloons, and was the almighty bearer of ice, and apparently, the one who looked at her like she was a porterhouse steak. She didn't understand the change, couldn't comprehend the change. But, as she thought that, she realized that maybe there wasn't a change. She had just refused to see anything different before.

He wasn't supposed to look at her like that. In fact, she should be offended. But, in the back of her mind, she wasn't, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She felt like she had high expectations when it came to men and for that, she blamed both her extravagant childhood and movies. Sometimes, she wanted the grand gestures, Gere showing up in uniform, picking her up and carrying her away or Swazye pulling her out of the corner, and every time she had been on the receiving end of a gesture, any gesture, it always fell short. There was Christopher with his ill-time proposals, Mark McKenna with his fancy restaurants, and Lance Ellis with his abundance of floral deliveries. And then there was Max, driver of the gorgeous Mustang and instigator of the date that never was. The man who met her for coffee and stroked her sweater with utmost affection. The man who spun a bogus story about his uncle that she fell for, head over feet. And, she liked Max. She liked all those other men too. May have even loved some of them. But, they fell short.

When Luke walked in the house with the bag of ice, however, he was far from falling short. In fact, he looked and seemed like a freakin' god, because of his knack for knowing exactly what she needed when she needed it. He was truly worthy of Sookie's hallelujah exaltation. Seeing him with the ice, hugging him with the ice, made her body well up with hallelujahs.

That was new and very interesting indeed.

There was still Max to consider. She was feeling something for him, in spite of all the reasons why she shouldn't be. He was nice, and he liked Rory, and he wasn't bad to look at. It was the first guy she had been seriously interested in in a long time. She couldn't just ignore that. He stirred up emotions in her that were startling and appealing, and she liked that. He wasn't a safe choice. But, then again, when had she ever gone for the safe choice.

Luke certainly wasn't safe either.

She wondered if it worked like that. If one day you could feel so strongly for one person, and the next…

But that implied that she felt something and she wasn't sure if she did. Yet.

Luke wasn't about grand gestures, she realized. He was about diner food and saving the earth and gruff tirades. He made sure she ate, even if her diet went against everything he considered healthy. He poured her cup after cup of glorious coffee. In those first few years, after the Crap Shack had been purchased and the money was generally tight, he was kind enough to let it slide when the change in her pocket occasionally came up short. He never questioned whether or not she would pay it back. He never let on he knew about her money issues in front of Rory. He even allowed her to keep her pride intact by not saying anything when she could pay it back. He gave so freely. He volunteered without hesitation, even when she was pestering him with her stupid household chores. He put giant candles in a little girl's muffins on her birthday. He baked coffee cakes. He handwrote birthday messages on balloons. Never forgot a birthday. Never stayed mad at her for too long. And baked coffee cakes. Coffee cakes!

So many little things made Luke…Luke. And she knew that if it had been Chris, or Max, or any other person who had brought the ice to her door that night, she would not have flung her arms around him and had the desire to praise him with choruses of hallelujahs. But, he knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. She needed him because of that.

She sank further into herself, resting her forehead on her knees. Shit. It was a wonder she had been able to start breathing again.

She heard the door open, but didn't budge from her position. She expected it to be Sookie, since she had witnessed her flight to the back porch, or even Rory. She didn't look up until the person who had joined her on the porch had cleared his throat and she realized that it was him.

"Hey," she said as she raised her head.

"Hey," Luke responded with a slight grin. "Some party."

"Yeah," Lorelai breathlessly stated. Try as she might, she couldn't smile, couldn't strike up the banter that symbolized normalcy for them. If there was ever a wrong time for him to see her, this was it. Not now. Not in the middle of a revelation. Not when she still doesn't know what it means. "It's something."

"You okay?"

"Oh," she said quietly, surprised by the question. "Uh, yeah…yeah. I'm good. I just…got hot. Couldn't breathe. I needed some air."

"Yeah," Luke nodded, and he took a seat next to her on the porch, mimicking her position with her knees pointed up. For the first time, she noticed he was carrying two beers in his hand. "It was a little stuffy."

"And Kirk was singing," she said, smiling in spite of her mouth's earlier aversion to it.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Yes he was." He rested his head against the wall, the bill of his old hat bending under the pressure of it. He shifted his gaze to the dark yard.

She could only watch him.

"That for me?" Lorelai asked, gesturing to the beer in his hand.

He looked down at his hands, as if suddenly remembering that they were full. He handed the full bottle to her. "Yeah, here."

"Thanks."

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Luke seemed fascinated by the paper lanterns she had hung earlier that day. But she could only focus on how close their knees were to touching.

"Why did you come out here?" she asked, the question escaping her lips before she could even think about it.

Luke shrugged. "Saw you rushing out of here. You looked like you could use a drink." He turned to look at her, and their eyes met. Her breath caught in her throat, and in that moment, her knee slipped and knocked lightly against his. But, if he felt it, she couldn't tell. His eyes were still locked on hers in such an intense stare, she had to look away.

"You always know," she mumbled under her breath, staring at her knees.

"What?" Luke asked softly, and she could tell he was still looking at her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, and she stood. "I should probably…" Lorelai trailed off, pointing to the door behind her.

"Check on the birthday girl?" he supplied.

"Yeah…You gonna stay out here?"

He nodded."It's quieter. No 'Islands in the Stream.'"

"Not a fan, I gather?"

"Not even close," Luke said with a grin.

"Okay, well, I should go." She walked to the door and wrapped her fingers around the knob. "Don't saunter off without saying goodbye."

"I won't," he promised. "And I never saunter."

She laughed and gave him a small wave as she opened the door.

There were so many little things, good things about him that resonated in her mind so loudly that they were practically screaming at her. Then, there were so many reasons why he shouldn't be a possibility, why he wouldn't be a safe choice. It scared her and confused the hell out of her and she wasn't ready to make him a possibility yet.

She went inside, wordlessly picked up a tray of shish-kabobs, and plastered the smile on her face again. She couldn't deal with any of this now. Right now, there was a party she was supposed to be hosting. There would be time, but it may have been coming a little sooner than she was ready for.

A/N: Well, what do you think? Know where this chapter fits into the grand scheme of things yet? Can't wait for more. Loved it? Hated it? Please let me know in your review. They really are helpful, I swear.

comedic interlude So, a piece of string walks into a bar, and the bartender says, "sorry, we don't serve strings here." So, the string goes outside, ties himself into a knot, frays his edges a bit, and walks back in. Now, the bartender was not a stupid man, and he said, "hey, aren't you the same piece of string that was in here a few minutes ago?" "No," the string said, "I'm afraid not."

Get it? Afraid not...Frayed knot! giant hook pulls Robin off stage

I hope to be back with the next installment soon!