Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews on this fic! You can't even begin to know how happy they make me. :) Again, sorry for the horrible delay! But this is a fairly long chapter, filled with lots of L/L interaction so I hope that makes up for it at least a little.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, Romeo and Juliet, or Friends. If this shocks you, well...get some help. Especially for the middle one.

Chapter Six: The "Date"

I stood in front of the mirror and sighed.

Should I call for Rory's help and endure the mocking that would probably ensue? Or should I just go it alone? After all, this was only a fake date to get Sookie off my back. It wasn't even real.

Of course, that didn't stop the pathetic nervousness that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in my stomach. Nor the fact that I had tried on at least eight different outfits so far and every single one of them had looked like crap to my more than slightly biased eyes.

This was ridiculous. No, scratch that; this was beyond ridiculous. It was the most ridiculous of uber-ridiculousness! This was Luke, for crying out loud. Mr. Flannel King himself. Why should I care if my shoes and hair and outfit are perfect?

Possibly because you're in love with him, a voice inside my head mocked.

Isn't it a sign of insanity when you start hearing voices?

Oh well. At least now I have something to blame this whole being in love with Luke thing on.

I reached for a red dress I had bought a few weeks before. I had never worn it, hadn't really even meant to buy it. But, long story short, there was a sale, I fell in love, and I walked out of the store with a new dress and a lighter purse.

Not that, you know, my purse was actually lighter, since I had used a credit card...but speaking figuratively was my thing. At least, it was at the moment.

There was a knock at my door just as I finished zipping up the side of the dress.

"Come in!"

"Hey, Mom," Rory stepped in, automatically steering around the gigantic pile of clothes that was resting a few feet from the door. Her eyes were down, focused on a magazine that she was holding, but the moment she looked up, they widened. "Wow!"

I couldn't help a smile. "That good, huh?"

"Date night?"

I pretended to be preoccupied with the zipper, though it was already done. "You could say that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm, um, sort of...goingonadatewithLuke," I let out in a rush.

"You're what?"

I sighed. "You know, it's really not nice to make people repeat things they've already said. I mean, imagine. Just picture Juliet out there on her balcony, rambling about Romeo and roses, and Romeo down below her shouting 'What did you say?!' every five seconds. Talk about your mood-killer."

"Okay, well, you're avoiding the subject, which means you really don't want to tell me. Which, in turn, means that you have to tell me, because it's important."

"Fine," I huffed. "I said, 'I'm going on a date with Luke.'" I watched her eyes widen again, this time even further, and I was quick to amend. "Not a real one. A fake one."

"A fake date?"

"Yes. A pseudo-date, if you will."

"Mind if I ask why you're going on this 'pseudo-date?'"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Well, too bad."

"Basically, I got out of a blind date set up by Sookie, but only on the condition that I would go on a date with a man of my choice within a week. I forgot, Sookie reminded me, Luke was there, and now I'm here."

"Wow."

"Yep."

She thought for a few seconds, watching my face in the mirror as I experimented with different earrings and suddenly perked up. "You know, this could be a very good thing."

I made a questioning face at her reflection. "How?"

"Because...if you do this fake date right, then you just might get him to ask you on a real one. I mean, it's obvious that he wants to and has for a while." I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone always say this? "But this might give him the courage."

I snorted. "Fat chance."

"Why?"

"Oh, didn't I mention? I'm not good enough to come in first. I'm the runner up. Second choice."

"I get the feeling that I'm missing something here."

"Originally, I asked him out for last night. But he already had plans. With Alli."

"Ouch."

"Understatement of the decade."

"It could have been strictly platonic, you know. Like two friends, reminiscing over old times."

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Sure. They discuss what a great time they had at Billy or Bobby's party, old feelings come up, and the next thing you know, they're making out at their fancy little table for two."

"I think you're letting your imagination run away with you. There's no evidence of that."

"Oh, please. Have you seen the way her little predatory eyes zoom in on him? It's like she's the lion and he's this poor little antelope."

"Did you just compare Luke to an antelope?"

"Yes! It worked, okay? The point is that Alli wants Luke."

"But we don't have an indication that Luke wants Alli."

"I guess..." I admitted hesitantly, not really consoled. I backed a few steps away from the mirror and turned from side to side, examining my reflection, before glancing at Rory. "Just a question, but since when are you all 'Go team!' for me and Luke?"

She smiled and shrugged, but her answer was serious. "Since I saw the way you look at each other."

--

Luke's truck pulled up twenty minutes later. I had just finished putting the final touches on my make up, and was about to move into panic mode.

When I heard the engine cut, it flared up big time.

This was Luke. Why the heck was I going out with Luke? What was I thinking? This would be bad; it would be a disaster. I would get roaring drunk, and confess to him everything that had been constantly at the front of my mind for the last week and a half.

The doorbell rang as I was doing a quick last minute check to make sure I had everything I could possibly need in my handbag. The bell rang again as I clattered down the stairs, Rory trailing behind me, saying encouraging things that, given the fact that I was on the verge of a meltdown, my brain wasn't comprehending.

I got to the door a few seconds later, got a glimpse of Luke in a suit, and made a mental note to limit myself to one glass of alcohol, and one glass only. Because I knew that if I consumed a second glass, I'd want a third, then a fourth, and God only knew what could come tumbling out of my mouth if that happened.

Actually, I knew too, and that was the thing; because I knew it wouldn't be anything I wanted Luke to hear.

"Hi, Luke."

"Hey."

I felt his eyes travel over me, and berated myself for imagining that I saw things mirrored in them that couldn't possibly have been there in reality.

Still, though, I could tell that he liked the dress, and that made me feel pretty darn good.

"Ready to go?" He asked, and I nodded.

I turned back to say goodbye to Rory, who was standing in the living room, listening to our every word. She gave me a grin of encouragement and a thumbs-up before I shut the door and trailed after Luke.

--

Over appetizers, we talked about a couple town things, Rory, and work. I shared a couple amusing stories from the Inn, and he laughed.

Through the main course, our discussion began to go a little deeper. I learned little things about him that I was surprised I hadn't known before. It was great. He didn't talk a lot -- nothing shocking there -- but when he did, I hung on to every single word.

Of course, I didn't let him know that. I mean, I let him know I was listening, but not that I was practically memorizing every syllable that emerged from his mouth.

We were having such a great time, and he just looked so amazingly wonderful that I couldn't help but acquiesce when the waiter asked me if I'd like a refill of my wine. After all, to refuse would just be rude.

After I consumed that glass my inhibitions were freed just the tiniest bit. Enough to ask Luke what I had been trying to bring up all night. Or trying to stop myself from bringing up. I really wasn't sure which.

"So, how was your date with Alli last night?" I managed not to let any bitterness seep into my tone, and congratulated myself for sounding completely breezy. And not actually saying that I was breezy. Because everyone who watches Friends knows that totally negates the breeziness.

Luke stiffened a little. "It wasn't actually a date."

I swear I felt my ears perk up a little. "Hmm?"

"It was just sort of a catching-up-on-old-times dinner. At least, it was supposed to be. I didn't really want to go, but it would be rude to say no when I really had no reason. So I said yes."

"Did you have a good time?" Please say no! Please say no, please say-

"Not really."

I restrained myself from jumping for joy, or at least smiling. Just barely. But I did.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay; I wasn't anticipating anything more. Though she...never mind." He trailed off, looking kind of embarrassed.

"What do you mean?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, Lorelai."

"Please?" I really didn't know why I was pursuing this. But as soon as I had found out that their dinner hadn't gone well, I was suddenly overcome with the need to find out every little scrap of information possible.

He sighed. "I kind of got the feeling that she expected...more."

"More, as in a relationship more? Or more, as in, 'Let's get a room now,' more?"

"Lorelai!"

"What? It was just an innocent question."

"I don't know." He shifted in his seat, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "Why are we even talking about this?"

I ignored the question. "But you didn't want more? Of any kind."

"Lorelai..."

"Did you?"

"No. Now, can we please stop talking about it?"

"If you insist."

"I do."

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Whatever you like."

"We've already talked about a bunch of stuff that I like. What about you?"

"You're better at picking out topics."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"All right," I agreed lightly. I changed the subject, and when dessert came, I only drank water. No drunken professions of undying love from Lorelai tonight.

The rest of the date went just as well as the first part. Even if it wasn't really a date. I had needed to remind myself of that several time throughout the night because it had been going so well.

I reminded myself of it again when we were standing on the front porch after he brought me home.

"I had a great time tonight," I said, smiling up at him in what I hoped was a friendly way. As opposed to, you know, the whole "I'm completely in love with you and want to kiss you, marry you, and have your babies" kind of way.

He smiled back -- the friendly way, in case you were wondering, though there seemed to be some serious things going on in his eyes. Or maybe it was just the light. "Me too."

"So if Sookie ever blackmails me again..."

"You know who to call."

Impulsively, I leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

I didn't mean to linger. Honest. He just smelled really good.

Anyway, it was only for a couple seconds, probably only noticeable to me. I pulled away as if the action had been perfectly normal, and tried with all my might not to stare at his lips.

"'Night, Luke." I said as I opened the door.

"G'night, Lorelai."

TBC...