A/N- This chapter corresponds to the Pilot. A few notes before we begin this thing in earnest: ASP & Co. kind of repeatedly contradict themselves about how long Luke and Lorelai have actually known each other. They said eight years in Written in the Stars, but it's also made clear that Luke has known the Lorelais since Rory was at the oldest ten (and possibly younger), and since that makes it at LEAST ten years as of WBB, that's kind of an obvious contradiction. So to make it all clear as to the timeline I am following in this re-interpretation:

In November of 1990, Luke got custody of Jess. In February of 1991, Lorelai lost custody of Rory. Rachel did come back in November of 1994, as in (approximate) canon, but things didn't follow the story you know (more on that later). In January of 1995, Lorelai went to Luke's for the first time. And I think that pretty much brings us up to date for September of 2000. So essentially at this point Luke and Lorelai have known each other for a bit more than five and a half years. All clear? Great, okay.

Brace yourself for a lot of tl;dr-ness...

Episode 1x01: The Same But Different

"For I have made her prison be
Her every step away from me
And this child I would destroy
If you tried to set her free"
-Vienna Teng

"Please, Luke. Please, please, please!"

"How many cups have you had this morning?"

"None!"

"Plus?"

"...Five. But yours is better!"

"You have a problem."

"Yes I do."

With a broad and oh-so-innocent grin, Lorelai held out the coffee mug to him insistently. With a long-suffering sigh, Luke took the mug and filled it. Lorelai smirked internally in satisfaction. No matter how crazy a day she was guaranteed to have, she could always count on Luke to be the same old Luke.

"Junkie," he accused.

"Angel," she replied sweetly. "You've got wings, baby!"

She whipped off her hat and returned to the table where she had left her coat and scarf. Sitting down, she took a long, savoring sip of the coffee. She closed her eyes in enjoyment. Yes, Luke definitely had the magic touch when it came to her elixir of life.

"You make that look really good." A voice from beside her table interrupted the private moment she and the coffee were having.

Lorelai looked up at the owner of the voice, a young man who looked to be in his mid- to late-twenties, good looking enough but unmemorable. "It is really good, it's the best coffee in town," she said politely.

"Oh?" he replied flirtatiously. "I'll have to get a cup." He glanced around the diner. "I've never been here before. Just passing through on my way to Hartford."

Lorelai was more than aware that this guy was hitting on her. She supposed she was flattered but she wasn't interested, for a number of reasons. Still, turning off her usual wit and charm was too difficult to do it just to blow someone off. "Wow, you're a regular Jack Kerouac," she quipped.

"Uh... yeah," the guy said, sounding confused.

She glanced down momentarily to hide her smirk. Poor, clueless stranger.

"Hey, you mind if I sit down?" he asked. He pulled out a chair and straddled it without waiting for her reply.

"Oh, actually, I'm meeting someone. So I-"

"I'm Joey," he said, cutting right across her.

"Okay," Lorelai said in surprise, torn between being affronted and amused.

When she said nothing else, Joey leaned forward and teasingly asked, "What? You don't have a name?"

Before she could say anything in response, an arm holding a coffee pot descended into her field of vision to top off the admittedly undersized cup of coffee Luke had originally poured, and a voice said, "Man, take a hint! She's not interested."

Lorelai glanced up at the owner of the arm and the voice, and restrained a laugh. Luke's nephew, Jess Mariano, was hitting Joey with the patented diner-boy Sarcastic Eyebrow, which his uncle had invented and he had perfected. Joey met his expression with a cocky grin and glanced back to Lorelai.

"Well, what do you think, Mystery Woman? Is Coffee Boy here right? Am I getting blown off?"

She gave him a smile as consolation. "Sorry, Joey. I'm already spoken for."

He eyed her. "Sure I can't convince you otherwise?"

"As flattering as the sentiment is, yes, I'm sure."

He shrugged unapologetically, getting to his feet. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying."

"I suppose not," she said. "It was nice to meet you. Enjoy Hartford."

Joey moved back to the counter and tapped another man about his age on the shoulder, muttering something to him. The other guy finished up the process of paying Luke, and the pair of them walked out of the diner.

"What, no tip?" Jess called after them. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, before turning away to head back to the counter.

Before he could get too far, however, Lorelai's hand grabbing onto the coffee pot he was carrying stopped him. "Hey, what was that?" she asked sternly.

Jess shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, jumping in on my conversation back there. That was totally uncalled for."

"Oh please, that guy was a putz," Jess said with another eye-roll. "You were all but flipping him the bird and he wasn't getting it. Figured I'd help you out."

Lorelai gave him a toned-down version of the Mom Look, and said sternly, "I appreciate your concern, Jess, but I just want to assure you that I am in fact a big girl now. I can handle guys like that, and have successfully been doing so for easily several years longer than you've been alive."

"Jeez, you try to be nice..." he shot back, throwing up his free hand in surrender. "Alright, I get it."

He returned to the counter and put the coffee pot back on the burner. As he was headed for the cash register to ring up an impatient Mrs. Slutzky, Lorelai called out to him.

"Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the intervention," she said with a wink.

He flashed her a rare grin, then turned to deal with the grumbling septuagenarian waiting on him.

Lorelai, for her part, turned back to her coffee with a smile. Jess was a good kid. She'd known him since he was ten or so, and secretly, in her heart of hearts, she thought of him as sort of an adopted child. His mother, Luke's elusive and rarely-mentioned sister, had apparently abandoned her son when he was quite young, leaving him to the care of his uncle. She was sure he couldn't have gotten luckier than to have Luke as a surrogate father, but she felt bad for the young man, not having a mother around to do all the things mothers were supposed to do, so when she could, she tried to do little things to be a female influence in his life.

Honestly, Lorelai sometimes wondered if it was her affection for Jess that had caused her and Luke to become friends in the first place. When they had first met, the pair of them hadn't gotten along so well. It was, she knew, mostly her fault. Quite aside from the most spectacularly bad first impression in the history of bad first impressions, she had harbored kind of a crush on Luke for awhile, and in the most juvenile display of middle-school gender politics she could possibly have committed, she had called him "Duke" for a solid two years and made it her mission in life to be as annoying as possible, just to get a reaction out of the usually stone-faced diner man.

Eventually, though, she had calmed down and gotten past her attraction to him, and he had warmed up to her. Largely, she suspected, due to Jess. She had come into their lives at a pivotal point for the boy, just entering his preteen years, and although she didn't like to take credit for it ordinarily, she knew she had been helpful to Luke. He had done his best to be a good parent, essentially building his life to revolve exclusively around his nephew and the diner in fairly equal shares (though she knew that if a choice had to be made, Jess would always come first). However, it didn't exactly leave him much time for socializing. Luke was a reticent and solitary man by nature, and the complications that came with raising a child had isolated him still further. He had only a handful of friends, and most of them lived out of town. As a result of sheer proximity and her obvious affection for Jess, Lorelai had become something of a confidante for Luke. She was able to offer him perspective when he was furious with his nephew for whatever reason, or give him advice and alternatives when he found himself stumped on how to handle a disciplinary issue.

In a way, Lorelai supposed she had taken to mothering Jess (as much as the teenager would allow, anyway) as a way to make up for her own limited time with her daughter. She still went to Hartford every other Tuesday to spend a little time with her, but it wasn't anywhere near enough. And the fact that the usual month in Stars Hollow over the summer had been forgone in favor of the Gilmores taking their granddaughter to "experience Europe the right way" had cut down even more on what little mother/daughter bonding Lorelai was allowed with Rory.

No, not Rory. It was Lorelai now. The Rory nickname had been abandoned by almost everyone years ago. Calling her Rory now was mostly just to avoid confusion when her mother happened to be present. Just like parachute pants, the nickname was out of style.

"Independence Inn, Michel speaking... No, I'm sorry, we're completely booked. We have a wedding party here. No, there is really nothing I can do... Yes, I'm sure!"

Lorelai tuned out the perpetual accented droning of her "charming" concierge, in favor of intervening in the disaster-in-the-making that was Drella, her hired harpist. After a conversation that was disproportionately exasperating for as brief as it was, she thought- though she wasn't entirely sure- that she had successfully averted a harp-related homicide. Or at least had prevented Drella's head from exploding.

Turning away from the still-complaining musician, Lorelai caught sight of a man leaning against the front desk, eyes on her. He was of average height, with light auburn hair and slyly twinkling gray eyes, well-dressed in a tidy charcoal suit with a tie that screamed "brightly colored yet casually understated." When those mischievous eyes landed on her, an eager smile lit up his handsome face.

"Hey, Lorie," he said.

As usual, she found her lips turn up irresistibly in response to his vibrant grin. "Kenneth!" she greeted, feeling discombobulated by the sight of her... whatever. "What are you doing here?"

Kenneth's grin widened. "As a matter of fact, I came to extend an invitation."

"Ooh, intriguing. Go on," she flirted.

"My office is sending me to New York for a week to negotiate a new contract for one of our biggest clients," he informed her.

Lorelai raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, aren't we just Mister Daddy-Warbucks-in-the-making?"

Kenneth chuckled. "Yes, well. The thing about a week in New York is that I'm also going to have a weekend in New York. A big, long, lonely weekend, alone in a city that never sleeps... a city that would be much more fun to experience with a beautiful woman by my side."

"Are you inviting me to spend the weekend in New York with you?"

"I suppose it could be interpreted like that, yes."

Lorelai circled around to her usual side of the desk as a delaying tactic, and busied herself with sorting the stack of mail that Michel had abandoned. "I dunno, Kenneth," she said musingly, avoiding his eyes.

Her handsome gentleman caller let out a good-natured sigh. "Come on, Lorie, I know you don't have to work this weekend. You told me you didn't. I figured that was an open invitation to see more of you. Wasn't it?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Aren't we just the non-committal queen today?" he gently chastised. "We've been seeing each other for... what is it, two or three months now? Don't you think it's time to take our relationship to the next level?"

At that, Lorelai did look up, and looked him right in the eye. "Relationship?" she asked, a note of reprimand and a note of fear blending equally in her suddenly defensive tone. "Kenneth, this?" She gestured between the two of them. "This is not a relationship. I told you that from the beginning: I'm not looking for commitment."

"Commitment?" Kenneth scoffed. "Who said anything about commitment? Is it so wrong to want to call the woman I've been seeing for months my girlfriend?"

"Yes, when she's not your girlfriend!" Lorelai shot back. "Can we not do this here? I'd rather not make a scene in front of guests."

"Fine, where would you rather do this?"

Lorelai grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the currently-empty dining room. "Here is just fine," she said, pulling the door closed behind her. She crossed her arms, and Kenneth mirrored her defensive stance.

"What the hell, Lorelai?" he bit out, using her full name for the first time in weeks.

She shook her head. "I've been up front with you from the beginning, Ken. No strings attached. I like you. I like spending time with you. We have fun. But you've gotta understand, I'm a "for now" girl, see?"

"No, I don't see! Lorie, you're amazing. You're smart and funny and vibrant and more than a little insane and I really think you and I could be great together if you could just get past whatever it is that's holding you back. I'm not saying we're going ring-shopping tomorrow or ever, but you said it yourself. I like you. I like spending time with you. Why can't we just keep doing that, and call it something else? Nothing changes, not until you're ready for that."

Lorelai sighed, feeling that unpleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach again. She hated breakups. Even not-really-breakups like this one. It was always uncomfortable and left her with a headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. "No, Kenneth, that's not who I am. Once upon a time, maybe I was relationship-girl, but I'm just not built for that, and I refuse to apologize for being what I am. I've been honest about this. I'm sorry that it hurts you, but I can't just change who I am for you."

He looked at her with intent eyes, studying her for a long moment and trying to break her down through sheer force of eye contact. Lorelai would almost have laughed in another situation. Trying to stare down the daughter of Emily Gilmore was a futile hope. She had to hand it to him, he kept up the attempt much longer than most would have.

Finally, he sighed. "I guess I probably don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me, right?" he asked rhetorically.

"Probably not," she agreed. "I really am sorry to hurt you."

Kenneth leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Goodbye, Lorelai Gilmore," he said with a sweet half portion of his usual brilliant grin.

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Unfortunately not."

"Good God, this town comes up with some weird shit but... a teen hayride? Really?"

In Stars Hollow, where everyone knew and was friends with everyone else, Jess Mariano saw himself as a sort of bridge between Luke and the rest of the town: one foot keeping company with his uncle on Loner Mountain, and the other firmly in the crazy zany world of town festivals and an excess of community spirit. It was a balance he liked, but it didn't win him too many admirers. Then again, Jess had no desire to have a plethora of friends. He, like his uncle, preferred to have a small number of very close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances. He had his little group of like-minded guys he hung out with, and that was good enough for him.

And then... then there was Lane Kim. If someone were to put a gun to Jess's head and demand that he identify his best friend, it would be Lane he named. That didn't quite sum it up, though. There wasn't really a word for what the two of them were to each other. They had met in the second grade. He was the shy boy with no mother, and she was the bouncy girl with a bit too much of one. Their friendship was probably inevitable.

Everyone at Stars Hollow High thought Lane and Jess had to be an item, but both of them knew it wasn't like that. They had bonded to each other, becoming each other's surrogate sibling, which neither had by blood.

Mrs. Kim did not particularly approve of their friendship, especially considering Jess's gender. However, by some luck the stars had aligned in their favor. Jess was without parents, and therefore the sort of person towards whom Pastor Cho preached tolerance, charity, and understanding. Jess was a blood relative of Luke Danes, possibly the only man Mrs. Kim had any respect or tolerance for.

Perhaps most influential, however, had been the timely intervention of Lorelai the very first day Mrs. Kim discovered that the friend Lane had only previously referred to by an admittedly feminine name was actually a boy. The hysterical mother had hauled her eleven-year-old daughter into Luke's to demand that he keep his filthy nephew away from her innocent child. Lorelai, who like most of Stars Hollow was all too aware of Mrs. Kim's unique parenting style, had stepped in. She insisted that she would personally vouch for Jess's suitability as a friend for Lane, and suggested in a soothing tone that perhaps Mrs. Kim should simply think of Jess as a girl rather than a boy.

And so, with reluctant acceptance from the Kims, Lane and Jess had been allowed to maintain their close friendship (though for the sake of Mrs. Kim's sanity, Jess made sure to keep a low profile). Hence this delightful mocking opportunity Jess had been presented with.

"Can't you get out of it?" he asked.

Lane shook her head sadly, her curtain of beautiful ebony hair swinging around her face. "I'm going with the son of one of my parents' business associates. He's gonna be a doctor," she said, layering every syllable of her last sentence with as much snark as she could possibly cram in there.

"Jeez, and how old is he?"

"Sixteen."

"So he's gonna be a doctor by the time we're, what, thirty-something?"

Lane shrugged. "You know the Kims."

"Planning ahead is the name of the game," Jess agreed sagely. "Still... a hayride? Really? Shouldn't they really save that kind of thing for Illinois? At least in the Midwest, it's kind of charming."

A deep male voice commented, "Actually, we wouldn't stoop that low even in Illinois."

Jess and Lane turned simultaneously to see the owner of the voice, a tall boy neither recognized. "Hey," Lane said. "Not placing your face. Are you new?"

He nodded, a friendly grin on his face. "Just moved here from Chicago."

"Hence the Illinois comment," Lane observed.

"Yeah. Uh, my name's Dean Forrester."

"I'm Lane Kim," she introduced herself politely. After an extended length of silence during which both of them looked to Jess, Lane rolled her eyes. "And my shy and reserved friend here is Jess Mariano. Apparently he's decided this is a great time to practice his Marcel Marceau impression."

Jess glared at her and shoved her shoulder gently. "Shut up." Turning back to Dean he said, "Hey, man. Welcome to Stars Hollow."

Dean nodded his acknowledgement. "I was wondering if you guys could point me in the direction of the central office. I'm supposed to meet with the principal and stuff, but this school-"

"-Is the most architecturally stupid building on the East Coast?" Jess supplied with a quirked eyebrow.

"Just go through the front doors over there, take two rights, go down the long hallway, take a left at the big red-painted doorway, then an immediate right, and the office is your first door on the left," Lane instructed helpfully.

Dean laughed. "No wonder I've been wandering around lost for twenty minutes. Thanks."

"No problem," Lane said.

Dean walked away, and Lane turned back to Jess with a gently reproachful look on her face. "You know, you should really get over these antisocial tendencies of yours," she said.

Jess shrugged. "What can I say? I didn't really have much interest in talking to that guy."

"Why not?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Hi, do you know me at all?"

"I'll take that for a yes."

Lane grinned. "I gotta run. Jenna Masters borrowed my notes yesterday, I gotta get 'em back before bio. See you at lunch?"

"Sure thing."

A loud crash drew Lorelai instinctively to the kitchen. "Sookie!" she cried in panic.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" her diminutive friend called from her spot on the floor.

"What did you do now?" Lorelai asked. She rushed to Sookie's side and knelt down next to her. "Why weren't you watching her?" she asked Salvador, Sookie's garcon de cuisine. "No estabas cuidandola?"

Salvador looked at her in exasperation and, with a wild gesture in Sookie's direction, said, "No, she's this! Bad food in the head!" With another disgusted look at his boss and his supervisor, he got to his feet and set about cleaning up the mess of dropped pots and caramelized sugar Sookie had made on the floor around her.

"I need you to be more careful!" Lorelai implored.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sookie said dismissively. "Hey, I fixed the peach sauce!"

Catching sight of her friend's waving hand, Lorelai said, "That's blood. You're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"

"My stitches opened," Sookie explained, barely paying attention, so intent was she on explaining her latest culinary feat. "I was using too much maple syrup. It strangled the fruit!"

"When did you get stitches?" Lorelai demanded.

"Friday night. Radish roses."

"Okay, stop moving," Lorelai said, trying unsuccessfully to prevent Sookie from reaching up precariously to grab the sauce pan from the burner over her head.

"You gotta taste this sauce! You gotta try it while it's still warm," Sookie said reverently while Lorelai took the heavy pan from her before she could do herself further injury.

"Okay. Oh Sweetie, I need you to be more careful, I need there to be fewer accidents-"

"Yeah yeah yeah," Sookie interrupted, thrusting a spoon into Lorelai's open mouth.

A second of rare silence fell as Lorelai swallowed. "Oh dear god almighty... that's incredible!"

"I wanna put it on the waffles tomorrow morning for breakfast," Sookie said eagerly.

"I wanna take a bath in that sauce! Someday," Lorelai said with the fresh-faced delight of a child with an idea, "when we open our own inn, diabetics will line up to eat this sauce. But the key to someday achieving that dream is for you to stay alive long enough so we can actually open an inn." She placed the pan of warm sauce back on the stove top. "You understand?"

Sookie smiled tolerantly. "I understand."

"Alright, now let's get you up and to the doctor on three, okay?" Sookie took her proffered hand. "One, two three."

"Ow!"

"What?"

"Stepped on my thumb."

They had to drive out to Woodbridge in order to get Sookie's stitches repaired. The Stars Hollow medical clinic, already barely equipped to treat anything more major than the stomach flu, was closed on Wednesdays.

Sookie settled into the passenger seat of Lorelai's Jeep with a pleasant smile on her face. No one would ever guess that she had just had nine stitches on two fingers replaced just fifteen minutes earlier... but that was Sookie. You could get her down, but it never lasted long.

"So..." she said as they turned onto the highway back from Woodbridge. "Tell me. Who was Not-Tall, Not-Dark, and Very Handsome I saw you kissing in the dining room earlier?"

Lorelai's spine stiffened automatically. She'd had this conversation before. "No one."

Sookie grinned. "Was it Dreamy Kenneth?" she asked, the beginnings of a squeal already detectible in her voice.

"Yes, that was Kenneth."

"Aw, he's coming by the Inn now?"

Lorelai shrugged. "He did come by the Inn. He probably won't anymore."

Sookie's face fell. "Oh no," she said.

"Oh no what?"

"You always do this, Lorelai!"

"Do what?"

"You meet a guy- usually a pretty great guy, from what I've seen- and you date him for a few months, you seem to really like him, and then suddenly he's gone, just like that, and you never mention his name again," Sookie complained.

Lorelai shrugged. "It was time for us to part ways," she dismissed.

"What was so wrong with Kenneth? He was gorgeous, based on what I saw, and by your reports he was funny, interesting, he's got a great job, and the sex was fantastic... what more could you possibly want?"

"Absolutely nothing," Lorelai said. "It's what he wanted that was the problem."

Sookie looked askance at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he invited me to go away with him for a weekend."

"To where?"

"New York."

Sookie's face lit up. "Ooh, how romantic!"

Lorelai sighed and turned her eyes back to the road. "Yeah, romantic. I don't want romantic, Sookie. I'm not interested in making a commitment to some guy I met in a bar, okay?"

"Lorelai, he isn't "some guy you met in a bar." I mean, he is, but he's a lot more than that, right? I mean, you've been dating for months."

She shrugged. "True, but it was never serious. I liked Kenneth. We had fun. That's all it was."

Sookie looked thoughtful as she examined Lorelai for a moment. "Is this... is this still about Christopher?"

"No!"

Lorelai had answered a little too quickly and a little too defensively, because Sookie clucked her tongue sympathetically and shook her head. "Sweetie, I thought you were over this. If all these nothing-relationships are about you getting some while you wait for Christopher-"

"Hey! That was uncalled for!"

Sookie was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. But I just need to say this. If that's really not what this is about, then just ignore everything I'm about to say. But if it is, then I think it's really unfair to these guys... and it's really unhealthy for you. Maybe this is something you should talk to Chanda about."

They pulled to a halt at a stop sign coming into Stars Hollow. "Sookie," Lorelai said forcefully, taking advantage of the stopped vehicle to look her friend full in the eye. "Thank you for your concern. But frankly, this is not your business. I appreciate you worrying about me, but I will handle my own love life in the way I see fit."

"Okay," Sookie said, nodding meekly.

"For those of you who have not finished the final chapters of Huckleberry Finn you may use this time to do so. For those of you who have, you can start on your essay now. Whichever task you choose, do it silently."

Jess had long ago tuned out the sound of his teacher's voice, and was currently working on ignoring the frankly disgusting bubblegum-and-pentyl ethanoate wafting from the quartet of girls that sat a few seats ahead of him, painting their nails instead of doing anything even remotely constructive. The inanity of his peers never failed to astound him.

"Mr. Mariano? Mr. Mariano!"

The teacher's voice finally cut through his fixed determination to ignore his surroundings. "Yes, Ms. Traister?" he asked, glancing over the top of his copy of Les Miserables.

"While your dedication to great literature is admirable, Mr. Mariano, this time is set aside either for completing the novel- which I think it is safe to assume you have already done- or completing your essay. I assure you that Victor Hugo will still be every bit as compelling once you have completed your assignment."

"Isn't the assignment due tomorrow?" Jess asked.

"Indeed it is."

"Then, can't I just hand it in tomorrow?"

"That is how the system tends to work, yes," Ms. Traister snarked. "However, it would be in your best interests to begin work on it as quickly as possible so that you don't have to rush."

Jess restrained an eye-roll with maximum effort, then with an air of long-suffering patience, marked his page in the book and reached down into the backpack that rested against the back of his chair. He pulled out five typed pages, got to his feet, strode to the front of the class, and handed it to Ms. Traister. "My essay," he said simply. "It's just a rough draft, but if you'd care to look it over, feel free."

He walked back to his seat and picked up his book once more. Before he opened it, however, he thought again and called out, "Oh, and Ms. Traister? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the only one not "on-task" here. I'm sure Carrie Bradshaw and her pals there can tell you what I mean." He nodded significantly in the direction of the four girls who were painting their nails, all of whom immediately turned to glare at him. "Oh, and if I were you, I wouldn't work out your bitterness about the divorce by picking on all men. We don't all suck, and we definitely don't appreciate paying the price for the ones who do."

Ms. Traister stared at him for a long hard moment, her pursed lips turning white with repressed anger, before saying in an extremely calm voice, "If that's all, Mr. Mariano, I'm going to ask you to leave."

"Wow, you actually called her out on the man-hating thing?" Lane asked. "I think I worship you."

Jess shrugged. "Every single guy in school has been hurting in the GPA since her husband left her. Everybody knows it, but nobody's had the balls to say it."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Jess Mariano." Lane pulled her backpack up a little more securely on her shoulder. "So, how much trouble do you think you'll be in?"

"Eh, probably not much. She knows I'm right. Frankly, as pissed as she was, I kinda think she'll appreciate someone pointing it out."

"What on earth would make you think that?"

Jess waved a hand in an almost dismissive gesture. "Ms. Traister's a good person, basically, and a good teacher. She honestly thought she's being fair and just the same as normal. She's been a pure bitch to everyone with a Y-chromosome for months, but I don't think she really realized why. She has no idea she's been deliberately singling out guys and grading them down. People get inside their heads sometimes and don't realize what's motivating their actions. If I get detention, fine. Whatever. I get detention, she gets a little perspective on her issues. I think she'll be better now."

"Well look at you, Master of Puppets," Lane quipped, looking at him in wonder. It never ceased to amaze her how perceptive and intuitive Jess could be. She wasn't sure where that insight came from. Some might have said it was just an introvert thing, but Lane wasn't exactly Miss Extroversion herself, and she couldn't honestly say she ever had much of that pure ability to read people that Jess possessed. Or the moxie to take such extreme actions based on it.

He rolled his eyes, but she could see the smirk tugging up the corner of his lips; if she knew him at all, it was brought on in equal measure by her compliment and by her subtle reference to his favorite band.

Jess stopped abruptly at the fence surrounding the Kim household.

"Aren't you coming in?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I was over yesterday and the day before. Three days in a row and your mother's head might explode."

"You make an excellent point."

"Besides, Luke has a bank meeting. He needs me covering at the diner this afternoon."

Lane nodded. "Okay. Enjoy your minimum wage," she said.

"Have fun at the hayride," he shot back, smirking.

"Die!"

Chilton Preparatory was an extremely prestigious school, and it knew it. At least, if the massive wrought-iron fences, elaborately-detailed stonework, and giant gargoyles were anything to go by. It was a school for two kinds of students: geniuses, and the children of the extremely wealthy. Preferably both at once. Lorelai Gilmore had once been such a student, though she had been at Graten, not Chilton. Now, she supposed, the honor fell to another Lorelai.

She knew that sitting there outside the school gates in her Jeep was borderline pathetic, but she couldn't help it.

Distantly, she heard the final bell of the day chime inside the building, and her fingers clenched on the steering wheel in anticipation. A minute passed, then two. Finally, students began streaming out the archway that lead into the school's interior courtyard, but Lorelai barely noticed them, even when the forerunners came whizzing down the drive past her in their cars that cost almost as much as her whole house. Her eyes were glued to the archway, waiting.

At last, she saw her. That other Lorelai Gilmore. The Lorelai with her father's high forehead, and her mother's blue-blue eyes, and her grandfather's head for numbers. She was in her plaid skirt and her saddle shoes and that stupid blue Chilton blazer, with what appeared to be a Gucci leather backpack slung over her shoulder. She'd gotten a haircut since Lorelai had last seen her over a week prior. Lorelai smiled. They had talked about this haircut. Her daughter had shown her a picture in a magazine. Instead of the long curtain of straight brown hair that fell almost to her waist that she had worn her entire life, Lorelai the Third had cropped her hair up almost to her shoulders and now wore it in soft curls. Combined with the new bangs that concealed her father's forehead, and the three inches she had shot up over the past year, it was almost like looking at herself at that age.

She was walking in the company of a tall, blonde boy who was carrying the books that wouldn't fit in that tiny, expensive backpack. He said something- Lorelai wished she could lipread- and Rory threw back her head and laughed, bumping him with her hip in a gesture that looked so easy and familiar, Lorelai wanted to cry. Once upon a time, they had been that easy.

Lorelai shook her head. This wasn't doing her any good. She started the engine of her Jeep and backed away from the gates as surreptitiously as she could.

Jess was in the middle of sweeping the storeroom when Luke pushed through the door, watching him with crossed arms. He determinedly ignored his uncle's gaze, even though he'd turned on that super-focused stare that Jess could feel on him even with his back turned. Once he decided an acceptable length of time had passed, he straightened up and asked, "Is there any chance you're gonna spit it out anytime soon?"

Luke sighed. "I got an interesting call from Ms. Traister today."

"Look, whatever she said, it's probably true and I probably deserve it, so can we just get to the part where I'm grounded?"

"She wanted to thank you for being honest with her today."

That brought Jess up short. "What?"

"She said it's a rare talent, being able to read people like that and more importantly knowing how to profoundly influence them with few words."

Jess shrugged. "I'm just blunt," he said honestly. "Gee, Uncle Luke, wonder where I got that from?"

"Shut it," Luke said fondly. "Anyway, she just called to thank you and tell you you'll be serving an hour's detention tomorrow after school. And yes, you are grounded."

"How long?"

"A week."

"Whatever happened to the punishment fitting the crime? Doesn't that seem a tad excessive for something that got me complimented?"

"So did that crap you pulled with the ducks at the Inn when you were twelve."

"Ah, but a compliment from a respected educator is a little different than a compliment from the Banyan brothers."

"That's true."

"How does three days sound?"

"Six."

"Four."

"Five."

"Four, plus my detention."

"Fine, you win."

Jess grinned. "Nice doing business with you. Now go do the entrepreneur thing, I've got this place covered."

"I went to see Rory today."

"On a Wednesday?"

"It wasn't a visit or anything. I just drove to Chilton and... saw her. It made me feel like a stalker."

"She's your daughter. I think you have every right to want to see your daughter."

"You think so?"

"I know so. It's a maternal right to love our children and miss them when they're not there."

Lorelai mused on that for a minute. It was something she had been feeling, but hadn't quite been able to put into words. That opportunity to have her own (occasionally chaotic) thoughts told back to her in words that were sometimes easier than her own, more than anything else, was why she had first agreed to come to these sessions when Sookie had suggested it a few years earlier. At first, she had scoffed when her friend had insisted that there was no shame in needing some counseling. However, when Sookie had confided that she had received therapy for several years during her high school and college years to learn to manage her chronic stress and panic attacks, Lorelai began to wonder if it might actually help her to speak to someone.

And that, in a nutshell, lead to Chanda.

Dr. Chanda Fleming, family counselor and social psychologist, had rapidly grown to be one of Lorelai's favorite people on the planet. Her preconceived image of a Freud-inspired stodge with an office like her father's and a squeaky leather couch who offered her Rorschach tests instead of answers had quickly been swept away by Chanda's green-painted space, open expressions, and judgment-free attitude. For going on two years she had visited Chanda's office in downtown Hartford once a week.

She was a sweet-faced woman in her mid- to late-forties, with gently curling blonde hair and bright green-hazel eyes. Lorelai had never seen her dressed in anything but long flowing skirts and loose-necked peasant tops, always colorful but subduedly so. There was something faintly gypsyish in her attire and in her manner, and yet Lorelai was sure she had never met a more rock-solid individual in her life, except perhaps Luke.

"Tell me about seeing Rory today," Chanda commanded gently.

Lorelai shifted in her seat, curling her legs up underneath her as she leaned a little more on the armrest of the lounge chair she occupied. "It was... strange. Sometimes when I see her, it's like looking at myself. The way she looks, the way she talks, even the way she moves is like looking at my sixteen-year-old self. Except I obviously had a huge pregnancy belly when I was her age, but that's a whole other discussion..." She shook away the thought, grateful that her daughter didn't seem to be following her footsteps. "Most of the time, though, I don't even know who she is anymore."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I know why that is," Lorelai said heatedly. "It's because I see her an hour or two every couple of weeks... what's that? That's nothing. When she was a baby, when it was just the two of us, I got to see everything. I knew if she woke up cranky, and if she had a new favorite color suddenly, and what she ate for breakfast, and I got to hear all the little details of her day. I was there for the little things."

"And now?"

"Now I get a vague overview of the big things, and that's about it. She'll tell me when she's been selected as a new reporter for her school paper, or if she's going to Europe so "sorry, Mom, I'm not gonna be able to come to Stars Hollow this summer" two years in a row, but I miss all the little things. I miss the best pieces of being a mom."

Chanda crossed her ankles and looked at Lorelai thoughtfully. "I suppose that doesn't feel very good, does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Time for the cliché question," Chanda said with a knowing grin. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"How does it feel?"

Lorelai chuckled softly. "It feels... well, honestly, it feels really shitty."

"Why?"

Lorelai shrugged. "I don't know."

Chanda gave her that no-nonsense, vaguely maternal look that Lorelai had become familiar with over the years. "I think you do know. You tend to do this when something hurts, Lorelai. You lock it away and pretend it doesn't exist so that you can keep up this facade of being invincible, but you and I both know there's a lot more going on in there than you're willing to admit to."

"Yeah," Lorelai said quietly. "Fake Wonder Woman, that's me."

"It's not fake, Lorelai. You are a strong woman. You haven't yet learned how to be strong without all these defenses and walls you build. That's nothing to be ashamed of; everyone has defenses. Now, I want you to tell me why not seeing your daughter every day feels shitty."

"Because..."

Lorelai struggled with herself for a long moment. Chanda waited patiently, saying nothing, just watching her quietly.

"Because I didn't do anything wrong! I did all the things you're supposed to. I got a good job, I found a safe place for my daughter to grow up, I made sure she always knew she was loved and gave her everything I possibly could. I didn't do anything wrong, but they still took her away from me."

"And you think that's unfair."

"Damn right I think it's unfair! I was- I could've been- a good mother!"

"Do you think you could have provided for your daughter better than your parents have?"

Lorelai's eyes dropped to her folded hands. It was a question they kept coming back to, and when it came up, that tended to be where she drew the line and declared the session over. Today, though, was different. Today, she had an answer. Today was special.

"I think so," she said quietly. "I... honestly, I haven't really been sure. I've asked myself that same question every day since they took her away. When I left my parents' house, I was so sure it was what was right, but when they declared me unfit to raise Rory and gave custody to Richard and Emily, I guess that just... that shook my foundation. It derailed everything I had ever believed about myself and my parents."

"Why?"

"Because from the minute I knew I was pregnant, I knew I would be a better mother than my own mother. I would make sure my daughter always knew I loved her, and not just that, that I cared about her. Not the daughter I wanted to have, but the daughter I actually had. My parents... they're not bad people, but that's not something they've ever understood. But suddenly here was this court, this blind justice declaring that it would be better for Rory if she was taken away from her mother, who loved her unconditionally."

"So you're telling me that you believe that you could have given Rory a better life, not in material things, but in affection and self-security?"

Lorelai nodded firmly. "Yes. I would have been better for her."

Chanda tapped one green-painted fingernail against her lips, studying Lorelai. "Tell me, Lorelai: I've been asking you that question for months, and you haven't been answering me. What makes today different?"

Lorelai smiled. "I told you last week that I appealed the custody decision again a few months ago, right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I'm supposed to be hearing back from the people from the district court office any day now."

"So it's optimism that you're about to get your heart's desire that's brought this on?"

Lorelai shook her head. "No, it's just that speaking to the judge and going through all the old court documents has given me... perspective, I guess is what you'd call it?"

Chanda smiled warmly at her. "Well then, I'm happy to hear that. Let me know once you find out, won't you?"

"Of course."

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about today? Anything else that's happened in your life lately?"

Lorelai briefly debated bringing up Kenneth and their split. Chanda had hinted that she wanted to understand Lorelai's serial dating habit, but Lorelai had been avoiding the issue for several months. Someday she would be ready to touch that, but for now she was perfectly happy with the way things were. She wasn't ready to take her head out of the sand, so to speak.

"Nope, nothing at all," Lorelai said. "But I do have to run a little early today, so that's probably a good thing."

Chanda nodded, rising from her seat. "Well then, I suppose that's our session for today. I'll see you at the same time next week."

The Park brothers were quite possibly the most boring human beings on the face of the planet. Admittedly, Michael Park, the future proctologist whose bachelorhood and eligibility was the purpose of this entire exercise, might just have been as shy and uncomfortable as Lane was about being set up by his parents, but at this point she didn't particularly care. She was tired, she was cold, she had a bundle of sticks shoved up her butt, and she hadn't eaten anything but organic wheat germ muffins and a few bites of questionable cafeteria turkey since yesterday afternoon.

As the world's most awkwardly silent hayride made the turn past Miss Patty's studio, Lane's ears picked up the call of the mourning dove. It was a childhood code that had, over the course of long years of use, become an intrinsic part of her identity. She was instantly on the alert.

The hayride passed under the ancient, twisted oak tree that flanked the northeast corner of Miss Patty's, and as it did so a knotted rope dropped from its branches to swing past her shoulder. Without hesitation, Lane grabbed the rope and leapt from the back of the wagon, bracing her feet against one of the strategically-placed knots.

"Lane?" Michael called, getting to his feet despite the precarious lurching of the hayride.

She almost laughed at the incredulous look on his face. "Sorry, Michael!" she called to his slowly receding figure. "You're a really nice guy, but something's... come up."

The twin stares of the Park brothers were the last thing she saw as she began her expert ascent up the rope that had been so thoughtfully provided for her, struggling to contain her giggles of simultaneous mortification and delight. She silently apologized to Miss Driscoll for complaining about all those rope-climbing sessions she had endured during P.E., because it was certainly coming in handy now. Once she reached the thick knotted mass that comprised the lower branches, an olive-skinned hand descended to haul her up.

Attempting to steady herself on a branch, Lane choked out, "You are insane!" before dissolving into hysterical giggles.

"Yeah, but it's why you love me," Jess said with a smirk.

Lane just shook her head, still laughing.

"You looked like your little party down there could use a little livening up," he said as she began to control herself.

"You should have seen the looks on their faces!" she spat out through another fit of laughter that burst through her pathetic attempt at self-control.

Jess rubbed a hand across his mouth, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was fighting a case of the giggles himself. "I actually had a pretty good view from up here. I thought the older brother was gonna drop dead of heart failure right there."

"He still might," Lane replied. "The Parks aren't known for their strong constitutions." Suddenly sobering, she said, "Mama's gonna kill me, you know."

"But won't it be worth it?" Jess teased. "She already hates me; you can just blame my terrible influence if you need a scapegoat."

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to you. But... aren't you technically grounded right now?"

Jess shrugged. "Yeah, but Luke won't be back from his bank thing for at least another twenty minutes. I figured that was enough time to rescue you... and bring you pizza." He reached behind him and presented her with a flat square box that Lane had previously not noticed.

Reverently she took the box from his hands, flipped back the lid, and examined his offering. She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Stuffed crust?" she asked in quiet awe.

Jess favored her with a tiny smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

"You, Jess Mariano, are my hero."

Sookie had thought she was the last one of the day staff left at the Independence. When she emerged from the kitchen, however, she found Lorelai sitting frozen in one of the wingback chairs in the lobby, her cell phone clutched tightly in one hand, the fingers of the other tapping energetically on her right thigh. Other than the rapid movement of those four digits, she was absolutely still, more motionless than Sookie had ever seen her.

"Sweetie?" she asked, concerned.

The Gilmore girl didn't respond.

"Lorelai?" Sookie questioned, feeling panicked. "Is everything okay?"

Slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, Lorelai turned her head to look at Sookie. "Yeah," she said dazedly. "Everything's okay. Amazing, even." The broadest smile in the history of broad smiles exploded in slow motion across her face. It was like a sunflower turning ever so gradually to the sun, as Lorelai bloomed from the winter rose Sookie had known for more than a decade into something else, something joyous and alive and sparkling with summertime.

"That was... that was the woman from the judge's office," she said simply, holding up the phone.

At first, Sookie didn't understand. Then the penny dropped. "You mean...?"

"YES!" Lorelai squealed, launching to her feet and throwing herself at her dear friend in a fierce, jumping, squealing hug of the kind that only true best friends can manage. "My appeal was accepted! Rory's coming to live in Stars Hollow!"

Sookie squeezed her friend back with all her might, celebrating right along with her and with every bit as much enthusiasm. "Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you! This is so, so great! I'm... I... I just..." She stepped back, fanning at her eyes in an attempt to stop the tears gathering there from falling. "You just deserve this so damn much. You've worked so hard to get yourself to a place where you can make a great home for her, and it's all so... Oh I'm so happy!"

Lorelai laughed and enveloped Sookie in another bone-crushing hug, not caring at all that Sookie was weeping all over her silk blouse. "Thank you, Sook," she said softly. "I couldn't have done it without you."

At that, Sookie cried harder, and wrenched herself out of Lorelai's embrace. "Oh, none of that now!" she exclaimed, wiping at her eyes. "You're gonna make me bawl like a baby!" When Lorelai opened her mouth to point out the obvious, Sookie let out a tear-strangled giggle and pointed a warning finger at her. "Don't say a word!"

"Am I allowed to say that I am so sorry for snapping at you earlier?"

"I totally understand. You were under a lot of stress from this appeal thing hanging over your head."

"There's still no excuse for being rude to you. That's not okay."

Sookie waved a hand dismissively, a sure sign that it was forgotten. "Don't worry about it. All is forgiven." She clapped her hands together. "Okay, this calls for celebration. Luke's?"

"Luke's!"

"To Luke's it is!"

"To Luke's!"

"I'm just so happy for you," Sookie gushed for what was easily the twentieth time since Lorelai had broken the news to her. They were seated at their usual table by the window at Luke's, waiting for the titular proprietor to finish serving Andrew and his son, who were sitting at one of the tables past the left end of the counter.

Just as Luke turned away from his other customers, the bells over the door chimed a merry announcement of the presence of his nephew.

"And where've you been?" Luke demanded.

"Around," Jess said nonchalantly, every hair on his head declaring that he was just being difficult to drive his uncle up the wall. It was a habit he'd learned from Lorelai.

Luke responded by smacking Jess gently upside the head with his order pad.

"Alright, you. You're officially on dish duty for a week."

"Gee, Uncle Luke, what about the baby-soft skin on my hands?"

"Don't be a smartass."

Jess grinned at his uncle to let him know he was only teasing, and retreated behind the counter.

After shooting his nephew a frustrated glare that lacked any real venom behind it, Luke proceeded over to where Lorelai and Sookie were sitting, grinning at each other like twin Cheshire Cats. Lorelai looked up and unexpectedly found herself stunned right out of her euphoric good mood and into fumbling silence.

Luke was still dressed from the meeting he had returned from not fifteen minutes earlier, in a blue button-down shirt and nice slacks, bare-headed for once. Lorelai couldn't help but notice that his eyes were blue. Had she ever noticed that before? They weren't Gilmore blue, they were more subtle than that. You could look at him from a distance for years but if you got close enough, suddenly, wham! She supposed she'd known his eyes were blue, but something about the dim late-evening lighting of the diner and the color of his shirt were making them pop in a way she'd never seen before. Combined with his clean-shaven cheeks, his admittedly killer eyelashes and the fact that she was pretty sure this was the first time she'd seen him sans baseball cap...

She was staring. She was ogling. She was ogling... Luke.

OH MY GOD, GILMORE, SAY SOMETHING!

"Wow," she managed to stutter out. "You look nice. R-really... nice."

"I, uh, had a meeting at the bank earlier. They... like collars," he said, pulling absentmindedly at the aforementioned collar. With a shy smile, he offered, "You look nice, too."

Lorelai wasn't entirely sure in the dim lighting, but she was pretty sure Luke Danes was blushing. She felt herself turning a little pink as well and glanced down, both to hide her flushing face and to confirm what she was wearing- her pretty royal blue blouse and the gray flippy skirt. She made a note to wear this particular outfit more often, and decided to chalk it up to female vanity.

"Thanks," she murmured. Once she was sure she could make eye contact again without the color of her cheeks revealing how much his compliment had flattered her, she looked back up at him.

"So what'll you have?" he asked, still smiling just a little.

"Coffee. In a vat," she replied, smiling innocently in response to his dark look.

"Ooh, and celebration pie!" Sookie chimed in.

Luke looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What are you celebrating?"

Sookie was still unable to contain her ear-to-ear grin. "Lorelai's just been given custody of Rory!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating in her seat.

Immediately, Luke's face broke out into the widest smile Lorelai had ever seen him wear as he looked back to her. "Wow, really? That's... that's great. That's amazing! Congratulations, Lorelai. You- you must be over the moon!"

She nodded, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the characteristically gruff man's obvious outpouring of happiness.

"Tell you what," he said, "Tonight, order anything you want. On the house."

Finding her voice, she said, "Thanks, Luke."

"I'll get your coffee while you decide on pie," he said with a knowing look. He headed back behind the counter. Lorelai watched him go.

Turning back to Sookie, she whispered in an awed tone, "Behold the healing powers of a bath!"

"Never mind that," Sookie squealed, for once too excited to pounce on any Luke-related comments Lorelai made. "When's Rory moving in? Is she gonna change schools? Have you talked to her, yet?"

"Whoa, whoa, Sookie! Hold your horses...!" Lorelai exclaimed, laughing a little at her friend's enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, behind the counter, Luke was pouring two cups of coffee into his biggest mugs, humming happily as he did so. Suddenly, he caught his nephew's eye, realized what he was doing and stopped abruptly. Jess shot him an amused look.

"Say nothing!" Luke cautioned, directing a warning finger and a murderous look in his nephew's direction.

Jess threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I wasn't doing anything," he said, his mouth twisting up in a sort of smirk as he restrained the temptation to laugh out loud.

Luke maintained his death glare for a few seconds more, then his face relaxed and he chuckled briefly at himself. He handed Jess a rag. "Dishes. Now," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen.

Jess grinned back at him. "Whatever you say, Uncle Luke."

A/N2- I originally had a very, very different vision for this fic. Maybe someday I'll tell you all the details of How It Was Originally Supposed To Go, but for now, let me just say this. Vienna Teng basically wrote this fic for me. Well, not really, because I'm pretty sure she's chilling in San Francisco writing even more awesome music. But my original plan for Lorelai and Rory was wildly altered by her song "Daughter." And "Between" shifted my entire concept of Lorelai's conversation about her many relationships with Sookie. So what I'm saying here is... if you don't know Vienna Teng (and a sad number of people don't), GO OUT AND LISTEN TO HER ALBUMS. She's a brilliant lyricist, a brilliant songwriter, and her voice is quite beautiful, which is tragically rare in contemporary music.

...I'm pretty sure Vienna should pay me some kind of promoter's fee for the number of Author's Notes I write that basically turn into rants about how much I depend on her music for inspiration. But I speak no words that aren't true.