WE GOT US A PIPPI VIRGIN, CON'T

Extended scene for 5x05 "We Got Us a Pippi Virgin." Luke reflects on his behaviour towards Dean. Rated M.

Luke had let Lorelai fall asleep early into what he into what he hoped against hope was a contented sleep on the couch. Luke had his arm on the couch around her, a stilted embrace that offered no real comfort or connection.

After Rory had told him he had been the reason they had to pull out the Bop-It, that he had made the evening unbearable in his lack of effort to accept her and Dean, she'd left to go back to Yale. She had been angry. Luke wasn't sure if he'd ever made Rory angry. If not angry, she was disappointed. In him. That knowledge pulled him under a wave of hot shame.

To Lorelai, Luke had offered a defensive apology for his behaviour. Gave his unsubstantiated opinion that Dean wasn't good enough for Rory. He knew that Lorelai didn't really accept his logic and was frustrated by his unwillingness to just support her in supporting Rory's decision. She let them move forward in their evening, though, agreeing to a beer and letting Luke suggest she put a movie on. She said little else for the rest of the evening, silently watching The Goonies play through on the classic movie channel. She offered no color commentary or good humor watching Chunk do the truffle shuffle. After a half hour, she had closed her eyes. Her beer was untouched on the coffee table, leaving a ring of condensation underneath it.

Luke didn't wake her. He held still on the couch, Lorelai's head barely touching his outstretched arm, and let her sleep. She still wore the clothes she'd had on for their double date. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as she slept. It was clear she had no more energy for him tonight. Luke was pulled further under by shame.

"But I can't be around that guy," he had said. "I knew that, and I said yes anyway." When Lorelai pressed him on this, all he could say to her was that he's not good for her.

Dean, not good for Rory.

Luke was one to talk.

A punk, he'd called him. A punk who broke Rory's heart. A punk who bailed on his marriage before the honeymoon was over. An unstable punk who was pining for Rory when he got married to someone else. Luke argued that Dean had proven that he doesn't know what he wanted. How could Rory trust him now, he'd asked.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut.

He's not good for her.

He's not right for her.

Luke looked around at where he was. In the living room of his new girlfriend, his best friend who he had loved for years before somehow getting the chance to be her movie guy.

He was acting like an idiot, he knew. He'd insulted Dean, angered Rory, and frustrated Lorelai, causing the night to end early. He'd ruined Lorelai's invaluable time with her daughter. He'd ruined his own time with the young woman who he claimed to care for like a daughter. He'd drained the spark from his unceasingly brilliant girlfriend's eyes.

He was bull-headed.

Luke wondered if Lorelai was embarrassed by his behaviour. Embarrassed by his obstinance. By having Luke as her petulant tagalong.

She'd been asking him gently all evening to please be nice, to please give this a chance. Luke hadn't, and he knew his stubborn commitment to challenging Dean at every turn had made the entire night miserable.

He wondered if he was making Lorelai miserable.

He's not good enough for her, he'd told Lorelai. The irony. Luke himself had committed the same list of wrongs that he'd held against Dean and yet here he was, being given an opportunity to join the Gilmore girls more fully in their world, despite those wrongs.

He was afraid. Afraid that he was exactly what he feared Dean was: not good enough, not right. Not good for Lorelai. It had been less than two months since he'd gotten back from Maine and his relationship with Lorelai had evolved, and already he was disappointing her. He'd wanted to be with here like this for years. Like Dean, Luke recalled how he had bailed on a marriage that he had no right to be in. He'd been pining, too. Lorelai was his Ava Gardner. Luke saw himself in Dean, saw himself as the waiting-for-a-brother-to-die prince. Not someone who was going to be good for Lorelai.

This was Luke's fear, realized. In his more optimistic moments, Luke had hoped that he and Lorelai would work, how he cared for her would carry them through That her light would balance out his dark. But now, he felt ashamed that he needed her to buoy him. It wasn't fair to her.

Lorelai shifted on the couch, pulling Luke momentarily from his spiralling. Her knuckles went to her squinting eyes, rubbing away sleep and flaked mascara. She pulled herself from Luke's weak embrace.

Luke's reflection on the evening had made him feel sick. Small. Low. He watched as Lorelai took in her surroundings. He wondered if she felt disappointed when she remembered where she was, his presence, the evening. "Hey," was all Luke could muster in greeting.

Lorelai gave him a weak smile. Closed-lipped.

Not good enough.

It wasn't yet eleven o'clock, but all Luke could think to do was excuse himself. "I should…" he began, pulling his arm in from where it had been extended across the back of the sofa. "You should get some sleep. Get comfortable."

Lorelai nodded blearily and moved to stand up.

"I'll go," Luke said.

"You're leaving?" Lorelai turned to him.

Luke's heart sank. "I…" He started, "I figured that after to-" He dropped his eyes in embarrassment, "Figured you'd want a little space."

Lorelai sighed. After a moment, she reached over and lightly touched her fingers to Luke's arm. "Come to bed, Luke." She said softly.

Luke couldn't read her emotion, but instincts told him to oblige. Luke was still wrapping his head around the fact that there was a bed to go to, with Lorelai. He didn't know if declining her now would compound her disappointment in him.

Luke let her tug him up off the couch. He helped her turn off lamps in the living room and ascended the staircase behind her.

She was quiet, he observed. Wordlessly, she'd disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, presumably to wash and dress for sleep. Luke felt self-conscious as he undressed for bed, draping his clothes over a stool in her bedroom. He crawled under the covers on what had only recently been established as his side of the bed.

He hadn't stayed over at Lorelai's more than two, three times. Luke had never been alone in her bedroom as her boyfriend. Handyman, sure. But boyfriend was new. He took in his eclectic, lamp-lit surroundings and felt a tender pang in his stomach. A pang of regret, he knew, for tonight. Fear that tonight was who he was, and that his having a side of Lorelai's bed was inevitably going to be temporary.

Sighing, Luke adjusted a pillow under his back to lean against the headboard and shifted the remaining pillows in the bed over to Lorelai's side. She liked to be comfortable. Reaching over to her side, the side closer to the door, his eyes landed on the picture frame on her nightstand that he was sure hadn't been there the last time he stayed over. Luke reached for the frame. It was a photo of him and Lorelai in the horse-drawn sleigh they'd rid in together the night of she and Sookie's 18th century dinner at the Independence Inn. In the photo, they were cozied together under a fur. Lorelai was grinning widely, clearly exuberant, with Luke feigning stoicism beside her. His lips were pursed with skepticism, but he could clearly see his suppressed smile and shining eyes.

Their dynamic sure had been consistent.

"The Bracebridge Dinner," he heard Lorelai say, standing at the bedroom doorway. Luke hadn't heard her in the hall.

"Ah, oh – yeah," He blushed, moving to replace the photo on her nightstand. "I uh, I didn't notice this last time." He paused, taking in the photograph once more before setting it back on Lorelai's bedside. "I didn't know there was a picture."

"Morey took it," she told him as she pulled the untied robe from her shoulders, revealing the Henley and sweatpants she had changed into to sleep. "Babette brought over a copy of the print a few days after the dinner." She paused, poising to crawl into bed as she eyed the frame. "I've always loved the photo. Always wanted to put it out somewhere." She slid into the bed beside Luke. "I found it in an album the other day and… put it in a frame. Figured I could finally get away with displaying it now." She said this last part with a hint of shyness.

Luke caught her small smile. His heart leapt. His stomach tightened. He assumed that this was written all over his face as Lorelai's smile broadened. "What," she smirked, "you think you're the only who can have a crush?"

Luke's stomach tightened further. God, this woman could melt him. She'd been waiting to put the photo out? Of the two of them? From years ago?

Luke was sure that Lorelai had meant the line about a crush to be lighthearted, but it brough a fresh tide of shame for his behaviour tonight. "I was a jerk tonight, Lorelai." He tried to sound definitive.

Lorelai's breath caught for a moment, and she exhaled in a way that Luke knew meant that she was going to let him off the hook. "Luke, it's fine –"

"It's not fine," Luke stayed facing forward in the bed, still resting against the headboard. Lorelai settled herself under the covers laying down. "I was a jerk." He said again. "To you, to Rory." Luke sighed. "To Dean. I'm sorry."

A moment passed. She sighed softly. "I know you're just… protective," Lorelai she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Luke looked straight ahead.

"Yeah," he mused, "but this was… more than that." He looked down at his hands. "I was… projecting."

Lorelai turned to him, propping herself up on her arm. "Projecting?"

Luke slowly met her gaze. "I think… everything that drives me crazy about Dean for Rory, I think… is me. For you." His eyes dropped again to his folded hands, twisting his fingers to work up the nerve to say what he needed to. "The reckless marriage, the divorce…" he sighed, "I worry that I'm not good for you."

Luke met Lorelai's eyes, finding her staring at him with an intensity that made him nervous. "I'm difficult. Grumpy." He gestured to the photo of them in the sleigh. "Even then, look at me, I'm being… difficult. I don't know how you put up with it. And now, why you'd want to…" he let himself trail off, not wanting to finish the thought aloud.

When more than five seconds passed before Lorelai said anything, Luke opened his mouth to give her something, anything, in follow up. She finally spoke before he could think what to say.

"I'm not great at relationships. I don't have everything – anything, really – figured out." She met Luke's eyes. "I'm not sure if I know what being good for someone else is, or… if I'm that for you, either." Luke opened his mouth to begin to assure her, but she continued. "I know you really well, Luke. I think I might know you better than you think I do." She reached over to clasp his fidgeting hands. "I've considered this. A lot." Luke met her eyes. "I know you're grumpy. I know you're obstinate. Us being together isn't me testing whether or not you're good for me." She squeezed his hands. "You are." She smiled softly.

Luke's chest constricted. To his surprise, he felt a pang in his throat at her sincerity. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Lorelai continued. "I can be pretty obstinate too, you know. Like insisting we support Rory in a situation that, well, is a lot more complicated than I let on. But I trust you with that." She squeezed his hands again. "I trust you, to trust me. To trust Rory."

Luke didn't know what to say. His throat was thick with emotion. He wasn't sure if he could get anything out.

Lorelai took this as her cue to continue. "That photo," she gestured at the Bracebridge photo on the nightstand behind her, "I wanted a photo of us in here. I miss you, Luke, on the nights we spend apart. I've never actually shared my bed with a man before, not for the entire night. I've never really… missed a man when they weren't with me." She turned her eyes down with a soft sincerity. Her vulnerability had stopped him in his tracks.

"I love this photo," she told him. "It's so… us. So us even before we were an us. Me chatting your ear off, you… feigning intolerance." She smiled. "Right?"

"I wanted to be there," he told her, meeting her eyes. "Then, now. I want this more than anything, Lorelai." His words caused a grin to break out on her face. "I'm worried that by being myself, I'm ruining it."

"Luke." She was solemn. "We love each other as we are, right? Not as we imagined the other would be?" She squeezed his hands again. "You're not ruining anything. It's okay."

Lorelai referencing their loving one another was not lost on Luke. They hadn't told each other that they loved each other yet, but Luke was moved to hear her so easily refer to what was between them as love. Of course he loved her. Accepted her. Lorelai telling him that she felt the same about him – that she knew that total acceptance of one another was the standard between them – spoke volumes. Pushing past the overwhelming emotion caught in his throat, Luke whispered a hushed "Thank you." He met her eyes. "I'll call Rory tomorrow. Apologize, again."

"Sure," Lorelai agreed. She had turned herself over on her side facing Luke, pulling him by the shoulder now to face her. She gave him one last meaningful look – forgiveness, Luke thought – before pulling him the rest of the way into him to kiss him.

After a moment, Luke pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. Lorelai pulled him into her again, kissing him soundly. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Luke quickly granted her access, bringing one hand up to cradle her cheek, the other wrapping around her waist. At the increased contact, Luke felt Lorelai begin to slowly grind against him.

He pulled away again, meeting her eyes. He needed to check in. Without words, Lorelai gave him the eyes that he was learning meant that she wanted him. Luke brought his lips back to Lorelai's resolutely, rolling her onto her back. Letting the natural momentum of the kiss press Lorelai hard into the mattress, he cupped her face fiercely, writhing against one another.

Breaking away from her lips again, Luke met Lorelai's eyes again. The desire he saw reflected back to him let him know that they were cementing their conversation with physical intimacy. He accepts this as a resolution for the night.

Luke ducked himself down to kiss Lorelai again, hard, knowing he wants to show her how he loves her. He traces a trail of kisses down her neck, lingering on her clavicle, down to her breasts. He spends time lapping each nipple into his mouth causing Lorelai to writhe underneath him. Luke kisses down her abdomen, suckling on her hips, down to her inner thighs, until he finds her waiting core.

She was wet, he knew. He buries his nose in the soft tufts of hair and folds of her labia, licking her fully. Lorelai sighs at the feeling, gingerly rotating her hips at the sensation of his tongue inside her. Luke worked her slowly, persistently, building up to his tongue lapping at her vagina. She remained relatively quiet in her response to him, and he accepted this. He just wanted to please her.

Luke continued to tend to her, listening attentively for any signal she gave him. He was going slow, gentle with a flat tongue. Building her up. When he knew that she was ready, when she was grinding hard against him and whimpering, he tongued her clitoris. Sucking her. Finding the right spot, he elicited a guttural moan from Lorelai, and knew to stay persistent where he was.

He brought her to climax. Feeling her contract, Luke backed away for a moment. When she'd settled, he continued his pursuit, adding in a finger, then two, then three, curling up into her as kept his mouth on her. Luke continued to listen to her body until he'd brought her to climax a second and third time. Lorelai's movements were languid beneath him when she finally reached down to pull him up to her.

"I get it," she whispered against his lips, pressing kisses along his mouth and jaw. Tasting herself on his lips, she ground against him again. Luke captured her lips, pulling his fingers from her and dragging them up her abdomen.

He stayed silent at her acknowledgment, kissing her again and again, his tongue tangling with hers, dragging down her neck, nipping her earlobe, laving her breasts until he felt that she knew that he adored her. Her unbridled pleasure distracted her from her communicating to Luke that she was satisfied. Her sex was engorged, wet, and pushing up against him with longing. He couldn't help but slip his fingers down into her again, gasping in pleasure at her wetness, not knowing what was her and what was him inside of her. She came on his fingers again.

Luke knew that she was beyond satisfied. He watched her come apart on his fingers, savoring her, and then moved to position himself to enter her. She had told him during their first night together that she was on oral contraceptive – the birth control pill. The first time they'd had sex, Luke and Lorelai mutually admitted that they didn't usually go without condoms with new partners, and then shortly after admitted that new partners were few and far between. They each knew who the other was referencing, and since them, they'd been tested. But still, since he'd started sleeping with her, Luke made a habit of asking each time before he entered her without a condom.

"We're ok?" he asked, rubbing himself against her, peering into her eyes.

Lorelai met his gaze. She reached her hand out for the first time that night and grasped him, working his already hard length. It felt so good, still so surreal to have Lorelai touch him in that way. The first few times they'd slept together, Lorelai commended him on his body – he was comfortably big for her, pleasing in the way that he filled her. They fit. She knew now, as she worked Luke with her hand, that he was again asking for permission to enter her.

She nodded and released him.

Luke plunged himself into Lorelai by memory, by feel, without needing to position anything. They both gasped. After a few strokes, he propped himself onto slightly bent knees to pump into her with the force he knew she needed. He held her leg up, folded over his shoulder as he hit her from every angle he knew that she loved. They didn't need to switch positions before Lorelai came, hard, as Luke penetrated her. Feeling Lorelai's climax surround him and watching her, exhausted, be taken over the edge by him once again, Luke let himself go. He continued to thrust as he released inside of her with a guttural whimper, whispering her name.

He thrusted into her until he felt himself go soft.

They paused together for a moment, Luke helping Lorelai's leg down from his shoulder, his forehead pressed against hers. He laid down beside her on the bed.

"You're amazing," he told her, caressing her hair. "I'm sorry. I can be better." He kissed her forehead. "Less grumpy."

"I love your grumpy," Lorelai reached for Luke's hair in response. They both shifted into their resting places in Lorelai's bed. "I mean it, Luke. I'm here… for all of you." She played with the curls around his necks. "Good and bad."

He knew that. Six weeks into his relationship with her, he knew that. Luke had been friends with this woman for eight years, slowly peeling each other back, until they both found trust. They weren't naïve enough to believe that the trust they'd built was unshakeable or didn't require work, or that their new relationship status didn't involve growth on their ends, but Luke knew that he could trust his best friend. Lorelai. If she told him she was here for all of him, he had to believe that.

"Thank you."

He did believe it. She believed that he was enough for her. He'd be enough for her.

Fin.