Chapter 1: Sperm by the Seashore

The party was raucous. Luke Danes could tell that much just from pulling up. Being a socially stiff person, a populated environment, but especially a celebratory populated environment, was the last place in the world he wanted to be. But he didn't have a choice. His parents had insisted he accompany his pregnant little sister, Liz, to this party. Along with her brown-nosed friends. Something about protecting her in her fragile state.

Ha! Luke knew damn well that Liz could look after herself, pregnant or not, and that his usefulness to her would end the moment he opened the door to the car. He was less a bodyguard than he was a chauffeur tonight - nothing more, nothing less. His sister did nothing to dispel this knowledge, as she indulged Luke's helping her out of the back of the van. Her friends tumbled out after her more or less independently, conditional on their degree of drunkenness.

"Come on, Liz, hurry! We're missing it!" one called. They raced out of the parking lot and onto the sandy dunes of the beach, the disco lights and Tranz-am speakers beckoning as seductively as the Nayeds of Greek mythology.

"Liz!" Luke's call barely made her turn back. "Stay with your friends. Don't go too far. Any dude puts his hands on you, kick his ass. And don't over-exert yourself."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Dad. Whatever!" And then she was gone.

Luke's nature would normally dictate that he sit in his car until at least one girl came staggering back supporting the others and then that would be that. But News Year Eve was no ordinary night of partying, just as Harvey's Beach was no ordinary beach. Though their pull was less mesmerizing than it had been for the girls, the lights and music still, slowly but surely, pulled the 19-year-old stud into the crowd.

Teenagers from various ages - some looked as young as middle school - danced together in a claustrophobic mosh pit. An endless loop of all the latest hits - Michael Jackson, Cyndi Lauper, Elton John, Phil Collins - blasted above the crowd. Most of the guests paid the quiet baseball star no mind, except for those who glanced at him wearily, thinking perhaps that his inconspicuous demeanor and imposing physique identified him as some kind of bouncer.

The thought made Luke smirk. He was no bouncer. And even if he was, what bouncer could possibly control this shit-show, much less on an entire fucking beach? A shindig like this required cops, and lots of them, perhaps with tazers blazing.

The song suddenly shifted to a slow one - a Collins crooner - and the crunch of people became only thicker as couples came together for a little slow dancing. Luke squeezed past people to wriggle himself free, lest an unattached lady grab for him. "I can feel it coming in the air tonight..."

Though he never discussed his particular musical tastes, Luke had to groan at the song. The British rock legend's time heading up Genesis had been so much more lucrative, in his humble opinion.

Yup. Just another boring night, this New Years' Eve of 1983.

But perhaps, not boring for long. A short distance away from the main hubbub, over by the wine coolers, Luke noticed a couple arguing. The guy had a blonde bimbo within arm's reach, while a black-haired, pretty-faced girl - presumably his girlfriend - was busy ripping him a new one.

"Fuck you, Christopher! Going off eating this bitch's face! Cheating on me!"

Though he had to disapprove at her choice of words, Luke could not help but admire this girl's spunk. Liz might be a wild child herself, but he doubted that even she could bat away guy's advances or injustices with this much... temerity.

The girl now stormed off, heading for the coolers before popping a BudLight and downing it almost in one. Intrigued, Luke moved closer.

"Everything OK?" His inquiry made the girl nearly jump out of her skin, snorting up some of the liquid through her nose.

"You startled me!"

"Sorry," Luke took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I saw you reaming that guy out. He your boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," the girl corrected. "And good riddance!" She paused, eyeing Luke. "So what are you? Bouncer? Undercover cop? Making sure everyone's on the straight and narrow?"

"Why does everyone think I'm a bouncer?" he marveled, only half to himself.

"Maybe because you're butch, Butch!" a passing gal in a bikini suddenly cat-called. Her posse of lady friends hooted and screamed assent.

"Want me some of that!"

"Sexy!"

The black-haired girl burst out laughing at Luke's deer-in-headlights stare. "You don't take compliments very well; you look like you've just seen a ghost!"

"Maybe because it's less a compliment than a nickname," Luke mumbled. And in his view, a poor one at that.

"What? Butch?" the girl smirked, amused.

Luke shrugged, flushing. "A sports moniker." He'd heard it often enough on the baseball field of Stars Hollow High. He decided to change the subject. "So what do they call you?"

The girl flushed red herself. "Lola. Nice to meet you, Butch." She held out her hand. For some reason, Luke found himself laughing and shaking it in kind. He guessed he'd go along with it. For now.

"Look, I really am sorry you got used by that dick. The way he's flitting about, looks like he never left pre-school." Luke nodded in the direction of that Chris fellow, who was now rolling around in the sand with his blonde paramour.

Lola let out a bark of laughter. "Special Ed, more like it."

"Still, you don't deserve to be treated that way. No girl does."

Lola blinked, captivated by Luke's honesty. "A chivalrous one! Such a rare find these days..."

"Only if you don't know where to look," Luke shrugged. "My sister never has. She's cycled through a series of bums; got herself knocked up by one, too."

Lola laughed. "Ain't it always the way?"

"Yeah, but hopefully not forever."

"I'll drink to that!" Lola raised her beer skyward, before plucking another from a cooler. "Think fast!" Luke barely caught it.

That first shared beer soon gave way to a second. Then a third. A fourth. Between shots, Lola would deftly take pictures of both herself and Luke with her disposable camera. To be both photographer and subject took great skill indeed. Luke soon forgot about his pregnant sister and her bitchy friends, his eyes only for the enthralling black-haired beauty before him. He was vaguely aware that Lola led him over to a picnic blanket a short distance away, where the pair sat and watched the dancing, listened to the music. The DJ's "Last Call!"reverberated into the night. A Prince single came on: "I ain't got no money / I ain't like those other guys you hang around / It's kind of funny / But they always seem to let you down..."

"Truer words were never spoken... er, sung," Lola groused, leaning her head on Luke's shoulder. She sounded sad. Luke felt sorry for her. As the song wrapped up, he could hear the crowd starting to yell the countdown to midnight.

"Five!... Four!... Three!... Two!... One!"

His timing was way off. He only meant to kiss her cheek to console her, but instead Lola shifted her head at the last second, pressing her lips to his. They held the kiss for a moment before breaking apart. Lola's eyes - blue as sapphires - sparkled in the moonlight. "Happy New Year."

Suddenly, Luke was kissing this girl as if he could not stop. And she was kissing him back. Luke rolled her onto her back, before pausing. Did she want this? Did she consent? As if answering his silent question, Lola grabbed his hands and had them bunch up fistfuls of her shirt. Taking that as a yes, the couple divested themselves almost reverently of their clothing. Hovering over her entrance, Luke paused, just to be sure.

The look in Lola's eyes indicated she thought his caution sweet and gentlemanly. She nodded. Slowly, Luke pushed into her. There was a gasp as Lola's hands scrabbled for purchase along Luke's rippling back muscles. As he began to thrust into her, her grip soon shifted so that she was bunching the picnic blanket up in her fists.

"Uhhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhhhh... UHHHHHHH! Yes... Harder... Harder! Faster..."

Luke obeyed her every moan and breathy command as if under a spell. His thrusts soon morphed into pounds, Lola thrashing and shrieking with pleasure beneath him.

"Grrruhhhhhhh!" Luke felt himself burst into his release, pulsing with a steady beat. When the last of his semen was ejaculated into her, the former baseball star collapsed on top of his lover and moved no more. The last he felt before drifting off was Lola nestling his face in between her breasts.

The sky was somewhere in that halfway land between black and grey when Luke awoke a few hours later, still nuzzled in the embrace of his tryst. Lola was staring at him with a soft smile. "Good morning," she purred, kissing his nose.

"Where... where are we?" Luke groaned, shifting around to take in his surroundings.

"The beach, still," Lola slurred.

"Shit!" Luke scrambled off of her, diving for his discarded clothes. The stretch of sand was quiet, deserted; the Tranz-ams and disco lights were long gone. "LIZ!"

"I'm sure she's fine," Lola waved away, rising to her feet herself.

"The way she drinks? No way in hell! LIZ!"

Lola merely re-dressed, unconcerned by Luke's growing panic.

"I have to go! I, uh... thank you," Luke stammered out. "See you around... Lola."

Lola smirked. "I had a great time... Butch," she purred.

Luke stumbled away across the dunes, back the direction he had come, eventually finding his way to the parking lot. His van was gone. Had Liz commandeered it with her friends and tried piloting it back to Stars Hollow? If she was driving drunk and something happened...

Using a nearby payphone, Luke managed to call a cab. Just as his ride arrived, he spotted Lola hustling across the parking lot, carrying her sandals. Luke gave a half-hearted wave, even though her back was to him.

He didn't know it then, but that would not be the last he saw of Lola. Their paths would cross again... only this time, under very different names.