They Shoot Danes's, Don't They?

by

damnmydooah

Disclaimer: She is me.

Author's Note: I finally wrote a story again! A serious one! And by that I mean a non-parody story. Yay. I wrote this in a little over four hours, pausing only to go to the bathroom and light many, many cigarettes. They are essential to the writing process. As is putting on your Elton John cd on repeat. And coffee. The last one is only needed when you don't start to write until it's practically past midnight. Or if you're a total coffee addict. Which I am not. Anyway. Irrelevant.

Author's Note II: Because I believe in the annoyability of long pieces of text without any of those pretty white lines in between to rest your eyes on. I sent this round to my beta readers, but then got impatient. I looked up one on MSN Messenger, where we debated for two hours over how two sentences should be different. Finally satisfied, we chitchatted some more, called each other great, sweet and all those other wonderful adjectives, and then she went to watch the extras on her Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind DVD. I went about posting this story. Tada. Full circle.

Author's Note III: Because I can't shut my big yap. Humonguous thanks to Calyn aka CommaGirl, the aforementioned on MSN Messenger looked up beta reader. Thanks to Ivy and Kasey as well and apologies for my impatience. I need some action, since nobody has been leaving reviews for my previous stories. Yes, that's a hint. Now I'll shut up.

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THEY SHOOT DANES'S, DON'T THEY?

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"No."

"Oh, come on."

"No."

"Luke..."

"Third time: no."

"Please? I don't know anybody else; Rory has midterms."

"Ask Mrs. Coulter."

"Ha. Ha. Funny man."

"I'll be here all week. Now go away. I have customers."

"What customers? Kirk and those three tourists over there? Please. I'm more important than they are."

"You're not going away until I give in, will you?"

"Nope."

"Well, make yourself comfortable then, because you're going to be here forever."

"Oh! You mean, mean man! Please?"

"Oh jeez..."

"Ha! That's not a no!"

"What do I get in return?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I do this for you. It's a big favor; I will expect something in return."

"Hm. Name your conditions."

"No coffee. A week."

"Oh my God! I have to change my judgement. You're not mean, you're plain evil!"

"And -"

"There's more? You're Satan himself!"

"You have to promise to never ever use your cell phone in here again. No matter the circumstances or importance of the call."

"But, what if it's raining outside? And my Jimmy Choos get wet?"

"Bring an umbrella. Now. Take it or leave it."

"You drive a hard bargain, mister. But you're on. Now get me a cup of coffee."

"Excuse me, I thought we had an agreement here?"

"Week doesn't start until next Monday. Now gimme."

"And you call me evil?"

"And make it to go. I gotta be at the Dragonfly."

"Fine. Here you go."

"Thanks. I'll see you later. We'll go shopping for a tux."

"No way."

"Bring your credit card!"

Luke felt like banging his head on the counter, but figured Kirk and the three tourists wouldn't take kindly to that. What had he gotten himself into?

Participating in the 24 hour dance marathon with Lorelai, that's what. And he was not a very good dancer. The occasional slow waltz, sure, he could do that. But all that fancy schmancy stuff? With the steps, and the twirling? That he did not do.

He sighed. It was going to be the longest 24 hours of his life.

-/-/-/-

"No."

"Don't start with me, Luke."

"It's blue."

"It'll match your eyes."

"My eyes are not baby blue. And they don't have ruffles."

"I don't know. They have a distinct ruffle-like quality to them."

"That's it. I'm pulling out. You can find yourself a new dance partner."

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry. How about this one?"

"Why does it have to be a tux, per se? Can't I just wear a suit?"

"Luke, this is a very fancy affair. You have to look appropriately fancy."

"I don't do fancy."

"Could've fooled me. Now, this one? It's a simple, black tux. Here. What's your size?"

"This one. Oh no..."

"What?"

"There is no way in hell I'm going to wear a bow tie."

"The bow tie comes with the tux. It's part of the ensemble."

"Oh, so now you're using big french words to confuse me? That's just great."

"Remember, no coffee. For a whole week. Plus the no cell phone thing."

"You're evil. Fine. Let's find a register and get out of here. This place is giving me hives."

"Oh no, you have to try it on first."

"No way. I'm not wearing this thing any more that I have to."

"Yes, but if you don't try it on, you won't know for sure if it fits. And if it doesn't fit, you'll only find that out at home and then you'll have to come back here. I'm sure it will result in a major outbreak of hives."

"I hate you. Where are the changing rooms?"

"That way."

Luke closed the door of the changing room behind him and sighed. Staring at the suit and then at himself in the mirror, he shook his head. He still couldn't understand how Lorelai made him do these things.

Well, he did understand, in a way. But it was a stupid reason.

Sighing again, he started to unbutton his shirt.

-/-/-/-

"No."

"Shut up. You look great. Here, let me help you with that."

"Stay away from me. I don't trust you not to choke me with this thing. Which, by the way, is straight from hell."

"At least Satan is well dressed."

"Right now, I wouldn't be surprised if Satan was a woman. You, to be more precise."

"Why, Luke, you flatter me! Now, let me help you tie your tie."

"Fine. But I swear to God..."

"Yeah yeah, if I choke you... There. All done. Have a look at yourself."

"I don't want to."

"Will you cut your nagging and just admire how good you look?"

"I -"

"Told you."

"Have I told you yet that I hate you?"

"More times than I can count. Well, one, really. But you have to admit that you look good."

"No I don't."

"I know you're agreeing with me on the inside."

"I am not. Can we find a register now?"

"Sure. Change and we'll get out of here. Oh, and Luke?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow I'm giving you dance lessons."

Back in the changing room, Luke rested his head against the mirror and looked himself in the eye. Dance lessons? From Lorelai? With Lorelai? Could it possibly get any worse?

He decided that it probably would, and took off his jacket.

-/-/-/-

"No."

"This is getting old."

"Well, so am I. And I do not twirl."

"I'm not asking you to twirl. You just have to twirl me. And you're not old."

"I don't twirl anybody. Plus, I'd probably drop you or something."

"You will not. I have complete faith in you."

"Don't. I'll probably get distracted mid-twirl and forget to catch you."

"Yes, because you're so easily distracted."

"And I didn't say I was old. I said I was getting old. Big difference."

"Either way, it's nonsense. Now just twirl me."

"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll consider myself warned. Now twirl."

...

"Whoa..."

"Sorry about that."

"No, you twirled me good. I just wasn't prepared for that..."

"Yeah, I might've pulled you in a little too hard."

"We'll work on that. But you've got the twirl. The twirl is all yours. As the Dutch say: you have it under the knee."

"You with the Dutch again. What's up with that?"

"They're fun people. Plus, pot is legal there."

"Don't tell me you smoked weed in Holland."

"Fine, I won't."

"Lorelai..."

"Do I look like a pothead to you, Luke?"

"I don't know. Sometimes."

"Hey, not nice. Besides, that's just me on coffee withdrawal."

"So next week, you'll look like a pothead all week. I look forward to that."

"And thus endeth the conversation. Are you ready to practice a couple more simple steps?"

"Never."

As Lorelai danced Luke through the room to the beat of some kind of uptempo jazzy showtune, he reflected on the past events. She had coralled him into joining her as partner for the dance marathon. She had made him buy a tux.

And now they were dancing around in his apartment, circumnavigating his furniture, her hand tight in his and his arm around her waist.

And that twirl... He might be mistaken – he hoped he was and he hoped he wasn't – but he had felt something shift in her when he had pulled her back in and their bodies had made full contact. There was a slight hitch in her breath and a darkening in her eyes.

He tried not to think about it and concentrated on keeping up with her instead.

-/-/-/-

"No."

"I'm going to slap you."

"Go ahead. It will not change my mind."

"But you knew this when you said yes!"

"It slipped my mind."

"Well, I'm slipping it back in. And I'm putting duct tape over that hole."

"Forget it. I am not getting up at four in the morning."

"Please."

"No."

"Remember the none-drinking of the coffee. And the lack of cell phone."

"I -"

"I need you."

"You're serious."

"I am. I can't imagine dancing with anyone else. And we practiced so much."

"We did."

"And can you just imagine the look on Kirk's face if we won? He'll be devastated."

"I do like that idea."

"You'll throw Taylor for a loop. He might never harass you again. Ever."

"No such thing."

"True. Luke..."

"Yeah?"

"Please?"

"Fine."

"Yes! You're the best!"

"Whoa! Easy there... I'd like to be able to breathe."

"Sorry. But you are. I'll see you here tomorrow morning. Five thirty."

"I'll be here."

Luke watched Lorelai practically skip out of the diner. He couldn't help but smile over the fact that he was the one that made her so happy. And that hug...

He tapped his fingers on the counter. The past few days had been... interesting. Not only did he get to spend more time with Lorelai than ever before, he also had the feeling that they had become closer somehow. During their dancing sessions there had been times where they would look at each other and there would be this... tension. Something palpable that was in the room with them.

And he had to admire Lorelai's teaching skills. After only two afternoons he was able to keep up with her most of the time. And he loved the feeling of her body so close to his.

Oh boy. He was not looking forward to tomorrow. And yet he was.

-/-/-/-

"No -"

"I am instituting the rule that you can no longer say the word no in my presence."

"I wasn't going to say no!"

"I distinctly just heard you say it."

"Yes, but you didn't let me finish. I was going to say, 'no way will I ever figure out how this thing works.'"

"Oh. Sorry. And let me help. There. All done. You look nice."

"Thanks. You look pretty good, too."

"Wow, a real compliment. Thank you."

"But are you sure you will be able to stand on those shoes for 24 hours?"

"Luke, if Jimmy Choo had been around when I was born, I would have come out of my mother's womb wearing strappy sandals."

"There's a nice mental image for you."

"You're right. Ew. Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"That's the spirit."

Luke followed Lorelai down the stairs and out of the diner. He had lied before. She didn't look good. She looked amazing. Her evening blue strapless dress with twirling skirt was elegant and sexy at the same time, hugging her curves in all the right places, yet revealing very little.

He willed himself to breath steadily. There was no way he going to last 24 hours if he thought of her like that. And if they were going to be dancing close...

-/-/-/-

"You're doing great."

"I had a good teacher."

"Very true. But that step you did just now, I didn't teach you."

"Well, I'm not completely ignorant."

"You're full of surprises, Mr. Danes."

"Is that a good thing?"

"I like it."

"Good. That's good."

"Luke?"

"Hm?"

"Twirl me?"

"You sure?"

"Never been surer."

"Okay. Here goes."

"Whoa."

"I got you."

"Good thing. That was one hell of a twirl."

"Sorry?"

"No, that's okay. It's just..."

"Jeez! What's that?"

"Oh dear. The run-around."

"The what?"

"Crap! I keep forgetting this part every year. Run!"

"Oh man..."

Luke was glad that he had run track at high school. Dragging Lorelai along, holding on to her hand tightly, they quickly made it to the front of the line. He looked back at her and, at seeing her having some trouble to keep up with him, he put an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, telling her to hang on just a little longer. She grabbed on to his lapel with her free hand, nodding.

When the siren went off again, he supported her to the side of the gymnasium, where she collapsed to the ground, pulling him down with her. He ended up on his back with Lorelai's head on his shoulder, his arm still around her waist.

He felt dizzy, and he knew it wasn't for the lack of oxygen.

-/-/-/-

"You have amazing stamina."

"Uh... thanks."

"No, seriously. We've been dancing for fourteen hours, and you haven't even broken out into a sweat."

"Neither have you."

"I'm a lady. Ladies don't perspire."

"Big word."

"I'm tired. I tend to use big words when I'm tired. Like megalomaniacal."

"Use it in a sentence."

"Taylor is megolamaniacal."

"True. Whoa there. You okay?"

"Yeah. My knees gave out for a second."

"Break's in fifteen minutes. We'll get you some coffee."

"God, please. Tell me you brought a flask?"

"Always."

"You're an angel."

"So you told me a long time ago."

"I did, didn't I? And strong arms, too."

"What's that?"

"When you caught me just now. That was some impressive lifting."

"Ah well. Boxes, I guess. And you're not that heavy."

"Leave it up to you to make receiving a compliment into giving one. You're good."

"I try."

"Luke?"

"Lorelai."

"Maybe we could – after the marathon is over, I mean – maybe we could..."

"Maybe we could."

"Yeah?"

"Might be nice."

"Definite possibility. Luke?"

"Yeah."

"Knees."

"I've got you."

"That you do."

Luke smiled into Lorelai's hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. He felt silly in his weird suit, but he was holding Lorelai and he was pretty sure they had just agreed to go on a date. He just hoped that it hadn't been her tired brain speaking.

He sure hoped it wasn't.

-/-/-/-

"How much longer?"

"Just under an hour."

"Thank God. I feel like a walking corpse."

"Dancing corpse, actually."

"True, true."

"And..."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's corny."

"What? Tell me!"

"I was gonna say, 'A very pretty corpse.'"

"Luke..."

"I know. Stupid."

"No. It's sweet. Corny, also. But sweet."

"Told you."

"You don't do sweet."

"Nope."

"Well, I gotta tell you, mister. What you just said? That was you being sweet."

"Damn..."

"Hm. Hey, is Kirk still around?"

"Uh... yes he is. But Lulu doesn't look too good."

"Poor Lulu. Guess she didn't know what she was getting into with Kirk, huh?"

"Nobody could've known that."

"You speak the truth, my friend. Hee."

"What?"

"I feel like speaking ancient."

"Again I say, 'What?'"

"Thou speaketh the truth, mine friend."

"Ah. Well, we all get that impulse every once in a while."

"No. Was that a joke?"

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it wath. Thou musteth faceth the truth."

"Your ancient speak sucks."

"And he's back."

Luke tightened his hold on Lorelai's waist, indicating for her to put her arms around his neck. As she gratefully smiled up at him, he felt his stomach tighten.

He told himself to calm down. He was pretty sure that her suggestion to go out on a date wasn't an oxygen-deprived fluke, but there was no reason to freak out over it. It would only scare her away.

He resolved to make it to the end of the marathon and then wait for her to make a move, hoping it was one in the right direction.

-/-/-/-

"Five more minutes."

"How's Lulu looking?"

"She's drooping."

"Yeah? Lemme see."

"See? Oh, there she goes."

"Kirk isn't as strong as you."

"Doesn't this mean we won?"

"It does? It does. It does! We won!"

"We won."

"We won! We won!"

"Wow. New energy."

"It's victory energy. We won! All because of you!"

"What did I do?"

"Why, with the stamina, and the arms, and the wings."

"Wings? Oh, angel."

"Gabriel himself. And – oh..."

"You need to stop doing that."

"Well, I can now. And you're the best catcher ever."

"Thanks."

"You're very close."

"No more so than the past 24 hours."

"Oh no. You're way closer."

...

"Wow."

"Yeah?"

"I'd think of an actual word, but my brain is definitely short-circuiting right now."

"That's not good."

"Under different circumstances, no, it wouldn't be."

"These are good circumstances?"

"You have to ask?"

"Always."

"Okay then. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, good circumstances, yes."

"Oh, that kind of yes."

"Yes."

"Lorelai?"

"Yes?"

"Should we collect our prize?"

"Screw the prize."

They went for a walk. It was a warm night and they sat in the gazebo where Lorelai took off her Jimmy Choos and they talked about nothing in particular until Luke felt her leaning into him, yawning apologetically. Then he took her up to his apartment where they fell into bed, exhausted.

When Luke woke up at five p.m. and found Lorelai sleeping next to him, he smiled, drew her close to him and went back to sleep.

END

A/N: Redrum. And Johnny's back, too.