I own a 96' Geo Tracker, a beat up guitar, hundreds of tapes with my favorite shows on them, but otherwise…nothing. Don't sew, I work at a gas station, I wash cars for a living…I'm just a poor girl…

Rusty

'Palace Garden or Prom Dress?'

Lorelai Gilmore, was lounging on her sofa staring at her naked toes, and having an inner debate. She lifts them into the air, wiggling each toe back and forth, hoping that in doing so, she'll have the answer to her question. She was on the brink of making up her mind when the phone pulls her out of her conundrum. She reaches under the pillow she is lying against and brings the phone to her ear while simultaneously pressing the talk button.

"Lorelai Gilmore the second yet the most beautiful speaking." She smiles at her wit.

"Mom…"

'Great' she thinks, 'Rory will know the answer'.

"Hey, quick question kid." She says cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, while leaning forward and picking up two nail polish bottles. "Palace Garden or…Prom Dress."

"Mom, I don't have time…" Rory was getting impatient, seeing as she was already going to be late for her class.

"Just answer…I made time to carry you in my womb for almost a year." She replies throwing the polishes in her lap and waving her arms in the air as if Rory could read her body language through the phone.

"Fine…Prom Dress. It's the better of the pinks." Rory sighs and grabs her bag, throwing it on her shoulder and walking out of her dorm.

"I knew I could count on you baby. So, what's a-happenin' hot stuff?" Lorelai situates herself on the couch so she is sitting Indian pretzel style.

"I knew I shouldn't have left the Molly Ringwald tapes, another marathon, huh?"

"Don't judge…"

"Yeah, Yeah…I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be coming out after my last class, and I wanted to know if you needed me to pick anything up for you…" Rory stops outside her classroom now, hoping to quickly end this conversation. She finds as she is getting older she has become more and more like her mother. Late to everything.

"Um…Tampons, toilet paper, paper towels, Q-tips, cotton balls, nail polish remover, Windex, tide, Ooh and some new nail polish but I want a funky color, like lime green or…or psycadellic orange." She finishes her list scooting back on the couch, bringing one leg up, and unscrewing the nail polish top.

"Mom, I don't think I can to all your shopping tonight…"

"Yeah, I know…just get me some nail polish." She began to paint her big toe, laying the polish on in a thick layer. She has never been patient enough to do more than one coat.

"I'll see what I can do…" Rory looked at the wall clock in the hallway. She is now ten minutes late. She pulls a Rory and begins to panic. "Hey, Mom…I gotta go. I'm late."

"WHAT? Who knocked you up?"

"Bye mom…"

"Bye Sweets." Lorelai chuckles to her self and hangs up the phone. She tosses it to the side of the couch that is unoccupied and resumes painting her nails. She was just finishing the little piggy that had roast beef when she hears the door bell ring. She sighs, irritated, throws the polish down and wobbles to the door in an attempt to salvage that hard work that she has already finished.

"I'm coming, hold on, I'm wet…Ha, DIRTY…not in that kind of way, my toes…" She grabs the knob and hastily throws the door open to reveal an equally irritated Luke.

"Whatcha break this time?" He stands in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes full of inquisition.

"I didn't break anything…My appliances are plotting against me." She shows him into the house and shuts the door behind him. He spins around to face her and gives her a judgmental look. When he notices she is balancing on one foot he glances back up to her face questionably. She doesn't understand why he is looking at her in such a manner, but after a few moments of wonder she put two and two together and got four.

"Sorry, wet toe nails. Prom Dress is a complicated color and a great polish but its downfall is that it's not one of those quick drying ones…you know?" She smiles and shifts to her other foot, realizing that the balancing on one foot has caused lefty to cramp. She needs to give lefty a break. 'Besides' she figures 'her nails were about dry anyway'.

"It's your TV this time." It's more of a statement than a question but, it changes the subject. Otherwise she would go off on a tangent for a good fifteen minutes about nail polish, and well, as a man, he is oblivious. He starts to walk into the living room with her trailing behind him.

"Yep, Harold…He's sick." She pouts and plops down on the couch, watching Luke as he stares at the TV hoping the solution would present itself immediately. He always fells a bit uncomfortable being alone with her. Maybe because the thought of her makes his stomach flutter, whatever it is, he just doesn't want to take his chances. He is too afraid of what could become of it.

"Let me take a look…" He squats down and turns the TV on. All he gets is a fuzzy reception. He proceeds to hit it a few times.

"Hey, TV abuser, I'll have to sick Officer Crumpkee on your ass…" She sit up and grabs the nail polish again, and settles back to resume her art.

"It didn't work anyway…" He looks around the room for the remote, but doesn't have any luck locating it. He picks up a couple of pillows that were thrown on the floor, he still finds nothing.

"Looking for this?" Lorelai has the remote and is now waving it in the air. She is giving him a sly smile.

"What else would I be looking for here? I'm not a Cosmo or Vogue kind of guy." He begins to walk toward her.

"Oh honey, I know…The flannel and Baseball cap tipped me off a long time ago Mr. Lumberjack." At this point Luke was standing in front of her, his hand held out, waiting for her to supply him with the remote. She just sits there smiling up at him, grasping the remote tightly with her hand. Luke begins to tap his foot in frustration, uncomfortable with the situation that has presented its self. While Lorelai is looking at him in a way that makes him want to pin her down and have his way with her, but he knows she is doing this for fun. Testing him, playing her game. He doesn't move, he just waits, holds his ground, knowing that he isn't going to be the one to give in this time, it's her turn.

"I thought you wanted this." She says flirtatiously waving it above her head.

"I do…" He replies shifting his gaze to the floor. Then back into her eyes. He supposes he sees something there, right then, in her eyes. Maybe she is wanting him the way he is wanting her. The thought quickly escapes his mind though, when Lorelai tosses the remote at his chest, and returns her attention to her half painted toes.

"You're so serious Butch. Never join in the Lorelai games." He reaches down and grabs the remote. He can feel the warmth of her hand still lingering on the black plastic. It makes him smile. She notices this.

"I got Butch to smile!" She sings. "Yay! Oh, Butch you are so handsome when you smile." She jokes clutching her chest and almost dripping nail polish off the brush that rested between her fingers in her other hand. He scowls at her remark. He was joining in the Lorelai games…It was impossible not to. She always found a way to suck him in.

"Stop callin' me Butch. Brings back bad memories." He fiddles with remote in his hands, pressing buttons he doesn't even understand, hoping that in doing so, the TV would just fix itself.

"Bad memories…What kind of bad memories Butch?" She smiles mischievously, finishing her second to last toe.

"I didn't like high school that much, if you couldn't tell by now." He turns to her and locks her gaze for a brief second before bringing his awareness to the now flashing television.

"I didn't either…Well, I didn't get to experience much of it considering I was pregnant and AWOL for most of it." She places the brush into the bottle of polish and screws the lid on tightly before setting it on the coffee table. Thoughtfully she stretches her legs in front of her and surveys, studies, and critiques her work. "I don't' regret it though…I'm sure I would've been miserable anyway…Most people are miserable in high school…right?" She looks away from her toes and stares at his back. He shrugs his shoulders at her question and faces her.

"I was…yeah…I guess most people are…" He smiles at her then and she smiles back. They both become a little shy after the gesture and apply there attention else where.

"Hey, you thirsty? Want a beer or something?" She stands up from the couch and begins to make her way into the kitchen.

"Yeah, beer'll be good" He nods at her now retreating form. He brings himself to sit down at the couch and stares at the TV. "Come on Harold…work with me here."

TBC…