Spontaneity

Pairing: Luke & Lorelai

Genre: Romance

Setting: Nothing in particular. After Max, after Rachel. Before Nicole, before Alex, no Sherry.

Summary: No one would dub Luke spontaneous. No one would dub Lorelai well planned. So why is it Luke who kisses Lorelai in the middle of an argument, and not the other way 'round?

Note: (A) Hmmm, it's okay, I guess, but no one seems to know exactly what's wrong with it. Gimme lotsa feed back and I'll edit it more.

(B) Yay! Babette and Patty and town folk. Who doesn't love them?

(C) Next chapter I'm pretty sure we're getting action. I swear it, just working on that one, specific scene in my mind… :D

Disclaimer: The usual. I don't own nothin' so don't sue.

Spontaneity

Chapter 4: Independency

If there's one thing that Stars Hollow prides itself on being as a whole, it's their teamwork. It shows up in many places, but probably most of all in the grapevine. News spreads like wildfire, and it's because everyone helps that it could happen like that. When Jess left for the last time, only a handful of town's folk saw it happen. Yet it took one step to get to Rory. Two steps to get to Lane. Three to get to everyone in Stars Hollow High. It could continue on like that forever, even if there are quicker paths.

It's like an unspoken agreement that everyone should work as a team to create festivals and dances and rumors. Yet there are rebels. People who decide that the team atmosphere is too hard, or too silly, or too much. Jess hadn't wanted to participate. He hated it; he wouldn't pass on gossip, he wouldn't go to dances. Yet in the wooing of Rory Gilmore, he listened to this gossip, and he went to these dances and somehow he got caught up in it.

Lorelai hated it as well, though for different reasons. She had always been stubbornly independent. Not everyone can run away from home at sixteen and make a life for themselves. She wouldn't take help from anyone, she accepted no pity, and she would like to think that she needs no one.

In a sense it is good, to be able to take care of yourself, to get yourself out of any mess you put yourself into. In another sense it can kill you. If you don't need help, fine; tell everyone you want. But you also don't need television, or a huge house, or a boyfriend. And perhaps that is what Lorelai doesn't see. She can't see past the need into the want, and when want eventually turns back into need, it gets complicated, especially if you didn't see it in the first place.

It is this characteristic that gets Lorelai so upset whenever she fights with Luke. Because when she doesn't go into the diner every second night, or get a large mug of coffee and a Danish on Tuesday, she starts to feel something that she hates. A little tugging in the back of her mind that hurts. And it cries out that maybe for once she should see past the needs and the wants and the independence and just be closer to him.

---------------

Babette stared out her window, watching Lorelai walk from her Jeep into her house, sky dark and mood even darker. After the first time it happened – Sunday night – Babette started keeping tabs on Lorelai; where she went at night, who she was with, and why it was that she came home in a silent huff, saying barely more than a word to her daughter.

It was the second time it had happened, that Tuesday night, and had Babette been a little smarter, she would have recognized that two nights is not enough to make a pattern. Perhaps then she wouldn't have known the truth, as Patty reported to her that the last place Lorelai went was Luke's.

"Cinnamon, dear," She addressed the cat, as Morey was already asleep, not up to staking out their neighbor's house, "Luke and Lorelai have had another fight. Terrible, isn't it?" The cat replied with only a long 'meow.' "I know, I know. I hate it too."

Rubbing up against her owner's legs, Cinnamon meowed again, loud and shrill and piercing. "Oh, dear, I bet you're just starved. Come on, come on, we'll get you some tuna…" Her thoughts were split between the process of opening a fresh can of tuna, and just which of the two friends had started the fight.

Had the tuna not been particularly unhelpful, and Cinnamon not exercising her vocal cords so, Babette could have found a little more clarity to the situation at hand. But as it were, the sight of Luke's truck pulling up next to Lorelai's jeep, but simply sitting in the drivers seat, not moving, went unseen. And the sound of the engine dying down, and then roaring up almost immediately as he pulled away without ever leaving the car went unheard.

The next day Babette and Miss Patty stood across the street from the diner, looking inconspicuous as they discussed the fight. "There was shouting."

"Which one?"

"Luke," Miss Patty took another drag of her cigarette, "He was shouting about some girl. Some other girl. Melanie or something. It was terrible." Both looked to the diner, where Luke was serving a family of four. In his rush a plate dropped, not cracking, but the food spilling everywhere. Both sighed at the sight.

They started over to the dance studio, walking slow and deliberately, more worried about not hearing each other than getting there before noon. "I just hate it when they fight. Have you told Casini yet? You know she loves those two."

Miss Patty shook her head, the movement closely followed by blowing two large smoke circles. "Did you catch Lorelai this morning?"

"She must have gotten up at dawn to get to that Inn. Did you catch Rory?"

"She jumped on that bus like no tomorrow. I'm not as young as I was once."

Babette cocked her head to one side, shifting her jaw from side to side in an act of decision-making. "We could…" There was a moment of indecisiveness, as she was about to not suggest the idea, and then she changed her mind at the last second as the words spilled out of her mouth, almost regardless of her mind. "…You know, ask Luke."

"Oh please, last night was the most words I ever heard come out of that mans mouth."

She responded quickly, the accusing tone bringing a slight flush to her cheeks. "Yeah, yeah," she said slowly. "Of course."

Three more smoke circles flew to the air before Miss Patty continued, ignoring her friend's slight embarrassment. "Samson's with Delilah now. They went out to some exotic resort for the weekend…"

--

There was a slight pause at the door of the Inn's kitchen, as Lorelai thought once again about whether talking to Sookie about the fight was a good idea. It was inevitable that she would find out, but the exact details of the fight – the story that only Luke and Lorelai knew about – was possible to be kept secret.

She didn't like the feeling of indecisiveness; she preferred to just walk straight in, decisions and discussions to be made later. To think things over, to talk things over, meant that she would suddenly rely on time, and people, and outside help, to make any decision. And every second she stood at the door, thinking about independence, she cursed the swelling in her stomach that said she could handle it herself. Which is why she moved through the door quicker than necessary, knowing that waiting had never helped.

As soon as she entered the room, Sookie ran up to her, spoon in hand. "Oh! Lorelai, try this." Before any decision could be made, the spoon entered her mouth, and the contents spilled out. The taste filled her mouth, warm and delicious.

"Mmmm." Lorelai's hand went up to her mouth, unconscientiously catching a drip. As the food went down her throat, an aftertaste filled her mouth, only slightly different: not so warm, but equally delicious. "Mmmm."

"It's the chives." Her friend explained excitedly, moving back to the stove at which she was situated before Lorelai entered. "I found the exact right amount, and it's perfect."

"Where's Michel?"

"He's out back." Lorelai glanced at Sookie, as if asking why. "His dog sitter backed out, so he brought Paw-Paw, and, uh, the other one, here. I can never remember the other one's name. It's something about a face…" Sookie paused. "They're getting settled in."

"Right, right." Lorelai replied, absentmindedly, thinking about the fight, and just how often Luke was on her mind. "So, uh, anything happening lately?" She hated avoiding the topic, and it made that swelling in her stomach larger and more uncomfortable.

Sookie's head turned, looking at Lorelai with concern. "You alright, honey? You look a little flushed."

It was true; a pinkish tone had risen to Lorelai's cheek that morning, when she had relived the details of the last night in her mind. At first it was vague, almost as if it was a dream, or a childhood memory, the edges fuzzy and everything discreet. But then, slowly, becoming clearer, until there were parts where she could pick out the small details; position of salt and pepper shakers, unclean mugs on the counter, the placement of Luke's hands as he shouted…

"Um, no, actually." She smiled weakly, her head cocked slightly to the side. "I don't know… You know, Luke went out on a date last Friday night?" Sookie could have answered, with stories of Rory and predictions and Luke, but kept silent as Lorelai continued. "And, God, I'm just so peeved about it. I mean, Rachel; that was different, Rachel had history. This girl, she just walks straight into his life. No one ever walks straight into Luke's life, it's, like, a rule or something."

"Is this a bad time to say that guys walk into your life all the time?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Lorelai's mouth, small and appreciative. "Not really. Good time, even. Maybe." The corners of her mouth dropped again, as she sighed. "We had a fight. Last night."

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes flew to the ceiling, searching. "It's just that I hate fighting, and…" And it was what we fought about, she wanted to say, truthful and outright. But that 'and' just hung in the air, neither knowing quite what would become of it.

"Ugh." Her eyes lowered again. "I guess I'll just apologize in a few days, and then… We'll see."

Sookie concentrated on her friend, Lorelai's eyes rising and dropping and looking extremely uncomfortable about the topic she herself had brought up. "Don't worry, Luke'll come around. He always does." Lorelai's eyes moved to her friend, bright and shining, and at first glance they could be considered happy. Sookie knew better. "It can't be that bad, right?"

"Bad things were said."

"Well…" The friend paused, considering her options of reply. "You haven't sworn off coffee, have you?"

--

Her skirt fluttered slightly in the breeze, though more from the pace at which she was walking. A pair of chunky black high heels were clutched in one hand, swinging along with the beat of walk. "And to think," Lorelai said spitefully, more to the shoes than anything else, "I thought they would be more comfortable."

Her eyes skittered around the landscape: gazebo, dance studio, Luke's… She told herself not to look too hard at the sign; it was obviously open. Guttural laughter could be heard even where she walking, and the many animated figures were not subtle at all.

It's a good sign, Lorelai forced herself to think, it can't be that bad if he didn't close it up.

Yet she still searched the diner hurriedly with her eyes, never wavering her pace. She picked up several familiar figures, sitting down at tables, talking without a care in the world.

And then she saw the female, a brunette, obviously speaking to someone at the counter. The baggy jeans gave it away, as did the three-quarter-length top, and the way she was leaning in toward whoever was behind the counter.

Good sign?

--

The market was unusually full for a Thursday night, Lorelai and Rory mulling around the junk food section, causing a long bottleneck of traffic behind them. Rory's basket was full – drinks and chips and savories – while Lorelai's was empty as she stood still, picking out items of much-processed food, before deciding against it and placing it back on the shelf.

Rory glanced nervously at the angry crowd behind them; slowly littering through the one-person gap her mother had left. "Mom, I think they're getting feisty." Somewhere in the crowd a fist was shaking angrily in air, the actual shouting inaudible.

"Honey, did I not raise you right?" She looked incredulously at her only daughter. "Picking out junk food is an art. It cannot be rushed." Her gaze returned to the numerous bags of marshmallows and chocolates. "See, I can't get the pink marshmallows, because that'll clash with the water crackers –"

Rory's eyebrows furrowed, "I didn't get water crackers."

"You didn't? Well, that changes everything…" And with that she returned the one bag of marshmallows she did have back to the shelf. "I'll have to start again…"

Half an hour later they found themselves a spot at the back of the amazingly long lines to the registers. Both mother and daughter's eyes scanned the crowd, mostly the folk who were at the front of the line. "No, look Mom, that's Babette, she'll take forever, we should go to 3."

Sighing, they moved to line number 3, still scanning the lines. "This line has…" Lorelai's eyes locked on the back of Luke's head, and moved immediately to the three small boxes in front of him.

On her tiptoes, Rory questioned. "Who? I can't see."

"Uh, Luke."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Well…" Rory bit into her cheek, thinking. "What's he buying?"

"Um… Three things, I think. Yeah… One, two… Yeah. One looks like Band-Aids. Yeah, definitely Band-Aids. The other might be food. Vegetable stock? Maybe. Not sure… Um, the last one looks like… Oh…" Lorelai had also been on her tiptoes, trying to gain the right line of sight to make out words on the three small boxes, but suddenly she stopped, dropping back to her heels quickly, frowning.

They shuffled along, Luke leaving the head of the line, walking out the door, leaving only four more people in front of the Gilmore girls. "What? What was it?"

"You know what, honey? Don't worry, it was probably just… Don't worry." She was still frowning, and didn't really look her daughter in the eye.

"Mom!"

"I don't know," She side glanced across the room, looking for a distraction. "I didn't really see it, it could have been anything."

"Liar!" Rory started out to make it a shout, but at the last second quieted down so that her mother only heard it. She leered at Lorelai, the basket of food swaying in the process. "Liar, liar, liar, liar." She chanted in a whisper, as Lorelai glanced around nervously.

Lorelai brought her hand to Rory's face, giving it a silent push. "Alright, alright. You're scaring me, freakshow."

Rory gave a smug smile, happily moving up one more place in the line.

"Fine. You know that secret stash in the back that Phil stocks – Taylor doesn't know about, and I've been waiting for years for him to find out. You can only check out those items to Phil, and -"

"What? No! Phil isn't a rebel! He's such a softy."

"There is a side to Phil you never knew."

She turned on her heel, grabbing Lorelai's arm as she went. "Come on!" She whined, tugging at the immovable arm, "Show me where it is!"

Clicking her tongue softly against the roof of her mouth, Lorelai spoke words of wisdom as Rory and herself scuffed slowly along, gaining one more spot on the line. "Leave the line not once you are two people deep." A hand gestured to the three towns folk already lined up behind, one checking his watch and muttering about television shows.

"Fine," Rory huffed, turning back around and looking at her mouth pointedly. "But don't think you've lost me, I still want to know what Luke bought."

Laying a hand on Rory's shoulder, Lorelai said, "You are your mother's daughter."

"Pfft. Back to the topic, please."

"Phil holds many a secret back there; sugary gum and apple plum and those chips that he stopped stocking when Patty got addicted –"

Rory gasped. "No!"

"- Sad but true." Lorelai continued. "But he also stocks practical things, items that should be sold, but aren't because Taylor is, well, ignorant and likes it that way. Things like… Condoms."

It took a moment to sink in, exactly what Lorelai was implying, but eventually Rory twitched visible, before practically shouting to the entire supermarket that "Luke's buying condoms!"

The whole room went silent, as it were everyone was hoping for a little more information. Rory's gaze shifted nervously around the full area, walking forward a few steps in the line modestly.

"Louder next time, honey. I don't think people four blocks away heard you."