Work Text:
When their lips parted, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of his hair as if it was quenching a thirst. The intensely familiar scent was shot through with a tang of grill smoke, which only served to remind her that he had made it all happen, the magical scene playing out on the town square behind her.
“Luke…” was all she could manage. He laid the palm of his hand against her cheek, angled it upwards gently, and bent to kiss her again.
Despite her best efforts to hold them back, a couple of rogue tears brimmed over her eyes and she felt them trace hot steaks down her face.
“Lorelai," he murmured against her mouth. “Are you crying?”
She pulled back, swiping at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “It’s just…” she let out a shaky laugh as she gestured at the scene behind her. “All this. This incredible party. Rory leaving. And then the past few weeks, you and me.” Before he could ask more, she took a deep breath and said: “Just feeling like maybe there was something there, not knowing if you felt it too..."
"Lorelai--"
"--And I’ve tried to push all of it to the back of my mind, but I think..." she bit her lip, sheepishly, blinking back more tears. "I think the Walls of Jericho may be starting to crack.”
Wordlessly, he reached for her and drew her back to him, wrapping his arms around her as her cheek came to rest against his collarbone.
“I should have said something,” he exhaled. “I wanted to.”
She looked at him, eyes sparkling with keen, bird-like curiosity. “When?”
“When your dad was in the hospital,” he murmured. “I’d been kidding myself that we could go back to being friends, but the way I felt when I heard what had happened… Just thinking about you being there, how scared you must be feeling. And then actually seeing you…” He smiled down into her hair. “It was hopeless.”
“I wish you had told me.”
“Well, your dad was sick, it wasn’t the right time.” His voice lowered as he added: “And you were married.”
She tensed in his arms, suddenly transported back to that long night. “That was the moment I realised we could never make it work.”
Her voice was plaintive, and he hastened to change the subject. “And then there was that karaoke night…” he said, smiling as an involuntary cringe passed over her face.
“Luke,” she cut in, “you should know that if this is ever going to work, that topic is strictly verboten.”
“Why? You did a great job,” he teased. “That’s a hell of a song to sign yourself up for. Shows real confidence.” Then he added, serious and low: “I should have followed you.”
“I mean, how do you follow Dolly?” she mused. "I guess there's Patsy Cline, but I always pegged you for a Linda Ronstadt kind of guy."
He let out a little exhale of amused annoyance. “Followed you out.”
"Can you imagine if that had been what brought us back together? If we’d made it down the aisle, the guests would have been toasting us with tequila slammers instead of champagne. Although I'm not sure seeing me throwing up into the dumpster behind KC's would've exactly sent you rushing into my arms."
“Anyway, I waited way too long,” he said flatly. “I’m an idiot.”
“I think you might have competition there,” she said. When he looked at her quizzically, she went on: “I’ve been looking around for all these stupid signs, or signals, or whatever, waiting for some kind of magical clue that would prove you still…” She shook her head, glancing down at her feet, then looked up to meet his gaze. “When it’s everything. Everything you do for me, everything you have done.”
She leaned up and kissed him again, a gentle kiss that went on for a long time, before she finally stepped back. “I should…” she said, jerking her head vaguely towards the party in full swing a little way behind them.
He dropped his hands to his sides. “No, yeah!" he said, hastily. "You should get back over there. This is Rory’s night.”
“Right,” she said. The twinkle in her eye that made him want to reach out and grab her there and then. Instead, he cleared his throat.
“Do you think Rory would want to stop by the diner tomorrow, before you go?”
“Luke, she’d love it, but we’ve got to leave crazy early.”
“That’s fine.“
“Like, ‘on the road by six’ early—”
“—That’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” she said, taking the hem of his shirt in her hand and lightly twisting her fingers around the button. “Because the owner is kind of a grouch, and I know from personal experience that he doesn’t appreciate it when customers turn up on the doorstep demanding service way before opening time.”
“Private party.”
She dipped her head and touched her forehead lightly to his chest by way of thanks.
“Do you want me to drive you guys to the airport?” he said. “I mean, I’ll be up anyway, and you might be a little bit…”
“A little bit of an emotional wreck?” she finished the sentence with a smirk. “No. I actually think that knowing I have our lives in my hands is the only thing that’s gonna keep me from giving Margaret O’Brien a run for her money.”
“Okay - tomorrow, then. Oh,” he said suddenly as she turned to go. “I almost forgot this.” He slowly reached around to his back pocket, pulled out a long, slim jewellery box, and held it out towards her
“Oh,” she breathed, taking the box and turning over in her hands. Her thumbs moved to the join, ready to prise it open.
“No,” he said quickly, touching a finger to his lips. She looked up, startled. “Don’t open it now,” he added, more calmly. “At home.”
For once in her life, Lorelai Gilmore didn’t argue or tease or cajole, only slipped the box into the pocket of her jeans.
“And, Lorelai,” he added, in a meaningful tone. “If you like it... wear it.”
“Wear it?” she echoed, trying to grasp his intent.
“If you like it,” he repeated. “And if you don’t like it - you know, once you’ve had a chance to think it over…” As he paused, a comprehending smile spread over her face. “I just want you to know, there’ll be no hard feelings.”
“I’ll like it.”
A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t seen it."
She looked him in the eye, steadily. “I’ve seen it.”
*