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DISCLAIMER: ASP has them, I only play with her creations.
SUMMARY: A morning in Lorelai's life. Kinda. First one in a two-parter. Hopefully.
TIMELINE: It was going to be S5, but then it changed. *glares at grinning muse* I
think it's late S4.
WORDCOUNT: 897
DEDICATION: For FaithGirl and Lucey, because they are the sweetest!
*hugs* Merry Christmas, girls!
NOTES: Bert was the toolbox's name, wasn't it? I haven't watched S1 on ages.
MISUNDERSTANDING
by Leni
It's too early to be awake, Lorelai thinks with a scowl as she goes down the stairs. But
there's an inn to run, bills to pay and a world to face. Why it can't wait another hour is
something Lorelai has never been able to understand.
She walks into the kitchen with eyes half-closed, switches on the coffeemaker without even
thinking of it. Too early, she grumbles as she opens the refrigerator, sleepily palming
around for something edible that didn't expire two weeks ago without her permission. Today
Lorelai settles for a ham sandwich, mood slightly improved at the thought of a full belly
and... She checks behind her. Yes, and fresh coffee ready to be drunk. So far, so good.
Now it's only a matter of showering while she decides on today's wardrobe. Maybe a red
skirt and a black shirt, so Michel can scream about how they aren't in Amsterdam and can't
she have more cloth in her clothes? Nah, too easy. Nowadays Michel takes a look at her
skimpy clothes and lifts his nose before turning around. Bo-o-ring.
A knock on her door. Huh? She leaves her sandwich on the table, turns around mid-sip.
Luke? Why...?
Luke rolls his eyes at her, gestures at his watch and then at the doorknob. Lorelai
correctly translates that he wants in and that, though she has no idea what for, she's
late. Curious, Lorelai rises to open the door, finally noticing that Luke has Bert*
at his side. Boy, she thinks as she focuses on his too awake expression, Luke sure looks
moody today. Shoving the niggling feeling of guilt aside (Lorelai always feels guilty when
Luke is moody, or deeply amused. Then guilty for being amused. It's really complicated to
be Lorelai.), she opens the door with a flourish. "What's up?"
Luke walks into her kitchen, placing his trusty toolbox on the table, and rounds to face
her. "What took you so long." He glances at his watch. "It's eight a.m.
Don't tell me to come at seven when you know you'll be asleep. You should know there's no
way to wake you up. Not known to man, at least. You have to be the heaviest sleeper in
Conneticut, Lorelai." He breathes, she's always amazed how long he can go without it
when he's in a mood. Makes her feel proud. "Why tell me to come at seven if you
wouldn't be up until eight?" He is glaring at her now. Uh oh, a glaring Luke always
means he's very pissed off. Otherwise she'd get away with a shake of his head and a
half-heard lecture.
"I..."
"I have a business," he keeps on, obviously still not noticing that Lorelai has
no idea what he's raging about. "People come to my business at a specific hour and I
wouldn't leave César alone unless necessary. You told me my presence was necessary so I
came, now, can you expl---"
"Wait." She actually takes his wrist between her hands. It's one of the few ways
to stop a Luke tirade. "I called you? When? How? Where? What for?"
Luke takes a deep breath. "Yesterday night. On the phone, how else? Where, no idea,
though I heard Sookie singing in the background." He shudders almost imperceptibly.
"As for your motive, you just said you needed me, and I quote, desperately today at
seven o'clock." His eyes study her for a moment, then he sighs. "Which you
obviously didn't."
Lorelai blinks, she's still on the 'I called him?' page.
Luke looks around, inspecting his surroundings with a critical eye. "So, no broken
windows, unhinged doors, flaming kitchens or dripping sinks for me to repair?"
She shakes her head, almost sorry. He sounds so hopeful. Anyway, "I called you?"
Luke looks at her, self-righteous anger replaced by a slight - more manageable, it seems -
annoyance. "Yes, yesterday." He takes a step closer to her, his eyes searching
her face carefully. "Have you been drinking?"
Lorelai's eyes widen. "What? No!" Then she remembers. "Oh."
Sookie's birthday. Celebrating it with Miss Patty and Babette. Drinking. Sookie gushing
about her marriage. Drinking. Babette remembering her good times with Murray. Getting to
first name basis with the waiter. Miss Patty remembering the good times, period. With an
amazingly descriptive flare. Fishing her cell phone from her purse and walking away from
the table. "Ooooh," she repeats, looking anywhere but at Luke's half-annoyed,
half-curious face. He'll never forgive her for this one. "Oops?"
Luke throws his arms in the air, dislodging her grasp on his wrist with the harsh
movement. He points an accusing finger at her, "Whatever you were doing, never tell
me." He takes Bert again, mumbling under his breath. "Next time you call
me," he says sternly, "I'm double; no, make it triple-checking that
you're sober." And with that he goes off.
Lorelai stands still in the middle of her kitchen, her half finished coffee already
lukewarm and tasteless in her hand. She looks down at it, then at the door Luke just left
through. Laughs.
He closed the door behind him. Not slammed, not threw it carelessly as he went. Lorelai
smiles, biting happily into her sandwich. He'll forgive her soon enough, if he hasn't
already.
As to why she called him yesterday night, Lorelai frowns before shrugging the
incident away. She's never drinking five tequilas in a row again.
The End.
23/12/04
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