Comfort Food

Comfort Food

No to Coffee

The bell above the door broke the silence that had crept over the diner ever since he'd flipped the sign from 'open' to 'closed'. How long ago that was, Luke wasn't sure, but he knew it had to have been a while.

- It's closed, he said, not looking up.

He didn't need to. Knowing very well who it was and knowing that no matter what he did or say, it wouldn't matter. Five seconds later, he heard the familliar soft thump of her purse hitting the counter as she sat down. He still didn't look up, only turned around, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. Just the fact that she hadn't yet demanded it showed how much of a coffee-moment this was. From her not saying a single word, he knew that something was far from right. Putting aside the receipts he'd gone over and the rag he'd used to wipe the counter, he finally looked up, ready to give her his full attention.

- Lorelai, he asked.

She was being quiet, an ability he never knew she had. He knew she could shut her yap when listening to others... mostly. She could watch events and not speak... mostly. When a situation demanded silence, she could pull it off... mostly. But just randomly sitting in a place, doing nothing and yet not speaking? This was not part of the Lorelai Gilmore character description. So something was seriously wrong. He poured coffee into the largest vat he owned and placed it right in front of her. The smell reaching her nostrils alerted her enough to look down into the 'cup of death', as Luke so fondly called it. But she didn't lift it up to her lips, like she would in any other situation. He guessed this to be bad, as each other time he had done the same, she wouldn't even go as far as hesitate to take a sip.

- Got anything stronger, she asked, finally speaking.

- It's the strongest batch of coffee I've ever brewed, he pointed out. - Any stronger and I'm afraid I'll break the machine.

- I'm just not in a coffee mood, she shrugged.

- Should I be worrying, Luke asked, alerted by the statement.

- Depends, are you by any chance in posession of Tequila?

- Not down here, he answered.

Lorelai took but seconds to grab her purse and get up from her chair, heading towards the curtain. Luke watched her dumbfondly as she turned to face him.

- What are you waiting for, she asked.

Normally he would at least come with some objections when Lorelai got an idea into her pretty head, but before he could gather his thoughts she had grabbed onto his wrist, pulling him with her to his appartment. It wasn't the first time she had all of a sudden grabbed a hold of him. Nor was it the first time she had headed up to his place, with or without him. It was far from the first time she was in a bad mood, he'd known her for so long that he'd witnessed every single mood she could manage, which was quite a repertoire. Not even a combination of all mentioned above was new, so why was he feeling so surprised? Why was he feeling short of breath and nervous in her presence? Why did it take him two minutes to register that she'd asked him to bring forth the Tequila? And when he finally went and got it, why did he fetch two glasses, knowing that he had early deliveries the next morning?

He handed her a shot and poured himself one as well. Soon these questions were forgotten as Lorelai got closer to her chatty self. She told him about having to take care of a hysteric Sherry who didn't seem to be able to grasp the reality that she was having a baby. She told him about how she almost was forced to enter the delivery room to Rory's father's girlfriend, just to save her daughter from having to do so. She told him about how she had to first watch, then listen to Christopher's excitement over the whole situation, when he back when Rory had been born, had been nowhere to be seen until it'd been over. She confided in him how betrayed she had felt when Christopher had described Gigi as perfect, when he had said nothing to that degree when their own baby girl had been born. Each part of the story was interrupted by pouring themselves another shot. The last thing he remembered thinking before it all got fuzzy was he'd never seen Lorelai this down before.

His head felt heavy and twice as big when the alarm woke him at precisely four am. He could not remember when Lorelai had left during the night. He couldn't remember much of the night before, except for some of the events she had told him about during their incessant drinking. He started worrying about whether or not she got home okay, but with it being four am, he decided against calling her to check. He would worry if she didn't turn up for coffee in the morning, as he was sure she, too, had a massive hangover. Well, if that was the case, he would bring some over to her place.