...Mightier Than the Sword
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After Hours


by Mystic
Mysticxf@aol.com
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino, the people who portray the characters and make this wonderful show. I don't own any of it, but if I had my way, I would. Enjoy.
This is something that takes place after the final scene of "Forgiveness and Stuff", the quotes are probably off, but whatever, I was too lazy to check them when I wrote this two days ago at work and I'm too tired to do it now. :) It's silly, pointless fun.




"Luke," Lorelai whined, turning her body slightly. He went to switch off the lights, walking back to stand at her side as the people on the street made their way to the large tree. She glanced at him quickly, "The had looks good."

"Good, how?" Luke teased. He could see her cheeks redden slightly and he grinned, knowing she'd have no response. Or at least none that same minute. Luke knew better than to underestimate Lorelai Gilmore.

"It's pretty," she nodded her head to the people walking. They began practicing their lines, doing the motions of the play they were going to perform at Christmas time.

"It's two weeks early; it's not the real thing."

"Bah humbug!" She spat at him.

"What, can't a guy want the performance he sees to be the perfected one."

"In Stars Hollow? A perfect performance. Not gonna happen bub, they can't even find baby Jesus's arm," Lorelai laughed. "It's just the feeling of it. Don't you get that feeling?"

"Indigestion?"

She slapped his arm, "No, silly, that Christmas feeling. That warm fussy tickle in your stomach at the sight of small children looking into store windows wishing to see that toy under the tree on Christmas morning... that feeling of happiness when you hear Christmas songs on the radio and know that it's that time of the year again. That Christmas feeling."

"I get the feeling of sickness when I see commercials during cartoon shows pleading with children to annoy their parents to death. Then seeing the news reports afterwards of which toys have been recalled because of their danger to children. That horrible emptiness when you see dead trees lining the interstate from people who could care less about the fact that it was, at one time, a living thing. The poverty stricken people begging for money, the needy faces of fat children in some third world country, the parking lots full of greedy patrons buying too much only to complain later about the fact that they spend too much on people they don't even really care about, the..."

"Bah humbug!!" Lorelai shouted at him.

He clamped his mouth shut, crossing his arms on his chest.

She watched him, lowering her eyebrows, "You really hate Christmas, don't you?"

"I don't hate Christmas," he paused, "I hate what it's become."

"Become..." Lorelai prompted.

"It's no longer magical. It's all about the money now. All that warm and fuzzy stuff has been removed in place of commercialism."

"Well, it's not gone from my world," Lorelai said with a pout, "It's still magical for me."

"That figures," Luke laughed.

"Why?"

He shrugged, "Your speech a couple weeks ago, about the snow. You got this look in your eyes..."

"What looks?" She turned and stared at him, watching his face contemplate words painfully.

"You know when you have a little kid and they're seeing Disney World for the first time. They have this amazing look in their eyes. That's magical. That's what you looked like." He didn't look down at her, but stared straight, at the street in front of him. It was awkward talking to her like this. The lights down and the place empty, silent. With her that close to him.

"Amazingly magical," she repeated, smiling.

"Yeah."

"Who's lookin' good now..." Lorelai chuckled.

"Shut up," Luke mumbled.

"Seriously though, I looked amazingly magical?"

He shrugged, "You just looked like what Christmas should be like.

"Amazingly magical," she repeated again.

Luke watched her now, then warned, "Don't pat yourself on the back to hard, you might just hurt yourself."

Lorelai walked away from the window, "Fine, I won't, I'm going home since you don't find any of this remotely entertaining."

"Well, I find the thing out there not entertaining, in here, different story."

She smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, talking, talking is nice."

"Totally agree with you." Lorelai pulled her purse higher on her shoulder, "But I do have to go. Rory's waiting for me, I told her I'd be right back."

Luke nodded, "You could always say you had a coffee overdose, very believable."

Lorelai laughed, "Or, I could tell her that I got held up by Santa and his reindeer because they got lost on their way back to the north pole, 'cause we all know how difficult navigation-by-star can be, and they needed directions. Only I couldn't draw 'em a map, seeing as I'm directionally challenged on paper, so I had to get in the sleigh and take them home and..."

Luke waved an arm, "Lorelai!"

"What?" She asked.

"Stick with the coffee story."

"My other story wasn't believable?" She looked upset, but in that playful sort of way she had, he thought.

"Well, if Rory were still five, yes, but she's sixteen. I don't think reindeer are gonna get you anywhere."

"Fine," she pouted, "I'll just tell her the truth."

"Which is?" He questioned.

"I was at Luke's reveling in the fact that he finds me amazingly magical," she teased as she pushed open the front door, standing there to watch his reaction.

He rolled his eyes, pulling on the sides of his new cap, "Go home, Lorelai."

"Going," she pointed outside, but didn't budge.

"Then go," he nodded.

"Ok," she smiled, remaining.

"Lorelai," he pleaded, "I've gotta go home too."

"You could always make me a key," she offered, "Then I wouldn't have to bother you so much."

Luke looked at the floor. "That's kinds intimate, doncha think?"

She smiled, "Well, I am amaz..."

"Lorelai."

"I'm just saying, it'd make things a lot easier on you."

"I'll consider it, but you know, it takes the fun out of this."

"Us?" She gestured between the two of them.

"Yeah," he smiled, "Takes the fun out of fighting."

Lorelai lowered her eyebrows slightly, "We don't fight."

"No, we have interesting dialogue," he corrected.

She grinned, "Night, Luke."

He watched her exit and locked the door behind her, sighing as she hopped off the sidewalk and began to make her way towards her house. It hurt, not to say anything, but he knew he had to wait for the right moment, and after seeing her with Max, he knew now wasn't it. He walked back to the window and smiled at the people practicing their play, laughed when he saw them wave at Lorelai walking away.

Maybe there was some magic left in Christmas after all.




End, another short. See, the short story demon has been unleashed and it's making it hard to finish my long stories! Comments are appreciated! (2/2/2001)

Mystic
mysticxf@aol.com


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