Summary: Luke gets conned into giving Lorelai a massage. Written at xphile101's request, set pre-relationship (sometime in Season 2).

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"Aren't you supposed to be good with your hands, or something?"

"I run a diner. Flip burgers, serve coffee, it doesn't require much of the magic touch."

"Yeah, but you fix things. You fix porch rails and build chuppas and that, my friend, is a true gift."

"Thank you."

"So why can't you fix my damn spine?"

"Maybe because I'm not a chiropractor."

"Excuses."

How Luke had ended up sitting on the counter massaging Lorelai's shoulders remained a mystery to him. She had come storming in as he was closing for the night, a scowl on her face. His first mistake had been asking what was wrong, he now realized. Hindsight could be a bitch.

She'd ranted about problems at the Independence as he poured her coffee, nodding because it seemed the safest thing to do at the moment. To top it off, she had an appointment with a masseuse that afternoon that she'd had to cancel, which apparently was a big to-do in the Gilmore world. Luke tended to group massages in with facials and pedicures – things that were unnecessary in his life but seemed to be essential to most women. He'd said as much to Lorelai, only to get a glare and a comment that he must not know what it feels like to literally carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Exaggerated or not, that last part combined with the weary look on her face wore him down. "Maybe I could, y'know…" was all Lorelai needed to hear.

He'd ended up on the counter, with Lorelai on the stool in front of him, because it was the only position that seemed to work. He was trying very hard not to picture how this might look to an outsider, because as much as he didn't care what the residents of this kooky town thought about him, this wasn't something he wanted to be public knowledge.

And now she was bitching at him.

This could definitely be filed under "Stupid Crap Luke Does Because of His Thing for Lorelai Gilmore."

But then he had one hand between her shoulderblades and the other on the small of her back, and she sighed and declared that maybe he didn't suck at this as much as she thought he did. His fingers worked at the tense muscles up and down her back, and he thought he might be bungling the whole thing. His hands were too big and rough; he was clumsy, far from graceful. Not like her.

But she seemed more relaxed, at least. She dropped her head and leaned back into him as his hands massaged her shoulders and neck, a small sound of pleasure escaping her lips. The ends of her hair brushed his forearms, and it was all he could do not to gather it up in his hand. He'd always liked her hair, the color of it, the way it flew about as she talked, waving her hands around for emphasis, her eyes sparkling with laughter. He liked her eyes, too, how expressive they could be.

"Better?" he asked after several minutes.

"Much," Lorelai replied, her eyes shut. Her head had come to rest on his chest, and as he looked down into her face he wanted to tell her. Tell her that he liked her hair and her eyes; tell her everything. But she blinked her eyes open and the moment passed, as it always did.

"Thanks, Luke," she said as she was gathering up her things.

"Just don't tell anyone about this. Ever. And we'll be fine."

"Top-secret, got it." She smiled back at him as she moved to the door. "Y'know, you work pretty hard too. Let me know if you ever need some reciprocation."

"Uh, thanks," he said, as she waved and walked out into the night.

Reciprocation.

He might have to reevaluate his position on massages.

end