A/N: First off, I should point out that while it is true that I like The Offspring way better than Metallica, I don't like Chris one little bit. Just trust me that if you stick with it, his true personality (in my humble opinion) will emerge. Trust, people! It's a wonderful thing!

Secondly, I'm a review addict. I am starting to conquer my coffee addiction, but my review addiction just won't budge. So help me feed the addiction, or I may resort to harder drugs (kidding!).

Thirdly, if you're going 'I've read this somewhere before', that's because part of it is already up on BWR. Just spreading the love here, peeps.

And lastly, enjoy!!

***Lorelai's Mistake***

Lorelai shivered and sat up, reaching out for her clothes. She picked up a shirt and threw it at Chris. He groaned as he sat up. She looked at him as she got dressed, wondering why having sex on her balcony in the middle of January had seemed such a good idea ten minutes ago. Now – not so much. They were only just sheltered from the snow by the third floor balcony, and she was pretty sure that her back would never defrost from where it had been laying on the cold tiles.

She crawled back through the window, and sat on her bed. She watched as Chris made his way back into her bedroom, a pleased look on his face. She rolled her eyes to herself. God, boys were so easily pleased. Not exactly how she had planned to spend tonight though. Sure, she had been all for sneaking out of her parents boring party to go make out, but she hadn't planned on taking it this far.

"Uh... I should probably get back downstairs," she said, not really to Chris, more to herself. She pulled her unruly hair up onto her head, and quickly pushed some hairpins into it, hoping that it would be tidy enough to please her mother.

"Yeah, of course... sure," Chris almost stuttered, looking in her mirror, attempting to tie his tie. Lorelai grew even more frustrated watching him fumble with it, groaned, and walked over to do it for him. His fingers fumbling on his tie were very reminiscent of how his fingers were behaving a few minutes earlier.

"There," she said shortly when she was finished.

"Thanks, Lor. Um... this was great," he blushed.

She turned her back on him and started to walk to the door. As she opened it, she turned back to him, and forced a smile. "Yeah. It was," she lied, making sure to keep the smile fixed firmly on her face.

She stood in the upstairs hall for a minute, giving Chris a head start. Not only because she didn't want to look suspicious coming down together, but because she wanted to be alone. She didn't want him treating her like she was another one of his possessions. She knew that she would flinch at the feel of his hand on the small of her back. She just didn't want to be around him right now. But the thing was, she didn't know why. This was Christopher – her Christopher. He loved her, and she loved him. They were like the golden couple of the sophomore class. Had been friends forever, and dating for a year and a half. It was natural that their relationship would take that next step. And she had wanted it. If she didn't, she could have said no, and he wouldn't have minded at all. It was the way she had been flirting and teasing all night that told her that she had wanted it.

So why did she now feel so weird? Almost empty? She had thought that having sex would bring them closer together – that he would love her even more. But instead, it seemed to have put more distance between them. No, that wasn't right. Chris seemed exactly the same. The distance seemed to be only in her.

Lorelai really wished that she hadn't been the first of her friends to lose her virginity. She wanted someone else to talk to about this. Normally, she would talk to Chris about everything – but that wasn't possible in this situation, was it? How could she explain to him that she was already regretting what they had done?

She took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, trying her hardest to look innocent – like she had just been in the bathroom, freshening up, or taking a phone call. She saw Chris standing across the room in a group of their friends. He shot her a huge grin, and waved her over to them.

"Here," he whispered to her when she arrived at his side. He glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, and handed her a silver flask. She took a long swig, and handed it back to him. As he put it back in his pocket, Mitchell Frist wandered over to them casually.

"We're starting a sub-party in the poolhouse. You guys coming?" he asked the group. Everyone nodded and wandered off in the direction of the door.

"I'll go steal some booze from the kitchen," Lorelai told them as they departed, and extricated herself from Christopher's grip. She furrowed her brow trying to work out how long he had been draping his arm over her shoulders.

"Don't be too long," he grinned at her. "You don't want us to die of thirst."

"No I don't." She looked him over. "Because what would Belle Watling's fine establishment be without copious amounts of alcohol?"

He smiled at her. "Well, if you manage to see Belle on your travels, can you ask her to provide us with an alibi? I hear that she's pretty good at that."

She relaxed. "Naturally." She hadn't thought that he would have got that reference, and the fact that he did somehow made her smile.

She walked into the kitchen with an air of authority which she modelled on her mother, so that the servers wouldn't question her when she walked out with the champagne. She was just about to leave when her mother herself walked in, yelling at the help. She quickly placed the bottles on the counter behind her, and turned to face her mother.

"Lorelai," Emily exclaimed. "I was just speaking to Francine Hayden. We were saying that it seems that you and Christopher are getting quite serious."

Lorelai looked her mother up and down. She couldn't remember any time that her mother had been interested in her life, and it really threw her for a moment. "Um... I suppose so." She wondered where Emily was going with this.

"I believe that this relationship could be quite beneficial for both of our families. The Haydens are very influential at the club – your father would appreciate the improved tee-times that an association with Straub could bring."

The light went on in Lorelai's head. So her mother didn't care about her life – she only cared about what she could get out of it.

Emily continued, "Maybe you could mention something to Christopher."

"Uh, maybe, mom." She tried to change the subject. "Oh, did that waiter just walk out with a half empty tray?"

That worked. "Argh! What do I need to do to get some decent staff?" she groaned, and stormed after the offending waiter.

Lorelai sighed and headed out the back door with four bottles of bubbly – the most she could carry. Why did she always want her mother to care about her life? Time after time, she would get her hopes up that she could have a normal mother-daughter relationship, and only to get her hopes dashed. It was just like when she was in kindergarten, and would come home with a painting she had made of her family, proud as punch, and her mother would glance at it before shooing her up to her bedroom to 'play quietly'.

As she entered the poolhouse, she plastered the happy-party-girl face on. "Who's ready to party?" she squealed at the gathered group of kids. A cheer rose up. She handed over three of the bottles to a couple of guys, but hugged the last bottle to her chest. "This one is all mine," she grinned at them, popping the cork out, and taking a large gulp straight out of the bottle. She savored the feeling of the drink flowing down her throat, knowing that it wouldn't be long before she was completely drunk. The half bottle of scotch she and Christopher had shared upstairs was also helping. Inebriation was the best way to forget about her callous mother and what she had just done with Christopher.

After several long swigs of the champagne, Culture Club came on the stereo, and Lorelai grabbed the closest person to her to dance with, continuing to drink from the bottle as she danced. When the song finished, she collapsed on the sofa, and Christopher came and sat next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders. She looked at her boyfriend.

"Hey. I know you."

Christopher laughed. "Yip. I'd say you know me quite well." A small blush crept over his cheeks.

She remembered what had happened earlier that evening, and giggled, before falling towards him, and kissing him hard. Christopher was not going to be the one to stop her, and they kept making out until she sat up quickly several minutes later, and ran from the room. Christopher followed her, and found her on the bathroom floor throwing up. He sat down next to her, and rubbed her back.

"You okay, Lor?" he asked her when she quietened down.

"Mmmhmmm," she mumbled.

"Let's get you up to bed," he suggested, and led her out of the poolhouse, and towards the kitchen door, and the back stairs, hoping that they wouldn't run into any adults they knew.

"You're too good to me," Lorelai muttered as they climbed the stairs.

"That's cause I love you, Lor," he explained simply.

"Uh huh," she agreed, noticing how she didn't say anything about her loving him. Even in her drunken state, she realized the Freudian nature of what she had, or hadn't, said.

Lorelai woke the next morning, confused. She didn't know how she had gotten into her pyjamas and into bed, but presumed that Christopher had done it. There was also a big glass of water and some asprin sitting on the bedside table. She sat up slowly, and consumed the water and asprin, before falling back against the pillows again. She lay there thinking about the night before – what she remembered of it, anyway. Knowing how much Christopher cared for her, she made a conscious decision to ignore that nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her something wasn't right. It would just be easier. This wasn't a fairy tale – nothing in her life was at all like a fairy tale, so why should a high school romance be any different? The simple facts were this: Christopher loved her; she really liked him, and could fall in love with him given time. No problems. Life was good.