Title: Newton's Law Reversed

Author: Connecticut Junkie ()

Summary: Lorelai and Luke reach their breaking point, eliciting confessionsand perhaps more. Post Season 2.

Disclaimer: The WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino, among other entities, own all characters. They are not mine. The stuff I own is far less interesting (though far more material).

Distribution: If anyone would like to put this up on a site, please let me know- just so I can learn of new places to go.

Rating: Nothing you wouldn't see on the show. PG I guess.

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Chapter One: Reaction

It wasn't even the fight that fueled his grudge anymore. The fight had pushed him into a bad place, where everything was bitter and nothing gave him hope. Luke had always thought that one day, their lives would cease the random shuffling and fall into place, and she would be his the way he was already hers, even if she didn't know it.

Patience was a virtue he had in a healthy amount, and he preferred to let things follow their own course, rather than shaping them to his will. He was a preservationist in lifestyle issues in addition to environmental ones. Change, more often than not, brings consequences. Let the river carve its own path; it was a sentiment he believed in.

That was one of the reasons he didn't pursue her; he always thought that one day, it would just happen. But instead, the opposite happened, so slowly he didn't even realize it until it was, of course, too late. Christopher, Max, that goddamn kid from her class, and he should have seen it coming. The Anyone But Him syndrome that resided in her. He was good enough to give her coffee, and she needed him to feed her, and she used him to sharpen her flirting skills, but that was all she would ever see him as. Luke, her friend that runs a diner.

But he still hoped, harboring it like a dirty secret. If something was meant to happen, then it would happen. It was the closest thing to faith he had. But that night, that horrible night, had shattered the last of his hope, and turned his back to faith.

He hated himself after that almost as much as he had loved her. Hated his stupidity for taking so long to finally see it, and his cowardice for never acting on it once he knew. Whose fault was it but his own?

He couldn't forgive her because he couldn't forgive himself for loving her. She asked him that one night, when she'd come into the diner near closing without her usual vivacity and razor-sharp wit. Luke had never seen her look so tired, or alone; it had made him ache inside for the way things used to be.

She had just lingered in his doorway, and he stayed behind the counter, while both took in the sight of the other one and silently noted the changes. Before he could give her a gruff inquiry, she'd asked him, point blank, why he wouldn't forgive her. And those words, the answer, had burned in his throat, and danced on his tongue, but his mouth refused to open. When it finally complied, and Because I loved you, rang out in the silence of the empty diner, she had already turned and walked out minutes before.

So the few times he saw her, he was courteous but cold, talking like a stranger to the woman he cared for more than himself. He almost gave in, his resolution dissolving further every time he saw her.

But when Sookie had accidentally mentioned the Christopher/wedding fiasco when she'd returned from her honeymoon, it fortified him. How many times did Lorelai have to be disappointed by that good for nothing excuse of a man before she would learn? She'd repeat the same mistake over and over, but wouldn't even give Luke one chance. So he couldn't feel sorry for her; her hurt couldn't be nearly as deep as his own. He was fully aware of how selfish he was being, but apathy allowed him the freedom to bask in his self-centered thoughts.

And bask in it he did. She could pout and whine and play cute and cry all she wanted, but it would make no difference. He'd already made his choice; he'd rather die bitter and alone, like his uncle, than be buried with a broken heart. At least this way, she might miss him, and regret the choice she never made.

With an angry swat he turned out the lights of the diner, and stomped up the stairs to his small apartment and his tiny bed. He hated feelings.

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Lorelai sighed and grabbed another Oreo out of the bag, her eyes never leaving the screen where poor little Julia Roberts was busy with her diabetes. See, that was a problem. Dylan McDermott was your super-hot hubby, but you were dying. Not this stupid Luke thing, that wasn't a real problem. She sighed again and reached for yet another Oreo.

The house felt so empty with Rory in Washington; she felt so empty with Rory in Washington. In the course of a month, she'd managed to lose a close friend and her daughter. Maybe that's why she was trying to fill herself with Oreos. Was Rory the chocolate cookie, and Luke the white cream filling? Was it the other way around? Was she losing her mind due to toxic levels of sugar in her bloodstream? What the hell was wrong with Luke?

She didn't know what to do; she'd apologized, written him a letter, smiled and pleaded and begged and pouted and nothing worked. The towel was officially thrown in; she'd given up on him. It was his move, but she was afraid he would never make one.

Now, if she asked for coffee, assuming she could even bring herself to go into the diner, he didn't tell her how unhealthy it was, or refuse to give her refills. He just filled the cup and left. Maybe he wanted her dead. Everyone- well not everyone but enough people- said that he liked her, so why wouldn't he just forgive her and be nice to her and give her coffee and pancakes and grudging smiles and banter and everything could be like it was before? Why couldn't Michael J. Fox drive his Delorean up her driveway and tell her that if she helped him rescue the Doc, he'd take her back in time so she could fix this horrible, nasty gash in her life before it ever happened? Why couldn't she stop watching Steel Magnolias' every single night?

Because, the empty spot inside her answered, it gives you an excuse to cry. More Oreos, please.

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