DISCLAIMER: The characters depicted in this story belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino, Warner Bros., HBO and Michael Patrick King… along with anybody else who has a little share in both Gilmore Girls and the other mystery fandom.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Set sometime after I Can't Get Started episode on Gilmore Girls. This came up as a random thought based on a challenge I received from Ubiquitousmixie. All too often I get carried away with things and immediately the small drabble that this was supposed to be turned out to be a mile long series in my head. Hopefully there's a nice surprise in the middle. Thanks to my lovely beta and best friend Toni, who has managed to sieve through my mistakes caused by a 2am writeathon. And also, thanks to Nate who told me that I was a good writer and brought up my otherwise suffering self-confidence tremendously. Any comments, please send to Napoleon_glasshouse@msn.com. Enjoy!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Blue-Blooded Connection
By Miekhead
Chapter One – A Welcome Handlebar To Hold
"I can't talk to you right now," Lorelai Gilmore sniffled down the phone as the father of her teenage child groveled during what was possibly the fourth phone call within ten minutes.
"Please, just let me explain..." Christopher sounded desperate.
Lorelai gritted her teeth. "Just leave me alone, I'm driving." She hung up angrily and focused on the road, trying not to let the tears cloud her vision. She hadn't expected it, but the man had just come out with it... so out of the blue. And she had been so happy…The fact that he had the guts to say that he couldn't decide who to go back to was just a kick in the gut. You just don't say that to somebody, even if you are coming to terms with your own feelings. You don't leave someone hanging like that.
You just don't.
The distraught woman let out a harsh sob and pulled over onto the emergency lane, realizing that she couldn't see. Her shoulders shook and she took in some deep breaths, trying to focus her tired eyes. Leaning on the steering wheel she let out as many tears as she could before indicating to get back onto the freeway. She wasn't safe and though she didn't really care, she knew she shouldn't do anything stupid.
Looking ahead she saw a sign and nodded, changing lanes until she found an exit to get onto the next freeway. She had no idea what she was doing but in her saddened state knew that she needed to get away - and merging onto Saw Mill Parkway was the best thing to do.
One hour later and she was standing in Manhattan on Lexington Avenue, having parked hazily in a private car park up the road. Coffee… that was all she needed and, without a care in the world, she walked around for what seemed like hours until she saw the Starbucks on Park Avenue and cried out in relief.
Stepping out into the road Lorelai jumped suddenly when a car screeched in front of her within a hairs distance of her legs and beeped its horn as it pulled an emergency stop. She stood motionless, her whole body frozen as she contemplated about what had just happened and how close she was to have nearly been hit. The beeping continued a few cabs down and she felt more tears running down her face, wondering what the hell she should do. The dark thoughts that entered her head didn't help any and she stared vacantly into the first driver's face, almost daring him to put his foot down.
She was unexpectedly tugged off the road by strong arms and watched in pure silence as the traffic started to move once more, hurling abuse at her in confused anger.
"What the hell were you doing!" A strange voice filtered through her grief and she looked up into a woman's face. "You could have been killed!" Brilliant, saved by another Miss Proper. She could have well been Sherry for all Lorelai cared... she looked into the brunette's dark eyes and sighed, defeated. "Hello?" She really didn't know how to answer to the well dressed stranger and just stared, her eyes heavy and drooping. "Miss, are you okay?" The voice was softly spoken and sounded genuinely concerned.
"I...I wanted to get some coffee." She pointed slackly over to the Starbucks and began to cry again.
The woman looked over the lost looking lady and frowned. She was clearly having some sort of breakdown. Lorelai had a bump on her head and looked like she had been beaten around a little.
"What's your name?"
"Lorelai...really want some coffee now," she mumbled tiredly.
"Pretty name! When was the last time you slept, Lorelai?" The innkeeper was leaning against the stranger, her eyes still drooped.
"Dun remember..." The semi-conscious tall woman muttered, a steady stream of tears still falling down her cheeks.
"Oh dear, come on...let's get you somewhere safe," The kindly lady began to guide her down the road in a well navigated manner.
"I don't know you..." Lorelai was fading fast and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder, her breathing coming out in small pants and tickling her savior's neck.
Charlotte York looked at the tall woman slumped against her and huffed out a frustrated breath. Her load wasn't heavy but the gates to her apartment stood roughly thirty yards away and she felt she needed help. "Lorelai? You need to wake up for me a minute..." She smoothed the woman's cheek with her free hand. Something was telling her to help the poor brunette and that was just what she was going to do. It was the right thing to do.
"Ughh? Who are you?"
"Charlotte... We're nearly there, just trust me on this one."
"Where are we goin'?" Lorelai asked groggily.
"My apartment," Charlotte replied shortly, wishing the damn woman would move her feet properly.
"I don't know you," the innkeeper repeated and frowned confusedly.
"Sure you don't," Charlotte scoffed, "but you don't seem to mind using my breast as a handlebar either." Lorelai looked down dumbly and moved her hand up to the art dealer's shoulder for support, opening her bleary eyes to see where the fuck she was going. It really had hit her that fast. It was almost as if crying fuelled her energy as she drove but now that she was in New York she had no idea where she was going, why she was there or how the fuck she would get back to Stars Hollow. Her energy was thoroughly sapped and she was fading extremely rapidly.
Eventually the smaller woman got past the main door of the building and asked a guard at the door to help her into the elevator then finally leant Lorelai against the wall as she clicked the button for her floor to the apartment. "Lorelai?"
"Uhh?" Lorelai felt the movement of the elevator and felt a little dizzy.
"Can you tell me if you took anything? Pills of any sort?" Naturally Charlotte was worried at the lack of response coming from the seemingly exhausted woman. Her eyes had such dark bags under them she looked like she had been punched. There was a small graze on her head and she seemed a little concussed.
"Nooo...." Lorelai whined, though her head pounded like fuck so pills sounded pretty damn good at that minute.
"Are you sure?" Charlotte watched as the five-year-old-like adult nodded in annoyance.
"Tired." Lorelai mumbled, grumbling.
"How did you get that bump on your head?" She smoothed over the sore area with her palm.
"Fell over, I think."
"You think?" Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. "Are you… Are you in trouble?"
"N-No. I...I needed to get away."
"Get away?" Charlotte's curiosity was piqued.
Lorelai nodded sadly as they began to make their way to Charlotte's apartment, turning through the corridors. "I didn't want to be on my own anymore while I was waiting for him."
"Him? Who's him?" Lorelai found herself drooped against a fancy looking door frame and, though she had no idea where she was, she felt comfort in the smaller woman helping her.
"My boyfriend."
"Does he hit you?" Charlotte asked, still worried by the bump on Lorelai's head.
"What? No!" Now Lorelai was mildly lucid. "He broke up with me. Chose somebody else instead...I think," the sleepy innkeeper muttered.
"You think?"
"Can't make his damn mind up. Keepin' me waitin'," Lorelai slurred out. Soon she began to cry again, exhaustion wafting over her being like a small child who hadn't had her midday nap. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, though Charlotte predicted it was at least over twenty hours ago.
"I'm sorry..." Charlotte shook her head, feeling sad for the woman. The image of Lorelai staring the cab driver in the face flashed in the back of her mind and she shuddered, thanking God that she was there at the right place at the right time.
"'S'not your fault." Lorelai stopped and looked up at the setting she was in, the rich looking interior reminding her so much of home. Home. It was a long time she had called her parent's house 'home' but in her exhaustion that's what it was to her. She knew she was being oversensitive but just the thought of being able to hug someone back in Connecticut caused her to weep. Rory, Sookie... She would even welcome a hug from her mother. It was then when Lorelai knew she was totally alone in this strange place and wished she hadn't been stupid enough to drive when she was emotionally unstable.
"Heyy, don't cry..." Charlotte bent down and smoothed a tear away. "Oh honey it's okay, come on let's get you to the bedroom.." She brought the upset adult over to her parlor where she sat her down on the bed and moved the moppy hair away from the crying woman's face. She walked into her immaculate closet and brought out an old pair of Trey's flannel pajamas realizing that they were about the right size for the stranger in front of her. "You want to put these on?"
Lorelai just nodded, the thought of a nice, pressed down bed causing her mind to shut down. She took the pajamas off her new apparent friend and began to strip down causing Charlotte's eyes to bug out and her cheeks to flush. She turned her back suddenly and felt a splutter emerging from her throat. "Oh god…" Charlotte closed her eyes and braced herself against the dresser, muttering gently. What she hadn't expected was for the tall woman to be completely pantyless, wearing only her jeans as she shrugged them off almost drunkenly.
Keeping her mind busy and by trying to bring down the blush on her cheeks, she gathered an extra quilt from the wardrobe and walked into the living room, plopping it on the couch just in case it got too late and she wanted to sleep.
Charlotte peered into her bedroom where she noticed Lorelai trying to take off her bra with great difficulty. "Here," she slipped behind the tired innkeeper and unclasped the stranger's pink monkey bra, then turned her back once more when Lorelai finally managed to dress herself. She peeled back the covers and offered the curly haired woman the bed, watching her slip under the covers with an almost pained groan and fall asleep almost instantaneously.
It was then Charlotte York thought about things, what she had just done and the neurotic woman began to freak.
There is a stranger in my bed… A female stranger. I picked her off the street and she's practically unconscious…in my bed. This is the first time since Trey that somebody has been in my bed and it's a woman.
Cautiously, Charlotte brought a small dish with water in it and some cotton balls over and began to dab at the graze finding small bits of grit on the sleeping woman's forehead. It settled her nerves and she inspected closer, wiping the blood of the lonely looking lady's face. It did look like Lorelai had fallen over and she felt a little weird about not bringing the younger woman to the emergency room…was she younger? The brown haired romantic couldn't really tell and smoothed back Lorelai's hair. The woman was pouting in her sleep, and it caused Charlotte to give a tiny smile as she shook her head lightly.
She got up and went to the phone, about to call Carrie when she stopped, thought better of it and went to read a newspaper in the living room cuddling up in her extra quilt.
She didn't want to hear about what her friends had to say. She didn't give a damn about whether picking someone off the street was the right thing to do or not. She knew that her girlfriends wouldn't really care for that kind of thing and they certainly wouldn't have done it themselves but what she did know was that Lorelai, who was passed out in her bed was in need and she could most certainly wait until she woke up to find out what was going on.
To Be Continued