wizened_cynic | (no subject)

Finished 15 mins before midnight, whee!!!

Evidently, this takes place between they hook up.

The problem wasn't with the boots. The problem was --- if you chose to see it as a problem, which Alex did -- that Lorelai wasn't wearing anything but the boots.

"Well, how do you like them?" Lorelai is asking. "Claire? Claire Claire Claire?"

While she presumably waited for Alex's answer (who knows, with Lorelai, it could be some form of deliberate torture, Alex wouldn't put her past it), she licked at her fingers, which were stained red with melted popsicle. Alex had no idea how she even knew it was melted popsicle; she just did. It was instinctual, the way she used to know immediately whether someone was guilty.

"Put some clothes on," Alex finally said. Her voice sounded disembodied, distant enough to be somebody else's.

Lorelai frowned. Her lips were sticky with red. "So you hate the boots?"

"Yes," Alex said. "No." And then, because she had no idea what else to say: "You're naked."

"I know." Lorelai beamed. "You are too."

That was when Alex, thankfully, woke up, feverish and knotted-stomach and wet between her legs. She took a minute to make sense of what just happened, and then decided it was better not to think about it at all.

She got up for a drink of water, and in the kitchen she found Lorelai, who was just about to insert a spoonful of Chunky Monkey into her mouth.

"Hey," Lorelai said around the ice cream, and Alex almost jumped out of her skin.

"Good god, Lorelai," Alex said.

"Want some?"

"No, I'm fine," Alex said. Shaking a little, but fine.

Lorelai shrugged and dug into the carton once more. She was seemed normal. She was clothed. And she was wearing her Monty Python bunny slippers. Which was good, Alex thought. Slippers were good.