asinglewordwilldo: ([Lorelai/Alva] She digs the black silk P)
[personal profile] asinglewordwilldo
Muse: Alva Keel
Fandom: Miracles
Track: 7 - Something
Artist: The Beatles
Album: Artist Compilation: The Beatles
Summary: Alva studies the ghost lights of Star Lake...and Lorelai Gilmore.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 895
Notes: Takes place a few weeks after Lorelai and Alva first meet, and shortly before their first kiss. Dedicated to my own personal Lorelai, [livejournal.com profile] rogueapprentice. :P


The lake was alive with light. Soft, glowing teardrops of luminescence drifted just over the surface of the water like pearls illuminated from within. In reality, they were more the size of softballs, but distance made them seem smaller, and that much more ethereal. For ghost lights, it made them unusual...rarely were the individual points smaller than basketball sized, minus the size of the halo.

Watching as a single orb slowly surged towards him, hovering about six feet away, Alva couldn’t keep from smiling just a little. He had an irrational urge to reach out and touch it, one he gave himself the luxury of indulging. As expected, the orb sailed away in a manner one might have called playful or teasing. It spun and seemed to change color, just slightly, its glow reflecting off the glassy black water with a quality that could only be described as magical.

Since the Shadow Ridge incident, he’d witnessed ghost lights only one other time before this, making a total of twice before Stars Hollow. Both times, the lights had been electrifying, granted...but never this quiet, this serene. Doing a study of this phenomenon was more than just work, it was a joy...a piece of something good in the world he’d steeped himself in, a reminder that not all of it was filled with darkness.

The notion caused his head to turn, along with the sleepy murmur of the dark-haired beauty at his side. Lorelai wasn’t quite out beside him, as evidenced by the travel mug of coffee clutched securely between her hands. He understood how she could drift off in this moment...sitting and watching the ghost lights of Star Lake for the third or fourth time. It wasn’t the boredom, but the pure tranquility that the setting radiated which lulled her into that half-slumber.

One she stirred from a moment later, shifting in her chair and wordlessly reaching into the back that sat on the ground between them. Rummaging, she withdrew a notepad and handed it to him...at least, that’s what she seemed to be doing as she waved it groggily in his direction, swatting at something invisible until he was willing to grab it.

“What’s that for?” he asked quietly with a smile, reaching out to take the notebook.

“It’s a notebook, Jane Goodall.” Lorelai murmured, rubbing her eyes with one hand, voice slightly hoarse with drowsiness. “You’ve been out in the jungle with the monkeys three times now, being all note-y, and you’re getting all full up in that thing.”

Wondering briefly how she could look like both a sleepy child and a wanton temptress at the same time with her tousled raven curls and flushed cheeks, Alva smiled and returned to his notes. Truth be told, he only had a page or two left...leave it to Lorelai.

As if reading his mind, she spoke then. “See how I did that?”

“Did what, love?”

“Knew about all your notes and was all helpful with the notebook and the researchyness. I know what my man likes, baby.”

Smirking, Alva nodded as he glanced up, then back down, working on the start of a sketch of the latest formation the lights were taking. “If you did, you’d have worn that little blue tank again. Brings out your eyes...very lovely. Really...how did you put it last time? ‘Turns my crank.’”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she shifted...drawing closer, peering at his notebook. “See? I knew you’ve been ogling my boobs. Jane Goodall my butt, you’re Sid Vicious. Or Ian Rotten...whoever would look at my boobs.”

“Any man with eyes would look at your...bugger, am I *really* having this conversation?” he laughed, shaking his head and turning to grin at her.

Lorelai returned his smile, and not for the first time, the ghost lights became far less radiant in comparison. “You are. I’m good, huh?”

“Bloody fantastic, love...I assure you, I’m not complaining.”

“Better not be, or no more mallomars for you. Whatcha doing?”

“Sketching...this formation’s a new one.” He replied, turning back to his notes. “It’s really remarkable how they move...there’s still sentience there, I know it. And if that’s, in fact, true, then that means there may be a way to communicate with them, and are you *actually* interested?”

“Kinda.” Lorelai admitted honestly. He could tell she was being sincere, because she settled back in her chair and took a sip of her coffee, watching the ghost lights again. “I like knowing something about this...I mean, it gives me something smart that I know, even if no one believes me when I talk about it. *I* know I sound all booky and all-knowing, and Rory gets it. She believes me, anyway.”

“I do hope I get into town one weekend when she’s here...she sounds like a truly wonderful girl.”

For a while, he sketched in silence...and something about it seemed important. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but felt pregnant with something profound. He could almost sense her smiling beside him...as if he’d said something more than just the right thing, but the perfect thing, and he was glad he had.

Because although he came to Stars Hollow to study the ghost lights, the light of her smile that was rapidly becoming the only thing truly worth seeing.

April 2009

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