I Have Never…

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: I had fun with this one.

Once again, in case you've missed the previous announcement, if you've reviewed and have not received a response, let me know. It would appear that FFn has experienced sporadic problems through these past (however long) months.

Summary: Literati. A dark kitchen, one bottle…two old lovers reminisce and discover things for the very first time. AU.

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He's watching her. For five minutes he's seen her stay as still as a statue, her hunched shoulders slumped over the kitchen center island in her mom's inn. She remains motionless as she continues to stare at the bottle, as if contemplating what to do.

"Well, well…Rory Gilmore drowning her sorrows, who'd have thought?"

Her head whips around as she sees him step through the shadows. Silently, she observes him for a few seconds. "Didn't anyone teach you that it's impolite to let a lady drink alone?"

He smirks. "That's what they tell me."

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"I have never really been in the ocean." She lifts an eyebrow in challenge. "Swimming, not just wading."

He nods and reaches for the small shot glass. Throwing his head back, the liquid burns down his throat. "California, Venice Beach. Several times." He thinks for a moment. "I've never been stung by a bee."

She pauses. "Six years old. I was playing in the park. On my knee." Mouth open, she gulps down the alcohol. "I've never seen a Star Wars movie."

"That makes two of us." He smirks and doesn't reach for the bottle. "I've never had sex in a public bathroom."

Quickly, she downs another shot. Wincing, she shivers slightly.

"Huh." He lets the implication sink in. "You? Public sex? And the bad girl comes out."

She thinks he's teasing her, his tone sure implies it, but his face is emotionless. He reveals nothing. "I've never smoked a cigarette."

He shakes his head. "Cheap shot." Pouring another, he drinks. "I've never had a pet."

"Me neither." She readies another shot for the both of them. "I've never thought about getting a tattoo."

He reaches for a glass.

"Really?" She seems surprised. Curiosity gets the best of her. "You just thought about it, or you have one?" Seeing his sly smile, she has confirmation. "What is it? Where?"

"There isn't enough alcohol in that bottle to convince me to show you." He snickers. "I've never been on a ferryboat."

She takes the other glass. "Seattle, two years ago. Vacation with Mom." She fills them up again. "I've never flown first class. Private jet, yes, but first class, no."

He throws his head back again. Seeing her reaction, he tells her, "Turns out there are some perks to writing a best seller novel." He smirks. "I've never had a one-night stand."

"You're kidding?"

Eyes glassy, he matches her incredulous tone of voice. "What? You think I'm just some easy lay?" The fact that she didn't take a shot does not escape his eagle eye attention.

She shakes her head and lets the subject drop. "I never thought I'd be unhappy the night after my mother's wedding."

He shrugs, but is polite enough not to push her last statement. He continues. "I never thought I'd see you at their wedding alone." His challenge is pointed.

She doesn't know whether or not to take the alcohol. So, she remains still. "I never thought you'd come."

Insulted, he grabs the glass. "Luke is my family." That's all he has to say. After a moment's calm, he starts up again, steering them away from the dangerous ones. "I've never had Dr. Pepper."

She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Something we have in common. I've never read an instruction's manual."

He rolls his eyes at her predictability. Her habits never change. He already knew that way back when. Wiping a bit of liquid off the side of his mouth with two fingers, he speaks up. "I've never finished one cup of coffee."

Scoffing, "Now who's taking cheap shots?"

He chuckles.

Her eyes are having a hard time focusing on the task at hand. Spilling as she pours another set for them, she goes for an obvious one. "I've never been this drunk."

"Why am I not surprised?" He swallows. "I've never been with anyone for more than a year or so."

As she polishes off another one, she doesn't miss that he was not so subtly referring to their past relationship. "I've never had surgery. Never been under the knife."

He fills the glass to the brim. "Tonsils, ten years old." He leans forward. "I've never cried because of a movie."

"That's debatable. I remember one time you welled up." She takes the glass that he offers.

He smirks. "Your memory fails you."

"Whatever." She smiles nonetheless. "I've never stepped foot in a gym my whole life."

"Ditto."

Silence swirls around them for a moment, engulfing their odd confessions. The alcohol has done its job of loosening their tongues, but they're still both holding back. For some reason, she has an uncontrollable urge to be honest. "I've never had anyone kiss me the way you did."

"Rory." Even in his unfocused state, he knows this is something they shouldn't be talking about. "Don't." He warns her.

She ignores him. "You made me feel weak and dizzy. There was no hesitation in your kiss. I think those were the only times you were ever truly honest with me. Ironically, we weren't speaking."

He takes a breath. Quietly, as sweet as a child in a confessional, "I never wanted to be with anyone as badly as I wanted to be with you."

She doesn't take a drink. "I never blamed you for what happened between us."

Scoffing, "You can't lie in this game."

"Who says I'm lying?"

"Really?" He's sarcastic. "Is that so?"

She's dead serious. "Yes. I've never blamed you."

Purposefully, he reaches for a shot. "You didn't need to. I blamed myself." He swallows, and it has never felt so bitter in his life.

"I never regretted being with you. Despite everything." She silently dares him to take that filled glass.

He looks down. "We're out of vodka."

"There's another bottle in the pantry. Do we need it?" She thinks she might cry.

He contemplates her implied question. Slowly, almost torturously, he shakes his head and turns both shot glasses upside down. "No."

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The sunlight's streaming through the windows, but it does little good in waking the room's occupants. Clothes are strewn across the pathway to the bed, her sweatshirt mixed with his jeans, his boxers hiding her bra.

She stirs, and in doing so, wakes him as well. The sheets are crisp against her bare skin, and her mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Licking her lips, she remains still, watching him struggle to come to consciousness. "Hey."

He looks over at her pressed to his side. "Hey."

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Muttering 'sorry' would be a blatant lie, 'I don't remember last night' would be untrue, and yet…you have no idea what to say.
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In both their eyes, they dare each other to make the first move…

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AN: Review please.