Don't own these characters, so why do I keep writing for them? It's a little sad, don't you think?

5.01: Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller addition. LL. Another call. A few weeks later.

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"So, are you wearing plaid man-tights right now?"

"Lorelai?"

"Do you have another woman calling you these days?"

"None that are incapable of a simple civil greeting."

"So you should have known it was me then."

"Well, you got me there."

"I often confound with my rapier-like logic."

"That's one way of putting it."

"But I gotta know; Is Liz still surfing the internet for the plaid man-tights?"

"She is bored out of her skull and TJ is just plain boring. And stop saying man-tights."

"Sorry. I meant 'air pants'... So, how are you holding up?"

"You know that French king who died from a javelin in the eye?"

"That bad?"

"My hero now."

"Oh, poor thing!"

"A woman tried to barter with me today: Two pewter tankards for two pairs of chandeliers and one pair of teardrop."

"I had no idea the Renaissance Fair circuit was so dog eat dog. So, what did you do?"

"I said 'No way,' of course, 'At the most: One pair chandelier and one pair of studs.'"

"Dirty! And I am more than slightly disturbed by your intimate knowledge of earrings, by the way."

"Yeah, well... intimate knowledge... can come in real handy."

"When wooing women?"

"Among other things."

"I see."

"So..."

"So..."

"Have you heard from Rory?"

"Briefly."

"Things going any better with you two?"

"Mildly. I wish I could talk to you about it."

"That's okay. I understand."

"I mean I really do."

"Well, I'm glad..."

"Glad?"

"Glad that you want to talk to me..."

"We've been doing a lot of talking these past few weeks..."

"Yes, we have."

"I mean, I now know your middle name. After knowing you for a million years, I now know your middle name. You never told me that before."

"You never asked."

"Yeah, well it's kind of a girlfriend-late-night-under-the-covers sort of a question, isn't it?"

"Hmmm... I wouldn't know."

"Very gallant."

"Well, it's easy when you're living in a Motel Six."

"Hmmm... Romantic. Oscar Wilde died in a cheap hotel room, you know."

"Let's hope I don't meet the same fate."

"His dying words were, 'Either that wallpaper goes or I do'."

"The guy had his priorities straight."

"Yes, he did... Luke... I..."

"What?..."

"I miss you, that's all... I mean we haven't even really started this, and I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Is this too quick?"

"Quick? Us? How long have we known each other?"

"Well a long time, but then again we've never really known each other... have we?"

"Hmmm... Should I say 'Dirty!' now?"

"If that's the direction your mind is going..."

"I think I'm going in just the right direction... finally... and, Thank God. What do you think?"

"That men like you don't usually like to ask for directions."

"Well, maybe I'm different."

"Maybe you are."

"So..."

"So... I should let you get to sleep, Mr. Danes..."

"I don't want to sleep."

"Me either... Will you call me tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. If I don't club the juggler with a turkey leg first."

"Right... well..."

"What?"

"Just, hurry home."

"I've got the truck idling..."

"Good."

"Good."

"'Night, Luke."

"'Night, Lorelai."