A/N: Look what I found lazing around in my flashdrive. A story from a couple of years ago that I never got around to polishing up and posting. So after some major indecisiveness, I got a push, tossed a coin, and here it is. Happy Monday! (Set during Love, Daisies and Troubadours.)

Just up ahead, at the end of the street, the Crap Shack was looming. To Lorelai, her home had never looked more welcoming.

She sucked in a breath of relief, grateful to have the end of the night in sight. The tension that had exploded between her and Max earlier in the evening hadn't abated during dinner, and the long, too-quiet ride home seemed to pile even more stress into the space between the bucket seats. She knew they needed to talk about the issues they'd laid bare, and – Oh, God – that crazy, out-of-the-blue proposal, but for once, talking was the last thing she wanted to do.

Max pulled to a stop in front of the garage and killed the engine. The abrupt silence was unbearable. He sighed, then let his hands drop down onto his thighs. "Lorelai…" he began portentously, sounding as if he was starting a lecture at Chilton.

"Hey, that restaurant was great, wasn't it?" she blurted out, desperate to stop the discussion she knew he wanted to have.

Max's head whipped around to stare at her. "What?"

"The restaurant. Four-star all the way. We should go back soon."

Max's chuckle was unbelieving. "You liked the restaurant? You barely ate two bites!"

"But those two bites were amazing! And the ambiance? Oozing all over the place, baby."

Determined, Max tried again to start the conversation he thought they should have. "Lorelai –"

"Max, not now, OK?"

"But we need –"

"I know, I know," Lorelai agreed eagerly, willing to do anything to defer the dreaded rehash. "I know we need to talk. We said a ton of things to each other earlier tonight that we should examine and expand upon and explain further. Just…please, not tonight. Not now."

"There's a proposal on the table as well," Max reminded her.

Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut, really not wanting to land on that issue. "I know that, too."

"We can't ignore everything that got dumped out in your living room tonight. Those things we said…Well, obviously there's a lot of uncomfortable issues we've kept buried between us. We need to clear that all up, Lorelai, and then move on." He turned toward her and took her hand. "We need to move on to the next phase of our lives."

Lorelai felt the familiar irritation bubbling up, the same annoyance she always felt when it looked as though someone was trying to invade her life and convince her to change it somehow. Even if the suggestion turned out to be a good one, she needed to pretend that it had been her idea all along. After all, she was the one in charge of their lives, hers and Rory's. She had been in charge for 16 years now. She didn't have to listen to anyone. Not to her mother. Not to Christopher. And certainly not to Max.

Feeling doomed no matter what she decided to say, she sighed and turned to face him. "Look, Max –" she began, but unexpected movement up by her house caught her eye and she frowned. "Is somebody on my porch?" She ducked her head, trying to see past Max, wanting to see the steps more clearly. "What in the world?" She swiveled in her seat and reached for the door handle.

"Lorelai, wait!" Max called after her, but she was already crossing in front of the car and striding towards the house.

"Luke?" The porchlight plainly showed the accustomed flannel and the baseball cap, but she was still dumbfounded enough to question his presence. "What are you doing here?"

"Evening!" Luke jovially greeted her from his seat on the porch steps. He looked up, smiling almost playfully at her.

Max came up from behind. "What's he doing here – again?" he demanded.

"Um, don't know. Trying to find out," Lorelai replied, keeping her tone deliberately light.

"Max! Buddy!" Luke tipped an almost empty beer bottle at him in salute.

Lorelai laughed in astonishment, finally catching the booziness overlaying his greetings. "Luke! Are you drunk?"

"Me? Nah." He flashed that sizzling smile her way again. "You know I don't get drunk. Have you ever seen me drunk?"

"No," she admitted, her answering smile beaming back at him.

"Then my case…or something…is rested. Or whatever that saying is." Undermining the point he'd just made about his sobriety, Luke tipped up the bottle and drained what was left in one long gulp.

"Oh, that's charming," Max derided him.

Luke clicked his tongue. "Manners," he chided himself. He put the empty bottle on the step by his feet and reached behind him for what remained in the 6-pack. "Want one?" he offered Max.

"No, I do not." Max shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Lorelai," he prodded, obviously wanting her to fix the situation and send Luke on his way.

"Let's try this again." Lorelai sat down on the top step, next to her tipsy, unexpected guest. "Luke, what are you doing here?"

Luke lowered his head while trying to pry the cap off the next bottle. "Um, maybe I'm just proving what I said."

"Uh-huh." Lorelai tried to sound agreeable. "And what was that?"

Luke's smile this time was directed at Max, and it had lost the lighthearted aspect he'd shown to Lorelai. Instead it was full of determination. "That I'm always going to be around." His suddenly steely gaze fixed on Max.

"Oh, come on," Max grumbled in protest. "Didn't we already have this conversation?"

"We did! We did indeed!" Lorelai sprang up from the steps and put her hands on Max's chest, trying to give him a nudge down the sidewalk. "So what do you say we not start round two, huh? Let's keep those things all tucked away for the night."

"You're kidding." Max planted his feet, staring incredulously at her. "You want me to go?"

"Well…" She glanced behind her, checking on Luke, who was taking a big slug out of the next bottle, seemingly ignoring them. "Max, he's had a rough time. His girlfriend broke it off and left town today," she whispered, trying to explain the situation quickly.

Max looked alarmed, then distrustful. "Oh, that's even better," he scoffed. "Now he's free and coming to cry on your shoulder? No reason to worry about that at all, right?"

Lorelai stood her ground, hands on her hips. "He's a friend, Max. Nothing more, nothing less. You have no idea how out of character this is for him, coming here, drinking like this. I can't just turn my back on him, can I? What kind of fair-weather friend would that make me? He'd always be there for me!"

Max chuckled humorlessly. "Oh, I bet he would be, indeed."

"Stop the innuendo," Lorelai ordered, all at once fed up with Max and everything the night had dumped on her. "If you can't understand why I need to help a friend, if you don't trust me enough to do that, then I'm not sure we have anything more to talk about anyway."

"You don't mean that," Max protested, looking chagrined.

"Probably…probably I don't." Lorelai took in a deep breath. "Look, for tonight, please, just go home. Go home and think about it all, and let me wrap my head around everything we said tonight, too, OK? Let me get some perspective before we talk again. And give me some space to deal with…this." She waved her hand back towards Luke. "Just let me make sure he's OK."

Max studied her face, then looked past her, over at Luke, who was now splayed out over her porch steps. "You're sure you'll be all right? You won't need help getting him home?"

Lorelai shrugged. "If I do, I'll get Morey to come over. After all, Luke would be a lot more amiable with Morey's help than he would be with yours."

"That's true," Max conceded, reluctantly. He reached out to finger the ruffle on her black shrug. "You'll call me tomorrow? We will talk about everything?"

"Of course." Lorelai gave him her sweetest, most insincere smile.

"Well…" Max shuffled his feet, not happy about the way the evening had turned out, but recognizing he'd played out all of his cards and had no way to win this round. "You'll consider my solution, won't you?"

"Do you think anything else could bump that bombshell into second place?" she teased, happy to flirt now that she was getting her way and he was leaving.

"Call me anytime," he reminded her.

"OK," she agreed. She put her hand on his shoulder and pecked a quick kiss to his lips.

Still looking peeved, Max started to walk to his car.

"Bye, Max!" Luke sang out gaily from the porch.

Although Max had reached the car, Luke's too-cheerful farewell made him pause in the middle of the grab for the door handle. Apparently he decided it was best not to reply and got into the vehicle without further comment. Lorelai waved as he pulled out of the drive, then returned to take her place beside Luke on the top step.

They were both quiet for a moment, watching the shadows in her yard. Eventually Luke bumped his shoulder against hers.

"Man, that was one lame kiss."

"What?" Lorelai sputtered out, half-laughing, shocked that Luke would comment on such a thing. "Why? You thought I'd French him in front of you or something?"

"You?" Luke nodded seriously before taking another sip from the bottle. "You bet. You're Lorelai Gilmore. You do any damn thing you please, say any damn thing you think. Goes without saying you'd kiss any guy you wanted, any way you wanted, too."

Her thoughts clicked to the few unguarded moments she'd caught between Luke and Rachel in the diner. Soft, intimate kisses, with Rachel comfortable and cozy in his flannel. Something tight and unpleasant settled in her chest while those memories circled her mind.

"No," she said quietly. "That's not my style. Not into PDAs."

"Huh," Luke said, looking at her curiously.

She took a breath, trying to force the uneasy feeling out of her chest. "Let's forget me and discuss you for a minute. Seriously, Luke, are you OK?" She tugged sympathetically on his sleeve.

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Really?" She fixed him with a skeptical look.

He shrugged again. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She helplessly shook her head. "Well…Rachel."

"What about her?"

"She left, Luke."

"I know she left," he snapped, finally sounding irritable, and thus more like himself. "But it's OK. You know I'd been waiting for her to leave since the first day she got back."

"But this time was different, wasn't it? I thought the two of you were committed to the long haul."

"There's nothing to commit to. I like it here, she doesn't. I used to want her to stay here, now I don't care. End of story."

"Oh, Luke," she gently scolded him.

"Can't help it. It's true," he grumbled. "And that's it. No more talking about me. Or Rachel. That's done."

"For tonight," Lorelai added. "But if you do want to talk about it –"

"Nope."

"But if you do…"

Luke sighed gustily, shaking his head. Spotting the beer carton, he nudged it her way. "Wanna beer?"

"Uh, sure, why not?" Lorelai pulled the last bottle from the carton. "Hey," she said, noticing the label, "I never knew we drank the same brand."

"Hmm," Luke grunted, maybe in acknowledgment.

Lorelai looked closer at the bottle in her hand, and turned to study the carton sitting between them. "Wait a minute – is this my beer?"

Luke stared out across the yard.

"You broke into my house and stole my beer?"

"I didn't break into your house," Luke said, affronted. He waved a hand out towards the tree in the front yard. "I know where the stupid turtle is! And, by the way, it's not a safe place to keep a spare key, if everybody and his brother knows where it is!"

"Oh, my God." Lorelai leaned back on her elbows, laughing weakly. "I don't believe this. What got into you? And more importantly, what made you get into my refrigerator?"

He shrugged. "Forgot my toolbox."

"Oh, right, I saw that too. Poor Bert, left behind again."

"I wish you'd stop naming my stuff."

"Somebody's gotta do it. And admit it, I'm good at it."

"Anyway, I came back here to get him – it – and then I realized that Rory wasn't here." He turned to look at Lorelai, frowning with worry. "Shouldn't she be here?"

"No, she's staying over in Hartford tonight at chez Gilmore. She had a study group and a practice for an end-of-the-year thing, so it seemed more practical to just have her stay there instead of coming all the way home so late."

"Oh." For the first time, he looked embarrassed. His eyes lowered, staring at the bottle dangling from his hand.

Lorelai touched his knee. "You were worried about Rory?"

"Well…" He glanced over at her. "Yeah. It was late, you were out, she wasn't home…"

"That's very sweet, Luke."

He shrugged and shook his head, trying to deflect her words.

"It was," she insisted. "But how did that lead to drinking my beer?"

"I came out here to sit and wait, and it was such a nice night, and I started thinking how much nicer it would be to have something to drink while I was waiting, so…"

"Ah. It all makes sense now." She finally took a pull from her own bottle, and they sat there in companionable silence for a brief spell.

"How was your night with Slick?" Luke asked snidely, breaking the quiet between them again.

Lorelai chuckled. "Aww, you've got a pet name for him. Cute."

"I just meant –"

"I know what you meant. His hair is curly and wiry and sort of uncontrollable without product on it."

Luke gave a little snort.

"Maybe…too much product on it."

He just shook his head, letting it drop. "Have a good time?" he asked, still sounding vexed.

Lorelai thought about saying something inane, something to blow off his question. But here with Luke, she discovered, she actually wanted to talk about the night. Even drunk, she'd like to hear what he'd say about it.

"No, tonight was not good," she stated flatly.

He looked a little surprised. "No?"

"No," she repeated.

He waited, but when she didn't say anything else, he uncharacteristically pushed for more. "Why wasn't it good?"

"Well, we had a massive fight after you left, for one thing."

"Did you…" He took a deep breath, shaking his head a little bit. "Did you fight about me?" he asked grimly, surprising her again with his drunken intuition.

"We did, as a matter of fact," she said, amazed by her own honesty.

"Sorry," he winced.

"Doesn't matter," she said with a shrug. "I think it was a fight about a lot of stuff we've been burying for a while."

"But still, it probably didn't help, me being here and sort of goading him on and all."

"No, it probably didn't."

They both drank thoughtfully until Lorelai started to laugh, at first softly, and then almost uncontrollably.

"Something funny?" Luke shot that flirtatious smile her way.

She put her beer bottle over to the side and leaned back on her elbows again, trying to get control over the laughter. "Well, in the midst of our big fight, and me saying we should probably break up, he said we should get married."

She could feel how those words hit Luke. She could sense how the lightheartedness left him, how his posture straightened as he absorbed her news. He put his beer bottle down, too, then clasped his hands in front of him.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly, stoically.

"I said…" She sat up too, wrapping her arms around herself. "I said he was crazy. I told him that wasn't the way you asked somebody to marry them. You should have a plan, something that showed how much you loved them. You don't ask in the middle of a fight, to keep from breaking up."

He thought that over, then nodded. "So you said no?"

"I said…I'd think about it."

"You said…Wow, OK." He shifted a little bit, letting that sink in. "So, you think you might?" he asked haltingly.

Suddenly she felt so weary. "I'd be crazy not to, wouldn't I? I mean, why wouldn't I? Max is perfect. He's witty, he's smart, he's well-respected, he cares about Rory. When we're not fighting, we get along great. We're a good match."

"Then why didn't you say yes?" Luke asked grumpily.

"I don't know," she sighed, not wanting to delve into her reasoning too much at the moment. Especially not with Luke sitting right beside her, looking as miserable as she felt.

"When do you think you will know?" he asked, sounding a little anxious.

"No idea," she said tiredly.

"Oh, OK." Luke tried to nod in understanding. "Yeah, uh…big decision, right?"

"Yeah. Big," she said gloomily. But a few seconds later, she started to chuckle. "Wow, I just realized something. My love life's suddenly exploding."

Luke smiled nervously at her. "How so?"

She laughed again. "I've gone my whole life without a proposal, and now in the space of a couple of months, I've had two."

"Who else –?"

"Christopher," Lorelai muttered. "That's Rory's –"

"Yeah, I know who that is," he said shortly. He breathed in sharply. "So he asked you that night you didn't come to paint?"

Guilt squeezed her heart. "No, uh…the morning he left, actually."

"Huh." He looked down at his feet, nodding. "And you told him…?"

"No," Lorelai responded immediately.

His head shot up and he turned to stare at her. "Wow. So…no. No thinking about that one?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I've already spent 16 years raising one child."

"Whoa, that's harsh."

"But accurate." She shrugged. "Chris and I…there's a lot between us, obviously, but he hasn't grown up because he hasn't had to. And I just don't feel like waiting for him to get there anymore."

Luke nodded attentively, shifting his gaze back out to the yard. "No second thoughts about that one?"

"Truthfully, I'll probably always have second thoughts about Christopher…but marrying him would be a mistake. Especially now. I'm positive about that."

She didn't think Luke was going to comment further, but he surprised her again. "You know, seems to me that I recall you had a third proposal."

She glanced over at his self-satisfied expression and a shock of remembrance jolted her. "We're counting that one?" she chuckled.

"I said the words, didn't I?"

"Hmm, I don't think it matters since you were just trying to shut me up."

"I guess we'll never know now," he said rather smugly.

She chuckled. "I wonder what you would have done if I'd said yes."

He smiled to himself, still pleased. "Guess I asked you first, too."

"I'll be certain to tell Max that. I'm sure that will help his mood a lot."

"Well, it might. You never know," he said sagely. Suddenly he looked behind her. "Hey, I brought you something."

"You did?" She tried to look, but couldn't see far enough. "What?"

He reached for something behind her back, but the alcohol had impaired his balance and he toppled against her.

"Whoa there, big guy!" Lorelai put a shoulder up against him, trying to muster the strength to steady them both. His hat went flying when his head hit her shoulder.

If she expected Luke to instantly jump away from her in embarrassment, she was wrong. If she expected herself to push him away…well, she was wrong about that, too.

"Luke?" she said softly, putting a protective arm around him.

His arm slipped around her waist, and his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Drunk Luke apparently turned into Cuddly Luke. He mumbled something against her skin.

"What?" she whispered, shivering from the tickle of his breath.

"Nice," he murmured.

Involuntarily she tightened her grip around him. "What's nice?"

"This." He slightly moved his head, just enough so that he could aim an admiring look up at her. "You."

She bit her lips, trying to counter the shock of pleasure his words had wrought. Her other hand moved to the back of his neck and stroked through the shaggy curls laying untamed there. He was correct; Max did use too much gunk on his hair.

"You're right. This is nice," she agreed, her voice as soft as she could make it.

"You should tell Max no," he urged her.

"Because…this is nice?"

"Because…" His eyes widened as he suddenly seemed to become aware of his position and what he was saying. He straightened up abruptly. "Never mind. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about," he said jaggedly, shifting away from her by a few inches.

"I guess there could be worse reasons," Lorelai murmured. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling chilly without Luke's body pressed next to hers.

"Here. I really did bring you something." Cautiously this time, Luke reached behind her, pulling over a large carry-out bag from the diner.

"Food? Oh my God, I love you!" Lorelai reached hungrily for the bag. "I'm starving."

"Didn't you go out for dinner?"

"Yes, but there was no eating." Lorelai got her hands on the bag.

"Sorry to disappoint you and your bottomless stomach, but it's not food."

Lorelai reached inside the bag, mystified when she felt soft material. But when her finger touched a rhinestone, she knew instantly what it was.

"Oh, Luke, no!" In dismay, she pulled out the sweatshirt, the scattered jewels sparkling in the porchlight. "This is Rachel's! Why didn't you give it to her?"

She recognized the stubborn look on his face. "Because it's not hers anymore."

"Luke, of course it is! I gave it back to you because you still had memories of it, and of her…If you're sure you don't want it, why didn't you just give it back to her?"

"Because it's not the same anymore," he explained again, doggedly. He looked over at her, his face set in lines of determination. "It's yours now."

"I paid for it, yeah, but you've given me enough coffee to buy it back five times over. I can't take this, Luke." She held it out to him.

"It is yours," he insisted again. "When I look at it now, I don't see her in it. I see you."

She realized she was going to have to be blunt. "Look, I understand that you're not exactly yourself tonight, and probably somewhere in the boozy fog wrapped around your head you think you're doing a good thing. But I don't want hand-me-downs, Luke. If it belonged to your old girlfriend, I don't want it." She laid the sweatshirt down beside him decisively.

He turned away from her, his face to the street. She saw one tense muscle jump in his jaw, letting her know she'd wounded him. She hated that she'd hurt him, but what else could she do?

There was a few moments of silence as he contemplated what she'd said. When he turned to look at her again, his face was confidently resolute.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You're sure there's…nothing that used to be hers…that maybe you'd like to have?"

Lorelai held her breath as she tried to find another meaning behind his words, because no way he intended it the way it sounded, right? However, before she could even begin parsing the question, he brushed his hand against her cheek and leaned towards her to stare solemnly into her eyes, confirming her initial intuition.

"This isn't…We shouldn't –" She tried to find the gumption to protest something she suddenly discovered she didn't want to stop.

"Yeah. We should," he said, his voice and posture continuing to highlight his calm confidence.

He kissed her, cautiously. Respectfully. In a way that told her he was holding back, not willing to completely risk upsetting the boundaries between them, in spite of his brave words.

Lorelai didn't tell him to stop. She didn't pull away, or turn her face. Instead, she anchored her hand in his hair again, grasping the soft curls hanging down his neck, and urged him closer to her. She parted her mouth and touched the tip of her tongue against his upper lip, intrigued enough to put his restraint to the test.

He failed, spectacularly. His arms banded around her in a millisecond. His tongue swept eagerly into her mouth. She clung to him, letting the rush of her blood blind her to everything but the feelings aroused by his touch.

They parted, breathlessly, and regarded each other for a momentary respite before enthusiastically coming together for a second go.

Eventually, the feel of the rough wood under her bottom reminded Lorelai that they were sitting on her front porch, in plain view of the whole neighborhood. She disengaged and leaned back, putting some safe space between them.

He also pulled back and scooted away a few inches, concern registering on his face.

Lorelai took a deep breath and tried to weigh what to say first. "What's the verdict?" she asked, as evenly as she could.

"Verdict?" Luke repeated, sounding stressed.

"Yeah, on the kiss. Lame? Not lame?"

His instant smile erased any worry. "From my viewpoint, most definitely not lame."

"I would agree," she said, more soberly than she intended.

He picked up on her reserve and glanced over at her nervously. "Normally I wouldn't do anything like this, you know? You're involved with somebody else, and I wouldn't…I wouldn't be getting in the way of that. Usually I'd stand back and wait, until it ended. But…" He looked over at her again. "I don't want to wait this time. And before you say 'yes' to somebody else…I want you to know that maybe there's a different way to go."

Lorelai reached for his hand. "Luke, that's good to hear, but I –"

"No, we're not talking about this now." He shook his head firmly. "You've got enough to sort through tonight. But it's something you can tuck away, maybe think about later. Just something to put on that pro/con list I'm sure you're making."

"OK." She soon grinned. "You know what? I love that you already understand my thought processes. It's fantastic not to feel pressured for an answer, or to be lectured about how I should go about determining an answer. This is…" She smiled even brighter at him, remembering his earlier comment. "Nice."

He smiled back, but seemed distracted. "This is why she left," he suddenly admitted, motioning between them.

Lorelai blinked a couple of times, trying to put his statement into context. "Rachel? Do you mean that Rachel left because of…?" She shook her head, not liking the way it sounded. "Me?"

"Yeah. She could tell, how I felt about you. About how…I didn't feel about her anymore. So she left."

"Oh, Luke, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who tried to pretend nothing had changed."

She flashed back to their earlier conversation. "Is that why you asked if Max and I fought about you?"

He nodded.

Lorelai considered that. "So…are you saying that we were both dating people smarter than we are?"

He grinned, half-heartedly. "It might have just been easier for them, to see the things we've always pretended we didn't."

"Wow, you're quite the philosopher when you're drunk."

"I don't think I'm all that drunk anymore. I think this conversation has been pretty effective at sobering me up." He stood up, mostly steady on his feet. "And I think I should leave now, before…." He shook his head. "Well, just before." He headed for the driveway, taking slow, deliberate steps.

Lorelai stood up too. She put the sweatshirt back into the paper sack. She saw where his hat had fallen onto the porch floor, and she snatched it up too, trotting after him as fast as she could in her heels.

"Luke, wait!" When he turned around, she gave him his hat and the bag.

"Thanks," he mumbled, putting the familiar hat back on his head. The bag he stuck under his arm, almost hiding it, as if he didn't want to call any extra attention to it.

Lorelai was reluctant to let him go, even though she knew that was the prudent course of action. "You're sure you're OK to go home?"

"If I say no, will you let me stay?" Immediately he waved his hand between them, trying to erase his eager, but highly inappropriate comment. "No, don't answer that. I definitely need to go." He took a step, but turned back as another thought struck him. "Hey, you said 'were.'"

"I said what?"

"You said 'were.' Back on the porch. You said something about the people we were dating."

She smiled reflexively and nodded. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"Does that mean –?"

"Yeah, I think past is now the appropriate tense concerning anything about Max."

Luke exhaled in relief. "What will you tell him?"

"Oh…" Lorelai looked around at her yard, back at the porch where so much had just happened. "I think I'll tell him he was right," she said with a decisive nod. "I'll tell him that there really was something going on between us after all. Max loves to be right," she added on, with just a touch of sarcasm.

Luke smiled at her in a way that lit up her heart. "I'll see you for breakfast?" he asked, still seeming hesitant to leave.

"If you're making the pancakes, I'll be there," she assured him.

"Maybe we could see each other later, too?" he suggested as he backed away, finally taking the first few steps towards the street.

"Absolutely," she agreed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "After all, you do owe me some beers."

Luke chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I do. So…it's a date?"

"It's a date," Lorelai confirmed.

He left then, although he did turn around once to see if she was watching him. He gave her a small half-wave and she waved back enthusiastically. She continued to watch until he was out of sight.

Inside her house, Lorelai gave the toolbox a fond pat as she passed him on the way upstairs. "Guess we have a lot to tell Rory tomorrow, don't we, Bert?"

The toolbox, not surprisingly, didn't answer. After all, Bert had already done his part.