A/N#1:Okay first time in this particular fandom. I've been a fan of Gilmore Girls for some time, but the urge to join the online fan base is only recent. Now before I get into this fic I have some things to explain. First off although I'm a huge fan of Luke/Lorelai, I do not hate Christopher. In fact I like him. I find him charming, charismatic, sexy, and playfully adorable. So anyone reading this in hopes of some Christopher bashing well sorry to disappoint. Second I tried to keep this in series as best as possible, it supposed to take place right after Farewell My Pet. I'm a big canon supporter and (while I do enjoy the occasional AU) I try to stay within the storyline of any fandom I write for. Third please suspend your disbelief a bit as far who took the photos, and don't point out how unlikely it is they were taken because I'll just point out that Rachel magically took a picture of Luke and Lorelai when she is clearly seen walking in the opposite direction moments before the picture was taken. Also since she just put film in her camera how could it be the last on her role. Just assume the townies like taking pictures.

A/N#2:For anyone who might be wondering a brag book is a affectionate name for a photo album of one's child or children. My mother has one of me and my brothers, and one for my nieces and nephews.

A/N#3:Thanks to luvtheheaven who was nice enough to beta this for me, and did an amazing job too. This story would be very different without her imput, so I'm giving credit where credit is due. luvtheheaven:You did a great job, and I am very happy you agreed to help me out with this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls or anything relating to Gilmore Girls, they belong to ASP, The WB, and The New CW. I am not connected in any way to these people, or companies.

The Brag Book

Christopher Hayden's mind was in a haze as he walked out the front door with his to-go mug in his hand. Unpleasant thoughts swirled around in his head and he watched the front lawn almost expectantly. He fought to push them from his mind as he brought his coffee to his lips and drank in large gulps. This proved to be a bad idea when he nearly chocked and ended up with more than half the contents on his clothes rather than in his mouth. He yanked his wet shirt out from his pants and shook it violently, cursing the hot beverage. He pulled the lid off the cup and looked into it. He wished for a moment that he was still a young party boy. He wished didn't need this caffeine fix every morning just to function normally. He hated being dependent on it to get through the day. He hated that he was getting older. He hated most of all that this stupid drink had played a part in taking away the woman he loved, and yet he still had to swallow it down every morning.

He sighed quietly at the ridiculousness of his own bitterness as he bent forward slightly looking for the moving truck he had hired. Seeing the truck slowly making its way down the dirt driveway he set his cup on the porch rail. He waited for the men to pull up and situate their truck in a way that was most beneficial to them before giving them brief instructions on what furniture they would take and what stayed. As soon as the information left his mouth he turned on his heels and strode into the house to change. He wasn't worried they'd miss anything. The list was short enough that he was confident not one of his things would be left behind and in fact he probably didn't even need to be here to oversee them. Yet here he was. He wanted to make sure they got everything. He needed to know that he never have to come back here. He needed to know that he'd never see this place, and so he needed to make sure nothing of his, or worst yet Gigi's, was left behind. The poor girl was going through enough already trying to understand why they had been staying with her grandmother the last few days.

His heart seemed to stall as he reached the top of the stair case. He stood there for some time thinking of his youngest daughter. He had called Gigi this morning to check up on her when she awoke. At first he was glad when he made the choice because his daughter's eager voice as it cheered "Good morning" brought a large smile to his face that made his dreary day that much brighter. Of course that bright spot couldn't stay. He had been surprised when Gigi requested to speak with Lorelai. Really he had no reason to be; she was Gigi's stepmother. Yet somehow it still shocked him to hear the name of the woman he loved pass his daughter's lips. For the first time it hit him that Gigi was losing someone too, just like she had lost her mother. That hurt him. He couldn't place why it hurt him so badly, but the idea of Gigi not having Lorelai anymore stung. Maybe worse than the thought of him losing Lorelai.

He trudged into the bedroom, and began to strip off his stained shirt. He threw the shirt into the bathroom sink and filled it with water. Then he rummaged around the sink looking for laundry detergent. When he found it, he twisted off the cap and poured the soap into water. He set it to the side and began to rub his shirt. He scrubbed it with hard, broad strokes. He winced when he noticed that part of the stain kind of looked like a broken heart. His hands slowed down, but he kept scrubbing. Not two minutes later he yanked the skirt back out. Dripping wet, he tossed the shirt into the waste basket and went to retrieve a new one. He had waited far too long, he concluded. It was beyond fixable. Besides even if it weren't, he didn't have to energy to soak, and scrub, and ring it out in a continuous cycle until his hands were throbbing and his fingers too sore to curl into a fist. The stupid piece of fabric wasn't worth the effort.

With a new surge of anger Christopher stormed around the bedroom pulling open drawers in hopes of finding something he could throw on. Leaving the dresser in chaos he opened the hamper and began digging for a shirt. He didn't need it to be fancy, or even clean. He just needed something to get him home to Hartford so he could change. Home. Ha! That was funny. His parents' stupid house had never been home, and it certainly wasn't now. "And neither is this!" he said aloud, knocking the hamper over in his anger.

"I guess I should have known!" he shouted almost in disbelief and not caring that there were two men downstairs packing his belongings. That's what he had told Lorelai. He sank onto the bed and sighed. She said it wasn't right, and he basically confirmed that he was the stupid one for thinking it was. It hurt like hell to know it was over permanently this time. Lorelai didn't want him. She wanted to want him. She had said as much, and while he took some comfort in that knowledge it didn't dull the pain nearly enough. Sighing and running his fingers through his hair, he scanned the mess he had left. He smiled a tiny smile and stood up. He wasn't going to make this harder than it needed to be. He wouldn't leave a huge mess for Lorelai to have to straighten up. Not this time.

He began cleaning up his mess with that small smile still on his face. As he straightened the drawer he found a stray concert T-shirt. He remembered her fit over her Police Synchronicity shirt. That brought a tinge of pain to his chest, but the smile remained. This shirt, though, he knew for a fact was his. After all Lorelai hated The Offspring. He put it on and then began to pick up the clothing from the hamper. He shoved all of her clothes as far into the hamper as he could. When it was all stuffed back in he got down on his hands and knees. He reached under the bed to make sure nothing had been kicked under there in his fit. He tilted his head to look and something caught his eye. Up near the top of the bed was a very large book. It was shoved in between some shoe boxes, and looked forgotten about. Feeling somehow drawn to the object Christopher crawled forward extending his hand. He grasped the fake leather book and pulled it out from under the bed.

Right away he was shocked by the cover. It was a photo album. Confusion fluttered across his face as he examined the book. It seemed so domestic to have a photo album. It seemed like something a Stepford wife would do. It was all in all just very unlike Lorelai. He would never have pegged Lorelai as the sentimental type. He knew she wasn't heartless, but he also couldn't imagine her pulling this out at a luncheon to show off pictures of her baby girl. He couldn't see her sitting at a desk with markers, and glitter glue posting cheesy, sentimental junk into a big old book. However the mental image of her doing so did bring a strong chuckle to his lips. He leaned back against the bed and slid into a sitting position. He stretched out his legs in front of him, and set the book on his lap to take a closer look.

Across the top was a blank space where "Rory" had been written, not centered in the middle, but spread out and loopy and colorful. A name that should take up almost no space filled the area to the edges. There was a space for a photo in the center and in it was a photo of Rory, about 10, sitting cross-legged in front of a tree stump a sandwich in her hand, her eyes focused on the stump expectantly. She was waiting for something. Christopher's small smile grew into a large proud grin, though confusion still danced behind his eyes as he tried to adjust to the fact that Lorelai had a "Brag book."

He slowly peeled back the cover and was slightly relieved at the resistance it put up. At least it seemed she wasn't an obsessive freak who took it out every other moment ready to shove photos into unsuspecting faces. On the inside cover was a short message that read, "Don't forget to keep these pages filled Sugar, wouldn't want Rory forgetting where she came from when she makes it big." Underneath this were two simple words; Stars Hollow. The book had been a gift. A gift from seemingly the entire town. If it were possible for Christopher's smile to grow anymore it would have when he realized his daughter was so loved in this town that they had dedicated a photo album to her, probably with pictures they themselves had taken. His eyes shifted to the first photo. It was an 8x11 of Rory and Lorelai sitting on the porch arms around each other making an identical goofy face at the camera. He wasn't sure if the face was planned or if the two were just so in tune that they had made the same face instinctively. He guessed it to be the latter.

He began flipping through the book and found that the first few pages were colored a lime green, and were decorated with blue triangles of different sizes. "Our Little Star" ran across the top edge of these pages. Christopher rolled his eyes but continued to scan. Each page was filled with Rory and the various people around town. The first was of a 7-year-old Rory in a silly costume in a row with 6 or 7 other girls. The plump dance instructor was just behind them with a cigarette perched in her mouth. Rory was by far the tallest in the class, but also seemed to be having the most trouble. Her foot was bending the wrong way as she twirled and her flailing arm was inches away from another girl's face. Another showed a 9-year-old Rory in a bathing suit down at the lake. Yet while all the children around her splashed in the water and dunked each other's heads beneath the surface, she sat perfectly still on the dock a good distance from the others. Her legs were kicking the water by her feet, and her face was buried deep in a book. Still another picture placed her at a piano bench with a man who was easy three times her size. Christopher recognized him as the husband in the house next door. The man's hands were playing while his much shorter wife was swaying by his side. Rory's hand was also on the keys. Her fingers perched on a few keys to the side as if waiting for her instructions to play her few notes. Her eyes focused on the piano player, the smile on her face small, but somehow warming the whole room around her.

Other photos had lined those bright four pages. Ones of Rory at The Independence Inn with a lovely Grey-haired woman, a few at festivals and town events, and some of her with Sookie and the other citizens of Stars Hollow. There was even one photo of her with the insufferable French man who worked at both The Independence Inn and The Dragonfly. Those first three were the ones that stood out to him most though. Suddenly his mind was full of questions. Had Rory whacked that poor ballerina square in the jaw? Had she hurt her foot twisting it that way? Why was she in a hideous brown blob of an outfit? Had Rory just given up on the piano after that one lesson? Could she play piano now and simply chose not to do it? What book had her face been smashed in at the dock? Did she swim that day at all? As these questions whizzed through his mind he heard boxes being lugged around downstairs.

Shaking his head he turned the page. He found the words "School Dayz" printed across the top. He laughed at the cheesiness. The following two pages were colored a light orange with greens dots and squiggles decorating them, and everywhere of course was Rory. There were two official school pictures; one from fifth grade and another from sixth, as well as a shot of a 5-year-old Rory sitting at a table in her classroom with a toy antenna sitting atop her head. Next to her was an Asian girl, who seemed excited that Rory was sharing her snack. Instead of a backpack Rory was clutching a large purse with a crazy animal print that looked worn from use. Her shirt was also a size too big. The other page had photos of Rory dressed in her Chilton uniform. One was at the bus stop, her face in a book again. Another was a posed shot in front of Star Hollow High with her first boyfriend Dean at her side. On her other side, now in a cheerleader outfit, was her Asian friend from before. He realized then that it was Rory's best friend, Lane Kim. The final shot was of Rory standing outside Chilton at some event next to a handsome teacher. Her smile was beautiful and natural in every shot. The camera adored his daughter's face.

Christopher's smile fell as he gazed at this new set of photos. He didn't focus on questions here, but instead felt a slight stab as he realized something. Other than Rory and Lorelai he didn't really know anyone in this book. These people were important to his daughter and he couldn't even name some of them. Not the piano player and his wife, or the plump dance teacher. Not even the Grey-haired woman who hugged and kissed Rory as if she was her own child. In fact Sookie had been the only adult whose name came to him without any effort. Even the people he could name he knew very little about. He realized he had no idea when or why Rory and Dean had broken up. He thought about how he didn't recognize Lane next to Rory in her kindergarten class until he saw a more recent photo. Worst of all he hated that he couldn't name the man that stood with Rory outside her high school. The man who was obviously Rory's favorite teacher. Christopher could tell that simply by their comfort level with each other.

He felt guilt start to settle on his shoulders as he flipped halfheartedly through the next few pages. These were bright pink with yellow stars, the words "Friends Forever" sitting above the photos. The first photo was oddly enough of Rory and Lorelai. Lorelai painting Rory's toes as she threw popcorn at her mother. Then there were scattered pictures of kids swimming at the lake with Rory, of birthday parties so full of people the scene barely fit in the photo, and of Rory receiving hugs and high-fives from adoring adults everywhere. Pictures of what he now knew was a young Lane as she and Rory played, and laughed. Pictures of her cuddling with Dean a little innocently for a 16-year-old couple. Pictures of her holding Sookie's babies. Even a stray picture of a wild-eyed boy with gel in his hair sitting next to Rory on a park bench. Their bodies pushed as close together as two people could get. His arm was curled around her waist as they read the book she held together. He saw the teenager's fingers sliding under the hem of her sweater. His other hand was resting in her lap, rubbing her inner thigh. Christopher assumed this young bad boy was boyfriend #2. His heart sank a little when he realized he couldn't really be sure.

The picture had been taken right around the time Gigi was born. He sighed heavily when he remembered how things had almost worked out for him and the Gilmore girls that summer. Chris loved Gigi just as much as he did Rory, but her arrival had changed something between him and his oldest daughter. After he left Sookie's wedding Rory ignored his phone calls for 3 full months. Whether it was out of anger, hurt, or even jealousy Chris was never really sure. What he did know was that they were the longest 3 months of his entire life. Awkward phone calls littered with long pauses, and anxious breathing defined their relationship the following 2 months. Then when the talking finally resumed their conversation topics were more limited than they'd ever been before. Soon he found himself waiting longer and longer between phone calls just so they'd have something to discuss when they talked. A call every few days slowly evolved into a call every few months. Their conversation was almost formal, and extremely polite. Rory had not mentioned that she had a new boyfriend once in any of the conversations they had during her senior year of high school. He only saw her in person when she came to the birth of her half-sister. That summer she sent him single postcard from Europe, and that was it.

It wasn't weird for him to not know about parts of Rory's life. He wasn't an idiot, he knew he hadn't always been around. He was aware of how he flitted in and out of her life. It just never really occurred to him that Rory was a person. A full grown person with friends, lovers, and a past. She was a woman now, and she had a history. It wasn't that he never paid attention to Rory as if she weren't human. No, he knew things like her favorite food, and what she wanted to do with her life. He was trying now to get to know her boyfriend. He was paying for Yale. He and Rory got together. They joked, and hung out. They got along great. He knew he was well on his way to having a real relationship with Rory.

Yet somehow in all this time that he had been working to fix things with his daughter it never occurred to him that Rory wasn't just his and Lorelai's daughter. She wasn't just a separate part of him. She was her own person. She had a large world outside of him and her mother. She was like one of those long epic poems, like the Odyssey and The Iliad. She was this big story, and Christopher had only ever had access to the cliff notes.

Pulling the book back towards him, he heard the men downstairs laugh loudly at some joke they shared between them. He looked in the general direction of the door before turning back to the book in his lap. With a sharp pain Christopher turned another page. Though it hurt like hell to have to see his daughter's great life in the bits and pieces trapped in photos he couldn't stop. He had already missed so much of the live action version. He didn't want to miss the recap too.

His smile began to rebuild itself when his eyes fell on the next few pages. "Like Mother, Like Daughter" was sprawled on top of the peach pages decorated with crimson hearts. 6 peach pages covered to the very edge with photos of Lorelai and her daughter. At town events stuffing their faces with food. At home lounging with friends. At the Independence Inn working, or playing, or reading together. One had the two dancing in their living room in feather boas, and tiaras. Another had them tossing water balloons at people passing by at a barbeque. The last one had them smiling at the camera dressed nicely but their faces smeared with ice cream. The picture was a year old at best. He chuckled a little. At least Lorelai had gotten a front row seat to the show. Rory hadn't been without an attentive and loving audience.

His heart rose a little more as he turned the page and was greeted with the words "Daddy's Little Girl." There on the first of the baby and navy blue striped pages was a 3x5 photo of Christopher holding a baby Rory. Her face round and pink, her eyes squeezed shut in sleep. Lorelai had put this picture in. Along with the two beside it. No one else could have had access to them. He laughed as he realized Lorelai had been keeping this little gift up to date. One of the photos was of a 7-year-old Rory receiving a piggy back ride from him, a birthday crown on her head. The other was of a 21-year-old Rory with him in the restaurant they had gone to with Logan, who must have been the one to snap the photo. His smile slowly inched its way back onto his face as he gazed at this new page. It fell slightly as his eyes traveled to the second page to find, not more photos of himself and Rory, but a 8x11 professional portrait of the Gilmore family. Richard was standing tall with Lorelai and Emily on either side of him. Rory sat in front of them, but was holding her mother's hand on her shoulder. Genuine smiles danced on every face except Lorelai's, who instead was forcing a tight lipped smile, that some would think natural. He knew from experience though that this smile was one perfected by children like himself and Lorelai who were forced year after year to take portraits both alone and with their families. A smile that never quite reached the eyes, but traveled far enough up the face to seem believable.

His smile now firmly back in place he gripped the edge of the page, and turned it slowly, not wanting to leave the only pictures of himself and Rory behind. He liked the swell of pride they filled him with. His gut wanted to linger here on this page where it showed him as part of his daughter's grand life. It was a gut feeling Christopher should have listened to because when the page was turned that feeling was quickly replaced with one that could be likened to a punch hard enough to knock all the wind from both lungs.

There on Daddy's special pages was Luke Danes. Luke had a place in Rory's special book. A place on the pages that should have held more memories of Christopher and his first-born child no less. This man who had no right to be so settled into his daughter's life dared to tread into territory that belonged exclusively to Christopher. This stupid worthless man had no official claim to a piece of Rory's life. Yet there he was, owning the spot as if it were rightly his. As if Christopher was the one who had no right to it.

There he stood at the top of the page hanging a bookshelf on the wall facing the camera with an annoyed look on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. A 12-year-old Rory stood next to him bouncing on her feet, 4 or 5 books clutched in her hands ready to pile onto her new shelf. They were both paused in action posing slightly for the photo being taken of them. Further down the page, there he was again, leaning towards Rory as she sat at the diner's counter; books scattered around her. She pointed to something in one of her books as she spoke to Luke who seemed genuinely interested in her words. There he was again in the diner standing near her chair pouring her coffee. She smiled up at him, her mouth stuffed with coffee cake, while balloons floated near her head. This angered him, because somehow Christopher knew he had made that cake, and just knew those balloons with 'Happy 16th Birthday Rory!' handwritten on them were a gift from him.

He appeared on the next page as well. Hogging up more of Christopher's space. There he was leaning back awkwardly as a 13-year-old Rory hugged him around the waist. A blue coffee mug clutched in her hand, and a Santa hat on her head. His hand rested ever so lightly on her head and his other grabbed onto the couch beside him. There he was standing next to her in the library of the Dragonfly. Both dressed up slightly. Their stance showed that they had been facing each other (probably talking) only moments before. He leaned towards her tilting his head toward the camera, and she had slung her arm onto his shoulder before leaning her head onto it. There he was grimacing in disgust sitting next to a young Rory at a town meeting. Her mother sat on the other side. Both were sticking their tongues at him with their mouths full of junk food. They looked like the perfect little family.

But the picture that really held his attention was the one situated at the bottom of the page. There Rory stood dressed in her cap and gown, a smile shining brightly on her face her hands clasped together on her stomach. To her right stood Sookie her arm just barely grazing Rory's. Behind Sookie stood Jackson, his arms secured around his wife's waist. They smiled warmly and proudly toward the camera. It would have been a nice photo in Christopher's mind were the other side cut clean off. For on Rory's left stood Luke again. His smile very similar to the other two adults in the photo, but he stood a little closer to Rory. The reason for this was very apparent to the man glaring at the photo. Luke's hand was resting on Rory's shoulder. His posture was straight, he looked tall and his body language screamed that of a proud father. In fact any clueless person looking at the photo album would have thought him to be Rory's father. Hell anyone looking at any of this picture alone would think he was her father. They fit together; him and Rory. At least they certainly looked the part. They even looked good together. There was a comfort and familiarity there that Christopher felt shouldn't be there. There was a special bond between them. One he felt he may not ever even have with his daughter.

He stared at the picture for some time. So long in fact that what finally pulled his attention away was the slamming of the door on the movers' truck. He looked around the bedroom standing up slowly dropping the photo album to the floor. The room was empty of boxes. The movers had cleared the boxes around him without him even noticing. He was so absorbed in the photo album that they had been invisible to him. Slowly he wandered from the bedroom to the front door. He walked out and over to the driver's side of the moving van. He didn't think he spoke, and he was sure he didn't hear his own words, but he must have told the movers the address because they were nodding, and had begun to pull out of the driveway. He watched motionless as the truck disappeared from sight.

Biting his bottom lip he turned back toward the house. Suddenly this small place looked huge, and intimidating. Swallowing hard he meandered toward the front door. He stopped right before entering and took a deep breath. He willed himself to go in, and yet there he stood, thoughts pounding through his mind. Each hitting his heart like a nail being hammered into a coffin.

Luke gave Rory gifts. Cakes, balloons, bookshelves, and coffee mugs.

Wham!

Luke saw Rory graduate as Valedictorian and if she played piano he had probably heard her play.

Wham!

Luke must have met all of Rory's boyfriends, he probably even threatened them a little.

Wham!

Luke took up two entire pages in Rory's memory book.

Wham!

Two. Entire. Pages.

Wham!

That was twice as many as Christopher did.

That one almost knocked him to the ground.

"I guess I should have known" he whispered to himself. Still standing at the door-way his mind raced. He should have known, but he didn't. He should have known Lorelai wasn't going to carry a torch for him forever. He should have known that when Lorelai said 'no' the first hundred times she meant 'no.' He should have known the names of the townsfolk who helped raised his daughter. He should have known a million and one facts about Rory's best friend. He should have known all he could about each of her boyfriends, not just Logan. He should have known that popping into her life every so often and sharing weekly phone calls wasn't parenting. He should have known that one day it would all catch up to him. He should have known that someone would gladly jump into the hole he had left in Rory's life. He should have known it all. Yet he didn't. He didn't know. He didn't really even know his daughter. He should have known. He should know now.

Suddenly there was a distant beep and Christopher realized the answering machine had gone off. He heard a familiar voice fill the air. Blood pounded in his ears as the voice spoke in a fast tempo and cracked jokes to the machine. The morning came flooding back to him all at once. Then in the very next moment he rushed to the phone. He didn't stop even for a moment to consider his actions. He didn't think, he didn't dwell. He marched up to the phone and picked it up just as she finished her goodbye to her mother.

"Rory?" his voice cracked slightly. There was a desperate quality to it. He was afraid. Afraid that he had missed her call, afraid he had missed his shot, afraid he had missed out on his daughter's life completely.

"Dad?" Rory answered slowly. "What are you doing there?" she continued in the next breath.

"Oh um packing. Just getting my stuff together for the long haul back to Boston." He tried to sound light, and fun. He tried to push the pain out of his voice. He tried to hide the terror he felt.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that." Rory answered back almost shyly. She had already prepared herself for what was to come. She had already accepted how things were going to be with her dad again. "Mom filled me in on all the details. I'm just happy no one's too hurt over it. But don't worry Dad if things get ugly I'm Switzerland over here. So you can go ahead a rage whatever war you'd like against the Allied side, I'm staying out of the way."

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to make up for his awfulness. He wanted to go back in time and fix it. He wanted to tell her about his epiphany. He wanted to share his new-found knowledge. Instead he just found himself smirking into the phone. He answered, "Oh so I'm the Axis side is that it? So sure I'd lose against your mom huh? Well thanks for the show of faith, kid."

Though caught off guard by her father's lightness and fun banter, Rory wasted no time in chiming in with her thoughts. She had gotten her mother's wits. "After all these years, Dad, haven't you learned that Gilmore women are simply not a force to be reckoned with? I was being generous calling you an Axis Power, trying to even the playing field. This battle would be more like Rocky vs. Apollo. You'll put up a good fight going down, but in the end she'll still come out on top no matter what."

Christopher laughed lightly allowing the line to go silent. They didn't speak for some time. They just hung in that uncomfortable silence each waiting for the other to start. Neither wanted to be the one to break the pause. Neither knew what there was to say. Rory's heart almost felt heavy at the thought that occasional phone calls filled with deep silences was the only foreseeable future for the two of them. Almost as if he suddenly gained a sixth sense Christopher understood the reason for Rory's sudden shyness. It was then he decided things would be different. This was ending. It was ending right now!

Rory finally decided that the awkwardness was too much to bear, and decided to embrace the future of their relationship. "Okay Dad, I'll um talk to you later then. I already left a message for Mom so-"

Christopher cut her off, "Hey Ror, what do you say you and me have lunch on Wednesday? Around noon?" He was wincing at the desperation in his voice when another thought hit him and he added, "If you want I'll even bring Gigi along too. Make a father/daughters day out of it."

"Um well uh. Yeah, sure Dad. That sounds great," Rory answered after a beat, almost not allowing herself to believe that her father wanted to continue improving their relationship since her mom was now out of the picture.

"How about I pick you up at Yale and we'll all go out. Maybe seeing her big sister as a top dog at a university will inspire Gigi a bit," Christopher pushed, determined to prove himself to both his girls. "We could even go to a movie or something too. If you're really good, maybe I'll take you to Toys "R" Us and buy you a gift," He added jokingly.

"O-okay Dad. Uh maybe," Rory stuttered seemingly caught off guard. "Well I have to get back to writing my paper now, but I'll uh s-see ya Wednesday..?"

"Yeah you bet I'll see ya then kid," Christopher sighed in relief. The he quickly added an "I love you."

"Yeah I love you too Dad."

Then the line went dead, and slowly Christopher placed the phone back in its cradle. The words ricocheted around his head as he strolled out the front door with a new bounce in his step. Rory loves me, he thought as he closed the door and almost danced down the steps. It didn't matter that he only had a page of photos in her book. It didn't matter if he couldn't name all her boyfriends, the people around her hometown or favorite teacher. It didn't matter that Luke had shared more milestones with her than he had. It didn't matter because Rory knew he wanted to be in her life, Rory knew he'd be a better father now that he realized his mistakes, and Rory knew he loved her.

Climbing into his car he looked at his watch. It was early, so he could still put in a half day at work after he met the movers at his apartment. He had started up his car and put it in reverse when a voice that sounded a lot like Lorelai said softly in his head, 'Or you could go home and play with Gigi for the rest of the day.'

Smiling as he drove through Stars Hollow looking at the backdrop for all of his daughter's memories, that's exactly what Christopher decided he would do. He hummed all the way towards his mother's house with one thought still having a party inside his head, dancing like there was no tomorrow; Rory loves me.

"I guess I should have known, huh?"

Final A/N:Well hopefully I've redeemed Christopher a little bit with this story. This is something I always wished the show had done, because I feel as if Rory and Chris' relationship is never really given the closure it deserves. I also slipped in some references to the show in some of the photos.

Please Review

KaP.