A/N: Another Gilmore Girls Next Generation story. This one may turn into a WIP, or it may be the starting point for a future WIP, I'm not sure yet. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls
Photo Album
"Luke, what's this?" William Danes queried, plopping down on the couch with an old, leather bound book in his hands. Luke leapt over the back of the couch, landing expertly next to his brother, and grabbed for the object. William pulled it out of the other boy's reach and glared at him.
"C'mon, Will, lemme see it," Luke insisted, leaning forward and tussling his brother's short, dyed brown hair. Will pulled his head out from his brother's reach, which allowed Luke to snatch the book from his grasp.
"Hey!" Will shouted in protest, but he didn't fight for control of the object. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother as the young man flipped the book open.
"It's a picture album," Luke said, staring down at the first page. Will pushed closer to his brother, looking over Luke's shoulder to see that, sure enough, it was a picture album.
"That's Rory!" Will exclaimed, pointing at a picture in the top right corner of teenage girl with long brown hair and a birthday crown. Luke pushed Will's shoulder roughly, causing him to fall back to his side of the couch.
"What was that for?" Will asked, rubbing his shoulder while a mock-grimace adorned his face. Luke rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his messy, dirty blonde hair.
"It was for stating the obvious," Luke said simply, leaning forward and setting the album on the precarious stack of magazines that littered the coffee table. Will leaned forward as well, forgetting his earlier annoyance at his brother.
"Well, I'm sorry," he said indignantly. "I've only seen a few pictures of Rory when she was our age."
"My age, you mean," Luke corrected with mock pomposity. Will rolled his eyes, mumbling "You're not that much older than me," and turned a page in the album.
"More of Rory and mom," he said, grabbing a handful of pages to turn. "Are there any of me?"
Luke laughed, ignoring the glare Will shot him, and helped turn through the pages. There were a lot of Rory, their older sister, and their mother, Lorelai; and it wasn't until they reached the middle of the book that they found any pictures of themselves.
The first was one of their parents, Luke and Lorelai, at what looked like a baseball game. Lorelai was holding a small child on her lap, though it was obvious the boy wanted to free himself from her grasp.
"That must be me," Luke said, tapping the picture. Will rolled his eyes.
"Where am I, then, smarty?" Will asked. Luke grinned and pointed at Lorelai's stomach.
"Right there," he said. This earned him a smack on the shoulder.
"You weren't that old when I was born," Will protested.
"You don't even know how old I am in the picture," was Luke's retort. Will ignored the remark and glanced over the next few pictures, pointing at one towards the bottom.
"Is that me, then?" he asked. Luke leaned in close to look at the picture. Two boys were sitting on the front porch steps of the Danes house in what looked like very warm weather, judging by the disgruntled look on the older boys face and the open mouth and closed eyes of the younger.
"Yup," Luke said. "I guess you never grew out of your cry-baby stage." Will didn't respond and Luke glanced at him, expecting his brother to make some retort or take physical action. Nothing happened, so Luke shrugged it off and returned his attention to the album. Will had already turned to the next page.
"Look, it's your first girlfriend," Will teased, pointing at a picture in the top right hand corner. Luke glared at his brother but quickly turned his attention to the photograph. It was himself and Kwan Van Gerbig, one of his best friends, hanging out in the gazebo in the town square with Alyssa Forrester.
"Yeah, sure, Will," Luke said sarcastically, scrambling to turn the page. "Like I was old enough to have a girlfriend then." Will laughed, earning himself a small shove. He shoved Luke back, but after that they both returned to flipping through the album.
"We're home," Lorelai Gilmore-Danes called out, stepping into the small foyer at the front of her house. She expected to be greeted by shouts and complaints from her sons, especially her youngest, but instead she was greeted by silence. She glanced over her shoulder as her husband, Luke Danes, shut the door behind them, the confusion in his eyes reflecting that in Lorelai's.
"Luke, Will," Luke called, following Lorelai as she stepped through the doorway to their right and into the living room. There, they found Luke and William sitting side by side on the couch in the center of the room, leaning over something on the coffee table. The younger Luke glanced over his shoulder, shaking his hair out of his face and leaning back when he saw his parents.
"Hey, how was your night?" he asked, smiling. Lorelai raised an eyebrow.
"What, no 'Mom, Will broke my telescope?'" Lorelai teased, picking her way across the messy floor to stand by the arm of the couch where Will was sitting. She placed a hand on her son's shoulder and looked down at the coffee table.
"Nah," Will said, gesturing at the album. "We found something more entertaining." Lorelai glanced over her shoulder at her husband, who had followed her to the couch and was standing behind their eldest son. The two shared a smile before Lorelai tapped Will's shoulder and pointed to the kitchen.
"Bed time," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. Will groaned and stood, making his way to the kitchen towards his bedroom. He was followed by a lyrical "bye, bye," from his brother, and managed to shoot a glare over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner.
Luke and Lorelai looked down at their other son. He glanced from parent to parent then sighed.
"I know, I know," he said, standing. "Me, too." He jogged up the stairs, leaving Luke and Lorelai alone. They sat down on the couch and Lorelai pulled the album onto her lap. She flipped it back to the beginning, settled in against Luke's shoulder, and slowly began to turn the pages.
