Disclaimer: Still don't own anything but the story. Still don't have a Luke of my own.

Author's Note: Thanks again for all the great feedback! This is getting fun—and addictive!

Luke stood on the patio of his sister's apartment watching a group of kids playing in the courtyard below. He'd been at Liz and T.J.'s (only Liz got to call him "Gary") for a little over a week, and the visit had gone much better than he'd ever expected. T.J. still wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but he'd turned out to be a decent guy who shared Luke's love of baseball—even if he was a Yankees fan—and fishing. He even apologized to Luke for the "dick" comment. But most important to Luke, he was genuinely nuts about Liz and seemed to want nothing more than to take of her and make her happy. On the first day of the visit Liz told Luke she and T. J. were getting married—We're joining our energies together forever!—and Luke thought they had a really good shot at making it work.

He sighed as he thought of his own screwed-up love life. His last visit with Nicole had been about as much of a non-event as the rest of their relationship. There hadn't been much to settle when he got to her place--with no shared property and no kids, the end of their non-marriage-marriage was going to be quick and relatively painless. Except for the humiliation, he thought to himself. After they'd finished what seemed like an appropriately inconsequential amount of paperwork, they'd gone out for a final dinner as a married couple. They'd sat throughout most of the meal without saying much of anything. But as they were finishing their coffee, Nicole had looked him in the eye for the first time that night.

"Listen," she began nervously.

"Yeah?"

"I just want you to know . . . I mean, I'm not trying to justify . . . I just want you to know why."

"I know why. You weren't happy. You met someone else. Seems pretty clear to me."

"But I want you to know why I wasn't happy."

"Obviously because I couldn't make you happy."

"That's not true." There were tears in her eyes now. "I wanted you. I wanted us. I think we could have been great together. But I couldn't be in this relationship alone. Not anymore."

"So this was all my fault."

"No, of course not. I'm as much at fault as you are. For one thing, I shouldn't have kept trying to hold on to you after I saw . . ."

"Saw what?"

Nicole took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "Luke, do you have any idea what it's been like for me to try to be married to you, to keep trying to work things out, knowing that you're in love with Lorelai?"

Luke just stared at her. No one had ever come out and said it before. Sure, everyone had hinted around at it—some of them even got really annoying about it—but no one had actually said the words. "Nicole . . ." he began weakly.

Nicole shook her head. "Don't. I couldn't take another denial. Not tonight." She sighed deeply. "Just do me a favor, please?

"Sure. I guess. What is it?"

"Just be sure that you make it worth the trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't let us have ended for no reason. If you love her and really want to be with her, then tell her. Try to make it work. Don't let me think you preferred some fantasy you're not even willing to follow through on to being with me."

The patio door opened, shaking Luke from his memory. "Hey, there," Liz said. "Thought you might want some tea." She handed Luke a mug.

"Thanks."

"You'll love it. It's Gary's special blend."

Luke looked at her skeptically. " 'Special' as in hand-brewed and tasty, or 'special' as in containing government-banned hallucinogens?"

Liz giggled. "Man, would you chill? I told you I don't do that stuff anymore. And Gary? He's totally clean. Never touched the stuff."

"Well that's . . . good, I guess."

"So."

"So." Luke took a sip of the tea—which really was quite good—and looked around. "I gotta hand it to you, sis. It looks like you're really got something for yourself here." He turned and looked at his sister. She seemed completely content with her life, like she'd finally found just what she'd been looking for. "Listen," he began quietly. "I know I act like a self-righteous jerk sometimes—okay a lot of the time—and I know I treat you like some kind of . . . I don't know . . . problem child, I guess. But you know I only ever wanted you to be happy, right?"

"I know. And I'm sorry I've been such a disappointment to you."

Luke flinched, remembering Jess's final shot. You set people up so that when they fail they feel like they've disappointed you. "You are not a disappointment, and I'm really, really sorry if I've ever made you feel that way. You've built a good life for yourself and you've got someone to love who loves you back." He paused. "I know I haven't said it, but I'm proud of you."

Liz beamed at Luke for a minute, then threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"Hey, hey, watch the tea!"

"You have know idea what that means coming from you."

Luke gently detached himself from his sister. "Yeah, I'm such a shining example of achievement."

"You are! You've got great friends, your own business, an important place in your community . . ."

" . . . a failed marriage that wasn't really a marriage in the first place . . ."

"Hey, now! No more of that negativity, okay? Nicole just wasn't the one the Universe had in mind for you, that's all. You hang in there, and the right woman will be revealed to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're not gonna try to read these tea leaves, are you?"

"Nah. I leave that to the professionals." She was silent for a minute. "Hey, listen, I keep forgetting to ask you. Who'd you ever end up giving the earrings to?"

"Oh, that's subtle."

"What? I'm just asking."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I gave them to Lorelai. And no, that is not some mystic sign from the Great Cosmic Beyond. She was there. They were her style. That's it."

Liz shrugged and smiled. "If you say so."

That evening, in honor of Luke's last night in New York, Liz and T. J. threw a small party. It was mostly couples, many of them friends from the Renaissance Fair circuit. Luke had expected a bunch of hippie freaks in velvet and feathers, but they were all pretty nice and relatively normal. Well, maybe that Albert guy was a little obsessed with Lord of the Rings fan fiction, but he was no weirder than Kirk. Okay, maybe not the best comparison, he chuckled to himself. But overall, he found himself enjoying the party and almost—almost—forgetting about Nicole. And Lorelai. Almost.

Sometime during the evening he found himself standing by the stereo (T. J. had introduced Liz, the Pink Floyd fan, to the wonders of Otis Redding and Al Green) watching his sister and her fiancé. Liz was telling Albert one of her "man, you'll never believe this!" stories, her eyes shining and her hands waving around punctuating every point. T. J. stood next to her, just looking her with such adoration Luke was almost embarrassed to watch.

"They're such a great couple, aren't they?" Luke turned to find Nina, Albert's wife, standing next to him and following his gaze.

"Yeah. Great."

"I tell ya, we thought those two were never gonna happen."

"Really?" Luke was intrigued. Liz had never really said how she and T. J. had gotten together. He'd just assumed they'd hooked up a few month's ago.

"Oh, yeah," Nina continued. "They lived in the same building for, like, six years and they'd hang out all the time—as 'friends.' T. J.'s even the one who got Liz on the circuit." She chuckled. "Poor guy."

"Why 'poor guy'?"

"Well, he was just crazy about her from the very beginning. But the little doofus would never get off his ass and do anything about it."

"So, what happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure what brought about the big change. But one night we're packing up after a fair in Trenton. All of a sudden, T. J. comes riding up on this big white horse he'd borrowed from the jousting demonstration. He pulls up in front of Liz, says 'Elizabeth Danes, I love you and want you to be the fair lady in my life,' then he literally sweeps her up onto the horse with him and they ride off into the night."

"Wow."

"You're telling me," she chuckled. "None of us thought he had it in him." She looked fondly at the couple in question. "But look at them—they're just so in love. They are just such a beautiful, positive thing." She turned back to Luke. "Hey, did you see the booth he built her?"

"No, I didn't get the . . . opportunity."

"Oh, you should see it. It's just gorgeous. T. J. made it all himself. Even hand-carved all these horses and crests and knight's helmets and stuff into the posts—very medieval. It's the envy of the whole circuit." She sighed. "I tell ya, it takes real love to make something that beautiful."

"Yeah," said Luke, thinking of the one and only time he'd hand-carved a gift for a woman. "I guess it does."

Later that night Luke lay on Liz's couch, unable to even pretend to sleep. He didn't need everyone to tell him he loved Lorelai. He knew it. And for a long time, his feelings hadn't infringed on his day-to-day life. They were just there in the background, like white noise. Or at least that's what he'd thought. But now there was no running away from it. His feelings for Lorelai—or, more precisely, his inability to do anything about those feelings—had cost him two relationships in four years. He'd been able to tell himself that Rachel was using Lorelai as an excuse to bail on him, but Nicole hadn't given him such an easy out. He was in love with Lorelai, and no fishing trip, no new girlfriend, no amount of wiping down that damn counter to keep from picking her up in his arms and telling her how he felt could change it. So what are you gonna do about it, Big Guy? his inner voice taunted him. You gonna ride a white horse up to the Dragonfly and sweep her off into the sunset? Yeah, Right. You're every woman's idea of a knight in shining armor.

He rolled over, punched up his pillow, and sighed. Screw it, he thought. Tomorrow he'd be back in Stars Hollow. Back in his safe little space behind that counter. She'd come in, smile, and ask him how his trip went. Maybe she'd even try to do something to cheer him up. Then she'd ask for a cup of coffee, he'd lecture, she'd pout or tease or come up with some crazy logic to get her way, and he'd give in.

Just like he always did.