It had become routine by now. But neither had any concern that the other might be bored.

It wasn't boring. It was routine. And there was this great comfort and well, peace, that each got from that.

Not that they had discussed this. Perhaps neither was really aware of it.

Because though it's an incredible thing to come to the point in one's life where the restlessness has evaporated, where the fear has slipped away and in its place a certain... knowledge... has taken hold... That, of course, isn't really something one thinks about deeply, if at all, at the time.

This is merely what we come to label Happy in our lives. This knowledge of one another (and so ourselves) creates the happiness.

For Luke and Lorelai there was the knowing that things were the same: Coffee, movies, tourists, work.

There was knowing that they were different: The 'Hey! the smiles really mean what I think they do!'; And, that later in the evening, they could stroke one another and kiss or... not: A thrill came with the former, a feeling of calm with the latter... in the simple holding.

And also there was the talking... really talking: Of course a great deal of knowledge comes with that..

There was also the incredulity of finally knowing that someone is there just for you. Like on Halloween night when Luke well knew that Lorelai wanted him at The Dragonfly party, but having given Lane the night off for a gig, he'd be swamped when the high school kids came over after their dance, (but before they began wreaking havoc on the town)....

But Lorelai left her party early, walking through the diner door as if it were the most normal thing in the world, "Sookie and Michel can deal," she shrugged as she pulled on an apron and made with the 'diner talk'. He hadn't bothered to bark at her (it was too busy) or really acknowledge, even to himself, that he had this now... This someone for him. He was just happy to have her there during the rush, happy to have her nearby while they silently cleaned and closed up together, and very happy later to feel her breasts pressed warmly against his back, as they lay spooned around one another listening to the wind outside. See: Knowledge equals happy.

Most of the time.

Sometimes though the old adage that things have to be learned the hard way is also unfortunately true. And that is seldom a happy thing. But that's the way it can go too.

She had begun to feel something, around that Halloween night. Not sure when. Something different. It had edged up on her and was dogging her now. Looking at Luke and feeling... Something Else.

But what?

The summer had been full of opposites: Up, up , up with Luke, then down, down, down with Rory and her parents. And she'd tried to surf through it. She really had. She had a fleeting image now, as she reflected on this, of herself in a Frankie and Annette movie with a bouffant standing on a surfboard.

So, again, who knows when this shift began, or how—this feeling something else. But she frowned now as she glanced over at Luke and tried to figure it out.

She wanted something. But what was it? Waiting for things and the patience to do so with grace had never been her strong suit. That was Rory's gift.

She sighed and looked at Luke again.

He was sitting at the desk (they were in his apartment this evening), stubbornly pulling his Bob Cratchit routine whereby he sat down monthly to balance his books. The thing was, his books were actual books though he did cop to the necessity of an adding machine (an antique Mrs. Kim could sell to some out-of-reality Manhattan collector for a mint). He sat on the desk's matching hard wooden chair and worked everything out with a Bic in hand. Always had. Always would.

She'd begged him to let her teach him how to cut this chore down to a third of the time and effort by using a computer. But he, suspicious creature that he was, knew this was only part of the master plot the world had to change things on him. And not in a good way. It would just be like the extra phone line he had downstairs for the fax machine he would never get: Unnecessary.

But she wasn't thinking about all this right now. Truth was, she knew that changing him wasn't what she wanted to do (although trying was sometimes fun, just to see him steam.)

What was bothering her now, as she lounged on his sofa with her laptop, was how she was feeling.

She was feeling different. Antsy and waiting-ish. And not at all peaceful or cozy as she had been so consistently feeling in the recent weeks since the fall had begun.

She furrowed her brow.

It was like waiting for the first snow and it was driving her nuts because it wasn't coming.

But that didn't make any sense because there wasn't a proverbial snowball's chance in hell that it was going to snow soon. It had been warmish today. So, rain maybe, but not snow.

So. What was it then?

She snapped her laptop shut and got restlessly to her feet and wondered to the window and looked down into the square. Nothing worth seeing there. Then she about-faced and went to the kitchen counter and poured herself a cup of the coffee Luke had made for her and frowned again.

And then Luke started humming.

She snapped her head to the left and watched him awhile as he did this. Clearly he had no idea that he was doing it. Because, if he were aware, he'd never hum in front of her because, well, what better mocking material was there? Plus, he sort of sucked at it. It was tuneless and seemed to just be something he did as he balanced the books. Or, when he forgets I'm here, she thought crankily.

She watched him a bit longer, still with the gnawing feeling that something was different in the way she felt while he obliviously chewed the pen end now (a bit of blue ink on his lip as he double-checked a column of numbers in his ledger).

Lorelai sighed. Loudly.

She set her cup down on the counter and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. His humming raising her level of irritation from 'Just trying to figure it out' to 'What the hell am I doing?' But when she looked over at Luke, he was looking up at her, with a small blue-lipped smile.

"I'm finished. It all balanced, and I actually made more than two bucks this month," he said in satisfaction.

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter.

"Well, good," she said without any enthusiasm.

He stood up and walked directly to her.

"You okay?" he asked gently as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

She looked up at him and melted a little. What was wrong with her anyway? He was wonderful. And I'm crazy, she thought.

She smiled and licked her thumb a bit, then lifted it to rub against the corner of his mouth. When she pulled it away, she showed him the ink now smudged there and they both chuckled a little.

But the next morning when Lorelai awoke in Luke's small bed, the previous evening's feeling of incompletion washed over her again as she turned to see him in the kitchen making her coffee.

When he turned to bring her a mug, she sat up in the bed and took it gratefully.

"Thank you," she breathed into the sip.

"Sure," he smiled and sat on the bed facing her and took a sip of his own tea.

"Hey Luke," she began to distract herself from whatever she was feeling, "What do you say we get you a new bed—a bigger bed sometime soon?" she asked knowing full well what his answer would be.

"Okay," he said.

"What?" she asked in surprise. "Did you just agree to getting a new bed?"

He shrugged, "It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" she raised her brows dramatically, "But you hate change. You hate new stuff. You are your own Historical Preservation Society."

"Yeah, well, things change."

"Okay," she said in wonder.

"Things are different now," he said simply. "If you want a new bed. I'll get one. That's what you do for the person you love I guess, change or not," he added and got up to walk to the sink to rinse out his now empty tea mug. "It makes sense, anyway. The bed is too small for both of us... So, I've got to head down stairs now," he went on when he turned back to her, "I gotta meet the doughnut guy 'cause someone I know will have a fit if I don't get extra sprinkled... Hey! What's going on?!" he demanded into her hair after she launched herself out of bed and at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.. "I never saw you move this fast in the morning before... Lorelai, I'm only going downstairs..." he laughed when she squeezed even tighter.

"I love you too," she said into his shoulder as the relief washed through her.

"Good to know," he smiled.