The Long Walk Home

By LushBaby

Spoilers: Through the Cat. This takes place approximately one year from the current season: Doing the math, from November to March Luke and Grace are the same age so in this fiction they're both 17.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Chapter two of Warm Me Up. Grace takes the long way home as she thinks about last night and about her relationship with Luke.

A/N: I've just been informed that Kevin's room is upstairs, not next to the kitchen as I'd assumed. That's what I get for missing the first half of the first season! So forgive the poetic license, but his room is staying downstairs for this fiction.

Grace Polk watched as the freshly fallen snow covered her Doc Martens as she scuffled her way home that bright winter's morning. Her cheeks were flush, not just with the cold, but with the memories of the previous night's activities and Kevin's subsequent discovery this morning.

She chose a circuitous route home, knowing that the usual, more direct route would not be long enough, never be long enough, to think about last night and what she silently acknowledged as she held Luke close in her arms.

She remembered how her breath had hitched in her throat when she saw Luke's car standing open in the falling snow. How her heart had hitched in her chest when she felt his glasses and realized it was Luke's cold, motionless body she'd stumbled over. And then how her heart had leapt when he opened his eyes and she knew, somehow, he'd be okay. She knew because he had to be okay. For her. For her sanity. For her love. For her life.

Grace felt her cheeks burning as she admitted to herself that she needed Luke. Her. Grace-I-don't-need-anyone-anything-Polk needed someone. And not just a someone. Luke Girardi. He once said that she should like the idea of them together since liking him was a very anti thing to do. She had smart-mouthed back that she wasn't that anti and he had the cojones to call her on it, calling her moderately anti. Calling Grace moderately anything was simply asking for trouble. Instead, somehow, she was kissing him.

Oh, that kiss! Grace knew her cheeks were even redder than before as she remembered their second kiss. Did the first even count since she was just proving a point? Grace had always discounted it since Luke was so taken by surprise he'd hardly a chance to respond before she'd whisked them onto the dance floor. But the second. Now that was a kiss. A fireworks bursting, symphony crescendo-ing, lose-all-track-of-time kiss. The rain-soaked alley, the cool spring night, Luke's hair beneath her fingers, the warmth of his body pressed into hers. Grace caught herself sighing as she remembered how wonderful that second kiss was.

Then that stupid confidentiality agreement. That went over well. Not. In theory it should have been perfect. Spell everything out on paper. No surprises, no arguments, no hassles. Well, she'd taken enough science courses to know that theories didn't always work. It had lasted about 6 weeks before she broke it. Yes, she. Luke had called her on that too, hovering around the girls' bathroom one day, earning himself a reputation as a pervert in the process, to tell her that it wouldn't work. Tell her that her terms meant her isolation. That maybe she couldn't handle him. Oh, she could handle him, alright. It was her feelings for him that were spiraling out of control. Later he backed down, telling her that he was willing to play by her rules just to be with her. She had told him it wasn't fair—and that surprised her since she'd gotten what she wanted, why was she even thinking about Luke's feelings?

She should have known. She should have realized sooner that Luke was the one. She knew it the day she instant messaged "my mother drinks" and he'd raced to school to find her. To hold her and hug her and to not pretend that it would be okay. She knew it but wouldn't acknowledge it. Not then. Not until last night.

Breaking the agreement wasn't hard. It was keeping it that was hard. From that morning at school with Luke's arms around her and his hand stroking her hair while she cried, Grace wanted people to know--maybe. She still wasn't comfortable with the whole boyfriend -girlfriend scenario, but she saw that it might be okay to have someone there for her. She hadn't had that in a long time. And it wasn't like they started making out in the halls between classes or anything. But she stopped freaking out every time he talked to her in public and slowly people acknowledged that they were a couple.

That was like a year ago and life was pretty good. She attended Ala-teen meeting to deal with her mother's drinking, graduation was just five months away, and she'd had early acceptance to Columbia. Her relationship with Luke was . . . what?

Nice? How vanilla can you get, Polk?

Sweet? Do I even do sweet? But if I did, yes it would be sweet.

Comforting? He makes me feel safe

Hot? He's a pretty good kisser for someone who didn't get out of the lab much. And don't even think about lying naked next to him last night!

Complicated? Goes without saying.

Satisfying? Oh yeah. Completely. Unchallenged.

Grace stopped walking. Disoriented, she glanced around. She had long since passed her street and was currently heading towards Baltimore. Great, just forty more miles and she could talk to Joan. Joan kept her centered. Kept her from screaming and running away whenever the couply thing got a little much for Grace. But Joan wasn't here and Grace couldn't see this conversation taking place over a cell phone. Grace started walking again as the cold snow-laden air started permeating her various layers. The hems of her jeans were soaking and Grace couldn't feel her feet anymore. Sighing, she turned towards home and resumed her broken train of thought.

School would be out in five months and then Grace would be off to New York. And Luke would be here in Arcadia for another year. What would happen then? Was this just a high school romance? Grace almost gagged at the thought of being called Luke's childhood sweetheart, and yet, would it be so bad if they did survive as a couple? If later, maybe, they did formalize this relationship somehow? If maybe, twenty, thirty, forty years from now, they were still together, if he was still rambling on about some obscure scientific discovery and she was still just listening so she could hear his voice?

Grace mounted her front porch and hurried into the warm house, shedding her leather jacket as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Ditching her wet clothes, she jumped in the shower and let the hot water warm her up, much as she had done for Luke the night before. And again she felt her cheeks warming as she remembered undressing Luke last night. She had tried not to look, but it was a little hard not to see as she sat him onto Kevin's shower chair. Unconscious people tend to sprawl and slouch and generally not cooperate which was why she had undressed him before getting him into the shower. Ever since she had to undress her mother after she fell into the Kleins' ornamental fountain Grace knew how hard it was to remove wet clothes from an unconscious body.

So last night she'd seen Luke Girardi naked. Held him naked. Dried him off and got him into bed. Naked. And now Grace couldn't shake that image. Last night when she'd been so worried, that was different. She hadn't really thought about it; she just did it. But now . . .. As she worked the shampoo into her hair, she automatically closed her eyes and remembered. And she suddenly recalled her earlier thoughts about them growing old together. Did she picture any children in that scenario? Last night, holding Luke close to her warm body, Grace had felt this alien desire—this maternal desire—a sensation so new that she could hardly assimilate its presence. She had never really thought about children. When she had told Luke she wasn't even going to fall in like, she had meant it. No like, no love, no commitments, no children. Grace's brain had never even remotely considered the question of having children one day. And yet, now, tonight, the thought was as firmly entrenched in her mind as her leather jacket was in her closet.

Rinsing her hair and body, Grace stepped out of the shower and hurriedly dried off before dressing. Remembering what Luke had said, she sniffed at her clothes before putting them on. She couldn't smell anything special; just detergent, soap, and shampoo. But there was one thing Grace knew; tonight she didn't want to remind Luke of his sister. Tonight she was going to start breaking down that wall. Maybe. If she ever got the nerve to leave her bedroom.

An hour later Grace stood on the Girardis' front porch, waiting for someone to answer her knock, not sure if she wanted to be Luke. She was about to turn tail and run when Kevin opened the door and wheeled himself slightly back so she could enter. She forced herself to meet his knowing eyes, smiling shyly, as he closed the door behind her.

"I'm glad you decided to come back. I wasn't sure if we'd ever see you again after this morning." Kevin cocked his head slightly as he watched a blush rise up Grace's neck and face. "I wanted to apologize for embarrassing you this morning."

"That's okay. Horndog was the one naked and wrapped in a sheet."

"Yeah, and you were the one wearing lots of pink puppies. I wish I'd had a camera."

"You'd need more than that wheelchair if you had one." Grace couldn't believe she was exchanging good-natured banter with Kevin, just moments away from going upstairs and baring her soul to his little brother. Even though, she and Luke had been 'dating' for a year now, she still didn't think she knew Kevin all that well. But apparently, he knew her because he was giving her that same look he given her earlier that morning.

"You're good for each other. And if you care, then that's where you should be." Kevin gestured upwards with a nod of the head. Grace smiled again and gave a little wave as she mounted the stairs. A moment later she steeled herself and knocked lightly on Luke's door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door and saw Luke sitting at his computer. Apparently he hadn't heard her downstairs because he held up his hand warningly and murmured, "Yeah, Kev, hold on just a sec."

Grace just stood there, one hand still on the doorknob, realizing that this was her last out—her last chance of escape—she could slip away and not have to talk to Luke tonight. And then she saw him bite his lip as he concentrated on capturing that elusive idea onto his laptop, and she knew she was sunk. Who was she kidding? She loved the geek. She loved the way he bit his lip when he concentrated and how his eyes lit up when he was explaining some abstruse theory, or prosing on about dead scientists. Even better, she loved him when his eyes lit up at the sight of her. No, she was definitely staying. She cleared her throat nosily and watch with amusement as his head snapped up and he swiveled his chair so quickly he almost fell out of it.

"Grace!"

"Dude, I told you I'd be back." Grace shut the door behind her and in the silence they could both hear the loud click as Grace locked the door.