A/N: Yeah, so, this is for anyone who remembers that this story actually exists. I'm donning the sackcloth and ashes over the length of time it took me to update.

And yes, there is a rating change for this chapter. It's now Rated R, y'all. Baby's first smut!

Chapter 4: Shadows in the Moonlight

On Tuesday (or, as Lorelai later put it in her very worst Marlon Brando impression, "on dis, de day of our anni-voi-suh-ree"), Lorelai awoke to the familiar—and always welcome—scent of Luke's coffee. She opened her eyes with a contented sigh just as Luke, clad only in his boxers, came into the room with two steaming mugs. He handed her the one containing the coffee, then leaned down and kissed her deeply.

"Morning," he said, moving to kiss her forehead.

Lorelai gave him a smile, then took a long, grateful sip of her coffee.

"You really are the perfect man." She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes with another contented sigh.

Luke merely grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

After a few minutes of quiet, Lorelai opened her eyes and looked around the room in the dim light. "What time is it, anyway?"

"About 9:30."

"9:30? How come it's so dark?"

"Apparently there's a storm system right over the Outer Banks. It's raining like crazy out there."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding!" Lorelai slammed her coffee mug on the night stand, then jumped out of bed and went over to the window. She pulled back the curtain to reveal an ominously gray sky and torrential rain. "God, Heather Tesch must really hate me."

"Who?" Luke came to stand behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"The chick on the Weather Channel. I can't believe we're only gonna get one decent day on this trip!" The force of Lorelai's complaint, however, was lost in the growing arousal in her voice. Just having Luke within three feet of her was enough to get her motor running, and naked Luke, well . . .

Luke chuckled into her shoulder. "Well, according to Heather, or whoever, the whole thing's supposed to blow over about noon, so I'm sure we'll be able salvage something out of the day."

Lorelai smiled and pulled his arm tighter around her, reveling in the feel of being literally wrapped up in Luke. After a minute, she turned to face him, batting her eyelashes. "But whatever shall we do to while away the hours in the meantime, Mistah Danes?"

"I've got a couple of ideas," he responded, lowering his lips to the curve of Lorelai's shoulder.

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By late afternoon the weather had cleared, and Luke and Lorelai drove down to the ferry that ran regularly to Ocracoke Island. Lorelai was completely intrigued by "the whole car-on-a-boat scenario," and more than one passenger turned an amused glance her way as she bounced around the ferry, chattering excitedly.

"Hey," she said, grabbing Luke's hand as they came to the railing at the back of the boat, "wanna play Leo to my Kate?"

"Not if it any way, shape, or form involves me yelling 'I'm the King of the World,'" Luke responded with a patented eye-roll.

"Fine," Lorelai pouted. "We'll just save that for bed tonight."

A couple next to them sniggered, and Lorelai bit her lip to keep from giggling at the blush that was quickly rising in Luke's cheeks.

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They spent about an hour or so walking hand-in-hand around Ocracoke village, which turned out to be a small, rustic beach community made up mostly of specialty shops. Lorelai thought there was something about it that reminded her of Stars Hollow—an impression that grew even stronger when she saw that the village had its very own cleverly named bookstore.

" 'Books to be Red,'" Lorelai cried with glee upon reading the sign. "Oh, man. Rory will kill us if we don't check this place out. Hey, I wonder if they show cheesy, badly dubbed 70s movies here on Tuesday nights."

"I dunno," growled Luke, "but the minute I see a large red couch I'm outta there."

They stepped into the air-conditioned shop and began browsing through the shelves of books, Lorelai looking for something Rory might enjoy. After about half an hour of picking up and putting down countless choices, she decided on A Long Way Down and Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs—the former because Rory had recently gotten on a Nick Hornby kick, and the latter because the title just sounded too cool to pass up. The fact that it turned out to be a book of pop-culture essays was just the icing on the cake.

She found Luke a couple of rows over, engrossed in—of all things—Far from the Madding Crowd. Momentarily taken aback by Luke's sudden interest in British literature, she simply stood and watched him read for a few seconds. Finally, overcome with curiosity, she slid silently up to him and peered over his shoulder.

"Whatcha readin'?"

At the sudden sound of her voice, Luke jumped about six inches and let out a highly amusing yelp of surprise. "Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I'm pretty sure Rory's already read this one, babe," Lorelai smiled, pointing to the book Luke still held in his hand.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I know." The look of embarrassment on Luke's face was just about the cutest thing Lorelai had ever seen. "Actually, I was thinking about getting it . . . you know . . . well, for me."

Lorelai raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "For you?"

"What?" Now Luke was getting defensive. "I read."

"I know you read, hon. You read a lot. I just didn't know you were into 19th Century English pastoral novels, that's all."

At this, Luke seemed to grow even more embarrassed. "Well, you know, I heard Rory telling you about it when she was home a few weeks ago, and I dunno. It just sounded . . . I dunno . . .interesting, I guess." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and seemed to have trouble meeting Lorelai's gaze.

Still confused about why Luke would be so embarrassed about reading a classic novel (after all, it's not like it was Bridget Jones's Diary), Lorelai tried to remember what Rory had said about the book. After a moment, bits and pieces came back to her. The strong, silent bachelor in love with the unattainable local beauty . . . lots of pining . . . finally, a happy ending. One look in Luke's eyes told her he was remembering something along those same lines. The idea that he still—even occasionally—thought of them like that touched her, and she leaned into him and kissed him softly.

"How 'bout I borrow Rory's copy and we read it together," she smiled.

Luke returned the smile as he squeezed her hand. "Sounds good."

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After a couple more hours of exploring and shopping (Lorelai insisted on getting souvenirs for almost everyone back home, including Taylor and her parents), they made their way to Howard's Pub for dinner. The place was apparently an Ocracoke institution, and Lorelai had been dying to try their crab cake sandwich. They sat down and ordered—Luke politely but firmly declining the waiter's suggestions of a house microbrew in favor of a Bud Light—then sat looking out the window in a comfortable silence.

Lorelai thought back over the events of the last few days and then over the events of the years that had led up to them being together in this moment. She looked across the table at Luke, at that face she'd come to know so well and love so much. No matter how many times she thought about it, it never ceased to amaze her how many different feelings she had tied up in him. And how long she'd had those feelings. But after thinking back over everything that they'd been through to get to where they were, it was no longer enough to mentally rehash the Great Luke and Lorelai Fairytale she'd built up in her mind. She wanted to talk.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his hand and jiggling it, "let's reminisce."

"About what?"

"About us. Tell me something about us—about me—from before we were an us."

"Lorelai . . ."

"Pleeeease? I know we have this whole 'the first rule about Luke and Lorelai is you don't talk about Luke and Lorelai' thing, but it just seems appropriate, on dis, de day of—"

"Fine, fine." Luke sighed, then looked up, as if trying to conjure the past on the rafters in the restaurant's ceiling. After a moment something seemed to come to him, but he looked at her uncertainly, clearly still not comfortable with Sharing Time.

Lorelai gave him an encouraging smile. "What?"

"Well . . ." He drew a deep breath. "Do you remember that time . . . oh, I dunno, about four or five years ago. . . Sookie and Jackson were on their first date, and you and this psychotic midget were doubling with them, you all came in the diner for burgers . . . then the midget ditched you, and we ended up playing cards at the counter?"

Lorelai's pulse quickened a little and she nodded, hoping he was going to say what she thought he was going to say.

"Well, I almost asked you out that night. In fact, if Mrs. Kim hadn't come busting in looking for the kids, I probably would have."

Lorelai grinned. "I knew it! I thought you were going to. I even gave you an opening a couple of days later, but you were all Danny Zuko, rockin' and rollin' and whatnot, and pretending you didn't remember, and you didn't try again."

"And then Christopher came to town."

"And then Rachel came back."

"You got engaged."

"Jess wrecked Rory's car . . ."

"You told me to go to hell . . ."

". . . a sentiment you returned . . ."

"Christopher again, and the fisherman . . ."

"Nicole . . ."

"You went to Europe . . ."

"You got married. . ."

"Jason . . ."

"You got divorced . . ."

They stared at each other then, the weight of all those years and all those choices and all those near-misses hanging between them. Luke reached over to cover Lorelai's hands with his as she blinked back the tears that burned behind her eyes.

The spell was soon broken by the waiter, and they dug into their food. They ate quietly and slowly, and by the time they left the restaurant the sun was beginning to set. On the ferry ride back to Hatteras, Luke wrapped his arms tightly around Lorelai as they watched the island disappear into the darkness.

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When they got back to the beach house, Luke flopped on to the couch with a groan that was equal parts exhaustion and contentment. Lorelai, however, had other ideas. She went upstairs, rummaged through a closet, and returned a minute later with a large quilt.

"Come on," she said, pulling Luke up off the couch.

"Where?"

"It's our last night here, and I want to see the beach at night."

Luke, who had been passively following her to the door, stopped short and pointed out the window. "Are you nuts? It's pitch black outside. We'll break our necks just trying to get down to the sand."

"God, you're such a Nancy-boy sometimes," Lorelai huffed. She pointed out the same window Luke had just indicated. "Besides, it won't be that dark. Look, there's a full moon out."

She gave another tug on Luke's arm, and they were out the door.

A few minutes later they were situated on the blanket, Lorelai's head against Luke's shoulder and Luke's arm in its customary place around Lorelai's legs. The moon cast just enough light, and it felt like they were the only ones on the beach—or in the world, for that matter.

Lorelai nuzzled Luke's shoulder. "I can't believe we have to go home tomorrow," she whined.

"I know. I am so not looking forward to dealing with Kirk and Taylor after this."

"Oh, great," Lorelai giggled. "We're on a romantic vacation and all my boyfriend can think of is other men."

"Ah, jeez."

"Hey, it's cool, man. I'm totally open-minded about these things."

Luke just grunted, and they sat watching the water, lulled by the roar of the ocean.

After a few minutes, Lorelai turned to face Luke. "Hey," she said, taking his chin in her hand. "I'm really, really, glad we did this."

"Me too."

Luke pressed his mouth to hers, and it wasn't long before he was nibbling and licking at her lower lip. Lorelai opened her mouth with a sigh, and her heart raced as Luke massaged her tongue with his. She moaned as his hands ran through her hair and over the bare skin of her arms, raising goosebumps in the cool breeze. She felt her face begin to flush as Luke kissed and licked a warm, moist trail across her jaw and down her neck.

"You staging your own Burt Lancaster/Debra Kerr moment?" She panted the question, rather than asking it.

"Shhhh." Luke pressed her down onto the blanket, making his intentions very clear.

Lorelai lost herself to his kisses for a few more moments, but when his fingers started making their way under her tank top, she decided to make one more attempt to stop things before they got out of hand. She reluctantly pulled her lips away from his, ready to be the level-headed voice of reason for once.

But then she looked at him. She took in the swollen lips, and the tousled hair, and the eyes that held so much love and so much desire, and all objections flew out of her mind. She pulled his head back to hers, and reveled in the groan he let out when she thrust her tongue back into his mouth.

Luke's hands soon finished their journey, and before Lorelai knew it, her top was somewhere on the other side of the blanket. She gasped as the night air caressed her exposed skin, then moaned as Luke's lips and tongue and hands followed suit, massaging and licking and circling. She felt the coil tightening deep inside her, and fumbled to unbutton Luke's shirt. He pulled away long enough to help her remove it, then pulled her even more tightly to him. They both gasped as their bare skin made contact, and Luke's hands and mouth began moving down her body, leaving her writhing and moaning beneath him. After a few more moments, there were no more barriers left between them. He was inside her and they were moving together, their cries lost in the crash of the waves breaking on the shore.

Afterward, they lay wrapped in the blanket, listening to each other's breathing. Suddenly, Lorelai began giggling uncontrollably.

Luke looked at her in concern. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just that I now have sand in all sorts of places I'm pretty sure sand doesn't belong."

"Oh, do you want to go back to the house?" Luke moved to get up, but Lorelai pulled him back down.

"Nuh-uh. Let's just stay here for a little while longer."

They lay in silence for a few more moments.

"Lorelai?"

"Uh-huh?"

"You know we can't spend the night down here, right?"

"Uh-huh."

And with that, they both drifted off to sleep.

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A/N: Yes, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is a real book—shout out to you, Big Bri! Additional shout out to Capn Fotblossom for pointing out the Gilmorian resonances in Madding Crowd. The Hornby is a shout-out to myself. I'm a huge fan.

Next Up: All good things must come to an end.