A/N: I have no idea whether I got the timeline right (I think I might have added an extra day in there or something), but trying to figure out Gilmore time gives me a headache, and I would rather not have to watch "Blame Booze and Melville" again. I'm going with Daniel's theory that you actually can tell if you're pregnant two days after it happens, because it's just easier that way.

The next day, Lorelai found herself so buried in paperwork, reservations, broken banisters, and Michel's whining that she hardly had time to breathe, let alone eat or find some coffee. She was running up the stairs yet again (she had to remember to wear better shoes!) to make sure the maid had not mixed up the dirty towels with the clean towels, when Michel caught up to her.

"Geez, Lorelai. You're like that insipid cartoon who runs around all day jumping off cliffs. I do not have time for cartoons," said Michel.

"What do you want, Michel?"

"There is a phone call for you."

"Can you take a message? I'm a little busy here," bratted Lorelai.

"Yes, I can see, training for the Beijing games," he said to Lorelai. Back into the phone, he said, "I'm sorry Luke, she's going to have to –"

Lorelai snatched the phone out of his hand. "Give me that! What is wrong with you?"

"That was fun," said Michel, as he darted away.

"Hi!" said Lorelai, into the phone.

"What the hell is going on over there?" inquired Luke.

"Oh, nothing seven little people and maybe some singing birds and mice wouldn't fix. What's up with you?"

"Are you coming in for lunch?"

"Can't have lunch. No time for lunch."

"You want me to bring you something?"

"Nah, I'll just mooch from the kitchen here. Thanks, though. I'll talk to you later?"

"You bet."

They both hung up with a sigh, knowing that was the closest they would come to seeing each other for a few days. Lorelai was stuck picking up the slack left in Sookie's absence and Michel's, well, existence, and Luke was so busy obsessing over the Twickham house that he found himself frantically playing catch up whenever he deigned to pay attention to the diner.

An idea started forming in Luke's head, while he thanked god for small favors named Lane and Cesar. He made up two gigantic cheeseburgers, some onion rings, a plate of chili fries, and a salad just for good measure. He packaged it all up, stuck some donuts in the bag, filled a couple of to go cups with coffee, and handed it all to Lane.

"Can you bring this to the Dragonfly please and give it to Lorelai?" Luke would've brought it himself, but this was the first time all day he had actually spent an extended amount of time in his own diner, and couldn't get away. Lane willingly obliged, as usual, and started out the door. Luke stopped her before she left though, scrawled something on a napkin, and stuck it in the bag. "And don't take any money from her, ok?"

"You got it, boss," said Lane, and left for good this time. Luke thought it was amusing that Lane, the kid he had known since she was two, called him boss, but whatever. He didn't have time to dwell on it, because he spotted Taylor outside and ran out to corner him.

Meanwhile, Lorelai was wrapping up a phone call at the inn when Lane walked in. Lane could hear strains of the conversation the second she walked in, and she knew it couldn't be good.

"Mother," Lorelai was saying, "I am not discussing this with you… I know you don't like him… I've tried to tell you what I think about that, but you won't listen, and therefore I am not discussing this with you."

As she hung up the phone in disgust, she spotted Lane carrying a gigantic 'Luke's' bag.

"Lane! Fancy meeting you here."

"You know, I thought I would take a little walk on my lunch break."

"What's that?" inquired Lorelai, already peeking into the bag.

"This is for you," said Lane, handing it over.

"All this, just for me? Why, I'm flattered, but you really shouldn't have."

"I didn't. Luke did."

"Really?" Lorelai squealed, not disguising her delight very well.

This amused Lane greatly. "Luke said he would've brought it himself, but he just couldn't get away. And then he mumbled something about how if he came over here, he would never leave, or he would leave, but he would probably be missing some important article of clothing, which frankly, is a little bit too much information."

"I'll say," squealed Lorelai, again. She couldn't help it. However, she pulled herself together, put the bag down on the desk, and pulled out her wallet.

"Here," she said, handing Lane a twenty, "thank Luke for me."

"Oh no. I'm not allowed to take money from you."

"Why not?"

"I don't know! I don't know what sort of arrangement you two have – and please – don't tell me."

"Well, just slip it into the register and don't tell him where you got it."

"He'll know."

"How?"

"He's Luke. He knows things."

"Hmm. You're right. Well just consider it a really big tip then."

With that, Lane disappeared. Lorelai took the bag into her office, not wanting to share with anyone, and sat down, probably for the first time all day. She unpacked the massive amounts of food, and laughed when she saw the salad Luke had tried to sneak in. She bit into the cheeseburger, and it immediately dripped all sorts of condiments everywhere. She went in search of a napkin, and found the one Luke had written on. She read it, forgetting about the mess she was making for a second.

Lorelai,

Thought you could use some sustenance. I know this isn't the same as eating leftovers from other people's plates, but I hope it's to your liking.

I love you.

Lorelai put down the burger and closed her eyes for a second, reveling in the fact that not only had Luke fed her, but he had found a way to brighten her day by writing three words on a napkin. That took talent, she thought. She slipped the napkin into her purse, not quite sure what she was going to do with it, but not quite ready to throw it out either. One thing she was not going to do was tell Luke she had saved it, as she was pretty sure she would never hear the end of that one.

Later that week, Lorelai was covering the desk for Michel, when it dawned on her that she and Luke hadn't had sex in what felt like a really long time. Hell, forget sex. They hadn't even seen each other in a couple of days. The closest they'd come was three days ago, after Luke had sent her that awesome lunch-o-gram, and she had stopped by the diner on her way home, only to find Luke so embroiled in a phone conversation with Taylor that he refused to even look at her. She knew something was up – that had been happening a lot, and the last time she checked, Luke and Taylor were not exactly Joey and Chandler. However, once again, she had neither the time nor the patience to try and wrangle it out of Luke, especially since she knew Patty's phone would inevitably pick up one of their conversations, and she would find out from her eventually.

Not wanting to think about Taylor for one more second, Lorelai tried to hatch a plan to get Luke alone for a while so she could seduce him. Not that much seduction would be needed, she was sure, but it was still fun to plan. Just as her fantasy of somehow locking Luke in her office and having her way with him was starting to garner an NC-17 rating, Michel burst into the lobby carrying a box of magazines.

"Lorelai!" he shrieked, pulling Lorelai out of her fantasy and causing her to blush much more than she would like. "Look! It's so pretty!" screeched Michel.

"Let me see," said Lorelai, as calmly as she could muster. As much as she didn't want to sound like Michel, she couldn't help but be pretty damn excited. Her inn, the one she had dreamed about owning for years and years, was not only successful, but on the cover of a magazine. She'd always wanted someone besides Rory to be so interested in her life that they felt the need to write an article about it. Upon glancing at the article, she felt a slight twinge when she realized that the writer had indeed published all the nasty things she had said about her mother. Oh well, she figured, now is as good a time as any for her mother to find out what she thought about her. It's not like they were planning on re-enacting Terms of Endearment anytime soon, and Lorelai still had enough lingering resentment from the whole Christopher showing up at the wedding fiasco that she didn't much care.

She grabbed a couple copies and headed over to Luke's, so she could brag to one more person about her prestige in the hotel industry. They agreed to get dressed up and be chauffered to the fancy party the magazine was throwing for her, but Lorelai couldn't help but hope that she had enough energy to get through the evening. She knew she couldn't back out of this gathering, but really all she wanted was to get Luke alone.

Later, as she was primping for the party, it occurred to her that although she and Luke had decided that it was good for her career and such to be social once in a while, no one said they couldn't have their own private little after party. She changed out of the demure pants suit she had chosen, and instead put on one of the skimpiest dresses she owned, coupled with the perfume she knew drove Luke crazy. She grabbed her purse and filled it with the necessities – lip gloss, nail polish remover, her cell phone, and a condom from her nightstand, because, if she remembered correctly from the last time she was over there, Luke's nightstand was a sad state of affairs, and she wasn't taking any chances. She forgot all about the napkin that was still crumpled on the bottom of her purse. Finally satisfied with her outfit and choice of accessories, she rushed down the stairs right as the doorbell rang.

Luke took one look at her and felt his cheeks start to redden. He was amazed at her ability to render him practically speechless just by putting on a dress and some perfume. He wondered whether she knew that despite the effect she was having on him right now, most days, just her smile was all he needed in life. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson?"

"Something like that," said Lorelai huskily, as she snaked her arms around his neck.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" said Luke, rather matter of factly for a man who'd just been practically jumped by a very beautiful woman wearing a very short dress.

"Are you sure we have to go to this thing?" whined Lorelai.

"Believe me, I would like nothing else but to take that dress off of you right here, but my dear, our chariot awaits," Luke said, moving aside so Lorelai could get a glimpse of the fabulous limo the magazine had sent for them.

Regaining her composure, Lorelai's mouth flew open in excitement. "Cool!" she exclaimed, and, "please never speak to me in prince charming language again. It makes me feel like I'm going to be locked up in a tower, helpless, until my man comes to rescue me."

"You mean that's not one of your fantasies?"

"I'm not into submissive."

"Duly noted."

The next morning, Lorelai woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Although it took her a second to remember why she had the mother of all hangovers, the night before quickly came back to her as she glanced around Luke's apartment. As she got out of bed to survey the damage, she tried to remember the events of the previous night. Had they… had sex… on a pool table? No, no that was the Friends rerun she had fallen asleep watching the other night. There was a limo, right? Yup, that was more like it. Damn, she thought, that sure beats the balcony in my parents' house. Score one for Luke.

She remembered how heated things got after that, how they couldn't wait to rip each others' clothes off the second they stepped into Luke's apartment, and if Luke's floor was any evidence, they had certainly succeeded. However, nowhere in there did she remember going into her purse. Locating said purse, she sat down on Luke's bed, knowing he wouldn't be up for a while, and fished through it. Sure enough, buried beneath the lip gloss and her dead cell phone, was the condom she had thrown in there. "Great," she muttered to herself, as she pulled it out and stuck it in Luke's nightstand. She didn't notice that while she was doing this, the napkin-note had also fluttered out of her purse and onto the floor, landing right next to Luke's boxers.

Sometime later, Luke woke up with the mother of all hangovers. It took him a couple minutes to figure out why he was sleeping on the wrong side of the bed, but seeing Lorelai's unmistakable mountain of pillows on the other side of the bed tipped him off. Looking at the clock, he figured she was long gone, and sighed at the thought. One night together after so long apart, and he didn't even get to wake up with her in the morning? That wasn't how it was supposed to go. He sighed even longer when he reminded himself that they could be doing this a lot (well minus the drinking like college students at a frat party) in the near future, if Lorelai took that job. He wasn't sure if he would be able to handle only seeing her in passing, as she unpacked one suitcase just to pack another. As it stood he wasn't a big fan of having her rush home in the mornings just so she could shower and get dressed for work, but he was still looking for the right time to ask her to live with him.

As he made his way into the bathroom, he noticed that his small table was set with some kind of breakfast. There was a glass of orange juice, two aspirin sitting next to it, and a bagel on a plate. A napkin sitting on top of the bagel read, "For you. Love, Lorelai." Luke was amazed at how she could brighten his day by writing four words on a napkin.

He let himself revel in the moment for just a second, and then continued towards the bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he slipped on a crumpled up napkin on his floor. He picked it up, getting ready to throw it out, when he noticed it had writing on it. His handwriting. It was the note he had left for Lorelai days and days ago when he had made lunch for her. The one he didn't even remember writing until right now, when he realized that the only way for it to end up back in his apartment is if it had fallen out of Lorelai's purse. He laughed out loud thinking, "I'm going to give her so much crap about this."

Meanwhile, Lorelai had spent most of her morning trying not to dwell on her oversight from the night before. She still had a slight hangover, and thinking about the possible complications that came from the making of that hangover was giving her an even bigger headache. She decided to put it out of her head until she could come up with a rational way to work through this problem. However, just as she was doing this, Luke walked in, looking just as cuddly as ever, if not a little puffy eyed just like herself.

"Hey," he greeted her, leaning way over the desk to be closer to her. "I think you left something in my apartment."

"My dignity?"

"Ha ha. No, this," he said, as he proudly produced the slowly disintegrating napkin that had fallen out of her purse.

"That's not mine," she said, lying badly.

"Liar. I can't believe you kept this stupid thing."

"You're one to talk," she muttered, though Luke could tell she was not amused. She actually looked uncharacteristically hurt, he thought, and decided it was in his best interest to stop making fun of her.

"You ok?" he asked, this time with genuine concern.

By way of response, Lorelai snapped, "gimme that," snatching the napkin out of his hand and putting it back in her purse.

"Lorelai, what is the matter?"

"Nothing. I have a lot of work to do. I'll see you later." With that, Lorelai walked away, leaving Luke to wonder what the hell he had done wrong.

As she walked away, she just grew more and more angry. She couldn't believe that after everything that had happened between last night and this morning, the only reason Luke had come over there was to make fun of her. Had he really not noticed the same thing she had? She knew that most of the time, she was the one who worried and fretted over birth control, but how could he be so irresponsible as to not notice when they hadn't used any? Whatever, she thought. She wanted to chalk it up to the fact that men couldn't be trusted with this sort of thing, but that wasn't putting a whole lot of faith in Luke, or the male species for that matter, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with that.

She spent the rest of the day just trying to forget about it once again, and busied herself running interference between Manny and Michel.

That evening, Lorelai sat in her living room, about to fall asleep before nine once again. She decided that was unacceptable and that she was sorely in need of some girl talk. She picked up the phone and dialed her best friend.

"Hi mom!" said Rory in her high pitched squeal, the one she had seemed to adopt ever since she started hanging out with that Logan kid. It made Lorelai wonder if Logan had some sort of baby fetish. It also made Lorelai wonder whether Rory even realized she was doing it.

"Whoa, Rory, take the baby voice down a notch."

"What are you talking about?" asked Rory, in her "my mom is crazy voice."

"That's better. So what's up?"

"Just getting ready to go out."

"What did you want to talk about the other day?"

"Oh, nothing, I've already got it figured out."

"Oh, okay. Are you going out with Logan?"

"If I say yes, are you going to make a face?"

"How will you be able to tell if I make a face?"

"I can tell. You're doing it right now."

"I am not making a face," exclaimed Lorelai, even though she could tell she was frowning at the thought of Rory going out with Logan while Lorelai watched movies by herself.

"So, did I tell you that Mitchum Huntzberger offered me an internship at the Stamford paper?"

"No. Mitchum Huntzberger, huh? Well, as long as you think it's going to help. Every little thing counts, right?"

"Yeah. I'm already on a first name basis with all the reporters and the guy who runs the coffee truck."

"How long have you been working there?"

"I dunno, two weeks."

"Rory, you've been working there two weeks and you're telling me now?"

"It's no big deal. I gotta go – Logan's here. I think we're going to a party on a yacht. Exciting, huh?"

"Yeah, swell. Rory, hun, I wanted to ask you –" Lorelai was interrupted by the loud knocking on Rory's door.

"Gotta go. I'll call you later," said Rory, and off went the phone.

"Great," Lorelai muttered to herself. She had lost track of how many times she had done that that day. She didn't understand what was going on between her and Rory. Not to be dramatic or anything, but she felt like she was losing her best friend. And right then, she was in severe need of some girl talk, and she had no one to indulge with her. Sookie was out of the question, because she was about to pop any second, and she couldn't call Luke because, well, he was a man, and he was sort of the source of her problems right then. Besides, she'd been kind of a jerk to him earlier and wasn't ready to apologize yet. Lorelai hadn't felt this lonely since that one time she and Luke had broken up, and she didn't like it one bit.

The next day, Sookie went into labor, and all of Lorelai's ministrations to try to avoid dealing with her own possible pregnancy flew out the window. Everything from driving Sookie to the hospital, to her random apple craving, to getting emotional over the babies in the nursery sent her own radar into overdrive. She couldn't take it anymore – she had to know, and she had to know what Luke was thinking before she could even deal with it herself.

As soon as she knew Sookie and her newborn were going to be okay, she started for home, stopping in the hospital pharmacy to pick up one of those pee on a stick pregnancy tests, which she shoved into the bottom of her purse.

When she approached Stars Hollow, she steeled herself for the conversation she was about to have. As much as she dreaded it, she just had to know what Luke was thinking. Heck, she wasn't even sure what she was thinking.

Lorelai sat down at her usual table in the diner, and let Luke watch her down a whole mug of coffee and a cheeseburger before she realized what she was doing. She wasn't saying much, which puzzled Luke, but he decided to let her have her space. He knew she would talk when she was ready.

He approached her table, asking if she wanted more coffee.

"Of course," replied Lorelai, trying to look like her usual chipper self, and then, "Wait! I mean no. I mean, do you have any decaf?" Great, Lorelai, she thought, way to blow your cover.

"What?" asked Luke, incredulous. He still had no idea where this was going.

"Yeah, um, I want decaf," said Lorelai, a bit impatiently.

"Why would you want that?" asked Luke.

After letting her mind wander for a few seconds, Lorelai realized that Luke was still waiting for a response. "What? Oh, never mind. No coffee for me. Just pie."

Luke chose not to respond to this, and went to get her pie, despite how weird she was acting. When he came back, she was still doing the weird staring thing, and barely noticed his presence.

"Ok, that's it!" he exclaimed, "What is wrong with you?"

"Me? No, nothing. Why?"

"Because when you say no to coffee, it usually means there's something wrong."

"Right. Can you sit down for a minute? And take that coffee away from me."

Luke sat down, but was all nervous and fidgety. Lorelai noticed, which only made her stall even more. She didn't say anything.

"Lorelai," said Luke, "If you're not going to talk to me then I have to go. I have customers," he explained as he got up and started to walk away.

Lorelai decided to stop being a baby and just get it over with already. "I think I might be pregnant," she blurted.

Luke dropped the coffeepot he was still holding, making a gigantic mess and grabbing the attention of Kirk and Taylor, the only other customers in the diner. He and Lorelai watched the mess grow for a few seconds, desperately trying to read the looks on each other's faces. Lorelai knew this conversation would be awkward, but she had hoped that for once in her life, she could drop a bombshell on someone she loved and receive comfort… not broken coffee pots, in return. Realistically though, she knew this was asking too much from the moment, and that once Luke stopped doing his David Schwimmer impression, he would provide all the comfort she needed… right?

Luke walked toward the storage room, Lorelai right behind him.

She started again, "I don't know for sure, so don't, you know, freak out or anything." She knew it was too late, he had already lost it, but felt the need to try anyway.

Luke started pacing frantically around the storage room, much to Lorelai's amusement.

"Luke, what on earth are you doing?"

"Looking for the mop."

Lorelai looked behind her and spotted a mop right next to the door. "You mean this one?" she asked, picking it up.

"Yeah, thanks," said Luke absentmindedly, grabbing it out of her hand. She followed him back into the diner, and watched him fruitlessly try to clean up the ever growing puddle of coffee.

"Hey Luke?"

"Yes, Lorelai."

"Can you maybe ask Cesar to do that?"

"Why?"

Lorelai was exasperated. "LUKE!"

Lorelai's shouting brought Luke back into reality, as he slumped back down into the chair. "Yeah, okay," he grumbled, and finally, after a long pause which included Luke studying the pattern on the linoleum, he managed half a sentence. "But… How… When… Why?" he sputtered, much to his own annoyance. Lorelai was obviously shaken up about this, and he couldn't even muster two words of support.

"Do you really want me to answer that? Because if so, then we really have a problem," said Lorelai, slipping back into her familiar sarcasm.

Luke attempted to respond again. "But… I… don't understand…"

"Oh, god, high school flashbacks."

Somehow, this was enough to knock some sense back into Luke, and he responded with, "I know there's something I'm supposed to say here, I'm just not quite sure what it is."

"That's a little better. I'm craving apples."

"Huh?"

"When I was pregnant with Rory, all I wanted to eat were apples. Now, you know I don't normally crave fruit, so when all I wanted to eat yesterday were apples, I thought something must be up, you know? So I went and bought one of those home pregnancy tests – and boy have those things changed since I was sixteen. Did you know they now make them so that it literally tells you whether you're pregnant or not, no colors involved?"

"Uh, yeah, I did know that."

"So do not want to know why."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Was it…"

"I haven't done it yet."

"Well, why the hell not?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you wouldn't freak out. Glad to see it's working."

Some time later, Lorelai and Luke sat in Luke's bed, ready to go to sleep, though neither one felt much like sleeping. They were not touching, or talking, or doing anything to make the situation less awkward, and it was killing Lorelai. She knew they had to talk about this, but Luke didn't seem too eager to begin the conversation at all.

Lorelai had no idea what to do. She had not expected him to respond like… this. She was used to his stoicism, for the most part, but after her conversation with Rory last night, she really needed a shoulder to cry on, and Luke was not doing a very good job providing one.

Luke thought of a million different things he could say to her right now, but none of them seemed good enough. 'Now's as good a time as any,' he thought, to tell her of his plans for the Twickham house, but she seemed so disappointed in the possibility of being pregnant, that he didn't want to scare her into thinking she had to stay just so they could have babies. He could see on her face that she really needed him to be supportive right then, but he was having trouble coming up with what that was.

Finally, Lorelai couldn't take it any more. She gathered whatever was left of her courage, and said… "So." Good one, Lorelai. Sitting here talking in half sentences is really going to make this conversation go smoother, she thought.

Luke responded with, "So."

"Are we going to talk about this?" asked Lorelai, knowing full well that his answer was going to be no, but figured it was worth a shot.

"Damn. I was trying to avoid it."

"Well, it's been a few hours, and while I usually enjoy your silent-stoic thing, I gotta tell you, it's starting to wear me out."

"Goodnight, Lorelai." With that, Luke turned off the light, turned away from her and squished down onto his pillow, hoping she would get the hint. She didn't.

"Do you remember what you said to me once?" asked Lorelai, in that voice of hers that told him that even if he didn't remember (which, of course he did, and he knew exactly what she was referring to), she would tell him anyway.

Instead of telling her that, Luke said, "I don't want to talk about this."

"I think we need to."

Luke still didn't answer her. He didn't know what he was so reluctant to say, but he knew if he said it, out loud, in words, it would be much scarier to deal with. So he didn't.

Lorelai continued, "We were at that stupid dance marathon, and my shoe broke, and Jackson was yelling at me for giving Sookie advice about how many kids she should have, or something like that, and you said, 'if I ever meet the right person, there would be a conversation."

"Uh huh."

"Luke?"

"Yep."

"Am I the right person?"

Luke could tell Lorelai was staring at him, despite the darkness in the room. Luke knew that Lorelai knew exactly why he wasn't talking to her, and that she was going to get it out of him, so he might as well tell her. He reached over and turned the light back on, looking at her pointedly. "Fine, yes, ok."

"Ok what?"

"I think it would be nice." Lorelai never thought she would hear Luke say those words in reference to her, but she tried to keep her cool. She knew if she acted like the 12 year old with a crush that she felt like right then, he would clam up again and never ever admit that he liked her ever again.

"What would?" she asked tentatively.

"You know, a family. The whole stupid thing – a house, a wife, a kid, maybe a goldfish," said Luke, a bit sheepish.

"A goldfish?"

"Well, you know, dogs are so messy."

"Dogs are messy?"

"Yes."

"Messier than kids?"

"Lorelai!"

A few moments passed, the two still a little afraid to look at each other. Neither knew what exactly what they were afraid was going to happen if they did, but something about this conversation forced them to keep their distance a little while longer.

After a long pause, Lorelai broke the silence again. "Hey, Luke?"

"Huh?"

"Is this why you were suddenly interested in the Twickham house?"

"I've always wanted to have a family in that house," Luke finally confessed, and then, "how did you know?"

"Miss Patty's phone picks up other people's conversations, remember?"

Lorelai could hardly contain the rush of emotions she felt upon hearing Luke say that. Not that she was running to Home Depot or anything, she liked her old house, but all these years she had wondered what Luke's dreams were, whether or not he wanted a girlfriend, a family, children. Now she got to find out that not only did he want it, but he wanted it with her and no one else. "Oh, Luke," she said, through the tears that were forming in her eyes, "why didn't you tell me? Last week, you were all, 'I hate kids,' and 'Kirk so closely resembles a child that I want to kick his ass all the way back to his mother's house.' What changed in the last week?"

"Nothing changed. I just didn't want you to know. I was afraid you would think I was crazy."

"I do think you're crazy," she said, gazing at him with a love in her eyes that he hadn't seen before.

"Look who's talking," he said, glancing over at her.

"But Luke," she started again, "don't you think that starting a family and buying a house would have involved consulting me at some point? Unless you're planning on impregnating me without my knowledge. Oh no! That's what you were doing isn't it? This was part of your evil plan all along..."

Luke couldn't believe what she was saying. He looked at her, horrified.

"I'm just kidding," she said, smugly.

"God, Lorelai. Like I would ever..."

"Geez Luke, calm down. I was just kidding."

"So do you... want more kids?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it until... today, I guess. I mean, seeing Sookie and Jackson all aglow and excited about their family, it just made me wonder, you know?"

"Wonder what?"

"What it would have been like. If I had had that with Rory. I mean, I wouldn't trade my experience with Rory for anything... except... well maybe the one I'm having right now, but anyway, I always thought that if I had the chance to do it again, I would do it right. Get married, buy a Volvo or some such ridiculous vehicle, have a kid, get a dog. Sorry, no goldfish in my future plans, hun."

"Volvos get terrible gas mileage," Luke joked, but added, "You know, you told me this once before."

Lorelai was amazed that he remembered stupid things she said to him just as well as she recalled all the stupid conversations they'd had in the past. She remembered the moment vividly. "I did?"

"It was when..."

"... Christopher told me Sherry was pregnant. I remember."

"Yeah. So lemme ask you something. This family you've always envisioned. Was it really him all those years that you pictured?"

Lorelai hadn't even thought about Christopher in ages. Besides the few lunches they had, and the mishap at her parents' wedding, he hadn't even entered her mind in years. "I don't think so. I think it was more the concept I was interested in. Do you remember what you said to me that day? There I was, pouring my heart out to you, as usual, even though I knew you weren't particularly interested in hearing about my pathetic love life. And you just stood there, like you knew exactly what you were talking about, and said, 'you will have that."

"What can I say, I am a man of many talents. Including, apparently, clairvoyance."

With that, Lorelai squished down next to him, hugging his midsection. Luke enjoyed the moment, taking time to run his fingers through Lorelai's hair, and enjoying the silence this time, because they finally seemed to have their thoughts in sync.

However, there were still unanswered questions, and Lorelai broke the silence. "So am I?"

"Are you what?"

"The right person."

"Well, we're having the conversation, aren't we?"

"God, Luke, what would you have done if I were really pregnant?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"Yeah, right. You were real smooth downstairs with all the coffee-spilling and mop-getting shenanigans."

"At least I wouldn't feed our kid endless caffeine and junk food."

"Hey, I stand by my dietary choices. Rory turned out just fine, didn't she?"

"Probably because she inherited your crazy gene."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"I'm tired. I'll think of a better comeback in the morning."

"Looking forward to it."