A/N: I'm having a hell of a time treating the the three issues at hand with equal sensitivity. Themes of death, love and lust are really difficult to balance out, and I'm not sure about what I've gotten myself into. I'd love some feedback with regard to this matter in particular.

Again, thanks to all who are staying with me on this story and being so encouraging.

Luke recognized the feeling in the pit of his stomach from that childhood vacation in Atlantic City, when he and Liz had tried to set the world record for Most Roller Coaster Rides in six hours. She'd gotten sick after the fourth or fifth ride, so he just kept going by himself until he could barely stand, while she sat nearby and watched.

He wasn't sure why he kept going on that stupid roller coaster, and the guys who were working the coaster sneered and made comments every time they helped him in or out of the car- but he just couldn't stop himself from getting back in line once the ride was over. Finally, Liz ran to get their parents and his dad had to come and haul him away.

That's exactly what he felt like as he and Lorelai deplaned onto the tarmac at the Santa Barbara Airport, just after midnight. The landing hadn't been smooth at all, and when coupled with an empty stomach and an evening of soul-wrenching longing, he knew that alka-seltzer was definitely in order.

"Hey look, palm trees! I thought that was just a myth," said Lorelai as they neared the building. The small, mission-style airport was covered in pink bougainvillea vines and surrounded by tall, gentle palms. "Luke, can you believe this? We're in California. Man, I always wanted to come here as a kid."

"God, why?"

"Oh, you know, have lunch at the Brown Derby with Lucy and Desi, then drive the T-Bird down to the beach with Frankie and Annette."

"Yeah, too bad they're all dead. Now it's just the land of migrant farm workers and scientology."

She didn't respond, save a gesture to the sign that indicated baggage claim
.

He breathed deeply as they walked, relishing the un-recycled air. He could smell the ocean, something else that reminded him of his childhood.

They gathered their bags at the carousel and exited the small building, waiting out front for the hotel's shuttle to arrive. Luke dropped the luggage and sat down, leaning his arms up across the back of the bench. After a minute, Lorelai joined him, fitting herself into the welcoming crook of his arm.

They both gazed out, noticing the outline of the mountains on one side, and the sound of the ocean wafting from the other. The room-temperature air wasn't heady with moisture as it was back east, and the exotic foliage waved quietly in the breeze. "I can see why Mia loved it here," she said mournfully.

Luke dropped his arm onto her shoulders and gave her a small squeeze. "Yeah. Me too."

By the time they checked in and made it up to the room, it was almost 2 a.m. Luke's body was completely exhausted, but he was mentally wide awake.

He stepped through the doorway ahead of Lorelai, following the bellboy, and quickly deduced that she hadn't been joking. Taking up almost the entire square footage of the room was one king-sized, four-poster bed.

"What, didn't you believe me?" she asked with a smirk, coming up behind him.
.

He turned his gaze toward her from the bed and regarded her a moment. "Lorelai… did you plan this?" he asked cautiously.

"Plan what, the bed situation?" Luke noted the waver in her voice. "Don't be stupid, of course not, I told you that a couple had reserved the room before us and the whole place is booked to capacity. I asked for two queen beds, but they didn't have any available. This was the last room they had."

She looked at the bellboy, who nodded and agreed. "That's true, we're all booked up, sir, this is the only room left."

"But if you really want, we can get you a cot," she offered. "After all, you did lose the game, and a cot would probably be more comfortable than the floor." She was giving him devious smile.

He glared at her and growled, "The floor will be fine." He tipped the bellman and shooed him out.

Luke made his way over to the bedside table and began undoing the clasp on his watch. He glanced down and saw that the phone's light was flashing red. "Is this for us?"

"Yeah, I guess we have a message," Lorelai responded, and flopped down on the bed face-down, reaching across for the phone. "God, I'm wiped," she said to herself as she pressed the buttons on the keypad.

She listened intently as Luke sat on the bed next to her, unlacing his shoes. "Two messages. First is from Rory." She paused. "She said she's going to try and get an extension on her final paper so that she can fly out here and meet us."

Luke slid off his socks and stuffed them in his shoes. "Good. She should be here."

"Second message is from Donald. He says the service is Saturday, the day after tomorrow, and the reading of the will is Sunday. Gimme a pad."

She scribbled down an address and a phone number, then replaced the handset with a sigh.

"Okay so, Donald said that Mia had been working on her will and estate stuff just before she… you know, passed away, but they're still not sure what she wanted done with a lot of her things. They want both of us there early on Sunday, along with anyone else who knew her really well, to help sort some things out."

"Okay."

She looked really worried. He studied her carefully, knowing that she must be thinking about how hard it was going to be to go through Mia's things.

Luke knew that, for a lot of people, this was undoubtedly the toughest part. Having to disassemble the life of a person you care about is incredibly difficult, submerging yourself in their world and piecing it out to other relatives, other people.

After his mother had died, Liz had spent days sitting in her mom's closet, touching everything and smelling her clothes.

But the toughest part for Luke, after his mother passed away, was the feeling of helplessness that hit him every time he looked at Liz and his dad.

His father, from that day forward, always seemed feeble, almost vulnerable in Luke's eyes. He'd gone from being his son's hero, a strong and capable man, to a completely powerless one. And there was nothing Luke could do about any of that.

His mom being gone was bad enough, but he didn't know how to deal with the hollow shell of a father that she left behind.

His sister, on the other hand, went out of control. Luke couldn't stop that, either. It was like she'd sucked the life out of her dad and injected it into own her veins. She was constantly moving, from boyfriend to boyfriend, drug to drug, and eventually, town to town, and just as he couldn't revive his father, he couldn't put the brakes on Liz.

Losing his mother had been tough. But losing the rest of his family was even harder. And that was something he'd dedicated his life to preventing, whether by being fiercely protective of those he loved, or trying his hardest not to love at all.

He had loved very few people with such ferocity. His father had passed on, Liz had always refused his help, and Rachel had thrown his feelings back in his face so often that they had completely disintegrated.

There were only two people left in his life now, two that he loved so aggressively. Lorelai was one of them - for what she had become, so incredibly single-minded and self-sufficient - and Rory, for what she couldn't help but be. And the thought of any harm coming to either of them made him feel sick to his stomach. He glanced back over to Lorelai.

"Hey, we're in this together," he said, scooting closer. He placed his hand on her lower back. She had her head buried in her arms, still sprawled across the bed.

Her voice came out muffled. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just really tired, I think."

"Lorelai, you're going to be fine," he said sincerely, lightly rubbing her back as he spoke.

She uncovered her face and shifted onto her side, taking hold of his hand as he slid it off her back and onto his own lap.

"Hey Luke?" She peered up into his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you're here."

Luke felt his cheeks burn and his heart swell. "I'm glad you are too. And I'm glad that you don't have to be alone."

There followed a long drowsy silence, both reflecting on the fact that though they may have lost someone, they still had each other.

"Are you… do you want to go to bed?" Luke finally asked. He rubbed her arm, as casually as possible, with his free hand.

"Yes, I'm exhausted. And we should get up as early as possible tomorrow, what with the time difference and everything."

"Good idea," said Luke.

He mustered up a bit of courage and finally asked, "Should I… send down for a cot?"

A smile crept up Lorelai's mouth as she rolled over onto her back, her head hanging off the edge. "It depends. Do you think you can figure out a way to get me coffee?"

"Lorelai, its 2:30 in the morning."

"And you think this curbs my craving?"

"Okay, so you're saying that if I find a way to get you a cup of coffee, you'll save me from sleeping on a cot the size of a two-by-four?"

"Yes," she replied. Her eyes were shining.

"Fine."

He let her hand slide off of his as he rose from the bed. The reality of sleeping with her was hitting him and he was having some trouble breathing.

'How the hell am I going to come up with a cup of coffee?' Luke thought to himself as he walked away from her. Room service was almost certainly shut down for the night, and there wasn't much nearby, from what he'd seen. He scratched the top of his cap, trying to come up with something.

He vaguely considered getting in a cab and driving around until he found something that was open, but that might seem like a bit of a desperate move. He didn't want to seem too eager, even though he could barely hear for the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

As he racked his brain, he absent-mindedly wandered into the bathroom and suddenly realized that he was staring at a coffee maker.

"There's a coffee maker in here!" He exclaimed uncharacteristically. "Do all hotel rooms have this?"

Lorelai giggled. "Of course they do."

"Oh, easier than I thought, then." He set about filling the pot with water, smiling to himself.

"That's what all the men say about me," Lorelai hollered from the other room.

She hauled herself off the bed and began sorting through her luggage. She'd brought a variety of choices for sleepwear, from thick flannel pajamas to a satin slip, and she mulled over her options carefully.

Her heart was beating through her chest, though she wasn't sure if it was because she was about to share her bed with a man, which she felt like she hadn't done in ages, or whether it was because that man was Luke.

She wanted to look nice, she didn't want to seem like she was trying to seduce him or anything. This was a crucial decision.

"Just wear what you would normally wear," Luke piped in her ear.

"AH!" She jumped a foot in the air, nearly knocking over the cup of coffee he was holding out for her. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Here's your coffee. And no need to cover up for me. It's not like I'm going to try anything, so feel free to dress like either Paris Hilton or Nanook of the North." He gestured to her heavy flannel. "Doesn't matter to me," he mumbled, secretly praying that he looked like he was playing it cool.

"And what are you drinking?"

"Alka-Seltzer," he replied, taking a sip.

"So the thought of sleeping with me makes you sick to your stomach, huh?"

"Sick with fear, maybe," he rallied back, a smirk on his face.

"Well, don't worry Danes, I'm not planning on trying anything either." She gave him a look that caused goosebumps on his arms and neck.

She sipped her coffee and, without another word, picked up the small, satin slip and sauntered into the bathroom to change.

TBC