A thick blanket of moths coated the front door of the cabin. Luke threw pebbles from a distance of fifteen feet until they had all fluttered away; he rushed Lorelai and himself inside, before they scampered through the air after them.

Luke had laid a fresh flannel on her bed while she showered quickly; Lorelai had finished off the last of the Oreos while he took his turn. Too bad they hadn't caught anything; fish would be good right now.

She was crawling under the sheets when he'd emerged from the steamy bathroom. Lying on her back, hands on her stomach, lamp still on when he walked past in his towel.

He stopped in her doorway when he saw her, trying to come up with something, some final line that would segue their day into its end.

She sat up when she noticed his presence. "Yeah?" Eyed the towel locked firmly around his hips.

"Oh.. I uh, just wanted to say goodnight." He scratched at his dripping hair. Waited for her response.

"Right. Um, goodnight Luke." She flicked off her lamp and listened to his footsteps padding across the floor. She turned on her side, clamping her eyes shut, willing herself to fall asleep. Frowning when realizing sleep was nowhere near.

Luke was near, though. In the other room, actually. Down the hall. Probably slipping himself underneath the covers. Probably seconds away from sleep.

She shot upright, swiveled her legs over the mattress, and tip-toed out her door. There wasn't light pouring from his room, so she hesitated just outside. Seconds were slipping by, but she knew that the longer she stood there the angrier he'd be when she finally did knock. So she knocked.

"Yeah?" His answer was muffled by the door.

She wrung her hands and winced. She hadn't planned this far. "Oh, well I just..." She flung her hands in the air. You what, Lorelai? "Was cold and wondered if there was another blanket? That I could have?" She waited. Everything was silent. Then he flung the door open, startling her. She jumped backward.

"Oh, hi." She grinned up at him.

He regarded her for a second before disappearing back into his room. Now in a rumpled t-shirt and pajama pants. She stood in his doorway, confused, until he reappeared with a folded blanket in hand.

"Good?" He held it toward her.

"Yes, very good thanks." She smiled again, turning and heading back to her room.

She sat on her bed, blanket folded neatly in her lap, balking in the dark. Her toe tapped frantically on the floor as she replayed the scene in her head. Short; mono-syllabic; mono-worded, actually. No underlying tone. No lingering glance. Dammit.

She was pacing the room now. The decision was made, but a plan would be formed first. They'd kissed.

Under normal conditions she'd be calm, happily so. But this was what it was, and she was agitated. It had to be discussed.

Plan formed.

She creaked her way back to his door, knocking lightly, arms crossed. Waiting.

She started the moment the knob turned. "What?"

"What did it mean to you?"

"Huh?" He squinted down at her through the darkness.

"We kissed today. I wanna know what it meant to you." She stared at his shoulder. Her fingers toyed with each other.

Luke sighed, shifting his weight to one foot. "You kissed me too, you know."

"I know."

"So what do you think it meant?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking." She looked in his eyes then.

"What do you want it to mean?"

"That's not the point! I wanna talk about it!"

"Lorelai, can we discuss this in the morning?"

She sighed, peering down at the floor. Luke wears socks to bed, she noted.

"Fine. 'Night, Luke." She turned and walked away without glancing back.

And she was in her room again, under her covers, staring unblinkingly out the window. Remembering the kiss. The sudden unexpectedness; softness; meaningfulness, at the time. But it hadn't been discussed, its intentions now mystifying.

She jolted upright when her door flew open.

"How could you not know what that meant?"

"Luke!"

"After what we talked about last night? After what was discussed today?"

"Nothing was discussed! Hence the me asking the why about the meaning!"

"Alright fine. I'm sorry. We'll talk about it in the morning." And he disappeared before she could counter.

She lay back down, covering her face with her hands. Stupid, stupid Lorelai. She scrunched her eyebrows; rattled by the silence. Until she heard his feet creaking across the floorboards again.

"You think I did it out of pity?" And he was back in her doorway.

"What! Pity? I--"

"You think it's all going to go away, that it'll never be thought of, brought up, or remembered again after we leave here?"

"Luke no!" But he'd disappeared again. She sat motionless in her bed. Stunned. Pissed.

Pity? What the hell?

It hadn't even crossed her mind. It had crossed his, though, obviously. Perhaps he'd been thinking it all day. Or last night too, while she'd confessed that maybe, somehow, at some point in time she'd considered him someone worth considering.

Damn him.

And she'd jumped out of bed again.

Damn him!

Strode out her door.

This is so not over.

Glided down the hallway, fists clenching, smacking right into his chest.

"Hey!" he roared.

"What the hell are you doing!" She stepped back.

"I'm not done yelling at you!"

"Well me either! At you, that is." Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she stared up at him, daring him to respond.

He sighed, mixed it with a groan. She was angrier at herself right now, that she'd ruined their perfect day. That she'd questioned their perfect kiss.

She felt like crap.

"I'm sorry," she whispered up at him.

He took a step closer. "If it's too much right now, if you wanna forget about it, we can--"

"No. I don't want to forget it." She stepped closer too. "It's just... everything's so fast right now and-- not with you, you've been here forever. But with Christopher, everything was so fast, and that's over, and believe me, I'm fine that it's over, I really just... I meant what I said. Last night. And I think I'm just trying to wrap my mind around it still."

"Okay," he ventured hesitantly. "So it wasn't... you're not just dealing with me because..."

"Because what?"

"Because you don't want to deal with him?"

Her eyes widened and she bowed her head, her hand to the bridge of her nose. "Oh my God. That's what this must seem like do you. Doesn't it? Luke, no. I don't... that's not why it happened. At all. I'm dealing with you because I want to deal with you."

He frowned.

"Do you understand that?

Luke shifted his weight, brow creased, and nodded slightly. "Yeah."

"And do you believe me?"

He paused for a moment, then took a step back. He usually knew when she was lying, but it was too dark to see her eyes. He needed to breathe, to think about this.

"Luke? Do you believe me?"

Her voice wavered only slightly. Still no answer from Luke. Lack of response filled the hallway, making it more difficult to think. And breathe.

Seconds turned over quickly, minutes began piling themselves on. She could've easily convinced herself that no one was there. She strained to hear him breathing. Maybe she'd imagined him to begin with. Maybe she was the last person left on earth.

Reaching out cautiously, she needed to make sure he was still with her. And she'd almost completely extended her arm when she felt the cotton at her fingertips. He was still there.

He softened, feeling her imploring touch. It forced the words out of him. "I believe you," he said quietly.

Lorelai sighed audibly in relief. "Good."

A pause.

"Because I really need you to believe me, Luke."

He tried not to sigh when he said it, taking a step closer. "I know."

She stepped forward as well, a strip of light from the far window delineating her features. Luke peered at her through the darkness until he was confident that, if she were lying, she wasn't aware of it.

"So..."

"So." He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "When you kissed me… you meant it. Right?" He dipped his head down toward hers as they both leaned closer. She suddenly felt very aware of the symbolism of his shirt wrapped around her skin.

"I meant it," she confirmed, barely managing a controlled calm in her voice. "I mean, yeah. I meant it. I was the one who started it." Her eyes closed. It was dark; she couldn't see anyway.

"So why did you ask?" And his breath was on her skin now--

"Just wanted confirmation." --as her hands reached for his shoulders.

And when his mouth pressed against hers, hard and greedily, her mind fell blissfully clear.

She squeezed her arms around his neck, standing on tip toe to match his height as she pressed her body more firmly against his.

She sighed against his mouth, a sort of exasperated sound that made Luke rub his hands up and down over her back.

She pressed her cheek against his, squeezing his neck again harder with her arms.

"You okay?" He mumbled into her ear.

She nodded, moved by his concern and aroused by his voice. Hands rubbing; skin against skin were it not for flannel, she imagined.

"Yes, thank you." She turned her face into his neck. "Are you okay?"

She felt him nod against her temple. Pressure from his fingertips.

"You been just, so good to me. And I yelled at you." Lips against his neck.

"I yelled at you too." He drew back enough to see her face. Lorelai, in his cabin, in his flannel, in his arms, looking in his eyes.

Kissing his lips. Again. Squeezing his neck.

Rubbing her back.

Pulling away.

"Well, we should get back. To our rooms. It's late." Rubbing his cheeks in her palms.

"Yeah, we should." Sliding his hands down her back.

"You know, eventually," she whispered against his mouth as it covered hers again. Hands in his hair. Hands cupping curves. Pressing her against his hips. There was no way he could reason against this.

"Mmm. So, night Lorelai." They didn't move.

"Night Luke." She pecked him quickly on the lips. Still didn't move. Hands left his shoulders; palms smoothed over his chest; fingers traced his stomach.

Eyes watched each other. Breaths were sighed.

"So you know what this means too?" His chest vibrated under her hands when he spoke.

She spoke to his collar. "I knew it at the lake." Kiss. "I knew it last night." Another kiss. "I've known it for five years." Longer kiss.

He buried his face in her neck; pressed her up against him with arms around her waist; she tilted her head back; moaned.

"So... eventually..." she breathed.

He took a step back, pulling her with him, and stopped. They stared each other down for just a second. Pulling her another step back. Another stare.

"Lorelai… you really want this?"

She smirked, daring him to take another step.

He grabbed her waist and hoisted her up against him as she drew his head to hers, pressed her mouth to his.

And he backed slowly into his bedroom.

The window is open as he makes love to her, cool air nipping at hot skin.

He fills her slowly, achingly. Watching her intently, reactively. Pulsing harder when she moans; pressing lips against her eyelids when she squeezes them shut. Losing his concentration when she sighs hot breath in his ear.

Legs wrap around his waist. Fingers wrap around his arms. Voice wraps around his brain, begging him; pleading with him for... something.

"Luuuke..." Hot breath. "I need--"

"Tell me." Slow, controlled pulsing.

"I need..." Aching.

"Lorelai." Throbbing.

"I need you." Shaking.

"I'm here. I'm right here." Rasping low. In her ear.

"Inside me, Luke. Harder." Pleading. "I need you."

Thrust. Again.

Whispering; rasping.

She shudders beneath him, back arching, eyes clenching.

He thrusts harder, faster, watching her move and writhe underneath him.

Harder. She moans.

Faster. She grips. Fingers kneading; nails clawing.

Breaths escaping.

Tongues lick and hands roam and he cradles her with his forearms. And she breathes his name; pushes everything out of her mind with a cringe.

She's coming for him with an arched back, with his hand at her waist pulling her to sit up in his lap. Her arms cling around his chest. Her forehead lies against his shoulder.

And she cries.

He doesn't ask why; he doesn't speak at all other than hushes and whispers of "It's okay... shhh..." as he rocks her gently back and forth, soothing her under his hands, pressing her against him; letting her cry and sob and sniffle into his skin.

She stares unflinchingly, rigidly, out the window. At the trees. They seem to sway with her.

And as Lorelai drifts off sleepily, Luke places her beneath him again. He presses his body against hers, his nose in the crook of her neck.