AN: Hello. So I was really unhappy with the previously posted chapter three, hence the reposting. I just didn't have my heart in that chapter; it was sort-of done half-assedly. I apologize and assure you, I'm back in. Enjoy.

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On the Monday morning after the wedding, Lorelai wakes up with a man in her bed. The details were a bit hazy after all of the champagne consumed upon returning to the inn, but Lorelai was certain the form that lay beside her was the one and only Christopher. She sighs, and snuggles closer to his warm body.

At her small motion, she realizes that these past two mornings were the only times she had ever actually woken up beside the father of her daughter. And that knowledge makes her heart warm with comfort.

In their earlier relationship, the two were more concerned with making it to dinner on time or venturing back to their bedroom unnoticed. It had been all about secret trysts. Her bed, his, the balcony, the pool house. She giggles at the memories of them hurriedly putting their clothes back on and straightening their respective appearances. Lorelai would have to put a great deal of work into fixing her hair and Chris always tended to be more aware of every crink and wrinkle in his freshly steamed pants.

But never in their pubescent rendezvous' did they ever wake up next to each other. But now, here they were, 17 years later, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. She feels encompassed in a bubble of safety, knowing the man beside her knows and understands her more than anyone in the world. She would usually put Rory at the top of that list, but there were certain things that Rory would never know, nor need to know. She had never held a torch to Christopher in the past, knowing his imperfections and child-like tendencies, but today, laying in bed so peacefully together, it all just seemed so perfect.

Lorelai looks up to Chris and smiles as he continues to sleep soundly. Her heart drops knowing that tomorrow he will be returning to Boston for work, so she memorizes his sleeping figure and takes comfort in knowing that he'll be back on Saturday. She slowly pulls away from him and tiptoes to the bathroom, preparing for her day.

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When he finds her an hour later, she's standing in front of the coffee pot.

"Aw man! I wanted to make you coffee this morning."

She turns to him and smiles, holding out the empty coffeepot, "It's not too late."

He smiles and approaches her, leaning in for a kiss. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you," she replies cheerfully.

He stands in front of her for a second, grinning. Her smile turns into a teasing frown when he doesn't move from his position. She brings the pot up to his eye line and groans. He smiles and takes the pot from her, moving to the sink to fill it up with water.

She happily moves to the table, taking a seat. "So sheet-stealer, did you sleep well?"

He looks at her incredulous, "Sheet-stealer?"

"Um hum, you stole the sheets from right over me, leaving my helpless, womanly body to weather the elements," she does her best damsel in distress impression.

He laughs, pointing his finger at her, "You, my dear, weathered the elements just fine. I was the one who was forced take refuge in the sheets after the comforter found its way to your side of the bed. And," he adds, punctuating the word defiantly, "When I tried to wrestle a little bit of it back from you, you kicked me!"

She feigns shock, "I did no such thing!"

"Uh huh. Give me about twelve hours and I'll have the bruise on my shin to prove it."

She pouts and he returns to making the coffee grinning.

She smiles as he returns to work, "You sure you know how to work that machine?"

He turns with his mouth open, disbelieving. "Ouch. Low blow to my manhood."

She grins, "Dirty!"

He returns her grin and continues, "Just because I didn't know how to change a tire, does not mean I can not work any mechanic object."

She looks at him pretending to be unconvinced. He rolls his eyes, "Am I ever going to hear the end of that?"

"Nope."

He pours the coffee in two cups and joins her at the table. She takes a sip of her coffee and smiles at him. "Look at us. We're so domestic! Fighting over who stole the sheets the night before and having couple quarrels over morning coffee."

He grins at her giddiness and shakes his head. They fall into a comfortable silence as they drink their coffee.

Suddenly Chris looks up at her, "I'm going to make some shelves for Rory's room. Something for her to put all of her books on."

Lorelai looks touched and smiles widely at him. "That'd be nice."

"It's a promise with a catch…"

"And what's the catch?"

"Maybe we can hear the last of the inability to change a tire thing like five minutes ago?"

She smiles. He was going to build their daughter shelves. He was going to try and make this work. They were going to try and make this work. She figures it's a small price to pay. "Deal."

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As Lorelai enters the inn later that morning, she feels relaxed; comfortable. A child-like giddiness crawls up her stomach, thinking of Christopher picking up Rory from school and them spending the afternoon together. Everything was going so well, it seemed as if things had always been this way.

Michel immediately interrupts her giddy reverie, pushing a phone in front of her face.

"Take dis away from me."

Lorelai looks at the phone and then to Michel.

"What's wrong with the phone?"

"It will not stop ringing," he groans.

Lorelai looks at the phone and immediately recognizes it as Chris'. She takes it from him, "Oh. Thanks."

Michel grunts and Lorelai walks towards her office.

As she approaches the door and reaches down to grab her keys, the phone starts to ring. She looks down and sees a name that makes her stomach drop. Sherry.

She quickly unlocks her office and goes in, setting the phone down hastily, as if it were about to explode. She stares at the phone worried, as it continues to ring. When it finally quiets, she slowly reaches for the phone. On the screen, the number of missed calls displays on the screen. 26.

Lorelai was usually one for privacy; she had never been a jealous girlfriend or ever felt to need to 'snoop' on any of her boyfriends. But today, curiosity, mixed with the ever-growing sense of insecurity, gets the best of her. She presses 'Ok' and one name, and one name only, comes onto the screen.

Immediately, she turns the phone off and opens her desk drawer dropping it in. She sighs and begins to open the drawer again, and then closes it quickly, defiantly.

Her office phone rings startling her. Warily, she walks to the phone, still glancing at the drawer, as if Sherry herself was about to pop out of it confronting her on her actions. She picks up the phone, "Independence Inn, Lorelai speaking."

"Hey Lor, it's me."

An unfamiliar wave of guilt rushes over her. "Oh hi."

"Could you keep an eye out for my phone today. I'm pretty sure it's around there somewhere."

She winces, pausing, contemplating, and then finally, "Sure. I'll call you if I find it." She drops her head guiltily.

"Thanks. See you later?"

"You bet."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She hangs up the phone and sits at her desk, placing her head firmly on the desk, groaning,

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Later that afternoon, Lorelai gets into her car. Since Christopher and Rory were going to spend the afternoon together in Hartford, Lorelai had offered to go pick up the shelf supplies. She had confided in Christopher that she actually had a long-harbored love of home improvement shops. She admitted a little bit of it was the cute, muscular men in aprons, but it was also that the rows and rows of things she had no idea what they did, mystified her.

She pulls into the parking lot and pulls out the list that Chris had made earlier that day. Even though she had spied him Googling the necessary equipment, the effort that he was making was priceless.

As she walks into the store, she immediately seeks out someone to help her. She had visited this store quite a lot for the many, and essential, improvements made upon her house. She knew it fairly well, but she always welcomed assistance. Not only was it a quick and efficient way to get someone to get all the items for her, it secured her a car-loader when she left. She reasoned that if woman had to menstruate and give birth, men could at least load the car and do the heavy lifting.

The first apron she spots belongs to a cute little sixty-year-old man. Adorable, helping a woman pick out a ceiling fan. Cute, yes. Able to carry her ten flanks of wood to her car without her feeling the need to offer help, no. She continues her search.

A good-looking, twenty-something-year-old man immediately approaches her. She looks at his nametag, "Rhett". 'Too easy' she thinks giddily.

"Hi Ma'am. Can I help you find something?"

She blushes, feigning ignorance, "Well I have this list, but, man, I don't know where to find anything."

He smiles at her taking the list, "Well let's see. I can help you with this."

"Why thank you," she pretends to be looking at his nametag for the first time, "Rhett. You saved me."

He blushes, "Always willing to help a lady in trouble."

She smiles at him at bats her eyelashes a little, for effect.

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A little while later Rhett and Lorelai walk down the last isle. He's pushing a cart full of various items.

He stops in front of various assortments of wood.

"And last, but not least, the wood."

She smiles flirtily to him, "I hear that's very important."

He grins and begins pulling various pieces out.

Lorelai watches him for a second and then begins taking in the other patrons. A father and a small child, a woman trying to gather her own wood, young and probably clueless to the vast resources around her, and, Luke? She startles, looking again to be certain. He turns and meets her gaze, looking equally as shocked, Yep, definitely Luke.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks.

"Shopping," she motions to Rhett. Luke raises his eyebrows, she continues, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Shopping," he responds equally stubborn.

Lorelai forces an awkward smile, "We seem to be running into each other a lot lately."

Luke uncomfortably nods. They both look at one another for a second and then, breaking the silence, Luke asks, "So what are you getting?"

"Stuff for shelves. Christopher's building them for Rory." Luke scoffs and Lorelai gets defensive, "Don't even."

Rhett clears his throat behind Lorelai and she turns to him. "I'm just going to go cut these," he motions to the wood in his hand.

Lorelai smiles thankfully and turns back to Luke. When Rhett is out of earshot she goes back in. "Look, I know you're still upset about the fight, but can you try to refrain from making judgments about my life?"

"I'm not upset about the fight. You apologized, I accepted. Remember?"

She sighs, "Luke, let's not do this here."

"I'm just not believing this guy is in it for the long haul. I know people like him. They come and go as they please, not caring who they hurt in the process."

She crosses her arms in front of her protectively, aggravated, "This is not yours to believe Luke! Why don't you understand that?"

"Hey, I get it! I ju-"

Lorelai angrily cuts him off, "I need this to work!" Her tone drops considerably and she repeats softer, "I just need this to work."

Luke steps back and puts his hands on his hips, signaling surrender. He breathes in deeply and lifts his head to look at Lorelai. "Jess is back," Lorelai looks confused by the sudden change of topic. Luke continues, "I'm buying stuff to finish his room." His tone returns to ice, "I just thought you should know, he's back."

"Yeah Rory told me," Lorelai informs him, defeated. He nods stoically.

They fall back into silence. Luke is the one to break the silence, "Well I'm gonna-" he motions with his thumb towards the wood. Lorelai nods. He gives her one last look and returns to his previous position. She sighs.

Rhett returns and breaks her out of her thoughts, "Alright. That's everything!"

She glances one last time to Luke, then turns towards Rhett, forcing a smile, "Thanks Rhett. Let's go."

TBC