A/N- Hello! I'm posting two chapters tonight, and you're getting two author's notes, because I'm in the mood to talk. Haha. Sorry it's still coming slow, but it is coming, as I promise and as you can see. I'm really excited because if any of you have noticed, the 100th chapter is coming up! Obviously the proposal was done too far in advance for it to coincide, but I hope you do enjoy what I end up doing with the 100th chapter, since I think that's pretty significant. Also I realized that this story is over 100,000 words of actual content (not including author's notes). That's absolutely wild. I know the short chapters bother some people but isn't that amazing? Okay, I'm going to stop being wildly self-absorbed and fangirling over my own story now (you can ignore my ridiculousness) and just present to you the next chapter. Enjoy and review and be sure to read and review the following one and its corresponding author's note as well!

I do not own Gilmore Girls or any of its characters or concepts, but I do own folders and color-coded post-its, which help me feel a little bit more Paris Geller (or Monica Geller, for that matter. Never noticed that before!). Unfortunately they do not have my favorite special pens over here in England, so I'm feeling Rory-upset-with-Lorelai-in-the-supply-shop levels of compulsive anger about that.


Chapter 97

"So I take it you gave one of your famous motivational pep talks," Lorelai teased Luke as she got in the truck. He glared at her.

"I cannot believe you said that."

"Well, it's true!" Lorelai exclaimed, "She's my daughter! I get to be mad at the guy who hurts her."

"It should stay in your mind," Luke grumbled, shaking his head.

"Yes, because silence is golden has always been my mantra," Lorelai nodded sarcastically. Luke looked at her wearily. "Alright, fine. I'll try to be less snarky."

"Thank you," Luke said, sighing deeply.

"Everything okay?"

"Haven't been getting any sleep," Luke muttered. A Cheshire cat grin appeared on Lorelai's face.

"Because I'm not around to bore you with my hours of conversation?"

"Something like that," he smiled, pulling up to a stoplight. He leaned over and kissed her. "So how have you been?"

"Fine, hopped up on sugar from copious amounts of junk food, so basically in a state of normalcy," Lorelai answered casually, before turning to grin at him, "Which has been completely fine except for the state of stress that I've been in constantly for the last few days."

"And that would be from…"

"Too much coffee?"

"Sure," Luke smirked, "Whatever you say."

"Luke Danes, I am an independent woman. I am perfectly capable of being happy and fulfilled without a man in my life," Lorelai sing-songed. He laughed.

"Yes, but without my coffee you're basically a walking corpse with anger management problems."

"Hey! Nice way to talk about your future wife," Lorelai pouted. A huge smile spread across Luke's face.

"It sounds good," he defended when he saw Lorelai smirk at his reaction.

"Yeah, it does," she agreed, intertwining her hand with his free one.

"You know what would make it sound better?"

"Me naked in your monty hat?"

"Your mind is a terrifying place."

"What, then?"

"Removing the word 'future'."

"Luke, what are you saying?" Lorelai asked slowly, raising her eyebrows as she looked at her fiancée. He grinned.

"I want to set a date."

"Really?"

"Preferably soon. But really, any day other than June 3rd works for me." Lorelai shot him a glare and he laughed. "But really. I just want to be married to you. We've been waiting too long for this. I don't want it to get put off again. Let's just…go."

"Luke Danes, are you trying to get me to elope with you again? Because I don't see any crazy amount of stuff in your truck…"

"I know better than to think that you wouldn't have Rory at your wedding," he answered, "And I wouldn't want it to happen without Jess there. But let's start planning. Our engagement has been too long, too delayed already. I want to be your husband. Let's set a date. Let's get married."

"How's June 3rd?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "And this is why we can't have serious conversations."

"Well, you knew who you were marrying."

"So?"

"How does February sound?"

"Are you serious?"

"Are you changing your mind?"

"No, that's exactly…it's perfect," Luke admitted, "But I always thought you wanted a spring wedding."

"I think I want the snow."

"And your dress?"

"Must be white, I know!"

"I meant with the…"

"Let the women worry about the clothes. You just worry about not wearing flannel or finding out about any other children by then."

"I'll do my best."