The sunlight streams though a break in the blinds on the window and wakes up him in the morning. The pleasing aroma of her fruity shampoo mixes with her flowery perfume to fill his lungs with a scent that is so completely Lorelai. He smiles to himself, pulling her closer to him. There's soft tapping on the outside of the window. Stan. But he's so relaxed this morning that he doesn't even mind the noises of the bothersome raccoon. That is, until a shooting pain blazes across his back up to his shoulder. Somehow he remembers this bed being a little more comfortable and he shifts around trying to recall that feeling, opening his eyes in the process. Suddenly it dawns on him, somehow his mind had skipped back almost a year to that weekend on the Vineyard that he had belittled the entire time but was really the only time he really felt comfortable in his own skin the entire last year.
And now, after all that's happened, with Lorelai in his arms, he's still a man, he's a man holding a beautiful woman in his arms. As his eyes drift over her, watching her long eyelashes fluttering on her cheeks, her long tousled hair thrown over her pillow. She's breathtaking. No matter what has happened in the last year, that fact hasn't changed. He realizes that he must have been dreaming about her to have thought that they were still back on the Vineyard and while he can't really recall the dream, he knows that they were together. Not together like they are now, sharing a bed but distinctly separate from each other, but pre-break-up together. The familiar feeling in his lower abdomen reminds him that the dream must have been good, that the sight of her now is still arousing as it always was.
She's like one of those Amazon women: luring men in only to kill them and eat them for dinner. As much as he yearns to give into his desires, to rouse her from her deep slumber and bury himself deep within her, to thread his fingers through her hair, caress the soft skin of her breasts, and drive himself into her until she's moaning his name in pleasure. He can't and he knows it, for many reasons. The loss of his sister is so new, so recent, that he fears these thoughts are staining her memory.
Yet it's the ache in his heart, the still reminder of Lorelai's betrayal that causes him to remove his arms from around her. He can't keep holding on to her, feeling her warmth against him and remain motionless in bed. Reluctantly, he slides off the bed, gradually so as not to wake her. He has to force himself to keep his eyes from wandering back to the bed to admire her resting form, which he had time and again stared at in wonder, amazed that there existed on Earth such a creature and she had chosen him. Yet, she hadn't chosen him, it had been some figment of his imagination that she had truly meant it when she asked him to marry her, asked him to elope with her, asked him to love her. And that's what compels him to pick up his bag and carry it into the bathroom.
A nice hot shower, that's what he needs. No, make that a nice cold shower as his mind travels back to the thinly clothed woman lying in his bed. The blood again pulses down between his legs as the image forms in his mind of Lorelai's long naked legs wrapped around him, her eyes gone black with desire for him. With a groan, he turns on the shower, checking to make sure the temperature is as cold as possible. His shaking fingers struggle with the zipper on the bag, trying to focus his mind on the task at hand. Upon opening the bag, he's reminded how lucky he is that she packed for him, remembering that if it hadn't been for her he would have gone on that math team trip with April without his toothbrush. Hearing a soft sigh from the other side of the door, the throbbing feeling in his groin returns and he quickly grabs shampoo and soap and gets into the shower, to let the cold water run over him until he's once again in control of himself.
When he finally cools down and towels himself off, he walks out of the bathroom to find his room empty of any remnants that there was ever another person in the room. The sheet is completely shoved over on the side he had slept on. The door between their rooms is shut and he wonders for a moment if she locked it too. Does she have some kind of telepathy that allowed her to read his mind? Is she angry with him? His answer is in the clothes laid out for him on the chair. Laying on the chair is a dark brown sweater and black pants with a pair of black dress shoes sitting on the ground by the legs of the chair. He knows that without her help he would have ended up wearing just another flannel with jeans which would have been completely inappropriate on this day.
After changing, she again opens the door between their rooms, checking to make sure he's dressed and ready, which he is. With only a slight nod, she walks out of the room, knowing he'll follow. They get into the car, Lorelai again in the driver's seat, and she pulls out of the parking lot. This time, however, he doesn't stare out the window but instead he takes in her outfit, her knee-length black skirt with frills on the end, the tight black shirt underneath her open black suit jacket. Her boots on her feet rise up to mid calf. He swallows. Does she do this just to get to him? Taking a deep breath, he glances up at her to find her looking at him curiously. "You all right there?" she asks compassionately, a slight curve to her lips. If she only knew.
He manages a nod in response, hoping she doesn't really understand why he was staring, and turns back to gaze out the window. It had been only a few years ago that he had stared out the window of his own truck on his way to assist Liz and TJ after their last car crash. Apparently driving on the road and TJ do not belong in the same sentence. The entire ride up to the Ren Faire in Maine all he could think about was how irritated he was that he had to leave Stars Hollow just because his sister's husband was a lunatic. He had to leave home just when things seemed to finally be working out with Lorelai and he knows he blamed Liz for that. It hadn't been her fault. She wasn't the one who forced him to wait eight years to make a move. She wasn't the one who drove the car off the road. She wasn't the one who got in the car and pushed it all the way to Maine so that he was no longer in the same town as Lorelai. No, it had been his decision, his own fear of Lorelai's denial that had put him in that position.
Liz had been his sister and no matter what she had ever done, he had loved her, he had cared for her, he had hoped things would turn out for the best for her. And they had. Just when things were turning out all happily ever after for her with TJ and Gabriel, the tragedy that followed the lives of the Danes's struck once again. And he was left to deal with the loss of the last remaining family member that had ever used the last name of Danes.
As Lorelai pulls into the driveway and turns off the car, she leans back in her seat. Both of them are motionless in the car each lost in his or her own thoughts as they stare at the cars parked in front of them and at the white house with the light green shutters. She finally shakes her head, focusing her eyes and glances over at him. "You ready?" she asks him, noticing that the color has once again disappeared from his face. All during the drive, he seemed a little better than the day before. She had hoped that the sleep had done him some good, but now, his face ashen once again, she's worried.
"I – I don't think I can do this," he finally stutters, his breath quickening along with the rising of his anxiety. Her heart aches for him, knowing how alone he feels. He's lost Liz now. He lost his parents. And though she's there in body, she knows that he feels he's lost her as well, possibly he feels like he never had her. He did and she knows it, but she's no longer certain of how to reassure him.
Finally, she places her hand once again in his, squeezing his tightly. "I'm here," she tells him, hoping he reads the true meaning of her words. He tears his eyes from the glass of the window shield over to her and she feels her cheeks flame in response. He still has that power over her, to make her feel completely exposed with just a look. The same way he had from the day they met, although it had taken her eight years to acknowledge that fact. She squeezes his hand once again before letting go and getting out of the jeep.
He gets out as well and shoves his hands deep within the confines of his pockets as he follows her to the front door. "Hey, come in," the man he recognizes as TJ's brother, Mike, calls from the opposite side of the screen door. With a quick glance at Lorelai, he opens the door, allowing her to step in ahead of him. "Luke, right? Liz's brother, Luke?" Mike asks from the kitchen at the end of the hall.
Luke's response is stuck in his throat and he looks over at Lorelai for help. She raises her eyebrows at him, as if he's supposed to know what she means. His eyes lower and he notices her open palm inches from his hand. Without recognizing her gesture with a nod or any other kind of indication, he moves his hand to grip hers tightly. Silently, he guides her down the hall to the kitchen. "Yes, I'm Luke. I'm... her brother," he finally gets out, hesitant to say his sister's name.
"Look who's up!" a high girlish voice exclaims from behind him. Both he and Lorelai flip around to find a woman walking down the stairs with a baby in her arms.
"Gabriel," Luke says softly, a small smile spreading over his face. Without knowing it, he lets go of Lorelai's hand to walk over to the woman. "Hey Buddy," Luke says kindly to the infant. He gives the woman a look, as if asking to hold his nephew. She nods, and carefully places Gabriel in Luke's waiting arms.
Lorelai can't help but watch Luke hold his young nephew, cradling the boy against his heart. How Anna ever convinced herself she was right to keep his daughter from him for twelve years is beyond her, but what had always been more surprising to her is that Anna's reason for her actions was her staunch belief that Luke would never love a child. Just the sight of him holding the small baby in his arms and any small bit of truth to Anna's belief immediately evaporates. He loves this child and anyone observing this picture of Luke at this moment should easily be able to discern that. She watches in awe as he smiles warmly down at the infant in his arms, reaching out a finger, placing it in the child's fingers, and smiles even wider as the young boy holds on. Then he places a kiss on the child's forehead and glances back at her, as if he was whispering things about her to the baby.
He cradles Gabriel in his arms as he walks back over to her. "Lorelai, I'd like you to meet my nephew, Gabriel," Luke says as she smiles softly at the beautiful infant. Luke looks down at the child in his arms. "Buddy, this is Auntie Lorelai." With that short sentence, her heart skips a beat. He called her Auntie. Was he just being kind? Was he just saying it because she is there? Or was it something more?
Her thoughts are interrupted by TJ's brother calling Luke over to the table where an older man and woman sit, people she assumes are TJ's mother and father. Luke grimaces in response, giving Lorelai a pleading look as if begging her not to make him go talk to these people he so clearly despises. "You have to," she tells him and they both know that he does.
"Take him for a bit?" Luke asks, motioning for her take Gabriel. Her lips part slightly in surprise and delight at being allowed to hold the baby that is so clearly dear to Luke's heart. She nods eagerly and gingerly receives the baby in her arms, holding him close to her.
"Hi Gabriel," she says softly, her eyes smiling down at the child. She glances up at Luke. "Go." He rolls his eyes but does as told. Her attentions return to Gabriel as she's completely taken with him. Gabriel's bright blue eyes stare up at her, almost adoringly, as if he knows she's a friend.
Meanwhile Luke has become engaged in a conversation that he has little interest in as TJ's family attempts to plan the next day's funeral. Knowing that he's planning to have Liz's funeral back home in Stars Hollow, Luke's attention wanes. His gaze drifts back to Lorelai, who is cuddling his nephew close to her, whispering things in his ear that he can only imagine have to do with her three favorite things: coffee, Rory and TV. As he watches, the small child, though not hers, seems to reach up with his little hand and pull himself into her heart and he knows that the boy will be in her heart for always.
Somehow she seems to sense that Luke's watching her and glances over at him and winks. But instead of being warmed by her smile, his heart turns cold as he can only imagine who else has been warmed by her smile in the past. He returns his concentration back to TJ's family without a response to Lorelai's wink.
She murmurs Luke's praises to Gabriel for awhile, astounded by the child's instant ease with her. Davey at Gabriel's age wanted nothing to do with anyone who wasn't Sookie or Tobin, even his own father had received screams when holding him. Prissy Martha hadn't stayed still long enough at Gabriel's age to even let anyone hold her without being afraid of dropping her. Only Rory, her own daughter, had lain still in her arms, contented by the beat of her mother's heart.
She's startled suddenly by noises from the corner of the kitchen and directs one eye over there. Luke is glaring across the table at TJ's brother, sour looks on the faces of both TJ's mother and father. Luke's hands are on his hips as he bellows his notions on how things should be. None of the members of TJ's family seem accepting of Luke's responses and she's worried about the health of the elder generation in their grief after the recent tragedy. With a quick glance down at Gabriel, who has snuggled against her, eyes closed, she crosses the floor over to Luke.
"Come," she demands, nudging him with her elbow. He gives her a look of displeasure, but she responds only with a stony look. Then he nods. "He needs to be changed," she tells TJ's family, meaning Gabriel, but noting with amusement the double meaning that could be derived from her statement. None of the other people respond as she motions at Luke with her head. She leads him away from the group.
As they walk up the stairs, she nudges him angrily. "What the hell was that?" she asks furiously.
"What?" he responds obstinately, as if he has no idea what she's inferring.
"You! Yelling at TJ's parents and brother the day after his death!" she admonishes him. "What the hell was that Luke?" He sighs heavily, knowing she's right to reprove him, though he really has no idea what got him so upset.
"You shouldn't say that word with him in your arms," he finally mumbles, receiving only a cross look from the woman walking next to him. He motions to her left at the nursery that's been set up for Gabriel's occasional visits and she turns and walks into the room. She's still upset with him and he knows it. "They want Liz to be buried here, next to TJ and his grandparents." She stands in the middle of the room and turns to look up at him, her expression softening as she understands his anger.
"What did Liz want?" she inquires. He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well did she want to be buried in Stars Hollow next to your parents, who she was never close with? Or did she want to be buried here in Amherst next to the man she loved?" He gets her point instantly, in fact he always knew that was the case, but just didn't want it to be true. She cocks her head, letting him know that she knows she's right. He sighs again.
Gabriel squirms a little, readjusting himself in Lorelai's arms and she beams down at him. To Luke, it reminds him of a painting he once saw in the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a trip he had taken with his mother when he was much younger, one that his mother had admired for a long time of the Virgin Mother holding her infant son in her arms. Though he knows from personal experience that Lorelai has no other grounds than looks to be compared to the woman in the painting, it amazes him how she can look so beautiful, so radiant, in the image of motherhood. "You know, Rory was eleven before I met you so I never really knew… but you look good with a baby in your arms," Luke comments, remembering times past when he had imagined her holding their own child in her arms. They had agreed that kids would be good, and they would have been, but all that was gone now. She looks up at him appreciatively.
Without responding to his compliment, she takes Gabriel over to the changing table and lays him down. "Get a diaper," she tells him, without turning around. "Hi Gabriel. I'm your Auntie Lorelai. I'm just going to change you and make you feel all nice and dry again," she coos as she loosens the sticky tags of the used diaper. She makes faces with her tongue, making Gabriel giggle to keep him happy as she changes him.
Just when Luke finally finds the new diapers, he hears a knock on the door. "Hey Uncle – ug!" Luke looks up to see Jess jump back into the doorway as he spots his brother lying naked on the changing table. Jess's nose is wrinkled, clearly not pleased by the odor from the used diaper. Lorelai glances over her shoulder at Jess and giggles. She motions for Luke to bring the new diaper over to her, which he does.
"I'll take care of this. You go do your manly bonding," she says softly, motioning with her head at Jess. Luke walks back over to Jess, embracing his nephew in a manly but loving hug. Lorelai grins, watching them try to pretend to be cool about the whole thing, but really needing each other after the loss of Liz.
As the two separate, they match postures, each shoving his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground with an eye on the other. Lorelai smiles to herself and returns her attentions to the squirming child in front of her. "I'm sorry," Jess mumbles.
"No, Jess, I'm sorry," Luke says. "You know she loved you. She kept saying how things were going to turn out for you. And you know what? She was right." Jess nods. Luke smacks Jess's arm. "She was right."