A/N: Sometimes strange things happen. Previously Anonymous asked me about this story recently and shortly thereafter, two other readers contacted me about it. With a coincidence like that, what choice did I have but to resurrect it? It's one I wrote long ago and posted at the dearly departed BWR. I thought about it on rare occasions and cringed when I did so, because my memory of it was of a good story idea with terrible execution. To let it see the light of day again, I speculated, would take a complete re-write to fix everything that was wrong.

I pulled it out of its cyber-tomb and – with one hand over my eyes – read it through. I didn't cringe – much. In fact, I smiled, even chuckled a couple of times. I decided that the thing has its own peculiar charm, and part of the charm came from the multiple, sometimes overlapping, points of view. The one thing that really struck me was how breezy my writing style was when I was newly on the scene, probably because it never occurred to me that more than seven people would ever read it. I wrote whatever amused me, and occasionally alluded to something I loved from another author's work as an homage.

To make an already too long author's note a little bit shorter, I finally decided to leave the majority of the story alone. I cleaned it up a little and fixed some glaring errors, but the story itself remains the way it was. Now it will be up to you to decide if it's charming or appalling! Thanks to all seven of you who will read this!

Romancing the Renoir

Big white tents had taken over all of the available space in front of the high school. Inside those tents, the Stars Hollow production of the Festival of Living Pictures was in full swing. Troops of volunteers were moving about frantically, setting up props, unpacking costumes, and laying out the makeup that would transform their commonplace friends and neighbors into works of art – for one night, at least.

Into this bustling scene walked Lorelai Gilmore, who stopped for a moment to breathe in the air of excitement. The happiness she felt broke out in one of her dazzling smiles. She loved everything about the theater: being backstage, having a part in the production, the anticipation of opening night, the knowledge that something huge and breathtaking was just around the corner.

Most people who knew Lorelai would likely assume she'd be one to crave the limelight for the chance to show off, but surprisingly, that wasn't the case. Lorelai knew she wasn't an actress. She was far too happy being Lorelai Gilmore to want to pretend to be anyone else.

No, she preferred to be backstage. She liked helping with the costumes and thrived on the tension-filled anxiety to be found behind the scenes. She didn't want to memorize lines that didn't sound anything like what she'd really say, or learn dance steps that she would never do on her own. That was why the Festival of Living Pictures was so perfect. All she had to do was to hold still onstage and look pretty. That, she could handle. Well…at least the looking pretty part. Holding still could use some practice.

"Oh, Lorelai, dear, I'm afraid we have a problem." She heard Patty's voice behind her and turned to face the Dance Diva of Stars Hollow.

"Did Sasha bust out of her ballerina costume again?" Lorelai asked with a knowing smirk.

"No," Patty said sorrowfully. "I'm afraid it's a little more serious than that." She moved to the side so that Lorelai could see Terrence standing there, his poor face swollen and blotchy from bee stings.

Lorelai gasped. "Good Lord, Terrence, are you OK? What happened?"

"I didn't know there was a nest of wasps in my garage," he mumbled painfully. "I know now."

"Have you been to the doctor?" Lorelai asked, truly concerned for the poor man.

"Yeah. I'm going to be fine. Luckily I'm not allergic," he assured her. "But I'm afraid putting any makeup on these is a big no-no. Sorry." He sighed apologetically. "I've got to get home in time to meet the exterminator." He gave a half-hearted wave and shuffled off to the opening in the canvas.

"Take care of yourself!" Lorelai called after him, still wide-eyed at his plight. "Wow." She turned to Patty, shaking her head in sympathy. "Poor Terrence, huh?"

"Lorelai, you've grasped the big picture, haven't you, dear?" Patty asked. "You realize, don't you, that this means we'll have to cut your painting?"

Lorelai felt bee-stung herself. "Patty, no!" she said in a panic. As the opportunity threatened to slip away, she suddenly realized just how important it was to her. "We'll find someone else to fill in!" she insisted.

Patty raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Who?" she questioned, sensibly. "Everyone who wants to be a part of this production is already assigned. Face it, sweetie. It's only two days away. It's too late to find a replacement," she pointed out, as kindly as she could.

Lorelai grasped at any solution. "Maybe Andrew could do a second scene?"

"No, his makeup is too extensive. There's no way to do a turnaround that fast. I'm sorry, Lorelai, but it's just not in the cards this time."

"Come on!" Lorelai was determined. "I did not worm my way into Taylor's good graces and use my daughter as collateral for this to fall apart at the last minute. There's got to be a way to make this happen!"

"Look, Lorelai, we'll call you up on stage for a bow, to thank you for your help behind the scenes." Patty tried her best to placate her. "You'll still get your moment, I promise."

"You don't understand," Lorelai said quietly, slowly figuring it out as she spoke. "It's not about any need I have to be in the spotlight. Taylor was right about seven years ago. It's true. I flinched. I'm a big, fat, flincher!"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Patty demurred.

"Are you kidding? Stevie Wonder could have seen it! From space!"

Patty shrugged. Her eyes darted around the area, cataloging everything else she still needed to do. "Well then, maybe this is for the best."

Lorelai shook her head, her lips in a firm line. "No. This is my chance to fix it." Her voice dropped lower. "Usually, when I screw up, I just have to live with it." She swallowed uncomfortably, remembering all of the many screw-ups she'd had to live with over the course of her life. "But this is one time I can redeem myself. I can prove that I really can do it. I failed, seven years ago. I need to prove to myself that I can do this. I'm not going to fail."

Patty blinked, not used to a serious and determined Lorelai. "I agree, getting a second chance is always a wonderful thing, dear. I'm all for it, or I never would have married Sinjin again, but unfortunately, we're right back to square one. Who could we get to do it at the last minute?"

"I'll do it."

Both Lorelai and Patty jumped as someone spoke from behind them. Startled, they turned to see Luke rising to his full height. Until now he'd been hidden from their view, quietly working underneath the Last Supper table.

"No!" Lorelai responded instinctively, shaking her head emphatically.

Both Patty and Luke looked at her in disbelief.

"Oh, but Lorelai, this is our answer. Let Luke do it for you, dear," she cajoled, with just the tiniest hint of a naughty inflection.

"No!" Lorelai insisted again.

"You just got done telling Patty how important this is to you," Luke said, obviously annoyed. "Now you don't want to do it?"

"It's just – it's not a good idea," Lorelai said, stumbling over the words. Because truthfully…she didn't know why she was protesting. It was just a gut feeling that this was a colossally bad solution.

"Why?" he asked, his hands on his hips and that stubborn look on his face. "You think I can't do it?" His stuck his chin out belligerently, daring her.

"No. No, of course that's not it." She paused, trying to grab a few moments to create an argument on the fly. "Be realistic, you hate this sort of festival stuff, you know you do!" He rolled his eyes and she took a breath, feeling more confident. "And you'd have to let Taylor boss you around. You'd have to wear make-up!" She nodded her head at him in triumph. "See? There's three rants already. I'm just looking out for your blood pressure."

"My blood pressure's fine," he huffed. "I wouldn't have volunteered if I wasn't willing to put up with the insanity, Lorelai." His irritated tone had softened by the time he said her name.

"And…and…" she looked around, trying desperately to come up with a more compelling reason for him to rescind his offer. You'll have to hold me for three minutes. Bingo. There it was. She didn't want to probe why that thought was making her balk. Instead she twisted her fingers and looked away. "Nicole might not like it," she muttered, spitting out the woman's name.

"Nicole?" Luke sounded baffled. "Why the hell should Nicole care if I take part in some of the town's craziness?"

Patty's head was swiveling between them as they argued. "Lorelai," she interrupted, her voice silky, "if Luke wants to do this for you, let him." She fluttered her eyes at the flannel-clad hunk at her shoulder. "I certainly would!"

Luke glared, first at Patty, then at Lorelai. "I don't get it. This is the sort of crap you're on me all the time to do. Normally you'd be pouting and threatening to blackmail me to force me into doing this. What's going on with you, anyway?"

"OK, you know what? Fine!" Lorelai snapped, fuming because his logic was so much better than hers. "Patty, put us in position and time it!" Lorelai tilted her face and put up her arms, while completely irrational anger pulsed through her body. We'll just let Burger Boy see what he's going to have to do! That should put an end to this disastrous idea!

"Oh, certainly! I'd be delighted," Miss Patty chortled. Getting to sculpt Luke Danes into any position was making one of her (dirty) dreams come true. "Let's just have you turn this way…" Her hand slipped down his back, much lower than needed.

"Patty!" he growled.

She ignored him. "Now, Lorelai, you fit here, like this…"

Fit was right. Patty's authoritative hand made sure there was no personal space left between her and Luke. Lorelai shut her eyes and bit down on her lips.

"And then, Luke, your arm goes around her waist, like so. Imagine you can't believe you're getting to hold this beautiful creature in your arms…"

You will not make me moan! Lorelai gave the order to her hormones, because damn, did it feel amazing, tucked up against him the way she was.

"You'll have on a hat." Patty continued to explain the scene to Luke. "So, no different than any other day for you!" She playfully tugged on the blue baseball cap. "But this one will partially obscure your face, and you'll tilt your head just like this…Lorelai, dear, open your eyes and do that downcast look…Perfect!" She stepped back to admire the pretty couple in the tableau she'd created. "OK you two, time starts…Now!"

Lorelai found that having Luke as her partner was the best anti-flinching security she could have. Because he was already supporting her, any movement on her part would simply press her body even closer against his. She drew in a measured breath of air, hoping to steady her nerves. Instead, she breathed in a heady hit of Luke essence: grilled hamburgers and the sharp tang of coffee, as well as a note of something so masculine that her damn hormones sat straight up and took notice. There was a quivering in her core, and since quivering lead to flinching, she did the sensible thing and stopped breathing.

"Time!" Patty called out, right before Lorelai's lack of air reached the critical stage. "That was incredible. Luke, you were born to do this," she gushed at him.

Luke released Lorelai and stepped back. Lorelai sucked in a breath of wonderful, wonderful oxygen and wondered why blooming starbursts of color were dancing in front of her eyes.

"Lorelai!" Both Luke and Patty called out her name in alarm, reaching for her as she wobbled on her oxygen-depleted legs. Before they could grab her, Judas slid a chair under her and she plopped down onto it like it had been a well-rehearsed routine. A little shepherdess ran a bottle of water over to her.

"Lorelai, don't scare me like that!" Patty admonished. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Lorelai gulped down some water and laughed shakily, appalled by her unexpected girly-girl behavior. "You know, that whole breathing thing. Just forgot how to do it for a while." She slumped gratefully against the firm, stable chair.

"Well, I've seen more cases of hyperventilation backstage than I can count." Patty nodded, satisfied that nothing was really wrong with her. "And frankly, I'd swoon too, if I ever had the opportunity to be in those arms," she confided to Lorelai, but in a voice loud enough for Luke to hear, too.

Patty then turned to Luke, who was still regarding Lorelai skeptically. "Come with me, handsome, and we'll discuss your makeup and costume." She cast a critical eye over him, his face already showing the effects of three days without a razor. "Don't shave between now and then, and we might not have to do a fake beard." She headed off to one of the costume racks.

But instead of following her, Luke stopped, dropping down on one knee in front of Lorelai. "Wow. So three minutes in my arms and you faint dead away, huh?" He looked surprised at the husky note surrounding his words and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Guess I must not know my own power," he said mockingly, sounding more like himself.

Normally she'd have a quippy comeback, but not today, not after the hormone uprising she'd just experienced, and the unexamined truth of why she didn't want him as her partner also lurking about somewhere. She met his eyes for a second and then segued into the downcast look the girl in the painting favored.

"Hey." When she dared to look back up she could tell that her silence was concerning him. For a moment he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand tenderly over her cheek. "Seriously, are you OK?" Those incredible blue eyes locked onto hers.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she heard herself say, somewhere in another universe. Here, where she actually was, only his eyes and that hand on her cheek mattered. "Just forgot how to breathe," she repeated. "Won't make that mistake again."

"OK." He smiled and patted her knee as he got up to follow Patty.

"Hey, Luke," she called after him. "Thanks for doing this." She was lying, but at least she'd remembered her manners.

Luke turned back towards her. He looked like he was debating whether or not to say something. "Look, just don't…Don't ever doubt yourself, OK, Lorelai? You'll never be a failure in anything you do. You got that?" He pointed sternly at her.

She nodded, stunned to find out that her self-doubt was what had caused him to volunteer. She watched him docilely follow Patty to wardrobe, where he was surely in for another round of innuendo, which he loathed, but was nonetheless willing to endure...because of…her?

Lorelai took another gulp of water, not wanting to think about why that was, and why it meant so much to her.

As soon as he could extricate himself from Patty's lecherous clutches, Luke returned to the diner, where he quickly confirmed that nothing had burned down and no one had been poisoned in his absence. He hurried upstairs to his apartment for a brief lunch break before taking on the challenge of feeding the assorted crackpots who called Stars Hollow home.

His hands automatically took on the chore of slapping together a sandwich while his mind reviewed the events of the morning.

What was up with Lorelai not wanting him to do this with her? It bugged him that he couldn't figure it out. Normally all of this art-festival-picture-crap would be exactly the sort of thing she wouldn't let go of until she forced him help her. Why had she refused his offer and needed to be browbeaten to accept it? It made no sense.

But then, when did Lorelai ever make sense? He scoffed, knowing the truth of that question.

He started to eat his sandwich standing up in front of the counter, but soon crossed the apartment space to look out of the window instead. He found himself thinking about her beautiful eyes, the way they'd looked when she was trying to get her breath back, how she stared at him in a way he'd never experienced before. Sometimes, he got so caught up in how much he cared for her that he forgot how breathtakingly gorgeous she was. Every now and then that realization felt the need to stand up and slap him silly.

He munched his turkey on whole wheat, but it could have been tofu on sawdust for all the more he tasted it. His eyes raked over the town square, his mind going back over their impromptu rehearsal.

His arm around her waist…Her body, pressed against his…Her hair rubbing against his cheek…Just one little squeeze from his arm, and he would have had her just where he…

Luke jumped and nearly choked on his sandwich as his errant thoughts suddenly registered. He paced back and forth, ashamed.

I don't think about Lorelai like that, he insisted to himself. Never! Well, I do but…No! Not anymore! She's my friend; a good friend! And I'm married!

Well, not really, another part of his brain chimed in.

Yes, I am, he told himself firmly. As long as the papers haven't been signed, I'm married.

He cocked his head, wondering if that was why Lorelai hadn't wanted him to do this. She did say Nicole might not like it.

He smiled grimly. Well, she was right about that. Nicole would not like it. But he didn't know what it was going to require when he volunteered. He didn't know there'd be touching.

Touching her arm…Touching her hair…Letting his fingers rake through those curls that drove him crazy…Squeezing her tightly around her waist, drawing her as close to him as possible, so he could feel her…

He smacked himself on the forehead as he realized once again where his thoughts had strayed. What was wrong with him? He had a wife, damn it, and Lorelai was his friend, and he didn't fantasize about her anymore! He'd wrapped up all of those torturous dreams and put them away where they wouldn't torment him anymore. That was over! He'd moved on!

He sat down, trying to sort through his feelings, which wasn't an activity he participated in, as a rule. Look, he told himself, calmly, rationally, it would all be OK. It was just three minutes to help out the town. Three minutes to help out a friend. It meant nothing. Less than nothing. He was just a guy. And that's what guys do, right? Fantasize? It's not like he was actually going to act on any of those thoughts.

And Lorelai was attractive, you couldn't deny that. That body, and that face, and those eyes that just forced you to drink them in. Even the way she smelled. Like cherries. Cherries and coconuts. And maybe something like bubblegum? Which sounded totally disgusting, except on her, it was the most enticing combination ever. It was so enticing that he really wanted to press his mouth against her, see if she tasted as good as she…

"Arrgh! For the love of –!" he said aloud, hiding his face in his hands. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

He grabbed a glass on the way to the sink. He turned on the tap, filling the glass and taking a long gulp, hoping that somehow the water would clear his mind.

Out of the blue, an even more insane thought stopped him cold. Was it possible that the reason she didn't want him to be her picture partner was because she had some sort of, well…feelings…about him?

Nah, he decided. That's crazy. Plus, she was dating someone, wasn't she? She was always dating someone.

He saw her face, suddenly, the way she'd looked at him as he knelt in front of her. There'd been no teasing, no mocking, no obscure references to movies he'd never heard of. There'd just been those deep blue eyes, looking at him like he was a…a…piece of boysenberry pie, he thought, a little uncomfortably. Á la mode.

He looked blindly around his apartment. Well, that couldn't be it. That was crazy. Wasn't it?

Lorelai entered the diner early that evening as if demons were chasing her and this was her only place of refuge. It wasn't until she was fully inside that she remembered all of the weirdness with Luke earlier and her own determination not to come to the diner for a while until the weirdness factor had dissipated. How sad was it that her day had been so freaky that nearly swooning in Luke's arms was no longer the strangest thing that had happened to her today?

"Of course," she muttered, seeing that no tables were available and she'd have to sit at the counter.

Luke came out of the kitchen and saw her. Instantly it seemed as if he slipped his face behind a carefully-set mask. She noticed because she did the same thing.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She bit down on her desire to say 'hey' again.

"Ummm…Coffee?"

"Yes! Coffee!" She was delighted he'd come up with something else to say. Why hadn't she thought of that?

He poured her a mug and pushed it towards her.

Silence rained down again and she struggled to find a topic of conversation.

"So. You know, money is probably changing hands all over town by now. I imagine there was some sort of betting pool on whether or not Luke Danes would ever participate in a town-sponsored event."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter behind him. "I don't plan on making a habit of it."

"People are probably checking their thermometers, making sure hell hasn't frozen over."

He smirked, lowering his gaze to the floor.

"Looking out the window, searching for flying pigs…"

"I get it, Lorelai," he groused.

"Seriously, Luke, it's a nice thing you're doing." She wanted to emphasize her appreciation now, since she'd been less than enthusiastic earlier.

"Not that big of deal," he shrugged.

"Well, it's still nice," she insisted, smiling at him. "Yeah, we're really pretty lucky, with our painting. We just have our hats, and a little makeup, and our shirts. No one sees us below the waist, so we can do anything we want down there –" She stopped, horrified at the dirty insinuation that she, for once, had not meant to make. To cover, she sucked in a mouthful of coffee, feeling her cheeks flame.

Her eyes widened in panic as she registered the temperature of the coffee. She held onto the counter and made herself swallow.

"Oh, God! Hot! Hot! Hot!" She bounced up and down on her seat, fanning her mouth.

"As much of that crap as you drink, you think you'd have learned that important lesson by now." Even though he was in the midst of lecturing her, Luke turned and scooped up a glass of ice for her to use to cool her tongue.

Instantly she popped a cube into her mouth. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Truthfully, Luke was glad to have a reason to turn away from her, as his mind had willingly thought up all sorts of delightful things they could be doing below the waist. He wondered, though, at her reaction, since that was normally the sort of comment Lorelai would tie up with a bow and turn into a floorshow. Lorelai shy? Embarrassed? That was a first.

"You want something to eat?" he asked, trying to break through the strangeness engulfing them.

"How about a piece of pie with ice cream?"

"Have you had dinner?" he questioned sternly.

"Backwards day. I'll eat dessert first," she started to explain, watching as he began to pull himself up into a rant stance. She tried to derail it by pointing at her mouth. "Look at it this way. The ice cream will help my poor burned tongue."

"Here I thought the standard remedy for any and all injuries was a kis –"

Lorelai wasn't sure who was the most shocked at what he'd almost said. Her burnt mouth was hanging open and her eyes felt as big around as her coffee mug. Luke was her mirror image. What the hell was going on with them?

Luke turned, his movements almost mechanical. He lifted the plastic dome off the pie and cut an enormous slice. He scooped two huge mounds of ice cream for the top, and plopped the dessert plate down in front of her, not once looking her in the face. "Just don't think you're making a habit of this," he said gruffly. He grabbed the coffee pot and rushed out from behind the counter to check on his other customers.

Lorelai instantly shoved a bite of pie into her mouth, chewing frantically. She picked up the glass of ice and held it to her flushed cheeks. He had really almost said what she thought he had, right? It wasn't just her now-normal dirty Luke thoughts suddenly morphing into audio, was it?

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he found any excuse to avoid coming back to the counter for as long as possible, which made her think that her ears were working fine.

She ate quickly and was relieved when her plate was clean, signaling her exit. She hopped down from the stool, digging through her purse for her wallet. Unable to locate it, she dumped some of the contents onto the counter, but she misjudged just how much stuff was going to come pouring out, and brushes and keys and compacts went rolling onto the floor.

"Don't do that," Luke chided her, pointing at the debris on the counter. "People have to eat on that surface!" With a long-suffering sigh he helped her pick up.

"What is this?" he asked, the baby pager in his hand.

"Oh, that's my baby pager," she said, eagerly pushing the button to play the music for him. "Nice, huh?" she remarked, as 'The Entertainer' serenaded them.

"Baby pager?" he said blankly, ignoring the music. "What's that mean?"

"For when Sookie goes into labor. She wants me and Rory there."

"Is she nuts? She wants you to see her like that?" Luke sputtered, aghast.

"Well, she's my friend, Luke. If she wants me there, I'll be there. I'd do the same for you, you know." She patted his hand. "With or without scary Bruce."

"Bruce?"

"She's the midwife Sookie and Jackson hired to be there when the baby comes. They want to have the baby at home," she explained. "But let me tell you, I think the kid better toe the line when he comes out, because that woman has ex-Navy SEAL written all over her!"

Luke sucked in a breath before the rant exploded out of him. "They're having the baby at home? What are they thinking? What if something goes wrong! Sure, have the baby at home, just like back in the good ol' days when most women died in childbirth! It's not like we have any modern conveniences, like hospitals, where there are doctors and all sorts of equipment to help in emergencies! Oh, no! Stay home, away from all of the evil sterilized paraphernalia you might need!" He stopped for a moment, shaking his head. "And Jackson! Jackson is OK with this? He's really going to let his wife do this?"

"Luke, calm down," Lorelai said, sorry she'd brought the whole thing up. "They've researched this, and it's what they want. Sookie is healthy, and Bruce is the best midwife on the east coast. If something, God forbids, goes wrong, they'll go to the hospital. Really. It's OK," she added, trying to soothe him.

His eyes flared up at her, passionately. "I'd never let my wife do that!"

She suddenly felt flustered and confused. 'My wife' meant Nicole, but the way he was standing, looking at her so intently, seemed to indicate something else completely.

"Well, you're probably safe on that, because Nicole doesn't strike me as the homebirth type," she tried to joke, lamely.

Luke blinked at her like he didn't know who she was talking about. She saw his eyes cloud over as it hit him. He took a step back and once again started to shovel stuff back into her purse without comment.

Once everything was stowed away, they walked over to the cash register. As Luke handed her change back, he asked her, low and serious, "You wouldn't ever do that, would you?"

Lorelai tried to judge where his concern was coming from. "No," she said gently. Their eyes met for a moment, and just as it had earlier in the day, she felt a current of awareness jump between them. She briefly shut her eyes and tried to shake off the faux feeling of coupleness. "No," she repeated, trying not to look at him. "I've already pushed a kid out, and trust me, if I ever do it again, it'll be in a hospital with as many drugs as they'll let me have."

"Good," he said gruffly. "You're not really going to let Rory be there, are you?"

"Well, that's up to her," she sighed. "But if I know my squeamish little girl, she'll want to be far, far away. It'll be fine. Believe me, Sookie won't be checking the guest list."

He nodded, unsmiling, and slammed the drawer shut on the cash register.

"See you at dress rehearsal," she tried to say pleasantly, and whirled away to leave the diner the same way she'd entered, looking for refuge away from the demon thoughts swirling through her fevered head.

Luke watched Lorelai flee out the diner's door, listening to the bells jingle. He thought about wives, and babies…and her long fingers softly caressing the nape of his neck. He groaned and turned to yank out the plastic bin from underneath the counter, preparing to go bus some tables. If only he could clear his mind of inappropriate thoughts just as easily as he could rid tables of used napkins and half-eaten plates of chili fries.

In her Jeep, Lorelai wrapped those long fingers around the steering wheel, thankful to be away from his intense, beautiful face. She really didn't know what to do. Lorelai Gilmore always had a plan. Her quick brain could always analyze potential pitfalls and be prepared with a dozen solutions. Granted, her solutions sometimes caused more problems in the long run, but she'd never found herself faced with such a heart-wrenching, moral mess as what she was experiencing right now. She knew what she should do, and she knew what she wanted to do, and frankly, there was no way to reconcile those two things.

Moodily, she wondered if it was too late to just go take her chances in Terrence's garage.

"So at first I thought that maybe Marty was boyfriend material, you know? But now I'm not sure."

"Uh huh," Lorelai murmured soothingly. "Uh, wait. Who's Marty?"

"Naked Guy," Rory said impatiently. Her mother was especially obtuse today.

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Naked Guy." Lorelai tried hard to keep her sleep-deprived, lust-addled, sugar-overloaded brain to the topic at hand. "I don't know, Hon, it seems a shame to give up such great meet-cute like that."

"I know!" Rory agreed. "That's why I kept thinking it was meant to be, you know? And he's a great guy. You'd love him, Mom. But I keep getting 'friend' vibe off of him. If he was 'it,' wouldn't there be sparks and heat and all sorts of other flame-inspired metaphors?"

A tremor ran through Lorelai as she once again felt Luke's arm around her waist from the day before. With a huge effort she focused instead on her daughter. "I don't know. Isn't that what the whole dating thing's about? You meet someone you like, a friend, and then you explore the possibility of more? I mean, just because you feel friendly today doesn't mean that things won't heat up later, the more you get to know each other. That's always possible, right?" Her cheeks flushed with guilt, and she ducked her head, hoping Rory wouldn't pick up on her discomfort.

"Maybe," Rory sighed. "I just thought it'd be easier. You know, moving from here to Yale, where there's tons more romantic possibilities."

"This is just a thought, sweetie, but…maybe you're not quite ready for…romantic possibilities." Lorelai spoke slowly, not sure if it was safe to broach that topic yet.

"Jess is gone, Mom." Her voice was bitter, but accepting. "And I'm not saying I'm ready for the love of my life, or anything. I'm just ready to move on."

"Then you will," Lorelai said firmly, believing as always that her daughter would somehow manage to possess all that she desired. "When it's time, you will. With a great guy. Maybe just not with the naked one," she amended, giggling a little.

They stepped off the curb, and Lorelai suddenly became aware of where they were headed.

"Hey! Whoa, whoa! Where are we going?"

Rory laughed. "Luke's," she said, shaking her head at how oblivious Lorelai could sometimes be. "Where else?"

No, no, no! Lorelai's brain started to panic. Rory had shown up at the Crapshack about an hour ago, and as always, Lorelai was happy to see her, but today she was especially glad because Rory would take her mind off of her dilemma. And she had, beautifully, chattering about Yale, and Paris, and her classes, and Lane's new band mate Gil and some strange story about Babette being a groupie, and finishing up with the Marty conundrum. She was happy to provide an ear, grateful to have her own head filled with something besides Luke. But somehow they'd walked to town and apparently to Luke's without her awareness or consent.

"I'm not hungry," she stated. That much was true. She'd gotten through last night with TV and loud music and internet surfing and looking through catalogs for items for the new inn. She'd even called her mother and chastised her for being out of town for Friday night dinner. All had gone well until she paused momentarily while brushing her teeth and she'd looked into her own eyes in the mirror. What she'd seen there had panicked her, and she'd run back downstairs. Grabbing a bottle of chocolate syrup, she'd proceeded to systematically eat her way through the kitchen, starting with the obvious, ice cream, and working her way through Cool Whip, Pop Tarts, and a bowl of peanut butter Cap'n'Crunch before swigging it directly from the bottle. The nausea from the overeating was preferable to the shameful feeling of lusting after her good friend. Her good married friend.

"You're not hungry?" Rory raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Fine. You can sit and have coffee and watch me eat."

"How about Weston's?" Lorelai asked, a little desperately. "They've added an apple crunch cake in Fran's honor that you'd love! Really! You should try it."

"No. I want a Luke's burger. Made by Luke. At Luke's." Undeterred, Rory pulled her mother through the door.

Luke sighed with relief when he looked up and saw Lorelai entering the diner. He'd been worried that his weird behavior from the day before was keeping her away. But now, seeing her, his anxiety increased again as he fretted about what he might accidentally let slip today. His tension eased somewhat as he registered that Rory was with her. Thank God. A buffer.

"Rory!" he cried, more jovially than normal, and followed up his greeting with a not-normal hug, as well. "How's Yale treating you?"

"Good, good, it's good," Rory replied, flustered from his uncharacteristic welcome. "The only thing that could make it better would be if you'd open up a satellite location there, so I could get my Luke's burger and fries on a regular basis." She and Lorelai sat down while Luke continued to stand there, beaming awkwardly at her. "Uh, that's my order, by the way," she added, a little puzzled by his behavior.

"Oh, OK! Got it," he assured her. He turned cautiously to Lorelai. "And you?" he asked, carefully.

"Just some coffee," she said precisely, as though she'd memorized the line. After a short pause she added, "Please."

He nodded. "Coming right up," he mumbled, as he dove for the kitchen.

Rory looked from her mother to the path Luke had beaten to the kitchen. "Are you and Luke fighting again?"

Lorelai looked surprised. "No!"

"Did one of you see the other one naked?"

"No!" Lorelai's cheeks burned once again.

"Then what is going on?"

"Ummm, nothing?"

"I've never seen you two so formal with each other," Rory pointed out. "I was waiting for him to call you 'Ms. Gilmore.' I thought you were going to curtsy."

Luke reappeared at their table, bringing coffee in two huge mugs. He dipped his head at them before turning to leave.

"What is it?" Rory hissed at her mom after that display.

Lorelai tried to come up with something believable. In a low voice, just for Rory, she said, "He volunteered to do the festival picture thing with me. It feels like such a huge debt. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Mom, he does favors for us all the time," Rory pointed out. "It's never bothered you before."

"This is different," Lorelai insisted. "All the stuff he does around the house I've accepted, because it's almost like he does it for his own peace of mind. He does it so he doesn't worry. But this…This is different. He volunteered. I didn't even ask. And somehow it makes me feel at a disadvantage, like there's no way to repay him."

"You know that's not how Luke's mind works."

"I know," Lorelai agreed, nervously toying with her coffee mug. "It's just the way I feel."

Luke brought over Rory's food. He glanced at Lorelai. "You're really not eating?" he asked her, skeptically. "What's wrong? Stage fright?" As soon as he started to tease her, he sounded like his usual self.

"Yes, that's it exactly," she confirmed, a slight smile on her lips. "Taylor'll have me banned if I flinch again."

"Well, don't worry about that," Luke said confidently. "I'll be there to hold you up."

And that's exactly what I'm worried about, Lorelai thought, as another hot tingle of awareness rushed through her body.

A few hours later, Lorelai was skittering around backstage, getting everyone ready for dress rehearsal.

"Your ferret's coming," she assured Rory.

"Actually, I researched the painting, and it's not a ferret," Rory explained. "It's a marten pelt. Apparently back in the day, that was how you got a little nookie. Antea posing with it and dressed in all of her jewels, plus holding her hand the way she did, was a signal to someone that she was ready to accept his gifts and become his mistress."

Lorelai gasped. "So Antea's a slut?"

Rory shrugged her shoulders under the heavy brocade. "I can't say that definitively. I can only tell you that the painting was a 'go' symbol."

"Wow." Lorelai frowned at Rory's costume. "I feel kinda pimp-ish now that I pushed for you to do this."

"It's OK. I promise I'll stay away from any married guys trying to put marten pelts on me."

"That sounds like a good rule in any facet of life –"

"Hey."

Lorelai broke off what she was saying, startled as Luke suddenly appeared at her side.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "It's just – can you help me get ready, please, instead of Patty?" His eyes pleaded with her.

"Sure, sure," she stammered, even though she knew it wasn't a good idea. "You're ready to go," she nodded to Rory, and then walked with determination over to where the items were laid out for her scene with Luke.

"We're not doing full makeup for the run-through," she told him, mainly just to have something to say. "Here's your shirt and jacket," she pointed out to him.

Lorelai watched out of the corner of her eye, pretending not to be interested, as Luke took off his flannel shirt. It was a good one today, the burgundy and gray plaid, which really made his eyes pop. She watched more openly as he started to button up the blue shirt for the painting.

"Oh, hey, you know what?" she frowned. "That's not going to work. You can see your t-shirt poking out at the top."

"Oh. OK," Luke agreed, looking down and understanding the problem. He immediately removed the blue shirt and then whipped the t-shirt over his head.

Lorelai gulped in the sight of bare skin for a glorious moment before swiftly spinning herself around.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She heard his voice, mocking. "Did I offend your delicate sensibilities?"

Her heart was pounding. "No, no," she sputtered, feeling foolish. "It's just I know you're a private person. Thought you might want some privacy." Bravely, she turned back around and was relieved to see he was once again buttoning up the blue shirt. She handed him the jacket, waited for him to put that on, and then handed him the hat.

"That doesn't go on backwards, by the way."

"Ha ha."

She grinned, and stepped closer to tilt the hat the way it needed to go for the recreation. She stepped back again, eyeing him critically. "That's a great color on you, Luke," she said, unable to stop the words. "You look good."

"Good how?" he smirked.

She laughed. "I'm not getting pulled into that conversation again."

Lorelai already had on the white blouse worn by her character, and now she reached for the prescribed red bonnet. Without a mirror, her fingers fumbled while trying to tie the bow properly under her chin.

"Here. Let me."

Surely he must be able to feel how hard her heart was pounding? His fingers pressed against the pulse in her neck as he took care to tie the bow. In spite of the bad result from yesterday, she didn't breathe while his surprisingly gentle fingers brushed against her jaw and her throat, as he attempted to fluff the ribbons out.

She tried, very hard, to make her voice sound normal, and not breathless with desire. "I would have never dreamed that Luke Danes could tie bows."

"Had a little sister," he explained, sounding distracted. His fingers strayed from the bow and instead touched the creamy white skin in the hollow of her throat for a moment, until he seemed to realize what he was doing and abruptly pulled them away. He gave his head a hard shake. "Had to take up the slack after my mom died," he added, his voice now gruff.

Luke so rarely gave out any details concerning his early life that Lorelai was stunned. "Yeah, I think I maybe know what you mean," she said cautiously, not wanting to say the wrong thing and inadvertently make him clam up – or to take a step away from her. She liked him just where he was. "When Rory was little, and it was just the two of us, I found myself doing all sorts of things I never imagined I would."

"You get so used to it being just you, you don't realize that someday things might change." Luke said that very slowly and deliberately, as his hands slipped down to grasp Lorelai's shoulders. He looked at her intently. "You think it will always be just you. And it's easy to get impatient, you know? You think there's no way things will ever change!"

Lorelai nodded, because he seemed to expect her to respond, but she was totally at a loss as to what he was getting at. His fingers were caressing her shoulders, and his eyes, so serious and so close and so damn blue, weren't helping her powers of reasoning, either.

"But, if you'd just waited, things might have changed on their own. But now, it's too late, because you've forced the change! The wrong change! You see?" His voice had taken on a low intensity as he tried desperately to persuade her.

Lorelai shook her head, wishing she could grasp what he was getting at. "Luke, I'm not sure what –"

Miss Patty clapped her hands smartly at them. "Here, you two! Curtain! Now!"

She herded them to their spot on stage and they got into position with very little prompting.

Lorelai felt his pulse jump under her fingertips as she wrapped her hand around his neck. She took a deep breath and gave herself a pep talk.

You are not going to think about what it feels like when he kisses you, she firmly ordered her frisky hormones.

Uh, wait – he hasn't kissed me, another part of her brain rationally pointed out.

Yes he has, the frisky part replied, sounding smug.

When?

You had on the cute pink nightgown with the ruffles.

That was a dream! she told herself, fed up with her over-active imagination.

Doesn't matter, her brain taunted her. You can feel it, can't you? You remember what it was like, going up on tiptoe, cradling his face for a kiss. Remember how his whiskers felt under your fingers? Remember his hand on your stomach?

Lorelai whimpered as a flash of warmth spread through her.

"You OK?" he asked, trying not to move his lips.

She made an 'hmmm' noise that hopefully sounded like she was OK. Because, truthfully, she was not OK. She was so far from OK that she couldn't even remember what OK felt like.

"Just hold still." It felt like he breathed the words into her ear. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"This is it, you two," Patty hissed. "Hold it! Go!"

They both froze into their positions.

Luke wondered what had caused her temperature to spike the way it had. He thought his hand might be scorched from clutching her waist. Had she understood any of what he'd been half-trying to tell her? And why the hell did it feel so good to hold her?

It was so much more than just lust or sex or the fact that she was such a gorgeous woman. It had more to do with the way she fit, molded up against him, but not in just the physical sense. That part was exciting, yes, but somehow comforting, too. It was pleasure, but also security, and…and…home. He couldn't think of any other word to describe it. All he knew was that he'd never felt anything like it. Not with Rachel, even, and certainly not with Nicole.

What was he thinking, marrying someone who didn't feel like this? Why were those papers still languishing in the safe upstairs in his apartment instead of being processed in a courthouse somewhere? Why was he –

"Time!" Patty called. "You two are adorable! Renoir himself couldn't tell the difference!"

Slowly, Luke's eyes met Lorelai's, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Lorelai beat him to it.

"I've got to go," she murmured, yanking off her bonnet. She pulled open her blouse, much to the interest of every male in attendance, but she had on a tank top underneath. "I've got to go," she said again, her voice firmer this time. She pushed her costume pieces at a befuddled Patty. "I'll be back in plenty of time for the show, but I've got to go now!"

She turned, ready to run away. She almost tripped over Gypsy on the steps, who was headed inside to tease Andrew about his performance.

"Wait! Lorelai!" Multiple voices called after her, but she was gone.

She sprinted down the street as athletically as she was able and eventually realized that she heard other footsteps besides her own.

"Mom! Stop!"

Rory pulled out a burst of speed and caught up with her mother. "Mom, calm down," she urged, grabbing Lorelai's arm. "Talk to me. What was that back there?"

Lorelai spun partway around, to confirm it was indeed Rory. She tried to catch a breath and calm her hammering heart while she looked at her sweet daughter. "I suck! Oh, I suck!" she cried out, thoroughly ashamed by her wanton thoughts and desires. "I'm despicable! I'm wretched! I never meant to be like this! This is not the example I wanted you to see!"

Rory could see her mother's obvious panic, but she had no clue what had gotten her so upset. "What am I not supposed to see?" she asked, perplexed. "My mother spazzing out on the sidewalk?"

Lorelai rubbed her arms, frantically looking from side to side. "It's Luke!" she finally hissed out, in a frenetic whisper. "It's Luke! It's always been Luke! I mean, I've always known, sort of, but it was just easier not to know! But now I know! It's Luke!" She tried to keep her voice down, but even low-pitched, she sounded absolutely hysterical.

"OK, OK," Rory said soothingly, although her own insides were jumping around from Lorelai's panic. She took her mother's arm and tried to urge her towards home. "So, when you say, 'It's Luke,' do you mean he's the reason for this display of crazy?"

"I mean he's it! He's the one who's supposed to be there. He's there with the heat and the sparks and all of the things you were talking about earlier." Lorelai stopped short and looked aghast at Rory. "Now do you see what I mean? I suck!"

"Oh, boy," Rory muttered, as everything became clear.

"I know! I know!" Lorelai started pacing, once again in the throes of her panic attack. "He can't be those things and I can't feel those things, because he can't!"

Rory looked about them and was thankful to see they'd somehow made it to their house. She all but dragged her mom across their yard, pulled her up the steps and pushed her through the front door. She kept pushing until they reached the sanctuary of the living room. If there would have been blinds to pull shut, she would have, to try and keep this revelation contained.

"When did this start?" Rory asked, trying to be logical and find the beginning of the dilemma.

Lorelai snorted, still pacing across the room. "I don't know," she said sarcastically. "When was the first time we went to the diner?"

"Mom, be serious."

"I am! You think I didn't notice him right away? Those eyes and those eyelashes and –" Here she made a motion up and down her body. "Patty's not the only one who'd like to –"

"Hey! Remember who you're talking to, here," Rory interjected, really not wanting to go there. "If you felt like that for so long, why didn't you ever try to date him?"

"Because it seemed like I pretty much repulsed him," Lorelai said bitterly. "That's what the whole 'Duke' thing was about. I kept trying to pretend I didn't care. Then he showed me how sweet he can be and he became my friend, and I thought, OK, friend. I can do friend. And I pushed everything else away. Because I'm good at the whole denial thing, you know."

"Oh, I know."

"Then, about the time you started Chilton, I started getting something different off of him," Lorelai continued, still agitated. "And I thought, hmmm, maybe, you know? And there were so many chances, so many close calls, but nothing happened. Then Rachel showed up, and I thought, OK, he's still hung up on her, and that's OK. I mean, I understand. I had Christopher, so I understand the old first love thing. By the time she left, there was Max, but even after Max, there were no signs from him. So again, I thought, OK, I'm wrong. And then we had the whole blow-up about Jess. And then…then he dated Nicole. I thought Nicole was like his Max, and I tried to understand, to put it in context. But then…but then, he married her, Rory! He married her! He didn't even give me a chance!" She felt heartbroken and the words came out in a wail by the end of her speech, as she wrung her hands in despair.

"Aw, poor Mommy," Rory cooed sympathetically, trying to get her arms around Lorelai to give her a hug. "But why are you in such distress now?"

"I don't know. I don't know!" Lorelai broke away and started her pacing again. "I guess because he's holding me and I see how good it could have been, and it's killing me that I blew this chance. I don't know why he didn't want me. I don't know why he didn't pick me. All I know is it hurts and it makes me sick that I can't stop this – this neediness inside me! I know it's wrong and I know it's an awful example for you, but I just can't make it stop!"

Rory was starting to worry about how frantic Lorelai was and made an effort to get her calmed down. She sat on the couch and grabbed Lorelai as she passed by, pulling her to rest beside her. She held her mother tightly, making soothing noises as they rocked back and forth together. As Lorelai stilled, Rory made the decision to get philosophical.

"You know, Mom," she said softly, stroking Lorelai's hair as if she was the mother comforting her own poor little lovesick girl, "I think both of us just need to come to grips with the fact that our guys are married. Luke…and Dean. They're both married now."

She let the words sink in.

Lorelai pulled back and stared at her with huge, stricken eyes. "Oh, Rory," she breathed out. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes," Rory confirmed, with a sigh and a shrug. "So I understand completely. The only thing worse for me is that I had him and let him go."

"But you and Jess…"

"Yeah." Rory shook her head. "And you know? I'm not sorry I tried it with Jess. I know you had your issues with him, but he was good for me, Mom. He was bright and quick, and it was so nice to be with someone who just got it right away. In fact, I had to be on my toes to be with him. So I'm not sorry I tried. What's funny, though, with Jess, is I always worried that I wasn't mature enough for him. But then when it came right down to it, I was the one who was ready for more, and he cut and ran. Oh, I know he had more problems than just me. But he wasn't willing to work on any of them so he could stay with me."

"But you still miss Dean?" Lorelai asked, quietly, thinking maybe she'd misunderstood.

Rory took her time, reflecting, before she tried to formulate her answer. "I don't think Jess and I would have ever been a long-term thing," she said slowly. "But Dean…What I really wish is that I could have met Dean five years from now. I wish I could have gone through Jess and some Yale guys, and then met Dean. He's so steady, and kind, and he loved me so much, and at a different stage of my life maybe I could have seen how great that was. I think I really blew it. I thought there'd be time to try again later, but now there's…Lindsay." She said the name fully, letting both syllables drop off her tongue.

"Oh, Sweetie, I'm so sorry." Lorelai thought she couldn't feel worse than she did a few minutes ago, but now she saw she was wrong. "I'm so sorry, Kid."

"Me too," Rory said, with a sad little smile. "I'm sorry for you. And for me."

"I guess we're not as irresistible as we thought, huh?"

"Evidence seems to support that," Rory agreed. She sighed again. "What's awful is that I still think of him as my Dean. But he's not. He's Lindsay's Dean. It must be even worse for you, because Luke's always been our guy."

"He's still that Luke," Lorelai said quickly. "You know he'll always be there for you, Rory. And for me, too, as a friend. This whole picture fiasco proves that. I just don't know how much longer I can keep up this front around him, that everything's normal and I'm cool with it all. It's getting harder and harder to go in the diner and pretend I don't care."

Rory's forehead wrinkled. "But I thought they were getting a divorce, Nicole and Luke. Aren't they?"

"I can't think like that," Lorelai insisted. "I can't hope for something that might be devastating for him. I'm not going to wish for something bad, so that maybe I can get what I want. Besides, if he really wanted to be free of her, of this marriage, wouldn't he be, by now? Instead, he keeps prolonging the process, jumping through all of her legal hoops. It makes me think that he's dragging his heels for a reason."

"Mom," Rory started to protest gently, thinking back on all of the times she'd seen Luke look longingly at her mom. "When it comes to you, I still think that Luke feels –"

Lorelai swiftly put her hand over Rory's mouth. "Don't," she pleaded. "That makes it worse."

"OK." Rory nodded in understanding. "Sorry."

"You've got the right idea," Lorelai tried to say lightly, forcing a smile. "He's not my Luke. He's Nicole's Luke." Her face turned sour and she couldn't control the shudder that ran through her.

"Oh, now, that's just wrong," Rory muttered.

Lorelai suddenly sprang up and grabbed her purse and keys. "Come on," she urged.

"Where?" Rory asked, but she got up at once.

"Big Ed's. We're getting the Big Moose 10-Scoop Sundae. I'll pick five flavors; you'll pick five."

"Do we really have time to drive to Woodbridge and back?"

"Of course we do."

"Is this really what you want to do?" Rory asked, hoping to get her mom to slow down a little bit, to think first.

"No, it's not," Lorelai agreed, linking her arm through Rory's and propelling them both towards the door. "What I really want is to drown myself in a vat of Long Island Iced Tea, but I'm not getting drunk with my daughter and adding that to my none-too-stellar motherhood resume. We both need something to soothe us after our little heart-to-heart here, though. At least I'll still be able to drive after indulging in the Big Moose."

"But will you be able to walk?" Rory questioned, as they rushed out the door. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"We skip the scoop of bubblegum this time," Lorelai confirmed. "We learned our lesson the hard way about that."

Backstage before the performance was a bustling place, and Lorelai found it easy to keep avoiding Luke. There were plenty of other performers and costumes that needed her attention. She saw him coming towards her at one point, but she grabbed up a ripped tunic and ran to a sewing machine, where she asked the elementary school art teacher to do his makeup for him. Her stomach was tied up in knots, but she wasn't sure how much of that was courtesy of Big Ed and how much was the angst of heartache.

She spied Rory, looking regal, peeking out at the crowd from behind the plush curtain.

"Your marten pelt, my lady," she intoned, slinging it over Rory's shoulder.

"Eww." Rory looked at the fur skeptically. "And why would this be an enticement to climb into someone's bed?"

"I dunno. Maybe flat, dead animals were a turn-on back in the 1500's."

She felt Rory go extra-still, and she craned her head to see past her into the audience. She saw Dean in the crowd, his arm possessively around Lindsay as they chatted with friends.

"Oh, Hon," Lorelai whispered, her heart breaking for her baby girl.

"No, it's OK." Rory didn't turn from the sight. "It's good that I see this. I need to get this picture in my head. I need to believe it."

"But it still hurts," Lorelai said softly.

"Oh yeah," Rory said grimly. "It hurts."

Impulsively, Lorelai hugged her tight.

"Hey, watch the makeup!"

"Sorry, you little hussy!"

Rory smiled faintly. "You don't think me portraying this character is some sort of cosmic foreshadowing, do you?"

"Absolutely not!" Lorelai was incensed at the very thought. "I know you too well, and you'd never permit yourself to do anything like that! Never!" Her tone got softer. "It would be like thinking Luke would."

"Yeah," Rory sighed, as their eyes met in understanding.

Patty sailed over to them, the queen of timing. "Rory! You're up!"

"Break a leg, Kid," Lorelai said, for luck.

Rory turned quickly back to face her, as she adjusted the disgusting pelt one more time. "No flinching," she told her mother firmly. "Close your eyes and think of England!"

Lorelai laughed, but she wasn't sure why.

After Antea had her moment in the spotlight and the Chinese acrobats were captured in mid-tumble and the bucolic shepherdess had herded her sheep, a skinny woman in expensive lawyer-like shoes prowled around outside of the diner, shaking her head at the lunacy once again on display in this crazy town. To her surprise, the diner was locked, and since he'd never given her a key to anything she had no way to get in. She peeked down the alley and saw his rustic truck parked there. She found it very hard to believe that he would be anywhere in the vicinity of whatever was going on out in the town square, but she didn't see many other options. She'd have to sit down and wait. She'd been very patient, she thought, content to let her legal colleagues badger him. She had a feeling it was time for her to pounce and offer him a way out.

On her way to an open seat she passed a cute Asian girl talking to a heavily made-up young woman in a gold brocade gown, who appeared to have a…a ferret? Yes, a ferret on her shoulder. Once she took her seat she looked back and realized it was that girl, the one Luke bragged on all the time, usually sounding proud enough to be her father. What was her name? Rhoda? Rebecca? Something with an 'R.' Her daughter.

With a little sneer she settled in to watch what passed for high art in this little burg. It would have to do until her husband showed up.

"There you are." Lorelai jumped as Luke came to stand beside her. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He was dressed as his character and he looked good. Damn good. Apparently her expression gave away her thoughts, because he preened under her admiring gaze just a bit.

"Get over yourself." She chuckled, in spite of her nerves, and smacked his arm playfully.

"Watch the costume," he growled. "Taylor'll have my head if one thread's out of place."

"Lucky then that you know a seamstress who works cheap," she said, flirting automatically. Ingrained habits were hard to break.

In the next moment, Luke dipped his head closer to hers. "Listen, we need to talk," he said, suddenly quiet and serious.

Panic flared up in the pit of her stomach. Dammit – he knew? "Yes, I'm afraid we do, but not now, please?" She hoped her pleading could win him over. "Let's just get our scene done first, OK?"

"But as soon as it's over…"

Lorelai nodded, her eyes once again caught by the irresistible allure of his.

"Luke! Lorelai!" Patty hissed at them. "Scene!"

They maneuvered themselves behind their picture frame. Their bodies were anxious to get into position, both of them positively breathless at the chance to be together again.

Lorelai smoothed her hand around his neck, smiling slightly as she felt his pulse race.

Luke tucked his arm tightly around her waist, praying that this wouldn't be the last time he ever got to hold her like this. He tried not to let his thoughts get the best of him as she molded herself up against him.

"All right?" he managed to ask. She looked up into his face and his breath caught in his already-strangled throat as he recognized the longing displayed there.

"Places!" Patty stage-whispered to them.

With effort, she turned her face away, casting her eyes down demurely. Luke angled his head.

"I give you the Dance at Bougival!" they heard Taylor proclaim.

"She's not going to flinch, is she?" Patty asked Rory nervously.

"Eh," Rory said, shrugging her shoulders. Flinching was the least of her mother's worries right now.

The curtain slowly parted, showing the appreciative audience Renoir's masterpiece. Luke's fingers pressed just a bit deeper into Lorelai's waist, hoping to reassure her. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

Out in the audience, Nicole cast a critical eye over this newest scene. It was very true to the original, she had to admit that. She found herself staring at the woman's face. Irritation flooded over her as she realized who she was looking at. Of course. Of course she would be front and center in a production like this. Of course she would want to be on display.

Impatiently, Nicole tried to turn her attention away, but found herself staring instead at the man in the scene. There was something so familiar…

She rose to her feet as anger flared through her.

"Sit down!" someone ordered behind her, in a harsh whisper.

Nicole didn't sit down. She left her seat and stalked over to the steps that led to backstage, just as the first notes of 'The Entertainer' wafted out over the crowd.

As the tinny music unexpectedly serenaded their onstage tableau, Luke's fingers tightened their grip on Lorelai, reminding her of where she was, trying to assure her that he remained steadfast. He was her Luke, and he wasn't going away, no matter what. He wasn't going to let her fail at anything.

People in the audience looked around warily, wondering what crass individual was committing this monumental faux pas. Taylor's blood pressure shot up as he whipped his gaze over the audience, ready to kill whoever was responsible for this tasteless musical interlude.

"Stay…stay…" Rory pleaded under her breath.

"Oy to the vey!" Patty crossed herself quickly.

Patty and Rory stood transfixed, hoping for the best, when pungent, expensive perfume teased their noses. Their heads swiveled and they beheld Nicole seething next to them.

Patty crossed herself again.

"Holy crap!" Rory muttered. "What else can go wrong?"

Patty checked her watch. "Oh, thank God! That's it! Curtain! Curtain!"

The curtain swung into place, shielding them from the town. Luke loosened his hold on her hand, and brought his hand down to join his other one, encircling her waist. Lorelai turned her face back to his, and she knew, without a doubt, that he was going to kiss her. Breathless with anticipation, she placed her hands against his face, cradling it.

She might be going to hell, but it would be so worth it.

'The Entertainer' was still serenading them.

His lips were so close to hers she swore they had their own gravitational pull, reeling her in.

"Well, isn't this just a cozy little picture?"

The frosty voice invaded the cocoon for two they'd created and Luke and Lorelai jumped apart.

"Nicole," Luke said darkly. He shook his head, trying to come back to reality.

"Hi, uh, Nicole. This isn't…this isn't the way it looks…We're not…" Lorelai trailed off, because honestly, there wasn't any good way to spin this. She looked helplessly at Luke.

"I need to –" Scowling, he cut himself off abruptly, using his shoulder to motion towards Nicole.

"Oh, yes! Yes, of course!" Lorelai was only too anxious to get away from them.

"Where is that insane music coming from?" Nicole demanded.

"Oh! That would be me." Lorelai fumbled at her waist until she unclipped the pager, mercifully finding the 'off' button. "So I…I need to go! Because babies don't wait, you know. Well, sometimes they do. Actually, usually, you have to wait a lot. The initial nine months, then seventeen hours of labor…And, you know what, I need to go. So, um…bye! Nice seeing you again, Nicole!" She smiled insincerely at the fuming woman, gave an anguished look at Luke, and turned to go to Rory, but in her panic to leave, her foot snagged on one of the legs of the "Last Supper" table, pitching her forward. Luckily three of the disciples caught her before she could hit the ground, and set her back on her feet.

"Thanks!" she yelled to the helpful apostles. She grabbed her horrified daughter, and the two of them took off, dashing down the dark streets to Sookie's house.

Luke wasn't sure what time it was when he finally was free to stroll down the same darkened streets. He guessed it was after midnight. It felt late; he could tell that much. Man, it was good to be back in his normal clothes and to have all of that annoying makeup washed off. And it felt really good to have everything with Nicole cleared up. He felt better than he had in months.

Now, just one more thing to settle. Although he'd never been superstitious, not even as a boy, he crossed his fingers anyway.

He walked up the steps to Sookie and Jackson's door and almost knocked before he realized what he was doing. His need to see and to talk to Lorelai was overwhelming, but not so much as to supersede what was going on inside the house. Yeah, he had no desire to interrupt that.

He spotted a glider next to the house. It was a comfortable enough spot to wait. Maybe someone would come out eventually and he'd send a message in to her. For now, he was going to ignore what was happening inside the house, and concentrate instead on those spectacularly sweet and surprisingly vulnerable blue eyes that had stared up at him tonight.

With that happy vision in his head, he soon dozed off.

"Luke?"

He awoke with effort and saw Lorelai standing before him. Her arms were folded protectively over her chest, a tentative smile was on her face, and worry lines creased her forehead.

Luke sat up and tried to focus his thoughts. "How are things going in there?" he asked groggily.

Lorelai sat down on the glider next to him, but not too close. "Do you really want to know?" she asked mischievously.

"No," he said, quickly, his wits coming back.

She laughed. "Everything's fine. It's slow. The whole baby thing is a lot of hurry up and wait. Sookie's feeling some discomfort, but nothing major, yet. We've been playing poker, actually."

"Is Rory in there?"

"No. She stayed for a little bit. She'll check back in the morning. I had her take our costumes back to Patty."

Luke saw that Lorelai too had scrubbed off all of the heavy makeup. Her hair was tucked back behind her ears. She'd done whatever she did to make it straight, but the humidity in the air was starting to make it curl again. She had on some sort of gauzy, hippie-looking white tunic top with lots of blue embroidery on it. It didn't look like anything she'd normally wear, and Luke realized it was probably something of Sookie's that she'd borrowed. "You look beautiful," he heard himself say. Apparently the late hour made it easier for the words he'd always wanted to say to pop out.

She ducked her head, pleased, but her hands flew to her bare face and untamed hair self-consciously.

"Was Nicole really mad?" she ventured to ask, deliberately not looking at him.

"Yep. She was really mad," Luke confirmed, with a nearly cheerful lilt to his voice.

Lorelai blew out a big breath and grasped the edge of the glider under her. "I could…I could talk to her. I could let her know that it's all my fault. I mean, she already hates me." She tried to make it sound like a joke.

"Oh, yeah," Luke agreed. "She hates you!" He chuckled.

The man chuckled.

Lorelai was taken aback by his seemingly good mood. Did that mean they'd worked everything out? Panic started to build up inside of her again. She feared that if she didn't try to get things straightened out between them now, they'd never have a chance to build up their friendship again.

"So, Luke. I'm gonna just talk here for a while. I'm gonna try and get some stuff out. And this is all on me, OK? This is all my fault. So just let me talk, OK?"

"Have I ever been able to shut you up?"

Well, Lorelai could think of once. She floundered around, trying to come up with the first words, while Luke sat patiently.

"So, basically, I…covet you."

"You covet me?" he repeated, slowly, a mocking note in his voice.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah," she confirmed, sighing. "I mean, it's been a long time since I've been to church, but I'm positive that's the correct term. And I know that's a bad thing. You're not supposed to covet your neighbor's house, or ass, or…or husband, and I know that technically Nicole's not my neighbor, but I also know that 'neighbor' is meant to be like, anyone you know, and well, you are definitely a husband, and I…I covet you."

"You…" Luke was trying to catch up.

"I want to commit adultery with you," Lorelai said bluntly. "I know that's one of the big rules. One of the top ten. But I don't care. I really, really, really want to commit adultery with you. Multiple times. Really. You can throw about a hundred more 'reallys' in there, because that's how crazy this is making me."

"M…Multiple times?" Luke stammered, picking one word at random for clarification.

"Oh, yeah," Lorelai sighed in confirmation, and for a moment both of them were lost inside a beautiful shared fantasy.

"But you're a good guy, Luke," she said wistfully, tearing herself away from her lustful vision and back to the dilemma currently sitting next to her in Sookie's glider. "You'd never be a party to anything like that, and I know it. I admire you and I respect you so much. Unfortunately I also lust after you. But I know it's one-sided; I know it's my fault. I've done my best to ignore it." She paused long enough to take a breath and prepare for the plunge. "So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to stay away from you, because it's gotten to the point where I don't trust myself anymore. I don't want to make trouble with Nicole, and I don't want you to feel weird around me. So I'll just stay away from the diner and avoid –"

"You'll do no such thing!" Luke exploded, shaking his head violently.

"Luke, I just don't see any other –"

"You will not stay away from the diner!" he decreed.

"Luke…" Lorelai cast around for some way to make him understand. "I'm just not strong enough, OK? I can't do it anymore, come in and pretend everything's great and I'm happy for you. I can't do it!"

"Stop! Just stop!" He needed something so irrefutable she'd see his logic. He hadn't bothered to put on his baseball cap and his bare head felt untethered and liable to go floating free at any moment, so he pressed his hands on top of his head, trying to think. "For one thing, you're the strongest person I know. For another, the last thing I want you to do is to stop coming in the diner. I watch for you to come in everyday, do you realize that? I hate the days you don't come in!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Luke, it's too hard," she whispered, despair making her voice crack.

"Lorelai." He grabbed both her hands with his, and waited until she looked at him. "It's only adultery if I'm married."

"I hate to break this to you, Butch, but you are!"

"For another 90 days," he said quickly. "I won't be able to send in the divorce papers until Monday, but they are going first thing, and Nicole's promised to expedite matters as much as possible. That's what we were talking about. She knows it's over. She had some cockamamie idea that we should give it another try, but I set her straight on that. We should have never tried in the first place!"

Lorelai blinked, looking from his face down to where he was fiercely clasping her hands. "Does this mean that you sort of…like me, too?"

"Oh, Lorelai." He laughed silently. "After all these years, you honestly don't know how I feel about you?"

She gulped, pulling her thumbs out from under his and rubbing them over the skin on his hands. "But you married her," she pointed out, the hurt apparent in her tone.

"That's what I was trying to explain to you this afternoon," Luke said. "I got impatient. I didn't think things would ever change with you, so I agreed to try this with Nicole, but I should've waited. I was so stupid, thinking that something, anything, was better than waiting for what I really wanted. I thought I could force myself to change the way I felt. Biggest mistake I ever – No. That's not true. Biggest mistake I ever made was not asking you out the first day you came in and pestered me for coffee."

"There's no way you've liked me for that long," she insisted.

He grinned. "Someday I'll show you the proof," he said lightly, "but for now, just believe me. You've had me under your spell for a long, long time."

She grinned at him too, letting her fingers intertwine with his, enjoying the freedom of being able to touch him and the joy of him wanting to touch her back.

The door to the house suddenly opened, and muted light from inside spilled out over the lawn. Jackson leaned out of the doorway, searching for her.

"Oh, there you are. Everything OK?" He paused while his eyes adjusted enough to tell who was sitting on the glider with her. "Hey, Luke."

"Jackson. How are you holding up?"

"So far, so good. Lorelai's got my back."

Lorelai just laughed, but Luke answered him seriously. "Well, then, if that's the case, you'll be fine."

Warmth washed over her at Luke's words, and she had to swallow hard before she spoke. "I'll be back inside in just a minute, Jackson."

Jackson waved his hand in acknowledgement and shut the door behind him, leaving them once again alone. In the dark. Together.

Nerves suddenly attacked Lorelai, and she stood up quickly. "So, I guess…I guess I should get back inside," she mumbled.

"You'll be at the diner tomorrow, right?" he questioned, worried that he hadn't completely convinced her.

"Sometime. Not sure when." She motioned at the house. "Might be late tomorrow."

"That's fine. Any time's fine," he confirmed, standing up as well. "Hey, why don't you call me?"

"Call you?"

"Yeah. Let me know how things went with the baby and all." He tried to sound nonchalant but Lorelai smirked at him knowingly, and he finally looked down at the ground in defeat, shaking his head. "Maybe I just want you to call so I can hear your voice."

When he looked up he could see her dazzling smile, even in the dim light. "I can do that," she said, softly, sounding pleased. With one last sigh of contentment she started to turn away.

"You know how much I want to kiss you right now, don't you?" The pleading note in his voice stopped her cold.

"Really, really badly?" she asked, not turning around.

"Add about a thousand 'reallys' to that," he said gruffly. "The thing is, though, I don't want to look back on our first kiss and remember all the stuff Nicole and I just said to each other. Do you…can you understand what I mean?"

"Yeah, I understand," she said gently, already feeling that they were growing into the couple they were going to be. "It's OK. We can wait," she reassured him.

"Good," he muttered, with evident relief.

"Hey, Luke?" she asked hesitantly, still not moving towards the house. "How do you feel about hugging?"

"I think hugging's quite acceptable between friends," he said solemnly. "We've hugged before," he pointed out.

"Yes, we have," she agreed. She turned back to him and opened her arms, smiling beautifully.

With a warm smile of his own he took a step closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hands instantly linked around his neck. They pressed together gratefully, with low murmurs of contentment. Soon, however, his hands began rubbing her lower back and her fingers began playing with the curls on his neck, and the feeling of contentment was losing the battle to something hot and hungry.

Lorelai nuzzled her face into his neck and tried to pull herself together enough to speak. "One of us needs to take a step back here, because otherwise this platonic friendship thing we're trying to maintain is going to get all shot to hell, 90 days or no 90 days."

Luke wrenched his hands up to her shoulders and pushed himself away. "You're right," he agreed, his voice deep with desire. He touched his forehead against hers for a moment before he straightened up and stepped back, putting distance between them.

Lorelai tried to catch her breath, because even that innocent gesture of his had rocked her world.

"I'll call you," she finally managed to say, and headed for the house.

Just as she reached the steps, she turned back. He was still standing by the glider, watching her.

"Hey, you know what's great about this whole thing?" she asked him, that saucy grin of hers breaking free.

He could think of probably a million things, but he just shook his head, smiling at her.

"We already have a song!" She pressed the button on the baby pager, letting the notes of 'The Entertainer' echo through the darkness again as she danced her way into the house, secure in the knowledge that he was watching her.

Epilogue

Davey Belleville was born, with a thatch of auburn hair and the appropriate number of fingers and toes. Luke gladly got ink on his fingers and watched with relief as the legal papers started their journey through the postal system. Rory reluctantly put Marty into the 'Platonic―for now' category, with a hopeful look at the example set by her mother and their long-term favorite diner guy. Taylor added a page to "The Concise History of Stars Hollow" journal he updated religiously, detailing his triumph over Hank, the Taylor Doose of Woodbury. Lorelai came into the diner every day, teasing and flirting with Luke on a whole new level, and sometimes so overcome with the knowledge of what he truly meant to her that she could only look at him and smile.

Life moved on, the days and weeks ticking away.

Some days were sweet, because with that huge secret barrier torn away between them, Luke and Lorelai found that they could be better friends than ever. Luke laughed more. Lorelai listened more. Their happy blue eyes would meet, and they would shake their heads over their unbelievable good fortune.

One day they each took time off from their businesses and Lorelai took Luke to Yale. They met Rory and Marty for lunch, and Rory was thrilled to show Luke all over the campus as he glowed with pride. Lorelai did indeed adore Marty. Even Luke had to grudgingly admit that he was an "OK guy."

That was a really good day.

On the other hand, some days were sour because the strain of being an almost-but-not-quite-couple was too trying. The physical urge that had always existed between them was now so strong that it was practically visible to the naked eye. Some days the effort it took to move past the desire resulted in snipes and jabs, rants and pouts, with so many angry words hurled about that they would come up for air and be shocked to discover that the diner patrons had cleared out, fearing for their lives.

The worst was an attempt at a movie night at Lorelai's. Luke stormed out of her house, slamming the door so hard it was a miracle the frosted glass didn't shatter. Lorelai cried herself to sleep.

That was a bad day.

The next morning they met halfway between the diner and the Crapshack. Luke had been hurrying over to apologize. Lorelai was headed towards the diner with the same purpose. They laughed and hugged and said "I'm sorry" and promised to be more cautious in how they chose to spend time together.

They held hands as they walked to the diner, where Luke made her chocolate chip pancakes with double the amount of chips he usually used. (Since no one else was in the diner yet, he also sprayed a whipped cream heart on top of the stack.)

From then on they went out to movies or to dinner together, or they spent time together with other people, like Sookie and Jackson. Alone time inside enclosed spaces didn't happen.

Sometimes they spent evenings over at the Belleville's, where Lorelai would hold the baby and Luke would cook dinner while the exhausted new parents caught a much-needed nap. Afterwards, Luke would walk Lorelai home, and from that a routine was built. Once the diner was closed, Luke would come to Lorelai's and they'd go for a quick walk, holding hands and catching up on their days. Luke would say goodnight and wait at the end of the driveway until she slipped through the door, catching the kiss she'd blow to him.

And then, one day, when Davey Belleville was twelve weeks old, there was a knock on the door of the Crapshack.

It was nearly 11 o'clock in the morning, and although Lorelai had showered, she was wearing old sweats and a stretched-out hoodie, preparing for a long day of work on Dragonfly plans. She opened the door, grateful for a reprieve from the hard work strewn across her living room. What she beheld when she opened the door took her breath away.

There he stood in his black suit, wearing a cornflower shirt and an even deeper blue tie, nicely groomed, and minus the hat. An ever-increasing smug smile grew on his handsome face as it took her longer and longer to collect her wits.

"Wow," she finally said faintly.

"Here I am, all GQ'ed up, just the way you like, right?"

"I like you any way," she pointed out, feeling incredibly underdressed.

Luke held out a beautiful bouquet of autumn-colored lilies, with several yellow roses scattered amongst them. "For you," he stated. "I know you're not the most patient person, so thank you for waiting."

"These are gorgeous, Luke."

"And, this is for you, too." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out some papers.

Her heart was beating so fast. She scanned them and confirmed they were what she expected. She looked at him with a quivery smile.

"It's over," he said simply. "If you still want me, I'm yours."

She pretended to think it over. "Well," she drawled out, "the flowers are awfully pretty." She let her eyes rake over him again, greedily. "You're pretty, too," she cooed. "Yeah, I think I'm still interested."

"Good. Then go put the flowers in some water and get dressed. We've got plans," he ordered.

"We do?" Her eyebrows rose as she headed for the kitchen to find a vase. "What?"

"Not telling." He grinned.

Remarkably, within twenty minutes, Lorelai was downstairs, ready to go in a short black dress with long sleeves, high heels, and her hair tamed enough to be seen in public. Years of observation had led her to believe that Luke would appreciate the short skirt and high heels.

He did.

They held hands in the truck unless Luke needed both of his on the wheel. He had expected Lorelai to fuss with the radio and launch into one of her nonstop monologues, alternately harassing and charming him, but instead they just talked like the old friends that they were. She did try to pester him to tell her where they were going, but eventually she deduced they were heading to Boston, and she held her tongue after that. As they reached the city proper, Luke handed her his hand-written directions, and she helped him look for street signs. Finally he pulled into a parking garage.

"So this is it, huh? We're here? This is the big secret place you're taking me?" She couldn't believe that Luke, of all people, was taking her to an art museum.

He just kept smiling – a good look on him, by the way – and squeezing her hand. He bought their tickets and they entered, with Lorelai still completely mystified and wondering if she knew this man as well as she thought.

They wandered from gallery to gallery, with Lorelai doing a running commentary on both the pieces of art and the assortment of patrons in attendance. It didn't take very long before she realized why they were there, but she kept it to herself, and the only thing that gave it away was an even brighter smile on her pretty face.

Finally Luke pulled her down a walkway to a special exhibit. An attendant scanned their tickets and they entered a dark room where spotlights glowed down onto the selected works of art, making them dazzle like jewels. They paused in admiration in front of several of them, and finally they came to stand in front of the one.

Luke stepped behind Lorelai, pulling her back to rest against him. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

For several minutes they studied "The Dance at Bougival."

"So," Lorelai whispered, her happiness almost tangible, "you brought us to see our picture."

"It seemed appropriate," Luke said softly.

"You brought us all the way to Boston to see our picture."

"Yep."

Lorelai cast a critical eye over the painting. "We were cuter."

"We were certainly louder."

Lorelai laughed, then snuggled more into his embrace. "Luke, this was an incredibly romantic thing to do."

In response, he moved his head just enough to kiss her neck below her earlobe, gently and secretly.

She went perfectly still, not even breathing. She turned to him solemnly, her eyes huge.

"What?" he asked nervously, wondering if he'd broken some sort of art museum protocol that was going to get them tossed out in the street.

She gulped in some air then, and grabbing his hand, took off down the hallway, trotting much faster in her high heels than he would have thought possible.

"What is it?" he asked, still worried, when she paused.

Lorelai opened a door to a room that obviously was used for lectures, but it was dark and empty today. She pulled him in and shut the door. She ran her hands tenderly over his face before latching them behind his head and drawing him over to meet her.

"Oh!" he had time to say, as realization dawned, as his mouth met hers. "Finally," he breathed, leaning back against the door and pulling her up against him.

For several long minutes they attempted to slake the need they'd felt for so long, but soon found that the need was growing exponentially.

Luke managed to find an ounce of willpower and pushed her away. "I'm not doing this in the middle of the Boston Metropolitan Museum of Art," he said insistently.

"Right, right," Lorelai gasped, trying to somehow get herself under control. "You just – you feel so good," she purred, kissing him along his jaw.

"Lorelai, I'm serious!" He held her away from him at arm's length, but his thumbs couldn't keep from rubbing a spot where they rested on her shoulders, causing her to whimper a little bit and close her eyes. He swallowed hard, wondering how wedded he truly was to this ridiculous 'no sex in the art museum' thing.

Suddenly her eyes popped open. "When do you have to be back?"

"Didn't really set a time," he muttered, still caught up in his desire of her.

"Do you have to open?"

As he started to see where she was going with this, his head started to shake. "That's not why I brought you here."

"I know that! But Luke, we are here. We're in Boston, far, far away from all of the Stars Hollow Gossip Brigade, and I bet they have some really nice hotels here." She watched as a flicker of pure want washed over his face. "Please? I know this wasn't your intention, but we've either been waiting 90 days or seven years, depending on when you want to start counting."

He looked away for a moment, and she waited, prepared to hear him say they couldn't stay, or it was too soon, or some other perfectly sensible reason. Instead, he turned to look at her with a lopsided grin and pushed his fingers under her curls, pulling her to him for a long, sweet kiss.

With a sigh, he held out his hand. "Give me your phone, and I'll call Caesar."

She was sure fireworks were shooting out of the top of her head. "We're staying?" she asked, thrilled, as she scrambled for her phone.

"Maybe for a week," he teased, flipping open the phone.

"I can't stay for a week," Lorelai said regretfully. "No clothes."

Luke gave her a wink as he pushed in the diner's number. "That works for me just fine."

"Me, too," Lorelai grinned, and covered his face with kisses the whole time he was trying to talk to Caesar.

Epilogue-ier

Christmas was six days away. Rory would be home tomorrow. Tonight they'd arranged a holiday gathering for the old Independence Inn staff, hosted by Lorelai and Sookie. It had been a lighthearted, fun-filled night, as old memories were relived and hearts looked hopefully towards the future. Even Michel had been pleasant.

Luke thought that Lorelai looked gorgeous. This wasn't a new thought for him. He always thought she looked gorgeous. Tonight she had on a red dress, and even though red wasn't his favorite color on her, she looked stunning in it, accessorized as it was with a pair of shiny gold high heels and a red ribbon tied around her neck. The ribbon reminded him of the red bow on the bonnet from their picture, and his fingers itched to untie it.

Lorelai had gone into the kitchen to fix them some tea, and he set to work lighting a fire. She'd capitulated easily into accepting tea instead of coffee as a nighttime ritual, and Luke was foolishly allowing himself to believe that meant there was hope that he could eventually adjust the rest of her diet.

Silly man.

Luke settled himself into a corner of the couch and watched the fire crackle into life. Lorelai soon arrived with the mugs of tea. She kicked off her heels, and eagerly curled up on the couch next to him as soon as she set the mugs down on the coffee table. She burrowed her arms around him.

"Mmm, you look so good," she murmured, next to his ear.

He wasn't dressed very fancy; just a thick hunter green sweater and some dark jeans, but this was at least the third time she'd mentioned his appearance. "You look good, too," he told her, kissing her cheek. "You look like a Christmas present."

Lorelai waggled her eyebrows. "You want to unwrap me?"

"You bet," he whispered into her ear, "but not right now."

She pouted.

"I was wondering if it'd be OK if I gave you one of your Christmas presents early?"

"Why, Santa –" she started to drawl, suggestively.

"Don't make this dirty!" he warned her sternly.

"No dirty," she agreed, smiling sweetly. "But just for future reference, the answer to that question is always yes!"

Luke leaned over and pulled a wrapped box out from under the couch.

"You just gave away one of your hiding places," she said smugly.

"It was just a temporary location," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

Lorelai, as usual, was beyond excited at getting to open up a gift. She tore off the paper and took in the richness of the red leather box now visible. She looked into his eyes for a moment before slipping her finger under the magnetic latch and opening the cover.

"Oh, Luke!" she breathed out.

Inside was a porcelain miniature of Renoir's "Dance at Bougival." A tiny easel was tucked in beside it.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him happily. "Where did you ever find such a thing? It's perfect! I love it so much!" She jumped up and made room amongst the Christmas cards on the mantel to display it.

When she didn't come back right away he got up to join her. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him the way he did that afternoon in Boston. The thought of that afternoon in Boston always made him smile. A lot.

"Look," Lorelai said, delighted, pointing at the picture, "there's tiny little you, and tiny little me. Now we'll always have a reminder of how, once again, you came to my rescue."

"And you tried to talk me out of it," he reminded her, nuzzling her neck.

"Only because I didn't trust myself," she sighed. "You're so irresistible, Mr. Danes." She turned in his arms, leaning against him in order to give him a long kiss. "Thank you, Luke," she said, softly and seriously. "Thanks for that," she said, motioning towards the picture, "and thanks for this," she said sincerely, hugging him tightly.

"You're welcome," he whispered into her ear. He tugged her back to the couch and they settled back into their spots contentedly, watching the fire and sharing some kisses along with the tea.

Luke smiled in satisfaction, watching the flames flare up. His fingers slipped through Lorelai's curls, and his thoughts drifted to the two other miniature paintings he'd ordered from the museum's gift catalog.

One was entitled "The Seamstress," a pretty Victorian girl with glossy dark hair, busily sewing her wedding gown. Luke planned to give it to Lorelai sometime in the spring, maybe after she'd gotten the Dragonfly up and running. The other painting was by an artist named Mary Cassatt, and he'd had a hard time making up his mind on which one to purchase, since so many of her portraits consisted of dark-haired women and sleepy babies. But finally he'd decided and placed the order, and now those gifts were tucked away in the safe, just waiting for some day in the future when he'd need them. He liked knowing that he had a plan, that preparations were in order, that things were ready to go.

Smiling, he closed his eyes and snuggled Lorelai against him, imagining the day when she'd insist that "The Entertainer" would be the first song they danced to at their wedding.

Because after all, it was their song.