A/N: Thanks for all your support on this story, thanks to everyone who organized the ficathon, and thanks to my beta R.M. Jackson for sending me home on the right train this weekend so I could write this and she could beta it. I want to just say that I am plowing my way through this fic, but I'm moving 950 miles away from home on Friday and I'll be on the road until Sunday night. The internet at my current home will be disconnected tomorrow and my new home's internet should be hooked up Monday. I'm almost done with this one and I'm HOPING I can get it posted by the deadline... we shall see. So, on with the chapter!

It was a lazy Saturday morning. Lorelai saw the sun peeking through her curtains, but chose to go back to sleep. Her alarm clock would wake her up later. Did she even set it? Oh, well, no turning back now. She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes. She had fallen asleep and was in the middle of a dream when Rory started calling her. "Mom!"

Lorelai groaned at the sound of Rory's voice from downstairs. She put her head underneath the pillow and tried to ignore her. It was definitely early in the morning, so why did she need to get up? She tried to think of a pressing matter that required her attention at such an early hour. She couldn't think of anything except meeting Luke at the practice field later in the day. She closed her eyes once again, pulling her head out from underneath the pillow.

"Seriously, Mom, we have to get ready!"

She mumbled something unintelligible as she opened one eye to look at the clock. The red numbers blurred together, and Lorelai decided to shut her eyes once more. After all, Rory was probably just getting antsy to practice. She pulled the covers up over her shoulders, shoved her arm underneath the pillow, and started to drift off once again.

Lorelai was almost asleep when she felt the sheets fly off of her. She shot up, bleary eyed, staring questioningly at the perpetrator. "God, Rory, I was trying to sleep! I was having a dream that the Bangles were in town and I got a backstage pass."

"You were trying to sleep at one in the afternoon?" Rory asked, crossing her arms.

Flopping back onto the pillows, Lorelai let out a groan. "Too early, give me the covers."

"Nope," Rory insisted. "Get up. We have to be at the field at two!"

"Why did I agree to this?" Lorelai asked, sitting up on the bed and stretching her arms above her head.

Rory plopped herself on the bed next to her mother, startling her out of her foggy state. "First of all, two is not too early. Second, you didn't agree to it, but you basically set yourself up for it. I mean, you asked Luke to help me. You think you wouldn't get involved somehow?"

"Well, golf is sounding better and better right about now. Mommy gets to sleep while Rory's mind is full of golf terminology," Lorelai said, lazily swinging a pillow in Rory's direction.

Rory giggled, taking the pillow from Lorelai's hands. "That was the most lifeless attempt at starting a pillow fight ever. Seriously, that was the worst first pillow swing I've seen in my entire life."

"You'd better hope that your baseball skills are better than my pillow fighting skills; you're getting graded on this," Lorelai pointed out as she pulled herself off the bed and trudged over to the dresser.

"I hope anything I do is better than your pillow fighting skills. That was pathetic. Sports and all competition aside, that was terrible."

"Rub it in some more, why don't you?"

"I will, thanks for the invitation," Rory said.

Lorelai reached into the dresser drawer and pulled out a red tank top with the tag still on it. She held it up for Rory to examine. She tossed it over to her daughter, and began the search for the rest of her outfit. "God, I need coffee to remember where I put this stupid thing."

"What stupid thing?" Rory asked, glancing at the tag attached to the tank top. "Whoa, there, woman. Five dollars? That's IT?"

"Clearance rack," Lorelai said with a smile. "And you'll see what I'm looking for when I find it."

Rory folded the tank top in her lap. "Seriously, Mom, what are you looking for?"

"Patience, grasshopper," Lorelai said, taking out shirt after shirt from the drawer and placing them on top of the dresser. Soon, the neat piles became messy mounds of clothes. She kicked the discarded shirts out of the way and sat on the floor, pulling out the bottom drawer. She dug through the folded piles of shirts and groaned. Finally, she squealed as she pulled out the missing item from the drawer.

"Did you find it?"

"No, I'm just a magician and I made this Red Sox jersey poof out of nowhere."

Rory raised her eyebrows. "Mom, that's like, three sizes too small."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "It is not," she said, retrieving the tank top from Rory's outstretched hand and walking over to her closet. "It's a size below what I'd normally get, but it was cheaper. It still fits."

"You're going to wear that? It's supposed to be freezing today," Rory said.

Shrugging, Lorelai pulled out a pair of jeans from the closet. "Oh well, we'll be working up a sweat when we're running and hitting and… doing other things that baseball players do?"

Rory slid off the bed and dodged the piles of clothes on the floor. "Whatever you say. When Luke asks you what the hell you're wearing, I'll let you take it away."

"Thank you, Mr. Blackwell, I'm so honored to make your 'worst dressed' list," Lorelai said, slipping into the bathroom. She shut the door and cringed when she looked at herself in the mirror. To look halfway decent, she'd need a cup of coffee. To look remotely awake, she'd need three. If she wanted to look amazing, she'd need a fifth cup. She slipped the tank top on and pulled the jersey over her shoulders. After putting on her jeans, brushing out her hair, and putting on some makeup, she deemed herself halfway decent without the coffee quota.

She slipped on a pair of red pumps, walked down the stairs, and breathed a sigh of relief. She could smell the coffee brewing, and it was perking her up. Reaching for a mug in the cabinet, she heard snickering behind her. Lorelai turned around to see Rory with her hand covering her mouth.

"I knew you were wearing that, but somehow the image couldn't form in my brain. Seeing it on you is… priceless," Rory teased.

"I look adorable," Lorelai said with a pout. "Why, do you think it's an ugly outfit? I think it's fantastic."

Rory motioned to Lorelai's jersey. "You look like you're trying to distract the baseball players, not blend in with them."

"Meaning?"

"What if a baseball hits you in the boob?"

Lorelai snorted. "Please. It's not that revealing. It's cute, I'm comfortable, and I look fantastic."

"Whatever you say," Rory said, a skeptical tone in her voice.

The coffee pot beeped and Lorelai reached for the pot as fast as she could. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she grinned ear to ear at Rory's reaction. "I don't get why you're so bent out of shape about this outfit."

Rory rolled her eyes. "What, did I offend you, Sleeping Beauty?"

"Ooh, we're testy today, aren't we? Someone's got her panties in a twist, and it's certainly not me," Lorelai teased.

"Sorry, I'm just really nervous about this," Rory said, sitting at the kitchen table and wringing her hands together. "I mean, if I fail this class, it's kind of a big deal."

Lorelai took a sip of coffee and seated herself next to Rory. "If you screw up this little mini session, we'll get Mrs. Kim on the case."

Rory let out a small giggle and looked up at Lorelai. "Thanks," she said, smiling.

"You're welcome," Lorelai said, patting Rory's hand. "Let's head over to the field, shall we?"

Rory nodded. "We shall."

The two walked to the softball field in the surprisingly warm New England fall. Lorelai reveled in the inner glory of choosing a cute outfit while Rory ranted about what her future in sports would be like. Lorelai sipped the coffee in her to go mug as the two waited on the bleachers for Luke to show up. Lorelai was listening to Rory, who was in the middle of another rant, when she heard the chain link fence behind her rattle. She jumped, put her hand over her heart, and turned around. "God, Luke, you scared the hell out of me."

"You're late," he grumbled.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Can we get on with the show, please? I have to be at the inn today for the dress rehearsal of this stupid wedding."

"And you want to be at the inn for this 'stupid wedding'?" Luke asked.

Putting her travel mug beside her on the bleachers, Lorelai thought for a moment. "Okay, you've got a point there."

"You're going to run in those?" Luke asked, walking around the fence and pointing to Lorelai's shoes with his baseball bat outstretched.

"I'm a very gifted athlete," Lorelai replied, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Where's all the equipment?" Rory asked, interrupting the banter.

Luke pointed to the empty softball field. "I have it all set up out there. Get in the batter's box, and I'll show you the basics first."

Rory and Lorelai stared blankly at Luke. He took off his baseball cap, scratched his head, and put the cap back on, letting out a frustrated sigh. He gripped the baseball bat in his hands tighter as he stared back. "I forgot," he muttered. "You two know nothing about the sport. Follow me."

Lorelai clutched her coffee mug as she and Rory followed Luke to home plate. She watched as Luke kicked the dirt around for a few minutes, brushing his work boot across the plate until it was relatively clean. He handed Rory a baseball bat and dug his toe into the dirt.

"Housekeeping?" Lorelai teased.

Luke glared back at her. "I'm making the batter's box. When you go up to bat, you have to stay inside the batter's box until you hit the ball out there somewhere," he said, motioning to the empty field.

"Okay," Rory said, placing the bat on the ground and letting it lean against the side of her leg. It fell onto the ground and she sighed, leaning over to pick it up as Luke continued his home plate maintenance.

Lorelai laughed at the sight. Rory's bat wouldn't stay put, and Luke was a perfectionist when it came to the dirt around home plate. She leaned up against the fence and giggled as Luke snatched the baseball bat off the ground and stuck it in the fence, letting it hang by its handle.

"When you're not using the bat, keep it in there if you're not holding it," Luke insisted. "It's going to fall on your toe one day and it will hurt. It's a wood bat, you know."

Rory nodded. She watched intently as Luke finished kicking the dirt around. He motioned toward the fence and Rory retrieved the bat. She walked over to home plate and stepped inside the square Luke made around the plate.

"Get over here," Luke insisted, staring at Lorelai.

"I just got comfortable, too," she muttered, walking over to the plate.

Luke put his hands on Rory's shoulders, giving her a gentle push toward the plate. "Make sure your feet are shoulder width apart. But stay inside the batter's box here."

Rory attempted the stance, making Lorelai giggle. She shot Lorelai a glare, and looked to Luke for approval. "How's that?"

"Bring your feet in a little more," Luke instructed, nodding as Rory dragged her left foot closer to her right.

"Much better," Luke said. "Now the pitcher's going to be right there. See that giant circle right in front of you?"

Rory shook her head. "I see the bench," she said, staring directly in front of her.

"Turn your head when you're batting," Luke said. "No, don't move anything else, just your head. Look out there."

"Oh," Rory said, giggling slightly at her momentary misunderstanding. "Yeah, I see the circle."

"That's where the pitcher is going to be. They're going to throw the ball, and it's going to come over here in some general direction. Now you're going to want to swing at it if it's anywhere between your shoulders and your knees," he explained. "But only if it's over the plate."

"Over the plate, between the shoulders and the knees, got it."

"If the ball crosses the plate between here and here," Luke said touching his shoulder and his knee, "it's a strike. If it's anywhere else, like over your head, on the ground, or outside or inside the plate, that's called a ball."

"Is a ball good?" Rory asked. "Or is a strike good?"

"Balls are good," Luke started. He couldn't get a word in edgewise before Lorelai started hysterically laughing.

"Dirty," she squeaked, trying to catch her breath. "You… Luke… said… you… you said… that balls were good."

Luke rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He turned to Rory, ignoring Lorelai's random outburst, and continued his explanation. "Balls are good…" Lorelai burst out laughing again, and Luke sighed. "Is there a time where I'm going to be able to say the word 'balls' today without you reading into it?"

She was laughing so hard that she couldn't finish her sentence. Luke turned his attention to Rory once again. Rory immediately stopped giggling, but failed to remain serious as she turned red and giggled some more.

"Both of you are hopeless," Luke insisted, shaking his head. "Balls are good, but strikes are good, too. It depends. If you're batting, balls are better than strikes. If you're in the field, you want strikes. If you swing and miss at a ball, it's a strike. If you swing, hit the ball, and it goes anywhere behind these white lines, then it's a strike."

"And it's three strikes and you're out?" Rory asked, collecting herself and clearing her throat. "I think?"

Luke shrugged. "Yes, and no. Yes, if you swing and miss. Yes, if you don't swing and it crossed the plate in between your shoulders and your knees. If you have two strikes, you swing, and you make contact, it has to be caught by the catcher in order for it to be an out."

"The catcher?" Rory asked.

Luke walked behind the plate. "The catcher crouches down behind the plate, right here. They catch the ball that the pitcher throws."

"So, only this person can catch the ball if she has two strikes?" Lorelai asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes, and no," Luke started.

"Wow, baseball is a game full of contradictions, isn't it?" Lorelai teased, sipping the last of her coffee. "All you keep saying is 'yes and no,' but it can't be both."

He sighed, crossing his arms and walking around the plate, taking his original spot back. "Well, it depends on the situation."

"So I guess this means I have a lot of catching up to do on these situations," Rory mused aloud, digging the end of the baseball bat in the dirt.

"It would be to your benefit," he said with a nod.

Lorelai nodded emphatically and smiled. "Yeah, you tell her, Luke."

"Are you the one learning here?" Luke asked.

"Well, I was knocked out, dragged here against my will, and tied up with duct tape and rope until you saved me from my cliché movie assailants," she answered. "In other words, yes, I am."

He threw his hands in the air out of frustration. "Follow me," he barked to Rory.

She dropped the baseball bat and jogged after Luke, who had gotten a head start in walking down to first base. Lorelai followed behind, walking toward the pair at her own pace. She continued walking until she saw Luke stop at a corner of the infield.

"So what's this?" Lorelai blurted out, looking at the dirt on the ground.

"This is first base. When you hit the ball, and it goes anywhere between this line, and this line, it's a fair ball," he explained, pointing to the white chalk line by his foot, and its counterpart across the field. "You have to put your bat down and run to first base."

Lorelai nodded. "And I'm guessing that's second, third, and fourth?"

"There is no fourth," Luke answered.

"Why?"

"It's called home plate."

"Why not fourth?"

"Because you start and end there, so it's home."

Lorelai groaned. "But why can't they call it first-slash-fifth?"

"Because normal people would be confused by your screwed up logic," Luke shot back, obviously irritated. "Home, first, second, third, home. That's how it goes, that's what we're calling them, and if you give them names, I'm going to drive you home and teach Rory what she needs to know."

"Fine," Lorelai said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "I won't try to make a boring sport amusing at all."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Rory, if you're at bat and you hit the ball between those lines, you run to first. If one of the guys in the field throws it to the person standing here, and they get it here before you do, then you're out."

"Of the game?"

"No, not of the game, just for that particular at bat," Luke said. "But if you make it there before, you're safe. And you stay on first base until someone else hits the ball."

"I have a question," Lorelai said, raising her hand.

"What now?" Luke barked.

"What happens if the players get hungry while they're, say, practicing, or playing the game, or what if they have to, you know, use the bathroom?"

"Are you hinting at something?"

"Maybe," she said with a smile.

"You seriously didn't use the bathroom before you left the house?"

She shrugged. "My mother never taught me that, and I switched nannies so often they weren't sure what I had and hadn't learned…"

"Oh, for the love of God, let's go to the diner so I can feed you and shut you up," Luke said, gathering any equipment that was lying around and putting it in the back of his truck.

"Are you my chauffeur? If you are, can you roll down the windows so I can stick my head out and wave to my adoring fans? They haven't seen me in awhile," Lorelai said.

Luke shook his head. "Nope, we're walking. "

"Darn," Lorelai said, turning to Rory. "I thought I had him fooled."

"So, Rory, if you hit the ball farther than the dirt, and it gets on the grass, sometimes you can run farther than just first base. There's going to be a coach there who will tell you what to do. Just make sure you listen to them," Luke said, choosing to ignore Lorelai and continue the educational part of the day.

Rory nodded. "Okay. So, what happens next? I get the really basic idea."

"Uh, well, I guess you take some batting practice," Luke said. "I mean, unless you have another idea."

Rory shook her head. "No, you're the expert," she said. "Whatever you think is best is fine with me."

Lorelai walked faster, trying to catch up with Rory and Luke. Her heels were preventing her from running, but she was able to squeeze her way in between the two. "Hey, what am I, chopped liver?"

"Last time I checked, Rory's the one who's getting graded on this assignment," Luke insisted.

She nodded. "You have a point, there, but I'm wondering what I can do to help."

"Well, that's the most useful thing you've said since we got to the field."

"That's me, lending a helping hand to all who need it," Lorelai said.

Luke rolled his eyes and opened the door to the diner. "We'll figure out something for you to do."

Lorelai clapped her hands together in excitement, following Luke into the diner. She cringed when she saw the amount of people waiting to be served. Looking around for a table, she sighed. They would have to wait a long time before they were even thought of.

As Luke disappeared into the kitchen, Lorelai turned to her daughter. "So what do you think of the baseball thing so far?"

"It's okay," Rory said softly, taking off her old sweatshirt and folding it up in her hands as she moved away from the door.

"Sounds complicated to me," Lorelai continued.

Rory shrugged. "I guess so."

"Hey, you're sour grapes today, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine."

"Okay, then," Lorelai said under her breath. "If you see a table, just run for it."

"I will," Rory replied.

Luke came up behind Lorelai, startling her as he put his hand on her shoulder to gently push her out of the way. She shivered. He had nice, strong hands. She'd never noticed his hands before then. Why was that?

She rolled her eyes at herself. She was being stupid. So, Luke had nice hands. Big deal. She turned to face him and watched as he carried several coffee mugs and a coffee pot in his hands. "That's exactly what I need," she said, smiling as she watched him pour her beloved coffee for several customers.

Lorelai listened to a conversation going on nearby about how long it was taking for the food to be served. She nonchalantly turned, trying not to act like she was obviously listening in. She caught only bits and pieces of the conversation, but what she did hear was that the people were angry that their food still hadn't been served.

"Look," Luke said, walking behind the counter as he addressed Lorelai and Rory. "I'm going to have to cut the lesson short for today, is that okay? It was cooling down anyway and I think it was supposed to rain. Can we pick it up tomorrow afternoon?"

Rory nodded. "No problem."

"I'm really sorry, I just don't want Taylor giving me hell at the next town meeting for not being around to check up on the diner. He makes me want to wring his neck as it is."

"Yeah, sure, we'll see you tomorrow," Lorelai said, turning to the door and walking out of the diner. She shivered as the wind blew outside. Luke was right; it had gotten about ten degrees cooler in the short time between their on the field lesson and the trip back home.

"Sucks that Luke's was so busy," Rory said as the two started the walk back. "They all looked upset, and Luke looked frazzled."

"It was really busy today," Lorelai agreed. "I wonder what good food and coffee we're missing. Woe is me, I didn't get a seat and I'm missing what everyone else so clearly enjoying."

"You'll survive."

"Yeah, right."

"I'll bet they told Gloria Gaynor the same thing, and when she finally realized it, she decided to give the same advice to everyone else," Rory insisted, pulling at the zipper on her sweatshirt.

"I should have told Luke to meet us at four tomorrow," Lorelai groaned.

"Again, Gloria Gaynor has some great advice for you, I'd listen to her," Rory said, walking up the porch stairs to the door of the Crap Shack. "I'm going to change."

Lorelai pouted. "I'll bet if she tasted Luke's coffee she'd change her tune."