A/N: I want to thank everyone for their patience on this fic. It's been a super stressful time for me lately, as I just moved to Tennessee. My muse went into hiding for awhile, and we didn't have internet for awhile, but now I'm back! Thanks to R.M. Jackson for complimenting my polka dotted shower curtains enough times to make me feel better so I could write this. Oh, yeah, and she was a pretty awesome beta, too. I don't own any dialogue from "Kill Me Now" that's used here. Keep reading, one more chapter until the moment a lot of you are waiting for!

Lorelai slipped out of her practice attire and into a t-shirt and sweatpants. She hadn't attempted any physical activity, but her brain was exhausted. She walked downstairs, grabbed a magazine, and headed for the porch. The rain had stopped and Lorelai grinned as she stepped outside. The one smell she loved besides the smell of coffee and the smell of snow was the smell right after it rained. Rory was already on the porch, totally engrossed in a book.

"Did you clear out the room in your brain for that? Because someday I worry that you're going to run out of space up there with everything you're learning. You just had this really intense baseball lesson and now here you are, shoving more knowledge into that pretty little head of yours. I fear that someday it will explode and I'll be wondering how to get Rory gunk off the floor," she teased, sitting across from Rory on the porch.

Rory smiled. "I took all the steps necessary to prevent an explosion. I got rid of all my files that contain anything related to you and gifts you want for holidays and birthdays."

"You wouldn't," Lorelai gasped.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," Rory said, opening her book and turning her attention to the marked page.

Lorelai turned her attention to the magazine and thought back to earlier in the day when she and Rory were on the field. Rory seemed nervous or upset about something. Was it her outfit? Lorelai recalled some tension earlier in the day regarding the choice of clothing. Taking a deep breath, she absently flipped through the magazine until she looked up at Rory. She was determined to figure out what was wrong. "Is everything okay with you?"

Rory raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Lorelai shrugged. "You just seem upset about this whole sports thing. Are you sure you're okay? If you're not…"

"I'm fine," Rory replied defensively. "Why do you keep asking me if I'm okay?"

"You just seem upset, that's all," Lorelai explained. "I was concerned."

Rory looked up from her book, glaring at Lorelai. "I said I was fine, can we drop it?"

"Okay, fine. Is that my sweater?"

"What?"

"You're wearing my sweater," Lorelai said, motioning to the sweater Rory had changed into.

"So?" Rory retorted, her teeth clenched in anger and frustration.

"No, it's okay. It's just I thought I asked you to at least ask, you know, before you borrow my stuff," Lorelai reasoned. She was already agitated that Rory wasn't spilling what was bothering her, and the opportune time to bring up all the rest of her annoyances had come.

"I'm sorry," Rory apologized.

Lorelai could sense her confusion. She could tell that Rory was trying her hardest not to go on with the fight. Regardless, Lorelai wanted to make her point. "It's okay. It's just not too much for a simple 'Can I borrow it, Mom?' is it?"

"No, it's not. Jeez, lighten up," Rory shot back. She went back to her book, trying not to be affected by the argument.

"It's my favorite sweater, too."

Rory snorted. "Since when?"

"Since always," Lorelai replied quickly. It really was her favorite sweater… sort of. Sometimes. It was a nice sweater.

Rory shook her head and crossed her arms. "This is not your favorite sweater."

"Yes it is, and now it's going to be all stretched out just like everything else you borrow."

"What are you talking about?" Rory questioned, her tone becoming slightly less calm and more defensive.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. She could feel the tension building and she wasn't holding back now. She hated arguing with Rory, but she was already going. There was no stopping her. She wanted Rory to see her side of the story, and she didn't care how she had to get it through Rory's head. "I'm talking about that you take my sweaters and you wear them and you stretch them out."

Rory shook her head. "I couldn't possibly stretch them out! Your boobs are way bigger than mine."

"That is not true," Lorelai gasped.

"Yes it is."

"Your boobs are totally bigger than mine!" Lorelai insisted.

"You're crazy!"

"Do you want to measure?" Lorelai quipped.

Rory paused for a moment, taking in what her mother just said. "What?"

"I'm serious. Why don't you get the measuring tape right now?"

"I am not going to measure my boobs," Rory replied, standing up from her seat.

"Because you know that you are totally bigger," Lorelai added.

Rory rolled her eyes and picked up her book. She pushed in the chair on the porch and headed for the door. "I'm going inside."

Lorelai threw her hands in the air. "Fine, don't measure. We'll just compare bras."

"Stop it!" Rory cried, turning around to make sure Lorelai got the point.

"I'll stop when you quit stealing my stuff."

"You're cracked!" Rory yelled.

Lorelai had no response. "You're...bigger," she spat out, watching Rory angrily walk away. She could feel the anger in the pit of her stomach. She put her head in her hands and let out a groan of frustration, trying to figure out what caused the stupid fight they just had. There was only one conclusion she could come to.

"So to sum it all up, it was a nothing fight," Lorelai said the next afternoon at the softball field. Rory was uncharacteristically late for practice, and Lorelai had just finished explaining her theory behind Rory's conspicuous absence to Luke.

"A nothing fight?" he repeated, gripping the bat in his hands and taking a few gentle swings at nothing in particular.

Lorelai sighed. "A nothing fight is when you and the person you're fighting with are getting along fine. Then suddenly someone takes what someone said the wrong way. Then you feel the urge to nitpick. And boom. You've got yourself a nothing fight."

"How is it a nothing fight? You fight about something, it can't be just for the sake of fighting," he insisted, putting the bat down and walking over to the empty bleachers.

"Of course you don't fight just to fight," Lorelai said, rolling her eyes, following him and taking a seat next to him. "You fight because you're stressed, or tired, or angry at someone else. You have nothing against the person you fought with, really, they're just the person you took it out on."

"So could you explain what happened for you to have this so called 'nothing fight' with Rory?"

"Nothing," Lorelai said, taking a sip of the coffee Luke had brought for her. "Absolutely nothing, I can't figure it out. I tried to ask if she was okay, and the next minute we're arguing about who has bigger boobs."

Luke blushed. "Ah, jeez," he grumbled as he took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. "How can nothing happen to cause a 'nothing fight' that has to be caused by something?"

"My thoughts exactly."

"This is hurting my brain," he grumbled.

She smiled as he rolled his eyes. Taking another sip of coffee, she wondered if Rory would ever show up. Sure, Rory was angry with her, but was skipping out on a lesson the way to pay her back? Lorelai shook her head. Surely Rory left her a note somewhere that she missed, or something. Had she already contacted Luke? No, he would have said something. Where was she? Did she have to do something at school? Was there a test? A paper?

Lorelai suddenly felt the need to defend Rory. As angry as she was about the stupid nothing fight, it was completely unlike Rory to not show up somewhere that she was supposed to be. "I'm sorry, about this. You know Rory isn't usually late for something without calling or leaving a note."

He shrugged. "It's fine. I have all day."

"No, you don't have all day. You have a business to run. We can't just sit here all day and wait for her to show up. It's like waiting up for the ball to drop in New York City for the first time as a kid. You watch Dick Clark all night, waiting for this giant glass ball to drop, and you realize at 11:59 that it's sliding down a pole, and it won't break," Lorelai continued.

"That had to be one of the strangest metaphors I've ever heard," he said.

"I'm impatient. I'm running out of brain power to think of any good ones."

"She'll be here."

Lorelai took the last sip of coffee and reached for the to go cup that Luke brought for Rory. "Well, since she's not here now, she forfeits all coffee rights."

"You don't need two cups of coffee to focus today. And aren't you freezing?"

"I wore this yesterday and I wasn't freezing," Lorelai replied, downing some of Rory's coffee.

Luke got off the bleachers. He walked around the fence and picked up his baseball glove. "Get off the bench."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. She took another sip of coffee and crossed her legs, giggling as Luke walked toward the field by himself. She wondered how long it would take him to realize that she wasn't following him.

"Lorelai!"

She put down the coffee cup and made her way toward the field, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She shivered as the wind picked up. It really was cooler than she had anticipated. She met Luke next to home plate and stood beside him, rocking back and forth on her red heels. "Rory's not here yet."

"I'm aware of that," he muttered, putting his hands on Lorelai's shoulders and gently shoving her toward home plate.

"What are you doing? If you're trying to prove that you have super strength, I wouldn't push me around, but maybe a giant boulder or something."

Luke crossed his arms. "You asked a lot of questions yesterday. I figured you were interested in learning too. If you aren't, we can go back to the bleachers and stare at each other until Rory shows up."

Lorelai smiled. "Okay, count me in. I'm ready." She walked over to the fence and grabbed a baseball bat. She stood beside the plate, trying to grip the bat while Luke kicked the dirt around. Watching Luke's specific dirt routine bored Lorelai, so she put the handle of the bat on her chin and attempted to balance it. She groaned and began to run backwards as it toppled over and hit her nose on the way down. "Ow."

"Did you break your ankle?"

"Ha, ha," she retorted, leaning over and retrieving the baseball bat. "I tried to balance it on my chin and it hit the bridge of my nose. Is it a Marcia Brady shade of purple? It has to be, because I swear, it's increasing in size by the millisecond."

Luke rolled his eyes. "You're not bleeding, your nose is not swollen, and you're overreacting. Rule number one, do not attempt to balance the baseball bat in any way."

"Rules are meant to be broken," Lorelai said, holding out her palm and placing the end of the bat there to balance.

Before she could attempt the same stunt again, Luke took the bat from Lorelai's hands, using the handle to draw the lines for the batter's box. "I'll take that."

"You may leave when you snatch the bat from my hands, grasshopper," Lorelai giggled.

"Are you finished?"

She shrugged, wiping her hands on her jeans. "For now. I can't guarantee that I will be for the rest of the day, but for now, sure."

"If you want to learn to play, you're finished," Luke insisted. "Come over here."

Lorelai stood inside the dirt lines that Luke had drawn. She held the bat in her hands, turning to Luke for further instruction. "Am I even in the right spot?"

He shook his head. "You're not even on a side."

"Where am I supposed to be?"

"For starters, you need to be on the side of the plate, not on top of it," Luke explained.

He put his hands on her waist, pulling her toward the side of the plate she was supposed to be on. She giggled and playfully swatted his hands away. "Okay, mister, you were headed for second base there."

"Excuse me?"

"You were totally touching my butt."

"I was not," Luke protested.

"You were, too."

"Okay, enough of the arguing," he insisted, getting defensive and turning red. "Spread your legs."

Lorelai snorted. "You don't expect me to drop the subject after that comment, do you?"

Luke stopped for a moment, staring at Lorelai and taking a deep breath. "Jeez, Lorelai, will you just concentrate on the game?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"I can leave anytime, you know."

"Fine," she pouted, making sure her legs were in the right place. She tried several different stances until she finally got comfortable, grabbing the baseball bat and resting it on her shoulder. "Now what do I do?"

"Your legs need to be shoulder width apart," Luke said. "Your heels are together."

Lorelai groaned, trying to stand in a comfortable spot. "Any better?"

"Okay," Luke said. "That's not as bad as it could be. Now choke up on the bat."

"Huh?" Lorelai asked, raising an eyebrow at Luke.

He stood behind her, reaching over her shoulders and moving her hands until they were in the right spot. "Hold the bat tighter."

Lorelai squeezed the bat until her knuckles turned white. She turned her head to look at Luke. "That hurts my hands."

"Probably because you're literally choking the bat," Luke pointed out. "Loosen up your grip."

She loosened her grip on the bat and turned to face Luke. "Better?"

He sighed, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face the plate. "You got that part right, but screwed everything else up in the process."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely encouraging? That positive attitude is going to get you so far in life," she teased, grinning as she repositioned herself in the batter's box.

"Do you want to try to hit something?"

"As long as I can borrow this to perfect my balancing act. Soon, I'll have those china plates my mother gave me for my birthday last year spinning on top of this baseball bat, and I'll give you a front row seat when the travelling circus I join goes to Hartford."

"I think I'll pass on that," Luke grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. "I get it. You were one of those kids who somehow lost his cotton candy to the elephant at the circus."

"Nope."

"What's your aversion to the circus, then?"

"Again, I can leave at any time."

"Tell me what's wrong with the circus and you'll have my full attention," Lorelai promised.

"The circus is full of freaks, end of discussion."

"Well, jeez, that's quite the stereotype. What on earth makes you think that the circus is full of freaks?"

Luke pressed down on the bill of his baseball cap. "I was four. My mom took me to the circus and there was a clown on a unicycle waiting out front. He put me on his shoulders and we rode around for a second before he fell and I fell along with him. Broke my arm."

"Oh, my God!"

"He was wasted."

"And no one noticed this before you got on his shoulders and took a brief joyride before plummeting to your… I was going to say death, but I can't think of anything else that sounds as dramatic."

"Are you finished?" he asked.

"Am I standing in the right direction?"

"More or less," Luke said with a sigh. "Do you want to take a few swings?"

Lorelai's eyes widened. "Rory didn't even get to do that."

Luke grabbed a bucket of softballs and dragged them toward the pitcher's mound. "She's learning all the rules and the technical stuff. You're just really fascinated with the bat."

"Are you insulting Barry?"

"Barry who?"

"The bat, his name is Barry. Would you please stop insulting him? He and I have a special bond, even though he tried to break my nose," she teased.

He carried the bucket of softballs to about twenty feet away from the plate. He reached in and picked one up, holding it out for Lorelai to see. "I'm going to pitch it underhand."

"Is that good or bad? And why are you so close to me? Shouldn't you stand somewhere out there in Egypt to make it really difficult for me?"

"I'm trying to make it easy for you to hit. If I didn't, all I would hear for the next hour is how hard the game is. Then you'd start whining about how I have to take your shoes and your outfit into consideration, and you just feel so inadequate because you can't hit the baseball and Barry can't do his job. Then you'll tell me this story about how Barry feels unloved, unappreciated, and lonely, and all he wanted to do was his job."

"That's quite a point you make. It was slightly embellished for your own selfish purposes, but you have a point with the rest of it," she said, raising her eyebrows. "That was a little creepy."

"I've known you long enough to know that when you name an inanimate object, it comes with a life history as well," Luke said. "Ready to try?"

"Don't make it go too fast. I have visions of this softball coming at me with a tail of fire swooshing behind it. I run away, fearing that I have to attempt the stop, drop, and roll that I'd avoided doing in those stupid school safety drills every year since kindergarten. Then you feel terrible because I have an imprint of the stitches in that stupid thing on my leg. I'll feel like a branded cow."

"Rest assured, the scenario you just concocted is virtually impossible," he said dryly.

Lorelai cringed. She could tell his patience was diminishing, so she nodded and took a deep breath, kicking around in the dirt before resuming her stance. "I think my footing's screwed up again," she groaned, looking down at her feet. "And I have my heel stuck in the stupid dirt."

Luke walked over to Lorelai, putting his hands on her waist again and gently directing her away from the plate. "You can't get so close to the plate."

"And you can't get so close to my ass," she teased.

"I'm trying to make sure you're in the right spot, for the love of God! You said your footing was messed up, and here I am, attempting to help you correct the problem. I am not trying to touch your ass!"

She giggled. "I'm just teasing you. You're awfully defensive today. Go throw me a pitch."

Luke rolled his eyes, walking back to the mound. He reached in the bucket and pulled out a softball, gently tossing it underhand. Lorelai violently swung the bat, cringing as the ball sailed past her and the bat flew toward the fence. She ducked, holding her hands over her head to ensure that she didn't get hit. Standing there for a moment with her hands over her head, she watched as Luke came over from the pitcher's mound.

"I'm guessing that wasn't right," Lorelai said, straightening up and looking around cautiously to make sure she wouldn't get hit by any more falling objects.

"Not even close," Luke replied.

The two walked toward the plate once again. Luke put his hands on Lorelai's shoulders and she said nothing. He was going to be no fun if he had to continue to defend himself over his touchy feely moments. She sighed. Shivering as he put his hands on her waist again, she tried not to giggle. It got less awkward each time he put his hands on her.

A part of her felt silly for calling him out, but another part of her suspected that he was really trying something. She allowed him to help her get settled in the batter's box once more. Just as he put his hands on her hips again, directing her toward the right, Rory approached the pair by the plate, clearing her throat as though to announce her presence.

Luke quickly dropped his hands and Lorelai turned around. She walked out of the dirt square and handed Rory the bat. "Take good care of Barry. I'll, uh, see you at home."

"You're leaving?" Luke asked.

She shrugged. "I have some stuff to do."

"Stuff?"

"You know, inn stuff. Thanks for teaching me how to swing the bat. Rory needs a turn now. She's the one getting graded, after all. I'll see you in the diner… tomorrow?"

"We… open at five," Luke said, sounding completely confused.

Lorelai grabbed the once abandoned cup of coffee and walked out of the baseball field, leaving Luke and Rory to practice.