Dear Luke,

On behalf Major League Baseball and the Boston Red Sox, it is with our greatest pleasure to invite you to the Boston Red Sox opening game, on March 29, 1997.

As you well know, this year marks 10 years since your record no-hitter game, only the 5th in the total history of our national pastime, and the 1st in the 96 year history of the Boston Red Sox franchise.

To celebrate the anniversary of your historic 14-effort strikeout, we dutifully invite you attend an official ceremony at the stadium, and participate in a photo spread to celebrate all of your career achievements.

As a three-time All-star player, and Cy Young Award winner, your efforts have ranked you as one of the best players to have played the game. You have truly earned a unique place in baseball history forever.

We send our best wishes to you in celebration of this remarkable day in baseball history, and will follow up with more details.

Sincerely,

Edward Rollins,

Commissioner of Baseball

Calvin O'Connor

President & CEO, Boston Red Sox

Luke took a steadying breath as he finished reading the letter aloud, finally lifting his eyes off of the page and meeting his grandfather's glassy ones.

"What do you think?"

Lionel slapped his knee, "Well I can tell what you're thinkin'. And I have to tell you, you'd be crazy not to go."

Luke tossed the letter aside and leaned back against the plaid couch in his grandfather's study. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked. "I thought that chapter of my life was behind me. I thought I'd closed the book on it for good."

"Life doesn't work that way, kid."

Luke shook his head, "I don't know if I can go back there."

"Why the hell not?"

"It's been years, Pops."

"Your achievements don't have expiration dates on 'em, son."

"I've got a life here now. The diner, the town, Lorelai and Rory."

"Let me give it to you straight," Lionel counted each point on one of his fingers, "You've hired more help at the diner. It can run without you for a few days. Rory, your Nonna and I…hell the whole town'll go crazy to support you." Lionel let out a low whistle, "And Lorelai well, you're going to need a date to this thing, won't you? And she sure is a pretty one. Seems to love you quite a lot too."

Luke was still processing, "I just, I didn't see this coming."

"You buried that whole time in your life," Lionel murmured, "You buried it when we buried your father."

Luke lifted his eyes, slightly bloodshot from the lack of sleep and tears that pricked behind them at the mere mention of his dad.

"This is a time to celebrate, Lucas. He would be so immensely proud of you. He'd want you to be there. To enjoy just a taste of that notoriety you worked so hard for."

"Maybe," Luke murmured.

"What does Lorelai think?"

"Lorelai?"

"Well what'd she say? I bet she had at least a few zingers about that magazine they want to take your picture for."

Luke tugged on the bill of his backwards baseball cap in a nervous habit, "I haven't exactly uh–told her yet."

Lionel looked at him like he had three heads, "And why the hell not?"

"I've been…kind of in my head about it since it arrived a couple of days ago."

Lionel leaned forward in his armchair, a serious gaze on his face, "Lucas, how do you feel about Lorelai?"

Luke jerked his head up at the seriousness of his grandfather's voice. "I love her," he said easily.

Lionel nodded, "And you see this going…" He let the words linger there in the silence.

"I see it going," Luke confirmed.

"Well you've got to tell her. Tell her what's on your mind. Even if you're confused–hell, especially if you're confused. Lean on her. Trust her. Let her…let her be your anchor too. That's the only way this thing you two have is going to work."

XXXXXX

Rory ran up the stairs two at a time and burst into her mother's room. She flopped ever so gracefully onto her stomach onto the unmade bed. She rested her chin against the heel of her hands, and kicked her legs in the air, watching with fascination as her mother expertly swiped, dabbed, and powder puffed her face in the vanity mirror.

"Can you put some eyeshadow on me?"

Lorelai raised an eyebrow through the mirror, "Halloween was months ago, babe."

Rory got up from the bed and walked over to the vanity, admiring the painterly pots of glitter and shimmer. "Just a little?"

"What's with the fascination?"

Katie and her friends all wear makeup to school. Glitter eyeshadow and eyeliner. I'm a little afraid of a pencil that close to my eye though. I thought I'd start off with the small stuff."

"Hm," She said noncommitedly as she continued to dig through her makeup kit. "I don't think glitter eyeshadow really goes with your outfit."

Rory struck a pose in her bright blue sweater and denim, "You mean my ensemble?"

"Yes exactly, your ensemble," Lorelai laughed.

Rory turned to the side and inspected herself in the mirror with a frown. Pulling her sweater closer to her body and then letting it go.

Lorelai caught her in the act, "What are you doing?"

"Can we go to the mall this weekend? I think I need my first bra."

Lorelai pulled Rory to sit down next to her on the edge of the bed. "Rory, babe, seriously what's going on? Eyeshadow, lipgloss, Spice Girls, bras?"

Rory folded her arms against her chest, "I'm totally growing up, mom."

"I know kid, but this is all a bit sudden don't you think? You're going all Cher Horowitz on me."

Rory stood up and placed her hands on her hips and said in a haughty tone not unlike her grandmother, "I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm a growing woman."

And with that she spun on her sneaker-clad heel and skipped downstairs to meet her school bus, swiping a tube of sparkly lipgloss off of the hall table on her way out.

XXXXXX

On Friday evening, Luke and Lorelai dropped Rory off at Katie Fincher's house for a slumber party. There were three other girls attending, and while Lorelai was a bit hesitant letting her daughter spend more time with her new friends, Rory had begged and pleaded with her.

Luke held Lorelai's hand as they coasted down the highway towards Hartford, "Rory said she'd call and check in before they went to sleep."

Lorelai nodded, "I think I'm having a harder time then I'd like to admit with this whole independent, growing up thing she's so fond of lately."

"She's a good kid, Lorelai."

"The best," She agreed.

Lorelai scooted closer to him on the bench seat and rested her head against him, "I'm sorry I've been a bit…distracted this week."

"I haven't been at my best either," He admitted, "The diner's been nuts, and I know Mia's still trying to hire more staff at the Inn. Things will settle down soon."

"She's got a few interviews lined up this week, hopefully one of them sticks."

"Hopefully," He agreed.

"Everything okay at your grandparents' house?"

She knew that he and Rory had been helping his grandfather reorganize his study, but she noticed he was making house calls more often this week. Luke was always quiet with his thoughts, but he seemed further away than usual the past few days.

"Yeah, I just uh, needed to talk a few things over with Pops."

"Some good 'ol grandfatherly advice?"

"Something like that," He murmured.

"That all?"

"What's with the fourth degree?"

"You just seem…"

"I'm fine," He said with finality.

"Ok," She said softly, as he pulled through the gates to her parents house.

He parked the truck in their circular driveway and idled for a few moments so they could both get their bearings.

Lorelai linked her arm through his as they approached the imposing front door. "So do we need to go over the ground rules again?"

"You mean the bulleted list you left as a form of payment for your breakfast this morning?"

"That was your tip," She straightened his navy blue tie and smoothed her hands down his chest, "Your payment happened in the shower this morning. And then again upstairs in your apartment this afternoon."

Luke blushed. She loved that she had that kind of power over him.

"Of course," She murmured, "If you have a problem with my form of payment we can always come up with some sort of alternative."

Luke cut her off with a soft kiss, "There's no problem," He whispered against her lips.

They pulled apart, and she tenderly swiped a bit of lipstick off of his mouth. "Now be a good boy, and there might be an extra something in it for you later."

Emily Gilmore had choreographed this evening to perfection. It started with the menu: roasted winter vegetable salad, rack of lamb and herbed potatoes, and a cranberry orange cake for dessert.

She'd selected dahlias for the floral arrangement, and begrudgingly ordered the maid to add an assortment of imported beer to the drink cart.

Luke had been a very surprising hit at their Christmas party. Truth be told, she hadn't quite known what to expect. To her knowledge, Lorelai hadn't dated anyone since Christopher. And where was Christopher these days anyway? There were certainly less and less mentions of Rory's father since that brief visit a few months ago.

Emily sat at her antique writing desk, listening to several messages on her answering machine from her guests, rolling her eyes at the numerous mentions of that interesting fellow Luke Danes. It was as if she had tossed a shiny new toy in front of those old biddies. It almost read as a cheap stunt.

And Emily was anything but cheap.

The professional athlete background–that she could spin. Maybe. Possibly. Of course she'd have to insist that Richard check into his past a bit more. Figure out what his holdings consisted of, if he was involved in any philanthropy, or hiding any other unsightly secrets.

The scarlet letter of new money however…was simply frowned upon in her circles. And Luke, well, despite whatever money he may or may not have earned as a professional athlete, he was now living in a small town and operated what could only be described as a greasy spoon.

So just how new money was he? Well, that was also due to be investigated further.

Several hours later, from an antique arm chair in the living room, she shifted in her seat and tried to tamper down her distaste at the stein glass of Stella Artois that Luke Danes was currently sipping from.

"Art certainly had some wonderful things to say about you after you departed that evening," Richard raised his glass, "It's quite impressive what you managed to achieve. Beating the odds and whatnot."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes, "Beating the odds? Luke wasn't some pauper picked up off the side of the road and dropped in a baseball square."

"Diamond," Luke corrected her in a whisper.

"I didn't mean to offend the boy, Lorelai. I just meant it's rather rare to have jumped from high school athletics straight into a major league franchise."

"It was," Luke agreed, "In all honesty, I adopted more of a 'fake it til you make it' type of attitude."

Lorelai lightly elbowed him, "Hey that was my thing too!" The couple shared a secret smile between them.

"Well I do think there's something to be said about jumping right into something with both feet. Takes real courage," Richard agreed.

"Or naïveté," Emily added with a pointed stare.

Lorelai's eyes narrowed at the implication, "How about ambition? Or drive?"

Luke patted her leg gently, "Luckily by the time I opened up the diner I had a little more preparation behind me. I took a couple'a night classes at the local college, and really leaned on my mentors to show me the ropes."

Richard took a sip from his drink, "That sounds wise. The restaurant business can be brutal."

"Luke's is legendary in the Hollow. Best burgers in the Tri-state. And pie. Incredible pie. Ooh! And pancakes. Luke makes the best pancakes. "

"Is there anything Luke doesn't serve?" Emily asked in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Name anything you two have eaten in the last two weeks. I can guarantee you won't find it on the menu at Luke's," She shot back. "Thank god," She added under her breath.

Emily's maid of the week appeared in the doorway, "Mrs. Gilmore," she announced,"Dinner is ready to be served."

"Would you like another beer Luke?"

Luke maintained the even smile he'd plastered on since they walked over the threshold earlier. He'd had a single beer during the drinks portion of the evening and Emily hadn't let him forget it. Her icy stare had him chugging it down in a way he hadn't since high school.

Suffice to say, he switched to red wine during dinner.

He swirled what was left of that wine in his glass, and drained that too.

"Thanks, but I really should switch to water."

"Graciela," Emily craned her neck to catch the maid's attention. "The water glasses need a refill."

"Certainly, Mrs. Gilmore," She responded, before rushing over with a crystal pitcher.

Emily took a delicate sip from her wine glass, "Tell me, Luke. How does one go from the echelon of the Boston social scene to…running a diner of all things?"

"He owns the diner," Lorelai cut in.

"It's alright," Luke murmured, shooting Lorelai another warning look.

She'd been jumping to his defense all evening. Every little comment or snide remark that her mother tossed out like a grenade, Lorelai had somehow taken personal offense to. She jumped on those grenades with a forcefulness that was making Luke very uncomfortable.

She was making him look weak. Luke hated to look weak.

He cleared his throat, "Uh, well I moved back home after my dad died. For weeks I stayed with my grandparents. Most days I was lazing around the house, not doing much. It was a huge adjustment from being on the road, in a new city every week, surviving off of lousy diner food and protein shakes. Anyways, eventually I found myself in the kitchen with my grandmother. She's an amazing cook, and she somehow got me out of my head and working with my hands again. We made all of her old recipes together. A lot of my mom's too. Turns out I was pretty good at it. Better even, I really enjoyed it."

For the first time in Lorelai's twenty-something years, she noticed the speechless expressions on her parents faces. If only she knew Luke's secret to shutting them up back when she was living under their roof.

"Anyways, opening the diner was kind of a fluke. I wasn't exactly passionate about Dad's hardware business, and it was my grandfather really, and an old family friend named Bud who gave me the push to turn it into something I could see myself doin' full time. We've been open for a few years now and people seem to like it, so i guess we're doin' something right."

"People love it," Lorelai concurred with a gentle pat to his arm and shining eyes.

XXXXXX

Luke and Lorelai rode in silence on the way home.

She spared a glance at his profile. Catalogued his furrowed brow, his focused eyes, the tight line of his lips, and white knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel.

He was pissed. Or at least, he seemed pissed. Lorelai bit her lip. She wanted to know what he was thinking. She needed to know what he was thinking.

With slight hesitation, she scooted closer to him on the bench seat. Took a breath. Then another. Finally mustered the courage to tap his thigh. He was wearing a beautiful pair of charcoal wool slacks that looked absolutely delicious on him.

Her voice sounded louder than normal in the heavy silence of the cab, "Are we ok?"

"We're fine."

"I hate them."

"Lorelai," he let out an annoyed sigh, "They're your parents."

"They're awful."

"They weren't that bad. Snooty, sure. But nothin' I haven't dealt with before."

Lorelai dropped her mouth open, "I'm sorry, were you listening to them back there? They were attacking you!"

"They were testing me. And you jumping in after every comment had me looking weak. I'm not a weak guy, Lorelai," He grumbled with a finger pointed to his chest.

She shook her head stubbornly, "I was just trying to protect you."

Luke pulled into his parking spot behind the diner. He sighed, "I don't need you to protect me."

She fiddled with a loose thread on her coat, her lips fixed into a small concerned frown.

He uttered her name more softly this time, and silently led her through the darkened diner and up the stairs with a hand that felt warm and comfortable at the small of her back, even through the material of her heavy wool coat.

He helped take off that coat, and then shed his too. Next came her boots. He knelt before her, and she delicately balanced herself on his shoulders as she lifted one foot and then the other. Carefully, he unzipped each one of her tall black leather boots that had been driving him mad all evening. Looking up at her, she gave him a ghost of a smile and brushed his hair back softly with her fingers.

He stood up to his full height and guided her over to the leather arm chair. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. With her head against his chest, and his arm wrapped securely around her waist, she listened to the steady beat of his heart for several long silent moments.

"I don't want them to scare you away," she murmured against the soft wool of his sweater, "There's nothing they won't do to try and step all over how I choose to live my life. That includes who I choose to be with."

"Gonna take a lot more than a dinner with your parents to get rid of me. I'm not going anywhere," he said in a murmur. He brought his lips to her forehead and left a gentle kiss there, "I'm right where I want to be, Lorelai."

She lifted her head and shifted in his lap. "I'm right where I want to be too," she couldn't resist saying with a cheeky grin. It only seemed right to seal the moment with a kiss. She cradled his face and stroked the growing stubble on his cheeks lovingly, "You were terrific tonight."

Luke rolled his eyes, "Fell right into the beer trap though."

She kissed the corner of his mouth, "I told you to stick to the approved list.

"I'll do better next time."

She drew back from him, "Don't say things like that!"

"What'd I say?"

"Things like, next time. There are plenty of long months between now and springtime, which by the way, is the next time they expect to see Rory and I." She flashed him a wicked grin, "But don't worry, I've managed to get really violently sick the last two Easter Sundays. I think I may have car trouble this year around that time, just to mix things up."

He looked up at the ceiling, "Don't say things like that."

She instantly took in his change demeanor, "Luke…"

He raised his head, "I worry about you enough–what with the excessive caffeine consumption, the poor eating habits and lack of seasonally appropriate wardrobe choices," He skimmed his hand along her stocking-clad thigh and grazed the hem of her short skirt, "Don't give me even more reason to worry."

She bit her lip at the seriousness of his tone and inwardly scolded herself for the flippant remark. Luke had shared so little about his mother and father, but she knew he suffered untimely losses of both of them. Two illnesses–one short, and one long and drawn out took both of the closest people to him at such a young age.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathed in his scent, and pressed her lips there, "I'm not going anywhere" she whispered, repeating his sentiment from earlier.

He nudged her chin up towards him and looked down into her beautiful eyes, at the flickers of adoration mixed with fear that shone in them.

And then he was kissing her. Kissing her with his whole body. In the very specific 'Luke' type of way that had her head spinning and whole body buzzing in anticipation. It quickly took a turn towards frantic, as it so often did between them before they pulled apart with chests heaving.

"Luke," she tried again, as he dove in for his fill of her neck. His fingers deftly found the buttons on her blouse and started undoing them one by one.

"Luke, wait."

With effort, he halted his movement. She kissed him firmly on the lips, not giving him a chance to respond before backing off of his lap and onto her feet. She stood in front of him with a wicked grin

"You're distracting me."

"Good," he murmured. He jerked his head, "Get back here."

She shook out her hair, her curls mussed and wild from their makeout session, "You were such a good boy tonight Luke."

He unconsciously licked his lips. Scanned her body head to toe.

She shot him a sexy little grin and began unbuttoning her clingy top one by one.

Luke sat with both hands gripping the arms of his chair. His eyes turning a dark and stormy shade of blue as more and more of her skin was revealed to him.

Standing proudly in front of him in an unreasonably sexy black lace bra. He itched to touch her. All but salivating at the sight of her.

Her silky black skirt fluttered to the floor next.

Hands on her hips, she shot him a pose wearing nothing more than that bra and a tiny triangle of lace at her apex. Black thigh highs held up by garter clips covered her impossibly long legs.

"Lorelai," he growled, and she flushed with pleasure at the timbre of his voice.

"Shh," She murmured. She sauntered over to him. Straddled his lap. "No more talking."

XXXXXX

The next afternoon, Luke took a seat at the table Lorelai was occupying at the diner. He jerked a thumb towards the bathroom. He lowered his voice, "Is she ok in there? It's been a while."

Lorelai rolled her eyes and stabbed her pie with her fork, "She's primping."

"For what? She's a kid."

She took another stab at the decimated dessert, "Didn't you get the memo? She's a growing woman."

Luke pulled the plate away from her and gently unclamped her fist from the fork, "You seem to be taking that well."

"She's been horrible," Lorelai groaned, "First it was the makeup, then the digging through her closet and tossing away half of it…did you know she brushes her hair 50 times at night now? And the other day, she begged me to get her a bra."

Luke's faced twisted, "Oh geez."

"Don't get me started on the moodiness. I swear I was never this bratty."

Luke gave her a look that said he found that hard to believe.

"Ok, maybe a little. But I had reason to be! You saw where I grew up…my room was an eternal dollhouse. I couldn't breathe in there." She pouted, "I'm supposed to be a cool mom. She's supposed to like me."

"You are a cool mom. And I'll do you one better, she loves you. Worships you."

Lorelai flashed him a small smile and looked down at her destroyed plate, "Well I don't think pie loves me very much right now."

Luke rolled his eyes, "Is that a subtle hint to get you a fresh slice?"

"Apple please!" She called to his retreating back. He returned quickly with an extra large slice and slid it in front of her.

"You're dreamy," She purred before digging in.

She chewed thoughtfully for a few moments, just enjoying his company when the diner phone rang out.

He stalked back over to the counter and picked it up on the second ring.

"Uh, yes this is Luke," She heard him say.

Luke turned his back away from her and hunched his shoulders, "Yes. Thank you sir. I'll get back to you on that. Uh huh. Thanks for calling. I appreciate that. Ok. Goodbye."

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment and took a steadying breath.

"Who was that?"

Luke pursed his lips into a thin line as Lorelai waited impatiently for his response. And then suddenly he was retreating towards the staircase to his apartment.

"Luke!" She called out after him with wide questioning eyes.

He reappeared only a minute or two later with an envelope in hand. He took a seat at the table next to her, and silently slid it towards her. Still looking at him quizzically, he encouraged her to read it.

Quietly, she read the neatly typed words on the branded letterhead.

"Wow," She breathed out.

Lorelai had put two and two together from the trophies and awards displayed proudly at his grandparents house, that Luke was a great ball player. But there it was in black and white–he was basically a superstar.

"Babe, this is…"

Luke gave her a smile far too modest. Rubbed the back of his neck underneath the bill of his backwards baseball cap in nervous habit.

"You don't want to go?" She questioned.

"Honestly...I've been going back and forth about it. And I've needed a few days...to mull."

"I get it," She said softly. "I mean this," She slid the letter back towards him, "This is amazing. But...I'll think you're amazing no matter what. Former baseball stud, sexy rugged diner owner, sweet boyfriend," Her thumb brushed across the tiny scars that marked the skin of his knuckles, "I love every version of you. Even the ones I didn't get to know, and the ones I've yet to meet."

"I don't know if you woulda liked me so much back then," He murmured, "I was...different then. But going back there...I don't know if I could do it alone," He took a long pause, "Would you, uh, go with me?" He asked shyly, "If I decided to go?"

"Luke, I'd go with you anywhere."

His smile widened at that.

"Of course, it's going to cost you."

"Of course," He agreed.

"I bet they have good food at these things."

"That highly depends on what your definition of that is," He said with a grimace.

She shot him a wide grin. Briefly allowed herself to daydream about all of the treats that awaited her. "So I can have whatever I want?"

"Lorelai, you always get whatever you want," He said with his typical dose of adoration masked with exasperation.

"Good answer."

"It's the only acceptable answer when it comes to you."

"Well, a happy Lorelai, is a happy Luke," She concluded.

He shot her that smile that made her heart flip. His eyes were soft, his smile was small but meaningful. "You bet."