"Are we there yet?" Lorelai whined, leaning over the top of Rory's head to poke at Luke's shoulder. She gleed in delight as his brow creased in what she knew was feigned annoyance.
"Lorelai, we've driven 5 feet. You can still see inside the diner windows if you crane your neck far enough."
She let out a long sigh, "Alright, but this mystical pie-eating place better be worth it."
Rory smiled to herself as she observed the two adults that flanked either side of her, deep in a playful round of bantering. She knew her mom liked to tease Luke, she knew he liked to tease her too, in his own no-nonsense sarcastic way. If she didn't know Luke so well by now, she might've thought he was being mean, but with every little jab, he'd throw a wink, a nod, or let his eyes show a glimmer of softness behind them.
Rory had seen him interact with other customers, and he remained, for the most part, firmly monosyllabic. But with her mother, and with her, Luke was…he was their Luke. She liked that about him, that he showed he cared not with words, Rory and her mother had plenty of words. He showed he cared with action. He baked pies and helped with math homework. He fixed broken porch rails and held the diner open after closing to make them their very own movie night snacks.
Rory was torn out of her deep train of thought as Luke turned onto Spruce Street and drove to the very end, cranking the steering wheel to the left and pulling into a wide gravel driveway. A white shingled house came into view. Neatly trimmed landscaping led up the walkway to a bright red door.
"See? 7 minutes." Luke said, as he threw the driver's side door and jogged around to the other side to open the passenger door for the girls.
Lorelai unclipped her seatbelt wordlessly, trying to silently temper down all of the questions that were floating around her brain.
Where were they? Why had she and Rory joined Luke on an impromptu adventure, no questions asked? Was this Luke's…house?
Lorelai and Rory followed Luke wordlessly up the few steps of the stoop and waited patiently as he rapped on the door. They shared a look of confusion, but before they could telepathically communicate any further, the door swung open revealing an older woman, a few inches shorter than Lorelai. She had light brown hair, streaked with silver and coiffed neatly in a bob hairstyle. Her hazel eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the sight in front of her, reminding Lorelai eerily like Luke when he was sussing out a situation.
The woman was dressed in pair of high-waisted beige linen slacks with a matching belt and a light blue blouse tucked in neatly. She wore a simple pair of pearl earrings and a simple gold wedding band on her finger.
"Lucas," She said simply with a slight arch to her brow, opening the door widely for the 3 of them to enter the foyer, "Aren't you going to introduce me to these beautiful young things?"
A crimson blush flooded Luke's cheeks as he toed off his boots, the girls following suit, "Uh, Nonna…"
Nonna. Luke has a Nonna.
Lorelai shook her head gently to clear her thoughts, intent on observing every second of this evening. Her senses on high alert but her babbling thoughts swirling wildly in her brain, begging to be released.
"Nonna, this is my friend Lorelai and her daughter Rory."
"Lorelai," Norah repeated knowingly, "It's so lovely finally meet you, lovely Lorelai."
Lorelai looked at the woman in front of her, Nonna, Luke's Nonna, and smiled shyly, offering a hand out, but the woman folded her into a hug. Pulling back to look into her bright eyes briefly, "We've heard a lot about you."
"Oh, well," Lorelai started, feeling a blush of her own creep up.
Luke's told his grandmother about me? And Rory? Me and Rory?
"And you, sweet thing," Norah turned to Rory and gave her a kind smile, folding the young girl into a hug of her own, "I've heard you have more books than the whole of the Stars Hollow Library."
Rory grinned, "Well I wouldn't say that yet, but that's definitely the goal!"
They all laughed at the little girl, and then Luke turned to Lorelai and Rory, "This is my grandmother, Norah Danes."
"Please, call me Nonna, I insist."
"And what about me, son?" Lionel took two steps up from the sunken living room to meet the group in the foyer, and wrapped an arm around Norah's shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze.
Luke chuckled and rubbed a hand self consciously down the side of his neck, "Ah, yes, sorry, this is Pops, my grandfather, Lionel Danes."
"Call me Pops, anyone who's anyone does," He said, as he extended a hand to the girls.
"Pops, Nonna" Lorelai said, testing the names out on her lips, "Well, it's so, wow, it's so nice to meet you both."
"So nice." Rory parroted.
Norah and Lionel led the girls into the living room as Luke walked back into the kitchen to set the pie aside and busy himself by setting the table for 6 instead of 3. He was grateful that his grandmother always prepared enough food for at least double her audience, so there would be plenty to go around.
In the living room, Norah poured Lorelai a glass of Merlot and fixed a coke for Rory. The four of them plopped down on the sofa and regaled them with stories of the town from back in the day. Lorelai and Rory quickly learned that the insane antics of the Doose family apparently went back generations and that Kirk had been Luke's shadow since the 6th grade when he fished the younger kid out of the lake sputtering after Brad Banyon shoved him in.
Luke took several more moments longer than necessary, rearranging the platters of food on the dining room table to be served family style: Nonna's famous lasagna, extra cheesy garlic bread and Caesar salad with homemade croutons.
With a resigned sigh, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and walked back into the living room just as his grandfather was asking Rory if she wanted to peruse his own library of books. With an excited squeal, she followed him through a sliding pocket door to his study.
Norah excused herself to check on dinner, even though she sensed Lucas had already taken care of setting the table and platters down on the table.
"And then there were two," Lorelai said to Luke, quietly sipping her wine, her eyes drawn to the various photographs on the bookshelves flanking the fireplace, "Oh my God!" She exclaimed when a particularly cute photo of little Luke caught her eye. She lifted the antique looking silver frame to take a closer look and smiled widely, "Luke, look how adorable you were."
"Were?" He asked with a small smirk.
Lorelai rolled her eyes and walked the frame over to him to see, "You want people to look at you now and think…adorable?"
He took a long sip from his beer and met her eyes with a gaze so intense, she could swear he could see right through her. She swallowed a lump in her throat, looked down at the photo and then held it out for him to inspect.
"Adorable, right?" She said softly.
He looked at the photo of himself at probably around 5 years old wearing his Stars Hollow All-Stars uniform leaning against the chain link fence of the baseball field, arms folded across his chest, and eyes fixed in a stubborn look towards the camera. He had a small frown on his face, his little brows furrowed.
He shrugged his shoulders and drained the beer, keeping his eyes locked on hers, daring her to pull them away again, "We lost that game, I was pissed ."
"Really? Because you look utterly elated from what I can see."
He set the bottle down and stood up to his full height, taking the frame from her hand, their fingers brushing on the hand off. He walked back over to the shelf and set it down back in it's spot, "You wanna see elated?"
She nodded her head and followed him over to the other bookshelf, watching as he pulled off a dark wooden framed photo of another baseball uniform-clad Luke, but this one was older, sexier.
Lorelai flipped her hair over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at Luke, silently asked him to hand it over. He obliged, and she took a closer look.
There was Luke, her Luke, no, no wait, not her Luke, it was Luke. Just Luke. Luke Danes, dressed in his white Red Sox uniform splattered with dirt and grass stains, he had a light sheen of sweat across his forehead, his lips stretched into a triumphant grin so wide, eyes crinkling at the sides, a ball clasped firmly in one arm and thrust up high in the air, his bicep flexing enticingly. He was happy. No, that was the understatement of the century. He was truly elated. The look on his face made her heart swell with pride for this man, not her man, this man. Just, this man, Luke.
Uh oh. She met his eyes once again. They were standing so close, she could see his chest rising up and down, staring down at her with those stormy dark blue eyes, observing her as she observed him.
"So?" He finally asked in a quiet voice, hoarse with emotion.
"Elated. Utterly and completely…elated."
He nodded once, and plucked the photo from her hands, placing it back on the shelf.
She felt the heat of his gaze on her again, and she took an instinctive step forward, dropping her eyes to the floor.
Suddenly the large room felt small, very very small. He reached a hand out, and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, drawing a finger along her jaw, tilted her chin up towards his gaze and spoke up again, "It was a home game, my second major league start. I pitched a no-hitter. We beat the other team. Beat 'em badly."
"Wow," she gasped softly. She didn't know a single thing about baseball other than the cute outfits, but she had to assume a no-hitter was a good thing. And she certainly knew a win was win, "That's, you're, amazing."
He let go of her jaw and let his hand fall to his side, as she saw him visibly stiffen at the compliment. He gave her a one-armed shrug, "Nah, it wasn't just me, teamwork and training and all that other crap."
Lorelai searched his eyes, wondering what had spurred on the intimate moment that he had broken far too soon for her own comfort. She and Luke had a thing. They had a routine that was almost perfected, and as much fun as she had bantering with him, goading him, teasing him, flirting with him, they'd never crossed that imaginary line of physical touch before. Sure, his fingers would occasionally brush hers as she handed him a few dollars on her way out the door, she'd led him up the porch of the Crap Shack by placing a hand on his flannel-clad back once, but it had never gone further than that, well, until tonight.
Luke touched my face. And I…liked it? No, I definitely liked it.
She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a no-nonsense voice hollering from the dining room, "Dinner's ready kids, don't dawdle now!"
Luke pulled into the driveway of the Crap Shack later that evening. He looked down and smiled softly at Rory's sleeping form burrowed against his side. Lorelai gently reached over to wake her, but Luke stopped her, grasping her soft delicate hand in his own roughened one, giving it a gently squeeze before placing it back in her lap.
"She looks so peaceful," He whispered.
Lorelai gave him a small smile and her stomach did that butterfly thing that it was so fond of lately at his unexpected tenderness.
"Let me help you take her inside, it's been a long day."
She nodded, not willing to put up the pretense of pushing back at his request and just the littlest bit enamored at the hesitant way he opened the heavy car door and carefully reached across the bench seat for her daughter, folding her easily in his arms.
With a small sigh, she held tightly to the stack of tin-foil covered leftovers that Luke's grandparents had thoughtfully packed away for them to take home, and followed the two of them up the porch stairs.
Luke pushed open the door to the house, rolling his eyes over his shoulder at Lorelai when he realized she hadn't bothered to lock up.
She shrugged, toeing off her heels and setting her purse down before following Luke into Rory's room where he placed her down as gently as a feather on top of her neatly made twin bed.
Lorelai hovered in the doorway, watching the scene in front of her. Wondering how this self proclaimed anti-jam hands man could look so utterly natural tucking her daughter in.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when suddenly the man himself was by her side again whispering, "I'll let you handle the…other stuff, but I just y'know I was the reason you guys were out pretty late on a school night, so it's the least I could do, helping you get her settled and all."
She nodded wordlessly and gave him a small smile, gesturing him to follow her into the kitchen as she gently closed the door to Rory's room.
Luke looked around at the cluttered but barely used kitchen, noticing the leftovers on the kitchen table, and without a word, picked them up and placed them into the refrigerator, rearranging 2 half empty cans of whipped cream and few Chinese food cartons, to make sure everything could fit properly.
"Ah, so you're an expert at Fridge Jenga too?"
Luke closed the door of the fridge and turned back around, "Fridge Jenga?"
"Yeah, you know when you have to pack and repack, squishing things that can be squished, stacking those that can stack, in order to get that perfect fit in there?"
Luke nodded in mock seriousness, "Sure, but you know, you could also, oh I don't know, and this might be too wacky a concept for you—"
"Hello, Fridge Jenga Champion here."
"You could always toss out the old crap and actually check what you've got in there before loading up your Doose's cart. Then you could just place your items in there and not have to play refrigerator games of any sort."
"Aw, but Luke, where's the fun in that?"
He groaned, "Yeah I don't know what I was thinking, continue with your game, hope you hit a high score."
"Dirty," She chuckled.
"Ah, geez."
"You were pretty amazing today Luke."
"I don't remember playing a game of Fridge Jenga against you."
"Luke," She murmured, that soft tone returning to her voice, all pretense of jest having disappeared.
"You're raising one hell of a kid, Lorelai," He murmured back, cutting her off from thanking him once again.
She shook her head bashfully, a few curls curtaining her face with the movement, "I can't take all the credit, we've got kinda a mutual 'growing up' thing going on here."
He nodded with just the hint of a smile at her uncharacteristic shyness, "Not that you need it, but, I'm here."
"Standing right here in my kitchen, yes. Loving the flannel choice today by the way."
And the joking was back.
"Lorelai," He growled.
She smiled and gave him a knowing look before brushing past him to open the fridge and reach for 2 unopened beers, "You working the opening shift tomorrow?"
"You wondering if I'll be there to make your Wednesday morning special?"
She offered him one of the beers and smiled, "Nah, Mike's French toast is almost as good as yours, I guess can deal."
"I'll be there."
She took a long sip of her beer, eyes dancing, and punched a fist in the air, "Thank God, your French toast is so much better!"
Before he had a chance to respond, her eyes bulged slightly at the volume of her voice, hushing him to stay quiet for a moment. Not that he needed the clue. She led him silently back through the front door and patted the vacant spot next to her on the porch swing, inviting him to join her.
He took a seat, taking a sip of his beer and leaning back against the swing, using one steel toed boot to rock them gently.
Lorelai folded her legs up as best as she could in her tight black work pants, hugging her knees to her chest and tucking her chin on top, her beer dangled loosely from her fingertips. She sat in uncharacteristic silence for a few more moments, studying his features as if to commit each and every one to memory. She had seen such a new side to him tonight. She met his family. His family knew of her and Rory before she had even stepped foot into their cozy home. She had questions, tons of them, but in that moment, underneath that inky black sky, for once in her life, she didn't want to fill the silence, the comfortable silence, with words.
Luke felt her eyes on him. He had a sixth sense for her. Sometimes he wondered if she realized that every time she entered his diner, he just happened to have a freshly brewed carafe of coffee waiting and warm for her. Or if, when he was over at the Crap Shack on one of those countless occasions fixing something, he would notice something else: a loose handle, chipped paint, a cabinet door that needed tightening, and made sure to make a midweek stop at the hardware store to pick up whatever supplies he would need to have on hand next time.
"I have to say, spending my Tuesday night eating the best lasagna in the world…remind me to taunt Al by the way, sitting in the living room as your grandfather read Whitman aloud, sipping wine and laughing with your grandmother, watching Rory serve that incredible pie you guys slaved over in the diner," She paused to take a breath and toyed with the label on her now empty beer bottle, "Was kind of, the best night I've had in a long time."
Luke turned to look over at her, the moonlight casting the most beautiful reflection on her face, "Yeah?"
She nodded, a smile quirking the corner of her lips, "Luke, you sharing that with us tonight, that was above and beyond. God, this whole day, it's like, I know you don't want me to say thank you but I really am at a loss for words here."
He reached for her empty bottle, and set it aside with his own, turning to face his upper body towards her, still using his foot planted on the ground as leverage to rock them steadily in the night, "Al's food is crap, I've been trying to warn you about his place since you and Rory got food poisoning from his foray into Thai food night six months ago. I served you two plain chicken broth for a week after that." He said softly with a small smirk of his own.
She smiled at that. She knew, somewhere, inside of her that Luke cared about them more than his average customers, she thought it might have something to do with her well chosen ensembles and the perfected Gilmore pout, but in the year plus that she'd known and annoyed him, each and everyday, she came to realize that the gruff persona was just that. A persona. This Luke, her Luke, no, their Luke, was a full blown softie.
"Seeing you with them tonight, God, Luke, they adore you. You are their whole world."
"I'm really glad you got to meet them, the both of you, they're pretty special," he murmured.
"They're incredible."
He nodded, "They adore you too y'know? And Rory. They're not like that with just anyone. And y'know if you ever, have a free night again, it wouldn't be awful if you joined us again. It was, it was fun."
Lorelai shifted in her seat and inched a bit closer to him and cocked her head, whispering to him softly, "Lucas Danes, did you just say something was fun?"
He felt her warm breath inches from his face, smelled her sweet perfume, felt an almost painful urge to tuck one of those luscious loose curls back behind her ear again.
She felt her breath quickening and her stomach flutter with butterflies under his intense gaze. Suddenly, the air felt warm, intoxicating, she flickered her eyes from his intense dark blue stare down to his delicious looking lips and wondered what it would be like for him to kiss her. Wondered if they'd feel as soft as they looked.
Luke inched closer, feeling the heat build between them, and tilted his head slightly to the side, his lips parting ever so slightly as his eyelids fluttered closed.
Lorelai gulped a breath of fresh air, knowing she'd soon need all the oxygen she could get, and tilted her head to meet him halfway.
Before their lips touched, a loud ringing interrupted them.
Luke jumped back at the offending noise, and Lorelai leapt up to rush inside and grab the receiver before it woke Rory.
Looking through the window into the living room, Luke could see her eyes widened and a look of annoyance flash on her features. With the moment properly ruined, he groaned and pulled himself up off of the swing. He stood there, looking at her run a hand through her hair and pace around the room, full engrossed in what seemed to be an intense conversation, finally she met his eyes and gave him an apologetic frown.
He realized she was going to be caught up with whoever the late night mystery caller was for what could be a while, so with a one-armed wave through the window, Luke picked up the empty bottles in one hand to dispose of and walked heavily down the porch stairs.