A/N: Another little update for you all :) Thank you for all of the kind reviews as always!

Lorelai's emergency U2 tape had wound to a finish just as Luke pulled onto a dimly lit street of brick-faced storefronts. She stole another look at his profile, and then glanced back out onto the street to people-watch, trying to place her surroundings with a furrowed brow.

"Where are we?"

Luke had his arm slung over the back of the bench seat. The truck was in park, and he was looking at her with a cocky half grin that had her equal parts wanting to throttle and kiss him senseless.

Still wearing that damn grin, he opened the driver's side door and she watched closely as he walked around to the other side of the truck offered his hand to help her down.

"Luke?"

She found herself walking in stride with him down the sidewalk. Her hand still cradled in his own, she nudged him with her shoulder and drew out the syllables in his name again questioningly.

He shushed her, and let go of her hand, moved it to the small of her back, and led her further down the block, pausing in front of a tiny outpost with it's striped awning and ivy-laden exterior. A neon sign hung in the window, casting a magnificent amber glow on her face as she flashed her sparkling blue eyes back up at him in silent question.

"Hope you brought that insatiable appetite of yours," He whispered into her ear as he pushed through the dark wooden door and the delicious scent of fresh garlic permeated the air. She breathed in deeply and smiled back at him happily, "Is this what heaven smells like?"

Lit by just candlelight, the interior brick walls were packed wall-to-wall with what seemed like hundreds if not thousands of black and white signed headshots. A dozen or so tables–all occupied, sat in the center restaurant, with two parallel rows of burgundy leather booths running the length of the room.

"And you haven't even tasted the tiramisu yet," He murmured over background noise. Her hand moved up to grasp the lapels of his leather jacket, "You eat tiramisu?"

He gave her a slow once-over, "I can be persuaded." Her mouth gaped in response and she smoothed her hands down the buttery soft leather of his jacket.

"Danes?"

Luke craned his neck and his smile widened as a man shorter than Luke, but she presumed around the same age, hurried over. Instantly, Luke was pulled into a one armed hug and the man flashed a toothpaste-commercial worthy smile. He released him and shook his head in disbelief, "I'd ask you how long it's been, but I don't want to argue with you in front of your girl." He turned to Lorelai and offered her his hand to shake in greeting.

Luke shot a glare at his friend, and smiled apologetically over at her, "Lorelai, this is Alex. An old friend, from uh, my uh–"

"Your time in the big leagues?" She supplied. He rolled his eyes, "From when I was up in Boston, yeah."

"I see that pesky humble streak of yours hasn't worn out just yet," Alex clapped Luke's shoulder and shot a winning grin at Lorelai, "Oh, I'm working on it," She replied with a grin.

"She's something," he responded easily, to which Luke responded with a glare. "And you, my man are just as territorial as ever, got it," Alex nodded and turned to Lorelai, "It's really nice to meet you, Lorelai. Welcome to Angelo's. Home of the best bolognese you'll ever have. Bar none," He confirmed with a confident nod.

"Really? No love for the lasagne?" Luke retorted as Alex led them through a maze of white tablecloths to the back of the restaurant. Alex outstretched one muscular arm and presented a semi-circular booth to the couple, a pair of drippy candles in the center.

He laid the menus down on the table as the couple slid into the booth and looked up at him, "There's nothing on here that's less than legendary," He nodded at Luke, "The lasagne king over there can attest to that."

Lorelai laughed in disbelief at Luke's uncharacteristically chatty banter and picked up a menu to peruse. Luke's menu sat untouched, but he picked up the lengthy wine list and pointed at a selection towards the bottom. Alex disappeared with a nod and promise to return promptly with their drinks, leaving the two of them alone again.

She placed the menu down and folded her hands on the table, looking over at him expectantly. Luke locked eyes with her for a moment, and then dropped his chin to his chest, "So you're maybe wondering…"

"About the whole mafia thing you've got going on?" She nodded, "Explain please."

His eyes met hers once more, found himself getting lost in the endless blue and shifted them down to her laced fingers. He reached across the table and unfolded them easily, clasping his own larger hand over her delicate fingers. She gave him an encouraging squeeze.

"Alex was one of my buddies on the team. He was a catcher–still is actually. We got drafted around the same time. He's a few years older than me, and we kinda learned the ropes together. Navigated our first couple of years on the team. After our home games we'd explore the area, found ourselves parked at the same couple of snooty bars downtown. Got bored of that pretty easily." Luke sighed, "And at the end of each of those stupidly drunken nights, the guys and I would always try to track down an Italian joint and order just about everything on the menu." He contorted his face in disgust, "I mean you shoulda seen us, a couple of idiots gorging ourselves."

Lorelai giggled, "I cannot imagine out-of-control Luke."

He shot her a look, "Of course, most of it sucked. I mean I'm used to really good Italian food."

"Like your Nonna taught you," Lorelai answered with a sage nod.

He flashed her a grin, "Exactly. And this was just pathetic. Huge, low-quality portions, bland as hell, just awful."

Luke spared a glance around the dimly lit restaurant, a fond look overcame his features, "Until Angelo's."

Right above Luke's head, a photograph suddenly caught Lorelai's attention. She pointed up at it, "Frank Sinatra?! You're kidding me." Luke craned his neck and looked up at the photo in question and then met Lorelai's bright eyes with his own. Lorelai started rattling off rat-pack era names at a rate, before Luke squeezed her hand to bring her attention back to his story.

A happy grin sat on her glossy pink lips, "Luke," She shook her head in disbelief, "What is this place?"

"I'm tryin' to tell you."

"Ok, ok, I'll be good." She mimicked zipping her lips and sat patiently with wide eyes.

"We stumbled in here one night accidentally. Lookin' for a bar, and ended up finishing off a couple bottles of red and eatin' our way through half the menu. Got hooked. We made the drive over every chance we could. The owner, Angelo, he was a hell of a guy. Never cooked with a recipe. Imported everything straight from Italy and had the best connections with the meat market in Boston. 102 when he died. Legendary," Luke muttered.

"No one was really left to run it after that, and it's not like the guy had any investors or any crap like that, the place was almost shuttered. The sous-chef was pretty incredible but didn't have the funds to take it over. The bank was about to take it over…" Luke glanced around the untouched decor for a moment and shrugged, "Anyways, a couple of the guys and I put a little money together and took care of it."

"You…" Lorelai was still trying to catch up.

"Bought it before it turned into a cheesy tourist trap or shut all together," Luke nodded.

Alex returned with a bottle of vintage Cabernet and poured two healthy glasses. He set the heavy bottle down on the table and turned to face Lorelai with an easy smile and hooked a thumb toward Luke, "He's a good one, this guy. Annoyingly humble, but he can make a crazy good lasagne."

"That's the word on the street," She confirmed with a smile, "I've yet to confirm the lasagne rumor though."

Alex pointed to one of the specials at the top of the menu, "It's probably the most requested dish on here, we had to put it a fancy border around it on the menu and everything."

Lorelai looked over at Luke, "Your recipe?"

"An old family one," He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat and then jerked his chin towards Alex, "I'll have my usual."

"And what can I get for you, Lorelai?"

Lorelai scanned the menu and bit her lip, with so many delectable options she was having a hard time deciding, "I'll take the lasagne."

"Great choice," Alex confirmed with a wink sent Luke's way. "I'll have someone come bring out some garlic bread and couple'a apps while you're waiting."

Lorelai leaned forward, her chin resting in her hands, "So what's the story there? What's a hotshot baseball player doing working a weekend shift?"

Luke leaned towards her, matching her smirk for smirk, "When I made the call for a reservation he thought I was makin' you up."

"No way," Lorelai giggled, her dancing eyes meeting his own, "Had to see for himself it was a sure thing?"

Luke rolled his eyes, "I just wanted to take you somewhere special. Lorelai…"

"You think I'm special," She took a sip of her wine and smiled as she gently swirled it in one hand.

He picked up his own glass and arched an eyebrow, "Cuttin' right to the point?"

"You do, don't you?" She asked challengingly.

"You're special," He murmured.

"Say it like you mean it."

"You're special."

"Better."

"A special kind of work."

She laughed again–God, he loved that laugh. To his ears, it was easily one of the best sounds in the world.

A fresh loaf of sliced garlic bread was dropped off, and before Lorelai even had a chance to reach for a piece, Luke plucked one from the basket and doctored it up with olive oil and a pinch of seasonings. He held it up to her lips in silent invitation, and she tilted her head slightly, just enough to take a bite.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she smiled as she finished chewing. Opened them to find his eyes fixed on her, awaiting her reaction. "Luke," She uttered in disbelief, "This may be the single greatest culinary experience of my life."

He captured her lips in a soft kiss then. Just couldn't help himself. Licked his lips as he sat back in his seat again trying to suppress a cocky half-grin. "Delicious."

XXXXXX

Slightly wine-drunk and giggly, the last thing on Lorelai's mind on the ride home was digging through her purse for another emergency-stashed tape. They coasted down the highway, darkened scenery blurred around them, silence filling the cab. Curled into his side and uncharacteristically silent, Lorelai closed her eyes and replayed the evening in her mind like a highlight reel, consciously committing each detail to memory. She bookmarked his smile–bright, confident, and completely unreserved by the time their entrees had arrived. The way he looked at her, that glint in his eye going from gentle to devious as words tumbled out of her mouth at lightning speed. And yet, he hung onto every word she said, no matter how long-winded and downright insane her stories got as the evening progressed.

Stories. She coaxed a couple out of him too. Slowly but surely, he'd taken her behind the curtain this evening. Behind that stone wall he'd built up between his life before, and his life after.

It was half-past twelve by the time Luke's green truck had pulled into her driveway. He put the gear into park and peered down at her. He whispered her name after a beat of silence, just in case she had fallen asleep.

"If this whole night has been one giant dream, just let me sleep a few minutes longer, ok?"

He kissed her forehead in response, smiling against her skin. Giggling in response, she tilted her chin up towards him, "I'm just…not ready for it to end."

And then he was kissing her.

His fingers–long and deft, wound their way through her thick mass of curls, his lips–soft and sweet, kissed a path from her glossy lips to the smooth column of her neck. Eyes closed, a moan–low and dripping with sensuality, escaped her lips as he first kissed, and then licked, a particularly sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She murmured his name. Repeated it like a prayer over and over again.

His and her jackets lay rumpled on the floor, her halter neck top was untied now, and the tail of his shirt was haphazardly untucked,

"It's passed your curfew," He whispered into her ear with a smirk, sealing it with a kiss. He pulled away a fraction of an inch, his arms bracketing her face as he hovered above.

Her chest rose and fell, completely winded from their frantic make out session on the bench seat of his truck. Wordlessly, she pulled him back down, kissing him soundly. "I've never met a curfew I haven't broken," She whispered in response against his lips with a giggle, "Why break tradition now?"

Once more, he captured her strawberry-flavored lips, their tongues dueling for supremacy until the desperate need for oxygen became too much to bare.

"Lorelai," he tried again, brushing a wild curl out of her eye with a gentleness she wasn't expecting. Her eyelids fluttered at the contact, "I want you."

Her hand skimmed his stubbly jaw, down to his lapel and then fell to her lap. "Take me," she whispered.

"Not like this, not on this cramped seat in my truck parked in your driveway."

He kissed her again, just because he could. Because she looked so damn cute and petulant, the way she stuck out her bottom lip in a frustrated pout.

He kissed that pout right off her face, had her moaning again before he pulled back, "You're such a tease, Luke Danes." He grinned, "You'll get used to it."

With his help and only a few grumbles in response, she sat up and attempted to shift her top back into place. Luke blindly searched for his jacket on the floor of the truck, before stepping down and helping her balance across the lawn. They climbed the porch stairs carefully, Luke's arm wrapped steadily around her waist.

"By the way, I concur."

"You concur?" She asked with an arch of her brow, a playful smirk on her lips.

"This has been a really great first date."