Hi everyone! I've been working on a new L&L story for a year or so now. I'm sorry there haven't been any updates to Unexpected Changes. This story got into my head, took root, and wouldn't allow me to write anything else until I wrote it down. The good news is that this story is completely written from start to finish - I'll just take some time to put finishing touches on each chapter before posting them. I'm hoping to post at least once a week or maybe more so you can settle into the story.

Something I'm always curious about - do you all prefer longer or shorter chapters? This one is longer for the sake of setting up the story, but sometimes I wonder if it would be easier for readers if I were to post shorter chapter and post more often? Let me know!

I hope you enjoy.

LUKE POV

"Ah, look at you! The belle of the ball!" I open my arms wide as Lorelai, Will and Lilly step into the diner. "What place did you win this time, Lilly Bug?"

My little girl holds out the trophy for me to take before flopping dramatically on a chair. I take it, glance at it quickly, and then lower it to my side when Lorelai steps up to me for a peck.

"Who cares?" Lilly answers with a tone that indicates she clearly does not.

Lorelai smiles against my lips, tickled by Lilly's response, before pecking me one last time and taking a seat at a table with our twins.

"Lilly - no," I say sternly the moment I witness her ankle hitting her knee, her big poofy white dress scrunched up around her knee. "You know the rules!"

"Rules smules, Daddy!" she declares indifferently before popping the shoe from her foot with a dramatic sigh. "These shoes hurt my feet."

"That's the price of beauty," Lorelai sighs, reaching into her purse and pulling out two flip flops for Lilly to slip her sore feet into. I guess it doesn't matter how many times I've told my kids to keep their shoes on in the diner or to change them upstairs or in the car before coming into the place where I serve customers food. This is their second home, and their comfort levels are out the roof. And my wife, even to this day, still seems to think the rules of my establishment don't apply to her and our children.

"Well that's dumb," Lilly hands over her dress shoes to Lorelai. "It's not fair that girls win cause of lookin' pretty. Why don't they win because they're nice instead? If they did that, half of the girls would be out of the competition. Some of 'em are so mean, they make fun of lil Anna, and never wanna play or climb trees. All they care about is dresses and staying clean and making their mommy happy and-"

"Because that's what a beauty contest is, dummy," Will smacks from his spot. His book already lies open on the table held in place by his crossed arms over it. His chin rests on his hands, a playful smirk stretches across his young face.

"You're a dummy, dummy!"

Will sticks his tongue out, unbothered, before lowering his eyes back to his book.

"Ok, ok," Lorelai says reaching out a hand and placing it on the table between the two. "You're right, Lilly, it's not necessarily right for anyone to be judged by their looks and be ranked that way, but technically, Will is right, that is what a beauty contest is, and if you remember correctly, you, Little Miss Shirley Temple," Lorelai reaches across the diner table and bops Lilly on the nose lightly. "Asked to enter it yourself."

"Well, I only entered it for Gramma and now I don't wanna be in it anymore!" And with that, she raises her nose in the air, her long curly hair trailing down her back. "I wanna be in horseback riding with Lana!"

Lorelai winces, her eyes meeting mine pleadingly before looking back to Lilly. "You'll have to take that up with your dad."

The little girl's eyes narrow as she gives me a well practiced side-eye.

With every customer in the diner taken care of, I throw my leg over the chair and take a seat at the table with my family, observing the sparkling trophy in my hand. First place. Lillian Gilmore-Danes. Again. She has a whole shelf full of first place trophies in her bedroom. Not that it's surprising, she's tall for her age and a striking copy of her mother with long dark curly hair, crystal blue eyes, and a brain and mouth combo that takes a lot to keep up with. Simply put, Lilly is Lorelai 2.0. - much to Emily and Lorelai's horror.

It's my complete and utter joy and delight.

Yet, despite the fact that her vocal protests against the practice has been gaining attention from the head staff and her grandmother, Lilly continues to be awarded first place. Between her looks, talking skills, and the skit she performs for the talent section, she's impossible to beat.

"Lill-"

"Daddy, please!" she pleads, clasping her hands together and looking up at me with big, blue puppy-dog eyes.

I exhale loudly, noting how my girl of six hardly fills the chair she's sitting in. How can I even begin to imagine allowing her up on a large horse? There's no way she'd enthusiastically pick the cute, tame, slow pony - she'd want the majestic black stallion. That thing could fling her, throw her, and trample her under it's powerful hooves before I could even think to move my feet.

She's just a little girl. My little baby girl.

And yet, Lorelai has been pleading with me for months to give in to this horseback riding dream, insisting that if we don't allow her to follow her dreams wherever they whisk her off to, our daughter will fight back against us all that much harder. That was precisely what happened to her. Apparently Lorelai was denied and denied her wishes as a child and then one day, she turned, and that was that. Neither Emily nor Richard could reach her. She's on better footing with them now, sure, but that relationship will never be much more than it is currently.

I don't want that for our Lilly.

I want her happy and thriving and chasing her dreams.

"I won't get hurt and I promise to be careful," she starts. And with that, she's off, her words tumbling out of her mouth faster than a race horse galloping off from the starting gate. "You see how well I do with Dez and Cletus, don't you, Daddy? Miss Diana says I'm a natural horseback rider. I wanna learn to jump and ride really fast and feed them apples and brush them and braid their manes and wear the really cute pink cowboy boots. Please, Daddy, puh-lease?"

"You'll do your homework every night without complaint?"

She jerks back in her seat, each leg straddling a side of the chair, as if she's already on a horse, riding away to distant lands.

"Daddy…"

"Lilly…"

I raise an eyebrow, lift my chin and cross my arms over my chest. She frowns back, her nose crinkling adorably in disgust, the light in her eyes flickering at my words, as if she's dying slowly and painfully by the mere thought of homework. Listen, she's only six, so homework, if she even has any, maybe takes ten minutes, but with Lillian? Good grief, that girl can make it last all night. And it's not even hard for her.

"Fiiine," she drones out. "I'll do my homework."

"And the second part?" Lorelai asks.

"Without complaining," she mumbles so quietly that you have to lean forward to even hear her words.

Lorelai bounces her eyebrows once at me with a cheeky grin, clearly impressed by my ability to get our girl into doing her homework.

"And ten minutes of reading every night," I add (you only have to get her to start reading before she's catapulted into the book and you have to pry it out of her little hands).

"Ugh," her shoulders droop dramatically and her head lolls back against the chair. "You're asking too mucha me! What? Do you want a kidney too?"

Lorelai and I laugh at our daughter's words, our eyes meeting and locking in a way that communicates to the other that we love our little family, even the little spitfire before us.

The twins may only be six, but they have the Gilmore brain and are already reading small chapter books, mostly due to their desire to be like their older sisters. Although, truth be told, Will is the bookworm between the two, but Lilly wasn't about to be left behind.

"They can be horse books. I just want you happy, Lil," I say as she climbs off her chair. She makes her way over to me and climbs onto my knees, sitting so we're face-to-face, her big white poofy dress bunched up around the two of us. She looks up at me, resurfacing her saddest most pathetic blue puppy-dog eyes. A pink lower lip pouts out. She knows my weakness. I roll my eyes and fake an exasperated sigh all the while giving in, "Okay, fine."

"Yes!" Her fingers fist together in victory, joy emanating from her body as her fists pump in the air enthusiastically. "Woohoo!"

"Don't forget your end of the deal," I mock seriously, leaning in toward her and wiggling my fingers against her sides until she becomes a wiggling giggling little bug. "Otherwise I reserve the right to pull you out and make you join a fishing league."

"Ew! Slimy fish?" She grabs my big hand in her tiny ones to stop the tickling and scrunches up her nose. "No way, Jose!"

I laugh at her response and lift her in my arms as I stand to my feet when the bells above the door ring out indicating a new wave of customers. I kiss her cheek quickly, place her back on her chair and then scruff Will's dark, wavy hair though he doesn't bother looking up from his book.

"How about dinner in the tree house tonight?"

And that does it. He looks up so quickly, I worry he'll suffer whiplash. His eyes are instantly lit with joy and excitement, his fingers mindlessly placing his bookmark in place, his book closing with a plop as he hops up on his knees backwards on the chair to face me. "Tonight? Is it done? Can we finally show Mom?"

"You bet, Sluggar."

"So what do you think?"

"It's awesome!" Will says bouncing in his spot, looking up at the tree house with wide-eyed wonder. He's the all American boy in his little league baseball t-shirt and a pair of shorts. His skin is blemish free, other than a scraped knee and turning a golden hue from the time spent out in the sun. A small red cap sits perched backwards on his head. The tips of his dark hair curl out from under the cap, giving him a soft little boy look.

We've spent months, and I do mean months, carefully observing each tree in the backyard, searching for the one big enough to hold Will's dream creation. I guided Will into picking the looming oak before us, insisting that the long limbs were perfectly spaced apart to support the creation. The whole thing started as a simple project, with the idea of simply building a platform for the kids to play on, but as Will and I built that, he started talking about building a roof over it so he and Lilly could play in it when it rained and pretend they were pirates lost in a ship at sea. Soon enough, the little boy's bedroom floor was covered with rudimentary tree house sketches drawn by the boy himself. Each sketch got more and more complex. Then, of course, the whole project merged into something larger. To have a roof, you have to have supports to hold up that roof, and then why not just add walls? I had some extra windows in my storage unit that I had been trying to get rid of for a while, and soon, they became a part of the plan too.

Don't get the wrong idea, the tree house is charmingly small, for sure, but the roof overhangs the door by a few feet, creating a covered porch to sit on that leads to a 'look out'. We've taken precautions to prevent the twins from getting hurt by adding a handrail and foot rail with long fallen branches collected all throughout town. Every citizen in Stars Hollow was more than happy to be a part of the project. Rope crisscrosses the branches vertically creating a net barrier to prevent the kids from accidentally falling through and off the platform. The inside of the house is left simple, so the kids' imagination can dictate how they play. A rope ladder offers a way up and down for the brave, or a rugged spiraling staircase descends comfortably from the top of the tree house to the ground.

"I love it! It's just as I imagined," Will declares wistfully next to me. I look down and watch as his eyes take in the sight of our months long project completed. He's proud and that sight alone makes me proud. Reaching out a hand, I place it on his cap and pull him into my side. He leans against me, my little sane serious guy.

"I think it's very good," I say reaching down and lifting him in my arms. I point to the left of the tree as Will shifts in my arms to get more comfortable. "But I think we still need something on that side of the tree to even out the other side with the stairs, but I don't know what. What do you think?"

He cocks his head to the side and stares seriously before nodding in excitement. "Maybe a bucket we can pull up with a rope so we can share secret messages and get all the snacks without having to climb down!"

"That's a good idea, but how can you reach it way over there when the platform doesn't go that far?"

A little frown paints itself across his face.

"We probably want it by the platform so you could reach it," I point to a spot which would be more suitable for the contraption. "We can think about the other side. Do you want the bucket?"

He nods enthusiastically and looks behind me toward the house, "Can I go get Mommy so we can finally show her?"

"You think it's time? I bet she'll know what to put there."

"Yeah!"

I lower him to his feet. "Go on then," I laugh and watch as he runs as fast as his little legs will take him into the house.

I make my way to the stairs leading up the tree house and take them two at a time until I reach the top. I reach over a sleeping Paul Anka, who's sprawled out outside the front door, knock on the door politely and smile when a delicately pink faced Lilly opens it for me. Her feet are bare and tipped with her mother's red nail polish. A girly, pink summer dress hangs off her fair skinned shoulders, and her hair is braided into two thick pigtails though loose strands have escaped to curl around her face and at the nape of her neck.

"Hey sweetie, are we ready for dinner? Will is getting Mom."

"Yep!" she smiles. "Come on in! Welcome to Lilly's!" She throws out her arms wide and when I give her a startled look, she rolls her eyes and explains, "You have a restaurant named Luke's so I can have a restaurant named Lilly's!"

I chuckle at her words, reach out and wiggle my fingers against her soft stomach. She giggles and steps back into the tree house, making room for me to enter.

I step into what could only described as a sauna. Despite the soul crushing heat, I smile at the sight of our red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out carefully on the floor. It nearly covers the entire surface. Take-out containers are placed around the tablecloth with a place card for where everyone is to sit written in Lilly's large block kid handwriting - two extras are set for her older sisters who are making their way home for the grand reveal. A simple clay pinch vase Lilly made in school is resting in the center of the table cloth, filled with daisies she no doubt cut all on her own from our garden though we've asked that she ask before sneaking the scissors out of the junk drawer (she cut her own hair at four). She may be a little feminist, but she insisted on getting the food ready for our initiating of the tree house all on her own. I open the two windows, one on each side of the room, to allow a breeze to flow through the structure, making it bearable.

"You did a really good job, Li-" I stop with the compliment when I find myself all alone.

Outside, on the platform, instead of a sleeping dog, a chickadee chirps and hops around, eyeing me curiously with its beady black eyes before fluttering away.

"Lil?" I ask turning in confusion, looking to see where she may have run off to.

But there's no answer.

I step out of the house, look down at the yard and see nothing. Eerily, there's no movement anywhere. Paul Anka isn't even here anymore.

"That's weird," I mumble making my way down the stairs and into the house. "Lilly? Will? Lorelai?"

Still, no answer.

I search the downstairs of our house thoroughly, but it's deserted. Silent. In fact, the whole situation causes my heart to begin skipping rope in my chest.

Something's wrong, I can feel it deep in my gut, never mind when my eye catches the white picket fence enclosing our backyard. When did we put that up?

"Lorelai?" I call again. When there's no response, I run up the stairs two at a time, trying not to panic. I push open our bedroom door and freeze.

There, standing the middle of our room, is Lorelai. Her head is tipped down and she's dressed in a beautiful blue dress with a sweater wrapped around her shoulders.

Her feet are bare.

"There you are!" I let out a sigh of relief. "Where are the kids? Will came to find you and then I couldn't find Lill-"

Lorelai looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes so distraught and filled with sorrow that I stop talking. I step back, concerned, not sure that I want our perfect evening ruined by whatever horrible news she has to share.

But I can't let her deal with it alone.

"What's wro-"

"Why not, Luke, don't you love me?" she asks boldly - the question seemingly out of place.

I jerk my head back in confusion. Just last night the twins spent the night with their cousin and Liz and TJ. Lorelai and I spent the evening alone, enjoying a romantic dinner before spending all night making love with the ultimate goal of adding another little one to our family.

She knows I love her. I told her last night, over and over. She had laughed and blushed and begged me to stop saying it - that's how often I told her I loved her just hours ago. I only shut up when she slipped her fingers into the hair on the back of my head, pulled my head down to hers, and pressed her lips to mine.

"You know I do," I whisper staring at her in confusion.

Leaning to the side, I look around her, hoping to spot our kids bouncing safely on our bed, but they're nowhere in sight.

Where are they?

Horror begins to seizes my gut. What if they were taken like all those kids in those Lifetime movies Lorelai enjoys?

When I look back to my wife, a glare shines in the corner of my vision, unreal in its appearance, as if what's in front of me isn't reality.

"Don't you love me, Luke?" she repeats, quieter, brokenly. Her eyes no longer sparkle. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

"I do. I love you. You mean everything to me," I whisper urgently, somehow knowing she needs to hear the words. I step forward with the intention of wrapping her up in my arms to reassure her, but somehow, without either of us ever moving our feet, we end up transported out of our room. She's at the farthest end of a cold, harshly lit hallway and I'm on the other.

What the hell?

"Are you okay? What's going on?" I step forward, confused, and watch in horror as Lorelai is catapulted further back away from me. I panic at the realization and begin running, trying to catch up with her, but she keeps zooming back and out of reach. "Lorelai!"

"But I love you, Luke! I love you!" she exclaims desperately, her eyes filling with grief and deep, endless pain. How I can see that from where I'm standing, I can't even begin to explain. "But I've waited and I've stayed away and I've let you run this thing and no more! I asked you to marry me and you said yes!"

"What are you talking about?" I yell trying to catch up with her. "We've been married for seven years!"

I keep running, trying to get to her, but I make no ground. Instead, I trip over nothing and fall face down. Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt. When I look up from my spot on the ground, the image causes my breath to catch painfully in my chest. It's an image of pure torture. Nothing has hurt more than this.

We're now back in our bedroom.

"I love her," an unrecognizable man hisses menacingly, his soulless black eyes locked on mine as he wraps my wife up in his arms from behind. I watch hopelessly as he hooks an arm securely around her waist and pushes her hair from her neck with his other hand before dropping his lips to the satiny skin there and kissing it gently. I half expect fangs to appear from his mouth, that is how bazar this entire scene is, but that isn't what happens. Lorelai drops her head back against his chest, her blue eyes closing against the sensation, closing me off.

Everything in me paralyzes.

And somehow, don't ask me how, she's no longer in that beautiful dress. Instead, she's in my blue flannel and the man is taking his time unbuttoning it, taking it off her, as though he's literally stripping me of her. Somehow, the action is directly connected to me. With each button that is popped out of a hole, a claw digs into my chest, wrapping around my heart like a vise. It hurts like hell. I have to get this mystery man away from her not just for her sake, but so he doesn't kill me. I raise to a knee, my eyes locked on the man's fingers, ready to pounce.

"Christopher loves me," she whispers softly, her voice smooth and sweet like honey.

The name jolts me, and I raise my eyes from the fingers on the buttons and look up to find Christopher smirking at me from behind Lorelai. Not only does my heart begin to pound, but so does my head - loudly and all encompassing. My vision narrows and tunnels and hearing anything around the angry pounding of blood in my ears is nearly impossible. I can hardly breathe. I begin gasping and then panicking.

Fucking bastard.

"Lorelai, look at me! I love you," I beg desperately, wanting her to open her eyes and see me. If I can just get her to look at me . . . I crawl up on my knees, forcing myself to look at the grotesque sight in front of me in the hopes of catching her eye. This is wrong. So wrong! "Lorelai! I love you!"

But she doesn't open her eyes. She doesn't even hear me. Instead, she curls into him further, holding onto the arms that are wrapped tightly around her waist with her hands. The diamond from the wedding ring I slipped onto her finger years ago glints and blinds me as it mocks me from its place on her finger.

"We belong together. Everyone knows it. Emily knows it," Christopher sneers. He pauses when our eyes meet. His gaze bores into mine and a crooked, satanical grin plays across his face as he mocks me. "Even you know it, Luke. You told her as much, don't you remember? At the grocery store?" He pops another button out of a hole. I lurch forward onto my hands in pain. "Lorelai belongs with someone like me."

"No!" I whisper angrily. Somehow, though every part of me is shaking, I manage to rise to my feet. Lorelai's eyes pop open and lock on mine now that I'm my full height. Instead of the warmth and joy usually found there, they're cold and distant.

Where's my girl?

When I lunge forward, intent on shoving Christopher off her, I'm stunned to find myself charging only toward Lorelai. I throw out my arms to catch my footing so as to not pummel her rather than him, since Christopher is no longer wrapped around her. It's just the two of us. Thank god. Everything is going to be okay. I pull back on my feet, not hurting her at all. I'd never hurt her. "Lorel-"

"There is no us. There's you and there's me," she states clearly though it doesn't track with our current conversation at all. "It's over."'

And just like that, a trapdoor opens beneath me, and I'm falling weightlessly for what feels like eternity.

"Daddy!" a little girl's voice calls distantly.

"Dad!" a boy's echoes.

Images of our kids' sweet faces stay at the forefront of my mind until something hard strikes against my temple and tosses them out of my consciousness.