SUMMARY:  Breakfast at Luke's.  Total fluff.  Unspecified futurefic.  General season five spoilers.

DISCLAIMER: Not my characters.

"Mom!"

Already grinning, Lorelai turns toward the door of the diner.  "Rory, you're here!"

"Of course I'm here," Rory admonishes, pressing a kiss to Lorelai's cheek before dropping into the empty seat beside her mother.  "Congratulations."

"Thanks.  And I just meant that it's early," Lorelai explains.  "The party that I'm not supposed to know about doesn't start for another ten hours or so, am I right?"  She smiles sweetly at her daughter and bats her eyelashes.

"You're impossible," Rory tells her.  "Can you at least pretend you don't know about the party?  For Sookie's sake?"

"Sure, but you should know better than to enlist her help with this kind of thing.  I love Sookie, but she can't lie to save her life," Lorelai answers, but her gaze strays behind the counter to Luke, who's having a hard time not staring back.  "You should have heard her sad attempts to find out what Luke and I have planned for tonight without actually asking."  Lorelai gives him a little finger wave, just because she knows what it does to him.  "You might want to tell her that 'I just wanted to make sure my palm pilot works' won't fly until she actually buys a palm pilot."

Grinning, Rory shakes her head.  "You two are disgusting," she says, but she can't sell it.

Lorelai plays dumb.  "Sookie and I are disgusting?"

With a snort, Rory says, "You and Luke are disgusting."

"Are not," Lorelai counters childishly, giving Luke an exaggerated wink and a big, blown kiss for her daughter's benefit.  Luke rolls his eyes and disappears into the kitchen.  "He's a little shy," she deadpans.

Rory shrugs out of her jacket.  "Do we have plans for the day yet?"

Lorelai's mood falters.  "Emily and Richard got me a day at the spa.  I'm not sure what the hidden meaning is there."

"Maybe they just figured you'd be stressed and they wanted to do something nice for you," Rory suggests.

"Maybe," Lorelai answers eventually.  She's speaking to her mother again, but only about unimportant matters.  Or politics, because Lorelai certainly does enjoy a good fight every once in a while, especially when said fight doesn't involve pointed remarks about her life choices.  To her relief and annoyance, Rory is still playing the role of Madeleine Albright in this particular ceasefire negotiation, except without the really unflattering haircut.  "So," Loelai says, blithely changing the subject, "anything in particular that I need to do?  Any specific time I need to be out of town for the party preparations?"

Before Rory can answer, Luke arrives at their table with his trusty order pad and another cup of coffee.  "Hey, Rory," he greets, patting her on the shoulder.  The way he treats her daughter always floods Lorelai with warmth -- he's just such a good guy.  "Anything to eat?" he asks Rory.

"No, this is good, thanks," she says, sliding the coffee closer and reaching for the sugar.  "And congratulations, by the way."

Luke grins.  "Thanks."  He glances at Lorelai.  "Your pancakes will be out in a minute."

"Thanks, babe," she answers, and for a moment, they smile stupidly at each other.  Rory sits back and watches with a bemused expression.  Lorelai can tell her daughter is soaking this all in for later mocking opportunities, but she can't bring herself to care.

When Luke finally drags himself away from their table, Rory studies him, her brow furrowed.  "Something's different," she says.

"Yeah," Lorelai answers, and she feels incandescent with happiness, like everyone around her should probably be wearing shades or they might get burnt by the sheer force of her ridiculous joy.  Oh, sure, it's stupid and clichéd and Lorelai would never actually say any of it out loud (especially not within earshot of Rory), but she does feel lit up from the inside.  If it weren't so great, it would probably be a little scary.  "My hand weighs about three pounds more than it used to!"

"No, something's different about Luke," Rory clarifies, tilting her head to the side and examining him.

"He's smiling a lot," Lorelai observes, even as Luke glances over at them again, this time looking a little perturbed when he finds both Lorelai and Rory staring at him.

"Well, yeah, but that's not--Oh!" Rory says, sitting upright.  "His scruff is... less scruffy.  He's almost clean shaven."  She sounds positively scandalized, and Lorelai examines her man critically.  She didn't think the difference was that obvious.  After all, he's still got the scruff.

Rory turns an inquisitive look her way and Lorelai tells herself to stop remembering the feel of his scruff under her tongue.  It's a little hot in the diner, and she wonders if her face is flushed.  "Ah," Lorelai answers noncommittally.  She takes demure sips of her coffee, her eyes on the table.  Maybe Rory will just note the facial-hair oddity and move on.

But Rory is Rory, and that sharp focus is fixed on her mother, now.  "'Ah' what?" she demands, sounding skeptical, as if she suspects Lorelai of holding Luke down and shaving him against his will.  Wow.  And that mental image is not helping Lorelai's ability to focus on her daughter's inquiry, which proceeds to: "Why is Luke almost clean shaven?"

Damn.  Lorelai hadn't bothered to come up with a decent cover story, so she simply points out, "He'll be appropriately scruffy later in the day."

"What does that mean?" Rory asks, glancing back at Luke, who disappears into the kitchen.

"Well, if you must know," Lorelai says, primly setting her coffee mug down on the table as she tries to summon the appropriate words, "the scruff can be a little..."  She shrugs, frustrated, and explains in a low voice, "It chafes, okay?"

Rory blinks.  "Mom!"

"Well, it does!" Lorelai hisses, leaning across the table so Miss Patty won't be able to hear her from four tables away.  "My cheeks were red and irritated all the time, and I looked like some downtrodden clown who misapplied the red cheek paint!  Plus it hurt, and we won't even discuss other areas--"

"Mom, please," Rory interrupts, eyes wide with horror.  "I beg you not to finish that thought."

"So we made a deal and he shaves at night before--"  Lorelai cuts herself off this time, waving a hand in the air in lieu of saying the words, "and then by morning, he's got enough scruff to make it through the day without anyone noticing.  Anyone until *you*, Microscope Girl."

Slightly traumatized, Rory whispers, "Wow.  That is way more information than I ever needed."  She pauses, then crinkles her nose.  "Microscope Girl?"

"It's your super power.  You scrutinize perfectly normal everyday things until you wring an explanation out of someone," Lorelai shoots back.  "And you asked," she adds, slightly defensive.  "Please don't tell him I told you that."

Before Rory can answer, Luke appears with Lorelai's breakfast.  "Chocolate chip pancakes," Luke announces, then looks back and forth between the two of them, clearly suspicious.  "Something wrong?"

Rory glances at him and quickly looks away.  "Nothing," she answers.  "We're fine."

"You sure you don't want anything?" Luke asks her, starting to look a little worried now.

"I'm good," Rory answers.  She looks at him askance, offering a smile and a soft, "Thanks."

"Okay," Luke answers, glancing at Lorelai with his eyebrows raised in question.  She smiles and waves him off, but she can tell he's going to ask questions later.

"Hey, kid," Lorelai says, cutting her pancakes into bite-sized pieces, "what say we take this gift certificate to the spa and get two half-days of pampering?"

Rory sips her coffee.  "Can we get some sort of hypnosis to wipe your little scruff confession from my memory?" she says, only half-kidding.

Lorelai's grinning again.  "Sorry," she chirps, sounding anything but sorry.  Whatever fleeting embarrassment she may have felt is gone already, unable to withstand the constant onslaught of glee and merriment.  "I'm too happy to keep anything to myself."

"Just FYI," Rory says, patting her mother's arm, "for sex-related stuff, Sookie is your go-to confidante, okay?"

Lorelai tilts her head and pretends to consider her daughter's advice.  "Okay," she agrees finally, using her best put-out tone.  Too bad she's still grinning, which probably ruins whatever guilt-inducing effect it might have had on Rory.  "So the spa?"

"Sounds good," Rory agrees.  "And we need to be away from Stars Hollow around seven tonight."

Lorelai bounces a little in her seat, wondering just how crazy the party will end up being.  "I'm sure we can do that."  She drums her nails on the table, staring at her daughter expectantly as she chews her pancakes.  "Okay," she blurts, "I can't believe you haven't fawned over it yet.  Have I taught you nothing about being a girl?"

Laughing, Rory checks her watch and turns to the counter.  "You win, Luke," she calls, to the amusement of the entire clientele of Luke's Diner.  "She didn't make it ten minutes."

Smirking, Luke lifts his hands in a "what are you gonna do?" gesture, then disappears into the kitchen again.

With a gasp, Lorelai sits up straight and points an accusatory finger at her daughter.  "You wagered on this?"

"Of course," Rory answers, holding out her hand.  "C'mon, let's see it."

Lorelai crosses her arms and tries to glare at her daughter.  "And when, exactly, did you make a bet with my soon-to-be-former fiancé?"

Rory snorts.  "Last week," she answers, "when he showed up in New Haven to ask for my blessing."

Stunned, Lorelai sits back in her chair, her eyes misting over a little.  Because -- "He what?"

Rory's expression grows serious.  "He didn't tell you?" she asks.  Lorelai simply shakes her head, and Rory reaches across the table and to grab her mother's hand.  "He stopped by and said he felt like an idiot but he knows that I come first for you and that he wanted to marry you but he needed to know that I was okay with it first."

Lorelai is too choked up to answer, but she lifts her free hand to her eyes and wipes away the threatening tears.  "Wow," she manages, her voice rough with emotion.  She checks her fingertips to make sure she didn't smear her mascara, cursing her stupidity for wearing eye makeup in the first place.  It's only breakfast and she's already worried about looking like a raccoon.

"Yeah," Rory answers cheerfully.  "You got yourself a great guy, Mom."

"Don't she ever," Babbette interjects, leaning over to give Lorelai's shoulder a healthy whack.  "We're all proud o' ya, babe, for tamin' that one."

"Taming Luke?"  Miss Patty raises her eyebrows in disbelief.  "Luke's already been married once."

"Don't remind me," Lorelai mutters.  But reminders of Nicole only bother her a little bit these days, way back in the dark corners of her mind, where a voice that sounds, ironically, like her mother points out all the ways in which she's not nearly good enough for a man like Luke.

"We should be proud of Luke," Miss Patty decides, "for convincing this one to settle down."

"Technically, I think I proposed first," Lorelai argues.

"You did?" Rory asks.

"Well, sort of," Lorelai backpedals.  "I told him he could move into the house as soon as he made an honest woman out of me."

"Lorelai was a little tipsy at the time," Kirk pipes up, turning around on his stool to join the conversation.  "She snuck a flask into the movie theatre and they were watching The Philadelphia Story when the conversation took place."

"Kirk!" Lorelai sputters.

He gives her that frustratingly blank look and shrugs.  "You talk very loudly when you're drunk, Lorelai."

Luke appears in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning.  In a single sweep of the diner, he takes in the participants of the conversation and discerns its subject.  "Aw, geez," he mutters, and turns right back around, disappearing into the storeroom.

Laughing, Lorelai watches him flee and then turns back to Rory.  She lowers her voice, squeezing her daughter's fingers.  "And, honestly -- you're okay with this?"

Rory rolls her eyes.  "Mom.  It's Luke.  You're happier than I've seen you in my entire life, and you seem..." she shrugs, "I don't know, settled."

"Settled," Lorelai echoes, feigning outrage.  "First, Miss Patty says I've been tamed and now you claim that I'm settled?  That's it!  Let's go knock over a liquor store!"

"Or," Rory suggests, shaking her head at her mother's antics, "we could just go to the spa."

"Or that," Lorelai admits, clapping her hands in anticipation.  "So we really have your blessing?"

"Of course," Rory answers seriously.  She tugs her mother's hand across the table and holds it there.  "Now let me see this thing."

Lorelai stares at the ring on her finger and there she goes with the idiotic smiling again.  The ring is much simpler than anything she used to picture when she was young and surrounded by expensive, sparkly things.  She never would have expected to adore something so austere.  But this is the diamond that Luke's father gave his mother, and this is the simple, elegant setting that Luke chose for her, and it's so beyond perfect that Lorelai feels like she might explode with happiness.

"It's beautiful," Rory decides, carefully touching the diamond with her fingertip.  Lorelai told her the history during their tearful, laughter-filled phone call the night before, so she doesn't bother to repeat it.  Somehow, she knows Luke doesn't want the entire town in on the ring's significance, and she likes having something of their own, something just for their family.

"It is," she agrees.  "So are you ready to blow this frozen banana stand?"  Rory squints at her in confusion and Lorelai sighs, "Arrested Development?  Do you never watch TV at Yale?"

"Mom, it's nearly finals.  I'm a little busy."  She tilts her head toward the door.  "Let's go."

Lorelai takes a final bite of her pancakes, chases it with a gulp of coffee, and then grins at her daughter.  "Mommy's gotta go say goodbye to someone.  Maybe you should wait outside."

Nose wrinkled in exaggerated disgust, Rory stands and backs quickly toward the door.  She pauses to wave goodbye.  "See you later, Luke."

"Bye, Rory," he answers, turning his gaze to Lorelai.  His smile widens when she crooks a finger at him.  "Lorelai," he admonishes, but his heart isn't in it as he follows her willingly into the back room.  "We shouldn't--"

She launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with all of her pent up emotion.  His hands land on her hips and slide up her spine, and then she can feel the old cigarette machine jutting into the back of her thigh.  She pulls away, breathing hard, and grins up at him.  "You asked Rory for her blessing?"

Luke actually blushes a little, his gaze skittering away from hers.  "I hope that's okay.  I mean, I know it's pretty old-fashioned to ask the woman's family--"

"I love that you asked her," Lorelai tells him, pressing soft kisses along his scruffy jaw.  "I love you."

"Love you, too," he answers, relieved.  He tilts his head to the side, allowing her better access, and she can feel the rumble of his words against her lips when he asks, "Do I really have to go to the party tonight?"

Lorelai pulls back and raises an eyebrow.  "The party that the town is throwing in our honor?  The party that Sookie and my daughter threw together in less than a day because they love us and they're very happy for us?  That party?"

Luke sighs.  "What time do I need to be ready?"

Grinning, Lorelai says, "Seven-ish, I think.  I'll call you when I'm on my way over."  She kisses him soundly again, and then reluctantly disentangles herself.  "Now, shoo, Diner Guy.  You've got customers."

The edge of his mouth quirks upward.  "They can wait."

She happily allows him to detain her another couple minutes before stepping back and giving him a look.  He reaches for her again and she smacks his hands away, then waves her arms around in the air between them.  "This is my dance space, and this is your dance space."

Luke stares at her blankly.  "What?"

Lorelai's jaw drops.  "Dirty Dancing?  Please tell me you've at least heard of it."

With a heartfelt groan, Luke shakes his head.  "Do I really have to see it?"

"Oh, we're gonna have a triple-feature this weekend," Lorelai assures him, wrenching the door open and keeping carefully out of his reach.  "Dirty Dancing, Lambada, and The Forbidden Dance."

"Lorelai," he protests, but she can tell by his tone that his protests are just for show.

"And if you're a good boy," she tells him, using her sultriest voice, "maybe -- maybe -- we will cap off the night with Dirty Dancing II:  Havana Nights."

He makes a face.  "There's a sequel to Dirty Dancing?"

She smirks, heading for her table to grab her jacket.  "Scary, isn't it?"

Luke takes his place behind the counter and watches her sashay toward the door.  "Call me later."

Lorelai opens the door and turns back, pointing a finger at her fiancé and doing a really poor imitation of Patrick Swayze.  "Nobody puts Baby in a corner!"

Luke just gives her a baleful look, and she starts to laugh, delighted that she's going to be able to pester and harass and irritate him for years.  For life.  The thought makes her shiver, and her smile softens.

The edge of his mouth turns up in response, and he gives her a little wave before turning away to hide his happiness from the town.  Lorelai exits the diner and finds her daughter leaning against the stupid traffic light post, looking amused.  

Rory checks her watch.  "Took you long enough."

"Only nine years," Lorelai answers, slinging an arm around her daughter's shoulders.  "Now let's talk dresses.  I'm picturing you in something in a lovely Pepto-Bismol pink."

"Mom!" Rory protests, but she's laughing.

"Maybe with a giant flower on your ass," Lorelai continues.  "Something very Sixteen Candles.  Oooh!  We can find two completely hideous pink dresses and sew them together randomly until you're Pretty in Pink."

"You are a cruel, cruel woman, Mom."

Lorelai squeezes her daughter closer.  "Damn straight."

THE END

Feedback cherished:  macha@healthyinterest.net