This Love

This Love

Disclaimer: I have the great misfortune of not owning Gilmore Girls or any of the references I may use.

A/N: This is in response to a challenge on Our Little Corner about a fluffy one shot, which has to be about Luke and Lorelai's future together.

This Love

Lorelai blinked, the sunlight beaming in from the window, directly into her eyes. She struggled to get up from the couch, wincing as a sharp pain hit the base of her spine. "Hey," she said groggily to Luke, as he entered the room, carrying a tray of something. "Why'd you let me sleep on the couch?"

"I didn't." He set the tray on the table. "I tried to get you up, but you attacked me."

She glared at him. "I did not!"

"Did." He held out his arm. She ran her fingers over the five, evenly spaced gouge marks lightly.

"Oh, wow. I did." She gave him the classic pout. "Sorry?"

"That convinced me." He kissed her. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Lorelai craned her neck to see the tray. "Is that breakfast? Chocolate-chip pancakes and coffee?"

"Here." Luke thrust the tray at her.

"Mmm." Lorelai had latched on the coffee. "No whipped cream?" She looked hopeful, and then sighed. "Never mind."

Luke watched her pad out into the kitchen, knowing exactly what she wouldn't find. A few slammed cupboard doors, he held his breath and - "What did you do with my whipped cream?" Lorelai had her hands on her hips, a fearsome glare that was usually accompanied by a desperate cry for coffee. This time, it was a desperate cry for whipped cream. Luke tried to keep his smirk inside.

"I threw it out."

"Luke! You don't throw out my whipped cream! Ever! That's like telling Oscar the Grouch to get out of the trashcan! That's like telling Barbara Streisand to stop coming back after her seventy-seventh farewell concert! That's telling me that I can't have whipped cream when I want to!"

"It was empty, okay?" He sat beside her. "Besides, I'd rather have you alive for an extra ten years than let you have your happiness of thirty seconds over a can of chemicals."

"Don't say that!" Lorelai pretended to look aghast. "Whipped cream is not chemicals. Whipped cream is creamy goodness, which adds to any junk food meal."

"Fine. I'll add it -"

"To the list of things you're going to get right now." Lorelai produced a piece of paper, slightly crumpled, from her pants pocket.

"I'm spending today getting groceries?" Luke asked quizzically.

"Wait. No. Sit. I'll suffer." She dragged him back down beside her. "They're good pancakes anyway."

"Trying to soften my hurt pride, huh?"

She shook her head and swallowed. The sleepy look in her eyes was eclipsed by a sudden glow of happiness. "Five years today, right?"

"Right." Luke took her free hand. "Five years."

"It doesn't seem that long." Lorelai took another bite of pancake. "But it's never long enough."

"I know." Luke brushed a loose curl out of Lorelai's face. "Are we shooting for a hundred years?"

"You think we can live that long?"

"If you stop eating whipped cream and other crap, we'll get to ten years, at least."

"Hey!" She attempted to dig her elbow into his side, but Luke neatly moved out of the way, placing a restraining hand on her arm. "Not funny."

"Funny," he argued, leaning in to kiss her. She dropped her fork and offensive stature, fully responding. Her hand slipped around his back.

"Good thing that we sent Leah to stay with Rory for the weekend," she murmured, her eyes still closed, "because if we kick it up a notch and she was home, she might be getting her sex education a little early."

"Why don't we save the talk until she's at least thirteen or so?" Luke replied.

"Whatever you want, Dad," she teased. "How 'bout getting April or Rory to give the talk?"

"Pawning off our parental responsibilities on our other daughters?" he retorted. "Good plan."

"I knew you'd agree." Lorelai gave him a cross between a smirk and her patented pout, and glided out of his reach. "I'm getting more coffee. There's some still in the coffee maker, right?"

Luke groaned. "Normal people drink one, two, maybe cups of coffee in the morning. The Gilmores drink ten cups before ten o'clock."

"That's how I keep moving, Luke," she trilled, spinning on the banister. He smiled at her light, carefree actions.

"Coffee is your medicine, motivation, you worship it, whatever," he commented. "I know."

"God, I hope you know!" she called from the kitchen. "Everyone should know."

"Everyone knows," he said dryly. "You've been in Stars Hollow for how long?"

"Years and years," she answered, strolling back in, with world's largest mug of coffee. "Well, Rory's twenty-eight…you do the math."