Diclaimer: They're not mine

Author's note: This is my first Fanfiction on I've never posted before, so please let me know if I've left something important out of the heading.

This story is just something that i was thinking about. I'm going to say that it takes place around July between the 5th and 6th seasons...I sort of sidestepped the Rory issue. this is just about Luke and Lorelai and their relationship.

There's something in his eyes. It's always been there, this she knows, but over the past months it's become brighter, more obvious. She sees it when he smiles at her, dancing in the kitchen, twirling herself around in her pajamas while he cooks breakfast. It's there when he sweeps her up in his arms and waltzes with her while Sinatra croons over the stereo. It's there just before she falls asleep at night, and there when she wakes up. She can see it whenever see looks at him.

He makes her feel secure, the way he gathers her in his arms when she comes home exhausted, carrying her full wait on himself as he guides her to the couch. The way he holds her hand when they walk through the town and doesn't let go. The way his hand always finds the small of her back as they walk into her parents house, silently assuring her that everything will be ok.

He gives her life new meaning. She has someone to come home to each night. Someone to talk to. Someone to dress for. Someone to just, be there for. Someone who will be there for her. She finds herself trying to leave earlier so she can walk home with him from the diner, just to get those few extra minutes with him. He fills the void that she always tried to hide was in her heart. She'd tried, and failed to find a man to fill that void many times before. He is the only one who can.

She can't imagine her life without him now. She's lived that life. She lived it for almost 20 years, and then again only a few months previously. Those weeks were the worst of her life. Worse than every trip to her parents house and childbirth put together. She couldn't sleep. She could barely eat. Work was the only thing that kept her sane, and just barely at that.

She never wants to live without him again, and she knows she will never have to. He's there, he's always been there, all in. And finally so it she. For the first time in her life she is all in, completely and fully. She has no doubts or worries. No matter what comes their way, she knows they'll be able to roll with the punches.

She smiles now. True genuine smiles. No traces of sarcasm or thinly masked pain. Just her. Just happiness. She can't remember having smiled like this at any other point in her life. And while she wouldn't trade her life for anything, until this point she was always hiding. Hiding her feelings and her pain from her parents, hiding her worries from her daughter, and putting on a happy face even when there wasn't enough money to eat let alone buy clothes. Now she no longer has to hide. He knows her. Every facet of her being is etched in his mind.

They talk now. They've learned what not talking does, how it destroys them. Neither wants to have to climb back out of that hole, the one they've dug for themselves so many times. He tells her when he needs time, and she's learning to respect that. She lets him know when he's taking too much time. They fight, and they make up. She's learning to let him in, he's learning to open up, each accepting the other's faults. They know it will take time, years even, but they're willing to be in it for the long haul.

There's no place she'd rather be than in his arms. They fit. She can't explain it, but they fit together, he completes her, and she him. When he has early deliveries and leaves earlier than normal she wakes up from the loss of contact and cannot find sleep again. She's taken to doing paper work on these mornings. He didn't know that she woke up when he left until weeks later when he forgot his watch. He ran back after he'd opened, and found her at the kitchen table a glass of juice in one hand and a pencil in the other, brow furrowed as she started down at the page. What surprised him more than her simply being awake at that early hour, was the absence of the ever-present cup coffee that was always attached to her hand, almost as if it were an appendage. She simply smiled and told him that she was trying to cut back. She never ceases to amaze him.

One night he comes home to find her on the couch staring straight ahead. She doesn't turn when he walks into the room, but sits unmoving on the couch. He walks over to her and sits down on the coffee table in front of her. He searches her eyes, silently questioning her strange actions. She stares into his eyes.

"I love you."

It is plain and simple. She loves him. She knows that. She'd know it for a long time. She knows that he loves her too. But she realized earlier in the day that she's never told him so. She knows that he knows already, just as she understands his love for her, but she feels as though she must tell him. She's never told another man that she loved him, because she never has. He is the only one that she has, and will ever love.

His eyes shine. She can see the unspoken happiness in his eyes. She feels elated but saddened that she has waited this long. But all of her regrets are erased when she feels his rough hand on her cheek.

"I love you too."

She feels tears falling down her face as he kisses her. She is complete. They are complete. As they break apart he rests his forehead against hers and stares into her eyes. In each others eyes they can see everything that they will ever need or want. Together they stand up. He envelopes her in his arms and kisses her. There is no place she'd rather be than here, with him, and for the first time in her life she is whole.