Title: Summer Nights
Rating: PG (Just cause there's partial nudity)
Setting: That magical place that's the present, but has nothing to do with the show.
AN: Ok, so this is just a completely random scene that I wrote to celebrate my 2000th post at FanForum and is completely unrelated to my other fics. However, I hope you still manage to enjoy it.
It was one of those unbearably hot Summers that every other year seemed to hit Stars Hollow. He'd just finished closing up the diner and was on his way back home. Having spent almost the entire day working in the kitchen, he had longed for a chilled breeze or something to help cool him down. Sadly, the air remained completely still and the heat made it difficult to even breathe properly.
When he let himself into the house, he was far from surprised to find it dark and seemingly vacant. The heat, combined with a long day's work making him feel drowsy, he climbed the stairs, intending to at least attempt to sleep through the heat. Entering the bedroom, he spotted her lying sideways on the bed, sleeping, in nothing else but her undergarments, one arm nestled up under her pillow, the other lazily draping over her protruding stomach. He noticed that prior to going to bed, she had gone and opened up every window in the room. It had become a common thing with them lately. She opened the windows before going to bed and he closed them right before joining her.
After shedding his own clothes, he climbed into their bed, spooning closely to his wife and closed his own hand around hers. This earned him a disgruntled moan.
- Go away, you're warm.
- Missed you, too, he chuckled. - How was your day? You didn't come to the diner.
- Too warm, she mumbled. - Spent the day in the kitchen. By the way, the fridge's broken.
- How is the fridge broken, he asked, amused.
- No idea, she responded. - But it's broken.
- You leave the door open all day again, he enquired.
- Mhmm, she mumbled. - God, I hate Summer.
- I know, he muttered, sympathetically.
- I hate being pregnant during Summer.
- Know that, too.
- It's too frickin' hot, she complained.
- Want me to go get you a cold soda?
- Fridge's broken, she reminded him.
- The next time, we're timing it better, she told him.
- I thought you weren't gonna let me touch you anymore, he teased.
- And I'm sticking by it, she insisted. - I'm not letting you touch me anymore and we're timing it better next time. Oh, and by the way, I don't care what medical sensation we need to pull it off, but you're carrying the next one.
- Wouldn't that be a sight, he chuckled.
- I'm serious. If Arnold Schwarzenegger can do it, then by gum so can Luke Danes.
- Okay, he humored her. - If it's that important to you, then I'll carry the next one.
- I'll hold you to that, Mister.
- I bet, he murmured. - Now, go to sleep.
And like every other night this conversation took place, they remained spooning as they dozed off.