A/N: This is "The Danes Family Album," the sequel to "The Gilmore Handbook". Inspired by a little request from ggsoccerfan512, this fic is looking like a long one, yay! If you haven't read "The Gilmore Handbook", it's okay, you don't NEED to, but… you should, because in my opinion, it's fantastic. Now, on with the story!

Luke opened the door to the house and took off his jacket. It had been an extremely long day at the diner and he was ready to get home. He was awfully glad Caesar was opening the next morning, because the 'do nothing' day Lorelai had jokingly suggested earlier in the week was sounding better and better by the second. "Lorelai?" he called.

"I'm up here, my hunka hunka burnin' love!" she replied from upstairs.

He shook his head, softly chuckling at her comment, and walked up the stairs to find Lorelai sitting on the bedroom floor. The room looked like it had exploded. There were boxes everywhere, and miscellaneous items scattered across the floor. Lorelai seemed to be going through boxes marked "Luke." He took a deep breath. He wasn't intending for the contents of the boxes to be found right away, because he knew, much like her "Gilmore Handbook," he would have to sit and explain things to Lorelai. "What possessed you to look through all these boxes?" he finally asked.

She shrugged. "I was looking through some of your stuff, you know, trying to get you organized…"

Luke gave her a pointed look. "You? Organize? What sort of weird brain switch happened here while I was gone?"

Lorelai pouted, motioning to her stomach. "In case you've forgotten, I'm pregnant. Pregnant women get crazy when they're bored. You recall the cross stitching extravaganza of month seven, I presume. Anyway, we like to 'nest,' as some call it. Personally, I just think that's an odd term. I think that it reminds me of birds. So, getting to my point ever so quickly, I was bored, decided to go through things in your boxes, and I found this," she said, holding up a huge photo album. "I haven't looked through it yet, but I really think I want to. That is, if you'd allow me, and share it with me. Sorry I went through your stuff."

She handed Luke the album and he stared at the cover. Immediately he recognized the album as the most comprehensive his mother had put together before she passed away. He could remember the day she started it.

"Luke, will you hand me the scissors over there, please?" Amy asked.

Eight year old Luke walked the scissors over to his mother. He stood beside her, watching as she placed the pictures exactly how and where they needed to be placed. She never put something in an album haphazardly… she stared at the page, deep in thought, before putting a picture down. She would often rearrange them before placing them permanently. He'd seen her do it hundreds of times, but for some reason he never stopped to watch until that moment.

"It's interesting, isn't it?" she asked as she noticed him standing there.

He nodded. "Who are all those people?" he asked, pointing to the pictures.

Amy smiled. "These pictures are pictures of our family. Our extended family, our real family… they're all in this book. Promise me that you'll keep pictures in this album when you grow up?"

"I will," he said, looking over his mother's shoulder.

"It's very important to keep things like this, Lucas. It makes you remember the people you love, and all the good times you had with them, even when they're not around anymore. And don't forget to tell stories about people in the book… it's good to tell people about your family. I'll make one for your sister, too. You'll each have one to share with other people. How does that sound?"

Luke nodded. "That sounds good," he said.

Amy kissed Luke on the forehead. "Now go outside and play baseball, don't stay in here watching me. It would get rather boring for you after awhile, anyway. So, Luke, if you want to be on the Boston Red Sox someday, you've got to practice, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm going to go practice. I'm playing third base next game. See you later," Luke said, turning and walking out the front door, grabbing a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie on his way out.

Lorelai raised her eyebrows as she watched Luke look at the album. "And remember, I owe you. I really owe you, a lot. You sat through forty three amazing, silly, and somewhat quirky rules, all in one sitting, that describe exactly how to be a Gilmore. I can sit and listen to you tell me about stuff that's important to you. What's in the album?"

Luke opened the album and carefully flipped through the pages. "It's my family photo album. My mom started it and I've kept it up since she passed away. She made me promise one day, when I was seven or eight, to keep up with it. Liz has one, too, but I'm sure she doesn't even open it. Actually, she probably has no idea where hers is, knowing my sister as well as I do. She was never very organized, and she'd lose her own head if it weren't attached to her body."

Lorelai smiled, holding out her hands, hinting for Luke to help her get up off of the floor. He pulled her up and she stood beside him, looking at the cover. "Danes Family Album," she read, wrapping her arms around his waist. She looked up at Luke, giving him a sweet smile. "Luke, I really want to see your album! Show me the album," she pleaded, a genuinely interested look in her eyes.

Luke put his arm around her. "It's really nice that you want to know about my family, but you've probably had a long day. We can do this anytime," he said, kissing the top of her head and tucking the album underneath his arm.

She walked over to the bed and smiled. "Come on, Luke!" She sat on the bed, watching Luke put the items that she had scattered across the room back in their boxes. "First, you're cleaning up my mess, which makes me owe you even more. Second, I'm really interested in what you have to say. It's your family, Luke, which means it's my family, too. Luke, tell me about your family. Please?"

He took a look back at her, propped against multiple pillows on the bed. He walked over to her side of the bed. "You really want to look at the album?" he asked, handing it to her.

"Luke," she replied, clutching the album in her hands and patting the spot next to her. "I command you to sit next to me and explain the pictures to me," she teased.

He sighed, unlacing his boots and slipping them off. He climbed onto the bed and propped himself up next to her. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?" he asked.

"So excited," Lorelai squealed, clapping her hands together. "So tell me about your family," she repeated, putting her head on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath. "Well, this album was made by my mom. My mom was always a picture nut, she took pictures of every event we could ever imagine taking pictures of, and then some. Like I said, I kept it up after she passed. It wasn't nearly as good or as comprehensive as what she did, but still, I tried."

Lorelai smiled. "Do we get to see baby pictures? Little Lukey must have been so adorable," Lorelai gushed, reaching for Luke's cheek to pinch. "Or do we get to see really embarrassing pictures? Blackmail worthy, perhaps?"

He jerked out of her reach. "Why do you feel the need to see baby pictures of me? Or any other pictures you can use against me? I thought you were doing something nice for me?"

Lorelai shrugged. "Naturally I want to see what our kid's going to look like," she answered, looking down at her stomach.

"What if it turns out our kid's a girl?" Luke asked.

"A girl can still look like her daddy, Luke, jeez, apparently I have to teach you genetics. Where were you in sophomore biology?" Lorelai joked, playfully elbowing her husband. "And have you forgotten about April, who happens to resemble you slightly?"

"No, I haven't forgotten about April, and I don't know about Biology… I was probably reading something else stuck inside the biology book, pretending like I was paying attention when I wasn't learning a thing. Do you want to look at this or not?" he shot back.

She smiled. "All right, all right, open the album, show me the first page, let's get on with this! And the book inside the book thing? So cliche. Everyone knows that, I'm sure the teachers even knew."