By NicoleMack

Four short months had passed since the Dragonfly Inn had held its pre-opening test run. Four months since Lorelai's personal life had been turned upside down. Between issues with her parents, her daughter and her ex-boyfriend, she had somehow managed to cross the friendship line with Luke, and become his partner; his girlfriend; his significant other.

The time had sped by, and before she had realized it, he was surprising her with a second bunch of flowers, this time as a gift to celebrate their making it through the first month together. That night marked another special moment in their romantic relationship, where they crossed that other, more significant line. The one that was impossible to cross back. They had honestly been surprised at the awkwardness of the moment. Having become so comfortable with kissing and touching one another, they had expected it to be easy, comfortable, almost familiar. But nerves had rattled both of them, and they had fumbled self-consciously in the safety of his apartment, laughing at their clumsiness. They gave up early on, deciding that it would happen naturally when they were ready, and they fell asleep in the small bed, his arms curved tightly around her.

Then, in the middle of the night, Lorelai awoke to the feeling of his lips pressing softly against the back of her neck; his fingers gently pushing her hair aside. She arched her back against him, her hand reaching behind her blindly to grab hold of him, and without another coherent thought, it was happening just as they'd expected it to; slowly, comfortably, sensuously. Their minds clouded over, as minds tend to do when feelings take control, and their bodies acted and reacted, touching and stroking and mingling. Clothes slowly disappeared, almost unnoticed, while moans escaped and gasps inhaled at the feeling of flesh upon flesh, of fingers upon the most sensitive of regions, of a joining so natural they wondered afterwards if they hadn't already done this in a previous life.

With the anticipation of that evening behind them finally, they embraced their newfound intimacy, rarely spending an evening apart unless it was to allow her time with her daughter, or because work was simply too time consuming. For the most part, nothing about their usual routine changed. She still appeared at the diner every morning for breakfast, though now sometimes it was just a short walk down the stairs. They still argued over her coffee consumption, he still berated her over her red meat consumption, and she still nagged him to death over the current town festival, or his complete lack of knowledge with her favourite pastimes, or his unwillingness to detach himself from the beloved blue baseball cap.

What did change was what they did together behind closed doors, or away from the town, or at the two festivals Lorelai had been so bull-headed about he had caved and reluctantly tagged along to. They held hands, they kissed in public (though Luke refused to let it go further than a chaste peck upon lips), they walked side by side with arms wrapped around each other, they watching movies together at home, but never seemed to be able to make it to the end, so distracting was the person beside them.

What Lorelai realized, one cool September evening, was that though their relationship had reached new levels of intimacy and attachment, she still hadn't learnt much more about him. She had expected that as his girlfriend, he would open up to her more about his past, that he would admit things to her that he may not have done previously. But none of that had changed. If she wanted to know anything about him, like why he was grumpy some mornings (it was usually the mornings after an evening apart) she had to nag to get it out of him.

They were seated together on the soft, worn leather of his couch, the TV turned onto whatever random movie TBS was currently airing, beers on the coffee table, and silence hanging in the air. By no means was it an uncomfortable silence, simply a silence that had allowed her mind to drift off and think about these things.

"Hey Luke?" she ventured, alerting his attention away from the movie.

"What's up?"

"How come you never talk about your past?"

He shook his head slightly, "not much to tell."

"Come on, there must be something interesting in the book of Luke History."

"Well what do you want to know?"

She opened her mouth to respond, only to realize she hadn't thought it out this far. "Um, I don't know."

"Well I can't just randomly come up with something. I don't know what you want to hear." He turned his gaze back to the television, ready to let the conversation end there, but he felt the couch move under him as she suddenly bounced excitedly.

"Ohh, we could make it a game," she exclaimed.

He turned his head, appraising her sceptically, "What kind of game? Because I am not about to get and up look like an idiot playing charades with my life as the topic of choice."

She was quiet a moment, her mind flicking through the endless possibilities. "Poker," she announced finally.

"How can you learn anything new about me by playing poker?"

"We'll make it interesting with our bets. Ohh! We could play truth or dare.. wait, no! Truth or Strip Poker!" She was practically leaping from the couch in her excitement, and Luke couldn't help but crack a smile at her glee.

"What the hell is Truth or Strip Poker?"

"Um, instead of betting money, we bet questions. And instead of taking a dare to avoid the question, we strip." He was concerned when he saw a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I won't say no to poker, but I don't know about the rest of it," he replied cautiously.

"Come on, it'll be fun! You can ask me anything you want."

He let a growling sigh escape, reluctantly agreeing. If it wasn't for that tiny part of him that was curious to see what happened, he never would have agreed. "I'm gonna need more beer."

"I'll get the beer, you get the cards," she instructed, jumping off the couch and moving quickly to the fridge.

It took a few minutes of rummaging through the top shelf of the closet, but he returned triumphant, taking a seat opposite her at the kitchen table. She slid an opened beer bottle towards him while he shuffled the pack.

"Ok ground rules first," Lorelai announced.

"Ground rules?" Mr Sceptic was back.

"Yeah. Like obviously, whatever you ask, you have to be prepared to answer yourself if you lose. No folding. No raising the bet more than once or we'll end up wasting perfectly good questions. And watches don't count."

"Huh?"

"As clothing. They don't count, so don't think you can avoid stripping by taking it off first."

"Fine. Let's go," he responded, quickly dealing out five cards each. They considered what they had, exchanged some for new cards and then Luke asked, "Ok, what's your bet?"

Lorelai considered it for a moment. "I'm gonna have to start from the beginning, so I want to know your first crush."

"What if I can't remember?" he asked quickly.

"Then you can say buh-bye to your precious hat."

He sighed, swigged a mouthful of beer and agreed. "Alright. I'll see your bet. What have you got?"

"Two pair," she replied, slapping the cards on the table proudly, "sixes and jacks."

Luke calmly placed his cards down, "Pair of fives. Congratulations," he said with a wry grin, leaning back and grabbing his drink. "You want the story now?"

"Hell yes," Lorelai exclaimed as she cleared the cards from the table, shuffling them for the next round.

"There's not a lot to it. Second grade. Danielle Scanlan. We would talk sometimes, join the same games in the playground. But I never really considered her my friend, even though I wanted her to be. Then just after winter break, her father was transferred to Texas or Arkansas or something. So it was her last day, and she came up to me to say goodbye and she started crying."

What did you do?" Lorelai asked, on the edge of her seat, enthralled with the story.

"The only thing an eight year old boy would think to do. I gave her my handkerchief."

Lorelai laughed at the image of Luke as a little boy, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. "You carried around a handkerchief?"

"My Mom made sure I had one in my pocket every day," he admitted.

"She sounds like a great Mom. I wish I could have met her," she said in a rare moment of seriousness.

Luke caught her gaze as he took another mouthful of beer, "Me too."

Busying herself with the cards, she spoke quietly, allowing an uncertainty to creep through her usual confident façade, "Do you think she would have liked me?"

Luke smiled slowly, picturing the fictitious meeting of his mother and girlfriend. "I think she'd probably call me crazy for picking you, but she'd love you."

"Why would she think you're crazy?" Lorelai grabbed her own beer, taking a sip as she waited for his reply.

"Because she knew me, and she knew what got to me, and she'd see immediately how easily you get to me."

"You mean how easily I can piss you off?" she teased.

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Alright, then lets see if I can win this round too. I'm raisin' the stakes mister, so be prepared!"

The game continued on, each winning and losing randomly, combining both stripping of garments (Luke's hat, plaid shirt and left shoe, and both Lorelai's shoes and jeans) and telling past stories. Many tales were shared, such as Lorelai's first kiss (with Jeremy Duncan in eighth grade, in the hall while at the school dance), the loss of Luke's virginity (in the back of his beloved truck at the drive-in with Jessica Martin), Luke's first run-in with the police (for stealing gum from Taylor's store on a dare when he was twelve and bored one summer) and Lorelai's worst experience involving alcohol (at fifteen, after fighting with her parents over being allowed out to a party, she snuck out anyway and drank herself stupid, ending up throwing up in the bushes by her front door, where her parents found her the next morning).

The stakes had heightened considerably since that first round, and both Luke and Lorelai had consumed more alcohol along the way, allowing their inhibitions to be completely forgotten. She was enjoying hearing him laugh so much, seeing him so quick to ask questions, so willing to share his tales. Some things he had flat out refused, lending evidence to the fact that he was in no way drunk, and would certainly remember it all the following morning.

Due to the effects of the alcohol, they had eventually agreed to give up on avoiding questions by stripping, and had decided to flat out ask for a garment to be removed in place of a question.

"Ok, I have a really good one," Lorelai laughed, grabbing her cards from where they were dealt, "I want to know one of your fantasies."

"Well, then this is a round I look forward to winning," he responded, carefully considering his cards.

After settling on their final hands, Lorelai went first, proudly showing off her full house, queen high. Luke's face paled slightly at the sight of her hand, and he placed his down, showing that he too had a full house, only it was jack high. Lorelai clapped and cheered, before moving her chair closer to the table, crossing her arms on the surface and leaning her chin on her forearms. "I have to get comfortable for this," she said by way of explanation.

Luke, on the other hand, pushed his chair back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his chin down, staring her down in mock contempt. "Am I going to get anything by admitting this to you?"

"Well, depending on what it is, maybe I'll make it come true."

He continued staring at her for a moment, contemplating how to begin. Finally, he stood, making his way to the window.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sitting up quickly.

"I can't look at you while I tell you this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's embarrassing."

"Luke," she spoke gently, standing and moving to his side, "come on, if you can't tell me, then who can you tell?"

"I didn't think you were supposed to tell anyone. I thought it was personal."

"But isn't it a good thing if by telling it, it can come true?" she asked, tugging on his arm and forcing him to face her. "Wait, it is about me, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," he stated, as though it were obvious.

"Good, just checking," she smiled, trying to put him at ease. "Please Luke? I really want to know."

He sighed, reaching a hand up to play with the soft curls of her hair, his eyes focused on what he was doing, avoiding her gaze. "It starts with you coming into the diner while I'm closing. The place is empty, and you seem to be aware of that already, even though you don't look around to check." His hand left her hair and began stroking the skin of her neck, up and down, and then across her collarbone. "You're wearing this amazing red dress. It's all soft and flowy, but it clings to your body in all the right places."

"Where?" she interrupted.

"Here," he said, moving his hand from her neck to rest on her hip, "and here," he continued, the hand now on her flat stomach, "and here," he slid his hand up, letting it curve around the swell of her breast.

Lorelai licked her dry lips, vainly attempting to keep her breathing under control. "Then what happens?"

"You don't say anything. You walk behind the counter and kiss me, and then you walk to the stairs and disappear behind the curtain, expecting me to follow. So I do, and when I get up here, you're already kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at me in that sexy, teasing way you do." His hands had moved down her side, stroking her waist for a moment, then moving around to her lower back, where his fingers made random patterns on the skin between her t-shirt and underwear.

"As I walk towards you, you stand up and unzip the dress, and it falls to the floor, and that's when I can see that you're not wearing anything else."

"Ooh, how very Sharon Stone of me," she grinned.

Luke ignored her, pausing in his description to concentrate on his hands, one moving up underneath her shirt, stroking her back, the other settled comfortably on her hip, his thumb flicking at the waist of her underwear.

"And then?" she prodded, anxious to get to the good part, so they can actually get to the good part.

"And then you start undressing me, and I try to help, but you push my hands away, so I just stand there while you unbutton my shirt, and once that's gone, you crouch down and unlace my boots and tug them off, and then you slide your hands all the way up my legs to undo my belt and pants."

Lorelai took a small step forward, her eyes closing to allow her imagination to picture his description. Her hand made its way absently to his chest, and then her body followed, leaning against him, savouring his touch, his words. She tucked her head into his neck, breathing him in, feeling the vibration of his deep voice against her cheek.

"You take everything off, and then.."

"Even your hat?" she murmured in question.

"Uh huh, and you take my hand and pull me towards the bed, and then I can't resist anymore, and I grab you and kiss you and we fall onto the bed and we make love."

"Mmm, it sounds perfect. And I don't say anything?"

"Not a single word."

Silence fell over the couple as they allowed their hands to explore one another, his reaching higher under her shirt and down over the flesh of her rear, then down her thigh to tug her leg up and around his hip; hers sliding up the front of his t-shirt over his stomach and chest, while the other hand gripped tightly to his waist to keep her balance. His kisses began at the base of her neck, moving up to her ear, then across her jaw until finally, his mouth covered hers, and she gasped a breath as their tongues met and tangled.

When they parted momentarily to catch their breath, Lorelai whispered, "I just thought of something else I want to bet."

"What's that?" he asked, distractedly pushing her hair back to once again gain access to her neck and shoulder.

"If you lose, then you get rid of the shirt," she replied. Immediately, he broke apart from her, leaning back and swiftly removing the t-shirt from his body.

"I think we've played enough poker for one night, don't you?" He pulled her back into his arms, confirming his question with a return of his mouth to her skin.

"But I still have questions," she half-heartedly complained.

"So ask."

"Later," she decided, guiding them both clumsily to the bed, "I need to live out that last part of the fantasy first."

In the darkness of late night, they lay quiet, Luke on his back, one arm bent behind his head; Lorelai on her stomach hugging a pillow to her chest, her head turned towards the edge of the mattress. Neither was asleep, yet they weren't admitting they were still awake.

The evening's activities had certainly tired them out, but while they had been lying sated and exhausted, their minds had begun to wander. Luke looked over to her, watching her back rising and falling with each breath to judge whether she was really awake. Then, he surprised her when he asked, "What are you thinking about?" He reached over, rubbing one hand over her back as he pressed a kiss against her shoulder blade.

"My questions," she responded simply, rolling over to face him. "I didn't know you were still awake."

"Can't sleep."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. My mind doesn't want to shut off for some reason," he replied. Rolling onto his side to face her, he propped his head up by his hand. "Ask me the questions," he requested.

Lorelai mirrored his position, reaching her free hand out to trace the contour of his bicep. "I was just wondering about what you said, about your mother thinking you were crazy for picking me. Why did you pick me?"

"I didn't really have much of a choice," he said with a smile, "You come into my diner every day, bugging me for coffee. How could I possibly resist your charms?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, silently demanding a serious answer.

"There's not one specific thing. I spent years getting to know you as a friend, and from time to time I came close to asking you out, but I didn't know how you'd react. It wasn't until around Liz's wedding that I realized how much I counted on seeing you every day, and how badly I wanted you to not go home at the end of the day."

Lorelai curved her hand around his neck, leaning in to press a thankful kiss on his lips. "I should get you drunk more often," she grinned.

Luke chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Why is that?"

"Because you talked more tonight than Patty and Babette did the day they found out about us."

"You're funny, you know that?" he responded, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Yeah, I know, but that's why you love me."

He silenced any further words from escaping when he rolled over, pulling her on top of him and encircling her in his arms. He had realized he wasn't that tired after all.

Lorelai stayed in the diner for a long breakfast the next morning, and returned after work for dinner. She wasted a few hours at the counter, talking to Luke while he worked, watching him through the doorway when he went into the kitchen, following him when he headed to the storeroom. When the clock made it to eight, she up and left with barely an explanation, no comment on whether he should head over to her house once he was done, or whether she was planning to return.

Luke had resigned himself to the idea of an evening alone as he swept and mopped the floor. Just as he had finished putting the chairs on the tables and stepped behind the counter, the bell above the door jingled, signalling an arrival. He turned to see who was there and immediately froze in shock.

Standing in front of the now closed door, she allowed a satisfied smile to cross her lips at his reaction. It was exactly what she'd been hoping for. She lifted one hand to her chest, letting her fingers trace the edge of the soft crimson material down from her shoulder to the apex of the v between her breasts, then over the full mound, where the fabric was stretched tight, down her side to her hip, then up over her stomach. She never let her eyes leave his, and she stepped forward, slowly moving towards him as her hand continued to move over her body. The dress flared and flapped with each step, floating down to rest against her legs when she stopped in front on him. While wrapping one hand around his neck and pulling him in for a breathtaking kiss, her free hand lifted his to cup her breast, before sliding it down to her hip and across her stomach, reminding him of exactly where his hand had been the night before, as he described her outfit. She broke the kiss and stepped around him, walking confidently towards the curtain that hid the stairs.

Pausing, she looked over her shoulder at him, flashing the smile that she knew would turn him into her willing slave, and then disappeared through the doorway, stopping halfway up the stairs to listen for the footsteps she was sure would follow.

The End.