Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls isn't mine. (Boy, that has to be the shortest disclaimer EVER...I think I should go check the record books...I wonder if there is some sort of award for this...A cookie, even?...Or...Actually, any kind of baked good would suffice.)

A/N 1: This fic is NOT based on spoilers...It's just a little idea I had...Ever since I saw it in WITS, I decided I really don't need an explanation for where Luke's tattoo came from...I can dig the whole mystery vibe...I would just like for them to mention it once, in passing, on GG...Please...Pretty please...with whipped cream and a cherry on top...Damn...Now I'm hungry.

A/N 2:Shout-out time...You know the drill...No, not the power drill I got at Home Depot...Oh, nevermind...Here goes...Gilmoregirl1979, thanks for everything...You rock!...Also, to my fellow members of the GG Support Group--"Facetious Queen," "Duck Girl," "#1 Buffy Fan," "Quote Man," and "Video Master,"--You all make me laugh and further my already ridiculous GG obbsession...At this rate, by next year, I'll need therapy.)

Title: P.S. I Love...Your Tattoo

It is a quiet evening in Stars Hollow. No elaborate town festival or function is in progress. No naked spectacle of Kirk's is taking place (although the night is still young, and he did eat two bean burritos, a deviled egg, and a box of Mallomars before he went to bed). In any case, nothing in particular is different about this night. Not yet.

Luke sits on Lorelai's couch, remote control in hand, flipping through channel after channel. He appears to have very little luck finding any sort of program on T.V. that does not pertain to Donald Trump, the bun in Britney's oven, or what color pajamas Michael Jackson wore to court today. He sighs at his lack of success. Lorelai is heard from the kitchen.

"Hey Luke…You want beer or some tea?...I have the peppermint kind," she says, as she rifles through the refrigerator.

Luke calls back to her, "Water's fine."

"That wasn't even an option," she responds as she opens a container from Al's, and slowly realizes that she shouldn't have. (At least not without the presence of a priest and a hazardous materials suit.)

"Fine…Then a beer," Luke says as he rolls his eyes.

"Uh…What's your second choice?" she inquires hesitantly.

Luke sighs. Loudly. "That was my second choice," he calls back

"Well, looks like those beer guzzling trolls have raided my fridge again…So…Tea or water?"

"Water…Water…Water," he responds impatiently.

"Geez…You only have to tell me once," she says and laughs a little to herself.

Luke shakes his head as Lorelai walks into the living room. She plops down on the couch, and places the bottle of water in his hand.

"Whatcha watchin'?" she asks as she gets situated next to him.

"Nothing…There is NOTHING on T.V…There never is…You have 562 channels, 559 of which are airing a stupid reality show where people eat some sort of rotten animal part and then throw up…If I wanted to see that, I'd let all the diner food spoil and feed it to Taylor," he rants in typical Luke Danes fashion. (If Luke is anything, he's consistent.)

Lorelai nods. "Sounds like a plan," she says and then watches him as he watches T.V. A smile plays on her lips. "Okay…So we've been dating for months now…I think I've earned the right to hear "The Tattoo Story," she says, switching subjects faster than J.Lo switches husbands.

"What?" he asks, confused. (Luke, although accustomed to this attribute of hers after years of enduring it, still occasionally needs a second or two to catch up to the new train of thought after the old train derails.)

Lorelai pokes his bicep. "The story behind the inkage on your arm," she attempts to clarify.

"Oh…No."

"Oh…Yes."

Luke shakes his head. "It's not important."

"It is to me," Lorelai counters sincerely.

"Why?"

"Because it's a part of you, and you are important to me. Hence, the tattoo is important to me," she explains, head tilted.

Luke smiles. "It's not a big deal….It's just a dumb tattoo."

Lorelai gasps. "It is not dumb. I like it…but that's beside the point. I'm just really curious about why you got a tattoo….You don't seem like the type."

"And what type is that?" Luke asks, raising an eyebrow.

"The type to get a tattoo."

"This has vicious circle written all over it."

"Hey…That would be a great name for a band—Vicious Circle."

"I'll write Rolling Stone," he responds dryly.

She nudges him. "So, tell me." (She's pulling the old topic switch-a-roo again, but now he is on to her.)

"No."

Lorelai shakes her head and sighs. "You know…I'm not quite sure why you still try to fight me on things…History should tell you that I always wear you down…and since history repeats itself, I think it's obvious which one of us will be winning the battle."

Luke gives her a half smile. "You do realize that I only let you win because you're pretty…Well, that and if I don't, you'll call the Health Department on me again."

"Oh my gosh…Will you just let it go?...I did that one time…ONE…and it was a joke…I can't help it if Mabel Wollingford of the Hartford chapter was born without a sense of humor AND the voice of a woman."

Luke takes a drink of water. "Yeah, telling them I had rats eating holes in my cheese was hilarious."

"Well…If you hadn't refused to give me that seventh cup of coffee…"

"You were already bouncing off the walls."

Lorelai smiles. "That's when I do my best work…But, your attempt at misdirection is lost on me, pal…Gimme the tattoo story," she says, poking his arm again.

"There is NO story," Luke states, as he rolls his eyes.

"There has to be…You didn't just wake up one morning and say, 'Hey, I think today I'll scar my body for life…Right after I buy some dental floss'."

Luke, knowing that Lorelai Gilmore could give the Energizer Bunny a run for its money in the persistence department, gives in, as he always does. (Did I mention that he's consistent?) "Ugh…Fine…I'll tell you the story."

"YES!" (She is victorious. The crowd goes wild.)

He starts slowly. "Okay…When I was twelve…"

"Oh my God…You got a tattoo when you were twelve!" she interrupts.

He looks at her like she is crazy. (But, when doesn't he look at her this way?)

"No…You wanna hear the story or not?"

She pats his arm. "Sorry…Continue."

"When I was twelve, my Dad took me to Hartford for one of those baseball memorabilia shows…I had a great time…He bought me this autographed bat, and then after the show, we stopped at this diner for dinner, and he told me that one day I would play for the Red Sox, and he would watch me hit my first home run…That day was one of the best days of my life."

"Aww, Luke."

"Anyway, when he died, it was at a hospital in Hartford…I left the hospital and was walking around the city in a daze…I somehow ended up back at the same spot where we had dinner that one night…but it wasn't a diner anymore…It was a tattoo and piercing place."

Lorelai's eyes widen. "No way!"

"Yeah…So, I walked in and got some pretty weird looks…Probably because I was the only one there NOT wearing a dog collar or eyeliner," Luke explains.

"You mean you didn't have on your 'Headbang if You're Horny' t-shirt?" Lorelai says, smiling devilishly.

"No…It must have been in the laundry," Luke responds. (He had gotten used to her Howard Stern mentality years ago. It was almost endearing now.)

"Damn…So, go on." (She loves when he plays along.)

"Right…I obviously wasn't thinking clearly because of everything, and so when the guy asked me if I needed help, I told him I wanted a tattoo."

"It's not like you had that many options…I mean…It was either that or a belly button ring."

"Lorelai."

"Sorry."

"Anyhow, I looked at this book they had and didn't really like anything, so I just picked this one…It was kind of different, and the diamond thing reminded me of baseball…Of course, afterwards I felt like a complete idiot and cursed myself for not, say, doing something less permanent like getting drunk."

"Or shaving your head." (Thus, completing the Uber-monk image.)

"I tried to pretend like it wasn't there and, you know, since I seem to like flannel, it's almost always covered up…So, not a lot of people know I have it."

Lorelai sits back a minute and reflects. "Hmmm…That's the tattoo story?"

"Yep…Disappointing, right?"

"I don't think they'll be making a Lifetime movie about it anytime soon, but I liked it…and I'm glad you finally told me," she adds, holding his hand.

"Yeah…I guess you earned it," he says and smiles at her.

"You bet I did…So, I think it's time for you to get another one."

"Oh, Really?"

"Yes…Like my face tattooed on your butt."

"That's a thought."

She pauses for a second. "Or…Ooo…I know…How about 'I Love Lorelai' right across your forehead?"

Luke is surprised at this, yet maintains the flow of the banter. "I think that would be painful."

Lorelai sees what he is doing. (She knows that he knows what she is thinking, and him knowing what she knows makes her know, more than ever, that this is the right time for them both "to know."---All of which probably sounded way less confusing in her head.)

"Sure…It would be painful…but true, right?" she inquires tentatively.

"Yeah," he reassures her.

(It is crystal clear that she wants to tell him, but it has to be just right.) "Good, cuz, I planned on getting a matching 'I Love Luke' one," she responds with a small smile.

Luke looks very relieved. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. (He probably knew that she loved him, but it was nice to have her say it. Now, that the mushy stuff is over, it is back to business as usual--The World Renowned Banter.) "Oh, you're getting a tattoo now?"

"I'm thinking about it," she nods.

"Well, stop…My idiotic, permanent scarring of flesh is enough for both of us."

"Don't say that…I love it…It's pretty."

"It's not pretty."

"Oh right…It's manly…Very manly…In fact, I think I just saw it spit and scratch itself."

Luke looks at her. "You wanna go upstairs?"

Lorelai laughs. "Ooo…Smooth segue there, Casanova."

He gives her a look. "I'm tired."

"I have a feeling you will be wide awake when you see what I'm wearing to bed," she says wiggling her eyebrows.

Luke stands up. "Is that so?" he inquires, smiling.

Lorelai joins him. "Yeah…I bought it today…It's pink."

Luke shrugs. "I like it better when you wear my flannel."

"I see…So, flannel turns you on?"

He leans in. "It's not the flannel," he says quietly.

"Aww…Luke Danes, I swear you say that stuff just to get lucky," she whispers, leading him to the stairs.

"I do not."

"Well, it works," Lorelai responds, climbing the steps, tugging his hand behind her.

"I know this," he says and follows her to bed.

The End.