So. Um, who remembers this story? Anyone? Yeah, even I had to refresh my memory using all my old IAF files.

Anyway, for anyone who DOES remember this oldie and wants to continue along with the adventure, here's a refresher on the backstory. This story was started towards the end of Season 5 — after the pregnancy scare, but before the boat-stealing or proposal. So none of the super-duper fantasticness that was Seasons 6 and 7 ever happened, including April or the marriage to Asshat. Rory is hunky-dory, with Logan, and working for the summer at the paper in Stamford. Luke and Lorelai are hunky-dory as well. And then I threw them all into this epic and made things not-so hunky-dory. But for more on that, you might want to review past chapters.

I still can't promise regular or frequent updates to this, but just know that it's still out there nagging me sometimes. Along with Kinofille, who, for her nagging, was made to beta this part :) Thanks for the help, Kino.

Luke dawdled at the diner as long as he could that night. As if the line of storms that passed through in the early evening wasn't enough to keep him from venturing outside, all of a sudden it was urgent that he reorganize the storeroom that very night, that he balance the books, that he mop the floor a second time on the off chance he missed some sort of hazardous spill the first time around.

Or, perhaps — perhaps — it was that he was feeling just a tad apprehensive about what awaited him at the house. But just perhaps…

When he finally did amble over to Lorelai's it was past eleven, so he was more than surprised to see, as he rounded the bend up to her driveway, that the house was still nearly completely lit up and that Lorelai was out on the porch. Lingering in the shadows, Luke could just make out Martha's tiny frame in Lorelai's arms. While he'd obviously seen Lorelai around the kids before, he surprised himself by finding that he was immediately struck by how natural she looked, just standing there, cradling Martha and whispering soothing words in her ear.

And for a moment, Luke was transported back to a scene — to a time — that he hadn't even witnessed in the first place. Lorelai, barefoot, in a pair of boxers stolen from him, a baggy t-shirt, and her hair swept up in a messy ponytail, looked far younger than her thirty-seven years, and in the soft yellow light of the porch, she could easily have been her sixteen year-old self, slowly rocking a young Rory back to sleep. It looked so right, though Luke couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult that life had been for Lorelai as a teenager; he wished he could retroactively help and make things easier for her.

But even knowing the child was Martha, and Lorelai thirty-seven years old, Luke was utterly mesmerized at the sight, and he crept closer, hoping to take in the scene further without disturbing the seemingly peaceful pair. But a small twig snapping beneath his foot, despite his attempts at stealth, was noise enough to catch Lorelai's attention. Her head jerked up, her eyes scanning the darkness of the lawn as she called out, "Luke?"

"Yeah," he replied, emerging from the shadows with a rather sheepish expression on his face. "Hey," he added, offering a tentative smile as he approached the porch. But as he neared Lorelai, he quickly began to realize that things were not quite as serene as they'd seemed from across the yard. He was definitely beginning to make out some rather anguished-sounding wails coming from Martha, and, getting closer, he could see that the baby's little face was bright red and her eyes wet with tears. Lorelai looked none too happy either, a fact confirmed by the anxious timbre in her voice as she raced across the porch to meet him. "Thank God you're here," she gushed, "She won't stop crying! I've tried everything. She was fine before," Lorelai explained hurriedly, her voice growing higher and her words coming faster the more agitated she got. "But the storms really freaked her out an now nothing is getting her calmed down, and I'm so fucking tired, and I just want this night to be over." She finished with a deflated sigh, her shoulders sagging even as she continued her futile efforts to soothe Martha.

Luke balked at the look Lorelai was giving him — that doe-eyed one, full of innocence and vulnerability that was in and of itself a plaintive plea of 'Luke, help. Please fix this.' But what could he do? He knew that look, and he relished being able to actually 'fix it' for her. This was where he was supposed to come running, tool box or thirty-thousand dollar checks in hand. But he knew as well as anyone that neither of those was likely to be much use in calming a fussy infant.

Feeling rather helpless, not to mention completely out of his element, Luke did the only thing he could think to do, placing his arm awkwardly around Lorelai's shoulders and pulling her to him with a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Hoping his meager actions would serve to calm Lorelai more successfully than she was calming Martha, he asked the only thing that came to mind. "What did you used to do for Rory?"

"Rory was an angel," Lorelai wailed, just barely louder than a particularly loud scream from Martha. "She always slept through the night. Half the time I thought she was literally dead from the Sudden Infant Syndrome thing because she was sleeping through the night so early. But even if she did wake up, all I had to do was hold her and that was enough. But it's not working with her," she cried, gesturing down to Martha. "I'm not Sookie," she stated in defeat. "She knows I'm not Sookie, and I know I'm not Sookie, but there's nothing I can do about that, sweetie, I'm so sorry," she whimpered, directing her final words to the baby. Facing Luke again, she continued, sounding ever more distressed. "And God, I'm just not Sookie! I'm not her mother! Not even just that — I'm physically not her mother! The poor kid keeps going for my boobs, and how do I explain to her that she's not gonna get anything out of there? And I don't even know how she knows they're even the same thing, because, seriously, compared to Sookie's, you practically have to send out a search party for these things. I tried a bottle, but she won't take it. She spits out the pacifier, and I don't know what else to do…" She trailed off, dramatically burying her face in the soft flannel of Luke's shoulder.

For his part, all Luke could do was continue stroking Lorelai's upper arm. Hell, he was overwhelmed just hearing the second-hand account of how things were going. Coupled with the persistent soundtrack of Martha's cries, it wasn't exactly making for a comfortable transition into the 'Davy and Martha' era. "Well, what did Sookie do for this, do you know?" he asked lamely after a moment. "Besides the, uh, you know," he cleared his throat awkwardly, stumbling over his words, "feeding… thing?"

Despite everything, Luke's obvious discomfort over the mere mention of breast-feeding was enough to elicit a weak smile of amusement from Lorelai.

Well, at least it was something, Luke allowed himself. But the smile proved to be only a temporary victory. It faded quickly as Lorelai shrugged helplessly, "I know she'd sit and swing on their porch swing with both of the kids, but we've got nothing like that here. The little automated swing is too different, I guess," she explained, frustrated, "because I tried that, and it's not what she wants. At this point, I'd drive to the freakin' school playground to use the swing set, but she'd just wake back up in the car on the way back home, and we'd be right here all over again." Lorelai finished weakly, sounding utterly exhausted and on the verge of tears herself as she shifted the still-howling Martha in her arms.

Luke, however, was suddenly feeling a little better about the situation. A porch swing he could do. "You have a porch," he offered, "I'll put in a swing." Who knew that tools and a little physical labor could actually be what helped quiet the kid down? Luke was actually quite pleased with himself; it'd give him something to do with himself that didn't directly involve the kids, and more than that, it would help out Lorelai and make him feel less the awkward, bumbling idiot of the kid-situation because he'd actually be doing something useful. Not that he was at all sure yet how involved he was expected to be in the whole debacle anyway…

But apparently, involvement on the swing-level, at least, was a good thing, for no sooner was the offer out of his mouth did Lorelai pull away from him, her eyes wide with delight. "Will you?" she cried gleefully. "Yay!" she giggled at Martha, "I always said this porch should have a swing anyway. But, oh. Luke…" Her voice faded out as she paused, her smile disappearing once again. "It's practically midnight. Even if you pull a Bob Vila first thing in the morning, it's not gonna do anything for right now." Martha echoed the statement with another appropriate wail.

Luke wracked his brain, trying valiantly to salvage the Luke-to-the-rescue feeling he'd been savoring and figure out some sort of ad-hoc swing stand-in.

"Rachel has a hammock," he blurted out a minute later.

The outburst was met, not unexpectedly with confusion on Lorelai's part. "And the top non-sequitur of the year award goes to…" she gestured to Luke jokingly. Rubbing Martha's back, Lorelai spat out a "What?" as her nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Rachel sent me a hammock," Luke clarified. "Not the stretch-it-between-two-trees kind, it's like a chair. Hangs from one spot. She sent it from Ecuador or Panama or something one time when she was off doing the picture thing. I dunno. I sure as hell never used it," he shrugged, "but it might work for her."

Lorelai let out a little shriek of relief. "Bless Rachel and her wandering-to-foreign-countries little heart," she sighed. "I'll try anything at this point. I'm so tired."

Luke shot a wary look at Martha, who was showing no signs of quieting despite Lorelai's fervent tried to shush and soothe her; he figured he'd better get moving and follow through on his word.

Only about fifteen minutes later, Luke was driving back, hammock, rope, and a ladder in the back of his truck. Thinking it over, he'd come to realize that he had absolutely no idea how sturdy any of the beams supporting the porch roof were, so simply typing the hammock to a tree branch looked like, at least in the short term, the safest option for the house, not to mention Lorelai and Martha.

Just another few minutes after arriving and he'd fastened the hammock to one of the large maples just in front of the house.

Lorelai, despite Luke's attesting that the hammock was secure and could support far more than just he combined weight of her and Martha, she insisted that he sit in it first to demonstrate its hardiness.

Of course, he should have known better than to allow himself to be duped like that. No sooner had he settled himself in the woven seat did Lorelai position herself directly in front of his knees. "So you say it can hold two, right?" she questioned only slightly dubiously.

"Yes," Luke replied, his single word laced with suspicion. Due suspicion, for the next thing he knew, there was a screaming, wriggling Martha being shoved into his arms. He protested immediately: "Lorelai, no. I can't…"

"Shh, you big wimp," Lorelai chided gently, "I'm coming too." And so as to not jostle Martha any more than necessary, she carefully eased herself down next to Luke, curling up tightly against him and entangling her bare legs with his. She reached for Martha, shifting the tiny child ever so slightly from Luke's awkward hold, and nestled her against her own chest where her body was pressed up against Luke's.

Once Luke was relieved of the sole responsibility of hanging onto Martha, needing no prompting, he took it upon himself to begin rhythmically pushing at the ground beneath his foot, causing the hammock to sway gently in the cool night breeze.

Between the slight swinging and Lorelai's constant soothing rubbing on her back, Martha quieted to mere whimpers within just a few moments. And not ten minutes later, the little girl finally succumbed to the exhaustion that she'd brought upon herself with her incessant crying.

"Oh my God," Lorelai breathed, her whispered sigh somewhere between relief and awe as she tilted her head to look down at Martha. "It worked. How much do I love Rachel and her super-duper magic hammock swing? That was absolutely amazing." And shifting to focus on Luke, Lorelai gazed up at him with wide eyes. "Thank you," she murmured sincerely, "Thank you."

Luke cheeks were tinged with just the faintest bit of pink as he scoffed in return, "I just had the damn thing; you knew what she needed."

"No Luke," Lorelai insisted, craning her neck and upper body just enough to not disturb Martha but still bring her closer to eye level with him. "Thank you," she repeated. "I mean, I know you're not thrilled about this whole situation. I don't want to force anything on you here." She shrugged, looking away, "You don't have to be doing stuff like this for them."

Luke's rebuttal began immediately, "Lorelai, it's not…" But it faded out just as quickly when it dawned on him that perhaps this was the time to clear the air a little, and that, perhaps his words should be a little more carefully thought out than a blunt contradiction of Lorelai's assumption. Falling silent, he let his gaze drift away from Lorelai as he focused instead on some random point among the softly moon-lit clouds.

So she thought that he didn't want anything to do with, well, anything. And maybe to some degree she was right — had she not been given custody, he wouldn't exactly have been first in line to take Davy and Martha in her place; he was hardly a 'kid' guy. But that wasn't the case — Lorelai did have them. And seeing her so upset, half-broken, fighting with Martha on the porch, practically crumbling under the weight of what she'd taken on after not even one full day, Luke wanted nothing more than to help her, regardless of what it took. He had to make her understand that, because, if he'd understood correctly, she didn't seem to quite get that yet. And as much as she may have tried to do everything on her own thus far, trying to convince herself — or everyone, for that matter — that if she did it on her own with Rory, she could do it again on her own with two more, tonight made it crystal clear to Luke that Lorelai was going to need some help here and there. And that she did actually want that help from him, even if she wouldn't put it in so many words.

"Look," Luke finally began again quietly. "I'm here. I have no clue what to do with or around kids, but I don't ever want you to think that I'm not gonna be here to help you," he assured her.

Lorelai remained silent. With her one hand still stroking Martha's back, she moved her free hand up behind Luke's head, massaging with her fingers and silently urging him to continue.

So he did. "I mean," he added diplomatically, "You've never had to deal with two at once before either. You may not do everything exactly right, and I'm sure as hell not gonna do stuff right, but I'm gonna help you when you need it." Gesturing down to Martha's tiny, slumbering form, he continued, "So far, the teamwork thing is working."

"Yeah, it is." Lorelai gave him a genuinely appreciative grin before tucking herself as tightly as she could in the crook of his arm

With Martha finally quiet, and Lorelai curled up against him, and some kind of understanding finally between the two of them, Luke had to chuckle at the scene from earlier. "How the hell was anyone sleeping through her before," he asked incredulously.

Lorelai smirked, explaining, "Well, Davy's upstairs, plus he's probably the most used to it out of all of us."

"But Rory's room is right there, windows open and everything," Luke pointed out.

"Hey," Lorelai laughed, "I told you, she slept like a corpse when she was a baby. Two decades changed nothing. When she's out, she's out."

Luke chuckled at that, still swinging their hammock slightly. Sobering a little, he spoke again, wondering aloud how the rest of Lorelai's day might have been. "So before the crying," he asked stiltedly, "How was everything?"

"Actually, pretty good," Lorelai replied, sounding half-surprised at her own words. "She just slept a lot, and Davy and I had a few delightful rounds of 'let's build towers of blocks and then knock them down.' And once Rory got home," she giggled, continuing, "She went nuts with him. She never really said anything, but I think she has that same parental grudge that all kids who never get a sibling or a pet have. I sure as hell had it," she added thoughtfully. "Anyway, Rory somehow got it in her head that now that Davy's here, he can be both. I just had this one on the couch with a bottle, and Rory was torturing him, just running circles from the living room to the front hallway, and he just chased her laughing the whole time. So then the pulls the reverse trick and scares the crap out of him by running right into him. And then," Lorelai laughed softly at the memory, "She goes completely out the door and the kid's just wandering in circles looking like 'Where the hell did the crazy lady go?'"

"Well, you were still there, right?" Luke interjected with a smirk, "He couldn't have been too concerned since he still had one crazy lady around."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes playfully, poking Luke in the ribs forcefully, "Hey now, be nice you."

He would have taken her attempt at a menacing tone seriously had her would-be threat not been wholly thwarted by a head-splitting yawn. "Okay, she's not crying," he stated, "We can't stay out here all night. Think she's okay to move?" he asked, nodding at Martha while Lorelai blinked, bleary-eyed.

"I think so," she replied, "She's been out for a while. And seriously, if I'm this tired just from dealing with her, she must be practically dead. She was the one doing all the screaming."

"So we should try and go upstairs," Luke ventured cautiously. "It's after midnight."

Lorelai apparently couldn't even muster up the energy to put together a verbal reply, instead just nodding in agreement as she carefully began to roll Martha over to Luke's chest. Once she disentangled herself from Luke and climbed out of the hammock, she reached for Martha, scooping her up from his arms and cradling her softly.

Luke followed, just behind the pair as they quietly crept up to Lorelai's room, making sure to not wake Davy. Watching Lorelai settle Martha into her bassinet, Luke had to muse, somewhat incredulously, over the past hour or so. So he hadn't known exactly what to expect from the first night, but he sure as hell hadn't been expecting to be hanging out in Rachel's old hammock with a baby on his chest.

But, surprisingly enough, he was willing to admit to himself as he climbed silently into bed next to Lorelai, what he'd gotten wasn't half bad.

~*~

Later that night, or early the next morning, depending on one's preference — Lorelai's was that, either way, no human should have to be awake at such a nour — Lorelai woke to the soft sounds of Martha whimpering again. Opening one eye to peer at her alarm clock, she sighed sleepily. 3:48. Super.

But as much as she didn't want to get up, she also didn't want Luke to be woken when he only had another forty minutes or so before he had to get up to get to the diner.

So she slid herself wearily from between the sheets, creeping over to Martha, who lay wriggling in her bassinette.

"Shh, shh, shh," Lorelai urged in hushed tones. "I'm comin', I'm comin'. You don't have to wake Luke up too. He's crankier than you when he doesn't get his sleep," she whispered down to Martha. "And we don't want that, now do we? No, we don't, kiddo, Lorelai giggled, reaching down to give Martha a little tickle under the chin, "No, we don't." With that, she scooped up the baby gently, cuddling carefully her to her chest. "Shhhhh," she whispered, ducking her face down to Martha's ear to soothe her.

With Martha securely in hand and already quieting a little, Lorelai tiptoed around the end of the bed and snatched up the conveniently placed diaper bag on the floor in an effort to make it out without bothering either of the males in the room.

She was successful in keeping Luke asleep; he kept snoring away. But just as Lorelai was about to duck out into the hallway with Martha, she heard a soft little voice from behind her.

"Go too?" Davy piped up, rubbing one eye sleepily as he clutched the edge of his crib with the other. And stretching his arms out in Lorelai's direction, he repeated, "Go?"

Lorelai balked in the doorway; she'd been hoping that Davy would just sleep through the quick excursion downstairs, and that she could just change Martha, give her a bottle for a bit, and then get back upstairs to catch another few hours of sleep. But the longer she hovered, weighing her decision, the more distressed Davy began to look. He stomped his little feet a few times with his lower lip trembling as he reached insistently in Lorelai's direction.

"Oh, fine," Lorelai whispered, giving in and heading hastily back across the room. She didn't want to risk Davy breaking out into a full-blown temper tantrum with Luke still sleeping. And the kid's little face was already verging on the red-cheeked, wrinkled nose look that always immediately preceded full-blown wailing. "Come on." She shifted Martha to her left arm, allowing Davy, with a little boost, to cling to her right side. With a sidelong glace at the still-sleeping Luke and a yawn, Lorelai exited the room and headed downstairs.

Once those first rumblings of sibling rivalry and jealousy had waned and he was convinced of the fact that Martha wasn't getting any special treatment that he wasn't, Davy actually remained subdued enough to sit still while Lorelai dealt with Martha's diaper. But once she'd changed his as well, he was fully awake and raring to go. She'd barely managed to fasten his diaper and rearrange his clothes before he's pulled himself to his feet and had toddled over to all his toys.

Martha, on the other hand, had cooperated nicely, and once her diaper was changed, was just fine with another round of sleeping. The bottle Lorelai had planned on giving her wasn't even necessary; as soon as she was placed in her little bouncy-seat, she was out like a light in no time. Davy, however, was in full-on up-'n'-at-'em mode, tossing toys around and scampering away from Lorelai at every chance.

After fifteen minutes or so of chasing Davy around and trying in vain to calm him down to the point where he might go back to sleep, Lorelai resigned herself to the fact that he was up for the day. Carefully relocating Martha's seat to the kitchen table, she managed to coax Davy into following her with the promise of Cheerios. Once Lorelai managed to wrestle him into a highchair, with a pile of cereal on the tray for him to play with, she rested her head sleepily on her forearm. With a yawn, she sighed. It was only the first day…

~*~

That was exactly the position Luke found Lorelai in twenty minutes later, albeit with a few Cheerios adorning her fanned-out hair. Davy just grinned at him as he entered the kitchen, and tossed another Cheerio onto the floor for good measure.

Luke wasn't quite sure what to make of the scene — was laughing at Lorelai inappropriate considering her falling asleep with the two kids there was probably not in their best interest? In any case, he allowed himself a slight chuckle as he reached to gently shake Lorelai's shoulder. He had to get out of there, and the more he weighed the decision, leaving Martha and Davy supervised only by a dead-to-the-world Lorelai and Rory — whose sleeping talents he'd just been informed of the night before — wasn't the best idea in the world. Adding a little more force to his shake, he whispered in Lorelai's ear, "Hey."

Lorelai's response was a classic "Mmph?" of confusion as she lifted her head ever so slightly off the table. "Huh?"

"Those the latest accessory?" Luke raised a skeptical eyebrow, gesturing to the stray Cheerios that had fallen from Lorelai's hair upon her movement.

A sleepy blink followed as Lorelai finally sat up straight, sending a small cascade of the oat-y 'O's to the floor. "Huh?" she mumbled again, looking ever more befuddled as she took in the scattered cereal and the two small children next to her. "Oh, no…" It eventually dawned on her. "Davy, you were supposed to eat those," she chastised the little boy, who just wriggled happily in his high chair in reply. Immediately stooping down to collect the Cheerios from the floor, Lorelai looked up over her shoulder sheepishly, offering Luke a weak apology, "Sorry."

"Hey, I don't care," Luke lifted his hands in surrender immediately. "They look good on you," he joked, before adding more warily, "I just thought —"

Obviously sensing his hesitation, Lorelai snapped her head up and eyed him curiously. "What?"

"Well," Luke posed his question carefully, not sure if he was treading on dangerous ground offering kid-rearing advice, "Are you supposed to, I don't know, be sleeping, when you're watching kids like that?"

His caution was apparently unwarranted, for Lorelai shrugged guiltily even as she offered a weak excuse, "I was just resting my eyes…" Pulling herself to her feet and heading in the direction of the garbage to toss the floor-tainted Cheerios, she let out a soft snort before turning back to Luke. "But I'll tell you one thing," she warned, shaking her finger pointedly in Luke's, and then Davy's, direction, "If he's going to be waking up every time she does, it's totally not going to work with them in the same room."

Luke waited expectantly, not one hundred percent sure of where Lorelai was going with that statement. What was the other option, stick the kid in a closet?

"I'll give it this weekend," Lorelai vowed as she continued, "Otherwise Rory's getting a roommate."

"Uh huh," Luke replied as he readied himself to leave for the diner.

As he gathered his hat and keys, Lorelai crept closer to Luke, approaching him with wide eyes and a sugary-sweet tone, "You're up this time almost every day, right?"

Luke took a pointed step back and eyed her warily. "Yes," he replied tersely, knowing he was probably just a breath away from getting talked in to something he most certainly didn't want to get talked in to. When Lorelai fluttered her eyelashes and opened her mouth to make her next advance, he cut her off before she was even able to utter a sound. "To go to work," Luke made clear. "And nothing else."

"But…" Lorelai spluttered in protest, gesturing behind her to the kids.

Luke did his best to glare menacingly.

"You're up anyway!" Lorelai whined in return. "If we move Davy," she then pointed out, slightly more diplomatically, "You'd just have to change Martha and put her back to sleep!"

At the word 'change,' Luke grimaced. Not a chance. "I don't do diapers," he declared.

"You could do diapers," came the sing-song retort.

"I don't do diapers," Luke repeated, his voice never wavering from a steadfast monotone. When Lorelai just grinned, batting her eyelashes once more, Luke protested further. "And even if I did, she's a girl," he twisted his face in discomfort as he unnecessarily reminded Lorelai of Martha's gender. "That's weird."

Lorelai shrugged. "As am I," was her initial reply. Her expression rapidly evolved into a wicked grin as she continued, lascivious tones evident in her voice, "No problems there…"

Rolling his eyes, Luke sent her a withering glare in response. "You know what I mean."

"Luke, come on," Lorelai wailed, "It's not like you're some sketchy guy with candy and pictures of lost puppies in a van at the playground. The only sketchiness involved is what's in the actual diaper."

"I don't…" Luke balked. He really didn't have much of an argument. It's not like he was jumping at the chance to change Davy in order to save Lorelai the weirdness of having to deal with a little boy.

Squatting down so that her face was level with Martha's, Lorelai batted her eyes dramatically. "Pretty please?" she begged, gesturing to the sleeping baby, "Look at this little face, you can't say no to her. Hell, look at my face," Lorelai added with a grimace as she stood up straight once more and gestured to her cheek. "Can you say Cheerio imprints? You don't want to see me like that every day, right? 'Cause I'm not a fan of waking up face down in a pile of cereal. You think I'm not going to turn into an extra from Night of the Living Dead if it's only ever me waking up for diaper duty?" As she spoke Lorelai inched towards Luke. Reaching him, she began running her hands over his chest coyly, delivering her last plea. "You're up anyway, and she went right back to sleep, I swear."

With Lorelai's nails scraping gently over the worn fabric of his flannel shirt, Luke could feel his resolve weakening. He really didn't feel comfortable with the diaper thing, but he also wasn't comfortable with letting Lorelai run herself ragged while he just stood by and watched it happen. "I guess…" he eventually muttered, hoping he wasn't getting himself in over his head.

Lorelai's eyes immediately brightened, despite the dark circles beneath. "Believe me," she promised happily, "It'll pay off for you if I have a little extra energy sometimes." She finished with an awkward wink as she let one hand trail downward from its previous resting place on Luke's chest.

As much as he may have agreed with her comment — or at least the insinuation, Luke's cheeks reddened and he swatted her hand away in deference to the small children in the room. He took a step back from her and stammered, "Oh, uh, and you still want me to look at porch swings, or you think the hammock thing is good enough?"

Lorelai shrugged as she bent down to collect stray Cheerios on the floor. "Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. That thing saved me last night," she said, straightening back up with a look of warning, "do not even think about touching it."

"Okay," Luke said, nodding. He lingered in the kitchen as Lorelai began rummaging in for a suitable breakfast for Davy; he had to get to work, but was reluctant to leave Lorelai after how the previous day had gone for her. Killing time, and though he knew the likely answer, after a moment he inquired, "You working today?"

"Not really," Lorelai replied, snapping the top of a banana. "Michel's been working with the kitchen guys to arrange to get resumes to, you know…" Her voice trailed off, the uncomfortable words not actually necessary. "I'll call him about that, and the lawyers about the memorial stuff… But yeah, otherwise, just me and them getting used to each other until Friday," she gestured to the kids behind her sheepishly. "We're not having any events again until next week, so I don't really have that much to deal with there yet."

"Right, right," Luke replied. He hoped the adjustment period would be enough, for her sake, to let Lorelai figure Martha out and avoid repeats of the previous night.

After a pensive frown, Lorelai paused mid-peel with the banana. "We could come in for lunch," she offered.

"Oh, uh," Luke stumbled over his words, caught off guard by the visual Lorelai's words had suddenly put into his head. Out and about with Sookie's kids, having lunch at the diner… It was Lorelai's — and his — normal life. And with Martha and Davy a part of it, it would just make it that much more real that Sookie and Jackson weren't out of town and coming back to pick up the kids, so everything could go back to the 'old' normal. But this was the 'new' normal, wasn't it. "Uh, okay," he eventually managed to agree.

Lorelai grinned wickedly in his direction as she began mashing Davy's banana. "And don't forget, tonight, diaper lessons, mister."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Goody," he added facetiously. And suddenly wary of getting roped into anymore less than pleasant tasks involving bodily functions, he began to make his way to the door.

"Wait!" Lorelai called, scampering after him. Half expecting another diaper reminder, Luke paused reluctantly in the foyer, only to find himself pleasantly surprised by the press of Lorelai's lips to his. He leaned into her, pulling away a moment later with a smile.

Lorelai smirked back at him and pecked him quickly on the cheek. "Bye."

~*~

Lorelai and the kids did end up at the diner that day for lunch. It was a rather uneventful outing, save for various townsfolk — namely Miss Patty and East Side Tillie — oohing and aahing over the adorable little family every time Luke neared the table at which Lorelai, Martha, and Davy were situated. That, of course, made Luke exceedingly uncomfortable, and not simply because he was never one to accept attention willingly. At each mention of family, he grew more and more anxious, not knowing if he truly fit the bill, in Lorelai's mind, as a member in the ad-hoc 'family' she had accrued.

Nonetheless, he relented later that night, allowing the diapering lesson to proceed as had been planned.

Dealing with Martha in that manner wasn't exactly his favorite pastime, but after that, each morning, he faithfully got up five minutes earlier than he normally would have, changed the little girl and coaxed her back to sleep with a bottle so Lorelai could have that extra hour or so of sleep.

Things didn't even change all that much when Lorelai went back to work full-time at the Inn. Luke stuck to the same morning routine, and once awake, Lorelai dragged both kids to the Dragonfly, Martha generally napping or resting in the stomach pouch thing, and Davy either amusing himself in a playpen or toddling after Lorelai, just as Rory had done so many years ago at the Independence.

As for later in the day, catching up after the impromptu hiatus at the Inn left Lorelai generally working long hours — hours too long to keep two small kids tagging along. Rory graciously offered her services as a live-in babysitter some nights, picking up the two little ones after she returned from Stamford and taking them home. But, in all fairness to the twenty year-old with a life and a boyfriend of her own, Lorelai insisted that she not have to do that every day. The unspoken implication of that insistence, however, was that Luke would be the one to pick up the slack as Lorelai toiled away in her office at the Dragonfly. She'd never asked him to, per se, but on those Rory-free days, Luke knew it went without saying that around 6, it was up to him to bring Lorelai dinner and to retrieve Martha and Davy from her office, bringing them back home.

Home.

To Lorelai's home.

Their home.

But was it really his — Luke's — home too? Hell, at that point where his 'home' really was was anyone's guess. Sure, there had been vague promises of him 'helping' Lorelai out, and he'd been compliant with her request to deal with the whole morning diaper thing, but even that right there, the diaper thing, implied that he'd always be there at the Crap Shack to deal with that sort of thing. But there had yet to be any discussion of any official 'moving in.' Was he really living with Lorelai full-time now? Had he somehow missed the taking of that step in their relationship? And if it was the case, was it really because that's how things should have been working out, or was it more out of necessity and ease given their new family situation? Or Lorelai's family situation? Who the hell was even counted as 'in' when it came to whatever her family was anymore? Was he in there somewhere? If Lorelai was struggling any way, yes, of course he wanted to help out. But that didn't mean he could just snap his fingers and suddenly be comfortable with all things 'baby' and the Super-Dad role… If that's even what Lorelai wanted. Was it?

Just more of the many questions nagging at Luke that he simply didn't have the heart to bring up with Lorelai when she trudged in tiredly at the end of one of her long days.

The same nagging questions that were keeping Luke up, tossing restlessly all night after Lorelai was long since dead-to-the-world beside him in her — their? — bed.

To be continued…