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First Snow of the Season

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He grumbles and rolls back over and she wishes those church bells still worked.

"Luke. Luke. Luke," she tugs, prods, whispers in his ear. "Get up! You're gonna miss it."

He groans in response, but makes very little effort beyond that. Definitely not enough to convince her he's aware of anything outside of his dreams.

She pulls the blankets from him and wedges herself behind him. Placing her bare, cold feet against his back, her toes somehow managing to make it under his t-shirt—to increase the likelihood of actually movement on his part—she pushes with all her might forcing him to the edge of the bed.

"Luuuuuuke," she whines before giving him one final shove.

He scrambles for purchase and somehow manages not to fall off the edge of the bed.

"What!" he blurts out in exasperation as he turns and grabs her ankles to keep her from pushing again.

She grins.

"It's going to snow."

He can't help the smile that crosses his own lips. As irritated as he'd like to be, about being woken up with her cold feet and her attempt to push him from their bed, he finds himself unable to get upset with her. Not when she's grinning and bouncing like a kid on their bed at the prospect of snow.

"You're not supposed to be in here," he teases as she climbs over him and out of the bed, grabbing his arm and tugging. Trying to pull him from bed and into her crazy scheme. He knows exactly what she's thinking. This might be the first snow of the season, but it isn't the first time she's pulled him into the cold streets to banter about her love affair with snow.

"It doesn't count. It's still night," she justifies and he smiles as he looks at the clock on his side of the bed. He's not surprised to find that in reality it's morning and quickly approaching time for them to get up, but in her book anything before dawn is still night.

"Did you walk over here from Sookie's?" he asks as she pulls them passed the closet and he barely manages to grab some shoes before she yanks harder on his arm, his eyes on her bare feet in concern.

When he stalls in the doorway to try and pull his shoes on she lets go of him and places her hands on her hips.

"Stalling is not going to get you out of this. But yes, I walked over. And no, I did not walk over bare foot. Are we done now, Senator Thurmond?" she asks.

He puts his hands on her waist and places a quick kiss on her lips.

"Thurmond?"

"Longest filibuster."

"Rory?"

"This isn't just a pretty face you're marrying," she pretends to pout so he kisses her again. Longer and deeper, warming her all the way to her chilled toes.

But if he thinks she'll be distracted that easily he's got another thing coming. Backing up slowly, still attached at the waist and lips, she maneuvers them down the hall to the stairs. He breaks their kiss at the last second and uses his grip on her waist to turn her around so she doesn't try to descend backwards.

She reaches back and grabs his hand again.

"Where are your shoes?" he whispers when they reach the bottom of the stairs. She puts a finger to her lips and points at the couch where Jess is snoring loudly. He rolls his eyes and follows her persistent tug to the front door, where she tugs on a slipper, opens the front door and tugs on the other as she walks out. He grabs their coats as they fly by them and tries not to be too upset that she walked over without proper footwear.

He manages to get her into her coat without too much trouble now that they've made it to the front porch. He even gets the front door closed and his own coat on before she's pulling him down the stairs and into the front yard.

"Look," she whispers as she steps back, placing her back to his chest and grabbing his arms and wrapping them around her. Her head falls back against his shoulder and he forgets that he's supposed to be looking at the sky. All he sees is the woman he's going to spend the rest of his life with and the tiny warm bulge that rests under his hands, barely there. That only they've talked about.

He loves this about her. This crazy random love of a substance most people have no good use for. Her childlike awe and wonder about a natural phenomenon. Her insistence that she can smell it coming. If it means she'll be waking him up one night a year for the rest of his life so they can stand outside and freeze while they wait for little white flakes, he'll gladly sign up for the job.

"It's freezing out here," he grumbles, knowing it's part of his job even if he really doesn't mind.

"It's magic," she disagrees as she places her hands over his and little white flakes start to fall around them.

It was late coming this year but with all the last minute wedding preparations she didn't realize it until a few days ago. But she's glad it was late. Almost like it was waiting for her, for them. For the perfect time.

He knows she thinks it's a good omen, like even snow is offering them it's blessing. Most women would be annoyed and stressed about what it meant for their wedding. Slush and delays. People not being able to make it because of travel conditions. But not her.

"Snow loves us," she grins as she tilts her head to meet his eyes.

"It's not the only one," he squeezes her closer and kisses her softly.

They stand in the cold forgetting the snow for a minute or ten. He only notices it as it lands on her nose, or melts in her hair. Catches in her eyelashes or burns against the back of his neck. She only sees it when it comes between their lips or kisses his cheeks.

"Coffee," she murmurs when their noses are bright red and their clothes start to grow damp.

"We've got a house full of groomsmen in there," he points to their house and she bites her lip in thought.

"Whose brilliant idea was that anyway?" she grumbles, caving to her morning coffee cravings.

"I've got it covered. Come on," he grins as he releases her from his arms only to grab her hand and tug her insistently out of their yard and onto the street.

The streets of Stars Hollow are empty as the snow starts to fall faster, collecting on window sills and ledges. The light from lampposts bouncing off of each flake and bathing the emptiness in a warm diffused light. She jogs to keep up with him, her laughter filling the quiet.

At one point she almost loses her sad, wet slipper and he stops and scoops her up into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck as he almost dances them to the front door of his diner—their diner—where he sets her down and uses the hidden key to unlock the door.

She rushes in and sits down at the counter as he turns on the lights.

"It's freezing out there, sheesh. Don't you have any consideration for a women in my condition," she banters as he walks behind the counter and starts to make a pot of coffee just for her. "And that better not be decaf," she adds.

He puts the pot on and pretends to ignore her last comment. It's going to be decaf for the next six months and a half months at the very least. She makes her way behind the counter and tries to remedy his 'mistake' but he grabs her around the waist and pins her to the counter, his body between her and the machine.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to come behind the counter?" he teases softly.

"Ooooh dirty," she grins with that devilish look.

"Don't play games with me. I know that someone else will be supplying you with the harder stuff as soon as you go back to Sookie's," His fingers tangle her her hair for a minute as he brushes a soft lock over her shoulder. She reciprocates by wrapping her fingers in his shirt and tugging him closer.

"What? No, never. I swear," she lies badly; playing the innocent he knows she's probably never been.

"Uh huh," he plays right back.

"Just a little?" she resorts to begging for her coffee and he places a kiss on her forehead.

"No. Now get your butt back to the other side of the counter before I show you dirty," he says as he turns and grabs her mug from the shelf above the coffeemaker.

"Luke Danes! I'm shocked. I'm as good as married. What would my husband say?" she leans back against the counter, resting on her elbows as she watches him, her voice feigning outrage. He turns to face her and sets her mug on the counter next to her.

"I think he'd thank me for making sure you got decaf and then congratulate me for getting you to come behind the counter," he murmurs as he leans over her and places his hands back on her waist.

"Well, I never. People eat here," she mutters.

"Hmmm," he pretends to ponder for a moment then lifts her up and sets her on the counter in front of him, startling her with his split second decision. Making her heart race in anticipation as his eyes darken and lock with hers in a look she knows all to well. Her stomach tightens and she swallows back the desire to answer his look with one of her own.

"That's a great idea," he adds as his hands slip under her shirt and his fingers tuck under her waistband.

"You better make that coffee to go," she says as she pushes against his chest and frees his hands from under her clothing. "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

"But we have snow's blessing," he teases and steps back so she can slide off the counter.

"True, but let's be honest. This coffee is only going to last as long as my walk to Sookie's at which point I will need some actual coffee," she says as he turns away and grabs a to-go cup, filling it instead of the mug on the counter.

"It's good to know you have your priorities in order," he says snapping the lid on and turning back to her.

"Always," she answers as she takes the cup from him, then adds, "Kiss?"

He frowns.

"Don't I at least get to walk you home?"

She wants him to. She isn't happy about leaving him at all, but she knows that if she sticks around or if he walks her home they are going to end up horizontal, or perhaps vertical up against something. Which isn't really something she objects to but she doesn't want to mess with fate any more than she has. That and the fact that she has a million things to do before she walks down the aisle and getting naked with Luke would be too much of a distraction.

"Bad luck. Remember? It's a good thing we're getting married today, I think you might be losing it in your old age. Don't worry, I'll be around to remind you," she jokes as she steps away.

"And to keep me from doing crazy things like standing outside at four in the morning in the freezing snow?" he questions innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denies everything and leans in for a quick kiss, which turns into a longer kiss as she backs toward the door and he follows her.

"See ya later," she groans when her back hits the diner door and she finally breaks away from his lips.

"I can't wait," he murmurs softly with a smile that says everything he doesn't.

"Me either," she agrees then opens the door and slips out.

He watches her scurry off toward Sookie's and smiles. He can't wait for the rest of their lives to begin.