Disclaimer: C'mon, it's been ten chapters. You get the idea.

A/N: Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up. To be honest, I was totally blocked—probably had something to do with that whole fear-of-finishing thing that's also haunting the writing of my dissertation. Plus, I've been completely wrapped up in the 'shippy goodness that is RealLuke and RealLorelai at the end of Season Four. (He can see her face! And did you see the screencap from the season finale? Squeeeee! )

Ahem. Sorry about that.

Anyway, here it is. This is my longest chapter by far, but I'm eager to get this wrapped up and get these two kids together already.

That's right, folks, this is the finale to my little tale.

The conclusion, if you will.

The climax.

The big finish.

In other words . . . the end. Enjoy.

Lorelai arrived at the Dragonfly before 7:00 the next morning, exhausted and completely wired. The stress of the opening, combined with the unexpected gift and note from Luke, had made it impossible for her to settle down to sleep when she got home the night before. Finally, after forty-five minutes of tossing and turning, she had called Rory. For the first time since the Meltdown they'd talked about everything in depth. Lorelai was relieved to finally be able to confide in her kid about everything she'd been feeling and avoiding feeling for so long. Sookie may have been her best friend, but Rory was her Rory. That night they spent nearly an hour going back and forth over whether Luke's note meant what it looked like it meant.

"Why don't I just pass him a note at recess and ask him if he likes you or likes you-likes you?" Rory finally giggled.

"Oh, that's nice. Mock Mommy in her moment of emotional crisis. Never mind that I'm having a complete meltdown here. Who're you taking your How to be a Good Daughter lessons from these days, anyway? Christina Crawford?"

"I'm sorry," Rory continued more soberly. "It's just that it's kind of ridiculous to debate this like it's a matter for the Warren Commission or something. It's so obvious that Luke wants to be with you. He always has. Everyone knows it. I've known it since I was in high school."

Lorelai's eyes widened in shock. "What? You knew something was going on?"

"Oh, come on, Mom. You and Luke are like the Dave and Maddie of Stars Hollow—except, you know, without the off-screen temper tantrums and crappy out-of-left-field baby/miscarriage story line and stuff. I've been watching you guys dance around each other for years."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Are you telling me you've seen this . . . thing with Luke and me for years and you never felt the need to, oh, I don't know, fill me in on it?"

"Well, I knew you'd freak out and get all weird if I said anything, and then you'd do that whole pulling away and getting distant thing with him, and then nothing could ever happen with you two and we'd have to avoid him for the rest of our lives. And while your relationship with Luke may not be my business, I had to protect my diner privileges."

"Nice to know you inherited my selfless nature. Seriously, though, what makes you think I'd freak out?"

"Uh . . ."

"Okay, fine. Stupid question." At the knowledge that even her daughter had seen what she herself had refused to, Lorelai just shook her head and sighed. "This is unbelievable. Un. Believable. Have I told you how much I hate having a smart, incredibly perceptive kid?"

"Many a time. So, what are you going to do now?"

"I have no clue. That's why I called you."

"Me? I don't have any idea."

"Don't tell me that. What good is going to Yale if it doesn't teach you to solve all of your mother's romantic predicaments?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but Resolving Sexual Tension 101 was full this semester. I have to wait and take it in the fall."

"Great. My emotional life hangs on the whims of the Yale registrar's office.

"You and the whole Freshman class. Look, I guess the thing is that if you want to be with Luke you should take a chance and do it. Be with him. Don't let all that other stuff from the past scare you off."

Lorelai sat silently for a minute. She thought about what it would be like to have Luke in her life—to really have him in her life. She thought about seeing him and talking to him and kissing him and making love to him and waking up in his arms in the morning. At the moment there was nothing she wanted more, and the thought scared the hell out of her even as it thrilled her. "I guess you're right. But you know what? Don't worry about it, I'll figure something out. . . . So, look, what about you? What about that French exam you've got tomorrow morning?"

"You mean the one I have at 8:30 this morning—as in six hours from now?"

Lorelai winced. "Ooh. Sorry, sweets."

"It's okay. I've been studying for three days straight. I feel pretty good about it."

"Well, I'm sure you'll kick some major—what's the French word for 'butt?'"

"Um, boo-tay?"

"Right. Go kick some French boo-tay."

"Ah, oui. Bien sûr, ma chère maman."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Just a little French talk. Look, are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"Sweetie, I am nothing if not resilient. I'm going to go to sleep now, and then tomorrow, in between figuring out why three of our rooms have sucky water pressure, keeping my mother from turning my inn opening into one of her DAR fundraisers, and stopping Sookie and the caterers from killing each other, I'll figure out what to do with my emotional future. Nothing to it."

"Well, it's good to know that you've got a plan. Hey, look, Paris just came in and she looks even more stressed than usual, so I'd better go see what's up."

"Okay, go take care of your roommate. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yep. Good night, Mom. I love you.

"I love you, too hon. Sweet dreams."

Sookie and Michel arrived at the Inn shortly after Lorelai, and they spent the morning taking care of all the last-minute details and putting out all the fires that were due to spring up in the twelve hours before a new business opens. Lorelai went over all the first weekend's reservations and did a check of each room to make sure it was ready for its first occupants. Michel nearly wept when he saw that his new desk and ergonomically correct chair had finally been delivered, and Sookie immediately set up a test run of her zucchini soup for the next day's menu. There wasn't much to do about the party itself—Emily had everything perfectly planned as usual. She showed up at the inn around noon, garment bag and DayPlanner in hand. The four of them sat down to a quick lunch of Sookie's soup and fresh bread, then Lorelai, Sookie and Emily spent the afternoon going over the final details for the party. As they worked Lorelai filled them in on her late-night meeting with Luke and showed them the gift and the note. It felt weird to include her mother in her 'girl talk,' but it was nice, too.

Sookie squealed when she saw the hairclip. "Oh, sweetie, that's gorgeous! See, I knew he had it in him!"

A small smile formed around Emily's lips as she read the note. "Well, he may not be much for verbal expression, but the man does have very good taste. This hair clip is really lovely. I assume you'll wear it tonight—with a nice dress, of course."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Actually, Mom, I thought I'd just wear cutoffs and a t-shirt and a bandanna around my hair. I mean, this whole clambake is supposed to be mondo casual, right?." But she smiled as she said it.

Emily merely rolled her eyes back at her daughter. "Well, as long as you've already got an appropriate outfit in mind," she replied good-naturedly.

Sookie beamed as she watched the two of them. It was the same exchange they'd had a thousand times, but this time warmth and humor had replaced the judgment and defensiveness that usually laced their words. It was a beautiful thing to see.

Lorelai left the inn around 5:00 to run home and change for the party. As she pulled up to the house she saw Rory getting out of her car, followed by an even-more-agitated-than-usual Paris.

"Hey, mom," Rory called tentatively. "I brought one more for the party. Is that okay?"

"Now, hon, what's the First Gilmore Commandment of Party Planning?"

"Never run out of those little pizza bite thingys?"

"Oh. Right. But the second commandment is 'the more people the more better.'" She kissed Rory on the head as they walked through the door, then turned to Paris. "So, how are things in Paris World?"

Paris hunched her shoulders and her hands started flailing, the first signs of a full-on Paris Rant. "Oh, they're just peachy, thanks, Lorelai. Everything's wonderful. Paris World is a world of sunflowers and puppies and rainbows and that annoying woman who sings about hills and music and raindrops. I mean, you may not be able to tell from looking at me, but I'm happy. I'm psyched that I made Dean's List, I'm thrilled that I'm away from my Amazon roommate and that pituitary case she calls a boyfriend, and I'm ecstatic that I'm not going to Oxford this summer. I mean, why in the world would I want to go to Oxford with a brilliant man when I can spend the summer at the Cape with the same boring people I've seen every summer for the last nineteen years? Yes siree bob, I'm elated that I'm not going to Oxford!" She stalked into Rory's room and slammed the door.

"The professor dumped her last night," Rory informed Lorelai.

"Aw, poor kid. But at least she's taking it really well."

"Oh, this is nothing compared to what she was at three this morning. I almost didn't make it to my French exam."

"Oooh, and how was zee French exam?"

"Actually, it went pretty well—"

Suddenly, there was a crash from the other side of Rory's bedroom door. "Wise, witty, wonderful woman my ass!"

Rory heaved a sigh. "I'd better go stop her before she does any real damage."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Lorelai giggled. "Hey, look, if you guys want to ride over with me, be ready in an hour."

"Okay—assuming I can talk Paris off the ledge by then."

"Well, look at it this way—at least if she jumps she's on the first floor."

Three hours later, the Dragonfly Inn's grand opening celebration was in full swing. The crowd was a mix of Stars Hollow residents, the workers who had been part of the renovation, and a small contingent of Emily and Richard's acquaintances. "After all," Emily had reasoned, "these people travel extensively for business and for pleasure. It will be good for them to see a lovely inn firsthand so they'll have it in mind for their future plans."

Lorelai scanned the crowd of mostly familiar faces. The party had been going on for over an hour, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Patty had cornered one of Richard's golfing buddies, oblivious to the fact that the poor man's wife was standing right next to her, staring daggers at her. Babette and Morey were in an intense conversation with Lane, no doubt about the merits of Miles Davis versus the Clash. Tom and Dean walked around admiring their handiwork, as Lindsay clung adoringly to Dean's arm. Even Taylor looked like he couldn't find anything to disapprove of. Paris was standing in a corner by herself, looking like she'd bite the head off of anyone who came near her, but that was to be expected. Lorelia's eye finally fell on Rory, who was chatting comfortably with a young Topher Grace look-alike. Lorelai vaguely recognized him as the nephew of one of Emily's less horrid DAR friends. She smiled to herself. It was about time Rory met someone who was capable of smiling and uttering a civil sentence. And who wasn't absurdly tall.

Lorelai kept looking around the room, telling herself that she was just making sure everything was going well, but the truth was that she was looking for someone who wasn't even there. She couldn't believe that Luke wouldn't show up for something so important to her, no matter what had happened between them. And after last night she'd thought . . . But it had been an hour and a half, and still no Luke. Her heart sank as she began to think that she'd misinterpreted what had happened between them the night before. Maybe the note had just been a friendly, diner guy-to-annoying customer gesture. But he'd said love . . .

A tap on her shoulder roused Lorelai from her thoughts, and she turned to see Kirk standing in front of her, holding a small sheaf of papers. Lulu stood quietly beside him. "Good evening, Lorelai. May I say that this is an absolutely splendid party."

"Uh . . . thanks, Kirk. Glad you're enjoying it."

"Oh, I am. And I was hoping to take this opportunity to give you my resume. I would love to be a part of the Dragonfly family—maybe as a waiter, or perhaps a bellboy." He handed her the papers. "As you can see, I have extensive experience in both food service and guest management."

Lorelai flipped through the resume. It was fifteen pages long. "You know, Kirk, I would love to have you here, but Michel does all of our hiring. You should talk to him."

"Michel, the scary, snooty French guy?"

"Oh, he's not scary. He just has very high standards." At that moment she saw Michel walk into the room. "Look, there he is right over there. Why don't you just go over and have a quick chat with him. I'm sure he'd love to look over your resume. In detail."

"Well, if you say so," Kirk replied, looking over at Michel with some trepidation. "Come on, Lulu."

Lorelai couldn't help giggling as she watched Kirk make his way over to the "scary, snooty French guy." She loved toying with Michel's head as much as she loved playing with Kirk's. The chance to mess with them both at the same time was just a bonus she couldn't pass up. She was still smiling a moment later when her mother approached her.

"Well, Lorelai, everything's going beautifully. You should be very proud of yourself."

"Yeah, especially since you organized the whole thing," Lorelai chuckled.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Emily replied quietly.

"I know. And I appreciate everything you've done, I really do." She smiled warmly at her mother. "I'm glad you're here, Mom."

"Yes, well . . ." Emily blushed and looked around the room, flustered at this overt show of affection from her daughter. Suddenly her gaze stopped just over Lorelai's shoulder, and a small, self-satisfied grin spread over her face. Lorelai turned to follow Emily's glance, and she saw Luke standing in the entryway. Watching her.

"Oh, dear," Emily said a little too quickly. "Your father's stuck at the bar with Preston Curtis. I'd better go rescue him before he signs us up for three tables at the next Historical Society dinner." She gave Lorelai an awkward-yet-encouraging pat on the arm and walked off.

Lorelai's heart started pounding as Luke walked toward her. It was always a shock to see him out of his usual flannel-and-baseball-cap uniform, and now that she knew that she felt . . . what she felt for him, it was even more unnerving. He was wearing the suit she'd bought him the day of the Great Million Percent-Off Shopping Spree, with a nice white shirt and no tie. Even though he was dressed for the occasion, though, he hadn't shaved. Lorelai found the combination of spiffy and scruffy incredibly sexy. She felt her face flush just the tiniest bit as she thought about how much she wanted to feel that stubble against her cheek again.

Luke's heart was beating just as rapidly as he approached Lorelai. He'd been standing in the doorway for a few minutes, just watching her. He'd grinned as he watched her maneuver Kirk over to that fruity French clown. He knew her well enough to know she was setting up the poor schmuck—well, both of them— for something really devious. And he'd been surprised but pleased to see Lorelai and her mother getting along so well. Something good had obviously happened between the two of them, and maybe Lorelai would finally be able to build the relationship with her mother she'd always wanted.

As he got closer, he was nearly knocked over by how beautiful she looked. The blue in her dress made her eyes sparkle, and her hair fell in long, loose curls against her bare shoulders. Man, he wanted to touch her hair. And her shoulders. Hell, he just wanted to touch her. He couldn't help smiling a little when he saw she was wearing the hair thingamabob he'd given her. He'd stayed up all night wondering if giving her a gift—let alone that note—had been a stupid move. He didn't want to scare her off, but he wanted to let her know how he felt. He'd started to panic a little when she didn't show up at the diner all day, but then he realized how ridiculous he was being. Of course she wouldn't have time to come by, not with everything going on at the inn. But now that he was here, he still had no idea what she was thinking. Just go with it, man. Just play it out and see what happens.

"Hey," he said with a nervous smile. "Some shindig."

She smiled back just as timidly. "Yeah, well, if there's one thing Emily Gilmore knows how to do, it's throw a fancy soiree. Give her a loft in the Village and strap some Manolo Blahniks on her and she'd be a faaabulous Manhattan party planner." She paused for a minute. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it," she said more quietly, looking down at her feet. She hoped it didn't sound like an accusation.

Luke's eyes widened slightly. Had she missed him? "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Ceasar's mom is sick so he was late, and since you hijacked my only other employee for your little get-together, I had to hang out until he could get there. In fact," he said, looking at his watch, "I can't stay very long. I told him I'd come back and close up so he could get back to his mom."

"Oh." In an effort to hide her disappointment, Lorelai started babbling. "Well, at least you got here for a little while. Hey, you've got to be sure to try the lobster puffs while you're here. They're really, really good. Of course, don't tell Sookie I said so, 'cause she thinks she's the only chef in the Northeast who can do a decent lobster puff. If she finds out I even ate one she'll probably stop talking to me for a week." She sighed and looked down at her feet. Why is this so hard? It's never this hard for Meg Ryan. Well, yeah, but Meg Ryan movies are sentimental, anti-feminist propaganda and we hate them, right? Right.

Luke stood in silence, feeling just as awkward. Finally, he cleared his throat. "So, I'm glad you liked the, uh, whaddyacallit," he said, pointing to the clip in Lorelai's hair.

Lorelai smiled. "Yeah, I do. It's perfect. And very symbolic."

"Yeah, well, that's me. Mr. Symbolism." They stared at each other, then they both started speaking at once.

"Luke, do you—"

"Listen, I—"

They both grinned, and Luke stepped a little closer to her. "I just wanted to say that—"

"Lorelai, you're never going to believe this!" Sookie came rushing up to them, shattering the moment.

"Sweetie, can it wait, 'cause—"

"Oh, sure, it can wait. I mean, it's only a guy from the New York Times Sunday magazine here to interview us," Sookie beamed.

"What? Are you serious? Why is he here? How does he even know about us?" There was genuine surprise and excitement in Lorelai's voice. Even Luke was impressed.

"Well, the fall travel magazine is going to have a feature on renovated historic inns, and this guy got a call about us and the Dragonfly and he thought we'd be perfect for the story."

"Wait, wait. He 'got a call'?" Lorelai shook her head. "This stinks of my mother's $200-an-ounce perfume."

"Oh, who cares why he's here? The point is he's here. The New York freakin' Times!" Sookie tugged at Lorelai's arm. "Come on, before he changes his mind and leaves."

Lorelai turned to Luke, truly torn. "I guess I'd better . . ."

"Go," he said with a small grin. "Be famous."

"Oooh," Sookie squealed as she dragged Lorelai off. "This is gonna be so great! Do you think he'd want to try some of my zucchini soup, or . . ."

Luke sighed as he watched them walk out of the lobby. Yep, fate could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

The Times guy was just as nice and just as condescending as Lorelai had expected a big-time newspaper guy to be. He spent over an hour with Lorelai and Sookie, asking about the history of the inn and its renovation while his photographer took pictures of the renovations. Lorelai was thrilled think that the Dragonfly would be put on the map so soon, but she was dying to get back to Luke. She felt her Aspiring Businesswoman side playing tug-of-war with her Maybe-Not-So-Hopeless Romantic After All side, and neither side was winning. Actually, she felt very much like Steve Martin in All of Me.

By the time she got back to the party, Luke had gone.

A few hours later, Lorelai sat on the back porch of the Inn, enjoying the warm night air. The party had broken up about a half hour earlier, and the catering crew were just finishing cleaning up. Lorelai had sent Sookie and Jackson home to Davy, her parents upstairs to the Starlight Room, and Rory, Lane and Paris to the Fran Weston Suite for a good-old-fashioned girlie slumber party (hopefully spending the night with Rory and Lane would calm Paris down a little.) Before the girls went upstairs, Rory had managed to take Lorelai aside and tell her that the guy's name was Ben, he was a junior at Yale, and she'd given him her phone number. Lorelai was happy to see Rory so excited over a new guy. It had been way too long.

She sighed, thinking of her own screwed-up love life. She was sure Luke had been about to say something important, but then Stupid Reporter Guy showed up with all his "Oh, is this the original woodwork?" and his "So, tell us about your menu." And if she knew Luke—and she did—even if he had had something to say, he'd let it go once the moment had passed. Like that time when Sookie and Jackson were on their first date. She'd been certain Luke was trying to ask her out, then Mrs. Kim showed up and—poof!—he never said anything about it again. That was just the way he was. She leaned against the porch rail and sighed.

"Wait, don't tell me. This time you're wishing on the French Toast Star." Lorelai's breath caught in her throat at the sound of Luke's voice. She looked up and there he was, standing right in front of her just like he had the night before. He'd ditched the jacket, but he still had on the dress shirt and pants.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this," Lorelai joked, trying to keep her pulse from racing. What is he doing here? "I thought you were long gone."

"Well, I was. But then I figured you'd still be here. And if you were still here you'd be completely wired. And if you were wired you weren't gonna go to bed any time soon. And if you weren't going to bed any time soon, you'd need this." He held out a cup of coffee.

For some reason, this simple gesture, which spoke so completely to who they were to each other, broke Lorelai's heart. She was horrified to find herself crying uncontrollably.

At the sight of Lorelai's tears, Luke's first impulse was to run. Aw, jeez, what did I do now? "Hey, hey, it's only coffee," he said, setting the cup down on the porch. "It's not even my best stuff. I forgot to put the nutmeg in it." He sat down beside her and took her in his arms, just like he'd done the night of her Meltdown in the Park.

"It's not the coffee," Lorelai sobbed. "It's the not having the coffee, and the not talking and the not seeing you and—God, I've missed you so much!" She clutched the thin fabric that covered Luke's back and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I've missed you, too." He replied, gently stroking her hair.

Lorelai sat up, furiously wiping the tears from her face. "So, do you think we could get back to the way things were?" she asked urgently. "I mean, I know I've said and done some horrible things—believe me, I'm gonna start a website where I confess to all my sins. I'm thinking www.lorelaisucks.com. But I just . . .I mean . . . Do you think we could at least be friends again?"

Luke stared into her eyes and sighed. If he let this go now, if he let them slip back into being friends, then that was it. He'd have to pretend from here on out that he didn't want anything else. Well, to hell with pretending. He shook his head slowly. "Lorelai, I don't wanna be friends anymore."

Lorelai was struck with a sudden memory of the time Rory, in an uncharacteristic fit of athletic ambition, had kicked a soccer ball and accidentally hit Lorelai in the stomach. Only this hurt about a billion times worse. "Oh. Okay, then. Well, I should . . . Yeah. I think I'm just gonna . . ." She stood up to walk away.

"Wait, wait, wait. That's not what I meant." Luke grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

"No, really, it's okay. I understand—"

"No, you don't understand. Now would you please, for once, just shut up and listen to me for a second?" He sighed. She never did make things easy, did she? "What I mean is, I don't want to be just friends. I can't be just your friend. Not anymore."

Lorelai studied Luke's face, looking for some indication that he'd just said what she thought he'd just said. "So, you want to be . . . more than friends?"

Luke nodded. "Yes. I do."

"So, you like me?"

"Against my better judgment, I'm afraid I do."

A small smile began to play at the corner of Lorelai's mouth. "So, do you like-me-like me?"

"Aw, jeez—" Luke knew he was fast losing control of the conversation. And the thing is, he didn't really mind. "Yeah, I guess I like you-like you."

Lorelai looked into his eyes, wondering if she should push things an extra step. "So," she said more seriously, "does that mean you . . .?"

Luke's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, but he nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I do."

Lorelai smiled. Now that she knew how he felt, she couldn't help teasing him just a little bit. "I dunno, Luke. I'm afraid you're gonna have to spell it out for me, 'cause I'm not really sure what you're trying to say here."

"Aw, man . . ."

Lorelai thought for a moment. She knew he wanted to say it, and she new she needed to hear it. He just needed a little help. An idea came to her. "Okay, let's make this easier. So, you remember that note you gave me?"

"Yes."

"Well, did you—"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I meant what I wrote."

"Well, yeah, but did you—"

"Yes, I meant it that way."

Lorelai put her hand over his. "Luke . . ." she prodded gently.

Luke took a deep breath and looked at her. "I love you, Lorelai. I'm in love with you." Luke had always thought saying those words to her would be terrifying. But as soon as soon as they left his mouth, he felt nothing but peace. Whatever might happen, he knew he'd done the right thing.

He looked up at Lorelai. Her face was glowing and her eyes were sparkling. "Wow," she breathed. Luke thought she looked like a little girl who'd just seen her first 4th of July fireworks.

Suddenly, Lorelai took both Luke's hands in hers and jiggled them up and down excitedly. "Hey, you know what's really cool about this whole thing?"

"What?"

Lorelai leaned forward until her cheek was pressed against Luke's and her lips were brushing his ear. "I love you too," she whispered.

Luke pulled back and searched her face, as if trying to see whether she really meant it. When he saw the love shining in Lorelai's eyes, a huge smile broke out across his face. Lorelai was stunned. She'd seen Luke smirk before, and she'd seen him grin. She'd even seen him chuckle a couple of times. But she'd never seen him smile—not like that. That smile transformed him. At that moment, Luke was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

They sat there beaming at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Lorelai giggled. "Ya know, I think we're missing our cue."

"Cue?"

"Uh-huh. We've got the moonlight, and the warm night, and the flowers, and the boy and the girl, and the 'I love you's.' Now, I know you're Mr. I've Never Seen a Romantic Movie, but what we have here is your classic set-up for the Big Kiss. It's in all the movies."

Luke grinned. "Well, far be it from me to argue with a hundred years of Hollywood history," he said huskily, leaning forward to capture her lips with his.

Now, most people would expect that this, the first real kiss between the hero and the heroine, would be all fireworks and Puccini arias and waves crashing. But that wasn't the case here. This was the warm, gentle, but still completely breathtaking kiss of two people who had finally realized just how much they loved each other. Lorelai thought it felt like coffee and warm pie and a favorite song on the radio, all rolled together and multiplied by a hundred. Luke just thought it felt like coming home.

Lorelai pulled back and smiled. "Hey, we're really good at this."

"No arguments here." Luke pulled her back for another kiss. This one was deeper and more intense. Tongues explored mouths and hands tangled in hair and roamed over backs and arms and hips. After a few minutes, they broke apart panting.

"You know," Lorelai breathed, "I just happen to know that there are a couple of empty rooms in this here newly renovated historic inn."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Lorelai reached up and stroked his cheek. "And I have it on very good authority that the owner of this here newly renovated historic in is totally hot for you."

Luke grinned. "I always thought Sookie had a thing for me. All that passion just got sublimated into her cooking."

Lorelai laughed and swatted his arm. "Don't let Jackson hear you talk like that, or he'd liable to get violently protective again."

"Oh, yeah. It worked so well last time."

"I know—'aaarggh, Luuuuke!'" Lorelai giggled for a second, then turned serious. "So . . ." she said quietly, "what do you think?"

"Well . . ." Luke really wanted to. Boy did he want to. But something told him to give this thing some time.

Lorelai could sense his hesitation. "Too much too soon?"

Luke let out a breath. "Yeah. It's not that I don't want to." He kissed her deeply to show just how much he wanted to. "It's just a little quick. Are you mad?"

"No," she smiled. "In fact, I'm relieved."

"Oh, gee thanks."

"Oh, listen, I totally want to." She kissed him deeply to show just how much she wanted to. "It's just that every relationship I've ever screwed up has been screwed up by moving to fast. And I don't want to screw this up. I don't want to lose us."

Luke smiled and kissed her softly. "You won't. I won't let you."

"Good." She leaned her forehead against his. "I really, really don't want to be away from you tonight, though."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." Luke shifted so that Lorelai's head was resting on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her.

They sat that way for a long time, just holding each other—and yes, kissing—and not saying much of anything. They knew there was still a lot to talk about and a lot to work through. She still tended to run away when she was scared, and he was still apt to retreat into his cave when he got hurt. They still had to survive their first Friday Night Dinner together, not to mention find a way to function as a couple in the fishbowl that was Stars Hollow. And God only knew if anyone outside a Rob Reiner movie had ever really been able to transform over a decade of friendship into True Love. But somehow, they knew that they had each other and that the rest of it would eventually work out.

That night they just sat there. Together.

-END-

A/N: And they lived pretty much happily ever after.

Well, kids, I have had an absolute blast writing this. I thank everyone who has reviewed for your kind words and encouragement. Without you guys I don't think I would have kept up writing my little saga. Y'all rock. You truly do.

And I just want to end with a challenge to all the great Luke/Lorelai fanfic writers out there (and you know who you are). C'mon, gang! We need more good Java Junkie stories!