Disclaimer: Nah, I got lots of really neat presents for Christmas, but neither the Gilmore girls nor any of their friends and family were among them. It's still just me and my computer here, the rest belongs to ASP and The WB.

A/N, part 1: Now that this story has come to an end, I would like to thank all those who read and reviewed. Your reviews always meant a lot to me and I was over the moon whenever I discovered that someone had left one. Thank you so much for giving your opinion. I wish you a peaceful and happy 2005.

Not Meant To Be - Epilogue

They resume Friday Night Dinners in late July.

At first it is difficult. Too many memories seem to be in the room with them that suffocate the conversation they could be entertaining. Lorelai's well-rounded stomach, the soft drinks and sparkling water she had instead of wine, the thoughtfulness with which Luke or Rory helped her up from the couch before they made their way over into the dining room - all these images cloud their minds and make them hesitant to bring up everyday-topics.

How can today be of any importance and rightfully talked about when suddenly the yesterday behind it still seems so real and unprocessed that they feel guilty for negating its existence, even in their thoughts? So the first few Fridays are spent first in thought and later on, more privately, in frustration and tears.

But the more Fridays pass, the less awkward they feel. It gets easier to talk about what charitable function Emily is going to attend next. When mentioned at the dinner table, the ridiculous names some of Richard's business partners call their own finally manage to reap the laughter they deserve. The tension in Luke's shoulders fades noticeably with each week. One Friday morning at Yale Rory finds herself actually looking forward to going to Hartford that night. And when on the same night Lorelai surprises everyone, including herself, by making a carrot speak, suddenly they can all breathe a lot easier than before.

Slowly but surely they slip back into the comfortable routine of drink, food and togetherness. And with this growing security on the terrain of weekly dinners also the weekly teasing and nagging, squabbling and babbling returns. They are not the Gilmores - or Daneses, for that matter - for nothing. Especially those among them equipped with two x-chromosomes once again thrive on that kind of interaction, there is nothing they can do about it.

Indeed, being given the chance to be there for him proves to be just what Lorelai needs to find a way back into some kind of life. This life she begins to conquer for herself does not resemble her old one in every respect, but somehow that is okay. It hurts, but she learns to accept the direction her life has taken and with each day it gets easier to walk the path laid out for her and not look back all too often or for much too long. Laughter and a quick tongue return to her step-by-step. And whenever she feels guitly about it she remembers the words Rory said to her after the word "dirty" escaped her lips for the first time in weeks and immediately sent her into a crying-fit.

"I think he would have had your sense of humor. Bet he would have loved to see you laugh."

One week after "the boat.. thing", as Luke refers to it from then on, Lorelai finds a crumpled piece of paper behind her nightstand while looking for an especially freedom-loving earring. Straightening it out, she recognizes it and after some thinking calls a number in Hartford. Why not give it a try?

The doctor is really nice and she discovers that 'the couch' is more of a cliché than reality. In fact, there is no couch. They sit facing each other as they talk. During the hour she spends at the doctor's office, Lorelai cries a little, smiles a little and then, more towards the end, realizes that this is something that might actually help. She returns once a week for half a year and twice actually manages to drag Luke along. The other 24 times his aversion towards everything medicine-related keeps him away.

The best therapy for him is being able to witness her become Lorelai again. On her first day back at the inn she comes into his diner before and after work, quietly takes and drinks the coffee he offers her and then they kiss over the counter, just like the used to do. No sandpaper-lips, not clenched fists, just kissing. As soon as she is out of the door and the jingle of the bells has subsided, he has to excuse himself to the back where in the morning he wipes away the wetness forming in his eyes and in the evening simply has to give the air a good punch. Yes!

He thanks whatever higher power it is that grants them a second chance at happiness.

"Watch out for the thorns, okay? We don't want you to hurt yourself. Look, there you go." With that she hands her the rose and silently watches the girl trudge across the grass towards her destination. When she has reached it, she turns around and looks up at them, as if asking for their approval.

"Right there is fine, honey", she says and nods her head. The toddler's forehead puckers up in concentration, but then her hand opens and the flower falls to the ground. It comes to rest next to dozens of others.

"Well done!" he praises and gives her waist another squeeze before removing his arm from around her and kneeling down on the ground.

With a delighted squeal their daughter makes her way over to where he extends his arms for her. He scoops her up into his arms and stands up next to Lorelai.

"Another year, huh?"

"Yeah. Another year." She leans over to where the little girl is burrowing her head in the crook of her father's neck and caresses her cheek.

"I can't believe it's already been three years", he states and clears his throat, causing the girl to lift her head and look around curiously at the noise.

"Me either", she replies and then presses a kiss onto their child's forehead. They stare ahead of them for a minute or two, each hanging on to their own thoughts.

Her mind wanders back to this day two years ago. She sees herself telling him she wants them to try again.

The memory of this day one year ago brings back the images of a stick turning pink in her trembling hands, of him spending an incredibly cold week in January carrying and reassembling wooden nursery furniture, of that day in February as happy, as scary, as painful and as relieving as there never was one before and probably never will be again.

And here they stood, her holding a huge bouquet of flowers and he carrying a car seat in which their second baby slept.

"You ready?" he asks after a while, averting his gaze from the headstone reading Julian Michael Danes – May 8th 2006 – We will never understand why it was not meant to be.

She nods and interlaces her fingers with his as they begin to make their way back to where they have parked their car. On the way there their daughter starts to squirm in his arms and so he sets her on the ground and takes one of her tiny hands in his, slowly walking the rest of the way with her.

Already leaning against the side of the truck, Lorelai cannot help herself but smile at the sight of Luke making toddler-size steps so that the little girl can keep up with him.

"What are you laughing at?" he asks when he looks up into her smiling face.

"Nothing. I love you, you know that?"

Just when he is about to reply, the girl clutching two of his fingers decides that some object on the ground requires further examination and therefore bends down, dragging his hand down with her. He would have laughed had anyone told him years ago how firm a little child's grip on one's hand can really be.

"Whoa, Mia, what's that down there?" he asks as he kneels down next to her.

Lorelai also steps a little closer to where their daughter is crouching in the grass.

"Fower!" Mia exclaims merrily and holds up a rumpled little daisy. "Take!"

"Alright, we can take it home and put it in a vase", Lorelai agrees, "but before that we go to Grandma and Grandpa's house for lunch, okay?"

Mia nods eagerly and gets back to her feet, clutching the daisy in one fist.

"I bet Grandma and Grandpa have a vase they can borrow you for the time being." Luke tells his daughter as he lifts her up into his arms and then places her in her seat in the back of the truck.

They don't talk much on the way to Hartford, but nowadayas silence has lost the awkwardness it once used to hold. In the rear mirror Luke can see Mia still holding on to the daisy, even though she is fast asleep by now.

He points the sight out to Lorelai and once again she smiles at him. This smile is a little more crooked, though.

"Right now I really wish he could be here", she almost whispers and he nods in agreement.

"Yeah, me too." The single tear rolling down her cheek does not escape him.

He reaches out for her hand and his right holds her left until the Gilmore residence comes into view. Rory's car is already standing there when he pulls the truck into the driveway. When he has turned off the engine and they have unfastened their seatbelts, they lean in and kiss each other on the lips. Mia sighs softly and stirs in her seat, a new maid opens the front door and behind her Rory and the grandparents wave for them to come inside already.

It's May 8th 2009 and they are doing okay.

A/N, part 2: Once again, thank you for reading. I hope you liked it.