Author's Note: I want to thank you all for your wonderful feedback throughout the course of this story. I'm thrilled that so many people have enjoyed this! I also want to once again thank my fabulous betas Heather (xphilehb) and Kelsey for their encouragement and help.

Luke was furiously wiping down the counter in his diner. He had yet to hear from Lorelai, and he was beginning to take his frustrations out on the poor defenseless counter.

Not that the phone calls seemed to matter anymore. She was pulling away from him. Her voice always sounded distant and distracted. She barely shared anything with him anymore. She kept things short and aloof. She was acting like it was all his fault that she was unhappy. His biggest fear was that soon he would receive the phone call from her, the final one. It terrified him more than he was even willing to admit to himself.

Sooner or later, he was going to rub through the paint, but he didn't let up. Instead, he pressed harder with the rag, almost hoping that the paint would strip off. He didn't like having to leave her in France, but he wasn't going to beg her to leave this job. She had to decide that on her own.

He heard the bell above the door jingle. "Kirk!" he barked, not even bothering to look up. "I told you twenty minutes ago that I was closed and to stay the hell out!" He wiped the counter even more vigorously as he waited for the jingling of the bell to inform him that Kirk had slipped back out the door. He was ready to holler at him again when he heard her voice.

"What did that counter ever do to you?" she mused, laughing nervously.

His head snapped up, the rag falling from his grip. "Lorelai," he said softly, still not quite believing that she was standing in the doorway of his diner.

"Hi," she squeaked. She was twisting the strap of her purse nervously between her fingers. "Sorry that I'm not Kirk," she said lightly, trying to break the tense air in the room. She shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to the other, not letting her eyes meet his.

"Lorelai... why... what are you doing here?" he stumbled.

She fidgeted with the bottom of her shirt, a nervous action. "You said that no matter what happens, we'll always have our weekend in Paris. And it's a great memory. But Luke, I don't want to always have Paris. It's not enough for me. Not anymore." She finally allowed her blue eyes to meet his. They gave her the courage to continue. She took a deep breath. "I'm ready for an answer," she said with an air of confidence that surprised even her.

He stared at her with a confused expression. Suddenly, the meaning of her statement sunk in, and the blank look left his face.

His persistent silence began to scare her. She knew that he understood what she was talking about, yet he remained standing there. Quiet. Far away from her. She watched as he abruptly moved away from the counter and trampled up the stairs to his apartment. Lorelai felt her heart begin to break. Why hadn't he said anything? Had she messed up things that badly?

She closed her eyes against the tears that suddenly filled them. She heard him coming back down the stairs. She reopened her eyes to find him walking towards her. Before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her into an embrace.

She felt his hand travel between their bodies, seeking out hers. He gently eased it from where it rested at the hem of her shirt.

"You're ready?" he asked huskily.

She nodded. "You were right, I wasn't ready before. I probably would have run from it," she admitted. "But I am ready now," she told him. Seconds later, she felt a cool piece of metal slip onto her hand that he held in his own. "I take that as a yes? Either that, or you just like buying me pretty things."

Luke kissed her in response, pressing her body firmly against his. "Definitely a yes," he murmured between kisses. He felt her tongue lightly pressing against his lips. He opened his mouth, inviting her in. Tongues dueled and hands roamed, desperately seeking to get enough of each other. When they both broke away, gasping for air, he questioned, "What about the job?"

"I still have my inn. Sookie will be thrilled to have me back."

"You loved living in France," he reminded her despite his own mind's protests.

"I did for a time. But it wasn't my home. It was never my home. A home isn't something you can just create out of the blue. It's where you can find the people you love. For the longest time, Rory was my home. My guiding star to lead my way through the dark. But then, I lost her. I was so afraid that night I came to the diner, Luke. I was more terrified than I'd ever felt before, because my own daughter left me. But there you were, ready to fix things, to help me. Everything became blatantly clear in that moment even if I was still unsure. Being away has made it that much clearer. You are my home, Luke. Rory will come back eventually, I know. But as cheesy as it sounds, you are my guiding light now."

"You've been my home for a long time, Lorelai. There were so many times that I wanted to beg for you to come back," he confessed. "But I couldn't do that to you. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't be selfish."

"That's why I love you so much, Luke. You love me enough to let me go even if it kills you."

He nodded. "I do."

She grinned mischievously. "Lucky for you that I can't live without you." She paused for a moment before adding, "And your coffee. Do you know how hard it was for me to find a decent cup of coffee in France? It was like searching for the fountain of youth. Pretty damn near impossible, buddy. I probably would have found the fountain before I found coffee as good as yours."

His arm snaked around her back. Holding his hand solidly on the small of her back, he brought her close. "Lorelai, shut up," he growled, his mouth near her ear.

"How are you planning on making me shut up?" she asked suggestively. He whispered something in her ear. "Dirty!" she exclaimed before taking off up the stairs. "Last one up is a rotten egg!" she called over her shoulder. "Luke! I seem to have lost my shirt on the way up here."

Not even bothering to lock the diner door or to turn off the lights, Luke tore up the stairs after his fiancée.

Fin.

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