A/N: This is it, the end... Thanks for the reviews. Thanks for reading. Just thanks.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

She is different now, four months post ultimatum.

These months have altered her irreparably. Although her smile is less guarded, her laugh more genuine, there is something older in her eyes.

The town of course, has noticed and commented at length. Kirk had, not so subtly, suggested a new wrinkle cream. Babbette had cornered her the week before, chastising her for the long months away; worried that consulting for that 'hotel guy' had tired her. Miss Patty took certain glee in insinuating that whatever it was that had taken residence in her eyes was due to a lack of 'Luke'. And it was obvious to all that she meant more than just the man. For her part, Lorelai smiled sweetly and ignored them, her only concession an emergency trip to Sephora after Kirk's ill thought out comment.

She trusts herself more now than she used to, now that she knows the nature of fear and loss. Her words are chosen with more care and she tends to take a few more moments before committing to action, usually. There are still moments, like the current one, where it's obvious that old habits die hard.

She stands hidden across the square and studies the diner, brow furrowed in concentration. Things must go perfectly if what she wants to happen, is to happen. It helps that his routine is so deeply ingrained that little alters the course of his days. Oh, he can be unpredictable. He can throw her for the biggest of loops with ease, but she hopes that today he will stick to the same that is old.

Faintly a bell tinkles and the diner door swings wide.

A sparkle surfaces in the corners of her eyes. Her lips curve to form the slightest of smiles. She raises her arm and elbows the figure hunched in the shadows next to her. "Rory. Hun. Wake up. It's time."

A mumbly voice replies, "Time? What are we?"

"We've been over this already. You and I? Our grand caper? Operation Relocation?"

"Huh?"

"Oh sweets." With an indulging smile she stands and pulls her daughter up and across the Town Square. "Come on. This is going to be fun!"

Rory's enthusiasm is substantially less as she stumbles along. "Uh huh. This is so much fun." After a few more steps she refuses to continue. "Tell me again why we're doing this?"

Lorelai turns, jutting out her hip and letting her hand rest there as she explains in exasperation. "Because he won't."

"And you think forcing him is a good idea after… It's 4:30 in the morning mom! Listen. Do you hear anything? The birds aren't even up yet!"

"But Luke is. He's already met with the bread guy and the meat guy this morning. And in approximately…" she glances at her watch, glowing indigo in the darkness "eight minutes, he will arrive at Sniffy's where Buddy will have a hot bowl of, I don't know, oatmeal? waiting for him."

"Mom." She holds out hope that the task can be deferred, or at least delayed to a more reasonable hour.

"Rory. Please? I want to do this. I need to do this. And he doesn't know it yet but he wants this too. No more avoiding, remember?"

"Right. So we?"

"Put one foot in front of the other and get going!"

Doubts still linger for the younger woman. "What about the rest of it? How are we going to do this and everything else before Luke gets back?"

"Rory, hun, I have a plan."

"Rrright…"

"Oh yee of little faith. Listen. I've got the whole town involved. Luke will read the first note, which will lead him to the inn. Once there Michel has, under the promise of certain death or possibly no more night shifts for the rest of the month, agreed to direct him to the exact spot where Kirk will make his grand entrance. Now I've already warned the guests about the 'performance art' scheduled today so they won't be freaked, which I think was brilliant strategy on my part. And from there...well, you know, some other things happen and while they're happening we will have Jackson's truck and Andrew and Bootsy so we can do what we need to do. So really it's all good. All that you have to do is help me right now is this and one quick stop to strategically place the keys and then we're done. Okay?"

The reply is slightly less begrudging than before. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

And so the plan is set in motion.

-o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o-

She waits in anticipation at the end of day; a pillow clutched to her chest as the front door rattles and the knob begins to turn. And then it stops. There is a low curse and then a knock on the door. "Lorelai!" he calls out and her smile grows wider.

"Come in!"

The door rattles again. "It's locked."

She rolls her eyes. "Then open it and come in."

"But I don't have… oh."

She's on her knees now, peering over the back of the couch. "Luke?" The tension in her body is eased by the faint jingle of keys, the click of the lock as the key slides in and releases it. "Yay!" she cheers as he emerges through the entrance.

"And the point of that was?" He's grumbling, but in a happy kind of way.

"To make you use the keys, your keys, to our," she enjoys the feel of the word on her tongue, "our house."

He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. "So the notes and the complete and utter removal of anything personal in the apartment…"

"Were an attempt to force you to finally, officially move in? Yes."

"And the clues?"

"A shameless bit of torture?" She flutters her lashes playfully. "Angry?"

He slumps onto the couch beside her. "I should be. I've been all over today. The inn, the bookstore, Doose's, Al's… even the gazebo. And you wrote on my wall!"

"Yes, but did you read it?"

He looks to the ceiling and recites, "Two cups of coffee, one pie, one cheeseburger with the work and chili fries. To go."

"And?"

"What and? You defaced my wall with what I'm guessing was your supper order." He nods towards the foyer. "I left it by the door."

"Thanks. And I was trying to recapture a moment just so you know. I was trying to remind you of that day. You know when we were going to paint the diner and you showed me your dad's spot? The one with the order for hammer's or anvil's or something?"

"It was nail's and it's not the same. It's not even the point. I was going to do this soon." His wave seems to indicate the presence of his stuff in the house.

She turns to him and replies, a little forcefully, "You kept saying you were going to move in but nothing was happening. We're getting married in a couple of weeks."

"We are. I am. I was. But I wanted to take some time to go through things."

"Oy, and vay too! Look, I decided to speed things along. I packed, I moved. You can do the sorting here if you want but you're staying. right. here. Mister!" She moves her legs across his, effectively preventing any escape.

They sit there in silence for a few beats before he ventures "So, all those places. The porch, the town square, the church, the bench... We shared moments there?"

She nods, "Yep. The important ones." Pauses. "The unimportant ones. The in between times ones. Just so long as they involved you...and me."

A smile fights its way through his solemn expression. "You really enjoyed the whole cloak and dagger thing, didn't you?"

"It had a certain appeal. I've been rewatching "Charade" just to get it right."

"I can't believe you sent me on a wild goose chase."

"A mystery tour!"

"You're the mystery." He catches her gaze and shifts closer. He can feel a faint puff of her breath graze his nose.

She tilts her head forward. "Are you sorry we got back together?" She inhales slowly, letting his cologne sift through her senses.

He smiles - the curve of his lip tickling hers. "Never."

She stops him just short of his goal, confessing, "I wrote the order in erasable marker. Rory took away the permanent one."

He shrugs and speaks with a hint of teasing. "Maybe we'll cover it with shellac or something. I'd hate to see such a meaningful message wash away." He looks up into her eyes only briefly before erasing the distance between them.

-o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o-

She comes back from the kitchen clad only in his shirt and balancing two small glasses, a knife, a lemon and a bottle of amber fluid. "Oh Luuke!" she calls in a singsong voice.

He rolls over lazily on the couch, a strategically placed afghan covering his middle. He smirks as he watches her walk towards him, straightening suddenly when it occurs to him where they are and his current state of undress. "Oh geeze."

She laughs at his efforts to get decent, pushing him back with one hand while setting her load on the coffee table with the other. "Simmer down there fella. It's only me." She winks and then turns her attention to pouring the tequila.

"But what if?"

She scrunches her nose at him. "She's not here Luke. I sent her back to Yale four hours ago and right now she's probably studying her pretty little head off for midterms. She's not due to come up for air for ten days, six hours and oh, twelve minutes. I think we're fine."

"Someone else could come in," he offers lamely.

"Oh damn, salt!" She straightens and heads for the kitchen while continuing the conversation. "Who? It's 11:30 on a Tuesday night. Did you invite Kirk over for a sleepover? Miss Patty perhaps?" His dismay is evident when she reappears with the salt shaker, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh man. Don't even go there. I just meant…"

"I know Hun, but you worry too much. We're fine just the way we are."

"I just don't like the idea of lying around the living room… like this."

Delight flashes through her eyes. "You didn't seem to be complaining twenty minutes ago."

"Lorelai."

She shrugs in surrender and then passes him a shot glass. "Here."

He eyes the glass suspiciously. "What's this?"

"My old friend Jose Cuervo." When he makes no move to take a drink, she sighs and pats his thigh. "Look. Do you remember Lane's wedding?"

He looks at her blankly. "No. I was in Philadelphia, remember?"

"Right. April's trip. But that's not what I meant. What I meant was. When you were away and I was at Lane's wedding and I made a speech. A very bad, selfish speech."

He squints his eyes, trying to remember. "Didn't you get up and sing a song?"

She shakes her head. "No. That's the story Miss Patty and the rest of the town came up with. No. I was a cumulonimbus and Lane's wedding was my parade. I got up on stage in all my drunken glory and I gave a speech about how this lovely 21 year old girl was getting married and it was great but that I, I would never get married. And I went on and on until I stumbled off the stage. And the reason for all that?" She picks up the bottle. "Jose."

He reaches for her hand and gently slides the bottle and the shot glass out of it. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel…"

She waves him off. "Nah Luke. So not the point. Water under the bridge. I just. There's stuff I didn't tell you and I wanted to make sure that this time there wasn't anything held back."

"Such as?" She glances down as his thumb strokes the back of her knuckles and sighs.

"Such as that I got really drunk and made a fool out of myself because I wasn't being myself. I wasn't me and Christopher... he just wasn't you. God, there I was surrounded by everything and all I could think about was he wasn't you. So I got up on that stage and I looked across at everyone and the one person I wanted there, the one person I wanted to tell everything to wasn't there. But since Rory and Chris were, they got me home and put me to bed in spite of the fact that I didn't want it to be them putting me to bed. And I didn't want to go home because I didn't want to be alone. And the last thing I really didn't want was to wake up in the middle of the night and find Chris sitting on a chair in my bedroom, which was creepy and just wrong.

No, it should have been you. It should have been you I cried to when my parents bought us a house and it should've been you I ran to when I felt lost and most importantly, it should have been you I was waking up with the morning after the night I wanted to elope. I knew it then and I know it now. And the thing is, I like tequila. But I don't want it anymore, I don't want anything anymore unless it's with you."

He doesn't know how to respond to this. The new and the old information are competing for his attention. "Wait. Your parent's bought us a house?"

"Geeze," she teases, "A little slow on the haps aren't we?" She leans forward and places a demure kiss on his cheek. "It didn't go through. I think…"

He smiles and raises his hand to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "I wish it would have been me too."

They stare at each other, searching for some truth, some secret left hidden. But the moments tick by and they can find none.

Finally Luke picks up his glass and clinks it with hers.

"Cheers," she whispers. And this time she means it.