Here it is! The grande finale! I feel like it's been such a long time that I've been working on this story, and now at last this chapter in Gordo's life has been completed. If you are interested in moving onwards in this storyline, the next story that I have written in this Gordo-verse is Parker's Obsession. Check it out if you haven't already!

Once again, thanks to all my loyal readers. Your comments mean so much to me. And thanks to all my new readers as well. I hope I have entertained. I haven't quite yet got my next project planned out yet, but you can bet it will be Gordo centered! I have several ideas rolling around in my head, some of them inspired by conversations with some of my readers, so thanks, guys! I can't wait to see what might happen next.

Now, enjoy!

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Gordo's stomach churned with déjà vu.

He hurried down the street between his house and Lizzie McGuire's, a journey had made more times than he could count, since before he could walk and his mother would wheel him over in the baby carriage. Yet he knew the uneasy sensation he was experiencing now was due to the memory of one particular trip he had made to Lizzie's house, two Novembers ago.

Back then, Lizzie had not called him, but rather Miranda, and Gordo had to pry it out of Miranda that Lizzie was in distress. Knowing this, he had run out of the house and down this path. Tonight, however, he had heard Lizzie's sobs for himself, and even though so much time had passed and he and Lizzie were nowhere near as close as they used to be, none of that seemed to matter. Again, he was out the door, and down the path, not even thinking about what he was doing.

But as the uneasiness increased with the speed of his heartbeat, he took a deep breath and gave himself a swift kick in the brain. Okay, what was he doing? He and Lizzie were barely friends anymore. They said hello and good- bye, but not much else. She was not even interested in his friendship these days, never mind anything more. He was like a freaking brother to her, she had said, and it often occurred to him, in all the time that had passed since that revelation two Novembers ago, that considering Lizzie's relationship with her real brother, Matt, that was not necessarily a good thing.

Oh my God! Gordo felt sick. He braced himself. No, he was not going to let Lizzie McGuire get to him again. He was immune to her. He was going to be fine. He was going to find out what was wrong, give her a few token words of comfort, then call one of her real friends to sit with her, if that was what she needed. And where the hell was her family, anyway? He wasn't going to let himself get all wrapped up again in the drama that was Lizzie McGuire. He was immune.

But if he was immune, then why was he running like this?

That question unanswered, he bounded up Lizzie's front path, noting that the family van was not in the driveway, vaguely wondering if Lizzie's parents were also out on a Valentine's date, like his parents. Everyone was out on a Valentine's date, everyone but him and Lizzie. Hey! Why wasn't Lizzie---?
Now he was knocking on the door, even as these thoughts ran through his head. He really had to slow down. He had to keep his cool---

"Gordo?" came a weak voice from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, it's me," he answered, bouncing on his heels.

Instantly he heard the sound of the chain lock and the deadbolt being unfastened. The door opened slowly, but only a little, and in the crack he could just see Lizzie's long blonde hair swaying, and one bloodshot eye.

"Lizzie, it's me," Gordo confirmed. "Let me in."

"I don't want you to see me," Lizzie sniffed. "I look awful."

"Lizzie, you could never look awful," Gordo said instantly. Now why had he said that? Annoyed at himself, he got a bit gruff with her and added, "Look. Go into the kitchen and put a paper bag over your head, if it bothers you that much. I'll be right behind you, I'll relock the door for you. I know your parents are nuts about you keeping the door locked when they're not home. They're not home, right? What'd they do, go out on a date or something? And what about Matt? Isn't he home? Don't tell me he's----"

Through the crack in the door Lizzie gave Gordo one long, deadly stare, then suddenly she disappeared, and Gordo heard her sobs echoing in the hallway.

Oh, brother. He must have said the wrong thing. But Matt out on a date? The world was a changing kind of place, wasn't it?

But some things never changed. As he came into the foyer, he noted that the McGuire house looked exactly the same, smelled exactly the same. He shut the door and fastened the locks. He moved through the foyer into the living room, which was almost completely dark, yet instinct served him well. He had not forgotten anything. He easily maneuvered his way over to the couch, where Lizzie sat curled up in a ball, hugging a large chenille throw pillow.

Gordo sat down on the couch next to Lizzie. He took a deep breath. What to do? How to begin? "Look, Lizzie," he said plainly, "I'm sorry----"

"Oh yeah, that's right!" she snapped. "Rub it in, why don't you? My parents out on a date. My germ of a brother, out on a date. Everybody out on a date, everybody but me!" And then she was wailing again.

Gordo steadied himself. He was not going to be drawn into her web. "Not everybody," he said quietly. "I'm not out on a date."

"Oh, you!" Lizzie scoffed. "You're different. You're Gordo."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gordo shot back.

"Nothing bad," Lizzie said, giving him a look. "I just mean you were with Nicole so long, and now Nicole is gone, and nobody really expects you to bounce back from that so quickly. It's acceptable for you to be alone this Valentine's Day. But…but not me…cos…cos…"

As Lizzie began to weep again, Gordo sighed. "Oh God, what is it?" he asked. "Did that Britt break up with you?"

"Not Britt. Brad. And yes…yes…he did."

"That scum!" Gordo spit out. "When did he do it?"

"Tonight!" Lizzie cried. "Just…just a few hours ago. I was here, waiting for him to pick me up for our date, and then he calls and…and he says his uncle just flew into town, and he has these tickets for…for some sports thing, I don't know, I think he said it was basketball, I wasn't really listening. All I heard was him saying 'I know you'll understand,' but I didn't understand, and I told him I didn't understand, and then he accused me of being all possessive, and saying I was smothering him, and he said if I wasn't willing to give him a little space then maybe we should just….should just…." But at this point, no further words were possible.

As Lizzie sat on the couch crying, Gordo sat beside her trying his hardest not to be drawn in, but that was impossible. Nobody deserved to be treated like this, not even Lizzie McGuire who had broken his heart fifteen months ago by telling him she wasn't interested in him like that, she only liked him as a friend, and as a brother….

And now, as a friend and as a brother, Gordo found he could not help but reach out, pull the chenille pillow from between them and gather up the girl in his arms. He pat her back and whispered, "Calm down…calm down, Lizzie…everything's going to be okay…"

Lizzie cried even harder when he said this, and she squeezed him so tight that soon he felt her tears seeping through the front of his shirt. He felt her tears on his chest, hot tears melting his heart, which was breaking with hers, as he held her and continued to offer words of consolation, which he miserably knew were of no consolation whatsoever.

Then, finally, he willed himself to say what he had been thinking for some time, but his brain had been warning him to be careful. Lizzie was extremely vulnerable right now, to be sure, but so was he. There was way too much history between them. He feared it might be too easy to fall back into the old ways. He had to keep his wits about him. Especially now when he could smell the lovely scent of her perfume. He had to remind himself that she hadn't put on that perfume for him, she had put it on for Brad or Britt, whoever the hell that scum bucket was. The perfume was not for him. The softness of her skin was not for him. And this little pink dress, which was even now hiking its way up her thighs as he held her….not for him.

And so, reminding himself that none of this was for him, he pulled in a deep breath, and as the world's greatest guy friend, Gordo announced, "Lizzie, nobody deserves to be treated like that. That guy is just a creep, and you deserve so much better. You are a sweet, beautiful girl, with so much to offer the right guy. They're all a big bunch of losers, every last one of them that's ever let you go. If they can't see what a…what a…."

Gordo stopped and caught his breath. There were no words to describe Lizzie. And it was not often that he was at a loss for words. What was happening here?

"And if they can't see that," he went on boldly, "then that's their loss, not yours. They're immature idiots. Every last one of them. Not worthy. Immature idiots. God, I wish I was…like….I don't know, a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier and a …a wrestler or something, I would go over to Britt's house right now and knock the living shit out of him. I would just….I wish I could…."

Gordo suddenly realized Lizzie was no longer crying. She had lifted her head, and was looking right at him. "Gordo," she squeaked, "would you really?"

He looked at her. The room was dark, her face only illuminated by a dim light shining in from the back porch. He could clearly see every last tear, and yet…and yet she was so beautiful. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Oh, no. This could not be happening to him. Not again. Not now.

"I…I…" he stuttered, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Cos I…I don't need you to do that, Gordo. I don't want you to do that. I don't care about any of that," Lizzie said, and now her voice was calmer than before. "I don't care about those guys. And especially not about Brad. What a jerk! What was I thinking? Why have I been going out with such creeps, when all the time there's been…there is… this sweet, sensitive, caring guy right here, who's always been here, always been my friend, always been right by my side, no matter what, who still cares about me so much that the moment I call, whenever I'm in trouble, he----"

"Whoa!" Gordo said, pulling away from Lizzie. "Don't even try it. Why are you messing with me, McGuire?"

"I'm not messing with you, Gordo. I…I…."

"I think you're having a….I don't know, some kind of reaction…."

"Gordo! Why is it so hard for you to believe---?"

"Cos the last time we talked like this, McGuire, in case you don't remember, you very pointedly told me how you think of me as a friend and as a brother. And it's just too, too sick to even think of---"

"But I…I….oh, Gordo! Oh my God! Listen. I'm so…so sorry about that," Lizzie said desperately.

"What?" he exclaimed, now jumping back. "What are you telling me?" he demanded, taking a few steps away from the couch. "Lizzie, quit screwing around with me. I really don't need this right now."

"Gordo! I'm not screwing around!" Lizzie insisted. "I'm telling you now…finally….how I really feel."

"Wait a minute," Gordo said. "Are you telling me that you were lying when you said that bit about me being like a brother? That you don't really feel that way?" Gordo felt his head spinning, just to think of it.

Lizzie sat on the couch and grabbed the pillow again, hugging it in her lap. "I wasn't lying, Gordo…well, not exactly. I was…confused, I guess. I was in denial, probably. I can't explain it. And I can't explain why it's taken me this long to see it, but…but now I do. Gordo. Oh, God, Gordo. Now I do. Now, suddenly, I see everything so clearly. More clearly than I ever have before.

"I'm looking at you, right now, and I see you…I feel like it's for the first time. Is that weird? How long have we known each other? Like forever, right? But now, I'm looking at you, standing there…right here in my living room, in my very own house, where I've seen you a million times before, and…and…oh my God….Gordo…."

And there was something about the way she said his name. It went right into him, deep into him, deep into the part of him that was most of who he really was.

"Gordo…."

She said it again, and each time she said it, it was becoming more and more inevitable. But Gordo knew he had to try, one last time, to protect himself, to be reasonable.

"I'm not going to be your rebound guy, McGuire," he said quietly into the darkness.

Lizzie pushed the pillow to the floor again. She shifted on the couch a little, and now, Gordo noticed, almost despite himself, that the hem of her dress also shifted. He looked at the line of pink, and then he looked up into her face, and again his blood pulsed, but this time it did not freeze. His blood just kept pulsing and pulsing throughout his whole body, and the image and the sensation of Lizzie filled his body, more than it ever had before.

And then, as if this wasn't bad enough, he heard her say, so softly, in her sweetest Lizzie voice, "How can you be my rebound guy, Gordo, when …I think…in my heart of hearts….there's never really been anyone for me… but you?"

Gordo closed his eyes. How could this be happening?

"And I think," Lizzie went on, "if you let yourself consider it for just a moment, I mean, if you're honest with yourself, you'll realize there's never really been anyone for you….but me…."

No. He told himself no. He tried to ignore what was happening in his brain and in his body, and he tried to remember why he was saying no. There was this vague sensation, somewhere in the back of his mind, something about freckles….

Oh God. He couldn't think of who that was. He couldn't think of anything or anyone but Lizzie. His heart was beating so wildly as he saw her stand up and take a few steps towards him. The closer Lizzie got to him in that dark, quiet living room, the further away all other girls seemed. Nicole….Meryl….who were they? There was nobody but Lizzie.

Of course he knew that. He had always known that.

She was before him now. He didn't even have to think about what to do. He reached out and took her hands, and in that simple touch, there was no more denying.

The world was a changing kind of place, wasn't it? Well, some things changed, but some things would always stay the same. There would always be Lizzie McGuire, and he would always love her. There would always be Lizzie and Gordo. That much was certain. It just seemed they had both taken the long way around to this realization.

But now, as they held hands, and moved in towards each other, their lips getting closer and closer, strangely, at this moment, when everything should be spinning more wildly than he could bear, Gordo now felt… finally… calm.

As his lips approached Lizzie's, a single thought ran clearly through his mind.

Life, as I know it, is over.

And now, at last, that was a good thing.