One kind reviewer pointed out to me last chapter that this fic takes place on November thirty-first, but that November has only thirty days. To those of you who care, I crave your indulgence; but I beg you to deal with it. After all, this is a fictional story concerned with fictional characters with fictional relationships taking place in a fictional town. Why can't it happen on a fictional day?

On that pleasant note, I bring you the final installment in the 'Sunflowers' saga! Leave a review, and make a poor pathetic writer very happy!

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The Gilmore house stood dark and quiet, slumbering under the rain-washed sky, illuminated only the faint moonlight that seeped through the clouds. Moving slowly, like a lumbering animal with eyes that blazed in the darkness, an old Jeep crawled up the driveway, coughed once, and died; the door creaked open, spewing out a breath of stale carborator air and a woman who stumbled, yanked her heels out of the thick mud, and staggered across the lawn, her arms weighted down with bags.

Muttering incoherently to herself, Lorelai Gilmore stumbled up onto the porch, fishing with her foot amid the several ceramic animals that clustered around the front door, finally finding the turtle. She slid her foot underneath it, balancing its shell on her toes, until she had lifted it high enough to retrieve the glistening key from its mouth. Panting, she shifted most of the miscellaneous junk she was carrying to her left hand, using her right to jimmy the key into the doorknob until the door swung inwards. After examining the door and her own load, and realizing that the second would not successfully be able to navigate the first, she dropped one of her bags to the ground, hooking one foot through the handles, dragging it along after her as she managed to heave herself inside.

She was able to struggle through the door; but as she made ready to move into the foyer, the bag she was dragging caught on the threshold, tumbling her to the floor, spilling lipstick containers and earrings all over the living room floor.

"Rory!" she called, gathering up those casualties she could reach. "Rory, why'd you have to go off to college? Come back and help mommy or you don't get any lip gloss for a month!" She waited for this to have some kind of effect, for the sky to rip open perhaps, and disgorge Super Rory, able to try on clothes faster than anyone alive, with powers that could summon earrings from the farthest corners of the earth. When no such creature appeared, she was forced to worm herself free of the many bags that clung to her, kicking off her heels before rising unsteadily to her feet.

Free at last, she looked down at the mess she had made of her hallway, and made a face at it as though the lipstick had a collective mind of its own. She suddenly (and unsurprisingly) didn't feel like dealing with it; she swept the bags inside enough to close the door, and walked away, leaving a single tote bag sitting lonely on the porch.

"Her Gilmore-senses should be tingling any time now," Lorelai muttered, walking through the archway towards the kitchen. "Maybe if I de-alphabetize her books, that would bring her running." She stuck her head into Rory's empty room, muttering threats at the dictionary on the dresser. "How would you like that, huh? I'd put Poe before Orwell! That way you'd look for 'The Raven', and get that book about the pigs instead! And pigs aren't anything like ravens, so you'd cry and cry and cry…"

Satisfied that the dictionary was cowering in fear of her, Lorelai turned around – and her hand flew to her heart as she caught sight of the man sitting in the kitchen that she had expected to be empty.

"Luke!" she gasped in relief. "You scared me! What are you doing here?" She paused, glancing over at the calendar hanging limply from the fridge. "Today is –"

"I know what today is," He said slowly, calming her racing questions. She fell silent, watching him with her head cocked slightly to one side, eyes bright with curiosity and concern. The silence stretched between them; he observing, she waiting, fidgeting, tense under his complacent gaze.

Finally she could stand it no more. "What's wrong?" she burst out, with a need for sound that was almost childlike. "Do you need to talk? I mean, I wasn't expecting to see you today….."

He rose from where he had been sitting at the kitchen table, still in his coat, raindrops glimmering down the creases in his shoulders. "I wasn't expecting to see you today either," he replied softly. She opened her mouth to form a question, but he raised a hand to cut her off. "But I did see you. Everywhere I looked." She reminded him forcefully of a bird, rocking back and forth on her heels, in constant motion, as though dying to fly away.

"I usually go and visit my dad's grave every year, today," he began. "But today, for some reason…. I couldn't. Or I didn't want to. I don't know." He shrugged, becoming restless himself with the force of confession. "I felt like there was something – holding me here, something that kept me from leaving because I felt kind of afraid that things would be – different when I got back." He looked up at her, shuffling his feet like a little boy who was embarrassed at a tale he was telling. "Do you understand?"

She only nodded slightly, but that was enough. "So I just stayed in my apartment today," he continued, nervously. "And I was angry – angry at myself for not going, angry at the town for not letting me. So I was pacing around, looking at stuff, pulling out old junk that I hadn't had the heart to throw away. And I realized that the something was different, something is here today that wasn't here a year ago, and that something was keeping me from leaving Star's Hollow." He paused, taking in a deep breath that seemed to calm his nerves, his eyes never leaving her face. "You."

She started, opening her mouth to defend herself, to comfort him, which one he didn't know. But before she could he was speaking again, his even, measured voice never permitting her to burst out like she so obviously wanted to. "I realized that the thing I was afraid of was that you wouldn't love me when I came back. I was afraid that these past few weeks have been a dream, and that leaving the town would wake me up somehow, would force me out into the world and never let me come back." He breathed in deeply, waiting for her to explode in mindless chatter, or for her to say something profound and quieting, to surprise him with one of the amazing insights he knew she was capable of. But she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"There's a lot against us, Lorelai," he breathed out, forcefully. "There are a lot of people who would like nothing more than to see us apart. Your parents, Christopher, Taylor with his stupid charts –" she allowed herself a small smile, and he crossed the space between them, taking her hands in his, staring deeply into her eyes. "I was afraid that they would tear us apart, and I knew that I couldn't live without you. But now I know they won't. Because I won't let them." He leaned down and kissed her, a brief but lingering kiss that left the two of them reeling, leaning against the kitchen wall. "I love you, Lorelai Gilmore," he murmured, releasing her hands and wrapping his arms around her, holding her to him tightly. "I don't say it enough, I couldn't possibly say it enough, because I won't live long enough to say it as many times as I should. I love you, Lorelai Gilmore, and I always will."

He kissed her again, deep and soulfully this time, silencing the echo she had been about to voice. Her answer died in her throat, and she put all of her love and devotion into the kiss instead, so intent on the feeling of him pressed against her that she didn't notice the slender stem that he pressed into her hand.

"Good-bye," he whispered, breaking the kiss at last, letting his forehead rest against hers for a moment before pulling away and slipping out the back door. Her head spinning from his farewell, thought clouded by the force of his passion, she only managed to stagger over to a chair before her legs gave out completely. Leaning her head on her hand, she felt something graze her lips; looking down at her hand, she saw a single sunflower sprouting between her fingers, gleaming with all of the warmth and love that she felt in that moment. And she knew, with a sudden, senseless certainty, that sunflowers would never vanish from her life; because they had become eternally bound up with Luke in her mind and in heart, and she would love Luke forever.

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The End!

P.S. I've seen the panic that's been on the web lately about Luke's possible illegitimate daughter, but I'm an episode behind and I don't know what's going on. Would someone fill me in? What's the panic? What happened? Would ASP dare to turn Gilmore Girls into a soap opera on us? Tell me, please!