DISCLAIMER: You know I don't own them, but as it's required by fanfiction law, I must remind you that Amy Sherman-Palladino created Gilmore Girls, Hofflund-Polone helped produce it, Warner Bros. Television put them on the air, and David Rosenthal was more than likely enchanted by shiny objects or Project Runway repeats while he was executive producer(get over it dude, she's married to Seal). I still can't explain Olivia and Lucy however, I think they got lost on the way to Gossip Girl or that CW infomercial they air every Sunday night. Or they were looking for Zoey 101. Who knows, they weren't Madeline and Louise.
All the programs, networks, universities and products mentioned within are the property and trademarks of their respective owners, and no disrespect is meant or implied. The spelling bee jokes were based on humor seen on Cheap Seats from Randy and Jason Sklar, an ESPN Classic production. I know I don't have to credit them, but I feel better doing so.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been very surprised at the positive feedback I've seen from the first chapter of this story. I wrote it as if it could be a one-shot if it didn't happen to work out that Paris and Lorelai weren't an in-demand couple, but even though this was posted to fewer venues than usual, I still received wonderful reviews and positive feedback about what I could do in future chapters, so thank you to all my reviewers for their kind words.
I did want to bring up one question addressed by a reviewer; why I'm using 'Lor' and 'Par' as the women conversate with each other, when the 'Lor' name apparently has a history with Lorelai/Christopher shippers. Personally, I don't read L/C fics and stay away from them entirely as you might know from my past stories and author's notes, and I don't think that guy should have ownership over a nickname. To put it simply, Paris is a blunt girl. She would shorten Lorelai's name, and you have to remember this is femslash. The awkwardness of another guy using that name with her isn't there for Lorelai, and in the heat of passion they aren't going to use full names. Do I see Luke using it? Not really, because we've seen them on-screen and in many stories and that he uses her full name. But Paris is comfortable with nicknames well enough that she could definitely get away with calling her 'Lor'. Whatever history that name has with Lorelai within her relationships, it doesn't matter to me because these are women growing towards realizing they love each other, and the focus should be on their relationship, not what they call each other. Also, Paris is about to leave school here, so she can become more relaxed and use 'Ms. Gilmore' less than she had to during her time at Chilton. I hope this clears up that question.
You may note that this chapter is a bit rough...unfortunately I ran into a force too great for even me to overcome...my beta Danielle's last semester of college. I still love her though, even if school's keeping her from doing things she really likes to do...well, almost ;) (Hint, it involves another adorable young woman named Shannon, who is so perfect for her in every way). Thus, beyond a couple of once-overs here and there, I am putting this out unbetaed, so if there's anything to fix, please, let me know. Also thanks to The Raven for her views on the first chapter, which were much appreciated and welcomed. I really enjoy reading her reviews, and the long ones with plenty of points are the ones keeping me pounding out the words in Word.
I'm hoping once again this inspires others to try out Lorelai/Paris and I want to read your feedback and stories to compare and contrast if you do. Also, remember this will be written in times where I have low Longing inspiration, so updates are more here and there than they are with that. Still, enjoy and let me know how you liked it so I can write more!
SPOILERS: Nothing spoiled; between Here Comes the Son and Those Are Strings, Pinocchio. Again, Paris is undecided about going to college, Lorelai's ready to buy the Dragonfly, and both Rory and Jess are Boston-bound. Also I bumped up the auction one day after graduation for future plotting purposes because we're not confined to 44 minutes in fanfiction and Lorelai deserves to concentrate only on getting the inn.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

The Innkeeper's Lover
By Nate


Chapter Two
A Growing Connection

"Gah, why do I bother paying Comcast $100 a month? I have all the channels I could ever need, yet I can only choose from COPS, three year-old multiplex duds, one Lifetime movie, another Lifetime movie on the Lifetime devoted to only Lifetime movies, and awful teen shows? No wonder there's no one watching TV on a Saturday night!'

That grumble, emanating from one Lorelai Gilmore as she circuited around the channels on her couch, was currently defining this last Saturday of May, where she was stuck at home alone, while her daughter had somehow talked her into staying upstairs at the diner as Luke made his annual post-Memorial Day trip up to the Berkshires to fish. Though she was leery about exactly what Rory and Jess were doing up in that apartment, she put it out of her sight and mind for her own sanity. She was thankful that her offspring had spent $30 on things like spermicides and other items to add onto the protection of her birth control pills, 'better really, really safe than sorry' being the watchwords that assured Lorelai that the Harvard freshman would not meet her same fate.

Her mind wasn't on that however, since it was now in the upper 400's, watching the blurs of guys using fat sticks to hit small balls on various channels with weird initials, like YES, MSG, OLN, NESN, FSN, ESPNEWS, GRUNT, BOOM, MESTRONGSPORTSGUY. Well, those last three were within the woman's alphabet soup of her mind, though they weren't real networks. "I knew I shouldn't have turned down more Dragonfly research with Sookie," she said to herself, feeling like she'd never find something to watch. She wasn't in a movie mood, nor did she have any inclination to turn on Channel 59's horrible 80's movie of the weekend which filled time when UPN was off for the weekend for mocking material.

Eventually though, she found something to enjoy, and finally rested the channel buttons when she hit What Not to Wear. This week's featured catastrophe for Stacy and Clinton to deal with, some alderwoman in suburban Kansas City looking to be mayor of her town, but still stuck thinking Florence Henderson was the height of a well-dressed woman. "Plenty of Wessonality, but no personality," Lorelai quipped after she cracked up watching the secret footage reveal in the Common Council room in front of her constituents and close personal friends. "This is going to be fun, she has some potential."

She continued to watch, zoning out of her current life with her daughter sowing her wild oats, while her love life had come to a screeching halt. Thoughts of being a future cat lady danced in her head for a bit, at least until the show got to Lorelai's favorite part, the 360° mirror, where the unlucky recipient of the gift card had their wardrobe and current style mocked.

Slowly, her concentration started to wear towards other things, especially when Stacy had her hands all over the contestant, going over each of the flaws of her outfit, how she could do better with her accessories and a different cut of skirt. Those hands sliding and pushing all over the woman, in a usually innocent way.

Except, Lorelai found herself returning to ten days ago, and that afternoon in the classroom with Paris, in her mind. Every moment of their meeting on the desk was now etched into her mind, and the slim feel of the girl's fingers inside of her had slowly turned her sex dreams from a romantic Darcy type sweeping her away in various modern and historic guises, and instead towards a direction where she felt pleased only with a woman as her sexual partner.

Specifically, Paris. She couldn't stop thinking of the girl at all, and it had changed her view of women. Before, she tried her best not to think of them as sexual objects, easily done since the only other woman she had dreamt of being with was Luke's old flame Rachel, and that was only a three-day detour before she realized that there was no way they could work out, just based on Rory's reaction alone from a small joke.

Whenever the blonde savant came to her mind since then, however, Lorelai found herself a mess of nerves. She couldn't think of another time where a sexual afterglow took so long to fade. The girl's words, how much trust she put into Lorelai for her ranting about Jamie, she couldn't forget all of them, because Paris had never had a close friend who listened to her, no matter how much she seemed to make everyone feel uncomfortable with her uninhibited candor.

It also moved into Lorelai's real life, as she took closer looks at the women in her coffee table magazines, spending more time looking at the young celebrities than she did reading the editorial content on beauty supplies. And for some reason, she found herself watching an entire episode of J.A.G. Tuesday evening after work, a show she usually mocked as silly and old, "Matlock on a Boat" as she called it once.

It had nothing to do with how Catherine Bell filled out a naval uniform at all. At least that's what she kept telling herself, over and over again in her mind as the hour went on and she ate cheese puffs whenever the lead guy got on-screen, she didn't even really look at him at all as she watched, keeping her eyes on the leading lady. Not that she was looking, really. Or finding herself licking her lips at how Paris could probably do better than Catherine at wearing that, while getting off her client with a strong case.

I didn't mean 'get off' literally!! She screamed internally as she got up on Wednesday morning after having an intense sexual dream between her and Paris like that which shocked the heck out of her, and left her sheets damp.

She was thankful not to see Paris all week, trying to avoid staying out of her way as Rory went on and on about how Paris was driving her crazy with last-minute demands to make their last Franklin issue the best ever, and at the same time, driving through several things in student government that would be nice now, but regretted in the next year by underclassmen. The Paris of old was back, Rory was telling Lorelai, and that one moment in time that they shared was going to be fleeting and would have to be treasured forever, because it would never happen again.

She knew Paris being intense was an everyday modus for her. But for once, Lorelai wanted to tell Rory that she was most likely overreacting to how she really was, and that she should calm down, because it was hyperbole. "She's kind," she told herself as she thought of her in a quiet moment at Friday night dinner. "Does no one see this, and will they ever?" The new perspective softened how the woman felt about the intense girl, that it was a defense mechanism for her rather than just how she acted, period. Recalling the evening in February after Paris learned Harvard didn't want her, the empathy she felt as the girl's heart broke and she wished she could have been the one to be the shoulder for her to cry on, recalling her own moment (and subsequent week in isolation) after the strip turned pink. That she had no one to talk to at all before she decided to announce her rejection, it had affected her. She wished she could take back all the worse things she thought of her.

That exploring Paris was with her as she began to involuntarily wander her hands on her shirt as she watched Stacy 'size up' the woman. The touching was more at her end, but she enjoyed the feel of those slim fingers on her, showing her that Paris was the type to wander and play, even during the most bodice-ripping of encounters. Her thoughts wandered to the girl playing Stacy and squeezing her hips with her hands, the girl's soothing monotone replacing the dry voice of the dark-haired lady with the proud grey streak in her hair. She couldn't even imagine Paris going into fashion design, but the thoughts she was having were so appropriate to her fantasy.

As the hosts went on and on while the lady tried to defend her 'Wardrobe by Dress Barn', she moved on herself, thinking of Paris's classic combination of casual wear, a sweater paired with a form-flattering set of pants, usually corduroys, and how much the fashion showed off her womanly curves perfectly. She had a feeling that she had been oft-mocked for her conservative wardrobe, but she always came back to places where the girl barked at her for something silly like a wrong food choice that would affect their debate strategy, or having Rory zig when she wanted a zag. Paris had a mean streak within Lorelai's mind, but she used it perfectly to get what she wanted. Never mind that the authoritative tone of voice she carried with her had been the major force to drive her to orgasms before bed and in dreams as of late.

"Parissssss..." Lorelai hissed as she kneaded a breast through the flannel shirt, at first trying to resist the call to get herself off in such a way, but finding her sex drive beginning to rev up. She had starved herself of fulfillment the last three days due to other obligations, and to try to bring herself off without the help of her one-afternoon stand. Remembering how she was touched, and Paris's voice though, along with how she might look within something that her favorite makeover show host would wear, she fondled herself, thinking of Paris admonishing her for not having a dress bodice fitted to accentuate her bust.

For once, she was thankful that she decided to have a wild night, going without sleep bottoms, content with the oversized flannel shirt covering down to mid-thigh. Fondling herself, she had an imaginary conversation with Paris, thinking of them in a mirrored room, Paris behind her as her fingers roamed the woman. She thought of herself in a t-shirt/jean skirt combination that she knew would piss Paris off, and the effect within the daydream helped her along.

"Ooohhh, shit." Lorelai thought of herself being revered by the girl, bringing all her strangled thoughts through the week to the forefront. All the stress of trying to go after the Dragonfly built inside, along with not seeing the girl all week. She also felt a touch of jealousy, thinking that Paris would talk down Jamie like she suggested, and that things were better between them. For some reason, her inner monologue wasn't rooting for that end result.

But she wanted Paris to get her way, and thinking about her be assertive was getting her hot. Thinking of Paris's hands as hers, she kneaded her nipples through the shirt, and brushed against her stomach, her body so sensitized and tightened in anticipation. She was doing things slowly, warming herself towards moving things up to her bedroom, glad to have the house empty so she could be as loud as she wanted while she tried to get herself off.

She went on and on, nipples prominent in her current laying position through the flannel, dreaming of Paris helping her with undergarments. Her voice, tired and hushed, was used to relay the fantasy as an audible reality in her mind. Down from her stomach, she slid her hand across her mid-section until she was at the hem of the flannel, preparing to unbutton the shirt from the bottom to hasten the process further. So tight and wound up, Lorelai was on a tenterhook, her eyes shut as her fingernails brushed against the exposed top of her thighs...

"God, I want you Par..." A sound was heard from the front foyer. She couldn't figure it out immediately, rising up, her eyes widening to wonder what it was. Out of habit, she threw the sofa throw across her body, to cover up despite her lack of nudity and buttoned up. Her blue eyes immediately darted towards the source, where she waited a few seconds to see if it was just some fly-by-night home mortgage broker posting an encouragement to refinance on her door, or something else besides that.

It wasn't that; she then heard a hard knock on the bottom of the door, below the glass. Lorelai was startled by how strong the noise was. Who could that be? She hadn't expected any company at all, and could only guess who it might be. She smirked, thinking of one possibility. Christopher was probably left alone with Gigi for the first time. He doesn't know how to burp her, and he needs my help. Laughing to herself at first, the next thought she had was on the other spectrum entirely.

No, it couldn't be. Mom? God, I hope not, what could she ever want? Probably to spend six hours tonight trying to iron down the dress Rory's going to wear at graduation. Never mind it won't be seen under her robe at all. She hesitated, but a third knocking brought her out of her haze at trying to find out her houseguest through her lacking psychic abilities. She got up, pushing down the shirt as far as she could, and made her way to the front foyer.

Just in case someone was trying to strong-arm her, she grabbed an umbrella for protection in the foyer. The frosted glass blocked her view of the guest, and she had to ask aloud as to who was knocking.

"Ms. Gilmore," the person's voice asked. "Is Rory here?"

Lorelai immediately rested the umbrella up against the wall, relaxed hearing the familiar voice, but only for a moment. Her motherly instinct kicked in because of a hesitation she heard within the question.

Opening the door, she was surprised at 9 o'clock on the Saturday before final exams, to find Paris, who she knew should have been in the middle of Long Island Sound south of Bridgeport on the Grad Night cruise, on her doorstep instead.

Not the usual strong and independent woman she found herself knowing, however. Still, knowing she couldn't breach privacy, Lorelai had to hold back probing further.

"She's out with Jess tonight, Paris, at Luke's." The small slip of a woman was staring down at her shaky hands, clutching the thin strap of her handbag with a death grip. She was dressed up well, but Lorelai was too concerned to stare at her for long, wondering what Paris might want. "Did you want me to call her, I'm sure--"

Paris held up her free hand, sighing. Her voice was normal, hiding the turmoil of the moment. "I guess I'll depart then. Obviously she's not in the position to help me out." She looked up at Lorelai, her solemn features betraying her current appearance. "I'm sorry to have taken time from you."

As Paris apologized, Lorelai knew something was wrong from how Paris was in front of her. Usually standing proudly, the blonde was slouching where she was, her shoulders tense, the burgundy open-toed heels she wore stressing her feet. But it was her face that gave Lorelai a true picture of what was wrong.

She had always envied Paris's clear skin, but Paris was so pale in front of her, it was if she had all the life sucked out of her. Her cheeks, flecked with streaks of mascara, the carefully applied lip color around each of her lips mussed along them, out of place. Her eyes were red, and Lorelai needed no closer examination to know that the girl had probably been crying, up to the moment she opened up the door.

Lorelai knew what she was about to be told...she dealt with it moments after Dean's misconstrued confession of love to Rory.

Only she knew that this time, it would be so much worse.

Paris tried to turn away after her apology, preparing to call her driver back and grabbing her cell phone. She has no need for my problems, she thought to herself. Better leaving them unmocked by her.

She was surprised to find Lorelai reaching out with one of her hands, and she grasped the hand holding the small grey device. She moved closer to take Paris into her.

"Paris, I have ears too." Her hand resting on Paris's shoulder, she tried to calm her jitters. "I might not be her, but you need someone to talk to, right?"

Paris nodded at her, but again, tried to hold back. "I do, but I shouldn't bother you."

"I don't have anything better to do, there's nothing on TV, and my daughter is doing who knows what with that boy. Being here is giving me a respite from wanting to choke Hildi for another one of her hideous decorating choices."

"Hildi? Who is she?" Paris directed a strange look at Lorelai, and she shook her head.

"Never mind." She smiled, guiding Paris into the house and shutting the door, closing off her escape route. "The point is, I'm not letting you leave here without venting and calming down, you look like you need it." She stared at Paris while Paris draped her bag by the strap on the coat rack on the other side of the front foyer.

"I don't though," Paris denied, her voice betraying her in that moment and cracking, "I'm fine, it's nothing you need not be concerned about."

Lorelai sternly suggested otherwise. "The way you knocked on that door, you actually need to talk." She watched Paris start to fall apart in front of her eyes, looking defeated, filled with sorrow. "Come on, tell me what's happening."

For the woman, getting Paris to talk about her problem was on par with having Michel and Sookie have a civil conversation for five minutes, if not impossible, a major exercise in frustration. Paris tried to deny any kind of problem, finding her way around all of Lorelai's openings over the next five minutes to start a discussion. The blonde tried to avert with talk about school matters, but was unsuccessful. Annoyance began to set in, and Lorelai felt like she was talking to another person in Hartford society who was just as stubborn as Paris, who just happened to have mothered her.

"Ms. Gilmore, there's nothing to say," Paris implored, sitting on the couch, looking at her hands. "I would rather talk to Rory about these problems!" She rolled her eyes, trying to communicate that should take herself out of the situation.

"Paris, come on, you need to get real here! You should be on a boat, but instead you're here, looking for a shoulder to cry on!"

"I don't cry!"

"Oh, can the 'we don't show emotion' bullshit, Par!" Right in her face, Lorelai found herself becoming angry with the girl. "You can't repress your feelings all the time."

"I can and I will," Paris stated. "I have to talk about things in a calm, rational..." As she struggled to find words, Paris started to feel the stresses of the night come back to her, which she was holding back for her own sake. "I have to...have a clear head about this. I won't let my feelings get to me."

"If you're so calm, why are you here?" Lorelai looked down at her, conveying concern as she continued to watch Paris's 'calm' hands shake, a leg bobbing up and down with a nervous energy. "And what feelings are going through you exactly?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't say anything." Paris's lip quivered as she tried to dissuade. "How...how do you...how can you put this into words? I mean I've done everything right, doing all the perfect things, gave up some of my control issues, and--" As she went on, the blonde's voice became wracked with cries, her eyes cast down to the coffee table. Lorelai noticed that the girl was hyperventilating, her stomach rising and falling in and out.

"Paris, come on, nothing leaves this room." She set her hand down on Paris's; hoping the familiar touch would calm her down.

"I'm a failure." Paris said them, and then broke out into a sob. "Harvard doesn't want me, Rory wants nothing to do with me, and now Jamie..." Her usual statuesque composure was lost in the confession as her eyes tightened, and Lorelai watched her cry.

"What happened with Jamie?" She was in shock, hearing from Rory only three days before that Paris was willing to work it out with him to the end.

"More like what's not happening with him!" Paris looked up at her, and they began to move closer together. "He...he...he picks me up in the limo, and--on the way down to the harbor, he says that we need to talk." Trying to calm herself down, she bit down on her lip. "At first, I didn't think it was serious, but we get on the parkway, and suddenly, Jamie, he...he sprung something on me." A pause for hesitation, she brings up the courage to remember the moment. "He asked me if I had decided on a college yet."

"Have you?"

Paris shook her head, and from there, told Lorelai all about the limo ride from Hartford to Bridgeport, and how everything fell apart for her. Of how, instead of having a quiet and romantic ride down, maybe getting in a few snogs, she was treated to her boyfriend whining that he needed to have his rental agreement firmed up by Tuesday, and that she needed to decide whether she was going to the Shore for the summer or not.

"I told him that I could visit, but living there wasn't happening. I have my nanny moving to Idaho in July to set up a knitting business, and I want to get her settled in before heading off to college. He's never understood my cling to her, but really, she's pretty much my true mom, she understands me more than Sharon." She sighed, recalling his reaction. "He thought I was being selfish though, and said that if I wanted to I could go to Idaho for a week with her, but no longer."

"Then he started to go into the whole 'Princeton will be good for you' speech, again!" Watching the woman in front of her react with shock, Paris gave Lorelai all the details of how that went. "And...I just wanted to tell him I don't want to go there, I have negative opinions about the school that I just can't get over, especially of his clique and fraternity. Frankly, I don't see myself enjoying the curriculum there."

"Did he end it there?" Lorelai tried to keep her focus on Paris's eyes, but was having problems, trying to keep her own averted from her deep cleavage.

"Oh, how I wish he did." Paris rolled her eyes as she got to another attempt to rein her in. "He then said if Princeton was unacceptable, surely I wouldn't mind Penn."

Lorelai felt her fists clench, really wanting to see Jamie in pain. "How is that any better?"

"It isn't. He's trying to control me, like he did his ex in high school." She furrowed her brow, looking down at her lap. "I talked to her Thursday night, and she's at Arizona now. It seems like her breakup happened for the same reason. Once she said where she was going, he got angry with her, verbally abusive, domineering. She also didn't want to do the Shore thing last year, but eventually did after her parents whined about her not getting out of the house. It didn't take her but two weeks in New Jersey before she ditched him and joined her friends in Australia for their summer trip."

"So this is a pattern with him." Paris nodded. "He harangues you until he gets his way and become his little plaything."

"You could say that."

"I take it you're just as cool to Penn as you are Princeton."

Paris hesitated for a moment. "Penn is a joke, really. They might have a thriving off-campus scene, but their dorms are cramped, their medical program seems a little too packed in order for me to score one-on-ones with the professors, and frankly, I can't imagine myself so far away from the megapolis. It's true I'd be right between New York and DC, but its way too far from home, and Philly just isn't a town I've really taken to."

"Well, that and their mascot is the guy on the oat container." Lorelai smiled, trying to lighten things up. "Quakers? Really? Who plays him, Wilfred Brimley?"

For the first time that evening, Paris giggled, humored by the idea of cheering on a team represented by an anachronism. "Heck if I know, I don't even know what the Princeton mascot is, that's how 'not even close' it is on my list. I'll attend Princeton Community College before I attend the University. But yeah, I told him there was no way I was going to Penn."

"So that was it?"

Paris shook her head. "Would you believe he then said I should lower my standards and look at Rutgers, 'Nova, and Temple?" Rolling her eyes, she seethed. "Fucking Temple? Are you kidding me? Three words; low athletics GPAs. What makes him think I'd go there if their damn team can't even win a football game or a C in the classroom!"

"If you say he wanted you to look in Delaware next..." Lorelai jokingly threatened with a lightly closed fist.

"Oh, he didn't," Paris said. "But finally, he suggested; are you ready for this?" Paris's voice softened as she tried to find the words to describe Jamie's last offer. Nodding, Lorelai signaled that she was listening, and brought herself closer, wanting to hear what final cockamamie idea the boy had for her.

"He suggested that I live off my trust fund, abandon school, and..." As she recalled his words, Paris tried to keep herself composed. It was turning into a struggle, however. "He thought that maybe I could be less, and this is the word he actually used with me." Cringing, she spat it out like it was a profanity. "I'd be less snippy if I decided that I would want to be a...a..."

"Something Louise aspires to?" Lorelai knew what was next, the same term that Straub and Francine Hayden would have tried to define her life under if she hadn't decided to be independent. "Please, tell me he did not use those two words on you."

"He...he said them. He said if I had such a hard time choosing, I should be a...trophy wife. That I didn't need school." Paris began to feel the tears coming. "I should give up."

"How did you respond?" As Lorelai watched the girl break down, she felt bile rising in her throat that Jamie had blown his final chance. She remembered how firm and devoted Paris was that it was the end if he didn't bite.

"I...I slapped him." She looked down at her lap, her face reflecting the building anguish. "Then I told him about my dream, how much being a cancer researcher meant to me, that I would go to the ends of the earth to attain it. If I had to go freeze my ass off up at Alaska-Anchorage, so be it. No one here on American soil wants me? I'm sure McGill in Montreal would happily enjoy me as a student. I poured my heart out to him, told him that the school didn't matter to me. I made it clear though, that if he wanted me, he would follow me anywhere I wanted to be."

Stumbling over her words through a sob, the blonde then made it known what the nail in the coffin was. "I gave the most passionate monologue I've ever had, off my head, ad-libbing, giving him a final thread to latch on to. And then he just turned around in his seat, faced away from me." Handing over a tissue, Lorelai's heart lurched as Paris took her hand tightly. "He said to me, 'Enjoy your life without me, Gellar', shut himself off from me, and called...he called...oh God."

"What...what did he do?"

"He called his friend at Princeton and told him he was on the market again!'"

With that last word, Paris lost her tenuous grip on calmness, relaying that her last words to him as she got out of the limo in the Gilmore driveway was a cold 'I hate you' which didn't receive a response. She had offered her heart, only to be turned down, and Lorelai did the only thing she could in the situation.

She offered her shoulder, and her arms, and wrapped around tight as the petite young woman cried for her lost love. Lorelai found her almost inconsolable, but used her motherly instincts to assure Paris that it wasn't the end of the world for her. "You still have so much to live for," she reassured, "there will be others out there for you, I just know it."

Paris shook her head, trying to argue that there wasn't, but the sobbing blocked her from forming any words. Just hours before, she was composed and beautiful, all made up, her hair perfectly sleek and shiny, done up in an upswept style, with curls and other beautiful embellishments.

But now she was plain, tired and exhausted. In Lorelai's arms, she wished that she could act on her building feelings for the woman, built up since she left that classroom a week and three days before, using them as a distraction to dampen her sadness over Jamie.

I would be in the wrong though, she thought to herself, knowing that she'd rather have the older woman's friendship than nothing at all. As Lorelai told her that she didn't deserve such a jackass and rocked her back and forth in her arms, Paris pushed any romantic thoughts with Lorelai towards the back burner, just wanting comfort and understanding for the moment. It was all that she truly needed.

She was free, away from Jamie, at least physically. But as she began to settle down from her venting, she didn't know what was going to happen next with Lorelai. But she was going to keep herself from thinking of the brunette as a sexual object, no matter how much she was pained, wishing that she was the one for the woman. To be involved with the 'Scandal Girl', as some of the snider society mavens called Lorelai, would be a kiss of death for her.

Quieting her sobs, she was able to take in Lorelai's words of wisdom. "How could he be so cold and hateful towards you at all? I just don't get it, you were willing to give him one more chance, another opportunity to make things right."

"He's so traditional though, really. I don't agree with him on a lot of things, but he loved me, and I loved him. I wanted to make it work out, even if we didn't agree on everything."

"I know, I know," Lorelai said, rocking her back and forth in her arms. "The thing with you is, he's not seeing how you were last year, or the year before. You're changing your ways to come off kinder and more empathetic, and I've seen that with you through the bitter moments you've had. Before, you would have blown up, but now you calm before you speak."

Paris confessed that maybe she'd never know the trigger point for Jamie's attitude change. "All I know now is that my future isn't with him."

"Good riddance to heavy baggage." Lorelai smiled, letting her grasp slide from Paris. "Trust me, you'll bounce back. It's in your blood to do so, Paris. Pretty soon, all the ditzy sorority pledges at your new school will be running for their lives when you protest them using a Bratz doll as their mascot or something or other." She smiled towards the girl, her right hand on Paris's left wrist. "This is just a bump in the road, a problem to be dealt with. And actually..." she brought herself close to whisper in her ear. "One day you'll get to debate him on Fox News over stem cell research via satellite, and you will make him cower out of the studio with your kick-ass points."

Despite her usually serious self, Paris laughed at Lorelai's remarks, blushing a bit from how close she was to her. She could smell the woman's hair, a mix of an unplaceable berry blended with orchids within her shampoo. Shuddering internally, she tried to keep herself back on the track of wallowing over Jamie, rather than the overwhelming desire she felt for the older woman.

"I will, won't I?" Paris blushed, trying to be modest.

"Will? You're probably the only one who could make Bill O'Reilly pee his pants, you're that passionate." The first part of Lorelai's statement was said in her normal smart-aleck way, but when she reached the last word, her voice suddenly took a low timbre, as if she was trying to restart her flirting with Paris. She felt her heart hammer against her chest as she looked for a reaction from Paris, while her eyes widened. Please, don't have noticed that inflection change. It wasn't meant that way, honest. She felt Paris still for a moment, before returning to normal. Lorelai hadn't felt so nervous around someone for at least a couple of years.

Like the time she tried to break up with Max in the classroom, as she reminded herself.

Of course, that had lead her to remember who was watching that failed 'break up' in the window of the classroom door. Funny how circles define us, 'cause this one is full, she thought to herself, wanting to hold back building emotions.

She had to find a way to distract herself, and maybe help Paris recover for awhile and calm her nerves. For some reason, her heartbeat remained hard and fast, even after pulling away from the girl. For some reason, her sex hormones were suddenly on a full alert.

"Um, Lorelai?" Paris distracted her, her voice soft, and a bit tired. The elder Gilmore jarred her attention back towards her. "I would...I mean, I've heard that you wallow at the end of relationships, is that right?"

Wallowing. Yes, I can talk about that, it's safe and usually sex and anything else is out of sight, out of mind. I can do that. Smiling, Lorelai nodded in the affirmative. "Anything special you'd like to do?"

Paris shrugged. "Actually, for right now, I'm all cried out, sort of exhausted from all of these pre-grad preparations and tired." Pausing to think about what she wanted, she had to run far, far away past a white elephant of a statement that simply consisted of "You." But she managed to keep her wits and come up with a minor list of things. "I know you're not much for cooking, but do you have any cocoa packets in the house?"

"With marshmallows, yes."

"Can you make me a mug up of it later?"

"You can't live it up just a little?" Lorelai shook her head. "Swiss Miss is for sucky dates which end with your toes stepped on during a dance. I think you're looking for cookie dough fudge ice cream more. Now that is the ultimate first break-up kind of treat for yourself."

"But I--"

"Will get lactose pills for you, my treat, everything." She grabbed a piece of old mail from the coffee table and a pen next to it, and wrote down items on a list. "How about hot fudge with it? It's hot, like hot chocolate."

Thinking about it for a moment, the girl went over it, and against her better judgment, ceded to the crazy woman. "Before I do that though, I want to rest for awhile, take a nap."

"Alright," she agreed. "Like for how long?"

"About a couple hours." Paris looked down while she yawned softly. "Can I nap on your couch, please, Ms. Gilmore?"

Lorelai smiled, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. Since you dropped the proper name on me, I'm sending you up to my room." A pause, as Paris directed an odd look at Lorelai. "But I would have anyway, since you'd either have to be batty, or my mother, to consider this thing a comfortable place to lie down."

"I won't impose--" Paris was stopped immediately by Lorelai taking her by the hand and helping her up.

"On what, me staying up until 4 o'clock going over exciting liens and awesome promissory notes while watching QVC for background chatter?" Another smile directed towards Paris. "I need to run to Doose's anyways, and if you'd like I can make you some mac and cheese."

"What kind?" Paris cast a wary eye towards her, knowing that even with the innkeeper's friendship with a master chef, she still made a soupy Kraft dinner.

"Fine, Easy Mac!" Lorelai confessed. "Sure, rub it in that I can barely sustain myself on anything that doesn't come on a menu, my best friend, or the line 'cook on HIGH for 5 minutes' next to it."

"Hey, it'll do, I'm not in much of a position to complain." Paris serenely smiled, feeling a load off her shoulders at being able to grieve. "So you're sure, in your room?"

"For tonight, me cama es tu cama. I'll get you up around eleven o'clock and then we can pig out and just be two wild and crazy gals. Also, if you'd like I won't mind you staying overnight."

"I'm kind of stuck out here," Paris admitted. "I sent my driver home for the rest of the night; if I didn't come back around the block in a half-hour, he could drive off."

"Good plan, I'd rather you be here than alone at home," Lorelai admitted, thankful that although Paris's mom wasn't the best, the people around her were supportive. "See you in a couple hours then?"

"Yeah." Paris felt nervous as she began the climb up the stairs as Lorelai ran into Rory's room to borrow a pair of jeans. She felt thankful that her insides were no longer twisting as hard as they were about Jamie, and did feel more relieved after sharing her doubts with the mother of her best friend.

She felt mixed, bitter that the girl she thought would be by her side at Harvard was letting her wander, not even saying a word about Jamie after asking her advice throughout the week, saying she wouldn't interfere. Of course not, she thought to herself, he's just enough for me. Meanwhile you get with Reb and it's all screw me over because he has that bad boy thing going on. It hurt her that Rory hadn't been there to hear about her worries, and that she didn't care.

Thankfully, Lorelai gave her better guidance as she thought about it going up the stairs. She lived through some of the same things, something her friends had never done. Lorelai had struggled and clawed to come out the way she was, and for Paris, to hear the war stories and advice from her, it gave her comfort that Jamie wasn't the be-all end-all of everything. Paris sighed to herself, letting unease out as she reached the top landing and looked over the bed of the innkeeper. It looked comfy, lived-in, very much homey. Not at all like the bedspread on her bed, changed out weekly and as antiseptic as could be.

It even smells of her...this room. She took in the air of the room, letting it filter through her nose. She knew already that the unfamiliar space was more than offset by the woman who usually lay between those covers and the way she had comforted her so much in the worst moment of her life. Paris was settled to the fact she would have a nice, long calming nap, and as she unzipped her formal dress, hoped that no matter what sexual tension she felt with Lorelai, both of them could build something of a bond that she couldn't seem to find with Rory at all.

Lorelai double-checked the slide lock to make sure that it worked on the front door as the last minute ticked towards eleven, to make sure in three years of disuse it would still engage, and it did. So she was a little paranoid that she had a girl with a $20 million trust upstairs in her bed, but she also wanted to make sure that no one walked in without warning. Especially not her daughter. From how she felt, she didn't want anything to do with Rory after I answered the door, she remembered, and hoped that she was tired out across town. Paris deserved a bit of peace and quiet after her hectic week, and the painful end to her relationship.

Along with no flirting on her end. She kept telling herself that she would only be a friend to the girl, no matter that even a thought about her as she grabbed the wallowing supplies at the market brought very un-Puritan images through her mind of their encounter the week before. They warmed her cheeks, and in the middle of the cereal aisle she could swear she could feel Paris's slim fingertips softly rub at her lips. But she managed to survive, and grabbed everything she needed for Operation Cheer Up Paris.

Everything was all set on the coffee table; two large bowls of fudge cookie dough ice cream, a jar of Smucker's hot fudge, Utz cheese popcorn (she had a feeling that it was so artificial it had absolutely no real cheese or lactose in it), huge spoons and everything else she would need to keep Paris in a light mood. Lorelai felt sort of bad, though, since Taylor had pulled the Easy Mac because 'it makes the children of the town lazy. If they want something to eat after school, they should learn to boil pasta on the stove like the rest of us.' After all of these years, the woman still couldn't understand the strange shelving choices the seemingly permanent selectman made to stock his shelves.

Taking a look over everything, she grabbed the remote and turned on the news on channel 8, figuring that Paris probably knew what was happening anyways, but background noise would be welcomed. Looking over her spread, Lorelai smiled to herself, thinking about her ingenuity after giving herself another hour of quiet time after she returned from the market.

"If this doesn't cheer her up, I guess I'll dress up like a clown." In her mind, she didn't understand why she undertook all of these preparations for what was supposed to be simple wallowing. Was it the residual effects of last week's encounter, or was she just feeling extreme empathy for a fellow rich girl stuck with a life she didn't want? Whatever it was, Lorelai knew one thing.

"She needs all the support she can get. I'm surprised she hasn't made up her mind on a college yet." Trying not to think so seriously, she tried to distract herself towards other non-Paris thoughts.

Her aversion failed though when she went back to Rory and how she felt about her being alone. The 'I'm 18' excuse had been used, and eventually the younger Gilmore had worn her mother out and convinced her to have a night of fun. She remembered how unkind she felt she was becoming, unappreciative for the advice, maybe even getting a little cocky after the mid-May progress report came in, showing her topping Paris by about 20 hundredths of a grade point on the chart. She thought Jess was beginning to rub off on her in more than one way, but she wanted Rory to taste her own medicine if things went wrong.

She was in no mind to think about her daughter right now. The emotional state of Rory's friend was much more important to her. Walking up the stairs towards her bedroom, she had her fingers crossed that the blonde had managed to find enough peace to snooze.  She tiptoed up the steps slowly, not wanting to startle her, and ended up on the landing without a problem.

Walking into her room, she was glad that Paris indeed was calm and napping soundly, all of her blankets still straight, nothing thrown around the room at all in a nightmare of any kind.

As she approached the bed though, Lorelai noticed next to the girl's shoes a lump of fabric on one side. The wine red garment was familiar to Lorelai immediately. She clenched up, sort of nervous.

She wouldn't be. Right? I don't know how she sleeps, but she didn't have anything to wear under. Lifting Paris's formal dress up on bended knee to hang it up on a closet door hook, the older brunette also ended up with her bra too, the light blue strapless lace odd in her hands. She tiptoed to the hook, hung the items up, and turned her attention back to the girl in her bed.

Lorelai watched, quiet as she tried to sense what was happening. She heard some mumbling, barely discernable with other activity going on, but quiet and still, she tried to make it out. Paris had the blankets curled up around her, probably feeling a chill due to the window air conditioner against her back in the far side window of the dim bedroom. Lorelai barely breathed, trying to find out if Paris was dreaming about something horrible.

"No, no, not right there." She coughed, pushing herself a bit more against the comforter. "Idoeneedeh thatide." The words were muffled against the pillow, until she turned to the cooler side of the pillow. "I wanna breathe in it."

Dreaming about graduation, probably. Lorelai felt confident she was dreaming about something innocent, probably her cap and gown fitting. Relaxing a little, she backed a bit more towards the closet, preparing to wake Paris up.

"Lorelai!!" Paris screamed out her name tiredly. "Oh, my God. No, I don't care how much you pay me, I'm not going in there naked underneath!"

The woman's mouth formed into a round 'O' shape, and she held back a gasp. She closed her eyes, and suddenly felt as if she was violating a private sanctum. She shook her head, owing it more to frazzled nerves than anything sexual between them. It's nothing, really.

"Ms. Gilmore, what are you doing?" Paris turned back to the other side. "We only have twenty minutes...what do you mean you don't give a damn? Your daughter will kill me."

It was at that moment that Lorelai noticed that within the lump of blankets, one part was sticking out the most against Paris. Also, that it seemed to poke out as if attached to the end of an arm.

"Lor...don't pout, I'm sorry I called you Ms. How can I make it up to you?" She was hyperventilating, and the older woman watching her in the shadows of the moonlight was on the other side of the room, her legs still, no matter how much she wanted to move.

"I do want to, really, but there's no time...someone could walk in!"

The tall woman felt her heart hammer against her chest, hard. This was so very wrong for her, to be the fuel to this girl's fantasies. She should be concerned about the end of her relationship, and her future.

Instead, on her own bed, the girl who was running through Lorelai's mind since their fun of last week, was having a sexual sleep-talking dream about her.

It was killing Lorelai inside, as she watched the light on Paris's face go from a happy kind of calm, to sexually enflamed. Her nose wrinkled up, her body straightened, and next...

"Oh, fuck!" She said the profanity with full force. "Lor..."

The dream's subject let her eyes pop open wide, and she tried to breathe again, mumbling to herself that she was breaking open that one thread of sanctuary Paris had left in the world.

"I...I better just get outta here. She's not ready to get up." Lorelai blushed deeply, trying to direct her thoughts towards something boring as she tried to make her way back towards the door from between her closet and the foot of the bed. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have, I need to--"

As she retreated, Lorelai forgot for a moment that a housekeeper she was not for twelve years, especially in her own bedroom. She had to step over a pile of clothes to get to the closet door, along with a leg for her vanity's seat. But with her focus on Paris's dreams, she forgot where to tread, and before she knew it, she was tripping over the heap. She tried to grasp for the end of the bed without success, and with momentum carrying her on, she fell to a hard and inglorious heap to the deep carpeting below after a twist or two, back first, her ankle trapped against the straps of a vintage black slip at the bottom of the heap.  Her ass hit the ground first, and because of the old construction of the floor below her, it shook everything within a seven-foot vicinity of the impact.

It also woke Paris up. In her dream haze, she was startled by the shake as she regained her bearings in real life. She was pulled away from her dream, and her first reaction was that the peace of the small town was broken by some nut with an elephant gun. Don't tell me Kirk provides midnight roofing services! She screamed internally within, not putting it past him to do so. She rubbed the sleep out from her eyes and tried to bring back her focus to see what the matter was.

The first thing seen when she turned on the bedside light was the lady of the house on her back. Not surprisingly, Paris was much concerned about why she was. The comforter around her thankfully-to-Lorelai-clothed body, she immediately got up from the bed to offer Lorelai a hand up.

"Uh, hey," she said nervously.


"Can I ask why you're on a heap next to the bed?" Paris smiled at her, with sleepy eyes.

"I'm OK, really," Lorelai responded lamely. "I...I was trying to hang up your dress. It's satin. You don't want it to wrinkle."

"And?" Paris brought down her hand.

"I tripped on a pile of clothes going the other way."

"You wouldn't have that happen if you could keep your room clean," Paris reminded.

"I do...I can maneuver around." Lorelai tried to defend herself, while the blonde shook her head. She grasped Paris's hand and began to get up. "It's a little cramped, but it's homey."

"I'm not complaining about the space in the room, just how you use it." Taking her by the other hand, Paris kept her gaze northward, away from the flannel shirt riding up her legs. "Up, Ms. Gi--er, Lorelai." She helped Lorelai up the rest of the way, figuring that she would be out of danger after that.

At least, until Lorelai hissed out, some signals being sent up her neurons from her left ankle.

"Yooowwww...stupid ankle!" Lorelai cursed at herself. "Damn it, I've meant to get a hamper. I also have that elevator shaft like thingie in the hall to the laundry room, I should use it more."

Paris filled in the vague term to take the focus from the woman's pain. "A dumbwaiter?"

"You mean me at 19 in the Inn's dining room, right?" Lorelai shook her head. "I really haven't gotten injured in my room before. Strangled by a zipper, uh-huh. Attacked by my own laundry, that's a new one!" She tried to distract herself, while Paris bent down to detangle the slip from her leg.

"I would suggest from now on your lingerie goes in a corner pile, not in the middle. Strappy items and shoes should be out of your way." Paris felt around the ankle with her hands, trying to determine if there was a sprain. "Just let me know where it hurts, I can judge whether I'll have to immobilize you."

"What?" Lorelai paled hearing the complicated medical word. "I...you don't think I did that much damage."

Paris looked up at her. "My Nanna tripped on a small marble and shattered her hip; it can happen with that, or a bowling ball. Now stay still, it won't take long." She circled her thumb and index fingers around the thin area of Lorelai's ankle, letting her fingers guide her. "You're standing and not hopping, so that's a good first sign. Just let me test...here." Lorelai felt nothing. "And...here." Moving her fingers down, she probed again. Again, no pain. "How about here, do you feel anything?" She touched her fingers to a small spot at the top of her ankle.

"Owwww..." Lorelai didn't scream, but it wasn't a good sensation for her in any way. Paris sighed in relief, the panic she had washing away.

"It's not too bad, thank goodness."

"But I sprained my ankle," Lorelai cried. "It hurts." Paris shook her head.

"Trust me, I'm studying this stuff, and I'm in a family of doctors. If it was bad you would've raced for the bed to take pressure off and been anguished with each step. Things would have been worse with a heavier piece of clothing against the ankle, but since it's just a spaghetti strap, just a minor hyperextension, and no sprain." She helped Lorelai to the bed, where she sat down on. "You're going to be fine."

"Do I need ice?" Lorelai asked, worried. "Or Icy Hot?"

Paris shook her head. "No, but you're going to need to lie down on the bed against your pillow. If you stay on the leg you may aggravate something, but I know a little something that might help."

"So you'll borrow me a Vicodin from your purse?"

Paris rolled her eyes up. "Actually, something with a personal touch to it."

"What do you mean?"

"Lie down, Lorelai," Paris ordered.

"Alright." Lorelai pushed the blankets over, and pouted. "I don't know what bedrest is going to do for it though, it hurts a little. I could use a Tylenol PM."

"Not bedrest." She had Lorelai move towards the right side of the mattress to get just enough maneuvering space, and then pushed the blankets out of the way. "There's no need for pills either. It's an involuntary reaction to go after them right away, but if you treat it immediately, you'll be able to sleep well."

"What are you doing?" Lorelai felt babied, a bit less independent. "Really, whatever it is, you don't need to do anything for me."

"God, you're so stubborn." Paris smiled at her as she sat down on the mattress, trying not to let Lorelai's childishness get to her. "Relax, close off your mind."

"Says the girl who had a coronary over Harvard," Lorelai teased, which sent a dirty look her way. "What?"

"Hey, they can't handle me, fine. But they're going to miss me using my medical skills in a speedy and expedient manner meant to calm the patient."

"Like--" Lorelai was about to ask what Paris was going to do, but was interrupted, as she found herself with the young woman's thin hands wrapping around her left foot, around her leg.

"As I said, keep calm." Paris smiled as she began to knead her fingers across the thin skin at the top of Lorelai's foot. "This is what's going to unkink the bloodflow and let things get back to normal." Closing her palm across the side of the foot, Paris rubbed Lorelai slowly, letting herself guide where she needed to go.

"Oh, wow." The other woman was surprised a bit, feeling so strange. "What is this? How...how do you know to do it? I don't see you being a major in the art of massage."

She smiled slightly, letting her fingers drift up and down up the lower portion of the leg. "Does that feel nice?" Lorelai nodded. "I got it from my nanny; one of the things she used to do for me when I was younger would be to massage stress away from me after I came home from school. I learned it from her, and then I'd practice on her in turn after long days at the Manor. I just find it very therapeutic: that's why if I'm stressing I clench my fists. I let my thumb rub over the inside of my palm, circling it slowly, like this..." She slid her hand further up the woman's ankle. "I deal with problems internally, and most of the time, it helps."

"Mmmm, yeah." Lorelai could already feel the numbing pain melting away from her, smiling and closing her eyes. "Oh, you don't know how good this feels. I don't usually ask anyone to do this at all."

"Why not?" Paris asked, curious.

"Too intimate," Lorelai responded, sighing. "Besides, that's what a foot bath is for."

"So when you were with Max...never?" She saw the woman shake her head. "I'm surprised, you seem like you enjoy to be touched."

"He didn't offer."

"He should have." Paris huffed, annoyed at what they were talking about. "What is it about guys and always going for the obvious parts?"

Lorelai, seeing an opening in the conversation, bit. "Are you thinking about Jamie again?"

"Maybe, a little bit." Paris was nervous about bringing him up, feeling calm before then as her hands rubbed just below the sore spot. "I just keep thinking, should I have pushed him more? Was there something wrong with me that necking and slow making out was something that he didn't enjoy?"

"He didn't enjoy foreplay, I take it."

Paris felt a bit raw revealing her inner stress, but wanted to get it out in the open with someone. Looking at the woman, she felt she could trust Lorelai enough with the conversation. "I'm surprised he'd let me build him up for ten minutes at times. And on my end, I wouldn't be in the mood, but I'd do it, even if I felt so wrong and had to fake through things. I'd try to tease, be slow, but he'd be all 'Jake is getting back soon, suck me off!' I mean in that dorm, not the most romantic place in the world."

"So he rushed things."

She hated to bring up last week again, but felt an example was needed. "I didn't even know I could orgasm like I did. Thinking about him, trying to get off in bed, it never worked. I'd think about someone else, it was painful." Paris rubbed harder on Lorelai's ankle, on the sore spot. "I hate to be mean to him, but he was just so fucking vanilla, the guy had no imagination to speak of when it came to me." She clenched her teeth as she pushed another example. "Hell, I tried the old teacher/student chestnut, and he told me he wasn't into it because, get this, 'I can't imagine you getting into trouble or being disrespectful of authority!'"

Lorelai felt herself tensing up even more. "You wore the uniform, right?"

"I even flirted, it didn't work!"

"Does he understand the meaning of fantasy?"

"Who knows? All I know is, you were right. Thinking about him all week, into tonight, I was regretting that I gave him another chance. I expected him to change, but he didn't, and after baiting me in the car, I'm just so pissed at him. I put all of this effort into loving him, and he makes me seem dirty for being a woman with needs." Paris felt herself tightening up, wanting to close up, but kept herself open for Lorelai's sake. "I wasn't so much with the 'come and get it' like Louise does, but I thought I had a more understated kind of sexuality, that I built away from my mother and the influence of the other girls. I mean, I want to be surprising and open to things, but at the same time, I want to have a good head on my shoulders."

"I think you do," Lorelai demurred. "Was it wrong that my first thought of you having a relationship when Rory told me about Jamie was of you into S&M?"

Paris shook her head and gave Lorelai a dirty look. "Careful there, Lorelai. I can easily break your leg right now." There was a teasing smile on her face.

"I don't think I'd feel it...mmmm." The hotelier shut her eyes, as Paris's working of her ankles began to turn more towards the massage direction. "And I know you wouldn't do it, you're more of a mental injurer than a physical one."

"But I know three forms of martial arts, so you can't count me out." The girl slid her fingers up to just below the injury spot. "How is it doing? It looks like it's cooling down."

"Like I never even tripped over anything, you were right." Lorelai began to settle more into the bed, previously feeling nervous and pained from the trip. "It's settled then, the next time I get injured, you're on call for me."

"Glad to see my fingers are of some use." Laughing, Paris began to move her massaging strokes down towards Lorelai's feet. "I'm afraid I'm not grasping a whip with them anytime soon though. I actually..." She lowered her voice a bit. "...I don't mind being the one under control. It's sort of rooted in me."

"So you don't mind being on the bottom?" Lorelai asked the question without thinking. She had been holding back from broaching anything about the classroom meeting, afraid that Paris would say that she regretted it all.

But in Paris's mind, she was totally playing along, the residual effects of the dream still going through her. She felt tight and wound up from her nap, sexual tension running through her. Her eyes stayed on Lorelai's lower portion, ogling her legs and her hands enjoying the soft feel of her skin. She's so much unlike Jamie, she thought to herself, thinking in broader terms besides her skin. She let me go on without a dull interruption about a fraternity activity or the goings on of King of Prussia society. What kind of city name is that anyways, did they secede from the Union for awhile at the behest of that guy? What a presumptuous town name...wait, I never have to worry about that stupid town again! But I do need to take my mind off her, we can't work. But I have to continue the flirt, to bait her.

Paris smiled at her after a pregnant pause, just as Lorelai was ready to apologize, while circling her fingers around the arch of her foot, near the heel. "It doesn't matter to me where I am." She then slid her tongue across her top lip. "I quite enjoyed being against the blackboard, for instance."

Lorelai closed her eyes, trying to draw out the reminder from her head, and just enjoy the bare touch of the massage. She remembered back, trying to shake it out of her head. She's just playing with you, don't bait her on.

But her heartbeat and breath picked up, as Paris's circling drove closer within the deeper parts of her sole. She was blushing, so embarrassed she was getting this way over Paris. I need to forget this, I can't continue to think this way. What if this is just a thrill detour, something out of "American Pie"? What do I look like, Stifler's mom?

She tried to distract, bringing her thoughts towards something neutral, at least to her. Opening her eyes, she scanned Paris's body, trying to get an idea of what she was wearing, losing her distraction from the trip.

"Umm, I'm sorry I didn't find anything for you," she said, honest and annoyed with herself. "I know normally, that would be your last choice to wear." She looked at the large t-shirt Paris had found in her top dresser drawer.

"It's just a shirt, it's nothing." Paris hadn't looked at what she was wearing before she put it on, and as she followed Lorelai's eyes, finally realized that maybe she should have looked at what the green shirt's message was. Her eyes widened as she read the words out loud.

"Aye am shampeon uf thee Tori Spell Lang Bea." Surrounded by a pattern consisting of bees and a cheesy trophy reading "#Won", the words stuck out like a sore thumb to her, and she immediately felt embarrassed to have chose it in her frazzled state. "Someone sold this shirt?" She was shocked. "I don't get it."

"Uh, Tori Spelling is stupid?" Lorelai summed up the joke.

"Well I knew that, but...oh, never mind." Paris shook her head, the point of the words getting through to her. "It's a good joke, just a bit 'hammer to the head' getting it across, though."

"But it's a conversation starter, you have to admit that." The two women began to relax, letting any tension fall away slowly. "I would have never expected you to choose that one. When I wore that into Luke's, Taylor said I needed to take it off immediately." She lowered her voice to imitate him badly. "He said 'Lorelai, our school district is among the best for towns with populations below 7,500, you're going to confuse the young people of this town by wearing it.'"

"Take it off?" Paris felt herself warming. "But then you'd be in violation of the decency laws."

Upon hearing Paris's words, Lorelai's mouth opened, and she gasped out. "Oh, that pervert! I knew there was a haughty tone hiding his real purposes in there! Hmmph, I should bring that up at the next town meeting!"

"Somehow I don't think we need to publicize the deviant fantasies of that guy." Paris laughed nervously. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not think about him anymore."

"Sorry. Actually, I wasn't even thinking of the message of the shirt," Lorelai confessed. "I think you look kind of cute in it, actually." She was heartened to watch Paris blush a bit.

"Green really isn't my color though."

"I know, but um...you look nice just wearing that." Lorelai turned her head to look towards the window, trying to keep her eyes from Paris's small form. She slid her hand from Lorelai's foot, releasing it upon seeing her fully calmed and relaxed, not even remembering the injury. She got out of her sitting position on her legs, stretching out across the bed. The two women felt heated up, trying to avert from the flirting, but failing to do so.

"What do you mean, nice?" Paris questioned. "As in, it fits well despite being an extra large shirt on a petite body, or in the other sense of a 'my shirt' kind of compliment?" She was startled to see Lorelai, usually so bold about her sexuality, become so shy about it. Lorelai was questioning herself internally, trying to bring things back to normal, not intending to flirt with Paris.

"As in...as in you just broke up with your boyfriend, and I shouldn't be saying these kinds of things." She averted her gaze as Paris relaxed on the bed, laying lengthwise to her. "I shouldn't be saying you're cute, even though it's my opinion that you are."

"I'm sorry." Paris didn't know what else to say, trying to formulate some excuse to take her mind off the track of wanting Lorelai again.

"You shouldn't be though. Just think of me as the wacky old lady who can't control her libido." Lorelai laughed at herself without mirth. "I can't be doing this."

"What is that?"

"Taking joy in...in Jamie blowing his chance with you," Lorelai admitted. "Thinking about you all week, wondering if our meeting was still on your mind, but I kept thinking that you got your rocks off and it was over, I could go back to thinking normally about you."

"Ms. Gilm--er, dammit! Lorelai, it's OK." She brought her eye contact straight with her. "I know what we did was so unexpected, but it was nice, enjoyable. I couldn't get my mind off it either at all."

"But what about Jamie?"

Paris sighed. "I gave it a shot, it didn't work, and you're right, I have to move on. But that doesn't in any way reduce what we did in that classroom. I know I cheated on him, and that maybe if we had some more control or a working air conditioner, we may not have. But then again, it may have been inevitable."

Lorelai bit her lip, feeling suddenly nervous, as Paris moved closer against her. "What do you mean by that?"

"First of all, who do we usually talk to about our problems in life, about your doubts over buying the Inn, or where I'd be in the fall?" Her voice tightened. "Rory is distracted by Jess, and she tunes us both out lately. I was talking to her about Jamie during pagesetting at the paper, and she hijacked the conversation towards how much she feels for Jess. Meanwhile, you're feeling all stressed out, and she's gone, while your red-haired chef friend is all about starting her family, which I understand. Max is gone, Louise is daydreaming about New Orleans, and who knows where Madeline is? We both doubt ourselves, and somehow, we tethered to each other in that classroom. You helped me out, and somehow, I felt closer to you."

"But that doesn't explain, why me? You have other adults in your life; you have a therapist you can confide in."

"Because, Lorelai, you're there. You understand things. With my therapist, my situation was brought up in a case study example in her second year in college, but you've actually experienced some of my crises. You've freaked out about bad grades and dating doubts." Paris lowered her voice, moving her other hand towards Lorelai's cheek. "Somehow, I know there's a trust with you too. Sure, we got off to a bad start with the whole 'tell the entire dining hall about you and Max hooking up' problem, but that was insanity brought about by the parent's divorce. Since then I've been pretty complimentary of you, haven't I?"

"Th--that's true." Lorelai looked down. "You did compliment the Bracebridge Dinner, except for the shirt thing."

"Then I want you to be truthful with me." Paris let herself take in a breath, hoping her next move didn't backfire. "Tell me that last week didn't mean anything to you, or not much. I won't get mad, or hurt because you said so."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's see here. If I would've tried to massage you, say about four months before, you would've been freaked out." She pushed closer, sliding her hand up Lorelai's smooth left arm. "I wouldn't be able to do this at all, until we spent a day forced together." She let her voice take a softer tone. "Certainly, your reaction to Jamie dumping me would have been more disconnected, as if you didn't care about me beyond your daughter's friend."

Watching the stunned woman, Paris felt she was cornering her, making it clear that her want for the woman wasn't influenced by either loneliness or just a need to confide in someone. "The sad thing is, I felt closer to you for nine hours than I had with Jamie over the last seven months, and you make me want to confront things, which I did. I lost my drive before we ended up talking, and you brought it back."

Lorelai thought carefully about what Paris was saying, and tried to deliberate that she shouldn't be closer to her. That in her mind, this should not be happening at all.

Or in the deepest part of her mind, that she should be telling Paris to leave. But that was an extreme opinion, hurtful, and she wouldn't dare even consider it in any way.

Staring at the girl, thinking about what she may have done on the sofa, Lorelai knew the blonde was stuck in her mind, no matter what.

After a long pause, Lorelai finally spoke. "I'm flattered, really. And I definitely care about how you're feeling, especially about Jamie. I'm just, frankly, uh, concerned about whether you're, well--you know..." She tightened her voice, trying to neutralize the bite the words might have. "I'm afraid that with me, you're thinking like a teenager."

The word echoed through Paris's mind, sounding almost like an insult. Yet, she filtered it, knowing that Lorelai was offering a perfect out to the situation. That she didn't need to say it as if she was a baby, Paris was heartened by Lorelai laying it out raw. Thinking it through internally for a moment, Paris looked to turn the tables.

Smiling slightly, she bit on the woman's phrasing.

"Are you then, Lorelai?" The words were said softly, without a hint of malice, in the form of a come-on. "With your mindset, I need to know if you think this is right."

The woman next to her blushed, suddenly tightening up at the very insinuation. "I don't know if I can really say I am. It's complicated, the situation. You're hurt so this may not be the right time to act."

"The only thing that's been hurt lately is my pride, and it's being remodeled," she responded confidently. "To tell you the truth..." she began to shift, moving her small body closer to the flannel-clad woman, their legs brushing together. "I was hurt by Jamie's words and his actions, but all week, remembering us making love on that desk, it balmed the pain. It disappeared." Her tone turned serious as she went further. "Remembering your wisdom and comfort, how even though it could have been just sex, but I know both of us took something from that. I felt confident and desirable than I ever have."

"Paris..."Lorelai closed her eyes. "Oh God."

"What did you feel?" She asked.

"Funny," she said simply.

"Can we go beyond that?" She stroked the woman's slender fingers, and her toes, with her body fully stretched out, rubbed against her left ankle.

"I...I'm still shuddering from the feel of your leg against mine," she confessed. "Just thinking about it right now, I'm all wound up. But everything also helped. That was pretty much a day off, and I was on my last nerve with Fran's estate because they won't sell me the Dragonfly outside of auction, Rory, my mother...it was a relaxant to me, even though most of the conversation was one-sided towards you. I needed to hear that I wasn't alone in being pissed off at the world."

"So, you enjoyed it." Paris smiled, as Lorelai nodded.

"It made me forget, to have that time with you. To only fret about a cashbox, not my daughter's future."

"Me too." They stood stuck, staring at each other. "How many times have you relived it so far?"

The brunette blushed deeply, feeling mortified to admit her fingers had done the walking to Paris's moans and thrusts several times since then, either in the bed or within a shower. "I cannot reveal that under my Fifth Amendment right?"

Paris shook her head, revealing a tell she held back since she got to the door. "I know of at least one time."

Lorelai froze up almost immediately. "What do you mean? I haven't been near you since last Wednesday, I--"

"You wanted me when I got to the door, right?" Before Lorelai could do any kind of aversion tactic, she found Paris's left hand drifting up her thigh. "I...I was ready to leave when you said Rory wasn't home, because I heard you otherwise occupied. That's why I almost diverted."

To put it lightly, Lorelai was mortified by the revelation. "Was I really that loud?"

"No, the front window blind towards the other side of the porch away from the neighbors was really that opened, actually." Lorelai's heartbeat picked up even more. "I made out my name through the shielded noise, and I felt myself flare up. But since you were just warming up, I thought it would be fine to interrupt, of little consequence to you, unlike if I caught you in a full stroke."

"So...so you watched me...for a bit?" Lorelai cursed herself out. "I will make sure to have that shade fixed next time!"

Paris pushed her hand up until she met the hem of the flannel shirt. "I apologize for stopping you, because in the darkest part of my mind, I wanted to watch, be a voyeur. But my rule is, I don't violate privacy, so I stopped you."

"What did it do to you?" Lorelai asked, her voice becoming a whisper.

"I was still crying and depressed, but I bit down on my lip, and my legs just gave out. I mean, God..." The girl's nails raked within the inner thigh. "Playing with yourself over the shirt, stroking, moaning my name. Talk about giving me a confidence boost."

"And a pair of wet panties?" Lorelai suggested, laughing.

"Something I know we're sharing." Paris blushed. "Trust me, if I wouldn't have seen that, I would have felt very uncomfortable coming in tonight."

"Why's that?"

Paris brought her mouth close to Lorelai. "Because I thought you were regretting me."

"I wasn't."

"I know. But I manifest regret internally." The fingers moved ever so close to Lorelai's core. She seized up, thinking of any way to turn off the warming want building within her. "I don't know what to think about the situation. One moment I'm enjoying that we were together, but the next I go back to it and think about what may have happened if it backfired. If I would have taken that backing up against the blackboard as something aggressive, or something I did would be taken as something you didn't enjoy."

"Then don't think about it," Lorelai said, softly. "I had them too, but we can't change the past. I enjoyed it, and I know you did." Paris nodded. "I don't regret things; I learn from them."

The courage was building up within Paris. Looking at the woman next to her, the dim light of the lamp highlighting the sheen of her cheeks, along with the glow within her eyes. She felt so wanted, but tried to hold it back. This isn't the time, really it isn't. She tried to rationalize to herself that looking for comfort in the small town mother was the last thing she should do, and had to shield herself from the burgeoning emotions she was feeling.

She began to avert a bit. "But you were just feeling under stress from everything, that's why we did what we did, right? The tension was getting to you, and also to me, so we just..."

As she attempted to voice her theory, Paris was startled to find the other woman brushing her leg against hers, not lifting it up to keep the ankle from flaring up, but still pushing against her. Distracted, she then had another delayed reaction to another sudden touch, as the woman's now purple-polished nails scraped above her shirt, above the side of her waist. Paris softly gasped from the contact, her thoughts interrupted from the woman. Lorelai brought her hands up, turning herself to face the girl, and her left hand trailed up along her side until she reached Paris's delicate neck, her fingers grazing the mole on her left side that always drew the eye naturally. The erogenous spot brought out an unexpected moan from Paris, especially from seeing Lorelai be this way with her. She then caressed along Paris's jaw line, her eyes fully focused on her.

Lorelai made Paris see how hollow her statement was. "What tension? If I remember, the entire day ended up how it did because we found each other so alluring, not just from tension." She licked her lips inside, finding herself resisting not asking to resist the advances. "What are you thinking right now?"

Paris lowered her gaze. "Trust me, you really don't want to know."

Smiling, Lorelai lowered her tone, pushing the flirting within it even further. She knew this was no time to be joking at all, about either her love life or the exes they shared. This was about them. "And why not?" she teased.

"Because," Paris said wearily, "I'm...nervous about saying it."

"So I make you nervous?" Lorelai's other hand shifted across the girl's clothed belly.

"Oh, of course," Paris responded, distracted. "But do you really want to know?"

Lorelai, feeling confronted, wanted to be truthful as to why she ended up tripping over her ankle. She took in a deep breath, hoping she wasn't playing her hand too early.

"What if I already do?" Lorelai asked confidently, her voice firm.

"You don't." Paris was confident of it.

Another move to Lorelai, and this time, she said it with her actions along with her words, dipping a couple of fingers near Paris's navel. "What if I did?"

Paris seized up at the close intimate touch. "You...don't!"

She found the hand wandering from along the trail to her intimacy, and then up towards her breasts, which were doing the thing Lorelai hated the most about borrowing shirts, as they'd be stretched out by the wearer.

Except in this case. Without a bra on, Paris was showing off, and the heat the women were sharing, along with the dissipating effects of her nap, were getting Paris hot and hard. The outline of each nipple was obvious, and as Lorelai's hand pushed closer towards her breasts, they both felt themselves opening up.

"I do. And I'm very open to whatever you might want," Lorelai suggested, her voice filled with lust. "You can't hide from me; you're an open book, Paris."

The girl stared at Lorelai, trying to see if she was truthful. She was concerned now about what Lorelai held close. What is she going on about? She thought to herself, hoping it wasn't one of her psychoses coming into the limelight at the wrong time.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this," Paris communicated, her voice wavering. "I should not feel this way for you."

Lorelai felt the same way. "You and me both. I don't know what I'm really doing."

"You're sure?" Paris felt as if she was the most inexperienced girl ever. "What you're doing..." Her heart beat faster as those fingers trailed up. "Oh God, your nails."

"Ticklish?" Paris nodded furiously, taking in a deep breath. Her face was flushed, eyes slitted as she took in what Lorelai was doing to her. "So you do have nerve endings. From how Rory describes you, it's almost like you're cold and inhuman."

Paris took Lorelai's other hand into hers at that comment, not letting it get to her. Rory's not here, she thought internally, blocking her classmate out of everything going on. She shouldn't be judging us, or you. Wrapping her fingers around her counterpart's hand, Lorelai felt herself still in a cool shock as Paris guided it towards her left breast. To anyone else, it might be immediately construed as sexual, but there was a connection between the women that was building even deeper within the moment. Paris placed her hand atop Lorelai's as she set it where she intended to.

She spoke softly, the usual bitterness completely gone from her now warm and seductive voice. "What is this then?"

"That...that's your heart," Lorelai stated numbly, the constant rhythm of Paris's beat thumping against her palm. She attempted to brush off the effect of the intimate touch with sarcasm, but she came off much softer than expected. "I do know my basic human anatomy."

Letting the feel of Lorelai's fingertips surround her, Paris found her own voice disappearing. "I guess I am human then, contrary to popular belief." The two of them moved ever closer, inches separating their lips. Smirking, Paris rubbed her thumb against the pulse point in Lorelai's wrist. "Your pulse is steadier than expected."

"And here you go, teasing me about my coffee addiction." The other woman shook her head, feeling so warmed by the slow teasing. "So I have six cups a day, that's pretty normal, right?" A pause of silence. "Right?"

"Hey, far be it for me to judge your caffeine intake, I can't even drink it the way you do." Paris then explained she had to have it buffeted by soy milk and sweeteners because straight black didn't agree with her stomach.

"I'm sorry. Darn your genes." Lorelai stared her down, scanning her eyes down towards Paris's crossed and bare legs, a definite rarity for a girl she assumed stayed clothed as much as possible. She tried not to show Paris was throwing her off the caring yet detached track she usually had with her daughter's other friends and classmates. Paris brought her hand down to her lap, circling her palm with her index finger.

Paris stared Lorelai over, trying to keep herself from being distracted with a bit of exposed skin through the shirt between the 35 year old woman's breasts, something about as asexual a stare as possible in that erogenous zone. Still, it was killing her to think of Lorelai nude. Especially since I know she probably has no bra on, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes again, trying to distract herself from the building thoughts and tension.

At that point, Lorelai's rational side reminded her exactly what she was doing in definitive terms. What the hell are you thinking here? Sex got you into trouble many times, and here it is, doing the same thing. Don't let her attach to you! She's not exactly the kind of woman you'd take home to Mother...you wouldn't want to take anyone to her in the first place! She's latching on to you as a voice of reason, and what happens when she comes to her senses? Have you even considered that? You can't give her this new stress on top of Jamie and school, she needs time to herself, to cope, to heal.

Paling from that very thought, Lorelai realized she was getting close...too close, to be a calming influence in Paris's life. The way she looked, wearing her shirt, the green contrasting perfectly with the young woman's olive skin, and the stare of those warm brown eyes upon her. Going back to last week, at the moment they crossed that line in the classroom, Lorelai knew she went too far.

But she thought about her past relationships, how she got off on the illicit. I'm a thrillseeker, she hypothesized, thinking about how much the parents tried to dissuade her from Christopher, and that with Max, being with someone who taught her daughter gave her such a naughty buzz.

I can't do that with her though. What am I thinking, taking advantage of her at a time where she's so uncertain. I'm not for her, I shouldn't be encouraging this.

Lorelai tried to drown out all the opposing voices in her mind, to try to cool down the situation. It was to no avail though, as watching the girl kept her hot, and wanting of her further touch. She still felt the girl's heartbeat within her hand, a minute after breaking contact with her chest.

Suddenly, she felt a need to do something, anything to take her mind off what she wanted from Paris. She thought she had a perfect opportunity to slip away with Par's eyes shut. I can do this, she thought, as she began to slide the held hand out from Paris's loose grip on her wrist. She slid over towards the end of the bed to get out of it and head downstairs.

"So..." Paris opened her eyes again, smiling. "What exactly do you know?"

Lorelai paused, confused. "Know?"

"Yes, know." Lorelai felt Paris overpowering her again. "You were saying I was an open book." Paris shifted her hands from Lorelai's wrist and the bed, to begin to envelope her. "So, what kind of book?"

"I can't say," Lorelai admitted shyly. "You'll hate me."

"No I won't."

Lorelai sighed heavily. "It's really nothing; I promise you."

"Which means it is." Paris was matter-of-fact. Laying down lengthwise to Lorelai, she pushed the woman back down onto the mattress. "I know you don't usually hold back what you have to say."

No matter what, Lorelai couldn't find a hole to dive through, to avoid the line of questioning she was being barraged with. Trying to figure out a way out if it, she tried an aversion technique.

"How about...if we talk about it downstairs?" Her tone was final, firm, and she thought Paris would get the hint. Beginning to calm, she thought she was off the hook.

She wasn't counting on Paris to get on her game. The silence during that time built up her reserve and want to go further, and as she sensed Lorelai's unease about the situation, she adjusted and adapted to what she felt was Lorelai fleeing from the entire idea that they were together, and there was chemistry between them. Planning perfectly, Paris sensed what she was probably going to do, and adjusted.

Moving to straddle Lorelai suddenly, Paris laid the foundation.

"About what, exactly?" Smiling, she pushed her hand up towards Lorelai's right side. "We're perfectly relaxed right here." Scanning the woman with purpose, her mouth watered at putting the middle Lorelai in her place.

"Things, of course." Lorelai began to lose her thoughts, watching Paris span across her, setting a trap. Nervously, she tittered. "Non-Jamie things."

The blonde nodded. "Good, I'm glad you don't want to talk about him either." Her other hand moved up the outside of Lorelai's thigh. "Frankly, I'll be glad to finally let thoughts of Chilton go after next week." Inching up slowly, she dragged her thin nails along the brunette's thick, smooth skin. "It's been a nice school, but I'm ready to move on, wherever that might be." She watched the woman shallow her breathing, becoming overwhelmed by her desire. She brought her eyes down, just in time for each hand to reach the hem of the flannel shirt.

Still, Lorelai lamely tried to distract. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable on the couch? I mean, this can't be."

"Oh, I'm fine, but you still seem tense." Breaking her hands away for a moment, Paris brought them to Lorelai's side. "Why would that be? We cleared the air on everything, I thought."

"We did..." Lorelai continued to fight the words from coming out. "It's clear as can be, like Crystal Pepsi."

Letting herself smirk, Paris found the woman right where she wanted her. "So why, when I look into your eyes, I feel like there's something there? Something you're hiding, because you're mortified about? It's nothing big, but yet..." Paris let her left hand run through Lorelai's smoothed out hair, sinking the fingertips scalp-deep. "That you're trying to protect me, as if I'm Rory and shouldn't know about it."

A sensory overload beginning, Lorelai again tried to misdirect. "How do you know if I'm hiding something?"

"Give it up and fold, Ms. Gilmore." She brought her mouth closer to the hotelier's. "Your hand is showing, and you have a bad deal."

"Par--" All the denial Lorelai buried herself in, it suddenly came crashing down, as after that moment, Paris touched her lips to Lorelai's, and left a simple, soft and quick kiss upon them, letting her tongue flitter softly upon the lips as she pulled away.

Looking at the woman below her warmly, Paris pulled back her hair, which was falling onto her face. Lorelai's stomach spun, and tingles shot through her spine, and all over. She didn't want to reveal, afraid. Never had such a simple kiss stunned her so quickly.

She heaved out a deep breath, trying to gather herself together. "Honest, I didn't mean to linger, I--"

Paris saw the clouds disappear from her view, and knew immediately what had happened. Thinking about it for less than a second, she knew if it was Jamie, the next action she would take would be a blow to his genitals.

Instead, she brought her fingers across Lorelai's lips, and smiled. "I slept-talked a fantasy about you, didn't I?"

Lorelai nodded slowly, hoping not to ire her anger. "I'm sorry...I was trying to leave, and I, I tripped over my clothes."

The blonde slid her other hand down Lorelai's side, her face heated from the confession of the woman. "No need to apologize at all. It's my psyche, and obviously it's showing you what I truly want."

"You should be mad though, not happy." Lorelai felt mortified. "I watched you having a sex dream and was enjoying it!"

"So? I watched you feeling yourself up and felt the same way. We're even." She could feel Lorelai's resistance begin to melt away.

"No, I violated your privacy and you watched me behave like I was in a Cinemax film!" The words were lightly said, the woman trying to make sense of what she was about to do. "Paris, this...this..."

In her mind, she had the suffix to the sentence planned out; this should have never happened. Normally, when she got too close to someone, she'd cut it off to reduce the damage of her decision in Rory's mind view. Her doubts quashed her engagement with Max, and she didn't take the initiative with Alex to see if he was still interested in her.

But, why are you questioning this? Her conscience attempted to clear the waters. Do you have to numb your own happiness? What happened to that woman who went after what she wanted sexually? She seems to have moved on to try to get the Dragonfly, but I can tell you that every bit of you still has that classroom in your mind, every gasp, touch, groan, the feeling of that hand between your legs. So she's young, so what? Better you help her figure out what she wants in life rather than some crackpot billing $300 an hour. Or God forbid, her mother!

Oh, and you like how she makes you feel. You're still wet, right?

She closed her eyes, her body overheated, looking up towards Paris. The other woman, looking down with her, unquestionably decided on her own that she felt good with Lorelai, and most of all, appreciated for who she was. I don't have to be different with her, she thought, her mouth watering at a peek between flannel buttons. She knows me as intense, and she is to me too. Whatever the age difference might do to make us odd, everything else makes up for it.

Brown eyes meeting blue, Paris dragged her hand back up Lorelai's side, but closer towards her breasts than towards the back. An open invitation to make it known she wanted to go forward with the innkeeper.

Lorelai felt rational thought melt away with the touch, another set of words falling from her mouth to complete the hanging sentence. Her voice barely discernable, her eyes filled with desire, the caution between the two was gone.

"...This shouldn't be a one time thing."

With those words, Lorelai felt herself resigned to her burgeoning emotions for one Paris Gellar. Internally, a tight knot of unease twisting her stomach seemed to unravel as Paris looked her over, trying to judge her words as true and from the heart. She had never felt so caught between her emotions and how she was supposed to behave.

For now though, she'd put that debate aside, to focus on the only thing that mattered.

She brought up her hands to grasp at Paris's arms, and pulled her close to her. Paris reacted immediately, wanting to stretch the tension further, and stunned at her confession.

"Lorelai, if you don't want to--"

She was cut off by a hard and searing kiss as the brunette brought her flush against her body on the mattress. Not a soft exploring kiss, but one to bring the girl to her knees. Nibbling at her lips, nipping her tongue, Lorelai made work of exploring a girl she once described to Sookie in an after-work conversation at a local bar as 'that plaid-skirted pain in the ass'. The woman's hands nested within her hair as the sexual tension of eleven days apart unraveled from the woman. She felt so hot, so daring.

Definitely naughty, internalizing the thought in her now-emptying mind. The petite academic weighing her down was giving Lorelai a push she hadn't felt in years to let herself go, experiment and play. For tonight, she would let Paris do that, knowing the girl probably had so many sexually feelings pent up in her, the kinds not even breached within that half-hour in the classroom.

Lorelai's kissing quickly moved down towards her neck, Paris keeping her eyes closed, letting the emotions flood her. The dream of earlier still within her mind, of coming over to have her gown fitted further from the factory, and then finding a flirtatious Chilton mother riling her up. She had been prepared for more since the moment she woke up. The small-town woman's teeth scraped across the tender flesh of her neck as she peppered the tanned flesh with pecks.

"I want to," Lorelai responded breathlessly, her hands breaching the hem of her own shirt on Paris's body so she could have skin-to-skin contact. She went back to kissing, not concentrating as Paris began to return the kissing, forcing her way back up to Lorelai's mouth. The sleeping article began to ride up as Paris rocked back and forth, while Lorelai pushed it up purposefully along the small area of thigh it was actually covering.

They said nothing, enjoying the feel of kissing free of the stress of time and interruptions. Paris could sense the chocolate eaten by the older woman as a snack, the taste of her mouth delicious and sweet, and it gave her more of an illicit thrill since chocolate was usually denied to her on the order of her mother to keep her skin clear. Mixed with a thin film of melon lip gloss, she was falling into a chasm she didn't want to crawl out from. Lorelai welcomed the slow kissing, just enjoying being able to spend time wandering rather than having to prepare for some guy to get all grabby and demanding to let him into her. I have to butter her up, she thought, noticing how forceful Paris was above her. I want her at her best. She couldn't believe her thoughts were this far out, but she couldn't find any reason to stop them.

Keeping her hands on Paris's sides she attempted to stay neutral, but was having a hard time doing much beyond that, as she slowly released from her mouth after an agonizing two minutes, moving down towards the woman's curved chin. Paris examined Lorelai closely, the innkeeper so beautiful in the dim light. Down her chin, along the curve down towards her neck. She found no resistance from Lorelai and felt encouraged further on.

"Do you...enjoy this?" she questioned, catching her breath between kisses. She felt the woman nod her head mutely. "Tell me how you feel."

"Really good," Lorelai responded, as if a frog was in her throat. "I enjoy this."

"How much?" Paris trailed towards the hollow of Lorelai's throat.

Lorelai felt her vocal cords tighten. "You doing this, I've never dreamed." Tightly, her eyes shut as her body stilled, the blonde lining soft flecks along the hollow of her throat. "Never." She shuddered in place, the softness so alien to her after years and years of rough stubble within her sexual dealings.

"You smell nice..." Paris took in a breath as she continued. "Natural." Smiling, she let her hand slide down, towards the side of Lorelai's flannel shirt in the middle, and then hooked a finger at a button opening. "Better than my dream."

"Sounded pretty good to me," Lorelai purred, the small touch against her sternum giving her a cold chill.

"It...was...very...encompassing...of my emotions." She opened the top button of the flannel and kissed the woman along the newly-exposed skin. Smiling, she felt Lorelai shift her legs, a sure sign that she was pushing the right trigger points. Paris was methodical in undressing the woman, voicing her desire for the woman when she needed to, but otherwise concentrating on the task. The emotions in her mind, earlier clouded by doubts were concentrated on being able to be passionate, something that had been sorely lacking with Jamie.

Lorelai shifted up so her back rested against the headboard, kissing Paris's forehead with the same fervor. Undressing each other slowly, Paris let herself take in Lorelai in small bits, the soft feel of her skin contrasting with the flannel. Closing her eyes the elder Gilmore let her hands caress softly as she pushed her own shirt up slowly. The dim light of the room amplified the intimacy, the only thing shielding the women the thin sheet of the bed as the other blankets were pushed aside.

Paris felt safe and comforted as the woman brought the shirt up, a different feeling from the awkwardness of Jamie taking her in naked for the first time. "I'm going to touch all over," Lorelai promised to her. The promise was kept, as hands went over supple flesh, and Lorelai teased her with words and touches, taking her time. Fingernails scraped across Paris's stomach, finding an erogenous zone which resulted in a deep throaty call of Lorelai's name out loud. Lorelai was overwhelmed by how welcoming Paris was of slow touches, completely different from the classroom setting. Taking her time, she was open and willing to explore everything possible between them.

Slowly, they took their time, kissing and caressing. Paris's small fingers eased each button out slowly as she kissed down the center of Lorelai's body. Reaching the button which was below her bra line, she brought her gaze up to the woman, who nodded the permission.  She didn't push aside each side of the shirt immediately however, letting her other hand circle along the flesh of the innkeeper's thigh as she built the mystery in her own mind of how the woman looked outside of the sweaty confines of a Chilton classroom.

"You are wearing underwear, right?" She asked, moving towards the last three buttons. The answer to that question was...interesting.

"You'll just have to see." Lorelai felt a bit odd, and Paris could sense it in her voice. Not like she's feeling weird though, she surmised, but that I might have caught her when she wasn't expecting me. She didn't have much time to ponder further though as Lorelai took the green shirt off Paris the rest of the way to her neck and out of the arms. She worked it off the rest of the way, and tossed it behind her where it went to the front of the bed. Static built up as she took it off in her hair, and as she came back down, Lorelai could help but catch her breath.

She was shocked at how sensual Paris looked with bed hair, her brown eyes still a bit sleepy. She couldn't help but stare at how a couple hours in bed had taken that formal hair into something else that made her heart swell. Like a hidden treasure, she was beginning to see the side of the youngblooded woman few if any had ever seen.

Straddling above her, Paris felt hot from Lorelai's gaze. Jamie had never given her those eyes, and with her hair falling down against her breasts she was in astonishment that the heavy breathing from the woman beneath her wasn't coming from staring at her exposed bust at all. She pushed herself back down, letting her hands make quick work out of the last of the buttons on the flannel shirt. She was hungry to please the woman, to know that someone enjoyed her for more than a number on a test. She played more, letting her hand dip across and circle Lorelai's navel.

"Ohhh, mmmm..." Obviously she was hitting a spot. Down another button, an anticipation building at the one layer obscuring her from seeing the hotelier in all of her glory.

"Are you scared, Lor?" The woman shook her head. "How off-guard did I catch you, actually?" Her voice deep, she pinched the last button between her fingers and undid it, pushing the two halves of the shirt off lightly. The puzzled look on the woman as Paris brought her gaze to her almost told the whole story, but as Lorelai scooted up to work the shirt up, she blushed.

When Paris looked down, she figured out why. Lorelai finally spoke about the shy subject.

"I had no idea you were coming, seriously. If I had, well...I might have chosen better." She had expected the girl to laugh at her choice or suddenly realize that they had different senses of humor that were incompatible.

She was shocked instead to find Paris's fingers gliding along the gold waistband of her panties, with a sensual smirk as she took in the sight.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. You are sort of a dead ringer for Lynda Carter." Laughing softly, she began to unbutton the cuffs on Lorelai's shirt to fully divest themselves of anything beyond panties. "And you are an amazing woman..." Laying a soft kiss upon the woman's lips, she completed her tease. "A wonder woman, as it were."

Paris did something that hadn't been done in twenty years. Lorelai, usually the silly one during an encounter, felt serious. Her shallow breathing deepened as Paris slid the shirt off from her, and she couldn't muster much speech.

"Par, you...don't say those kinds of things. I'm just who I am." She wasn't one to boast, but Paris attempted to set her straight as she continued to flirt with her.

"But you are a wonder. Most would have given up and been content to be what others wanted them to be. Not you." Letting the shirt fall, she laid Lorelai back down, careful not to weigh too much of her frame on the strained ankle. "I may have started thinking of you like everyone else, but in two years I can't do that anymore. You're amazingly kind and gentle, strong. You don't bullshit anybody and you call Rory on her stupidity when she's about to do something idiotic. You have smart business sense, you contribute to the community, and after so many others wouldn't have given a fuck, you got an MBA to prepare for your own inn." She circled her fingertips around a hard nipple as she went on. "You speak up when you can at school meetings, unlike every other parent who either shuts up or puts their kids first. I don't know what draws me to you, but I can't deny that there's this amazing pull that brings me towards you as sympathetic."

She looked up at the woman, familiarizing herself with the skin-to-skin contact she had never enjoyed with Jamie. "I'll be honest. When you told me to 'can the emotional bullshit' earlier, I wanted to slap you for what you said, because no one says that to me but my mother. But she never has, because I don't show emotion, period. If I cry, I'm weak and vulnerable. But when I was talking with you, I felt validated." Her hands slid up to palm at the sides of Lorelai's breasts. "I knew Rory would tell me to give him a third chance and get over myself. I don't know why, but I wanted what I felt numbed down, not to be told it was OK to cry."

Lorelai felt so guilty for her outburst. "I'm sorry if I laid into you too roughly. You didn't deserve it."

"I did, though." Her fingers began to circle and move inward. "I was afraid to talk to you because of how you feel about Jamie. You know that he's not good enough for me, and if I would have held that back and Rory was here, I may have gone back to him. Probably regretted it right away. I'm a 'good girl'," she stated sarcastically. "If Rory or Louise told me I was stupid to dump him, I might have given him that new chance. When I directed my driver to come into the Hollow, it was to talk to Rory, not you. I was scared because of everything I felt, and shared with you in that classroom. I mean, you have to remember, I didn't care about Jamie at all before he wooed me. He was the one to go after me, and I didn't care at all."

"But because he came all the way up to Hartford, you gave him that attention, and you grew to love him." Lorelai thought she understood Paris clearly. But Paris shook her head.

"No, I didn't. I felt neither heads nor tails about how things would work out, I just went along with it like it was all expected of me. I never said 'I love you' to him like I meant it. My heart didn't feel a thing, he didn't excite me. I've spent so many hours since that afternoon thinking about this, whether I wanted him in my future. Being with him, with Jamie." Her voice lowered to a whisper as she let herself open up to the woman beneath her. "I never felt like I was with him, heart and soul. The night of the rejection, I called him on the phone, and he didn't understand, at all. My dream was Harvard and here I'm crying into the handset, like my heart was actually broken, arteries bursting, ventricles in shambles, and all he said was 'I'm sorry.' I...That's why I couldn't go back to school for a week. Rory didn't visit except to drop off homework, Jamie didn't call. The two most important people in my life couldn't spare more than fifteen minutes to realize that I had lost my way. I had a boy I didn't love, a school that didn't want me, and a best friend who doesn't give a fuck about me." Tears slowly streaming down her face, Paris opened up to the woman. "I don't mean to disparage your daughter at all, Lor."

"It's alright," she said, trying to keep herself from numbing the blonde's pain. Paris bit down on her lip, suddenly unsure.

"Umm, I hope you don't mind if I call you by that name, Ms. Gilmore." A beat of hesitation. "If someone else intimate with you called you that, I don't want to ruin how you associate it."

"Ruin?" Lorelai sighed. " I don't care at all. Actually..." She brought the confused girl into another slow kiss, showing how much she appreciated her beautiful speech. Every word of it had impressed her, made her feel appreciated by the girl. Everyone else seemed to take her for granted in town, but it was nice to have positive reinforcement. Breaking apart, her hands roamed the soft, supple skin of her younger love. "I think the way you say it is wonderful. It's less of an aside, a shortcut like other guys who said it. I think the way you speak is very cute." She smiled. "You've got that Katherine Hepburn voice going on, and I loved her as an actress. But from now on I hear her, I immediately think of you."

"Lor..." Blushing, Paris felt silly, and didn't realize she said the name again, until the woman moaned.

"See, you say it that way, I'm gone." Getting back to the original point of the conversation, she touched upon Rory. "Are you OK though? If you really wanted to talk to Rory, I'm sorry if she wasn't here."

"I wanted to talk to her tonight," Paris said, her voice beginning to take on a husky tone. "But I think I find you and this situation a little more...attractive." Surprising the woman with her strength, she cupped Lorelai's right breast, her thumb brushing up against the hardened nipple, as she let her mouth settle against the tender neck of the older woman, taken completely by surprise. She always thought Paris was aggressive, but this was completely baffling to her.

"Listen, Paris...you don't have to do this..." Her eyes closed as Paris laid soft trailing kisses down her sternum. The faded perfume she wore flooded Paris's senses, giving her a content sense that what she was doing was right, and drew her in. Slow kisses and caresses, taking in the softness of the woman's hipbone, her hands raking the woman's smooth stomach, hidden behind the fabric of the dress the first time. Her small hands sent tremors through the woman that were unlike she ever felt. She forgot for a moment all the awkward pawing and roughness of the touching she had with men. It melted away, along with her wariness of pushing things further.

"Oh God...God...Par..." She closed her eyes, Paris kissing down her middle. Little fluttery touches, her head backing up against the headboard as she sat upright while Paris's hands brushed against the undersides of her breasts. She felt sensitized, overheated. All rational thought melting away from her as those same hands made circles lower and lower. Her nose, softly scraping across her skin, down back towards her navel....

"Saturday mornings most often contain my most vivid dreams," Paris noted between kisses. "No need to rush before an alarm. I thought of myself doing this to you, for instance." Her left hand then moved towards the waistband of Lorelai's panties, a finger scraping within the waistband, the thumb brushing along the woman's mons. "Just caressing, being soft, without any kind of care."

"Are you saying..." Lorelai thought for a moment. "Even before you were up today?"

"Yes, I was." Paris teased her tongue slowly along the panty line, her nose dipping within the indentation. "I had a long society dinner last night I had to attend with Mother, compulsory attendance because I had to get a scholarship which should be just enough to buy a graphing calculator. I fell asleep in my slip, woke up this morning all worn out. But I thought about you there." She laid more kisses down the line, salivating as she pushed down the material blocking her view. "Thought of us, meeting, being secretive. It was at the grand mansion of the Kurtzbergs, beautiful hallway, boring atmosphere." Her teeth scraped the waistband. "You made your way to me slowly, moving away from your daughter, from Emily. You hated being there too, it being Friday night and part of your mother paying for school and all."

Having Lorelai move down on the bed, Paris positioned herself so the foot of the bed was parallel with her feet. "Then you see me. And I'm not my usual boring self. Last night I was regal, and I wore a silk cocktail dress that showed off the girls in full force. No thanks to Jamie having an important foosball final four to play back in Jersey, it didn't seem to have a use, until I came across you in the room. I smiled your way, feeling bold enough to toss my hair, a signal of what I wanted." She began to roll the lingerie off slowly, kissing the woman in tortuous circles. "We were playing it subtle, slow. Mingling around, talking to people here and there as we circled the room, moving in close with each person. My mouth waters, anticipating..." Paris blew out a slow breath up Lorelai's stomach. "I see you, you see me. The room seems a dark fog as I move in closer...closer."

"Uhhhhh..." Lorelai squirmed, overwhelmed by the desire in Paris's voice.

"Still ten feet in front of us, and Ava is in our way, rambling on about the electronic sign to be donated by the class. Yes, I have the funds ready to send to Daktronics. Yes, I want it in color and to be set in with the campus décor. No, we don't need it as big as a flagpole at a Perkin's and visible from 93, just put it in front of the school and move on. Watching you in a blue dress that brings out your clear blue eyes, showing yourself off. You lure me in."

She continued to go into further detail, about how she imagined Lorelai trying to show that she wasn't going to fall for Paris's advances, despite close whispers and sneaked touches giving her overwhelming images of the passion building between them. She was amazed at the detail, how Paris tells the story of her daydream. They moved in close, and Paris dropped the bait to meet her in a pantry off the main hall on the first floor.

The panties came off in a roll, the red/white/blue pattern such a lovely surprise to the teenager. Exposing the woman's glistening mons, she furthered the vivid image.

"Last night I actually knew that tonight would be the last time I would see Jamie, and thinking about you, wishing you were in that situation, I let myself fall into the fantasy." Her nose moved closer to the dampened slit, the raw scent of the hotelier driving her on. "I'm wanting of you, all week long. I couldn't go past that one classroom in the halls and not be reminded that on that desk you broke through my defenses, giving me the words for comfort, the need to have someone there for me to talk to, that frenzied yet beautiful intimacy." The tip of her nose scraped across the sensitized dark curls patterned into a small triangle, and Lorelai gritted her teeth, holding back an obscenity.

"I thought of us in that small room, clothes askew, hair undone, nips and hickeys patterned like footsteps all over ourselves. The naughty talk from you, Lor, pushing my worries away."

Paris then went to the trigger point. "Were you thinking of me all week, Ms. Gilmore? In the middle of all that paperwork, in that temporary storefront where you have to do Inn business, a small room for your office." She blew more air down the woman's exposed cleft. "In your bed, too. You want me, don't you?"

She struggled for speech, shrieking between her words. "What...about...Jamie?"

"I gave him his second chance," she clarified sweetly, and then lowered her voice. "He failed to take advantage, which is a weakness. I don't often respond this passionately to someone who I desire sexually."

"How do...you know that?" Lorelai's words were no longer said fast, but in short gasps as Paris teased her opening with her fingers.

"Because, when Tristan kissed me, I didn't feel much. I felt just enough for Jamie, but when it came time to get to brass tacks, I was sorely disappointed. This has been building for months, watching you, having dreams of you. To have you respond the way you did, I'm surprised. Actually, more like baffled. Never would I thought I would be attractive to you."

"Well, you are," Lorelai responded. "All that skin, those womanly curves, your soulful eyes. I know we shouldn't be doing this."

"Me too." Something the two women agreed on. Lorelai stared down at Paris's head, so sensitive. "But it's just too damned tempting not to do."

"You want me then?" Lorelai questioned one more time.

Paris quickly nodded, looking up at the nervous woman. "How could I not want you?" Circling her fingers around her clitoris, she wound Lorelai up for what was about to happen. Deep within her the temptation built to tease herself with her own fingers, but she held off for her own sanity. "I'm just glad I have you in a place where your wit is deadened by my tongue." She smirked as she moved herself closer, triggering Lorelai right where she wanted her.

"What, just because you think you're going down on me means I can't...be...oooohhh fucccck!!" Lorelai threw her head back, her vocal momentum thwarted when Paris pushed in as her tongue circled the stiff flesh. Starting slow Paris balanced out what she wanted to do with Lorelai with that of another thought.

We're gonna take it nice and slow, Lor, she thought sliently. Give you time to enjoy it. Making small circles with her strong tongue, Paris felt the woman melting against her, panting, growling her name. I'm not some guy who wants to relieve their hardness, just someone who enjoys you, like this. Off-guard, beautiful, able to be yourself, not how you are to buffer your pain. Her tongue patterned a wide ellipse up through her left lip, down the right, alternating clock circles with each sweep of her tongue. She tuned herself to the mother's cries, gauging how slow the woman wanted it.

"Oooh...ohh, yeah. Yeah, like that, come on..." Lorelai's hand kneaded her own breasts, twisting the nipples and caressing the pale flesh. She felt herself slowly building back up to where she was before answering the door, the wanderings on the couch.

"You're so wet," Paris said. "Come on, push yourself in...and...out....in...and...out."

"Par...aaaahhhhh..." Hissing as fingers slightly twisted her nipple. "Oh my God...God..." Paris picked up her strokes, going faster while Lorelai used her right hand as a guide to keep her in line. "Yeeessss...so good...yeah." She kept her eyes closed, reveling in the unique touch of her counterpart. More circles and ovals, Paris brought herself closer to push her tongue against Lorelai's clit as much as she could. She pushed hair out of her way, losing herself in the moment.

"You...taste...so good." Paris felt herself dampening with each thrust in and out, her mind running in a million directions. Lorelai pushed her back tight against the headboard as she opened wider for the girl.

Paris as she promised herself went slow, dipping her tongue in, enjoying the tightness she felt within her body. Getting wound up, wanting, remembering her dream of the morning where they were in the kitchen. The raw scent of Lorelai guided her on, the groans and passion from the woman adding so much to the situation.


"Fuck me...oh, fuck me, Par...God!" Lorelai felt herself quickly losing control of her swelling emotions. Her entire body was dampened, sweat dripping from her brow. Paris circled slowly, deeply, twisting her tongue in various directions to guide her clit in directions she never thought possible. Lorelai became so turned on she dipped her left hand down, tentatively pushing two fingers in for extra stimulation. It was something she always wanted to do, have someone below while she furthered the orgasm, but male pride had always made her fingers come to a shrieking halt.

Not Paris, for she encouraged it further. "Wanna see them only to your knuckle," she begged. "Get them in, I wanna make you come. Come on, Lor, push 'em in, give me some help." The combination of the two stimuli built Lorelai into a bliss, but one she wanted Paris to enjoy with her.

She clenched her leg against Paris, her hand moving toward her ass and forcing the dark red panties down just enough. "Help yourself. You're so damp...I know it. I saw you were going to fuck yourself...in your dream." Her voice was disconnected pants and rough demands. "Fucking me in a pantry...letting your hands wander...I wanna make sure you're happy too, Par..." She slid her shaky finger along Paris's slit from the outside of her slik lingerie, wet with her arousal. "Fuck me, fuck yourself too."

"I...want you to enjoy this," Paris argued, before Lorelai shoved the material aside. "Lor...come on...all for you."

"Not for you...us. Please, baby, enjoy yourself...Make me see how you are when you come with me...I want this."

"Fingers in my pussy...while my tongue's in your pussy?" Paris threw back her annoying hair. "You want that, don't you? Want me to finger myself?"

"Yes...yes..." Lorelai gasped, her body warming. "Push your fingers in...like you think about me...fuck yourself for me...fuck me...I wanna make you forget about Jamie." Paris grinded herself against Lorelai to start things, her panties slowly rolling down with each thrust.

"Oh...Lor...ugggh...uhhhh...like that?" She opened her legs so her clit could find a rhythm. "Do it to you like that...make you feel my cum on your smooth legs, running down them. All for you, my thoughts...ohhh...ohhh...fuck!"

"Feels...so good." The women undulated in the bed, pushing the orgasms they wanted though themselves slowly, trying to draw them out. Lorelai's mouth opened wide as she pulled at Paris's hair from a beautiful slow thrust. "I want to make you come. Make me never forget this...God...Par...Par...."

"Suck it in, Lor, build it up...gonna dip in...I'm so wet for you..."

"Wet for me..."

She sucked in a breath, letting her fingertips guide her to her swollen clit, the hood retracted back. She was beyond turned on. She carefully pushed in to avoid fulfillment too fast. "Oh, it's hard...hard..."

"Touch it, guide me..."

"Want me to touch myself. Play with my pussy with you on top..."

"Yes...yes...yes..." She dove deeper into Lorelai as she began to circle her own mons, hissing with each touch. She always had been subdued with Jamie, but he didn't seem to know much of what she was doing. With a real woman though, things were much different. Forcing her fingers in, she vibrated her tongue in reaction with her voice against Lorelai.

"AHHHH!!!'" Slowly she pushed in and out, her clit softly pinched between her fingers. She dipped her tongue in and out at an increasing rate, begging for Lorelai to speed up to meet her licks. "Come on...faster...faster...you want this, you...need this." Her vocal chords were tight, strained.

"I wanna come...ohh...ohh....ohh..." Lorelai became more profane. "Shit, Par...that tongue...better than my vibe..." Her fingers pushed deeper in herself, meeting Paris's mouth thrust for thrust. The girl sucked on her lips, doing all she could to tease Lorelai. Her breasts bounced against her chest, seeming fuller in the darkness and with the extra attention on her.

Paris's heart pounded within her chest as she pushed deeper inside, getting so hot by the sight in front of her. "I wish you could taste me...damn...oh shit, I can feel myself dripping out..."

"Yes...yes...I want to feel you when I go to bed...in my sheets...spilling out...you're so goddamned tight."

Paris could barely speak, performing cunnilingus on the woman in front of her like it was a project she'd be graded on. The taste and the musky smell brought her in closer, her tongue pushing up the swollen button. She closed her eyes as feelings from her own self-fuck sprung through her body. Lorelai wasn't much better, eventually falling into gasps and shocked grunts.

More time passing, and they were now fully nude. Paris slowly brought herself up Lorelai's body, wanting to share the moment with Lorelai in a close clench. Slow kissing up her body, and then she placed her finger in Lorelai's mouth to have her drink of her arousal. At the same time she pushed her other hand within the woman, while the brunette did the same for her. They found a rhythm, bucking against each other in a calm manner, going slow, building themselves up. The dirty talk continued further, Lorelai calling Paris 'her lady', continuing to be blunt about her pussy.

"Fuck me...I wanted to get off in your bed, Lor," Paris confessed. "I wanted to rub myself off...get your blankets all wet...I didn't sleep for an hour after you left. Your bed...oh...oh..."

"Naughty girl," Lorelai growled, using her other hand to slap Paris lightly on the ass. "Coming in my bed when I'm not here."

"OHHH!" Paris bucked strongly against her. "Fuck, Lorelai!"

"How does it feel, being with me? How do my fingers fill you up?"

"Tight," Paris hissed. Lorelai pushed in further.

"Shit, Par, naughty in my bed, wearing my shirt, stretching it out. I could deny you right now," Lorelai insinuated. "But you feel so nice...AHHH!!" Paris forced another finger in, making it three.

"You're not much better...wearing nothing beneath in the classroom."

"Oh, you're evil," Lorelai groaned. "Yet, I'd do it again."

"So would I...again and again...and again." She sped her thrusts up. "Lorelai, come on...we want this."

"You wanna come?"

"I want to spill out all over your nails," Paris begged. "See them dripping...you licking each finger off...do it...do it..."

"Clench tightly for me, I'm gonna get you off," Lorelai said. "Gonna make you feel this all week. Do what he couldn't to you."

"Deeper...please...oh God..." Lorelai let her fingers curve inside of Paris, looking for that sensitive point. "Jamie didn't know how...you do." She pushed in and out, the soft feel of skin to skin contact such a contrast to Jamie's rough treatment of her. "Please, Lor...ugggh...ugggh." She pushed her own fingers in closer against Lorelai's walls, and they began a newly sped up pace, stroking each other furiously, in and out against each other. Everything came to a head as Paris threw her head back and held on tight to Lorelai for dear life.


"Lor..." They closed their eyes, beginning to feel that tightness overcome them. Moaning out loud Paris pushed Lorelai as far as she could up the bed until they had the perfect leverage together to get off. Wrapping around each other, the women kissed one last time before Paris broke off from Lorelai, biting softly against her shoulder as the innkeeper hit her at her trigger point. She screamed into a pillow pushed against her as she hit her hilt, spilling out against Lorelai while her orgasm overcame her hard. She felt the stresses of the last week begin to melt away with each final push and pull, crying the woman's name repeatedly, begging for a full release.

"Oh my godddd, oh goddd, Lor...Lor..." She began to wind down herself but stroked her hand within Lorelai, keeping a steady romantic rhythm as she felt the woman tighten up around her. She seethed out affirmation as she moved towards the boiling point, undulating her hips in a circle against Paris's own rotations to double her release. She fell into the mattress deeply as they began their final motions, and Lorelai found herself internally thankful that she wasn't acting in the wrong in being carnal towards her.

The release between them was something that went beyond all explanation for both women. They pushed against each other, taking the strokes in, not holding back at all. Mashing their bodies together, there was an intimacy between them that was missing from their former loves. The mutual satisfaction was part of it to be sure, but between them it was also a shared moment, like one of Paris's many goals something that went beyond the wanting to feel. They were beginning to know each other, and crying out their releases out into the humid air of the second floor bedroom, that they were there for each other in a moment where they both needed someone not only unconnected to them to hear them about, but slowly becoming kindred. The inn troubles and Paris's quest to be her own woman, they mixed at the right time together, were heard out, and lead to this moment. Hair tickling each of their noses, the meeting of the sarcastic minds and beautiful women had become much more than the one afternoon stand of the week before.

Paris had her eyes tightly shut as the waves came over her, those beautiful fingers within her working her perfectly into a frenzy. She lifted herself up and down as she heard Lorelai before, and she was surprised that the woman was so soft and settled with her own fruition. Like in the classroom she thought she'd thrash around, but in actuality the hotelier was overcome, yet calm as she rode it out, growling out "Par" in such a sensual and enflaming manner. A way that suggested that she wasn't quite done with Paris yet. Slowly, they settled themselves down, wanting to take their time, enjoy the moment, the feeling of being inside of each other. Paris didn't want to let go, and neither did Lorelai. Nothing could interrupt them at all, and soon Paris's heart was pumping slower and slower as she pulled out, careful that she wasn't too fast, easing her hand out from Lorelai's center. The same with the other woman though she continued to shimmy her hips until she felt herself worn out and pulled away, to take Paris into her arms.

"Oh God," Paris said to herself softly, feeling so out of it from everything she just did. The other woman brushed the hair from her face, letting the hand only moments before within her brush her soft cheek, the tips brushing her lips. She slid out her tongue to taste of herself, the heady and raw liquid coating as promised dripping a bit onto her heated skin. Lorelai tasted of the young-blooded lady, biting her lip and closing her eyes as she moaned while licking her fingertips, before wiping the remainder like Paris did along her stomach. Their eyes were barely opened, the women tired as they drifted into the afterglow somewhat speechless, the hum of the air conditioner and their breathing the only audible sound within the room.

Paris tumbled down so she was on the bed, and let her hand rest upon Lorelai's butt, being soft and gentle as Lorelai settled her hand possessively at her side and spooned against Paris facing her. The enigmatic eyes of the academic beauty reflected the moonlight from the window, shining a light almond instead of the darkness seen within the pupils earlier. She was focused on the beautiful woman within her grasp, the humor and panic from earlier now gone, replaced with serenity. Not a fear between them, or a sense they had done anything wrong. They knew in their hearts that nothing was wrong, and this was right. Paris's skin was like velvet with character to Lorelai, her nail tracing patterns within the natural moles peppering the Jewish girl's body, while the blonde concentrated her wandering in one space, soft, beautiful, lulling Lorelai's caffeine high from her body.

They stayed like that for just over a half-hour, just feeling, watching, and having that security that they wouldn't break apart right away. There wasn't a rush to do more than they had, just that sense that in their crazy worlds, they fit together perfectly. The doubts they both had about the age gap, their differing views on things and the fear about Rory weren't there. Just constant touches, soft kissing, wandering fingers and the occasional compliment from one another about how a certain part of their body was beautiful. For Paris, it was her prominent dimples, becoming a fixture within Lorelai's memory. She let her hand brush the teen's smile line and circle within the depression. Paris thought more of her lover's intense blue eyes, the shade within them so enchanting to her, drawing her in from even across a room. "That's how I knew you were in the meeting room last week," Paris recalled. "I didn't see Rory at first, but I did see you."

"So basically I could have run, but the only way I could've hid is if I blinded myself?" Smirking, Paris smiled.

"They're intense, very much so." She brushed her hand across Lorelai's cheek. "When Jamie walks into a room, the air seemed to collapse because he was so dull. Just by seeing you in one though, it prepares me. It pushes me to know that you'll be there, ready to either agree with me, or bring me into a spirited argument."

"Well, I can't say a parent's meeting hasn't ever been boring without you in it." Staring at the girl, she felt so revered, and light. Like for once it wasn't a chore for anyone to deal with her. She couldn't take her eyes off Paris at all, and she didn't want to move. "I...I honestly don't know what to say about...about that."

"Me...me either," Paris admitted, taking a deep breath. "It was unlike the classroom in so many ways."

"I haven't felt this good in years." Lorelai laughed wryly, and Paris thought she was lying in a boastful sort of way.

"You don't mean that."

"Actually, I do." The soft, throaty voice was serious, no mirth to be found. "I mean, every guy I date, like Max, I pretty much have come off like a prankster, someone willing to try anything once. They think I'm sort of kinky and open to go beyond the usual." She paused, trying to make Paris understand in her terms. "Like let's put it this way, with everyone else there's this bit of danger that I get off to. They see me and there's a bit of danger too. Usually though, that's all they see, and well, I now am the proud carrier of one broken engagement because of it."

"But Rory's father," Paris argued, her voice buffeted in a quiet hush. "Surely that's still there."

Lorelai put those thoughts to rest "Not for a long time, dear. No, not again. He...well, it's complicated between us, but let's just say since I asked him for some kind of help with Chilton before my parents made me take out the contract signed in blood, I can't depend on him. The sex is good, yes. The friendship, amazing. But that's it. In a way I think of him more as a friend who just happened to father my kid than any kind of serious lover at all." Her hand slid along Paris's stomach as she made her point. "Kind of like you and that blonde jackass you loved before he went Felonious Monk on you. You pine for him from afar and think the world of him, but once he fucks up, that's it. You don't see them without judgmental eyes anymore, and he's forever sullied to you by one move. For Chris, that was asking for marriage despite the fact I didn't want to go further."

"I guess there's a correlation between Tristan and Christopher." Paris blinked her eyes, surprised by the enigmatic talking points from Lorelai. "And in a way, I guess we're both the same in regards to each other. We both enjoy regimen and schedule, everything in a straight line. I might want it totally unchanged and you don't mind bumps, but otherwise it's pretty much the same: we're both creatures of habit. But we also crave excitement, and for me, I thought that was Jamie. You, it's this challenging Inn thing going on."

"Exactly, you're right."

"But we never saw this connection we had coming, at all. It wasn't even on the radar." Paris, usually animated with her points was instead calm against the older woman. "I go back over that day, the signs I had that I felt a yearning for you, and I knew I ignored them, but more out of my sense that I'm just plain and dull, while you're extremely gorgeous and stunning. That's why I thought I shouldn't dare to say anything about it. I thought you'd probably just laugh and reject me, think it was cute I had a girl crush on you and tell me to stick with Jamie because I couldn't do any better."

"Heyyy, I thought we were done with putting yourself down," Lorelai said, showing disdain for her lover's thoughts. Her fingers along the small of her back, she kissed the girl on the lips, and reiterated her stance. "Now let me say this again to you, Par. You're not going to be ever called beautiful by Anna Wintour or a soap manufacturer because they're looking for apple-pie girl next door type girls, cold bitches who subsist on pageants and compliments from creepy old guys who think the perfect girl can only be 36-24-36. You may even just cede to Louise and Madeline as more beautiful than you are. But I will say right now that I'm feeling up a beautiful and sexual woman. It takes someone with real guts to stand up to me and say to play up my sex appeal like you did by asking me to take the sweater down a button. If that was a man, damn right I would have squeezed him until he exploded. But with someone like you, to notice that? I'm more than flattered." Touching her index to Paris's chin softly, she went on. "As for you though, when you play up your features like you did in that stunning dress tonight, you're a looker for sure, Paris. You're a natural and earthy beauty that I wish I saw more of out in the world, the kind that only needs a bit of powder here and there, and a bit of Clearasil occasionally. I can tell you don't do much in the morning, right?"

"Maybe some mascara and a shampoo," Paris admitted. "A bit of brushing with the makeup brush to cover a couple spots, but I'm not concerned about it."


Paris shook her head. "I'd rather have a bad hair day than a bad earth day, it ruins mine anyways."

"And your deodorant? Anything fancy?"

"Umm...." She nervously laughed. "I actually need a prescription antiperspirant. I have active glands."

"See, honesty. Another thing that you have going for you!" She smiled, assuring the girl that her unique chemistry wasn't a setback. "Besides, it shouldn't be a problem after next week; it's all that dumb uniform's fault."

"I'm glad to see one of my physical conditions is a turn on for you." Shaking her head, Paris smiled, curling into Lorelai, enjoying her body heat. "But really, thank you for those compliments. I've...you know, this is so weird for me."

"Pillow talk?"

She nodded. "I like to analyze after the fact usually, but when it comes to sex I like to bask, to let my mind wander. I don't feel challenged at all, but I don't need to. I just have to know that what we just did was something amazing, inevitable and erotic. I mean, I craved to be this close to you tonight, but I would have been content to wallow."

"I might have too," Lorelai said, enjoying the rapport. "I just went around Doose's thinking all these thoughts about you but I pushed them off to the side because I was afraid that it was too soon."

"The same with me before I went to sleep." Caressing Lorelai's skin, Paris looked at her, feeling something building between them. "I...really did mean the amazing and erotic part too. I'll feel this on Monday yet."

"You mean that?" Paris nodded in ascent. "I am sorry you didn't really get a chance to wallow though."

Paris, shaking her head, initiated a quick, slow kiss with Lorelai to remind her how little wallowing she needed. When she released, she smirked. "This kind of wallowing is actually much healthier. It burned a few calories." She winked at the woman and uncharacteristically giggled softly. "Also helped me work on my naughty vocabulary list."

"So that's what this was, huh? You just used me to lose a few pounds and say a few curse words?" Lorelai returned the kiss, feeling strangely playful with the academic. "And get naked with me?"

"You're not in a position to complain...Ms. Gilmore." She drew out the proper name in a way that turned the brunette on and made her moan out loud.

"I swear, you are just incorrigible. I give you an inch--"

"Don't give me inches. They've always seemed to disappoint." There was that husky and sensual voice again, driving Lorelai wild.

"Dirty!" She exclaimed. "Wow, Ms. Prim and Proper turns out to be Miss Jackson and nasty! Damn!" Curling into the girl, she played with her hair as sleep began to blanket the both of them. "Seriously, you're not mad we didn't have a movie night with...oh crap." She slammed her head on the pillow.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, your ice cream is now perfect to pour corn flakes into. I guess I should be glad that's the only thing I left out though. I was really looking forward to it too, just sharing something junky and unhealthy for you for once. From the way Rory talks about you, your body is 80% soy."

"She's wrong. It's only about 35%," Paris quipped back. "But if you'd like, I can go one day without my balanced breakfast regimen." With a slight grin she kissed the tip of Lorelai's nose and kept her voice low. "Ice cream it is, then."

"Am I a bad influence on you?" Lorelai asked, teasing the petite girl with her hand sliding along her back.

"I'm in your bed, aren't I?" Paris knew she was walking on eggshells, but enjoyed the freeness of this new thing between the Chilton mom and herself. The two women continued to chat for a few more minutes until their eyes finally became weighed down, and they fell asleep within each other's arms, the security of the locked door so much comfort to the both of them, along with the newfound respect and admiration they had for each other in more than an intimate sense. As Lorelai's thoughts wound down, she reflected within herself about how she wished she would have never made that "I've got the good kid" taunt Paris never heard.

I...God, I was so wrong about her. She stared at the sleeping girl as she curled her perfect blonde hair around a finger. It's Rory who's still the kid. She has all of these people in town, her grandparents and me to protect her from everything big and bad in this world, and her decisions aren't ever rash or sudden. But you, dear, you're not Rory. And thank God for that. How the hell you lived eighteen years with all of this pressure on you to be the best and follow what everybody wants of you with all this peer pressure trying to take you off track, I wish I could know. I wish this would have been me when I was eighteen. Not that I'd ever want to lose Rory, but if I had just ignored, stayed focused and let my ass focus on school instead of boys, who knows? Where would I be?

Her thoughts continued as she pushed close to Paris in a security blanket sort of way. What you did tonight was gutsy. Standing up to your boyfriend, leaving him behind and then coming in and just, how can I describe the last five hours? That we could go from such close heart to hearts and then making love like we did. I...I've never been attracted to women though, that's what gets me. I just could never think of myself as in that direction, though I never thought about it at all, really. But with you, it's like breathing. It felt natural. It felt wonderful and extremely beautiful. I don't want to overthink this, and I know if we go forward we might end up hurt. Yet...yet...

Lorelai began to drift off to sleep completely, losing her train of thought in the haze of her psychosis winding down her continually active brain. Yet somehow it managed to get one more wave of communication out before sleep overtook her, the fears of commitment seemingly numbed by the moment, and the woman snoozing next to her.

I want more of this. Of you...

Paris was having the best sleep of her life, she was fully convinced of that. Her dreams were beautiful and vivid, nothing explicit, but just of her and Lorelai talking together in quiet moments. The caring in the woman's voice, her motherly concern was like a warm blanket to her. Usually she would have been up like a light at 7am, a seemingly permanent trigger for the buzzer within her biological clock. It could never be put back in to silence it and even on the weekends she had to be the first one in the Manor up, lest she lose important studying time.

This Sunday morning though she didn't have any alarm to rouse her from her beauty rest. She was too happy and serene to be disturbed, and nothing could stop her from sleeping the most important day before exams away.

Except a rooster. A very loud rooster which interrupted a mirage of her and that older Gilmore woman having a bitch session about how moronic one of the other Chilton mothers were about booster club issues.

"Shuddup, rooster," she mumbled into the pillow, trying to cover her ears with it to block the noise. But it wouldn't stop and the rooster kept crowing, louder and louder. "I said shuddup, naw ready do geddup..."

She was then reminded that she didn't have a rooster at home, nor had she ever been woken up by one to begin with. The crowing also seemed to be in an unvarying infinite loop, and Paris thought it would be variable at least a little bit. Slowly coming to, she was beginning to think there was no rooster where she was sleeping.

She was right. On the table a brown vintage-like analog alarm clock was crowing at her to wake up. With all of the manners and class that had been instilled in her over the years, she slapped the top of the device with heavy force, cutting the bird sound off mid-'cock'. Groaning, she felt so interrupted, looking over the numbers in the clock to see what time it was.

9:34. So that means I slept just a few minutes shy of nine hours. She wasn't quite used to the surroundings of the room in the sunlight and was lost for a moment trying to remember where she was in it. Stretching out, she let her feet touch the soft carpet, and prepared to get ready to get dressed.

She groaned as she remembered that what she came in wasn't really appropriate to wear on a Sunday morning. She hesitated for a moment, looking towards the far side of the room for the shirt she wore to bed but couldn't find it.

"Damn it." She really didn't want to wear that forsaken dress ever again. It had history behind it, horrible history, full of reminders of the argument with Jamie that ended with their breaking up. But if she were to call Henrico now for a ride home, what could she wear?

As she prepared to make the bed (she was a guest, and it was only considerate to do so), she ended up finding Lorelai's flannel shirt between a couple blankets. For once she didn't want to think about what she wore, and she was chilly from the air conditioning, so she slipped it on along with her panties. She felt in a rush as she made the bed and straightened the corners, keeping her mind off the last night before she actually had to deal with it. For all she knew she had to get out of there with expedient speed in case Rory was coming home early, despite Lorelai's assurances that she was gone until about 11am with Jess since she had some crazy idea that it would be fun to watch him work at Wal-Mart for a couple of hours. She gathered up her things into a spare Blommingdale's Brown Bag off to the side, and though she felt very odd for doing so, also grabbed a pair of clean-looking sweat pants from the Pile of Injury and put them on; she was thankful they were a loose fit. She felt so weird for borrowing Lorelai's laundry, but what else was she going to do?

She was also under the assumption that since Lorelai wasn't in the room, she was having second thoughts about what they did last night. She felt extremely guilty with her own self, taking advantage of an ankle strain to woo the woman. On the top of the landing before she ran down the stairs, she brushed back her astray hair, regret beginning to flair up.

"Oh my God, what was I thinking?" Her voice was panicked, and her eyes were widened as she saw the night, clear as the day streaming through the windows. She was the one in need of help, and with Lorelai she breached that trust to seduce her. "Paris Gellar, you inconsiderate slut!" She pinched her forehead as she berated herself. "Great, so apparently I can only come if I'm breaking up with someone else and in bed with my comforter. Wonderful. I've really done it this time!" If it wasn't for her cell phone being in her purse on the coffee table, Paris would have slumped out of the house in shame.

She hated herself for taking a situation which should have been easy and complicating it further. Still, she tried to hold in what was left of her dignity as she went downstairs to say her goodbyes and eat her ice cream breakfast. Internally she hoped Lorelai didn't hate her, nor would she make accusations that bedding her was the trophy in some Chilton scavenger hunt. She didn't know if it was true, but she wouldn't put Duncan and Bowman past putting that in.

Down the stairs, she hit the landing and headed towards the kitchen, doubtful that the morning light would bring her a happy Ms. Gilmore glad she was in bed with her. Paris was a pessimist at heart and assumed the worst. She saw the usually kind woman realizing her mistake the moment she woke up and shrouded in regret as she made the right turn towards the kitchen. She looked down at her bare feet wanting to shrink away her 5'3" frame before she crossed the threshold. Doubts magnifying, nerves jittery, she prepared for the woman to argue that she was just being nice when they had sex.

To her surprise, Lorelai got up from a chair where she was reading over the Sunday Courant's real estate section, and was the first to tell Paris the wonderful news.

"They put it in!!" She hugged the girl, who totally found it unexpected. "I'm so happy!"

Still tired, Paris wondered what Lorelai was so happy about. "Who put what--" Another surprise, as Lorelai kissed her on the lips when she least expected it. "--in?"

"They said it would take at least four months but they must've gotten through probate and finally realized they couldn't possibly keep it for themselves," Lorelai said, excited.

"Probate? Huh?" Paris looked up. "I'm lost."

"The Dragonfly, remember?" It seemed Lorelai needed no coffee this morning as she bounced up and down. "I've been getting all the financials in place and the loan agreements, and next Thursday it goes to bidding on the steps of Waterbury Courthouse at 12:30pm with a starting price of $29,000. I will be there and hopefully I'll outbid some sleazy guy who bought some $700 course from Don Lapre and thinks he's the next Donald Trump."

"Well...congratulations." Paris smiled at her. "I hope you do get it, since you deserve it and all." And Paris knew that she did; it must've been tough having to keep her intentions quiet and under the cuff to respect the family as they went through the grieving process. "I couldn't imagine anyone else running a better inn than you."

"Thanks for that. If only the town would know that though. Taylor refuses to just give me a hospitality permit without actually having a venue to put a permit in, so until I actually get the building I can't go forward with most of my plans."

"Not even an architect?" Lorelai shook her head.

"It's a courthouse sale. I put in a few bids, hope I don't go over my limit and cross my fingers. I'll get around to historical preservation and all the other issues once I can actually get in the building without risking a trespassing charge." Sighing, she took the conversation elsewhere. "But enough about me, let's talk about you for once. You hear more about me than Cameron Diaz on some days."

"There's not much, I just got up." She looked down at her clothes. "And apparently I didn't pack for a sleepover as you can see."

Lorelai directed a strange smile in the direction of Paris's chest. "Oh, I see all right." Taking it wrong, Paris thought she was in trouble.

"I...I didn't get the urge to dig in your dresser drawers, because that would have been wrong." She felt nervous from the unyielding stare weighing her down. Lorelai pursed her lips together, finding her view of the petite woman to be pleasing. "If you want me to change, I can, if you'd like. You know, because I'm wearing this stuff and...I don't know that you'd give me permission to do so, because..."

The woman backed her towards the refrigerator. "You don't have to change."

"Good. Because, I..." She didn't understand what was going on with her at all. Paris felt so nervous, she couldn't seem to find her words. She felt extremely weak and frustrated, trying to come to terms with what she was suddenly feeling all over again. She thought she was all over it, that she'd be all settled down and move back into her usual guise of being sullen and dry.

Instead, she had to deal Lorelai's eyes staring her down, scanning her and enjoying the view. Flecks of silver seemed to reflect in the light of her pupils, and the blonde thought she heard a soft primal growl slip from the lips of the lady of the house. Her hands moved up, sidling along the button trail of the flannel shirt. Holding her breath, Paris was caught between the fridge and Lorelai, who pushed her legs in closer. Wearing low-cut jeans she showed a little skin along the bottom of her stomach. A peek of blue lace along the waistband teased Paris further and she quickly felt the temperature in the room rising. Her breathing picked up as she tried to distract herself away from the situation.

The woman tested how far she could go with her flirting, her fingers trailing within her flannel shirt and down along her young lover's exposed cleavage. She closed her eyes part way and let her voice lower down further.

"I left the shirt on the bed on purpose." She curled her lips into a half-smile. "I didn't want you to go home in that dress."

"I didn't want to either," Paris reasoned.

"No, it's not that." Taking down the flannel one button, she explained further. "I didn't want you to wear that dress because I'd much rather remember this night the way you were. Sitting on my bed, massaging my ankle, slowly bringing me closer into your world and finding a common ground I haven't found in years." She slid herself provocatively close to Paris, forcing the girl to move a hand back to brace the counter next to the refrigerator. "I felt so awkward getting up this morning and leaving you behind because I wanted to stay in bed with you for another couple hours."

"Why didn't you then?" Paris wondered, feeling a bit shaky.

"If I did, I might have never set the alarm for you, we would've slept until Rory came home and it would've been awkward city." She tittered nervously. "Not that I'm trying to hide you or anything, but--"

"I understand. I'd rather just enjoy this right now, between us without anyone butting in." Paris, usually one to bring up all the complex issues of a non-affair like they having, wasn't ready to dwell on them on any way. "I misconstrued your being down here as a rejection, and I must apologize for doing so."

Lorelai shook her head, her left hand bracing Paris's waist in a possessive manner. "I never meant to make you feel bad. I'm just so antsy lately, anything with the Inn, I have to know. I swear I've looked at the telephone pole outside of Town Hall for the auction notice more than the power company lineman. I just...I want it so bad, I can taste it. But I'm just afraid some speculator's gonna snap it up, or worse, a jackass who'll put it on the market at an obscene price so only some hospitality monolith can snap it up and slap a Staybridge Suites sign smack on the front."

"Lor, you're going to get it," Paris said, noting the panic in the woman's eyes. "That building is way too historic to be reduced to a bland extended stay place. Everyone in town, this county knows that if there's one woman who deserves this, it's you, not anyone else. You didn't spend fourteen years moving up from housekeeper to manager, while sacrificing many a night getting your business degree so that you could run some bland Comfort Inn where you have to counter one hotel's 'Free HBO' with 'Free Starz'. You have the backing. You have the support. Don't go on those steps letting anyone else intimidate you." She directed a stern drill sergeant at the woman, while her steady voice gave her the boost she needed. "I swear to God if I hear you lost that inn because you didn't want to be a bitch and outbid some dick Price is Right-style by $1, I will kick your ass. You bid early, you bid often, and you raise up that hand in the name of not only civic pride, but your own. Because after that, when you complete that building and open it, whoever lost to you should look in your direction and realize whatever McMansion shit plan which was in their mind wasn't worth it at all."

Taking in the girl's words, Lorelai was shocked by how Paris didn't mince her thoughts of the situation at all. Looking down at her, she was surprised at the effect the speech had on her after feeling like she was all alone with Sookie in trying to get the building. All those years staring at it from afar, it used to be a dream, but with the reality beginning to set in, she was beginning to buckle. Could she put the effort forth to make the business succeed on her own terms, or would she be overwhelmed by it? She went to bed every night with those thoughts, and since she was a solitary woman shielding her worries behind humor, kept them internally in her mind.

That Paris could saw through her doubts and tell her in no uncertain terms that she must be cutthroat in the auction, it drove her to the scene of that auction and being conservative at first, until slowly while the others puddled along with their terms and she laid the perfect price to shut them up. She saw some subdivision developer ready to choke her because their stupid cookie-cutter concept wouldn't be on that historic land, nor some fake 'preservationist' woman buying the house just so she could get This Old House and HGTV out there and get her face time while they turned it into some Town and Country nightmare.

No, she thought to herself, focused and stone cold. That is my inn; she's right. There's no doubt that I will get it, I just have to stop thinking about everyone else and just think about what will be done. It's a certainty, and nothing can stop me.

She stared at Paris, entranced by how she had went from so polished that she was sure even the buttons on her blazer were spit-shined every morning to bring out the intricacies within the bronzed Chilton crest, but yet in her flannel shirt and without her hair brushed, she still looked like a stunning and beautiful girl. She still couldn't believe that she had been intimate with her, twice. Where as she should have felt wrong and stupid for even kissing the girl to begin with, she hadn't felt any guilt about what they shared. The way she talked, how she walked, the demeanor in which she carried herself as strong and independent. While she sipped her coffee earlier she had come to the conclusion that Jamie obviously thought he was dating a total pushover in Paris, that he used her being in love with him to try to steer her away from the life she wanted to lead. Thinking she'd capitulate, he pushed her to be with him, no matter what. He didn't see the strength and beauty within her, and for that he went home the night before having lost the one opportunity he had to have a woman who he could match wits with and would be with him through everything, no matter what.

Jamie lost Paris by being stupid. And Lorelai thought that was inexcusable.

She felt a pull inside of her suddenly, a want to show the girl how special she thought she was. Her breath was shaky, her eyes focused down as her fingers drifted across Paris's collarbone, the scent wafting from her a mix of her own scent and the faded fragrance of the night before, meant for Jamie but enjoyed by her instead. In a pinching motion that hand trailed down the center of the shirt, and Lorelai felt desire build up through her again. The speech, Paris's tone with her, that reality check had focused her sights on scoring the inn, but also triggered her to thank Paris for that pinch she needed to drive her further.

Lorelai hadn't spoken in a couple of minutes through her thoughts, and Paris was naturally worried.

"Lorelai?" She questioned the woman nervously. "You OK?"

She directed her gaze downward, towards the sweatpants, hanging awkwardly around Paris's waist. Seductive, she let her voice lilt with her desire.

"I'm fine, but how are you?" She found the waistband of the panties and slid her hand along it.

"What are you doing?" Paris began to pant as the woman's hand drifted within the shirt. "I...I...it's still early in the morning."

"I'm going to get that inn," she said, pushing open a button and circling her thumb along the top silk edging. "You're certainly right about that."

"You....know I'm right." She began to feel closed in.

"Of course you are." Lorelai's cool palm slid down Paris's right breast. "But you know what else I want?" Her head moved closer to Paris's, lips directed right towards the woman.

"What?" This is...what are you doing to me, woman? Paris was beginning to feel pushed to her limits.

"The reason I had to get up and get away from you is not because I regretted you at all." She kissed Paris softly, letting her tongue slide across those full lips and pushing her hand down a bit more. The drawstring of the sweatpants was hastily done and quickly loosened, with the garment falling into a pool at Paris's ankles. Pulling away barely, her sweet motherly voice was a whisper as the naughty woman who wasn't known for being subtle made her point. "It took all I had to get away from you because sleeping, you look so sensual and soft, like a living embodiment of Sleeping Beauty. I felt guilty for wanting to wake you up just for my own needs, so I threw on my robe, headed to the shower, and...You can use that MENSA-approved imagination to figure it out." She nipped her upper lip, and Paris felt her control beginning to melt away, along with all of her fears. She drew out Lorelai's name, overpowered by the idea she got her wet just by laying there.

Pushing closer to her core, Lorelai played to Paris, soothing her, going on about how the night before meant so much to her, how beautiful it was to know that behind her prim façade, Paris was a wildflower, no wallflower at all. Paris began to encourage Lorelai further, wrapping her arms around the small of her back, trapping her and pushing things along. Never in her wildest desires did she think this would happen to her. Lorelai drifted kisses from her mouth and down her neck, and soon she had pushed the shirt far enough off so that Paris's shoulders were both exposed. The brown-eyed girl was being seduced in the way she always desired, the one to be controlled. She easily ceded it to Lorelai.

"You want this, don't you?" Lorelai said deeply, with her fingers trailing down Paris's dampening mons. "You've been anticipating this."

"Maybe," Paris admitted. "I kind of had a dream that I remember a bit of."

"I think I heard that." She took down the shirt a couple more buttons, sliding it further down her arms. "Something about you and I, the kitchen at the Independence?"

"Oh God, I slept-talked that one?" She blushed deeply.

"It also involved the Bracebridge Dinner, if I recall." She moved down, kissing along the petite girl's collarbone.

"It did...oh, man. Yeah, that...that's a trigger point." She groaned, turned on as Lorelai kissed down the her side from the crook of her arm down.

"You were mad because I wasn't period appropriate."


"So you pushed me into the kitchen and lectured me further, and apparently I made a joke of some kind." She pushed her fingers against Paris, teasing her slit through her panties. "I don't know though, you mumbled it. You were having it just as I was dressing in the bedroom."

"Oh." If there was a hole beneath her feet, Paris would gladly jump down it. But she was too turned on to even move. "You must think...I'm so annoying."

"Annoying isn't the word I would use," Lorelai soothed out, kissing her way across Paris's chest. "I'd say that you are more...unique."

"Righhht. You're thinking of somebody else..." Paris rolled her eyes back, fingers circling in a lengthy circular stroke, teasing towards sliding in the space between the fabric and her skin. "Ohhh, damn!"

"Am I?" Lorelai inquired, relaxing Paris further against the fridge while the shirt slacked down to frame her chest. "You do know you had me right in this same position in your dream?"

"Against the cooler?"

"Mm-hmm. How could I not think that was hot? Your active imagination's giving mine a race here." Her fingertips pushed aside the soaked material to expose one side of her lips. "I never thought I'd hear the words 'If you're not going period appropriate, then don't bother wearing clothes' from you." She then pushed up, shoving the material aside to rub Paris's clit.

"Well I never thought you'd listen! That's why it's a fantasy!" Pushing against the cold surface of the metal door Paris rooted her foot against the bottom plate of the white appliance.

"Fantasies can come true though," Lorelai said deeply. "Fantasies can be fuel for your soul." She slid her hand to fist the wet material. "Fantasies, they keep me sane."

"Lor..." Paris felt herself tightening up in plae.

"Tell me what you want, Par. Make it come true, I'm right here." Her fingers spun around the pink nub, letting the blood flow away from Paris's well-worn brain and towards her aching center.

"I don't know...I don't...oh God, please, keep it up, keep it up...ugggh."

"You have a kinky woman on your hands who has your panties hidden in her nightstand. I did something in them, I thought of us, together in my bed. I fucked myself to the thought of you, wearing what you did that day we found our common ground..." She instigated a strong open-mouth kiss, caressing the girl's soft face, running fingers through her silken locks. Paris pushed Lorelai harder against her, her hands gripping Lorelai's ass at the bottom.

"That is...so wrong..." Paris gasped. She was far from repulsed, the images of the woman rubbing her pussy within them making her flush with wanton lust. "Fuck...go on...yes...yes..." The stroking became faster as the woman's fingertips worked their magic.

"All week I've been bad, thinking of you when I should've been cheerleading for Jamie. Instead I had my fingers in knuckle-deep and thinking of them as yours, or mine inside of you...I can't stop thinking of you at all, Par. The Inn's #1 in mind, worries of my daughter 2nd, but you're definitely the one I turn to so I can forget all about them." She slid a finger in, continuing her clit rub while stimulating Paris further.

"I've...been a naughty girl, Ms. Gilmore," she admitted between throes. "I even wore...your skirt...to a Sunday brunch. The one I stole. I wore it...so I could fuck myself in it...ohhh...ohhh..."

"God, Par," Lorelai kissed her again, their tongues twining, the scent of Paris's pheromones overpowering. "Did you soak it?"


"How much?"

"I spent two hours...thinking about us...I was bare except for it and black thigh-highs...nothing on..." She closed her eyes, seething as Lorelai slowly inched in a second finger. "I thought of you on top of me...rubbing my tits...getting me off, hitching up the skirt...aaaahhh, oh shit!"

Lorelai's voice darkened, the imagery so vivid, thinking of Paris on a bed like she had in childhood. "You're a bad girl, ruining my clothes like that."

"I am...I'm horrible...I play all quiet and innocent in school, but I like to be dark. Love...my dark side. Being vindictive, a bitch."

"Do you enjoy punishment?" Pushing in the two fingers in a swift motion Paris almost collapsed. "Knowing how much you pissed me off that first year?"

"I...I actually got hot to you...punishing my friends for sneaking out...it was something else."

"You were good that night. But not the rest." Lorelai was relishing everything, her shock in Paris's language quickly pushed aside because the cultured monotone being filled with such disobedience giving her such a challenge. "I never hit, but I do love to shame, Par. It's a rush to do something to make someone think twice before they mess with me." Her thumb turned counter-clockwise to circle as Paris braced her right arm against the fridge. "From now on, you soak my clothes only when I'm in front of you."

"No," Paris sneered out. "I'll think of you however I want, in whatever I want."

"Par...I'm serious." Her strokes went deeper, past the knuckle, a third slowly inching in.

"You're all talk!!"

"Oh, am I?" She pushed down the shirt, moved down to suck at Paris's left nipple, scraping at it lightly and suddenly, while down below she used her left hand to take the material of Paris's panties. She was intending to push them off to one side, but instead they tore at the seam and almost came apart as the force stressed the silk threads holding the garment together. Paris cried out loud, bumping her head against the fridge, the gall of the woman sending shockwaves through her system.

"You bitch!!" She scorned. "FUCK!!"

"I love that name, fits me well." Smiling up from her breast she lathed her tongue around the nipple, as Paris became a mess in front of her. She was gushing out small bits of arousal, her eyes rolled back in her head as the older woman turned her out like she never had been with Jamie. Soon she pushed in and out to meet the strokes, overwhelmed by her heated body. The loud gasps and moans quieted into a line of incomprehensible whinnying, Paris pushed hard against the fridge, her ass making an imprint against the door of the old workhouse of the Gilmore household. Lorelai pushed against her as the fridge shook in front of her, a box of Special K and an older can of Hills Bros. knocked down to the counter in the rush. Lorelai's eyes took on a lustful shade of cool blue, pushing out Paris's come with all that she could muster.

"Come on Par, come for me, spill out, baby. I want to feel you." Paris kept meeting her strokes.

"Wanna real bad, wanna come. I want you...Lor...Lor...fuck...damn..."

"You're so wet, so beautiful, very tight, you know how to do this..."

"I do...yes...yess...uggh...yes...please..."

"You have a nice tight slit, come on, do it. You want this, you need this. Something to think about for exams, please, want you to do this."

"Lor...roll faster...faster...faster..." She picked up the stroking, while her shirt rode up to expose her belly. Lorelai pushed it up, craving that skin-on-skin contact. This was all for Par, not for her. She just wanted the girl to feel comfortable as possible. "You look beautiful Lor...yes...oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, yesssss..."

"Come on, bad girl, get it, I'm ready for you, do it, come against me, I want you to."

"Your hands...so beautiful...slim...perfect...fucking me...fuck me please Lor, make me come, I beg."

Lorelai felt the clenching from Paris's walls begin. "You're almost, I'm going faster, spill...spill."

"I can feel it, oh crap!"

"So tight, so fucking tight, you feel so good!"

"Lorelai, oh God! I...I...fucking brilliant, fucking awesome, oh dear!"

"Come on..."



"Gonna...come..." Her eyes tightened hard, her calves stretched out as she braced her foot and rear against the fridge door. "God...oh God...ohh...uhh..." She hyperventilated deeply as the torrents and waves began to rumble through her body. Never had she thought Lorelai could be such a commanding woman to her, giving her this pleasure and dominance. She bit her lip trying to hold back a scream, but her lungs filled deeply with air, forcing her exhalation out in a strangled gasp that she hoped wouldn't suggest Lorelai was murdering her with an axe.

The woman's pumping was heard within the echoing space, Paris dampened like she never had been before. She settled against the girl and offered her shoulder to settle her head on, expecting her to take it.

But even in her loss of focus, Paris wanted this to end on a note she didn't want to forget. She slid her left hand up to cradle Lorelai's head, and pushed her mouth against hers in a scorching kiss filled with all of those emotions she never found with Jamie at all. Their mouths opened, Paris was inviting of Lorelai's tongue and twisted hers around as if desperate for the woman. Her throat reverberated full force as the orgasm flowed through her small body. Her muscles were tight as the endorphins took effect, extending her pleasure while she kissed her favorite Chilton parent deeply, almost in a possessive manner. She pushed in and out slowly against Lorelai, elongating the pleasure as long as she could before the effect of her orgasm began to dissipate. She puffed in and out against Lorelai's mouth, her breaths quick, while Lorelai let her other hand settle against her chest to take in the pounding heartbeat of the young woman.

"There we go. That's it, let yourself unwind, this was wonderful, right?"

"Uh-huh." Paris was quiet, overwhelmed by the recent occurrences. "Yes, good." Slowly Lorelai drew out of her, knowing the connection was almost umbilical as she brought the girl to release.

"Easy, easy, just let yourself settle." She pushed Paris's damp hair out of the way, resting her forehead on hers, doing what she could to keep her from short circuiting. "I really didn't think you'd be that all wound up."

"I...didn't...either." Paris couldn't think straight as she came down from her euphoria, surprised with even herself as to how much Lorelai got to her. "Oh dear." She felt a bit mortified standing in the kitchen with Rory's room right in her view, pushing her damaged panties back across her as much as she could, though a portion sunk from the tear.

Lorelai pulled away from her and she almost slid to the ground against the refrigerator, only to be kept up while Lorelai retrieved a chair from the table and had her crumple onto it. She was completely and utterly relaxed, nothing weighing on her mind. Exams were as distant as her college graduation to her, and for once she didn't care that hours of precious study time were spent instead with a woman she used to loathe for having better luck than she did in life.

She groaned, closing her thighs as Lorelai licked the dripping arousal from her fingertips, savoring the taste of her intimacy like a gummy bear. "Can I ask again why Jamie never went down on you?"

She rolled her eyes, annoyed by him. "It wasn't proper."

"For a Princeton student he's pretty stupid." Lorelai laughed, grabbing a dish towel to wipe the remainder from her fingers before washing her hands. "You are a sexual dynamo, honey! Rory goes on as if your sexual matters are like a root canal, but you've been hiding this wild side from everybody." Washing her hands, Paris pushed up her sweatpants and began to re-dress as she talked to Lorelai as if finally, someone got her.

"I've always been wild," she shared. "But with the parents, academics and everything I stay out of the spotlight. I can't draw attention to myself or really go beyond the pale. Jamie just happened to come at the right time to give my parents something good to say about me that doesn't have the word GPA or 'First Team' within it." Lorelai sat down next to her, pushing newspaper sections out of the way.

"I can't imagine. You have yourself sealed up, and you can't let anyone in."

"It's frustrating, really. I have all these thoughts over the years about things I'd like to try, but once I finally get a boyfriend, he doesn't want to explore. Like, I wanted to try some long lovemaking, right? Not all night, but something like three, four hours, slow mini-orgasms leading up to big ones, no patch of flesh unkissed. I want to try that. But Jamie just wanted to stick it in me and get done."

"I haven't had that in years," Lorelai admitted. "My guys are all about that too, they don't care about us. I really hate to fake but I've done it more often than I've come from someone else." She looked down at the table, admitting a result of last night. "Before we were in that classroom, the last time I felt 'happy'? When I said yes to Max's proposal and we celebrated."

"That can't be good for you."

"Imagine, two years between an induced orgasm. You wonder why you made me scream so loud!"

"Lorelai," she demurred. "I'm not that good. From what Jamie suggested, I was just short of average."

"From what I could feel last night, his definition of average means that Marie Curie's discoveries were on par with the ad guy who came up with the Lucky Charms song!" She looked at Paris seriously, just feeling so much for the girl, proud that for once she could be the one to give her some happiness. "I know you really hate to gloat and that you'd just think you're good in bed, that you'd much rather that passion goes into your schoolwork or how you edit the paper. But that back-and-forth we had last night as we talked, that subtle flirting and what followed after that, that amazing sex we weren't both expecting of all going into that evening." She took Paris's hand, a kinship beginning to bond them together. "It's not easy for me to say that there's a connection, ever. I've dated on and off for years, but I don't know that I've felt such a spark with any guy that I have with you over the last couple of weeks. Since that day I've doubted that I was right, and I was sure that the classroom was a one time thing. Just expending stress, going forward from there, having that one moment where the Tetris pieces connected in the right way and we had the line piece thingy fall into the hole." She shook her head, wondering why she came up with such odd analogies. "But it's clear that there's something between us. That, and you're really, really, as you said in your own words about me... 'fucking brilliant'."

Paris felt an unexpected swelling in her stomach at Lorelai's speech. She was surprised to know that the woman also felt a building connection with her. "So...you agree with me?"

"I think I do."

"That you don't want to leave it here, and that you do want to explore this further."

Sighing, Lorelai felt a bit guilty about what would soon be stopping them, yet looking into those deep eyes she knew that she was tired of not having somebody to comfort her. She was also sure that with Rory heading to Harvard, Paris was going to isolate herself wherever she attended, that she'd be scared of making a new best friend, only to have them brush her off for being too intense. But the lure was too strong. Paris was a wonderful young woman, someone she knew like her daughter would make a difference out in the world. She just needed that push of encouragement to think that she could be more than she thought she was.

The solemn tone of her voice was unlike Lorelai, but when it came to a serious decision, she had to be dead-set on it to use it.

"If I regretted this one bit, this would have been goodbye for us. But I can't do that. Not after last night." Lorelai moved her chair close to meet Paris eye-to-eye. "I'm...I know that you have your college search, getting your nanny settled in Boise, figuring out your majors in the way. I've got the inn and backpacking in Europe to worry about. And I know the last thing either of us want to be is a...a..."

Paris completed the sentence. "Dirty little secret."

"That, yes." Lorelai hated saying the words, the entire phrase filled with deceit and trouble. "I'm...sorry."

However, the girl seemed to know what to say. "Don't be sorry. It's just the way things have to be for now, there's too much going on for us."

"But I'm just afraid that this might be it, even though I want more. That by the time we get back--" She was interrupted by Paris softly leaning into her, drawing her into a slow buss that showed the warm passion the schoolgirl felt for the woman. She ran her fingers through her curled dark hair, and the way she touched the woman soothed her right back down.

"Lorelai, I'm unsure about my college at this point, but I can be certain it won't be west of the Appalachians."

"Paris, don't do that, I--"

"I have to stay close to home, and not because of you. I feel like if I head to a Western university, I'll lose sight of who I am, who I want to be. I don't want to come back home and have lost all of my ideals because they aren't compatible with a sorority's. New England Is my home, and I want to stay because what if something happens to my family? If I end up at Cornell, fine, I can deal with that. But not at Stanford."

"Rory said that you had an app in there though. Also at UCLA and Arizona State. She even said you were considering Nebraska."

She sighed, feeling bitter at the girl for revealing her secrets. Frowning, she cleared things up. "That's because my adviser suggested I throw in some apps just in case. They are nowhere near my radar though. God, what does think I am, a cold bitch willing to abandon everybody? Is that how she really thinks of me? That because Harvard rejected me, I'm going to flip off the entire fucking Ivy League? I have family here, my life revolves around New England, I could never imagine leaving this area so I could go on some 'finding myself' bullshit journey." She began to cry, bringing Lorelai close to her. "Despite what she thinks, how unsettled I am about choosing a school, I have acceptance letters from schools that are within a 300 mile radius of the Manor. Those are the only schools I'm considering. I just want to make sure that when I choose, I'm of sound mind and body, not acting on emotion or anything. Which pretty much rules out anything within the 128."

"Nothing in Boston, then."

"It's too close. I can't be in a place where a school my heart was set on rejected me."

"I can understand that, then." Lorelai wrapped around her, knowing that though Rory was pushing her friend away, she was willing to pull her in. "So, this is what you really want. You want to attempt to have something with me, the crazy old woman."

"I do," Paris said with certainty. "Even if you are neither crazy, nor old."

"You don't have to flatter me, Par," Lorelai said, curling her voice and smiling at her. "You are half my age and I can tell already you're going to age like a fine wine. The day you turn fifty you'll still look as beautiful as you did at sixteen."

"Lorelai, have you been latently crushing on me?" She giggled at the idea that her bitter self at that age was sexy. "Come on, I looked horrible!"

"Well, a few days after that thing where you watched me kiss Max, I had a dream. We had a three-way..." Paris reeled back.

"Oh, no, no, no! Medina is so far from my type, never, ever would I consider him! I mean...why would he have a brick wall in his apartment? When you told me that...yuck! Your poor back!"

"Let me finish. We had a three-way...for a minute or two. Then you overpowered him, he left and...I imagined you looking how you did in bed last night, and you were beautiful, daring, sexy. It was very odd, but I woke up and just thought 'wow, if only she was like that in real life'. Little did I know that's how you'd be last night."

"So...you were prepared for this?" Paris smiled. "I guess I can tell you I've always thought of you like Anne Bancroft in The Graduate. You're beautiful, seductive, and independent. You have a daughter. And...you did try to seduce me, Ms. Gilmore." Lorelai shuddered as she used that Mrs. Robinson tone of voice. She nipped at Lorelai's lip and pulled away, the two women teasing each other mercilessly.

"Par?" Lorelai's voice was a whisper.


"You are truly the most stubborn and incorrigible girl I've ever met."

"I better be, I'm the only girl you've ever really had," she proclaimed boastfully.

"Please, get in the shower," Lorelai begged. "If we continue like this, I swear I might not be responsible for what I'll do next."

"What would you do next?" Paris challenged.

"Leave a hickey that you'll see. Even under the collar of your uniform." Paris rolled her eyes and got up, dizzy from the insinuation. She had a bruise on her shoulder, and a few love nips on her breasts already. She was marked and being so drove her crazy. Being in bed alone was going to be interesting for her over the next week, being able to trace each of the bites. Though she was glad to know her own love bites were all over Lorelai's breast and down her navel and lower.

Jokingly she lobbed her new favorite nickname at the woman. "Bitch." After a goodbye kiss on her cheek, she then turned around to walk towards the bathroom, thankful that she was cooled down enough that she wouldn't touch herself while she cleansed. Lorelai grabbed the Sunday comics while ogling the girl as she walked towards the hallway to the bathroom. Peeking out as she opened the page up, she couldn't help but enjoy the view.

"Tease," Lorelai said, and then proceeded to read the newest adventures of the inhabitants of Apartment 3-G and try to figure out Slylock Fox's newest mystery, her mind still stuck on the girl. I swear, she's a sparkplug, she thought, hoping they would meet one last time before she headed off to Europe.

"Home, Henrico." Forty-five minutes later with much trepidation, the Gellar town car pulled out of the gravel driveway of the Gilmore home. Paris, who had been a total wreck when she got out fourteen hours before, was much more composed and calm in the eyes of her long time driver, and he was glad to finally let her know what happened to Jamie after he dropped her off.

She loved the staff of her family, and how much they had her back. Speaking through the intercom, the driver let her know he made Jamie's night a living hell. "I told him to take a bus back up to the Manor to get his car."


"What, I dropped him off at a park and ride in Meriden! So he had to wait a half-hour, but I wanted to get home!"

"But how did you get him out of the car?"

"Simple...$20 a mile, you get to the Manor to pick up your car. I was so surprised he didn't take me up on my kind offer!"

"You're worse than a cab to LaGuardia. I'm disappointed in you, Hen!" Smiling, she offered her own solution. "Why not $50?"

The kind driver laughed. "I should've just told him to hand me his AMEX. I'd take good care of it!"

"My hero, the driver!" She was glad to be rid of her 'excess baggage' and rested against the door of the car, totally relaxed and refreshed. "His car wasn't very impressive to begin with. A Miata? Come on! I can't get that thing up to 120 in ten seconds like the 911."

"I was wondering what you saw in him. He'd probably get behind the wheel of your baby and cry like one because he could never drive it like you do." Turning onto the expressway, they continued to talk about the night, with Henrico covering for her with her mother by saying Jamie treated her badly and she stayed overnight in a hotel. Paris shared as much as she could about Lorelai without broaching any of the intimate details and painted a glowing picture of the woman. Henrico was happy for her that she was able to get her frustrations out with somebody and noted she looked much less stressed than the night before.

Tired, Paris prepared to take a little nap for the half hour drive back up to the Hartford Hills and turned off the intercom and put up the dark partition...

Then her phone rang. Taking the little device from her bag, she flipped open the screen to see who was calling. Hitting the send button, she answered the phone...

"You know," the voice at the other end said, "I've been all through my room and I can't find them!"

"What's that, Ms. Gilmore? Sorry, we're heading into a tunnel, I have to call you back!"

"Tunnel schmunnel! I'm sitting here in my bedroom and thinking 'you know, she tossed them somewhere and I know where they landed.' But no, I go to look there, and there's nothing. There's carpeting, my throw, that horrible book Michel pawned off to me to read about nine years ago I never gave back to him because, eh, why bother. But I didn't find them."

"Find what?"

"You know what!" She sighed. "It took me a half-hour to work for the money to buy them at Target and they made my ass look so adorable and gave me that 'oh wow, you're cute and wacky' reaction when I sleep with someone. At least I thought they would until you were all 'oh, you're a wonder woman, Lorelai Gilmore, you're inspiring, like Geraldine Ferraro or Hillary Clinton' and then you went down on me. And now I'm looking for them and I can't find them!" She directed a pout over the phone. "I'm actually cleaning my room! I haven't done that in six months but one trip over something and it's like I have to baby-proof myself from being taken out by a vindictive sparkly top."

"So, what can't you find again?" Paris repeated. "I can't seem to recall taking anything of yours with me besides your clothes and a pair of slippers..." She reached in her purse, letting her fingers linger across a red, white, blue and yellow garment. "Oh, how did these get in here?"

"What got in there?"

"I have no idea; it's that I'm weirdly not willing to describe over a cellular phone line...Wonder Woman!" She felt downright evil...and she loved it.

"Paris Eustachia Gellar! How dare you hold my panties for ransom!"

"You still have mine, and you tore the ones I'm wearing!" Paris shot back. "You didn't seem willing to part with them."

"And you still have my skirt! You now own an entire outfit of mine. What are going to do next, purchase a brunette wig, blue contacts and high heels while learn how to talk quick and witty and learn how to run an inn? I swear, if this is an effort to steal my identity--"

"What, you'll tie me up using the Lasso of Truth?" Paris was really having fun with the woman. "It would be kind of useless though, but kind of kinky."

"Oh God, I have my daughter coming home in fifteen minutes. I do not need to think of you all tied up. Geeze, you're giving me hot flashes here!"

"But it gives you an excuse though. You can't get away from me, Lor. Your borrowing my clothes gives me an excuse to have you come over. Now we just need to justify a reason to do so."

"I'm down on my knees right now--"

"Wishing you could get me off?"

"Damn, I walked right into that one." Lorelai groaned. "I mean gathering up my clothes."

"Good, you'll be safer in there with your room clean."

"Actually, I need something to take my mind off from you...with my panties...doing things with them...oh, heaven help me."

"I am rubbing my fingers against them right now. They're soft and comfortable, like you are."

"If I don't go to bed thinking of us you're going to be insulted. I can tell." She shook her head. "In all seriousness though, thank you for coming to me. It means so much to be respected in that way to give you advice. That's why I actually called."

"You're welcome, Lorelai. I just feel so much better now that Jamie is out of my life. Like this is a fresh start. This year's been bad, but there's still another half of it to go, so it can still be saved."

"I'll be there whenever you need someone to talk to," Lorelai assured as Paris looked out from the window. "I know how it is to have parents like yours, and that the staff isn't always enough. If there's anything you need, or want, you've got my cell."

"I really appreciate that, Ms. Gilmore." She felt at ease, feeling a bit emotional. "Thank you for all you've done for me through this tough time. If you hadn't been there, I don't know where I'd be. Probably gloomy and dark."

"That's how I felt when Chris dumped me, but I got over it. But I had to do it alone, without help. I didn't want to talk about it with anyone here so I just sucked it all in, and it was a horrible feeling to have. I had a kid...you have college and a whole five-generation thing to leap over to define yourself. You're going to need so much support, and you shouldn't have to go through it alone. Or with the Gruesome Twosome."

"Would you believe the girls want me to just suck it up and attend UConn?"

"No, I don't believe that. I thought they wanted you to go to a beauty school."

"That was their second choice, before 'marrrying an old Pfizer exec and living off his money.'"

"Eww. You with an old man, not a good thought."

"Oh, so you as an old lady would rather I stay with the likes of you?"

"Paris, dear, I am not an 'old lady'. I'm what you would call, 'blissfully aging well.'"

"Or blissfully in denial," she off-handed. "I don't see many women in the PTO thinking they can wear Wonder Woman panties."

"I have told you I have no shame, right?"

"Many, many times. Somehow I'm glad that you don't, it would turn you boring."

"No, see, if I had some shame, I'd still wear things like Hello Kitty and Scooby Doo, I'd just be making sure I'd be wearing baggy stuff beneath it to counterbalance the shame with the want to dress that way."

"So we've established you've dressed as a flirt," Paris stated. "How do I dress then?"

"Simple and sexy," Lorelai responded. "You tease more with your words than anything else. It's devious though, because you hide your Venus-like body behind all those uniforms and turtlenecks. Once that's off, you're almost impossible to resist."

The girl blushed, sliding down as far as she could, unbelieving of her lover's words. "Ms. Gilmore, I'm not like that, at all. Don't compare me to someone like that, please."

"It's the truth, though. I see your friends and it's like you're the hidden jewel in the group. So shy and self-conscious, but yet when I get you in the right spot, you're no lamb at all. You're a downright lioness."

"You're just saying that--"

"It's like RAWWWR!! Last night you came onto me all cool, collected, wanting to massage my ankle. A half-hour later I'm all scraped up and sore, in a lovely way. You are, as my staff described about certain guests who were loud at the Inn and required earplug handouts to other guests, one bed-pounding hot mama!"

"That's so uneducated!"

"What, I can't censor my co-workers!"

"But it's flattering." She giggled. "And you were good...for someone twice my age."

"What if I was your age?"

"You'd kill me because we'd still be in your bedroom without any sleep."

"Damned straight. Get used to it, I'm a sex freak."

"Not for the next week," Paris moaned disappointedly. "Exams starting at 8am sharp and going to Thursday, then six days of rehearsals, award ceremonies, scholarship collections and meetings, parties with the family and other students. By the time I get to graduation on Wednesday I'll be glad when I can sit down and scream in relief that it's all done."

Lorelai felt for the girl, and made her an offer. "Do you need me to call? I'm sure I could make a few through the week."

"If you want to. I could use the boost at times. Just, we'd have to plan carefully. Not while Rory's around, not while my parents or Madeline and Louise are with me."

"That's why we have voice mail. If I can't talk, I can leave messages."

"Good thinking." She curled up on the seat, feeling the need for a nap. "Also don't be shy about texts. Need something to keep me sane."

"You're just looking for an excuse to use the vibrate function."

Paris's throat caught in shock. "I am not! It's not even that powerful!"

"They actually have jelly things where you put the phone in one end and then you put one end up your--"

Paris rushed to interrupt her, beyond embarrassed. "Ms. Gilmore, may I remind you that I'm in your sweatpants, sitting on Italian leather that cost $4,000 to upholster. I would rather remain dry for the remainder of my ride."

"Fine, fine. I'll let you go shortly without any more teasing. Although I should because you're holding my clothes hostage."

"Do you really want to come by and have tea with my mother in order to get them back?"

The girl had a point, she had to stay incognito, and she'd rather have Rory just assume it was a quiet night at home. "Fine, you can have them for now. But don't stretch my shirt out."

"I won't."

"I know you won't, because I'll have a microscope with me when you bring them back to make sure."

"Geeze, it's not like I'm lugging a triple size under my bra. The shirt is 2XL, it'll be fine."

"You never know, the next time I see you, those things might have grown above D and into E."

"Oh God, I am not going to talk about my teenage development with you over the phone. I've been that big since I was fifteen; they haven't changed since then. Seriously."

"I'm just joshing. A joke, Par. You know, funny ha-ha."

"I know." Paris smiled, getting ready to let her go. "I'll treat your clothes like they were my own and you'll have them back in perfect condition."

"Thank you."

But she sprung a surprise on the woman. "But I keep the panties."


"You do owe me. Twice."

"Fine, you win." She shook her head, smiling at the girl's soft nervous laughter. "Bye-bye, Venus. Have a great week. Talk to you soon."

"I like the name, it fits me, strangely enough." Her voice was light as she signed off. "Talk to you later, Wonder Woman."



Closing the phone, Paris felt at her most serene since the day student government began and Francie conspired against her back. In one week she would just have to worry about choosing her college, and her summer was completely open. No Jamie, no beach house, and best of all, no being stuck in a university south of Trenton featuring mob movie rejects. Life is good, she thought, putting the phone back in her bag.

She thought once again about everything that happened, the discussions, how she worked it out, and how her 'one time thing' was becoming much more than that. She wasn't thinking of the word 'complicated' at all, knowing for now they could both break apart without much of a consequence. She also wasn't ready to define herself under a label. For now, she was still Paris, possible Chilton valedictorian, not a lesbian. Her thoughts had always wandered towards more respect and admiration for the opposite sex, but since Lorelai was truly her first female crush, she had to know before she could know that she was either an "L" or a "B".

For now though, her focus would go back to exams, and the comfort of the woman in Stars Hollow when she needed it the most. Maybe this is the start of something. Or maybe not. But if it is, I'm ready for the journey. The Hartford skyline in the distance, Paris prepared for what she thought would be the most interesting two weeks of her life. It was going to be a fight to the finish, but whatever happened, she knew one thing; she was now calm and collected, and Lorelai pushed her eyes back on the prize.

Rory, prepare for war, she thought, ready to teach the girl that she may have let her guard down with her mother, but the v-slot was still up for grabs.

Meanwhile, Rory walked into the living room, seeing her mother watching one of the 129 HGTV decorating show clones, totally zoned out and bored. She was glad to see her again, although her night with Jess, she wondered if she put her mom to shame.

"Hey mom, how was your night?" Looking up from the couch, Lorelai responded to her.

"It was kind of quiet, boring, dull." Not noticed by the younger Gilmore was the bright pinkish glow along her cheeks, and the cheerful tone of her voice. "Paris came over, she dumped Jamie, I told her it wasn't the end of the world, she slept on the couch and left. Pretty much what you'd expect for her."

"I'll have to talk to her tomorrow," she said.

"Actually, I'd stay out of her way," the mother warned. "She doesn't really want to talk about it."

"Oh. Well, I guess if she just wants to forget it."

"She does, definitely." Rory plopped next to her mother and began to talk about her night with Jess, in lessened detail.

Not that it mattered to Lorelai. She knew exactly what Rory would say, so she paid little attention and recalled her night with Paris in her imagination, not saying a word and able to ignore the details of her daughter's seemingly hot (but from the details given, quite boring) evening.

I'm not forgetting this, she told herself as she recalled Paris's flirting before they kissed again. I may have the smart one, but Paris, you're definitely the sensual one. Her smile never left her face through all of Rory's words, a reflection of the peace she felt after another night with her favorite new little bitter blonde. She also decided that Bananarama song about Venus was kind of awesome.

Partings & Commitments

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