DISCLAIMER: If I would say I owned Gilmore Girls, Amy-Sherman Palladino/Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, Hofflund-Polone and Warner Bros. Television would have something to say about it. When they sue me. Which is why I tell you I don't. So we're hopefully all disclaimed; 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.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't think there's any way to say it, but I'm sorry if I kept you waiting so long when it came to this chapter. I know I say I write it between Longing sessions, but still it's no excuse and I'm hoping the next chapter comes out in much less time. When I read I spent 58 days writing and editing this (mind you, that's just with the document open; I didn't spend literally 58 days writing it), that sort of tells you something. Hopefully the length of this chapter will more than make up for the time I've spent writing this. I also have to apologize, but the reason this is coming out on Christmas is because I have epically failed to deliver on my holiday drabble challenge. Not a word. I blame the most stressful holiday season I've ever had, where if I wasn't at work, I was either shopping or having to escape the bad karaoke singer the mall hired instead of their traditional gift wrappers. Which meant I had to wrap gifts. All by myself. I make kindergarteners look good. Thank you to Danielle for as always being ever-patient with me, and being there when I was ready to give up on writing in general out of frustration. It isn't easy writing stories which are sometimes ignored for lesser work, but her confidence in me helps me keep writing when I'm at my lowest moment. I also thank Dragonwine, a writer in the Devil Wears Prada fandom for his kind words about my stories. I recommend that if you haven't read his Lesson Learned series yet, that you read it as soon as you can. It's just incredibly brilliant. Finally, Marieke, the #1 LorPar fan, whose collab fic got me to get this out. This story is unbetaed, but I have done my best to correct any mistakes. If you find any, please let me know. And with that, it's time to come back to the world of LorPar and how they fell in love...
SPOILERS: Nothing really spoiled besides Those Are Strings, Pinocchio. Again in this story, Lorelai bid on the Dragonfly the day after graduation instead of during it, Rory is going to Harvard, Jess to Boston College and both are together, while Luke is a non-factor within this world.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

The Innkeeper's Lover
By Nate


Chapter Three
Partings & Commitments

12:45pm, Oakenwood Country Club, Clubhouse Dining Room

Why did I agree to do this? On such a beautiful day outside two days after the happiest moment of my life and a day after the second happiest, did I agree to come here and have lunch here? Why oh why? I mean yes, I get out of dinner tonight, so that's a side benefit, but I have to spend two hours, alone, with her, here? I never liked this place, too stuffy and boring, and her friends have that fake sincerity that grates on my nerves--

"Lorelai!" A sharp voice rang through her ears, blocking her thoughts out suddenly. Lorelai looked up from her plate of something she didn't remember the name of to see her mother staring at her disapprovingly. Not responding back to her, Lorelai wanted to go back to her thoughts, but Emily was going to milk the last two hours she had with her daughter before her Europe trip as much as she could.

"I understand you're distracted by your plans for the inn, but when you have lunch with me, I expect to have a conversation. You think there's such a thing as a free lunch, but there isn't. I expect you to appraise me on your life and for you to listen to me."

"Mom, I am," she argued. "But I've been run ragged all week. I haven't even slept very well at all."

"Whose fault is that then? You need to plan your time better than you have lately..."

And here we go again. Lorelai went on autopilot as her tired body attempted relaxation in the stiff back chair as Emily berated her for not taking her charitable offer of money to purchase the Dragonfly, or for her father's help in order to secure the building. Never mind that her bid of $61,386.23 was just enough to outbid a real estate speculator and a developer looking to put a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut/KFC/Exxon station on the land day the before at Waterbury courthouse. The bidding had taken a half-hour to complete, the documentation three hours before the deed was given to her. Lorelai wished it was all over, but had come to the Oakenwood Country Club straight from Stars Hollow Town Hall. Two early morning hours in the register of deeds and building permits offices were not the woman's idea of fun.

To Lorelai, exhausted hardly met how she described her mood. Squeezed out, drained, ready to collapse; it would take many adjectives to define her at that exact moment. Since Monday morning she had helped alter her daughter's gown to fit, listened to Rory rehearse her graduation speech over and over, planned the graduation party that followed the ceremony, and in between got in everything involving the Inn so that on Tuesday morning they could get on the flight to Munich from Logan. She was cursing that she had to backpack now, for all she wanted was to lay down for three weeks straight and not have to lift a finger.

But she still had to get through lunch with her mother. Easier said than done, as the older woman made it known that even with the purchase of her dream and the successful push of her granddaughter through fourteen years of schooling that the 'nightmare' that began when the plus sign appeared still hadn't ended in her mind view. Questions about the kinds of employees she'd hire, contractors, imploring her to take advice from that 'kind Clark Howard fellow on the radio' or that she might want to put the inn into a protected trust. Where Lorelai tried to enjoy her food, it was next to impossible as Emily then drifted into the disappointment she still felt about Rory going to Harvard rather than the Gilmore alma mater. When will it end, she wondered, with an hour yet to go.

She felt stuck, really wanting to run away from her responsibilities. Her feet hurt like hell, while her usually clear blue eyes took on a dimmer shade, and her hair had to be a mess. She could usually do so many things so easily, but whether it was the June heat or the timing, nothing was working out for her.

Lorelai went on to have an almost civil conversation with Emily, while holding her tongue whenever one of the woman's friends came upon them. Back-handed compliments about her and Rory were thrown at her, congratulations that she had a valedictorian daughter buffeted by surprise that she would be the one to have the valedictorian. How she wanted to go off on them, but she didn't want to leave Connecticut with all of her bridges burned. The sparkling water she drank had a metallic taste to it and she couldn't wait to get home...

Where she wouldn't be able to stay, since Rory needed to go shopping for backpacking supplies and other items at an outdoors store. Her bed seemed farther and farther from her with each and every minute that passed.

Paris also seemed to be all the way on the Oregon coast within Lorelai's mind too.

She hated herself for having to maintain a wide berth with the girl that two weeks before had made her feel young and appreciated again. Since that Saturday night and Sunday morning they had kept their distance, not from any regret over the comfort they gave each other, but everything happening outside of the intimate circle they managed to build beneath Rory's nose. The lust she had for the blonde was still as strong as ever, the yearning she had for Paris continuing to build with texts and voicemails exchanged between the two through the exam week. Hiding Par's number beneath a gobbledygook name she was able to keep a dialogue going, one that seemed strong through the week, but had come to a halt on Sunday evening as preparations for graduation kicked into high gear.

The pleasure of hearing S-M-S in Morse code was replaced with the agony of 'No new messages' appearing on her screen. The closest she came to the girl, on Wednesday at graduation, when in the public venue she was reduced to giving a friendly hug and words of encouragement when she just wanted to sweep the young woman into her arms, the beauty of her within her cap and gown so overwhelming to her and showing that truly, the formerly awkward girl was starting to come into her own in the world.

Windows into that world from Rory were shut down coldly with 'I don't want to talk about her' or 'I really don't care.' Lorelai was surprised to see how non-chalant Rory was about the pain her friend went through breaking up with Jamie, too buried in her relationship with Jess to take a moment to see that not all love stories were happy. There was some talk a couple nights before, until exams had totally buried every topic as it was every girl for herself.

Worst of all for her, were the dreams. Sexual dreams that were vivid and exploratory, touching on themes brought up as the women texted and voice mailed each other, and never seemed to stop. If Lorelai thought the twins dream with Luke was the limit of odd dreams to be interpreted, how could she explain one where her and Paris were living in her house together as a couple, with Luke as a sperm donor as they crossed their fingers for the little white test to have a line on it? She had kept it to herself and brushed it off as an extreme anomaly.

Yet, they kept coming, like clockwork. Paris's light scent in her mind, mixed with her pheromones as they both took turns either seducing each other in Lorelai's dreams or in one instance, the brunette ended up rethinking that first project where Paris came over and she gave her ticket up for the Bangles, having Sookie drive the girls to New York and inviting a disinterested-in-80's-pop Paris to stay, where an instant attraction built up between them, ending up with them making love on a pile of trash bags and old stuffed animals.

Her mind was stuck on the girl, and she couldn't figure out why. Even in her mind during auction bidding, that authoritative voice was there, telling her to bid that extra dollar she needed to outdo the next person, and she kept doing it, annoying the speculator right out of the auction. She knew to herself without Paris's advice she might be filing an application with some out-of-town inn to be an assistant manager instead of owning her own building.

The time passed, and so did the second and third courses, Emily suggesting attractions in Europe to see that were far off her path. Dessert came and she attempted to order a cheesecake, but an offhand that she was putting on weight by her mother convinced her to order a small slice of torte instead. She wished she could rush through eating it, but then the inevitable table manners lecture would come her way. Lorelai just wanted to be out of there as soon as she could, so she ate in tiny bites, mouth closed and without her elbows on the table. She suffered through the final topic of having them as an emergency contact despite her already letting Babbette know she was the contact, and had to apologize to the regal woman for the slight despite the fact it helped that if she had to call someone from Europe, her next-door neighbor could probably help much more than someone on vacation. It wasn't as if she was fully shutting her mother out, but she was going to be in the Vineyard for the summer, which was less convenient than the mainland.

Finally, 1:30. Sweet freedom! Lorelai was giddy to leave, to at least get a two hour nap.

"Well, it's been nice, Mom, but I have to get going," she said in a rush, offering a weak hug. "We will see each other again in August."

"You will call every third day," Emily commanded. "If I can help it, you and Rory will not join a random band of criminals in eastern France or become Gypsies." Lorelai tried to argue that she didn't have the ability to call, but the older woman had none of it.

"You can put a pre-paid SIM card in your cell phone," she reminded her daughter. "No need to grab a germ-filled payphone."

"But we have Verizon. There's no card slot!"

"Nonsense. Pick up a cheap Nokia in a duty-free shop. They're only about $35 and the cards are reasonably priced. I will not lose contact with you or Rory. What if one of her contacts at the school wants to get a hold of her?"

Damn it!! She hated this, hijacking her trip with her daughter. She was going to Europe to get away from everyone, especially her mother. "Fine, whatever. I'll email the number I get the first day, Mom!"

"Thank you, Lorelai." Smiling, she began to turn away. "Have a nice summer."

"You too, Mom." Lorelai watched her turn and whispered under her breath. "Hope you get a horrible sunburn on the 2nd of July." Grumbling, she grabbed her purse, laid a $10 bill on the table for the tip, pushed in her chair and walked away, stewing that she let her mother get to her once again. "I don't want to carry a phone for them. Damn it, you think you get away and then they snare you back in." She didn't look at the clerk at the front desk of the dining room and walked out into the main hallway, which went between the social building of the club and the other building, which contained the clubhouse, lap pool, and locker rooms. She was glad she didn't have to follow her mother out to the parking lot, and was already picturing the cool pillow of her bed for a three hour nap she craved and wanted before the mall trip with her daughter. Lorelai dragged her feet along the carpet as she walked, her stride unusually less than relaxed as she tried to forget the past two hours. She hoped she could leave quickly, worn out and run down...

But as she looked up to find her way towards the exit, she came to a sudden halt. Suddenly she was finding her eyes, instead of looking at the door out, trained towards that of a certain girl she hadn't expect to see at all.

She gasped out her name. "Paris?" Shaking her head, she tried to rationalize that the woman wasn't her. After all, Paris's hair wasn't often in pigtails, and she certainly didn't play racquet sports, as the crisp white tennis outfit suggested she was doing while she was at the club. She hoped to turn away before the other girl would notice, but even with 35 feet dividing them, Lorelai's panic, along with the echo chamber of the hallway, was well heard by the attentive teenager. She turned around, and her eyes immediately lit up at the familiar sight.

"Ms. Gilmore," she said in restrained excitement, pushing up her duffel bag. "Strange meeting you here." She strode towards Lorelai, a lift to her step as her day brightened upon seeing the now former Chilton mother.

"Uh, hey, Paris." Meanwhile, Lorelai wanted to slink out. She had no idea how to behave in a public setting like that, especially when she felt herself get weak at just the sound of the girl's voice, her pulse quickening. Brushing her hair back, she tried to keep her focus on Paris's face. "What are you doing here yourself? Um, you don't seem...the sporting type."

"Not usually, no. But I enjoy tennis. Keeps my mother off my back about wasting away my country club membership and gives me a good outlet to let out stress. If the club assigns me a partner, all the better because they usually can't catch up to me."

"Well, I feel bad now," Lorelai said, "I had to miss you eviscerate your opponent." She chuckled nervously, remembering how much she hated society small talk. She redirected towards the reason she visited the club. "I'm here for my mother; we just had lunch together."

Surprisingly, Paris could sympathize with her. "You sound like I am after I have to share a meal with my maternal grandmother. Wasn't fun?"

"Being a size nine squeezing into size two jeans is fun. I felt like the entire Spanish Inquisition reincarnated within my mother's body." She shook her head, feeling a bit more comfortable. "I get out of dinner at least tonight. Though I wish I could relax, Rory needs to go shopping."

"Really, you have a Friday night free?" The ladies moved into the hallway leading into the locker room, with Lorelai following unconsciously. "After so much time running around, you need a break."

Shaking her head, she tried to rationalize putting others ahead of herself.  "I don't. Rory wants to go shopping for supplies. I'm trying to beg out of it because I've been on my feet for the last few days." She sighed, feeling so stressed. "I love her and all, but I just want some time to myself before we leave for Europe."

"I know what you mean," Paris said, empathizing with Lorelai. "I'm so sorry I haven't been able to talk lately. It's just been so busy at the Manor, the speeches, packing by my mother to go off with her guy for the summer to the Virgin Islands, college. I have so much to talk to you about, but I'm afraid we won't be able to find a moment."

On the other side of the conversation, the innkeeper could have swore she heard Paris's voice become shaky, as if she was disappointed that they couldn't find another moment together. At the entrance of the locker room, she suddenly felt a pang of hurt towards the girl. She had something to share, but had to keep it in.

For how long though? She wondered to herself. Bringing her gaze up, she had avoided looking at the blonde as much as she could, trying to hide in public how she felt for her. Maybe if I look at her now, the feelings will decrease. She might not be thinking of me sexually at all anymore, who knows? The news might be she has a new boyfriend.

When she looked directly at her, however, it was obvious that the girl could only think about her. All of Paris's attention was concentrated on the brunette, and Lorelai could see sense she was biting her tongue to hold back an untoward thought. Her cheeks were warmed, while her hand barely held the covered tennis racket at the handle. Paris's eyes were scanning Lorelai, from the dark navy jacket she wore and the matching skirt, to the pink silk blouse beneath, and all the way down her legs, which rested upon tall black heels which were barely keeping the older woman upright from all the stress in her life. Internally, Paris's body temperature was rising as she found her thoughts for her Wonder Woman return anew.

Lorelai rubbed her fingers together nervously, trying to push aside the tension between them. "You're...you're not busy this weekend?"

Paris nodded. "I don't really have any free time besides tonight and Saturday, actually. I have to help Louise firm up her commitment to Tulane, and next week I begin my Rebuilding Together project for the summer. This year, they trust me to be a foreman, putting up the walls and doing electrical."

"So, you have nothing tonight, then?" Lorelai began to lose focus. "What do you have planned?"

"Not much. Mother is in New York for the weekend to be eye candy for her beau during the Yankees/Mets series at Shea, Daddy is in Mumbai, and the staff in the Manor except for a couple of maids is on vacation for the next week. I'm thinking of maybe taking advantage of the time alone and watching a couple films in the home theater, swimming, or reading. I don't know exactly what yet, but whatever it is, I'm not going to stress over things, at least for tonight."

"You have plenty of stuff to do then to have fun, right?"

"I suppose. I could even take my 911 for a spin down to the coast, but every Tom, Dick and Harry at Chilton and Hillside has that planned." She felt a bit shy sharing her plans, and unnerved by how warm she was getting from the proximity of her newly found older friend. "I spent yesterday being nostalgic, going through all the things I've saved, old homework, essays, drawings. Everything since preschool, my father put in the attic. I just want to look towards the future for now."

"Well, I hope you have fun, whatever it is," Lorelai said, her heart hammering as she took in the petite woman in virgin white as she dropped her duffel bag onto the bench below. She was nervous, trying to tell herself that the idea of Paris in sporting attire which brought out her curves full force was nothing to get so turned on over. She'd probably think I was incredibly rude, she thought to herself, trying to strangle thoughts about how the V of the shirt Paris wore was immediately going into her dream arsenal as something that definitely looked hot on her, but would be even better on the floor. She shook herself mentally for falling back into lust so fast. Her eyes glazed over as the blonde took her in tentatively, wondering if the woman had caught on to her opening.

Pursing her lips together, she lightly pinned Lorelai against a locker, keeping her arms loose so that she had the comfort that she could leave the grasp anytime.

Still, the action startled the other woman a bit, and she felt her heart hammer at the subtle dominance of the situation. "Paris, what are you doing?"

Her monotone was strong, full of a suggestive bite. "Ms. Gilmore, does Rory really need you tonight?"

"I'm sure she does."

"She might have before Wednesday, but not anymore. With that Prius now in her possession, she can go wherever she wants, and you don't have to wait for her to come out of some film you find boring, or go to the bookstore when you want Dunkin Donuts." She began to lay the trail of crumbs, her left hand grasping onto Lorelai's wrist. "I really have so much to share with you, details that can't wait until you come back in August. It would be terrible if we didn't get together again, because I'd rather share it with you, my station of sanity." She smiled at the woman, watching her transfixed by how assertive she was, and how the girl wanted to be with Jamie was instead being pushed out by her. Her cheeks reddened by the attention the young woman was giving her.

"So what you want me to do," Lorelai said softly, "is relax tonight? With you?"

Paris nodded her head. "I really do need some time with you. Rory can live for one night."

"But how am I going to get out of going to REI with her?"

"I wish I could find an excuse for you. But you know, that inn does come in handy now. Congratulations on your successful purchase, by the way."

"How did you hear?"

"Internet. The county keeps their courthouse sale records on their site and I checked before I left this morning." She dipped her fingers into the cuff of Lorelai's jacket. "I promise you I do have a good reason to invite you over. I'm afraid if I tell Rory what's on my mind, she'll tune me right out."

Lorelai still felt a bit unsure, but was falling into the rhythm of the building conversation. "I'm sure you might have good news."

"Not disappointed here." She began to pull away from the woman, a rush of blood flowing through the newly graduated girl as she took in the curves of her tall counterpart, still visible through the suit. "If you absolutely can get out of it, I'll expect you there by seven. I'm sure you know where I live."

"I do? But I wanted the cute little flyer on yellow paper with the little map on it." She laughed at her own joke as Paris just gave her a head-shake. "And if I can come?"

Suddenly, she was taken aback as Paris perched up on tip-toe and gave her a quick kiss, flitting her tongue across the brunette's plump lips. The panic that someone would walk in on them quickly flared in Lorelai's heart, but she couldn't panic, for she was stone still, taken aback by how the other woman was pushing the limits.

Pulling away, Paris tucked some hair behind her ear and gave Lorelai one more once-over as she prepared to head for the shower, opening the combo lock on her locker to begin to throw her things in until she was done. She said nothing at all as she lifted the shirt over her head, turning the moment into a long and pregnant pause while she let the kiss fray Lorelai's synapses. I'm going to make her make her realize that Max and her daughter's education weren't the best things to come out of this school, she evilly thought to herself, having thirteen days to plan her next move with the woman after throwing caution to the wind that Saturday evening. She turned around, letting her shirt fall onto a hook in the locker, while facing Lorelai with a lustful look that belied that the schoolgirl she had made love to only days before was no longer defined by that term at all.

Her gaze was struck with Lorelai's deep blues stuck on her white sports bra and trailing down her stomach, down towards the thin fingers grasping the locker door. She felt comfortable eyeing her up even if her moral center was screaming for her to look away. Interacting with only gestures and hinting, the silence became broken by the girl bringing Lorelai out of the lust-filled chasm, only to throw her right back in.

"The question isn't if you can come..." She paused for emphasis, gathering a towel, shampoo and body wash from the locker and shutting it. She turned to look at the woman one last time. "It's how you'll come."

Lorelai almost felt herself faint, unbelieving that this was Paris that would say these things. She pulled away from the woman's personal space, but not before Paris closed things out.

"Remember, 7 o'clock, and dress casually." Turning around abruptly, she smiled to herself as she felt the skirt twist around her counter-clockwise, just enough to spin up a few inches and give the older woman a short, but perfect glance at her apple-shaped backside. Oh, am I ever glad I decided to go with the Wimbledon whites today, she thought as she heard the woman take in a deep and audible breath. Carelessly tossing a towel from the clean pile onto her shoulder, she enjoyed knowing Lorelai was watching her and barely containing the fight or flight response of pushing her against the wall as she turned the corner.

Meanwhile, Lorelai found herself dizzy, thinking of how two weeks ago Paris was so shy about her sexuality. But around her, she was becoming such a minx. Watching as she turned the corner, she shook her head and adjusted her skirt, trying to come off as the mature woman she thought she was.

But what she felt between her legs suggested otherwise. Stumbling out of the locker room, her heart still beat fast as the rush of the hanging flirt went all the way through her. Having to watch Paris walk away from her, she still couldn't believe that the uptight blonde was the one taking her towards the other side of her sexuality. She always thought to herself that someone completely different, a 'knockout' woman would bring her around.

Paris, though? Even so many days after giving into her urges in that classroom, Lorelai was still flummoxed about why she was attracted to Paris beyond her subtle surface beauty.

Maybe...it has to do with that control element. I think so. Heading to the parking lot, she mentally tried to explain the relationship to herself. But then again, she also doesn't mind control coming from me. We both have this sense of routine, and being together throws that all out the window. She's also so voracious, willing to learn, and I can't seem to stop her curiosity. We didn't really breach that last time, but...

She stopped herself about 100 feet from the Jeep, stunned by the track her train of thought was running on.

"Wait, last time?" She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of how she referred to the relationship. Her voice was at a whisper so no one heard, but she couldn't believe herself. Lorelai felt overwhelmed suddenly, the same feeling she had when she thought Max would give her plenty of last times and next times.

Only this time, the feelings were stronger, but she felt more uncomfortable. Her heart pumped faster and she felt a blood rush as she pictured herself and the other woman sharing their time in bed two weeks before, the comfort and familiarity that she seemed to be unable to find so strong with Paris. She remembered that all through the night, she didn't feel uncomfortable at all, or odd. Lulled into calm after the storm of telling Paris her world wasn't over and then seeing her show that she knew the second chance was an error in judgment, there had never been that sense with anyone else.

Getting into the car, she continued to think, of her past and the regrets that she had. Of how she loved Christopher and Max, but she couldn't give her heart away, scared she would become like her mother, cold and unloving once her spouse molded her into being a proper wife and mother. She prided herself on never getting to the step of having to call in a TV nanny to take care of her child, and that her time receiving WIC aid was thankfully short. Always afraid to show too much of herself, she hid herself behind a façade of quips and non sequiturs to misdirect anyone who wanted to know the real Lorelai Gilmore, the one who still to this day doubted herself deep within her soul that she was doing right.

Starting up the vehicle, she settled herself into the seat, the words of Paris still resonating with her. She's interested in me, and I'm interested in her. I want this, even though everything else is telling me I shouldn't. Slipping off her blazer, it was then she realized the full force of how Paris was getting to her.

She turned her focus to the road in front of her and drove out of the parking lot, trying to stop herself from imagining Paris in the shower in the clubhouse. Her body was tight and on edge with her bra feeling tight, and she had to rest her left foot on the hood latch to prevent the temptation of rubbing her thighs together after holding herself back for so many days without indulging in herself.

Eventually she decided as she entered onto Route 93 that she would go, Rory be damned. I need this, she thought. I know it's so wrong, so forbidden. But, God, I can't imagine her sitting there alone at 11pm tonight watching the History Channel, pissed off at me because I went shopping, something I can easily do tomorrow. If just for my sanity, I need time away from the town, from the Inn...from everything.

She let a slow breath draw from her mouth, feeling the calm she had the day after return for the first time in a week or so. The middle-age woman knew she was playing with fire, going into a situation with this girl all alone and hoping the spark of their last two meetings was still strong. But if she knew herself, and she knew Paris, they both lived on having a challenge.

Biting on her lip, she pressed the gas pedal so the speedometer went just a smidge over 75, finding a smile inch onto her lips as she found her clarity, and the perfect way to let Rory go for the night.

"I'm not going to think of this as a date," she said, determined. "Just two women, talking and commiserating about their lives, that's all. Like we did that Saturday night. Nothing big. No biiig deal at allll."

As she finished her words to herself, she couldn't resist pushing her legs together, the warmth that used to have to be induced by her own thoughts between them, now instead caused by a petite Jewish girl with a firecracker temper which had cooled down within her arms. Smiling, Lorelai let herself go, keeping her concentration on the road, yet remembered the rumble of the engine coasting into her seat was a very small, yet important reason she went with the Jeep.

"Of course if things wander off like they did the last time, you won't see me complaining." The innkeeper drove down the 93, readying herself for the upcoming night and already having the perfect excuse to let her pursue her current happiness.

7:00pm, Gellar Manor

Anyone could usually surmise that Paris Gellar was always cool under pressure, no matter what was thrown at her over the years at Chilton, be it at a debate, on the paper, or in the classroom and in her studies. She got off on a last-second plan, and her quick mind served her well so many times over the years. So many times she had averted a certain and expected F into a strong A, and everyone knew if they needed someone who had herself together and would give them all the help and drive that they needed, it would be her.

But getting ready for a 'chat session' with only five hours notice? Not something she was used to by any means.

She kept calling it by that title in her head, despite how she had behaved within that locker room to Lorelai only hours before. Driving home, Paris came to the conclusion that she might have come on too strong, and that the other woman was turned off by not only how she came off to her, but the way she pretty much commanded her to come over.

I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't now. She prepared for it, ordering three pizzas from the local parlor and trying to find a perfect movie that didn't have a Discovery Channel logo on the spine. She went with The Princess Bride, a choice that she would never usually make as she hated fantasy movies, but she also hated spending more time at Blockbuster than humanly possible, as her curt 'I'm here to rent a movie, not become a data mine for your corporate office' response showed when they asked her to join a loyalty card club at the checkout.

There she sat in the dark room in an isolated corner of the mansion, ready to face up to her feelings, which had only built further for the last two weeks as exams and graduation finally passed, freeing her from the scandal of having sex with a Chilton mother. Now she was just a regular mother, although still her best friend's mother. She vacantly read a Newsweek waiting for the minutes to tick down until Peter Jennings' smooth Canadian delivery of the world that day lead into the screaming terror that was Mary Hart's voice blaring about Anna Nicole...again.

She clenched one of her fists in, rubbing it from the inside, trying to build her confidence up. This is right, this is right. She didn't say no, and she hasn't left a message saying this is off. It has to work out. She felt as if the entire world was rooting against her to bomb the date within minutes, that being in her mansion, the small town woman would realize prejudices of old, the hate of high society and her standing in her life back then. The classroom was neutral ground, while Lorelai's bedroom, she felt very comfortable and at home, a place where she could pad about without being yelled at by an OCD housekeeper about having 'dusty feet'. Never in that entire evening had she felt as if Lorelai would chew at her if she forgot to do something like change an empty toilet paper roll.

Her eyebrows scrunched up as she read the Periscope vacantly. The two weeks had put her on edge, those thirteen days seeming to be an eternity, filled with changes that would be defining her life from here on out. She was in a good place, calm and centered, all bitterness that Rory and Brad had topped her in the final ranking gone because she didn't have to give a speech where she would probably chastise Charleston for breaking his personal promise four years ago to assure her a place in Harvard.

That was Wednesday though, the final day of her school career. Today was Friday, and the only place she'd ever have to hear about that cursed man again was probably going to be in his quarterly begging letters which were less subtle than the appeals her father received from Connecticut Public Television.

She still never got over the $50,000 donation he made in her name ten years ago to support the network's distribution of Barney & Friends. Paris loved her father for supporting a worthy institution, but she loathed the simplistic nature of that stupid dinosaur's program.

Trying to find a last distraction as she prepared for Lorelai, she went over her clothes one more time. Paris never felt like a t-shirt and jeans kind of girl, and for her to wear them was alien. But she knew everything would be doomed if she donned a stiff dress or her usual corduroys. So after she left the club she spent an hour digging through her closet looking for one of the many souvenir shirts her father gave her on trips back but never wore. Cities, places of business, sports teams unfamiliar to her (or couldn't ever stand, like those damned Yankees). She ended up in a Liverpool F.C. jersey in the end, not only because it was comfortable, but because she wanted to show the other woman that she wasn't like anyone else that Lorelai ever dated. She was a football fan and would have played herself, but with her mother in control there was no way to tell her she didn't want to pursue soccer beyond the YSO level. So she would instead spend many a weekend doing her homework while being thankful for satellite television to follow her favorite teams.

The blue Calvins fit a little loose, but only because Paris felt as if she wasn't built to wear low-rise or tight pants. She felt comfortable, casual, and a bit normal. After throwing her hair into a loose ponytail, she also felt just a smidge sexy. At least I don't have to throw on makeup, she thought, glad that she had notice this time that the woman was coming back for her. Curled up on the sofa she cleared her mind with breath exercises, positive thoughts, things that she knew Dr. Birnbaum would encourage her to do. She was beginning to feel relaxed, at ease with herself as her hands finally stopped their shaking.

Her breathing was even, thoughts calmed. She wasn't going to overthink anything and keep a relaxed vibe through the whole evening if she could help it. It was just a night for her and Lorelai to catch up, and they had to start the night as adults, just talking to each other. We did that, she reassured herself, remembering the long ramble they had in Lorelai's bed. It was comfortable and calming, and things led where they did naturally in her mind. Bringing her focus back to her magazine, she was ready to read the cover story, when she heard the familiar long tone coming from the other side of the room.

The intercom was beeping, and since Paris was all alone, all the signals were sent to the media room for her to know.

"Hello?" A nervous and scratchy female voice sounded across the room as Paris leapt to attention, running slowly to hit the white button. Her blue socks mismatched the jersey, an intentional move to show she could just 'throw something on'. Her hair bounced and eyes focused on the speaker as she became excited with the familiar voice.

Don't come on too strong, she told herself. Just answer and let her in. She cleared her throat, and then opened up the channel of communication.

"Lorelai?" She came off self-assured and calm.

"The one and only. Uh, I hope you didn't mind if I parked in the front drive, I didn't know where else to. If you want me to move, I can."

"No need, the staff doesn't return until Sunday. I'll be right down."

"All right." Opening the door from the media room, Paris walked down the corridors of the mansion, feeling so nervous, yet calm about how things were going. She was almost alone beyond gate guards who were told she had a guest they were not to say one word about, and had almost nothing stopping her except for her self control. She's here. She held her promise! Internally she was very pleased that Lorelai hadn't stood her up and making the final turn into the front foyer prepared her for the rest of the night, be it in a friendly or romantic manner.

Paris didn't have a moment of hesitation or pause as she opened the door to greet Lorelai, knowing one pause would set a negative tone for the night. She smiled as she pulled the door open, trying to exude warmth from second one.

"Hey, Paris," Lorelai said right away, waving at her. "So, here I am."

"Here you are," Paris responded, taking in the tall woman in front of her. "Hello."

"You have no idea how hard it was to convince Rory to go off by herself. Checklists and shopping lists, oh my! I promised her I'd be fine with whatever she bought us." She walked in the front hall, ushered in by Paris as she shut the door behind her, locking it immediately. "I mean she's had my sizes for what, four years? They aren't about to change in the time I'm over here, and I tried to convince her of that."

"You're sure she's ready to go off to Harvard?" Paris asked wryly.

"Sometimes I have no idea." Lorelai shook her head as she let herself look the young woman over, trying to hold back her feelings for the girl. "I had to promise not to interfere with her and Jess before we leave, so I guess it was sort of a fair tradeoff." The woman silently scoffed, and Paris quickly caught it as she shut the door and activated the alarm system.

"Fair would be giving you space from having spread yourself thin all week, along with the finest Swiss chocolates, laying in bed for hours, and a marathon of one of those 80's shows you enjoy so much." Paris shook her head. "I think. You do like shows from that decade, right? Since it was when you were a teenager and all." She laughed nervously, while scolding herself silently for already acting like a dork.

"Still a charter member of the Ricky Schroeder fan club," Lorelai replied, smiling at her. "I can live with just one free night to relax though. I'd have no idea what I'd do or what to buy in that outdoors store, so she should do just fine."

"You did give her a spending limit, right?" Paris asked waringly.

The innkeeper gasped and threw back her head dramatically. "Wait, I wasn't supposed to tell her to keep using the card until 'declined' lit up on the card swiper?"

"Now you know how my mother gets into trouble. I swear I don't get my self-control from her."

Lorelai felt comfortable and at ease, unlike the nervousness she had making up her excuse in order to sneak away from her daughter. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Par. I like that about you, you're rational and composed all the time."

"I guess I can take that as a compliment." Paris scooted her socked foot against the hardwood. "But there have been times I haven't felt either way lately." She brought her eyes up to scan the taller woman, and what she was wearing for the first time. "This afternoon, for instance. Not composed."

"I was frazzled," Lorelai responded back. "I still am a bit."

"Are you hungry?" Paris's voice husked deeper than usual from that question, taking in the innkeeper's subtle curves in the glove-like dark blue jeans Lorelai wore, matched up with a tight lilac-colored t-shirt that just gave off a subtle hint of the skin along Lorelai's belly. She licked within her mouth, and her cheeks reddened as she felt her hormones rushing to pull at her brain. "I...I have pizza upstairs in the media room. The works, right?"

"You didn't have to do that," Lorelai said, feeling overwhelmed by the hospitality of the young woman. "Paris, I would have been fine without. I know you can't consume dairy, so you must feel left out."

Paris shrugged and smiled at her. "I had a salad, and it sufficed plenty for me. I just wanted to be nice."

"Well it's very nice of you to do, thank you." Their eyes met together at that moment, and the couple felt shy despite the atmosphere that they created for themselves in the week before exams. "I’m...I'm..." Lorelai's cheeks warmed as she watched her young lover blossom in front of her eyes. The stiff and regal girl in the uniform or the Dress of Doom wasn't in front of her. Instead, Paris's hair was loose and carefree, no embellishment needed or stained mascara, nor was her face reddened from the everyday stress of preparatory school. The girl seemed comfortable in front of her, at ease with herself and her role in the world in the future. No more dead weight from exam worries, boy trouble or the stresses of having a best friend who didn't want to have that title.

I have to stop this, Lorelai nagged at herself. Two minutes in and I want her again? Uggh, I need time to ease in. She felt guilty as the conversations of the week before came back, through texting and voicemails. Paris felt the same way, irritated that she wanted to push off her entire plan so quickly in order to have the woman in front of her back.

"I...I need to use the bathroom," Lorelai lied. "I just need to..." She was drawing closer to Paris, her hand moving close to clasp within the girl's. "I think I screwed up my blush, I think I..."

Paris stopped her train of thought by finishing the clasp, grasping on loosely to the woman, and letting her want for Lorelai come out of hiding. "Your blush is fine, Ms. Gilmore."

"No it isn't, it's off--"

"It's beautiful." They were moving towards the staircase. "I invited you here because I needed to talk to someone, and I feel like I can trust you to hear about it. I feel comfortable with you, so please, stop thinking that this is such an odd situation to be in. You're here, and I'm here, and there's no pretext as to why."

"So, you're not looking for excuses." Paris shook her head in the negative. "I'm just...it's been a long week, and I want it to end."

"Me too," the blonde responded. "We can end it together then." She then smiled as she perched a foot on the first step. "I'm glad that you decided to come here, Lor. I honestly had a fear that you wouldn't, or that you'd see me as coming on a bit strong."

The taller woman let her lips form into a grin as she let herself take in the girl, her eyes raking across Paris's short form. She felt her attraction for her returning fully again, dormant in the flurry of activity but suddenly back out of hiding. She brushed the bottom of Paris's right palm with her fingers, and let her fingers slide up the arm as she bent down to face her eye to eye.

"I took a shower when I got home, Par." She then softly pecked the young woman's lips, letting her hot breath drift across Paris's deeply tanned skin. "And there was not one thought of not coming here." Another kiss as Paris breathed in deeply, feeling her stimuli overwhelmed. "We have to talk, right?"

"Talk..." Paris's mind felt empty for a moment, until she could get her thoughts back on track. "Right, talk, yes." She began to slowly climb the steps with Lorelai following her. "We have plenty to chat about. To catch up."

"We do," Lorelai said. "And I am a bit hungry."

"You're always a bit hungry," Paris joked. "I would have been chagrined if you weren't."

"I guess that's what you get for letting pregnancy hormones kick in at 16." The two laughing women headed to the media room, trying their best to behave, while knowing that the chemistry between them was much more volatile and uncertain this night than it had been previously.

It was going to be a long evening, for sure.


"So really, this guy trying to build a gas station actually offered you $150,000 after the auction to sell the property?" Paris scoffed. "After he lost the auction fair and square?"

"He said 'Baby, you could put a down payment on a Sleep Inn franchise with that.' He actually called me baby! In front of all those people at the auction! I couldn't believe him, I mean he couldn't see that I was serious about purchasing the damned building?" Lorelai growled as she recalled the aftermath of the auction and the grumbling that she won the bidding, relaying all the dirty details. "Mind you this was a guy who bumped the bidding from 25 to 30 for no damned reason at all except to piss off someone looking to donate it to the historical society. I wouldn't mind being outbid by him, but the Gasshole, we fought tooth and nail!"

"I still can't believe he sucked so much of your bidding reserve on piddly little bids though." Paris had her legs draped across Lorelai's lap, the intensity of the story building her anger. "What the fuck is he thinking, suggesting you throw your money into some budget chain? The turnover in those hotels is through the roof, you really can't trust your employees, and theft? Everything has to be hammered down, all the way to the bed! You would die running a hotel like that."

"I know! He tried psyching me out by telling me about Hartford hotel failures over the years between bids, like I was bound to fail."

"You won't, I know that," Paris argued. "His type of station has no appeal in your town. Why would they want to build a station with twelve pumps? Or to piss off Gypsy by taking her customers away? You know she'd violate minimum markup to stay in business and find it worth it to do so, because people like her. She fixes cars, does a damned good job and is an honest woman. Exxon certainly doesn't care about customer loyalty except when it comes to cigarettes, beer, and high gas prices."

"He'll probably build it out on the highway anyways, but I guess he wanted to try for a near-downtown location. Just to rub it in."

"Or ruin the water supply," Paris off-handed.

"He wouldn't have gotten it built anyways; it would've had too much light pollution. The high school still has to play football on Saturday afternoons because Taylor won't allow them to put in lights."

"See, your town, despite how they come off sometimes, still has some sanity." Lorelai laughed as Paris settled her head against the cushions. "I find it so ironic that you got to 61 and he stopped bidding because everyone was booing him. The innkeeper was being denied her inn and everyone else stopped bidding, and finally the yutz gets the fucking point and thinks 'I better stop bidding now'."

"And yet, $150,000 offer. Which I didn't consider for one second because I now own the inn of my dreams."

"Hopefully it is," Paris said, smiling at the woman. "You're going to do well, I know it. It'll be rough building it up, but it's always that way for any business."

"I just hope that I'm in the right place at the right time," Lorelai mused. "I've spent so much time saving for this and getting the loan, and I don't want to lose it. The whole town is counting on me to do this right--"

Paris interrupted. "And you will." She stared at the woman, taking in the worry lines and doubts that were floating across her face. "You really can't predict how things will shake out, but I'm sure everything will come around. You just have to have that faith in yourself to do so."

"I do, really. I don't want to regret this though." After a little more conversation about the Inn and everything around it, the two women felt the conversation level beginning to move away from the awkwardness and back towards their comfort zones, both of them really getting into it. Paris of course tried to push the woman on trying to build the rooms with a period atmosphere mixed in with the new, and showed zeal describing how a few rooms in the mansion during a renovation a few years earlier had been done with salvaged materials. "You can get great deals through salvage outfits," she told Lorelai, describing how her father's den had went from 60's mod to a classic room from the teens with all the modern conveniences. They were warm to each other, finding their common ground, and although their romantic tension was still thick, it wasn't overwhelming anything.

Slowly, Lorelai's purchase had become exhausted, and finally, the blue-eyed beauty was able to find a broach to what brought her here in the first place. As Paris resettled herself and swiped some garlic bread from a pizza box, she found Lorelai setting her hand on her knee and looking towards her.

"So you said that you had something to tell me?" Smiling, Lorelai directed a comforting glance at the Jewish girl.

Caught mid-bite, she forgot her instilled manners temporarily. "Yeth, I zoo."

"So it's true, you're going into competitive eating," Lorelai cracked. "I should've known you were girding to take on Sonya Thomas in the Sheboygan brat-eating contest." Chewing and swallowing, Paris laughed, shaking her head.

"I'd have a little problem with that, being Jewish and all. Immediate forfeit right away."

"Crap, you're right. See what happens when I make a quip without thinking? It gets me into trouble." She sunk back into the couch, feeling incredibly stupid for missing the whole kosher thing. "You don't think any less of me, I hope?"

"Nah, but I might have to play you the VHS of my bat mitzvah Torah reading because of that." She put her hand on Lorelai's thigh, feeling so light and the nerves of earlier totally calmed. "But yeah, there was a good reason to invite you here beyond getting to hear about the fact you now have a big old building to baby."

"And what a building it is. If those walls could talk..." Lorelai sighed wistfully at her walkthroughs of the building. "Legend has it Al Capone stayed a night there and supervised some bathtub distilling."

"You have so many things you could highlight. Didn't I hear something about how the older version of that Inn was an Underground Railroad stop?"

"That it was." Lorelai brought her attention towards the blonde. "But come on, no more stalling. Tell me, learned woman, what you dragged me out here for."

"Alright, alright." Paris was so excited about her news that her stomach had that dizzy feeling. "So you know that last week I finally brought my choices down to either Cornell or Yale."

"Right. You told me you were done with Brown because Providence's rents were crazy high?"

"Gentrification is a bitch. Ugh." She went on. "But yes, so I'm double-majoring, just to get an idea of whether to go into medicine like I want to, or law, which I learned to love trying to make sure Daddy's lawyers did the divorce right." She explained the pros and cons of each school, saying she enjoyed Cornell for the quiet campus and connections to New York, but the 'school of world leaders' and feel of Yale's urban campus also had an appeal. She raised her hands in the fashion of a balance scale as she went over her various conversations with officials in Ithaca and New Haven, and really enjoyed hearing all of their presentations, including promises of named items on campus if her father just happened to drop a few more dollars towards the school of her choice. Lorelai, one to have usually mock college talk (which she did with her daughter often), was in awe hearing the young woman describe everything about both schools that she liked and how her education would be wonderful in the hands of either school.

"So I'm thinking it over at the beginning of this week, and I don't know where to go yet. I'm still completely confused and really, beyond the usual frat or sorority nonsense, I can't seem to find any kind of fatal flaw in where to go. I am completely undecided. I mean, I was truly at the point of flipping a coin in order to make my choice, but really, that is ridiculous and who knows what would happen if it landed on the edge instead of a face, even if it only happens once in a million times, but I can't take that chance. So it comes down to looking over the records of other Chiltonians to see what they prefer. It's even between Cornell and Yale, so I'm pretty much the tiebreaker between them. And I've got recruiters calling from New York and New Haven, and ugggh...I don't know." She watched Lorelai trying to keep up the conversation. "I...I'm not losing you, am I, Lor?"

The brunette was quick with her response. "No, of course not. Completely following this, I find it kind of...cute." She smiled at the girl, so honest with her feelings, which caused Paris to blush.

"This is not cute. Choosing a college is a serious decision which affects the rest of your life."

"So, how did you choose?"

"There was only one way that I could seem to find happiness with my choice," she said, feeling so apprehensive. "But I need you to promise, you won't laugh at me."

"Why not?"

"Because, you're going to find how I did so, incredibly dorky."

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you use that word." She felt such a pull towards the girl, trying to hold back because of the seriousness of the subject. "So how did you choose?"

"Not until you promise."


"You mock me once, I will clam up for the rest of the night and make you find out on your own." She pouted seriously in front of Lorelai, even going so far as to cross her arms over her chest.

"Fine, Paris. I swear to you right now that I will not make fun of how you decided where you're going to spend the next four years of your life." She felt incredibly odd for promising the girl not to mock her. "Now, can you let me in on your decision?"

"I think that your promise is true." She took a deep breath, preparing to go off on another of her long and breathless tangents. "So I get home Monday afternoon, the last day of school, and I'm under enormous pressure that let up a little bit when your daughter beat me by thousandths of a grade point and saved me the duty of having to speak at graduation."

"So...you didn't have a speech written up already?" Lorelai smirked at the girl, while Paris rolled her eyes.

"Since the end of March. But that's not the point. My cell phone was packed with messages from the recruiters. My email wasn't doing any better and I was just so worn out from the final Latin exam that I just wanted to go to sleep and forget the world until rehearsals the night after. But I pretty much had to decide on a college by the time I got up on that stage to receive my diploma. I was getting to the point of choosing, but all of my pros and cons were on scratch paper all over the place. My backpack contained thirty pounds of junk from my locker and the Franklin, my back felt like it was going to collapse, my feet hurt, and all I wanted to do was get out of that uniform, curl up in a ball, and sleep."

That portion got Lorelai's attention. The woman's ears perked up as her imagination filled with images of the poor girl groaning under the stress of life. She thought the picture would be just enough.

But Paris had planned out every word she said in a way that would not only tell the story, but perk Lorelai up by making it more exciting for her. All through since she made the decision, she had thought of how to bring it up, and had the perfect way of doing so.

Lorelai was then surprised to see Paris eyeing her up and curling onto the couch, her voice lowering as she began to set the scene.

"It was then I realized, this would be the last time I ever took off the uniform as a Chilton student. This was it, my final time changing from school clothes to regular clothing. I looked at myself in the mirror, thinking back to the first time I wore it in ninth grade when I moved to the Academy from Country Day. Back then, I was so ill at ease with myself. My hips were too big, my thighs didn't look exactly flattering in the skirt, and the blouse..." She huffed loudly. "Yeah, it never flattered me back then."

She went on to explain further about how she found herself much more attractive four years later, more adult and mature, everything brought out and her body looking wonderful in her eyes. How after so many years she felt so independent for not having gone with any kind of tuck, plastic surgery, or extreme makeup regimen.

"I took off the uniform slowly, and then on my desk chair, I had two sweatshirts laid out across it, both sent that day and left by the housekeeper as one final lure by each of the schools. Very beautifully made, with embroidered letters and multi-colored logos, these had to be the ones that cost more than $100. One in the self-named color of the Eli, while the other was in the unique Cornell color of carnelian." Her face lit up as she described her reaction. "I just stood there in the room looking at them, and thinking to myself how if only I hadn't blown my Harvard interview, I wouldn't be there. But it happened, and I had to choose. I had to decide. A quiet life in central New York State, or the atmosphere and comfort of that old city."

She cuddled up to Lorelai, laying on top of her as the woman felt herself becoming recharged at how intimate Paris was being with her. Her eyes took in the girl, looking so beautiful now that all the stress of school had been lifted from her, turning her into a normal and calm girl hardly concerned with her GPA. "So I tried them both on, the Cornell shirt first. I really liked it; it was comfy and roomy enough, and I did feel nice. But I don't know, it just wasn't perfectly comfortable. Their logo is kind of plain and simplistic, their motto is a long quote in English from the school's founder, and as I wore it, I just kept thinking about how alone I'd be in Ithaca. It is a beautiful town, very vibrant social scene, close to Syracuse and Rochester. But I looked at myself, in just that sweatshirt, and in my mind, I tried to picture myself at Cornell." She felt Lorelai's steady breathing, her clear blue eyes concentrated on her as she told the tale.

"Then, I took it off. I draped it on my bed and took the Yale shirt in my hands. I put it on slowly, and as I straightened it across my shoulders, I looked at myself. At the logo, not only in Latin, but Hebrew, a language I'd love to learn fully one day, a script I find so beautiful. That dark color across my torso, the soft feel of the fabric, how it seemed to be so natural to enjoy being in a shirt from a college in my home state. I stood there, looking myself over in the mirror, thinking things over, all my decisions, my pro-con lists, all that fretting I did since I got the thin sheet from Harvard. That pain...it hasn't...gone away." She felt a bit emotional about the snubbing by her family's college, that she would never be good enough for them. "I don't know what I did to make them see me the wrong way, but they were so...cold."

"Paris..." Lorelai stretched herself across Paris, her hands resting on her hips. "My heart broke for you that night. Honest to God, they were cruel to turn you down like that. Twelve years of hard work, and for what, to be thrown into chaos because you got emotional during an interview?" Her quiet voice soothed the girl's self-loathing. "I enjoy you having that passion, those tangents. If they thought you were just too off kilter to be a Harvard student, what the hell is wrong with them?"

The blonde woman was surprised by Lorelai's sharing of her own feelings for them. "You really think you should be saying that about your daughter's school?"

"I think I should. These schools are cruel, and it shows me that even if you spend hours studying, it means nothing unless you turn on the charm during an interview." Lorelai wasn't afraid to be candid about it. "You did it straight, by challenging the interviewer and turning the tables on her to prove that you were making the right choice. Rory was just complacent and complimentary. She even flirted with her interviewer a little bit."

"You're sure?" Paris was in shock.

"She admitted it." Lorelai frowned. "It was a strategy she developed in a mock session with Jess. It took him by surprise, so she decided to do a few pulls on her skirt and leg-crossings here and there, and a few hollow compliments. It worked, and I'm not proud of her for that."

"I know you would've told her never to do that," Paris shared. "It's like ever since she got her acceptance, she's been a bit...how do I put this without being insulting to her?"

"Cocky is what you're looking to say. Believe me, I hope when she gets there she realizes pretty quickly that her innocence and charm won't get her by. She needs grit and determination, like you have." She soothed the blonde girl in her arms, trying to show how much Paris was getting to her. "The flirting works, for a while. I did it when I got my MBA during a few classes before my most important instructor told me tersely that I was there to learn, not treat the U of H like a singles bar. So I cooled it down, became serious, and--"

"He can be proud of you now," Paris finished. "You have an inn you will run because you learned from him the right way."

"Exactly. His management lessons were something I used at the Independence, and they were perfect. I can't forget Mr. Mulhaney very easily, because without him, I didn't get the guts to even go after an inn of my own." She was wistful, remembering the middle-aged man as the guidepoint that got her career fully on track.

Paris watched the woman above her, stunned in place as her thumbs circled her waist. She felt herself heating up, and had to get back on track.

"I'm glad that he did," she acknowledged. "So I was saying, about the sweatshirts?"

"Oh yeah, you were." Lorelai grimaced. "Sorry, I find a point, I run away with it."

"Good point though."

"I thought so," Lorelai husked.

"So, sweatshirts." Paris continued the story. "Yale was comfy. I really enjoyed wearing it. But I just didn't feel right with myself because I was choosing between two great schools with two great plans for me. I would be set for life at either; Yale's got killer law and med schools, but Cornell has Weill-Cornell in Manhattan. That's like where all the best come from in medicine because it's in the largest city in the nation. But I kept thinking to myself, do I really see myself at Cornell? Can I visualize it in my mind and think about my years there as positive? Ithaca, a beautiful town. New Haven, a little gritty, but it's like an old dependable, you might knock it for a few things but it still is the heart of Connecticut." She audibly gasped, trying to make Lorelai see how the choice affected her. "But the truth is, I did love Cornell. It's great, has everything I could ever wanted. The thing is though, looking in that mirror, seeing myself in the Cornell shirt, I just felt numb. I didn't see the excitement I had whenever I got a new piece of Harvard memorabilia. It was just a shirt. Nothing more, nothing less." She brushed away hair from in front of her face. "I even closed my eyes while wearing the Yale shirt trying to think of myself ten years from now, proclaiming myself a graduate of Cornell."

"Wow, you really thought this through." Lorelai could have never thought before that point that a shirt could never hold so much significance. It had come down to just that as a deciding factor for Paris, and whether she could see herself in it, proclaiming the colors she wore as her own. "Paris..."

Her mouth was suddenly closed as Paris brushed her lips with her right index finger, sliding it along the glossed flesh. Her heated stare weighed against the older woman, her brown eyes seeming so deep and limitless. It was also the first time she noticed that like she was, Paris went without any kind of makeup that night. The small freckles upon her nose, usually blurred by a slim covering of foundation, were exposed, and Lorelai found herself becoming ever more enchanted by the intense woman she could have never pictured to haunt her dreams.

Paris's voice lowered down to a deep murmur. "Lorelai, it took me so long to decide, but I think my heart eventually came to the right decision. I agonized over it for so long, and standing in that bedroom, the uniform of my former institution at my feet in a pile and looking over myself in such a shirt, I decided to take a risk. Something I never thought I would do, could never even fathom thinking." Her hand grasped at Lorelai's side, possessively. The two women were very close together within the intimate clench, the space a chasm between their building tension.

"You looked at yourself, and what?" Lorelai asked, feeling her breath seeming to disappear. Her eyelashes fluttered, her heart pumped hard within her chest and she felt her nerves seem to relax.

"I kept my eyes open, taking a look at myself in that mirror. I had never been in that position in years, just looking into one without some routine reason. At that moment, I realized I was no longer a student in a secondary school. I had reached the top number grade, and there was no higher I could go. I had attained every damned honor I could wring out of this state, except for the one thing your daughter claimed. But that wasn't on my mind. I stood in front of that mirror, the first true moment of quiet I've had in fifteen years." Her other arm wrapped around the brunette lightly, and her eyes took on a dreamy focus. She shifted her positioning in a subtle way that didn't stir the innkeeper.

Just as Lorelai was prepared to hear the answer...

"I saw you behind me, Lorelai." She paused intentionally, letting it wash over the woman.

"M-m-me?" Lorelai stumbled.

"I saw you," Paris repeated, in a soft tone. "I felt my hormones overcharge at that exact moment, and there you were behind me in the mirror image, wrapping your arms around me. I saw you there, in a little black tank top and boyshorts, and though you could have never thought you'd play some kind of role in my decision, you did. Your voice guided me through the toughest five minutes I've in my lifetime." Paris described how she pictured the conversation, with Lorelai behind her, whispering words of encouragement, thoughts she'd had since it all came down to Cornell and Yale. About how she needed to be close to her father and that although she'd love Cornell, it was sure to be lonely and strange, a place where her family was a Thruway drive and five hours away.

"But then I was reminded by you, in your voice, as you held me close, that I need to fight for what I want." She closed her eyes, as she brought Lorelai close to her. "Behind me in that mirror, you reminded me of what has drawn you towards me. The intense drive I have, the goals I set for myself, that if I don't meet, I regard as a failure. Something that you do yourself, Lorelai, although not as intense. You are the most stubborn bitch I know, and I mean that in the most complimentary of ways."

"Well, it is kind of my nickname," Lorelai reminded her, "Tease." She smiled, and found herself enchanted by the building fire in Paris's eyes. "So you used me to argue what you felt is right."

Paris's face softened. "Not just you. Your essence. The fight that you had to crawl to the crest of the hill over eighteen years, something not every woman could fathom. You didn't do it by being cold and indifferent. The path you blazed is full of kindness and caring, of defending yourself and your daughter with every challenge thrown your way. That spirit, the way you took me as my heart was crushed and told me never to focus on what he did to me, but instead what I could do for myself, I've remembered that since I left your embrace that Sunday morning in the foyer." She settled her hands on Lorelai's rear, feeling the tension in the room building. "When I thought about what you said, that I could do better, that I could do well in this world, and you repeated it in my mind, in front of my mirror, I knew that I had found the path. Where I needed to go, what I needed to do with myself."

"And...what's that?" Lorelai felt dizzy in the embrace of the schoolgirl, her voice so precise and measured, yet with that lilt which currently had her on the edge.

Paris measured her tone carefully, ready to spring her decision on the woman. "I have a graduation party on Sunday evening; supposedly a surprise, but I know about it already since I have a secret BCC address for some fictional relative in Houston my mother never thinks of vetting on the family email list. The most stressful gathering ever, because both my maternal and fraternal relatives will be here. At ten o'clock that night, everyone will know where I'm headed in August. And right now, only the school I chose, and myself, know where I'm going."

Lorelai's heart beat faster. She felt it palpitate in her chest as she took in the exact reason that Paris had invited her here to have one last night before she had to leave for Europe. She felt everything begin to overwhelm her, the fact that she had been the spirit guiding the decision that would have Paris Gellar - '07 within one school's records for the rest of time.

She felt a little bit odd, being in that room, with the girl that she couldn't shake herself from, no matter how she tried. The pull between them was tightening, and Lorelai felt she couldn't dare be put in the position she was.

"Par..." She gasped the young woman's name. "What are you trying to say?" There was a long pause, one where Paris just stared at Lorelai, eye to eye. They were both in that small intimate space within the media room, the Weather Channel on mute and the movie long ignored as the tension between them strained.

Paris lowered herself down to lay lengthwise with the hotelier, her eyes staying focused. "Not say, ask." Her voice had a tired and relaxed hum to it.

"Ask what?"

"Did I make the right choice?" Paris asked. Lorelai thought she didn't have the answer.

"Why ask me?" Lorelai was bewildered. "I have no idea about college choice beyond the whole Money Pit concept I'm avoiding thanks to scholarships and my dad's financial aid."

"Because, I called in my acceptance a couple of hours after I was in front of my mirror. I totally pissed off the receptionist because they had to call the dean of admissions at his home, during dinner. But I had to get it out there. The moment felt right, and I knew in my heart that what I decided, it was true." She took Lorelai's wrists and forced her hands up from the belt loops of her jeans. "And since then, I've spent so many moments doubting myself. Do I really deserve it? Was that counselor at Harvard correct when she said I shouldn't bother to be Ivy League?"

"Wait." Lorelai stopped her. "She actually told you that?"

Paris nodded, feeling ashamed. "I was told that my personality was too abrasive for such a setting, and that accounted into the decision. She even told me in her own words that even if I would have been accepted she would have advised the Crimson and Lampoon to disallow me on the staffs of their papers. They were afraid--"

"Stop, right there!" Lorelai, firm in her tone, shook her head. "That bitch had absolutely no business getting so personal with your decisions. How dare she call you abrasive!"

"But I am," Paris stated matter-of-factly. "Rory heard my interview. I heard my interview. It wasn't pretty."

"Paris." Lorelai felt herself in such an honest moment. "Maybe...you're going to hate me for saying this, but I have to." She held her close, as the blonde lay against her shoulder, looking up. "Let's use Tristan as an example. From what little I heard from Rory, he was your dream guy before he got into trouble, right?"

"Yeah." She wasn't sure what she was leading into.

"And you imagined yourself together with him forever for so many years. But then, he came back last year and he fell into a crowd of idiots and became an asshole. I watched one of the rehearsals and I could pretty much see that you couldn't stand him."

"You're right." Paris felt embarrassed by him. "I hated what he became. I couldn't stand him anymore, and when I heard he got into trouble, I felt like good riddance to him. All this love for him...it just disappeared. I didn't want anything to do with him."

"So, compare that to Harvard." Lorelai smiled down, moving a hand up to stroke Paris's luminescent hair. "Think about how long and passionate your want to be there was. It was more intense than anything you've ever experienced. Even Tristan. You poured your heart and soul into getting into that college, sacrificed so many things, too many friends, maybe even possible lovers, to be at that college." She felt so surprisingly passionate about describing things to the girl, even with their difference in intelligence that wasn't visible at all in anything but a test setting. "I mean, compare me. I've poured everything I've had in being able to have a normal life without depending on my parents, and I've pretty much done it. Somehow, I got to this point where I'm buying my own inn.

"But then I see you, this wonderfully intelligent young woman who has done all you can to be an assertive and passionate being looking for only one goal; Harvard. So you look forward to it, slave through grade after grade, taking all the insults and all the challengers, doing everything legally possible to tell them 'I want in this school, and don't you dare stop me.'" She took a deep breath, feeling dizzy from the monologue she was directing towards Paris. Lorelai never felt winded talking usually, but feeling the girl within her arms, she felt very protective of her.

"When I heard you weren't going to Harvard, I was just in shock. I was appalled at them for doing that to you. I thought, how could they do that? How could they be so cruel to in some thinly worded form letter, crush your dream, break your heart, and turn you from a proud young woman, into that sad, depressed and mopey mess who knew she did everything she could, and it wasn't good enough? That it was all futile in the end?"

Paris looked into Lorelai's eyes, and she couldn't believe how strong she was to her in that moment. With the woman's fingers running through her hair and the indignation she heard in the Chilton mother's voice, she was just in awe at how the woman was defending her honor. She never felt like fighting Harvard in any way beyond sending strongly-worded letters to anyone who considered hiring her admissions coach, but she had felt so alone in the world after the rejection.

She didn't think it was possible to fall for the woman further, but what Lorelai would tell her next was something that would rightfully make her blood boil.

"You don't know this, and if this ever gets back to Rory, she will hate me. But I thought she never did enough after your rejection to comfort you."

"Ms. Gilmore, it's fine," she argued. "She got in. She should be happy. You should be happy for her."

"Don't you understand, though? You should have gone in together, as friends. Instead, she gets the acceptance, all the compliments from the town and my parents, and then she works Jess into Boston College. I should be happy and proud of her. And I am. But only to a point, because she is pushing you off to the side just because you couldn't get in. She spent all of...what was it, how long was she there to give you homework?"

"Ten minutes."

"And then she also made fun of your nose piercing attempt." Lorelai shook her head. "Talk about kicking you in the O's when you're already down. I sternly told her never to do that again. You were hurt and trying to find yourself is nothing to joke about." Below her, Paris began to tear up, feeling overwhelmed.

"I...I thought it would be...interesting."

"Hey." Lorelai smiled at her, caressing her cheek. "All that happened was that you picked a sketchy place to get it at. If you want to, I know a clean place in Chester you can go and get it done. Sookie got some done there and they never got infected."

"I just reacted. I needed an outlet," she admitted. "I don't think I'd look good with a piercing anyways."

"Maybe you will." She brought the girl up so they could be face to face. "The point of what I'm saying is, you deserved none of this. Rory should've supported you better, and no one should ever celebrate someone else's rejection from a school." She softly kissed Paris, and firmly stated what she thought of her in that moment. "But I saw you bounce back from the rejection. You didn't let it get you down, and you came back stronger than ever. That's gotta count for something here, hon. And whatever college you chose, they're going to be pleased as punch to see someone who's ready to go right out of the gate and from how you think, it looks like you're devoted to them, and not just as a safety school."

"Like a bulldog?" Paris wondered, smiling and finding her resolve anew.

"Yes, exactly like that. You're kind of like one when you get angry."

"I know. I am exactly like a bulldog." She winked at Lorelai, trying to hint at something. "You know, like Handsome Dan." She wrapped her arms around Lorelai at her waist, feeling up her slim form and enjoying the banter they were having.

"Handsome Dan? OK, I know my 70's bands, but I think that you mean England Dan and John Ford Coley. I never heard of that other guy."

Paris felt like slapping her forehead. "You have no idea who Handsome Dan is?"

"Was he the drummer KC and the Sunshine Band?" Lorelai thought she was absolutely correct, but seeing the girl above her groan, she felt a bit dumb.

"Here I am, with a woman who can pretty much name every Billboard single and #1 movie of the last six decades, along with lyrics and dialogue for many of them, and you take the wind out of my sails by not following my cue?" Paris laughed as she spoke. She couldn't believe she had just put a big one over Lorelai Gilmore, the queen of all pop culture and probable future Trivial Pursuit world champion. "Come on, do I have to play the freakin' Pyramid with you, Lor?"

"Things that I have no idea about?" That earned the brunette a light punch in the elbow. "Oww! Come on, I'm trying to humor you here."

OK, I'm not going to get this very easily. Might as well drop the hint here. Paris decided to be brash about what she was leading into. "Bulldog? Handsome Dan? The current color of my bra? They all connect somehow to what I'm trying to tell you."

"Uh, give me more?" She just couldn't get the answer...

But then she stopped upon hearing the young woman's third clue.

"Wait, bra?" Lorelai felt herself flushing from the mere mention of anything within a small distance of Paris's ampleness. "Color?" She narrowed her eyes. "Just what are you trying to do to me?"

She pushed herself up from the woman, keeping a nice toothy smile upon her face as she began to tease the innkeeper for her ineptness on the subject...in more ways than one.

Paris quirked her eyebrows up and dared the woman to go further.

"You'll find out if you take off my shirt." Her smoky gaze challenged the woman who was usually the one to dominate in every relationship she had.

Lorelai's breathing deepened as she found her hands moving up to the hem of the red jersey, while she attempted to show that she wasn't weakened by the challenge. She smiled at the girl, her unsteady thumbs raking the younger woman's soft stomach.

"Aren't we kind of gutsy?" Lorelai observed. The material of the jersey bunched in the space between the fingers. "You do know that currently my self control is less than a hair trigger?"

"Know?" Paris laughed softly. "Every time you glanced my way at graduation, you were undressing me with your eyes."

"Really?" Lorelai shook her head. "How could you think that? I couldn't really give you anything but friendly looks."

"Your eyes are always so intense though." Lorelai began to push the garment up. "I felt the same about you in that dress you wore to the ceremony." She took the reclined Lorelai at her waist. "I felt so hot having to know you were without a bra."

"It wouldn't go with the dress," the woman explained, salivating as she pushed the jersey further. "I tried to, but it dug into my sides. Hurt like hell."

"I bet." The banter began to quicken. "I have no excuse for not wearing underwear beneath my dress beyond some latent desire to commit a last second uniform code violation and blacken my record of innocence at Chilton."

"Really, you were bare?" Lorelai felt tight.

"What would the Headmaster do, hold my diploma?" Fingernails drifted up her side. "No one dared me at all, I did it myself, and I don't regret it."

"I'm rubbing off on you, eh?" The shirt was above her midriff.

"I hope you do." Paris positioned herself into a blatant straddle. "How much have you wanted me, Lor?"

"I ask you the same question."

"You first, as you're older."

"You're wiser."

"You're more adventurous."

"You're more amorous."

"Really?" Paris was stunned, but very wound up. "So you get off on my tongue?"

"Not yet, young lady." Lorelai spider walked her fingers up Paris's sides, watching her squirm. "Soon, I will." She suddenly stopped, watching the girl as her attention drifted to Lorelai's shirt riding up and shifting in all directions, exposing the woman's belly to her, and shifting a pink strap of her bra far to the other side. The girl's pupils shifted back and forth, her hormones taking a hard shift as she took in her lover below her, getting her all hot and bothered. Oh God, Paris thought to herself. Thank you for her. How did I ever get so lucky to be able to make love to her? She felt conflicted about continuing the banter fight, but as she felt herself tighten in place above the woman, she began to clench at just the barest thought of exposed skin.

While she thought about it, she had involuntarily lifted her arms off and allowed Lorelai to finish taking off the shirt. The woman tossed it to the side carelessly, and as Paris came to, she finally was able to live out the moment she was waiting all afternoon to live out.

Static ruffled her hair, taking it out of place as she looked down at the woman, biting her lip as she took in the beautiful scene above her of the former schoolgirl coming into own as an adult, looking every bit the part, down to the very flattering bra that was framing her plentiful décolletage in a way that made every other man Lorelai ever slept with pale in comparison.

But most importantly, was the color. Something that took at least five stops the day before to find in any store with a certain secret named after an 1800's Queen of England. She would not take one shade lighter, nor darker, and looking at the vacantly stuck stare of the innkeeper, Paris knew for the first time she had played the woman perfectly.

She would not leave her for hours more, that was a given.

"So," Paris whispered in her formal tone, "does it fit me?"

Lorelai took a pause to respond. "The bra? Oh God, yes."

"And the color?" she wondered. Lorelai licked her lips.

"Fuck, yeah." She felt too honest to hold back her true emotions. "It's perfect. You look so perfect in it. Better than Harvard crimson by miles."

"So what do you think, Lor?" She pushed herself down, blatantly enjoying the bounce the garment gave to her breasts. "Am I gonna make Chilton proud?"

"You're making me proud," she admitted, her eyes not leaving the girl. "I can see why you went with it. The color fits you."

"What is your guess then? You still need to answer the question." Her hands were within Lorelai's shirt, light flits along the side up to her bra.

"You fucked yourself in that sweatshirt after I gave you all the fuel you needed to choose." She closed her eyes. "I was behind you, touching, kissing, nipping. My hand in your panties..."

"Yes..." Paris felt so connected. "So tight that evening. I felt so wrong, so blatant. Touching myself, thinking about you..."

"One finger?"

"Then two." The shirt was slid up as Lorelai kicked off her socks, listening to the woman go on. "Such a hard clit to tease. Two weeks without you, too long. I don't know how we'll survive summer."

"We have lots to look forward to now, Par." Her hands rested now on Paris's back. "You didn't just choose for me though, right?"

"You were a low reason, but one I definitely considered," she admitted. "All those texts, those voice messages late, late at night. Your voice, making me so wet..."

"So much thanks I have an AC adapter," Lorelai shared. "And a daughter out like a light by nine o'clock."

"My poor showerhead. It hasn't seen so much use in years." She felt so turned on. "How can two times turn into such a hot thing like this?"

"We're both combustible," Lorelai said. "After so many years and your failures, you know that you're fucking hot, Par."

Paris pulled off the shirt the rest of the way, throwing it to the top of the couch, where it immediately slid back between it. "I expected you in a light blue."

"I thought you'd wear plain white."

"Trust me, white is over for me. From here on out, it's all Yale blue for me." Paris voiced out her choice for the first time. "I love saying it; Yale. Yale. It feels natural, just one hard syllable to say where I'm going. No pretensions, no fancy ways of saying it. It's just bare, out there..."

"Beautiful, rebellious, hot-tempered to others." Paris began to push against the woman. "Something unexpected that no one would ever think possible. Like this."

"Like this." Paris smiled. "I hated you at first."

"Hated you more."

"Never in a million years."

"A bazillion."

"But one hot day, I was in need, and I was rescued."

"Someone so startling I could have never thought it possible."

"I'm in Yale."

"I'm with you." The women were in an intensely intimate moment, one that they never thought would come. If February 28 had never come, where would they have been? What would have happened? Who would they have been with?

None of those thoughts were on their mind at all as they took each other into close contact since that morning in Stars Hollow. Their hearts beating together, Paris and Lorelai began to enjoy the fact there was a possible future ahead of them.

"I want you," Lorelai said with all she could muster, and the two women began to kiss hard, Lorelai feeling free to nip at the girl's lip and assert how much she had thought about the blonde since their last time together. Paris let herself fall into the moment, glad to set the foundation and allow Lorelai to build them up further. The future Eli was receptive of the woman's attention, the feel of her beautiful hands along her sides, and her bra heaving with each new movement. Her own hands wandered Lorelai indiscriminately as she took in her lover's perfect curves, the shape of her back, her sensitive scalp, along with her slim waist. She memorized the woman inch by inch as they made out, and she let her own mouth wander further away from Lorelai's mouth, towards her nose, her cheeks, her ears. They both felt so much tension as they both made up skipping past second base right away.

They both kept their pants on, unwilling to go further, knowing they were only in the first hour of what they thought would be a four hour night. Slowly Lorelai asserted the topping position as she did things she couldn't have gotten away with two days before, scratching her nails softly down Paris's back in letter and curved patterns. Ever the eternal teenager Lorelai was surprised at how much she wanted to do and teach with Paris, an attentive student within their relationship.  Groping, touching, teasing, she guided the young woman through what had been rushed through before, slowly asserting that Paris had no reason to feel guilty about her feelings at all.

I don't want this to leave my mind, she thought as her knee fell between Paris's legs, taking a look at the girl a half-hour later, the both of them heated, dampened and red, all talked and worn out. Paris's jeans were pushed down slightly to her waist, exposing the band of the matching panties, as her breasts were on a fuller display than intended, the straps of the bra at each of her elbows, the fabric barely covering her pebbled nipples. Truly she was overheated, her raw scent filling Lorelai's nose as their physical activity stunted the Jewish girl's anti-perspirant. She didn't care though, loving the feel of her hair so soaked and damp from making out. Doing something she wished to do since she first watched Louise and a guy go at it in ninth grade. The affection between them was natural and organic, and neither of them felt as if what they were doing wasn't true. They continued to talk and share things throughout, their voices strained with the tension that they were feeling together.

It took force to break them apart, slowly, the both of them knowing that this would be the last night in a long time that they could be this close to each other. But Lorelai knew that at the end of the night, she wanted to leave the Manor having taken all of the possibilities of the night and making them true. She pulled away from the girl, her lips swollen and damp, and her beautiful brown eyes sleepy and contented from the attention given to her by the older woman.

"Hey." Lorelai smiled down at the girl, brushing back her hair.

"Hi." Paris was warm beneath her, her soft frame totally relaxed. "If you would have told me at the beginning of last month we'd be here doing this, I might've gone off on you."

The brunette smirked, lying on the large cushions of the custom couch, which easily fit both of them lying down. "I would've questioned my own sanity."

"You are sort of insane, but in a good way." The girl's soft voice soothed the woman, and she couldn't think of anything else. "So, yeah, Yale. I'm in it." She wanted to confirm it was out there. "I am in Yale."

"You're in Yale," Lorelai repeated. "It does fit you, somehow."

"I always hated Yale," Paris explained. "It was like an insult to the Gellar family to say that you respected them for anything. Even if their medical school had a discovery, there would be someone to say that Cambridge could do it much better."

"So this was much more complicated than what shirt you want to wear?"

"Yeah," Paris sighed as she explained how fervent Harvard crimson ran through the family. "The first thing my father said to me after I showed him the letter was that the rejection was just a technicality, they must've mixed up my name. Or else they wanted me to squirm for a bit before sending the acceptance and that they were just kidding."

"So you still went out to the mailbox everyday and hoped they'd have an acceptance for you?"

"Is that stupid?" Lorelai shook her head. "Because I thought it was. I looked like an idiot out at the gate in my pajamas waiting for the mailman to come by. Those guards? They don't talk. So I talked to myself and probably looked like some kind of psycho. I think them and the mailman were relieved when I went back to school."

"How many days did you do this?"

"Three. Then bargaining time was over, and hello ladies of The View, depression, fifteen hours of sleep a day, and just a smidge of intoxication via some Nanny-bought white zinfandel. I was actually drunk on two glasses when Rory came by, but I hid the bottle and glass beneath my bedskirt."

"I would be too. But I'm glad you didn't take it to the scary old heiress isolation level."

She looked at the woman, seeing that she wasn't making fun of her at all, and was so relieved. "You make me sound normal, Lor. That week was far from my finest."

"What are you supposed to do after you use a national platform to call out my daughter's chastity as a mitigating factor in your rejection?" She laughed a bit. "Par, you bounced back, and you're fine now. I had my bad week when it came to the Inn. I was hoping that everything would come back and I even booked guests before the insurance declared it a total loss. I was just like you, thinking it just burned some stuff but the building was still up and solid. But the damage was too large and the place was unsafe. We just had enough time to get in the lobby and extract the records from the office, and that's when it hit me." Lorelai frowned, her hand circling on Paris's waist. "I broke down in that room. Everything that could burn, burned. We managed to get 85% of the records, but the rest were gone. It was the worst feeling in the world to know that one day, I could've had this. This would have been mine. But it didn't happen, and...by the time I left the place for the last time before the backhoes and bulldozers had their way, I was a damned mess." She tried to hold back the tears. "I worked like crazy trying to get back in, to bring it back. But it wasn't going to happen, and all I can do, is rebuild. Somewhere else."

"We both have to," Paris finished. "I never wanted to go to Yale. I hated it. But I've learned to enjoy it, if not love it. The teaching staff's pretty good, and the campus life, it's bound to be nice. Plus, I can't wait to get into the paper." They kept their eyes on each other, feeling so warm from the conversation as she ran her hands along Lorelai's back to calm her down. "Once we get back home in August, we begin the recovery. I learn to love Yale, while you deal with all the complications of renovation."

"Would you hate me if I asked you if you could provide any help?" Lorelai wondered. "Apparently you wield a pretty mean hammer."

"I know how to build a kit house," Paris reminded. "But that takes help and I'm just part of the team. An inn, kind of a bit more complicated."

"Well if I do need any help crunching the numbers, that you could do, right?"

"I'd recommend a good CPA to help you out, but I suppose if you need the math help, I can lend my expertise." She noticed Lorelai's eyes begin to close a bit, looking droopy. Her hypothesis that the woman indeed was running on caffeine fumes were confirmed with a soft yawn. Lorelai didn't want to show she was tired and tried to hide it so that Paris didn't think she was bored by any means, but it was of no use.

"Oh my God," she said in a voice quickly tiring as she saw Paris's focused stare next to her. "Trust me, hon, you are not boring me at all. I'm so sorry--"

Paris cut her off with a touch of her hand, giving her that small little smile that melted Lorelai's heart. "Hey, it's OK. You haven't been sleeping well, I understand."

"But I want to spend all the time I can with you," she said. "I...I..."

"Here's an idea," Paris broached. "How did you get out of going with Rory to REI?"

"I said I needed to go to Staples here in town and pick up some stationary and blank legal documents."

Paris felt nervous about laying it out on the line, but looking at Lorelai, she knew that she wanted to wring every moment she could out of the rest of the night. If she was rejected for the idea germinating, she wouldn't be sad. But feeling so close to her, Paris wanted Lorelai to have at least one night of peace before getting into the heavy-duty packing she had to do before Tuesday. She got up from the comfy leather couch and headed towards a chair in the corner of the media room, where a blanket laid on the back.

She felt kind of awkward in the room without a shirt on, but Lorelai's tired stare at her made her feel a bit heartened. She took the wool blanket and let Lorelai in on how she could stay overnight.

"We can't go with any kind of excuse where you have to spend money on the Jeep, so..." She tossed the blanket over the laying woman, and Lorelai took it to tuck herself in. "You're going to tell her that you tried coming back home, but you forgot to hit the headlights and was pulled over by the State Patrol just off the entrance ramp. The patrolman gave you only a warning, but strongly advised that you get yourself a hotel room for the evening." She slid beneath the cover with the woman, resting her head on the cushion from the other side of the couch. "So for all Rory knows, you are currently at the Hilton Garden hotel near the Putnam Bridge."

"But she could come pick me up," Lorelai tried to explain. "She'll never believe it."

"Not now," Paris said, as she curled against the woman. "Tomorrow morning, she could. Really, I'm surprised you got here in the first place."

"So call her in the morning?" Her voice was now a tired murmur as she let herself relax. "I'm glad I turned off my phone."

Paris turned around so that the other woman could spoon against her back. "I'm glad you came here a little tired."

"You don't have to join me, you know," Lorelai said. "What if we sleep the night away? This couch is a bit too comfortable, if you ask me."

"Really? So how much coffee did you have on the way here?"


"Your bladder will wake you up in a couple of hours or so," Paris predicted. "And I could use a little rest myself. Besides, I think we blew the movie plan by now."

"We weren't in a movie mood," Lorelai surmised. "More of a talking mood."

"I don't mind the talking. As a matter of fact, it is beyond refreshing that we can talk like we do. When I was with Jamie, I was more the conversation starter than him because he wasn't so open with his feelings."

"I guess he didn't enjoy having a girl who loves to speak her mind," Lorelai shared as she wrapped an arm around Paris, placing it on her stomach. "I enjoy talking to you, Par. I had this fear for the longest time that holding a conversation would seem hard with you. I mean, you're learned. You're like a walking encyclopedia. I don't care for long boring books or dead languages, so I just felt that I couldn't talk to you on a basic human level."

"You were scared to talk to me?" Paris shook her head. "I suppose I can be a little bit cold and distant."

"That's not it, though," She closed her eyes, taking a sniff of Paris's vanilla shampoo as her lips brushed the blonde's earlobe. "I just...I don't know. I feel like I can talk to almost anyone, but with you, it was hard to at first before that afternoon, because you never really show your emotions. You're not usually so open, and I always thought...well, I'd be too simplistic for you. And of course, I didn't know I had this hard sexual desire until then."

"Lor, we're talking now, right?"


"So what does that tell you?"

"That you can make a better second impression?"

"Exactly." Fumbling, she found the remote control for the lighting system, and turned it off so that they were enveloped by darkness. "Now let's sleep. We have a few more hours to ourselves after that."

"I can't wait," Lorelai murmured, before she laid a simple kiss on Paris's neck. "Going to sleep well."

"Both of us." The two women fell asleep fast on the couch, both enjoying that they were there, together, without anyone's interference. Lorelai was so thankful to the girl for thinking of her and hoped that when she woke up, they could do just a bit more than making out.

I don't know why I'm falling so deep for her, so fast, Lorelai thought to herself, not wanting to stir, but feeling very comfortable holding the small woman in her arms. This is so much different than my other relationships...

She paused as it came to her what exactly she was describing in her own mind. She hadn't voiced out the exact word yet out loud, but what she had with Paris definitely felt like what she thought it was. Only more organic, and natural. The innkeeper, bound to think about the schematics later, closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep, just wanting to be in the moment rather than the whole thing for now. There was plenty of time to hash out things later. For now, they were just a girl and another girl, finding themselves with a natural attraction to each other that was developing in the way Lorelai always hoped to fall in love. Not by force or through the usual template of dating, but just between themselves, no one else.

Paris looked towards the flashing television screen, closing her eyes as she flipped it to channel 3 so she could wake up to the news at 11. She felt very relaxed about everything, and was ready to make her next move already as she closed her eyes and smiled, falling asleep and enjoying the touch of Lorelai against her back and her bare stomach. She had hopes that the rest of the evening would be just as wonderful as the early portion of it.

11:15pm, Media Room

If there was one thing Lorelai was awful at, it was waking up. The many alarm clocks she went through the years with were a testament to that, either thrown against the wall, or worn out early because the buzzers petered out from not being snoozed. She enjoyed sleep so much, and though she eventually was up by 6:15, most of the time, it was because Rory had to wake her up.

But she usually slept alone. Nothing to curl up with or someone else sharing their heat with her. So she made do by herself, and enjoyed the fact that her large bed was just that, hers.

She was feeling awfully odd this evening, however. She could have sworn there was some kind of weight against her earlier in her subconscious, but later on, she seemed lighter. She couldn't understand it.

Then slowly her three coffees before seven entered her bladder, and her slumber was slowly disturbed, until she found that her eyes were slowly fluttering back open, while her body was finding it harder to stay comfortable. Before she could go back to sleep again, the irresistible stir pricked at her inside, and she was forced to wake up unless she really loved the idea of lifetime dialysis. Lorelai's hair was a bit of a mess as she tried to prop herself up on the couch, and she felt all out of it, not knowing where she was at first.

The first idea of her unfamiliarity was that she knew she began the nap on her left side. Stretching out, she was facing the back of the sofa.

"Where am I?" she asked aloud, in a strained voice. "That was so comfortable." She stretched out, and then it came to her just then that she was in Paris's media room.

And also, that she was free to stretch.

Because Paris was not in that room.

At first, she began to panic, sitting upright on the couch, and then feeling her bra dig hard against her chest. She let the straps out a bit to relax herself, and took a 270° look around the room to see if she was in it.

"Crap, where is she? Uggh, don't tell me she left without me." She was completely lost in the room, only remembering where she was based on memories from the early 80's of Herschel Gellar, a younger brother of Harold, Paris's father, throwing a party in the mansion, two years before Paris was born. It wasn't much of an event because the guy threw a lousy party, but she still remembered it. She bit on her lip, wondering where Paris was, if she had left, or God forbid, lost interest in the woman and headed to bed in her own bedroom.

But then, Lorelai looked down at the table as she heard WFSB's weatherman lead into the jet stream track. She didn't know why, but she was suddenly caught on something next to her handbag. Bending down to investigate, she picked the remote for the lights up off the table and brightened the room just enough so that she wouldn't be startled.

A small piece of paper laid next to it, read me... written in Paris's rushed, yet elegant tall script. Lorelai plucked it from the table and unfolded the note, seeing what it had to say. It was a short note, but told her all she needed to know.


I'm downstairs. Sorry for not waking you, but you seemed comfortable. I'm sure to see you at 11:30 if I'm not mistaken.


PS - Bathroom is the second door on the left on the way to the staircase.

"OK, she knows me way too well," Lorelai surmised as she threw back on her shirt and indeed felt that sting in her bladder letting her know that she really needed to use the facilities. She wondered where eventually she'd find the girl in the labyrinth that was the Manor. Still, she was thankful for the three hours of rest she did receive, and to be the one currently holding Hartford society's best kept secret made her feel as if she needed to be trusted.

Quickly she used the bathroom and washed her hands, nervous about seeing Paris for the third time that day. She had noticed looking for her bag earlier that Paris's jersey was still on the ground, but nothing else, which was odd to Lorelai since she assumed the girl couldn't leave a room without a shirt on, judging from her past habits of being introverted and afraid to think that she was beautiful beyond an average level.

"Of course, she might have just forgotten," Lorelai surmised as she headed down the grand staircase towards the front grand hall within the rotunda of the mansion. She felt as if she was time traveling back twenty years to the sterile nature of the Gilmore mansion and her time living within it. She felt like she was damaging the carpet below her feet with each step she took, and was reminded of how spare artwork decorated Emily's walls, beyond a few family pictures here and there. Sharon Gellar was not much more different, as inoffensive nature scenes in frames defined the hallway of the staircase instead of the family photos she was expecting. Lorelai held the railing tight, lingering slowly before she went to search for Paris downstairs. The light leading down was dim just enough to guide her, and she saw the clear white light of the moon cast shadows against the wooden walls and décor of the Manor. She took each step slowly, hopeful there wasn't a failing step below her.

When her right foot hit the landing, she took a look both ways, first into the living area, and then towards the kitchen area of the mansion, trying to find the girl. Looking both ways, she listened for signs of life. She could hear neither clanging from the dining room, or the blare of a television in the living room.

"Uggh," she groaned. "I think I'm totally lost." She had no idea where to go next because Paris hadn't given her a grand tour of the home just yet. Sitting on the steps, she tried to think of exactly what she meant by 'downstairs' in the letter. It could be almost anywhere, even the garden for all that she knew.

Certainly, she couldn't put it past the girl to be in the library. She got up, softly padding her socked feet on the cool polished marble flooring below her feet, buffeted occasionally by a fine rug. She tried to guide herself based on the spare directions from the party twenty years ago, but since décor changed in those years, she couldn't find her way at all.

Ten minutes later, she was beneath the staircase in a small corridor. She had covered most of the floor, unable to find Paris. She still hadn't checked the only room left that was unlocked, the pool room. Which made her wistful about the past.

The big reason she had gone to that party in her teenage years was to enjoy one of Hartford's most prized and private indoor pools. The Gellars, having made their money in medicine, of course believed in good health, and Paris's grandfather, when he was young in the 30's and jealous that FDR had a fine pool room put in the White House, decided to build his own on the site of a former Manor garden. He had hired the finest architects and minds to build the glass-roofed pool room, and ever since, Hartford society had been jealous that the Gellar family had the finest private pool in all of Connecticut.

Not that any of the current kids knew that at all. Even as younger generations of Gellars felt free to open up the pool to every party under the sun, Paris was very less than accommodating about using it to further her status. So through the 90's and into the new decade, it was just a pool for the family to use, along with occasional Daughters of the Civil War events thrown by Sharon. It was still maintained in immaculate condition, but the days of it being the sight of many of Hartford's future scions finding their loves within its warm 88° waters were gone.

Lorelai opened the glass doors leading out to the pool, breathing in deeply the scent of chlorine which hit her nose from the moment she opened the room. She still felt like an intruder despite Paris's invitation, uneasy about wandering the halls of her home despite the candor and understanding they were building with each other. Taking in the dimly lit room, she entered the main portion of the room feeling like it was 1983 all over again.

Beyond the furnishings, the addition of a flat-panel television on a wall in a corner currently turned off, and strings of amber LEDs which had replaced the old strings of Christmas-like lights, everything seemed so familiar. Nothing had changed. The pool glowed blue from the lighting beneath it, wide and perfectly deep for everything, including diving and wading. Four steps in a corner which had a distant view of the Hartford skyline to the east led up to the whirlpool tub which seated six and was likely the site of many first meetings between Hartford teenagers back in the day. All Lorelai needed was her favorite rainbow colored swimsuit, and she could remember the fun she had in that pool.

But even more perfect to her in that moment was the realization that the moon was full, casting a bright glow from the glass skylighting above her. It set a beautiful scene for the woman, and she only wished that she could swim in it this evening.

Though she had a feeling she wouldn't. There's no way, she thought to herself. Besides, I don't have a suit. Not even in the Jeep. She's a talker, not a swimmer.

"Why would she be here anyways?" Lorelai asked herself. "When I think of her, I don't think of swimming. She probably doesn't use it all that much--"

"Actually..." Lorelai found her out loud train of thought suddenly interrupted by a familiar smoky monotone. She darted her eyes towards the source of the voice, a corner of the room where the whirlpool tub hid the young woman from the other side of the room. "I'm in here taking eight laps, every morning at 6:15."

Lorelai walked towards the left side of the blue-tiled deck to get a look. "You are in here." She was in a bit of shock. "I read downstairs and thought a room, not here."

"I lost my mind for a moment while I scribbled my note to you, Ms. Gilmore," Paris responded, the green chaise lounge she lay on squeaking a bit. "I scrawled it on the coffee table, and to have you in the corner of my eye as I wrote it, my attention wasn't fully on writing the note and the correct details. I apologize if you had a goose chase finding me." She took her focus off what she was doing to kindly lecture Lorelai on the pool's dress code. "By the way, lose the socks."

She looked down and picked up a foot to yank the pink cotton from each of them. "Sorry!"

"Don't be." Paris's voice echoed through the room, sounding smooth and calm, unlike her usual tone where she felt stress with every word. "I came down here about an hour ago. It's such a beautiful night, and I don't want to waste it because we were both stuck in that dark little media room. I'd rather be out here, soaking in the moonlight and curling up with a good book while I waited for you to stir and wake up."

"I kind of feel like I put a crimp on the night," Lorelai said. "I have to apologize that my sleeping schedule has suddenly gone crazy."

"Why should you?" Paris asked.

"Because it's affecting what you probably had planned for this evening," Lorelai explained, meeting the older teenager face to face for the first time in hours. "We got all warmed up before, and--"

"No, I mean, why should you have to apologize for waking up in the middle of the night because you've had such an erotic dream of me?" She turned around, folding over a page in a paperback to mark her place as she eyed up Lorelai. "You keep blaming sleep, the inn, and graduation as reasons for not being able to sleep well. I think I'm kind of disappointed in that."

Her theory, along with her appearance, caused a rare stutter in the voice of the innkeeper. "W-w-what?" She shook her head. "OK, you're not making any sense at all. I don't get to sleep lately, that's all. Many factors for that." She blushed, feeling Paris's heated brown gaze weigh down upon her. "I feel all screwed up without a set routine down lately. It's not getting ready, go to work, go home, relax and sleep anymore."

"Trust me, I understand that now, Lor," Paris said, stretching out in the lounge chair. "For fifteen years, I've been stuck in routine, every day, every month, every year. It's been comfortable and perfectly accommodating to me. But this summer, I really just want to relax. Do things I never do, or could never do. Tell my mother 'fuck you' and say that her mandates for what I should and shouldn't wear don't matter to me anymore." Following the dark-haired beauty's eyes, she smiled, while keeping a finger of her right hand within the worn book. "For example, she would never let me wear this, because for some strange reason, she doesn't think I can pull it off. Neither can Madeline or Louise, something about how it plays up the girls too much or some kind of ridiculous excuse designed to make them look larger to guys while I get stuck in some boring one-piece print from Newport News." She bit down on her lip suggestively, teasing the woman. "Now if I could Polaroid that reaction you're giving me, I would have to say that I make all three of those ladies look kind of homely." She felt a sharp dizzy feeling within her stomach. "Would I be right?"

Lorelai usually wasn't the type to give another woman a compliment about their dress. It usually led to two things; either a tepid return of the compliment, or more often, some snide remark that of course they looked wonderful, that the outfit was meant to be that and to stay out of their business as to what to wear. It almost didn't hurt that Lorelai was usually the hottest woman to walk into a room and all the women outside of her friends knew they didn't have to say a word to the woman to flatter her further.

But it was much different with Paris Gellar. Being stuck as the alleged homely one between two girls for so many years, Lorelai knew that Paris didn't have a good image of herself as she grew into her body. The chiding behind her back that she needed to lose a few of her womanly pounds, that she could do well with a breast reduction, to slim her hips, or have a smaller nose, there were many things that the girl had been told were flaws. She wasn't an 'it girl', just a plain young lady who would have to be content with someone who loved her more for her wits than her beauty.

However, if there was one flaw that Lorelai could find in the two-piece swimsuit the blonde woman was wearing, it was that she hadn't seen Paris in it earlier. Her mouth was wide open in an "O" as she took in the girl wearing a two-piece swimsuit that didn't just make Paris look stunning and hot, but right in the league of a pin-up girl.

It was a light brown color with a polka dot pattern along the bust and in the inner portion of the bottom, with a contrasting brown dot/white band pattern along the bands on both pieces. The halter top played up her bosom in such a way to make it look very flattering, giving the impression of limitless cleavage as the nylon material worked with her curves to Paris's advantage. She let her eyes rake over the bookish beauty, noting how the suit perfectly matched her dark skin tone and went so perfectly with her almond eyes. Her hair was loose and where Lorelai thought the girl was beautiful before, she couldn't take her eyes off from her at all. Taking her all in, long legs, slender knees, a full voluptuous figure that she would kill to own, Lorelai was so glad for her mother for once. If not for the annoying lunch, what happened afterwards as she gazed at the girl without any kind of filter.

"More than right," she said in a whisper, sitting on the chaise lounge next to Paris, feeling extremely nervous. "That...oh my God." She recognized where exactly the swimwear came from. "Has someone finally figured out she has a pretty nice rack to show off?"

"Maybe." Paris smiled, feeling so flattered. "It's all Lou's fault. She gave me a $500 gift card to the Secret last week for a grad gift and I went a little crazy." She was enjoying the attention given to her. "You know though, my ass isn't so bad either." She turned around to give the poolside equivalent of the twirl to the woman, showing the ties of the halter and how the back flattered her small rear just perfectly.

"Not at all." Lorelai smiled in appreciation of the beauty in front of her, then darted her eyes down to look at exactly what Paris was reading. "I see you spent your time waiting for me like I expected."

"This?" Paris lifted up the very dog-eared paperback with a tan cover. "Kind of appropriate, don't you think?" Lorelai laid her eyes on the cover, and was taken aback.

"If Emily would have ever caught me with that book, I think getting knocked up would've been quaint to her." The woman blanched, reading the title on the cover. "Delta of Venus? Never would've figured you a Nin fan."

Paris was pleased that the woman recognized the title. "You'd be very surprised what's on my shelves, Ms. Gilmore." She tossed her hair back. "Let's just say that Sharon and the used bookstore downtown I frequent? Not so much with the knowing what erotic fiction is." She explained that she was a part of book clubs online, basking in the anonymity of the Internet in order to discuss her love for erotic fiction, and how Amazon helped her seek out all the books that she wanted and desired. "You wouldn't believe how wonderful a community it is. The moderator bans the pervs looking to troll for dates, so all of us ladies and men into naughty writing can feel free to just share and look for new books to read. I know about three people in the group personally that I met in coffee houses around town. We're all just shy people looking for kicks."

"I always thought of you as bookish, but this..." Lorelai was so pleased. "This is just, a whole new dimension I'm seeing of you."

"Well just think about, Lor. I could buy some magazine with pictures, but what's the point? The picture is there and there's nothing you can do to change it, and you have to have some kind of gender wheelhouse to enjoy one, so it's like, here I am, right? I'm a girl just out of high school and I had a boyfriend, but I'm exploring with a woman. Unless I want to read a magazine specializing in threesomes, I have nothing to read. Erotic fiction on the other hand, there's something for everyone."

Lorelai listened intently to the girl as she described her points for her love of seductive words, and could understand where she was coming from. "So even with Jamie," she theorized, "you had the crush on me. And you thought of women on the same plane as guys?"

"What you have to understand is, my mind is complex. I've never been one for simplicity. My brain, it's always thinking, never quiet, even in sleep despite whatever scientific evidence there is. And sexually, I've been muted, but my imagination is vivid." She felt open enough to share some secrets about her life nobody knew with the innkeeper. "When I was younger, Louise and I would kiss, just for fun. We were kids, it was silly, but it felt completely natural to me. We even did a little petting beneath our shirts to explore and teach each other because the sex ed teacher we had sure the hell wasn't going to demonstrate it for us." Going further, Lorelai was further enlightened into the mind of an intelligent girl who knew every single consequence of sex and navigated the hormonal maze of high school through her imagination. Paris explained her latent crushes on female authority figures, about how she'd effortlessly mix that with her want for Tristan along with thoughts she had of other girls. Knowing she'd no longer face the threat of being stuck in a locker by a vindictive student, she admitted to the woman her main reason for attempting membership in the Puffs beyond transcript prestige was a long-simmering sexual wanting for Francine Jarvis, one that flamed out when the redhead blamed her for the demise of the organization. How all through her high school years she loved women and men equally, but stayed on the other side of the fence in an unsuccessful attempt to prove to herself she was happy in a heterosexual relationship. Lorelai took in everything, and felt her high school years come back herself again.

"I thought of girls all the time too," Lorelai shared quietly. "This one junior, Lydia Sherwood. She was one of the alpha girls at Hillside, and I yearned to be her. She was the captain of the girl's basketball team and was even taller than I am. But I was a girly girl and horrible at basketball, so I would have never worked out. I had a few friends I considered attractive, but after the pink line, they suddenly seemed to go away." She smiled oddly. "But you're in this age where you're made aware of lesbianism early, as if it's a natural part of life or used to get you tuned into a show. For me, it was never voiced out. It was subtle between Jo and Blair, there were some kids who were rumored at Hillside, but I never heard about it. And Chris..." She shook her head. "Sometimes I'm glad we broke up when we did. He called a few guys sissies because they showed affection through things like hugs, and I never understood his anger towards that and girl's sports. He absolutely loathed them as a waste of fields that could be used more for the football team."

"So, you'd say, you're awakening to this?" Paris crossed her legs. "That because you lived in a small town, intimate circles, I'm opening up your world."

"Yeah, you could say it like that." Lorelai felt warm, listening to the girl. She hadn't thought of another woman sexually in a long time, able to push attractions off to the sides as just spaces between her relationships. "I just never really thought of women like this. Maybe in dreams, but not as something I wanted to dwell on."

"Pretty much then, you've never had an attraction to your chef and co-investor?" She smiled a bit, unnerving Lorelai with her question as she had to think about Sookie in a different light beyond her best friend. She sputtered as she tried to explain it.

"Not...not with her at all. Oh, geeze, she's my friend, Par!" She groaned. "She has a kid and a husband and we never really got into thinking that way about each other." She had to turn the tables on Paris a bit. "Have you thought of your best friend in a wrong way then?"

"If you're talking about Rory, I admit I've dreamed of her and thought of how it would be. But she's just a bit too cheery for my tastes." Admitting it, Lorelai was surprised at the girl's candor. "The thing is, just because I find one certain woman attractive, doesn't mean I lust for every female. It takes a connection of some kind, an understanding, a bond that just works organically." She took Lorelai's hand into hers, and made close eye contact. "It's chemistry, need, desires, the friendship that goes beyond the relationship. So many factors have to go into thinking of a woman sexually before you ever consider it, and one variable can throw off the entire balance of everything."

"So...for Rory, it's her annoying optimism?"

"Exactly." Paris gave out another example. "As for Louise, I can't stand how blasé she is about relationships. She doesn't like to dwell on the small stuff, only the large gestures, the gifts, jewelry...the sex." She smiled. "Love her, but just as a friend because of that."

"And you enjoy the small moments, the simple gestures--"

"The limitless conversation where I don't need to drag out the index cards to have a good time." She felt warmed by how in sync she was with the innkeeper. "You invite me to talk, and I don't have to filter around you. I don't feel as if I have to dumb down, and though I know we won't ever have a long debate about cold fusion, I don't care." Paris bent down to place herself within Lorelai's space. "You let me speak, and give me all this breathing room to state my feelings. I like that my weakness won't be mocked. You understand where I come from, and to know that I have the ear of someone who knows my turmoil, that's incredibly heartening." She could smell the woman, the mix of her blanket's scent buffeted by talc and body spray, a soft fragrance. Her nostrils opened as she felt Lorelai's comfort once again near her, the want of seeing the woman in her soft moments.

Lorelai pursed her lips, noticing the distraction etched on Paris's face. They were both in that zone, the one where no one else was stopping them, and she was incredibly comforted that the girl thought so much of her. That she was so intelligent with her words and used them in such a toe-curling way with her. Smart was quickly becoming sexy for the tall brunette. She took Paris's other hand into hers, as they sat across from each other on the lounges.

"I think the thing that's been so interesting between us is that I don't have to dominate the conversation," she admitted, her clear blue eyes looking into the teenager's as if they had been close friends their entire lives. "It's refreshing to me, Paris. I have to keep on my toes, make a quip here and there just so that whoever I'm with isn't bored...or goes into a guy topic I hate." She huffed. "I've had a couple of sweet moments ruined by some car or TV boasting. In my world, 52" is just 4'4". It isn't a reflection of how much I should love someone just because they have a TV that size. And honestly," there was a twinkle in her eye, "I don't want to hear about inches in any sense on a date!"

Paris laughed out loud, imagining the woman cringing during a date with Max where he probably compared himself. The image was quickly pushed out for her own sanity. "Women don't need any inches, at all."

"Most certainly not. Unless we count vibrators, but then, a little bit does go a long way."

"I have one of those finger-sized 'personal massagers' they sell on informercials as a 'back massage aid.' Please!" Paris rolled her eyes skyward. "The moment I ordered it, I knew it wasn't headed anywhere external!"

"No shyness?"

"I even told the operator that their ad agency just needs to get over it and say vibrator." Lorelai blushed, thinking herself of the girl watching the Discovery Channel at three in the morning, sleepless, cranky, and sick of Jamie, watching the ad and picking up the phone post-haste. Her eyes glazed over from thinking of the conversation. "It's a nice device, perfectly sized. But there's no way that plastic compares to flesh at all." Her voice curled as she began to get up, wanting to push the night even further. Releasing Lorelai's hand, she noted that her pupils raked over her healthy full figure, breasts and all. "Especially skin aged thirty-five years, like a fine wine."

"Why Paris," Lorelai said, stunned. "Are you trying to loosen me up?" Paris smiled.

"Just an observation." She straightened her suit, pulling the bottoms up and stretching the material that drifted up back down. "This is a beautiful pool, don't you think?"

The brunette nodded affirmatively, taking a look at her surroundings, seeing the lights reflect off the water and create the effect where the water seemed to create waves on the walls, further buffered by the moonlight. The undisturbed water was quiet and almost still, with only the filter and a small discharge waterfall stirring it a bit. Her blue eyes were wide, taking it in.

"It hasn't changed," she said, nostalgic. "It's pretty much the same as I remember it."

"The warm water, the soft waves, the long, long swimming lane." The pool wasn't Olympic-sized by any means, but it was perfect for the large room, enough to swim and dive in. "I love it here, so much. I just feel the stress melt away when I can come in here and just do laps, over and over, until my body is sore, or just wade and float around." She saw the girl smile as she approached the deck. "This is my quiet place, my sanctuary. My mother isn't much of a swimmer so she'd rather not have a pool, but since we've got historical protection on the Manor, it's not going anywhere at all."

"It's a beautiful pool," Lorelai admitted. "There's one at my mother's house, but it's outdoors and always way too cold."

"So you didn't take a polar bear plunge on New Year's Day when you were younger?"

"Not when there wasn't any water in it." She kept her eyes on the blonde girl, taking in the full-figured beauty that she found herself warming up to often. The ties on the halter top looked so tempting, and the dark coloring of the suit seemed to blend right in with Paris's tanned skin. She was thoughtful, deliberate with her glances, trying not to show how turned on she was. Lorelai was in stone anticipation of where to go next with Paris, nervous about coming on too strong, but too light and the girl would think she did something wrong.

"I see Emily as like my mother," Paris shared, sitting near the pool edge. "Overly cautious, always afraid, thinking more about herself than anyone else. I pretty much see you as never being able to go near the pool."

"Well, maybe occasionally, but yes. She always watched." Lorelai was stunned at how Paris's mind was always whirring, making those small notes and forming them back into factoids that were intelligent and pitch-perfect. "In all my years in that house, I never swam alone."

"And you couldn't find yourself because of that," Paris spoke softly. "All you wanted through all those years was your independence, and Mrs. Gilmore never wanted to give it to you. She still thinks of you as a little girl, doesn't she?"

"Par...I don't mean to stop you, but what are you leading into?" Lorelai's voice was soft, trying to understand the point. The girl took a calming breath, making it seem like she was about to rebut with a long response as to her probing.

Instead, she made sure her footing against the small tiling of the deck was true as she unbent her body quickly to make a shallow dive into the water. She smiled, knowing exactly where she wanted to go next with the direction of the night. She got up for just a second to parallel her toes to the pool, and before Lorelai could really react...


The wake of Paris's descent into the water came strongly back at the brunette as she got a twelve foot push into the pool, curling her body serpentine into the eight foot deep portion of the pool, which went as deep as twelve. Lorelai could only look on stunned as she saw the young woman's flawless entry into the warm water, not realizing that the wake had disturbed water over the edge, enough to soak the legs of Lorelai's jeans. She got up and darted away, feeling cool from the water soaking through the denim. Backing towards the lounge chairs again, she watched the girl make a smooth semi-circle beneath the water, her body curving within, and then rise up again near the deck as she broke the plane of the water effortlessly, her usually voluminous mane of hair now flat against her head.

She had never imagined Paris as particularly smooth or coordinated at all, thinking of her as more in love with study than dancing. But her perfect push dive into the water had taken the woman by surprise, seeming so effortless and perfect. Paris took a couple breaths and smiled up at her as she pulled away from the edge to wade freely.

Lorelai bent down again. "OK, that's not the way someone who does a few laps enters a pool. You seemed like a professional."

Paris glowed from the compliment. "I have a pool, so I'm not going to put it to waste playing water basketball in the shallow end." The water dripped from her darkened hair, and glistened in the filtered moonlight. "I've known how to swim this well since I was eight, when I did the adopt-the-dolphin thing. I thought it wouldn't hurt that I could play my own lifeguard, you know."

"But you never considered it as a profession?"

"Yeah, and have my mom become worse than Dina Lohan? I want something to myself that's fun." She positioned herself to float on her back. "Besides, I have two very non-aerodynamic reasons I can't go further with swimming."

"True." Lorelai laughed shyly, trying to avert her eyes from Paris's breasts. "You look wonderful in the water," she complimented. "I mean, you look beautiful, no matter what, but this seems like a place where you feel most comfortable."

Paris nodded her head in the water. "No one can yell at me in here, or add any kind of pressure. It's just me, in water, you know? I can drift out into the middle and just be alone in my thoughts, dive into the water, have nothing but the hollow sounds of it surround me. Can't bring an iPod in, there's no way to write anything here, and I can just swim in here and let the world pass me by. As long as I don't prune up too much."

"I love that feeling." Lorelai was happy to hear about one of the girl's sanctuaries and how it kept her centered. "It just isn't the same in the bathtub though."

"It isn't. I actually dry up in a bathtub, so I'm more of a shower girl. After so many years of a swim followed by a shower, I'm too used to them to ever switch to a bath." She backstroked across the pool, focusing completely on Lorelai. "Working the arms and the legs, it helped me all these years walking the halls of Chilton with 20 lbs. on my shoulder and saddle shoes that would vex even Dr. Scholl. I just feel so free, and unencumbered in the water." Although she was happy, she was also a bit confused at still seeing Lorelai sitting on the edge of the pool.

"You know, Lorelai, I did invite you here so we could spend time together."

Lorelai, distracted by the way the water made Paris's hair flow in interesting patterns and her words, was brought back to attention. "We are, right?"

Paris flipped over to swim back to the edge of the pool, and then looked up, her chin resting on her hands. "Together, being the key word."

"Paris, we're in the same room." The blonde shook her head, wondering if her whole 'Lorelai is a seductress sex freak' front was just window dressing. "I don't mind if you want to go for a swim."

"Really?" She is not really that daft, is she? Paris tried to rationalize. "Well, I don't mind either."

"What do you mean?"

"Ms. Gilmore, you really think I'd want you here if I didn't want you to swim?"

"I'd love to, but--"

"You're dressed and don't have a spare bikini in the Jeep. I know." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh my God!" Lorelai was finally onto Paris's perfectly cunning plan. "You...you...how on earth did I glaze over that?" She remembered Paris saying something about taking laps in the pool before her invitation, but most of what she said before she made out with her in the locker room was quickly forgotten.

"I told you to dress casually," Paris recalled, noting that a deep red blush was coloring Lorelai's cheeks. "Of course I didn't say what you had to dress in."

"Uggh, how could I forget?" Lorelai groaned. "If...if...auggh, it's all your fault, doing that spin and showing off that ass of yours. I know I would have remembered otherwise, but you just kissed me, I was warm in that locker room, and..." Paris glided to the edge of the pool, enjoying how flustered the tall brunette was becoming, pushing her legs together and suddenly getting the entire point of the pool invitation. "Great. I'm stuck here with nothing to wear to swim with you."

"You are." She smiled knowingly. "Nothing to wear."

"Why are you staring at me like that--" She stopped, seeing that the girl's eyes were lightened and glazing over as her imagination managed to strip away the layers currently denying the blonde a look at the woman whose topography she was learning to enjoy. Lorelai backed away from the deck a bit. "Umm...Paris?"

"Yes, Lor?" She sucked on her lower lip, licking her tongue across the flesh, trying to appear innocent.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking?" She narrowed her eyes towards the wet blonde.

"What would I possibly be thinking?" Her cheeks warmed, a sign that she was holding in a fib. She also held back a temptation to laugh as she saw the woman's hand move nervously to the waistband of her jeans.

"Something that usually isn't allowed in a public pool, most likely." Her arms developed goosebumps, the woman becoming nervous for once from more than caffeine tremors. "What you're probably thinking, I've never done before. Ever."

"Never?" Paris's curiosity piqued.

"Never ever," Lorelai made clear. "But you're in that water. I'm out here. Where does that leave us?"

"I don't know, but I want you in here."

"And you want me out of some things, right?"

"Preferably, all things." She gave it to the woman straight. "You're not really that shy, are you?"

"Not usually, no." Lorelai brushed hair back behind her ear, while her other finger played at the fly of her jeans. "I just feel nervous about this."

Paris felt her breath hitch as she saw a patch of skin along Lorelai's stomach. Closing her eyes, she felt her muscles tense while her heartbeat quickened. Just the very idea of wanting what she wanted to happen, it was enough to drive her up a wall.

Also not helping? That she was just above one of the jets which blew warm water into the pool. Where she was wasn't helping empty out the corrupted images of the older woman out of her mind at all. She moaned when she didn't mean to, letting the three syllables of the Germanic name fall out in a drifting whisper.

"Lorrrr-elll-aiiii..." She grasped at the edge of the pool hard with one hand, afraid to drift away. She felt her nipples constricting within her top, her body responding to the dream stimuli. She felt a bit embarrassed about feeling so flustered, but after two weeks without the woman, thinking about her sexually while in front of the actual person, she felt her iron defenses melting.

"What do you want me to do, Par?" Lorelai slid the top button of her button fly out from the eye. "Do you want me to swim with you?"

"Mm-hmmm." Lorelai began to feel her nervousness melt away as she saw the heiress begin to lose control of her stern front.

"Do you want me to do this?" She slowly lifted the hem of her shirt and slid it up along her slender body, letting her now-Chilton blue fingernails scrape along her ribs. "Take off my shirt for you...then my jeans?"

"M-m-maybe." She seethed, pressurizing herself as the fantasy became reality. Lorelai undid the second button on her jeans, the pink edging of her panties coming into Paris's dampened view. The woman's confidence was coming back strongly. She pushed away from the jet and back into the middle of the pool, feeling too aroused to keep herself in front of the jet. The woman walked along the pool, stripping herself on the long-sleeve shirt with her eyes staying upon Paris's with each stroke, each movement towards the middle of the pool. Pulling it off, she tossed it onto the lounge chair and walked along the edge casually.

"I think that you forgot to mention to bring a swimsuit on purpose," Lorelai inferred, warming as Paris treaded water in the middle of the pool, her eyes straight on her. "You know, it's not very nice to extend an invitation to someone and fail to inform them of proper beachwear." She slid the third button of her fly out. "I would've brought something nice to wear if that were the case. But now, I'm stuck, and I'm going to have to improvise." The lecture was muted by Lorelai's voice, sultry and soft. "And since I have no urge to steal something from your mother's closet, it looks like I have one of three choices..."

Paris took a deep breath as Lorelai pushed her jeans down her hips and her legs, to pool at her ankles. She stepped out of them, revealing the tall woman in the cotton bra seen before with matching bikini underwear. The new business owner felt extremely confident as she watched the girl of her dreams realize she was getting in over her head. The teasing of earlier was coming back to bite her, and now the woman held all the cards. Suddenly, it was Paris who was feeling the intimidation as she took in the beautiful woman in front of her. Her brown eyes were full of want for Lorelai as she took in the woman's gorgeous form in much appreciation.

"You do have choices," she repeated, just to fill in the silence. Lorelai sat at the edge of the pool, dipping her legs in to test the temperature, which was just right for someone who loved warm water. The bra Lorelai wore pushed in her breasts, displaying her freckled cleavage in a provocative manner. She smiled towards the swimming girl, her pearlish teeth glistening and causing questions in Paris's mind she never had thought about before.

Like why did she ever want Jamie in the first place.

"I do." She bent forward and reached her hands back, moving them to the back clasp of her bra. "I actually have three choices, I think. Process of elimination, and each has a 33 percent probability of being the correct result, right?"

Oh God! Paris felt herself losing control of her emotions as she took in the woman's intelligent words. She couldn't believe that Lorelai Gilmore, of all women, was using statistical analysis to turn her on.

"33.33333 and so on," she corrected numbly, her brain still ever on the lookout for some kind of error.

"Just a number," Lorelai shot back. "Numbers define us, and sometimes they bring us together." She stretched out the clasp to bring the two ends apart. "Like the first choice. I don't know if you want this one, because it seems a little far-fetched in a situation like this." She released her hand, and began to bring the straps down, Paris enraptured by the sight in front of her. "You keep telling me that we're all alone, that no one will walk in on us. I could totally keep this on, but for what?" Lorelai's voice softened. "I have a huge pool here and you're in here in a beautiful two-piece, and I have underwear on. As much as I'd like to dive in here with it on, you might be disappointed." The bra was completely down, pushed in, barely shielding the woman's small breasts. "Besides, I suspect that the chlorine in this water would do a number on the color." Paris couldn't take her eyes off Lorelai, salivating as she slowly exposed her flesh in the humid room, the woman letting herself get used to it as she slid her hands down until the cups of the lingerie no longer were placed against her. She let the straps slide from her arms, and then took the bra into her right hand, setting it to the side and letting a warm blush rise through her.

Oh, I hope this is right, the brunette thought, watching Paris's bottom teeth peek out as she bit on her lip. She was a master of flirting, but never like this. Not when she had such an impression to make, on a young woman who had been through a relationship where she wasn't allowed to come first or indulge in anything she may have wanted.

"Oh my." That was all that Paris could say as she took in Lorelai nude from the waist up. Seeing her before, she was beautiful. But in front of her in the pool, it was unbelievable. Sitting on that edge, gazing at Lorelai bending each of her fingers nervously, Paris was utterly infatuated with this comforting woman. Her body was warm, her muscles completely taut, both from the sexual tension and the force of the water against her.

"I...I..." She couldn't say a word, and Lorelai took that as her cue to further things. She slid into the pool feet first, the temperature contrast not shocking her at all. Using one hand to guide herself in, she felt a calm that she couldn't explain as the water rose above her waist. Lorelai felt commanding, and she glided in the rest of the way, then judged where she was, stretched her hands out, and directed herself towards the blonde, moving towards the shallow end of the pool.

She knew what was about to happen. It was inevitable, and the point of no return was gone. She swam slowly towards the other end as Lorelai surfaced, following her across the expanse of water with the same stroke, her mind spinning with the knowledge that her love was in her pool topless. Her heart was pumping hard, her hormones spinning all over as she felt the tightness build.

The brunette kept her thoughts fully on catching Paris, taking each stroke slowly, enjoying the feel of the water against her bare skin. It was a freeing feeling, something that made her feel sixteen all over again. She took a look at where she was, about ten meters away from Paris, who was now clinging to the other side of the pool in a section with four and a half feet of water, waiting for the woman to come for her.

At least at that moment. As Lorelai was about to close in, Paris's foot turned to make a jump off the pool floor for a glide away from the woman. She laughed as she felt her body elongate within the water, and turned to see Lorelai where she had been, getting on her feet and a bit frustrated.

"Oh, you're not gonna get away that easily." Evilly grinning, she attempted to catch up to the blonde with quick strokes in the water, trying to catch up to Paris. She couldn't however, and then Paris laid down the gauntlet for the woman to grab at her. Stopping within the middle of the deep end, she smirked at the woman, knowing she was safely away from Lorelai just before she prepared for a new getaway.

"Catch me if you can!" She laughed, beginning to circle the pool at the edge, and Lorelai took her bait, swimming behind her but still at a distance away, unable to find a way to get a hold of Paris. She grumbled under her breath about the blonde being a 'slippery girl', and for five minutes, found herself guided into an unexpected workout of her arms and legs trying to get the teenager back close to her, but failing. She was indeed being teased, and a couple of times when the older woman was in the deep end, Paris swam under her, diving deep to the floor of the pool and then coming back up in a torrent of giggles.

Finally, Lorelai paused in the middle of the pool, having found herself a new plan. She was going to lie in wait, make Paris think she was swimming...

And before long, Paris became ensnared in her trap. She dove under the water in a corner of a pool to get some speed, but Lorelai was paused in the seven foot area, ready to surprise her. Lorelai took a few breaststrokes towards where the two women would meet, and when Paris came up for breath, she had no choice but to stop due to the obstructing woman in her way. She attempted to swim around, but instead her space was surrounded on all sides. She had no choice but to begin to wade in place, and Lorelai took advantage of it. Smirking, hair dripping with water and confronted with the innkeeper braless and wet, Paris couldn't help but give in as her rushing heart thumped with want as Lorelai wrapped around her, the both of them moving towards the shallow water.

"I got you," she said softly. "You are a really good swimmer," Lorelai complimented, looking down at the shorter girl, enjoying how well her tan stood out within the pool lighting, and beginning to wrap around her.

"You're not too bad yourself." Paris pushed wet hair out of her eyes, extremely surprised with how Lorelai was able to keep speed with her. She had been in the pool with Madeline and Louise, and Marco Polo games with them had often been fruitless exercises in frustration. Liquid dripped from the tip of her nose, and Lorelai inexplicably found herself drawn to brush a building droplet from the feature, caressing her thumb across it. If Paris could have never thought her nose was possibly an erogenous zone, that misconception was quickly put to rest with a guttural moan aroused from her throat at the slight touch. She seethed through her mouth, tightly closed, feeling wound and tired from the swim, along with warm and wanted as Lorelai pressed herself up against the smaller young woman. The clear eyes of the hotelier were only focused on the future Yalie, taking in her soft features and proud jawline, and her flushed cheeks. Wrapping around Paris, Lorelai dared to place her hands at the small of Paris's back, resting her pinky against the waist of the suit bottom. The tension between the two women was building, the hours without each other proving to be their undoing. The innkeeper pressed her chest against the smaller woman, and moved to bring her into a deep kiss that was slow at first, exploring, soft and caring. Quickly though, it became rushed and torrential, Paris returning it with the zeal she never had with Jamie. She sucked at Lorelai's lip, trying to discover what made the older woman cave down, making her moan. Her own hands explored Lorelai's bare back, and the reveled in the tallness of the other woman, watching her emotions with each touch, Lorelai's heartbeat picking up, the usually quippy woman unable to rebut at all that she was being ruined as the kiss further deepened to the point Paris had her up against the wall.

Water dripping from their hair, they explored, tasting and probing, feeling the heat build. Lorelai tried to keep her hands neutral, at Paris's side, but soon found her thumbs at the side of the halter top, gasping out that she wanted to undress the girl but holding back for her personal sanity. She felt a shock as Paris dared to dip her right hand right into her panties, along her hip, the bare skin contact electric and unlike she ever felt before. She shivered as the water cooled her skin involuntarily, and wanted to push the girl further.

There was nothing she could do though. This was Paris's home, and she had to cede to the blonde. Paris kissed all along her jawline, and then moved her mouth towards Lorelai's ear. Nipping at the lobe after weakening the 35 year-old so much she'd probably eat anything voluntarily, she quickly learned that even with all of her quippiness, Lorelai had awoken the sleeping giant that was Paris's formerly dormant libido. She was asserting her control of the evening, of how she had learned so much about how to please a woman, and was ready to demonstrate it with ardor.

Her monotone in Lorelai's ears sounded like the call of a siren. "It's been two weeks, Lor. Two weeks without you. Two weeks of suffering, of missing you, of recalling those digits against my clit, frigging me off in a way I never expected. Of comfort sex that made me feel sane again, and which I've craved. Everywhere." She began to push the woman's panties down into the water, her hands directing in a 'V' towards the older Gilmore's sex. "During several exams, after I finished, I rubbed my thighs together at the desk, remembering you. How you make you me feel, that you've opened me up to the possibilities." Lorelai gritted her teeth as fingers circled around each of her lips in a circular motion, whimpering from the touch. "In bed, your panties in my pillow case, I'd bring them out, take a sniff of them, come back to what we did, what you did to me. How you brought back my drive. Your scent, your taste, your passion...." She left lilting kisses and licks down her cheek. "Do you do wicked things in your bed? Do you think of me, on top?" More soft kisses, wet, full of passion. "My weight on you, my breasts in your mouth, hearing my cries. All these years, stuck having to satisfy your daughter, but never yourself." She let the word slide slowly from her mouth, hissing. Knowing her word play turned Lorelai on.

"Fuck!" Lorelai bit out harshly. "Par...yeah..."

"I keep going back to that first time we saw each other," Paris husked. "Whipping out of Ambrose, in those jean shorts and pink shirt. Very unprofessional dress for a first day of school," she scolded teasingly. "But it brought my attention towards you. I don't know why, or why I stuck with it. You kissed Max in the classroom..." A slow buss. "I was there." She guided Lorelai towards the direction of the ladder. "I don't know why I'm so drawn towards you. Maybe it's how rebellious you are, how I've always heard about this 'ungrateful spoiled little bitch' from the 80's who kept skipping her etiquette classes and would sneak out of the house at all hours of the night, along with being so independent, never letting anyone get to you at all. I guess you could say..." She paused to grasp at the railing of the ladder, then with her other hand, shocked the older woman by grasping her right side, letting part of her hand rake across her breast.

"I think I might have a thing for the bad girls." She tugged at Lorelai's earlobe with her teeth, and then suckled at it, hoping to ire a reaction from her lover.

She got it, seethed out through a tightened voice. "Girl?" Lorelai wondered, thinking she was wrong.

"I mean what I say." She let a smirk play across her lips. "Whatever you've done with guys, it doesn't matter to me. You've explored, gone over that territory multiple times, and it's all old hat. But I'm catching you on an upswing. This is new to you, being intimate with another woman, and really, I feel comfortable thinking of you as young. I mean if you were fifteen right now, you'd probably be stuck on Adderall because you have this energy going everywhere and anywhere."

"I do." She laughed softly at Paris's observation. "But I can hold my attention, I think."

"You can." She felt Lorelai's hands on her waist. "I highly doubt, for instance, any of your men have been able to hold themselves out for more than three hours on a date. I actually let you sleep."

"It was very chivalrous of you." She stared at Paris, warming from the heat building between them. "I guess that's the advantage of youth, you're more careful."

"If that's what you want to call it." The blonde challenged the assertion. "Careful between us doesn't work. We both took a risk in that classroom reading those cues that were hidden."

Lorelai was unsettled at the description. "So you don't intend to be careful?"

"In what sense?" Those words had created an opening. "Because of course, I can handle hiding us. That's not the problem here. But what do you want to do with me, Lor?" She snagged her bottom lip with her teeth, looking for the further signs to heat the flirting.

"What do you want, Par?" She wondered back. Her mind was short circuiting, and she couldn't seem to find the words to express her desires. Her eyes darkened, Lorelai felt the pool push against her in all directions, the flow of the water another distraction beyond the hand between her legs.

The blonde smirked, holding a smile, challenging her older partner. "My wish for the evening has already come true, Ms. Gilmore." She pushed the taller woman against the wall, her hands on each hip. "I was able to get my college choice off my chest."

"That's it?"

"Truly, that was my main aim. But it was a means to an end. An excuse to get you here. You came tonight, and that's all that matters." Paris was thankful that instead of a ladder, the climb out of the pool was on a gentle slope of steps as she guided a willing Lorelai towards that direction. "But it's more than that, how in just two meetings you've become the friend I've needed and wanted for so long."

"So you do consider us friends," Lorelai said, nervous. "I...didn't know for sure."

"We are," Paris proclaimed, whispering, her fingers maneuvering towards the deep curve of the small of Lorelai's back. "I consider you my friend, Lorelai."

"Me...me too." Lorelai treaded carefully up the steps. "Good friends."

"Unexpected friends." Paris focused on her lover, enjoying the short and abrupt banter. "I'd like to think to an extent more than just friends in the classical sense. We're more like...women of convenience to each other." Up another step. "You have Sookie busy with her son, while Rory is in gloating mode. We both get the shrift because our lives don't have the drama. So we create our own."

Lorelai felt courageous, sliding her hands up carefully to grasp at Paris by her side. "Harvard rejection is drama though. And what if I hadn't got the Inn?"

"I think we still would have done something," Paris declared hopefully. "Maybe a little more muted. But there's tension between us. It's hard and unmoving." She should do an audiobook, Lorelai thought to herself as she heard Paris's deeply sexual voice. An erotic thriller. Maybe something from that writer of the Stephanie Plum books, those would be in her wheelhouse. Her blood flow seemed to be nowhere near her brain at all as Paris talked. "In the settings we've done it, we dealt with the drama. We moved on to the raw feelings and laid it all out there."

Paris felt a chill against her skin as she came up from the water, but ignored it, buffered from the heat of Lorelai against her. "We are friends with an understanding, that work or school is priority one right now. But we still need fun. I especially need it."

"All work and no play does make someone dull." Lorelai whispered the cliché, Paris guiding her towards the whirlpool. "You haven't played enough. No offense."

Paris withered her stare, but still laughed softly. "Are you saying I'm in this for the fun?"

"I hope I'm giving you fun."

"Plenty of it." Paris kissed Lorelai, the feel of her lips upon hers so addicting. "I deserve this fun."

"More than deserve it. You're owed, hon." Out of the pool, Lorelai dared to dip her index fingers within Paris's suit bottoms. "I really can't stop thinking about you. It's insane."

"Me either." The women moved towards the whirlpool hurriedly, careful to keep their footing on the deck and towards the steps leading to the pool. "How bad do we have it?"

"Bad enough," Lorelai said. "I wore that shirt you wore to bed last Sunday in town, unwashed, just to give myself a taste. After four hours out there, you can just imagine how turned on I was. Knowing you wore that shirt. That I seduced you in it..." She looked down, the feel of Paris's skin against her palms heating her up. "God, Paris. I go to bed and smell you, and I can't stop replaying that night, over and over again. In various ways, in different ways of dress."

"What do you prefer me in?" Paris wondered. "Now that I've graduated I think I'm mothballing the uniform for a bit."

"The uniform didn't really do that much," Lorelai admitted. "How could it? A big blazer over a parachute of a skirt? Sorry to say, but in that classroom, it wasn't the uniform that was drawing me to you, it was something else altogether."

"Surely it did play some role." Lorelai shook her head.

"Only after you began to unbutton it. But our touching, that triggered it. Feeling your body against mine, the hug, it was not the uniform. It was who was underneath it, and you're more than that." A soft whisper, Paris's eyes lingered across the freckles dotting across the older woman's chest. "I mean at the time, it was hot and heated in that room. That's not in doubt. But I just expected you in a hug to be angular and cold, that you wouldn't have welcomed it. But I was surprised. You...you just didn't know how to hug, that's all, and when you fell into it naturally, it all came together." A pause while Lorelai wiped her hand across her forehead. "I just had that image of you, and to find out you were...um, zaftig beneath it all, it was a nice surprise."

"I'm impressed. Getting out those million dollar words for me." Blushing at Lorelai's compliment, she moved to break apart so they could both safely ascend the steps. "So, not the uniform."

"I can't say a specific outfit does it for me, Paris. I'm sorry. I just know that what we stumbled into within that classroom, I enjoyed it, and now I want more." She felt matter of fact about her opinion, pleased to admit that it wasn't what Paris wore, but who she was that mattered much more than anything else. They both walked up the steps and Paris felt the steam hit her as she sat down at the edge of the pool, easing her legs into the water and feeling the heated water warm her body. Immediate relaxation came to her as she felt the water surround her, and she watched the brunette also dip in carefully.

The water was immediately therapeutic to the older woman. She let the warm liquid inundate her and sat down on the seat within the tub, feeling stress melt away for the first time since she could no longer take advantage of her assistant manager duties at the Inn to partake in the Honeymoon Suite's tub. It was a weekly ritual for her to use the tub, an hour used to meditate on her life and prepare herself for things ahead within the next week.

Of course, she was usually alone in those circumstances, and in a swimsuit. But in this situation, it was a heavenly thing to be in Paris's whirlpool. She closed her eyes and stretched out her arms on the warm tiled deck of the tub.

She shuddered as her muscles seemed to collapse. "I take it...this is your form of therapy outside of the concept of therapy itself."

"Mm-hmm," Paris answered, taking in her lover while her face built a blush from the warm steam. "I even had the alarm company wire something up so that when I turn off the alarm to get in the gate and house after school, I can start the heating element for the tub. Took them a couple tries, but they perfected it, and since then..." She sloshed her arms around a little to coat her neck with warm water. "It never gets old. That feeling of sliding in and having someplace to relax before you prepare to hit the books hard. I could never start an essay without soaking in here."

"I can see why you love it in here," Lorelai whispered to her, opening her eyes slightly to land upon Paris's plump lower lip. "This is the ultimate in relaxation. All I need is a back massage and--"

With those words, Paris stopped her from speaking any further. "Say no more." She directed Lorelai towards her and had her sit in front of her lap, on the floor of the tub. "Now just go all the way in. You won't be under water all the way." Lorelai complied, and Paris smiled as she sat on the floor, with her mouth a few inches above the surface. She received a surround effect from all of the jets swirling around her, and then Paris placed her hands on the innkeeper's sore shoulder blades. Sensing the tenderness in her muscles, she made slow circles with her thumbs on the shoulders, while doing the same with her lower palms on her upper back, rotating clock directions with a soft 10-1 countdown. Lorelai let the warm water and bubbles swirl around her as Paris took much advantage of the opportunity presented to her to further the romantic gestures she was becoming expert in.

"Oh my God...God...Paris." If there was one highlight in Lorelai's dreams she kept replaying, it was the ankle massage when she tripped. Her mind was mush as Paris gave her a thorough deep tissue rubdown, kneading her shoulders, her upper back, lower back. Within the pool the effect was amplified. Lorelai was silenced, unable to respond beyond appreciative grunts and gasps forced from her throat. She knew now that even if she wasn't tired, she couldn't go home. Paris's slender fingers on her spine were such a relaxant, along with how soft her words were as she admitted another one of her confessions from the last two weeks.

"I really couldn't stop thinking about you," she seethed. "I bet I smell like sex all the time."

"I don't know."

"I do." She cleared her throat. "I've been so hormonal because of the heat. I can't wear clothes in my bedroom. I keep it hot in there to have an excuse to disrobe, to be damp, sweaty, full of hormones. I even had a small stair climber put in under the guise of my mother thinking I wanted to lose weight. But it wasn't. I worked out on it for a half hour until I soaked through the tank top and workout shorts, to recall when you fucked me against your fridge. I loved it. Fuck, I get wet hearing that tear all over again in my mind."

Lorelai was stunned and stumbled over her words. She got off to me being aggressive. Oh my God. It was just an accident! Trying to explain her behavior, she felt somewhat contrite about being so aggressive to a younger woman.

"P-p-par, you really should have pushed yourself away from me," she explained. "I had no business doing that. It wasn't acceptable--"

The other woman sighed, moving her hands lower down towards the small of Lorelai's back, while pecking small kisses along the nape of her neck. Her words were intent on being soothing, to show her intimate side was much different from her public persona.

"You have no reason to justify that you were too aggressive. If I hated it, I wouldn't have teased you on the phone."


"I would not have invited you here either." She drew a long cooling breath against Lorelai's neck, chilling the woman and driving her to a throaty gasp. "If you're afraid you're corrupting me, Ms. Gilmore, you're sorely mistaken. I've been trying to fall out of the girl I have been for so long. I've tired of being treated as complacent and boring. Jamie did that for so long and I just never felt attracted to him. There was too much pressure, angst, self-loathing that I was only in a relationship for the sake of having a relationship."

"Oh, Paris." Lorelai felt empathetic for the girl. "I don't think you're boring."

"I know." Lorelai shuddered within the warm water, the girl behind her trying to show she could be passionate. "I know in the past you thought of me as beholden to regimen. But those days are over. I had to in order to survive in that school. But for the next three months, I'm not going to follow a plan. I'll just go where things take me. If my new thinking follows me to Yale, all the better. I need to learn to relax, and you're helping me to do so."

"But are you sure?" Lorelai still felt odd about Paris being so free from obligations. She was built on regimen and schedules, and she hated to be the one who would place Paris off her track. "I mean, what if you change your mind? You're going to realize that this is wrong and frowned upon, and you'll end up hating me because I lead you somewhere you didn't want to go."

She expected Paris to begin a rant that she wanted to change her mind about things. Instead, a nervous and slight giggle came from her, and she laid a couple more kisses upon her lover's neck. She was determined to see everything through, and would not allow Lorelai the privilege of her usual self doubt and the sabotage she learned to hone from years of trying to save her love life from ruining Rory's.

Paris was an observer at heart. She knew Lorelai ran from Max when she realized a crimp in her relationship with her daughter would come. It was a part of her nature to be an outgoing flirt and then reel back when the reality and doubts set in. From the moment all those days ago that Lorelai had opened up and admitted she wanted more, Paris knew it was her goal to make sure she would keep the older woman away from her qualms. Wrapping her arms around the woman, she brought Lorelai close against her and whispered softly into the sensitive shell of the woman's right ear, letting her lips brush against the lobe purposefully.

"My mind is made up, my dear. I really don't care what others think. For now, let's keep this to ourselves, and don't you dare think this is wrong. I am here, I want this, and I know deep down, you're the same." Lorelai could never get over how deep and incredibly sexy Paris's voice was. How such a simple woman carried a voice that was always filled with authority, but in the simple moments was sweet and drove her up a wall. It was enough to make her shudder from only her words. "If I only wanted to stay friends, I would have never kissed you."

"I know--"

"Then stop thinking about others, Lor." She was becoming serious. "They're not here right now. No one is. Just the two of us, here, right now."

"Paris, are you sure..." It was then that the younger woman released her grasp, tiring of her lover's doubts coming into play. She was sad to see that underneath all those good humored layers laid a woman in darkness, still self-crucifying herself for an error made nineteen years ago that only made her stronger. Breathing evenly, Paris encouraged Lorelai to turn around, to look at her eye to eye and doubt herself with Paris looking right at her. Moving to the other side of the tub Lorelai sat on the edge, looking down at the water and the steam rising above it, trying to shy away. She couldn't understand why she was suddenly trying to draw away from Paris, afraid she was taking things too far and too fast.

In the last few weeks, Paris had finally become assured in her sexuality, and being bold was working for her beyond what she ever thought. She wasn't like she was in that classroom, doubting Lorelai found her beautiful in any way. This was her being direct and open, trusting of Lorelai as her confidant.

Time to take this up a notch, she thought to herself, worn out and feeling the effects of the warm water finally overtaking her. She relaxed, sliding over to sit next to Lorelai, the both of them on the side of the tub looking out the glassed façade of the pool room to the moonlit gardens. She brought her hand to tip Lorelai's head towards her, so they could see eye to eye. She moved in closer, letting her dark walnut eyes communicate that she wasn't having any second thoughts about what she wanted within the whirlpool. She tucked a wet strand of hair back behind her ear and took in the woman's delicate features, deciding to be bold in trying to woo her.

"You shouldn't be nervous at all. I'm here, and open and willing to do anything with you." She pursed her lips, sliding her tongue along them to add a sheen of gloss. "I want to learn with you, to be guided and be fully open."

"I just...I don't want to hurt you," Lorelai said, softly, her eyes wide as she began to forget where she was. "I'm just thinking...and I don't know why I'm thinking this." She paused to compose herself. "I have to leave on Tuesday. Right when we're finding a nice thing, I have to leave. I hate it, because I feel like I'm..." shaking her head, Lorelai tried to be soft with the words she said. "You're here, I'm in Germany. And for the next two months, I'm gone. It's like I'm going to...to make love to you and run. I...you know what I mean, right?"

Paris nodded, knowing a term was left out on purpose. But she wasn't going to back off at all. She moved into the center of the whirlpool to move her flirting around.

"There is a such thing as pen and paper, Lor. I'll be sure to give you my address in Idaho when I'm there, and I do have a private post office box which is for the mail I don't want anyone else to see." Paris laid it all outfor her. "You can be assured that just because there's an ocean between us, this does not stop tonight. I won't let it."

"So if you want me to...I can write you a dirty letter when I'm bored and you will answer it?" Lorelai's mood was quickly brightening. "That is, if you want me to, I--"

"After keeping me sane in exam week, I know I'll need you through the upcoming Gellar family reunion in early July," Paris joked. "I know you're worried. You think I'm going to find someone else this summer and when you come back, I'll forget this ever happened." She wrapped herself around the woman and brought herself close to her lover, sliding her hands within Lorelai's in a light clench. "But I can't, and I won't. This might have started sort of rudely with me bumping into a vacation planned fourteen years ago, but I figure I have time on my side. There's no need to rush. That two months will just give us time to consider if this is right, or if this was just a bit of senior fun I had to get out of my system, or your mid-life crisis. However..." She lowered her voice, pushing aside hair in Lorelai's face to look at her deeply bright eyes. "I am no longer a high school senior, thus it has extended beyond that term. Meanwhile, with the way you eat junk food, you passed your mid-life ten years ago."

Lorelai was of course offended by Paris's quip. "Hey!" She narrowed her eyes as Paris began to laugh deeply at her quip. "I'll have you know that this body has plenty of years in it. Hell, my goal is to get to the Tricentennial, that is if we have a Tricentennial. I mean who knows, we could be invaded by Canada and sorry, July 4, 2076 is four days after Canada Day. Just another day."

"So you intend to die at the ripe old age of...108?" Paris smiled. "I really hope I can hold you to that."

"If I go past, you owe me $5,000." She smiled. "Enough to pay for the hole digger's hourly pay if inflation continues how it is."

"I hope so." Paris laughed at the absurdity of the sudden conversation turn. "I guess I'd be 92 then. Still pretty young."

"And with that, I think we end this right here before I decide octogenarian sex is hot." She sunk into the tub, glad to be relaxed again. "Although I'd love to see how you look at 92."

"Umm, I don't think my alleged beauty can carry that long. I'm sure these," she pointed at her breasts, "won't look so good at that age."

"So I should probably enjoy them now?" Lorelai's eyes wandered to the younger girl's very apparent cleavage and she softly whistled towards them.

Paris shuddered, feeling a cold chill run through her as the emotional conversation began to melt away. It was apparent that the women had been ignoring their sexual needs far too long, but that the buildup through their talking and clothed making out only made their bond that much stronger.

"I'm certainly not getting any younger," she dared, reaching behind to find the tie of the halter. "But I think I'm growing into my body."

"Stop," Lorelai said softly, moving towards Paris. "Let me." She took the young woman by surprise as she couldn't respond, feeling her sexual stride return instantly. Brushing her fingers along the back of the student's sensitive scalp, she heard her moan while letting her nails move down towards the tie of the halter. They stared at each other, Paris flushing from the attention of the other woman on her.

Lorelai glided her finger along the thick strap towards the knot. "I don't know why some of your schoolmates ever cut down your body. I like this kind of shape. You're toned, but yet, still soft and supple, womanly."

"Lor..." Paris drew out her name. "You don't know how much pressure I get. I'm told all the time to lose some pounds."

"Don't." She brushed a kiss across her lips, undoing the loosening knot slowly. "You're beautiful as you are." Another kiss. Seething through her teeth, she enjoyed the girl sexually coiled, one hand in her hair as the tie loosened, the straps coming apart. "Very beautiful."

"You must think...I'm crazy." Paris tried to minimize the compliment. "I shouldn't be thinking like this, wanting an authority figure like you."

"I don't care. I want this...I want you." Lorelai's voice was a whisper, the steam rising off the water as her hands moved down Paris's broad back, taking in the girl's blessedly smooth skin. "Let yourself go for me, honey. Come on...you're free."

"I don't know."

"You are. No more teachers or books, and dirty looks? Soo history now." With her other hand, she let her fingertips brush against the blonde scalp, mews of pleasure sliding from the bookish girl's throat. "I'm never going to see you as just another girl ever again. Not after those times we've been together." She slid down to kiss at Paris's neck, then towards her right shoulder, now bared and teasingly hinting at the still contained cleavage below it. She suckled at the flesh, intending for the girl to remember her long after Tuesday, but still leaving kisses in places unlikely to be discovered based on Paris's usual dress. Her other hand moved to Paris's leg, rubbing circles along a thigh to begin to force her legs apart.

"Damn..." Paris drew out the word tightly, wound up and stressed from the long hours of the day where she couldn't touch her lover. Since the meeting in the clubhouse she had tamped down her desire for her own sanity, but it could no longer be denied.

"Are you gonna cum if I barely touch you?"

Paris nodded, her eyes tightly closed, her voice breaking from the overload. "I can't. This has to go slow."

"We have all night." Lorelai untied the back knot of Paris's top, and it slid carelessly from her body and onto the surface of the water. Immediately she set her eyes upon the assets of her 'good friend', flushing from how turned on the other girl was. She tossed the top onto the deck, pushing Paris to the edge once again. "Time will pass slowly."

"I'm not ready to...oh God!" Paris involuntarily pressed her legs together as Lorelai's head bobbed under the water to give attention to one of her breasts. She tried to push her off, thinking it was too fast and too soon, but her heart was in control of her head. Lorelai grasped at her side and left small little nips at the hardened nub of her nipple, running her teeth along the ridge of the areole slowly, making Paris hyperventilate as the woman suckled it slowly. Her other hand moved to grasp at the swimsuit bottoms to take it down, but Paris didn't seem to be ready for that yet, batting it away.

"Come on, give me...some time...ohhhhh...ohhh!" Lorelai continued to kiss at her for a minute before coming up for air. Immediately her eyes landed upon the reddened skin featuring a nice darkened mark where her mouth had just been, and a few small nip marks from where she teased the girl. Paris felt dizzy from the sudden physical activity, trying to catch her breath.

She stared at Lorelai, shaking her head at the woman who was smiling her way and shaking water from her hair.

The other woman knew she had control. Paris had shuddered hard in her grasp, and she straddled above her, letting her hand break the plane of the water as Paris realized where she had seen that gleam in her lover's eyes before.

Ohh...the fridge. She remembered every moment of that encounter, the way Lorelai fucked her like she was possessed and unruly. The tear was in her mind all over again as the older woman brought down her voice, showing she knew what the young scholar wanted at that moment.

"You don't want to stretch this out, do you?" Her fingernails scraped across Paris's left knee and up her thigh. "I know that one of your dreams has to always been to be taken in here."


"Because I remember when I was a teen, I wanted to fucked here too," Lorelai said, her eyes never wavering from Paris's quivering lip. "I didn't care by who, as long as they wanted me. I remember the parties, the envy I had at those who had an invitation to come here. I was always turned down because of a few snippy girls who hijacked the guest list from your Uncle Hershel. I know he wanted me here, but they wanted the boring cheerleaders, not those who were...a little wild." Paris's blood heated at the word. "I mean, just because I did a few pranks to them in the girl's locker room, or booed their boyfriends when I was at Hillside football games, now that's no reason to keep me from here, is it?"

Lorelai loved this feeling, of being open and passionate. Not having to hold back. If fear was in Paris's stare, it wasn't present as those blue-painted nail kept driving up her leg. She felt her pussy seem to pump with each moment with the woman, the anticipation that she was about to do something not done within that pool for years.

"I got in one though finally, and I had a blast. I had fun. What I didn't get though, was Christopher to ever do something more than silly horseplay. I wanted him to do things to me in here." Fuck! "I didn't want him to play water polo with me. I wanted him to corner me in this tub and show me how much he loved me."

"To fuck you in the water," Paris croaked out. Lorelai nodded. "You wanted him to push your bottoms aside, plunge in...and take you."

"I wanted to see his seed rise up to the water," the brunette recalled. "I wanted him to ruin me, to show me he'd do anything for me. It was a stupid dream, and very--"

Paris stopped her, breathing heavily. "Reminiscent of what I wanted Tristan or Jamie to do to me."

"You...you too?"

"I always assumed that my first time would be in this tub. In fact, I expected that it would happen. I planned it out at the end of February that I would have the Manor all to myself and I could seduce Jamie into here." She took in a deep breath. "But no. My first time ended up being in some cinder-blocked dorm room, all because I had this misguided idea that the problem with Rory was all Jamie-based and I was moving too slow. If she saw I was in a normal relationship that would make her think I was less insane. So I complied. And I now regret it."


"Yeah?" Lorelai's index brushed against the crotch of her suit bottoms.

"Your first time was a hot day in a Chilton classroom. That was just...pushing things out of the way." Lorelai's deadly glare penetrated Paris's guilt. "If you weren't into it, if it didn't feel right, or he never hit the right spot in you, I say that it was just you getting off with flesh. Nothing more."


"Paris, you had sex with him. You didn't make love to him."

"Lorelai, what are you saying?" Her throat dried as she let Lorelai push aside her bottoms without argument.

"That virginity is a damned cursed concept. It gives you all this angst, and for what? For a guy to spill into you the same way he strokes himself to a magazine? Jamie had sex with you. He loved you." Lorelai braced her hand against the wall of the tub, right over Paris. "But he didn't do more than what was required." A snarl in her voice, Lorelai was not less than truthful about her eye on everything. "How do you feel with me, baby?"

In all of her months with Jamie, he never called her by that name. She was always 'Paris' or 'P', or her least loved nickname from him, 'Gel'. Nothing more than her name, ever. She tried names with him, cute names, but they were all rejected. "Just call me Jamie," he said during one post-coital.

Lorelai dropped all pretenses with her. She was 'Par', and now she was her 'baby'. Not quite her girlfriend, but in that possessive way where Lorelai considered her to be a worthy partner in bed. It wasn't much, but for Paris, to have that validation that she was more than 'Paris', it was more than enough for her.

In Lorelai's world, she was amazing, and more than that, her 'baby'.

Paris's eyes were wide as she answered Lorelai's question, keeping it short and simple.

"I can't feel with you. There's no way to describe it."

There was no doubt; Lorelai understood clearly that Paris thought of her as much more than just a one-night stand. She felt a jolt run through her spine, feeling a surge of emotion from the girl's heartfelt words. All of her doubts were gone, as the shy young woman before her looked at her pensively, her brown eyes welcoming and drawing her in.

"So this is more?" Lorelai asked, trying to confirm her suspicions. Her breath deepened with Paris pushing back as far as she could to relax in the pool, while opening her legs, inviting the woman to fulfill her fantasy.

Paris confirmed it with two simple words.

"It's more."

Nothing else was said as Lorelai slid her hand delicately into the swimwear, pulling the article down just enough to fit her finger in. She kissed the young woman, and kept her full concentration on pleasing her lover, pushing two fingers within the space. She pressed against Paris, her tall frame fitting perfectly against the petite woman. Bracing her at the small of her back, she soothed Paris further by rubbing against her spine in circles with each stroke. Paris tipped her mouth open and allowed Lorelai to make love to her in the way she had always imagined being taken by another woman.

She enjoyed it, the pleasure and the sexual attraction that burned between them, the way Lorelai looked at her with clear blue eyes. One finger circling her hardened clit, another two inside of her. The warm water added even more to the stimuli, swirling along the bottom of her lips and heightening the sensations. Small curses, utterances and groans emanated from her throat while her confidant drew her much further out than Jamie could have ever imagined.

She wasn't idle, letting her hands and arms wander Lorelai's body, free to explore each of the woman's slim curves. Lavishing attention on her breasts with her mouth, Lorelai gasped out loud, feeling renewed that her small endowments were pleasure points to the blonde. She didn't know what drew the girl to them, but she wouldn't question it at all. Lorelai let her take in as much of her body as possible, and no part of her chest was left unkissed or groped by the time Paris finally had to reel back to take in a breath. Her body was wracked with each contraction of Lorelai's hand inside of her.

"Want this...want this so much...oh, God..." She worked her hips against Lorelai's hand, trying to bring it deeper inside of her. Lorelai pushed aside the material even further and kept the pace, staying quiet, keeping her breathing even and focusing on Paris, completely. She felt Paris was perfect, utterly beautiful, and as she pushed further and further enjoyed the pressure against her fingers, her hand...the way Paris's eyes rolled as each new wave surged through her.

"Almost there...come on...been so long since I saw you like this." She nipped Paris's lip, the rumble of her throat so raw and needing. "Come on, baby, come on."

"Yess...Lor...oh...oh..." Deeper she went, and Paris began to lose control of her senses, throwing her head back and tightening her legs together to quicken the strokes. Lorelai easily advised, stroking the girl's clit.

"So fucking wet," she growled. "I don't care if we're in water...I know you're spilling out against me." In her face, Lorelai got raw, the shrieks deepening. "You have such a tight cunt, I love doing this to you, making you lose your mind."

"Yess...yess...yess..." Her body was tight as a coil. "I'm a bad girl..."

"Very bad. I wish I was there on Monday night behind you."

"Me too..."

"I would've done much more to you, you know that?" Paris nodded shakily. "Done more than just take off the uniform. Tore it off."


"More than that, I would've taken you like this..." Faster strokes, more labored breathing. "Hitched my hand up and tore your panties off. Sucked your tits."

"I love it when you suck 'em...I wish you'd brand me."

"Later, baby. Right now, I wanna feel you cum. Ruin this tub forever with the memory that you came hard against me and my blue nails."

"Lor...fuck me."

"Fucking you..." A third finger within her slit. "You know what I'm gonna do while I'm over there?"


"I saw you...in your work overalls...once. I dreamed...about you..." She loved giving her girl these little peeks on her dream psychology.

"Shirt on?"

"A tight little one. Left nothing to the imagination." Faster.

"I would never...go tight...for anyone but you."

"Invited you in for Kool-Aid...to cool off. Rory's in the yard. Want you so bad, had to have a quickie."

Paris was warmly turned on. "Where...please?"

"Staircase...with only the side buttons undone. Shoved my hands in, pulled your panties down, felt your warm heat."


"We stood. You rubbed me through my Dukes."

"I love your legs, Lor. It's so...so...oh God."

"By the way, Par..." She got in close. "I never wear underwear when I wear jean shorts."

That was the pressure point Paris looked for. She became desperate for release. "Commando...you love it. Fuck...fuck..."

"I do. Come on, baby..."


"Yes, behind. I love watching you like this..."

She felt the pressure building higher. "Ohhhh...ohhh...ohhh..."

Lorelai encouraged her to roll her orgasm to make it more powerful and overwhelming. She knew the risks of too much physical activity in a whirlpool tub, but Paris seemed to them well enough. Gasping hard she clenched the other woman against her to push her against her as close as she could.

"Getting...there...oh man..." Paris clenched hard against her lover, her muscles overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"God, you're so wet," Lorelai said. "I can feel you. You're so slick."

"Lorelai," she begged. "Please, kiss me."

"Kiss you how?"

"Kiss me." Her eyes pleaded mercy. "It doesn't feel complete with just...you there. I want you...on my mouth."

"Of course, beautiful." Stroking faster and faster, she felt the slickness of the girl combine with tight and focused muscles trying to force out the overwhelming feeling. She nipped at Paris's bottom lip, teasing around the girl's lovely mouth, flittering busses that focused every single thought of the girl on having her release. She pushed her nose against Paris's, building the aggression with each stroke, each brush, sensing the blonde's body straighten and tighten as those contractions coursed within her.

She felt like jumble of gelatin. Her mind was completely empty as she rode the thin fingers within her. She heard Lorelai begging her on through mashed lips, working her hips in a circle. The currents in the water flowed all around her as she felt her muscles respond onto to the actions of her lover. She was no longer in control of herself, finding herself under the spell of the appropriately named woman who enchanted her like a siren. Grappling at Lorelai down near her butt, she felt both her fingers pumping in and the push of her thigh between her pussy.

"God...come on...please, make me cum, Lor. Please, please...oh shit!" She rolled her head back and forth with her body to create a rhythm with her circling pelvis. She loved how Lorelai found her pressure point, sliding out her orgasm slowly as if it was the sixth ball in a lotto machine. "Yesss....yesss...." Her toes were mashed together below, her heel held against the drain to feel the flow of the flowing water against them.

Lorelai circled faster and faster, releasing from the kiss to give Paris's vixen plenty of things to think about over the summer. Guiding the girl with her now hoarse voice, the usual caring squeak was gone, replaced with desperate want for the blonde.

"How naughty do you feel, Par? Being fucked by your best friend's mom? It's sinful, isn't it? Just so wrong, so dirty..." She kissed at her chin, moving lower, teeth brushing against hot flesh. "Having hot, nasty sex with someone you never would have considered months before." Down to her neck as Paris arched back as the other woman's thrusts moved deeper. "You have so much to learn about pleasure yet, my young underling."

"I want...to learn..."

"And you will. I will make sure that you'll be branded by me..." The kisses flittered down towards her breasts, chilled from the evaporation of the water. "That you'll know exactly why I never stayed with Christopher and only use him on occasion to remind myself of how sex with an immature jackass feels." Paris was stunned by the admission, her eyes widened as Lorelai could only laugh. "He might be Rory's father and my first, but that's it. That's all. I will never marry him. I will always fuck and run with him, because he will never settle down. He thinks he's good in bed, but let me tell you. Compared to Max, he's like that kid in the pie movie squirting in his boxers just because..." Warm breath against the hot and hardened nipple. "He saw a tit."


"You wonder why I can only fuck him when I'm drunk, that's why. Right now, we're both sober, of sound body." Faster circles, harder contractions of Paris's muscles. "You make me feel like I really wanted to when I was your age." Paris felt her heart beat faster and faster. "I really mean it when I say if I would've been able to go to my debutante ball and I saw you, we'd be in a back room with the dresses unzipped down, using our legs to friction each other off."

"Ohhhh....ohhh..." If there was anything Paris loved more, it was hearing a woman on her own dark and twisted wavelength. She loved to think cynically, and Lorelai was truly her equal. She had never had anyone in her life like her, with that morbid sense of humor and a want to make fun of the popular crowd. But she was warming to this woman, enjoying her for what she was and learning beyond what she was in her public guise.

"You make me feel young again."

"You never...aged a minute."

"Come for me, please, Par," she begged. "Make yourself spill over, that pressure on my fingers."

"I want to...want to cum..." She felt tingles from Lorelai circling her tongue around her right nipple. "Fu--ck..."

"Beautiful girl, please..."



"Ohhhh....ohhh yes, ohhh yes..." She looked the woman in the eyes. "Come on...mark me..."

"Will it make you cum?" Lorelai's breath was shallow. "I want to feel that flow."

"You will...saved myself a lot of it," she promised. "So mark me already...you fucking bitch." The insult wasn't hateful at all, and the brunette looked up into Paris's sleepy and sex-glazed eyes.

"Whatever you say..." She smirked, with her buck teeth prominent. "You slutty tease."

Before Paris could react, she felt herself pumped into harder and harder as Lorelai did indeed mark her as best as she could, in a way she knew that was buried deep down within Paris's psyche. From her observations, it took a lot for her to lose control of herself. She enjoyed the entire aspect of control, whether it was scholastically or in any other of her endeavors.


Paris found all of her control lost as her lover's white teeth clamped against her nipple. Not enough to hurt, but it was enough of a trigger. She threw her head back as she screamed into the echoes of the pool room, letting the last few strokes consume her before her muscles finally gave up the fight and made those last tight contractions against Lorelai's hand. Lorelai pressed her teeth onto and then released in a rhythm, sending both the pleasure and pain coursing through the small woman. Tenderly, she made sure that she didn't latch on too hard. Her free hand, cradled on Paris's rear, brought the girl in and out of each stroke. Looking up at Paris's face, she felt hot that she was the first to do such things in her whirlpool tub.

On her hand she felt the tight clench of the girl, and the small flow of fluid from her body. Encouraging, she begged her to spill more, seething through the request. Paris was beyond in control. Her senses were overwhelmed, body wound, her emotions all over the map. Not even last time with Lorelai had she felt an orgasm that powerful.

"Fuuuuuck...yessss...yessss....oh lorrrrd...yes....yessssss...." Her breath was rushed and deep as she hyperventilated, hoping she didn't sink beneath the surface. I wish I could see it all over her hand, she thought to herself about the large disadvantage of being taken in water. Her body was in knots as the sensations stunned through her, and Lorelai slowly eased her hand from the sensitive flesh as her body began to settle down again, slowly. Lorelai slid her hand away, placing the material of Paris's swim bottoms back over her mound and showing the consideration to move back to the other side of Paris to let her settle down without contact.

They were quiet, Paris enjoying the soft afterglow, her face beet red and her body settling against the seat and edge of the pool, shrugging her shoulders back into the water. She stared straight ahead towards a far wall of the room, focusing on the lights reflecting from above and onto the surface of the water. She felt her control return, but was still aware that the woman had taken her plan to seduce her in the tub and turned it right back upon her.

"Wow," was all she could say in a whisper, overwhelmed at exactly how Lorelai thought of her. Processing the dirty talk through her mind, her self-filter trying to get over the fact that the older woman had just admitted outside of her teenage years, the father of her child was sexually undesirable. She was sure that nobody, not even Max, knew that she thought that way of him. Never would she have pictured Lorelai Gilmore as sexually unsatisfied. She didn't think it was possible. She slumped into the pool while the woman rubbed her back to calm her once again.

More silence. She couldn't thank Lorelai with a higher compliment that seemed to be stuck on her tongue. What could she say? I'm just stunned, she thought. How does she do this to me? Reveal me without much beyond a smile and a touch? Paris couldn't believe what she said in passion, and how Lorelai ran with it.

"Paris?" Lorelai brought her hand down to the small of her back. "You alright?" Paris nodded and turned to face her, blushing from what they did in the tub.

"I...I think so." With a nervous laugh, she pushed her legs together and stretched the somewhat pushed-down bottoms back into place. "I don't even know, really."

"It's OK, hon," she assured. "I can give you time to calm down. You gave me time to rest."

"Well, it's not that," Paris assured. "Not at all." Her eyes on Lorelai, she shrugged and tried to explain her state of mind. "I'm just trying to think...who would have thought?"

Lorelai caught on it right away, wagging her eyebrows. "You're having problems with your thought processes? Then my work here is done!"

"Fuck you," Paris off-handed, rolling her eyes, warm and turgid water surrounding her. "I don't know how you did...did...that!"

"Exactly what did I do?" Lorelai asked, assured of her sexual prowess.

"I was planning on having you in here, but you turned it around on me." Pouting, she wrapped her hands around her chest. "I wanted to...well, I would have been pleased to, how would you put it kindly? I'm just kind of lost on words, and I'd rather they not be bad slang."

"You can't get around it." Smirking, the older woman let the euphemism fly in high school taunting song mode. "Youuuu wanted to goooo downnn onn meee!!"

The abrasive blonde groaned, shaking her head and wondering how exactly she managed to fall into lust for a spiritual teenager. "Maybe I did. But you'll never know now."

Lorelai shook her head, brushing her wet hair aside. "Oh, I know. You don't become a flirt without knowing strategy and redirecting it towards your own pleasure. Besides that, it might not have worked under water, and I'd rather you build up your experience before you try things like that." She clasped Paris's wrist in concern. "It's enough we're in a hot tub where strenuous activity is discouraged, but to dip yourself beneath that water, it may have worked in your mind, but in reality, it would have been fraught with problems."

Sighing, Paris conceded that her lover did happen to have a point. Even as she imagined it, being under water with her eyes closed and having to come up for air every minute would have ruined the romantic atmosphere.

"I guess you're right. Then, I guess I can't complain about being on the business end. Worked out quite well for me." She blushed, staring at Lorelai and quite pleased that the evening was turning out much better than she thought.

"Remember, you do have all night, Par." Lorelai soothed the girl's worries about not being able to reciprocate. "I don't expect a return of the favor, honest. Just being here right now is perfect enough for me."

Letting a breath release tightly, the blonde stated her fear for the evening. "I'm just glad you came at all."

Lorelai shook her head and laid a soft buss on her cheek. "I never thought of not coming."

Once again, Paris bit on the wording like she had earlier in the day at Oakenwood. With a sly little smile, the heated rhetoric of the night became even deeper.

"Oh, you will come, Lorelai Victoria. You will come more than you ever have in your life." Her arms wrapped around the taller woman, that soulful instrument that was her voice warned the innkeeper that her own pleasure was only secondary. "I would be confident in saying that by the time you leave tomorrow, you'll have been sated multiple times." She placed her hand upon the small of Lorelai's back, and before the two began to relax in relative silence within the therapeutic tub, the older woman had an appropriate response to the bold academic's declaration.

"I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

Paris nodded. "You better believe it." With that affirmation, the two rested up and calmed their bodies, preparing for whatever the rest of the late night was preparing them for. Lorelai was glad for the time for herself, while Paris was ready to prove that her intense drive was good for much more than test scores and theses.

2:15am, Media Room

As Lorelai remembered it, this time of the night was usually the time when she was in the afterglow of good sex.

When she did. Most of the time it was when she remembered why she didn't like some aspects of sex, like the whole awkward problem of trying to have her proper ration of covers.

In her past, she always remembered Christopher as being a 'hot sleeper' and that he loathed having more than a sheet on the bed, leaving her almost entirely in the cold. Max was one to take all the covers; not even leaving Lorelai with the sheet. Then a few other of her times, the other person didn't feel comfortable cuddling with her and turned away. Those were the worst, the shame she felt that someone didn't find her attractive after the orgasm.

There were even a couple of odd men who wanted her to redress after the act, to make the act of sleeping and 'sleeping' two completely different aspects. Lorelai felt comfortable in her own skin and hated when Puritan values seemed to find their way into the bedroom.

So, it was late. Lorelai expected to be naked and sweaty by that moment in time.

Instead, she was holding a young woman at her waist, talking about anything and everything, while popcorn, delivered Chinese food and a couple of cool glass bottles of Coke imported from a country which made it with the cane sugar recipe littered the room. The television was on and tuned to a talk show long ended, now airing one of those colon cleanse infomercials Lorelai loved to mock, but had no need to since she was so deep into conversation with her lover.

"I never even really thought of that. Rory was going on about train ticket prices being cheap and that they didn't ticket online, but they do."

"I always buy my Eurorail tickets in advance. It just makes more sense to have them ready to go and a seat reserved." Having travelled Europe quite a few times, Paris was giving the woman travel tips she could actually use. "I'd rather pay in pre-converted currency than having to exchange over there. They bite you in the ass if you convert at a bank there and at least you can lock in a rate before you ever get over there."

"She just doesn't understand, I don't think. I've saved a lot for this all, but in 1984 I was planning for $5,000 to be a nice amount for a trip. Now it gets me just enough, and even then we have to hostel it up most of the time."

"That's why you bring your own pillow."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Perhaps. Had a horrid room in Berlin once where you didn't need a blacklight to see...well, it was a room with a public view."

Lorelai shuddered in horror. "You got the Exhibitionist Special then?"

"It was only a few blocks from the Reichstag. They were counting on people checking them out."

"I plan none of the sort." Lorelai settled back into the lovely leather couch as Paris turned herself around. "I still can't believe you raided your father's closet for me, Par. You didn't have to do that."

"What?" Paris shook her head. "He wasn't using it anyways, and I get into it all the time. My mother always overbought for him; he's more a guy into comfort than anything else."

"So he sleeps in t-shirts then."

"Pretty much." She smiled, taking in the woman wearing things dug up from her own parent. "She usually bought him this stuff at Christmas, which he acknowledged with a 'um, that's nice, honey. Thank you?'. He wouldn't bat an eye at me giving out his never worn pajamas."

"Your mother must be crazy. I never knew that you could stockpile boxers like cans of food."

Paris giggled. "Like I said, comfort."

"Certainly better to be in clean clothes than...well I have a shirt that's been in the Jeep for four weeks. I think there are jeans in the hatch that shrunk during the winter there too. Don't exactly trust them."

"Why would you change your clothes in the middle of winter in your car?"

"I found a cute skirt shopping and wanted to show it off right away."

"And that justifies a change of clothes in your car on a cold January day?"

"I think it does."

"You are certifiably crazy, Ms. Gilmore." Paris's voice was light as she enjoyed the conversation. "I could never have the guts to pull that out."

"I was in an empty parking lot, I assure you."

"And that makes it so much better," the blonde shot back. "You do know telescopes are used for evil?"

"Eh, let the boys stare. I have the doors locked and if the sight of my booty is enough to make them have their first wet dream then I welcome the opportunity to bring them into the world."

Paris let the words swirl around in her brain for a few moments, and felt a chill run through her spine at the idea which was implanted in her mind. Visibly shuddering, she tried to block it out of her mind and move on quickly, but it was of no use. There it was in her mind, and a response had to be formed, lest her mind be haunted for the rest of the summer.

"What you're saying then is that you would love to, er, uhh...let's see here. You don't care about being ogled, or showing yourself off in public."

"Mm-hmm, that's right."

"There are no qualms about it. You'd get dressed as if nothing was happening and go through with it."

"Exactly." Somehow, Lorelai found Paris's being analytical a cute and surprising trait.

"So if I were to break this down, you're fine with someone watching you."

"That would be right," Lorelai said without hesitation, but seeing Paris shudder a bit. "Not that I would want to make the other person uncomfortable with the concept."

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable with it," Paris explained. "I just have not had the need for a public display of affection."

"It's something that has to work in certain circumstances. Just not at anytime for the hell of it." Lorelai half-smiled. "Certainly not in a circumstance with a cop nearby."

"No way." Paris took in a deep breath, still feeling incredibly relaxed two hours off from fulfillment she was still feeling throughout her body. Her eyes were sleepy, her body still warmed and somewhat damp from her after-pool shower where she and Lorelai somehow resisted the temptation to share a shower. For once, Paris was grateful to live in a home with several bathrooms to keep her from straying from her purposes of taking a cool-down shower.

Though it was far from a cool-down. "I couldn't even stand in the shower, by the way," she purred to the woman next to her. "I tried to concentrate on just the shower, but it didn't work. I kept going back to the whirlpool and..." Her face colored red while she tried to look down in order to take her focus of her sexual mind. "It was a cold shower."

"Cold?" Paris nodded. "You must still feel all wound up."

"To a certain point, I do. But I need to settle down. We both need to." Stretching against the woman, Paris let her jersey ride up, just enough to expose the bottom portion of the maroon cotton boyshorts she wore beneath it. "We had thirteen days to build this up."

"Well, more like thirteen days, and numerous messages." Lorelai's voice lowered as she began to recall some of the steamier ones that the two women exchanged in the course of their time apart. "I should have never given you my cell, Blondie. In your hands, my number is dangerous."

"So you weren't expecting that maid fantasy I came up with during my study hall 'exam'?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Lorelai scoffed at the girl. "Did you hear me leave that voicemail for you after I got home from the loan officer? I still can't believe you would come up with something like that."

"I did mention my wavering bisexual eyes, right?" Those same brown eyes scanned the innkeeper's form. "I really did appreciate the way the Independence's maid's uniforms flattered the female figure, even though they zipped rather than buttoned down. If you're smart, you will retain that dress for your employees once you open the Dragonfly."

"I knew it, you're already trying to worm your way into the inn," Lorelai joked. "You think it's too late to change from law and medicine to hospitality? You might know a few things I don't."

Paris smirked, happy to see Lorelai enjoying her humor. "I know quite a few things. Mostly of the Goofus variety where my mother plays that role."

"So I'm Gallant? I'm kind to others and say 'thank you'?"

"Lorelai, you make Gallant seem like the leader of a biker gang. Except you have that edge to you that still suggests you have that rebellious edge." She began to slide off from the sofa. "As I said, you are an amazing woman. There is no way, barring a natural disaster or Taylor going on a power trip that you won't make that place the best in the state. I even think you have a great shot at best of New England if you play your cards right."

"Right now I'm just hoping to be best in a three mile radius of Route 26. I have work ahead of me in spades once I get back." Lorelai wondered why Paris was moving away from her body. "It'll be tough."

"It'll be enjoyable," Paris responded. "Now if you don't mind..." she brushed her hair back behind her ear and looked into Lorelai's eyes. "I think that we should begin to move this into a room where I have a modicum of privacy."

"You don't want to sleep in here?" Lorelai wondered.

"I could sleep in here rather easily. That's not the issue." Smoothing out her jersey, Paris arched an eyebrow up and directed a look towards the older woman. "Anyone can sleep on a couch, especially one that cost $14,000. It's just that if we're going to...sleep, we need more room."

"So if I'm trying to understand here," Lorelai followed,  "You want to sleep with me, but you also want to sleep with me."

Paris joked with Lorelai. "You're sure you earned a college degree?"

"Oh, I did. I also graduated magna cum laude from the school of hard knocks." Rising slowly, Lorelai tried to rationalize how the evening was going. "So you're not going to make me leave right now?"

"I'm afraid that I'm unable to let you do that," Paris answered with unhidden desire as she opened the door. Internally, her nerves were on edge and hoping that Lorelai wasn't planning to avert from what she wanted to happen. "Although you can if you want."

"Now why would I do that?" Lorelai smiled at Paris and walked towards her lover, unable to let her eyes waver from the seductive blonde. "I don't think I could after our midnight swim."

"Because you're afraid, Lorelai." Smirking, she did a heel-to-toe walk out into the hallway. "Afraid that I'm too cocky, that I won't live up to my promise that you will come tonight."

Shuddering, Lorelai closed her eyes as the claim was repeated for the third time that evening. Nobody had ever made the promise of her orgasming at all, and for good reason, since Chris's idea of a cum was spilling into her, while Max was overly cerebral and worrisome to make sure she did feel good even when she didn't get to her peak. None of her other partners attempted to make the same claim, beyond a couple of dud dates back in her early days at the Inn.

The confidence in Paris's words struck something within her though. It wasn't as if she had any doubts, judging from how wonderful their first two times were. But for Paris to make such a declaration wasn't at all like her. In her time knowing the girl, Lorelai knew Paris as shy, not the bold woman assertive with her sexuality she was this evening.

"Oh, I'm afraid?" Lorelai purred, walking in step with the petite girl. "Why would I be afraid of an orgasm? I mean it's just a physical reaction to tensioned stimuli. Nothing more than that."

"I guess you didn't sleep through sex ed." Paris shook her head towards the woman and felt herself pull closer. "You're just afraid of ceding any kind of control, Ms. Gilmore."

The other woman scoffed. "I am not!"

"Lorelai, you held back in the classroom. I could tell." Paris sighed and stared dead-on in Lorelai's eyes. "Do I need to mention the fridge?"

"You were willing to go for that!" Suddenly Lorelai felt herself in confrontational mode. "Look, I've paid my penance and made my mistakes. I love being in control of my destiny. Anything wrong with that?"

"Obviously not, for I'm the same way." Lorelai found herself backed down the hall. "I don't know how many times I got myself off to my authority figures. Ms. Peters, my paper advisor...God, she's just so delicious. I would leave a few mistakes in drafts just so she could bend over and correct them and I could take in her scent." The hotelier found herself gulping as she found that Paris fretting over the cashbox return full force. "I love thinking about women, how they make love. The sounds they make, the way they orgasm, how they meld against each other so perfectly." She backed Lorelai towards a door while the other woman's breaths deepened. "The length of time especially gets to me, how we can stretch lovemaking into hours, slide into thighs fast or slow, even get off fully clothed and not come off as ruffled in the end."

"Oh my God..."

"I even remember how I felt when you caught the girls sneaking away from the concert and the way you yelled at them. You never knew this, Lor, but when you told them to move their asses..." She cornered the older woman against the door. "I was staring at yours." She grinned and slid her hand down Lorelai's side until it was at the bottom of her thigh.

Then she moved it up slowly, flustering her partner for the evening. "The thing is, I've always known that I bend towards the right of the Kinsey scale. I've always thought of myself as a four, deeply attracted to women but able to allow myself room to take in the opposite sex. If Tristan would have stayed in my life I know I might have stuck near three, even and a definite bisexual, drifting towards two. But he's gone. I stayed a four all through my time with Jamie. There was no exception or anything pushing me back towards the left; I still found women more attractive towards men."

"Did you feel like a zero after your first time?" Lorelai wondered aloud, her question coming out in a rushed gasp. "You don't remember it well."

"Again, I did it to see what it was like. It was incredibly disappointing." Shrugging, Paris brought her point back towards the present day. "I see you as a definite two, but with a possible pull towards a three. You're a casual bisexual, Ms. Gilmore."

"So you think you can turn me then." Lorelai smiled. "I just haven't found the right woman I don't think. Not until now."

"I've never even told anyone that I'm bi," Paris confessed, her free hand moving towards the doorknob. "It sets up all kinds of awkwardness, like I wouldn't mind a ménage, when really I'm definitely one into one-on-one sex. My mind never pictures multiple partners, for instance. Even in my time with Louise as a kissing partner, she was in that two category, but as a 2.0." The door opened as she spread out the intellectual dirty talk. "I knew she loved the cock and I couldn't turn her, but we understood about that. I still am, and we both remember it well. We have to figure out what we are in the world, and I was happy to have her as my guide into finding out where I stand."

"I can just imagine," Lorelai said in response, before pausing to reconsider her statement and drawing her words out slowly. "Not that I have." She flushed from her embarrassment as Paris smiled eagerly in her direction, turned on and looking to outdo the adult in her own seduction.

"So in your dreams we are exclusive?" She slid her hand from the knob and took Lorelai's hands into hers, looking up at the woman. "Or perhaps you're telling me you wouldn't mind watching."

Didn't she just say..."But you just said you don't like three-ways."

"I know I did." She let her hand go to move at Lorelai's waist and along the waistband of the boxers. "But I also have to note that I like to watch too. I'm not into threesomes, but I certainly would never mind if I was either participating, or watching someone make love with another woman." She pushed against the door to open it. "Technically if you're just watching two people have sex, it's not a threesome situation."

Biting at her bottom lip with her front teeth, the brunette began to realize what Paris was doing to her. She felt tight all around, her temperature heating up, pores opening as her body felt the need to perspirate from the sexual stress she was experiencing. There was a response on the tip of her tongue to her lover's declaration of how she saw certain situations, but the words were unable to escape her larynx. All she could do was stand stunned as Paris tapped the door open with only the slightest touch of her finger. The blonde tossed her hair back and directed a smile towards the other woman, whose eyes were glazing over in deep lust.

"It has to be the right woman though. Not just anyone."

"Louise?" Lorelai wondered. Paris shook her head.

"She's more in my singular fantasies. I still use the image of her stroking her clit when I need some release of my stress. No, it can't be a good friend. They have to be sort of distant, someone you really don't know that well but can imagine wanting to do that. I don't really know anyone that we'd probably share a knowing of, so for now, I think we're perfect just indulging in each other. Exploring..." She brushed up closer to Lorelai to pull at her wrist. "Being passionate. I'm not really in the mood to share my toys."

"So you just want me?"

"Lorelai..." she paused to look into the woman's shining eyes, full of the clarity she never found with Max that this was more than right. "I feel like you're more than one woman. You have so many facets that adding somebody else would just be diluting you, your essence." Her words soft and caring, she fumbled for a remote to turn on a lamp elsewhere in the room to its dimmest setting. "I'm overwhelmed that you'd find me beautiful, worthy enough to be with you. I'm not myself around you and all day I've felt like I couldn't live up to how I pictured everything about this night going."

With her foot she shut the door, then turned Lorelai so she walked backwards. "It's already gone beyond anything I ever imagined. We had a wonderfully deep and fulfilling conversation, shared some fun in the pool and given me enough memories that I know I can look back and remember this as a wonderful moment in my life." Her voice cracked as she felt the emotion get to her. "Whatever the definition of what we have is, I don't know. It could be just an affair, friends with benefits, something we both just plain needed before we go our separate ways in the next few days. But I do know one thing..." She measured her steps until she knew Lorelai was where she wanted her to be. Looking at the woman in the sexually alluring male bed attire, she was turned on, with the boldness she had long hidden finally overwhelming the 'queen bitch' she always came off in at Chilton. The part of her life she wanted to live, but in the shadow of Madeline and Louise, Francie, any of the cheerleaders at Chilton, and especially Rory, she was afraid to bring out. Her tender and soft, yet sexual side had been awakening in the last month and finally pushed into her all the way within the whirlpool.

Lorelai then realized by the space of her surroundings where she was before she felt pressure against her hips pushing her backwards. She lost her footing almost immediately, with Paris moving closer to her. For a moment she was in a state of panic as she was afraid she would knock her head into the floor.

Then Paris spoke. "I didn't let Jamie in here with me, ever. We never did anything in the Manor. It didn't work. I felt a pang of regret the moment I ever thought of the idea. But here, tonight, with you...it's perfect. It works."

Lorelai found herself lying on a cloud of softness. With the dimmest of light guiding her, she looked straight ahead over Paris. A moment of panic rose up through her soul. Everything began to hit, the ramifications of where she was, who she was with, and finally how she thought she had taken advantage of her.

She tried to only think her next words. But they rushed through her throat and into the echoes of the space which was as spacious as her entire second floor at home.

"We're in your room." The confidence of usual had melted away to be replaced with uncertainty that she was taking things in the right direction.

"Yes, we are." Paris was less hesitant about her assessment.

"We are...in your room." She settled onto the bed, sliding up the mattress. "Your bedroom."

"We have now established that in both contracted and uncontracted words, yes."

Shaking her head, Lorelai felt all those doubts she pushed behind her fantasies, those doubts she pushed away in the afterglow and support she showed for the girl after she ended it with Jamie. Her eyes narrowed as Paris eased herself onto her body. She didn't want to be this way around Paris at all, knowing the girl would take her doubts as an extreme rejection without any explanation.

She looked away, towards the computer area of the bedroom, where everything was turned off. The television which had been in front of Paris's bed during her sitting Shiva for Harvard was off to the side in a corner, suggesting the only thing ever done in the space was studying and sleeping. She felt as if she was intruding, rather than feeling invited.

Immediately Paris noticed the aversion and fears. She crawled onto the left side of the bed and laid against Lorelai, encouraging her to turn around but finding it hard for her to convince Lorelai to do so.

"Lorelai." She called the woman's name. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong," she responded with her voice betraying her alleged emotion. "I'm fine."

"You're sure?" She placed her hand on Lorelai's stomach. "Suddenly you seem a bit down."

"I'm not." She shrugged to turn around and pull down the blankets on the bed. "It's just...I'm really OK. I'm fine. It's just that...that..." She couldn't bring herself to voice her doubts.

"What is it? I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I just...I don't want you to hate me."

"Why would I think that?" Paris couldn't think of mustering anything near hate from the older woman. Her voice raised an octave as she tried to get to the bottom of Lorelai's doubts. "Lor, I think I know what this is about."

"Paris, you--"

She brought out her editor's tone. "No." Lorelai clammed up instantly. "I knew what this step in the evening was going to lead to." She sat up on the bed and kept her full attention on the innkeeper. "I went through this same situation two weeks ago, remember?"

"But you didn't say anything about it."

"I thought about it before finally realizing, do I care?" She smiled at her lover and placed her right on top of Lorelai's left. "Would it have mattered if I was afraid to sleep in your bed, with or without you?"

"Yes, but this is different," Lorelai clarified. "I sleep in that bed all the time as an adult. This is your childhood bed. Where you did childhood things, hon. That gives me a bit of pause here and it's like I'm going to be the first one in here to make it shake and everything."

Paris then smirked and shook her head, giggling softly before she began to clarify what situation Lorelai was exactly in. "You're kidding me, right?"

"But it is, you had all your kid moments here--"

"You really think that this is the same bed I've had since I was two?" The girl decided to give Lorelai a bit of history. "I have had four beds in my lifetime; two of them have long been either donated to a worthy cause or disposed of because God forbid the Consumer Product Safety Commission have something to worry about beyond serviceable beds besides...you know, dangerous car seats. The third bed meanwhile was one of those memories I couldn't deal with in the wake of Harvard rejecting me. I mourned within it, barely moved in it, cried and anguished on that mattress. And in that week I realized something."

"You can't sleep more than eight hours on the dot in it?" Lorelai cracked a small smile and Paris rolled her eyes.

"Besides that, it was too small. When my mother bought it for me when I was ten, I was still a child in the physical sense of the word. She still thought that I believed children came via stork and that I'd sleep on anything with a pillow and a blanket. After eight years, I just couldn't anymore. My back hurt every day from Chilton and I'd wake up with it still sore. After day five of my isolation, I was just plain sick of it and I was down to actually watching Maury. Let me repeat that again; I, Paris Gellar, was stuck watching Maury Povich make his legendary sportswriter father regret his advice to follow him into the news, just so he could watch his flesh and blood host a talk show in the former grand ballroom of a declining railroad luxury hotel, doling out paternity test to mothers who really should have no need to procreate, while their alleged fathers hem and haw that they should not pay child support. They celebrate when they are told the tests come out negative, then slump in tears if it turns out that their seed somehow made its way into the mother in some God knows how depraved sexual act they performed with each other and turned into a poor child who has to be stuck projected from a back room onto a JumboTron to remind us that yes, these people are going to raise a child whose paternity was argued about in the venue of a lunchtime talk show on Channel 20..."

Lorelai took in the overly complicated rant, loving how Paris could take the concept of 'you are not the father!' and expand it much further than intended into a worthy social commentary that drew in almost anybody. Even if on first glance she seemed to be one to only take in the broad details, Lorelai did enjoy history and oddly recognized the history of the Hotel Pennsylvania, whose current management she was definitely trying not to emulate as far as managing the Dragonfly. She seemed to turn red with each new argument and before long it had become a focused diatribe on how she would rather watch an educational science program but was stuck on a daytime talk show.

"OK, you can breathe now, Par," she quipped at the end, moving closer to the girl and thanking her for the educational lesson. "You had a point about the bed being too small and it seemed to be buried when you began to rant about the rise of horrible SR-22 car insurance ads."

Paris cringed, letting her head fall as she realized how off-topic she was from her point. I'm so off topic I'm seeing Côte d'Ivoire right now, she thought. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, you need to get those rants out," Lorelai said to her, rubbing her back. "But I'm sure you had a point to this."

"I did. What was it..." Paris thought for a moment about what she originally wanted to say. "It was about the bed, right?" Lorelai nodded. "The bed, the bed...umm."

The light bulb turning on was delayed, mainly since Paris's eyes seemed to be stuck on Lorelai's cleavage being apparent within the pajama top and looking particularly alluring. Finally she found the point, feeling like an idiot for having to take so long to get to it.

"That's right." She shook her head. "The bed was too small, I was watching that horrid show and a 1-800-Mattress ad came on. Suddenly I was laying there, my back was hurting and the commercial spokeswoman was talking about back pain and how it would be cured by new bedding. Usually, I wouldn't even bat an eye. Six days off being rejected by my dream college?" She rolled her eyes. "Let it be known that most children of our wealth bracket would rebel by buying a fast car or throwing a huge party which required several police departments to get back under control. Me? I call a mattress in an hour place, whip out the AMEX and quickly become the owner of a $3,500 TempurPedic bed because I need to spend money on something."

Lorelai was resisting the urge to tease Paris. For her own safety, she remained neutral and held back that in her mind she was imagining the blonde yelling into the phone for a better mattress. "You bought...a bed?"

"I bought a bed." She looked down at the large queen-sized mattress beneath her bought under duress. "I also spent $2,000 more on the frame and bedding after I realized that sleeping on a bare bed sitting on the floor wasn't an option. Nanny had to keep her hand in mine at Bed, Bath and Beyond and Nordstrom because she knew I'd probably go on some insane shopping spree if I was unleashed outside the home department. It was not my proudest moment to lay five large...on a bed. Which don't get me wrong, I really enjoy, it was worth every penny and oh my God, this is what I picture Heaven as probably feeling like. But really, I bought a bed."

"There's nothing wrong with a bed." Lorelai curled up next to the girl, resting her chin on Paris's shoulder. "Even a bed like this, it's cool to be all 'fuck Harvard' and decide you saved all this money for room and board, so if they don't want it you'll spend it on something to benefit yourself. It's a nice bed..." She bounced the surface a couple of times with her rear. "Very nice, probably that fancy space-age memory foam stuff in the bed, so it's awesome. Plus I hate to say it but it's made you less irritable to deal with, babe."

"You're saying I've been better since I got it?" Paris was pleased to be complimented for her choice. "I feel happier, really. Less stressed out when I get up. It's like...I don't know how to describe it. The first night I slept I got to the seventh snooze cycle before I dared to get up. Usually the second snooze is the limit for me."

"Hear me out here," Lorelai began. "I think that in your own way, which might be seen by others as Howard Hughes crazy, this was something you did to assert your independence. To tell the world that you were done being a HarvardBot and that you were going to go your own way from now on and let your heart do what it wanted." She carefully stroked Paris's hair and moved in closer to the girl, her first reaction to Paris's confession long disappeared beneath empathy. "For so long you labored under the assumption that you'd be in Cambridge in two months. When that didn't pan out, you coped in your own way. You sealed yourself off, mourned, did what you had to do to deal with it. If that includes buying a new bed, so be it. It's just a bed. You acted appropriately. A little exorbitant, as I would have just gone to Mattress Matthew's off Route 1 and got the $199 special, but hey, you have a high IQ. You need the big money bed to keep that cute little brain of yours in top gear."

Paris groaned. "You did not just call my brain cute."

"I'm sorry, but I did." She laughed and took in Paris's post-shower scent of baby powder and lavender. "It's cute because it didn't short circuit and decide to go an extreme place. It went with economic rebellion instead of urging you to head to the nearest viaduct, join the local tagging team and literally painting the town red. Because somehow, I think you have no skill whatsoever with a spray paint can. You wouldn't want to be anywhere near one because you'd probably take one whiff of the fumes it puts out and reconsider your new life as an urban artist."

"I'm pleased to know your imagination creates interesting situations for me."

"Well I try." The two women began to move into the same intimate embrace they were quickly perfecting. "So, with all of this, I guess I should finally respond to my point that I'm afraid to make love to you in your childhood bed."

"You should. Because this isn't. I've been an adult in the entirety of this bed's usage." Her voice husked as she began to move from being cerebral to sexual. "I haven't yet done anything adult in this bed, however, with a willing partner at least."

"I would hope you've done adult things in the singular sense," the hotelier whispered, all that unease beginning to melt away. "This bed just cries out to be used for much more than just a good sleep."

The student's voice took a dangerous tenor. "What are you suggesting that I've done in here all by myself? Hopefully nothing untoward."

"Oh, not at all. But I know you probably ate crackers in the bed. That's pretty naughty right there, Par. Only bad girls would do that." They moved closer once again, Paris's hand moving towards Lorelai's waist.

"I haven't brought food anywhere near here. I don't seem to be the right kind of hungry when I'm in here."

"You have a hunger?"

"Oh, very much," she purred, her legs twisting around the other woman. "For the last month I've been really hungry."

"You must be starved then. Not having that one special treat for two weeks."

"I made do," she asserted. "That finger massager received plenty of use where it needed to be." Her other hand nested in Lorelai's hair. "You know when you feel it best?"

"I don't know."

"Pressing your legs together until all that can fit are two fingers. One to circle, one to manipulate within your walls." Lorelai clenched at the mental picture. "There was even a couple times I experimented and let another finger drift up into the back to add just a smidge of pressure...oh my, is it divine to just scrape a fingernail along it."


"I laid lengthwise on the bed, pushing it in and out, in and out. I had to be careful lest it disengage from my finger but I kept it tight most of the time. I couldn't help but drive myself slowly, remembering the feel of your hands, of your finger, even how your thigh pushes against me." She closed her eyes, flushing from her mirage. "Do you know what you do to me, Lor? How much I've gone from having to keep my sexual thoughts hidden to being allowed to share them with you?"

"You've built them up, baby."

"So many years, they're all coming out with you." Now she straddled the other woman and they were centered on the bed. "I would have never thought a month ago of doing this with anybody."

"I can't believe you're letting me in on so many secrets," Lorelai confessed. "I feel like I know you more than anybody who went to school with you for twelve years."

Paris had her own revelation. "I feel like I can finally get in touch with my true self with you. I always thought my sexuality ran towards the older portion of the scale, but I didn't act. It seemed too weird to me to have an attraction to someone twice my age."

"I never thought I'd be attracted towards you."

"The same here." Paris felt bold, pushing her leg against Lorelai's hot core. "I can't stop thinking about you." Their breaths deepened, the heat building up between them.

"Then stop thinking, and do," Lorelai dared bravely. "Do what you want to do."

"What do you want me to do," Paris asked? Would you like me to do this..." She dug her thigh in against the dampening boxers and Lorelai hissed in reaction.

"Not...now...shit..." Lorelai reacted and attempted to pull away. She wanted something more than to use the blonde as something to hump against.

"So you don't want that." Paris smiled and pulled her hands away, only to let her hands grasp the hem of the wrinkled soccer jersey. "I know what you want, Ms. Gilmore." Sliding it up each inch slowly, Lorelai watered in anticipation with each new inch of exposed skin. She couldn't help but stare when the girl's flattering maroon-striped boyshorts came into view. They fit the girl like a well-worked glove, flattering her ass in ways Lorelai never fathomed.

"Those look better than your two-piece," she said, with Paris then placing a finger to her mouth to quiet her.

"I know they do," she acknowledged. "Now you must hush. I've been imagining this since that morning that was rudely cut off by reality." Turning the shirt inside out as she rolled it up her body, Paris felt warm anticipation building. Lorelai's eyes went to her belly and then moved to her bust. She circled her hips to create a rhythm, a move learned from YWCA aerobics she loved to take advantage of. Moles dotted her form, small freckles. Unlike with Jamie she had no fear of the examination on the other woman's part. Lorelai's only interest was undressing her lover and making her feel like a whole different woman. Not at all the nervous Paris of old, this girl was now a woman who knew what she had, and how to lure.

Let Andy...Albert...Alex? Aw, heck, let FishGuy keep his...fishing or whatever. I think I've been caught...oh yes, I've bitten and I won't let go.

The shirt was above Paris's breasts and Lorelai was stunned by the very sight of them. She wanted to bash Jamie's head into a pole for even thinking they weren't worthy as she stared in a trance at the young woman. Her mind had taken in the shape and definition of both of them, remembering the feel and shape of each of them, and of how Paris responded to her touch in a very sensitive manner. She kept staring, her hands at her sides, resisting the temptation to touch.

"Beautiful," she mouthed as Paris pulled the soccer jersey over her head and tossed it carelessly onto the post next to her where it draped down. Static from the material caused her hair to fly in several directions. She pulled it back, only letting Lorelai into a few movements of her eye. She sat on the bed forming herself into the memory material of the mattress, crossing her legs campfire style, relaxing in the silence of her guide scanning her body. She was flushed, a little of her Jewish guilt making sure she remained ever embarrassed about something despite the woman sending sexual daggers throughout her body.

Slowly she reinsulated Lorelai into nothing else but enjoying her, moving in and placing her hands on Lorelai's face as she began to instigate a slow and lingering kiss that seared the woman's synapses. At first it was just soft and slow but it began to quickly drift into a teasing buss as she tested the woman further. They became aggressive towards each other slowly, letting themselves guide themselves without any kind of timing. The intimacy they shared was close, with the blonde surprising the brunette by learning from the kisses of before. Lorelai closed her eyes to take in the one sense of touch, heating up in the small area they shared.

The pressure between them heightened with each new kiss. Tongues tangling, hands wandering, and Lorelai began to feel in almost a laying position with only her feet keeping her up. Paris fisted the fabric of the pajama shirt as she began to feel the need to divest, but controlled herself for her own good. She released as she let a trail of combined saliva fall from the corner of her mouth, wiping it with her arm, her brown eyes filled with heavy desire and want. She was far gone, everything about her given mores slipping away with each new buss. Lorelai pressed against her with her breasts. She looked at Lorelai and placed her hands along the middle of the shirt to quickly unbutton it.

Before she could, Lorelai stopped her with a smoky gaze.

"Your father has many more of these," she suggested. Nodding, she made Paris understand what she was alluding to.

Paris smiled, quickly finding the track and tightening her fists around each side of the article of clothing. "Just don't complain when you need to borrow a safety pin in the morning."

"When Rory's away for a weekend..." Lorelai whispered, another fluttering kiss shared. "I don't wear a thing at all." Her hands moved towards Paris's hips as she lay on the bed. Breath deepening, her eyes did not show any more fear at all. She wanted to instigate, to feel herself let go. Remembering the fire in the kitchen, she wanted to see how the blonde was when she was wild and free herself. "I drink milk right out of the jug as I let the fridge cool my body off on a hot day. Air conditioning isn't needed when the only thing cooling me is those pores God gave me and a fan."

"No kidding me?" Paris was still a bit skeptical. "What if someone comes to the door?"

"Robes at the doors on each side of the house."

"Have it all planned out then, eh?" She pulled the shirt apart a bit to test the tensile strength of the buttons. "Do you touch yourself?"

"How else can I arouse the sweat?" She shook her hair out.

"Do you touch yourself to me?"

Lorelai nodded. "You know what I do when I think about you in my bed?"

"Hmm?" Paris moved in closer, predatory, ready to cross that final line.

"Nothing but knee socks." Lorelai opened her legs up to entice Paris against her. "Hair over your breasts and touching yourself with your left hand. The uniform...all over the place, panties and skirt at your feet."

"Damn." Paris found her mind overwhelmed by the image, that thin tether of control breaking apart. "All this from looking at me naked twice?"

"That's just a summary." Lorelai dared to flirt with the fringe of the girl's panties. "I memorized. I know how you look from head to toe. I know how wet you get, how your face tightens up with you hit orgasm. How you smell, how you taste..." She dipped a finger through the leg of the silk article. "I know how you scream and how you have that little shiver of anticipation when I move within an inch of moving inside of you."

She was playing with fire as her manicured fingernail lingered slowly against the cleft of her rear. "I know things about you from the way you fuck that even your doctor would never know, young lady. How you come off as wanting to be controlled, but you love losing it. And then when you get to move to the other side of the coin, you process me as open and willing to do whatever you want. I'm clay in your hands."

Paris smiled, enjoying how Lorelai saw her instead of just the bitch everyone else saw her as. Lorelai saw her as more than that.

To her, she was a woman. But more than that, she was a lover.

"One more small thing you know about me," she teased. "Tell me one thing no one else has ever noticed unless they look very closely." She wanted to test to see if Lorelai had truly memorized her all.

Lorelai's eyes were upon Paris. She fluttered her eyelashes and with a casual smile, told of the one thing Jamie had missed in the eight months he had been able to call Paris his.

"You have a blue tattoo of a star on your right ankle," she stated confidently. "What it's for, I don't know. But it had to be from something where you felt a rebellious mood. Like...the divorce of your parents?"

Paris couldn't believe it. She does really know all of me. She had to catch her breath to realize that she was falling for the woman below her more and more with each new facet opened up to her.

She moved her right hand down to the waistband of the boxers, pulling the material down just enough down Lorelai's hip to expose the brunette's own dirty little secret. An observer herself, she felt emboldened as she used only her left hand to tear open the pajama shirt from the front, buttons flying all over the place as Lorelai shrieked happily, giggling softly as Paris's deep browns reflected the happiness lurking within the deep passion of the moment they shared.

Paris bit on her lip before making her long-held observation, her fingers pushing aside the boxer material and feeling along the sensitive skin which treaded a line which Lorelai had long literally let grow fallow until the beginning of her new and burgeoning affair. Lorelai held her breath tightly in surprise.

"Eighteenth birthday for you, I would surmise. The age and the circumstances suggest it." She pulled the silk boxers down further, looking up to take in her lover's reaction. "I would have never guessed that you would have gotten something like it."

"Is it appropriate?"

"For you, it is the only possible word I would ever associate with you." Her eyes stayed on the exact spot. "Libre."


"And nobody else knows."

Lorelai shook her head. "Almost nobody." She cleared her throat. "I purposely placed it there so it was of only my knowledge and possibly that of someone intimate. If Max knew, he never said a word."

Paris traced the shape. "Amor libre. Too literal, but you don't need to be complex. The message is simple, yet it says so much." The fingernail scraping in the shape of a heart, Lorelai felt the need to lightly grasp at the mattress. "You revealed this, to me."

"Well, it was more for comfort when I head overseas, but...a little bit of this baring my heart played into it."

"Your heart is beautiful, Ms. Gilmore." Paris lowered her mouth to the small heart brushing just outside the right of the older woman's bikini line, colored red, outlined in black and with the nine small letters in a seriffed script meticulously crafted in March 1986. She kissed it, letting her tongue run along the slightly dampened lips. A corner of her mouth nipped playfully at her slit, and then she lifted back up. "You truly are beautiful." She moved back up to take off the pajama shirt from the woman while Lorelai wriggled the shorts off from her hips to kick them down.

"We all have secrets," she intoned deeply. "We all have needs and desires."

"We do." Her hands trailed the shirt down the woman's arms. "Your secrets are waiting to be unlocked, aren't they?" She felt bold, turned on, deeply out of her usual element and ready to take charge of her own destiny when it came to her heart. "I may be half your age, but I know that we're sharing something with each other that makes these numbers irrelevant."

"God, I love your million dollar words, baby." The final portion of the shirt came off, leaving Lorelai nude again, this time fully open and willing for the young woman above her to make love to her. "I think of you as Par. That's all. No number, no age, nothing more but you."

"For something that seems so physical, we're putting a lot of emotions into this," Paris observed. "I need you to just promise one thing to me before I go forward." She wanted to break down the big fear in the room. The one Rory complained about all the time.

"What's that?" Lorelai was ready to face the music.

"We both talk. We both let things between us evolve. Whatever this summer brings, the uncertainty and distance that will keep us apart." She pulled Lorelai close to her, reveling in the woman's soft and moist skin. "I want to take this as far as possible. When you leave in the morning you're free--"

"Paris?" Lorelai stopped her with a serious look. "I cannot promise I might change my mind about us in Europe. What I can do is tell you that this will not be the last time we ever see each other. I would rather be here than anywhere else."

"I'd rather be here too," Paris confessed. "I wish you didn't have to leave."

"But you still respect me for what I do." Paris nodded. "I cannot promise I might change my mind, but I can tell you that I think of you highly. You make me feel young, wanted and beautiful. Paris...if this is the last time that we ever do see each other, like this." Her lip quivered as she felt emotions well up, tears falling. "I am not...I know that we both are not in this for those three words. Right now, they are not in play. But if this is it..." She cried. "I would thank God that you were the last person who made love to me."

Paris's heart beat picked up. She couldn't believe the confession of the other woman. She felt ever more emboldened and desired. In the space of a month, she had gone from being 'doting girlfriend' to 'dirty little secret'. In other circumstances that would have made her feel ashamed.

With Lorelai Gilmore in her arms, that was not the term to be used.

She saw clear blue eyes filled with want and need. She felt taut muscles in the innkeeper's back, took in the unfiltered scent of her desire. In her hands, she felt the coolness of her arousal, the small dampened drops upon her fingerprints. Her heart pounding, the soft sound of her breath. The soft texture of her legs, the heft of her breasts, the beautiful words she spoke.

Paris didn't see Lorelai as 'Rory's mother' any longer. In every sense except that sealed up in the three words, she was Lorelai's lover.

A finger days before which had felt the parchment of her diploma circled softly against the erect flesh of Lorelai's clit. Her lips were plump and damp. The only thing keeping the two women from the basest of needs was a cotton barrier soaked from how aroused the student was for the woman who dared to direct her thinking elsewhere in all senses.

Lorelai gasped as the circle stroke shocked through her system. Then she opened her eyes and saw Paris round her tongue around her mouth.

"You will not leave until two in the afternoon," she commanded. Lorelai nodded. "And you will not leave this bed until you've not only slept your stress away, but fucked it out of your system." She felt incredibly bold. "You are not anyone else's person. Not your mother's, not your daughter's, your father's." She moved down. "Your daughter made her goal. She's going to Harvard. I did not make my goal. I'm headed to Yale." One kiss upon each nipple, a suckle and a nip, which caused Lorelai's blood sugar to plunge for a small moment. "You're Lorelai Gilmore. You are you." Kisses down her middle. "You are sexual." Closer kisses. "You are beautiful." Long blonde locks trailed across the woman's torso. "The love I will make with you will be true, uncorrupted, and between only the both of us."

Her mouth quivered as she lowered herself to the other woman's entrance. "I know that I don't seem to be much for romance, but I enjoy being this way. Secretive and serene only around you. Whatever happened on that afternoon to draw me towards you, I still have no idea why. But I do know that I want to see how beautiful you are when the only thing you have to worry about is how much you want to let yourself go with me."

"Par..." She looked down, bottom lip quivering, her eyes almost iridescent. "I don't want you to hold back at all. I'm yours."

The understanding was made. Eye to eye, the former adversaries had found their final ground. Not involving the girl between them, but with each other. There was no turning back. Paris lowered her mouth to her lover's dampened mound without another word.

A month ago she would have never pictured being so intimate with Lorelai.

A month ago, Lorelai paid no mind to any attraction to the blonde hellfire.

In that indeterminate period of time, the woman began to finally feel the heft of her eighteen years of sacrifice lift from her shoulders while the younger woman took her to an ecstasy she thought she would never find. She was no longer lost or just content on her former experiences of sex. Comfortable as Paris took her slowly and languidly, she felt the push and pull of each action, the passion of the girl to leave her mark upon her with each new kiss, touch, nip, brush. Her eyes looked beyond the surface of the innkeeper and she used her nose to trace the vivacious woman's freckles into her own personal constellations, describing them in ways that even if she didn't understand, Lorelai was still in awe over.

Feeling Paris's weight upon hers, she no longer saw any doubt coloring the graduate's spirited brown eyes. She felt the trace of the girl's fingernails along her skin, the lathing of her bud to tease further. Her voice groaned with each contraction, her body tightening upon the mattress. Her hands took in Paris's torso, her classical hips and her thick thighs. She found not one blemish to criticize, especially hearing the girl command her to slowly let everything out. So much stress had built up in her since the fire and her reluctance to see anyone for treatment of her anger and doubts over the situation had built up over the last four months.

She was letting it go. With each new brush of Paris's tongue against her, Lorelai felt her harried stress seem to melt away.

"Ohhh...ohhh...yeahhh..." Her eyes tightened closed as she basked in the deep emotions of the last few hours. She found that Paris was not one to stay on a well-worn track at all as she pleased her. She kept switching up the way she made love to the woman, not staying in one direction for long, pausing, looking up and trying to find if she was still in ecstasy. She also continued the dirty talk further, her self-censor almost completely melting away around the Child of Shame. Soft puffs of air against her cleft, drifting into the back, she quivered as the blonde above her obliterated all traces of the nervous girl with the Jaguar who had first visited her house two years ago.

She felt more open in that moment with the blonde student than she ever did with Christopher, opening her defenses and knowing that if she had not found a lover, she had at least found a new friend in life who would allow her a shoulder and the opportunity to vent about anything without reprisal. The idea of having a friend in Paris Gellar was likely odd to everyone else, but she saw so much of herself in her. Someone who used humor and cynicism to shield her soul and had vulnerabilities she never revealed to anybody.

Lorelai couldn't even think of anybody else, about the complications she knew were coming in the future, the many roadblocks that were sure to ensue. They were not only on the back burner, but behind the range like a novelty chicken egg timer that fell behind it long ago.

All that mattered in that moment was the connection she felt with Paris, nothing more. The long wait between their last meeting only heightened the feelings she had for the young woman. She felt no guilt any longer, any fears that it was wrong. She felt herself let go as the blonde seemed to find her points of arousal, slowly experimenting with both her hands and her lips.

"I'm gonna try something here," Paris said, moving her mouth above her lover's slit. "Tell me if this feels good to you. Just be honest." She rubbed her hands in a circular motion below Lorelai's stomach while kissing the flesh at the same time. Pressing her palm softly against the flesh, she used her hands to open up the clit to full view and began to suckle at the erect tissue with her lips and tongue while pressing her hand against the pubic bone.

"Christ, Par!" She felt a jolt though her spine immediately as the combined sensations pressed against her. "Shit!" She lifted her mouth, and then moved up.

"Obviously I've hit a nerve," she declared sweetly with a raspy laugh as Lorelai reached her arms to hold the headboard with a light grip. "Plenty of nerves, actually."

Lorelai hyperventilated. "Never...felt that...before."

"Love that?" Lorelai nodded. "Bet you feel a nice bit of pressure down there, right?" Another nod. "I bet I can do something else." She challenged herself silently.

"What are you going to do--"

"Let yourself go, baby. Just let your muscles fully release and focus all your energy down there." Her voice became a soothing whisper. "This isn't going to go so fast, so don't prepare yourself to cum right away."

"Torture me?"

"That's why your secret name for me is 'tease'." She felt the confidence of bringing Lorelai to orgasm build up within her and bound herself to that goal. She positioned herself so her rear was straight up in the air, an alluring position in the other woman's view, along with the curtain of hair surrounding the academic's face.

Along with that devastating smirk. Paris's smile when she was about to do something naughty always got to Lorelai long before they had come together. It hinted at the mischief beneath the firm façade. With brown eyes burning into her, she knew she was in for something she never experienced before.

"Are you ready?" Paris asked one more time, giving that small little bit of out to Lorelai if she wasn't. Lorelai settled back on the bed, closing her eyes with a contented moan.


So it began, the blonde finally finding her revenge on Lorelai turning the tables in the pool. She felt embarrassed about having such a hard come at first, but soon after the flush build up and the desire hooded in both of their eyes built up anew to that moment. Paris placed pressure upon the soft tissue again, slow circles and suckling at her clit slowly to draw her out. The small whimpers from Lorelai's throat gave her the cues to find a medium and she would test them occasionally to piss off the woman. Her thing for hearing the 'cool mom' swear was in full force as she got a load of the vocabulary Rory was embarrassed to hearing during heavy movie mocking.

"Goddamn," she seethed out harshly while Paris signaled for her to widen her legs. She pressed her mouth against Lorelai's slit, up and down motions, slowly teasing the nub while pressing as softly as she could against her pubic bone. She had a feeling there were many sensitive spots that had been unexplored in years.

"Christopher is routine, right?" She was harsh, but kind to the scruffy man as she used her words to slicken her lover. "Just goes right in for the pie."

"He hates pie...he's more for cake." Lorelai smirked. "Plain vanilla...cake."

"Does he ever hit you...here?" She pressed fingers against that her midsection below her navel.

"Oh, fuck!!!" She grasped the mattress hard. "My goodness..."

"Yeah, those are the nerves. The nerves you touch when you think of me," she said, proud of herself. "You press your head against your headboard, get naked and you just think of me right here...right here doing this."

"God, Parrrr...." She went back in, applying pressure against the hot flesh. She knew she was getting hot and exploited it, continuing to heat the woman through rhetoric and action. She spoke about dreams, depraving herself alone while she was in the Franklin darkroom. How badly she wanted the woman through the last thirteen days.

"Touch me...touch...fuck..." She drove the heel of her hand in deep, intending to leave marks. But then she moved up to settle Lorelai down and began to do what she wanted more than anything. Her hoarse voice streamed within the shell of her sensitive ears as she made clear her intentions.

"I'm gonna mark you, Ms. G." Her voice in that greeting reminded Lorelai of Eddie Haskell doing naughty things to June. "You're beautiful, but I'm just tired of being reminded every time that I have nothing of you except for clothing and memories. I'm going to leave you marked."

She quivered at the insinuations. "How...how bad?"

"Just be glad the Czech Republic doesn't have sea frontage. They're going to take awhile to fade. That means you might want to be more modest than usual around your daughter. Or anyone in the Hollow." She laughed softly as Lorelai felt her skin prickle.

"So you're going to make it so only you can see me in the buff." Now Lorelai was smiling a bit. "Putting me off limits to everyone else, Par? Keeping me all for your own? Staking your claim on me?"

"Just a friendly reminder that I enjoy being a dirty little secret, Ms. G." She stroked the woman's stomach. "Your days of seducing a guy with a wink and a little leg are over."

"I never show my legs--" Lorelai was as Paris pressed her nails deep into her freckled back. "Owwwww! What the fuck?!" She felt herself immediately seize as she felt the scrapes jar through her system. Paris bared her teeth. "Ohhh...ohhh God!!"

"All those short skirts are just for show then. I get it. Never mind that I've wished to hitch one of them up and feel nothing but hot...and sopping...cunt." She slid her fingers in slightly, pressing them in and out of Lorelai's womanhood. "Bury my fingers inside and just take you where Chris never could."

"Active...imagination..." She pushed in further, three fingers twined together as if in a small pyramid. "Damn!"

"Render you speechless and finally shut you up for just a few minutes. You want that, to make your vocal chords do something besides make a quick and witty observation about Pop Rocks and Coke..."

"Tried it once...not the big deal everyone...made it out to be."

"Ride it out...Ride it out. Just me here, Lor, nobody else. God, fuck my fingers. Just take them tight and make them slick." She pushed in deeper, hooking her fingers in against the woman's pelvic wall. She imagined it as different, less slick and more open.

She enjoyed failing to get the answer wrong for once. Lorelai was tight and wet, tensioned up and waiting for her. She felt the pressure grow as Lorelai closed her legs in around her. Lorelai's arms stretched across the blonde to bring her close, her hands upon her younger lover's rear as she tried to ride it out. Feeling Paris inside of her was a feeling the hotelier was feeling very comfortable in basking in.

"Fuck me...oh, fuck me...fuck...shit..."

Paris's fingers were inside of her past the knuckles while she kissed her stomach, her nose brushing against her navel sensually.

"Cute...nose." It was a surprising compliment that made Paris shudder deeply.


"God, take me deeper. Ohhh...ohh..." She whimpered softly as Paris did all she could to hasten the orgasm but keep it stretched out. Her mouth left three new love bites just below Lorelai's bikini line, including right on her small tattoo. "Finish me off, please!"

"My God." Paris was taken aback at how much pressure was on her body. She felt overly sensitive herself. "God, Lorelai, please help me out."


"I...I need to feel you." She felt nervous about revealing what she wanted, and afraid the woman would find it to be too much. "Your hands...please."

"Please, where?"

"Fingers..want to feel you. I want to cum." Paris begged her to keep some control. "Finger me."

"Deep?" She reached her left hand around, fingers in front, and her thumb flirting with the bottom of her puckered and sensitive flesh. "How does that feel, baby?"

Paris gasped, having to quickly catch her breath. "That...is perfect."

"Like...this?" She opened the girl up with two fingers and slid the middle two of the four inside the wettened walls of her blonde lover.

"Ummm, yeahhhh." But it wasn't enough. "I still want you to tease me though."

"How?" Lorelai wanted to hear it from Paris herself before she went further.

"I'm not shy...rim that thumb...around..." She pushed her posterior against the digit. "Oh, God...wanted this done for so long." Lorelai circled the thumb around the sensitive rosebud, careful with her touches. The glazed look on her lover's eyes told her she was doing just perfectly.

"Ohh yeah..." The women began to establish a rhythm, Paris riding Lorelai's fingers with her ass up high while she went down on Lorelai. Soon they could no longer hold a conversation at all.  They were completely lost in each other, floating above the world as they went from fast and passionate to slow and leisurely. Their positioning became more normal, against each other as they soon repositioned for the sake of Paris's concern that she didn't want to send Lorelai to Europe in crutches. They pushed hard against the headboard, touching everywhere, their bodies heated beyond all rationality, moans and screams echoing through the bedroom.

Paris had no idea that she was that sensitive. Lorelai moved her hand out to below Paris's abdomen, applying pressure against her pelvic wall against the bone. The impact of the stroking was immediate as Paris pushed harder against the pressure, screaming against Lorelai. Soon they were wrapped together, tangled up, hands and legs tangled, beginning to push themselves to their limits. Paris cursed roughly under her breath, eyes hot as the strokes increased, the pressure bubbling up. Her bones felt like they were creaking, her body pushed to its very limits as Paris applied heavy pressure against her on all fronts. Kissing across her body, especially her breasts and the triangle down to her belly, the blonde worked her well despite the innkeeper's own stroking.

"Ohhh....ohhh Goddd...ohhh Par..." She shivered against the slight girl, the orgasm building with her so powerful she felt as if her blood flow was thinning. Paris felt the vibrations within her as the woman shook, giving her some pleasurable sensations herself. They moved to the foot of the bed, needing the full comfort impeded by pillows and the headboard. They were able to stretch out across the wide surface and give into all they wanted. Soon, Lorelai begged for another finger...three fingers within her walls. They were thin and all fit perfect as Paris's thumb stroked her clit.

She tightened her legs around the girl to feel her deeper and removed her hand to grasp at Paris's ass tightly to ride it out. Brown on blue, she only saw Paris within her sights, begging her to come and complimenting how wet she was. The trigger was building, her clit almost at its limit. She nipped lightly at Lorelai's neck, then lingered her tongue erotically against her ear lobe while whispering.

"I'd love to have an excuse to sleep with you after you had a nice cum, Ms. Gilmore. I want to feel you come hard against me. Take it all in." Pushing in and out harder and harder. "Let yourself open to me as much as you can. I'm here for you, Lor. Always here."

"Par...Par...oh Jesus!" She felt her muscles completely tighten up, all of them becoming rigid as she began to reach her peak. Her hair was completely ruined, the natural curls undone out of the iron from the sweat and shower. To anyone else, she would look like a complete mess, but Paris found it so sensual to have Lorelai Gilmore raw and unadulterated. Her hands freely ran through the voluminous locks as she stroked the well-hidden nape of Lorelai's neck, sliding a fingernail against the pressure. Light caresses, wandering, tracing her name and shapes in circles while kissing her lover deeply.

She didn't know what she was discovering. Lorelai closed herself in as tight as she could and she quickly felt the pressure rising. Her eyes glazed over and closed, sexy little murmurs of approval forced from her throat.

Paris knew she found that certain spot Lorelai hid. She pushed further, digging her nail in and hoping to leave a small scar. Her other hand caressed beneath Lorelai's left underarm, slick, but incredibly sensitive.

The effect was immediate. Lorelai closed in and felt her entire body tingle. She knew what was building. But she was also scared.

"Pleeeease...watch out..." She almost said it in a sob.

"For what?"

"I...I, when you...I cum...alot..."

"A lot?" Paris smiled, a kiss upon Lorelai's chin and then upon the right side of her neck. "I think I can live with that." She felt that anticipation between Lorelai's loins. She'd spill over soon.

"A lot," she confirmed.

"Then..." a whisper. "You cum a lot. I wouldn't mind smelling you in my bed the next few weeks."

"FUCK!" Faster...faster. Anticipation building.

"That's it Lor..."

"Yes...yess...ohh, yessss!"

"Come for me, baby, please, come for your bitch. Let her feel you all over, how you can't stop thinking of her." Lorelai gurgled, trying to catch a heavy breath. "Almost there, Lor, get there, get there."




"Lorelai..." the name drawn out with full passion. Harder...harder, clenching tightly...

"Paaaaaaaarrrisssssss!!!!" Suddenly she hit the wall hard. Very hard. Her body went still as she suddenly felt that first force of a contraction within her walls. In those last few moments, four fingers were within her, one thumb upon her clit. With all of the pressure the student could offer, the teacher was well-schooled as she came with a force she never felt before in her entire life. She screamed hard within the bed, her grasp on Paris so tight she almost left bruising upon her lover's ass. Cursing rushed 'fuck me's' as he went through the final process, she felt that gush of fluid forced from her, a hard couple of surges from her body that she was sure would be almost abnormal. She was usually able to hold back, but not this time. The come was definitely full and hard and Paris stilled as the fluid forced from her inner mostreservoir. She tightened as close to Paris as she could, wanting that security and love as close to her as could physically be given. Hyperventilating, her only words were Paris's name, interchanged with those of higher being. Paris kissed her forehead soothingly as the remainders squeezed out and brought her close to her. The thought of Lorelai taking an orgasm from her when she had just given her. The woman actually teared up as she felt her entire being changed from that moment. She choked back as they both relaxed back in the middle of the bed, their bodies slick and hearts both pounding fast.

It took Lorelai awhile to find speech again. The orgasm she just experienced having been deeper than any she had felt in her entire life. Paris's grip against her was light, upon the small of her back as she was careful to be kind to the woman, leaving small kisses up on her face and helping her relax. She ran fingers through Lorelai's hair, encouraging her.

"So all right," she said, her voice soft. "It's so all right to do that, Lor." Her hand dampened with arousal she wiped it against the bed, but residual wetness remained as she settled Lorelai's head upon the pillow. "That was so intense. I don't think I've ever seen that before." She let Lorelai continue to settle, knowing it would take awhile for her to calm down. Showing all the care she had she just held Lorelai quiet against her, keeping her hands on her back, letting her relax into the soft pillows and blankets, throwing the heavy comforter against her lover.

I never saw anything that intense, she thought. Usually Lorelai was the one to push her so hard, but it was much different within this situation. She looked as if completely relaxed and undone, her heart rate still rapid and eyes glazed over, breath taken in almost in a desperate manner. Her fingers circled the woman's back as she tried to bring her back to normalcy. The pause was long and Lorelai was too overwhelmed to say a word.

Finally she lay back in the bed and turned to face the girl who had shaken her entire foundation. Her voice was a whisper as she attempted to recover.

"I actually stopped breathing in those last few moments," she confessed.

Paris was highly startled by the admission. "Whuh?" She couldn't understand. "No, I assure you, I felt you breathing, Lor."

"I did. I glazed out just before that orgasm hit. My air was totally...knocked out. For serious, it was." She shook her head. "I have never in my entire life ended up at that point." She tried to make sense of it. "I blacked out, babe. Only for a few slight moments. But I did. I just lost two seconds of my life and almost experienced a literal la petite morte from your doing."

"God, I'm sorry." Paris was scared. "You...you know I would have never meant to--"

"Par, no." She brushed a finger across her cheek. "I mean that it was a good kind of blacking out. The kind where my body experienced so much euphoria and bliss in that one moment, my systems had to minimize the impact before it just made it go completely haywire. What you just did..." A pause. Then the slightest reassuring smile. "You gave me the deepest and most emotional orgasm a woman can ever have. You hit that wall that just...it just goes wayyyy beyond the G-spot. Not even fucking close to what that does. I think...oh my God." She couldn't find the words to express herself. "You got me right in the uterus. Now I'm no sex expert, but I know a few things. And I damn well know that you hit my A-spot. So much more intense than I have ever found before during sex. It was the most emotionally pulling thing I have ever felt in my entire life." Her eyes welling up with tears, she stared at the girl, all thoughts of ever abandoning her disappearing with the emotional connection they had shared through the last few hours. "This...this...Par, if you feel guilty about making me feel so wonderful, I want you to stop now. Words will never describe how thankful I am that you're so willingly open to me, including sharing your heart in the way you are."

"I just don't ever want to hurt you, Lor." Paris felt a sting through her body, the shock that by her doing that she caused Lorelai to truly feel for the first time in so long a shock to her entire being. "I just saw that and I thought--"

"Stop thinking, hon," she said with a serious tone. "There is no need to think this and try to assert in your own mind that this was wrong. That...that is you finally finding my shut-off switch. I have no words. It's a high I'll be chasing after for the rest of my life. I couldn't stand how hot it was to feel you pressing inside of me while showing how much you feel for me." She clasped her hand into Paris's. "My heart is just so overwhelmed by this trust you suddenly have offered me, and I don't know how I can ever thank you for saying you consider me a friend." She took a deep breath as Paris nuzzled her nose against hers. "I never gave you enough credit. I always thought you were just an intense bitch intending on knocking my daughter down. But you are so much more than that. So much more." Her other hand slid through Paris's hair, silky strands providing her so much comfort. "You are a fighter and your heart...your heart is so kind, but also so closed, yet the small opening into it is proving to me that you're so much more than just a robotic student going through the motions. You're warm, you're loving, and so kind, and..."

Crying again, Lorelai didn't feel like the mature 35 year-old she was supposed to be. Instead she was just a lover, wanting more from the girl she would have never thought so passionate.

"I really do not deserve you," she admitted. "I--"

Her hand was held tightly as Paris's voice was firm and final. "You will never say that again."


"Listen to me right now." She had Lorelai's full attention. "I don't even feel like I deserve you myself. But that's something we cannot ever discuss. Whatever we feel, that's outside influence trying to butt in. We're just two women in this room right now, and whatever the perception anyone else has, we're both somehow in this odd way, the perfect compliments to each other. We balance out. Everything about us, it doesn't make sense. But I want to make this work. I don't want to give this up. And I don't want you to give up, afraid of Emily, of Rory, of the town. We will confront them all one day. But for now, we just explore together. At our own pace. Together. I am not going to give up on you, Lor."

"Not even if I'm a continent away?" She frowned, feeling the hate for the long-time trip build up once again. "You should be free to discover love if you find it, and you don't need me. We're--"

"Lorelai." One pause. "I don't need you. I want only you." She kissed her again. "I would not have invited you here had I just wanted to end things after this evening. I am willing to wait as long as you need to. I'm not going to be cold to you and just end it here because it's convenient."

"I just...I don't want you to have to feel some kind of betrothment to me when there's no way to contact me over the next two months."

"No way to contact you?" Smiling, Paris eased the woman out of her state of mind by reminding her of the wonders of technology. "You can write a letter to my PO box; rest assured I'm the only one who ever checks it. You also forget that I have a phone plan that pretty much lets me do anything I want, even international calling."

"Or texting?" Lorelai was beginning to find her point. "So when I'm in the middle of nowhere with that phone my mother's making me buy, I can read you sending 'thinking of you's my way?

Paris nodded. "Just keep it away from Rory and all will be well." She settled her head onto the bed. "All is well now, for sure."

"It is." Lorelai rolled her eyes back. "Oh my God, is it ever well!" She softly laughed as she curled Paris against her. "So we're in this."

Paris had no hesitation. "Still can't get over my skills in cunnlinguism, can you, Lor?"

"But you haven't gone down on me yet," she reminded the young student. "You're probably still looking for that payback."

"No, I got it by swiping your panties," she assured. "And if you had any more energy, I'd try to stretch this out a little more tonight." Lorelai's tired eyes told the story; she needed a good night's sleep desperately. "But this is probably the night you need to relax much more. You need sleep."

"I could handle--" Paris kissed the woman softly, feeling already that the woman's body was beginning an extreme crash.

"You can't. If we're going for a marathon night, it's not this one. I need you in full 100% shape and willing to forgo sleep. You cannot do that. I caught you on the one night you needed to rest and it was wonderful, passionate, erotic. Had we not been in the pool though this night would have ended three hours ago." Looking into Lorelai's eyes, she felt a sting within her heart, a protective mechanism over a woman half her age that she never had with any of her friends. The woman was about to embark on the most stressful year of her life, travelling the world, opening an inn and making sure that it could establish itself in the marketplace.

A moment's peace was not a luxury for Lorelai--it had to be a necessity. She saw sleep ring her eyes and knew that she was content with what they had done for the evening. It had been one of her best evenings, and she was thankful that her lover wasn't ready to leave tonight.

Still, Lorelai felt guilt over her sleep cycle, as the two women snuggled into each other within the heavy blankets. "So you're not mad at me? I really think I could stand to stay up...just a little longer."

Paris shook her head. "We still have tomorrow morning. Maybe a bit of the afternoon if you can figure out how to stay a few more hours."

"Every little moment," Lorelai said, pecking her lover's lips. "I think I can just say Sominex whipped my ass after I got to the hotel?"

"That sounds so wrong with the whipping." Paris giggled. "However, if you are into whipping..." She wagged her eyebrows, making Lorelai blush violently, but yet she was a bit open to the idea.

"Are you sure you were born in 1984? Sometimes I think you're a newspaper writer trying to get a story and reliving her high school years in disguise."

"I'm not Drew Barrymore, and I have a birth certificate proving my date of birth. I was not born in 1977."

"Sometimes I think you are lately, hon." She curled up against the blonde, soft skin and supple breasts so enjoyable to her after years of having to deal with male body hair in the afterglow. "Your stamina is overpowering. Why anyone else never looked at you I'll never figure out."

"You know why?" Paris was soft with her words. "They didn't get to know the real me. They just saw me as this intense girl and that's all they saw." She brought the sheets close to her body, clasping her hand into Lorelai's. "Even Rory at times, I feel like she just sees me as nothing more than an annoyance. And I play into that on purpose, because it's what I have to do. I have to cause pain and make everyone think twice when it comes to showing my emotions. But you just make it too easy to get along with you, to drop the airs. I...I just feel this connection with you that at times makes me shudder in anticipation and want for more. Then there are other times where I think about you and it just seems so intimidating to be with you. I mean, that first time when we were flirting, it was strange."

"Because it was in a classroom and over a cash box?"

"Mm-hmm. The date with Tristan, it had all of this ceremony behind it, and Jamie got down on bended knee to ask for me in school. It was more than a little mortifying, being treated as if I had to be wooed in a ridiculously traditional way. But us...it was completely different, a 180. There was just this subtle undercurrent that built between us over the last couple years and then, it just combusted. I guess it just needed to."

"I would have never expected it either. You, of anyone I ever met, there's no shyness between us." Lorelai felt comfortable, her eyes struggling to stay open. "Especially the week after when you came to the house. When I saw you when you slept, it was like I was a teenager all over again. Looking at you sleeping, and then you tended to me and my ankle and it just all fit together perfectly. There just wasn't any ceremony there. Just a raw connection, a need." A soft yawn. "And talking."

"Lots of talking. We both talk, and that's more important to build a bond beyond great sex. Not that said great sex hasn't helped." Paris softly chortled as she felt Lorelai pinch her stomach. "That and you enjoy touching me."

"How can I not? Your skin is just heavenly. You don't have to do much with it, yet you're blessed..." Another yawn. "OK, I think I'm finally getting the point of this whole letting me sleep thing."

"Finally the woman gets it at..." Paris stretched over to look at the charcoal Bose radio sitting at her bedside to read the green digits listing the time, "...3:17am."

"I'm going to fall asleep eventually. Hmmph!" She tried to take some covers from Paris in a joking manner. "Besides, you did keep me up, missy."

"I would have actually been content if your bladder somehow managed to betray my prediction and keep you asleep for a few more hours."

"Yes, but what would you have done? That book would've been long read, your skin would've pruned after an hour swim in the pool and there you'd be waiting for me to wake up."

"Which is why I keep meticulous notes in every class I take, and judge from experience."

"What you did tonight?" Lorelai smiled at her. "That wasn't experience, babe. That was your heart showing me how wonderful a girl you are."

The blonde was stunned silent from the compliment, blinking her eyes a few times as she tried to find a retort. But she felt Lorelai slide against her and there was nothing she could say in response. You're filled with surprises, Lorelai, she thought to herself, her heart racing from what she had done in the last few hours to take their secret romance far beyond what she ever imagined. She had expected nothing more than telling Lorelai about Yale and getting some fun in.

Now, she knew between them, there was an undercurrent that was building to the surface.

"Night, Par." The taller woman curled into the younger woman and closed her eyes, and Paris could hardly react beyond fumbling for the lighting remote on the night stand to fade the room to dark.

"Goodnight, Lorelai," she whispered back, only to find the woman already asleep within only a few short moments. She shifted herself into her sleeping position, the same manner she was in two weeks ago in Lorelai's bed. Nothing between them but heat and flesh Paris felt a bit warm while Lorelai's deeply aromatic scent after sex drifted through her nose.

Eight hours before she had been nervous about everything, her mind thinking that Lorelai was only coming to tell her to discontinue her pursuit, that she wasn't going to explore her feelings with her any longer. She was even ready to end it herself if her nerves got to her.

But now she was in her own bed, with her lover, coming off truly the most passionate love she had made yet with the woman, and she already felt that feeling in her soul that she would have to carry around from Hartford, to New Haven, up to Boston and then to Coeur d'Alene for the next two months.

God, I don't ask you for much, but if you could please slow down time for the next few hours? I don't usually get into sticky situations, so if you could keep everyone away from here? I promise you the next thing I ask will be a bit less shallow. Her mind wound down as she felt her sore body desperately needing rest, and with one last peck upon Lorelai's forehead, she began to give in to her natural somnolence, all of her stress dissipating through the halls of the Manor from what she and the woman had felt for each other through that evening.

She was already plotting in her mind however. There had to be a way for to say goodbye to Lorelai in the morning. It would come to her eventually, she hoped.

"Or I may not have to burn one neuron." Mouthing the words she fell asleep, her body anticipating further adventures upon her waking. If anything, she knew Lorelai wasn't going to let her go on with the rest of her summer without marking her in a memorable manner that would truly leave Jamie in the dust.

Paris's Bedroom, 11:57am, Next Day

The last time Lorelai had slept so well, it was so long ago that she couldn't recall the exact date.

Even in her times with Max and Christopher there were still deadlines to love, her men having to have better things to do than wait out her sleep cycle rebelling against her. She would end up awake from the aromatic scents of breakfast and bacon, or in a situation where they had the usual awkward after-sex talk that would remind Lorelai again why she usually kept what happened between her legs confined to herself and that white massager that got her through many a lonely evening. Even when she slept with Paris, the sting of needing to find out if the Inn was up for auction yet kept her from snoozing without a damn.

But there was none of that this afternoon. Her body imprinted with the fine thousand-thread-count sheets she lay in and the incredibly soft $3,500 bed, and her body telling her clock that there was no more rest she could possibly need, she fluttered her eyes open at this time, glad not for the harsh sound of an alarm clock for her to wake up to for once, but the quiet humming of air conditioning keeping her between the 83° day outside and complete comfort. Her bladder only had a light sting in it, as Lorelai had only sipped on fruit punch Paris offered in the hours since 1am when they left the pool.

Stretching herself out, she found abruptly that again, she was alone in waking up. But this time she had expected that as her eyes landed on the clock to check the time and found another note to her next to it. Only this time, there was no impersonal calling on the front fold.

Instead as she focused her eyes, the cursive read something else.

my love

She felt herself tingle as she took the larger piece of paper, this time written upon Paris's personal stationery, and though she cursed she didn't have her reading glasses on, just brought the writing close to make it out.


This time I cannot predict the time you'll finally wake up, and I don't want to. As I write this, the time is about 11:05am and I'm still trying to find the words I can express to describe last night. I'll have to share them with you personally, because I need that last time with you this afternoon.

In the interim, I have cleaned up after ourselves in the pool room and media room, lest anyone finds out what depravity we have pulled throughout last night. Your clothes are folded, though the underwear definitely didn't make it thanks to the chlorine. Really feeling kind of idiotic for not telling you to bring swimwear when I invited you now :(.

As it's so warm outside however I would not expect you to re-wear your top, so I swiped something deep in my mother's closet that I cherished once upon a time and would wear myself, but in her hands has never been worn. It's kind of ridiculous to buy something nice and never wear it, don't you think?

Further, trying to come up with underwear...well, seeing as I'm biting my lower lip and making out your beautiful form through the sheets as I write this, I'm not really concerned with that aspect. After all, we did come together on one of your laundry days. So feel free to disregard that portion of your outfit if you'd like.

Anyway, it might be a bit hot, but today feels like a wonderful afternoon to be outside. I'll be in the back around the garden house, either reading or just taking in the view. It feels like one of those days where change has come and you just don't want to stay in your old personality any longer. I know in these last few weeks I feel like I've changed, thanks to you. Some of it has been a normal process of my maturation, but I feel like you've brought out that passionate side I've hidden from view for so long. What it is about you, I don't know. But after last night, I can no longer describe our attraction as merely that of me looking for comfort in a familiar role model like you, an older woman who has lived by experience and can guide me through it all. I'm writing this letter with tears in my eyes because this does feel so real, and although I'm still aware that this has to stay a secret, my heart feels for you in a way that...

I'm looking at you right now. And I realize that at the beginning of this note I intended to keep it short. I have failed to do so. But I do not regret editing my words. I should probably end this before I get carried away. I will see you shortly and I do want you to know this before you even see me this morning.

I do not regret anything that has happened between us.



P.S.- Might be a little gutsy, but I did check your phone. Rory was worried, predictably, so I sent some clandestine texts with the excuse we came up last night involving sleep deprivation and a hotel stay. Which when it comes down to it, was true. She didn't suspect a thing and will be content if you get back to Stars Hollow by five. My apologies if I went too far, but the last thing you need worry about is how to excuse following your heart to your daughter.

Additional P.S. - I did run to Cumberland Farms for blueberry muffins and coffee and hopefully that suffices for breakfast, which is in the kitchen on the island. I might be great in bed, but you need to teach me how to whip up a cup of joe that doesn't taste like Drano before I ever get to that step. Forgive me :)?

"Beyond forgiven." Lorelai's lip trembled as she traced the marks of the handwriting, some of the tall words tracked with streaks of wetness in tears that fell upon the crisp sheet of paper. She tried to keep her own tears from falling, her heart tugged by the simple romanticism behind the actions of her lover in the light of day. Not only had she been eloquent in her words, but she had done the most basic things to calm all of her fears and questions. There were some still to be answered for sure later on, but for now she was still in the afterglow of passionate lovemaking, much-needed sleep, and someone who at their barest, had known the skeleton components of her morning routine.

In all of her years, the morning after had always been Lorelai's most dreaded time. She knew then whether the chemistry would work out, or they were headed towards disaster.

No need to fear the latter. Or even the further. Even two weeks before, that had been a fluke fueled by her excitement over the Dragonfly. There was nothing in this instance influencing them from the outside, applying pressure to them. Now it was just the two women standing on their own merits. She pressed the sheet to her body, dreading having to leave the comfort of the space-age mattress she had spent the best night of sleep in years upon.

But she had to depart eventually. She slowly rose, stretching her arms out, and then her legs. The usual morning soreness she felt when she got out of bed nowhere to be found, she tossed her hair to-and-fro, the atmosphere of the bedroom unlike that of her own. It was seemingly cluttered with academic items in some corners, but there were no odd posters or teen magazine clippings to be found. Only quotes that seemed to come from fortune cookies, the small remainder of clouds and a bright sun on one side of the wall to suggest the bedroom's theme in Paris's nursery years, a few family pictures here and there. The hum of the girl's Mac, the bright windows.

What was most apparent as she walked around to regain her footing was the signs of Harvard which only remained in weathered outlines of pennants, H-shaped objects, the carving of the school seal passed down for years between generations of Gellars. They were all gone, the room bare of any suggestion the strong young woman had ever considered Cambridge. It was here it hit Lorelai, how tough a choice it was to let Harvard go.

How Paris had gotten through that time without feeling any pull towards suicide, the woman knew there was more courage and fight in her lover than she ever had considered.

"Not a robot," she told herself. "She is completely mortal, but so beautiful." Finding her clothes folded below her purse, she then proceeded to the shower in the girl's private bathroom to cleanse herself of the remainders of last night, thankful that she had packed her purse with personal items in advance for an overnight.

She spent the next 45 minutes trying to make herself look presentable all over again, fixing her unruly hair and finding all kinds of scars and bites that would thankfully be hidden by her shirt and pants. Her entire body felt as if it was fifteen all over again, the woman relaxed and ready to meet Paris all over again. She toweled herself off thoroughly and then began to dress, indeed taking Paris's permissive cue to go commando and pushing her jeans on, the zip on the pants reminding her that all was well. Then putting on the silky light blue camisole top with, she had to admit that Paris's fashion skills, although not anywhere near that of a fashion plate, were definitely that of making her comfortable. Looking at herself in the mirror she felt content with herself, pleased that Rory would not be suspicious she went to Hartford for anything but innocent means. Applying a last sheen of lip gloss, she smacked her lips together and took herself in.

"Hello there, Lorelai Gilmore, certified lady killer." Giggling at her self-dorkiness, she felt so young and open, ready for more from the surprising young woman who had taken her by storm. After an application of antiperspirant, she took in the top once again, examining the skin bared by the thin article and the slight bit of belly peeking out from the abrupt hem ending just before the waist line. She felt comfortable in it and from the scent of the threads, knew that not only had Sharon Gellar never worn it, but she never even tried it on, as she actually had to take the price tag off before she put it on.

A price tag so old, it was a bit aged, not even having a UPC code upon it.

"Yeah...this does make up for the skirt she kept," she told herself, enjoying how the surprisingly vintage top flattered her figure. A little bit of lacy crème flair on the chest and a deeper color for the straps, everything matched perfectly. But she still needed one last touch to see if it was incredibly perfect.

Closing her eyes in front of the mirror, she visualized Paris coming into the bathroom and looking at the low-cut back of the top, which went below the bra line. Taking in all the freckles and moles upon her back, she thought of the blonde moving towards her slowly and sensually, her voice in her mind as she told the woman how beautiful she looked from behind. Her imagination felt Paris press against her from behind to turn her around as those slim and calloused hands took in the jeans painted on against her rear.

She pushed her legs together, feeling an immediate rush of warmth when she touched herself against her stomach, a hand moving along the fabric of the top to her breasts. She heard that whispered voice beckoning her to touch herself and she followed it to round the tip of her index finger against her nipple. Hissing from the simple yet sensual touch, she wanted to go further...

And then she opened her eyes once again to the room, jarred by a random thought. Her heart rate sped up fast and finding her surroundings again, she found her thighs pushed together. Breaking them apart she hadn't felt so turned on before by herself in her life.

Then she looked at herself in the mirror. The tall hotelier took in the image of her breasts fully swelled and nipples erect. Instead of feeling embarrassed that she lost herself in her thoughts, she bit down on her tongue and grinned at the idea of being a sexual fantasy figure to the young student.

"I still have it," she confidently stated, glad that once she got into the Jeep a few hours later she could hide how much the camisole didn't leave to the imagination with her jacket. For now though she slid her purse onto her shoulder, and her stomach anticipated the delicious breakfast awaiting her downstairs, which she would definitely not take her time eating.

Manor Backyard, 12:50pm

There was no way she could tell Luke that she wanted to cheat on him.

Everyone in the town thought that the reason she went to Luke's was that she enjoyed eyefucking the diner owner every moment she could. That's why they shared that banter, that friendship and a few months earlier she had dreamed she had his children, which she told Rory about. On the surface it could definitely be taken as relationship building slowly.

However, with Nicole, Lorelai knew when to back off. She knew she had no claim on Luke and would not stoop down to telling off Nicole. She had done all she could the last few years to offer a date, and if Luke couldn't take the hint, she just had to live with it.

But as Lorelai walked down the balcony steps leading from the patio off the kitchen of the Manor holding a 24 oz. cup of hazelnut caramel coffee from a mini-mart, Lorelai couldn't deny that although coffee was the right way to her stomach, small acts of kindness were the way to her heart. Her body warmed as she sipped from the cup and looked for Paris in the broad yard behind the dark brownstone residence which dwarfed the neighborhood. On the second floor the estate seemed limitless, but on the lawn of it the broad lawns and deep gardens awed the woman. They were immaculately maintained, perfectly symmetrical with the main house as far as the flowers and trees planted. Her eyes took in a 180° of the terrain in front of her, wondering how in the world that a woman such as Sharon Gellar had time to maintain this spread.

"This certainly puts Dwight's garden to shame," she said, recalling the garden she had to tend to a few months ago. She walked the stone path, seeing the small garden house ahead in a clearing, the complete opposite of the distant greenhouse. "That's where she has to be." She let her nose take in the fragrant atmosphere of the garden, feeling as if she was in the poppy field outside the Emerald City. Never in her teen years had she explored the fine gardens, but now she enjoyed taking in every flower, plant and tree down the small lane. She wandered the grounds for ten minutes, lost in her thoughts, remembering the last night, how Paris truly had explored her emotions with her and brought out the kinder side, compared to the personality she had of the woman scorned when she came to the Gilmore home to mourn the loss of her relationship.

That night had been about balming the hurt through sex that made Paris forget, getting to know each other on that raw level where they needed to find that footing to define themselves. That second time had to establish where they wanted to go in the future. Lorelai knew last night had been a combination of the romantic and the kinky, so they both needed to find that happy medium.

Finally coming upon the garden house 300 feet from the main mansion, she would have expected Paris to be dressed for a Saturday morning for sure in her own way, reading a complicated textbook while pondering some far off question. Lorelai knew that Paris was not the type to relax.

However with the end of Chilton, also came the end of her own way of life. No longer did she have to live to satisfy somebody academically to earn a scholarship, or pack her summer weekends with hour after hour of stressing activities for the bare sake of her transcript. Paris was finally free to enjoy a day in June or July with a blank calendar page, her phone remaining on her nightstand, on silent and not to be used through the entire day as she basked in the quiet of being completely alone and free.

Coming up to the small house's porch, Lorelai had been nervous, her hand holding the foam cup in a shaky position.

But as she came to the turn revealing the full beauty of the guest house right in the middle of the floral harmony surrounding it, the sight that welcomed her back in the view of Paris Gellar for the first time in the light of day went beyond all words and comprehension.

At that moment the only callback to how she felt at that moment had been walking into the Inn and laying her eyes upon the sight of 1,000 yellow daisies. She had always held the moment dear as the height of her relationship with Max and how romantic he could be.

Paris sat on the porch, listening to the last moments of the final story of the week's This American Life on the radio next to her, looking calm, her eyes closed as she rested in the white wicker chair taking in the imagery of the program. It reminded her of Trix describing how she and Richard would listen to Monitor on the weekends while he courted Emily, a few years before Lorelai came into the world. She sat all the way back in the chair in a position that would usually earn her a rebuke about manners from her mother, but she didn't much care when the woman was too busy in Manhattan to monitor her posture.

Lorelai slowed down seeing Paris's eyes closed. A smile grew across her lips. Gonna take her by surprise, she thought to herself. She stepped off to the side of the path to slip off her sneakers, knowing she could find them rather easily. Now barefoot, she inched towards the porch with slow steps, hoping Paris would judge her footsteps as just a squirrel running by. She didn't dare make a sound that was out of the ordinary, controlling her breathing, entering the porch off to the side on the grass instead of upon the path.

The drone of Ira Glass listed the underwriters as her toes planted upon the painted white deck of the porch, hoping not for an errant squeak. She felt complete alien, hoping the surprise would not startle the girl. She slid both feet on, and was thankful to only come onto the porch with an imperceptible scuff.

Paris was only a few feet from her now on the other side of the porch. The breeze picked up slightly, allowing Lorelai to see how Paris's hair blew in the wind. Loose and undone for once, the tendrils blew around her face and brushed her eyes and her nose.

Lorelai's heart fluttered. Even from the day they met she found herself jealous of a mane which usually belonged to the bitchy head cheerleader. She moved ever closer, her ears hoping that Ira's spiel was not about to end with the Public Radio International sounder. She was quiet, setting her cup down on a table and then approaching the girl with due caution. The scent of her shampoo drew her closer, a light scent that was fragrant, but melded in with the flowers surrounding the house.

She was inches away. Hovering over the blonde from behind, she took in the angular shoulder, bared but for the strap of her simple sundress, which she had not really taken in quite yet. She deliberately controlled her breathing, taking in air through her nose to keep from startling Paris. The tanned skin of the younger woman drew her in, the spots around it...

...But she knew the focal point the girl had always had all eyes on was the dark brown mole that defined the left part of her neck. It was beckoning to her, always. When Paris was over at the house her eyes would invariably land upon the small spot. It made her human and approachable, and was one of the things she looked at all day when they were at the cashbox. It teased her and hinted at what was below the mark and the clothing the woman wore.

She pushed closer. The scent of shampoo, mixing with that of a light sheen of sweat which brought a slight aroma from the girl's skin. She gulped, hoping that she was doing the right thing.

Then without a word, she applied the lightest of pressure against the skin surrounding the mole with her lips, then brought her right hand up to drape around Paris's right shoulder from behind.

Lorelai expected Paris to be startled, even shocked.

Instead, she found an immediate and gaspy moan slide out from the throat of her lover as she circled the very tip of her tongue against the beauty mark. She slightly drew more pressure against the skin as Paris slacked back within the chair. The stiffness was sudden and unexpected.

"Lorelaaaaiii..." Her breathing picked up tenor as she felt her entire body tighten from the presence of the woman who had shared her bed the evening before, and who she would have rather just explored all night and into the dawn of the day. Her hair was tucked behind her ear by Lorelai, a thumb brushing against her sensitive earlobe. She felt bohemian in the way she was in love, the stiffness and ceremony usually expected within the wooing process completely out of the playbook. Their raw emotions guided them and she felt no scandal about having in her arms the night before a woman who in any other circumstance would have never met her.

Lorelai's other hand wrapped around her, fingers flitting against her left underarm. She felt all of her defenses melting away from the brunette's touch, allowing the new hotel owner to take in her body in a semi-aroused state. She had not applied her antiperspirant, feeling the need to be completely natural around the woman. Normally dry, the anticipation of more time with the woman soaked her body and she was outside for the bare reason of keeping cool beneath the shade. The fingers slid towards her front, and then just as soon as she came on, she kissed the girl on the cheek and began to pull away, leaving her wanting for more.

"Good afternoon, beautiful," she said, the words now not hiding an irony, said with Lorelai's full passion. Paris turned around to kiss Lorelai upon the lips, doing a little suckling move to stir her senses.

"Lorelai," she said, almost breathless. Brown eyes slitted, hinting at a deep well of desire. "You caught me by surprise. I didn't expect you from behind me."

"Well you should be aware of your surroundings at all times," Lorelai reminded her. "Didn't your mother tell you never to talk to strangers?"

Paris giggled, the irony of Lorelai having been a stranger to her delicious. "Mother says a lot of things I ignore quite comfortably." She turned in the chair to face the woman, a colorful blush across her cheeks. "I was waiting for you."

"You were now, were you?" Lorelai smiled, feeling pleased to have someone wait for her in the morning light. "I'm sorry I slept so late."

"Think nothing of it. I suppose you don't feel like you did yesterday, dragging your ass around on little sleep?"

"Actually I was going to ask if there was some magical manner in carrying that kind of mattress around Europe. Sooo not looking forward to sleeping on cots or those plastic pee-proof mattresses they place on bunks." She shuddered deeply. "I really enjoyed...what happened on that mattress."

"I did too." Paris smiled at Lorelai, baring her teeth and crossing her legs over, doing it slowly to disturb the material of her dress upward to tease the woman. "When I was dressing you were actually in your sleep...well, involved." She twitched her mouth and shook her head as Lorelai was taken aback. "I'm pleased to know now that like me, you do talk in your sleep, in the right circumstances."

"Wha--what did I dream?" Lorelai knew she had dreamt of Paris earlier, but thought that was just in her mind. She held her hand to her chest as she sat on the small stool next to the table. "Surely I wasn't projecting it."

"I'm afraid that you did. Really, Ms. Gilmore, do you have some kink about forcing milk upon me? Far be it for me to remind you that I'm lactose intolerant unless I take some kind of pill, but I never knew my little milk speech in regards to Rory's WPM would later result in a sexual fantasy where you coated the tip of my nose, my mouth, breasts and privates in whipped cream and towards the end, literally popped a cherry which happened to be positioned within my womanhood, and then upon my fruition, tied the stem of said cherry of your tongue after working me off to a long and very pleasurable orgasm."

Lorelai was taken very aback. "You're not looking for an apology, are you? I probably shouldn't have done that...I mean, had that dream in your bed. Even if, yes, I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue, your intellect was probably insulted."

"My intellect had no concern with your cerebral stimulation. However, I'm really enjoying exploring my sexuality with you. I think you're definitely sexually intelligent and that shows in how you control me. That is...in a way I like." She reached over to turn off the radio and grab at her cool glass of lemonade sitting on the table next to her. Taking the straw within it between her lips, she puckered them out, knowing she had Lorelai's full attention as she took the long and drawn out sip from the glass. She took it out after drawing it out, refreshed from the tart liquid.

Lorelai remembered her thoughts of only 23 hours before, how she theorized her attraction to Paris was about control.

It still is about control, she thought to herself, her body stiffening as she took in the pucker of Paris's thin lips. But it's more than that. She's so attractive in so many more ways when she's so relaxed. Both physically and in her mental state of mind. She hasn't done much more in my sight today than cross her legs and sip a drink, and it's making me feel hot. And the way she described that dream...oh my God. She had never had someone so passionate in her life before, and it overwhelmed Lorelai that she was falling so hard and so fast for this young woman.

Then Paris brought out her tongue to lick the remainder of lemonade from her lips. The brunette coldly trembled at the action, remembering how Paris had promised to partake of her beneath the water. The smallest things, the tiniest of entendres, they were driving the woman up a wall.

Even the way she expressed refreshment was a turn-on.

"Ahhh," she said softly. "God, I'm so glad that Nanny is in my life."

"She made that before she left?" Lorelai asked. Paris nodded.

"I'm going to miss her when she leaves for Idaho. But she's always going to be there for me. Been there more than my mother, that's for sure." She sighed, shaking her head. "But eventually I have to face that world out there alone, ready or not."

"You know...you're not alone." Rising up, Lorelai took Paris's hand and pressed her fingers within the palm. "I'm going to be here yet for you."

"That's very kind of you. But I mean in the sense that I'm back on the bottom with 12,000 others. Many others have my GPA, my accomplishments, my drive in that school. I could be unique in Chilton by doing my best. There, I have to be myself to be the best."

"I know hon. But those kids don't have what you have," Lorelai intoned softly, her eyes intense with a desire to comfort her lover.

"What's that?" Lorelai rose up slightly to take in the girl and smiled at her.

"They don't have your heart. They see the world in shades of grey. You see it in full color, hon."

"Lorelai, I hardly think a divorce by my parents and getting rejected by my dream college is seeing the world in color. I'm not in Cabrini Green, dodging bullets just to buy myself a Hershey bar at the mini-mart across the street."

"Par..." Lorelai shook her head, frustrated at how the girl took apart her analogies. Still, she found it cute. "Fine, but I insist that you have a shielded heart. One you hide so well, that it takes so much to get to. You have a beautiful soul and I'm just glad that I'm here to discover it."

"Thank you." Paris wrapped her arms around her chest and rose up, sliding on her sandals. "I...I'm sorry I cut down your passionate speech. I just get defensive and I don't want you just to see me as a poor little rich girl. I need to keep that perspective that it could be a lot worse for me."

"I know." She smiled at the girl and kissed her to make up for the small little disagreement. "Sometimes I get so shmoopy and it bites me in the ass."

"Let's not let it affect us," Paris said, shaking her hair out. "Besides, we still have this small time together and I'm not going to ruin it because you're all romantic." She took Lorelai's hand and beamed. "Meanwhile, I think we shouldn't let this day stick to two stools and a porch. There's a big world out there to explore and I feel like today's a great day for a garden tour."

"Are you trying to pitch me on asking your gardener for their services? Because it just might work on me, oh magical girl." She winked and Paris laughed happily.

"I can tell we're going to have some fun on this tour, Lor." Leading the way after Lorelai slid her shoes back on, she was glad for this extra time with the intriguing woman whose company she was beginning to savor every moment of keeping.

2:35pm, Gellar Manor Greenhouse

When Paris was a young girl, she was often discouraged by her mother from going near the garden.

Not because her mother was a persnickety tender of her plants. Perish the thought of Sharon Gellar ever finding herself digging her $500 manicured hands into the ground to plant any kind of seed.

As with most of the Manor, the garden was her father's work, but mainly the domain of her Nanna Gellar, who had taken so many horticultural awards for the Hartford region in her lifetime she had pulled an Oprah and taken herself out of contention for them in 1990. She continued to tend to the garden with all of her zeal, working the ground with her personal gardeners through her retirement and into her 70's, only leaving the garden fully to her gardeners three years before, but only on the advice of her doctor who suggested she reduce her mobility due to a fragile hip. The Jewish woman had fought him tooth and nail, but eventually acceded, only with the promise from Harold Gellar that she continue to provide input, and that her estate would continue to provide for the care and tending of her precious garden long into her eternity, and possibly that of Paris's.

The plot was colorful, beautiful, and tempting to Paris, always. For years, she had been banned by Sharon from going even near it.

This was despite Nanna giving her complete permission to do what she wanted within it. "Damn it Shar, I plant so much stuff in there because I want my granddaughter to enjoy it," she told the woman multiple times. "Flowers are good for her health. You keep her inside like John Travolta in a bubble and the poor lil' lady's gonna suffer. Oy vey, why did my son have to marry you of all people--"

Sharon had somehow kept her away from frolicking in the flowers. Sure, she studied in the garden, but if there was one thing Paris was thankful for, that was her romance with Jamie spanned the months when the garden was fallow.

Freed of him, she could describe every flower and plant in detail instead with Lorelai. She thought it would be a basic walking trip, explaining the flowers and being able to watch the woman she was falling in love with in a situation that further stripped away the stress that was disappearing from her being.

Never in all of her years looking at the garden from her bedroom window would she have thought that a simple garden tour would stir all of her five senses in an overwhelming way.

They had taken all the various paths through the lawns and gardens, looking at all the flowers, Lorelai in awe at the rows of peonys, roses, daisies and sunflowers dotting the garden. In the vegetable patch she took in Paris's description of how all alone based on the small bit of earth they stood on, she distrusted the produce industry and would only eat organic produce because of how fresh the snap of a celery was from her earth rather than that of the produce section of A&P. Gardenias, poppies, black eyed susans and begonias were beautifully flowering, and Lorelai's eyes were overwhelmed by the palate of colors presented in front of her.

Not to say that the tour was just a basic tour by any means. The women were able to steal many kisses, and there were moments where no words needed to be shared as they took each other in, comparing their casual dress of last night with their current dress.

Lorelai was completely surprised with how at ease Paris could be looking very casual. She would have never pictured Paris in a simple pale yellow sundress, but there she was in front of her, the garment flowing just a smidge below her knees and the cut of the dress low and hugging the breasts softly, showing off her deep cleavage in such a flattering manner. Her hair completely free and only wearing the cheapest of thong sandals to just keep her feet from the ground, she couldn't help but enjoy how the lovely young student was proving to her that her want to relax wasn't just a statement to please the woman, but the new way she lived her life.

What really caught her attention was exactly how pale the dress was, not only in color, but in the material. Out of the sun, the garment seemed thick. But when Paris was walking towards the sun, Lorelai bit her fingernails as she followed Paris behind her describing the genus of a flower in incredibly complex terms.

There was no hiding Paris's bountiful curves, even through the dress. The outline of her hips, the swell of her stomach, even the shape of her thighs, it was visible through the material of the dress. It wasn't something she would tell Paris to ruin the atmosphere, especially as she found herself receiving a lovely eyeful of the blonde's derriere within the material. Her body tightened as she took in the girl's figure, all of the crests and valleys that defined the beauty of the girl she was growing to cherish as more than her daughter's intense friend. The tall innkeeper was still in disbelief weeks later that a boy like Jamie could ever let Paris go, as she wished she could hold onto her.

Paris knew the dress was bringing her attention and felt warm from those blue eyes regarding her as sexual. She blushed when she turned around and would often have to dart her attention down at the woman for an unforeseen circumstance in her choice of top, telling Lorelai to adjust the straps of her top back upward. The temptation to have her in the garden was heavy, her hands shaky while her body willed her to fall into the chasm of lust anew.

But she only kissed Lorelai, pulling up her top when she needed to. After going through all of the gardens they were finally at the other side of the garden, at the greenhouse. Both of them went into the deep room, a topiary of flowers and plants surrounding them on all sides with the sun seeming to stream in from all directions. Soon they toured the large room, Lorelai in awe at the rare flowers populating the space, Paris warm from the woman's hand upon her shoulder.

They both felt uncomfortable and wanting of each other. Paris felt the coolness of the air prickle her skin, while Lorelai's center wept within the confines of her jeans, the denim rubbing harshly against her hardened clit. Soon in the most fragrant part of the room, the two women sat on a soft wide bench together, the both of them lost in each other as Lorelai complimented the garden.

"It really is a beautiful one. I'm glad that your mother hasn't been able to take it out."

"And hopefully she never will. I couldn't picture this lawn with just faceless fountains and statues like she'd want." Settling on the bench, she stretched out her toes which were out of the sandals. "I always come out here to meditate and find some peace."

"I can see why," Lorelai complimented as she slid next to Paris. "I just wonder how you can come off as an angry young girl with everyone else, but around me you're so quiet, reserved and soft."

"Because you just see me," Paris admitted, blushing. "You managed to get past my whole façade and make your way into my heart. I feel so open, so free...also so expressive." She was about to say a bit more when she felt the brushing of an object against her arms softly. Bringing her gaze down, she was ready to see what Lorelai was doing, but the woman made a smart move. When she saw her hand, there was nothing in it.

At least until she looked up at the woman, where she was startled as she found something slid in the space above her ear and her scalp on the left side. At first she thought it was just a hand, until Lorelai pulled her hand away. Stunned, she brushed her fingers against the object.

The texture and the shape were immediately familiar. Her heart ached as Lorelai smiled at her.

"You're also so pure and loyal," Lorelai said to finish Paris's thoughts. "I'm beginning to put my full trust in you, Paris. I may seem like I'm such a naughty little girl in bed, but my true feelings, within my heart..." Her lip trembled. "In this small amount of time, I grew to know you as not only another girl in my daughter's life, but as a confidant who helped me through two critical weeks where I needed a pick-me-up of confidence." She moved closer to caress Paris's other side, hands running through her long flowing tresses while admiring how her decoration had brought out the sensual side of Paris.

"A daisy..." Paris felt overwhelmed by the simple gift picked from the garden. "Not a yellow daisy, I hope."

"A little yellow near the pistil, but otherwise, pale and soft." She smiled at the girl, drawing her in for another slow and lingering kiss upon the bench. Her hands twisted at Paris's hair as she brought her in as close as she could, to feel the heat of her cheeks and see how beautiful the young woman was up close, all of the little freckles sprinkled on her nose like cinnamon. Pulling away unwillingly, Paris felt her cheeks warm from being in the presence of the beautiful woman as she again brushed the petals of the daisy, her brown eyes wide open and expressive. The touch of the woman stung her arms into goosebumps.

"It's beautiful," she told Lorelai, her face taking on a shade that betrayed any shyness she was trying to show for her lover. "I don't understand how you snuck it by me, though. I would have seen you if you picked a daisy."

"I slid it by and put it right down my top," she admitted with a smirk. "Better a daisy than a rose being held against my stomach," as she noted the thorns which would have literally been in her side.

"I'm not a rose person anyways. It's a flower that's been well-trodden and isn't that special."

"Even if it has a parade and incredibly boring football game devoted to it?"

"If you're smart you'll stop there right now before I trot out an argument about college football playoffs and bowl games bound to put you to sleep, along with how they decide a champion is complete bullshit."

"Sleep? I don't know that I could get any more sleep," Lorelai said, laughing slightly. "And somehow I could listen to your arguments for hours if it meant hearing your voice." She placed her hand on the girl's left leg, taking in the thin material of the dress. "You deserve to be spoiled, hon, and I'm tired of others passing you by for the sole reasoning that you're so intense. That's what makes you who you are."

She brushed a loose strand of hair from in front of her face as she felt her heart guiding her fully. She felt her lip tremble, taking in the girl in such a beautiful setting. Not at all within the artificial setting of a room, but in a building surrounded by floral beauty, with her lover not at all under any pressure. Her nails took in the rough texture of the hollow of her knee as she felt herself all over again fall for Paris.

Eighteen years no longer defined what they were, rather it was how they related to each other and found an unexpected common ground. Paris looked at her lover and felt her heart swell from all of the simple gestures of Lorelai.

"I really enjoy this," she said simply, settling on the bench. "This is comfortable."

"It is." They were turning to face eye to eye. "I never thought the quiet moments were so important."

"Me either. I always was taught that grand gestures were the way to the heart. But with you, just having an ear is all I need." She kicked her legs up and down, serene towards the hotelier as she felt the breeze of her dress circulate beneath her body. "It's so odd; I feel like I'm a flower girl right now."

"You mean a flower child?" Lorelai corrected her. "Wanting to go to San Francisco? Because you have the flower in your hair."

"The sun is blessing us this afternoon. I couldn't have picked a better day for us to be together."

"I know." Lorelai knew but didn't want to make it real. "I wish the world could pause for our own needs. To just share all this time."

"We treasure every moment we have," Paris intoned. "All these years later I feel like schooling rushed by. I have to begin to relax."

"You feel relaxed." Lorelai's cheeks warmed with admiration. "I hope in your letters I get to hear how you had a lazy day and never changed out of your nightgown."

"Not that I would wear a nightgown. My younger days have ended; I want to get up and throw on a pair of Jockeys and a tank top." Paris took a deep breath. "I've been hiding myself from the world for so long and it's you who is helping me find my way, Lor. I don't know what I'd be doing had you never cornered me in front of that board and acted on those illicit desires you have of me."

"I don't think I'd have an inn now, that's for damned sure." Lorelai's hand slowly trailed up from Paris's knee. "That image of you in your underwear sounds delicious, by the way. Those little panties that go all the way up the waistband, your beautifully tanned body...those deep curves within your shirt." She closed her eyes. "That's gonna be a bunk-warmer for sure."

"I picture you coming back from Europe all toned and tanned. A firm stomach and a body that's taken so many mountains. You're emotionally strong, but your physical strength when you get home...I can't wait to work your body off." The both of them were now eye to eye, Paris's own hand moving towards Lorelai's center slowly. "Is it wrong to think of you like that?"

Smiling, Lorelai inched her hand further, breaching the hem of the voluminous dress. "I don't know. Would it be wrong to picture you back from Idaho with a true farmer's tan?"

"Playing with fire," Paris warned. "Don't get me started on how I'm going to loathe the distance."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder."

Paris twisted the proverb. "Distance also makes lovers ache horribly."

"Not if those lovers leave each other with full and deep satisfaction." Higher up. "Incredible satisfaction."

"How much?"

"The kind which makes you spill over the moment you recall those memories." Now Lorelai touched her thigh against that of the younger woman. "Those fantasies that keep you sane. The ones I will hold all summer within the deepest portion of my heart."

 Paris furthered the imagery. Finding an isolated place to camp beneath the canopy of stars, laying out your sleeping bag and disrobing beneath your daughter's nose as you imagine you're not the only one within the bag?" Her teeth circled the top of her lip. "Just touching yourself and mouthing my name." Thin fingers caressed the inseam of Lorelai's jeans.

"Oh, God."

"I can just see you under the stars...those beautiful eyes reflecting the brightness of a quasar as you think of me, how we'd share space and our body heat together. And after a long day together, you'd be so turned on from my scent that you'd be begging Rory to explore by herself so we could partake in each other." The pads of her fingers wandered in swirls across the seam.

"You do realize what my control is like around you," Lorelai questioned. "Paris...I can see it so clearly."

"Wanting of me, so badly. To taste my skin, to feel the heft of my breasts against yours." She felt the dress pushed up further. "Undressing me so sensually...I love that."

"Love seeing you like this," Lorelai said. "Beautiful girl, beautiful eyes, a mind that can just create so many visions of lust."

"Touch my leg," Paris dared. "I don't want you to suffice with the fabric of my skirt."

Lorelai complied, moving her hand down beneath the hem of the dress, dragging the material towards the petite woman's lap. Paris's breath deepened. "Oh, lord. I think about your hands...touching me." Her own hand moved in closer towards her lover's heat.

"All the time?"


Her finger curved languidly along the bare skin of the smooth leg, unpocked by razor marks. "Does it get you wet, Paris? Knowing that I slept like a baby because you made me cum so hard I lost my bearings? Those magical hands, that mysterious mouth..." Moving closer, Paris and Lorelai shared such deep eye contact it was almost as if they were in a solitary trance. "That tongue that can do things to me that no man could ever dare? Finely trained by forensics, debates, anger and passion, you know how to use every attribute you have to your ultimate advantage."

"The mere sway of your hips, the sight of your legs in a skirt...rattling off about pop culture at 225 words per minutes."

"You, knowing everything...ever. As long as it doesn't deal with anything frivolous."

The dress was inched higher as Paris found herself nearing the building wetness of her partner within a circle within the crotch of her jeans.

"Never expected anyone to be so wet for me," Paris responded, truthfully as she felt the building dampness. "I see you did indeed take my advice."

"It's a bonus laundry day."

"I really enjoy laundry day," Paris intoned, the dress losing more and more material up her leg. "Your laundry days must be a chore to get through."

"Actually it's the most pleasurable day you can find. Finding your panty drawer completely empty, or at least filled with only the stuff you wear when you're desperate, you feel that freedom to go without."

"I wouldn't know. The laundry service we have usually keeps me well in stock with panties." She was a bit nervous, Lorelai spidering her fingers up her thigh. "I kind of threw a clean pair down the chute Wednesday. Didn't want Mother to think her innocent daughter went to graduation bare beneath her dress."

"Admit it...you saw me and you rubbed your legs together for me, baby." She moved closer as Paris outlined her slit through her jeans. "I'm not going to tell a soul that you had dark thoughts about me in your cap and gown."

"I saw you and Rory go into the school. I followed you, from behind, far away." Small fingers moved towards the small brass pull of the zipper. "Peeked out from the side hall and saw you carving your initials into the baseboards." She smiled deviously. "You're bad for me, Lorelai. Such a rebel, defacing school property. Does it get you off that I didn't tell anybody? That instead I was staring at your ass as I saw you dig that scrawl into the hardwood?"

"Shit, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry at all." She tittered softly. "Just know that my last ten minutes in Chilton as a teenager were spent within the confines of an open broom closet, wishing we had run up to that classroom we fucked in and you could make me spill over my gown."

"So vandalism gets you hot? Is that what you're saying?" Fingernails moved towards Paris's inner thighs. Bracing the bench with her free hand, Paris felt overwhelmed by what they were telling each other. "No wonder you were into Tristan DuGrey."

"That's different. He was just an ass. You just...oh Goddd!" A sensitive spot was hit. "Jamie was a good boy. Too good. Like Dennis the Menace. You're definitely more of a Rizzo...you don't give a damn. It's your way...or no way at all. And I get off on your darkness...your dominance of me...how you hit me right in that...place...shit...knowing I don't...stand...for...borrrinnggg...ugggh...ohhhh!!" She closed her eyes suddenly, pushing Lorelai's hand between her. The woman was nowhere near her center, yet the very emotional idea of what she suggested was enough.

"Oh damn...Gaaaawwwd...fuck!!"

She slumped over, Lorelai quickly bracing her in a hug as she felt the convulsions hit her hard. Deep panting, her body let go slightly, a small orgasm forced from her from the barest of touches. Lorelai's jeans weren't even unzipped and there was that soulful connection between them, hitting Paris as her intense sexual urges built up.

Lorelai was hot and turned on. She couldn't believe that her mere words and a small touch had brought Paris off. God, Max or Chris never did that to me, she thought as Paris buried her head into her shoulder, pushing aside the strap of her top so that she had full contact with the woman. Slowly removing her hand, Lorelai wrapped around the girl as she felt the last of the light contractions fade away, breathing heavy and her body very warm to the touch.

She could have never imagined that Paris would be so intense and sexual. She felt Paris sob against her softly, feeling a bit embarrassed about her situation in Lorelai's eyes. Something she had to fix right off.

"You okay?" She was kind and caring. "God, oh God. Par, I would have never thought you would ever be that...that...spontaneous. I didn't even expect it. Oh lord, that was just so...so raw."

"I'm...I'm sorry." Paris attempted an apology, but was quickly silenced with a kiss upon her cheek. "I...I have in the past had some thoughts and my mind, it's...abnormally tuned, I think." She paused for a few breaths, to compose herself again. "To tell you the truth, I have talked to my therapist and my gyno about it. They think it has something to do with a few anti-depressants I took during the divorce darkness, but I had it before then. I just manage to keep it in control in public, but...I get a thought in my mind outside the setting of school and places like that and suddenly...just a bare touch like that can set me off."

"It's beautiful," Lorelai admitted, pecking the girl on the lips and smiling. "Oh my gosh, I would have never thought in any way. So you can do it even without direct stimulation."

"I have. Even last week I was driving home from the rehearsal, nothing but a stray thought of you. Just suddenly it triggered and I had to pull off to the side of the Cross to let it pass through me."

"It's your drive. You get so intense and suddenly you're having a stray thought and your body is telling you to relax?"

"I don't know exactly what it is. I was able to keep it under very good control with Jamie. But with you, my body feels like keeping it in would overwhelm me. I know it will pass, but I'm not kidding. I have had quite a few of those the last few weeks. I..." A blush colored her cheeks. "There was even one that I was at the dinner table with Mother, and one thought of your putting your toes against me beneath the table, it was too much. I had to bite down hard on my brisket while I let it pass."

"Is it wrong that I'm so turned on by this?" Lorelai wondered.

"Not really. I'd be embarrassed with anyone else. Somehow you're just wrapped up in this full heightened sexuality where I can't stop picturing the two of us in this passion we have." She felt ready to settle down again, slipping off her sandals, still chagrined she had triggered a bit fast. "I find it a bit abnormal, but I've been so reserved and closed in for so long. Maybe this is my id's way of telling me to open myself up to new things?"

"Your id speaks well." She took in the post-orgasmic state of her lover, still trying to figure out how the barest of touches sent her over the edge. "Do you know how gorgeous you look when you come?"

"You don't mean that."

"Your bottom lip puckers out, your breasts just tighten up within and you just take on this aura of calm that I swear should be painted. And your face is just so sexual and raw, like you know you're ruined and you don't care who knows it."

"It's an orgasm. It shouldn't be hidden," Paris responded. "My body apparently is catching up with my soul. What I'm feeling." She stretched out on the bench, content that her lover thought her ordinary in at least that one sense. "And I'm not ashamed of you. Far from it, Wonder Woman." She felt warm, emboldened. Her heart swelled as Lorelai and her continued to chat, both of them finding that they were more kindred than they ever would have thought, just going on about nothing and everything. They walked around the greenhouse, unconcerned about the fading time, knowing they would find a way to stretch it out. Lorelai took in all the beautiful flowers while brushing at Paris's daisy occasionally, holding her hand, doing all she could to show that she didn't want this to end.

A half-hour later, they were in a corner of the greenhouse in an outdoor sofa with soft cushions, which was incredibly comfortable, looking out in the mid-afternoon sunlight towards the outside gardens. Lorelai had a deep red carnation resting in her hand, a surprising gift offered by the blonde to show how she felt for her. Lorelai thanked her for the gesture and placed it in her hair, letting Paris enjoy the feeling herself of presenting a simple gift to her lover. They discussed the inn further, what Lorelai planned for it, while Paris discussed more of her plans for Yale and how she felt pleased she had firmed up a single dorm for herself.

"How did you pull that off?" Lorelai asked. "Richard begged Harvard to let Rory live alone but they stuck her in a quad."

"I just stated my history of being acidic to roommates and feeling like I'd lose sight of my goal as my stoner roommate had endless sex with her washout video store clerk boyfriend. I may be a last minute accepter, but I know I'm not pledging. I don't like having a roommate. I just want to enjoy my music at night while I study and plug in day in and day out. If I want to socialize I'll do it in the dining hall or go to a club on campus. But I live better alone."

"You sure you won't feel isolated?"

"I'm sure. I've been used to going at it alone for the last two years, what with my mother's non-existent love for me. I don't mind being with myself at all."

"Dirty!" Lorelai laughed as Paris rolled her eyes.

"Somehow I expected that." She shook her head and just went with the humor of the optimistic woman. "I'm surprised that I didn't have to give the usual donation to score the single. I think someone scandaled out of their acceptance and I took their place. Works for me, certainly."

"So I guess this means...I might be able to have a sleepover with you a few times a month?" Lorelai was hopeful for Paris to read her signs. "Because I really love slumber parties."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind if you came over. But they're wouldn't be much sleeping." The blonde winked uncharacteristically.

"No sleeping? But what would we do then, Paris? I mean I'm just a responsible adult and you're a responsible teenager. Whatever could we ever do to pass the time? Board games? Staring contests? Messing with the spirits of the night with an Ouija board?"

"I'm sure we could come up with something," Paris said, relaxing against the long weatherproof couch and laying down. "After all I do need study breaks. They are highly suggested to prevent burning out."

"And I certainly cannot spend all day at the Dragonfly; I would go insane."

"So what would we do, Lor?" She took Lorelai by the waist to bring her above her. "I don't see you helping me out with incredibly complicated case studies unless they involved junk food. Nor could I see you enjoying the nuances never caught within a symphony."

"I don't know, Paris. I think we're at an impasse here." Her hands slid beneath her back as she tried to find the buttons and tie holding the dress to her lover's generous curves. "We will never figure out what we could possibly do in a dorm room, all alone, with a lock on the door preventing a nosy RA from busting in on us." She began to straddle herself over Paris, careful to position herself on the slim piece of furniture so she wouldn't fall off.

"I think you are right." She smiled, feeling an incredible sense of want and desire. But she also felt a need to take over the situation, mainly because of one factor. "Lorelai?"


"I'm can see your breasts."

"You can see my breasts?" Lorelai seductively cast aside the ever falling strap of her camisole and tossed her hair back a bit. "Maybe you shouldn't have picked out such a slinky and alluring top for me. Once which you knew might trigger your orgasmic reflex all over again."

"Maybe you should stop being such a hot lady," Paris quipped. "Or having a body that I just want to completely pepper over with my lips."

"You'd love to do that, would you, Par? Just have me naked all the time, no clothes?"

"Oh, certain clothes." She smiled as she grasped at the belt loops of the jeans. "Alluring jeans like this, tight yet sinful short skirts, those cute and obscene t-shirts you wear."

"Excuse me! That MILF t-shirt was not obscene."

"I agree. But it did obscene things to your breasts. How you ever got away with wearing it when you chaperoned us to a Red Sox game, I will never figure out." She turned the woman around fully, now being the one on top. "I'm surprised you didn't get dragged into Charleston's office for wearing it."

"Are you kidding? Paris, hon? Do you remember he thought that the scrunchie denoted something sexual and impure for ten years? It's going to take him awhile to figure out what that term means."

"One I don't like using myself, but you are one," Paris admitted. "How do you feel right now?" She slid her arms up Lorelai's sides, beneath the camisole. "And I'm afraid I don't like to do whatever it does. I actually love doing it. It's a pleasure, almost a daily need to do so."

"We could come up with a new one, just between us. Fine Innkeeper I Love to Ravage Until She Can't Take Anymore."

"FILRUSCTA? It does roll off the tongue quite well. But..." Brushing her fingers beneath the underside of Lorelai's breasts, she felt desire heat within her eyes. "Let's replace 'ravage' with 'bang'."

A deep shudder from the older woman. Hearing Paris say the word without much ceremony and so much passion struck her deeply. "You don't bullshit at all, I'll give you that. FILBUSCTA sounds a little more...perfect."

"It does." She placed her leg against the core of her lover. "And I always get what I want."


"Always." A quick little kiss, and a smile. "You never will turn me down." Brushing a hand against the carnation in Lorelai's hair, she felt unlike she ever had before. "Could you have ever imagined that 'unbutton your top' would have lead to...this?"

"I used to tremble from your voice. Now I tremble from what you do to me." Whispered, Lorelai took in the girl in front of her, displaying dark brown eyes and the freckles on her nose looking so adorably cute. Her eyes fell to Paris's cleavage, on full display and she couldn't deny it any longer.

This is more than just experimentation now. I feel it. About to close in on each other the women prepared for the last time they'd make love before August.

That was, they were about to. Then they were interrupted as Paris remembered what the time was.

It's 3:00pm. That click, I know it. What is it...oh, shit.

There was one last moment of pause as Paris was prepared to take evasive action. But the click told her she was already far from too late. There was no time for a warning at all.

Before Lorelai could realize what was about to occur...


"Lorelai--" There was an attempt at a warning, but it came moments too late. Before Paris could move a muscle, the greenhouse's sprinkler system activated.

DAMN IT! I just cannot ever win! Paris cursed her luck anew as the misty showering of the sprinklers activated above her and sprayed the entire greenhouse. She let out an annoyed grunt, feeling her sexual urges immediately plunge as the water soaked her body.

"You...you didn't know about the sprinklers, did you?" Lorelai wondered, noticing the annoyed look coloring her lover's face. "Or you did and I made you forget?"

"I knew," Paris said. "I really did know. But I guess my inner vixen decided to give me a temporary memory loss so I could...I could..."

She had expected the mood to immediately plunge. As water sprayed upon her, her expectation was that the atmosphere was completely ruined.

Lorelai's stare was suggesting otherwise. Her lips pursed out and her eyes wide open, she just looked up, and then down, at the water raining down upon the blonde. Her hair was now wet, the pure water filtered through so the greenhouse's plants need not have one dose of chlorine or fluoride giving the small woman a sheen that was intense.

Her breath quickened as she felt the temperature of the water.

It's cold. Very, very cold. When there is cold water, there's...

"Oh fuck." The whispered words reminded Lorelai why she never swam in the cold waters of the ponds of the Hollow, ever. The water in those bodies of water never went over 75°, and remembering the teasing a certain Digger Stiles gave her in her high school years...

"Lorelai, you OK?"

If Lorelai had an answer, she didn't know. All she knew was the water was cold, they were both in an intimate clench, and there was one more thing they now both shared beyond their attraction. A couple minutes after the sprinklers activated their watering cycle, Lorelai was chilly with Paris, but at the same time, sort of embarrassed.

"Oh my God." She felt intenseness brought within her, residing in dormancy for so long. A turn-on that had been asserted as a turn-off to everyone else she ever knew, but suddenly was out front in center with her new lover.

As they both dampened in the spray, they felt themselves move closer and closer, their eyes intense. Their clothes quickly soaked through and nothing could be hidden any longer. The heat in their gazes, the pull they felt towards each other.

The mood was far from dead. Where it had been a bit muted from all those hours before, there was now a hard hot look they shared that was apparent through the dripping of droplets of water onto the plants and the concrete floor.

What the dress did for Paris before was a distant memory. With the water soaking it through, there was nothing to do but for Lorelai to admire what lay beneath the sundress.

Taking her hand hard, the brunette, with jeans quickly soaking through and camisole all but done for, decided to take action.

"How long are these on?" Lorelai asked.

"F-f-f-fifteen minutes." Paris felt cold from the spray. "W-w-w-we could go back to the garden hou--" Her words were cut off as Lorelai rose to get up, knowing there was no time to waste at all. Pulled up, she couldn't help but feel a smidge of desire through her veins as the innkeeper decided to take what usually would be a mortifying situation and make more than the best of it.

"Enough time." Strong arms gripped at her wrists, she found herself pushed towards the corner of a greenhouse, where a few orchids and azaleas were growing. Feeling aggressive, Lorelai pushed the trays aside as far as she could. A couple dropped to the ground but she was unconcerned with what her actions were doing; by the time she got back in August those orchids would be grown anew. Dirt splashed from the plant trays onto both of them as it tumbled. Paris found herself on a sudden seat as Lorelai came near her.

The woman quickly stripped herself of the damp top in a seductive manner, her eyes twinkling with mischief as Paris felt a sudden rush of nervousness course through her. Suddenly feeling in a literal corner, she knew that Lorelai wasn't going to go easy on her.

Tossing the shirt to the side, Lorelai knew where Paris's eyes were immediately.

"Like getting a view of the umlats?" She pushed her breasts together seductively as the shower of the sprinklers coated her body with water which seemed to sparkle upon her skin. "I know you're feeling so hot right now, but embarrassed. But don't be mortified you forgot a silly little thing like sprinkler timing." Her hand trailed down her stomach as she stepped closer and closer to the blonde, who was literally speechless.

Their wavelength seemed to connect as Lorelai moved closer to her prey. Paris felt embarrassed about her features standing out fully, her face damp, hair unruly, and her posture very unladylike. There was also the little matter of her legs being completely open and the skirt of the dress hitching up to mid-thigh, giving Lorelai move of a view of her legs than the dress ever intended.

"You always seem to act on the scout pledge of 'be prepared'," she intoned, her eyes boring into the blonde as she began to take advantage of Paris's suggestive pose. "But you should know the best love is always made in places where you don't expect it, and in different ways." Paris found her vision focused not on her surroundings, but fully on Lorelai. Specifically droplets of water sliding seductively from the ridge of her belly button and lower against the waist of her pants. "It shouldn't be scheduled. It doesn't have to be in a bed. And it sure as fuck doesn't have to be anywhere outside of finals. Because if you would have called me during that time, I would have certainly responded. My phone was ready, I was ready, and you definitely need to get out of this rut Jamie and Mommy Gellar put you in that sex is between two people on a comfortable surface."

Paris felt herself pushed up against the glass of the greenhouse, her back pushed against it. Lorelai stretched out against her, her mouth moving very close as she found the girl's breathing quicken. "We're not going back to the garden house. We're not going back to the big house. You're an intelligent young woman with a healthy sex drive who would probably love it if the last time she saw the woman giving her so much pleasure fucked her brains out in the corner of a greenhouse. Imagine taking that memory to your grave...here lies Paris Gellar. Lorelai screwed her next to the geraniums, both of them with flowers in their hair."

"Lor..." Her voice tightened to the limits, she felt the heat radiating from Lorelai's body. The temptation to end the situation was very little, a thin tether. Lorelai's hand brushed her face, taking a few stray hairs out of the way.

"Give in to me," she intoned tightly, pressing herself close against the smaller girl. "Stop letting routine define you. There's a passion within you screaming to get out. Although I'm heartened by your chivalry with me I know you want to do things. Very naughty things." She smiled as her hand hitched the dress up Paris's right leg. "I bet if this were anyone else you would have fled long ago. Or they would have been cursing at you for being so stupid to walk into a greenhouse with sprinklers on."

"You really think that I planned this?" Paris's voice was somewhat tight, afraid that Lorelai had thought it too much of a coincidence.

"I know you didn't. And I don't care." She took in Paris dampening further, the dress clinging against her tightly as her other hand circled across the front of the dress. Her fingertips explored the light fabric in awe of the curves she had become very familiar with in the last four weeks. The dress had hid all when it was dry, but when wet it turned into a slinky and seductive second skin upon the blushing young woman. "You treat me so well, and I wish to return the favor to you." Her mouth curled mischievously into a grin as her nails curled around the tip of a nipple, fully erect and transparent through the dress.

"Oh God!" Her even voice was strained and Paris didn't want to lose control. "Ms. Gilmorrre..." Drawing out the proper name, she didn't know how Lorelai would react.

"Y'know, I said something about you calling me that being so improper and annoying to me." The older woman closed her eyes as she moved to press her lips upon her lover. "I was wrong. When you call me that you make me sound like I'm corrupting you." She kissed the girl, drawing a breath softly against puffy lips. "Wanting to abandon your former self. The one that was reserved and held everything close, but was prone to anger." Another kiss. "Do I make you feel like a bad girl, Par?"

"Y-y-yess..." Paris shivered from both the cold water and the emotions of the kiss. "I'm s-s-s-ooo wet right now."

"From how I look at you?" The blonde nodded as Lorelai pushed aside the dress to breach her modesty. "How I think of you?" She moved in closer, peeling the damp dress from soft, damp skin along her inner thighs. "Reach back for me."

Paris shuddered from the intense gaze coloring Lorelai's deep blue eyes. She felt as if she was nude already, the woman undressing her through the transparent fabric. Everything was there for her to scrutinize, from her breasts down to her stomach.

But one point wasn't obvious until she felt a hand brush upon it as she unzipped the dress.

"Damn it! Lor...lor...oh shit..." Her hushed voice was strained as the carnation-coiffed older woman discovered something new.

"Aren't we glad your mother isn't here?" A teasing finger broke a bit through bare folds, Paris's outer lips unencumbered by anything at all. She dipped a bit further, noticing a slight difference from the evening before. "I take it your enjoying this concept of finding underwear an unneeded layer in certain situations."

"I...am..." She gripped hard against the end of the shelving, Lorelai manipulating her digits to brush on the outer portion of her intimacy. "Fuck!"

"And you came out here a little more shorn."

"Just...a little line...for hygienic...purposes." She pushed herself against Lorelai's two offered fingers as she struggled to unzip the dress the rest of the way down. "There was a point to it..uugggh."

"To tease me?"

"No...on the construction site...legs rubbing each day...need a...clean...carpet...shit." Lorelai pulled against Paris, pressing her leg hard against the blonde. "Fuck, I wanna cum again!"

"Can't wait?"

"No...oh God, no...no..." Her eyes rolled back as she felt delirious while the water pounded against her body. Any chance for leverage ended with her hands slipping from the shelf edge and Lorelai having to hold her at the waist. The top of the dress was peeled off with haste as Lorelai pushed her leg in against her wetness, peppering the bared skin in front of her with kisses.

Tasting of the dampened skin, Lorelai couldn't think of any better way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Her other hand caressed Paris through her hair, while she wrapped her legs around Paris to provide her support while she rubbed against Lorelai's jeaned thigh.

Soon that wasn't enough. "OFF!" She groaned out, desperate and needy. With the dress undone and quickly falling from her form, she grabbed at Lorelai's fly and undid the button and zipper, pushing the wet denim down halfway her legs. Immediately she pushed her thigh through the small space between the jeans and Lorelai's legs. She tried to hold herself back, her mind seeming to be anywhere else but holding back.

She pushed against the newly bared leg and closed her eyes as Lorelai's hot flesh tightened against her legs in a position reminiscent of suction.

"Don't hold back for me, Par," Lorelai growled out, struggling to stay up in the jeans as the cold water compressed them against her legs. "Let yourself get into it, baby." She purposefully rocked against her, scraping her teeth upon her nipples in circular motions. "I'm here for you...this is so hot...yeah...yeah, P, fuck my thigh, soak it deep."


"Go for it," she demanded. "Don't bubble it up. Let it rip out." She pushed the leg in and out faster and faster, pushing it as close against the blonde's pussy as deeply as she could.

"My...cunt...is...good God...fuck..."

Lorelai lifted the dress further, pulling it over her rear to almost completely bare the younger woman. Scrunched like a bag around her midsection, she almost forgot the article as Lorelai growled at her to open her legs up as far as she could. The jeans were down to her ankles and then undone completely, leaving nothing keeping Paris apart from her lover. The viscosity of the water was overwhelming, the heat of the greenhouse warming Paris's back.

"Could you just imagine...somebody watching us," Lorelai suggested with a whisper as she kept her pace. "All of these windows, nobody else here. But you know if someone was looking from outside that they would be turned on. Seeing a Chilton mother fucking you so hard you see stars."

"Lor.." She was pushed against the glass wall as tightly as possible. "I...don't wanna."

"You wanna. You wanna so much. Your mind is saying hell no, your body hardly agrees. Can't hold it anymore, no need to keep abstinent to ruin your test prep on-track." Reaching back she kept a hold on the girl by softly pulling at her hair. "No need to hold yourself back on my account. I want you so bad...I want you all the time."

"You...don't...want...me," Paris argued.

"All of you. Every fucking part of you. To see that o-face, to watch and feel how you cum." Paris yelped as tingles spread throughout her scalp. "Get me all nice and messy, because I need this. I need this now. I need you to just relax yourself and don't you dare hold back. No grades, no hate, no bitterness. Ride me hard...yeah, like that...that's good...oh God, I love feeling your cunt against me, legs closing into mine...fuck me, Paris. Fuck my body however you want."

"Lor...oh God, Lor..." Lorelai was warmed, her raw sweat permeating Paris's nostrils. "Please...let me...let me do...something...else."

"Not now, let it out. Just go with it. Don't button up. Let me feel you spill over."

"I want...you...to...please, baby...please...ohhhh...ohhh...ugggh!!" She wanted to slow things down but her heart was speaking for her. She pulled Lorelai close as she could with her hands on the taller woman's waist as her self-control began to slip with Lorelai's daring actions. "Oh lord...ohhhhh...ohhhhhh...ohhh."

"Do it for me. Get this all, God, you look so beautiful all wet..."

"Wet for you..."

"Soaked to the bone, all ruined, not decent at all. Could never imagine you like this in Chilton."

"Never...in Chilton."

"You're growing beyond what you were. What you will be is passionate, driven, utterly unstoppable." Another tug on her hair, a bit stronger. "Louise would blush if she saw us like this."

"Fuck!" She screamed harshly, a thought of the flirty tease near her. "No...no...no...all yourrrrs...nobody else, Lor...never, ever."

Harder strokes, deeper pushes within. "All mine?"

"I'm yours," Paris confessed, her eyes closed shut. "Louise...cute...you...intelligent...and burning...hot."

"Wanna see you cum," she rushed out, her heart rate racing. "My summer girl spilling all over."

"Want you." The blonde was begging now. "Want this...want so...much more." Deeper and deeper, she felt hands upon her soft ass, thumbs circling softly just above the most sensitive portion of her flesh. Her breasts bounced in a rhythm, pounding against Lorelai in a metronome-like beat as she slid herself in and out against her lover. Her eyes were still closed, her body warm, back hot from the heat upon the windows. Soon her eyes began to tighten, and her body went ridged slowly.

"Feeling you about to cum...get over it for me. Just ride right over it." The spray of the sprinkling unit continued to overwhelm the situation. They were then pressed against each other, sharing deep and fully wanton kisses without any reservation, lips being bitten, friction and heat overwhelming them.

"FUCK IT!" Paris felt she needed more room so she unexpectedly pushed aside another few flowers off the shelf, letting the pots shatter to the ground before. Holding the woman for dear life they moved into a reclining position upon the shelf, Paris praying their weight would hold on the metal structure topped with finished plywood. They found a new leverage quickly, along with a wonderful bed-like creak as Lorelai pushed against Paris, who was only too happy to lend a leg for further sexual activity.

Soon with a shot, Paris was at her limit. Scraping her nails against Lorelai's back she had an orgasm much harder than her first earlier, shaking violently as she felt the tightness of her pussy release. She didn't let it out slowly and pushed herself hard against her lover as she found herself right above a sprinkler head. Thrashing to and fro, her ass circling the surface of the shelf, she felt Lorelai tightening the dress within her fists...

And then tearing it quickly off her in a speedy tear from the zipper to the hem.

"See you all," she explained simply as Paris felt yet another unstoppable contraction from the tear. She felt the force of fluid as Lorelai withdrew her leg from her and ended up watching as her body betrayed her conservative nature once again. The simple tear triggered animalistic desires within her.

She took Lorelai with her, pushing in hands to fuck the innkeeper ever deeper than she had the previous night. Still riding out her come she let her own fluids drip against her older lover's pussy and used them to slicken the slit. Three fingers immediately pushed in as she took new control, wordless as Lorelai couldn't dare interrupt her student's progress. She felt a powerful spasm in her body being atop Paris, a position she had never been in before during sex. A hand pounding within her, three fingers inside while her index finger and thumb circled around her clit.

"Aaauuuggghh!" Both women were in full ecstasy as the overwhelming desire they both felt for each other came out in full force, both of them pushing hard and fast against each other until the inevitable collision between them.

Lorelai didn't think she was at her peak by any means, but it was obvious that Paris was entirely different from anyone else she had before. The very stare of deep brown eyes penetrating her gaze, teeth scraping against her jaw line, the feeling of soft flesh within her hand, there was nothing more that she wanted in the world at that moment.

Her mind was a kaleidoscope of thoughts, of how she always found love at the wrong time, and of how love for her often resulted in consequences she was unprepared to deal with. Moving towards a hilt she hadn't fathomed 26 hours ago when she was picking at her torte in front of Emily, she could have never thought in her entire lifetime that it would be a girl like Paris who would let her be her full self.

The young mother tried to hold in her emotions as best she could, not wanting to ruin anything. But Europe overwhelmed her in that moment. The regret of leaving a relationship that was burning bright, even in its infancy. Of leaving behind a driven young woman who was still finding herself, alone in the world, all who surrounded her leaving for other places across the country.

Lorelai came powerfully against Paris's fingers, but also felt tears streak down her face as all that she had dealt with in the last few months, hidden deep within her soul, also flooded through her. Screaming against the girl's shoulder, scratches marring the blonde's clear skin, with somebody else entirely Lorelai would have had to deal with a talk that would quickly devolve into a shouting match.

Instead, that thread the heiresses of Hartford share, young or old, was tied around them. The hesitation, the lack of any more profanity, the sounds of sobbing instead of relief. Oh, Lor. Paris knew there was something wrong immediately. Letting the woman ride out the waves, she had to assure Lorelai that what they had now would not disappear anytime soon. She clutched the taller woman against her, all thoughts of the setting forgotten, a hand brushing aside a stray lock of hair in front of Lorelai's eyes and placing the flower back in within the space between her temple and her ear.

"Everything will work," Paris assured, her face flushed from cold, but her passion for the woman burning bright. "We'll get through this."

"I'm in Europe," Lorelai reminded her. "Europe. An ocean...apart. I wish I could just cancel. That the airline we're on would break down at Logan...we couldn't go. I...I want to put off...a trip...I want you, sweetie...and...and..." She cried uncontrollably, sobbing against Paris's shoulder, mumbling randomly about the trip and how she didn't want to go.

At that moment, Lorelai wasn't talking to the Paris Gellar she knew as her daughter's arch enemy. That girl had disintegrated before her eyes in the space of only fifty hours in their view and many minutes on the phone.

She couldn't hold back any longer. In that short of a time, Lorelai had found in Paris someone who was there for her and made her stronger. She had friends in Stars Hollow that she earned through the years. But she always felt those friendships were formed more out of sympathy for her predicament than anything else.

Her younger friends had all abandoned her the moment her pregnancy was revealed. Not one of her girls room cohorts ever came to the mansion to see her child. Rory had no godparents, nobody with the will to jump over the gossip circle and give Lorelai that true friend she wanted and yearned for.

Sookie was her best friend, but could never understand the pain she went through for all of those years. Slowly calming herself down, she continued to cry against her younger paramour, letting all of her stress spill out. The doubts about the inn, the dreams she had about being within the Independence in a locked room as fire raced through the edifice. How she didn't want to be under the thumb of her mother, but had to be to have her daughter's dreams come true.

She had thought of nothing but everyone else for eighteen long years. Her dreams were never under serious consideration by her parents; she was to become what they wanted her to be.

And love? It was an afterthought, a fear. The wedding dress never worn, the signs from others that they wanted to date her ignored. She wanted a father for her child. She wanted somebody dependable In her life.

If she felt butterflies, it didn't matter to her. The 'father figure' factor came first, then the dizziness of love. And often that dizziness was cured once the reality set in; the reality of whether Rory could stand to have that other person in their home or call them her father.

Thin hands splayed across her back, while her body overwhelmed the other by seven inches. She cried deeply, letting everything come out as the sprinklers continued to spray them. Skin against skin, heart to heart. She heard Paris whisper into her ear that it was fine to show weakness, something she never dare expected.

"We're both ready to start over," she soothed, the water dripping down from her. "I never expected to have my life reset like this...to end my time in school in this way, in your arms. To find you to be beautiful and such a wonderful woman. But I'm here for you, Lor. I'm going to be in New Haven and if you ever just need an ear, I'll lend it."

"You...mean that?"

The girl nodded, her breath still rushed and her body still recovering. "We're friends. Friends are always there for each other."



Lorelai held her close. "Paris, you aren't my friend." She knew she was defeating Paris with those words, and she felt her grow tight.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice picked up volume and she prepared to fly into a panic.

"Friends don't have the connection we have..." Her words still soft, she closed her eyes, pulled Paris close, and with a simple kiss, stilled her from moving any further.

"Lovers do."

Lorelai knew she was being impulsive, probably stupid. But hearing over the last few hours that Paris was going to make it work, she had to stake her claim. To keep her heart, she had to give it away and know it was in good hands. Looking into deep eyes, she brushed Paris's cheek with her hand and then caressed the petals of the daisy which remained in her hair. The fragile flower held together, along with her want and need for the new graduate.

"I would never say these words on the first date. They're the ones I fear saying the most. But I don't feel it with you. I...I can't deny what I feel anymore."

She took one last breath before admitting that which she needed to say before leaving the soil of the United States.

"If this day is the last time I ever see you, I will not leave you without saying this..." She rose up, along with Paris, and upon the shelf, clutched her hand within the younger woman's.

It was likely the most serious moment she ever shared in years.

"I love you, Paris. I don't want to leave you, but I want you to know in such a short time, I've fallen in love with you."

Moments later, the sprinklers petered out. The air of the room was still moist, the scent of the flowers mixing and overwhelming the dew of the atmosphere. The late spring day outside was as normal as could be and Stars Hollow was a half hour away.

Those were the facts. The things Paris considered immediately as the three words spilled from Lorelai's throat.

Looking at the woman in front of her, who only months ago watched her in her worst moment of agony upon that stage. She thought in that short a time, she would have been able to move on from the Gilmores and head off to college, a new life ahead of her.

She had not told Lorelai that Yale was chosen based on that small 1% factor of actually continuing to have Lorelai in her life. She knew she didn't have to, as it could remain unsaid for eternity. The girl had told her images of the woman behind her helped influence her choice.

In the deepest part of her soul, she craved safety. The comfort of having someone there for her, a hand to hold at her worst moment. She had never told of the betrayal she felt when Rory decided to go to Harvard, of how 'it's a big school' turned into 'it's a big region, this New England.' She held out a modicum of hope that Rory would make the right choice and not stab her in the heart by going to the school she had wanted to attend for years.

She felt bitter when she chose Jess and the lameness of the Stars Hollow Prom instead of going to Chilton's prom. Going all alone with Jamie, feeling like he was asserting the helicopter as a sincere gesture when she just found it as an extension of his non-existent cock size.

Her love for Jamie was never true. Her friendship with Rory was built on assumptions and hopes that Rory would break through her wall and get to know her for who she truly was.

But when Lorelai made that breakthrough that one afternoon in a stifling room, she knew at that moment that she had ignored Rory's pre-conceptions of her. They had survived eight hours together and the worst thing she could think about was the count of a cashbox. Not of anything else. Not of Lorelai ever doing anything wrong.

And Lorelai had allowed her to confide in her. No questions asked, no blurting her worries to the entire dining hall. Their past was only that, their past. She always knew the breakup was inevitable and that soon she would find herself and Lorelai in a position like they were.

She would have never thought Lorelai Gilmore would do anything more than humor her. Or even find the concept of having sex with another woman, much less her daughter's friend, intriguing. Their repartee was built on being witty and true to themselves. But it was also filled with passion, a want to have a debate partner that they didn't have to work their schedules around.

Paris stared at Lorelai, entranced. Her eyes fell to the carnation within her hair. Her breathing was heavy, her body pocked with scars and bruises from their physical and beautiful lovemaking. She didn't hold back her lust for the woman at all until her eyes fell upon the flower. They paused.

Eyes communicated. Lorelai felt that sting, that yearning that had been missing for so long. Why with her she was sure she could never figure out. Paris's lip trembled as her hands took in the texture of the flower, the simple gift that hid more than just that small gesture. She sucked in her mouth, knowing rejection was far away, but with her next statement she would be spending the summer checking her phone for news alerts, along with CNN every day and night to know someone close to her was safe.

She tried to hold herself back, that harsh voice of Sharon Gellar in her head reminding her that she was not to show emotion. If she could hold it in and stay strong, she might show superiority between them.

We're equal. Her conscience, which had been against her for so long, began to come around in that moment. The press of fingers in her palm, intense eyes upon her in a way she always craved, it was a sign that around Lorelai, she didn't have to be Le Pitbull. She just had to be herself.

She attempted to block the stirring, but her emotions were in sync with her heart. She couldn't stand holding back any longer, and she teared up, her face in anguish, her heart completely open.

"I don't want...you to leave..." She had been weak when Jamie broke up with her. But in this moment she was strong as Lorelai took Paris into her arms and let the reality of the situation sink in. Her heart broke for the blonde as she knew this would be the final time until August that they would be in each other's presence. Openly sobbing, Lorelai followed and began to cry again.

She loved her accomplishments, but hated that when she found happiness it was always rudely stripped from her. Both women held each other tight, breathing each other in and needing that bare thread of contact between their bodies for the last time. Nothing was said, Paris bawling openly against Lorelai's shoulder within the deep afterglow of their lovemaking and confronting the finality of the situation. Lorelai hugged the girl tightly, caressing her dampened hair and showing how much love she did hold for the raw young woman in just the short amount of time they had known each other. She felt soft busses against her shoulder, a sliding of her tongue against the blade.

Lorelai knew that they were intense lovers. That Paris was in the relationship, heart and soul. Her hand upon her back, she felt her eyes raw from all of the shed tears. She didn't know what the future held, but the certainty there would hopefully be a future held her to be protective of her.

It took Paris awhile to settle down, letting the emotions of the week finally spill out, all of them seemingly incoherent. But Lorelai kept her in her grasp, not once having a thought of pulling away as her soul was poured out upon her shoulder. Her breath began to normalize and her grip slipped away as Paris began to calm herself with her usual thumb in the palm technique. Her eyes fluttered as she squeezed the last tears from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said, feeling the need to apologize through a newly sore throat. "I...I didn't mean..."

"It's OK." Lorelai smiled at her, leaving the words unsaid. "You're not weak in my eyes at all." Her own demeanor was quiet and reserved, and also a bit embarrassed. "I guess we're both hardly done here."

"There's still so much we have to go over." The blonde stretched her stiff body out. "Why is it we always have such lousy timing in our relationships?"

"I don't know. Guess we're cursed."

"Our parentage proves that. At least maternally."

"Sharon and Emily continuously make us feel miserable for going through their wombs, I think." Lorelai laughed softly. "How is it we're saner than them?"

"It's a secret we only know, but we're not telling."

Paris then brought her attention to the flower again, brushing the edge of the carnation with her thumb, droplets of water trickling down from the bud. Her gaze was intense, drawing Lorelai in to look at her as she smiled.

"Whatever the case, the flower has a message within it. More than a gift. It came from my heart."

"I know." Both of them were entranced. "If there's one thing I learned through the hundreds of weddings at the Independence, it's the meaning of flowers and that they have entire language of their own that's unsaid."

"So...what does that carnation say about how I feel for you?" she whispered, her hand sliding within Lorelai's once again.

"That you have an affection for me that runs very deep and consumes your very being." She clasped the hand deeply within hers. "It has taken you over and there's nary a thought of Jamie any longer. You only think of me and that there's a deep caring in your heart that you can't explain, but in all this time you've felt more between us than you ever did anybody else."

"Also, that I love you, Lorelai." Saying it softly, she knew the hotelier was dancing around the second meaning. "And I do. When I saw you last afternoon I thought I could evade much longer. But now, if I didn't say it before you left, I would regret it for the rest of my days." She shook her head. "And here Rory reminded me that the Gilmores had a long-lived aversion to confessing love."

"Don't remind me. That wasn't my fault. I just only say it when I know that it's true. She should have said it when it was right. But she heightens everything wrong about me and it hurts to have her make these assumptions about my emotions." Taking a couple of deep breaths, she felt whole again. "I...I don't know what happens from here. I'm scared to death to lose contact with you, and angry that the only way I'll only be able to contact you is through letters mailed in the middle of the night or phone calls I have to make under her nose. I hate that I have to hide you. I hate that you have to shield your true self until Yale starts."

"I hate that you even have to leave. That I'm going to go back to normal because without you here I will lose my perspective.”

"I hate the thought of not waking up to you. Or hearing you dream."

"I hate that I won't taste of coffee upon your breath for two months."

"I hate that I won't be able to spend an entire evening entertained by just us, together, talking about everything."

"I hate how my heart swells upon seeing your name and I have to hide the squeal I want to let out fully."

Resting upon each other's foreheads, they felt that deep longing between them again.

"I hate that I have to leave you," Lorelai said, her voice slightly breaking.

"I hate we have to put everything on pause for two months."

"But I love you."

"I love you too." Kissing, the two women were lost in each other's eyes. The greenhouse was a mess, their clothes ruined, fingers wrinkling and the showers of earlier completely wasted. But in that moment, with each other in a room all alone, away from the world at large, they felt completely at ease, not wanting to drift away, the effects of twenty hours together showing that there was going to be much more to what may have been once upon a time, a one-time thing.

Both of them determined in that moment that they would not see their love end that day. All qualms were pushed aside, and as Lorelai whispered something into Paris's ear, the petite woman blushed deeply at what was suggested within those words. A month before the very idea would have been bitterly rejected.

But as they both gathered their clothes and Paris wrote a note on the dry erase board to the gardener claiming raccoons had gotten into the greenhouse, she deeply laughed out loud, glad for once for letting herself go. She knew she was going down a path her mother didn't want her to even sight from afar.

As they both left the greenhouse with their clothes in a ball, both women had no care to the fact they were walking the grounds of the gardens in nothing much, the sun kissing their skin and the atmosphere of the yard light and free.

It was a feeling that Lorelai hadn't experienced in twenty years. And for the first time in her young lifetime, Paris felt the pull of rebellion being a wonderful thing...

...and she could enjoy the very naughty things that her lover suggested they attempt within the garden before they finally had to take their leave.

Great Room, 5:55pm

"Yes, I'm on my way. Look, I'm sorry if I'm putting a crimp in things--God, I will be home, kiddo, I promise. Yes...I promise. Love you too." Closing the clamshell hard, Lorelai let out a loud grunt of annoyance after explaining to Rory that she had decided to take the scenic road home from Hartford to have time to herself.

"She's pervasive," Paris commented as Lorelai tossed the device onto the coffee table. "You'd think after eighteen years she'd be thankful to cut the cord. I know I am."

"I would think so too. I can't move to Boston to baby her every day. Sometimes I feel like she enjoys rubbing her monogamy in my face." Huffing, Lorelai crossed her arms across her chest. Wearing yet another one of Sharon's shopaholic spree-acquired tops, she felt the frustrations of Rory's current behavior continue to manifest within her. "I'm sorry if I'm not acquiescing to her dream that her father and I finally marry. Not when he has a child with another woman he cares for, and especially not when I don't feel a thing with him."

"I don't understand her. She keeps talking about being the next Amanpour, but at this point I feel like I'm watching her become a Natalie to Jess's Chet. I don't see it ending well, no matter her altruistic allusions into getting him into BC. I know that he'll do well in a setting where he doesn't have to listen to inane ramblings by an instructor if he doesn't want to." Theorizing further, she explained that Rory's tutoring style was off-base. "I consider myself a friend to him, and he felt like Rory put too much pressure on him to pass those exams. I personally think summer school would have been a better setting for him since that principal of his was nowhere to be found, but Rory was all 'June or die,' like summer school was something to be ashamed of. It isn't."

"So you think he should've eased off the throttle this last semester and maybe waited to get into college until winter?"

"I think he'll do fine, but he would have been more comfortable getting in during January than August. I watched Rory tutor him and she rode him too hard. It's a wonder the poor guy hasn't collapsed from being smothered by her."

"See, that's how I've been seeing it!" Her eyes lit up as Paris sat next to her. "She's spent too much time with him because she's under this assumption that she's not there, his eyes wander and he has competition. It's like when I was with Max, he needed his space, his exciting book talks and all of that while I went shopping and tended to the Inn. She can't just stay with him forever; the poor boy needs some space."

"Funny that you're calling him 'poor boy' a year after you wanted to cut off his 'little boy' for maiming your flesh and blood."

"Hey, he's improved. He helps out around the house, doing the lawn and fixing the roof tiles with Luke. And unlike Rory he has the sense of mind to know I don't need details of their sex life."

"She shares?"

Lorelai's hands went high and wide. "Overshares! She has pro and con lists involving various certain...enhancing oils and prophylactics that she wants me to go over personally. Do I look like I want to know the difference between Trojan and Trojan-Enz? God, I can't imagine what embarrassing things poor Jess has to do with his employee discount."

Paris blanched, feeling a bit of pain for the boy she called 'Reb'. "I kind of see him being protective of her and pushing back some of the things she wants him to do with her. He lived in Brooklyn and probably had his virginity taken for $20 an hour. The boy has limits."

"OK, we're talking about Jess with a hooker. How is this normal conversation in any sense?" Shaking her head, Lorelai laughed at their absurdity. "Plus, I shouldn't be talking about their relationship with her classmate."

"Correction, ex-classmate."

"True, but I talk about this to Sookie and she's making plans for keeping Davey in military school from ten on. You just shrug it off like 'boys will be overly hormonal filled beings.'"

"The guy is good. He's also smart, unlike Dean."

"That's true. I'm less threatened by him than I was in the past." She felt calm at least in that regard. "He's rebellious but at least he knows now to rein it in."

The two women talked more as they found the time slipping away from them, both of them not wanting to let go themselves. But soon the clock was chiming the half-hour of 6pm, and after the phone rang yet again (this time ignored for voice mail), the both of them made their way out to the front drive and the Jeep, Lorelai resting against the side of the tan vehicle as she kept Paris's hands within hers. A late afternoon gust of wind blew through their hair, both of them feeling out of place about saying goodbye.

"So...this is it." Lorelai was the first to speak. "We managed to spend near twenty-four hours together without the intervention of a meat cleaver upon an artery."

Paris smiled, pleased that the entire situation had gone well. "I would have gone with inhalation of carbon monoxide within a vehicle myself. Keep a clean corpse in life as in death."

"But it would take on that odd grey tinge. And your burial procedures, not exactly receptive to the preservation or the makeup. At least you could go closed-coffin with a stabbing death."

"Overdose of Tylenol? Your insides are ruined but at least it's quick."

"Are you sure you're not a hidden Goth? It would be perfect, since this place is dark and foreboding."

"I studied death, but I wish to not experience it for years." Looking down at her scuffed New Balance sneakers, Paris for the first time wasn't looking forward to the end of time with her beloved. She reached into her pocket to take something out to give to Lorelai. "By the way, I want you to have this." She folded the papers in and handed them to Lorelai, who took it into her palm in shock as she looked over what Paris gave her.

"Paris, I can't accept this," she asserted. "I don't--"

"You told me Emily wanted you to get a phone over there, right?"

"True. But--"

"The phones she suggested? They're cheap, and they suck. Trust me from experience; you'll be thankful for a $350 phone with $150 in minutes over spending $50 on a glorified walkie-talkie."

"If you're sure." Lorelai felt uncomfortable accepting so much money from her lover. "You give this to me though and I feel like I'm using you."

"I have more where that came from."

"But Par--" She cut the woman off before her newest unfocused ramble with a simple kiss. Pulling back, she smiled when Lorelai couldn't respond past ten seconds.

"I win. Enjoy your new phone. Preferably with a camera and picture messaging, please."

"Damn it. I got played by you once again." Shaking her head she slid the five bills into her purse. "You know using electronic communications devices inappropriately gets me hot and you totally played into that."

"I did." She felt a certain sense of superiority over her lover, and in turn, Mrs. Gilmore. "Won't it feel nice to know you outplayed your mother though?"

"You don't know how much pleasure I'll get out of it." The woman smiled, feeling calm and open, ready to face the world anew after her day of seclusion at the Manor. "You look a little down, by the way."

"I am," Paris admitted, her slumped posture and mopiness since they came back from the garden very apparent. "I'm going to feel lost all summer without you."

"I'll always be there. On that phone. I'll email the number as soon as I get it. And of course you can look forward to weekly letters as I go through Europe."

"It's not that, though." Slumping against the door of the Jeep, she felt confessional. "Why is it I can find a girlfriend in you, but my best friend can't be bothered to see me?"

Lorelai didn't know what she could do to soothe Paris's pain. The fact that her own daughter couldn't be bothered to see a good friend bothered her deeply and she knew it would remain the hanging chad in their relationship. All she could do was hug Paris close for the last time and try to explain things in her view.

"I honestly don't know. I wish I could. I know it's not Jess, and I know she doesn't hate you. I think she's just...I don't know. Hopefully I can fix that this summer, this her becoming distant. I feel like I'm losing her myself and..."

Lorelai left the statement hanging purposefully, afraid to fully voice out her deepest fears. If there was one thing she learned over the years, it only took one person to take someone away from a goal. Paris had been lucky to stay strong through it all and found her way to Lorelai, but the innkeeper had that sense that her daughter was easily led on.

But those were thoughts for another day. Paris's fingers slid across Lorelai's face, her eyes showing she didn't want to leave the conversation ended on such a dark note.

"I'm going to miss you," Lorelai admitted, her voice cracking while she failed to keep the tears from flowing. "It's going to be hard...remaining your dirty little secret." She frowned a bit, choking back emotions when Paris pulled her close.

The blonde put it all in perspective for her. "We can survive two months away from each other. This isn't goodbye, it's..." She pressed one last kiss against her lover's wanting lips.

"...just so long for now." Paris closed her eyes, reveling in the final buss, but not wanting to pull away. The two women remained against the vehicle for a couple more minutes, wanting that last moment together before they would have to come back to the outside world.

When Christopher left her all those years ago, Lorelai mourned his leaving, but in reality she was content with her decision to leave society for the Hollow. Even with Max, she was glad that both of them had no regrets during those awkward meetings through the entirety of the last year at Chilton.

But as she began the slow process of sliding her fingertips away from the worn smooth palms of Paris Gellar, she also felt like a piece of her heart would remain with the college freshman. Blue eyes upon brown, she saw just a slight flash of the future. Of the possibilities of what they could be in the future and how they could even manage to live with each other.

For now, it was just a flash. It may not come true, she thought to herself, remaining ever cautious of herself. Pulling her hand away to fish the keys out of her purse, she felt hot and flushed, embarrassed to be so lovesick over a girl who she would have never thought a romantic.

"Umm, do you want any souvenirs? Like, a trinket or anything?" Stupid! She scolded herself over the question the moment she asked it. "It has to be small and--"

"I have too many souvenirs," Paris admitted, her eyes wide. "Having parents who globetrot the world has pretty much given me a snowglobe collection I loathe."

She paused, reflective on what she did want. "What I want for you to do is have fun, don't let Rory's lists get to you, and most importantly, just come back rested and refreshed. Just forget everything stressful in your life."

"What do you want though?"

"What I want is to just hear you talk about Europe and how you saw it when we see each other again. I don't need you to give me anything but your words and visions." She drew away from the woman slowly. "I think visually, Lor. I don't need a teaspoon set to show me you were in Amsterdam when your description of the canals and taking Rory against her will to the red light district to watch her feel very uncomfortable will certainly suffice."

"And I thought you were done bugging her when you got your diploma," Lorelai said, laughing. "I would have never thought that up, but now I must describe to her why Amsterdam is hardly just the city of diamonds and tulips or the New Orleans of the Zunder Zee."

"Can't wait for that letter."

"Oh, I think you'll enjoy it. I might even indulge in some legal wacky tobaccy when I'm there." Paris couldn't help but smile at how Lorelai's eyes lit up describing the mischief she wanted to get into, along with the hidden intelligence that she never boasted about. "It's going to be fun, I think."

"I'm sure it will." Scuffing her deck shoe along the ground, Paris had finally come to the moment she dreaded most and had been able to push as far as she possibly could.

"Paris, I'm going to be OK. I promise." She knew that the girl was about to collapse herself back within the moment her tires left the Manor grounds, going back to the girl she was expected to be, rather than a strong woman. "Every day, I'm going to wake up and wish you were sleeping next to me."

"But what if things change? What if I'm in Idaho and I find someone else? Or someone sweeps you off your feet in Hamburg? I went into this that afternoon content that we would only be together one time. Now it's been almost a month and I love you. And I'm going to spend every day checking that post office box and hope that I don't find a Dear Jane equivalent letter waiting within it." Her heart was overwhelmed by the what-ifs. "I keep hearing all this talk you're committed to me and not saying a word, but there might be something that changes us. It might not work out and--"

Lorelai was urgent with how she dealt with the situation.

"Hey!" She interrupted Paris, a maneuver which would have usually resulted in her impending death with anybody else. Calming her down with hands on her shoulders, Lorelai stared into her eyes and reassured her. "If I break up what we have, and that 'if' is currently as distant as the sun from here, you will not learn from a cold letter, nor a sudden phone call. I have no intention of ending anything and I do want you to know that I intend to give this the biggest shot I have. I would have never admitted I loved you if there was even the smallest chance that I felt we couldn't do this. There is this amazing chemistry between the two of us that is just overwhelming, more so than it was with Mr. Medina. So don't you dare think about us ending anytime soon, Par. I love you and I promise you that your heart is safe with me."

"I'm just scared," she admitted, pulling the woman close one last time. "You know how I am."

"I know. We'll get through this, I promise." Both of them hugged, yearning to have that last touch as long as possible. Soon though they pulled away, Lorelai opening the door as Paris stepped away from the Jeep, her hands shaking.

"Safe travels," she said as Lorelai started the vehicle.

"The same to you," Lorelai said through the unrolled window, taking one last look at Paris, lingering as the woman stood at the curb of the front walkway. Finally, she put the vehicle into drive and pressed the pedal lightly, driving away from the Manor at a slow pace, all the while hiding her emotions as the backwards image of her lover standing in wait within her mirror became smaller and smaller. Making the turn that brought her away from the main circle of the Manor drive, green foliage replaced the visage of her girlfriend and she felt an immediate flutter of lost deep within her soul.

She hated having to hide the joy and emotions she expressed in that almost full day with the young woman. Taking a deep breath, she tried to hold back further emotions as she passed the guards at the gate, who just smiled and bid her off, completely clueless to the activities within and outside the mansion.

Lorelai did not arrive back into Stars Hollow until nine o'clock, taking a meandering road along the Connecticut River drinking in the imagery she hadn't been able to bask in until that moment. After a stop at a Route 9 diner and then stopping at an overlook near Cromwell, the passionate woman took in her last moments of peace before having to experience Planes, Trains & Automobiles for the next two months, all by her lonesome.

Straddling the railing, she reached into her purse to find her phone, to send one last text...

Her hand came upon something else entirely. Reaching into the bag, she felt a velvet box within the small confines of the purse.

"That's strange," she told herself. "I don't remember bringing this..." Taking it out, the dark grey velvet box caught her attention.

At first she thought she might have kept something inside it. A small part of her mind suggested that Paris had seduced her and placed stolen jewelry within her purse in order to start a revenge plot against Rory for taking the valedictorianship.

Upon opening the clamshell container though, Lorelai found her eyes caught on something beautiful. Along with a folded note.

This time, the upper fold read to my tease. Smiling, she unfolded the note, to read it in the humidity of the evening as the sun began to fade in the west.


If I would have actually given you this, I'd still have it. I know how you are, refusing gifts despite insistence that you deserve them.

I know you're trying to come up with a reason to bring this back. It won't work, so don't you even try.

I'm not much for grand gestures. I know my sense of romance is sort of warped. But when I gave you that carnation this afternoon, it was a sincere gesture from my heart to show how much that I do love you. I don't know how I can repay you for helping me find my footing once again after all of this turmoil of the last month. What we share, I don't know that I'm going to find it again.

So I will fight for you. I promise that I will be loyal, that despite how I appear, your heart is safe and protected with me. I will not let you run. You have nothing to fear from me. Around only you I am fully open and though you will not be with me this summer, at least if you have this you will always be reminded of the moment when our silly little thing became a dirty little secret. I want you to wear it and when you look down, always be reminded that I will be there for you when you're back in Connecticut.

Keep yourself safe. Know that I love you always and that even from afar, I will be thinking of you always.

Your bitch,


P.S. - We really need to think of a feminist-friendly nickname on my side of the coin.

Lorelai was taken aback by the letter, her hands again tracing the delicate handwriting upon the parchment stationery. Her eyes took in the curves of the cursive, feeling a connection with the girl through her words that she knew wouldn't waver.

Looking over the gift, she found within the box a simple silver anklet without embellishment, beyond one solitary ruby exactly mid-way between the clasps surrounded by two small diamonds. Lorelai examined the jewelry closely, noting the care that went into the article, along with the name of the jeweler that suggested this was not a last-minute gift, but the aged silk lining the box and the crackled logotype suggested she had been given an heirloom, likely not from Paris's mother's side at all as the jeweler was based in Hartford rather than Sharon's hometown of Newark, Delaware.

It even seemed to her that the article had never been worn, the mark of the anklet within the box having a deep depression which suggested it had never been taken out of the box.

"Paris's father must have wanted to give this to her," she thought. "But she thought it was..." She took a breath, deciding that dwelling on its history meant nothing. It was now her gift, one Paris had given her from the heart.

She bent down to her left foot and rolled her sock down. She then wound the anklet around the exact spot where only two weeks before almost to the hour the intense blonde had proven that there was more to her than what the eye could see. Clasping it softly, she slipped the sock off to admire the bracelet draped across the flesh.

It was neither too tight nor too loose, fitting perfectly. Sitting on a bench nearby she admired the anklet and how it caught the glint of a dim streetlight. Her throat tightened as she took in the simple jewelry, the perfect way to hide her love for a woman that she knew very few would approve of as her partner.

Yet, she didn't feel wrong. To her, it felt completely right, and she had no doubts. Taking a deep breath in, she felt as if she could survive the summer, somehow.

A tear fell from her eyes as she realized that only in the space of one month, she had fallen fast for Paris in the space of only parts of five days. It took three months of persuasion by Christopher to give him a chance, while it took so many meetings with Max for her to even agree to the sort-of non-date the night of the snowstorm.

"I haven't even had a date with her," she told herself. "But I know that it's true."

In an hour she knew she would have to explain why she felt the need to explore Hartford after her 'hotel stay', and Rory would be unhappy about throwing off their packing plans for her own needs. As she sat on that small bench and basked in the memories of the last 36 hours, Lorelai knew that she would never regret having such a roller-coaster night with a woman who was turning into a romantic before her very eyes.

She didn't know what the future held, or if their chemistry would remain the next time they saw each other. But as she started the Wrangler to head back into town, she knew that her future in an empty nest looked a little less empty.

Paris's Bedroom, 11:15pm

She usually enjoyed the quiet. Being raised in a large house where her only interruption was usually the maid gathering her laundry, Paris was a private girl, bound to enjoy her peace, especially when her parents where nowhere within the state of Connecticut.

But she knew as she prepared to go to bed that it felt a bit empty without her lover to see her off. For once she was glad that the bed remained unmade and that the boxers and shirt Lorelai wore before they made love were still buried within the blankets. Putting them on, she felt connected to Lorelai, despite the distance they would share.

In the few hours she had with the woman before she had to leave for Europe, Paris had pushed aside all of her cynicism about romance and love. Putting her heart on the line, she found that Lorelai accepted it fully, and was glad to hear later that she loved the gift of the anklet which had been given to her by her Nanna, a gift her mother had rejected as being too simple.

But for Lorelai, it was perfect. Everything was perfect to Paris. Jamie was completely in the distance, the last of his gifts to be mailed back to him on Monday with a tersely worded letter that would undoubtedly ruin any ideas the boy had of reconciling a romance with her. She was still the hidden love of Lorelai Gilmore, but the woman also returned her feelings and treated her equally.

Her body was sore, bruised with love bites, her body still incredibly sensitive to any wayward touch. After enjoying a delivered supper of the forbidden delights of fried chicken and mac and cheese, she found herself moaning in enjoyment from how much the meal filled her and how Lorelai would have undoubtedly enjoyed it with her.

She also still felt the effects of Lorelai's little escapade as they went back to the garden house from the greenhouse. I'm probably going to find dirt in my belly button for weeks, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes and remembered how she let her guard completely down.

Sliding into bed, she put her head on the pillow which Lorelai had used, taking in the woman's scent imprinted upon it. She would sleep soundly this evening...

But then the SMS sound on her phone went off. Quickly grabbing it, she found that even if they couldn't be in each other's presence, the phone would be their lifeline until the moment Lorelai left Boston. She read the text message.

You're Supergirl. You have the hair, the eyes and the body...boy do you ever have the body.

Paris laughed to herself, and responded quickly.

I'm pleased to have a superhero moniker that defines me perfectly. However this puts pressure on me to keep the frosh 15 off, esp. for Halloween ;).

Hitting send, she was satisfied with her missive, tossing her hair back and glad for once to only be fretting about sexual peculiarities rather than the newest exam.

It took a couple minutes for her lover to respond back. But soon...

Fuck. You know you're killing me here. You'd go as her, full costume?

She tapped on the small keyboard as fast as she could, smirking evilly.

If you're a good girl you just might get to tie me up with your lasso of truth, Wonder Woman.

From there, the conversation didn't exactly cool down much. Paris especially would enjoy when Lorelai suggest they take their conversation to the phone within a few minutes, as they decided that Lorelai's phone minutes deserved to be burning their desires rather than that of their mothers...

To Be Continued

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