Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

Rory Gilmore licked her lips with antici . . . pation as she unfolded the note. She leaned against her locker and examined it closely. It was scrawled in ink on cream-colored stationery that was clearly expensive. More expensive than Jess would have been able to afford, anyway, and it wasn't Dean's style.

"Dear Rory, I have returned from military school. I would like nothing better than the opportunity to make things right with you. Coffee, perhaps? I'll pick you up out front after school. Sincerely, Tristan."

She sighed contentedly.

"What's that, Gilmore?" Paris asked suspiciously, suddenly beside her.

"What?"

Paris stared at her.

"Oh, this? It's a note. From Lane. Some records I'm supposed to pick up for her."

"And it makes you that happy?"

Rory blushed. "Uh, she just has really good taste." She hastily re-folded the paper into a tiny square that fit in her fist.

Paris eyed her strangely and shrugged, then walked away.

Oh, great. Now Paris probably thought there was something going on between her and Lane. But she didn't care. She smiled like a girl with a secret and read the note again. And again.