Hello people and fellow Gilmore Girls' lovers!

So this is a fic I've been working on for a very long while and am finally ready to share with all of you, now that summer if officially here. I don't know how long this will be, but I do plan to flesh out the characters as much as possible and give you guys an interesting and lovely story about how I think Richard and Emily first met.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls. This is simply an extension story of the lovely Richard and Emily and how they met in college.

Chapter One:

September 3, 1963

Dear Hopey,

Well, I've finally settled in at the house. It's been such a hectic day what with the new girls trying to find their houses and all the general excitement of a new year. Francie and I have been trying to figure out how to coordinate our things and who gets what side of our room, but I won that battle. I now have the right side of the room with the window. I know what you're thinking: Emily Elizabeth Hale, the first day of moving in should not be the day you argue with your roommate about who gets the better half of the room, but Francie will soon see that she'll value the left side much more than the right. I'm currently waiting for her to get back from the library with some pre-reading for an English class she will be taking in the fall, which I find horrid because classes don't start until next week, but such is the life of an English major. Thank goodness I've decided to continue on with my studies in History. It's still a good amount of reading, but not as much as Francie's course work. When she gets back we are going to 'Celia's' for dinner and then hopefully meeting the girls from Albright House for some late night coffee at the coffeehouse on campus.

Send our mother and father my love and give George my love as well. He seems like a lovely boy Hopey, but please be careful. I know he's a Princeton man and that he takes you for lovely strolls in that new Aston of his, but he is starting a new year of school with new people and I fear that this year will be a time of change for not only him but you as well. Don't be afraid for your upcoming senior year, but also make sure to focus heavily on your studies and, who knows, maybe you will be joining me at Smith next year.

Your affectionate sister, Emily.

I re-read my letter to my younger sister, Hope, and satisfied with the neatness and my grammatical correctness, I folded it up nicely and sealed it in a white envelope addressed to my home in Connecticut. Even though I've found myself excited for a new year at Smith College, I still feel a longing for home. Home consists of my parents, Anne and Edward Hale, and my sister, Hope Hale, who I've left back in my two-story home with a newly remodeled backyard. My parents have been fortunate enough to send me to a good school like Smith, but the downside will always be that I am a state away from my family. Not being able to see Hopey is excruciating at times, but you learn to deal with what you have. And, for now, what I have is sufficient enough. My home away from home is Talbot House and I am incredibly lucky to have my closest friend, Francie, as my roommate this year.

Francie and I met my freshman year at Smith and we have been inseparable ever since. We may bicker about our rooming arrangements, but we truly are the best of friends. As I mentioned in my letter to Hope, Francie has taken an abominable course load this semester and I fear that I won't be seeing much of her throughout the year. Lord only knows how she is able to keep up a long distance relationship with her Yale beau, Henry. Maybe it helps that the Yale campus is an hour away and thanks to Francie's father's work in the car industry, she usually finds her way up there once every few weeks in the newest and fashionable car her father can afford. Which, of course, is always a perk for me. Yale men are unusually superior to all others (well, most of them that is) and the campus is as lovely as ever no matter the season.

I get up from my desk and walk over to the window that also doubles as a door onto our tiny balcony overlooking the campus. Although my parents were very stubborn of my coming to Smith my freshman year, they finally relented when they realized I would not give up on the topic of my education. Coming to Smith was something of a new found independence for me and it was important that I fulfilled this dream when so many other women my age couldn't.

Looking out at the campus always fills me with a sense of calm and frenzy all at the same time. The leaves are starting to turn orange and red as the signs of autumn creep its way onto the landscape and, for the longest time, this passage from summer into fall reminded me of a fresh new start back home. At Smith it reminds me of the same thing, but it also comes with a tinge of panic because of the tough course load from professors. But I don't want to seem like I am complaining. I truly love it here, even if I am homesick for the first few weeks.

"Professor Browning is absolutely ridiculous. Who assigns all of Shakespeare's tragedies before classes even start! If I wasn't in my right mind I'd put something in his morning tea for his absurdities."

Francie has just walked in with a massive anthology of what I'm assuming is Shakespeare's Tragedies, and I wouldn't say I envy her in any way. From what I hear around campus, Professor Browning is probably the toughest professor when it comes to course work, grading, and general persona. The man could give Hitler a run for his money.

Francie sets down the daunting black hard cover anthology and exhales sharply, causing her red bangs to fly up. Even they look exhausted from prep work.

"You know Francie, you didn't have to take his class."

Francie's freckled nose crinkles in frustration as she tosses her black clutch on her bed. "Yes Em, I understand that perfectly, but if an English major wants to pursue a graduate education outside of Smith, preferably Harvard, said English major needs a stellar recommendation from Professor Browning. My future is literally and figuratively in his hands and it doesn't help that he already loathes me!" Francie puts her pale hands on her hips and shakes her head in frustration.

"Fran, he doesn't even know you. How in the world can he already hate you?"

Francie's green eyes glare at me as she grabs the anthology, and starts swinging it around in the air. "Have you seen this monstrous atrocity of a book?"

I smile sympathetically and walk over to my best friend who looks like she is on the verge of a mighty conniption fit. "Fran, he's a human being, not God."

"I beg to differ."

"I'm serious Fran."

"So am I."

I laugh and watch as she pulls her bright red hair out of the clutches of her high ponytail. She walks over to her wardrobe and takes out a black coat that soon covers her lovely blue floral dress.

"It started getting a tad bit chilly about a half hour ago, so you might want to grab something warm if we're still going to 'Celia's' for dinner."

I nod my head and grab my favorite brown coat and my black gloves that have been hanging over the frame of my bed since this morning when I got in. I top off my outfit with a black pillbox hat.

"Oh Emily how precious is that hat? Where did you get it?" Francie asks as we walk down the stairs.

"Hopey bought it for me over the summer. She insisted that I couldn't come to Massachusetts in last season's fashion so we made a day of it picking out a new wardrobe for this year."

"Well I absolutely approve of Hopey's fashion sense. How is she anyway?"

I walk out onto Talbot's porch and immediately feel the chill Francie was speaking of earlier. My, fall was making its appearance a little earlier than planned. We walk down the steps and head in the direction of 'Celia's', a little, yet quaint diner right outside the entrance of campus.

"Hopey is Hopey. She has a new beau named George and he's…well let's just say I'm not too fond of the Princeton boy, but I can't tell Hopey that because she's absolutely mad about him." I exhale and watch as my breath turns into a white puff signaling that it is going to be a cold September.

"Princeton really? Who would've thought. Is he nice at least?"

I cross my arms over my stomach to conserve my body heat on our short walk to the diner. "He's a lovely boy, George is, but I'm just not sure he's the right fit for Hopey. You know her, and I'm afraid that a boy may detract from her focusing on more important things."

Francie smiles this knowing grin of hers that I have come to hate throughout my years of knowing her. "I think you're being a tad bit overprotective Emily. Hopey is seventeen. She can afford to be a little distracted by a boy."

I roll my eyes, but thankfully Francie doesn't see. "Can she afford it though? I mean she's doing so much already with the DAR and helping mother with all her charity fundraisers, and then there's school to worry about and I just…I don't know. Lord knows I didn't have a beau when I was her age."

Francie laughs at me and all I can do is stare at her with an irritated expression.

"Emily you act as if you're twenty years older than her. You two are only four years apart."

"Excuse me, five years in December!"

"Oh my mistake then. Five years," Francie corrects herself, but I can still hear the laughter in her voice.

"Don't mock me Francine Remington, or I won't share my new outfits with you this year."

Francie wrinkles her nose at me as if to say I'm being mean. "Fine I humbly apologize for defending Hopey's preference in boys."

I smile a satisfied grin and turn the final corner that will lead us to 'Celia's'.

"Oh thank goodness, I am starved. All that daunting Shakespeare has my stomach grumbling in hungry agony."

We step into the diner and are welcomed by a warm gust of air from inside. 'Celia's' has always been a safe haven for the many girls of Smith College. It's cozy, comfortable, and most of all it has the best food in all of Northern Massachusetts. We begin our walk to our regular booth near the front window and sit down on the amazingly relaxing seats.

"What are you getting?" Francie asks as she pursues the menu.

My menu goes untouched as I already know what I want.

I've been craving it all summer.

"I'm getting the Mud Burger and the Hot Chocolate Lava."

Francie looks up from her menu with a look of surprise and concern. "Emily, how do you eat the way you do and keep that petite figure of yours? I envy whatever natural talent you have in staying tiny."

I laugh as I look out the window. The sun is beginning to set on the horizon and it makes me feel a bit of nostalgia. "To be fair, if my mother found out that I ate like this on campus, she'd have me on a mandatory exercise regimen and dietary foods before you could say 'fatty calories'."

It's true that my mother is a controlling woman that feels the need to constantly tell me I need to improve on almost everything about myself, but this, as it turns out, is one of the many reasons I love being at Smith. Her strict social protocol makes my time here more than precious.

"I still can't believe you can eat like that though. Every year! You cease to amaze me Emily Hale."

"It's a gift."

"What's a gift?" Someone asks as they approach our table.

I look up and see a young man with extremely black and gelled back hair. He's smiling in Francie's direction, but she doesn't seem to notice him considering her head is concealed by the menu. His smile is very wide and white and I smile as well when I realize who it is.

"Arthur!" I say quite loudly, and it makes everyone in the diner look in my direction, including Francie who looks up from the menu. She smiles brightly at the handsome young man wearing a plaid red button down shirt and faded blue jeans.

"Emily, Francie you two look as radiant as ever. How were your summers?"

Francie sets down her menu and interlaces her slim pale fingers on top of the table. "Mine was absolutely perfect. I spent most of my time in California with Daddy. He's opening up a new shop over there and by God the people there are so beautiful Arthur, you would love it."

Arthur gives his signature "Francie Smile" which is solely reserved for his crush of three years. Everyone seems to know of Arthur's pining love for my best friend, except, of course, for my best friend.

"And you Emily? Your summer was well too I'm assuming?" Arthur asks me in an attempt to stop ogling Francie's pretty face.

I squirm in my seat and I try my hardest to keep a straight face. "Uh—mine was lovely Arthur thank you."

"So what are you girls having then? Would you like to hear the specials?" Arthur says as he pulls a small notepad from his back pocket.

Francie sits up straight and picks up her menu. "Actually Arthur, I see you got new menus! They look fantastic and I love the design on the front. " Only Francie would notice that 'Celia's' got new menus over the summer.

Arthur looks down at the floor and seems to be blushing. "Thanks uh—my dad actually let me design it and he apparently really liked them."

Francie smiles at the embarrassed boy and claps her hands. "That's great Art! You're such a talent."

Arthur's father owns 'Celia's' which was named after Arthur's mom who passed away right before the opening of the diner. He named it in honor of her.

"Well thank you darlin'. Now what can I get for you ladies? I know this one," Arthur points in my direction, "is extremely hungry."

I cross my arms and glare at him. "What are you a soothsayer?"

"Emily, I've been serving you for the last three years. I know a Hale appetite is not something to be reckoned with."

Francie laughs her irritatingly perfect laugh, while I roll my eyes at Arthur's embellishment.

"Har, har, har."

"It is true Em," Francie mumbles behind her hands as she tries to muffle her laughter.

"You two are terrible."

~O~O~O~

"Can you believe how talented Arthur is with those drawings? It's a shame his father won't let him go to art school. I mean last year he drew this lovely picture of his mom and I nearly cried because he captured her beauty so well. Do you remember the one?" For being a girl who was going steady with a Yalie, Francie seemed to be otherwise preoccupied with another boy.

"Yes Francie I remember. Goodness is it cold out here." I tighten my coat as we walk the path towards all the houses on Upper Elm, and pray to God the girls were prudent enough to heat the furnace in our house.

"I mean, you would think Howard would see that his son is incredibly gifted," Francie continues with a hint of frustration towards Arthur's dad.

"You know Arthur doesn't hold that kind of grudge. He's said it before that he's all his father has and he's okay with it."

Francie sighs and is silent for the rest of our walk home. I hear our small heels click on the path and I count the minutes until I can take them off. "Fran do you mind if we skip coffee with Albright? I know we told Catherine we'd meet her there, but we can call her when we get home and tell her we're too tired to go out."

Francie nods her head and unconsciously shakes her bangs out of her eyes. "Sure, to be honest I'm tired too and I don't think I could be civil enough with others when I'm this exhausted."

"Are you still worried about Browning's class? Please stop worrying, I know you'll do great. You're the smartest person I know."

Francie smiles at me, but I can still tell that she's wearing herself thin about this semester. "You know who would be a big help?"

Francie's green eyes look at me as if I am her only lifeline.

"Arthur."

Confusion washes over my best friends face as we walk up the steps to Talbot House. "Yeah. Remember last year when he went through that Shakespeare phase where all he would read were his poems and plays? He'd just lean on the counter on his breaks and read. I thought he was going to burn the books with the way he analyzed every line."

"Oh I do remember that! He would quote Romeo & Juliet constantly!"

We've made it to our room and my heels have finally found a way off my feet. I think about what Francie said and recall that Arthur only seemed to reserve Romeo & Juliet for Francie and I somehow ended up with all the Hamlet quotes.

"I'll ask him the next time we're at the diner," Francie says while she brushes her long red hair.

I follow her lead and grab my brush as well and sit at my vanity mirror. I look at my black shoulder length hair and wonder if I should grow it out, but then I realize I didn't have that kind of patience. My eyes roam my pale face and how oddly my skin contrasts with my dark brown eyes. My tiny nose makes my other facial features seem too big, but then again I really am fond of the way it turns up, almost like it's too high and mighty for simpletons.

"I wonder how Henry is settling in," I hear Francie say in a small voice.

"I'm sure he's doing fine Fran," I reply absentmindedly.

"Do you think he misses me?"

I smile into my mirror and hope it seems genuine. "I'm sure he misses you greatly."

"It's just—I hardly saw him over the summer what with me being in California and him being at that internship in New York. I just hope he's thinking of me, you know?"

I smile gently at my roommate who has turned to face me on her little bench. I stare at her through the mirror as I brush my hair softly and smile back. "He's a sweet boy Fran. And he's smart enough to know that what he has with you is special."

Francie looks down at the brush that is now resting on her lap. "Thanks Emily."

"You're welcome."

Francie gets up from her seat and walks out of our room most likely to use the bathroom.

I finish up at the vanity and am about to call Catherine on the phone, when someone knocks on my door.

"Come in."

Dawn Noble, a sophomore, peeks her head in and gives me a small grin. "Hey Emily. I forgot to tell you earlier when you got in, but Catherine called from Albright and said she needed to cancel on coffee. I hope you weren't getting ready to leave or anything."

I shake my head at the young girl as I get out of my seat. "Oh thank you for telling me. I was about to call Cat and cancel."

"Perfect! Well I guess I'll see you and Fran tomorrow then!"

"Good night Dawn."

Dawn closes my door silently and I walk over to the window so I can look out at the night sky. As I look at the lights of other houses beginning to turn down for the night, I remember my talk with Francie not even ten minutes past. I sigh as I watch the dimming lights, and I hope and pray that me lying to my best friend isn't something that will be held against me on Judgment Day.

~O~O~O~

August 2, 1963

Although summer is meant to be warm and relaxing, this stale night is on the verge of choking out perfectly breathable air to my lungs. I knew I shouldn't have come to Henry DuGrey's party, but Mom was insistent that I do something fun with my summer, so I guess this was me, trying to have fun. But as I watch all the boys I've grown up with get blitzed out of their minds and all the girls I never really seemed to mesh well with in school flirt their way into a boy's arms, I kind of wish I was back home in my room finishing up Anna Karenina for my summer reading list. I can't seem to find a spot to sit for a while, so I make my way inside the house where someone has decided to play Chuck Berry on the record player. Some kids have found Henry's father's cigar stash, so the air is filled with cigar smoke and I find myself missing the outside. Finally, I find the stairs up to the rooms and hopefully I won't encounter anyone for the next few minutes. The hall is extremely long but I try all the doors to see if one will open. Thankfully, the fifth door I try is unlocked and I decide that this will be my hideout until the appropriate time to leave comes. The room is very small, but I can see that it is a little girl's room. A doll house sits on a dresser and the small bed is covered by pink pillows and a pink duvet. I didn't know Henry had a little sister.

As I walk around the room and look at all the pictures on the wall, I am suddenly aware of footsteps outside. Oh please don't let it be two people looking for a private room. Please, please, please.

The door knob begins to turn and I hold my breath in anticipation.

Luckily, the person on the other side of the door is just Henry DuGrey.

A very sloshed Henry DuGrey I might add.

He smiles crookedly at me and stumbles into the room. He's abandoned his suit jacket altogether and his tie clack tie is slack around his neck. I notice the almost empty glass of what I am assuming is Mr. DuGrey's whiskey in his hands.

I respond to Henry's inebriated state by crossing my arms over my quaint black dress and cocking an eyebrow. "Attractive Henry. Thank goodness Francie isn't here to see you like this."

Henry's laugh is attractive even when drunk. I can see why Francie is so smitten with this blond golden boy.

"M&M what are you doing up here all by yourself? Didn't you notice the party downstairs?"

I always hated that nickname, but Henry's hoodlum friends coined it back in our freshman year of high school and unfortunately it stuck.

"I noticed it just fine Henry. Have you noticed how many drinks you've had?" Although Henry and I weren't the best of friends, he was still my closest friend's boyfriend, so by some degree I was obligated to feel some kind concern for the boy.

"Found Dad's key to cabinet. Lots…off…liquor. Stroooong. Don't know why Yale gave him that degree of his. Not too bright my pa." Henry thinks his statement is rather clever, so he begins to laugh. This time, his guffaws are rather irritating.

"Henry, you might want to slow down—"

"Slow down she says! I don—Oye!" Henry stumbles forward on his drunken legs which ultimately makes him lose his footing. He ends up smashing his face on the dresser holding the beautiful dollhouse, and I immediately decide to help the boy regain some control.

Although at this point he's pretty much ready to pass out. I sigh in frustration as I grab his arms and try to pull him up.

"Don't be ridiculous Henry. This circumstance is not funny, it's pathetic if you ask me."

Henry finally finds his sea legs and uses my shoulders for support. Oh goodness you stink. If you puke on my dress you are paying for the cleaning.

"I—I'm no-no-noot ridiculous. Your face is ri-hehehe-diculous."

"Clever."

"I'm wery clever M&M."

"You're very sloshed. Let's get you outside. Preferably on the lawn where your puke won't stain something expensive."

Henry begins to laugh very close to my ear and I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. He stops swaying, but his hands begin to move in a very inappropriate direction: down my back towards a place I'd rather not have anyone roam.

"Henry stop," I say very seriously.

"Stop what M&M?" He has this disgustingly stupid grin on his face so I push him away roughly, but he finds a way to get a hold of my waist with his grimy hands.

"Henry I said stop."

"You wanna know what I think Em Em? I think you like me."

"Ugh Henry don't flatter yourself, you're really not that attractive."

"Ann I think that Fran is miles away, which me-means…" Henry pulls me into him tightly and as soon as I realize that things are going downhill very fast, I find a way to slap him extremely hard across the face.

My palm prickles with pain and I can hear Henry stumbling to the floor screaming a slew of expletives at me. I locate my clutch on the small bed and make a run for the door.

As I run down the stairs I stumble into a boy wearing round glasses who is loitering on the lowest step with a pretty blonde girl. His glasses fall off and I accidently crush them with my heel. I'm too frantic to stay and apologize because I know that if I do, Henry will probably try and find me to finish what he started. As the girl yells at me in an inebriated state for breaking her boyfriends glasses, I catch a quick glimpse at the young man whose glasses I've stepped on. He notices the tears that have gathered in my eyes and tries to reach out to me, but I turn my back and run out the front door. Luckily, home is only a few blocks away and I'd much rather jog there than catch a ride with my drunken peers. I feel my tears falling down my cheeks as I run and can't seem to make them stop. All I know is that this is one of the most horrible things that could happen tonight and I know that if I don't tell Francie as soon as she gets home, that Henry will find a way to make it sound like I made a pass at him.

And that poor boy with the glasses! I broke his glasses and well…I mean they weren't the most fashionable accessory in the world, but what if he can't see without them and what if Francie never forgives me and…

Oh why the hell did I go to that damn party in the first place?

No good could come of this.

None whatsoever.

~O~O~O~

"Emily are you alight?"

I jump up when I hear Francie's voice behind me.

"Em you seem a little spooked, are you alright?"

My eyes are wide as I look at my best friend who is now in her white nightgown. "I—I'm fine Francie. Just thinking."

Francie's pretty green eyes stare at me in concern and I really hope she can't read the guilt written all over my face. "You sure you don't want to talk?"

I shake my head and grab my toiletries bag and my nightgown from one of my dresser drawers. "No, I just—you caught me off guard is all. Don't worry about me."

"O-kay…if you're sure…"

"Of course I'm sure," I say in a high pitched tone that doesn't sound at all like me.

I walk quickly to the bathroom on the other end of the hall and lock myself in, hoping that the memories of that night would go away as fast as they could. Henry never did tell Francie what happened when she got back from California, mostly because he didn't remember anything that happened. But being around them…it was becoming too hard and, for once in my life, I didn't know what I was going to do.

Alright people, hope you liked the first chapter! Like I said, I have been working on this story offline on the side for a long while, so I do have a strong idea of where I would like to take this story, so hopefully you will all bear with me as these characters find their way to each other. I'm personally very excited for what's in store for them!

-Priscilla