Title: The Way To Atlantis
Chapter: Ten
Chapter Title: Wishin' and Hopin'

Rating: R
Coupling: Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, and half Rory/Tristan.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, it belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, The WB, and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions. I also do not own Dusty Springfield's "Wishin' and Hopin'"

Author's Note: To my buddies at the FF fanfic thread for being patient with me.

*

Just wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'
Plannin' and dreamin' his kiss is the start

Lane knew something was wrong before she'd even opened the door to their apartment. Something seemed really amiss. The strong scent of chicken and spaghetti sauce she'd detected as she first stepped onto their hall was stronger near their door. It should have been coming from the apartment across the hall. Logical thought told her a window in the opposite apartment could be open, but that same logical thinking also lead her to think that 78 year old Mr. Rodgers wasn't the type to have a window wide open in the middle of a biting December. He was from Georgia for crying out loud. Her own Yankee blood was near the freezing point despite her heavy coat. So no, a window wasn't an option.

With this in mind she used the door to shield herself as she entered the apartment, against better logic expecting a chicken parmesan cooking burglar, not her wonderful husband Dave whom was standing in their dining room lighting a candle. He straightened and looked at her, "Good, good. You're home. Come in out of the cold, and why don't you change into something more comfortable, and shut the door you're letting out the heat."

At least one thing managed to penetrate Lane's foggy brain and she shut the door. "You're home?" she inquired. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to surprise you with dinner. It's ready when you are."

"Well I'm ready now." Lane peeled off her coat and lay it over the back of the couch. She walked over to where Dave had pulled out a chair for her and sat down. "It smells delicious," she called as he entered the kitchen.

He returned carrying two plates, "I hope it tastes as good as it smells."

They smiled at each other as Dave set the plates at their spots and poured them some champagne. He took his seat and they dug in.

"It is delicious," Lane told him after her first bite. They ate in relative silence, too busy enjoying each other's company and the good food to break the mood.

When they'd eaten their fill Dave took the dishes and stood up. "I'll wash these later." He turned on a romantic CD on their CD player and held his hand out to Lane. She accepted and they danced as they held each other close, Lane's head resting on his shoulder.

They both felt like they were falling in love all over again, so neither were surprised when Lane smiled coyly at him and tugged him towards the bedroom, tugging his shirt over his head as they went.

*

"Maybe they'll get married."

Paris looked over at the other woman, who's chestnut hair was bouncing as she bent and retrieved a diaper from the shelf beneath the changing table. "If they do, I hope it's more like you and Tristan than Jess and I."

Her companion turned, blue eyes confused, as she brushed a curl out of her face, "Why?"

"Please, we're the most dysfunctional family since the Osbournes. I guess having a child at such a young age can do that to you. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." Paris looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it is hard to raise a kid that young. Still, I wouldn't wish them to be like Tristan and I. We've got our own issues," Rory said. Except Paris wasn't listening anymore. She was holding Dallas on one hip, looking over the top of Lola's crib, thinking.

Without taking her eyes off of Lola, Paris spoke, "You conceived after marriage," she looked at Rory. "What were you using?"

Rory looked at her in disbelief and shook her head as she gathered Lola from her crib to change her diaper.

*

They were quiet. They'd been like this for sometime. Just sitting side by side in companionable silence in a park in the city. The blonde wondering why the brunette had called. So far no reason had been given, then again the only words uttered were pleasantries.

Tristan sighed, his lunch hour would be over soon. So if Jess wasn't going to say anything he'd better. He didn't turn his head, merely glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "So I assume you didn't call me here to just stare at the people passing by."

"You know what they say about assuming."

"Which has nothing to do with you and me, because we may not have been friend's long but you aren't the type to need a babysitter to people watch."

"You're right. I could do it just fine on my own."

"Exactly. So, since my lunch hour is rapidly coming to a close I suggest you bring up whatever topic of discussion that you've found so complex as to call me yet so scary as to not tell me. It's not like you're a stockbroker who took all my money for my only dream and invested it in bad stock."

"Well if anything that would be an ironic twist of fate."

"Twist indeed as you are just dancing around the subject. Out with it, Mariano."

"I don't know, I've just been thinking a lot lately. I mean, Dallie's nearly two. He'll be walking and talking soon. I missed most of that with Augusta, with Devon. Did you know that Devon's first word was 'tv' and Aggie's was 'light'? I'm not sure I'm prepared to miss that with Dallie."

"Then don't."

"But I just opened my own business. I need it to succeed, not only for my pride's sake, but for my children's."

"I see your problem. I guess you only have two options. Take it slow and not leave town often."

"Or?"

"Or try and get your business in order as quickly as possible that way you can spend more time with your family."

"What if I don't like either option."

"Then you my man, are out of luck."

To be continued....