"Hey Lane. You know, I think that since the last time I've seen you, your mom's really loosened up. She called me. Using a telephone's pretty modern of her, wouldn't you say?" the quirky voice said, a smile on his face.

Lane grinned. "Dave!" She threw her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back. "It's so good to see you."

Dave nodded. "I got that from the death grip, Lane." He peeled her hands off of his neck. "I won't look much better dead, you know."

"You look great!" Lane paused. "Did you say my mother called you?"

"Yeah… well, technically she called Brian because he answered, but she called looking for me."

"To come here? And take me to church?"

"Yeah." Dave paused. "At first I thought that she must've hit her head cleaning, but apparently she called because she thinks I don't have semen? What's that about?"

Lane blushed. "Tristan."

"From Tristram, from tristis, meaning sad. Yes. What are you talking about?"

"Rory's-"

"Is Rory pregnant?" Dave interrupted, wide eyed.

Lane shook her head, holding back a laugh. "No. Tristan's high school girlfriend, his ex, had a kid. But then she killed herself. It's a messy situation."

"Yeah. I got that. But what does this have to do with you?"

"My mom thought that I was getting too close to Tristan, I guess. I don't know." Lane shrugged. "Why'd you come?"

"Huh?"

"You didn't have to come."

"Uh, yeah. I did. If I valued your life. I'm scared of your mother, Lane. She might be small, but she could probably take a pro-wrestler." Lane giggled at this. Dave shook his head. "No, seriously? I came because I wanted to see you."

"You okay, T?"

Tristan turned to see Callie standing to his side, a concerned look covering her face. "I just watched my daughter get taken away from her grandmother. What do you think?" he said, his voice harsh.

Callie backed up, stung. He watched as she took a deep breath, unwilling to back off. "I know that must've sucked."

"Yeah, it did."

"Well… they can visit her, right?"

"Yes. But visiting isn't much compared to living with her."

Callie nodded, sitting down next to Tristan. "Yeah, I know. But it's something, T." She paused. "Can I come with you?"

Tristan froze. "What?"

"I know you're going to California when they move Grace in. I want to come with you." Callie sighed. "I don't think it's something you should do on your own."

"Callie… California… You and California don't mix very well."

Callie shook her head. "No, me and Los Angeles don't mix well. I'll be fine. Plus, you're going to need someone."

Tristan paused. "Callie, that's nice of you but…"

"I'll be fine, Tristan. I promise." She met his gaze defiantly. "And this isn't about me. It's about you."

"Okay. Okay, we'll leave in the morning."

"Oh my God! You have to come see Rory and Jess and-"

"Lane! Lane! Slow down! I can't understand every other word you say." Dave laughed. "I want to spend some time with you, first."

"Really?" Lane wasn't used to relationships like this, open, honest, permissible relationships.

Dave nodded. "Yeah. But first we've got to go to church." He laughed. "You have to pray for your soul. Pray that no semen infected man finds you, Lane."

Lane rolled her eyes. "My mother should put a prerequisite on my marriage application: Men with semen need not apply."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "That wouldn't leave many choices."

Lane shrugged. "Well, there could be a statement in the fine print. 'For more information on vasectomies, contact your doctor.'" She giggled. "I can't believe we're talking about this."

Dave nodded. "Lets get to church."

Lane rolled her eyes. "Rory's?"

Callie's forced bravado disappeared the second she was out of Tristan's sight. Of course she was nervous about going back to California, to a town not half an hour from Los Angeles, but she'd be damned if she let Tristan know that.

She reminded herself again that this was for her friend, and that she was a different person than she had been before. She wasn't a stripper, she wasn't a drug addict.

Callie threw together a suitcase quickly, not all that concerned about what she'd wear. Why had she volunteered to do this?

Because Tristan's my friend, she thought. She picked up her hairbrush, sitting in front of Rory's mirror. She brushed her hair for a while, then paused. Jess was right. She did brush her hair when she was tense. She put the brush down. If she could transform herself into a completely different person than she had been, she could get rid of an old habit. Her mechanisms were the only tie she had to her old life, to California.

"Oh my God! Dave Rygalski! It's so good to see you." Rory hugged her best friend's high school boyfriend excitedly. "What are you doing here?" The three stood on the Gilmore's porch.

Lane rolled her eyes. "Don't get him started on that. Lets just say it was the fallout of my mother finding out about Tristan's daughter."

"Oh… okay. So… your mom set this up." Rory met Lane's gaze with raised eyebrows. "I highly doubt that."

Lane laughed. "She really did."

Rory started to laugh as well, but suddenly stopped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"So… that would be like your mom giving her permission for you to date someone non-Korean."

"And without semen," Dave chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Whoa. Way too much information," Rory held up her hands. "Didn't need to know that."

Dave's face turned crimson. "No, not really. I meant… that's what Lane's mother… I-"

Lane grinned, patting Dave on the shoulder. "No need to hide it, Dave. Rory won't think any less of you."

Dave's eyes widened. "Lane!" Turning to Rory desperately, he added, "It's not true. I do have semen!"

Callie had chosen this moment to step out the front door. With a smirk, she said, "That's nice to know. Anymore bedroom facts you'd like to share?"

Dave's face turned a deeper shade of red. Rory rolled her eyes. "Dave, this is Callie. She goes to Yale with me. Callie, this is Dave."

Callie grinned. "Can I call you semen-man?"

Dave's head hit his hands, embarrassed.

"Callie. Callie. Callie, wake up." Tristan pushed Callie gently, trying to awaken her. "It's time to go."

Callie turned over slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?" she murmured. Glancing over at Rory's alarm clock, she frowned. "It's four in the morning," she answered her own question.

"Yeah. The plane leaves at six."

"It doesn't take two hours to get to Hartford."

"Traffic, Callie."

"Did you miss my four in the morning comment? What kind of traffic is there at four in the morning?" She sat up, now fully awake.

"Yeah, well, I also wasn't sure how long it would take you to wake up. Would you believe I've been trying to wake you up for the past hour and a half?"

"No. I'm a light sleeper."

"Damn. Now I look really stupid. Okay, I didn't think through with the traffic thing. But it's good to get to the airport early."

"Who are you trying to avoid?"

Tristan sighed. "Rory. I don't want her to worry…"

"Okay, fine. Lets just get out of here."

"Holy hell."

"Would that be an oxymoron? I've always wondered about that," Tristan said, staring out the window on the DuGrey family private jet.

Callie laughed. "I guess so. Although, technically, hell is a holy place, or at least a holy idea." She shook her head. "Don't get me off track. This is a really nice jet."

"I know." Tristan reached past her to a dish nearby. "Chocolate?" he asked, taking a few as he spoke.

"Sure." Tristan handed her one, and Callie glanced around. "T, this is amazing. Is this real?" she asked, pointing at a painting that hung over Tristan's head.

He turned in his seat to glance at it. "Yes. It's a Monet. One of the last unclaimed, I think. My father bought it at an auction six years ago."

"It's nice." Callie had grown up with money, but nothing like the splendors of the DuGrey fortune. Apparently they had more differences than she had believed.

When Rory realized that neither Callie and Tristan were home when she woke up, she didn't think much of it. They had probably just gone for a walk, she assumed.

It wasn't until noon that she began to worry. "Lane, have you seen Tristan or Callie?" she asked her friend, who had come over within the previous hour.

Lane shook her head. "Not since last night. They were talking about Tristan's sister… what's her name, Audrey?"

"Audra." Rory paused. "Well, if you see them, could you let me know?"

Lane nodded. "Yeah, sure… Dave and I are going out for lunch now, so…" Lane shrugged. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah." Rory watched as Lane left, more confused than before.

"Are we staying at Audra's?" Callie asked as they stepped off the jet, realizing she knew nothing of their plans.

Tristan shook his head as he pulled a suitcase from the jet. "No. My father owns a hotel nearby, so we'll take the vacant rooms."

"Why aren't we staying at your sister's?"

"Audra and I can't be in the same room as each other for more than ten minutes at a time. Staying in her house wouldn't exactly lessen the tension."

Callie nodded. "I get it." She took her suitcase from Tristan. "How are we getting to the hotel?"

"Walking."

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "Have you seen these shoes?" she asked, holding up her leg to let Tristan examine the three inch heels.

"Not a wise choice," he started. Continuing caustically, he added, "Comfort really doesn't have anything to do with fashion for you, does it?"

"Stop," she reprimanded, rolling her eyes. "How far do I have to walk?"

"Sixteen blocks."

"Great."

"The food's really good," Lane said awkwardly, not meeting Dave's eyes. Going out with him was odd after not seeing him in so long.

"Yeah, it is. I love this place." Dave smiled. "So… what have you been up to since the last time we talked?"

"Not much." Lane bit her bottom lip. "I started college in Hartford. I'm majoring in Music Theory."

"Kinda tame for you, don't you think?"

"My mother had enough trouble accepting that to be my major. She's making me take a triple minor in a few premedicine fields."

"Fun." Dave took a sip of his soda, still staring at Lane. "So…"

It didn't take a genius to know that eventually, the tension would mount. "So…" Lane emulated, glancing away from Dave.

"Lane." Dave's voice held a tacit warning.

Lane sighed. "I, well… what do you want me to say?"

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Um, how about you start from the beginning. As in, after prom."

Lane bit her lip. "Okay…"