A/N: I apologize if anyone seems out of character. I just couldn't get the vibe for parts of this chapter. Suggestions are welcome!!!
Dean nearly dropped the phone, but recovered quickly.

"Yeah, uh, hang on." He practically stammered. He looked at his wife and mother-in-law, hoping they weren't paying attention to how weird he was acting. They weren't even looking at him. "It's Tom." He said, standing up. "I gotta take it." Lindsey nodded, and went back to talking to her mom. Dean left the table and stepped out onto the back porch of his mother-in-law's house.

"Rory...."

"Hi."

"I...."

"I know."

"How are you?"

"Okay."

"Really? Because we left things really badly."

"I know."

"How's you're trip?"

"Good."

"So, where are you?"

"London."

"When will you be home?"

"In a few days."

"Really? I've missed you......Did you hear me?"

"Yeah. I....I've missed you too."

"God, Rory, I've been going crazy around here without you."

"How...How are things with Lindsey?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"Oh."

"Look, Rory..."

"Actually, Dean, I've gotta go."

"I love you, Rory."

"I....I know. Bye Dean."

"Bye Rory."

Dean flipped his phone shut, and turned around to head back into the house and a lunch he wasn't sure he'd be able to eat any more of. The sight that met his eyes chilled him to the bone. There was his wife, standing in the doorway, hand clasped over her mouth, and tears coursing down her cheeks.

Oh, hell.
Rory hung up the phone and stared at Paris with a wide-eyed expression before promptly bursting into tears. Paris went over to her friend, and in an unusual touchy-feely moment, hugged her. After a few minutes of sobbing, Rory pulled away. Embarrassed, she wiped her cheeks.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to turn into Niagara." She apologized.

"It's ok, Rory." Paris accepted. "What did he say?"

"He didn't tell her." Rory was trying not to break down again.

"I feel the need to do something vicious to him." Paris threatened.

"No, don't." Rory stopped her friend from Dean-bashing.

"Well, then. This calls for extreme measures." Paris commanded, stalking over to the phone.

"What's that?" Rory asked, almost afraid. After all, she'd known Paris for four years now, and the blonde's idea of extreme could be a little frightening.

"Ice cream. Lot's and lot's of ice cream." Paris replied, picking up the phone and pushing a button. "Hello, room service?"
When Lorelai re-entered the diner that evening, frazzled was not the word she would have used to describe herself. Frazzled was a tame description for what she was feeling. Jason's visit had left her rattled, jumping at shadows. More than anything, she wanted to tell Luke. Had wished she'd told Luke the minute that Jason had started acting more like a stalker and less like a jilted ex-lover. In Lorelai's land of denial, Jason would go away on his on. She'd dated him for six months, known him for years longer(Umlats and Digger), and for heaven's sake, she'd slept with the man. She reasoned that she would be the first to know if he had psychotic tendancies.

He so did.

His calling her every other day was annoying, but she understood that sometimes it was hard to let go. She never called him back, a fact which didn't seem to deter him in the least. Jason had sent her flowers for the grand opening of the inn, and while she'd appreciated them, the card that he'd sent along had made her uneasy. He'd signed it 'Love, Jason.' Love. People who were broken up with one member of the former relationship already dating someone new did not sign cards with 'Love'.

Lorelai sighed, seating herself at the counter. She'd kept all this from Luke, and after Jason's visit today she was itching to tell him and get his advice. She just didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him think that she was leading Jason on in some way. Even more worrisome, she didn't want to tell him and cause him to go flying off the handle. She'd seen Luke angry-mostly at herself, she admitted-and she had a feeling that what she had seen was only a fraction of what he was capable of feeling.

Sighing, Lorelai settled herself at the counter and waited for Luke to step out of the back.
Lindsey turned around and fled back into the house. Dean was on her heels. He grabbed her by the arm, and whirled the sobbing girl around so that she was facing him.

"I'm sorry." He choked out. He didn't know what else to say. He was glad that his mother-in-law had seemingly disappeared. Lindsey calmed to calm at those words, and Dean had hope, for a moment that things wouldn't be as bad.

Then she spoke.

"How long?" She asked, her voice husky and dangerous. Dean looked at everything but Lindsey's tear streaked face. "How long were you sneaking around with her behind my back?" Lindsey demanded. Dean flinched. "How Long?" she shouted, nearly letting out another sob.

"Not...long." Dean finally admitted.

"I knew.....I knew...." Lindsey replied,talking to herself.

"Lindsey, I..." Dean began. She held up a hand to silence him.

"I know. You're sorry." Lindsey said, her voice unnaturally quiet. "Sorry doesn't make what you did ok, Dean." He nodded. "Did you even want to be with me at all? Was I just a substitute for her?" She asking a little girl voice.

"God, Lindsey. I care about you. I married you." Dean answered her, running his hand through his hair.

"But you don't love me. Not like I love you." Lindsey paused. "Not like you love her."

"I tried." Dean told her, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye. "I wanted to love you."

"You've been in love with her this whole time." Lindsey stated the obvious.

"Linds, I..." Dean started to say, when she interrupted him.

"Get out." She said them so quietly that he thought he'd imagined them.

"Lindsey..." He tried again.

"Get out!" She shouted, plainly this time. There was no mistaking her words. "Get out!, get out!, get out!" Lindsey shrieked, tearing up the stairs. Dean had no choice but to head out the front door.

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They were watching Casablanca. Rather, Paris was watching it, and Rory was pretending to watch it. There were several empty ice cream cartons surrounding the pair on the bed. Rory glanced at Paris, who was engrossed in the movie, and mumbled that she'd be back in a sec, and ducked into the massive bathroom. Dialing on her cell phone, Rory waited anxiously for her mother to pick up.

"International House of Coffee, Lorelai speaking."

"How's your Swiss Mocha taste?"

"Like it was grown in the Alps of Mexico."

"Sounds delicious. I'll have to have a cup when I get into town."

"When will that be?"

"We should land in Hartford Tuesday night."

"We'll have a party."

"I expect nothing less."

"I've missed you, babe."

"I've missed you too."

"I gotta go, Mom. Paris is banging on the bathroom door."

"Ok, Sweets. Love Ya. See ya on Tuesday."

"Love you too. Oh, and Mom? 'Grown in the Alps of Mexico'? Not your best."

"Well you try and be witty at three am."

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry, I forgot about the time difference."

"It's ok. It was worth it to talk to you."

"Bye Mom.

"Bye Kiddo."

Rory hung up with a smile on her face. Her first real smile in ages.
Lorelai hung up, and settled back against her pillows. She grinned. Rory was coming home.

"Rory?" A male voice spoke up, causing her to turn and look at Luke. He was laying in the bed beside her, and his voice with thick with sleep.

"Yeah. She's coming home, Luke." Lorelai felt an unknown weight lifting off her shoulders.

"I'm glad." He said, slipping an arm across her waist. She snuggled up against him in reply.

"Can we have a welcome home party at the diner?" Lorelai wanted to know.

"Yes, as long as you let me go back to sleep." Luke grumbled.

"Ok, ok." She replied.

"Sleep, Lorelai."

"Yes, Master."