DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Well, just the kids. You understand. Blah, Blah. I own no money, how's that?
He'd seen this type of situation in movies and on television shows, and now he could say with no doubt in his mind that nothing he'd seen on film could quite capture the reality of looking a line-up of potential rapists. He was glad the local police didn't seem to have a problem with him coming in with Anna. They said that most victims come with someone else, a support system. Those that come in alone, those were the ones they worried about—or so Officer Mitchell informed him while Anna was receiving instruction on what to do in the viewing room.
She now eyed each suspect carefully, trying to clear her mind like the officers had instructed. Will leaned up against the back wall, giving her space. What she would be doing today without him was beyond her. He knew when to give physical contact, and what kind, as well as knowing when to back off. He couldn't do anything for her now. Now it was all up to her.
She took another deep breath, willing her mind to open up. She hated to think back to that night, but she had to now. She stared at the height chart that the men were standing against, and suddenly it hit her that there were only two possibilities. She herself was 5'7½", and the others were 5'8" and below, the shortest being only 5'6". The man that attacked her was definitely over 6'. When he grabbed her, his chin had brushed up against the topside of her head.
"It has to be either 2 or 4," she said, her voice much stronger than she'd thought it would come out.
"Everyone but 2 and 4, you can go," Officer Mitchell announced into a microphone, and the other men filed out of the room.
She closed her eyes, and tried to see as much of that night as possible. The man had been wearing a ski mask, and all black clothing. A black-hooded sweatshirt. Black jeans. Boxer shorts. She could almost feel his hot breath on her neck, and she visibly began to shake. Will stepped forward, and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Ann?"
"I'm okay."
"Can she take a break, here?" Will asked, but Officer Mitchell shook his head at him.
"Give her a minute, let her think."
Will crossed his arms over his chest, not wanting to have to watch Anna go through all of this again, but not willing to leave her alone either. He himself looked at the two remaining suspects, and he could feel the loathing building up inside of him. One of these two men did this to her. He rubbed one hand furiously over his forehead, closing his eyes so as not to look at these men.
"Turn to your right, please."
The suspects did as told, and Anna jumped back a little.
"Ohmygod."
"Ms. Melville?"
"It's four."
"Are you sure?"
"See the tattoo? On his neck?"
"You remember a tattoo?"
"I do now. I saw part of it, his hood fell down, towards the end, and," she gasped the words, getting it all out, and desperately wanting to leave the room.
"You're positive it's number four?"
"Yes," she looked the officer dead in the eye, before turning to Will. "Will?"
"Can we go now?" he asked, seeing that she obviously couldn't take anymore. She was still shaking, and he could see the first tears starting to fall from her eyes.
"Yeah, you guys are all set. Ms. Melville, thank you for your cooperation. We'll be in touch."
Will reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the room as fast as possible. When they got to the main door of the station, he pulled it open and ushered her through. They stood there, in the cold December air, their lungs nearly freezing on their first inhalation. She continued to shake, but he was almost sure that now it was because she was still holding her coat in the sub-freezing temperatures.
"So," he began, not quite sure what to say to someone after they correctly identified a perp. "We should get in the car."
She nodded, still not realizing she wasn't wearing her coat. He took it out of her hands, and placed it over her shoulders, pulling it closed over the front of her. She looked down at where his hands met, holding her coat shut, and smiled.
"Oh. Thanks."
"Come on. I'm in the mood for coffee," he said, putting his arm around her to lead her to the car.
&&&&
All that was visible of Tristan was his posterior sticking out from the refrigerator. Rory stood behind him, enjoying the view.
"There's nothing in here."
"I wouldn't say that."
"You see something edible in here?"
"I see something I could nibble on," she said suggestively, finally causing him to turn and smirk at his wife.
"Oh really?" he asked, letting the door shut as he moved over to where she stood. "And what if I'm actually hungry?"
"We have an entire house to ourselves, with no end of privacy in sight, and you want to eat?" She cocked a single eyebrow at him, hoping he wasn't going to waste too much time playing devil's advocate.
"Rory. I haven't eaten since early this morning, and all I had then was one bite of Ella's pancakes. I'm starved."
"Hmm. I see," she nodded sympathetically, and moved around him to look into the fridge herself. She glanced over the contents, and turned back to him with a smile.
"Go upstairs."
"What? Why?"
"I'm going to bring up a feast for you."
"You're going to cook for me?"
She simply smiled.
"I should go now, before my questioning ruins it, right?"
She nodded, and he turned and ran up the stairs as fast as his legs would move.
&&&&
Ella found Billy back at the car, leaning up against it in a James Dean fashion. She'd just gotten done with her personal tour from the Dean of Admissions, who was of course a friend of the family, and pleased to do it. She'd seen dorms, libraries, classrooms, and more. She was utterly exhausted and when offered lunch as well, she told the Dean that she really needed to find her friends so they could do some exploring on their own. The Dean had smiled, and winked, saying they'd see her next fall. Now, standing here at a short distance from Billy, seeing him waiting on her, it occurred to her: only if she chose Yale would this scene ever become a true reality for her. All her other choices were further away, and seeing Billy would be as hard as it was now, with her in New York. If she went to Yale, she'd be close to him. He could easily come visit.
She shook the thoughts from her head, reminding herself that they'd never really talked about what he planned on doing next year. He'd jokingly commented that he'd never get into a college, but he was trying after all, wasn't he? She bit her lip, realizing they needed to really talk about this.
"Got a smoke?"
His head snapped towards her, and he had to smile as she slinked over to him, in that sexy way she had.
"You smoke?"
She shrugged, and slid up next to him, also resting against the car.
"You really are a bad girl, aren't you?"
"I have smoked. Dad keeps some stashed in his bottom desk drawer. He thinks no one knows he has any," she smiled, turning now to face Billy. Her body was pressed into him, and she liked how warm his torso always was.
"So, do they let smokers into Yale?"
She nodded, her expression neutral.
"And this doesn't excite you? Do you know what I'd do if I got into Yale?"
She shook her head, awaiting his continuation.
"Well, there would be yelling and a happy dance, and probably even some of those cigarettes I don't have, by the way."
She smiled, and nodded. "Where did you apply?"
"What?"
"To college. You did apply somewhere, didn't you?"
"I did."
"So, where did you apply?"
"Just some state schools. A couple of community colleges for safety."
"Oh," she nodded.
He shifted slightly, obviously uncomfortable. "Where's Jane at?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's just, I don't like talking about school."
"Why?"
"Ella, please, let's not do this."
"Do what?"
"You're going to your choice of fancy schools. I'm going to the equivalency to refrigerator college," he said, looking down at his feet.
"Stop that! God, you're smarter than you think you are, and so what if you go to a state school? Or even a community college? You can get your grades up there and transfer to somewhere better, if you want!"
He looked at her, as she yelled at him, the same things that his parents always said. "Ella," he sighed.
"What? And don't tell me you have to settle with what life gave you. That's crap."
"I just wondered why you cared so much where I go to school."
Now it was her turn to look at her shoes.
"Ella?"
"I just thought, you know, it might be nice if we were in the same area."
"What?"
"I saw you, here, waiting on me, and I thought if I came here, and you were in Hartford or something, you know, that we could see each other more."
"Oh," he said, partially stunned, partially doing that little internal happy dance he'd mentioned earlier.
"You think I'm stupid," she nodded, moving away from him.
"No, no, hey, come here," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist in an effort to pull her closer to him. "Hey, look at me. You go wherever you want. We'll figure it out, how to see each other and all that. I'll get an extra job just for bus fare, if I have to."
She looked into his eyes, and saw how serious he was about his last comment. "You'd smell like the bus, for me?"
He smiled, trying not to laugh right in her face. She smiled back, and he leaned down to kiss her. She stood up straighter, and wrapped her arms around his neck, to pull herself up and closer to him.
"Get a room!" came a disgruntled, yet increasingly familiar voice. The two broke their lip lock, but rested their foreheads together instead as Jane came flouncing towards the car and tried the door handle.
"It's locked," she commented, obviously in a very bad mood.
"Two more whole colleges to look at?" Billy asked, desperation in his voice.
"I'll owe you. Big," she promised as she gave him a quick peck on the lips before digging her hand down into her purse to retrieve the car keys so they could be on their way to Princeton.
&&&&
The only two options to go upstairs at Luke and Lorelai's house were the main bathroom and their bedroom. Opting for what he hoped his wife wanted, he went into the bedroom, and looked around. He'd been in this room more than once, usually to corral the kids or pick up his sleeping children. He actually hadn't been up here in years, since the kids were too old to be locked up here with a movie and a board game during the 'adult' parties. There were pictures on Lorelai's dresser, ones of Rory as a small girl, some of Will riding on Luke's shoulders when he was younger. One of what looked like Lorelai in crutches many years ago. He picked up a picture of Rory, obviously dressed up as a princess for Halloween. She looked about six, and he smiled. It was amazing how much Ella resembled Rory. It'd always been uncanny, the resemblance, but this really could be mistaken for a picture of Ella, if there hadn't been a tiny Lane also in the background of the shot. She appeared to be wearing a hot pink, spiky wig and leg warmers.
"Whatcha' doin' there?"
Her voice interrupted his thoughts, but he didn't stop looking at the picture in his hands.
"This picture of you as a fairy princess, and what I believe is Lane's first realization of her rock star dreams," he laughed.
"Put the picture down, and turn around slowly," she instructed, and his curiosity shot up. He did as she said, and his jaw almost hit the floor when he could see her clearly.
She was covered in whipped cream. Well, not head to toe, but she'd managed a bikini at any rate. He looked her up and down, a favorite past time of his, and swallowed hard.
"You said you were hungry, right?"
"Wow."
She grinned and brought her hand out from behind her back. In it, a large bottle of chocolate syrup. She held it out, presenting it to him almost as a gift.
"The only thing is, I don't want to wreck Mom's bed, so there's a big plastic tarp behind me here in the hallway, so I'm going to need you to put it down on the bed. I don't think the whipped cream will stay if I bend down," she frowned. Only she could be thinking logically while covered in whipped cream. He'd take care of that in a moment. Nodding, his brain barely registering her instructions now, he moved behind her in the hallway and did as she suggested. She slid onto the tarp, and he moved over her, taking the bottle of syrup from her, and began to decorate her all white coverings. He swirled and striped, not stopping 'til he was satisfied with his artwork. He at last put the bottle down, just when he thought he couldn't take the anticipation any longer, and moved over his sugarcoated wife.
"This removal process may take a while," he warned her.
"I'm okay with that."
"I may have to go over certain areas, many times, just to make sure I've got it all," he raised an eyebrow, hovering his mouth just centimeters from her waiting skin.
"Right," she said, trying to keep her tone even, but her body was already heady in anticipation of this treat she'd arranged for herself.
He lowered his head, his tongue attacking the smoother, flatter areas of her body first. She arched up a bit, when he came around the underneath side of one breast. He knew what she was after, and he simply shook his head.
"Ah, ah, ah. Patience," he chastised her, moving back down to her stomach and starting another long, agonizing path up her body. She sank down, and let herself fall into the blissful haze of the feeling of his soft tongue dancing over her skin.
&&&&
"You're sure you don't mind?" Luke asked again, looking at his nephew.
"I don't mind."
"'Cause I can put this off," Luke offered.
"Go. The bank will close in a few short hours, and if you keep this up, we'll still be having his conversation."
"You don't have to watch the place, though, you can go write, or take a walk, or," Luke continued.
"Luke. Go. You take a walk. It's dead in here, anyway. I've watched the diner before, you know," he said sarcastically.
"Fine. I'll only be an hour, tops."
"Great."
Luke rolled his eyes. He was never disappointed by his nephew's well of unending sarcasm. No matter his mood, Jess could conjure up a comeback. But at least he was willing to help him out. Deciding he should just be glad of that, he took his coat, and said his last piece.
"One hour."
"Go!"
Luke went out the door, the bell overhead chiming as he went. Jess wondered if Luke ever tired of that noise, or if he simply didn't even hear it anymore. Like the sound of the keyboard clicking as he typed for himself. Deciding he should probably do something productive, he grabbed a rag and began to wipe off the counter. It was then that the door opened again, setting off the bell.
He wished he couldn't hear it anymore.
He'd have to ask Luke about it later.
"Cup of coffee, please."
He looked up, and nodded at the woman who'd taken up residence at the barstool in front of him. He'd never seen her in here before, or around town for that matter. Of course, all his time wasn't spent in this Frank Capra set.
"Here or to-go?"
"Trying to get rid of me? I thought towns like this were supposed to be friendly," she smiled. She had a pretty smile; her teeth were straight, and not glaringly white.
"Yeah, well, I'm from New York."
"So, what, you killed the owner, and now you're rude to all his customers?"
"Guess that's one more body I'll have to fit in my trunk," he smiled back at her.
"So, you're not Luke?" she pointed to the sign.
He shook his head. "I'm Jess, his nephew."
"I'm Gwen," she extended her hand. He took it and, shook it briefly.
"Anything with that coffee?"
"What do you recommend?"
She was still smiling at him. It hit him that she was flirting, something that in all honesty did happen to him quite a bit, but he never found himself doing back. He was married, after all. Separated, he now reminded himself. He was separated. His wife was in California with another man, living another life.
"Do you like pie?"
She nodded again, looking down briefly to put sugar into her coffee. He slid a piece of pumpkin pie in front of her.
"You aren't going to have some, too?"
"I'm working," he reminded her.
"You don't really work here."
"Just on holidays," he corrected.
"What do you do the rest of the year?"
"I'm in publishing. And I write."
"Anything I've heard of?"
"It's not done yet."
"Ah."
"And what brings you here?"
She blushed. "I got lost."
He smirked, and nodded. "So, the being nice has been in hopes that I will give you proper directions out of Boonesville?"
"Is that where we are?"
"Where are you trying to get to?"
"Right now, I'm not in a hurry, actually."
"Huh."
AN: Yes, yes, yes. It's a long one. And I'm a little evil for leaving it there, but you know me. I hope those of you begging for more Trory action liked this chappy. I enjoyed writing it. More ASAP.