A/N: Here it is. Chapter 9. I hope you like it. It is my version of "I Can't Get Started" for this Fic. Please, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.

Disclaimer: Milo is making me a dirty Martini right about now . . .

Without further ado . . .

"Better drinking fountains, updated lockers, clearly marked boys' and girls' restrooms, non-dairy and wheat-free alternatives to the cafeteria, a larger voice in the monetary dispersal of charitable funds donated to our institution — because it is our institution, yours and mine. Remember people, If Chilton soars, we soar. If Chilton fails, we fail. It is up to us, we must get involved, we must care. It is not enough to sign a petition to get a Little Debbie machine installed in the senior corridor. Snack cakes will not change the world. Cream filling will not decide our legacy. How will future generations of Chilton students remember the class of 2003? John F. Kennedy once said, 'Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.' Those eloquent words are just as relevant to here in this hall today. What can you, the future of Chilton, of America, of the world, what can you do for your school? I can tell you what you can do. You can vote for me, Paris Ghellar, for student body president, and let me start tomorrow for you today. Thank you." Paris walked away from the podium, smiling and confident. Yes, she had nailed the speech.

Mrs. O'Malley then followed up her speech, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank Reese McGinly, Schazti Leason, and Paris Ghellar, your presidential candidates for next year. Elections will held this Friday. Good Luck to all of you. This conclude's today's assembly. You are all dismissed."

As everyone exited the auditorium, Paris walked over to Jess who was sitting in the hallway writing.

"Hey." Paris greeted.

He looked up from his assignment. "Hey." He echoed.

She smiled as he looked at her. "Did you get the Little Debbie comment?"

He rolled his eyes. "Uh huh."

"All of it? The creme filling, the snack cake?" She was seeming eager of his opinion. Jess dully noted this in his mind.

"Every delicious morsel."

"Good, Good," She seemed dissatisfied still, "So, how do you think it went?"

He smiled. "I think it went fine."

She bit her cheek. "Fine, as in better than Reese and Schatzi?"

"Fine as in Fine." He nodded for effect.

She nodded as well. "Well, how are you skewing the article?" She assumed that was what he was writing.

"Well, you'll just have to wait and read about it in The Franklin like everyone else."

She just nodded once more. "Fine, write whatever you want."

"I will." He replied, matter-of-factly.

This just annoyed her. She cocked her head, and placed her balled fists akimbo. "Just make sure that Schatzi pulling the Sharon Shone/Basic Instinct bit was a cheap attempt to distract the whole student body from my mandatory recycling program."

He just shook his head in unbelief. "Go away, Randolph!"

The two of them had created two piles, each having a large cardboard box labeled: PLAY and DON'T PLAY. For hours, Jess and Lane had been arguing over what music to play at the reception. Earlier, they had finally decided on the wedding song for Sookie and Jackson, both gravely deciding against Sookie's previous decision — Ella Fitzgerald's I Can't Get Started. However, the duo decided on another Jazz yet not so depressing crooner — Etta James' At Last. Both agreeing that it was classic, romantic, and wedding appropriate. Now, they were at a musical stalemate.

"Liz Phair?" Lane asked, holding up the super-goddess' self-titled album.

Jess shook his head. "That's a little intense. My grandparents are gonna be there. All though Supernova is a kick-ass song, Liz did kinda compare men to underwear. That hit me right there." He touched his heart for added dramatics, and she giggled.

"Okay," Lane placed the album in the reject box and picked up another, "Nirvana? They're classic!"

He rolled his eyes. "Lane, I've got one line for you, 'Eat your can cancer 'til it turns black.'"

She nodded, immediately turning it away, picking up another album. "Rolling Stones?"

He seemed intrigued. "Which one?'

"Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out?"

"Not wedding material. Neither is Sticky Fingers, but if you've got Happy, that's something we can work with."

"Dully noted." She placed the three previous mentioned albums in their correct boxes.

Lane continued to sift through more vinyls when she discovered a single 45. "The Luckiest?"

He raised an eyebrow, interested. "As in Ben Folds Five?"

"Yep!" She declared, confident that this one would be a winner.

He bit his lip in thought. "Obscure enough. Romantic enough. Not cheesy. By George, I think we have a winner!"

Lane smiled, dropping it into the PLAY box. "How 'bout Jeff Buckley?"

"Which one?"

"Grace."

He grinned. "Perfect." He thought a minute. "Hey, let's play it."

She put the record on the turnstile, and the soothing notes of Hallelujah came out.

I heard there was a secret cord/That David played and it pleased the Lord/ But you don't really care for music do you? That's how it goes, the fourth, the fifth . . .

"God, this is a great song!" Lane exclaimed, rocking her head to the beat.

Jess nodded. "I concur," He smiled to himself, a memory he was picturing in his mind from only a few days ago, "You know what Rory told me the other day?"

He looked to Lane. Her expression seemed to turn cold. They hadn't spent much time together lately. It was always Dana or Rory, an endless cycle.

"What?" Lane said, not looking at him, sifting through more records.

"When she had her first kiss, this song was playing in the background. How cheesy, huh?" He snickered to himself.

She lightly echoed his laughing. "Yeah," She paused, "Do you miss her, Jess?"

He didn't want to lie. Really. Lane was his best friend outside his mother. He could tell her everything. Everything but this. "Lane, Rory and I were friends. So, she went back to New York. I'll get over it. We talked about books, Lane. That's it."

She nodded, not believing a word he had just said. "Really?"

"Really." He echoed, trying to sound succinct.

With Paul McCartney's Maybe I'm Amazed softly playing in the background, the attendees of the reception slow-danced, including Jess and Dana. Then, while spinning her around for a second time, he saw someone walk up to the punch bowl out of the corner of his eye. It was Paris. He then stopped dancing to greet her.

"You better start belting Hail to the Chief, Gilmore!" Paris exclaimed with a huge grin one her face.

He smiled in return. "I'd rather not but congrats anyway."

"Thank you."

"Did you drive all the way to Stars Hollow just to tell me than you've been elected to be Chilton's newest communist dictator?"

"No, I'm actually here to say good-bye. I'm going to D.C. for the summer to learn how to be the best Karl Mark I can be."

"Well, say hi to Engels for me, and don't write any Manifestos while you're there."

She grinned and pulled him into a bear hug. "Bye, Jess. I'll miss you."

"Bye, Paris."

They then parted and were joined by his mother and father who had been dancing as well.

"Paris, what are you doing here?" Lorelai asked, with Chris' arm wrapped around her waist.

"Just saying good-bye. I'm going to Washington for the summer."

"As in Georgetown, the Pentagon, and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?" Chris threw in.

"That's the one."

He then felt his cell phone vibrate. "If you'll excuse me." He replied, pulling the phone out of his pocket.

They all nodded. "I really have to go. Nanny is taking me to the airport in an hour. Have a great summer, Jess. See in September."

She walked off towards the street. As he was waving to Paris, he saw a figure standing by a tree at the path towards the Inn. A very familiar figure. The color left his face, and he immediately felt dizzy, losing his equilibrium altogether. He then muttered something to his mother and girlfriend about being right back, then ran to the tree to get a closer look.

"What are you doing here?" At the sight of her, that was all he could say.

She smirked. "Hello to you, too," She paused to look into his wide eyes, "You clean up good."

"Thank you," His voice was extremely shaky, "Why did you come back?"

She shrugged. "Just wanted to I guess."

And then he did one of the most strangest things he'd ever done — He kissed her. And from their spot on the dance floor, the two women he'd just left behind were watching every move he made.

Dana looked crushed. "You knew he liked her. Didn't you, Lorelai?"

Lorelai seemed completely frazzled and lost for words. "Dana . . .I . ." She just stayed quiet and looked down at her shoes.

Well, I hoped you like it. This one is a bit short. I apologize for that. I also apologize for it being so long since I've updated. As you can see, this chapter was patterned after "I Can't Get Started."

To be specific, the first scene is straight from the episode. I'll give $5 to the first person who can guess how many times I had to watch this episode on DVD to get Paris' speech. Trust me, you don't wanna know. It's a little disturbing (Then again, the kissing scene between Milo and Alexis is just plain hot so that makes up for it!) Yes, you'll probably recognize the dialogue from that scene too. The scene between Lorelai and Dana was shaped after the scene between Lorelai and Dean at the end of "Back in the Saddle." Anyway, thank you all for your kind thoughts. I hope you liked it. Again, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.