..:Lost and Found:..

A/N: Like, OH EM GEE, legendary PersonY2K is back, after a yearlong break! I'm here to finish this story and maybe even right some more L/G fics, but it has been so long – hopefully I've improved, you see for yourself. I've half written this chapter already, so let's continue . . . lord, I forget how this fanfiction stuff works.

---

The next morning I woke up incredibly late. That tends to happen, doesn't it, whenever you're excited. You feel as if you're going to wake up bright and early because you're just so ecstatic to do whatever you're going to do, but then the next morning you glance at your clock and it's all "hallelujah, I'm late!" from there.

I rolled over and glanced at my clock. 9:06. 'Aw, it's a Saturday, I can sleep in,' I thought, starting to snuggle under the covers again, but that's when my brain caught up with my body and I sat bolt upright in the bed.

Of course! I wasn't Lizzie anymore, this was Elle! And I had found Gordo's address! And… the whole day came flooding back to me in a stream of emotions and thoughts. I pushed off my covers and went off to once again find the kitchen. I had a long day ahead of me.

It was funny, because while I was mixing together my newly-bought cereal, I was so ambitious to start finding Gordo that I almost forgot why. It was when I saw his framed picture in the back of the living room that I discovered why this quest was so important. Trying my hardest not to weep, I threw on my clothes, the sexiest and glittery-est I could find, and did my makeup. This was going to be my day, when our roles were switched. Me, as the amazing one, and him, as the swooning one. Oh, how long I had waited for this day! Throughout all of those pathetic girlfriends and mindless chattering, the hope that this day would soon arrive had kept me sane, and now it was finally that day.

I rehearsed it in my mind as I drove to Dynasty, how it would happen. I would ring the doorbell, no, knock on the door, and then he'd open it and I'd grab those soft cheeks of his and kiss him to death. Or maybe he'd answer, and I'd just stand there until he realized who I was and why I was there. There were so many possibilities, and not a negative one was adrift in my mind. It was all going to be perfect, no matter how it happened. As long as it happened today.

Sometime during my drive, I spaced out and began thinking about Gordo while subconsciously driving. If I could just touch him, it would be wonderful. And to run my hand through that gorgeous hair that resided atop his head… heaven, without a doubt. Still with mixed theories why I loved him so much, the daydreams started to drift in.

Romance scenes worthy of "Gone with the Wind" whirled about in my head, creating scenes of unforgettable love. Hand in hand as we strolled down the beach at midnight, my hair getting tousled in the light breeze, our feet touching as the water washed over them, staring at each other. His whispers drifted across my face and I beamed up at him, absorbing his dreamy voice and gazing into his humongous blue eyes. The sensation of his arm around my waist made my knees go weak, and yet we kept walking, together. Forever.

I closed my eyes and sighed, only to be brought back to consciousness by honking horns. Whoops, wrong lane. I sheepishly corrected my driving and began driving peacefully again, although this time an ounce more alert. I was now in Dynasty, and I stopped at a gas station to get directions.

"Excuse me, do you know where Parkinson Court is?" I rolled down the window and asked hastily, not giving the guy time to realize who I was.

"Yeah, it's four blocks that way, then take a right and then go straight for about a mile and then you'll see Marine Drive, and keep going until you turn left onto Parkinson," the guy pointed as he told me where to go. He squinted at me. "Hey, aren't you—"

"Thanks!" I rolled up my window and drove away quickly, leaving the gas guy completely confused.

I was starting to lose the feeling in my knees. I knew that in approximately seven minutes I would be ringing the doorbell of Gordo's house, and then he would open it, and then I would jump on top of him, squeezing him half to death. I realized that it was a possibility that he wasn't even home, but I didn't dare fill my head with pessimistic thoughts.

It was when I turned onto Marine Drive that I realized that Gordo and I had been apart for merely one lousy (okay, maybe not so lousy) day, and yet I was going absolutely crazy over him. Suffering from withdrawal, if you will. I cherished each and every moment I spent with Gordo, but never had those moments mattered as much as they did now. It was true; nothing seems important until it's gone.

My eyes filled up with thick tears of happiness as I saw the sign for Parkinson Court. My vision was blurred I glanced around, trying to find 3746. And there it was. A simple white house, stylistically touched up with stucco exterior, four windows, split-level… whatever. I didn't care, even if it was most possibly my next home. I practically glided out of the car and straightened my outfit. By the time I reached the door, I was not only trembling like it was negative fifty outside, but was crying, smearing all of my makeup by trying to wipe my tears.

I made one last prayer to God and pressed that doorbell hard, and It echoed through my heart like a thousand bells chiming and I closed my eyes, waiting for the door to open.

And so it did.

---

I found myself snuggled up in the warmth of a super-smushy couch, holding something that looked like a blanket dotted with miniscule bears. I blinked and stared at the layer of white-and-green smush that was in front of me. Where was I now? I was not up to more suddenly-changing experiences, not after the last one.

And of course, like it always does, everything cam flooding back to me so quickly I almost drowned in the sea of memories. What had happened? The doorbell had rung, and the door had opened, and now I was on a couch…? The series of events didn't fit. When had I fallen asleep? I couldn't even recall coming into this odd house with the black-and-green smush couches.

I rolled over so now I faced the room. "Nice house." I whispered.

"You think so?"

I froze, and yet I managed to turn around. And there, right in front of me, stood Gordo, the same as he had been before, with his unruly curls in a big mess, his sweatshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, and his jeans stained with grease and other food particles. I stared at him, speechless.

"It's not much." He sighed. "So, you feeling better?"

I blinked, unable to make my jaw to move.

He smiled, making me blush like an idiot. "At first when I saw you collapsed in a heap at my front door, I almost called 9-1-1. Then I noticed it was you. Elle McGuire. God." He shook his head and handed me a glass of orange juice. "I wanted to make sure you were completely passed out before handing you over to the doctors… we haven't talked in ages."

I nodded, taking a slow sip of orange juice and admiring every inch of this moment. Four feet away, we were barely four feet away from each other. His eyes were right there, gazing into mine—well, not so much as gazing, but he was looking at me. After all, he supposedly hadn't seen me in ten years or so, and little did he know that I had ran out on him just a few lousy days ago because he was so stupidly preoccupied with that egocentric Britney-Spears wannabe.

I wanted to hate him so badly, but one look—one mere glance at him and all hatred was lost. How could anyone hate just an innocent, amazing, wonderful guy like Gordo? Reviving a semi-stranger from fainting and then offering her juice… only Gordo would do it.

"So, what's been going on? Well, besides the Miss America thing…" He sat down on a nearby couch and looked at me intently, obviously expecting a spoken answer. But what was this girl to do? I was completely muted.

"I…" A sound! Eureka!

A tear started to form in the way back of my eye, a tear mixed of joy and sadness, and I could've sworn that good old Gordo spotted it before I did, for he started to console me right away.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to say anything..."

It rolled down my cheek and opened my voice. "Hey, Gordo." I said suddenly, sitting upright.

He looked at me, confused. "Hey."

"I missed you." I managed to squeak out, and he just smiled and replied with a simple "me too".

It was hard to explain how badly I felt like shrieking "I LOVE YOU", but I held back. How awkward would that be, having your ex-best-friend turn famous then come back to you someday and yell 'I love you'? I would be calling the authorities for sure. But it was so hard… especially as he ran his hand through his hair… I wasn't sure if I was living in one of my fantasies or if this was really real.

He laughed a laugh that was dripping simplicity, a laugh that tickled my insides and made me want to giggle. I didn't say anything in fear of bursting out into hysterics; he seemed to understand. We just sat in silence, glancing at each other every now and then to see if we should say something, but no words were spoken. It was a nice, comforting silence, not dripping with tension as I had dreaded.

"So, um . . ." I stumbled through icebreakers, although there wasn't much ice here. I wanted to say something, anything; so I said the first thing that came to mind – and turned out to be a huge mistake. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He blushed madly. I hoped this was because he was shy of not having one, as opposed shy of having one. I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, but I hadn't worked so hard to find him to talk about the weather. And now that I could speak reasonably, I was going to squeeze it out of him whether he liked it or not.

"I, uh . . ." he turned away for a few seconds, and when he was back, he smiled. "Are you sure you're okay? I mean, should I call a doctor . . . do you need water?"

So he was changing the subject, eh? Obviously something was going on with his love life; hopefully, he was infatuated by me and was too embarrassed to speak of another woman to my face. She would simply not be worthy of mentioning . . . oh, who was I kidding?

And what had happened to my plans of kissing him right when I saw him? I had been so weak that I had fainted at the sight of him, he probably thought I was some type of drama queen now that I was famous. I wanted to show him the Lizzie he was in love with in the body of Elle, but it wasn't proving to be as easy as I had thought.

"No, no, I'm fine, just haven't been eating much lately," I lied, battering my eyelashes at him and hoping to spark some sexual interest.

His expression didn't waver in the least, but he sighed. "Well, would you want to go out to dinner or something . . . just to catch up on times. I understand you have a busy schedule and all –"

My eyes widened at this and I cut him off immediately. This was my big chance! "Oh, no, it's fine. In fact, I'll pay."

"Haha, no, you really shouldn't," he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "I should, and I will. See you at . . . Francesco's Garden, have you heard of that place?"

"Have I ever," he ran his fingers through his mess of hair, and I melted. I had been waiting for him to do that ever since I had woken. "See you at eight."

"It's a date."