Dear Wally

A story about a box that holds a treasure and finding out that that something you want in life is right in front of your nose

Notes

Post-"You Jump, I Jump, Jack"
Notes:
+ Emily and Richard are not together, they are separated.
+ Lorelai is still in Friday Night Dinner attendance.
+ Paris and Doyle are already in a dating relationship.
+ Rory and Dean are not together
Inspiration: (song) Dear Wally by Aslyn

Cast List

Rory Gilmore, Logan Huntzberger, Lorelai Gilmore, Luke Danes, Miss Patty, Paris Gellar, Doyle Evans, Finn Crawford, Colin Richardson, Stephanie Fontaine, Rosemary Petersen, Robert Grimaldi, Isabel Gardner, Emily Gilmore, Richard Gilmore, Sookie St. James, Jackson Belleville, Kirk Gleason, Taylor Doose, Marty, Michel Gerard, Steven Sebastian Easton, Walter Andrew Karay, Elisabeth Clara Easton Karay

Chapter Four

Tiny Little Interludes

Dear Wally,

Your letters are far and few between since I last wrote to you. I know you'll just write to me that a war is going on and you have to command your crew but I miss you writing to me and telling me of the awful jokes that Petty Officer Johnson is telling everyone. But I will still write to you nevertheless. Rand came over the other day to visit with me and happened to notice that loose porch railing that you conveniently forgot about before shipping off. He and Daniel are riding back the day after tomorrow to fix it for me or us, I should say. I know now why I married you – it was for your brother's carpentry skills. I love you.

Yours Always,

Elisabeth

Sometimes you had to take a breather, right? To breathe, to smell the cool, crisp January air around you and just enjoy, or try to enjoy the frosty Connecticut winter that was making its presence known outside the clear cut windows of the news room. Students had passed by, some in a mad dash to get out for the rest of the weekend and some were at a normal pace, taking their time to work on whatever story they were working on and trying to please Doyle in every which way so they would get top billing in the next issue of the Yale Daily News.

It was Saturday, the official day for all things in the wonderful world of Date-land and that's what they all were scrambling for; to get out of this room that reeked of work and school and enjoy their weekend. From first dates to blind dates to four month anniversary dates, you could circle around the colossal campus and see the couples getting started on their dates and drowning in their own kind of cuteness. Rory wasn't a part of that. Instead, she was in the news room, twirling around in her chair and deciding what to do next.

That was always the hard thing to decide: what to do next. She had been researching Elisabeth for over two weeks now and had done everything possible without breaking any laws. All she knew about what she had promised Doyle a full and front page article on was a postmark that laid claim to the original post office that once upon a time sat in Stars Hollow and a lovesick, expectant mother who filled her days by chatting with her neighbor and reading anything she could get her hands on. And Rory was actually frustrated with that.

Staring out the clear cut windows, Rory thought about the letters and the soft cursive writing that had faded against the pieces of paper. She loved how Elisabeth wrote – how she pined for a man that was halfway across the world fighting for the greater good and still stole her heart everyday. She loved how Elisabeth wrote of Stars Hollow – the quirky town that was still just that, quirky and a wave of comfort washed over her as a smile emerged on her face and she saw Marty pass the window. Even the fact that Elisabeth's Misses Hodges mirrored Babette was comforting. Elisabeth's words were…lovely, if you could use that word for her words; especially about the way of life in 1917.

But she would love Elisabeth even more if she would tell her something about herself. An eye color, her favorite flower in the springtime, more gossip about Mr. David and his courting rituals or even a last name. Rory would love a last name. If she had a last name of any kind, besides Hodges and David, then this article would get a major helping hand, Doyle would get off of her back and the letters could finally find a place to call home.

Her dorm room, her Stars Hollow home and not even her grandparent's house, where she would sometimes go to think and read them was not their home. Rory imagined their home to be with a wondering granddaughter or grandson. They would be researching just like her for a connection to find their long lost grandmother or mother. It was a mystery nonetheless and it was one that had all of her.

Twirling back around in her chair and facing the computer screen once again, Rory watched as old newspaper clippings of the war skimmed by her eyes and were never-ending. Letting out a deep sigh, she looked down to one of the letters and began reading again. Maybe this time around, the sixth time if she remembered correctly, she would pick something up, something she had missed before.

Too bad that that would have to wait as her cell phone rang loudly on top of her desk and took everyone's attention from their work to her. She suddenly felt like she was a thoroughbred in the middle of a herd of zebras or more likely, in Luke's Diner being yelled at by her makeshift Dad. But the ring was a dead giveaway. Maniac was only reserved for the one and only Lorelai Gilmore.

"Tell me that this is Miss Patty and you borrowed my mom's phone just to annoy Luke and tell me why one earth you gave me this box that had a unsolved mystery inside it," Rory breathed out all in one breath and waited for Miss Patty's voice to come over the receiver, but luck was just not on her side today.

"Sorry babe, but if you want, I can dig up some juicy gossip for you because Babette and Mrs. Young are standing right outside the door," Lorelai offered to her daughter who was sounding just as frustrated as she looked. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I just need a miracle."

"I hear that those are hard to come by."

"I heard that too," Rory answered back, leaning back in her chair and looking back over at the computer screen, noticing that the slideshow had finally stopped. "So, what's up?"

"Oh, yea that, I just wanted to see if you were free for ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"Yea."

"Mom, I'm at Yale," Rory informed her mother just in case Lorelai was setting up the hologram machine too many times again. The hologram machine was meant to be used for practical jokes and those were reserved for Taylor. "You're in Stars Hollow."

"Not the point. See, the way I see it, you can get out of that place you call your fourth home and walk yourself down to one of the coffee carts or cafeteria and get a smoothie or whatever and we could talk and have ice cream."

"And I'm willing to bet my entire college tuition that you just pulled out that excuse from the very large top hat on the kitchen table and what you really want to talk about is Elisabeth," Rory said, moving her mouse all over the place to either exit or minimize the several programs open on her computer screen.

Reaching for her purse, Rory held the mobile phone to her ear and listened as the sound of Lorelai's engine shut off and she lightheartedly walked out of the news room.

"No fair, Harry told you," Lorelai pouted.

"Harry?"

"The top hat. I gave him a name since he's been staying at our place for a while now and it just seemed right. Like Luke's toolbox is Bert and your cast was Casty," Lorelai paused as she waltzed into Luke's Diner, "so, tell me about Elisabeth."

"You know as much as I do," Rory let her worries go as Lorelai asked, "what did I get myself into?"

Isabel Gardner was a dream date. She had that classic beauty about her that screamed runway model or even better, heiress to a Hollywood regime. She was one of those girls that made everyone weak in the knees when she passed by and had you begging at her feet to spend at least two minutes with her. And tonight, she just happened to be Logan's dream date.

But she wasn't the girl he was thinking about just now. Instead, he was thinking of a bookworm. The kind that spent all day in the news room chasing leads, so to speak, that would hopefully lead her to the end of her mystery. The kind that spent every waking minute going on wild goose chases only to end up right where she started. He couldn't tell you why he was thinking of her, he just was.

It had been six days since the last time he purposely cut her off and refreshed her caffeine fix and for some reason, he was actually missing her. He never missed anyone and most of his friends could vouch for that. Heck, she was just a girl…a girl who somehow had slipped into his life without him really noticing and left a lingering trail. She was just a girl who, unlike the others, wasn't interested in him romantically. She was just interested in a story and that's what he liked about her.

Standing in front of the floor length mirror, Logan looked over his chosen outfit for the night and let out a sigh, thinking that this was as good as it was going to get. With his staple outfit on, the black shoes, black pants, black shirt combo, he turned around to find Stephanie beaming with a mischievous smile on her face and silently reassessing his ensemble.

"Would it kill you to wear some color once in a while?" she offered and strolled into his room, brushing past him and looking into his closet.

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Logan looked down his black upon black ensemble that he was quite content with and back up at her as she reached into the back of his closet, pulling out some of the shirts that he never wore.

"Okay, one, black is not the only color in the rainbow and two, this is Isabel Gardner," she refreshed his mind into the wonderful world of color and who he had a date with tonight.

"I know this is Isabel Gardner."

"Okay, good. Then I suppose you know that she favors guys who like to wear color, right?" Stephanie raised her eyebrow and picked out a soft green shirt from the pile on his bed.

Taking it off the hanger, she laid it over his desk chair and started to help him out of his jacket. Logan couldn't believe this. He was literally being undressed and dressed again by his best girl friend. He was actually taking advice from a girl who had previously loved to sabotage all of his dates with every girl in his so called line that she insisted that he had.

Slipping on the green shirt over his upper frame, he couldn't help but think Stephanie had something up her sleeve. Of course she had something up her sleeve, she was Stephanie; the girl who he had known since sophomore year in high school.

They had met at one of the many dances between Andover and Franklin Academies and had hit it off, friendship wise. She was a good friend, had been through most of his rebellious stages and introduced him to his other best friends, known as Finn and Colin or more commonly Abbott and Costello these days. But nonetheless, ever since he had reentered Yale in the fall, she had resumed her role in sabotaging each and every one of his dates and now with her being gung-ho on this date…Logan had to be suspicious.

Looking at her straight in the eyes as she sat back on his bed, he buttoned up the shirt and started to suspect the worst. "What are you up to?"

"What?"

"You. What are you up to?"

"What kind of question is that Logan?" she countered back and kicked off her shoes.

"The kind that deserves an answer. Spill."

"I don't have anything to spill," she paused as she smiled and tried to divert the conversation to something else. "What time are you supposed to pick her highness up?" Stephanie referred to Isabel, knowing that she was the reigning prima donna on campus.

"Seven. You're avoiding the question," he pointed out as she got up from his bed and dragged him out into the common room where Finn was entertaining a random red head that he had somehow put under his spell. "What? Where?"

"Too many questions, Huntz. You have exactly ten minutes to make it across campus to pick Princess Isabel up and if you're one minute late, you will never have another date with her even if you are a Huntzberger," Stephanie said in one breath as they reached the door and she practically shoved him out of his own room.

"But you're up to something," he still insisted. He knew her better than that.

"Well, yeah," she shrugged her shoulders and started to close the door. "But that's for me to know and you to find out."

The door shut in front of his face and he smirked to himself. This was classic Stephanie and he wouldn't have it any other way. Glancing down to his watch, he noticed that seven was fast approaching and if Stephanie was right, which somehow seemed to be all of the time, he needed to speed up his gait. And he headed off, green shirt and all.

Stephanie turned around and leaned up against the back of the door. This was good, this was very good. A plan she didn't have but she did have an agenda; an agenda that included Colin and Finn whether they liked it or not. Rosemary was already on her side the minute that she mentioned disassembling Logan's line.

Of course every other girl on campus was against the idea but unlike any other girl, neither Rosemary nor Stephanie had any interest in claiming Logan for themselves. Rosemary had laid claim on Finn for some odd reason and anyone who wanted to mess with her was in deep trouble. So that meant that the red head sitting on the couch with Finn was in it. Stephanie, on the other hand, was not in the market for anyone in particular. Although the vibes she was getting from Colin were mixed at the moment.

Looking over to the couch where Finn was pathetically trying to get past first base with the Scottish exchange student who had been on campus for less than a week, Stephanie decided to put her idea in motion. First step: tear Finn away from the red head and that was going to be a challenge in itself.

"Finney," she called out, leaning on the back of the couch and lodging herself in between the two. "Hi," she smiled at him.

"Hello Sheila," he responded, still staring at Susie or Chloe, Stephanie couldn't remember her name and she doubted if Finn did as well.

"I need a favor, Finney."

"What would this favor entail?"

"Would you happen to know where Logan keeps those little black books of his?"

"This is a guy's dream date," Logan reminded himself as he approached Isabel's dorm room door with twenty four carat gold numbers on the side. She was an heiress with a bigger trust fund than he had, of course she would have twenty four carat gold numbers decorating her door.

Reaching out to knock on her door, he took one last glance down at his outfit and wondered why he listened to Stephanie at all and wore the green shirt. He liked the black, he should be wearing black. Shaking his head of the thought, he was acting like a girl and he was anything but a girl. He just wanted to look good for his date with Isabel. Any guy would want to look good for Isabel, just like any girl wanted to look good for him.

Glancing around the vestibule, he noticed Yvette walking up to her door as well with a two bags full of junk food in her arms. Yvette was Isabel's roommate, for lack of a better word. Yvette was hardly there, being one of those girls who traveled aboard for all her studies and had internships at every business in New Haven. That left little time for anything else, including the politics of roommates and dating relationships. Walking up towards her to help her with the overflowing bags, she was equally surprised that he was a bit early to pick Isabel up.

"Hey Huntz, are you here for Isa?"

"Yea, we have a date," he told her and waited as she opened up the door for the both of them. Confused, she looked back at him and stared.

"No you don't."

"Yes we do."

"No you don't," she continued to argue with him, taking the bag fro his arms and setting it on the table that was conveniently close to the door.

"I believe we do. I should know, I mean, I did ask her out."

"Yea, for yesterday."

"What?" Now, he was confused. It was Saturday, the day he had Isabel's name under in his calendar. They were supposed to go out today.

"Yea, you were supposed to take her out yesterday. Tonight she's out with Gordon Hensley," Yvette informed him, unpacking most of the junk food on the coffee table for her study session with her buddies Ben, Jerry and Tony the Tiger.

"Gordon Hensley? The Gordon Hensley?" Logan questioned. How could this happen? He had a schedule. Each day of the week was a different letter, a different girl and Saturday was Isabel. He was sure of it. He looked at his calendar before he left the dorm, before Stephanie had pushed him out and Isabel's name was written on Saturday, Danielle was Friday and Hilary was Sunday. What was going on?

"The one and only. She tried to call you, but I guess you were out last night too, right?"

"Right."

"I would invite you to stay and join me, but I kind of had a date with Ben and Jerry here, so, if you don't mind," Yvette motioned towards the door. Like Rory, she was the only other girl on campus who didn't want to date him. And he liked that about her.

"Right, I'll just…" Logan motioned towards the door and let himself out, hearing the door latch and Yvette deadbolt the lock behind him.

What was he going to do now? Saturday was date night or LDB night. The LDB thing was two weekends from now and him without a date on date night was unheard of. Going back to the dorm with Finn spread out on his couch with whoever the random redhead was was just not an option.

But this wasn't a tragedy. He really didn't feel like going out with Isabel anyway, so it wasn't a total loss but he didn't want to go back to his dorm and finish that paper that Professor Hiller was bugging him to write. Logan had an idea then and there was no place he'd rather be. Two quarts of Cherry Garcia and Chunky Monkey coming up.

Food. That was all she could think about as each and every computer screen flashed with different international headlines about anything that had to do with The Great War. She was starving but even the thought of leaving the news room for a minute was not an option. She was too tired to get up and desperately wanted to stay in case anything came up.

Which, by the way things were looking, wasn't going to happen any time soon. What she wouldn't give for that miracle to happen right now. She would even let Logan help her with all of this if that meant a last name, anything pertaining to Wally and Elisabeth's life or her secret. She would even let him take the whole article over if it meant finding out something.

Letters were spread over her desk starting from April 1917, when Elisabeth had started writing small notes to Wally. She would write about her worries and how scared she was that she would be losing him. Faded black ink told of Stars Hollow and the few businesses that they had; the life that was.

The notes had become letters when Wally had left for Europe and Elisabeth wrote him faithfully every day, telling him of America's happenings and his family coming to check on her periodically. The letters she had read had gone until November of 1918 when WWI had ended. She could only assume that was when Wally came home but there was no indication that he did.

Her stomach grumbled one more time as she let her eyes dart over the scattered letters. That miracle wasn't looking all that bad right now, the only problem being if she could spot it in the mess on her desk. Darting her eyes towards the computer and opening up a new search engine, Rory logged in to check her e-mail.

Since there was nothing else that she could do without committing at least five different felonies, checking if Lane had sent her those pictures that she had been bragging about for the past two weeks of Brian getting hit on by blonde heiresses. If she did, that would make it on her desktop for sure.

And there it was. They always said that a picture is worth a thousand words and if anyone saw this picture, there would be at least three thousand words. Rory laughed to herself as she scrolled the different variations of Brian and the blond beauty at the Hep Aliens latest gig in Hartford.

She was laughing so much and paying attention to the pictures that she hardly noticed Logan standing in front of her desk. Startled when the sound of a paper bag started to crumble, Rory stood up from her chair and was greeted by a smug socialite.

"What are you doing here?"

"No need to thank me, Ace. Just stopped by to take up that offer," he nodded towards her and started to take off his jacket.

"Offer?" she raised her eyebrows at his statement. When did she offer him anything?

"Yea, you know that offer."

"You're a little vague on details here, Logan. When and why on earth would I offer you anything?"

"I believe your exact words were that if I wanted to see the article sooner, I could help and that I knew where you would be. So, here I am, wanting and willing to help to see this article complete with contraband," he motioned towards the bag that still had yet to be emptied of its contents.

"Contraband?" her interest was now peaked. "What kind of contraband?"

"How does Cherry Garcia or Chunky Monkey sound?" he offered to her.

So she wasn't really ready to let him help her but considering that he was loaded with contraband and probably could get away with the breaking the law thing considering that he was a Huntzberger and well known with the federal and local governments, she was willing to let him in.

"I'd say hand over the Chunky Monkey," she said, trying to reach her hand into the bag, but he caught it before she could reach the round container that held her second favorite Ben & Jerry's ice cream in it. "Logan…"

"I'll give you the Chunky Monkey, but what do I get?"

She knew it would come to this: a game of cat and mouse; tit for tat. Reaching into the stack of envelopes that were on the edge of the desk, she grabbed onto one and reluctantly handed it to him. Alone, she was helpless but maybe with a little help she could get somewhere. Rory would be the first to admit that Logan wasn't her first pick for the assistant gig but he would do.

"Now, was that so hard?" he toyed with her taking the letter and letting her hand loose to grab the Chunky Monkey out of the bag.

"Don't push it Huntzberger. Remember, I'm the one running the show."

"Got it," he answered, taking a seat in front of her desk and flipping open the aging envelope. "Just tell me one thing before I get started," he added on, watching her dig right into the ice cream. He probably should've brought a back-hoe for her.

"One thing."

"Do you really have a tent set up in Doyle's office?"