A/N: How can the same inanimate object trigger two different walks down memory lane? And what, exactly, makes an attire memorable in a man's mind? Is it the dress, or is it the woman wearing it?

A/N2: I'd like to thank Michaela Martin, jaed621, chili-peppers, lemmingduck, Tuffel, melissouza, zora080393, RenLissa, phantomliberty, la querida, Princess of Peas, p3karen, SallyJetson, mercy4vr, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Sessywuver, and wjobsessed for all the wonderful reviews given to the second chapter of this story. My deepest apologies for not writing personally. All cookies, chocolates and recipes accepted. Bribery, too!

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"So you basically walked out of a budget meeting to go shopping?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "So typically male", she thought.

"It wasn't just any shopping. Come one, you saw Lindsay. Do you really think she had that dress hanging in the back of her closet? That wasn't a dress, that was perfection!"

"Remind me again what colour was it"

"Oh you!" Stella slapped him not-so-playfully, "You're impossible!"

"You're asking the wrong man about that dress. Yours, however, I remember perfectly..."

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Stella Bonasera felt so giddy she was about to burst giggling. And that would probably scare Lindsay. And the last thing she needed right now, was scaring Lindsay off, not when she was about to let the young woman in one of the best kept secrets of the city.

And what a secret Stefen Van Holdestein was! Stella had met him some 10 years ago, while working on a case, and had quickly becomed hooked. Monetarily speaking, she wasn't his greatest fan, not even close, but she made sure she visited him at least once a month. She was sworn to secrecy, as well, and had only introduced another woman before Linds that day. Stella allowed herself a moment of sorrow to go alongside with the memory of Claire Taylor.

Lindsay, on the other hand, was considering if she ought to take this step or not. Although maybe "step" wasn't the right choice of word. This was more like a leap of faith. Lindsay felt that, somehow, once she had gone through those silky panels hanging behind the opened door, things would never be the same. SHE would never feel the same.

And suddendly she felt like she was 10 again. 10 years old and spending the week before Christmas with his aunt Mary in Chicago. 10 years old, and standing outside the biggest toy shop she had ever seen in her entire life. The shop was about to open, and she was standing first in line to get inside, and Aunt Mary had promised to get her anything she wanted and...

Lindsay had never been the same after that trip. The change had nothing to do with the stuffed lilac pony she ended up getting, but rather with the notion that she could have more than she had then. Maybe not just "have" but "be" more. She had realized that there was more to life than her comfy life in Montana, and somewhere deep inside, she had made up her mind: she'd someday live in a big city like Chicago.

Or New York, for that matter.

"Lindsay? You coming?"

Stella's voice seemed to snap her out of her reverie. She lifted her hand and touched the soft fabric which was hiding who knew what secrets behind it. She had a momentary flahsback, finding herself once more in front of the toy shop doors, watching the employees remove the paddles and finally opening them, and that was all it took. She had made up her mind without even noticing she had done so.

And THAT made her feel both thrilled and scared to death. But damned if she was taking a step back!

"After you , Alice."

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A/N: I know, I know. Too much character development, too little action. But rest assured, good things come to those who wait. Unless you feel introspection has no big role in this lil fic of mine? Plus, who do you think is the guy who remembers Stella dress but not Lindsay's?

A/N2: And yes, this is my shameless attempt to get reviews moving along!