Author's Note: Well, it only took me 6 years to get back to this series. That's the moral. Never say never. I have been rediscovering my love of Gilmore Girls and I am super excited to be back in the world of Richard and Emily. Hopefully there will be more soon.

Cheek to Cheek

"Yes, Lynnie, I'll call you tomorrow…yes, alright…goodbye." Richard hung up the phone with a relieved sigh. He was in a rotten mood and Pennilyn Lott was not the person on whom he could take it out.

Pennilyn was lovely and sweet and perfect in every way. Calm and gentle. But she was often so perfect and demure that Richard felt uncomfortable displaying any strong emotion around her, positive or negative. He'd made the mistake when they were about seventeen of eagerly telling her about a book he had read and she had responded by simply saying, "That sounds nice, Richard." He was immediately dismissed for his enthusiasm by Pennilyn just as he so often was by his mother, though their reactions were quite different. It made him wonder at times if his father had been effusive in any way and that's where Richard inherited that trait. Trix certainly never was, but Richard had been so young when his father died that he couldn't remember him much.

But Richard wasn't feeling very eager today. He had a party to attend with some friends and he had hoped that Pennilyn might come, but she didn't want to leave Sarah Lawrence for the weekend. Some event or other was happening at her campus that prevented her from taking the train up to New Haven. He was already missing her and now he was even more bothered by being prevented from seeing her. If she had invited him to visit her at Sarah Lawrence, he might have decided to skip the party tonight and go see her, even if he did have a paper for his medieval history class due on Monday. But she hadn't asked. And he hadn't offered.

"Richard, we're going to be late if you don't get dressed and ready soon. Your hair looks like a nice nesting place for a spotted owl," Raymond teased, poking his head into the doorway.

"Yes, alright," Richard answered glumly.

Raymond laughed, "Cheer up, old sport! I hear the Smith girls are coming to the party tonight."

The thought was intriguing. After all, he and Pennilyn had an arrangement. They were free to socialize with others, go out on dates and have the fun of being young people in college, but nothing serious could ever happen. He and Pennilyn were engaged to be married. Or rather, they would be engaged to be married. Trix had worked it all out with Pennilyn's parents that Richard would propose at Christmas, they would be married in the summer after graduation next summer, they would go on their honeymoon, and Richard would go to work for Mr. Lott at the accounting firm.

His life was laid out before him, whether he liked it or not, so he didn't bother thinking about whether or not he did in fact like it. So why not flirt with some girls from another school tonight just for fun?

"I swear to god, that drive feels longer every time we do it," Emily Ashford complained as Sweetie finally parked the car at Yale.

"Oh Emily, ever since you got back from that trip to Europe, you're such a pill about these things," Eunice Pierpont laughed. "Just because we all don't run with the precision of Swiss railways…"

"Oh stop, I am not a pill about these things. I just think that Sweetie drives a bit too cautiously," Emily fired back good-naturedly.

"It's only because I have my dear friends in the car, Emily," Sweetie pointed out. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Emily smiled. That's why everyone called her Sweetie. She was the kindest, loveliest person in the world. And the fact that her kindness didn't drive Emily crazy was a testament to her earnestness. Emily had been living with Sweetie for the last three years, ever since they were put together as roommates in the freshman dorm. And now they had a house they shared with three of their other friends, including Eunice and Audrey.

It was the help of these lovely friends that Emily had been able to muster up the courage to go to Europe all by herself over the summer. She told her parents she would be going with Audrey's family and the Ashfords, who were never ones to bother much with Emily's life so long as she was doing what they thought she was supposed to, had allowed her to take a taxi to the airport to meet the Michelsons. Little did they know that Emily had taken the money from her father to pay her share to the Michelsons and instead toured France and Italy and Switzerland and Austria and Germany all by herself for three weeks. It had been heavenly. And it had shown her that she could do anything for herself that she put her mind to. When she wanted something, there was nothing stopping her from getting it.

And yes, perhaps she had gotten used to the precision of the Swiss, but she had also adored the relaxed atmosphere of the Romans and the indulgence of the Parisians. If she hadn't run out of money, she might have never left.

But now she was back at her beloved college with her wonderful friends, and all she could think was how lucky she was to be free and happy.

"Come on, I'm sure we're late," Audrey beckoned to the other three. Her boyfriend lived in the fraternity house where the party was being hosted tonight, so she was quite insistent on getting there without any further delay.

Emily and Sweetie linked arms and walked and giggled after Audrey. They were all going to have fun tonight.

"Who do you think will be there tonight?" Eunice asked, jogging slightly to keep up with their pace.

"Probably the usual Yale crowd. I miss the old crowd, though," Emily lamented. "Ever since Nigel graduated, these parties are a lot rowdier."

"Well, I think that might have just been because Nigel was looking out for me as his little sister. I think he would have just up and died if he caught any of his fellow Yalies kissing me at a party," Sweetie said.

"Then it's a good think he never caught you with Harold Nelson," Emily giggled. Sweetie had been denying it for over a year now, but Emily could see clear as day that Sweetie was absolutely head over heels for the boy who had been courting her ever since they were freshmen. If Sweetie could ever actually believe that a football player and mathematics prize winner was actually interested in her with her small stature and her dark, curly hair, Emily was sure there would be wedding bells.

"I hope Raymond and Richard and Philip are there," Eunice interjected dreamily.

Emily frowned. "What's so special about them?" She knew who Eunice was talking about, of course. They were part of the usual Yale crowd. Those boys were seniors now, if Emily recalled correctly. So at least they'd be gone after this year. She found those three, along with their slightly less attractive friend, Donald, to be far too full of themselves. She was fairly certain that they had a pool going over who could dance with the most girls in a night. Or perhaps it was about doing more than dancing.

"Oh I just think they're keen," Eunice answered, blushing.

Well, Eunice would. She was blonde and beautiful but rather flighty at times. Ditzy, perhaps one might call her. Emily often didn't mind her when she was able to properly focus on the conversation, but that wasn't always the case.

"I mean," Eunice continued, "Philip Pennington is more handsome than Tab Hunter. And Raymond always makes everyone laugh. Everyone likes being around him. And he's got those green eyes. And…"

"And Richard is just tall," Sweetie cut in.

Emily laughed at that. "Richard…Gilmore, right?"

Sweetie nodded. "He's a Hartford Gilmore. His mother practically runs the entire society there. And they all come to Yale. My mother once had to go to a DAR meeting there, and she said Mrs. Gilmore is the most intimidating woman she's ever seen."

"I wonder if Richard took after her. He doesn't seem intimidating. Just tall," Emily mused. "But of course, I've never actually met him officially."

"How is that possible?" Audrey asked, finally turning around to join the conversation. "He's at every party, and he's in the Whiffenpoofs with my Alfie."

Emily shrugged. "I haven't met Philip Pennington either. What do I need with slicksters like them?"

"Our picky Emily is going to graduate top of our class and probably end up the next Eleanor Roosevelt with better styling," Sweetie proclaimed. "No one less than the next FDR will be good enough for her."

Audrey giggled and added, "You're much too sweet, Sweetie. Emily is more likely to be Lady Macbeth."

"You're both being ridiculous," Emily said, but she was secretly delighted by their characterizations. Eleanor Roosevelt or Lady Macbeth…either way, her friends could see that she would end up someone important and powerful. Which was all she ever wanted.

"Raymond, Philip, why is it that the three of us are sitting here drinking together instead of chatting up some nice young ladies?" Richard asked speaking over the din of the band and the party chatter. "I thought you said the Smith girls were coming down for the party?"

Philip craned his neck and then exclaimed, "Ah, yes, they're already here. Alfie's got his tongue down Audrey O'Donnell's throat already."

Richard glowered at him. "An unnecessary image, thank you."

"I say we find her friends and offer them some drinks," Raymond suggested. "I'll make the rounds."

Raymond was off like a shot, leaving Philip to chuckle after him. Richard, however, was not as enthused. "I might head back home, actually," he thought aloud.

"Give it twenty more minutes, Richard," Philip suggested. "If you aren't having a good time, then by all means go home. But give it a little more time. See? Raymond found the Smith girls."

Richard followed where Philip was pointing to where Raymond had his back to them and was surrounded by a ring of pretty girls. One was short with curly black hair. One was very tall with brown hair teased up into a bouffant that made her somehow even taller. And one was somewhere between short and tall with perfectly coifed auburn hair that shined in the dim light of the party. Richard frowned. "I don't think I know any of them."

"The tall one is Eunice Pierpont and Raymond better keep his hands off her," Philip growled.

That caught Richard by surprise. The tall one looked to him like a skinny, frigid kind of girl. But perhaps a kinder term might be willowy. Philip would probably describe her that way if he was as interested in her as that comment made him sound. "And the others?" he pressed.

"Short one is Sweetie Martin, and Harold is sweet on her, pardon the pun. And the redhead is Emily Ashford. Robert Grant went out with her for a while when she was a freshman. Last I heard about her, she broke Harlan Watson's heart."

"He's up at Harvard, isn't he?"

Philip nodded. "His parents are friends with mine. I saw him over the summer, actually, and he said most of the Harvard Business School had tried to tame wild Emily."

"You make her sound like an exotic horse," Richard chuckled.

"Maybe the comparison is apt," Philip replied with a shrug.

"Hmm," Richard hummed to himself, thinking. She really was quite beautiful, that fiery redhead. Perhaps she was untamable. But oh, wouldn't it be fun to try?

He stood up and made his way to where Raymond was entertaining the ladies. He walked right up to Emily Ashford without a single glance to anyone else.

"Pardon me, would you like to dance?" he asked, offering his hand.

Emily looked him up and down appraisingly and concluded her examination by looking up into his eyes.

Richard felt like he got the wind knocked out of him when their eyes met like that. She had dark, shining eyes. Big and beautiful. He wanted to fall into her eyes and bask in that mysterious depth for hours.

"Alright," she eventually answered. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her over to the dancefloor.

They took a traditional dance hold, and Richard realized very quickly that Emily Ashford was a very good dancer. He was leading, but she was following expertly. He tried a spin, and she turned and came back into his arms perfectly. He tried some fancier steps—after all, he quite enjoyed dancing and liked to do so quite a bit—and she was right there with him. He'd barely spoken two words to this girl and yet they were in perfect sync. He'd never danced like this with a stranger. How very interesting.

The song ended, and they broke apart to applaud the band. They started up again with a ballad. An old Irving Berlin song.

Richard turned back to his dance partner. "Shall we?"

She smiled up at him. "We shall."

He took her back in his arms, this time chancing a little closer hold. The way she had smiled at him had caused his stomach to tie in knots, and as much as Richard had enjoyed looking at her, it might be easier to keep his concentration while dancing if she weren't in his eyeline.

Before he knew it, he was leaning in to do as the song said, and they were dancing cheek to cheek. Her hair was soft where it barely touched his neck, and she smelled divine. She moved against him in their dance as though every gesture his body made was completed by hers.

"You're a very good dancer," he murmured in her ear.

"So are you," she replied. "I've hardly met anyone as graceful, particularly so tall and light on your feet."

He had the strange sensation that he was being teased and complimented at the same time, and he didn't quite mind it.

The song ended far too quickly, and they had to pull apart again to applaud. The band then announced they were taking a break.

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered.

"No, I'm afraid we'll have to be going soon. It's more than an hour back up to Smith and I have to work on a history paper tomorrow," she replied.

"Oh so do I," Richard realized, amused at the coincidence. "What class is yours for?"

"American Revolution. Yours?"

"Medieval Europe."

"Ah well. Enjoy your castles and plague."

Richard chuckled at that. "Enjoy your muskets and powdered wigs."

"I will, thank you," Emily said with a smirk.

He hesitated for a moment before blurting, "I'd like to see you again."

She gazed up at him again, the mystery in those shining dark eyes casting another spell on him. "I'd like that," she replied. "I can give you my number if you'd like to give me a call sometime."

"Yes, I would." Richard scrambled slightly and found a receipt from the liquor store in his pocket and a pen in his jacket.

Emily wrote down her phone number on the receipt before handing everything back to him. "Thank you for the dances, Richard."

"It was my pleasure, Emily."

He watched as she walked away to find her friends. It wasn't until later that he realized they hadn't actually properly introduced themselves. Strangely, it didn't seem to matter.