May 12th, 2005

A week and a half after arriving in Tennesee, Lorelai found herself sitting at the kitchen island, phone pressed to the side of her head while she mindlessly tapped the end of her pen against the counter, her notepad sitting untouched in front of her. She was grateful the cabin had decent AC, the cool air a welcome contrast to the sweltering Tullahoma heat outside.

"Do you know for sure what you're dealing with yet, Baudelaire?" Conklin asked, his voice gravely over the poor connection. Nick had warned her before the three of them jumped on the call that Conklin was on his own thing out in some undisclosed location.

"Oh, it's definitely a werewolf," she told them. "Autopsy confirmed it if the eaten heart wasn't enough."

"Could be a skinwalker, in which case your search would be too narrow," Nick chimed in, and Lorelai rolled her eyes even though neither of the men could see her.

"It's not a skinwalker," she said flatly.

"How do you -"

"Because I have a mastery in forensics, Nick, and a first-year apprentice would be able to tell the difference in the striations their claws make on the bones."

"Oh yeah? If you're so smart then -"

"Enough, you two. Bite each other's heads off on your own time," Conklin cut in, and Lorelai dimly appreciated that he was more of a friend than a boss by then. He was well used to hers and Nick's unusual dynamic, and knew that despite the bickering they were better off working together than split up. "Lorelai, you got any leads on what type of wolf you're dealing with yet?"

"That's a little trickier. Pretty sure it's not a pureblood - the killings stopped with the lunar cycle. But I haven't been able to ID the wolf, so I'm not sure if I'm working with a Muggle or a wizard."

"What do you think it is?" Lorelai frowned, her eyes scanning her notes even though she knew there was nothing in there to help her answer the question.

"I'm not sure yet."

"But -" Conklin prodded, sensing she was holding back. Lorelai bit her bottom lip, but Nick jumped in before she could find her own words.

"But Lorelai's the only known magical presence in Tullahoma, sir, and the surrounding towns."

An uneasiness settled over the three of them as Nick's words hung in the air. There was always a chance - they weren't a military state, MACUSA didn't keep tabs on every single witch and wizard in America - but it meant she was probably dealing with a Muggle. And if they were dealing with a Muggle, there was nothing that could be done except put them down.

"Alright then, you know what to do. Keep in touch with Russo. If you want backup, we can send -"

"Please, Conks, it's a -" Lorelai interrupted with a scoff, only for Nick to quickly cut over her.

"Don't mind Lorelai, sir. I'll put in a formal request if the situation warrants it," he said, and Lorelai was pretty sure she heard Conklin sniggering on the other end.

"Alright. I'm gonna run. Russo, make sure you get me those assessments by the end of the day. I'll take a look at them tonight."

Conklin's line went dead a moment later and Lorelai stretched, throwing her pen down on the counter and leaning back in her chair.

"You're such a suck up," she heckled Nick, gathering her long, brown hair into her hand and twisting it up so the air could hit the back of her neck. Even with the AC she was sweating. Nick sighed with exasperation.

"And you're a pain in the ass. You know he's our boss, right?"

"It's Conklin, Nick. Same guy that showed up to Julia's fifth birthday with charmed unicorn balloons and got high as a kite with you and Ian after the kids went to bed. I put on the right face with Kirby."

"Hardly," he muttered, only just discernable over the phone, but Lorelai smirked. "How are things going down there for you? Climbing the walls yet?"

Lorelai faltered, happy no one was there to see her face as she processed the question. For how dull things had started, and for how little she liked being "stuck" somewhere, Lorelai found she actually felt quite content with what she had going. A certain green-eyed man with muscles for days and a killer car was probably behind that. Her cheeks flushed at memories of the last week that flowed through her mind, unbidden. She wasn't ready to talk about Dean, though.

"It's fine," she dismissed. "You know - food's crap, town's small, it's hot as hell… but it's fine. And you know the best part? No fucking reporters." Nick chuckled and Lorelai's gut churned in anticipation.

"Like that'll stop them from printing anything."

"Probably not," she agreed, "but at least they're not hounding me right now. How're things there?"

Nick made the same noise he used to when they were in school and exam schedules came out, and she knew he was stressed.

"Insane," he admitted. "DC just handed us a fresh batch of graduates for placement, we're short staffed in the forensics lab - and of course, none of the rookies have any interest or training in lab work, which would kill two birds with one stone. No-maj President Bush is asking for aid in his War on Terror and we're having trouble explaining to him that we don't have an army and that, even if we did, we have our own politics to contend with. Oh! And Brooks is angling to partner up with you again so -"

Without meaning to, Lorelai let out a loud groan, dropping her hair in favor of pinching the bridge of her nose.

"No," she said flatly.

"Lorelai, would you -"

"I'm serious, Nick. I swear to Merlin, if you put me with that prick again I'll kill him. Life in Tyranmac's worth it."

"Would you quit being overdramatic and trust me for half a second? I mean, really Lorelai, it's me. I know better, promise."

She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, letting some of the tension leave her body. Old wounds and all that.

"Yeah, alright. I wasn't really asking about work, anyway. How's everything back home?" Nick scoffed, and Lorelai knew immediately where the conversation was headed.

"If you want to know how things are back home you might try visiting. You know Katie comes home in a little over a week and -"

Lorelai took another deep breath, though this one was to keep her anger from flaring again. Her grip on the phone tightened reflexively.

"Nick," she warned. He fell silent, but she knew he was just as steely on the other end.

"Lorelai." They were both quiet, before Lorelai let her hand fall from her nose, hitting the counter with a thud.

"For fuck's sake, Nick," she finally snapped, "I don't have time to do this song and dance every goddamn time I'm on assignment." Nick huffed, but seemed to realize he'd pushed her past where it needed to go and coughed, his voice shifting back down when he spoke.

"We're good, Lorelai. Julia misses you and is excited for Katie to come home. She got in trouble with the teacher for teaching some kids how to play Blackjack at recess - thanks for that, by the way - but she got an A+ on her math test. I went out with Olivia and Ian the other night, they seem good, and Ian and I are grabbing beers tonight when I'm done work. Liv also said to tell you she was right, and that you looked stunning in the photos from the Ministry Ball. Her words - not mine."

Lorelai frowned and mindlessly spun the stool she was sitting on, closing her eyes as she moved.

"How the hell did she see photos? I haven't even seen them yet." Nick sighed again, this time sounding tired, the way he usually did after they fought.

"Check your mail," he said. "The Ghost picked them up from the Prophet earlier this week. You rated first page."

"Awesome," Lorelai muttered sarcastically, making a mental note to drop by the post office.

They got off the phone shortly after that and Lorelai moved over to the couch, collapsing over the arm, the cushions swallowing her frame while she stared up at the ceiling fan's lazy rotation. The cabin was quiet, the kind of silence that seemed to amplify the slightest noise, and even her own heartbeat sounded too loud.

Her gaze landed on the vase by the door, where the wildflowers from Dean stood defiantly vibrant against the dullness of the rest of the room. She was torn between smiling like a schoolgirl and letting out another groan.

It had been a long time since Lorelai had seen anyone with any level of regularity. Vlad had been her last relationship, and - embarrassingly - Eldon Holt and Taylor Haywood had been her last regular hookups, all of which had been before the accident. It had been easier, after that, to find a way to be fine and not good. Fine was safe, and fine kept her from being stupid. Searching for happy had only ever fucked her up.

Still, Dean Winchester, she was loathe to admit it, had been making her happy. The last time she'd felt so ready to swoon over a guy she'd been a teenager, and the guy had been Fred Weasley. He'd gotten her flowers, and swept her off her feet, and made her feel very un-Lorelai-like feelings too. Of course, that felt like a lifetime ago anymore…

It was dinner time as Lorelai approached the side of the castle by the lake, a familiar tall redhead stepping out from behind one of the trees. He was dressed in Muggle clothing – a pair of dark jeans she recognized as one of his nicer pairs and a deep blue button-down shirt that complimented his coloring nicely. He had his left hand in his pocket and his right was hidden subtly behind his back. Lorelai's breath hitched when she saw him, and she mentally frowned at herself. The way that Fred Weasley was always able to have such an effect on her was beyond ridiculous.

He smiled charmingly as she neared, the same smile that did her in all the time, the smile that she couldn't resist, and he took a few steps closer to her. Lorelai tried not to fidget too much while she flashed her own grin, furiously reminding herself not to let her smile look too over the top, because she was pretty sure that if she didn't control her face carefully, she was going to end up looking like a cross between the Cheshire Cat and a lovesick puppy.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Lorelai Baudelaire, in a dress, and skipping out on a meal? Must be some occasion," he teased quietly. Lorelai raised her eyebrows and came to a stop in front of him. Not only did he look wonderful, his bright eyes locking with hers and that grin still on his face, his freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks, but he smelled intoxicating as well. Lorelai forced herself to keep her breathing even. Now was not the time to lose her self-control.

"Must be – although I could say the same to you. Someone's certainly spent some time cleaning up. When I saw you earlier you were covered in a rather unattractive layer of green and orange slime, and it was omitting some pretty concerning odors." Fred winked at her.

"Well you see, I'm meeting this rather special girl tonight. It's a first date, and I seem to remember my best friend going on and on about how us blokes don't put in any effort anymore and if we really like a bird we should make sure to… well she used some Muggle expression I don't remember but she made her point. She's pretty smart too, so I took her advice. Can't have this girl thinking I'm not taking her seriously." He said it all so lightly – genuinely, but very off the cuff. The look in his eyes betrayed him though, and Lorelai couldn't help but be taken aback. Her smile softened, and she reached out to slip her hand into his. It was a conversation they'd had ages ago, probably at the beginning of the school year. She'd been venting after Olivia had set her up with a guy from her potions class, and Lorelai hadn't even realized Fred was paying attention.

"That's some lucky girl then. Funny, I've got this date tonight too but I'm not sure where he is–" Lorelai pretended to look around for a moment while taking the remaining few steps forward to really close the space between them, and then smiled. "Ah, and it appears I've found him. Almost didn't recognize you without that slime, Freddie."

She could feel his breath on her face, they were so close, and so, pulling confidence she didn't know she had out of her ass, she popped up on her toes and captured his lips in a kiss. It clearly caught him by surprise; he let go over her hand and immediately brought it to the small of her back instead, steadying her against him, but he kissed her back. Lorelai's now free hand came up to rest on his shoulder as she tilted her head more into the kiss. As always, he took her breath away. His lips were soft, and pleasantly moist, and he tasted like peppermint and a bit of chocolate. Their lips moved against each other in a natural rhythm, and Lorelai was reluctant to break apart but nonetheless fell back down to her own height, now looking at him through slightly more hooded lids.

"You look bloody gorgeous, Lorelai," Fred told her sounding huskier than he had a moment ago. The grin fought to return to Lorelai's face, and she twirled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. She did wish he would cut it, but she still loved to run her fingers through his locks.

"You don't look too bad yourself." Fred took a step back from her, grabbing her hand again, and finally revealing his right hand from behind his back.

"For you, m'lady," he said overdramatically, in a way that only Fred could pull off, but Lorelai was suddenly speechless. He had gotten her flowers – no one had ever gotten her flowers. They weren't just flowers either, Lorelai could see he had made sure her favorites were in there. It was a beautiful arrangement with many types of plants she didn't know off the top of her head – a lot seemed to be magical, a few seemed to be changing colors, others were glittering, but mixed in there were a few red roses, white alstromeria, and a few twigs of the greens she liked that were the circular leaves. They were perfect, and Lorelai looked up at the older boy with her mouth hanging open. Fred, she noticed, looked a little nervous despite the bravado he put on, and she squeezed the hand that was holding hers.

"Fred, they're gorgeous, you didn't have to," she said softly. His nerves seemed to dissipate, and he smiled down at her gently.

"I told you, Lor" he said, his tone matching her, "You're rather special and so is tonight. I want you to know what you mean to me." Lorelai reached out her free hand to take the flowers from Fred, and he let her other hand go so that she could use both of them. Her eyes were caught on them, and she breathed in, feeling stunned and enjoying the floral scent that wafted towards her nose. Upon exhaling, she looked back to Fred and craned up to kiss him again. It was much easier in her heels and Lorelai wondered if she should wear them more often. This kiss was quick, but she hoped it conveyed that she felt the same way towards him. Fred seemed happy, and quite pleased with himself when they broke apart.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anything for you, love." Lorelai couldn't help the grin that spread over her face. Fred still seemed slightly smug, but Lorelai found it endearing. It had taken so long for them to get here, she had really thought it was never going to happen, and now that it was it felt so surreal in the best possible way.

Forcing herself out of her reverie, Lorelai shook her head and shifted, trying to ignore the unexpected and unwelcome pang of nostalgia. Just because Dean was only the second person to ever get her flowers didn't mean anything, and just because he was the only other person that called her Lor didn't make him special either. She had no business comparing the two men. It was true she hadn't felt like this about anyone else, but it had been a fucking week, and nothing lasting could happen between her and Dean anyway. Dating a Muggle with the job she had and the life she led would be entirely too complicated, and she had enough baggage that complicated was too much to consider.

Her phone, of course, buzzed a moment later, and Lorelai had to laugh at the fact that it was a text message from Dean.

Still on for tonight?

Sighing, she typed a quick message back.

Yep, but it's my turn to pick what we do. Get ready

His reply came through only a minute later, making her smile.

Can't wait. See you at 6.

It wasn't going anywhere, but she could still have fun. Nick would probably disagree with her, but fun wasn't anything to get upset about.

The hum of the evening had settled over Tullahoma as Lorelai watched Dean's car pull up to her place, its headlights cutting through the dimming light. She smoothed down her shirt, a gesture more for composure than for appearance.

"Hey there, Lor." Dean greeted her with that easy grin she'd come to anticipate, his voice warm in the cool twilight.

"Dean," she replied, stepping out and feeling an instant jolt when Dean wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into a short, sweet kiss that set off a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He smelled like leather and something woodsy, a comforting scent that was quickly becoming familiar.

"So what's this big plan you've got for tonight?" he asked, his smile teasing, eyes bright with curiosity.

"I'm not telling you," she laughed, locking her door behind her with a decisive click. Without waiting, she began walking towards the Impala. Dean watched her go for a moment, confusion marring his features, before he followed after.

"And how exactly am I supposed to drive us wherever it is we're going if I don't know where that is?"

"I'll direct you," she told him brightly, smiling over her shoulder. He caught up to her then and chuckled while he reached around her for the passenger door, his confusion evident but his trust unwavering.

"You're something else, Baudelaire," he told her with a shake of his head. Lorelai beamed back and kissed him again before sliding onto the bench seat.

"Oh I know."

Dean walked around the front of the car and climbed in on the driver's side, while Lorelai fought down her smile. He took direction well on the short drive, not pushing her for any more information and only joking once about the fact that she could be bringing him to a crack-house for all he knew. When the lights of the course came into view, Dean realized immediately what she'd planned.

"Mini golf?" Dean's voice was laced with surprise as he parked the car. The neon sign overhead buzzed quietly, casting playful shadows across the lot.

"Too cheesy?" she asked, a flicker of doubt crossing her mind as she watched his reaction.

"Are you kidding? It's perfect," he said, his delight genuine. His eagerness was contagious, and she found herself grinning widely as they stepped out of the car. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time with a touch of gratitude that sent warmth flooding through her.

"Wait here. Clubs and balls, coming right up," he said with a boyish excitement that made her heart skip and laughter bubble out of her mouth. Lorelai followed behind, pushing him out of the way when he tried to pay, reminding him it was her turn to take care of the date.

Half an hour later, Lorelai's swing sent the neon ball zipping past the clown's gaping mouth, ricocheting off the fiberglass obstacle with a sound akin to a miniature sonic boom. Dean's laughter mingled with the whimsical plinks and jingles of the mini-golf course, creating an oddly harmonious soundtrack to her floundering attempts at the game.

"Okay, I think you're set for the PGA tour," he joked, stepping behind her to adjust her stance. "Just ease up on the power. Pretend it's... I don't know, an egg or something."

"An egg wouldn't stand a chance with me," Lorelai snorted, appreciating the closeness as his hands guided hers into a gentler position. She took a breath, trying to control her strength, but once more, the ball shot off like it was fleeing for its life.

"Jeez, you weren't kidding about being awful at this," Dean said with an affectionate shake of his head as they walked to where her ball had finally come to rest—several courses away.

"No, I wasn't," she laughed.

"You've got a damn good arm at least," he pointed out. "Maybe just not for mini golf."

"I was always better at softball. My brother, Mark, used to say I was too aggressive for mini golf," she admitted, her cheeks flushing lightly in embarrassment. "Nolan flat out said I've just got too much anger."

Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically, glancing at her sideways while he got ready to take his own shot. "You're a little feisty, but you don't strike me as someone with an anger problem."

Lorelai bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the artificial turf as memories of her days with Jack and the war flickered in her mind.

"Everyone's got their issues," she shrugged. "I try to keep that one in check."

Dean still looked skeptical, but he didn't push it and instead took his shot - his going much smoother than Lorelai's had and landing near the hole. He stepped out of the way for her with a dramatic gesture that made her laugh, but he was ducking a minute later when her ball rocketed off in the wrong direction.

They continued through the course, with Dean scoring with a casual expertise and Lorelai's scores resembling phone numbers. But the laughter never ceased, the evening air filled with their playful banter and shared smiles.

By the time they finished, the night had deepened, the stars above them twinkling like distant spectators to their amusement. Dean had won handily, but the score seemed inconsequential compared to the lightness in Lorelai's chest.

"Come on, winner gets to treat the loser to ice cream," she said, nudging him toward the parking lot.

"Is that how it works?" Dean chuckled as they approached the Impala, the car's chrome catching the moonlight.

"Absolutely," she insisted. Dean didn't argue and instead drove them towards a stand they had passed earlier. A few minutes later they were each sliding onto the hood of the Impala, a cone of soft serve in hand, their shoulders brushing.

Under the inky sky, Lorelai found herself caught up in the magnetic pull Dean seemed to have once again. The way his lips wrapped around the top of the ice cream, his tongue darting out to lick at the sides, had her imagining other things he could be doing with his mouth, and the spark in his eyes was contagious. She felt so light, and she dimly wondered if this was what she was supposed to feel like at her age.

"Good choice on the chocolate," he commented, his low voice breaking into her reverie.

Her answer was a mere nod, the words lodged somewhere between her heartbeats. There, on the hood of his car, with the quiet hum of the night wrapping around them, Lorelai acknowledged the precarious edge she teetered on. And as frightening as the height was, for now, she couldn't help but savor the view.