June 15th, 2005
Growing up had not been an easy time for Lorelai Baudelaire.
She'd been the almost-youngest of six (she always considered herself almost because she was only an hour older than Emily), she'd watched her oldest brother die before she was old enough to reach grade school, her mother about six months later, and when her father turned to drinking and using her as his whipping post to deal with his grief, Lorelai had figured out pretty quickly that the only way she was going to survive was if she toughened the hell up, and fast.
Most of the time, that had worked for her. No one picked on her at school before she went to Lytton, even though some of the Muggles thought her family was weird. She found good friends in Nick, and then Ian when his family had moved into the neighborhood, and she got along well with her brothers. They still looked out for her, but they'd never babied her the way they'd had to Mary or Emily. She'd learned independence from a young age, and the ability to come off as confident even when she felt about two inches tall. Later, when she was older and unwittingly found herself in the middle of a war, that toughness had served her well then too.
It came with costs, though. She often didn't know where to draw the line. She was "fearless" to a fault, even if it was mostly a front. Her mouth regularly got her into trouble, and she struggled to recognize boundaries. Parents had never been the biggest fans of their kids hanging out with her – with the exception of the Russos and the McNamaras. And her inability to healthily process or deal with her emotions had only become more crippling the older she got. The biggest cost when she'd been a kid, however, had been her inability to fit in with the other girls.
Little girls were supposed to be sugar, spice, and everything nice. Lorelai had heard more than once that she was too much spice.
Then she'd gone to Lytton, and Nick and Ian had accidentally pushed her into the bay, and a girl with dirty blonde hair and a manicure had fished her out.
Olivia Sweeney was not the image Lorelai Baudelaire had in her mind of a best friend, but she'd quickly become Lorelai's. They were as different as they were similar: Both of them came from wealthy families and lived in New York City. Lorelai hated high society life, and Olivia felt lost away from it. They'd both lost their mothers at a young age. It had destroyed Lorelai's relationship with her father while Olivia was the biggest daddy's girl Lorelai had ever met. They were both extremes. Olivia enjoyed every stereotypical girly thing Lorelai could think of while Lorelai had been the definition of a tomboy. Olivia was an only child and wished she had siblings. Lorelai was from a big family and often wished she weren't. They were both assigned to the same first-year dorm room and had spent the first few weeks of school feeling lost – Olivia because she was the only Muggleborn in the group, and Lorelai because of the aforementioned spice.
They'd become inseparable immediately, and over time had rubbed off on one another. Fifteen years later, Lorelai couldn't imagine life without the other girl. Even when she was driving Lorelai nuts.
"Ooo, Lorelai! What about this one?"
It was Wednesday, and Lorelai had met up with Olivia for a late lunch after spending her morning in court giving testimony for the monster-fighting-ring bust from March. It would have felt less like a waste of time if the asshole that had jinxed her in the melee hadn't been able to strike a plea bargain, but they'd still gotten the worst of the offenders full sentences.
At Olivia's squeal, Lorelai glanced up, her stomach rumbling as she took in the satin, midnight blue camisole her friend was clutching. It had a plunging neckline, with lace detailing around the chest.
"For you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. The way Olivia's eyes were sparkling usually meant trouble for her, and sure enough, Olivia quickly rolled them.
"For you, mopey. It's perfect! The color will bring out your eyes and you look so pretty in blue." Olivia tried to hold it up to Lorelai's chest, but Lorelai quickly pushed the hand away.
"Liv, I chase after dark wizards and monsters for a living. Where the hell do you think I'm wearing something like that?" Olivia sighed dramatically but replaced the hanger on the rack and continued sifting through the other items.
"You're no fun. So you don't need it, but you go out plenty. You could live a little."
"I've already got going out clothes," Lorelai pointed out, and the shake of Olivia's head would have let her know her friend's opinion if she weren't already aware of it.
"Yes, I know. Very rock-and-roll, you'd fit right in with Ian's band."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Didn't mean it as one."
"Yeah, yeah. Can we get lunch now? I'm starving."
Lorelai could tell from the look on Olivia's face she'd been about to push back, but her expression immediately shifted to apologetic when Lorelai lifted her wrist and Olivia saw the time on her watch.
"Shit, sorry. Yeah. Can we come back?"
"I'm sure we will," Lorelai sighed, managing to sound both exasperated and relieved at the same time as they backtracked to the exit of the boutique.
"Ahh you're just grumpy because you haven't eaten yet. By the time we're done lunch you'll be begging me to come back."
It was bright outside, the sun beating down on them in full force, but a breeze swept through the city streets that kept the heat from being sweltering. Lorelai pulled the sunglasses down from the top of her head and followed Olivia towards the corner.
"I wouldn't hold your breath," she laughed, but Olivia flashed her a big smile, eyes bright, before she fished out her own sunglasses.
"Oh I would. That shirt's made for you. I bet Dean would love it."
At the mention of Dean, Lorelai felt her cheeks flush, and she shook her head, the corners of her mouth turning down into a frown.
"Told you, Liv, I'm not seeing him. It was fun while we were both stuck in town, but now it's over. That's all there is to it."
"Mm hmm," Olivia hummed. "And Chris Brooks was too close with your family, Fred was just a friend damn it, and Vlad was just a pretty face and a good time."
"Hey, I wasn't wrong about any of that," Lorelai protested, and Olivia scoffed.
"You dated Chris and Vlad each for months, and you married Fred."
"Yeah, well, when I said he was just a friend he was."
"Oh sweetie, you and Fred were never just friends, you were just too oblivious to realize it."
"I stand by my comments on Brooks and Vlad." Olivia sighed and shook her head but dropped it just as they turned a corner to head down the side street.
A few minutes later they were sliding into chairs at an outdoor table of a small Italian bistro, shaded by a colorful umbrella. The chatter around them was lively, with people enjoying their midday reprieve. Lorelai's hunger was nearing a painful point, with the smells now surrounding them only heightening it, and she eagerly scanned the menu struggling with her desire to order everything.
"So what else do you have going on this week?" Olivia asked after they put in their orders. Lorelai shrugged and leaned back in her chair, stretching and happy to be off her feet.
"Light schedule. Nick thought the trial was going to take longer and blocked off my calendar. Katie's visiting a friend from school this week, and then her friend's crashing with us next week. How about you?"
"Back to the hospital tomorrow, but I'm done with my night shift rotation at least." Lorelai smiled and drank some of her water. While Lorelai had gone onto fight all the evil things she could find, Olivia had grown up to fight pain and suffering by becoming a Healer. It had been an… unexpected career choice, but it had suited Olivia surprisingly well in the end. Lorelai had come to think of it as an added bonus that Olivia was often willing to jump in and consult with her on case files when Lorelai didn't want to work with the forensic techs.
"I'll bet you're happy about that." Olivia nodded empathetically.
"Very. And Friday night Ian says he's got a surprise."
"That's right, you guys have an anniversary coming up, don't you?"
"Four years this weekend!" Lorelai tried not to think about where she'd been four years ago and was relieved when the waiter came over with their food. Her stomach growled in anticipation as she eyed the steaming plate of chicken parm in front of her.
"That's great, Liv! I'm so happy for you guys. Any idea what he's planning?" Olivia shrugged, chewing quickly.
"My best guess? Weekend away. I saw some brochures for a bed and breakfast up in New England on his nightstand a week or two ago. Not exactly somewhere he's gonna book for the band."
"No, I wouldn't think so," Lorelai smirked, trying to picture Ian and his bandmates in a bed and breakfast. "Think there's any chance he'll pop the question soon?" She watched Olivia make a face as she stabbed at the salad with her fork and shook her head.
"I don't know. It's not like it hasn't come up, you know? And it's not like I don't think he's in it for the long haul… but something's holding him back. It's almost like he's waiting for something, but I've got no clue what it is."
Their conversation drifted then to lighter topics as they enjoyed their meal. Lorelai's chicken parm was crispy on the outside and tender within, perfectly complemented by the tangy marinara and molten mozzarella cheese that stretched delightfully with each forkful. Olivia had opted for a lighter salad, vibrant with fresh greens, cherry tomatoes, and a dazzling vinaigrette that she claimed could make even the dullest lettuce exciting - though Lorelai remained thoroughly unconvinced on that point.
As they ate, Olivia filled Lorelai in on her latest cases at St. Fern's, including a particularly tricky curse that had taken her a few days to unravel. Lorelai listened intently, storing the information away in case she needed it later while her eyes occasionally flickered around the dining area. In turn, she told Olivia about her morning in court and, when Olivia pressed, about what was next for her with the promotion.
"There's a board reviewing all of my old case files," she explained. "If that goes well, I'll be pulled in for some evaluations and interviews. It's not a big deal though, Liv, really."
"Nick says it is," Olivia disagreed. "He says it's a really big deal that they're considering you even though you've only been there for two years. Apparently, it usually takes longer."
"Something tells me the term war hero and my last name gave me an unfair advantage." Olivia scoffed and shook her head.
"That's a load of crap. Probably has more to do with the fact that you're a workaholic and a freaking genius to boot." Lorelai rolled her eyes and grumbled a bit more, but Olivia ignored her as she usually did.
Dessert was a begrudgingly shared affair due to Olivia's insistence that she couldn't possibly have that many calories and Lorelai's desire to avoid the usual lecture about how unhealthy her own diet was. They shared a large slice of chocolate cheesecake, drizzled with raspberry coulis and whipped cream on the side. Olivia had about four bites and Lorelai unapologetically devoured the rest, making sure to enjoy the glass of champagne Olivia had ordered each of them as well. It was as they were asking for the bill that Lorelai felt her phone buzz, her heart rate picking up a bit when she saw it was Dean.
What makes the air go cold, can go through walls, and leaves behind ectoplasm?
Since their phone call, they'd traded a few texts. It had started with Dean sending her a picture of a half-eaten pizza, with the accompanying message Officially worse than Pete's. Lorelai had wrestled with herself for a day and a half before sending him a picture of her favorite pizza place while she was walking around the city, pointing out that nothing could beat New York and he was missing out.
Hunting a vengeful spirit?
She thought she'd been subtle, and looked back up, already reaching into her bag to grab out money for her portion, but Olivia knew her too well and was staring at her knowingly.
"What?" Lorelai asked, but Olivia's face only became more imperious.
"Nothing, nothing. Was that Dean?" Lorelai's mouth fell slightly open, but Olivia continued before she could ask the question. "Only explanation for that stupid smile on your face."
Lorelai huffed but nodded and dropped her cash onto the table.
"It's Dean."
"What did he –" But Lorelai's phone buzzed again before Olivia could finish asking the question, and she immediately grabbed for it, wrapping her hands around the plastic seconds before Lorelai could.
"Olivia!" For all the good her exclamation did her though, Lorelai could have saved her breath. Olivia smiled wickedly and slid her chair back, making sure she was out of reach when Lorelai tried to reach across the table.
"Grab your stuff, we're going back to that boutique."
"Oh, no, now come on. What are you doing? This isn't funny, Olivia, we're not kids anymore."
Olivia continued to ignore her, only meeting her eye again when she pushed the phone back into Lorelai's hands a minute or so later and reached for her own bag.
"Intervening for your own good because I'm your best friend and that's what I do. You'll thank me for it later. Now come on!" Sighing, Lorelai looked down to the screen Olivia had left open, where she was able to read Dean's message, and the response Olivia had sent as her behind it.
Bingo. You know, I'm only up in Providence. Could use the backup if you're available. Flying solo on this one.
I'm down. Send me the address.
Lorelai looked up at Olivia, but she was already standing up and pushing her chair in. When Lorelai was taking too long to follow suit, Olivia grabbed her bag too and reached for her hand, tugging when she did. Lorelai rolled her eyes but pushed to her feet, shaking her head all the while. Olivia Sweeney could be an absolute nuisance, but Lorelai didn't know what she'd do without her.
It was dark by the time she got to Providence, and it had taken some irritatingly convoluted effort to avoid arousing any suspicions from Dean, but when Lorelai slipped out the door of the train station into the night, the familiar '67 Impala caught her eye immediately, and it was hard to ignore the giddy feeling threatening to take hold when she noticed its owner climbing out the driver's side. It had been just shy of three weeks since they'd parted ways, and as Dean's lips met hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her and the woodsy, leather smell she'd come to associate with him ensnaring her senses, Lorelai wondered how she'd managed. More importantly, she wondered how she was going to be able to walk away again and why she'd let Olivia push her into this in the first place.
For a moment, though, the world fell away, and Lorelai could pretend she was just a girl meeting up with a guy that made her heart beat faster and butterflies swarm her stomach. Dean slipped his hands into her back pockets and leaned back against the side of the Impala, and Lorelai slid her own under the flannel he was wearing, reacquainting herself with the hard lines of his body, and reveling in his warmth. The sounds of the passing cars and the footsteps carrying people by them, and even the trains in the distance, all faded to the background. It was only as the heat was really pooling in her stomach that Lorelai broke the kiss, taking care to stay exactly where she was and looking up to meet his green eyes. He looked happy, she realized, and one of his hands left her back pocket to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Miss me?" he asked, his voice low and stirring things inside of her it shouldn't. The teasing glint in his eyes told her he already knew the real answer.
"Definitely not," she answered seriously. Dean chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that filled the small space between them.
"Liar," he teased, his grin broadening as he dipped his head slightly and kissed the top of her head, holding her closely. Lorelai couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips, nor did she have the heart to argue the truth in his words. She had missed him - missed this - and it was unsettling how easy it had been to get sucked back into his orbit. So instead of saying anything she squeezed tighter for half a second, and then tilted her head back again, pushing up to kiss him once more, although this one was much shorter… more chaste.
"Whatever you say," she told him with a smile. He shook his head affectionately and finally let her go, standing up straight as she took her own step back and grabbed her bags off the ground.
"Seriously though, I'm glad you're here. I thought this was gonna be a milk run but I'm having a hell of a time on it," he admitted. Lorelai held his gaze while she walked around the car to the passenger side, and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh?" He was already dropping down onto the bench seat and Lorelai quickly followed suit, pulling the door closed behind her as he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. Dean nodded, handing her a newspaper that had been on the seat between them before he turned his attention to driving.
"Yeah. That's what caught my eye," and Lorelai noticed there was a small article circled, but it was too dark in the car for her to read it easily, "and when I got here, I figured it was gonna be a simple salt and burn. Other tenants in the building have complained about temperature drops and scratching noises in the wall, but exterminators haven't found any rats. Found some ectoplasm in the dead chick's apartment."
"Alright, so you're definitely talking vengeful spirit territory then." Dean nodded, his eyes staying on the road as he navigated them around a corner and towards the light that would put them on the main road.
"Except I can't figure out which mook is doing it. I don't think it has anything to do with the girl - she's the third death like that in the past six months. Only thing the vics have in common, as far as I can tell, is that they all live in that building. Building's history's clean though. So I'm stumped." Lorelai frowned and smoothed a hand over the paper as though that would change anything.
"Have you been able to get any crime scene photos or – "
"Yeah, yeah," Dean cut her off, nodding his head. "I got all that. Like I said, talked to some of the other tenants too. We can go over all of it at the motel. I, uh… I guess I should have asked, but I assume you're crashing with me? It's not as nice as that cabin you rented, but –"
"Motel room is more than fine. I assumed I'd stay with you too." Dean's shoulders eased a bit and he nodded, almost to himself, and Lorelai settled back into the seat. She'd tried to tell herself that she was only coming because of the case and it was a light week at work. She'd also spent the last three weeks trying to convince herself that she'd only built Dean up in her head, that reality would fall short. Both of those things were harder to cling to now that she was here.
"Cool… cool… d'you eat yet? We can stop off and get dinner."
The drive was short, the Impala's engine humming a low, familiar tune, mingled with the radio as Dean navigated them towards a diner he'd found. He was quick to pull the newspaper from her hands and throw it into the backseat when she kept squinting, trying to read it under the passing streetlights. When she protested, Dean laughed and settled a hand onto her thigh, telling her to relax and that he'd fill her in on all the gory details. She'd ended up sliding closer to the middle, interested in digging through his cassettes for the mix she liked that had Black Sabbath and AC/DC, at which point Dean had tried to bat her hand away. It was when she craned up to kiss his neck that he stopped, mumbling something about how she was lucky he liked her. There was a smile that was almost a smirk playing across his face as she settled into his side, Smoke on the Water playing through the speakers as he kept his left hand on the wheel but threw his right arm around her, keeping her close. The quiet noise he made, and the subtle shift of his legs, when her hand found its way into his lap had her almost suggesting they skip dinner, but rumble of her stomach kept her quiet.
Eventually they came to a stop, Dean choosing a spot towards the back, under the trees and inconspicuous. Lorelai arched an eyebrow and Dean shrugged, brushing his lips against hers before reaching for his door.
"It's a distinctive car. No need to draw extra attention." Lorelai smiled, shaking her head, but followed his example, clambering out of her seat, the gravel of the lot crunching beneath her feet.
"More like you don't want anything scratching it," she said, noticing how tight the spots were closer to the building. Dean didn't disagree and instead slipped his arm back around her while they approached the front door.
Inside the diner warm pendant lights lit each booth, though relative to the night sky outside it felt bright. Neon signs flashed above the counter, and the pair of them slid into a booth in the front corner. It didn't escape her attention that Dean deliberately grabbed the side facing the rest of the diner, his eyes darting around as they settled in, their waitress dropping off menus that would likely be unnecessary.
"So the case," Lorelai prompted, folding her arms on the table and leaning forward. Dean's green eyes and coy smile threatened to pull her in deeper, but away from the cover of night it was easier to remember what they were doing there and hold her focus.
"Here?" he asked, and Lorelai looked around pointedly. The place was busy, and no one was paying attention. "Yeah, alright," Dean conceded. "Earlier this week a woman, Mia Santos, turns up dead, blood and guts painting the walls, door locked from the inside, deadbolt in place, the whole nine. Neighbor heard her scream and called the cops when Mia wouldn't answer the door. Three weeks ago, another woman, Charlotte Kennedy, bites it the same way. Husband found her when he came home and couldn't get in the apartment. No one heard anything on that one though, and the ME called it a self-inflicted accident. Before her there was another woman, Harper Thompson, and that was about five months ago. Same gruesome scene, except the apartment was unlocked. Cops said nothing was taken, no signs of forced entry. They ruled that one a homicide, but it's still open and no one's doing shit about it."
Lorelai frowned and took a sip of her water, mulling the information.
"And the vics don't have anything in common you said?" Dean was already shaking his head.
"Not much. All live in the same building, but different floors. All women, but different ages, ethnicities, backgrounds you name it. Mia was a young Latina chick that just moved to the area a few months ago and worked as a pharmaceutical rep. Charlotte was a soccer mom with two kids and a doting husband, second grade teacher. And Harper was an artsy divorcee that ran a gallery downtown. 'Course, I only got into Mia's apartment, but the place was covered in blood, EMF readings off the charts, ectoplasm, the works."
The waitress was back with their food before Lorelai could answer, and she didn't waste any time stabbing a fork into her chicken pot pie. Dean watched for half a beat, amusement clear in his eyes, before he dug into his own burger.
"And the building's history's clean too?" Dean nodded, swallowing down the bite he'd taken.
"Far as I can tell, yeah. Built 1962, empty lot before that. Some old folks have bit it over the years, uh there was a stockbroker that killed himself in '98 after his son died in a car accident, and a woman that OD'ed on heroin two years ago. None of that fits the bill."
"No, it doesn't," she frowned, scooping up more food from her plate. Dean smiled at her and caught her foot with his under the table, and Lorelai met his eye, fighting back a smile as she put the fork in her mouth.
"The Santos crime scene is still active. I already dropped by, but we could check it out together in the morning if you want."
"It's a date," she smiled, and Dean gave half a laugh before biting into his burger again.
By the time they finished the food and paid the check, discussions of Harborview Towers had been exchanged for lighter subjects, like how Katie's summer vacation was going and what Dean and his dad had been doing since he and Lorelai had parted ways in Tullahoma. Inversely, what had started as innocent, passing touches and light smiles grew more heated over the course of their meal. The initial heat Lorelai had felt upon arriving not only came back but had turned into a full-fledged inferno, and she very much doubted she was the only one feeling it. Still, there was laughter as they stumbled back towards the car, Dean's hands on her hips and Lorelai's braced against his shoulders as he peppered her with kisses and backed her up against the cool metal.
"You've got a room two miles down the road," Lorelai giggled when he reached for the back door. Dean kissed her deeply then, his hand leaving the door handle to tangle in her hair while the other pulled her closer.
"Can't wait," he murmured, his voice low and husky, before his lips dropped to the underside of her jaw, threatening to draw out a moan. "Need you. Three weeks was too damn long."
She didn't need any further convincing to climb in, Dean following closely behind her and pulling the door shut with him. In seconds he was hovering over her, her legs parting instinctively to let him rest between as they kissed. Her hands ran through his hair and pushed at the flannel he was wearing while Dean rucked up her shirt, eagerly seeking out her breasts.
Their clothes were discarded quickly, leaving them bare against one another, the windows fogging as the heat between them built. Dean let out a quiet fuck when his hands deftly slipped between her legs and felt how wet she already was, and then let out something that could have almost been described as a whine when she began kissing down his neck.
There was a flurry of movement while Dean searched his jeans for the little foil packet, and Lorelai ran her hands everywhere she could reach, feeling impatient. He'd been right that the three weeks had felt entirely too long, and Lorelai groaned when he finally thrust into her, her legs wrapping tightly around him, urging him closer. He swallowed her moans, and what started out slow and sensual became frantic and needy as they both chased their highs and fought to get as close to the other as possible.
It was quick, and messy, and Lorelai didn't care as she spasmed around him, Dean letting out a cry of his own and burying his face in her neck a moment later as he came hard, calling her name while he did. The situation was still a disaster – she wasn't willing to concede on that yet – but she could see now that walking away was going to be easier said than done.
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