Chapter Text
A blue Prius eased into the driveway connected to a picturesque house frosted with snow. The February stillness was broken only by the car’s tires crunching over the gravel until a wordless squeal rang out from the house and Lorelai Gilmore dashed out in her pajamas. “Rory!” she shouted. Lorelai was a tall and slender woman just approaching middle age, with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. Thanks to winning some sort of genetic lottery, she still appeared a decade younger than reality, gentle laugh lines around her eyes only adding to her natural beauty rather than suggesting any kind of maturity.
The driver, a younger woman, threw open the door of the Prius, all but leaping out of the driver’s seat and into Lorelai’s arms. “Mom!” The two clung to each other, the kind of embrace shared after several months apart. Rory was nearly a clone of her mother, a bit shorter but with the same stunning combination of bright eyes and dark hair that pulled at the heartstrings of many a man.
“You need to tell me everything that you saw,” Lorelai said, voice shaking in the cold. “Did you get it to her? Did you get the Pop Tarts to Michelle? Did she love them?” She wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, guiding her into the house.
“Mom, did you honestly think that I would be able to get anything to Michelle Obama without being tackled by big, burly Secret Service men?” Rory countered with a smile. “I mean, she just became the First Lady….”
“Yeah but who doesn’t love Pop Tarts?” Lorelai retorted, “There’s the strawberry ones, the s'mores ones that have the chocolate icing on it, and--” Lorelai gasped, “You didn’t offer her the classic brown sugar.”
“I got her strawberry, the ones you gave me.”
“How foolish of me, to send my daughter to one of the most important people in the world without brown sugar Pop Tarts? Those things could make peace in the middle east if they didn’t already arrive toasted.” The pair ascended the porch steps, still debating the relative merit of Pop Tarts. They closed the door behind them as an older car rumbled to a stop on the side of the road in front of the house.
* * *
“Oh, come on, Dean,” said the tall man climbing out of the classic impala. “It’s your turn to hit the morgue.” He easily ghosted just under six and a half feet tall, dressed in a simple, black, off-the-rack suit that he buttoned while his companion came around the front of the car to meet him on the sidewalk.
Dean, a few inches shorter and similarly dressed, didn’t pause on his way towards the quaint, suburban house, letting the taller man fall into step beside him. “What do you mean it’s my turn? What are you, twelve? Sam, you’re better at that crap than me. Besides,” he said as they approached the door, “I’m better at getting intel from the locals.”
“That ‘crap’ is called science, dude.” Dean scoffed at Sam’s remark. “And by ‘getting intel’ you mean picking up waitresses at the local watering hole.”
Dean didn’t bother to hide his smirk as he rang the doorbell. He schooled his features into a look of friendly professionalism, reaching into his inside jacket pocket.
* * *
The two women sat on a beige couch in a homey living room, legs crossed under them as they faced each other, eagerly chattering away.
“So, the Inauguration was amazing. They had a special set of bleachers for the press and, I mean I wasn’t one of the important ones like Christiane Amanpour, but I saw it all on a big screen and Yo-Yo Ma was--”
The doorbell rang, cutting into the conversation. Lorelai turned her head to the door. “You didn’t forget anyone, did you?”
“If that’s a coy way of asking if I have a boyfriend, it’s a no. Work has been crazy, just constantly---”
“No, it wasn’t.” Lorelai smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. “That answers that question but I wasn’t asking it, at least not there.” She frowned a bit at the thought but stood up. “Maybe it’s Luke, he said he might be having some free time this afternoon…”
“Oh yeah?” Rory responded, seeing her mom cross the room to the foyer. “So, you two are still…?”
“And you’re the one complaining about leading questions!” Lorelai turned as she reached the front door, laughing. “It’s like--” Lorelai stopped abruptly, eying the two men in front of her. Her gaze settled instantly on the taller man. “Dean, what’s up? Who’s this?”
The taller man cocked his head to the side, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows high. The shorter one had a hand raised and appeared to be about to answer but stopped, lips pursed, apparently realizing that the woman wasn’t addressing him. The silence stretched on, punctuated only by a couple of low monosyllables from the two men, the men exchanging a couple looks of unadulterated confusion. “Ah…..” Almost in unison, they displayed FBI badges. The taller one recovered first and introduced himself. “I’m agent Lee, this is my partner Agent Sixx. I’m sorry, have we met?”
“Look, Dean, it takes a lot of balls for you to come here and just pretend that nothing ever happened. Who is this? A cousin?” Lorelai responded, blue eyes aflame with anger. “Agent Lee? What are you up to Dean?”
Rory dashed to the door. “What about Dean?” The younger woman looked up at the taller man. Her once open face turned hard and firm. “Oh, what are you doing here?” Her voice had gone quiet, diminutive, her joy lost upon seeing an old flame again.
Both men took a step back from the bubbling hostility in the doorway, eyes wide and arms spread in what could only be described as confused surrender. “Uhh…” the taller one repeated eloquently.
The shorter man's green eyes flashed in the faintest display of frustration as he hooked a thumb at his own chest. “I'm Dean. The attractive one?” He gestured at his partner indignantly. “The gargantuan is Sam.”
“Yeah,” said Sam-not-Dean quickly, eyes darting between the women in front of him. “We're investigating a disappearance. Edwin Roberts down the street?”
“So, you're Sam Lee and Dean Sixx?” Lorelai asked. “Not Dean Forester and… Some random cousin?” Lorelai flicked her hand up towards Dean. She looked at Rory, yanking her out of her reverie. “Did Dean mention any male cousins or something?”
“Uh, not that I know, he doesn't really know his extended family and….” She looked up at Agent Lee. “He has a different haircut; he never let his hair out that much.”
Agent Lee looked at his shoes, lips downturned into a puppy dog frown while Sixx grinned up at him.
“Uh huh.” Lorelai kept on staring at Sam. “Sam Lee… And Dean Sixx? Not Tommy and Nikki?”
Agent Sixx’s grin broke into a short chuckle and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “No ma'am, but you are the first person today to ask us that.”
“Could we maybe come in, ma’am?” Lee asked, pointedly ignoring the shorter man next to him. “It’s pretty cold out here.”
Lorelai looked at her daughter, still trying to protect her. Rory nodded, climbing out of her shell. “It's not Dean, he never complained about the cold that quickly.” Lorelai nodded and pointed them to the nearby living room adjacent to the foyer.
“If she says you're not Dean,” Lorelai reasoned, still looking at Agent Lee, “then you're not Dean.” She stepped aside as they entered. “You said Edwin Roberts, right?”
“That's right,” Agent Lee answered. “His wife reported him missing two days ago. Have you heard anything?”
“Edwin Roberts…” Lorelai sat on the couch while Rory picked up her bags and mounted the stairs. “Uh, no. They moved here a couple of months ago, they used to work in Hartford but moved here to retire because it’s much more relaxed out here. None of that hustle and bustle you get in the big cities.” Lorelai laughed but the two men didn’t react. “Well I haven’t seen him of late, no.”
Agent Sixx narrowed his eyes from his position leaning casually against the wall. The agents had all but surrounded her, Agent Lee sitting on the couch, forcing Lorelei to turn her head. “No, you wouldn't, would you?” Sixx answered. “Hence the missing person investigation.”
Lee shot his partner a warning glare with a firm jaw. “Do you know what he did in Hartford? Where he retired from?”
“I don’t know, I remember he said he did... he seemed to know how to do handiwork.” Lorelai said, scratching her head. “I think he said something about a hardware store or something.” She shrugged. “He’s only been here a bit, although if you want anything, you go to Patty, she runs Miss Patty’s School of Ballet. Every piece of gossip goes through her.”
Agent Lee nodded and jotted something down in a tiny notepad that suddenly appeared in his hands. Agent Sixx had pushed away from the wall and was circling around to face Lorelai, though he didn’t sit. “Do you know of any enemies he might have had? Anyone who would want to hurt him?”
“No, I know that, you don’t really make enemies here in Stars Hollow. You might make Taylor angry but the worst thing he’d do is come up with some nonsense reason for you to contribute time at the next festival we’re scheduled to do, and we have one like, every… two weeks.”
“That’s how we do it in Stars Hollow,” Rory added as she came back down the stairs. “A party every other week where we do something for the town.” She walked slowly down and stopped in the middle of the staircase. “Plus, Taylor is a pushover, he’s not bad.”
“Sorry, who’s Taylor?” Agent Lee asked.
“Taylor is the Town’s Selectsman,” Lorelai said. “He sorta runs the town but isn’t the mayor or anything. I don’t… think…”
“We haven’t had a mayoral election because no one wants to do it. Taylor does basically all the major work for the city; he runs the Historical Committee, he runs the weekly meetings where everyone sorta comes to debate business,” Rory explained.
“Yeah, we don’t really do proper government. New England tradition type of thing,” Lorelai offered.
Agent Lee scribbled in his notepad again. Sixx’s eyes softened into something less hostile but still pretty intense when he asked, “Anything strange there? Sudden rises to power or insane bouts of good luck?”
“Nope, not that I know of. I mean, Rory’s back,” Lorelai responded.
“I’m back!” Rory nearly yelled.
Agent Lee flashed Rory a bright smile and shut his notepad, stuffing it into a pocket. “Where are you coming back from?”
“DC. I was covering the Inauguration of President Obama for my job. I’m a journalist but I have a book or two in mind.” She shrugged, the smile causing her to wince a bit.
The taller man raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Oh cool! I bet that was quite an experience. You know, I’d love to hear all about it sometime.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it over to Rory, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Give me a call later and you can tell me all about it.”
Agent Sixx clapped his partner on the shoulder and turned toward the door. “Or, you know, if you think of anything that might be useful to our investigation because we’re professionals,” he said with a pointed stare at Agent Lee.
Rory gave the card to her mom, shrinking away from the scene. “That sounds great,” Lorelai forcefully enunciated each word, looking at the card. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be much help right now but I’m sure that if you talk to Miss Patty, she’ll give you everything that the town has found out.” Lorelai rose and walked to the foyer. “However, if you need any help, I’m Lorelai Gilmore, I run the local Inn.” She pulled out a card from her jeans and hands it to Agent Sixx. “If you tell Michel that you’re here figuring out why Edwin Roberts is gone. If he gives you lip, and he will because he’s French, tell him to call me and he’ll stop complaining and just mutter instead.”
Sixx tapped the card and smiled kindly at Lorelai. “Well that solves our next mystery: where to stay in this one-horse town. Thank you very much for your time.” He nodded once and headed out of the door. Agent Lee dragged his eyes away from where Rory had disappeared, smiled at Lorelai, and muttered his thanks.
As they made their way back to the behemoth of a car, Lorelai called after them “We have two horses at the Dragonfly Inn, so we’re not just a one-horse town!” She closed the door and sighed. Turning to her daughter, Lorelai said, “That wasn’t Dean, or rather it wasn’t your Dean.”
“He’s not my Dean.” Rory countered. “But he looks so much like him…”
“And he likes you too.”
“God, please don’t… I still don’t want to… not after Logan.” Rory’s voice disappeared towards the end, the past slowly creeping up.
“No, no I understand.” Lorelai looked at the card. “I’ll hold on to this, but not for us, but for Edwin.”
“Was he a good guy?” Rory said, her voice returning slowly.
“He was quiet, he and his wife didn’t really get out. I don’t think I even saw them at Doose’s more than… five times…” Lorelai said with a sigh.
“Well, I… I think I need to talk to Paris.” Rory said, “I… need her to help process this, we’re too close.” Rory headed toward her room, turning back once to add in a shocked voice, “he looked just like Dean.”.
* * *
Lounging on her bed a few minutes later, Rory scrolled through her phone and pressed the contact link for Paris Gellar. After a few rings, Paris picked up. “Hey, what’s up?”
“The… strangest thing has happened,” Rory said. “You remember Dean, my first boyfriend… the one that I… Yeah.”
“Yeah…. Usually the mental picture of him in my mind is accompanied with the placard reading ‘cheating douchebag.’” Paris Gellar’s was just the voice Rory needed. While her mother was a strong and kind voice, she needed the dead-inside-sarcasm of her best friend.
“Well, I just got home and was talking to my mom about the Inauguration when the doorbell rings and there are these two men here to investigate the disappearance of someone who just settled in Stars Hollow.” After a short pause, Rory continued, “But one, this one tall, but not gangly… he was the spitting image of Dean.”
“As in he looked exactly like Dean? Like if he had an illegitimate love child-”
“He wouldn’t even need a DNA test because he could have been a twin!” Rory exclaimed, finishing her friend’s sentence.
“Are you sure he doesn’t have a twin or something?” Paris asked, surprised at the existence of two Deans.
“It must be a secret twin, but if that's true, then which one is the secret twin.”
Paris didn't respond right away, leaving Rory to wonder if her friend believed her. “Did he have any noticeable scars or a strange and extreme accent?”
“Uh, no. I mean, I don't think so, I haven't spoken to Dean in years. Not since--”
“He rowed away in his douche canoe?”
“That’s a way of putting it.” Rory sighed, she loved her friend but Paris never held back.
“So, what are you going to do? I mean, you’re still recovering from Logan.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna call him. I mean, I’ve just been focusing on work and I have a couple of novel ideas…”
“So then don’t worry about it, let him clumsily hit on you, let him just waste his energy.”
“He should be focusing on his case anyway,” Rory added. “I mean, he doesn’t need distractions and I certainly don’t.”
“Yeah? You’re still working on it?”
“Not so much, he… I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, I’m not a trophy wife.”
“Yeah, you’re not…” Paris laughed, “Anyway, let’s have lunch, while Yale medical is hard, everyone’s still a child and are boring.”
“Sure, tomorrow?”
* * *
“Dude, seriously?” Dean demanded of Sam as they turned down the sidewalk and approached the next house, directly across the street from Edwin Roberts’ residence.
Sam slid his hands in his pockets and stepped over a chunk of snow in the middle of the path. “What?”
“You were hitting on that girl.”
“I was not!”
Dean stopped suddenly and gaped at his companion. “Oh please, Sam. Look who you’re talking to.” Sam just scoffed and turned his back on Dean, who took a couple fast steps to catch up with the taller man’s enormous stride. “Seriously, man, it’s bad news. Or did you not see that epic case of mistaken identity?”
“I wasn’t hitting on her, Dean,” Sam said with an exasperated sigh.
“Whatever you say, Sammy, but I’m telling you, you’ve got an evil twin running around somewhere breaking hearts. Specifically, that heart.” The men climbed the steps to the next house on their list and reached for the doorbell. “Try to keep it in your pants this time, okay, Casanova?” he muttered.
Sam glared down at Dean, quickly replacing it with a gentle smile as an older gentleman came to the door. “Can I help you?”
The two men flashed their badges, again introducing themselves as agents. The homeowner invited them in right away, appearing eager to help.