FIC Battleships, Tensions and Hello Kitty Panties (Paris/Rory, 1/1?, R) Drabble #1 for

[mrschimpf]

Title: Battleships, Tensions and Hello Kitty Panties
Author: Nate
Pairing: Paris/Rory, third person POV. And more, which I will not ruin here...
Spoilers: An alternate post-417 universe where the spring break kiss was played for more than laughs, Dean's ego was severely wounded instead of boosted in the drunken phone call, Asher is gone, Marty's just a friend and Paris and Rory are their good ol' passionate sarcastically sexy and intelligent selves. And let's assume that Logan was thrown into a Thai prison Brokedown Palace-style for something sexist.
Rating: R (sexual situations, profanity, heavy flirting, allusions of sexuality between minors, and children's board games used for sexually perverted purposes)
Disclaimer: You know, if the WB had guts, they would've let Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, Hofflund-Polone and Warner Bros. Television let Paris and Rory be a couple longer than about four seconds. But they didn't. And for what...another pretty blonde boy?! Sigh, guys, you had a pretty blonde girl already, she was perfectly fine for Rory. But thus, they own them, and we have to live with Prory within our sweet dreams. It still would've been fun for Rory to wake up in her bed with Paris at the start of season five. And a whole lot less angsty for sure. And less adulterous and floppy-haired.

Battleship is a game and trademark of Milton-Bradley/Hasbro and other publishers internationally. All other products and services mentioned within are the property and trademarks of their respective owners, and no disrespect is meant or implied.
Archiving: My personal LJ, ff.net, aff.net, and RalSt. Anyone else ask first
Summary: That certain game of naval strategy has never been this fun, as Paris and Rory realize more than fun is to be had during an evening of revelations and desires.
Author's Notes: OK, I'm going to admit something. You're going to find this shocking...

This isn't a drabble. (shock!) I know, it's all 9,000 words and non-drabbly! Are you flailing around the room in a panic that this prompt didn't get smushed into 400 words?

OK, maybe you're not. Chelle gave me a prompt to work with which involved the situation where the girls played a board game (Scrabble in the original prompt, or my choice) and eventually were so turned on they lost interest in the game. Since I am legendary at totally sucking at Scrabble, and Danielle indeed already had that as the plot point for a Luke/Lorelai fic from eons ago (seriously, we're talking the stone age, eight years ago), I decided that Battleship would fit the bill since it's an intelligent game of strategy, and seriously, I see Paris being the type to be into World of Warcraft somehow. She gets off on strategy, and it's the same in board games.

I really had so much fun with this prompt, so much that I had to end it long before all of the story was told. I also went to a place I never dared and I'm hoping that this story will lead to further later adventures.

Again, thanks to Chelle for being such an awesome writer and a friend in every sense, always there and loyal. She has four more coming after this, but they're not going to be this length. You asked for it, dear ;). Now enjoy the delicious tension that two women playing a "boy's game" (seriously, what a stupid term. I will admit with no shame when I was thirteen I totally joined in a round of Girl Talk, the "Date Line" version, which was awesome! Gotta love the odd pink speaker that came with that game and the questions that were asked. Gimme that over the testosterone-fest that is Crossfire any day!) will produce.
If there was one thing Paris did surprisingly well at, it was playing games. Not the kind she played at Chilton to get ahead, but all kinds of games.

Unfortunately, Tanna and Janet knew this way too well, being cleaned out of common room games of Sorry! and Monopoly way too fast. Even with Marty and Doyle joining in, it inevitably turned into a battle of wits as Paris and Rory fought to be the first pawn to complete the game or bankrupt the other. Rory could usually get a 39% rate of victory, but since Paris had played Monopoly with Nanny so many times over the years, she knew the intricacies of building up the perfect boards in all of the games she played. Scrabble especially was her best game, with her memorization of entire dictionaries resulting in an 78% win rate.

However, two-player board games?

Those were her Waterloo. She could only muster an average win rate in those games...

One that plunged to almost even around Rory.

So when Rory suggested they play Battleship earlier, she thought nothing of it.

At least at first. Both girls had been incredibly sexual towards each other since spring break, when after the kiss Rory had time to think about how Paris thought about her while nursing her drinks.

This resulted in her admitting to Dean within a drunken voicemail that in just that one kiss she had felt more turned on than she ever did with the tall floppy-haired newlywed. Surprisingly when she recovered from her hangover the next morning she had no regrets about the admission.

As a matter of fact, that morning she snuck into the shower and did more than kiss Paris, as they had found out a few days before they left for Daytona Beach that Asher was cheating on Paris and she wanted to give the petite blonde some comfort and test the theory that without men in their lives she was indeed attracted to her classmate. Since then, both women had slowly tested the waters, feeling each other up through their clothes and sleeping in the same bed, but not doing much more than that.

However as Paris got out the heirloom Battleship set that had been with her father since it was a Hanukah gift in 1965, Rory decided to assert that she felt a little frisky that evening. Since the game was on a high shelf in her closet, she had to stand on a chair to get it. Paris wasn't nervous until...

"YEEEP!!" She was startled as she felt hands on her ass. "Rory, what on earth are you thinking? Are you trying to break my neck?"

The brunette giggled and tossed back her ponytail as she helped her friend off the chair and took the game from her.

"I'm not allowed to touch you, hon?"

"It's not that, I'm just...you surprised me."

"Well that's good. I want you to be surprised." Smiling as if she was planning a pro-and-con list, Paris knew something was up, judging from Rory's odd want to play Battleship rather than a classic like checkers or backgammon, since she considered Battleship more of a game for guys. She looked over the box art displaying two boys playing the game and giggled.

"OK, Gilmore. What are you planning?" She sighed deeply.

"Nothing, really. So there's five boats in each...armada, right?"

"Of course." She does know how to play this game I hope.

"And it's a game of blind strategy."

"Yes," She was becoming impatient. "If you don't know how to play--"

"Oh, I do," she proclaimed proudly. "It was the game I played most with Lane."

Unboxing the game, she smiled at her friend as she laid it out on the night table which usually sat between their bed. Paris took the red board, while Rory had blue. Paris had no idea what Rory had planned until she sprung it while Paris was setting up her ships on the lower grid.

"Let's raise the stakes a little," she said.

"We're talking money then," Paris said. "I can do money."

Rory shook her head. "Not playing for money." She grinned. "Let's make it interesting."

"Interesting?" Now Paris was worried. Rory set up her ships, not looking up at all from her console.

"Each win, something comes off."

Of course, Paris being Paris, she was at that moment sipping on her water, and almost choked on her sip. The blonde blushed as her friend's words hit her.

"Something comes off?!" Her eyes bulged forward.

"Yep. So that gives you incentive to win." Winking, Rory went on with setting up the game as Paris tried to talk her out of her new crazy thinking.

"Nope, we need to let go. You, my friend, really need to get that stick out your keister and become a true college girl. Please?"

With that, her patented pout was dropped into Paris's lap.

Paris could never resist the Rory Pout, try as she might. After a couple more minutes of fretting (and cursing that her laundry hadn't been done yet, leading her to wear her fancier articles), Paris gave in.

"What happens to the...loser, as it were?"

Rory thought for a moment. "We'll come to it later."

"Fine." And with that, they began the heated game of Strip Battleship, a game that a simpleton could have thought up, but only two girls who were Mensa members could enjoy for the mix of strategy, one-upsmanship, and the other strategies that were part of the game they played. Both women played their individual games well, looking at their grids closely to see where their ships could be. The game was played with full wits in play, Paris and Rory slowly plotting out each way they could figure out how to outdo each other.

At first Paris had the upper hand, winning the first game, which earned her Rory's socks. The second game almost filled both of their pegboards, but a lucky guess of where Rory's patrol boat was earned her victory, and Rory's hoodie. She proudly and slowly took off the article, letting her body elongate as she put all she learned from rubbing against Jess and giving him free shows to drive her sort-of girlfriend up a wall. Soon the sweatshirt was off, and with it when Paris's competitive advantage. Rory laid upon her bed and played up her cleavage, tightening the straps of her bra to heighten her small cleavage, knowing Paris would stare the whole time. The blue bra, framing each of her breasts delicately, hinted at what laid beneath, a slight section of lace exposing just the slightest portion of her rosy nipples.

Soon, Paris began to lose her concentration and lost the third game, and her socks with it. She tried to shuffle her ships around to be as far out in the grid as possible, but it was of no use, Rory's declaration that the final shot at Paris's destroyer was at F-6 resulted in the blonde losing her own shirt. Handing it over without much of a striptease, she felt exposed when Rory took in her deep cleavage within her purple cotton bra, which flattered her every curve. The brunette grinned at her, the stare heated as she went with a random ship placement for the fifth game.

"Stop staring at my chest," she warned, her eyes slitted in annoyance.

"Then stop staring at mine," Rory responded back. "Shouldn't be too hard...wait." A pause. "I mean wet. Ladies don't get hard." Another wink.

Paris groaned. "Rory."

"Hey, you agreed to this."

"Don't remind me." Paris rolled her eyes and hoped the next game would be good for her,

It wasn't. She ended up losing her pants and having to play the remainder of the match in purple briefs which proudly carried the logo of Victoria's Secret upon the waistband. Rory kept looking at her.

"No peeking," she warned, thinking the girl was trying to suss out the position of her ships.

"Not peeking," Rory corrected. "Drooling." She took in her friend looking like a WASPy version of Giselle Bundchen. "You should model."

"I won't model. It's degrading."

"Then you can just model for me." Rory wagged her eyebrows. "I promise you dear that I will put you in a great light." Paris growled in response, only earning the poor girl some more teasing from her roommate. "Aww, you sound like a kitten...a very sexy kitten."

"And I thought Tristan was bad," she off-handed. "Get control over your hormones there, Gilmore. Your fingers are there for a reason: you should use them more often."

If she thought she could get the usually innocent girl to blush and back off, it wasn't working, for she knew Rory was using her fingers to do the walking. Often. Nightly, in fact around 2:30am after her mid-bedtime bathroom trip, when she thought Paris was completely asleep.

"What can I say, Gellar? Living around you has brought my inner sexpot out to play." She looked down at her grid. "H-7."

"Damn it! Hit, sub."

"Yes!" She pumped her fist in the air as Paris applied the red peg atop of her sub ship, while Rory brought out her own upon the target grid. Rory would sink that ship, but would soon end up losing round six after most of her guesses ended up around the same portion of the grid, when Paris had spread her ships out a bit more further.

"I won this one," Paris proclaimed.

"Oh, you think you did," Rory husked, rising up to undo the button fly of her jeans. She unsnapped each button slowly, smiling all the way until she got to the bottom button and opened the fly further. Paris attempted to avert her eyes, but it was of no use.

Rory knew Paris hated it when she didn't match. But she especially got all huffy when she was in her lucky Hello Kitty panties, a pair she proudly proclaimed in private had been worn for every big test she took in Chilton, including the infamous PSAT Rory had owned her blonde Jewish friend at. Having been washed so many times the cotton underwear was almost see-through, giving the poor girl a clear look at the outline of her friend's thin and neatly trimmed line of hair along her slit through the white material and the sprinkled faces of the cute cartoon cat.

"Bet you want to say hello to my kitty," she quipped, a little knuckle bite causing the blonde to deeply shudder at the wanton display of lust her rival was showing within a strategy game. She closed her legs together to hold back the heat building between them. "Don't worry. She doesn't bite...hard."

"You sound like you're in soft-core porn," she argued, while her body attempted to reason that she loved Rory getting naughty with her.

Rory stepped out of her jeans and tossed them aside, keeping herself standing as she noticed that Paris's eyes were completely going against her conscious. She knew Paris was trying to peek beneath her panties, and she enjoyed the attention her friend with benefits was giving her. It reminded her when her and Jess first had their roll in the hay...

Only Jess loved her and left her. Paris wouldn't be going anywhere at all. She was stuck with Rory, no matter what. She sat back down, stretching her legs open across the bed on purpose as she sat down to get into game seven. She felt a bit of a rush of air between her legs, and giggled, looking straight away towards Paris to see her reaction.

The blonde was easily caught and tried to unsuccessfully reel back as her deep browns laid sight upon her valedictorian's womanly delights, taking a deep nervous breath as Rory pulled up her panties to create a purposeful outline of her pussy lips.

Two can play at this, Paris thought. She pulled up her own bikini panties, thankful they were tight enough not to expose her, but flattering enough to leave little to the imagination. Even though she had worn a full swimsuit during spring break even she knew keeping a neat and tiny carpet led to success in the bedroom.

Even if Asher went with a bare porch, she thought bitterly. She wasn't about to go all-out, so she kept a neat line trimmed.

"Game seven," Rory announced. "This one's for the bra."

"Is it possible to have a draw?" Paris grumbled.

"Not in this game. It's mathematically impossible."

"I thought I'd try." Looking down at her ocean board Paris tried to break her armada apart as much as she could within the 10x10 grid, hoping for a break soon. She did well at first, sinking Rory's carrier and two of her smaller ships at first. However once again the sub and battleship evaded her. In the meantime Rory was able to build up a good amount of guesses, and took down four of Paris's boats, leaving her carrier all alone and vulnerable.

Not wanting to lose her top she tried to distract Rory by giving her seductive looks and tossing back her hair to stretch the fabric of her bra as her breasts swelled within it. She would 'accidently' brush her fingers against each nipple until they stiffened. She thought Rory would soon be off her game.

It wouldn't work. Although Rory could admire the wonders Terrence's workout regimen and a blessed gene pool did for her friend, she quickly began to rattle off the I column, hoping for a hit. At I-4, she had it.

"Hit. Carrier." Paris knew she was doomed. Next came I-5, I-6, and then I-3. Meanwhile all of her hits landed far away from the brunette's ships. After a desperate call of E-5 to hit anything, she found her fate sealed.

"I-7," Rory stated confidently, knowing that only a miracle breakup of the game piece and intervention via the spirit world would keep her in the game.

"You sunk my carrier. Damn it." Placing the dreaded red peg upon her ship, Paris had lost the game as her friend once again celebrated in her underwear.

"Fine, you won." Without enthusiasm she began to take off the bra without ceremony, until Rory stopped her with a stretched hand.

"Nope. Take it off slowly, babe." She grinned as she stared Paris down, her body excited at the prospect of seeing Paris further nude. "Let's not be huffy about this."

"Huffy?" She sulked, rolling her eyes. "I am not huffy."

"Of course not. You know I didn't mean it." Smugly wrapping her arms around her chest, she turned on the charm further. "Paris Gellar is certainly not huffy. My personal everyday sexual fantasy, the only girl I would've ever taken in a Chilton broom closet, and the woman with the hottest two legs in the entirety of Yale who I'm so glad is wearing those indecent short shorts before bed or she gets dressed, yes. Huffy? Certainly not!"

Blushing, Paris slowly rose from her seat, very nervous. "You're just saying that because I get you off."

"You deliver on that in so many ways." A wink, her heated stare tingling Paris's skin. "Remember when we got into the hotel room? How we made out? How you begged me to get a bikini and forced my hand by tearing my bathing suit from my body?"

"I can't forget." Paris smiled at the memory. "Peeling back the material and suckling kisses against your breasts. You began to rub me beneath the skirt and within the crotch of my bikini bottom. I didn't know you were gonna be so aggressive, and I was taken aback." She reached behind to unhook her bra.

"That kiss made you so wet, hon. I still remember smelling my fingers when I pulled away. How hot your smell was, and how you looked without the throw on, your hair undone, body winding on the bed..."

"We kissed even more," Paris remembered, slowly sliding her straps down seductively. "Soon, we were leg to leg..."

"Pushing against each other..." The bra hook was undone, leaving Paris to push it from herself slowly.

"Most of our clothes discarded, rubbing our pussies against our suit bottoms. I was so horny that night...the alcohol, the atmosphere, the kiss..."

"The touching, all of my favors to you...the fact that unlike Jamie or Asher, you let me play with your breasts all that I wanted..."

"Yess...oh fuck, Ror." The article slid from her body. "Rubbing your pussy, seeing you cum..."

"Made the night, and our relationship more interesting, more defined. Hotter than hell. Made me look at you like you're fucking gorgeous."

"You swear only for me, baby."

"Never for anyone else."

"Getting wet for me? The ladies getting you warm? Having to hear me in detail all summer about how Asher fucked me, you wanted to be there, right?"

"Would've rather been there in his stead," Rory asserted. "The bastard got you off, but he didn't know what made you purr."

As the bra dropped to the ground between the nightstand and Paris's bed, she smiled, getting into the situation finally. Her arms over her breasts she cupped them together to accentuate her cleavage in a way her bra could not. She knew Rory was ogling her, taking in the definition of her flattering curves, the slight baby fat of her belly highlighting how the freshman fifteen had only accentuated her voluptuous body.

"I love to purr," Paris husked, sitting back down on her bed, this time open-legged, her shame disappearing with her clothing. "So we're on game eight."

"One I'm going to win," Rory called, cockily. "And you're gonna lose."

"Sure I am. Did you forget the first thing I ever told you, Gilmore?" She slid her tongue along her lips, slowly releasing her hands from her breasts so she could work with her grid and unpeg the ships.

"That I'd never catch up or beat you? Honey, that went down in flames when I beat your ass by thousandths of a grade point for valedictorian." She giggled, knowing the death glare was coming, which it did within moments.

Only this time it was less of a death glare and more of a 'dammit I want to rip those panties off' glare.

"Thousandths, whatever. Just thank your lucky stars Charleston is a stubborn traditionalist who isn't of the 'everyone gets a trophy, even the pothead who did shit for our team' school of reward. One valedictorian, period."

"I know, your enormous..." She trailed off, letting her eyes trace shamelessly across her friend's bountiful endowments with a playful smirk, "...ego wouldn't have left room for me on the stage if we were together."

Paris's eyes narrowed as she laid out her ships, holding a few of the red pegs in her hands. "Careful there. I have torpedoes and I'm not afraid to use them."

"You certainly aren't. They're aimed at me right now, aren't they?" Rory began to know how her mother felt when she was 'in the mood'.

"Don't look right into them. They might blow you away." Winking she brought her attention back to the game, feeling a new sense of superiority over Rory in the flirting department. If I turn her on, she theorized, I might end up getting a win here.

She played game eight in more of a come-hither way than of full concentration, although she still planned out her calls. Her voice took a deep and suggestive tone, a deep smirk upon her face as she intoned "miss" as if Rory had come just that close to an erogenous zone upon her body. She hadn't been so naked around Rory since the Chilton girl's locker room, but in that situation she felt nothing like the supermodel Rory asserted she was within that dorm room.

Paris's calls were smart, and she read Rory's patterns well, getting three of her ships within seven minutes. Rory began to worry as Paris began to go after her carrier, and she was right to, as the blonde distracted her even further, sitting cross-legged on the bed, her legs fully open as she made another call.

"F-6?"

Rory groaned. "Hit, carrier."

"I'm getting you all wet in this one," she intoned with a giddy grin. "Your ships are going down quickly. And soon your bra will too."

"Paris, my dear, I was already wet this afternoon when I napped and pictured myself going down on you in the picture window."

"Must be painful," she said. "Having to hold back because Marty woke you up right in the middle. Couldn't finish yourself off."

"You have no idea. Bastard needs to learn how to knock." She glared at Paris. "And you need to stop doing that hair flippy thing."

"What hair flippy thing?" Paris scoffed. "I don't do a hair flippy thing."

"You do too. Terrence made you cut it short. You started flipping it a few days after Labor Day because it felt wrong to not have your locks covering your boobs."

"I don't flip my hair!"

Paris then tossed back her hair, proving her friend wrong.

"There, you did it! It's a reassuring thing to you to have hair."

"Crimeny, so I want long hair again. Is that wrong?" Groaning, the blonde shook her head. "Call your shot."

"H-5...And no, so not wrong. I have a thing for pulling it."

"Miss, and why pull it?"

"Because I'm in third grade and maybe Tristan had a point in pulling your pigtails, because it's kinda hot in my head."

"You have a weird thing about me in pigtails."

"It's not a thing. More of a fetish."

"A fetish?"

"You're much younger than you look when you knot up your hair. I don't know, when I see you in pigtails I get this feeling that I'll be arrested for 'statutory undressing you with my eyes.'"

Paris reddened at the confession just as she made her call. "F-5, and come on, really?"

"My oddest Chilton dreams came on pigtail days for you. Mostly involving you under my skirt. Hit, carrier by the way."

"I hated the hose," Paris said. "How could you wear them?"

"Grandma," Rory said. "She said wearing blue tights was not a mark of shame."

Smiling, Paris brought herself back in. "So I'm a slut for wearing short socks?"

"There's a difference though. Louise was a slut for disregarding underwear on all but the coldest days. You however went with short socks in an attempt to be some kind of Chiltonian lust object, and for the most part, it did work. However the social hierarchy of Chilton meant that you could wear a skirt hitched halfway up your thigh and never get anyone to notice, while Francie was slowly able to subvert the rules and ended up in the broom closet daily."

"You didn't play the game though. You had Jess."

"True, but like you, I was at Chilton to learn. Lorelai could've easily slutted up my skirt and tightened my uniform shirt. I didn't let her. I didn't want that attention."

"So you're saying if I wanted to get laid I should've gone to your mom?"

"No, because you'd have been expelled if you went with her advice." A pause. "C-8?"

"Another miss, and point taken." Paris looked at her board, hoping to lock in on how far Rory's carrier went. "Thank God for Asher on one thing; he got me to realize that the schoolgirl look doesn't extend to lingerie."

"And you're no schoolgirl any longer," Rory suggested with a smile. "A full-grown woman you are."

"A full-grown woman who has a friend 78 days older than her dressing like Lizzie McGuire!" Laughing, she pointed at Rory when the brunette gave her the Gilmore growl.

"You take that back!"

"Come on, you're innocent as she is!"

"Oh, I'll give you innocent." She paused. "I retreat."

"Huh?"

"I retreat. I am taking the loss and you sunk my carrier."

"You cannot retreat or resign in Battleship. The official rules do not allow that action."

"Fuck the official rules, this is a house action. I retreat and you win game eight." She got up from the bed and moved towards the end between the bed as Paris tried to understand Rory throwing the game suddenly as the future journalist smirked and slid off her own bra, much to Paris's consternation.

"Y-y...you...you cannot do that! It is illegal to resign a game!"

"It's also illegal to keep your legs open that wide and show yourself to me as if you're a luscious opening I want to slide a popsicle into."

"Oh my God!" Just the very thought of that chilled Paris and made her shudder. "Are you asserting that I'm protruding? I'm sorry, but my labia is quite normal for a woman my age. Why are you even looking down there, you should be staring at my breasts! That's what I was playing up!"

"There's no shame in having a bit of cameltoe," Rory quipped. "Should make paper meetings next year quite interesting when I decide to goose you." She unclipped the bra in the front and smirked at her friend. "And I will get in gooses, I promise you."

"That's sexual harassment--"

"And you don't have to take it. But you will, mon d�licieux parisien."

Another eyeroll from Paris as she shook her head. "Sorry to say, but my name doesn't mean you can use naughty French to flirt with me."

"Manger mon vagin, Paris, haugh, haugh, haugh!" Rory exclaimed back in an exaggerated French accent.

"Especially that! Good lord, Gilmore, what exactly did I do to you? Dean made you feel like a nun and Jess was a regular one-pump fuck. But around me you're so...so..."

Rory slid her bra off all the way, letting it fall to the ground and leaving Paris speechless. Almost undressed, the freckled beauty always knew that her body always left the intense blonde stunned. Even at the beach she knew the girl had slid a few glances her way, despite having been in her full bathing suit. It wasn't until a bikini purchase the next day on a dare from Madeline and Louise though that she knew the kiss at the nightclub was more than Paris testing her kissability.

Especially when she knew she felt a tongue flit within her mouth. A neutral kiss would not have been so full of fervor. Rory knew that seeing Madeline and Louise kiss just to get perks was wrong, and Paris was further proving a point that she could kiss so much better than the gruesome twosome. With the point proven and their entire relationship changed later that night, Rory knew she was onto an undercurrent that she had thought about in passing, but not explored because of her shyness and not wanting to overpower the girl.

Now walking back towards the bed in those Hello Kitty briefs, Rory knew she had Paris in a corner. The few times she had sex and had stroked Jess through his boxers, she knew when he was in the mood. But with Paris it was a lot different. She had to get Paris in the mood through persuasion and a slow burning wooing process that involved both physical and intellectual stimulation.

She knew Paris would enjoy the challenge of Battleship. It was a game which was both strategic and always had a goal. But it was also simple. Strip Sorry! would have been fun, but a game based on the draw of cards was boring. And she knew Monopoly was besides being totally incompatible with a any kind of stripping, kind of a game where blood pressure went up more than sexual desire.

Her pace slow back towards the bed, she sat back down, but was ladylike in crossing her legs, just resting her elbow on the table as she depegged her ships and replaced them. Looking down at the grid to not violate Paris's placement, she knew she had Paris right where she wanted her. Both of them down to panties, someone was going to be nude after the last ship sunk.

If Rory could help it, it would be Paris in that position.

Time to raise the stakes. Knowing what she could do to make the final game in their series interesting, she lifted her eyes from her board and got Paris's attention.

"So we've come to the final game."

Paris nodded. "We have."

"Both of us haven't torn each other's throats off, which I consider an amazing accomplishment...Paris." Her eyes narrowed.

"Hey, that game of UpWords was rigged! There were too many E's and A's, it threw me off--"

"So I'm thinking that the loser is obviously going to be naked."

"Obviously.�

"We need to figure out a proper reward for the winner."

"What are you suggesting? I can do cash."

"I'm not doing cash." Rory sighed. "Geeze, you flash your $20's in Daytona and all the sudden you think you're Bob freakin' Barker."

"Hey, I'm rich, bitch," she replied without enthusiasm.

"Dave Chappelle you're not."

"Do I amuse you? Do I look like a clown?"

"And we're going to move on before I imagine you as Joe Pesci." She shuddered violently. "So the winner of this game? I'm thinking that during the weekend of the Fourth, they get to do whatever they want. You can either suffer in the Hollow, or I'll suffer with you at the vacation home in Rhode Island."

"Rory, noooo. Nooo." Paris held up her hand. "Jacob has become a self-appointed ladies man now. He still remembers you and there is no way I'm going to force you to share 500 feet with him."

"500 feet?"

"He flirted with this girl at Dartmouth and hasn't gotten the hint. Thus, 500 feet by court order."

"You dated him once."

"He was my cousin!"

"As I found out later, thrice removed. You could've--"

Paris closed her eyes tight. "I saw him pee the pool when I was seven and sing about his 'Oscar Mayer weiner'! There is no way I'm dating anyone nearly related to me!"

"I know, but I must kid you about it anyways. If anything the dress did so much for you."

"Oh, shut up." Paris tried to think up her own reward for winning. "If I win, you must abstain from Luke's from fourteen days at a time of my choosing sometime this summer. This includes breakfast, lunch and dinner, along with...coffee. And worse, no Weston's at all as a buffer. Instead, you're going to have to slum it with Cumby's--" Paris stopped, realizing there was some mercy. "No, no, no, that's not cruel enough. You will be stuck for fourteen days receiving your caffeine fix from..." A pause to scare Rory dead, "Dunkin Donuts or XtraMart!"

And with that, Rory knew the gauntlet was laid down. Her face went ghostly pale, and her eyes glazed over in fear.

"You wouldn't dare!!" She snickered at the very idea of her nectar being taken away from her. "XtraMart coffee tastes like turpentine mixed with pig vomit, and that's an insult to those substances!"

"Well I guess you better win or I'm gonna let Lane know how much you suck at Battleship!"

"Mean!" It didn't take long for Rory to figure out her 'reward' for her rival. "Fine. If I win...and I know I will, you're going to have to go forward with that nose piercing you so craved last year. But not only that, you're going to get your belly button pierced."

Paris's eyes bulged. "You wouldn't dare! Come on, it was horrible!"

"Come on, you don't want to go through with it? Are you a chicken?"

"I'm not a chicken. I just know when it's not meant to be."

"It is. Just try it where I want you to go. I promise you that if you somehow come down with yet another infection I'll take very good care of you." She wagged her eyebrows and giggled softly.

"What if I don't want a piercing any more?"

"Oh, you do. I know you do. Especially when you found out how much pleasure Janet gets from her cli--"

"Do not remind me!" Paris blanched as she set up her final ship. "Fine, I'll pierce my nose and something else if I lose. Just makes me want you to drink bad coffee even more."

"Makes me want to see you with a diamond stud in your nose."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Let's play."

"Let's."

The final game of their match began, but despite the strategy game pretty much having as much skill as Guess Who?, both women were eager to sink all five ships.

But they were also both ready to push all ceremony out of the way. The ladies were both hot and horny, their states of undress throwing them off the game in ways they didn't plan. Rory took five shots in a place on Paris's grid no ship was near, while Paris had to take penalty misses for calling out non-existent cells such as N-14 and K-4. Thrown off by tracing certain patterns involving moles and marks scattered across Rory's chest she could help but think that the girl in front of her had turned into a strong woman within the few months of Yale they spent together.

I still can't believe she suggested this, she thought as she made another call, admiring how the young small-town girl had grown into her figure. All those months back she had considered to Rory to be just plain, yet perfect. But showing she was flawed in the aftermath of her relationship with Jess had bonded them closer together. Now she had kissed the girl, but she craved more. She closed her legs together, trying to hold back a spasm of want for Rory for as long as she could.

Rory on the other hand kept one eye to her game board, and the other upon Paris's voluptuous form. Even with it hidden by the plastic board, she continued to admire how her intense friend had changed, and for the better. She had been waiting for a chance to woo the blonde beauty for months, warming fully to the girl as her roommate and as a close confidant. But the kiss had not only ripped away the fire blanket that was her sexuality and revealed it, she felt more relieved than repulsed. Kissing Paris and making out with her has been amazing, Rory rationalized as she went over her grid, knuckle bitten down. She felt her body tighten, her entire form tense and sexual. God, I want this. I want to feel her. I want her to know how I see her, how I feel for her. I really want her to tear these panties with me and make me drink shitty coffee...

I want her to pick out a cute stud and be there to hold my hand when the needle goes though. Paris wasn't thinking any differently. She wanted to end the game and move onto the naughty part of the night.

It wasn't a coincidence that both girls 'adjusted' their panties a bit lower to expose their hipbones. Nor when Paris took a sip of her cold bottle of water and let a few trickles drip from her mouth and just happen to curl around each of her nipples to stiffen them. Rory certainly knew what she was doing as she opened her legs just a bit further, the better for Paris to eye up her slit, the dampness drawing out of her and soaking a thin line of her underwear.

Calls continued to be made, with some hits. But it was becoming clear with each double call that sinking boats was the last thing on their minds. Paris pushed her legs together, drawing a moan from her throat as she called C-8.

"Miss," Rory responded, her eyes nowhere near the board. More misses, and a few hits here and there, the boats not important at all. Paris found her sub fully hit ten minutes later and declared Rory's victory with an almost guttural moan before she claimed the ship.

Fifteen minutes later, both were down to battleships, three pegs in each, the boards almost completely white with misses. Rory was now shamelessly skimming fingers against her mound through her panties, daring Paris to go in.

"You know why I wear these?" Rory asked innocently.

"Out of laundry?"

The brunette shook her head, her hair long out of the ponytail and trailing free across her chest. "Try again."

"Obligation to Lorelai?"

"Nada."

Paris thought one more time. "You enjoy Hello Kitty?"

"Final strike." Rory shook her head, grinning as she let the panties droop just that little bit more to expose the very top of her mound. "It's because Lane gave them to me five years ago for a birthday present." Her face flushed deeply. "A secret one. Everyone thinks she gave me a cute friendship bracelet and a Bible from her mother."

She hovered her eyes over the gameboard. "Indeed, she gave me those. But she also gave me something I can never forget. Something that I can't tell anyone else, and wouldn't have you if she never gave me her blessing."

The blonde's heart beat faster and faster, the grip on her peg slipping until Rory revealed the sentimental reason for wearing her panties thin.

"These are my lucky panties. Literally."

"So. What are you saying?" Paris couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I'm saying on a night after, with Lorelai at the Inn and Mrs. Kim out of town...we were both curious. We were interested. We were hot for each other. TV sucked and the radio was playing incredibly bad music. We went into our room, set up the Battleship set, and then..."

If there was a way to stun Paris Gellar, this would be it. "You and Lane? But she's a good girl. Mostly. But usually she's all Bible-fearing."

"She was also my first kiss. My first make-out partner." The game was almost lost completely. "And in October 1999, she was the first girl I ever made love to after a heated game of Strip Battleship." Rory felt giddy finally getting it off her chest. "In the eyes of God, she's still a virgin. But in my eyes, she was the one who shared her most precious gift with me."

"So you and her." Paris tried to understand. "Lane, little music girl of religious parents. You and her? Who knew?"

"Nobody. Nobody at all. For two years we snuck around the relationship. Just the two of us, kissing, holding hands in our rooms, just finding out how everything works, right under the noses of our mothers. I was broken from a tire swing long before. Lane had diddled her clit and hid the sheets when she began to learn about why she was changing. We didn't bleed that night. We had rubbed pussies, played with each other, kissed each other from head to toe, building up to that one night. She smelled so beautiful when I turned off the night and took off all my clothes except this little pair."

Paris tried to hold her hand back, imagining the Asian rocker kissing her best friend, tongues twining, Her body flushed deeply and she felt herself clench hard, imagining the girl in front of her a few inches shorter. The game was being ignored completely now as Paris let her hand play at the edge of her abdomen, dipping it along the heated skin.

"What did she wear, baby? Did she look beautiful? When she lay on your bed did you think it was the hottest thing you ever saw?" She didn't think things could get any hotter. She wanted to lead Rory in comfortably. "You loved Lane, didn't you?"

"I'd do anything for her. And I did." She began to touch herself, breasts stiffening, her eyelids drooping as she reveled in the memory. "She wanted to see how I looked in them. I wore a skirt which showed them off somewhat in school earlier; it was a Saturday night. She noticed the little kitties on them. She told me she was wet all day and whispered in my ear that she was ready. She got to the house in some kind of Mormony dress, only to take it off. Underneath, skintight black jeans, an aged black Sex Pistols t-shirt that didn't hide her curves at all. I still cum thinking about how she looked that night. How she smelled. How she kissed and slid off the button-down shirt I wore, then the sweater."

"Was she in her glasses?" Paris wondered. "Did you get to see the reflection of her eyes within them?"

"Beautiful eyes," Rory remembered. "Gorgeous ass. Taking down the jeans...grey cotton hip briefs, flattering her small body. Wearing a matching bra...whispered in my ear she wanted me to undress her completely as she was. I obliged. Kissing her all, lathing my tongue across her nipples. God, Paris, it's getting me hot all over again. Thinking of her putting all this trust in me. Of how she took off my clothes, but then she paused as she was about to take these off. She told me I needed to cum in them, and she wanted to feel it in full force. She pushed aside the crotch. I rolled her panties down her hips...the scent of her womanhood, the taste of her, the sounds she makes when she's turned on. She never swore. She never took the Lord's name in vain. Just moaned."

"You played the game then?"

"We did. All nine rounds. But in between each round we made out. We heated up. The sight of each other across the bed, it was overwhelming. We had mini-cums. By the time we finally abandoned the match in round nine both of us were sweaty, damn, fucking needy. Our pussies pounded hard..."

"Like now?"

"Just like now." She grinned. "On her right hipbone, she has a tattoo of a cross, very tiny. She snuck into a parlor a year before, faked 18 and her name to get it."

"Very irresponsible," Paris noted, more with teasing than disdain.

"Very irresistible. Always covers it up with a Band-Aid if Mrs. Kim probes. She'll never know." She pulled her own panties down a little more towards her left side, to expose her own tiny cross. "Mom doesn't know about this either. Got it just after I got the Prius and could get it without any scrutiny in-town."

"Forever connected. Your first love." Paris felt on a hair trigger. "Why did she let go?"

"She didn't let go," Rory asserted. "She will never let go. She's always going to be my best friend and first lover. But we know that in our heart of hearts, we're always gonna be connected. Nobody else can have our virginities. We shared the sandbox, we shared crayons, we shared pens, pencils and notebooks, and we shared music. And we shared each other." She smiled. "We don't need to be together forever to know that our souls are forever wedded."

"What does she think of us then?" Paris asked nervously. "What if she doesn't let go?"

"She has, hon," Rory reassured. "When we ended our relationship a month after that, we opened our hearts to others. Being with her in secret is the most beautiful thing I treasure, outside of the friendships between the three of us. I have enough room in my heart for you, Paris. I promise you." Her eyes shone with desire, and want for the other girl. "Lane is a true free spirit, Par. When she leaves Stars Hollow, she will never leave me. We will always be close. She will always be my best friend, and first lover. She knows she will never have a further relationship with me. Not because it would ruin what we have, but she knew somewhere in my heart that my heart was open to someone else. She is looking for somebody to have her own heart. And hopefully, you'll have me."

Paris's eyes met Rory's, and she knew fully that her friend was telling the truth. She now had a new perspective on Rory Gilmore that she would have never had if things had gone differently. To see Rory as holding a secret love so close to her heart, she understood more how important she was in the girl's life. She cried softly, tears dripping down her cheeks. Her body still heated from the idea of Lane standing aside and letting her have the opportunity to fall in love for Rory. Her body betrayed the emotions telling her to pull away and remember she was playing a board game to get to this step.

One that had brought Rory previously together with her beloved.

She closed her eyes. She knew what she had to do. Standing up, she took the few step towards Rory's bed and moved towards her. She serenely smiled, her eyes reflecting the new clarity that she had.

"Louise and I were each our first sexual partners," she said, bluntly. "But we were never in love. It was awkward, it was awful, and it resulted in the rift we never healed. She thought the next day I was stupid for asking her to have sex to me. I agreed with her." She shook her head, sitting on the bed and taking Rory's hand.

"You're different. I think of you and I see my future," she admitted. "I hate the very thought of losing you. If you ever leave, my heart will wither. I only want you, Rory. It just took me so damned long to admit it." The girls moved closer, eyes focused and hearts fully open.

"I'm 0-0-2 in Strip Battleship officially," Rory pronounced, "Draw?" She kissed Paris softly on the lips.

"Draw. Despite a situation like this not being part of the official rules." Paris softly giggled. "New prize for a draw?"

"Your choice," Rory said. "Anything you want."

"First..." She pushed Rory to the bed as her foot kicked the table behind her and pegs flew all over the floor of the dorm, along with both beds. "We make long, sweet and tiring love all night long, like we should have to begin with. Three and a half years ago."

"That long?" Paris nodded.

"Would I lie about how long I held my heart? Jamie never truly had it. He just loaned it from Rent-A-Center and returned it damaged. So did Asher." She kissed Rory further and further. "I feel safe with you having my heart. I love you, Rory." Her body stretched across that of her girlfriend's.

"I love you too, Paris." She returned further heated kisses, catching up for an oxygen break. "What else?"

"I suppose we're thinking what we do due to the draw?" Rory nodded. "How about...we finally push aside all airs of being separate, share this bed the rest of the year and we make no further plans with the men in our lives?"

"I think that can be arranged," Rory said, winking at the blonde above her. "But that's not much of a reward. That's just stating the obvious."

"You're right. How about..." Paris whispered into Rory's ear, ready to reel back in case the idea would ruin them forever. However the wide grin Rory pushed across her mug suggested more than just a basic favor.

"You really want to? How do you know?"

"Isn't she single? Rebellious? Willing? Do you wonder why when she had to slum it here after her mom kicked her out how she kept looking at me oddly as if she was hiding this need to stare at me while I was in the craft corner and bending down to glue things?"

"Soo...what you're saying is that you didn't really hate Lane when she was here?" Rory was a bit surprised.

"My friend, if I hadn't have had some kind of interest in her, do you think I'd let her have lived here as long as I did? Besides, she got me into some better music than Baroque, I have to admit." Paris stretched out across the bed, her fingers drifting towards the waistband of her panties. "Now that you confessed she was your first, it puts a whole new meaning on what you did when I was out of the room."

"We did nothing," Rory swore. "The both of us haven't done anything for at least three years. Besides, I think she's over her phase."

"Phase?" Paris shook her head. "It's never a phase. Once you've had just one taste of the pleasure of a woman, you love to discover it all over again, even years later. And I know with the right persuasion, especially now that she's breaking the chains of Mrs. Kim she might be wont to rediscover her womanly desires." She chortled as she went further with her theory. "What you don't know is that despite our whole 'you're annoying' banter when you saw us in the dorm, when we had those few moments together, we did talk civilly. We talked about you. And how she talked about you suggests that there still is an opening she wants to broach."

"You think that...no." Rory denied what she felt. "Look, I'm yours now. Lane is part of my past and--"

"Rory, I know you said she's still in love with you and fine with us, but she still has a flame burning for you, and it's strong. I will not stand in the way. Especially since when you were in the Hollow and she could have your bed here one night, she waited until three in the morning to..." She hung the statement, her body heated from the memory of the musical girl only five feet away from her.

"Oh God, really?"

"Her whimpering, the squeaks she made as she fumbled with her panties and tried to keep it down for my sake...Gilmore, she would be so open if we dared to ask her if she wanted to spend the night with us."

"And you're sure. Don't you feel any guilt or shame at all?"

"Never." She kissed Rory, moving her hands down to the girl's curvy ass. "The only reason I never told you before now that I am attracted to her is I was both afraid for your reaction and ashamed that I would think of her like that. Until I knew you were intimate, I thought it was off limits to share that when she was living here, I didn't think about Asher at all. I thought about how I was living with two of the most beautiful women in the world, and they were in my dorm room."

"So you want me. But you also want Lane."

"I want you more."

"I need time to think about this. And especially not now, when we're trying to establish how we're going to go about this."

"Take all the time you need. I promise. For now it's under advisement, but if you decide that you want to pursue this avenue, know that there is no way I'll say no."

"Well it's better making love to my two best friends than drinking crappy coffee," Rory quipped, giggling as Paris tickled her stomach right after. "Paris...hee-hee-hee...stop!"

"Maybe I will get the piercings," Paris asserted, her hand moving forward to cup Rory's crotch through the underwear. "Not like my navel will be exposed to the world 95% of the time."

"So it's my own private gift?"

"Oh, definitely. Mother will never notice it on me. And if she does I'll just say spring break and that'll be the end of it." Smiling at her friend, she then remembered what got them there in the first place. "Y'know, we drew. That means we lose our panties, right?"

"Do we?" Rory flirted with Paris, her fingers caressing the petite girl's hips. "We could just grind with them on."

"I want nothing between us, Ror but the air we breathe," she said uncharacteristically. "Besides, I feel you. You're very, very wet for me."

"Says the girl who smells of sex and sweat when she hasn't stroked her clit once tonight. God, have I told you I love it when you forget your prescription antiperspirant? You're so hot when you smell so raw."

Paris began to slide the panties from Rory's hips, her breasts pressing hard against her lover's body. "Competition is a real turn-on for me. When we had contact sports units in Chilton during phy ed, After those days when I got to take you on, I'd get home and..." She squealed happily. "Let it be said that those long nights getting to know my body are when I love having a private laundry service the best."

"Soaking the bed?"

"That should be our goal tonight," Rory said as if pro-and-conning the situation. Her panties were pushed fully off, and the blonde's own drawers were quickly being pulled off themselves. Nibbling Rory's lower lip, Paris felt it wasn't enough.

"What I want...is for Tanna and Janet to be startled silent when we scream our release. And that means that my curling wand will never be stolen again."

"So your seduction of me is a complicated plan to keep Janet from borrowing your stuff?"

"Oh, yes, totally." She slid her tongue along Rory's upper lip. Her thigh pressing against Rory's slit, she was ready to take the brunette to another plane altogether after so much heavy flirting, getting to feel her lover inside her for the first time. Rory was tantalizing to her, while the taller girl knew she could never get enough of her intense friend. She already looked forward to how Paris's intenseness would manifest within their lovemaking.

Before they gave in fully, Paris as always had the last word.

"Rory?" Her nose touching Rory's, she curled her finger around her nipple.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I sunk your battleship." She laughed evilly, pinching the rosy skin within her knuckle.

"Holy shit, did you ever..." And she fell further into her lust with her roommate, best friend, and new lover.

Although she kind of questioned the next morning why they didn't clean up the game before they gave in, having game pegs all over the bed, with some in places the sun didn't shine, while somehow a plastic figure in the shape of a destroyer ended up wedged between her lips, the tip of the piece sliding pleasurably across her clit...

Next time we just play strip poker, she thought as she draped a blanket across her body, but still laughing at how beautiful her relationship with Paris was becoming.
To be continued?

And it will if you want me to have Paris convince Lane that her and Rory still have unfinished business...which would involve her also. Review and let me know, please.