Chances Are
By trory-goddess
"Sometimes the best things in life are the things that you don't know are the best things until they've bested you."
A/N: Well, here's my little contribution to the R/L fanfiction world. It picks up right from the point where AS-P left us wondering what happened in "The Party's Over" between the re-entrance into the Gilmore pool house and Rory emerging from the limo. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please leave feedback!
CHAPTER I: Limousine Lush
"You're so handsome."
Logan glanced down at the slurring girl petting his face with his arm slung loosely around her waist and grinned, stifling the beginnings of a chuckle.
"You're so drunk."
Rory smiled lazily.
"Heh…probably. But it's pretty fun. Besides…this way I'm doing something reckless with my life -- 'something stupid, something bad for me…something different'…"
He beamed at her quoting his exact words to her from days prior.
"Yep, and you're gonna have the reckless hangover to go with it tomorrow, I promise you."
"Oh I dunno…Finn's Passion of the Christ seems to be a pretty good cure-all for the most common ails that afflict the human soul," she blathered absent-mindedly.
"How are you even making sense right now? The alcohol's practically seeping out your ears as we speak."
"Hey…I have you to blame for that, mister…and no one ever said I was a stupid drunk…perhaps a little tipsy and misguided, but never unintelligent. It's one of my strong suits."
"Oh is it?"
"Mm."
"Hm."
Rory took a minute to reflect on the night's events; well, she'd broken up with her "boyfriend", Dean, in front of all her mating ritual guests, for one -- she'd seen a pretty pathetic yet all-be-it entertaining and sacrilegious re-enactment of a rather depressing and gory Biblical film -- and then there was the whole whooping and hollering drunkard fest going on in the back of what appeared to be Logan's limo to cap off the evening as a twisted success. Life had funny ways of letting one know you can find joy in the little things.
"They're singing again," she observed randomly, lifting her head from its resting place on his shoulder.
"Yeah…I think they might've even gotten more off-key," he returned, his face taking on a pained expression.
"How did that happen?"
"No idea…we should probably join in, or else we'll end up looking like a couple of wallflower Prozac junkies, complete with miles of emotional baggage and embittered pseudo-romantic anecdotes."
"Oh and we can't have that…whatever would we tell our parents?"
"Eh, probably the same thing I tell them now -- which would be nothing, or at least a distorted version of the truth."
"Just like what you told your dad about crashing his yacht, I'm sure…"
Logan smiled at her, his curiosity piqued.
"How'd you find out about that?"
"I have my sources…reliable, for all intents and purposes. And besides -- I'm tracking you, remember?"
The two exchanged a pleasant grin and proceeded to pick up from the second verse of "Fernando".
Pulling up to Rory's residence in Stars Hollow, Logan reached over and opened the limo door for her, various rambunctious sounds and anonymous body parts leaking out from it and the now-permanently-ajar sunroof.
"You okay there, Ace," he shouted uneasily over the racket at the sight of her stumbling out of the vehicle.
"Oh, I'm okay…" she drawled, though her wobbly limbs, lopsided dress and gloriously-undone hair-do spoke volumes to the contrary.
Seeing that she was about to sprain her ankle in a rather messy way, Logan moved quickly to catch her around the waist and assist her to the door.
She'd straightened out some once they reached the porch and was finally able to stand on her own, facing him.
"Thanks Logan."
"Hey, it's your first day with the new set of legs, I had to throw you a bone…no big deal," he jested with his infectious smirk.
Rory smiled and tried to hide her facial blush in the dim lighting.
"No I meant…you know…for everything. The sub-party, The Bucking-Up Ensemble, the champagne…the show tunes…"
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, tilting his head and still grinning.
"Well we have been dating for a year and a half…it's the least I could do…and it's not like I didn't have a few selfish motives stashed away in there somewhere."
"Motives, you say?"
"Oh sure -- I'm almost positive Colin, Finn and I could turn out a sweet profit if your rendition of 'Rain On My Parade' and other famous Barbara hits ever went public."
She snorted gracelessly.
"HA!…like I'd ever be drunk enough to agree to something like that."
"You never know…I have my ways, secret ways. Damn near untraceable."
"Well color me impressed," she continued the glib banter, folding her arms across her stomach.
Then came the conversation lull, in which she had too much time to contemplate how close she was standing to Logan's face and how weak his sable-brown stare made her feel. His constant smirking didn't help either. Oh, and there was the fact that he'd just leaned in and kissed her on the cheek then grazed his thumb over it…she was already a smoldering inferno of emotions, why not add some kerosene?
"Take care of yourself, Ace."
Her ankles buckled under the weight of her light-headedness, but she tried to disguise at a shift in her position.
"Oh I will," she assured him, giving a tight smile.
For crying out loud…did he really have to just stand there, smirking and staring her into hypnosis, I mean, was it really necessary?
Before she even knew what she was doing, she'd grabbed the lapels of his jacket and was kissing him thoroughly on the mouth. It took him a moment to reciprocate, given the sudden urgency of her actions, but as he'd been told before many times in his life, he was a fast learner, and he let her cradle his face in her hands while set his loosely on the sides of her arms.
Once her tongue had made a languid excavation into the far recesses of his mouth, and his likewise, she put a stop to the festivities and pulled back, staring at him wide-eyed and out of breath.
"Whoa…"
"Something like that, yeah," he agreed, the grin resurfacing.
"I'm sorry -- I'm so, so sorry, I'm such an idiot, Rory you're such an idiot, why would I do something like that, I barely know you," she chided herself, trying to return to what society would call respecting one's personal space.
Logan chuckled, re-stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"That may be true, but there's nothing to be sorry about."
"There isn't?"
"Of course not…what just happened here is a very important and worthwhile step in the right direction."
"Oh I can't wait to hear this one…"
"You have your first official Dumb Shit-faced Moment…ready for documentation and storage in the Lush Archives. You should be proud."
"The Lush Archives? Really…" she said, her voice tinted with doubt.
"I know I am, since I got front row seat, tangible and literal in-your-face action."
She opened her mouth to say something, but he caught her on instinct.
"Don't worry Ace…never leaves this porch, drunk Scout's honor," he swore, briefly raising his index and middle fingers in salute.
Rory managed a smile, her embarrassment being assuaged momentarily.
"Then how would it make it into the Archives? I thought it was a momentous point in human history."
If she'd ever conceived that his smirk could get more tempting, now would be that time.
"You don't think we use peoples' real names, do you?"
"Oh don't tell me it's strictly for the privileged Life and Death Brigade…then I'd have to join."
"Baby steps, Gilmore," he warned informally over his shoulder then headed back to the limo, looking back at her every now and again to toss her some complimentary smirks before disappearing into the hilarity.
She made a mental note to call her grandparents the next day and thank them for throwing the party.
Okay then folks. Hope you liked the first installment. Unlike my other fics, it should be updated fairly soon, so stay alert! R&R!