A/N: Thanks to jenn for alerting me of the error I had in the Lucky Charms jingle!

Conceived Deception

1: Newsroom Hullabaloo

"Oh, it's you," was the only comment made in response to Rory's return which culminated in what appeared to be her lifeless body lying on the couch.

"I hate finals," the prostrate figure groaned.

Satisfied that signs of life were present, Paris returned to her work, "Says the person who has taken her last one of the term."

"Like cramming them all into three days versus the normal five is easy?"

"I don't know what you're complaining about Gilmore. Your responsibilities for the next two days are minimal where as I still have the worst of my exams left to go. Stop gripping."

Rory mumbled something under her breath which caused an outburst. "Break? How can you even suggest taking a break to me? I have to finish cramming in the next twenty minutes, put in my time at the paper, and then – what are you doing?"

"The paper," Rory said as she gathered up her carelessly discarded messenger bag and headed for the door. "Thank god you reminded me, or else I wouldn't have and that would have been awful."

Paris let out a frustrated sort of groan as her roommate shut the door while still muttering about possible misfortunes.

Exactly twenty-five minutes later Paris entered the newsroom and continued to her desk, all the while being assaulted by the sound of the entire staff being hard at work on the last issue of the year – even Huntzberger appeared to be working. As she was settling in to polish the religion article that was going to be placed on the front page, Doyle, who had been observing his dedicated workers, marched out of his office a determined look on his face. Seeing that he was headed her way, Paris began switching on her computer and pulling out her notes, preparing the update he would be demanding from her shortly.

"Gilmore!" Doyle barked, not even sparing a glance for the woman he'd been sleeping with for the past month.

Rory's compulsive pencil tapping ceased instantly. "Doyle."

"Don't you have anything to work on? Or haven't you noticed that everyone else is contributing to the paper going out with a slam bank finish?" Hell, even Huntzberger's found a way to make a contribution."

Rory stood up out of annoyance, "First off Doyle, I handed my article for the issue last week. Second, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your mandatory desk time. And thirdly, I would wait for proof before crediting Logan with doing anything selflessly, as a favor to anyone unless getting something out of it isn't, at the very least, a possibility."

Luckily one of the other writers came to take the boss away, Doyle sent her a somewhat pointed look before allowing himself to be pulled away. Rory was then faced with Logan looking ruefully up at her. She attempted to change her expression to one of haughtiness and forced it to remain there as she reached for her ringing phone.

"Lorelai Gilmore."

"Bad day?" the caller asked.

"What was your first clue?" Rory asked as she settled back into her chair, swiveling to face the wall behind her.

"You mean, besides the use of your whole name in a tone freakishly like my mother's?" Lorelai didn't wait for an answer, "Shouldn't this be a happy day, what with no finals to study for? Not to mention anticipation of our long awaited mother-daughter shopping extravaganza!"

"Well someone is obviously excited about it," Rory commented. The hint of mockery in her voice caught the attention of the people passing by. Namely Logan on his way to the printer.

"You mean you're not?" Lorelai's tone was that of a person highly offended.

"Yes, that would explain it's presence in my planner, however," the younger Gilmore spun around and flipped the page, "It's accompanied by hearts and stars."

"Horseshoes, clovers, and blue moons, pots of gold, rainbows, and the red balloon?"

"Unfortunately no."

"You disappoint me, Rory. I specifically told you that when your subconscious begins making references to cartoons created from comic genius you should never be a fifty percenter, either related to it in full or not at all."

"Well," Rory stated out slowly, "I believe the established rule is that each reference is allowed one blunder as a test to its level of usefulness in applicability." Catching sight of a certain blond on route toward her she took a moment to consider the next words she spoke. "It was our first time trying that one; maybe we just need some practice."

"Ew! You're my daughter, gross."

The giggle that erupted from Rory at her mother's refusal to hear anything with sexual implications from her (the exact one she had been counting upon) caused Logan to pause. She responded to his quirked eyebrow with a casual shrug that, strangely enough, sent him on his way.

"I'm safe to assume that remark was not made to benefit me but someone else." There was a pause and when her daughter didn't interrupt Lorelai went on, "Having assumed correctly I will go as far as to declare it was used to get the attention of a certain charmer I like to refer to as Limo Boy."

"Yes, well, charm is relative; you of all people should know that."

"It's not like I was accusing you of liking him," Lorelai said, a smile on her face at her daughter's flustered response.

"I have to go," Rory told her mother, desperate to avoid what was coming as long as possible.

"Where's the fire?"

"There's no fire," Rory told her firmly. "I just have places to go, and people to see. You're familiar with the concept, right?"

"People?" Lorelai asked intrigued, "What people? Do I know them? More importantly, do I like them?"

"I'll let you know Friday."

She promptly put the phone in its cradle, knowing the lack of negotiation time would fuel her mother's indiscrete prodding. Rory let out a lamented sigh as she picked up her bag and switched off her blank computer screen, she then stole from the news room, intentionally ignoring Doyle's yells about getting his full hour.