Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and all related characters and places do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Rory Gilmore has never talked about her love life. In fact, she hasn't dated anyone in the past three years. One Saturday in August, I found out why.

Author's Notes: This fic is the product of all the reviews from my other one shot. I really appreciated all the encouragement I got. I hope you guys enjoy this one too. Another note, I've never been to New York, or Connecticut. I have no idea how long it takes to get there, so I'm sorry if the setup is a little unrealistic. Based on the show, it didn't seem to take that long. So for the story's sake, let's assume it takes an hour. If the people on Gilmore Girls can bend the rules of time and make Gigi four when she's supposed to be three, I can bend rules of space.

A Happy Ending

krinaia

"I'm having dinner with him tonight."

Rory Gilmore looked at me incredulously, her blue eyes widening. "But but but… but why?"

I fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well he has changed, you have to admit. Just because I broke up with him doesn't mean I stopped loving him. He's, well, he's my Adam."

Rory didn't look convinced. I didn't expect she would understand right away. I was actually a little afraid to tell her, but I couldn't not tell Rory something this big.

When I first came to work in New York, I was a small town girl, struggling up the corporate ladder. I wanted to be a big time screen writer. At the interview for my first real job, I met Rory. I remember the day distinctly. I was waiting in line for coffee in the waiting room, and was so nervous, I ended up pouring some of the coffee on the floor instead of my cup. Rory waved me over as I moved to a seat and motioned I should sit beside her. "You look as nervous as I feel," she stated, smiling at me. "I'm Rory. Rory Gilmore," she said, extending her hand. I learned Rory was a small town girl herself, and we were both alone and pretty much friendless in New York. We became friends.

Three years later, Rory and I were fellow producers at a TV station. The jobs we occupied were our stepping stones. I wanted to be a screen writer; she wanted to be an overseas correspondent. We were pretty much alike in our dedication to our job, but we did differ on one thing. I constantly dated, taking advantage of the nightlife in the Big Apple. Rory didn't. She'd go out with us maybe once or twice a month after work, but that was it. She was very secretive when it came to her love life. It came as a shock when she started discussing it.

"I'm worried you're setting yourself up to fall," Rory said worriedly. "I mean, I dated a player once before, and relationships like those rarely end well."

"Don't do that, don't stereotype him. He's not just a player-"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure he has a sensitive, deeper side, and he's only that way because he was mistreated as a child-"

That made me mad. "I don't know why you just can't be supportive!"

"I can't be supportive of something he's clearly not ready for! I see how much you hurt every time he messes things up and-"

"How do you know he's not ready?! You don't know him like I do Rory!"

"He keeps a million girls on speed dial! He dated three other girls only last week! Trust me, I know when a player has changed, and Adam hasn't," Rory insisted. "He hit on the girl by the photocopying machine only yesterday!"

Infuriating. Honestly. "Look, Adam's just friendly. You know that. Some people think it's flirting but it's not. And those girls, those were just friends-"

Rory snorted. "Oh please."

"It's true!"

"Oh really? Who told you that? Adam?"

"Yes." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. It's your life. Do what you want. But don't come crying to me when he cheats on you again." She put her fork down and called a waiter. "Bill please?"

We sat in silence till the waiter came. Rory inserted a credit card in the folder. I bit my lip. "Look, I don't want to fight."

She nodded. "Neither do I."

"Let's compromise then. I won't get too invested in this thing."

"How?"

"I will… wear the perfume he hates. I think that says I'm not going to make it easy for you. And I will play jazz in the car. He hates jazz."

Rory grinned. "That just might do the trick. Oh, and to make it worth your while, make him take you some place really expensive," she said mischievously.

I laughed. "Any recommendations?"

"A few, but the restaurants I know are all, well, in Connecticut," she said.

"Oh that's all right, it sounds perfect actually. A bit of a road trip will be nice. You know how much he loves to drive."

"Show of his car more like it," Rory mumbled, while scribbling down a few names on a napkin.

"Excuse me?"

Rory looked up and smiled. "I said I'm going to Connecticut."

"Oh really? Why?"

Rory shrugged. "My family's based there. I like spending time with them once in a while."

"Well, now I have a friend to call and place to crash if the date goes bad," I joked, tucking the napkin in my purse.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but your credit card was denied," said a man in a ridiculous gold suit. His name tag read Manny. Manny the Manager.

Rory took the credit card. "Oh, I forgot I maxed this one out yesterday." She rummaged around in her purse for her wallet. "Oh shoot, no cash."

"I can run up and get mine, it's in the office-"

Rory shook her head. "No, it's my turn to pay." She looked at her wallet thoughtfully. "Here. Try this one," she told the manager pulling out an American Express Black Card.

I looked at her in disbelief. "Why do you have that? How can you have that?" This was bizarre. "With what they pay us?"

Rory only grinned. "I have a secret life as a criminal mastermind. Don't tell."

I stood on the curb, mascara running down my face. So walking out of the restaurant and telling Adam to get out of my life wasn't the greatest idea. Or at least, it was a good idea, but a bad time. I was stuck in a place I was completely unfamiliar with. My pathetic joke came back to haunt me. I definitely did jinx it. I wiped away the tears on my face, and pulled out my cell phone. She picked up after three rings.

"Rory?" I tried to keep my voice from wavering to no avail.

"Stacey? Oh gosh Stacey." I could hear the sadness in her voice. "Date went bad?"

I sniffed. "Worse than bad."

"Where are you? I'll come and get you right now."

"I'm outside the restaurant you told me about."

"I'll be right there."

Rory arrived fifteen minutes later. I nearly started crying again when I saw her come towards me.

"Come on Stace, let's go." She took my arm, and lead me to her car. "Home Frank," she called out.

I was completely dazed as Rory lead me out of the car, and into the house. When we entered, a man was waiting in the living room. Rory spoke to him for a minute, and lead me upstairs.

"You can sleep here tonight, and Frank can bring you back to New York in the morning," she said. "Let me go get some clothes for you, and then we'll talk."

I woke up to an unfamiliar room. Definitely not in Kansas anymore. I suddenly felt as if I fell into the set of Dynasty. Or was transported into Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. There were matching Tiffany lamps on the night stands. Custom made furniture. A plasma TV. Surround sound.

Oh god. I rode here in a limo.

The door swung open, and a maid, with a tray of breakfast came in. I saw bacon, eggs, and French toast, and a pot of coffee. Rory knew me well. "Mrs. Huntzberger thought you might have wanted some breakfast," she chirped at me. "Is there anything you wanted or needed in specific?"

A maid? Mrs. Huntzberger? I shook my head. A rich aunt of Rory's maybe. Or maybe her maternal grandmother. The maid nodded, and smiled at me again. God the woman's cheeks seemed to be frozen like that.

"Mrs. Huntzberger said she'd join you shortly. Are you sure I can't get you anything else? A newspaper maybe?"

"Oh, yes there is one thing. Do you know where Rory is?"

The maid looked confused. At least it stopped her from smiling if nothing else.

"Mrs. Huntzberger will be here in a minute."

"Oh. Thank you, I suppose."

"Enjoy your meal." The ear-to-ear grin was back on her face again.

I tried to wrap my mind around what she was saying as I ate my eggs. Last night, I hadn't noticed anything, too deep in my depression to notice. But now…

"Knock knock," Rory called as she walked in. "Feeling better?" she asked kindly.

"Yeah," I answered, distracted. "All right missy, time for serious explanations. Am I really in a mansion, or was I completely drunk on my way here?"

Rory grinned sheepishly, and sat at the foot of my bed. "I believe you were sober, and yes, you are in a mansion."

"So you're… rich."

"I suppose you could say that."

"And married."

"Yes."

"And…" my head was starting to hurt. "And why didn't I know any of this? Why doesn't anyone in the office know? Why are you working at all? And at that job? I thought you came from Star's Hollow!"

"Okay, screechy, want to keep it down a notch?"

I stared. "I don't think I drank much last night, but it sure does feel like I have a hangover. Rory what is going on?"

Rory sighed. "It's a long story."

"I've got nothing but time. It's Saturday."

She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Ok then. My life in a nutshell. My mom came from a pretty wealthy family in Hartford, my dad too. My mom got pregnant at sixteen, and ran away from home when I was a baby. I grew up in Star's Hollow. I got into this really great school, called Chilton, but we couldn't afford it, so my mom went to my grandparents for the money. My grandparents wanted me to have, well what they thought was good for me. So I had a coming out party, they introduced me to all their friends' sons, you get the picture.

When I got into Yale, I met Logan. And well," Rory shrugged. "Boy meets girl, they date, he goes away to London, they break up, they get back together after he gets psychotically jealous of a new boyfriend, they get married, and live in boy's mansion and have two kids."

"You have kids?" This was surreal.

Rory smiled. "Two. Christopher Mitchum, and Lorelai Juliet. Chris and Lori for short. Six and four respectively."

"And you're Mrs. Huntzberger. As in the Huntzbergers who own most of the newspapers in the country?"

"Yes."

"As in the newspaper magnates? The billion dollar empire?"

"Yes."

"As in Mitchum Huntzberger?"

Rory gave an amused laugh. "Sorry, you got this one wrong. Mitchum Huntzberger is my father-in-law. I'm married to his son, Logan."

Something clicked in my memory. "I remember reading something about him. In the papers. Wasn't he in some kind of boating accident in Fiji? A really long time ago, maybe eight years ago?"

Rory smiled. "Yeah, that was him. Well, why don't you come down and have coffee with Logan and me. You can wash up in the bathroom over there, feel free to use anything you want."

I came down and felt like I was transported into a magazine cover. I couldn't equate the picture of Rory Gilmore, executive, and Lorelai Huntzberger, family woman. Rory looked up at me from her newspaper. "Oh good you're here. Stacey," she said, standing up from the table. "This is my husband, my Logan, and my two kids, Mitch and Lori. Logan, Mitch, Lori, this is Mommy's friend from work, Stacey."

I received token greetings from the two kids. Logan stood up, and extended a hand. "Good to finally put a face to the name. Rory's told me a lot about you," he smiled.

"I wish I could say the same," I answered. "I've read a lot about your father though. He's a great man."

"Yes he is," Logan replied, smile fading a little.

"Although I suppose you're sick of hearing that by now," I apologized.

"A little bit, but I have to admit the man's earned it. So Stacey, tell me," Logan grinned, putting an arm around Rory as he sat down. "What is Rory like at work? Does she have an actual cubicle or just a fort made out of crates? She doesn't hog all the coffee in the break room does she?"

"Logan!" Rory playfully smacked him on the arm.

"Ace, you don't let me go within a 10 mile radius of your office, or introduce me to any of your office mates! The least you can do is let me ask her," Logan said silencing his wife.

"Mom, did you sign the letter for school?" Mitch asked Rory.

"It's very Devil Wears Prada. Except Meryl Streep wears pants and Louis Vuitton loafers." I said absent-mindedly, and watched as Rory teased her young son.

"Letter? What letter?"

Mitch's eyes widened. "The letter for the fieldtrip!"

"Oh that letter!"

"Mo-om!" he whined. "I told you yesterday! I need to give it to my teacher or I won't get to go on the fieldtrip!"

"Fieldtrip? What fieldtrip?"

"Mo-om!"

Lori giggled. Rory smiled. "Yes, Mitch, I put it in your bag." Rory looked up at me. "What are you staring at?"

I grinned. "You. I can't believe you're a mom. Or a wife, for that matter!" I told her, glancing at Logan.

Logan smirked and started playing with Rory's hair. "She's embarrassed of me. Can't imagine why. I'm handsome, rich, charming, a brilliant businessman-"

"Modest too, isn't he a keeper?" Rory interjected. "Not very punctual though, or he would have noticed that is-"

"Stop it time lady, I have a watch, I know what time it is," Logan answered. "Mitch, why don't you go grab your bag and I'll drop you off."

Mitch looked at his father suspiciously. "I thought Frank was taking me."

"You don't want me to drive you?"

"But you said you hated bringing me to school. You tell mom every time we come back that you're never going to go again because of all the donations and parents activities you get roped into," Mitch said rolling his eyes.

"I thought I'd borrow the mask you wore last Halloween," he answered, standing up and ruffling his son's hair. "Or maybe those fake glasses with a big nose and mustache. Go get your bag."

He stood up, picking up his briefcase and kissing Rory on the forehead. "I'll drop Mitch off then I'm meeting Philip and Colin for brunch. I'll be back at eleven, twelve at the latest, depending on how much food Philip eats."

"Tell the guys hi for me. Go do your brunch," Rory said, wiping Lori's mouth. "No more hotdog lipstick, sweetie," she admonished her daughter.

"Try cucumber on your eyes if you want to play with food Lor," he said, kissing the top of his daughter's head. "It was nice meeting you Stacey."

"Kiss your mom good-bye before you head out kid," Logan called as he picked up his keys and walked out the door.

Mitch came in toting a huge backpack, and kissed Rory on the cheek. "Bye mom."

Father and son left the kitchen.

"So that was Logan Huntzberger."

"That was my Logan," Rory smiled, taking a sip from her coffee cup. "Hold on. Amy?" she called. "Could you get Lori ready?"

"Of course, Mrs. Huntzberger," she said, leading Lori out of the room.

"Ok. Family time done. Friend time now," Rory said, putting her hand over mine. "So how are you?"

I saw it then.

"I can't believe I never noticed that before!"

"Noticed what?"

"That enormous ring! Gilmore, how rich exactly are you? And why have you been hiding the fact that you're married! Married to a multi-millionaire at that."

Rory touched her ring. "Well, I wear the ring on a chain around my neck when I'm at work."

"And you keep it a secret because…?"

"I thought it'd be obvious. No one would take me seriously as a journalist. I mean, even though I dreamed of being a journalist since I was in kindergarten, and worked my butt off to get into Chilton, and Yale…" Rory gave a small sad smile. "Either people think I got the jobs I got because of Logan, and don't take me seriously, or worse resent me. So I started fresh in New York, using my maiden name, to work. During all of Logan's social events, DAR gatherings, and charity functions, I use my real married name. Lorelai Huntzberger. Well, Rory, because it gets confusing when my mom is there. Rory Huntzberger."

"Plus 'Lorelai Huntzberger'," I repeated. "What a mouthful. I can't believe you named your kid that."

"Hey! Lorelai was my mother's name! And besides, it's impressive and pretentious. She can get into Yale with a name like that."

"It's amazing. I can't believe I didn't figure this out before. You never go out with us after work. You never dated anyone, even though Andy from marketing kept asking you out. You have three Birkin bags for heaven's sake!"

I shook my head. "This is so surreal. You have two lives. You're like wonder woman. You balance a career in New York and a family in Hartford, and somehow neither of them affects the other. Do you go home everyday?"

Rory nodded. "Well, sometimes we stay in New York when the kids are on vacation."

"And you never get tired of it?"

"It's a lot of work, I won't lie. But it's everything I ever wanted. This, my work, my kids, my Logan, all make me happy."

She turned her head to look at a small blond girl with large blue eyes in a pink tutu.

"It's my happy ending."

Author's Note: Review? Please?