CHAPTER OOOOONE
Beep. Beep. Beep. Crash!
Logan sat up, startled, as the monotonous beeping of the alarm clock was replaced with a sharp crash. Sure enough, the small electronic box lay in pieces on the wood floor beneath the bedside table. On Rory's side. He rolled his eyes, realizing what had happened. Rory, still feigning sleep, was next to him, a falsely innocent smile plastered on her face.
He bent down and kissed her softly. "That's what," He whispered in her ear playfully, "The eighth one in two weeks?"
Rory tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling. The edges of her mouth twitching upward, she mumbled something about mornings and the devil and covered her face with a large, ploofy pillow.
Logan pulled it out of her hands and placed it next to him, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Ace, I don't know if we can buy another. Every time we walk into a store, the alarm clocks go running, fearing their inevitable death."
"Good." She whined as he stood up, pulling the covers off of her in the process. "They deserve to die. No other small household appliance has ever wished me any harm, except for the alarm clocks. I bet they plan it! Oh yes, mister, don't look at me like that. I am sure that alarm clocks were invented to put me through hell at…" She looked at the large grandfather clock in the corner, "Exactly 7:30 every morning."
Logan was indeed staring at her like she was crazy. Which, it suddenly occurred to him, she was. That was why he loved her so much. "What about Bartholomew?" He asked with a small smirk, opening the door to a rather large walk in closet. "He is slowly killing you, day by day."
Rory held a hand to her heart dramatically and gasped. "You didn't! Bartie would never do anything to me! He is the bringer of life, Logan. He revives the wounds I receive from the alarm clocks!"
Bartholomew was their coffee/cappuccino/espresso-making machine. Logan rolled his eyes, digging through his drawers. "Have you seen my blue shirt?" He asked. No one answered for several seconds, and then he heard a small thump. Poking his head out of the closet, he saw Rory now sitting on the floor.
"Um, you left it under the bed a few nights ago…" She trailed off, leaving him to remember what events had lead up to the hasty removal of his shirt. Smirking, he pulled out a white one instead, and grabbed a tie from the tie rack, and threw them and a pair of black pants onto the bed.
"Look at this!" Rory giggled as he headed to the bathroom to shower, "Black pants, black tie and a white shirt… Wow. That brings me back to the days of orchestra in middle school…"
"Do you have any other suggestions?" He called from the shower, his voice muffled by the running water.
"As a matter of fact, I do." She said. She went into the closet, pulled out a clean blue shirt and a new tie and threw them on the bed. She wrapped herself in a house robe and walked, or rather, trudged, to the bedroom door. "And now I make my leave, for I need my coffee before I expire. See you in a few minutes!"
Stumbling blindly into the large kitchen, she grabbed the pot of coffee (brewed by the maid) and inhaled deeply. She reached up for her favorite mug, the navy blue one with YALE emblazoned proudly on the front, and pulled it down. Much to her dismay, it now bore a large crack near the bolded letters. "Logaaaan!" She called plaintively. "Did you crack my muuug?"
"No!" A voice shouted back, "I'll be out in a minute. Use another one."
She huffed, but pulled another one with a devious grin. She poured herself her coffee, pulled a muffin from the breadbasket and sat down at the counter. Minutes later, Logan appeared, hair still wet from his shower. He automatically reached to the mug shelf to pull one down.
"Ace, when I said get another one, I didn't mean mine." He smirked at her, teasing but playful.
She rolled her eyes. "Then you shouldn't have cracked mine. And don't pretend you didn't, Buster. I can smell guilt on you a mile away."
He laughed. "Hm, my cologne smells like guilt. Good to know." He quickly swiped his mug from in front of her and took a long drink of coffee.
"Evil!" She exclaimed, a happy glint in her eye.
"And that's why you love me." He retorted, pulling her in for a kiss. "I've got to go to work now. Have fun without me home."
Rory grinned. "Ah yes, I have twenty or so male exotic dancers just waiting for you to step outside."
"I knew it!" Logan exclaimed sarcastically. Rory laughed and swatted him on the arm.
"Actually, I have to finish another piece and hopefully get a chapter or two of my book done, so I'm just going to sit at the computer until my eyes bleed."
Logan chuckled and kissed her again. "Have fun with that." He quickly downed the rest of her coffee and headed towards the door, grabbing his suitcase on the way.
"Have a good day, Mr. Huntzberger." She called as he left.
"You too, Ms. Huntzberger-to-be!" He shot back happily, and left her at the counter, staring contentedly at the diamond ring that had been on her finger since just a week ago.