Let's Get Married

by madge3210

Post 'Partings'. RoryLogan London, Logan's POV.

1. Chapter 1

Let's Get Married

Logan sat in meetings, feigning interest in the monotony that pretended to be words drip from his father's lackey. His fingers tapping out an old Sonic Youth song Rory was obsessed with a few months ago, he snuck a covert glance at the face of his watch. The hands mocked him, almost moving backwards time passed so slowly. The numerals registered with him as the realization of what his girl would be doing at the exact moment his soul died a little bit more in a London boardroom. 2:47 pm, which for Rory meant her sixth cup of coffee cart coffee, excluding the half-pot she made every morning at their apartment. The annual report laid out on the wood in front of his eyes, with absent-minded doodling in the margins, slowly shifted into the marble countertops in their kitchen, where Rory would always put his coffee mug out for him, after stealing a few sips. His hands almost reached out to cup the mug that she bought for him on a whim, with Angelina Jolie's face plastered all over it, her idea of sneaking pop culture into his life. Alternatively, the coffee mug he purchased for her had Pushkin and Dostoevsky. For Logan, it was these tiny little details that made their relationship for him, how she loved that he bought a trivial cup for her, even though they both knew he could give her the world.

A vibration against his chest, which Logan almost mistook for his quickening pulse, snapped him out of his Rory reverie. He discreetly slid his thin cell phone out of his jacket pocket, and flipped it open underneath the table, almost as if he was a grammar school student again, afraid of the teacher. An envelope whizzed around his screen, alerting him to his new text message. He punched in his access code, 2-2-3, which spelled out 'Ace', and scrolled through the message.

Angie's lonely and so am I. Don't let your soul get too sucked today. Fish and chips. Ace.

Somehow, she knew exactly what he was thinking about. She always did. Her 'fish and chips' was their own short-hand 'I love you', something Rory had devised to make him feel better about talking to her in the office filled with his father's sycophants, although he knew she also loved slipping into her atrocious British accent during their conversations.

He typed a response on the tiny keypad.

Maybe it's time to add K-Fed to the collection. Dinner tonight? Fish and chips, my Ace, fish and chips.

As a result of living with her, he slowly began to understand the quick fire references and obscure comments she threw his way. He first though it was one of her tests, trying to suss out whether or not he was truly worthy of her. Logan Huntzberger did not fail tests, at least examinations posed by a pretty girl. However, he had come to enjoy their banter and the development of their own language, which separated them from the real world. His comment about dinner referenced the routine they had created the first night he was in London away from her. They switched off picking the restaurant, the movie and who called whom. When Logan walked into his flat that first night, he found meticulous notes on the various ethnic restaurants within a 10 mile radius of his home, a result of Rory cajoling his secretary into taste-testing every single one. She explained away this quirk, telling him it was not only useful, but a tradition to 'Lorelai' one's new dining options. When it was Rory's turn to pick, she usually stuck with Chinese and a trio of themed movies. Logan fell into the habit of ordering her favorite for himself, just so he felt a little bit closer to her as they both picked through their Szechwan chicken. However, their routine was frequently interrupted by Mitchum requiring Logan's presence at business dinners that usually turned into after-dinner drinks and entertainment. Logan truly only felt alone on Fridays, when Rory was at her grand-parents' and he was stuck watching BBC, which only made him miss Rory's 'four-time' rule for inane British comedies. One time, Rory left him on the phone and 'took' him to Friday night dinner, just because he missed hearing people speak without accents and fawn over his every move simply because of his last name.

The hardest thing about London for Logan, besides waking up alone every morning, had been settling into the office and the lifestyle of said position. From the minute he set foot in the building that first morning, he felt watched and slightly insecure. Here were people whose salaries depended on their degree of reverence and hero-worship of Mitchum, actually now Logan. He wasn't used to the responsibility of even setting the alarm clock, much less the livelihood of a paper. That first day made him realize why Rory couldn't tell him not to go to London; there were certain tutorials that were made available solely through atmosphere and environment, and Old Blighty was going to teach him how to grow up.

At the moment, Logan still felt much like a child mistakenly seated at the adults' table for Thanksgiving rather than the heir apparent to one of the most powerful media conglomerates in the world. People talked above him, at him, around him, but no one bothered to speak to him. His own co-workers were too shy to walk into his office to ask him for a minute, even his 'minutes' were prearranged by his secretary. His thoughts drifted back to the meeting concerning the paper's previous numbers; his head suddenly cocked with an idea. "This column, circulation, I'm not particularly fond of numbers with so few zeros. What's our online readership?" A muffled reply met with his ears as the men beside him shifted slightly in their plush seats. "All right, I propose a solution: I want a meeting with our layout and content editors, as well as our web design team. If print media is old-fashioned and out-of-touch with the digital age, then we'll modernize and capture an entirely new market. Excellent work, ladies and gentlemen, have a good day." Pleased with himself, Logan strode from the room, happy that he could feel like he made a tangible contribution.

Fiddling with his laptop in his office, Logan clicked off the screen-saver of him and Rory at her twenty-first birthday party. It was a candid photo, taken however by Emily's professional photographer, but to him it captured who 'they' were. Facing each other, lost deep in pools of sapphire and mocha, Rory had unconsciously held Logan's hand to her heart as if to tell him "This is yours. I trust you enough to take care of it". Occasionally, he felt pangs in his heart when he thought back to the times when he had broken that fragile thing she had entrusted him with, but deep down he knew that his own heart had shattered right along with hers. But it was because he ached that he could tell her he loved her and mean it, mean it with every single fiber in his body. Logan had long since figured out that his heart was mended with parts of Rory's, binding them together indelibly. His gaze shifted to a frame on his desk of their infamous jump, the leap that signified so much more than a stupid stunt for him. The minute she placed her smaller hand in his, he knew this was it.

A knock brought him back to the cool white walls of his office. "Yes?" he called to the heavy oak door. A man, not much older than himself, hesitantly crossed the threshold and stood in front of Logan's desk. "Sir, I apologize for interrupting you, I was, I was just…" the man trailed off, losing confidence with every word.

"Hold on", Logan said, moving to get up and circle around his desk to greet the first brave soul to enter his domain.

"Okay, much better", he said as he stood next to the slightly sweating man. "I'm Logan, by the way, and you are…", offering his hand to the stranger. The man shifted nervously, unsure of what to do exactly with his boss' proffered hand.

"Paul", he finally answered, "Paul Ganay, the web designer."

"Pleasure Paul, please have a seat." Logan gestured to the squashy chair as he sat down in the accompanying one.

"Well, Logan, sir, I've come to see you about the meeting you scheduled for tomorrow, about the web page? I'm terribly afraid that I won't be available at that time, sir." He gulped, a little worried about Logan's reaction.

"Is that all, Paul? Why didn't you just tell my secretary to reschedule at a better time for you?" Logan questioned amiably.

"Blimey mate, you don't tell the mighty Logan Huntzberger to reschedule!" At this, Logan laughed and was genuinely amused at Paul's utterly honest response.

"Okay, Paul, why will you have to reschedule tomorrow's meeting?"

"Well, you see, tomorrow is September 28th. I always feel a bit too manky to make it into work on September 28th."

"Interesting Paul, and what activities on September 27th make work impossible before noon?"

"Newman. He is, quite honestly, an act of God cloaked in a jumper." Paul shrugged his shoulders apologetically at the idea of Newman, his best mate.

"You have a Finn! Of course, of course. I completely understand. Don't even bother coming in tomorrow if you have to bail him out of jail". At Logan's statement, Paul was incredulous that his boss not only seemed to understand his predicament, but find it mildly entertaining.

"A Finn, Logan? You going to have a good fry with me and eat me with some chips?" Paul jested lightly.

"No, Finn's one of my best friends from home. He's absolutely insane and has caused many a day of inactivity fueled by lots of vodka", Logan offered, chuckling at Paul's humor.

"Has your mate ever tried to scale the gates at Buckingham Palace stark naked save for a Bulgarian flag he nicked from their cricket team at the pub?" Paul challenged.

"Please. I don't even need a complete sentence to top that. Yacht. Fiji. Finn. Indonesian coast guard. Titanic", Logan countered.

"Bloody hell, the poor lady, destined to an early watery grave by such inept midshipmen!" Logan laughed and was happy Paul followed his train of thought. Logan genuinely liked Paul, liked that he wasn't intimidated enough by Logan's last name to forget that he was only twenty-three and not geriatric like others in his position.

Paul scooted forward to Logan's desk to spin a picture around. It was a black and white still of Rory laughing, except the photographer had left her eyes colored, a deep and brilliant blue that outshone any gemstone Logan had ever seen. She didn't know he had it, and would have been resolutely embarrassed to know that Logan had a picture of only her. However, Logan happened to know the photog quite well, seeing that it was Finn who managed to coax Rory into posing for his portrait midterm. Logan could almost hear her laugh whenever he gazed into the portrait, hear the melodious tones and see how her eyes flashed, her nose slightly crinkled and her lips parted to form a smile.

Paul let out a low whistle and looked approvingly at Logan. "Now mate, tell me where you're hiding this lovely lady here in Londontown".

"Back at Yale, I'm afraid. She's a senior Journalism major and editor of the Yale Daily News", Logan grew a little sad at the mention of Rory's physical location, even though she was never far from his thoughts or heart.

"And does this fantastic-looking bird have a name? A phone number? An older sister, perhaps?" Paul's joking remarks made Logan feel like his friends were lounging around his office, discussing the fairer sex.

"Rory, her name is Rory. As for the number, I'm terribly sorry, but the only one I have for her is the one to our apartment back at Yale. She does, however, have a very attractive and young mother." Logan laughed again, relieved that someone in his office cared about more than securing his business card.

"Ah. Living with her? But no ball and chain, as you Americans say? Pity about the mother, I don't think my girl would be keen on sharing me, no matter how pretty the lady". Paul's response put Logan completely at ease, a nice change in pace to the stress of the office.

"No, Paul, no ball and chain yet, but those shackles wouldn't be too bad. Tell me about your bird, as you Brits say". Paul launched into an explanation about his girlfriend, Jen, but Logan's thoughts were somewhere else. He had just admitted to a stranger, although not a complete stranger, that he was definitely headed towards ultimate commitment with one girl. That thought used to terrify him, as Rory's retaliation had proven that point many months ago on a bench at Yale. But this was new Logan, capable of responsibility and mature actions. Mature actions like making the love of one's life a wife.

Logan was brought back by Paul clapping a hand on his shoulder: "Now, as the mighty Logan Huntzberger, I know this could never compare to your fancy nancy nights out, but you should stop by the pub, get a true taste of Newman and meet my lovely Jen".

"Paul, Paul, Paul, as long as Newman promises to keep his clothing on until I'm relatively drunk off excellent scotch, I would love to meet your gang at the pub. That is, if you don't mind me tagging along for Newman's celebration", Logan grinned a little in anticipation.

"Not if you don't mind providing bail money. 9 PM at Queen's, on Tenham place. See you, marra!" Paul swung out of his chair and saw himself out.

In the back of the Mercedes on the way to the flat, Logan excitedly called Rory.

"Hey babe, who gave up their lunch money and let you give them a swirly today just because of your daddy?"

"Really, that's adorable, Ace, you get that from Tony Danza?"

"Well, was I the one with the crush on Alyssa Milano? I think not, Limo Boy."

God, he missed this. He missed the natural, unforced feeling of their conversations. He missed somebody knowing his stupid stories and poking fun at him, rather than all the bowing and scraping he endured at the office.

"Well Ace, you'll never believe it. I met someone!" He excitedly told her.

"Oh". Her voice fell. Shoot, definitely wrong phrase there. "His name is Paul. Paul Ganay", Logan tried to counter.

Her voice instantly picked up again. "Aw, honey, did Mitchum destroy your dream of being a rich newspaperman and now you and Paul are moving to Wyoming to try your luck at illegal sheep herding?"

"I walked right into that one, didn't I? Okay, fair enough. Paul's the web designer for the paper, and the first person not absolutely terrified of me. He invited me out for a drink with his friends, and guess what, he's even got a Finn!"

She snorted. "Finn's made it across the Atlantic? Impressive. Tell me all about your date with Paul. Do you want to talk about what pair of shoes really say 'come and get it' or do you not put out on the first date?"

"Dirty! But I like you. So how was your day?" Logan picked up on Gilmore girl lexicon and used it liberally with Rory.

"Meh. Substandard coffee because Mark's been sick with the flu, which he claims I gave to him, AK almost punched Bill in the newsroom today, which would have been awesome if I had had some Red Vines, but was really only great since I had popcorn and I love you." She said this very simply, as if it was another fact from her day, that in between her coffee runs and proofreading, she loved him.

Logan's breath caught in his throat, it always did when she told him she loved him.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Ace."

"Oh yeah, Huntz, how much?" She playfully challenged him, egging him on.

"I love you ten times the page numbers of your unabridged Oxford English dictionary, which need I remind you is a very very big book."

"And I love you a million times the amount of the speed limit on the Autobahn."

"You know, they did post signs limiting it now, so I mean, your love could really be equal to only the A section, whereas I love you the whole alphabet."

"If you were next to me, I would so punch you. I love you, forever and for always."

Her last statement, which should have triggered some flight response in his brain, instead calmed him, and gave him reassurance that she would always be there for him.

"That's catchy Ace, you been cheating on me with a Hallmark writer?"

"Ohh, you just bought yourself a Mary Poppins and Jean Claude Van Damme marathon! Forget it, van Damme is too damn good for you! You get Julie Andrews all the way!"

Logan playfully winced, knowing that she meant watching 'The Sound of Music' during their dinner, which meant forcing him to play Rolf to her Liesl during the 'Sixteen going on Seventeen' musical montage.

"Okay, I concede. As long as you keep your 'supercalifragiliyaddayadda' to one repeat."

"You drive a hard bargain, but your terms are accepted. But wait, don't we have to postpone our date for Paul?"

"Oh shoot, I forgot how late it is here. I better get home and pick out my sluttiest sweater so that Paul will like me."

"That's my girl. Don't forget the Bonne Bell, boys love the Dr. Pepper flavor!"

"Hey Ace? I love you. I love you forever and for, for always too."

There. He admitted it. He told her, in no uncertain terms, that this was it for him. Actually, he was more responding to her statement of it, but it felt right.

"Logan, I know. If I thought Paul had even a prayer with you, I wouldn't have told you. Now go get pretty! Fish and chips!"

"Fish and chips, Ace. I'll call you later."

Logan hung up the phone and sunk back into the headrest. He loved her. He loved her forever and for always, exactly like she said. With that, he knocked on the partition and asked the driver to head to the nearest jewelry store.

(Loud and raucous singing in the background)

"ACE! ACE!"

"Logan?" Rory questioned the inebriated voice shouting in her ear.

"Ace, I love you. I mean, I really do. I know you said it before me, but I really love you."

"Oh Logan. I take it Paul was a cheap date?"

"Ace, now you know I'm an expensive date, right?"

"Logan, call your driver, go home and drink some water, okay? I love you."

"I wish you were here Rory. I need you to be here."

Logan mumbled the last lines as Rory was hanging up her phone, sure that she had not heard the desperate albeit drunken pleas he made to her.

Logan stretched his arm out, a little confused to why Rory didn't shift at all when he moved. He felt towards her side of their bed, but only found the coffee table. He opened his eyes, something his entire body protested. He was staring at his couch cushions, a simple sofa that he generally felt nothing towards, other than the fact that it wasn't their sofa in their apartment. The night flooded back to him in random flashes and strings: the pub, with Paul, karaoke with Newman, babbling on and on about Rory, showing the picture in his wallet of her to every single person he met. He didn't really remember talking to her, he wasn't sure if their conversation was reality or merely a product of his recurring Rory dreams. He rolled off the couch, groping for his Blackberry, unsure of the time. He noticed he had several new e-mails, which didn't surprise him at all.

The first three were from his father, wanting to know how the status meeting had gone and offering unneeded advice about the ancient board of directors. The next one was from Paul, although Logan was fairly sure that was a remnant of yesterday. He opened an email from his secretary detailing his new schedule for the day, which curiously had almost nothing on it, save for a late lunch date with Paul and the layout editors.

He clicked on one from the Yale Daily News server, unsure as to why the newspaper would have his personal email address.

Babe,

Look next to your head on the coffee table. Look familiar? Aspirin? Your favorite hang-over buddy besides Finn? I emailed your secretary this morning, well, night for me, and told her you had pulled a late night trying to find a new angle for one of your feature pieces. Marika, your housekeeper, the adorable woman who earns my praise for her delicious waffles, will be arriving around noon to force-feed you beef tacos. Go back to sleep. I love you.

An ocean couldn't stop her, could it? He shook his head slightly, amazed at what she was capable of arranging in four hours for him. He had no doubts about the power she wielded, he caved every single time those blue puppy dog eyes were brought out, and he had two years to get used to them. Somehow, she also knew that he usually slept on the couch, never daring to go near the bed. Logan wondered if she had the same routine, preferring to uncomfortably sleep on their sofa rather than be alone in their bed.

Moaning, he slapped a pillow over his face and turned over to sleep.

Logan stirred, his hands brushing the soft curls piled on his chest. His dreams became more vivid the longer he spent in London. His fingers nestled in against her forehead, tracing her hairline down to her jaw and trailing on her pillow top lips. He sighed, willing himself to wake up and face the reality of being alone again. However, as he went to shift, he felt a true weight on his chest impede his movements. There was Rory, lying on top of him, in their regular positions during one of their movie marathons. Logan gripped her shoulder, almost afraid to find out she was real or he had definitely bypassed the edge of reason and gone straight to hallucinations.

"Mhm, Logan, I'm real, you can stop freaking out about whether or not you're crazy. And why is your couch so uncomfortable? I demand to be carried to bed this instant. I have grown accustomed to our 400-count sheets and refuse to find a sofa a suitable substitute." She snuggled deeper into his chest, not even bothering to open her eyes.

"Ace? What are you doing here? It's the middle of the day, you have classes, I have work, you have classes back on your side of the Atlantic!"

"Oh, so now it's my side? Somebody's getting a bit territorial if they're claiming whole countries as theirs. Now do you really want to discuss this on your lumpy sofa?"

Logan sat up, scooping Rory up in his arms, heading towards the pristine bed. She felt lighter in his arms, he worried for a brief moment that she wasn't eating.

"Hey Ace? Have you lost some weight?" He tried to sound less like accusatory boyfriend and more like genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, Paris got a treadmill and convinced me to use it after she installed the doughnut holder". She stretched out on his sheets, instantly moving closer towards his side of the bed.

"You, on a treadmill? Is there photo documentation of such an event?" Logan gently teased.

"Oh wow, what's that? The next flight to America in twenty minutes?"

"Hush you!" Logan silenced her with a deep kiss. "So, Ace, you mind telling me what you're doing here, not that I mind a surprise visit".

"You called me Rory", she stated simply, as if her reasons were completely obvious.

"Is that the jet-lag talking? Your name is Rory", Logan insisted.

"Last night, when you drunk-dialed me, you told me you needed me and called me Rory. You only call me Rory when you're serious about something. Ergo, my presence on your chest this afternoon", she smiled, the satisfaction of being near him again evident in her face.

"But a transatlantic flight in like an hour's notice? Not even Paris could manage something like that."

"No, but your father can, and he did. I called Honor last night to see if she knew the airline that Huntzberger Media had an account with, and once she figured out what I was doing, she three-way attacked Mitchum with me".

"Whoa, was that a Mean Girls reference? What happened to your La Lohan protest of '06? Don't tell me you caved already!" Logan joked.

"She made a triumphant return from the Land of Nonexistent Nicole Richie, plus she's in a movie with Garrison Keillor. I worship him and NPR, so LiLo got major points."

"Evasive maneuver, now tell me how you really got Mitchum to cave."

"Okay", she gulped, and began in earnest, "I called your father. I laid it out on the line."

Hello, Mr. Huntzberger, it's Rory, Logan's girlfriend.

Miss Gilmore, how can I help you?

Okay, Mitchum, I'm just going to level with you. I need a favor.

What, a job reference? Rory, please, I mentioned you in the Wall Street Journal, which by the way, you're welcome, so you're set for life now that you've got the Huntzberger golden stamp of approval.

Is that what you think I am? Some simpering socialite looking for a handout, be it a job or a marriage, from your family? Mitchum, I don't want that. I don't care about the money, the houses, and the power. What I care about is your son, how much your twisted games with each other destroy him and how he is tearing himself apart to measure up to you.

Oh really, so you called to discuss my son?

Yes, Mitchum, I called because I care about him, I care about you, I care about Honor, and I care about your entire family because Logan does, and it kills him to never be good enough in his own right.

What are you talking about? Logan's brilliant. He's got the instincts, the charm, the drive, he's a Huntzberger, of course he's good enough.

Mitchum, have you ever told him this? Sat down with him and had a conversation about how proud you are of him?

He knows it, Miss Gilmore, he's my son.

No, he knows that you disapprove of his choices, you disapprove of me, and you don't care enough to really tell him how you feel.

My question is, Rory, why do you care enough to tell me all this?

I care, Mitchum, because Logan's my life. Do you not understand that? I care, even though I sat at your dinner table and let your family tear me apart, let you destroy my dreams, and now I care enough to go directly to the man who controls all of that.

I see. My father doesn't give you enough credit.

And you don't give Logan enough.

Touche, Rory. Well, you have my attention. What's this favor?

I need to get to London. Preferably as soon as possible.

Why? Is there something wrong with Logan? Oh god, don't tell me it's another stupid stunt, are Colin and Finn still in the US?

Mitchum, don't worry, everything's fine, he just needs somebody to be there.

You're telling me you're willing to fly 3000 miles just to "be there"?

Yes, Mitchum, that's what you do when you love someone.

Meet me at the airfield in 25 minutes. I assume you had the foresight to pack?

Thank you, Mitchum.

"So then, I showed up, the pilot flew, he landed, quite well I must say, and here I am".

"Whoa, Ace, you glossed over a few minor details there. You yelled at my father. You yelled at Mitchum Huntzberger, the man who crushed you a year ago. You also got my father to agree to do you a favor, even after yelling at him. You got my father to give you his plane to fly to London alone to see me."

"I didn't fly alone! That's such conspicuous consumption!"

"Wait, are you telling me Mitchum flew over here with you?"

"Yes, he took all your meetings this morning."

"You survived a transatlantic flight with my father? How?"

"Well, your father actually keeps several copies of the Times onboard, so there wasn't the usual scuffle for the crossword like there is at breakfast. I talked, he listened. He talked, I listened."

"What on Earth could you discuss with my father? It's not like he's all that up to date on the Jennifer-Vince thing. Plus, you still have a soul, so that automatically puts you out of the running".

"My mom wouldn't be Lorelai if she let me leave the country without at least an Us Weekly firmly in my hand".

"Get out, you're telling me my father actually read Us Weekly? The man who reads The Economist like it's a King James Bible?"

"Actually, Logan, we're Episcopalian, we're not really that big on Scripture", Mitchum said as he strode in through the flat's front door.

"Dad!" Logan sat up in alarm. "Don't you have meetings? Something more important?"

"Logan, the meetings are taken care of. Actually, they ran themselves, to tell you the truth, which I'm happy to see that you jumped at the challenge. Now, what say you and I have a business lunch and let Rory alone for a little?"

"Oh, Mitchum, that would be great, I need to check my emails since I left Bill in charge at the newsroom", Rory exclaimed thankfully.

"Bill, the moron that started the pub putsch to Howell-Raines Paris?" Mitchum tried to put a story to the name.

"One and the same, but he's the most senior staffer and I get a kick out of entertaining his illusions of grandeur".

"How very…Judi Dench of you, Miss Small Town". At their inside joke, both Mitchum and Rory cracked a smile, rendering Logan slightly speechless. He must have misheard them. His father did not like his Ace, nor did his father laugh. There was good reason most of the housekeeping staff at the Huntzberger mansion learned 'cylon' as their first English word.

"Sorry to break up the party, Ace, Dad, but if you give me twenty minutes to clean up, I'll be happy to join you for lunch."

Once in the car with his father, Logan abruptly turned and faced the man that he alternately loathed and cowered from.

"Okay, pod-Mitchum, what are you doing here? And what's with the new attitude? Last time I checked, you thought it was fun to crush my girlfriend, not help her out", he said, attempting to conceal his true curiosity.

"I am here, son, because Rory reminded me of a few things. There's no 'new' attitude, Logan, this is just a side of my personality you were always too angry to see. And I stand by what I initially told Rory; she wasn't ready a year ago. Sometimes the truth hurts, and it's the actions taken after the pain that make the person. She became stronger, and you can't argue with me on this one".

"So you let my girlfriend take your plane and you decided just to catch a ride across the Atlantic to remind me of a few things? Sorry if I'm apprehensive in accepting this 'side' of you, or whatever your excuse is, but you've made it perfectly clear that our communication is effective via e-mails and phone calls, and if you also haven't noticed in our twenty-three year relationship, we don't do face-to-face rather well", Logan's buried anger bubbling towards the surface, anger that built up for the better part of his relationship with the man seated next to him.

"What do you want from me, Logan? Do you want me to just come out and say it? Fine, you need it spelled out. What do you think London is? Some little torture experiment to see how committed you are to Rory, or my sadism peeking through my business suit, waiting for you to screw up so that I can finally cut you off and save myself millions of dollars in legal fees? London is an opportunity for you to grow up, find yourself, and do it in a place where nobody knows you, not if you don't want them to. I'm trying to give you the one redeeming thing my father did for me: a chance to be from out under my thumb and not become someone you hate, namely me".

"Dad", Logan said softly, "I don't hate you. I'm terrified of you, true, and one of my biggest fears is becoming like you in certain senses, but I don't hate you. I hate our relationship, but I get it. And I understand London, I really do. I just…I hate being away from Rory, and from my friends, and from what's comfortable to me."

"What exactly about me is so scary? But your confession does provide some clarity into why you always shuddered when people told you how much alike we were".

"How much alike we are, Dad, present tense. You really want to know what scares me? That I will end up in a big house like ours, filled with tension and anger, and not have anybody to love me. Or that my marriage will collapse and my endless parade of secretaries will mean more to me than the woman I vowed to protect until death. The worst of it would be, however, that my children and I will have nothing to talk about besides disappointment and family obligation. But, God, Dad, if I could be one-tenth of the business guy you are, how you can walk into a chaotic room and have people calmed with just a look, or see profit margins skyrocket after a peaceful take-over and restructuring, I would love to be like you".

"Son, do you realize we've been more honest with each other in the last five minutes than we have been in our entire lives? In fact, I don't think I've ever spoken with anyone so candidly before, including your mother, and I've been married to her for close to twenty-seven years", Mitchum admitted, cracking a Huntzberger smirk.

"Yeah, Dad, scary thought, eh?" Logan chuckled right back.

"Logan, I realize we've made some leaps and bounds in our relationship, but please tell me you don't want one of those freakishly close parent-child things like Lorelai and Rory, right? Because I can do these chats occasionally, but I do not need a play-by-play of your life here", Mitchum questioned, honestly worried with Logan's response now that the gaps between them had been bridged.

"Jesus, Dad, they creep me out too. I mean, their conversations are hysterical to listen to, but, honestly, I don't care for you to know the inner workings of my mind, and I'm not terribly interested in hearing about your 'exploits' as well", Logan laughed, finding his father's comment amusing. Mitchum had come a long way, both literally and figuratively, and Logan was still wrapping his head around the fact that he and his father had just spoken to each other honestly and almost affectionately. He was puzzled as to how this complete one-eighty came about.

"Sooo, Dad, what exactly prompted this Huntzberger heart-to-heart?"

"Rory."

"You're gonna have to give me more than that here, I gathered she had something to do with it, I mean, I am well aware of the possible topics of discussion that girl can cover in a seven-hour timeframe".

"She told me about the fight with her mother. And no, she only blames me for a small part of it. Actually, I don't think she blames me at all, she just had some residual anger that I was the catalyst to it. Anyway, she spoke a lot about how something inside her felt empty, how there were so many things that she missed out on sharing with her mother. She expressed so much regret about those few months that it got me to thinking about how many years I missed out on with you and Honor. I'm sure there were lots of baseball games you looked for me in the stands, and that your boarding-school roulette game was a ploy for my attention. I was angry with my father too, for always telling me he was too busy to come see me compete, but God, he always had to time to tell me how this was my last chance before he cut me off completely and left everything to my sister. Of course I knew how much of an empty threat that was, but I mean, the man never told me I was more important than his company. The saddest part was that I knew the answer, and it wasn't exactly in my favor. I was the same playboy you were, Logan, when I was at Yale, because I was being shoved towards the same fate that you are. And so much of that behavior was driven by fear. I was so scared, and in some ways, that carried over into my marriage and our family. Yes, I at one point loved your mother, but I never let myself drop my guard enough to truly love her. And with you and Honor, I thought that if I never spent any time with you, I wouldn't screw you up too badly, but I saw you repeat my mistakes. You know what was the one moment that really terrified me? Remember that time when you got kicked out of Groton? We were in my office, and I had several files to look over before midnight. I heard myself tell you the exact same things my father told me, and I did it without even looking up from the documents. When you slammed that door at me, I knew exactly how you felt, since my father never deemed me important enough to stop being the CEO for a moment and just be my father. So, Bee, I'm sorry that I missed out on so much. I really thought I was trying to protect you from me, but I want you to know that I really regret all those moments we never had". When Mitchum used Logan's childhood nickname that no one outside of their relationship knew, the stony part of his heart reserved for his father softened. He realized how hard it was for his father, the great Mitchum Huntzberger, to admit to anything besides his success.

"Dad", his voice breaking, full of regret, sadness and guilt, "it took two of us to create the walls between us. And I'm sorry too, for forcing you into positions you didn't want to take, especially with my completely irresponsible behavior. I guess I just wanted you to feel how I feel, cornered and unable to have a say in my own life. Since we're confessing everything, I might as well tell you, I love writing. I love the newspaper business. If I was anyone else but your son, I would be fighting tooth and nail for good internships, and the Daily News editorship, and I would absolutely hate Rory for all the talent she has. But since I'm your son, nobody will give me an honest opinion because of our last name. My editors won't tell me what my pieces lack because they're too busy trying to kiss my ass so they'll have a job after graduation. If something I wrote was actually good enough to be picked up by one of our newspapers, nobody would think that it deserved to be in there. I drag my heels on the whole heir thing because it robs me of something I love, it cheapens my desire to write since I'll never be treated like anyone else but the future CEO. You want to know why I've written so much over the last year? Aside from the fact that I physically needed to put pen to paper, Rory had a lot to do with the frequent bylines. She isn't scared to attack my pieces with her red pen, and she gave me the most useless assignment ever as a test to see if I was truly ready".

"Would that be the ode to the cracked concrete outside of the library?"

"Ha, yeah, I guess you could put it that way. But it showed her that I was serious about the newspaper."

"What did she say about it when she first read it?"

"Oh, that I was really your son after all".

"What? Explain, please".

"Seriously, you underestimate that girl, Dad. When she assigned me that ridiculous piece, she showed me a bunch of articles you had written under a pen name. Aside from the similarity in style, she said, and I quote her, 'you exemplify a true love of the written word, a desire to express yourself on paper, a fearlessness to lay yourself on the page and finally rid yourself of the self-imposed barriers to your greatness".

"Rory said that? She's got it, all right, I'll give her that". Mitchum half-heartedly smiled as he remembered the scared little girl that always had his 3 PM decaf coffee ready and waiting.

"Man, Mitchum, you don't get it. She's always had it. She always knew I had it, too. She saw I needed a challenge and a whole lot of faith, and that's exactly what she gave me."

"Bee, did she ever tell you that she called me and practically ripped my head off to come see you in the hospital after Costa Rica?"

"She called you? I knew she was too nonchalant about your visit!"

"Yes, she called me. She screamed at me, issued a challenge, if you will, to get over my ego and come and see you. Then, when I got there, she just looked at me like she knew I would come, looked me straight in the eye and cocked her head to your room. She sure can work the Huntzberger men, all we need is a challenge and a whole lot of faith", Mitchum matched Logan's tone.

Logan paused to consider what Mitchum had just admitted to him. He would have never guessed that Rory would have called his father, no, yelled at his father and ordered him to see his son. He also wouldn't have ever thought that she knew how much he wanted his father to be there, but Logan was fairly sure he understood why she did it. That was one of the true beauties of his relationship with her. As much as she hated his family, she knew that they were important to Logan, and so they became important to her. He had to admire her selflessness: after the family shanghai, he didn't expect her to ever want to see any other Huntzbergers besides himself and Honor ever again. For her to reach out to the man who completely crushed her and sent her on a downward spiral told Logan a lot about how committed she was to him. For Rory to behave like that even though she was mad at him for the bridesmaid debacle made him feel slightly unworthy of the love of such a good person. For yet another time that day, Logan silently wondered what he had done to deserve her.

Logan and Mitchum stayed quiet for a while, Logan watching the drifting scenery pass them by. When he saw the city proper fading into long stretches of uninhabited road, he turned to his father, in puzzlement. "Dad, aren't we going into the office for a business lunch?"

"Bee, didn't Rory get you the Beatles' White Album before you left? If I remember correctly, she told me it was absolutely necessary to survive in 'Old Blighty', as she affectionately put it", Mitchum dodged his son's questions with one of his own.

"Yeah, the night of graduation, she threw me a London-themed going-away party and uploaded a bunch of British artists onto my ipod so that I would at least have music to fall back on as a conversation starter. But why aren't we going to the office? I have meetings scheduled that I shouldn't miss, and you of all people should understand this concept".

"The office will not collapse without you son, so you can deflate your ego a little. We're going to Liverpool. Rory forced me to listen to the Beatles on the flight after she told me that a dismal taste in music was apparently an inherited Huntzberger trait. So, now that I'm in London, I want to go see the birthplace of my new favorite group", Mitchum shrugged at his explanation.

Logan had to hold back his glee. "Oh man, she totally got to you! And I thought you would always be firmly anti-Rory because she was going to ruin my life! You're just as bad as Colin and Finn! It took Finn five minutes and a game of 'who knows more indie bands' to crack. Colin, however, held out for about a week until he walked in on our heated discussion on the Italian PM brouhaha. All it took for you to fall in love with my girlfriend was a CD! Unbelievable. You're weaker than I thought, Dad", Logan chuckled, secretly amused that his father was under his girlfriend's spell exactly like his 'dopey friends'.

"Fine, fine, I admit defeat, unlike you. She told me it took a break-up and her refusal to even acknowledge your presence for you to even tell her how much you love her!" Mitchum smiled in triumph over his son.

"No, let me start at the beginning of the saga known as Rory and Logan", at this, Mitchum rolled his eyes and pretended to gag. "Dad, you dork. I should have told you this the minute I started calling her my girlfriend, you would have been over the moon about her!"

"Please, how could yet another woman instantly falling for your insipid charm make me smile?"

"Ha! Rory, fall instantly like the bimbos I used to date? She hated me. We're talking several plots to potentially smother me in my sleep hatred. She thought I was spoiled, egotistical, lazy, a snob, haughty, and a whole other host of unattractive qualities. I still shake my head at how I managed to get her to like me," Logan admitted.

"So why Rory? Why the one girl that didn't want you?"

"Well, I was stupid enough to grab her hand at the LDB gathering and the jolt from it must have fricasseed my brains or something. She did, and still, scares the crap out of me. But I'm scared to not have her in my life, because I hated who I was before her. I'm terrified that the most beautiful, intelligent, strong, loving woman in the world will one day turn over and tell me she doesn't want me anymore and I won't be able to handle it". Logan grew quiet as he finally voiced his deepest fear.

"Bee, have you listened to anything I told you? Have you listened to anything Rory's told you? She's completely head over heels for you. You scare her as much as she scares you. The only difference is that her fear is for you, not herself. She's scared that you're going to walk away, like you've done in the past. Oh yes, she told me about Honor's wedding, and how she found out from Honor about the break-up", Mitchum's voice started to rise a little in measured anger at his son.

"Hey," Logan raised his hands in surrender, "I know I screwed up. I know I broke her heart. I was so scared that somebody else trusted me with theirs that I didn't know how to deal with it and I bolted. I tried to make her meaningless to me, hence the triumvirate of bad decisions known as the bridesmaids. But I failed. I've never meant that much to anyone before, nor had someone that I cared about like that, it's not like Honor and I grew up in a place where emotions and sharing were encouraged. But Rory, she's it for me. I don't really think I can even coherently explain why, but she's always been it for me. From the moment I saw her eyes flash, I was done". Logan sighed and looked away, caught in daydreams. Mitchum wisely chose to stay silent after Logan's confession, letting his son sift through his heart and mind without interruption.

Logan's thoughts brought him back to that fateful day outside of Branford, that exact second when his heart tugged and his mind ignored it. It dawned on him that it was truly love at first sight with Rory, but it took him two years for his brain to process something that his heart already knew. When he had locked eyes with her in that hallway, he could see those same eyes staring at him from the back of a church, veiled by the white tulle in front of them.

"Did you know that I saw myself marrying her the instant she even deigned to look in my direction?" Logan mumbled, partly to himself.

"Have you thought about that anymore since? I mean, if you wanted to marry her when she hated you, your feelings can't have changed much since you began a relationship with her, right?"

"Oh my god, Dad, I've thought about being with Rory for the rest of my life every day since then. Until the break-up, that idea was too much for me. I saw your marriage, the marriages of everybody else in our circle, and I didn't want that. Not with Rory. I knew that if I married her, it couldn't be another society marriage. After our fight at the pub when I screamed at her, not my proudest moment by the way, I didn't think I wanted something complicated. I thought I wanted the socialite bimbo who had no ambitions aside from a Vera Wang wedding dress and a huge diamond to show off at the club. I thought I wanted a simple arrangement that wouldn't drive me crazy, or make me worry, or aggravate me to the point of throwing my hands up and admitting defeat".

"So why go back to the complicated choice? After all, you've taken the easy way out your entire life", Mitchum gently prodded his son.

"I got bored. I missed her. I missed that gray area that was so comfortable to me. Actually, I missed that part of myself that she had somehow weaseled out of me. Before Rory, I had never had my heart broken. The worst part about our fight and time apart was the fact that I was the one who broke it, something that I wished I could have blamed on her", Logan's eyes teared a little, filled with honesty and genuine hurt.

"I see…" Mitchum trailed off, lost in similar thoughts to his son's.

Neither man spoke for a long time, soothed by the constant motion of the car and each other's even breathing. After a while, Mitchum noticed that Logan's head had fallen back against the seat rest, his eyes closed, and his expression weary. He fished his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed the bank manager for their account in Hartford.

"Jerry, Mitchum Huntzberger. I'd like to transfer it after all. I know I said I was unsure, but go ahead and put in a call to the London branch. I'd like it accomplished by tomorrow at the latest, understand? Pleasure's all mine, Jerry".

Logan and Mitchum returned to the flat just as Rory was struggling with a massive bag of books. "Whoa, Ace, need some help?" Logan asked as he reached to grab the handles of the canvas bag as they were sliding from her grasp.

"Rory, why didn't you just ask them to deliver these to the flat?" Mitchum questioned as he smoothly removed the volumes tucked underneath her arm.

"It wasn't as heavy when I left the bookstore, I swear. Three blocks away, then it got heavy", she sheepishly admitted.

"Ace", Logan groaned, "I told you, call a car. I don't like you wandering around London, lugging a thousand pounds of literature by yourself!" he gently chastised.

"I have legs, they function properly, therefore, there's absolutely no need for me to waste your money and England's petrol supply to get around your neighborhood. Besides, I met your downstairs neighbors, the Maxwell-Hearsts. They want to have a drink with us at the pub tomorrow, but I told them that you would be in touch with them".

As they entered the apartment, Mitchum excused himself into Logan's study to check for a fax he was expecting.

Rory and Logan stayed in the living room, sorting the books that Rory had discovered for them. "No! You're ruining the system!" Rory playfully slapped Logan's hand away from the cover of one of them.

"Oh my god, fine. I just wanted to see why on Earth you had gotten a book about baseball. You don't do sports, it's a Gilmore girl rule!"

"That's for you", Rory gestured, beginning to explain her system. "This pile has my books in it. That pile with the baseball book on top is for books I thought you would like and what you had put on reserve at the store already. And these", motioning over to a toppling pile of various-sized texts, "are books that we both will like but will have to share."

Logan grinned, picking up a hidden stack of books on a chair. "And what are these?"

"Ummm, those are the books I knew you'd like too, but you're a slower reader than I am, so I wanted them first?" she tried to innocently explain.

Logan shook his head, though captivated by her antics. "So as punishment, you're going to let me read all of these first and seethe silently because it will take me forever to finish them?" he teased.

She threw her hands up in defeat, but her eyes sparkled. "If I say yes, will you tell me why Mrs. Maxwell-Hearst asked me where we honeymooned, dear husband of mine?"

Logan blushed a little, embarrassed to be caught in his lie. "Are you mad? She overheard a conversation I had with you a while back and assumed, incorrectly, I might add. I've just never bothered to correct her when she asks me how my wife is and when they'll have the pleasure of taking us out to dinner and the opera." He silently prayed that being called his wife didn't cause her to freak out, or get mad, since he had become used to the warm wishes the downstairs couple always asked him to pass onto his wife.

"Not if you promise to actually take me to Marbella so I don't look like a fool when she grills me for details".

"Marbella, Ace, that's so touristy. What about our private island in the Indian Ocean?"

"Logan, you can't be serious, you own an island?"

"No, but if you wanted one, it's yours."

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "I don't need an island, you weirdo. Seriously, Limo Boy, quit throwing your money around to impress me, I'm definitely going home with you tonight." She laughed.

Logan pulled her closer, desperate to be as near to her as possible. She automatically snuggled into his chest, her brown curls tickling his neck.

"I won't be mad if you won't be mad that I signed the credit card receipt for the books as Rory Huntzberger", she muttered into Logan's body.

"No Gilmore-Huntzberger? What happened to all your feminism crap? You have Betty Freidan and Gloria Steinem action figures, for heaven's sake!"

"No, and don't think for a second that me taking your last name means I'd give up my membership in NOW! Gilmore-Huntzberger is too long for government forms, so unless I suddenly feel a desire to receive mail addressed to Gilmore-Huntzbe, I'm not hyphenating."

Logan merely nodded at her rationalization, but it became apparent to him that she had thought about how Rory Huntzberger would sound, and she had become comfortable signing for things as such. He hoped that she wasn't scared by him referring to her as his wife, which, truth be told, he did so quite often. Anytime he ran into one of the Maxwell-Hearsts or some of his other neighbors, he proudly talked about how his Rory had accomplished so much. For a second time that day, realization washed over him. He already considered her his wife, and conversely, she admitted she did as well. He wasn't put off by this, secretly; he loved how 'Lorelai Huntzberger' rolled effortlessly off his tongue.

With their light-hearted discussion of such a serious topic, Logan felt himself grow bolder and bolder, seeing just how long Rory would take to crack.

"That's a good thing about your anti-hyphenation stance, then when our monogrammed bath towels are dirty, you won't know which one is yours!"

"Seriously, you are so sophomoric sometimes. Plus, mine's going to be pink, and don't think I won't figure out a way to get evidence if you ever dare to use it, mister. And don't think I'm above letting Finn know that my husband just looooves his fluffy pink towels."

"You wouldn't, oh my god, you would! You would sell out your own husband and his secret love of femininely appointed linens. You, Ace, come from a dark place, a very dark place indeed. You make me worry about how many times the kids are going to side with your evil instead of my good!"

"Please", she scoffed, "as if any of our children will mistake you for an angel. But..", Logan detected a shift in her voice away from their banter and towards a more serious tone, "have you actually thought about that? I mean, our kids?"

At this, Logan grew nervous. Was she trying to let him know that she was out? That she couldn't see herself with their kids? "Well, yeah." His voice came out less than steady, but at least it answered her in the affirmative.

"Really?" At his admission, her worry lines that had steadily grown deeper with every moment of silence before his answer dissipated and a huge grin broke out on her face. "Me too", she said in a small voice.

Logan couldn't begin to describe the feelings that washed over him when she told him this. Marriage was one thing, but her desire for a family with him of all people as well? The realization that he would get to have the whole package with her excited him to no end, and it made him more resolute to find the perfect way to make their pretend life a reality.

Logan woke up as the sunlight peeked through the wooden shades drawn over the windows in his bedroom, just like the ones in America. His gaze traveled downward where it was met by a pair of oceanic eyes who were, at the moment, blatantly staring back at him.

"Good morning, Ace, you checking me out?" Logan playfully joked with her as he reached up to smooth her pillow-rumpled hair.

"MM-hmm! I forgot my hus-boyfriend was so cute." Her fingers, which were resting on his chest, quickly slid down underneath the covers that they shared. Logan couldn't help but wonder if her movement was motivated by lust or her attempt to distract him from her paraprax.

"Ace", Logan said gently, causing her to look him straight in the eyes, "You, know, I'm not freaked out by that, you calling me your husband. I've called you my wife ever since I got to London. It scares me sometimes, but a good scary."

"It scares me too, but I get scared thinking about the future with you not in it. Confession? I kind of like it when people refer to me as Mrs. Huntzberger, since then I get to dream about all the years we'll have together and everything we'll get to share." She laid her head back down and traced tiny hearts into Logan's chest.

"Ace, I like it when people call you that, too. I always think about how it makes you officially mine, that it's an outside recognition of you being a part of me."

"Okay, so I want this to be said out loud, no more silent agreements between us, we learned our lesson from the Seymour Hersh disaster."

"Ahh, Ace, I thought that I made that up to you already. Are you going to keep referencing that forever?"

"No, I promise eventually I'll come up with a new example. But seriously, Logan…"

"Okay. Rory, I love you. I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?"

"Of course I do, Logan, but do not for a second think that this thing we're doing right here is a proposal."

"Oh God, no! Lorelai would crucify me if you told her this story. No, Ace, this isn't my proposal. When I do propose, it's gonna be good, otherwise I doubt your mother would let me marry you."

Logan felt like an enormous weight had been removed from him, all doubts in his head about their relationship were erased. Rory had told him she wanted to be his wife, they had discussed it, and now it was going to happen.

"Okay, but can it not include a blindfold? I have a serious aversion to those when used in conjunction with your surprises!"

"Come on, you love my surprises!

"Correction, you love your surprises, and I love that you love your surprises, so my love of your surprises is only because of the transitive property of our relationship."

"I'm sorry, did you just use a mathematical equation to describe our relationship? That's a new low even for you, Bookworm."

"Hey! You totally just rescinded your claim to read those books first!"

"Come here, you're my bookworm, which makes it okay." They laid together, Logan's hands woven into Rory's dark hair, her fingers gently counting the freckles that marched along his arm. Logan felt Rory's breathing steady and match his own, their hearts moving in unison.

"Hey Ace", he ventured cautiously, breaking the comfortable silence, "why do you always sleep on my chest? Not that I'm complaining or anything, I like you there just fine, but it must be so uncomfortable."

"If I tell you the truth, do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"I would never laugh at you!"

"Two words: Rory curtain."

"Okay, not fair, everybody laughed at that. But come on, tell me."

"Fine. I like listening to your heart beat. It always reminds me how safe I am with you, and how much of you is inside me, especially when our hearts beat together. The first night you left, I couldn't sleep because I didn't have your heart beat to listen to. So I finally ended up shoving one of your watches underneath my pillow just so I could listen to a little bit of your rhythm. But now that you're here, I get to listen to the real thing."

Her admission rocked Logan to his core. He knew that their relationship was based upon moments and little things, but for Rory to say that just the beat of his heart made her love him, it reaffirmed everything he had ever loved about her.

"And I like how your nose crinkles up when you get confused. How your eyes change color depending on your mood. How I can literally see your first coffee work its way through your system…" After each declaration, Logan leaned down and kissed her, happy to lose his lips in hers.

"Mmm, speaking of that delicious elixir of life, how about it?" She gazed up at him, her Bambi-eyes reaching full force.

"Fine! You know I'm powerless to resist you when you do that!"

"Oh yeah?" she smirked, "How about when I do this?" She reached up and captured his lips, pulling Logan into a deep kiss that spoke to his soul of promises, love, passion and desire.

On his way to the lobby in the elevator the next morning, Logan bumped into Mrs. Maxwell-Hearst, who excitedly cornered him to discuss Rory.

"Logan darling, I had the great pleasure of running into your wife the other day! What a charming girl!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Maxwell-Hearst, I'll be sure to pass on the compliment."

"Well, charming boy, the mister and I would be overjoyed if you and Rory could join us for supper tonight, and perhaps a show?"

"That sounds perfect, ma'am. I'll call Rory and let her know she needs to go shopping."

"Oh, please let me! Mr. Maxwell-Hearst is at the office and I'm afraid I get terribly lonely during the day."

Logan paused, considering whether or not letting his society matriarch of a neighbor near Rory was a good idea. However, he knew that the possibility of saying no did not exist for him. "Of course, she would be happy to have your company."

Logan found a break towards the end of his meeting with Paul to call Rory. Hearing the ringing of the line, he sat down and mentally prepared himself for verbal lashing he was sure to receive.

"Hello darling!"

"Darling?" Logan questioned, amused to hear genuine happiness in her voice. "So you're not mad that I unintentionally stuck you with my nosy neighbor for an entire day?"

"Oh sweetie, I'm sure you'll make it up to me somehow!" Sarcasm dripped from her words, causing Logan to fear leaving the relative safety of his office for his extremely disgruntled Ace at his flat.

"Seriously, you name it, you got it. I'll buy you a chocolate factory if you want…"

"Well, if you promise me a room of squirrels, I'll say thank you for the absolutely exquisite Chanel gown you bought me today" she playfully interjected.

"Did you steal my black card again, Ace? You're as bad as Finn!"

"No, I'm planning on returning it sometime soon, so don't you even dare compare your wife to your best friend. Besides, I got you something too."

"So what have the Maxwell-Hearsts cajoled us into attending tonight?"

"Dinner and the opera. They have a box at the Royal London Theatre and 'La Traviata' is there, and you know that's my favorite Verdi, honey!"

Logan could tell she threw in the 'honey' sentiment as a last resort because her Bambi eyes could not be seen over the phone, but he knew her well enough to know that her mystical and persuasive eyes were out in full force.

"What time are the festivities starting?"

"7 at the Ivy, apparently Madonna cancelled and Geraldine is a bit put off that she would have the 'nerve' to need to reschedule."

"Wait, my neighbors know Madonna?"

"Yes, apparently my great-grandmother introduced them after meeting Madge through Korn."

Logan had to chuckle at the unwavering voice of his obviously untruthful girlfriend.

"Come on, Ace, enough teasing!"

"Who said I was teasing? My great-grandmother really did know Korn, they stayed at her house in Hartford."

"Lord, you are serious, aren't you? Knowing Lorelai Gilmore keeps surprising me. Anyway, you said 7? I'll have to meet you at the restaurant, would you mind calling my driver and asking him to drop off the Armani tux at the office? And can you relay the details to the Maxwell-Hearsts? I've got to run, babes, fish and chips!"

Ending the call with Rory, Logan scrolled through his address book to find Honor's number so that he could request her help with a small surprise for Rory tonight.

"Brother dearest, how goes it in London? Not too concerned about time zones, are we?"

"Oh god, Honor, I completely forgot! I promise, a tiny favor and Rory and I will babysit our nephew as soon as you want!"

"WHAT? How did you know? I haven't even told them yet!"

"You know Ace, she was so excited for you, she came home, stole my credit card and rushed off to buy you a million baby things, which you should probably think about returning since she is the daughter of Lorelai Gilmore. So congratulations, Honor, I'm so happy for you, and I'm excited to be an uncle."

"I love your girlfriend, Logan. And yes, I am so excited and do not think for one minute that you will get out of babysitting your niece just because your girlfriend is good with kids!"

"Rory will be his aunt, so technically, I won't be pawning off your kid to just anyone…" Logan paused to let his statement sink in with Honor, expecting another ear-splitting scream to puncture their call.

"Well, of course Rory will be the godmother, like I'd trust any of my boozy friends with the responsibility of a child, wait, Logan, did you propose?" He could sense the change in her tone as her realization set in, along with a measure of shock.

"No, but I'm planning it. I even told Dad, which weirds me out, but a lot's happened between us in the past few days, next time I'm home, we'll have to sit and have an us vs. them discussion so I can fill you in on it."

"Oh, baby brother! You're growing up! God, I'm like six weeks along and already the pregnancy hormones are kicking in! I am so happy for you! Actually, I'm so happy for me! Now I'll finally have someone else in our family I can actually stand! You do realize this changes family dinner in our favor, right? We're finally a majority! The four of us can overrule them now, majority rules!"

"Ha! Never in that house. But I think we might have a shot now that Dad's on our side. Anyway, do you have Karl's number?"

Logan strode into the Ivy, pausing only slightly at the maitre d' stand to give his name and ask where his party was seated. After being directed, Logan followed a wizened waiter towards the back of the room, oblivious to the din of the diners around him. He smiled as the Maxwell-Hearsts and Rory came into view, his beautiful girlfriend sandwiched in between the distinguished older couple, who had their chairs angled conspiratorially towards her. She cocked her head to one side as Mr. Maxwell-Hearst whispered something in her ear, her eyes brilliantly reflecting the soft candles in the table's centerpiece. "Darling, Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell-Hearst, please forgive me for my lateness! The front-page news never reports itself!" Logan announced to the happy trio.

Looking up, Logan's chest tightened a little as he felt the full magnitude of Rory's gaze. She was, for him, the definition of breath-taking. He drank her in, her luminous and silky hair twisted effortlessly, exposing her delicate face, her graceful eyelashes framing the soul-baring eyes, the luscious, creamy skin that was cloaked in an ethereal glow. Lucky, he thought, he was so lucky to have this perfect creature to call his own, soon to be forever.

"Please, my boy", Mr. Maxwell-Hearst gently chided Logan, "call us Robert and Geraldine, and do sit down! We were just enthralling your Lorelai with tales of our own Lorelai."

Logan moved around to shake Robert's proffered hand, and bent down to kiss Geraldine politely. He reached out and grazed Rory's bare shoulder, his fingers positively itching to touch her.

"Hello Ace." He murmured into her ear as he brushed his lips softly against her cheek.

"Hi babe, I missed you." She breathily replied, her eyes betraying that his gentle kiss made her wish for something entirely inappropriate in polite society. He walked to the empty chair, noticing that her dress wasn't indeed black but a midnight blue, his favorite color. He knew she must have chosen it specifically for him and was touched by her small gesture.

"Now Logan, it would only be polite to catch you up on how delightful your wife is, although I must say, she has become even more beautiful since Lorelai sent out her debutante picture," Geraldine smiled warmly at him.

"You were a debutante? And here I thought all this time I had married anyone but a society wife!" He smirked, knowing she wouldn't contradict him in the presence of the Maxwell-Hearsts.

"Oh Lorelai, your great-grandmother was incredibly proud of you, that was the first thing she always said to me anytime I saw her. Always proclaiming that you would one day make it very difficult for a man to leave your side." Geraldine smiled, looking between Rory and Logan.

"Well, Lorelai Gilmore was always an astute woman, wasn't she. By the way, Ace, I picked your ring up from Cartier on my way over here." He smirked as she looked momentarily surprised when he slid a small ring box across the table, motioning to her with his left hand so that she was sure to catch a glimpse of the simple platinum ring he had slid onto his own finger.

"Oh thank you Logan, I knew it felt like I was missing something all day." She smiled as she opened the box and slid the ring on with a casual air, although Logan could tell she was excited by the gesture.

"Lorelai, you have one thoughtful husband," Geraldine said as she grabbed Rory's hand to inspect the ring, nodding her approval.

"Oh, I know, Geraldine, I couldn't have asked for more." She shot Logan a smile that he knew well; a smile that indicated to him her love for him and any and everything about him.

While Geraldine and Robert interrogated Rory about the wedding, Logan sat back, entranced at the beauty that sat before him. However, he stayed abreast of their conversation, intelligent enough to realize that she was describing her idea of their future nuptials.

"It was a perfect day in April, one of those days that one always associates with the best things in life. Everything was beautiful, down to the cufflinks that Logan was convinced he lost. Remember honey, that onyx pair your sister bought you, which you tore our apartment apart looking for?"

He knew what pair she was talking about, giddy that her idea of their wedding day was so detailed, but somehow he knew it would be. "Of course, you almost came home from the church to help me look for them, much to the chagrin of your grandmother. But I just remember when you looked at me and promised me all those things" he said, looking deeply at Rory, conveying everything unspoken about their relationship. She didn't respond, caught up in his eyes. Peripherally, he spied the Maxwell-Hearsts exchange an understanding look and slightly nod their heads. A few moments later, he saw Robert look at Geraldine, who drew the couple out of their trance with another question. "Have you thought about children yet?"

"Well, I know Logan is dying for a boy, and I definitely need someone to play dress up with, so we're hoping for at least one of each." He smiled, the understanding finally dawning on him that she had truly considered all aspects of their future.

"Any names picked out?" Robert questioned.

Rory began: "Elias for a boy, after Logan's grandfather," Logan cut in, "With either Richard or Christopher as a middle name, after Rory's father." She smiled at his kind thought.

"And if it's a girl?" Geraldine prompted.

"Well, I have to continue the Lorelai tradition, but I want to have Adelaide as her middle name, for Logan's favorite grandmother."

"And so I don't confuse my favorite girls, we're planning on calling her Ellie." Logan interjected again, verbalizing the picture in his head of Rory and their daughter, excited to see him when he came home from work.

"My, don't you two have a wonderful life together. Reminds me of the first time Geraldine refused my proposal!" With that, Robert regaled the group with stories of his courtship of his wife, a theme which lasted until the two well-acquainted couples reached the lobby of their shared building.

"Lorelai, would you see Geraldine in? I have a tenant issue I simply must discuss with Logan," Robert said, indicating the waiting elevator.

"Of course, Robert, this evening was amazing, thank you so much. Logan and I will have to concoct a plan of our own to top you!" Rory kissed the older man's cheek before she pecked Logan on the mouth and walked away with Geraldine. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Robert grabbed Logan's shoulder and proclaimed "You are head over heels in love with that girl, and I would like to congratulate you on managing to commit to the best thing in your life."

"What do you mean?" Logan was slightly taken aback, not only at the man's bluntness, but at his awareness of the truth.

"Oh, don't be a fool, Logan. I was the same way, you know. Absolutely terrified of Geraldine, simply because I knew she was far too good for me, and curious to see when she would realize that fact. Thankfully, she's crazy and hasn't let me go yet. But you, you are in the presence of true, everlasting love, you've found your soul mate."

"How do you know?" Logan needed to be reassured by this successful gentleman who also married the love of his life.

"You mean you didn't notice how neither of you took your eyes off each other? How you always made sure you were touching her, a hand around her waist or across her shoulders, how she would look at you before her favorite parts of the opera, just to see how you would react? Plenty of our kind may equate success with mansions, money and mistresses, but I've always believed my greatest venture in life was asking Geraldine to share it with me." Logan let out a sigh of relief. He was so lost in thought about what Robert had told him, he barely noticed getting out of the elevator and entering his apartment.

Logan woke up to an empty bed the next morning, a bit alarmed when he realized his arms were clasped around a pillow instead of Rory's body. He shifted his arm over to her side, trying to see if the sheets retained any of her warmth. The coldness that met his fingertips prompted him to call out with a hint of desperation, "Ace?"

"In the kitchen, I wanted to surprise you with something! I'll be right in!"

Satisfied with her answer, he propped himself up against the headboard and grabbed his phone off the nightstand to check his messages. He didn't notice when a tray was unceremoniously dropped into his lap, piled high with bagels, pastries and several cups of coffee.

"Aw, honey, what's this?" he asked with amusement.

"Oh darling, I made us breakfast in bed!" Her eyes sparkled as she matched his sarcasm.

"Made? Made implies that you at one point did more than ask the doorman to pick this up from the café down the block," he said, noting the familiar logo on the coffee mugs.

"You know, with that attitude, I'm not going to show you the second part of your surprise." Her fingers moved to tighten the sash of the robe she had entered wearing. Logan could see she was clearly hiding something under the robe, and his curiosity caused him to abruptly seize the belt and tug hard. His eyes widened as the robe fell away from her, exposing a beautiful lingerie set that she had obviously picked out just for him. It was delicate, but sublimely sexy, and seemed to make all of his other experiences with women in lingerie pale in comparison. He couldn't help himself as he took her in, the glorious sight of her perfect body shielded by only a bit of lace.

"Do you like it?" she asked nervously. "I was so embarrassed to buy it, but the woman at the store nearly shoved it into my hands after I told her what I wanted your reaction to be."

Logan was still speechless that she had put so much thought into surprising him. He was also shocked that she had crept out of her shell to be a little bolder with him.

"God, Ror, I love it. You can have my black card anytime as long as you promise to buy something like this every time."

"Oh really? I don't get my own?" She swatted playfully at his attempts to pull her down into the bed.

"How about sharing mine? If I got you your own, I wouldn't get the pleasure of unwrapping my presents after your shopping sprees."

"Actually, I kind of wanted this to be a regular thank you for you every time you amaze me with your kindness and generosity. You didn't need to get me a ring; I already explained to Geraldine that I had it sent in for resizing."

"I know I didn't, I wanted to. And I notice you still haven't taken it off, have you? I don't want you to, either." He surprised himself with his honesty, but he figured that after their intimate conversations about everything, there was nothing to be held back.

"You know I don't need a giant diamond or some elaborate proposal, Logan. I just need you. And although I'd love to see the look on my mother's face if I showed up with an ice rink on my finger, I love this simple ring because you gave it to me. I know we're not officially married or even engaged, but I love looking down at my hand and seeing this ring that you put there. That's all I need Logan, only you."

He was touched, truly touched that she admitted this to him, although he knew her innate goodness wouldn't have directed her any other way. Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss.

They lay there together, Rory lazily stroking his chest while his head rested on top of hers. "Hey", he said softly. "Rory, I know you don't need a big proposal or something over the top, but you deserve it. I want it to be the best day of your life, the day when I ask you to be my wife, and you know I wouldn't give you anything less."

"Logan", she interrupted, "I don't want anything elaborate, I just want you. Although, my grandmother might kill you if you don't live up to your reputation."

"Okay, how about I surprise you, but I promise not to make it a big deal?"

"Deal."

Logan found himself drifting over to an unfamiliar place after his long day at work, a set of boutiques lined with aristocratic women and their tiny dogs. He knew Rory wouldn't ever want one of those 'pocket pooches', but a big dog that he could take on his runs with him, one that he could feel safe about leaving her home alone with. Maybe a retriever or lab, but a gorgeous black dog that they could take pictures with for their Christmas card until they were ready to have children. A few years ago, Logan would have down and out punched someone who would have suggested that he would think about a dog as protection for his girlfriend, let alone the possibility of him sending out a card at the holidays. But he was excited for when it became a reality, already thinking about the day in the park when she would get them matching sweaters and the puppy a new bow, so they could send out messages to everyone about how happy their little family was. He was plain excited to have a real family with her, a real home to return to after work, a place of love and tenderness that he never knew he missed until now. His thoughts were interrupted when he found the storefront he was looking for, a monochromatic black window with a small interlocking logo that he would have missed had he not be there before. His phone jingled in his pocket as he was escorted into the boutique by the doorman.

"Honor! How's my little nephew and his mommy?"

"Good lord, you've gone soft. I'm good, the baby's good, Josh is a nervous wreck, I still haven't told them yet, but I'm thinking about it, how about you?"

"I'm tired, but the paper's going really well, some big numbers that Dad actually might be proud of, and I'm actually going to meet Karl right now."

"OOOO! I wish my husband would design a dress for me! Now, I was planning on telling Mom tomorrow, but I really could use a distraction, so I'm going to ask Rory to come with me."

"Do you really think that's such a good idea? I mean, Mom's stress smoking has reached full-pack status whenever Rory is around, and you have an unborn child to think about."

"Have you talked to Dad recently?"

"Yes, do you really think the neurotic control freak we call our father would not be in constant contact with me?"

"No, I mean like actually talked to him. He told mom about your little chat about Rory's Huntzberger status and I think she might have actually accepted that fact."

"Really? Huh." He wasn't too sure how he felt about his parents accepting the fact that he was going to marry Rory. On one hand, he wished that they could be happy for them, like normal parents were when they found out similar news, but he knew that their quiet resignation was at least a better reaction than a forced break-up. On the other hand, he wondered why they were going so quietly. He thought back to the first disastrous dinner he had brought Rory to, how angry his family's reaction to her had been. His best guess was that they finally saw how good she was, a good person and a good influence on him. With her, Logan had actually attended more social events, participated more in school and the paper, and began to somewhat embrace the heir responsibilities.

"Honor, I have to run, but I promise to make Karl make his assistants email you his sketches of the dress so that you can tell me your input, okay? Tell Josh hello and kiss my nephew for me!"

"Oh baby brother. I miss you!"

Logan hung up with Honor and was immediately approached by an assistant.

"Qu'est-ce que voudriez-vous, monsieur?"

"Je suis ici pour une rendez-vous avec M. Lagerfield. Je voudrais voir une dessine pour ma fille."

"Tout suite, monsieur." The assistant rushed off towards the back, leaving Logan to contemplate why a store in London would conduct its business solely in French.

"Logan! Quelle surprise!" A booming voice pulled him back into the stark white interior of the chic boutique.

"Karl, wonderful to see you again! Thank you so much for agreeing to help me with my project. Honor and my mother absolutely rave about your creations for them!"

"Ah, mon petit chou, I live to dress the fine Huntzberger women! But this dress you desire, ce n'est pas pour une fille Huntzberger, oui?"

"It's for a soon-to-be Huntzberger, actually. I'm hoping you would honor me with a dress for Rory, my girlfriend, when I ask her to marry me."

"Ah, yes love. Above all things love. Flimsy and ethereal, but yet so strong. Of course, Monsieur Logan, I would be honored to create a fitting tribute to your love. Allons-y! We have much work to be done if this dress will pay homage to l'amour!"

Logan paced around his office, clutching the phone to his side. Thirteen times he had started to dial the number, but every single time he was even close to the last few digits, he started shaking and couldn't finish. He wasn't sure as to why he was utterly terrified of this conversation; after all, he had tackled much bigger opponents. More formidable, he wasn't sure of, but definitely much bigger. He knew that since he and Rory had fixed their mistakes and really committed to each other, Lorelai had been content, if not a little bit happy, for him. She somewhat accepted him, tolerated him at least, but he wasn't sure how she would react to anything he had to ask her. He chickened out. Calling out to his secretary, he asked her to connect his line to the Dragonfly Inn in Stars Hollow. Having someone else dial the numbers for him wasn't cheating as long as he did the asking.

"Ah," she said as she sunk against the soft leather with a glass of Champagne in her hand, "so this is how the other half lives in London." Logan chose to hold his comment, knowing that her baiting him was merely her way of subtly reminding him that it was she alone who had the ultimate power over him.

"So, Lorelai, how was your flight?"

"Not bad, Limo Boy, although I should probably just call you Gulfstream from now on. But I am definitely mentioning it to my mother that she and my father should look into a jet, for business travel purposes of course."

"Did I say thank you yet for agreeing to fly over here and meet me?"

"No, but I will find many many ways for you to make it up to me. Now, explain this little plan. But first, why are we pulling up to the Chanel boutique on a Monday?"

"You actually know where we are? I thought Rory had said you stayed in hostels last time you were in London?"

"Oh, we did stay in hostels, but Chanel is sacred. It was right up there with visiting Westminster Abbey for us. In fact, don't judge me, I know you have Anglican roots, but I actually prayed more at the altar that is the quilted purse than at St. Paul's."

"So that means my next surprise will be a very good one then?"

As they walked towards the store, Lorelai's face fell a little. "Logan, they're closed! The one time I had you in a position where I could liberally abuse your black card, and Chanel's closed!"

Logan shook his head. Rory definitely did not inherit her mother's obsession with shopping, but he guessed this was something that worked out in his favor.

"They're closed because I asked Karl for some privacy. So go ahead, open the door."

She spun around with a look on her face akin to Rory's when he gave her a first-edition Pushkin for her birthday a few weeks earlier. Pure, unadulterated joy and love towards him, the person providing them with such wonders. Ever the gentleman, Logan opened the door, made a slight bow, and ushered Lorelai into her version of a holy place.

"Monsieur Logan! Et vous? You, madame, are absolutely ravishing!" A chic Karl Lagerfield greeted Logan and Lorelai as they stepped into the boutique.

"Ah, oui, Karl, c'est la mere de Rory, Lorelai. Je voudrais vous presenter Madame Lorelai Gilmore."

"Enchantee, Madame." Logan watched how Lorelai could not even stutter out any words as Karl grabbed her hand and kissed it. It dawned on him that Lorelai may not have even understood the conversation, but since Rory spoke multiple languages, he had assumed Lorelai at least knew some French. After all, she was at one point a society girl, and it was de rigeur in Hartford for at least conversational French.

"Monsieur Lagerfield! J'ai espere pour ce moment, non, je l'ai sogne! J'ai pense que ton collection printemps a ete magnifique!"

Logan was pleasantly surprised that Lorelai fell into an amiable conversation with Karl, with an accent that even surpassed Logan's. He made a mental note to ask where she had learned such perfect French so that he could brush up on his. He guessed he shouldn't really be all that surprised, the Gilmore girls remained absolute mysteries sometimes, and their abilities to monopolize conversations with men he was most definitely well-versed in.

"Now, Madame Lorelai, Logan mentioned that you were Rory's mere? Mais, c'est incroyable! You are too beautiful to be a mother!"

"Oh, Monsieur Lagerfield, you are too kind. But I must say, I am surprised to see you in your London boutique when the fall lines are barely months away from presentation."

"Madame, Logan has asked my help on something, and after he begged me with only the true desperation of a man in love, I could not resist."

"Karl, there was no begging! You can't make me out to be such a fool!"

"Oh, relax, Gulfstream, let the world's most brilliant designer think what he wants of you. After all, it's not like I'm going to be an absolute monster-in-law when you got Chanel to close their entire store for me."

After a good browsing through the boutique's wares with their creator explaining the intricacies by her side, Lorelai returned to the chaise where Logan was furiously texting instructions to his secretary on his tiny Blackberry keypad.

"So Gulfstream, playing hooky from the office again? I'm sure the paper will still go out without you." Lorelai baited him again, but Logan had dealt with her low expectations for a while and was truthfully a bit tired of them.

"Actually, I needed to approve the front page before it locked down, and I'm halfway through a merger with a Hong Kong advertising firm that specializes in online media." Her look transformed itself through several stages, but the predominant expression was shock, although Logan expected her to continue to hide any pride or admiration she may have felt for him.

"Ah, so that's why Rory's learning Chinese. And here I thought she was just trying to usurp my title as the Queen of the moo shu. So, you didn't really fly me across the ocean in your jet to buy me a pretty purse, now did you?"

Logan chose instead to call out to Karl to bring out Rory's dress.

"Oh..my…" Logan took her stunned silence as a good thing.

"So does that mean you like it?" He tried to conceal exactly how nervous he was, but his wavering voice betrayed him.

"Oh…my…" At this, Logan smirked a little. He knew he was good, but to render Lorelai nearly speechless was a feat almost unknown to man.

"So I guess this is where an explanation comes in, huh? Okay, Lorelai, I'll be honest with you: I've screwed up with Rory, I've hurt her, broken her heart and been an ass. Although she is my first relationship, I don't want to necessarily use that as an excuse. I know you still hate me and think that I'm not good enough for Rory, which I'm not, by the way, but I promise to wake up every single day and try to be good enough for her. I am in love with your daughter, Lorelai, always have been and always will be. So now, I'm in a familiar position again, groveling to you, asking for your permission. May I ask for Rory's hand in marriage? And please don't say no, since we've kind of already talked about it and I don't want to disappoint her."

"My dear Logan, I'm not entirely Mommy Dearest, and my daughter does have an adorable habit of mumbling things in her sleep about "Rory Huntzberger", so I'm up to speed on this one, for the most part. You are correct, however, in your assumption that I don't particularly care for you. Well, I don't particularly care for who you've been, mainly because you just scream 'Christopher' and both Rory and I have been burned whenever we played with that fire. But kid, you're getting better. From one parental disappointment to another, you're not half bad when you're not arrogantly smirking like a butt-faced miscreant. So, I will concede to you, Logan, but I also will give you a piece of advice on our cherished little girl: you know you can give her the world, but before you do, ask yourself if that's what she really wants. I'd hedge my bets on her just wanting you. Now that the serious stuff is out of the way, is there any chance Karl can make another one of these fabulous things?"

Logan laughed, happy that Lorelai approved both the dress and his actions. He was so struck with giddy, he even parted with his black card to indulge Lorelai for playing along so well.

Three hours and a large sum of money later, even with the generous discounts Monsieur Lagerfield tossed in, Logan and Lorelai headed to grab a bite before she was chauffeured back to the private air strip.

"Sooo Logan, do you want to have some fun?" Lorelai glared impishly over her giant cup of coffee.

"You mean more fun than watching you wheedle a massive mug away from the poor proprietor of this place?"

"I'm talking almost hilarious stories about Rory's childhood that I may or may not have captured on video, simply for posterity. And for VH1, in case they decide to switch their programming to 'Behind the Overseas Correspondent'."

"You are blessed with an evil gift, Lorelai."

"Oh please, Logan, from one wild child to another, do you really think your antics are any less amusing for me?"

"Is that why you didn't like me?" Logan hadn't meant to change the mood of the conversation into a serious one, but he felt more at ease with Lorelai since she had agreed to help him concoct the perfect proposal.

"Partly, yes, because I saw so much of myself in you, and while that should have actually relieved me that Rory sensed that as well, it scared me to think that I would be losing my daughter to someone that she thought was more entertaining or worldly or fun than I was. It hurt to lose that place in her heart, I mean, Rory and I grew up together, which is kind of what happens when you have a child at sixteen. I was angry, mostly at myself, for not realizing that my best friend also was growing up, and I was sad that you seemed to take my place as the 'super-cool party person' for her."

At this, Logan interjected, "However, I have yet to throw her a party where the clown was arrested. That distinct honor belongs to you."

Lorelai smiled, "Ah, yes, the eighth birthday party, one for the ages."

Logan turned serious again, hoping that Lorelai's answer would give him another opportunity to prove himself worthy for her daughter. "Did you regret it?"

"I regret not conning you into buying me Chanel ski-boots, but no, Logan, never once have I regretted Rory. I regret that she had to grow up without a lot of things you would never think of living without, like a real house, or her dad being around for all those father-daughter moments I tended to mock, but I don't regret giving her a childhood away from society and people who would have done nothing more than written her off as a scandal, no matter how many Ivies she got into or awards she won. And along with never regretting Rory, I will never regret how my life turned out because of her, either. Yes, to the outside world, I ran away from privilege, wealth and a seemingly perfect life. To me, I escaped such a crushing environment for the sake of my kid, so that she got to grow up knowing what being loved felt like, even if we couldn't afford half the things her friends had. Did Rory tell you about when we moved?"

"You moved? I thought you always have lived in Stars Hollow?"

"We always have, but we've only lived in our house for twelve years."

"Where else did you live? I'm sure Rory would have pointed out any other house you guys lived in, I mean, I've been on the town tour at least a dozen times, especially taking longer routes to avoid Miss Patty on her particularly lustful days."

"We lived at the Independence Inn, but she never showed you it because it burned down a while ago."

"You lived in a hotel? Seems like a rather Gilmore-esque beginning to a childhood."

"We didn't live in the hotel, I cleaned the hotel. We lived in the potting shed on the property. Until she was seven, Rory thought that was an actual house, given that she really had little concept of what they were. It was a simple, one-room kind of deal, the bath tub sat in the middle of it, around Rory's fifth birthday I made curtains to go around it so it would seem more like a real bathroom. But you know, she never once complained, not even when Santa only brought her one present instead of the mountains her friends got, not when she wore clothes made out of my old tee-shirts. The only time I really felt bad about how she grew up was when she was eleven. It was after my parents' Christmas party, and my mother and I had gotten into a spectacularly loud fight about something so trivial, I think it was that Rory had a run in her tights, but we couldn't afford a new pair that was up to my mother's standards. She heard me crying after we got home, and all she did was curl up beside me, put her hand on my heart, and thank me for choosing to have her. Me, being thanked by my own child for not taking the easy way out. That made me feel so selfish, that I purposely took her away from people who could have given her everything, and it scared me. That's what made me understand the only thing Rory's ever wanted her entire life: to be wanted. I think that's why she was so scared in the beginning with you, kid, because she knew you didn't need her or anything, and she wanted you."

Logan felt that this was yet another time he needed to lay his heart out on the line. "That's what I'm scared of, Lorelai. That she's not going to want or need me like I need her."

"Oh kid," Lorelai's voice softened to a register Logan had never heard before. "That's one thing you'll never have to worry about with Rory. You're it, hon, in case you didn't know. Her mind was made up for her about you the minute you kissed."

"Mine was made up the minute she looked at me, her eyes freak me out like you'll never believe."

"Why, was the mighty Logan Huntzberger just admitting that his playboy reputation was brought down by a simple bat of the eyelashes?"

"The hell, Lorelai. You know the power of the eyes, what can I say, they're my Achilles heel."

"Not a bad spot to be defenseless, eh?"

"Haven't minded all that much, except when she was angry or hurt, then those baby blues of hers were absolute torture."

"Oh Limo Boy, you've got it bad! Can't say I mind hearing that my daughter's future husband, the love of her life, is in deep as well."

"I'm all in, Lorelai, all in." She smiled a little, but Logan couldn't really read her expression after he told her that. She seemed wistful, like she escaped to a place where she was untouchable, lost in her thoughts. He knew the look though, sometimes he found Rory with that same gleam in her eyes, and he knew enough not to press it.

A few moments later, she snapped to attention and grinned deviously at him once more. "So Huntzberger, according to my mother, Rory's in line to get quite the rock from you when you finally make her an honest woman."

"Sadly, it is Huntzberger tradition to pass down the storied engagement ring from son to son, so yes, there is a garish diamond that will be on Rory's finger, hopefully for society parties only."

"So if she's never planning on wearing it, does that mean someone, say me, could be entrusted with its safekeeping between balls?"

"Yes, if you were that someone with a heavily guarded bank vault and a secret access code. But, I almost don't want to give it to her. I mean, I know she deserves it, but she'll hate it, it practically weighs down the hand, and it's almost the antithesis of Rory."

"How big is this ring that we're talking about?"

"Six carat emerald cut center stone, three carat emerald side stones." He sighed, almost hating how mechanical he sounded, tallying up the ring from almost an insurance point of view.

"We're talking twelve carats?"

Logan grimaced. "Not counting the infinity band diamonds, yes."

"Jesus, there's more? Do you have any idea how much that's worth?"

"Umm, I think the last appraisal put it over two million, but I'm not really up on that figure."

"You're telling me that my daughter will be wearing a ring that's technically worth more than my life?"

"Only when she has to. I think she likes the ring I got her already a lot more."

"Oh yeah, she never takes it off, much like you, I assume," she said, indicating his platinum band, a constant presence on his finger. He looked down, shrugged and told her, "A few of my neighbors thought we were married, and it's become a regular part of my life here. I take it off only when I'm at events I know I'll be photographed at, or when I'm home, just to avoid the crap that would come with it."

"You mean like the dozens of girls that are going to mourn the loss of you, much like they did when you and Rory first got together?"

"Oh jeez, she told you about that?"

"Told me? HA! I camped out in her dorm room just to be closer to all the rumors and gossip flying around Yale when that happened. I was even mistaken for her at a store in New Haven when the store clerk greeted me and some of the snots overhead my name."

"Ah, so that's why the rumor of me sleeping with Colin's ex-step-mother kept popping up. People thought you were her." Realization dawned on him and he had to laugh. He had to laugh at his entire experience with Lorelai today. It hadn't gone as expected, but he learned that rarely did anything go as expected with her. The range of emotions he felt today, from absolute fear to a sort of contentment and acceptance, surprised him. Lorelai cleared her throat and shot him a quick, teasing smile.

"So, kiddo, I think it's high time I headed back to Rory's side of the Atlantic, don't you think?"

"Oh shoot, Lorelai, you're right. Rory's gonna be suspicious if I don't call her soon."

"Before I go, I just wanted to say something. You're a good kid, Logan, good for Rory too. I'm so happy my little girl gets to spend her life with someone she really loves. And don't think just because she's changing her name doesn't mean we don't think of you as a Gilmore. We don't need a wedding and a license to tell you, welcome to our little corner of the world. You're home, kid, we're your home." With that, Lorelai got up and left Logan sitting at the table, thinking about her last statement. He had little doubt about the sincerity in her voice, and yet again, he was shocked by the actions of the Gilmore girls.

Logan spent the next few weeks buried in work, struggling not only with the thousands of things he was now responsible for, but also attempting to plan a surprise proposal worthy of Rory. He sighed as another knock on his office door stole his precious little privacy from him. "Mr. Huntzberger? Miss Lorelai Gilmore is on line three."

"Thanks Judy, I'll take it in here. Logan Huntzberger"

"Jeez, kid, I'm almost tempted to call back and be blown away again by the amazing amount of enthusiasm in your voice."

"I'm sorry Lor, I'm beat. Between the Chinese businessmen who don't believe in sleep and the massive Web campaign, I forgot what the world looks like outside of my office."

"Poor little Logie-bear!"

"Okay, low blow. Where did you hear that?"

"My glorious mini-me of course, she was telling me all the nicknames your insipid former bed bunnies used."

"That's random, even for you two. How the hell did you get on that topic?" He shook his head, utterly confused at what Lorelai was telling him."

"Movie night, of course. We were in the video store, and Rory mentioned she wanted to see 'Capote', but I countered with 'To Kill A Mockingbird' to complete our Gregory Peck night, and Lulu wanted to know why people hurt the cute little birdies."

"I'm so not following, which means I've spent far too much time away from Ace."

"Short story shorter, we decided that Lulu's question pretty much resembled any and all dinner conversation you had on your 'dates', if you can call them that."

"To tell you the truth, they were usually stupider than that. Not like I actually listened or anything, but the few words I did catch usually were 'trust-fund', 'marriage' and 'Mrs.-insert name here- Huntzberger."

"Oh, Logie-bear's so silly! Giggle, hair toss, giggle!"

"Lorelai, seriously."

"Oh Logie-bear, my name's not Lorelai, silly! It's Muffy Glockenspiel, but I think Muffy Huntzberger sounds so much better!"

"I'm gonna cancel that order I called Karl about, you can kiss your Chanel boots goodbye!" He went straight for the jugular, knowing she would cease with the affectations and provide the conversation with a valid point.

"You wouldn't….okay, so I was really calling to chat up my favorite soon to be son and see how you were coming along with your end." Logan smiled at her choice of words: he had rarely been called son without some implication of failure or disappointment. The way Lorelai tossed it around freely in their conversation meant so much to him; acceptance, support, even a modicum of love for him. He understood that Lorelai meant it as well, she really saw him as her son, not her daughter's soon to be husband.

"Well, I had a weak moment and I trusted Finn with some of the editing, so I'm crossing my fingers that nothing too awful shows up there, but with him, trust is always an issue."

"Oh, don't worry about our Australian friend, Logan. I've got it all taken care of…" She laughed manically, simultaneously worrying and comforting Logan. Lorelai could handle Finn with surprising skill, and his friend was almost in love with Rory's mother as well. He wasn't aware of all the particulars, but Rory had told him that Finn was a regular face in Stars Hollow for Gilmore movie nights.

"What about you? How's it looking for me?"

"I'm saying two weeks. I am wining and dining my friend, repairing our relationship back to its former state. They pinky-swear not to ruin your night."

"So two weeks it is then. Remember, tell no one we spoke."

"Roger that, the fox is in the hen house. I repeat, the fox is in the hen house."

Logan chuckled. "I thought you would appreciate that. See you in a few weeks Lorelai."

Logan paced nervously back and forth in the confined space of the church bell tower, happy that his hideout afforded him a view of Stars Hollow, but anxious to see that the day would go off without a hitch. The hours upon hours he had spent planning this day made him even more worried that somehow his plan would fall apart and she would be disappointed. He attempted to tailor this day for her, acquiescing to her wish that it not be flamboyant or obscenely expensive. Oh, he shelled out enough for it to not even be remotely near cheap, but he spent his money wisely to make her happy. Phase 1 was scheduled to commence in only a few moments' time.

He smiled as he heard the strains of Stevie Wonder's 'Isn't She Lovely' fill the Stars Hollow square, and watched the almost choreographed movements of the townsfolk as they circled the tiny place. Then it struck him that Miss Patty probably did choreograph today, knowing Rory's insane hometown, there had most likely been a few thousand town meetings about it. Of course, Logan had approached the town elders together with Lorelai, he had learned enough from the snippets Rory had told him about Taylor's inane obsessive need to approve all happenings in Stars Hollow. Right on cue, his cell buzzed in his pocket with 'Lorelai' on the ID.

"Classy first number, Huntzberger, I must say, if there ever is a song to wake someone up at an ungodly hour, Stevie Wonder would be on my list. Metallica also would be on there, but so would Stevie."

"Thanks, I know Lane had to dig deep into her audiophile brain folders to push aside all the whiney Morrissey."

"So, what else is on the Logan plus Rory equals forever soundtrack?"

"A little Frank, a little Bono, I have reviewed my Gilmore Girls rule book, and really, what else says 'I love you' like U2?"

"I knew I liked you! A good man always knows his Irish rockers."

Logan smiled; Lorelai and Rory were so completely alike, it was almost scary. He couldn't wait for the day when his own kids reached that point in their lives. He imagined his adorable daughter, who would of course be a daddy's girl, and his impish son, wondering what qualities each of them would inherit from himself and Rory. He hoped they would have their mother's delicious eyes and his sense of adventure, and he also hoped they would never have a day where they weren't told 'I love you', like his own childhood. For as many reservations as he carried about his ability to be a father, Rory quelled each and every single one.

What if I'm away on business?

If we're not with you, exploring whatever city while you're in the office, then we'll have videophones and webcams.

What if I miss a soccer game?

Then I'll make sure you're their baseball coach and Grandpa Mitchum can be your assistant.

What if I'm an awful father?

That's not going to happen, babe. When we have kids, it's inevitable that we're going to make mistakes. But we are going to love our children and tell them that every day of their lives. Logan, half of fatherhood is just showing up!

You totally conned that from the Latin, didn't you?

I may or may not have added my own little Gilmore twist. But you know that you'll be a good father, Logan.

And you're going to be the best mother, Ace.

You know that saying that all the time isn't going to get you out of diaper duty, right?

Hey, I had to try.

The opening strains of 'God Only Knows' could be heard both through Logan's cell phone as well as the windows of the bell tower.

"Nice touch, Logan, going with the French cover instead of the Brian Wilson version."

"Hey, I wanted to show her that I am a man of the world."

"Um, ew. Don't get sappy on me. Anyway, I hear the sounds of the coffee pot being emptied, so I will make the first delivery of the sunflowers and call you after we hit Luke's for breakfast."

Several hours later, Stars Hollow looked like it had been cluster-bombed by the Connecticut floral industry. Everywhere Logan could see, there were sunflowers, and every person scurrying around also carried at least one. The sappy music continued to play, but he made sure to slip in some Barry White, Tom Jones and Marvin Gaye, just for his own amusement. He was surprised that Rory hadn't called him, or at least texted him, especially since he had seen her attempt to make her way to Luke's, but she had been foiled every few feet by someone else shoving flowers at her. He silently congratulated himself on his masterful mind, and thanked his mother for her mysterious gift of extracting utter compliance from florists. He worked out how he felt about his family accepting Rory; it wasn't the worst that could happen. He almost liked that his father and Rory got along, because she offered him a different perspective on the man he had pegged as emotionally icy. His mother also seemed to make her peace with her future daughter-in-law; from what Rory told him, Shira was very disturbed by Honor's announcement, and decided that Rory was her non-pregnant ally against her impending grandmother status. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was about time for him to slip on his tuxedo and sneak down towards his next destination.

Logan sat nervously on the couch in the Black, White and Red bookstore, waiting for Kirk to finish setting up the projection screen. Finn was milling around in the background, admiring his handiwork with some of the photographs he had assembled.

"Man, that one of you two at the scavenger hunt is amazing! You're right, angry does work for her!"

"God, you're telling me you actually managed to capture the exact moment she found out she was the one who had to streak through Sterling during midterms?"

"And miss the look on your face when you thought she was going to castrate you? Never! That single picture is a monumental moment in your relationship."

"How do you figure?" His drunk Australian friend piqued his interest with his flippant comment, an unusually insightful one for the intoxicated party animal.

"Well, it was Reporter Girl's first event as a member, and by the time we reached the library, you had actually managed to convince her that the entire campus seeing her naked wasn't going to be a big deal since you were going to cover her with your body. Added to the fact that you both were sporting shades straight from Risky Business, so you could barely make out your eyebrows."

"Your point?"

"Mate, you offered yourself up as a sacrificial lamb for her sake, and you don't voluntarily strip for just anyone, not since she came around."

"I'm still missing it, help me out here."

"Well, maybe this picture will clue you in." With this, Finn shoved a Polaroid into his hands, then scampered a few couches away for protection.

"FINN! How long have you had a picture of my wife's butt? If I find out there's a copy of this circulating on the internet, you can kiss ever fathering children goodbye!" Logan was so blinded by his rage, he didn't notice the modifications Finn had made to the grainy picture.

"Your wife? That rolled off a bit too easily, mate. Did you guys elope?"

"No, we've just become accustomed to calling each other that, my neighbors think we're married already."

"Ah, so that's why there's a suspicious platinum accoutrement that never leaves your left hand, and what do you know, Reporter Girl has a matching one! Clever, young Huntz, clever."

"Finn, you can't tell anyone, okay? Oh my god, Finn, what's written on our butts? You can't be serious." Logan looked at the text wrapped around the image of him and Rory: "Congratulations to the future Mr. and Mrs. Logan and Rory Huntzberger! Their future's so bright, they gotta wear shades!"

"It's just a wedding announcement, mate, no need to get your panties knotted."

"When did you make this?"

"Right after the event. Don't worry, it's strictly LDB."

"But that was like six months ago! Nobody knew I was planning on proposing!"

"Hah, you think you're that unreadable? Let's just make a deal; in exchange for you getting the hard copy of that photo of Rory's delectable backside, I get insider information on the 'I do' date so I can win the pool."

"Deal. But do not ever refer to any part of Rory as delicious, luscious or delectable. That is reserved for me, the husband." He watched as Finn staggered back, clutching his heart.

"It can't be! Logan Huntzberger, the mythical creature of the night, the stuff that playboy legends are made out of, called himself a husband! I must drink until I can drink no more!"

"Hah, thank you Finn. I'll call you afterwards and let you know, Spencer Tracy."

Logan checked his watch again, wanting to time this perfectly. "Okay, Kirk, she'll be here in about a minute and a half. Start rolling!"

The theater dimmed, and Logan's attention was drawn to the black and white images on the screen. Finn really had been masterful, piecing together a scene that resembled an old movie.

"Whatcha watching?" Logan smiled as he heard her voice behind him.

"Something special. You want in?" He still hadn't turned around, afraid of how much self-control seeing her would require. He felt a warm body pressed up against him, his fingers meeting raw silk.

"Hi you." She breathed, staring deep into his eyes. He took her in, his eyes slowing straying down, appreciating each and every curve of her figure. He noted how perfectly the dress fit her, taking his breath away. He knew she understood his gaze and that it was not made of pure lust; oh yes, he wanted to rip the dress off her, but for now, he was content just basking in the happy glow she radiated.

"So what's this something special? It looks old, there's a plane, so I'm guessing Casablanca?"

"Of all the gin joints in the world, she had to walk into mine." He knew quoting the film would make her smile, and he was rewarded when she played along.

"You know," she said as she snuggled in closer towards him, "I always wished she didn't have to leave him." She sounded wistful, but Logan felt her tense up as she paid more attention to the screen.

"Logan, that's not Humphrey Bogart, that's, that's…us!"

"Aw, you always were my little ace reporter!"

"Why are you watching a movie about us?"

"Shh, this is my favorite part." He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm silently as she drew in a breath sharply when she saw what flashed onscreen. Finn had assembled a collection of the pair's many quotations about each other, ranging from Rory's butt-faced miscreant to Logan's girlfriend grimace. He had also masterfully inserted love sayings in between their own words, so that even Logan was impressed.

"What do you say we head on out of here? I heard the next feature's kind of a rough cut." He stood up and took her hand, gently tugging her towards the door. He finally got the full effect of the dress, and his breath was caught in his throat. She was radiant, moreso than he had ever seen her before, pulsating with a slightly different rhythm than he was used to. He knew that he would always imagine her like this, although this sight of her would probably compete with her coming down the aisle and holding their first child.

They reached their destination, the gazebo, surrounded only by candlelight and sunflowers. It was starting to be a bit chillier than it had been earlier, but Logan couldn't feel a thing. He grabbed Rory's waist and mumbled, "May I have this dance?"

She smiled a little and jokingly said, "Maybe if there was some music, Limo Boy."

"Anything the lady wants, the lady gets!" With a sweep of his hand, twinkle lights lit up and the strains of Moon River began to fill the air. Logan also saw the townspeople and some of their Yale friends start to make a border around the square, each holding a candle. The effect was beautiful, and Logan knew Rory finally understood what this night was about when they saw Lorelai's face illuminated by the taper she held. Logan turned his attention back to Rory; "So now, may I have this dance?" He pulled her into his arms, sighing a little when she pressed into him. They swayed a little, back and forth, entranced by their song and the atmosphere. Logan licked his lips, then took a step back from Rory, looking her deep in the eyes.

"I've said from the beginning that you're special, that you're different to me. You make me better, you make me stronger, you make me who I am. I love how you refuse to talk to me in the morning unless I'm holding a cup of coffee, I love that you nag me about finishing assignments, I love how you brush up against me when I'm making dinner. I love holding your hand when we're walking, I love brushing the hair off your face, I love looking into your eyes when I make you mad. I love making up with you after fights, I love knowing everything about you only to discover something I never thought possible. Rory, I love you. I love all of you. I love who I am when I'm with you. I want it to be you and me, just like this, every single day. I can't promise that I won't make you cry sometimes, but I can promise to always find a way to make it better. I will promise, however, to love you forever and for always. Rory, you're my soul mate, you're who I want to wake up to every morning. I want to share my life with you, truly make it our life. I want to fight with you over the morning paper, have soccer games in the backyard, and go to sleep every night holding you in my arms. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes told him everything he needed to know. During his speech, he had somehow managed to drop to one knee and take both of her hands. She was trying to contain the tears, but she was smiling uncontrollably. Her lips broke apart, and instead of a yes, she threw out, "Aren't you forgetting something? Like the giant rock my mother told me about?" He chuckled, then grasped her left hand and slid off her ring. He held it up for her to read the inscription. "I will love you forever and for always." She brought her free hand to her mouth, surprised. "That wasn't there before! I've studied that ring a million times and I have never seen that!"

"I knew you wouldn't want the 'giant rock', as you put it, so I took the liberty of modifying this ring for you, after all, my dear wife to be, I must meet certain standards." She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his ear. "I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and that life is starting now." Logan smiled, happily sated. She said yes. She wanted him, really wanted him, all of him, forever.