Disclaimer: Amy Sherman-Palladino owns the wacky and wonderful Gilmore Girls. Rilo Kiley sings "Portions for Foxes."

A/N: This is a one-shot for cutiepiegirl, my new beta! Also, this really helped the creativeness, so if anyone has any prompts they're thinking of, feel free to send them my way and I'll see what I can do!

And the talkin' leads to touchin'

Then the touchin' leads to sex

And then there is no mystery left

-Portions For Foxes

Finn bolted up in bed. Who had the nerve to wake him up at – he checked his watch – 12:30 in the afternoon? There was another short rap at the door and he sighed as he tossed off his covers and shuffled out of his room towards the front door. Finn saw as he passed the coffee table there was a note on it from Stephanie, something about being out of milk. Damn.

On the other side of the door stood none other than Rory Gilmore. She let go of the bottom lip that had been between her teeth and slowly let her eyes meet his. "Hi."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Well if it isn't my girl friday. What's with the get up, love?" He asked, referring to her bowler hat and trench coatensemble.

"Got a hot scoop. It'll knock ol' Hearst out of his socks," she replied.

He smirked and stood aside to let her into the apartment. "I was just about to make some coffee. How much do you want?"

"How much?" she repeated.

He met her blue eyes again. "Don't play coy with me, Gilmore."

She laughed. "Just one cup for now." She shifted her weight to one side and Finn watched her eyes dart around the apartment.

"They're not here," he quickly assured her.

"That's not what I –" she began to protest.

"Yes you were." He smiled at her. "It's okay, you want me all to yourself. I totally understand; I'm irresistible."

Rory laughed nervously and indicated to the kitchen. "So that coffee?"

"I see where your priorities lie," he teased "coming right up, love. Make yourself at home."

He hummed to himself as he ground the coffee beans to use in the French press. Was it his imagination, or was Rory acting a bit... strange? Well, stranger than usual. He knew that she and Logan had just had an epic blowout of "Ross-and-Rachel-We-Were-On-A-Break" status. So it was strange enough that she was there at all. He shook his head of those thoughts; he was probably imagining it anyway. Or maybe she was distracted by his hard abs. In retrospect, that was definitely it. He knew he should have put a shirt on before answering the door.

As he rounded the corner out of the kitchen he nearly dropped the coffeehe was holding. This was not fucking happening. It was not possible. His life was not a goddamn romantic comedy. Wacky misunderstandings like this just did not fucking happen in real life.

Finn backed out of the room into the kitchen, took a deep breath, and tried again. He was just imagining things. When he went back into the living room he nearly cursed out loud. Rory Gilmore was still standing there and she had most definitely made herself at home. The tights he had thought she was wearing under her trench coat turned out to be stockings attached to the garter around her thighs. His eyes trailed up her smooth stomach achingly slow until he reached her breasts, confined by the flimsiest excuse for a black, lacy bra he'd ever seen.

He willed himself to tear his eyes away from her chest and to look at her in the eyes. "Ms. Gilmore," he choked out, "are you trying to seduce me?"

"Is it working?" she purred and Finn could feel himself getting hard. Where did she learn to talk like that? This was not the good girl next door that he knew. And this was decidedly not the girl that Logan had broken.

"I'm sorry, love, I seem to be confused. I thought that Rory Gilmore came over to talk to me." He set the coffee down and grabbed the trench coat she had draped over couch. "Do you know where I could find her?"

Rory's cheeks flamed red and she grabbed at her coat that Finn was holding out for her. He watched in amusement as the blush spread down to her chest until she covered it up tightly. "I am so sorry, Finn, I don't know what came over me," she babbled.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the couch next to him. "It's okay, love, it happens to even the strongest of willed women. They all succumb to my charms sooner or later."

She buried her face in her hands and the trench coat slipped a little to reveal black lace and that was not helping at all. "I just thought that, you know..." she trailed off.

"That I wanted you?" He sighed and put an arm around her. "Is this about Logan?"

"No," came the muffled reply.

Rory Gilmore was a bad liar, even muffled.

"Okay then, love, so you came over here in the skimpiest lingerie you own days after you and Logan fight because you were done fighting how you feel about me?"

"Yes," she replied, though it came out more like a question than anything.

Finn tightened his grip on her. "You are a gorgeous young woman who makes ridiculously idiotic mistakes. And I'm not going to be one of those mistakes, darling. As painful and clichéd at this is, I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"I'm sorry, Finn. I don't know what came over me. I just thought that maybe if I slept with you it would help and I wouldn't think so much about those bridesmaids anymore." She sucked in a breath and grabbed the abandoned coffee. "This is good," she murmured.

"And you were hoping to make Logan jealous." He held up a hand to silence her protests. "It's okay. It happens more than you'd think, actually."

Rory wrapped her arms around his neck and images of what he could be doing instead flashed unbidden through his head. He pulled back abruptly. "Well, love, I would be honored to have you here longer, but I have to be getting ready for class. I'm terribly sorry for this."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't question him about it. "Don't mention this to anyone, please?"

He smiled at her. "Our little secret, darling."

"Thank you, Finn. For being such a good friend."

"Anytime."

He watched as she gathered up her things and walked out, before locking the door behind her and turning on the TV. He really had just turned down a beautiful, willing girl. "Fuck being noble," he muttered as he grabbed a fifth of tequila to add to his coffee.