Title: One Fine Day
Summary: What if Rory had bumped into Logan in New York? Set AU in 'Lorelai's Graduation Day' when she goes to see Jess. Sophies.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, however much I want to. Some information and lines taken from the transcripts on TwizTV.
AN: This is my first fanfic. And I apologize for any errors, whether it be in formatting or writing. Be kind, please!
Oh, and there a few minor changes from the show. Dean and Rory are sort of in limbo at the moment. And my only experience in New York has been a week long vacation last year, so most of these places (save a few) are just made up.
RLRLRLRL
What on earth was she doing here?
Rory stared up at the skyscrapers, feeling completely out of her element. She stuck out like a sore thumb in her Chilton uniform among all those urbanites and movie stars who no one really knew but considered themselves stars anyway because of one little movie. Plus, she stuck out anyway because she sure did not feel comfortable. At all.
Really, what on earth was she doing in New York? She should have been in class at Chilton, diligently taking notes and listening to Paris' diatribes about Henemen and Branch. And yet here she was, standing on a random street in the Big Apple. She'd been intending to see Jess, for reasons that she wasn't quite sure about, but now it just seemed like a stupid reason to skip school. God, Lorelai was going to throw a fit. Or possibly congratulate her, you never knew with that crazy lady.
So yes, the idea of seeing Jess was a tad daunting. She could just imagine how it would happen—Jess would probably look at her, grunt in true Luke-fashion (maybe it was a hereditary Danes trait), and they'd spend the day in awkward conversation. She was wearing a cast, after all, that the entire town of Stars Hollow blamed him for. And she was still, sort-of-kind-of, with Dean. Although that was another thing Rory had been thinking over. She knew she was an expert in the art of denial, but it was downright impossible to deny that their relationship just wasn't the same. Lately it seemed like all the sparks she'd felt with him when she was sixteen had disappeared. Fizzled. Just a few days ago they'd had another fight—one of many in the past few months—about Rory's apparent indifference during a tedious action movie that Dean had insisted they go to. So now, according to him, they were "taking some time to get themselves sorted out and everything."
She shook her head. Not the time to be mulling over matters like that. More like the time to be figuring out where the heck she was.
"Excuse me, are you lost?" came a very masculine voice.
Rory jumped, nearly crashing into said masculine voice. She looked up to see a rather good-looking guy, with blonde hair and designer clothes that screamed 'rich.' He was staring back at her with sparkling brown eyes and a smirk that just reeked of amusement. Oh boy, Rory gulped. He wasn't just good-looking, he was hot. Kind of like Tristan hot, except he seemed older. And a little less like he was wondering how good she'd be 'between the sheets.'
"Hi," was all she could think of. Good answer, Rory. Very articulate.
He looked more amused by her answer. "Hi yourself. So you lost?"
Rory bit her lip. "Well, I'm supposed to be in school, but I left before first period and took a bus here. I'm not sure why; it could have been Paris' rants about Berkeley, because God knows anyone would get a headache listening to her for awhile. Actually, I was going to go see a friend, but we're in kind of a weird stage, so I don't think I will. Now I'm just sort of trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I could really use some coffee, actually, I only had one cup today. Oh! And I need to find a present for my mother." She took a deep breath.
"Talk much?" chuckled the guy. "So… in other words, you are lost."
"Yes."
"And… you have no idea where you're going."
"Not really, no."
"You ever been to New York?" he asked curiously.
Rory paused. "Well, my mom and I came here to see the Bangles."
"The Bangles, huh?"
"And another time to shop, but she couldn't find a good parking place and all of the parking lots were a total rip-off, so she kept making U-turns and cutting off taxis and we were being screamed at in so many different languages that we just turned around and drove home and bought a Hummel at the curio store in Stars Hollow." Rory fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "I ramble when I'm nervous."
"I didn't notice." He studied her for a moment then held out a hand. "Well, since you're lost and have yet to figure out a destination, let me introduce myself. Logan Huntzberger."
Her eyes widened as she shook his hand. Mitchum Huntzberger's son. Mitchum Huntzberger the newspaper mogul. That explained the clothes. Wouldn't Paris have a coronary if she knew what kind of 'contacts' Rory was inadvertently making? "I'm Rory Gilmore."
Logan raised his eyebrows. "Would your grandparents be Richard and Emily, by any chance?" When she nodded, he grinned. "Well, Miss Gilmore, it seems we're not strangers after all. Your grandparents are very nice people. Richard plays a mean game of golf."
"You know them?"
"Been to a couple of their parties. I must say, your grandmother has excellent food. Hey, I just got out of a business meeting with my dad, and I don't have to get back to Yale until tonight. If you want I can take you around New York," he offered.
He went to Yale? Her grandparents would love that. And probably did. "Well, I… I really should be in school," Rory hesitated.
Logan rolled his eyes. "You already skipped school. And you definitely don't look like someone who cuts class often, so one day is not going to hurt you." He paused. "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it."
She snickered. "Right, Ferris."
"I've been saving that up for awhile. Anyway, do you really want to put up with another day at Chilton when you could explore the city with me?" He grinned arrogantly.
Rory was surprised. "How'd you know I go to Chilton?"
"The uniform, of course." He let his eyes drift over her body, then winked at her lasciviously. His grin widened when she blushed furiously. To her surprise, his perusal didn't make her feel icky or disgusted the way Tristan had always done. Just a blush and a few tingles. "So how about it, Gilmore?"
She paused. What harm could it do? It wasn't as if she was wandering around with a total stranger, like he'd said. And today really wasn't a day to be cooped up in Chilton Hell. Maybe she could even find something good for her mother's graduation present. In that second, Rory decided to throw caution and sensibility to the wind. "Why not?"
His face broke out in a smug grin that said he had known from the beginning that she would give in. "That's the spirit."
"So, what are we going to do?" Rory asked tentatively.
Logan waved his hands around dramatically. "The question isn't 'what are we going to do,' the question is 'what aren't we going to do?'"
"I should have seen that coming. Is Ferris Bueller your favorite movie or something?" Rory muttered. "No, let me guess. You fancy yourself as Ferris?"
"Well, I am devilishly charming…" Rory scoffed. "So, did you say you wanted coffee? There's a Starbucks down the street and we can work our way from there," suggested Logan, placing a hand behind her and guiding her down the sidewalk.
Her face lit up. "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
RLRLRLRLRL
Rory didn't think she had ever had so much fun with anyone other than her mom or Lane. Logan was definitely a charmer; he was the type that you could dislike at first—Lorelai would have hated him, society boy that he was—then tolerate him, and then bam! He'd have wormed his way in without you realizing it until it was too late.
After getting her coffee fix, Logan had proposed they ask each other random questions to get to know each other better. They'd continually surprised each other with their answers. So far, other than the rich boy factor, Lorelai would have approved of him—he could clearly hold his own in any argument and was educated enough in both pop culture and literature to keep up with any Gilmore Girl. Although his taste in music was awful. Lane would have keeled over in horror.
"Favorite movie?" she asked as they strolled leisurely down the street.
He furrowed his brow, thinking. "Like you discovered earlier, Ferris Bueller is great. And maybe some Peter Sellers."
"Good, good," Rory said approvingly. "You have taste. I would have thought maybe you'd say something along the lines of Jackass: The Movie. Or even the special edition DVD of Showgirls."
Logan placed a hand over his heart in mock injury. "I'm hurt you think so low of me." Then he smirked. "But Colin, Finn and I do appreciate the Showgirls."
Rory snorted. "I'm sure you three do." She'd been well-informed of Logan's legendary best friends.
"And what might your favorites be?"
"Oh, I couldn't choose only one," laughed Rory. "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, of course. Casablanca, that's a classic. Breakfast Club, maybe Audrey Hepburn." She suddenly realized she had no idea where Logan was taking her. "Um, Logan? Where are we going?"
"You'll see. I promise you'll enjoy it," was his answer.
Rory pulled a face and stopped. "You haven't told me any of the places we've been going. And you should know by now that I hate surprises."
"No you don't," Logan laughed at her. "I know you don't. Come on, I took you to the prerequisite Metropolitan Museum as you requested. You gotta give me this one."
Rory sniffed. "The Metropolitan was a must. And you've already kept several of our destinations a secret more than once before."
"And you love it," he winked, then grabbed her hand and started walking again.
She really did. Rory hated to admit it, and she would never tell Logan for fear of his already large ego expanding even more, but he had the uncanny ability of choosing to go to places that she would enjoy the most. He'd first taken her to a toy store, the biggest one she had ever been to, and Rory had been beyond thrilled to find a three foot high plush bunny the color of cotton candy.
"Oh my god, look! Giant bunnies! Aren't they adorable?" Rory rushed from the top of the stairs and across the floor to a shelf where a row of alarmingly pink rabbits were sitting complacently side by side.
Logan ambled over, a dubious look on his face. "Yeah, adorable," he said without enthusiasm.
"You don't think they're adorable, do you?" Rory sighed. "I guess you'd rather be looking at the G.I. Joe's."
"Ha!" Logan scoffed. "No way. I was a Legos boy."
Rory rolled her eyes. "Okay, then, Lego Boy. How can you not find these bunnies cute? They're big, and soft, and just asking for a hug."
Logan frowned. "I'm a guy, Rory."
She inwardly shivered. Hearing her name come from his lips was, well, definitely making her melt. Which was not good, since she had a very loving and devoted boyfriend waiting for her signal, she reminded herself. "So? Lots of guys like pink, and lots of guys like stuffed animals, too. And hugs. You're just insecure in your manhood."
He laughed. "You and Finn would get along really well, you know that?"
Rory flipped the price tag on the stuffed animal in her arms and gasped. "Sixty dollars, wow. That's really expensive and not in my budget. I can just imagine Mom's face if I brought that bill to her." She sighed regretfully as she put the bunny back. "Oh well. You want to look at the Legos now?"
"Yeah, I'm going to go look for a present for my cousin's baby. Just turned three years old; he wants a Lego pirate ship that I haven't been able to find anywhere else," explained Logan. "You can look around here some more." He headed off to talk to a store clerk with one last trademark Huntzberger smirk.
And then they'd gone to the Metropolitan Museum, where Rory had excitedly dragged an amused Logan into in-depth discussions in the exhibits. She'd wanted to spend a little bit more time, but then he'd told her that it would take hours to fully examine each room, and managed to pull her out after not very much time. Disappointed, Rory resolved to come back later.
Then had come lunchtime. They'd gone to a store and bought a large basket of food (sandwiches, chips, strawberries, chocolate chip cookies that apparently Logan loved, coffee…) to bring for a picnic in Central Park.
Rory had teased him with her newly acquired knowledge of New York's sights.
"Washington State Park is so much cooler, Logan," Rory sighed in mock regret. "You clearly don't know New York all that well. Pity."
"If I say it's cool, it's cool," Logan replied lazily as he laid stretched out on the proverbial blue and white checked blanket (bought in Soho, which Rory had instantly decided that she and Lorelai would have to raid in future). They'd eaten the entire picnic basket including the apples, which Rory had at first refused to eat due to its violation of the Gilmore Code. She gave in eventually to Logan's excellent persuasive skills; he made eating an apple seem so… delectable. Like they did in those stupid KFC commercials.
"I don't think you'd know cool if it hit you in the face." Of course, she was lying. If Logan decided one day that he wanted to wear a polyester leotard and grow a dyed-pink mullet, the rest of the world would most likely go along with it, cool as cucumbers.
Rory rummaged through the basket for a water bottle. "I mean, look at your music repertoire. Awful stuff."
"Thanks," said Logan dryly. "So, favorite thing to do in the world?"
"Curl up at home with a good book and a cup of coffee, then watch movies with my mom and eat massive amounts of junk food," Rory answered, smiling dreamily as she pictured it.
"Sounds nice," Logan nodded. "I guess I'd say my favorite thing to do would be reading a good book too. Maybe with one of Finn's snickerdoodles. They're the best."
"Finn cooks?" Rory was surprised. The eccentric Australian that Logan had described didn't seem too culinary-oriented. More like bar-oriented.
"Very well, too. He makes a mean four-cheese lasagna." Logan laughed, "It's pretty shocking to find out, isn't it? You'd think Finn would be more interested in the wine cellar than the kitchen. But he told me that it's a great skill to pick up the ladies."
Rory laughed with him. "The light is shed. Your friend appears to be quite a surprising specimen."
Logan agreed, "You never know what will happen with Finn. I'd tell you a few more stories, but a lot of them feature either illegal activities or a naked Finn. And you don't want the image of a naked Finn dancing in your head, believe me."
"Illegal, huh?" Rory shook her head. "It doesn't look like your life is lacking in drama. You could sell it to HBO and make millions." She cut him a sassy grin. "Life as Millionaires—the true, sad story of arrogant men too rich for their own good."
"Ouch. But you're right. I'd like to have some peace and quiet in my life. That's why the book idea is so appealing. Being wrapped up in a whole other world's story, when nothing else matters. No jerks in the lovely form of my father."
Rory sighed sympathetically. "And no worries, no Chilton, no Paris, no phone calls, no Dean—" Rory stopped abruptly.
Logan sat up slightly. "No Dean? He's your boyfriend, right?" They'd talked about it earlier. "Why would your favorite thing to do include being left alone by your boyfriend? He sounds like the ideal guy from what you've told me. Nice, attentive, obviously head over heels for you…"
Rory cleared her throat. "We're… kind of in a… we're in a… a sort of… weird stage right now. We just need some space from each other. We're actually on a break."
He nodded slowly, eyeing her thoughtfully. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Rory began to feel awkward and opened her backpack in search of a book. Finally, she emerged victorious. To Logan's bewilderment and amusement, she raised it to her nose with the same blissful expression on her face that Logan had witnessed in Starbuck's, and inhaled, purring like the cat that had not only gotten the cream, but the whole larder. "Did I just see you sniff that book?"
"You laughing at me?"
Logan propped his head in one hand. "I would never. But you know, book sniffing is a new hobby altogether to me."
Rory shrugged self-consciously, blushing. "Well, nothing smells like a good Pushkin novel." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong with that?" she added a bit more defensively.
"No, nothing." Logan tilted his head and focused his gaze on her.
To her embarrassment and annoyance, she found herself blushing with the same butterfly tingles in her stomach that she'd gotten when Dean had first approached her. What did that mean?
I am not going there Rory hastily told herself. I am with Dean, and I'm happy.
But what about those tingles, a traitorous voice in the back of her mind taunted. You never get them with Dean OR Jess, or even Tristan. You didn't even get the butterflies this bad before, either.
Rory ruthlessly ignored the voice. Shut up she snapped.
You LIKE him, her inner Lorelai whispered.
"I don't!" Rory clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say the words out loud.
Logan raised his eyebrows at her. "You don't what?"
"Um… I don't feel like eating another bite," Rory lied quickly. There was no way she liked Logan. There was also no way she was going to let Logan think she might have feelings for him.
Which she didn't.
Even though his chocolate brown eyes were making her feel sort of melted and sparkly inside.
No siree, Rory Gilmore was crush-free when it came to Logan Huntzberger.
That was absolutely true, Rory reflected as she followed the tow-haired man. She and Logan just didn't fit. Maybe as friends, but certainly not as a couple. For one, they argued too much. Surely it was unhealthy to be bickering like that all the time. (Although Emily and Richard certainly had no qualms bickering, and Rory personally thought her grandparents' banter was rather cute, when it didn't get too serious. Still…)
And second, they came from completely different worlds. Logan was in the highest of upper class kingdom. He'd met Seymour Hersh, for crying out loud! He definitely was an elite society boy, and that just didn't mesh with Rory's world, which consisted of Stars Hollow, coffee, books, and movie nights at home with her mom. Sure, her grandparents were part of that Hartford DAR type crowd, but she wasn't.
Last reason, Rory thought with firm resolve, was that not only were they from different sides of the spectrum, but they were just different people too. From what she could tell, Logan was a slightly (key word was slightly) more mature version of Tristan. A playboy. A non-commitment kind of guy. And while he might be amazingly well-read and intelligent, he just wouldn't understand her.
Like Dean does? He's not very bookish or as ambitious as you are. It's not like he's very similar to you either. It really doesn't matter, the treacherous voice piped up.
Rory ignored it again. Instead, she shook her head, cleared her thoughts, and realized that Logan had stopped. She turned to see him staring back at her with an expectant, little-boy smile that sent a zing down to her toes. Quickly moving her gaze, she looked up and discovered they were standing in front of a cozy bookstore called 'A Book For Sophie.' "We're in a bookstore!" she squealed excitedly, grabbing his arm. "We're in a really nice bookstore!"
"I gathered that when I led you here, yes," Logan chuckled. "Are we going in, or are we going to just watch from the outside? Should I get some popcorn?"
"Ha ha," Rory rolled her eyes, and scampered in. She was greeted by the heavenly smell of both old and new books and steaming coffee. "How did you find this place? I would have figured you for a Barnes & Nobles kind of guy."
Logan put his hand on the small of her back to guide her further. It felt very, very nice. "I'll disregard that rather offensive comment for now. My dad often makes me come up here, and I do appreciate the local bookstores, especially this one. I go here every time I visit the city; Sophie knows me too."
"Sophie?"
"The owner," he clarified. "She's actually from Italy, but when she was little her family moved here. Sophie's a great person; I like her a lot. You would too."
They strolled down stairs to the main section of the bookstore, where Rory instantly fell in love. It was an eclectic mix of Borders, Black White & Read, and an internet café. There was a large, elevated area cut off from the rest of the store with tall windows, comfy armchairs, and two computers, decorated in a relaxed, contemporary style. Rory could see a group of young adults sprawled on floor pillows with cups of coffee talking intently in low voices. The bookstore itself was gorgeously built.
Rory licked her lips as she surveyed shelves and shelves of both old and new books. "Oh," she breathed, eyes widening and a dreamy expression coming over her face.
Logan looked at her, mouth twitching. "You hungry, Ace?" He'd discovered her dreams of being a journalist earlier and the moniker had stuck. "The café's over there," he pointed to the study area. "We can go get something to eat, and I can introduce you to Sophie. She's usually hanging around here; she likes to give the students who come here after school help with their homework. It's almost like a tutoring organization around this time of day."
She let him lead her up the stairs, blissfully breathing in the heady aroma of good coffee. "I love the smell of bookstores. They're so homey. Don't you love the smell of bookstores?" Rory smiled.
"First book-sniffing, now bookstore-sniffing? You've got a serious problem there, Ace," Logan smirked. "Sophie? Sophie, you here?"
A door behind the café counter opened, and an attractive, thirty-something-year-old woman came out with holding a box. She looked to be similar in age to Lorelai, but her face just seemed much wiser and more mature than Rory's mother. "Logan! I thought I heard your voice. How're you doing?" she greeted warmly.
"I'm doing well. Just came up to the city with my dad. Usual business." She nodded understandingly, and Rory wondered how much Logan confided in this woman; it seemed like she knew a lot about him.
"And who is this?" The woman turned sparkling eyes on Rory. "Logan, you are being very rude. Introduce me to your girlfriend." She leaned forward confidentially. "This boy has no manners. Ruffian, he is."
"Positively primitive," Rory agreed in affirmative, sporting her own smirk at Logan's scowl. "I'm Rory."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Sophie, the owner of this store. I have to say, Logan has never brought anyone here. His sister, friends, dates—nothing. This is a wonderful surprise. I'm happy to see Logan settled down with a girlfriend." Sophie raised an eyebrow at Logan.
"I'm not his girlfriend," Rory hastened to say, cheeks rouged slightly. "I just met him this morning when I got lost, and he offered to take me around the city for the day. He knows my grandparents," she added, as if it was an excuse for allowing a devious stranger to be her guide.
Sophie's grin widened. "Really? How… kind of him." This was said with a knowing laugh. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like something to eat? Drink? My coffee is excellent here."
Logan interrupted Rory before she could nod enthusiastically. "Don't go there, Soph. Ace here is the worst coffee addict I've ever seen. You shouldn't encourage her; she's already had three, four cups."
"Oh, Logan, you are such a wet blanket," Sophie scolded. "You should feel comfortable here, Rory, the coffee is superb. I'll go make you some espresso, on the house since it's your first time here and a friend of Logan's. Why don't you go explore the bookshelves?"
"No coffee," declared Logan, knowing full well the serious repercussions of his words. "Don't give her any, Sophie."
Rory gasped, then narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, I would. And did. Like I said before, you've had four cups already."
"You are so naïve," sighed Rory. "That's amateur for my mother and me. Really, usually we have a lot more than that."
He gaped. "And how do you not spontaneously combust from caffeine overload?"
"We Gilmore girls have a high tolerance level for ambrosia. I'm going to get some coffee."
"No no no," he shook his head. "You're going to OD on that stuff. I hate to sound redundant, but that's enough. You're going with H2O."
"You do have a death wish, don't you, Huntzberger."
"So do you."
"No I don't. Coffee keeps me alive. It's up on the list with oxygen. They're tied."
"Obviously a problem, and one that needs to be fixed immediately."
Rory crossed her arms and stomped her foot. "I really don't understand how a guy like you, who speaks multiple languages including Spanish, French, and Italian, can't understand a few simple English words—'I'm going to have coffee.' How you can know such a lot but not realize the consequences of your actions of denying a Gilmore coffee when I have lectured you repeatedly is beyond me. You, Mister Huntzberger and 'Master and Commander,'" she emphasized his previously self-proclaimed nickname, "are not very smart."
"You're not getting coffee."
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes." Rory then decided that it was time to pull out the big guns—the infamous Bambi eyes, complete with pout.
Logan groaned and put his hands up. "That's not fair. You can't use the Bambi eyes on me, that's cheating, and you know it."
"So are you going to let me have coffee in peace?" asked Rory, Bambi eyes and pout still in action.
He grumbled, "Yes. But under protest."
Rory grinned triumphantly and turned to Sophie. "I'd like to take you up on that offer of espresso, Sophie."
Sophie's smile was wide. Nodding to Rory, she was about to return to behind the counter when she suddenly turned back around and said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "So much sexual tension. You fight like an old married couple, but it's sizzling. And you said you were not a couple—ha!"
Logan shifted awkwardly as Sophie busied herself with the coffee. Rory, who was feeling a tad embarrassed herself, whether it was Sophie's insinuation or that the idea of Logan being her boyfriend seemed like such a nice idea, watched in fascination as he cleared his throat, clearly flustered, and said, "Um, Rory, you want to go look around? Browse the store?"
"You do that," Sophie winked.
RLRLRLRLRLRL
Rory was in heaven. Book heaven. It was bigger than the bookstore in Stars Hollow, but smaller than the usual corporate business. And Sophie had a lot of books. She'd already filled up a whole page of scratch paper (thoughtfully provided by Sophie) with ones that she wanted. Heck, she wanted the whole bookstore.
She was now relaxing in an unbelievably comfortable armchair, sipping from a cup of the loveliest espresso ever made. "Is it possible to marry a bookstore?" she mused as Logan came up behind her with a pile of his own in his arms. That was another nice thing about him, Rory couldn't help but notice. Unlike Dean and Tristan, he loved books just as much as she did, although he never sniffed them, and was almost as reverent of their material form, unlike Jess.
"Congress says you can't." Logan plopped down beside her and closed his eyes. "So are you buying any books?"
"No, I just bought three last week. But I wish I could get Pride and Prejudice." Rory shrugged when Logan looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I know, I know. I already have three copies."
"So why the need for a fourth?"
"In preparation of all scenarios," Rory explained. "It's one of my favorite books, so I wear it out really quickly. But also, I have one regular copy, one abridged from when I was younger, and one beautiful hardcover edition."
"Sounds like a regular Girl Scout."
"But I don't have one that's small enough to fit in my purse. I want a travel-size Mr. Darcy, so I can take him to parties."
Logan blinked. "You want to take Mr. Darcy to parties? You're a strange girl, Ace."
"Well, yeah. I like to catch up on reading during those parties, you know, it's a good time to do it."
"Of course." He appeared to be holding back a smile.
Their conversation was paused by Sophie and a plate of pastries. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Not at all. Thank you," Rory invited. She examined the plate. "Mmm, I love éclairs."
"All the food at this store is made in the kitchen right here. It's delicious. You two enjoy," Sophie smiled and walked away.
"How did Sophie start this bookstore?" Rory asked Logan as they munched.
He smiled, "Actually, it was her father's, when they first came here. That's why it's called A Book For Sophie, he named it for her. She took over and made a few updates, but it's a family business, sort of."
"That's so sweet," she said, enraptured. "The title is adorable. I'd love to own a bookstore; don't you think it'd be wonderful?"
"Is that what you want to do?" teased Logan. "What happened to Christiane Amanpour, hmm?"
Rory tilted her head. "No, I'm still going to be a foreign correspondent. Mom and I have been planning it since my birth. That, and Harvard."
He was obviously intrigued. "Harvard, huh. The Gilmores are Yalies, you know that, right? And the Haydens, I believe they're Princeton people?"
"Mom's never wanted me to go to Yale," Rory admitted. "She and my grandparents, they have a… complicated relationship. She hates owing them anything or giving them the satisfaction of doing what they want."
"So… she's cheering for Harvard because she doesn't want you affiliated with anything to do with her parents. Sorry if that sounded rude, but that seems a little silly. I mean, have you even considered Yale?" When she hesitated, he continued. "Even if you do still want Harvard, you and your mom shouldn't completely ignore every other option."
"I know," Rory sighed. "But first of all, Mom wouldn't really see it that way. She'd think I'd been brainwashed by Adolf and Eva. And second, I visited Harvard, and I really like it." There was a pause. "But I haven't seen Yale," she confessed. "And you have a point. It's just that Mom would have a lot of trouble understanding that."
Logan shook his head. "Your mom shouldn't be influencing your decision that much. Do you really, truly want to go to Harvard because it's the right school for you, or do you want it because it's been a lifelong goal that was apparently made when you couldn't even talk?"
There was a long silence as Rory pondered this. Logan had asked a question that Rory had asked herself a few times during Chilton, but she'd never thought about it very much, and after seeing Harvard she never considered it.
She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and rub it gently. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you or cause trouble," he said softly. "I don't have such a great relationship with my parents, and I guess I'm similar to your mom in that way, although I never became pregnant and hightailed it out of Hartford." She smiled at this. "But I don't ever want to be under the control of my parents. Even if I'm doing something on purpose because I know they'd hate means they still influence me. I just want to do what I want."
Rory nodded. It made sense. She wondered if her mother was really as detached from Emily and Richard as she thought she was.
"I didn't always want to go to Yale. I wanted to go to Stanford," Logan continued. "But my dad forced me to look into the Ivy Leagues at the very least, and even though it was kind of force-fed to me, I liked Yale for itself and I ended up not wanting to go anywhere else. So I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't miss out on opportunities for anything, even for the possibility of pleasing or displeasing people you don't want to."
They sat in a peaceful silence for several minutes, a silence that wasn't awkward at all. Rory found herself wishing that the moment, sitting in the bookstore with Logan and coffee, could go on forever. She'd gladly skip senior year at Chilton, even if it mean she couldn't graduate…
Graduate.
Lorelai's graduation.
"Oh my god!" Rory jolted. "Logan, what time is it?"
"Ah… four. Three-ten. Why?"
"I'm supposed to be at my mom's graduation from her business class at six! And I haven't found a gift for her yet! And it'll take hours to get home! Crap!" Rory put down her coffee and dusted crumbs off her skirt. "Where's the closest bus stop? Maybe I'll just buy a frame once I get there, or promise to treat her to six months of dinners. Or—"
Logan put his hands on her shoulders. "Ace, calm down. We'll find your mom a gift here quickly; I know the city really well. What does your mom like?"
"Um, coffee, Hello Kitty, music—"
"Perfect. My friend Colin is a music connoisseur and he comes with me every now and then here. He's actually somewhat of an ass most of the time, but he'll do anything for music, and he dragged me to this record store that has everything about garage bands or something. Maybe you'll find something there, and I can get you back in Hartford very quickly."
Rory grabbed onto Logan's arm. "Okay, okay," she mumbled as she followed him. "Logan, you better know what you're doing…"
He turned to smile confidently at her. It had a surprisingly reassuring affect on her. "Don't I always?"
RLRLRLRLRLRL
"I've never even heard of most of these," Rory admired fifteen minutes later as she thumbed through the store. "Wow… Lane would want to live here."
To her amusement and chagrin, she and Logan looked completely out of place in there—she in her private school uniform and Logan in expensive clothes that belonged on the cover of GQ. But at least Rory was enjoying herself hugely in the store. Logan wasn't so much, but he didn't find it too bad.
"Oh my god!"
He sidled up to her. "What?"
"Look!" Rory pulled up a record.
"The Go-go's. Interesting," and he looked anything but.
She laughed at him. "No, for my mom. This was her favorite group when she was my age, and it's signed by Belinda. This would be the perfect graduation present. I've been looking for something all week long, and I couldn't find anything, and up until a minute ago I thought I would never, and now I have Belinda."
Logan nudged her, "Go get it. I'm sure your mom will love it then."
"Thank you so much for bringing me here; it was fate," Rory sighed happily. Then she frowned. "I should probably go back to the bus station now."
"No, you won't be there for hours, much less by six. I've got transportation, I'll take you. I have to return to Yale anyway," reasoned Logan. "It'll be much faster than making a million stops along the way."
RLRLRLRLRL
Rory rested her head on Logan's shoulder. "I must say, this is much faster than a bus. Thank you." She yawned. "Although when you said you had transportation, I just thought you meant you had your own car, not your own private jet."
"Well, dear old Dad likes to travel in style. We should be there pretty soon," Logan told her, squeezing her shoulder. "You can doze for a little while. I'll wake you when we land."
She nodded sleepily and allowed her eyes to close.
When she opened them again, Logan was shaking her gently. "Ace… Rory… wake up."
"Whassat?" Rory blinked groggily, then sat up. "Are we back in Connecticut? Already?"
"And it's five-thirty," said a smug Logan. "And I have transportation to get you to your mom's graduation."
"Clarify 'I have transportation,'" Rory demanded as they walked out. "You're not going to give me a pumpkin coach now, are you?"
"No, no pumpkins, sorry," he responded. "But I think you and your mom will enjoy it."
Rory's eyes went to where he was gesturing to and widened. "You have a limo?" she screeched. "That's pretty much a pumpkin coach, Logan!"
"I have an account with the company. Rory, meet Frank. Frank, meet Rory Gilmore." Logan placed an arm around her shoulders. "Now, Rory, don't try to fight this," he said, placing a finger over her lips, which effectively silenced her and sent butterflies flapping in her stomach. "I already called Frank before and he knows where to go and what to do. And I told him to take you and your mom back to your house in Stars Hollow afterward."
Rory was flabbergasted. "What? But Logan—"
"No buts. I had a great time with you today." He leaned against the side of the limo. "I hope you did too."
"I did," she nodded fervently. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. For taking me around New York and all this. I'm going to make you an altar when I get home, or immortalize you in a new gnome for Babette's garden."
"From what I've heard of your neighbor's gnomes, I'm not sure I want a part of that," Logan teased. She realized he was slowly moving towards her until they were only a few inches apart. "But you're welcome. I enjoyed it. You've certainly introduced me to a few new things. The art of licorice-parrying, book-sniffing…"
"I guess you never stop learning," Rory whispered with a sheepish smile.
"I'll call you soon," he stated, voice husky.
"Promise?" Rory found herself saying hopefully. She hoped she didn't sound too clingy or needy.
"Promise."
He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers in a soft, feather light kiss that sent an electric zing down to her toes. "Yes," he sort of mumbled. "I definitely will call you soon." He pulled back and ran his fingers across her cheek then her hair. "We'll see each other again very, very soon."
Rory felt breathless. Weightless. Dizzy. "Okay."
Their interlude was interrupted by Frank. "Miss Gilmore? Are you ready?"
Words. Hmm. They didn't seem to be present for once. "Um… yeah." She dropped her eyes to Logan's shoes and back up to his face. "I'll see you, I guess."
Logan smiled, a real heart-stopping grin that lit up his handsome features and nearly electrified her. "Don't forget me, Ace."
"I could never," laughed Rory as she closed the door and signaled Frank to start the car.
RLRLRLRLRL
A Week Later
He hadn't called. Rory had told herself that she didn't really expect it, that of course Logan had better things to do than call a high school girl who he'd spent one day with. But still, she was disappointed.
Lorelai strolled into the kitchen as she mulled over it. "Rory? Are you okay?"
She gave her mother an odd look. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Do I not look fine?"
"Well, you've been reading up on Yale for the past hour or so, which I'm still figuring out, but then for the past ten minutes you've been staring into space," Lorelai pointed out. "Is this about Limo Boy?"
Rory had not told Lorelai about Logan specifically. All her mother knew was that Rory had skipped school, met a handsome, debonair stranger who knew Emily and Richard, and spent the day with him. He wasn't evil, like Lorelai had first asked, and he'd kindly lent his limo and his very nice driver Frank to her clearly affected daughter. Hence the nickname 'Limo Boy.'
Luckily, Rory didn't have to answer Lorelai's question because the door bell rang just then. "I'll get it," and she excused herself from the table.
When she opened the door, she came face to face with a UPS man and a very, very large box that had to be three feet tall. "Rory Gilmore?"
"That's me," she confirmed cautiously.
"I have a special delivery for you," he grinned. "Just sign here... Thank you. Have a nice day." The man left Rory to stare at the package. What on earth necessitated a huge box like this one? A vase? But who the hell would send her a vase?
Of course, her curiosity drove her to grab the scissors that had mysteriously been left on the hall table and open it right on the doorstep. What she found was not a vase at all.
No, instead of a vase rested a three foot high plush bunny rabbit the color of cotton candy, just asking for a hug. And of course Rory complied, snatching the soft, furry animal into her arms.
That's when she noticed there was a second something at the bottom, cushioned by packaging peanuts. She bent down (as best as she could carrying Sam the Bunny) and picked up a rectangular object in brown paper with a note.
To Ace,
I know you think parties are boring, but I'm going to change that, so in omnia paratus. In the mean time, though, here's your fourth copy of Pride and Prejudice in travel size. I hope Mr. Darcy and the bunny are good companions.
Enjoy,
Master and Commander
There was a bubbly, excited feeling in her that was growing by leaps and bounds.
RLRLRL
While Rory was apparently stuck outside, Lorelai decided to look at what Rory had been doing. A Yale brochure was spread out on the table, along with a couple neatly folded ones for Princeton, Amherst, and Columbia. She had always thought Rory was just as gung-ho about Harvard as she herself was, but Rory had always been very methodical.
After perusing the Yale brochure for a moment, Lorelai jumped when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Is this the home of the Lorelai Gilmores?" came a voice.
"Yes…" she said suspiciously. It didn't sound like anyone she knew.
"This is Logan Huntzberger. Is Rory there?"
THE END
AN: That's it! My first fic, actually completed. For a story that's supposed to encompass a whole day, it's not very long, but I was afraid that if I made it longer I'd run out of steam and crash the whole story into the ground :) Hope it's not too short! I made up a lot of stuff to fit the storyline, like the bookstore and location stuff. I actually named the bookstore for the whole Sophies-ship thing. Just my own joke, heh. So yeah.
Oh, and that tiny line about Congress was from House. It was a random impulse to put that in there other than the fact that House is a great show.
That said, review and tell me what you think, because knowing good writing is different from writing good writing—let me know:)