A/N: Yes, it's a Gilmore Girls One-Shot. More importantly, it's a Rogan One-Shot. You know, unlike most people, I liked Rory with Dean, Logan, and Jesse. I just preferred Logan to all the others. They were sweet and all that sappy stuff. This is kind of long, but I had to fill in a reunion in just one chapter. Well, I didn't have to, but I wanted to challenge myself to see if I could actually do it. And I think it turned out okay. This was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it well enough. As per usual, the music-like stuff will be in the second author's note if you want to find more about the song I used.

Please, please enjoy. If you feel up to it, do all of that stuff writers usually ask. Favourite or follow or something. Review?

Anyway, on with the show.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. I also, sadly, do not own the song "The Calendar" by Panic! at the Disco. Although I do own the CD which it came from. Good money spent, if I don't say so myself.

But Only For You

"Next," Rory's eyes ached and her head burned with the beginnings of a massive migraine, but she smiled as an elderly woman approached her, a thick book in hand. "Hi, madam. Will that be all?" She asked, carefully handling the heavy object.

"Yes, um, do you think my granddaughter will like this book?" Rory's eyes gleamed as she scanned the book, thinking carefully of what to say.

"Hmm," she sighs, remembering when she got The Places You Buried My Soul. But she quickly shakes that memory away as images of That Handsome Boy Who Must Not Be Named crept into her mind, increasing her migraine's strength. Her eyes flew to the woman's in reply. "Yes. She will. It's a wonderful and extremely poignant novel. All the wonders of life excellently explored in a mere 862 pages." The lady's face lit up as she handed Rory her credit card.

"Good, good. She's been asking for it, but I wanted to makes sure I wasn't wasting money," Rory laughed at the woman's worries, taking the plastic piece of security.

"All right, your total is $7.23 and if you could just-" Rory felt her mouth slack and her heart betray her horribly as it sped up. A figure was waiting, clothed in a fine suit and hair combed to the newest businessman style. His hazel eyes blazed as he looked at the ceiling searching for something.

"Are you all right, miss?" The old woman's voice pulled Rory away from the face of a forgotten wound and she noticed she was tightly clutching the customer's card.

"Right, yes. I am fine. Here's your card and your receipt. Just sign here," she handed the lady a pen, willing herself to calm down. "Thank you. Please enjoy," with a smile, the woman was off and Rory had no choice but to call out to the man who found the ceiling so fascinating. Maybe she could ask Johnny to take over. She twisted her head around to look for him, but it was too late. He was staring at her now, his face falling for a moment before he remembered who he was and his bright, flashy smile overtook his face. He took slow, deliberate steps towards her, a pile of books in his hands.

Silently, the books were placed in front of her and Rory set forth, scanning them quickly.

"Recognize any of them?" His smooth voice washed over Rory like waves of glory and she had to close her eyes as her body shivered and the familiar sensations he caused took over.

"Um," she stuttered, forcing herself to properly study the titles. She frowned. "Yes, actually. All of them." Rory didn't say the next thing on her mind, they're all books I showed you. Her work mind took over in attempt to ignore the ever handsome (though she refused to ever admit it to his face) boy. After scanning the dozen books, she chanced a look at him and hated herself for wanting to swoon under his gaze.

"What's with the mini library?" She asked, gesturing to the twelve books scattered before them both. He smiled and her heart skipped as it awaited his bound-to-be snarky reply.

"Well, would you believe that yours truly is the new English teacher at the famous Chilton Preparatory School," Rory's mouth fell open in a probably very unflattering way. "Yep. Rich kid defies parents wishes and becomes a lowly private school teacher. I can see the headlines now."

"W-wow," Rory gasped out, lowering her head a bit to stare at the books again.

"Yeah, I actually spent the last few years getting a sexy Masters in education. Cool, huh?" He was enthusiastically holding his arms out in question and she nodded her head slowly, feeling her head wanting to explode.

"Very cool. Why Chilton?" The last part slipped past her lips harsher than she expected and she shook her head. "Sorry. I mean, why Chilton when you could be a teacher anywhere?" She wanted to ask why he was torturing her by being here, acting like the last time they saw each other seven years ago was a charming experience.

She could sense his smirk as he began his reply, "Well, it's a good school. Good location. Good pay. Not a lot of students. What's not to like?" He laughed loudly. "Oh, and the headmaster is pretty hot." There we go. That's Logan Huntzberger.

"Headmaster Charleston? He's a bit old for you, don't you think?" Rory could see a line beginning to form just for her and she remembered where she was, quickly getting a large bag to place all of the books in.

"A bit too dead, actually. There's a new headmaster. Headmaster Islington. No relation to the London town. Very, very attractive," Logan's comment sunk in and she felt her blood boil. She had no right to be angry at him for finding another woman attractive. They broke up nearly ten years ago. And yet, she felt the need to slap him. She restrained herself, though, knowing now was not the time or the place.

"Oh," was all she said as she tallied up his total. "$123.76," she calmly spat out. He handed her a shiny black card and she swiped it fast. The receipt came out slowly, filling the small bookstore with the relaxing sound of the printer. Rory ripped it off quick, watching as he took out a pen from his pocket and signed his name. She handed him his copy and the card, giving a curt smile as he took ahold of the large plastic bag with all of his books.

"We should get together some time. Seeing as we're both in Hartford now. I need a friend," with one last smile and a wink, Logan left the store. Rory took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and called out to the next person in the increasingly long line.

What just happened?

"Rory, your shift ended forty five minutes ago. What are you still doing here?" Johnny came up behind her as she was shelving a new shipment of books. She jumped at the sound of his voice, glaring at him.

"Lost track of time, I guess," Rory yawned and stood up, placing the box of books in Johnny's hands. Truthfully, she didn't want to leave because here she could forget that she ever saw Logan Huntzberger. Forget that he touched her hand lightly when she handed back his credit card and that she actually enjoyed the warmth of his hand. Forget the angst ridden feeling it sent through her veins.

"Well, you're off. And you have no work this weekend. Rest or something," Johnny smiled sympathetically at her and she nodded her head, slowly making her way to the small employee break room. Christine was passed out on the sofa so Rory had to be quiet in gathering her things.

She passed Johnny once more on her way out, saluting him with a smile on her face. Rory enjoyed her job at the small, unknown, and extremely rundown bookstore. With five employees, it ran well and people actually came in to get books at a cheap-ish price. It'd suited her well for the past three years, taking her time and allowing her to momentarily shut out the thoughts of her dead grandparents and absent mother.

Rory hopped on her bike and peddled swiftly home, feeling the late summer slip through her fingers in the wind. When her apartment building came into view, everything became heavy again.

She did see Logan Huntzberger at work today. He held in his hands twelve books she informed him about numerous times throughout their history together. He smiled and winked and talked the same. Sure, a few lines here and there marked his face, but she had dark circles under her eyes permanently, so she couldn't say much about his aging.

All Rory wanted to do was call her mother and talk to her about this, but the time difference was too much. She was more than likely asleep.

Fumbling with her keys, Rory opened the door to the building, pushing her bike through the threshold. The elevator had stopped working the year she moved in, but it didn't stop her from cursing it when she walked by and hiked her bike up in order to move up the steep staircase.

By the time she got to her floor her arms ached, her migraine exploded, and her eyes wanted to fall out of her face. Her apartment was small and didn't even have a bedroom, but it was enough. The walls bled an eerie grey and there was only one window which had the fantastic view of the alleyway. She was positive at least three people had been murdered there since she moved in a few years back.

Rory made her way to her phone, seeing three messages glowing. Her index finger pressed down on the "Play" button and she listened patiently while simultaneously gathering supplies for a quick dinner.

You have three new messages.

First message: Friday August 27th at 3:23 p.m.

Beep.

Rory, hey, it's Luke. Just calling to let you know we'll be out of phone reach for the weekend. Your mom and I are heading on a tour through the Alps. Have a great weekend. Don't work too hard, kid!

Beep.

Rory's heart broke a little at the sound of Luke's voice and she willed herself not to cry as she started up the stove.

Second message: Friday August 27th at 6:47 p.m.

Beep.

Ms. Gilmore, this is Frank Nobleman calling to inform you that we need to meet regarding your grandparents estate. Um, I can't tell you much over the phone, but please call me back at 860-346-0971. Have a splendid day.

Beep.

She couldn't help the tear that slid down her face and sizzled in the heated pan. Rory sniffled and wiped her cheek frustratedly, adding her chopped chicken to the stir fry she was preparing.

Third and final message: Friday August 27th at 7:11 p.m.

Beep.

Rory.

She dropped the wooden spoon in her hand, not hearing it clatter to the wooden floor beneath her feet.

It's Logan. Don't ask how I got your number, it's not an interesting story. Well, it kind of is. But anyway-his voice broke off and he let out a breathless, nervous laugh-um, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get coffee tomorrow morning. I've got a meeting with the Headmaster at twelve, so maybe we could meet at that little coffee shop near your work at 10:30? If not, don't worry about it. I'll be there regardless. It looks like a nice coffee shop. Anyway, hope to see you there.

Beep.

End of messages.

A faint scent of burning meat filled Rory's nostrils and she looked at her pan, hot smoke choking her eyes. She could feel them watering as she haphazardly turned the stove off, sliding to the ground and finally letting out the stress of the day in a loud wail. She wasn't hungry anymore. All she felt was a painful wave of sleepiness.

In a daze, she stood up and scraped the contents of her fancy pan in the trash. Placing it in the sink, she slunk off to her twin sized bed pushed against the farthest corner of the apartment.

Her eyes dripped with tears and she felt the warm liquid pass over her cheeks, ears, and nose, wetting the fabric of her bedspread. She sucked in breath after breath as if it were a chore to breathe. The moonlight filtering through her window glowed on her face and she vaguely was aware that she hadn't turned off any of the lights nor had she gotten ready for bed.

She didn't care, though. Everything was wrong.

Rory didn't know what time she finally fell asleep. It wasn't before wasting a half box of tissues and forcing herself to get up and get ready. All she knew was that when she woke up at 9:17 a.m., she somehow sensed a change in the air.

Was it summer leaving her that caused the shift?

No.

She knew what it was, but she denied it with every chilled step she took to reach the bathroom.

She got ready in a rush, not feeling the scalding water hit her body and fall in puddles to the floor. She listened to the radio as she scrubbed herself down. She stopped suddenly when she found herself dancing along to the track, not even knowing what it was called. Her heart felt lighter and her mind was clearer this morning.

Music sounded good and the water that soaked her skin warmed her with floods of energy. She hummed along to the song, trying to remember certain words so she could look it up later.

Put another X on the calendar, summer's on its deathbed.

"Can't be many songs out there with that line," she said out loud to no one in particular, repeating it over and over in her head, enjoying the singers smooth voice.

After slathering her hair with shampoo and conditioner, and after cutting herself only once with her razor, Rory stepped out of the shower.

Her blue eyes shone in the misty light of the bathroom and she smiled to herself. She was going to see Logan Huntzberger today. Mind made up, she would walk into the Cafe looking stunning and not tired and not depressed. He would be blown away by her confidence and beauty and immediately beg her back. She'd play hard to get, though. You need to get to know me again. She'd say, smiling playfully. And he'd agree. And they'd date again. Move in together eventually, get engaged, get married. Have kids, be happy.

"Stop it, Rory," she giggled to herself, ignoring the painful stabbing sensation in her heart. It won't happen. It can't.

After putting on the minimal amount of makeup she owned, she blew her hair dry and admired how it calmly fell to her shoulders. Usually it refused to stay down.

And then she remembered. Logan hadn't left a number. Rory would have to walk into the coffee shop blindly and sit with Logan and talk to him. Listen to him as he prattled on about how wonderful his life was. About his girlfriend or maybe even wife. No, he wasn't wearing a ring. Fiancee, then. And she'd have to lie and say her life was great and fantastic when really it was horrible and slow and just plain shitty.

She looked at the clock. 10:15. She had fifteen minutes to make it to the shop. It was only a five minute bike ride. Maybe she should skip it and pray to God that she never ever runes into Logan again. But she knew that he must live nearby and that he apparently liked independently owned bookstores. They'd run into each other again. Might as well make sure it wasn't awkward.

Rory grabbed her backpack and her bike, readying herself for what was about to happen.

The outside air felt nice and fresh against her skin and she blinked against the blinding sun, wishing she had sunglasses to spare. Hopping on her bike, she peddled slowly, wanting to take her time with this ride.

She could sense it. The change. It was following her in the breeze of late August, haunting her like a ghost. The sun was brighter than usual, the sky bluer. Bees were buzzing happily and the birds were chirping sweetly. Every light was green on the ride and the bike rack outside of the coffee shop had been mended.

Crap. Rory thought as she got off, chaining her bike up. She was here now, no turning back. Her head swiveled around in search for Logan's car, but she realised that he probably had gotten a new one since they broke up seven years ago.

"Ace, you made it!" A loud voice boomed behind her and she nearly tripped over her bike as she turned around, searching for the source. She wanted to faint at the sound of her old nickname, accepting that no one could ever make a singular syllable sound so alluring.

"I did. Yeah. You didn't leave a number, so I wasn't sure what to do. But I came. Yeah. I came…" Her voice died on her and she looked at the ground, suddenly captivated by the weeds growing between the cracks in the sidewalk, a light blush slowly marring her cheeks.

"Right, right, sorry about that. I guess I was so excited to be calling you that I forgot," Logan placed a hand on her shoulder and Rory snapped her head up making full eye contact. She searched for a trace of sarcasm, but found none. This only made her heart swell up bigger.

"It-it's okay. Should we go in? The coffee here is great," Rory ducked away from Logan's stare and his touch, noticing a burning radiating from where he grazed her skin.

"Yeah. And Rory," he said, grabbing her arm and twisting her around. "You look nice," she was definitely blushing now. All she had put on were blue jeans and the first top she grabbed. Which wasn't much, just a somewhat low-cut light blue t-shirt with a picture of Ziggy Stardust on the front. A gift from Luke.

Logan let go of her and smiled, following her into the small Cafe.

They both ordered black coffee and laughed in remembrance of their late night study sessions together when their veins were filled with more coffee than blood. He refused to let her pay and she quietly accepted his offer of chivalry, finding a table while he waited for the drinks.

The sun soaked Rory's skin as she sat down in front of the window awaiting her white knight. Her stomach grumbled and she remembered she hadn't eaten since 11:00 a.m. yesterday. A gnawing at her insides made her get up and stand next to Logan.

"Think I can add a bit of food to the order of black death?" She squeaked, trying to sound nonchalant. Logan looked at her and smiled, nodding his head.

"Um, can the lady have a slice of coffee cake?" The barrister grumbled something under his breath and Logan grinned in Rory's direction.

"You remembered," she said, noticing the baffled tint to her voice.

Logan laughed. "Yes, Rory, I remember your favourite coffee-time snack is coffee flavoured cake. Not difficult to memorise," he winked at her, handing her the coffee and nodding towards the table she had picked out, silently telling her to wait for him.

Is it possible that after all of these years, they still have their no-words-language?

She pushed the thought away when he followed her to the table, sitting across from her and placing her coffee cake in front of her. Rory grabbed the fork and began shoveling the bittersweet pastry into her mouth.

"Some things never change, I see," sighed Logan, resting his chin in his hands, elbows plastered on the table. Rory noticed the dreamy look in his eye, but continued eating, pausing only to drink some of her coffee. She occasionally flicked her eyes to his, trying to decipher why he invited her, but he just took careful sips of his drink.

She's done soon and she sat back in her chair, pressing her hands to the table. Logan looked at her and smirks, finally nodding his head and opening his mouth to speak. "Logan, why'd you ask me here if you were just going to stare at me why I drank and ate? Well, Rory Gilmore," Oh the way he said her name made her quiver, "I wanted to catch up. It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," she said slowly. "Why now?" He sighed exhaustedly.

"Because now seemed like the perfect time. No time like the present, right? That's rhetorical, don't answer," he held a hand up in front of her face and delicately placed a warm finger on her lips. She felt that she should jump up and smack him across the cheek for touching her in such an intimate place, but she's frozen. Her lips pulsated with something…something familiar and something she'd been missing for such a long time. "I was fed up with my dad. I told him three years ago to go shove it and he kicked me aside. Which was fine with me because I didn't want to work in business anyway. So, with my grandparents help, I got into a graduate program to get my Masters. It didn't take too long to figure out what I wanted it in. I thought, 'I should be helping kids learn, give them an adult who'll actually give a shit about them.' So I got my Masters and started interviewing. Islington heard I was looking for a job, called me up, asked me to interview, and then gave me the position as Tenth Grade English teacher for the advanced class. Which sounds like a weird title for a private Prep school, but whatever." He paused for a moment, removing his finger from Rory's mouth, but he continued to talk.

"I knew you were living here. My grandparents told me. I would be lying if I said you weren't a deciding factor in my choice to accept the job. I mean, you are the one who got me interested in English. Never cared much for it before you came along, Ace. So, here I am. Hoping that maybe you and I can at least be friends. I mean, it's been seven years since you refused my proposal, and after all this time, I've been able to decipher why you said no. What do you say?" He asked, holding his hand out to the stricken girl in front of him. "Friends?" Rory blinked in confusion, but took the hand anyway. The touch sends more shivers through her and she wondered if they could ever just be friends. They had so much history.

"Friends." She said, a genuine smile gracing her lips. He grinned back at her, chugging the rest of his coffee and standing up.

"Let's get out of here," he said, glancing at his watch. Again, he held out his hand, daring her to take it. She replied by grabbing it, allowing herself to be pulled up. Butterflies swarmed in stomach, brushing her nerves with their delicate wings which beat a thousand times a second.

He took her to his car and she looked longingly at her bike but he told her she "needn't not worry" about it and that he can take it back after his meeting. She questioned him about that, but he said he's got time and that they should go to his place for a little bit more of a chat. She agreed, sliding into the not-so-fancy car he now owned.

The car journey was full of tension and silence. The radio buzzed between them, each song that played seemingly matching their feelings. Rory recognized this familiar atmosphere that came with being so close to Logan Huntzberger and realised that she missed it.

He took one last turn and she saw a row of townhouses.

"Logan Huntzberger lives in a townhouse?" Rory's amused voice made him laugh. The houses were squished together, an identical tree in front of each one. Designs alternated every two houses between red brick and stone.

"I may be rich, but I learned that saving money is much more fun than spending it."

"You should see my apartment, then," Rory sighed out.

"Is it small?" He asked, turning his head to look at her for a brief moment.

"Small does not cover it. It's something, though."

"I would've thought money wouldn't be an issue anymore," Rory felt her heart sink to her stomach and willed herself not to throw up in Logan's car.

"Yeah," she choked out. "It's not really, but I like saving it." She knew it was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

He carried on being silent until he pulled in to a parking spot and aided Rory in opening her door. The world had fuzzed over since he spoke last and he grabs her arm, helping her up and to his house.

When they got in, Logan took his coat off and pulled Rory's off of her as well, hanging them both up. He led her up a flight of stairs to his lounge, sitting her down. He took the couch cushion next to her and grabbed her hands. She didn't move.

"Ace, what's wrong?" He asked, wiping a tear she hadn't realised had fallen. It symbolized everything wrong in her life, that tear. It was so dispensable and had collapsed without her really seeing it.

"Where to begin, Logan?" Her voice quivered and she coughed, mumbling an apology. "I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful person, but God, what happened? One day everything was fine. I had a job, a boyfriend, parents, grandparents. Then suddenly, everything was gone. Dissolved into thin air." Logan's grip on her hands tightened and he somehow managed to interlace their fingers. He looked at her and waited for her to continue. "My boyfriend broke up with me the day I lost my job at the paper. He'd been cheating on me with some guy named Larry for the past four months," Logan couldn't help the giggle that escaped his mouth, but turned stone faced when Rory glared at him. "And then grandma and grandpa got sick. I moved back here to help them. Got a job at Bookstores Still Exist. They were doing better and then they weren't." She stopped, sucking in a breath. Logan released her hands and moved her head to his shoulder.

"I thought they were going to be okay. One morning I woke up and checked on them, but they…they were…oh, God, I can't say it," Rory swallowed and felt Logan's lips on her forehead. "Afterwards, after the funeral and everything, mom said she couldn't be here anymore. She and Luke packed up. Didn't even ask me to go with them, they just left. She abandoned me. And now I'm stuck at this job. I've interviewed places, but no one seems to want me. I'm in a rut. It's been a long time since I haven't been in one." She stopped talking and let her sorrow overwhelm her for a moment longer. She wasn't expecting to speak so much, but she hadn't had a friend in so many years that she could talk to face to face like this. Lane was gone, Paris was gone. Everyone was gone.

"And then you walked into the store yesterday," she continued, feeling braver than before. "Seeing you, hearing your voice, made me realise how much I'd missed you all these long years. You're grown up now. A mature adult. A teacher, for crying out loud," she laughed as snot began running down her nose. Logan reached for a tissue and hands it to her. She cleaned her face up and lifted her head.

"Do you believe in destiny?" He asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Not really," she said slowly, dragging out each syllable. He must have seen the confused look on her face because he explains.

"Neither do I. I knew you worked at that store. God, Ace, I chose those books because of you. I have missed you every single day since you broke my heart. When I got the opportunity to see you again, of course I took it. It's mock destiny."

"Oh, well then. I'm flattered," was all Rory could choke out. Logan laughed, throwing his head back.

"This begs the question, why are you suffering so much? You were always so happy, Ace. So full of hope and life," he positioned his head towards her own. She didn't move. She held his gaze, daring him to make a move.

"Being alone kind of forces you to lose all of that stuff. When you have no one to live for, it's much harder to live for yourself," she's surprised, for a moment, at how easy it seems to talk to Logan even after seven years apart. He had never contacted her before the other day and she honestly thought he had forgotten her. But she realised that they were always like this. It was always easy for her to trust him because he had always been there. Hell, he comforted her, while infatuated with her, when Dean broke up with her. Of course it's easy to fall back in.

"Oh, Ace. You poor, pathetic thing," Logan teased, nudging his nose against hers. The movement stopped her breath on its way out her mouth. "You can't live like this, like you're not alive at all. There's a whole world out there for you. You've traveled it, explored it, loved it. Let it love you in return. I can talk to some of my contacts about getting you a job nearby."

She pushed away from him. He looked hurt, but the expression left his face soon enough that she thought she'd imagined it. "Would you do that?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Well, well, if I'd suggested this a few years back, you'd've had my head on a silver platter." He smiled at her and she slapped his arm playfully.

"I'm kind of desperate, Logan," she bitterly retired and he grabbed her hand again.

"Right, right. I'll do it. For you. But why do you live in such a small apartment. You're kind of rich now." Rory would've scolded him further, but it was a good question. Why hadn't she dipped into the funds her grandparents had given her at their passing? Lorelai was off in Europe wasting hers away and she couldn't even get a better place to live in.

"I feel like if I spend it, I'm admitting their gone," she says truthfully, a sad air spreading over them once again. "I was supposed to pay them back for school, but they died before I could and now I have all of this money and I don't want it. Well, I want it, but I don't want to want it. It's confusing, sorry." She huffed and bowed her head. With delicate fingers, Logan lifted her chin.

"The money isn't them, Rory. They gave it to you because they love you and want you to have a better life. It's been a while, Ace. You need to start making yourself happy. They're probably looking down on you now, although I'm not sure about your grandmother, and wondering why on earth their beautiful, smart, successful granddaughter is refusing to allow a wisp of sunshine in her life. Don't torture yourself by staying unhappy. It's not fair on anyone."

She knew he was right. Of course he was.

On a whim, she replies, "I'll go apartment hunting tomorrow." Logan smiles at her and chuckles.

"That's my girl. Well, no, that sounded weird. That's my…friend. Are we friends?" His eyes were concerned and the corners of his mouth had moved down slightly.

"I-I don't know. We've never been good at being friends," Rory admitted, thinking back to their life together, how happy they both were. But she was torn at the moment, and he was not.

"You know, I don't believe in fate, Rory, but I sure as hell believe in us." His words, so full of lust and sincerity, were the final pieces to her long lost puzzle which she thought would always be broken. Her shift was complete. It would get better after this, she could tell. Already, her anger and resentment towards her mother, her grandparents, the world, was burning down. A smile placed itself on her face and she felt that no matter how hard she tried, it would not go away.

"What do you mean?" She asked, frightened for a moment she was reading too much into this.

"I mean that after seven years apart from you, after finally finding you again, I don't want you to leave here without knowing that I don't see myself falling for anyone the same way I fell for you. I know that I should wait and get to know you again, but you're the same Rory Gilmore I met when I was a jerk in my early twenties. You've had your open world, Ace, please let me be a part of it again." She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes filling with the sweetest tears. She slid her hands through his hair, watching goosebumps rise up on his skin.

"Yes." It is all she said and all she needed to say. She heard Logan as he breathed in once before giving in and pressing his lips to hers. It was gentle at first, like they were trying to memorise each other. He sucked on her bottom lip in the place where she always bit after a kiss and she moaned quietly. This spurred him on and he forced her lips open with his tongue, exploring the cottony insides of her mouth. She tugged on his hair, pulling him on top of her, and he could feel himself getting excited. Rory Gilmore wasn't one for sex in these situations, though, so he forced himself not to rub against her leg.

Everything was coming together, culminating in a powerful explosion of fervor and energy generating from their mouths and hands. Their fingers grazed up each others shirts, feeling the warm skin beneath and groaning into their kiss. Rory rotated her hips against Logan's in search of some friction for her throbbing center, letting out a contented sigh, and he bit down on her lip to suppress a loud whimper.

Logan was about to throw caution to the wind and ask if Rory wanted to do something more when he felt his pocket vibrate against his leg which happened to be right where his erection was. With a shudder and jolt, a warm liquid shot down his leg and he groaned into Rory's mouth.

He sat up quickly, looking around in confusion and slight embarrassment.

"Sorry, that never happens." He said, moving around uncomfortably. The vibration was still occurring and he pulled out the source, eyeing Rory and smiling at the heated blush on her cheeks. "Hello?" He answered. "Yes, right, totally forgot. I'll be there soon." He put the phone away and leaned in to touch Rory's lips once more.

"Wow." They said simultaneously. Rory giggled and Logan smiled. The latter stood up and mumbled something about having to get changed for the meeting.

"You're a good distraction, Ace," he called from a room she guessed was his bedroom. She didn't say anything, though, just marveled at the feeling of Logan Huntzberger once again on top of her. If he hadn't stopped them, she would have done something reckless and asked him if maybe he wanted to go all the way. The thought surprised her, but she definitely meant it in the heat of the moment. If he didn't have a meeting, she'd probably ask him right now. But he did. And they could wait for that. They waited seven years for this.

"I'm sad that I have to say this, but it's time for me to leave," Logan placed a hand on Rory's head, filling his fingers with her hair. She smiled sweetly at him.

"I can walk to the coffee shop from here, no worries," Logan laughed and kissed her forehead. She didn't want him to go.

"You're going to stay here. Take a shower, finish yourself off. Follow me to the land of complete bliss." He winked at her and headed for the door, but not before Rory threw a book at him. "Ouch, Ace. It was a suggestion. Unless you want to wait for me to come home and then I can finish you off myself." He whispered the last bit as he closed his front door behind him.

Rory should've been mad that he had decided she would stay here. That they would definitely be talking when he got back. But she could always go by herself and she found that she didn't want to leave this place quite yet.

Maybe she would take Logan's advice and take a shower. Pleasure herself in ways she hadn't dreamt of since her grandparents passed away.

Because right now, for the first time in a long time, Rory Gilmore was happy. And it was all because of him. She hoped he knew it was always him. Even when she refused him, it wasn't because she didn't love him or want to marry him. She wasn't ready yet.

She was prepared for it now, though. Well, maybe not right away, but eventually. If they kept this whole thing up. The making out on his sofa thing. She liked that thing. She missed that thing.

Rory placed her head in her hands, willing herself to wake up from this beautiful dream, but begging for it to go on forever. It was real, though. All of it was real. Logan Huntzberger had kissed her again and had made everything better.

Tomorrow, she would call the estate agent, write a letter to her mother, go out apartment hunting and maybe bring Logan along. No, too soon. But she could send him pictures and ask what he liked best. Tomorrow, she would wake up early and go for a run, look up that amazing song she heard in the shower this morning and listen to it over and over again until she grew to hate it.

Summer was on its deathbed, but Rory had a feeling it wasn't so bad knowing how this story would end.

A/N 2: Yeah, kinda cliché ending. But they deserve it, I think. So, if you did not gather from my first Author's note, the song used in this chapter was "The Calendar" by the ever-amazing Panic! at the Disco. The song is magnificent and if you listen to the lyrics you'll understand why it was used. The title is derived from the chorus as is the tidbit Rory memorised in the shower "Put another X on the calendar, summer's on its deathbed/There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends/And I meant everything I said that night/I will come back to life/but only for you." Listen to it, love it, buy it. Whatever. You kind of need to hear it to fully understand the meaning of this One-Shot. Thanks for reading! I'll be back soon with new things and the continuing of Adam and Eve. Right now, though, it's late and I have an early class tomorrow. Yay.

Your's truly,

(insert name here)