DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, the show, any of it. I just think it rocks.

A/N: This is the first Gilmore Girls story I've done, and the first story i've done in a while, so just tell me what you think (nicely, please)! This is pretty much after the ending of Season 6, when Logan's off in London. Two songs that I think go really well with the story/plot are Imogen Heap's "Clear the Area" and "Have You Got It In You?" if you want something to listen to while you read. I suggest these two. Again, I don't own them, they just rock. Please read and review!!! :]

Six months. It had been six long months, and Rory couldn't take it anymore. The separation was getting to her this morning, just like it did every morning. She couldn't take it, she really couldn't.

She had been tossing around the idea for a while now. She had a few extra classes to her course- she had more time now that he was in London- and found out she could take a single online course next semester, and she would be able to graduate.

Which meant that she could leave Yale. She could still graduate from Yale, and she could fly to London.

She looked online, and found that the next flight out would be tomorrow. She quickly did the math. If she took that flight, she could probably get to Logan's apartment around eleven at night. Hopefully, he'd be there.

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Paris?"

The answer she heard was sharp. "Yes?"

"Hey, I was just letting you know that I won't be at the newsroom tomorrow." Rory paused. "Maybe not for a few weeks. Or maybe- I don't know."

"Why? Is everything alright at home?" Paris asked, concerned. Though sometimes hardhearted, Paris knew the kind of crazy life she had with Lorelai and her grandparents.

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's just- I'm going to see Logan."

"In London?" Paris asked.

"Yes, Paris, in London. That's where he sort of lives," replied Rory, rolling her eyes.

"Why?" asked Paris bluntly.

"Because I miss him," said Rory. "I love him. And the thing is, I've figured out that if I take two courses online, I can still graduate in the spring."

"You're not thinking of moving there, are you?" demanded Paris.

"Well-"

"Rory! You can't do this! You're just going to go off for a guy? And leave Yale? Do you know what this says about us? It says that women are just supposed to follow a man into whatever he's doing, and just completely forget whatever kind of goals and careers they have-"

"Paris!" Rory said.

"What? I'm just saying that you don't even-"

"It's not final yet," Rory said. "It's just a consideration. A back-up plan. We'll see."

"We'll see?" Paris repeated.

"Yes, we'll see," said Rory. "Now, I have to go to the airport tomorrow, but I was just wondering if you or Doyle could tell people at the newsroom that I wouldn't be there for a while, and while I'm gone, you two are in charge." She paused. "And I do mean both of you. The dictatorship is out, Paris."

"Geez, harsh," said Paris. "But yes, I will inform everyone. Doyle and I are just heading over there to turn in a couple things and grab Doyle's folder- which he forgot again. We'll just tell everyone then."

"Thanks, Paris," said Rory. "And thank Doyle for me too."

"Will do," said Paris. "Have fun on your trip. Tell Huntzberger I said hi."

"Will do," Rory replied. "Thanks, Paris."

"Bye, Rory."

"Bye, Paris."

"She's going." The voice on the phone was whispered.

"How long?" This voice was crackley, scratchy, demanding.

"I don't know. At least a few weeks. Maybe more."

"That means she staying." The demanding voice sighed. "Thank you. Call me again if you have any more information."

"Yes, sir," said the whispered voice.

The whispered voice hung up, and the scratchy voice spoke again as another call was dialed. "Yes, hello?" it said.

"Hello." This voice had a normal tone, but still sounded menacing, scary.

"You remember what I told you a few weeks ago?" asked the scratchy voice.

"Yes."

"Well, it's happening. Find her."

"Yes, sir."

And then they both hung up.