A/N: I got this idea at work and could not shake it. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter One
Rory hadn't spent much time thinking about how she would lose her virginity, but if she had, the daydream probably wouldn't have involved her twin bed and married ex-boyfriend. Frankly, she was surprised they both fit there. It was a bit of a squeeze, but that sort of closeness really didn't get in the way when you were doing the act. In fact, it almost helped. It lasted less than five minutes. When they were finished he rolled off of her, nearly tumbling onto her floor that probably hadn't been vacuumed since Lorelai bought the house. She pulled him close, not wanting the distance just yet. He obliged, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. The setting was less than perfect, and she could feel his wedding ring pressing hard against her shoulder, but she didn't care. Rory spent so much of her life trying to be good and to do the right thing, but in this moment she was thoroughly enjoying doing the wrong thing.
They played a game of picking out their song on the radio, his mouth finding her neck as she gamely sang along to The Candy Man Can. His hand covered her breast and she stopped singing. How could one person feel so good? He put his weight down on her again and she arched her back, already rearing for the next go. And then they heard Lorelai.
He pulled away from her immediately, steadying himself messily with a hand on her nightstand. He almost knocked a book clear off it, but the hardcover halted at the precarious edge. She jumped up and searched for her clothes, haphazardly calling out to Lorelai that she'd be right out. Her underwear was right at the foot of the bed, jeans next to it. She found her shirt balled up in front of her desk. She quickly dressed and then walked out into the hallway. Dean followed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Lorelai asked, looking between them warily.
"Dean came over to borrow something," Rory said quickly.
"Yeah, thanks," Dean said.
"You're welcome," she said. She thought of him naked in her bed only minutes earlier and her cheeks flushed.
"Well, ah, I should go. Bye, Lorelai."
Dean rushed out, leaving Rory alone with her mother. Rory rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably as Lorelai asked, "So, what did he come here to borrow?"
Lorelai saw right through her and Rory knew she would. They always saw each other, even if they didn't necessarily understand. And, so, Rory told her. She told her about Dean. She made some inappropriate Trojan Man joke. All the while Lorelai remained silent, her expression guarded.
"Aren't you glad it happened with someone who's good and really loves me?" Rory said.
"He's married."
"You don't understand the situation," Rory said quickly.
"Is he still married?"
Rory bristled. She thought about the way his ring dug into her skin. "Yes, but –"
"Then I understand the situation."
She didn't. She didn't understand anything. Dean loved her. That was what mattered right now. Nothing else mattered. Everything else was white noise, distracting from the beautiful moment that her and Dean shared. And it was beautiful. It was special and personal, and something that Lorelai couldn't take away from them. No one could. She walked away from Lorelai and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She dialed his number, needing to hear his voice. After two rings his wife answered.
Rory clicked out of the call, her knees buckling as she dropped down onto the front steps. Lorelai came out, but she couldn't talk to her. Shame burned through her, even as she tried to reclaim the certainty she felt before. It was right. They were right.
"Hey, let's talk," Lorelai said gently.
"No."
Rory stood abruptly and walked back to her room. She closed the door loudly and turned slowly back into the room. Her gaze landed on her bed. Sheets crumpled. A tin foil peeking from underneath her bed skirt. When the gravity of what happened hit her, Rory covered her face with her hands and cried.
Dean called her the next day and they drove outside of town to meet. They were going to talk through things. Figure out what happened next. They'd barely gotten past introductions before they ended up in the back of his car. That was how it went for the next week. They met to talk and ended up tangled together in the back of a car or on a yoga mat at Ms. Patti's Dance Studio. That was the last place, Dean zipping up his pants as Rory wound her hair up at the nape of her neck. Sweat dotted her hair line and she wryly remarked, "I never thought I'd like physical activity but this might be a game changer."
Dean chuckled. "Is that so?"
"We should stop pretending to talk and just book a motel somewhere," Rory suggested, walking over to him and draping her arms around his neck. "I want to spend time with you. Not…whatever this is. Not that I'm not enjoying it. Because I am. A lot. But, don't you want more?"
Something shifted in his gaze and she felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.
"Don't you?" she repeated softly.
"I don't think we should do this anymore," he said. "I love you, Rory. You know I do. But, I made a promise to Lindsay. I promised to be faithful to her, and knowing that I broke that promise…she doesn't deserve this. She deserves better and I think I should at least try."
Rory stared at him. "You're staying with her? We-we just had sex on a yoga mat. I mean, how can you stay with her?"
"She's my wife."
The insinuation was clear. Lindsay was his wife and she was not. She was the mistress. The other woman. The cliché in every bad made for television movie. Suddenly, she felt the need to be far away.
"I have to go," Rory said.
"I never meant to hurt you," Dean said. He reached out to her but she pulled away. She grabbed her purse off the floor and hurried out of the dance studio. Her cheeks burned with shame as she remembered all the times she and Dean made a mockery of his marriage that week. How had she become this person? She prided herself on good judgment, and here she was repeatedly making the worst decision only to have that bad decision break up with her. It wasn't fair, and she wasn't the only wronged party in this situation. In fact, she might not be one at all. Rory thought of Lindsay waiting at home for Dean and her stomach turned.
Rory didn't tell Lorelai when it ended. It was too embarrassing. She had been so concrete in her feeling that it was right. He was right. She was too embarrassed to admit that Lorelai was right all along. She knew Lorelai wouldn't hold it against her, but Rory found herself doing that for her. It wasn't right. It wasn't special. It wasn't some all defining moment that would define her and Dean's relationship for years to come. At least not how she thought it would.
So, when a few days later, Rory sat with Emily and Lorelai at that table and Emily offered to take her to Europe, the answer was simple. Yes. Absolutely. How soon could they leave? Lorelai immediately read into her quick acceptance of Emily's invitation, but Rory stayed silent as to her true motivations. Lorelai couldn't know, at least not yet. And so, with things as unsettled as ever between Rory and her mother, she set off to Rome with her grandmother, happy to leave Stars Hollow and Dean Forrestor behind.
Growing up, Rory had always thought of her grandmother as one of the most elegant women she had seen. Her sweater sets were always perfectly pressed. Half inch pearls nestled smartly just above the neckline of her cashmere shell. Lorelai always spoke snidely of her mother's pristine presentation, but Rory secretly admired it. She used to sneak into Emily and Richard's bathroom during those big holiday dinners and spray Chanel No. 5 on the inside of her wrist. She remembered sneaking sniffs of her wrist all night. As beguiling as Hartford Emily Gilmore may have been, she had nothing on European Emily Gilmore. While Rory was practically melting in the Roman heat, Emily glistened. She wore simple shift dresses with her hair combed back away from her face. Rory noticed she seemed to shed years along with layers across the ocean, the smart décor and attentive men adding a definite pep to her grandmother's step.
"I used to spend time in Rome every summer when I was young," Emily told her over cappuccinos one afternoon. "I firmly believe that some time in Europe should be part of every young woman's life. Even if it's only for a few days, the experience is invaluable."
Emily smiled at Rory over the rim of her coffee cup. "I'm very honored that I get to introduce you to Europe, Rory. Thank you for coming with me."
"Thank you for inviting me," Rory said. "These past few days have been amazing. I've already seen so much. But, I have been to Europe before, remember? Mom and I went?"
"Yes, your trip where you stayed in filthy hostels," Emily said tartly. "That is not the way to experience Europe, Rory. Trust me."
"Our hotel is pretty amazing," Rory conceded. "Have you tried the robes?"
"The robes are marvelous," Emily agreed with a small grin. "So, you were at the Colossium earlier today, yes? Tell me how you liked it," Emily said, leaning forward attentively.
Rory nodded. "It was pretty amazing."
"I remember my first time seeing it. The breadth of it all is just breathtaking."
Rory nodded, thinking that what was also breathtaking was the gelato stand outside the Colosseum that Rory stopped by both on her way in and out of the historical site. She remembered thinking of Lorelai as she scoped out all the flavors and how when they were in Rome she tried to sample every flavor at a gelato stand. The owner got so mad that he threw them out, yelling what were likely many profanities as they spilled out into the busy street. She took a long sip of coffee, reminding herself silently that she was not supposed to be thinking about Lorelai, or anything else related to Stars Hollow.
"Rory?"
She looked up, Emily's voice effectively pulling her from her memories. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I asked if you'd like to join me at the hotel pool. It's just late enough that the sun won't be absolutely scorching."
Rory shook her head. "I actually was planning to go to this art fair down here. Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
"You can come with," Rory offered.
"No, you go have fun," Emily said, waving down the waiter to pay. He made a beeline for their table and Emily sighed, "European service. Why do I ever leave?"
Rory read about the art fair in the local paper. While her speaking Italian was extremely slim, she was able to read a fair amount from her Latin classes. She picked up a stray newspaper on a bus she was taking and saw it advertised on one of the pages. She'd never particularly liked art, nor did she know much about it, but something about being in Europe made her want to soak up as much culture as possible. She'd seen most of the historical sites with Lorelai during their trip – save for the Colosseum, which she took care of – so she took to the local scene to fill her time.
The art fair took place in an abandoned church. Light poured in through the stained glass windows, making unintentional shapes dance on the canvases. Rory walked through slowly, stopping occasionally at a table with something that caught her eye. Rory stopped at a table that had paintings that she could only eloquently describe as weird. There was one painting of a dog playing violin. Another depicted a sad clown doing his taxes. Rory pushed the sad clown to the side and her hand curled around a painting of an oompa loompa sitting at an old-school diner booth. The placed almost looked like Luke's. It was perfect. For that person that Rory wasn't supposed to be thinking about.
She bought it immediately.
The small price sticker said it was twenty seven euros, and Rory pulled out her cash, quickly pulling out the appropriate bills. The vendor was over talking with another customer, and she waited, hearing him say something about salmon. After a few minutes he turned back to Rory, and she gave the vendor the money and waited for her change. When he handed it back, she quickly counted it and saw that he was off.
"Um, excuse me," she said, her voice grabbing his attention. "You didn't give me back enough change."
He stared blankly at her.
"It's twenty seven euros. I gave you forty. You only gave me eight back."
He shrugged and shook his head.
"No, see, you didn't give me the correct change," she said loudly.
"No inglese," the man said.
Rory tried, ineffectually, to tell him that he gave her wrong change in Italian, and when he looked at her in even more confusion, she sighed and said, "Okay, I know you speak English! I heard you say salmon!"
"No. No inglese."
Rory felt her heart beating rapidly against her chest. It was happening again. Another man taking advantage of her. Just like Dean. Well, this guy wasn't going to win. She was getting her change. Just as she went to lay it into him, a blonde man approached and began to yell at the vendor in Italian. She watched as the vendor shook his head vigorously and then gestured sharply toward her.
"Hey, I'm not the one trying to stiff you!" she spewed back angrily.
The blonde looked back at her and said, "Just let me handle this, okay?"
She blinked rapidly and stammered, "Okay."
It went on for a few minutes before the vendor shoved the rest of her change into the blonde's hand and thrust the painting toward her angrily.
"Go!" he said angrily. "Just take your painting and go!"
"I knew you spoke English!" Rory said triumphantly, pointing a finger at him as the blonde took a hold of her arm and pulled her away from the table.
"Better to leave while you're ahead," he explained. "The vendors here tend to gang up on difficult customers."
"I was not being difficult," she held stubbornly. "He took that money from me. It was mine. Typical man. Just taking what he wants and not thinking about how it affects other people."
The blonde smirked. "You're getting pretty heated over five euros."
"It's not the euros, it's the principle."
"Sure."
"Thank you, by the way, for jumping in like that. I really wasn't getting anywhere with him."
"You're welcome," he said. He held out a hand. "I'm Logan."
"I'm Rory," she said, taking his hand. "Nice to meet you, Logan."
They walked out together, heading nowhere in particular as Logan said, "That's quite the painting you bought."
"It's for my mom," Rory admitted. "She's a big oompa loompa fan. Actually too big of an oompa loompa fan, probably."
"I didn't know there was a such thing."
"You haven't met my mom."
She thought of Lorelai's reaction at seeing the painting and suddenly missed her so much that it hurt. Rory crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Anyway, thanks again."
"It's really not a big deal. I got to try out some new Italian swear words. They went over very well."
"Oh, well, I'm glad to hear that."
"So, where are you headed?" Logan asked. "And I mean that in a polite way. Not a stalking way."
Rory laughed. "I was going to go get coffee near my hotel." She studied his face for a moment. It was a nice face. Open and kind. It was the type of face a girl needed after getting her heart broken. "Do you want to come?"
He smiled a bit. "Yeah, sure."
They took the bus back to the café and sat at one of the tables out on the patio. Rory could feel the sun on her shoulders and the back of her neck. They talked about anything and everything. Rory couldn't have told anyone when they got there or how long they stayed, but time felt too quick when he looked down at his watch and said, "Well, I better be heading back."
"Back to where?"
"My hotel," he said with a wry grin. "I'm over at the Four Seasons. Although, your Plaza is not a shabby choice. Their robes are kick ass."
Rory grinned. "I completely agree with you."
"Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Rory. Maybe I'll see you around."
"Yeah, maybe."
He put a few euros down on the table to cover his coffee and then walked out onto the street. She watched him depart until her phone buzzed. She looked down and felt her stomach twist when she saw it was a message from Dean.
Hey Rory. Just wanting to see how you are doing.
She had been doing fine. Now, not so much. She deleted the message and shoved her phone in her purse. When they waiter came by she pointed at her empty coffee cup and said, "One more, please."
A/N: Reviews are love! And make me write!