Gilmore Girls

Uncanny

A/N: Lol. I know that this is confusing. I wrote it. I promise it will all come together soon. If there's any queries other than if it's going to be a Rogan or Trory or how Rory and Logan broke up OR how Rory and Tristan got together, please ask. The other questions will be answered soon. Happy reading! Evie. x

Summary: The voice on the answering machine. The picture on the entertainment. Both are eerily, uncannily familiar. L/R/T in London.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Gilmore Girls in anyway.


Chapter Two


He heard her before he saw her. He had left the apartment door slightly ajar almost as if he had planned escape. He was reclining on the lounge, looking silently out the window.

"I can't believe it," he heard her say. He knew from the tone and timbre of her voice that she was talking, not to Lorelai, but to Tristan. "No, I'm not inside yet but the door's a little bit open. I hardly think I'm going to need protection. Do you think your dad would let an axe-murderer come and live here? I know you think he hates you but he loves me. I'm going to go. Of course I'll call you back. Chinese or Indian? I'll find out. Don't worry; even if he is cute, I'm with you. You too. Bye."

He heard the beep as she hung up her phone. He could feel her presence on the other side of the door. She pushed the door open and peered in.

"Oh, holy night," she exclaimed, coining the phrase Lorelai has used earlier.

"Hey, Ace," he replied, standing up. Her face was pale but suddenly a smile split across her face and she walked into his arms.

"Logan! Oh my gosh," she cried. She pulled away and surveyed him. "You're our new roomie?"

He noticed the way she said 'our' and it jarred him slightly but he smiled.

"Sure looks like it," he replied.

"How's life? And how was America? Finn and Colin never tell me anything anymore," she said, placing her bags down on the coffee table. One fell and crashed to the floor but she left it and made her way into the kitchen. "Do you want a drink or something? I'm going to put the kettle on."

"Sure," he answered, sauntering into the kitchen. He sat on one of the stools at the bench and watched her move effortlessly around her domain. "You look good."

"Thanks," she said. She was more confident than she had ever been. She filled the kettle with water and flicked the switch. "Listen, I have to call Tristan back. Do you remember him? He said he'd pick up dinner on the way. What do you feel like? I think Chinese and Indian are on top of the list but we can get anything you want. Thai, Moroccan, Italian."

"Chinese sounds fine," he replied.

"Great," she answered. "I'm just going to get changed and call him but when I'm done you and I are going to talk. About everything."

He watched her go and sighed. The confidence was real but she wasn't. If she was trying to prove to him that she wasn't rattled, wasn't nervous, it wasn't working. The false display of bravado was different and her confidence was unexpected but at the moment he was pleased to see she'd changed.

The phone rang and he picked it up. Seeing the name on the I.D, he grinned. Lorelai had always had a knack of calling at the right time.

"I didn't tell her," she cried, not waiting to see who answered. "I promise. Is she home?"

"She's home," he replied.

"I thought I should call you and tell you that they aren't married or engaged but they are pretty serious and if you try to break them up, I will kill you," Lorelai explained. "I don't love Tristan almost half as much as I love you but she loves him. I think. She's happy anyway."

"I wasn't planning on breaking them up," he sighed. Not yet anyway. He'd barely had time to process that she was standing here, in front of him, alive.

"Good. How is she?" Lorelai asked.

"Strange. She gave me a hug and asked questions and then left to get changed and call the husband," he told her.

"Hmm. Faking it, huh?" Lorelai murmured. "She hasn't changed, Logan, really. She's just trying to make you think she has. It will all come undone."

"I know that," he replied. "I'd better go. She's coming back."

"Tell her I love her," Lorelai exclaimed. "And I love you too."

"I will. Oh, and Mrs. Robinson? I love you more," Logan joked.

"Dirty," Lorelai shot-back. She hung up and Logan turned to Rory grinning. She raised an eyebrow but poured the mugs of coffee anyway.

"Answering the phone already?" she asked, her voice slightly pinched. She spooned something brown into the cups and then filled them with hot water and milk before turning to him. "Who was it?"

"It was some guy. It could have been Tristan," he answered. Rory's face paled and he laughed. "Relax, Ace. It was your mother. She said she loves you."

"Oh, I see," Rory smiled. She pushed a white porcelain mug over to him and he gratefully accepted it.

"You drink instant now?" he asked, glancing down at the murky brown liquid.

"It isn't coffee," she replied.

"I don't want it then," he said. He stood up and walked to the sink and poured it out. She cried out and slapped his arm.

"That was the best hot chocolate in the world," she gasped. She glared at him angrily and he laughed. "Don't think I'm making you another cup, Huntzberger."

"I don't care. I didn't want hot chocolate. I wanted coffee," he replied, the smirk never once leaving his face.

"You are still a butt-faced miscreant," she spat.

"Good," he said seriously. "Now that you've slipped up, you can stop it now, Ace."

"Stop what?" she asked after taking a sip.

"Stop the act," he said, his tone slightly biting.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied, her tone cautious. "This is how I always am."

"No. It's not," he whispered. "You have never been like this. This isn't you. You aren't so welcoming and so blasé."

"Oh, so you mean I'm cold and uptight? Is that what you're saying?" she spat.

"Ace, can we not argue? You and I are going to be living together. It isn't going to work if we fight all the time," he said. She glared slightly but he held out his hand. "Truce?"

"Truce, but only if you accept that I am who I am and I might have changed," she offered, holding out her hand. He nodded and clasped her hand between his. A jolt ran through him and she went to pull her hand away but he was stronger and he held it. "You have to let go of my hand, Logan."

"I don't have to do anything," he replied, letting her fingers slip through his. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Rory walked away and sat on the couch. He watched her settle herself in by fixing her hair and kicking off her shoes. She tucked her legs up under her and patted the couch next to him.

"Come," she said. "Tell me about London."

"After you left?" he asked. A trace of the old days seeped into his eyes and there was a slight touch of bitterness. She glared and he grinned, blinking the sadness away. "Sorry, the truce. There's not much to tell. I went, I lived, I worked. It was just like when you were there but less coffee and no you."

"Were there girls?" she asked, as he sat next to her.

"There was a girl," he admitted, carefully. She nodded and he was stung by her nonchalance.

"It was Arianne, wasn't it?" she asked, her mouth forming a smile. There was a knowing look pasted all over her face. She took his silence as confirmation and sadly, she was right. "I knew it! She couldn't help herself. Even when I was standing right next to you, she was all over you. How long did it take before she made her move?"

"You have changed," he said, sadly. The smile fell off her face and she turned to him.

"I think I grew up," she said. She heard soft footsteps on the stairs and her demeanor changed again. She grew brighter as she stood up. "That'll be Tristan."

Sure enough, the door slid open a few seconds later. Rory walked over to him, purposefully and with ease, and waited until he'd set the bag of food and his briefcase down before she launched herself into his arms.

He watched them as they swung together. Tristan's head dipped down to meet Rory's lips more easily and they kissed, softly but lovingly. She moved her arms up around his neck and said something. He laughed and bent down to peck her before murmuring something back. She motioned behind her back and Tristan looked over at Logan who was sitting on the house. Logan raised a hand in greeting and Tristan nodded.

"It's been while, Huntzberger," Tristan said. He didn't hide the disgust in his voice nor did he hide the menace. He placed an arm securely around his girl and smiled. Logan did not miss the subtext. Tristan was telling him in no uncertain times that Rory was his now and that there was nothing he could do about it. Logan, being Logan, understood it all too well and it was only because he knew Rory would be uncomfortable with them fighting that he ignored it.

"Too long, Du Grey," he said as sincerely as he could. "Too long."

-

As the night went on, he realized that she had changed. She wasn't so innocent anymore. She had never been naïve but she still seemed a lot more worldly and wary. In a very un-Ace move, she had watched the television in silence, leaving Tristan and Logan to mock it half-heartedly and when Logan had offered to make popcorn or grab the marshmallows and a candle, she declined saying she was tired and ready for bed.

It was 9.30. Ace never went to bed before 9.30.

He blamed his dad for making her change. He had offered her an editor in-chief's position at another of his London papers and being Ace, she had accepted. His dad hadn't given any conditions for the promotion but Logan knew that the desired outcome had been achieved- Rory out of his son's life and out of the way. Mitchum was smarter than most gave him credit for. He knew that the editor's job was Rory's dream and he knew that she would be willing to give anything up for it. It was Logan who hadn't realized that she would even give him up. He wondered if Rory had changed her mind now. The very paper she worked on was the one he was working with now and the very position she had been given was the very one he was moving into. Temporarily and just so he she could 'train' him but he was taking over nonetheless.

A knock came at his door and Rory opened it without waiting for an answer.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," she said, sticking her head into his bedroom. He looked up and their eyes locked. She smiled at him and he found himself smiling back.

"I'm doing fine," he answered.

"How's the room?" she asked, truly concerned. "You can take the spare, if you want. We just thought you'd be more comfortable here. There's a better view but it's a little bit smaller."

"The room is fine, Ace," he replied, a little bit more roughly than he had intended. Her concern was touching but it was getting on his nerves. She frowned but quickly recovered. "How are you feeling about me shoving you out of your spot?"

"Logan, you and I both now that this is just temporary and that my job isn't really going to change that much," she replied. She said it with mirth but he heard the accusation underneath.

"You think I'm going to just sit around and bark orders into my telephone in-between screwing my secretary?" he asked not bothering to cover the disappointment and rebuke in his voice. She bit her lip nervously and stepped towards him. She stopped after two steps and shook her head.

"I just wanted to say good-night," she said, tentatively. He sighed and let his shoulders sag as she smiled again. "Good night, Logan."

"Good night, Ace," he replied, softer. It was not as difficult to say as he thought it might be. She pulled the door closed and he heard her slump against it briefly. She waited a moment and then he heard her pad across the wooden floorboards. A door was opened and shut and he could hear Rory and Tristan talking in soft tones. The words were too warped to make out what they were saying but if Logan knew Rory, and he did, they were talking about him. And when he heard the slightly raised voices, he knew they weren't talking. They were fighting.