A/N: Thank you for all of your wonderful feedback! I love writing these characters and am ecstatic that there is still a thriving fan base! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Two

Rory rushed through campus, anxiously checking her watch to see just how late she was going to be to her weekly Oxfam meeting. She'd only joined the organization a month ago – at Paris' behest following a long lecture about how they needed to get involved on campus – and she hadn't completely gotten accustomed to her new schedule. Typically Tuesday afternoons were spent in the library preparing reading for the rest of the week. That was exactly where she was when she realized the Oxfam meeting had started five minutes ago.

She reached the building and quickened her pace, taking the steps two at a time as she trekked up to the third floor. She was nearly panting by the time she reached the room.

"This is ridiculous," Paris said, ignoring Rory's arrival entirely. Rory did not know the context of the conversation, but found it entirely plausible that whatever it was Paris found it ridiculous. "We're supposed to be raising money for oppressed women in India, not hosting a kegger."

"Hello Rory," Carrie, the president of the organization, said, shooting her a somewhat weathered smile.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Rory said quickly. "Lost track of time in the library."

"No problem. I'll just get you up to speed real quick on what we're talking about and Paris is not surprisingly opposing."

"God forbid we have an event on campus that doesn't devolve to drinking contests and who-can-take-the-hottest-co-ed-home-first."

Carrie flashed a tight smile and said, "Anyway, we're planning to have a fundraiser at The Pub for oppressed women in India. We'll charge a cover to get into the bar, and three quarters of that will go toward the charity. The other quarter will go to The Pub, and in return they will give us drink specials."

"Yeah, like the people coming need specials to get themselves drunk beyond comprehension."

"I think it's a good idea," Rory said, ignoring Paris' scoff. She was sure later she'd get lectured on roommate-solidarity, and how it was something in which she was severely lacking.

"Great. We were just discussing what we need people-wise for the event, and –"

"Hey, I wasn't finished," Paris interjected. "Aren't we at all concerned with how we are watering down true fundraising? These people aren't going to care about the cause. All they'll care about is how cheap the drinks are."

"Who cares?" Carrie said, the professional veneer cracking. "We'll raise money and gain more awareness for the issues we care about. Which, might I add, is the point of fundraising. If we did it your way, we'd be sitting somberly in a room making no money."

"I wouldn't-"

"We're doing The Pub event," Carrie said firmly. Paris stewed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Alright, now, let's talk about what we need for that night."

"It's ridiculous," Paris fumed afterwards. "People are just going to get drunk and not care a bit about what the event is actually about."

"Paris, you need to let this one go."

Paris frowned. "You know I've never been good at letting things go."

"Yes," Rory said slowly, patting her shoulders. "I do."

She spotted Logan walking toward them and panicked, grabbing Paris' arm as she stammered, "Let's take the long way back to the dorm?"

"What? Why?"

"I, uh, just want some exercise," Rory said quickly. "And it's such a nice day? Isn't it a nice day?"

"It's freezing," Paris said, removing her arm from Rory's grasp. "I lost feeling in my toes about two minutes ago. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Rory said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"You never take the long way anywhere. And you hate exercise. What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing, I promise."

"First you don't take my side at the meeting," Paris lamented. "And now you're keeping things from me. You're supposed to be my roommate, Rory. My friend. Are we even really roommates anymore? Because right now we just seem like two random people who happen to sleep in the same room."

Rory was going to point out that Paris had essentially just given the definition of a roommate, but she understood what she was getting at.

"Fine," Rory said. "I will say this once, but then you have to promise not to bring it up again."

"Okay."

"Logan Huntzberger was walking toward us, and I wanted to avoid him because a few weeks ago I asked him out and he turned me down."

"Are you serious?" Paris asked, eyes wide. "Wait, was that story Janet told us- "Not about me," Rory said. "I sort of confronted him about it in the dining hall one morning."

"Confronted him?"

"There were a lot of gestures. Raised voices. Well, my raised voice. He was pretty calm about it all. Anyway, I was really embarrassed – still sort of am, actually – so I try to avoid him."

"Wow, that is embarrassing," Paris noted. "I get now why you didn't want to tell me."

"Yeah, so…"

"I can't believe you asked him out."

"I know," Rory said. "It was sort of on a whim. Ever since Dean got married I've been in a, I don't know, a funk?"

"That's understandable. He was your first love."

"Yeah, I guess," Rory said. "I don't know. I thought branching out would be good."

"And?"

"You know, it's not for me," Rory answered reasonably.

Paris considered something for a moment and then said, "So, you asked him out before you knew he was a Huntzberger?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Just saying – that would have been the catch of a lifetime."

Four days later Rory stood in front of her closet, trying to pick out an outfit for her fundraiser that night while she had her daily phone chat with Lorelai.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Lorelai asked. "Got a hot date or something?"

"No, my Saturday night plans are much more tame. I have a fundraiser for Oxfam at The Pub."

"That was the place with the really good cappuccinos, right?"

"Yeah. Definitely getting one of those tonight."

"So, what are you wearing?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Rory said. "What exactly is an appropriate fundraiser outfit?"

"I'd go with your purple dress. It's a step up from the typical going out fare, but not too fancy that you'll look like you're cruising for men."

"How do you remember my purple dress?" Rory asked, pulling the sleeveless dress off the hanger. She picked up her cream cardigan off of her desk chair and threw it on her bed to wear with the dress.

"Because I was super bummed when you took it with you because that meant I couldn't borrow it."

"You know, you had the entire first two years I had it to borrow it."

"I know, coulda-shoulda-woulda. Anyway, try to have some fun tonight. Don't just talk about poor people all night."

"That is sort of the point of a fundraiser."

"Yeah, but that's not all you need to talk about. You could say something like, gee, isn't it awful that they only have this much food a day, and hey, that reminds me of last night's American's Next Top Model. Did you watch it?"

Rory snorted. "Very smooth, Mom."

"I'm a master at the smooth conversation changer. You see me do it at least three times at every Friday night dinner."

"Hair up or down?" Rory asked, moving over to her mirror. It was chin-length now, and she couldn't decide which style to go with.

"Definitely down. Give the boys there a chance."

"I'm not there for boys."

"Doesn't mean you can't look nice for them. You never know who you'll meet. Who knows, Prince Harry could be there."

"Prince Harry? Why would Prince Harry be at The Pub?"

"He likes to party," Lorelai answered reasonably. "Crazier things have happened."

"Alright, fine, I'll wear my hair down in case Prince Harry is there," Rory said sarcastically.

"Good choice, babe. You won't regret it. Alright, I have to run to Doose's. Do you know we're out of poptarts?"

"What is this world coming to?"

"Right? Be safe tonight, and call me tomorrow with all the details. And if Prince Harry is there, I want pictures."

"Will do. Love you, Mom."

"You too, babe."

The Pub was packed that night with a surprising turnout to the Oxfam fundraiser. They'd expected to get good numbers, but this was beyond what any of them had projected. Carrie had done a quick counting of the money, and they'd already raised over three hundred dollars.

Rory glanced around the bar, sipping on her cappuccino. There were groups of people chatting, enjoying their Saturday night. One group unfortunately found themselves caught by Paris, who was giving an emphatic speech about the horrors that women faced in India. Rory learned on their way to The Pub that Paris decided to reconcile her discontent with the event by doggedly reinforcing the cause behind the fundraiser. Paris spent the first hour of the fundraiser going group to group with her lectures. People now actively avoided her.

"I think you might be the only person here drinking coffee," Logan said, appearing at her side. She stepped back in surprise, knocking into someone as they passed.

"Watch out!" the girl snapped, holding her drink away from her dress.

"Sorry," Rory said.

"Well, don't you just incite sunshine and happiness everywhere you go," Logan teased.

"I'm usually not this easily startled," Rory said.

"I'm sure you're not. So, how have you been? I haven't seen you since…" he trailed off as he thought of the last time they talked. She knew that he was absolutely clear of their last interaction, and the goading smile said it all as he said, "Oh, right, since that time you yelled at me in the middle of the dining hall."

"You know, that was embarrassing for me," Rory said defensively.

"I know. And what better way to remove that stigma than to laugh at it?"

"Um, I don't know, how about not talking about it?" she returned. She went to walk away and he said, "Come on, I'm just playing with you, Ace."

She turned around and asked, "What's with the Ace? You do remember my actual name, right?"

"Yes, Rory, I remember your name," he said.

"So, the Ace…"

"A nickname."

"Shouldn't you know someone a bit better before giving them a nickname?"

He grinned. "Probably, but I promise your nickname is actually based on you."

"It is?"

He nodded. "It 's short for Ace reporter. After you yelled at me the first time in the newspaper office, I went ahead and read some of your articles. They were the online format, so I can't vouch for them being above the fold as you said, but they were pretty good. So, Ace reporter. It suits you."

"Thank you," Rory said uncertainly.

"I can't believe how many people are so ignorant as to the actual reason they're all here," Paris said sourly, joining them.

"Well, then at least you're spreading the word," Rory said.

"Do you know someone thought this was some themed party? He told me the costumes he ultimately rejected. I don't think I've ever been so offended in my life."

"Well, whether they know what it is or not, their money still goes toward the charity," Logan said. "That's what matters, right?"

"Typical," Paris said, shooting him a look. "Let me guess, you have no idea what you're here for besides cheap beer and hitting on my roommate."

"Paris!" Rory exclaimed, cheeks coloring.

"It's an Oxfam fundraiser for oppressed women in India," Logan said easily, ending the statement with a jaunty smile. "And let that teach you not to judge a book by its cover."

"Lucky answer," Paris grumbled, turning away and storming off in the direction of another unassuming group who was about to have their fun stomped on.

"For the record, I'm not hitting on you," Logan said, glancing down at Rory.

"I didn't think you were," Rory stammered.

"That would be a whole bundle of mixed signals."

"Yes, it would."

"So, can I buy you another cappuccino? It looks like yours is running low."

"Um, sure?" she said, thinking that for someone so intent on not giving mixed signals, he was doing a pretty awful job.

"It's a friendly gesture," he filled in, seemingly reading into her uncertainty. He started toward the bar and she followed him. "I feel bad about before."

"You don't have to."

"No, I do," he said, sidling up to the bar and glancing over at her. "You seem really nice, it's just that I don't date. I'm not good at it, never have been. And then you thought I was making fun of you. I feel like an unintentional jerk."

"Well, like you said, it was unintentional."

He ordered her another cappuccino and one for himself, too. When she asked what made him order one he said, "I couldn't let you be the only person drinking coffee here. But, I have to warn you, if my friends see us they will mock us endlessly."

Rory thought of her mother and said, "I can handle a good mocking. Don't worry."

They chatted a little more until a tall brunette came over, glancing over his shoulder hurriedly as he said, "Good, I dodged her."

"Dodged who?" Logan asked.

"See that blonde with the orange sweater?" he said, gesturing toward Paris. Logan and Rory exchanged look.

"Yeah, what about her?" Logan asked.

"She keeps going on about starving women and children in India. Like, who the hell wants to hear about that on a Saturday night?"

"Right, who here would want to hear about that?" Logan said slowly, sending Rory a grin.

"Who is she, anyway?" he asked after a moment.

In unison Rory and Logan murmured, "No idea."

By the end of the night Oxfam raised over 500 dollars for their charity. Even Paris had to admit it was a pretty good haul.

"So, do you finally admit this was a good idea?" Rory asked while her and Paris made their way back to the dorm.

"No," Paris said, stubbornly holding her ground. "Anyway, I saw you and Huntzbrger getting all chummy. You didn't ask him out again, did you?"

"No!" Rory said loudly. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You were with him for most of the night."

"No, I wasn't," Rory argued, although she knew Paris was right. Logan ended up introducing her to all of his friends, and they ended up being an entertaining group. She didn't even realize she'd been with them so long until Paris came over and asked if she was ready to leave.

"Well, you looked about two steps from asking him out again. You were all moon-eyed."

"I was not moon-eyed," Rory retorted. "And, besides, he told me he's not the dating type."

"Why would he tell you that?"

"He felt bad about the whole situation."

"Meaning…"

"You know, him turning me down and then me thinking that he was spreading these stories about me."

"That's a shame," Paris said after a moment.

"What is?"

"You not dating him," Paris said. "I was going to cash in on so many best-friend-benefits."

A/N: Reviews are love.