As per usual, I own nothing. Thanks for the reviews!! This chapter is from Logan's POV.

Chapter 2 - Logan & Rory

The box sits in my coat pocket - it's one of the only safe places now that I'm staying with Rory. Every time my fingers brush over it, I get a shiver of excitement mixed with nervousness. But, right now my coat is lying over the edge of the sofa and I can see that little box by its faint outline. It signifies my future. What I hope is our future. However, now that I've talked to Lorelai, every time I think of or see that box, I also hear her voice in my head that says yes while meaning no. I know that she is right at some level, but I also know that there is so much more going on than what Lorelai is aware of… so much she and Rory don't understand. I can't bare the thought of her not being with me, and I'm intelligent enough to know that San Francisco is fast becoming my only option.

Thankfully, Paris is out celebrating her flood of acceptance letters giving me some peace to plug in my laptop and surf the internet without receiving a torrent of abuse for "wantonly sucking up power and bandwidth that daddy isn't paying for." My inbox shows a few new emails from San Francisco, as well as from some East Coast firms I had contacted earlier in the month seeking employment. Opening them, I quickly confirm they are like the dozens of others I've received over the past few weeks – polite brush offs.

"Bastard," I hiss. I know what Mitchum has done. What's worse is that I'm starting to think that he may have cast his net of destruction wider than just me. She should have gotten the fellowship. She should have offers coming out her ears. Yet the only offer she had was from a paper well known for vocally opposing everything that is anything Huntzberger. And she turned it down. I should have seen this coming. When I walked out of his office that last time, his sarcastic dismissal – wishing me luck in finding a position elsewhere – carried a tone that suggested I could be the luckiest man on earth and still not succeed.

"Give my regards to Rory," were his parting words. Well I know what your regards are like, you asshole, and you can keep them.

I pull out my cell and make a call to an old friend back at Evil Incorporated.

"Braydon-Jones speaking," the voice answers.

"Jack, old friend! Huntzberger here," I reply.

"Logan! How is Siberia treating you? What can I do for the black sheep?" Jack exclaims, humor lacing his voice.

"Siberia, huh? I suppose that is an appropriate description to the massive black cloud my father has posted over me. That was to be expected – no one disrespects Daddy dear and gets away with it. No, what I want is information about a reporter," I state, beginning to fear that my suspicions will be confirmed.

"Oh! Who is this reporter? What do you want to know?" He responds quickly.

"Gilmore. Rory Gilmore,"

"The girlfriend, huh? Well word is that she is off limits. The Dark Lord put out some whispers on the East Coast network. It was stated rather forcefully that she was not to be employed by anyone other than Huntzberger Publishing Group," Jack replies.

"Well why aren't the other groups scrapping for her then? If he wants her then the competition should be showering her with positions. She's only had one offer," I'm beginning to rant – a habit I never had before I met her.

"And she turned it down," Jack cuts in.

"How did you know?" I ask.

"Word gets around. Especially since we're always keeping a closer eye on the Providence Journal-Bulletin. The PJB is the only paper with enough guts around here to go against the ringleader. Your father, he plays hardball, Logan… you know this," He answers earnestly.

He is right, of course. I have had many years of experience when it comes to Mitchum's cold-hearted plots. He goes directly for a person's weakest spot, just like he did with Rory and the internship.

"Look, everyone knows that she is your weakness. Hell, a couple of weeks ago there was a nice little blurb about you in the gossip pages: 'guess which former playboy heir spent the daychecking out engagement rings? Good thing the heiress has insurance covered,'" Jack tells me.

"Shit. Well that means they all know then," I reply.

I can hear the locks on the apartment turning and a foot kick loosens the hinge. It's that time of day and I know that Rory is home.

"Look, she's home. Thanks for the info man, I appreciate it," I tell him.

"No problem, Huntz. Don't let him get to you. Or her," Jack answers before hanging up.

She walks through the door and she's on the phone talking a mile a minute. The pace of the conversation and the pitch of her voice indicate that Lorelai is on the other end of the phone. I've been hoping that Lorelai hasn't given away any hints about what her and I talked about, but given that she and Rory share everything I'm beginning to wonder. I look at Rory and I warm up. I feel a smile on my face for the first time in what seems like hours. However, I'm also battling this huge mass of guilt. Being with me is costing her dearly. But I'm also feeling the guilt because deep down there is a sense of happiness that this has happened. I think that I might just get what I wanted all along.

I turn back to my laptop and open up a series of rejection emails. It sounds like Rory is finishing up her conversation with her mom, and when I stand and turn at her she has a strange look on her face. Walking up to her I give her a friendly peck as she closes her phone.

"What's up, Ace?" I ask.

"What? Oh nothing really. It's just that Mom has been acting strangely for the last couple of days. She has a secret and she won't tell me," Rory answers tiredly.

"Ahh. I dare not question the inner workings of Lorelai's mind. She'll tell you eventually, Ace. Don't despair," I encourage her, wrapping her in my arms. However, when I look at her I can't keep my happy mask on any longer. I lead her over to my laptop and sit her down in front of it.

"Logan, what's the matter?" She questions me.

"Read them," I answer, pointing to the windows on the desktop.

She sits down and silently begins reading the emails I have selected. Her brow begins to furrow as she finishes one and moves to the next. I know that she is noting the names of the companies, probably recalling where they are, what they do, and who owns them. As she finishes the last one I have opened there is a strange look of fear and pity in her eyes.

"There are dozens more of them," I add.

"They're all East Coast," she states.

"Yes."

"And they look remarkably like the ones I'm getting," she whispers, her pitch dropping as realization begins to dawn.

"I just got off the phone with a friend at Mitchum's headquarters. He asked me how Siberia was," I reply.

She looks at me with a quizzical expression.

"I've been blacklisted, Rory. He's made it impossible for me to get work here. You of all people know what he's capable of, and he doesn't do things by halves," I state sadly.

"Oh, Logan," she sighs. I look into her eyes and there are tears welling up. I can't stand it any longer. I pull her into my arms on the couch so we can discuss options.

And I reach for my coat pocket.