"So we got up this morning, and he had his car service drive us to LaGuardia. We said goodbye, and now I'm back in my apartment, sitting on my couch, talking to you."

"That's so fabulous. You live such a charmed existence. I'll admit, though, I'm finding it a little hard to digest that you didn't get R-Rated in your hotel room."

"April!"

"What?! It's true. You have this amazing and special evening, and I'm supposed to believe you invited him to your room to cuddle? I'm not naïve, Rory. I think you're leaving out some scandalous facts. I'm 21. I'm pre-med. I can handle both the risqué and the biological details. Come on. Truth!"

Rory leaned her head back on her soft, red couch and smiled. She was telling her sister the truth, even if she had omitted some of the more personal details. The sweetness of the evening was something she wanted to keep for herself for a bit longer.

And it was an evening she kept replaying over and over again in her mind.

Once she led Logan upstairs to her room, sneaking in intimate kisses on the elevator ride to her 10th floor space, she realized that she hadn't thought through her impulsive invitation. The rush was giving her a slight headache, and she began to panic that they were moving entirely too fast.

They continued to passionately kiss as she fumbled to find her room key in her purse when she pushed him back gently. "Logan, maybe this wasn't my best idea."

Frozen, the panic that enveloped him was obvious. "What do you mean? Do you want me to go?" His hands sat, paused on her waist. "Is everything ok? I thought—"

"No, no. It's not that. I'm really not ready to say goodbye to you yet, Logan, but I also don't think it's wise for us…..to jump in to anything…tonight." She realized she started to nervously play with her necklace again. It was as if touching it made her feel connected to him even more, and she silently prayed he would understand her rationale.

His face filled with relief. "God, Ace don't scare me like that. I was afraid you were about to send me to walk the mean streets of New York in the middle of the night to face murders and gang members."

"Logan…"

"I could be killed out there." When she rolled her eyes, he continued seriously. "Rory, the only thing I care about right now is being with you. I understand." He affectionately grabbed the detailing on her dress and pulled her closer to him. "But warning: I am probably going to keep kissing you so if you aren't ok with that—" She quieted him by reciprocating his warning with a kiss of her own.

With that, she led him into the hotel room where they both kicked off their shoes, put away their watches, phones and all other distractions and fell together on top of the fluffy white down comforter. She watched as he removed his tie, clearing his chest for the perfect pillow to lay her head. She fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her in a protective hold, and she couldn't remember when she had last felt so content. She'd woken up a few times when she felt his lips tenderly kiss her forehead or when he shifted and pulled her closer to him.

It was amazing to her that even after all of these years he still felt the same. Sure, his blonde hair had a bit more aged brown than before and the six-pack wasn't quite as defined, but it was still him.

They didn't talk much, and she was ok with that. She wasn't ready to have a heart-to-heart about the missing years and the people who had come and gone from their lives in the interim. She hoped that would come, but she also realized that this could just be a fleeting thing: a chance to relive the past for a few hours.

And although she was pretty sure that she had a great dream, she was having difficulty deciphering which was real and which one was the fantasy, because the reality she was living in was pretty fantastic.

All too soon, she heard a familiar but obnoxious repeating buzz. The feature she hated most about her iPhone was not only waking her up but was reminding her that her time with Logan was drawing to a close.

Sleepily he pulled her closer to him. "I hate your phone so much, Ace. Can I throw it in the Hudson?"

"No way, Mister. You've already ruined one company issued phone this weekend. I'd have a hard time explaining to my boss why my bill shows two water-logged devices in two days."

"You'd think Tim Cook could come up with a water proof phone."

Lifting her head from his chest, she giggled. "Hey, why don't you make an app for that?"

"Are you making fun of my livelihood? Is my passion nothing but a witty joke to you?" He teased as he pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"I'm just saying. Get that team of engineers on the phone right now and tell them that I demand a water-proof app to protect my phone from your pesky shenanigans."

"Your wish is always my command, Ace."

As she got up to start packing her belongings, he ordered a room service breakfast and turned the television on to CNN. "It's still baffles me every time I see you one of these shows. Not surprised, but it's like my own personal game of "Where's Rory?" to see which one you will end up on any given day."

"I need to get me a red and white stripped hat and some hipster glasses if I'm going to compete with Waldo."

"I'm serious, Ace. It's super impressive. I'm so proud of you."

"Well, it pays the bills."

"And gives you major street cred. I bet soon you're able to land any interview you want."

"That's the plan, especially with Barbara Walters and Diane Sawyer cutting back. My boss says I'm selling a product; that each TV appearance helps me get my stories read and my book in the hands of new readers. But I don't know. I feel like a sellout sometimes."

"Well, if you're a sellout, at least you're a cute sellout." He stood from the bed and began tucking in wrinkled shirt. "Hey, I've got an idea. Want to make a bet with me?"

"I don't know, Huntzberger. That's pretty risky. You have been known to participate in some pretty risky bets. Recall the time you almost died? Oh, and I seem to remember a guy who once broke his finger rolling cheese."

"Hey, I seem to remember you participating in one of those risky stunts a time or two."

"You jump, I jump, Jack." She said with a knowing smile.

He beamed fondly at the remembrance. "Well, this bet's a little less risky. I challenge you, one Rory Gilmore, Star Reporter to slip a shout out to me in your next panel discussions."

"And just how do you expect me to do that? 'Why yes, Wolf Blitzer, I do believe Ebola poses an economic threat for America and by the way, I'd like to give a shout out to my buddy Logan!"

"Ouch, 'buddy?' Is that what I am to you?" He smirked and imitated a dagger going into his heart.

She threw one of her rolled and previously packed socks at him. "Do you really want to have that discussion five minutes before I leave, mister?"

With a playful spark in his eyes, he walked over to where she stood at her suitcase and wrapped his arms around her from behind as she continued to organize her clothes. "I'm not kidding. I want a shout out. Let's come up with a code word, and next time you are on air, you have to slip it in, no matter the topic."

"A code word?"

"Yes, something unique so I'll know it's for me."

"And what distinctive code word do you suggest?" she asked, amused.

"Hmm. Let me think on it, and I'll tell you before you get on the plane. Leave a little mystery to it."

After they ate breakfast and packed Rory's things in the trunk of the car service vehicle, Logan climbed into the back seat with Rory and stroked her hand that fit so comfortably in his. After a few minutes, Logan broke the silence.

"So, this is how you pay me back."

"What do you mean?"

"This must be how you felt every time I left you to go to London." When she sadly nodded at him, he continued. "Not knowing when I'd be back, or how things would work, or what the end game was. That must have sucked."

"Well, it wasn't a day at Magic Mountain."

"When do you come back? The New York visits, are they regular or on schedule? Do they just call you and say "Hey, we need you on 'Nightline' tonight?"

"Logan—"

"I'm not trying to be the emotional equivalent Kim Kardashian to your Kayne West with the clingy questions, but how do I know when I am going to see you again? Or even if you want to?"

"Logan, I don't know right now. I don't really even know what all has happened in the past 30 something hours."

"41 hours."

"41 hours." She wrapped her free hand around both of his. "Why don't we take a little time and decompress and really think about what we are doing here."

Breaking the serious moment, he couldn't help but smirk. "What you really mean is that you need time to do a pro/con list."

"Hey!" she playfully batted his shoulder. "Those still have yet to let me down."

Sadness overcame her as the driver pulled the car next to her terminal entrance. She was usually so anxious to get back to D.C. as fast as she could, but this time, she was overcome with the desire to stay just a bit longer.

As the driver got her bags out of the car, Logan wrapped his arms around her for their final goodbye.

"I'm beyond grateful that this happened, Logan."

"Ace, you have no idea." He began kissing her fervently and powerfully, as if trying to express everything he felt for her in a single action. Suddenly, he pulled back from her.

Grasping her shoulders, he boldly stated. "I have a plan."

"Logan, I don't want to 'do' plans right now. We both need to think this out like rational, non-impulsive adults." Her eyes narrowed. "Non-impulsive, Logan."

"I know that, but here's what we are going to do. I know you need time to think and analyze and plan. But I don't. I'm shooting straight here, Ace. I don't know how this will all work with D.C. and New York and our families and our past and all the other snags. I'm in when and if you are." He kissed her forehead. "I was the idiot who walked away like a pouty spoiled schoolboy when I didn't get my way. I'm not going to do that this time. The ball is truly in your court."

He continued, gesturing his hands for emphasis. "My bet is still on. Your next network appearance has to include a personal message to me. If you've thought about this and you think that somehow, someway we can make this work, you'll throw the phrase "profoundly optimistic" somewhere in the conversation. Cause that's what I am. It's like I told you at Tiffany's. I'm deeply and profoundly grateful for all of this. I'm profoundly optimistic about you. About us."

He paused for a moment. "But….if you decide this was just an amazing weekend to put a final stitch in the fabric of what we once were, you'll throw me a 'case closed.' And I will still be deeply grateful for the last 41 hours. How does that sound?"

She couldn't help but admire his youthful enthusiasm for this grand plan. While this could come across as wildly unprofessional, she was unable to say no to the hopeful and expectant man that stood before her. Challenge accepted.

"Sounds like you'll find out on TV."

Rory closed her laptop with satisfaction. Somehow, despite the cloud of confusion that filled her head, she had filed her stories and had organized her schedule for the week. As she leaned back against her desk chair and looked out to the people taking Sunday afternoon strolls and riding their bikes leisurely, she allowed her mind to wander to what she and Logan would be doing on the bright and sunny Fall day had he been here with her. Her mind began to dance around the different scenarios and outcomes of the lovely yet terrifying predicament she found herself in. She took out her notepad from her briefcase to begin making the pro/con list, just as he predicted she would, when her cell phone began ringing.

She inhaled deeply before she slid the acceptance notification on her phone. "Hey, Mom."

"'Hey Mom' she says. I'm not sure I even have a daughter. My offspring would never promise to call me when she vacated the big ole city. I almost thought I 'd have to call your buddy Barry Obama to send out some of his Secret Service guys to look for you."

"Well, he offered, but then there was that whole, 'being president' thing that got in the way."

"I suppose we'll let him slide then. So how was your flight home yesterday? You been submitting your stories for the week?"

"Well….I actually got in this morning."

"You decided to spend an extra night in the city? April didn't convince you to go to one of those Science Club traveling dinner things, again, did she? I told you, you can take her when she suggests those things. She may be taller, but you're faster."

Rory subconsciously started twisting her new necklace. "Actually, Mom. I got home this morning. A few hours ago, actually." She paused. "Something incredibly…..interesting and surprising happened Friday evening."

"Aw, hun. Nothing good comes from sentences that start that way. Is this a "Mommy, brace yourself with coffee and pop tarts" or do I need to go pop open the liquor cabinet for some gin and some beer nuts?"

"I'd probably go with a pop tart/gin combo."

"I'm invested. Spill, kid."

"Well, I ended up staying in the city to have dinner with Logan."

"Excuse me. I'm pretty sure there's some serious static on your phone. I thought you said Logan. Please start over."

"Told ya to have that gin and pop tart ready."

And with that, Rory started at the beginning, detailing her weekend, sparing no detail. From the broken shoe in the rain to the visit to Tiffany's and capping it off with the ride to the airport and Logan completely exposing his feelings.

"My God, Rory. Are you secretly living in "General Hospital"?"

"I haven't had coffee with Luke Spencer since college, Mom."

"Proud mom for the reference." Rory heard her mom sigh on the other end of the phone. "What's the pro/con list say?"

"Why does everything think I have to do a pro/con list?"

"Well, have you?"

"Not exactly." Rory stared at the notebook where she'd written Logan Pro/Con across the top. She apparently was too transparent for her own good.

"Wow, kid. Well, you have a good excuse for not letting me know you weren't dead."

"Thanks for the exemption."

"What are you going to do?"

"I honestly don't know. Getting over him was so tough. Saying no was the right thing to do at the time, and I don't regret my life."

"And you shouldn't. Everyone is so proud of you. Your grandparents learned how to use their DVR just so they could watch you on TV. There's a single TV devoted to you in their living room. Dad trots out the remote during his business dinners."

"I wouldn't be in D.C. I wouldn't have gone to Thailand. I wouldn't have met my friends in my book club or worked at Time, and—"

"Stop. You don't know any of that. Who knows how things would have worked out? There are too many what-ifs that don't matter."

"But they do matter!"

"No, they don't. The world tends to put us where we are supposed to be at the right time, kid, despite the past. Just ask Rosie. No one thought she'd go back to The View….but right place, right time."

"So you are saying I should give this a chance? Do a long distance relationship in my 30's?"

"No….."

"So I shouldn't give it a chance and just let this weekend be this weekend?"

"No….chill, Rory. What I'm saying is….take some time, and think about things. Really think about what your life is now and if it will better or worse without him in it. You'll know what to do. And worse case scenario, you can pull a Julia Roberts ala "Eat, Pray, Love" and pasta-your way through it." She paused. "Uh, Rory, I'm gonna need to go. I'm pretty sure your brother's outside being chased by Paprika again."

"Babette's new cat?"

"The very one. Sorry, huh. Gotta run. Keep me posted."

Upon hanging up with her mother, she saw that a new email from her boss had hit her inbox.

Be ready to satellite in to Money Matters tomorrow morning at 10:00. They want a color report on Moscow's trade impact. Jon will have you set up in the media room by 9:30, and a follow up article will be needed for the web.

She wasn't going to have much time to make her decision, as she would be on national television in 12 hours. She began pulling her research from her last Russian reports to begin her article, but she continued staring at her pro/con sheet.

It was going to be a long night.

Rory stood in front of the mirror in the media room as Jon began setting up the space for their satellite shoots. Her company was just another department for the Time Warner Corporation, and she was used to being called in for quick CNN pieces in her home office. She switched between fixing her suit jacket and brushing her bangs aside mindless, as her thoughts were anywhere but on the topic she was about to discuss.

"If you aren't careful, you're going to pull your bangs out." Jon said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Ha. Yeah. That'd be bad. Bang-less Gilmore. New nickname." She nervously shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just going to step out side for a moment."

"You nervous, Rory?" He looked at her with suspicion. He'd been working with her for years now; she had these live shots under control in her sleep.

"Nope. Not me. Be right back."

She slipped to the hallway and broke out her phone. She frantically pulled up his contact information.

I'm about to take your bet in front of the whole world on CNN's Money Maters.

She quickly hit send and pulled the phone up to her chest with her eyes closed. This was it. She felt her phone vibrate and looked down.

I never thought my life's happiness would be dependent on an episode of a financial talk show, Ace. You continue to amuse me.

She quickly typed her reply, closed her phone and headed into the media room.

I just think it's important for you to find a TV in about three minutes.

"And now, let's go live to Washington D.C. to Time Senior Foreign Correspondent and News Editor Rory Gilmore. Rory, thank you for joining us today."

Rory starred straight into the camera and could see the in Lydia Kelley anchoring in New York in the peripheral camera next to Jon. "Thanks for having me Lydia."

"Rory, you've done extensive world travel during your tenure, with Russia being one of your latest excursions. What are your thoughts on the current economic state?"

Suddenly, Rory's nerves were gone and she slipped in to a topic she was comfortable with, pulling out statistics and figures on revenue and income and the climbing costs of living in Moscow. Lydia asked her a few additional questions regarding the current leadership and past political events, and before Rory knew it, the five minutes were up and Lydia was asking her the final question.

"Finally, Rory. Based on your experience, where do you believe Russia can improve when it comes to the financial climate?"

Rory looked directly into the camera and smiled. "Lydia, I think that Russia as well as other financial systems often have to weigh the risks vs. benefits and do a real check and balance analysis….a pro/con list…if you will to determine the next direction they are going to go. And as for Russia, I am deeply and profoundly optimistic to their future."

And as Lydia signed Rory off, she felt the buzz of a text message in her pocket.

Let's do this, Ace.