Chapter 4: The Woes of Technology

I know I said I would take a break, but UPS has yet to deliver my copy of Final Fantasy XV, so I decided to pass the time writing instead. Enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think! - Allie

"I'll kill him." Luke paced from the stove to the table and back again.

"He's in London." Rory said carefully.

"I'll fly to England, then I'll kill him."

Luke's usually quiet rage turned out to be quite loud if the circumstances were right. Rory had just gently broken the news of being pregnant to Luke – if it's possible to gently drop a bomb on somebody.

"Luke, that's...sweet...but like I told Rory, this wasn't a one-sided operation." Lorelai placed her hand on Luke's shoulder. She could tell he was seething. Rory was basically his daughter. Even when Lorelai and he had been apart, even when she had married somebody else, Luke still looked after Rory like he was his own flesh and blood.

"Seriously, you're defending this guy?" Luke replied, walking to the back door and throwing the fresh pan of scrambled eggs out into the trash bins. Rory smiled thankfully.

"No, I'm just saying they're both adults and the blame is 50/50 in this." Lorelai retorted.

"I'm right here, guys." Rory smelled her orange juice tentatively and gagged. Nope.

"I've gotta run, the building inspection is today and they charge extra if I'm late. " Lorelai kissed Rory on the forehead and headed towards the door. With Emily's help, and Luke's blessing, Lorelai was able to put in an offer on the old folks' home she had been eyeing to expand the inn. They had accepted and now all that was left was to make sure the place wasn't riddled with termites or bathed in lead paint.

"I won't bail you out!" She called towards Luke, winking, as she rounded the corner out of sight.

"Hash browns? You want hash browns?" Luke snapped his fingers and turned to Rory awkwardly.

"I think hash browns are safe. Yeah."

After a few minutes of silence, Rory finally spoke. She had been dying to ask Luke's opinion on something, and now seemed like the best time.

"Hey Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"When you found out about April..." She began. Luke turned and pursed his lips.

"You're gonna ask me if I think not telling Logan is an option. About how I felt when Anna hid the fact that I had a daughter from me?" He said, turning back to scoop the fried potato onto a plate.

"And here I thought mom was the only mind reader in the family," Rory said nervously as Luke slid the plate in front of her and took a seat opposite. She sniffed the plate, waited, then happily dug in.

"I don't...like to talk about it, if I'm being honest. I'm kind of embarrassed that, I don't know, somehow I didn't just know. I know it sounds nuts." Luke muttered. Rory listened as she chewed.

"Good?" He asked.

"Mmmhmm."

Luke smiled.

"What I will say is this: when April found me, and had to tell me that I was her father, well...that was obviously a huge shock. But it also didn't feel very good. I know that she knows that I had no idea she existed," Luke swallowed. "But it was like all of a sudden I was this huge jerk for not taking care of my kid all those years. Missing the birthdays, the science fairs, not teaching her how to ride a bike. All of that, all at once." Luke shifted uncomfortable in his chair. "But, it's your decision, Rory, and you know I'll always be on Team Rory, no matter what." He patted her hand awkwardly, and got up to tend to the dirty pots and pans.

A warm and fuzzy feeling welled up in Rory's chest. This was as close to bearing his soul as Luke got, and his advice gave her just the perspective she needed to figure out what to do next.

"I know, Luke. Thanks."

An odd mix of rain and snow had started outside. Cars rushing past the apartment made a soggy, slushing sound. Logan stared down at the street, remembering Thanksgivings in the states where there had been two feet of snow on the ground. He rubbed his right cheekbone, where Odette had – deservedly – slapped him before leaving. Logan didn't know where she went, but by six in the morning, men and a truck had shown up and started loading up her things.

"I guess it's good she didn't unpack." He said humorlessly to himself.

By seven, the truck was just pulling out of view.

By eight, Mitchum had called six times and left three voice mails. Logan didn't need to listen to them to know what he had in store for him. He turned off his phone, not wanting to deal with the fallout for a little while longer.

What the fuck do I do now?

What he wanted to do – which was to show up on Rory Gilmore's doorstep, sweep her up in his arms and confess how much he still loves her – was off the table. He had been so sure that something was sparking between them again, especially the last time he saw her. Sure, they had that silly agreement, but that was strictly sex and friendship. When they were in that tango club in New Hampshire, he was sure that he heard something in Rory's voice, saw something in her eyes that indicated that she still had feelings for him too. The way she looked at him when she asked him if he was really going to marry Odette...

And the cowardly, cop-out answer he gave her.

Logan kicked the foot of the sofa.

Hey, it's me. Can we talk?

"Okay, you can do this. It's just a text. That's all." Rory had already typed out the message. Hitting send was the hard part.

"Ahhhh..." She groaned as she looked her bedside clock. It was nine in the morning here, so it was about two in the afternoon in London.

"Come on Gilmore. Suck it up." She said aloud.

Rory stared at her phone for another ten seconds and, somehow, managed to hit send before she could talk herself out of it again. A lump formed in her stomach instantly, but there was no going back now. All she could do now is wait.

And wait she did.

An hour passed, no response. In an attempt to not be a crazy stalker, Rory decided to leave it be a little while longer. She showered, picked up around the house, did two loads of laundry and had lunch.

At eleven-thirty-five, she broke.

Logan, it's me again. Can you text me back?

Send.

Twelve-fifteen, no response. She typed out an addendum and sent it off.

Or call.

It was now one-thirty and Rory's text messages to Logan had gone from tentative, to pleading, to just plain passive-aggressive.

Please, it's important. I really need you to get back to me.

I realize you're very busy, but I'm sure you can spare five minutes.

So you're just going to ignore me? Unbelievable.

"What a jerk!" Rory stamped her foot. She'd run out of things to do around the house, and there was no way she could write anything good in her current mental state. Fine, if he wanted to play it that way, she'd just have to pull out the big guns.

Three minutes later, she snapped the photo, attached it to the message and hit send. She didn't bother attaching any text – this picture was worth a thousand words all by itself.

Logan shuffled through his iPod for the millionth time. Nothing seemed to be able to relax him.

The overhead seat belt sign lit up, and a female voice said something over the loudspeaker. The plane creaked a bit as it passed through some turbulence.

Logan picked up his iPad, his finger hovering over his email inbox. Thinking better of it, he turned the device off and stowed it away.

This was going to be a long flight.

"Anything to drink, sir?" The attendant stopped next to his seat in first class. Logan popped out an earbud.

"I'd love a whiskey, neat, please. Whatever you have is fine." Only about an hour left in the air, followed by thirty minutes in a cab. He knew that he needed some liquid courage to do what he planned to do once he arrived in Stars Hollow.