Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes *cough*Chad*cough*. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, on organic chemistry.

AN: Oops, this story got left behind in the updating rampage, sorry. Thank you to FairyGirl03, abercrombiegirl786, finnlover, heavenleigh88, Lady Lisa, rish, LoVe23, rawrrry, ilovebuttfacemiscreants and BeautifulBlackRose.

Chapter 4

Flash. He was standing in the middle of a busy New York street, people bustled around him, his body buffeted as they pushed and shoved to get past him. Taxis honked, their drivers swearing at him, waving their hands at him, but he couldn't hear what they were saying.

"What?" he called out, straining to catch what they were saying, "I can't hear you!"

He turned around and suddenly the bustling city gave way to a hauntingly empty desert, the sun scorching on his back, with a groan he looked up at the endless blue sky. Frowning he stepped forward, the sand beneath his polished leather shoes gave way easily and he stumbled. Climbing back to his feet, he brushed the sand off his Armani suit. In the distance he could see a bus, a yellow school bus, he had never been on a yellow school bus and he felt a desperate desire to go on one now. He ran toward the bus, tripping, sliding, and stumbling up and over the sand dunes. Crack! White-hot pain blinded him and his body jerked to one side, blinking to clear his vision the brilliant white gave way to pitch black.

"Ahh, pretty boy's awake," the gruff voice seemed disembodied and he turned his head, trying to locate the source only to have his vision spin again.

"He looks like he's going to throw up," he heard a second voice mutter, "I don't want him throwing up on my shoes."

"If you're so worried about your damn shoes, why don't you leave?" the second voice replied, irritably, "Go keep the girl company, we both know you want to."

Footsteps approached then receded again followed by a door banging closed. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound behind his back, his feet too were tied together. Something was pressed against his mouth as well, preventing him from yelling.

"Yeah, you ain't going anywhere," the first voice laughed, as he tested the binding.

A phone rang, nothing special, an ordinary monophonic ring tone.

"Boss?" the first voice answered the phone, "Will do… Nah, he's awake now, wiggling like a caterpillar on Prozac… Yep… Yeah, I'll tell him."

The phone was snapped shut, footsteps approached him quickly and he felt himself pulled roughly to his feet. His captor was an average looking guy, brown hair, day-old stubble, tall, burly.

"Come on, pretty boy," he hissed, bringing his face to close to identify any features, his breath smelt strongly of cigarettes.

He was dragged out of the room and down a dimly lit corridor. He tried to wrestle free of his captor's hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" the burly man asked rhetorically, "Don't you wanna see ya girlfriend? Or should I say, fiance?"

He saw red then, thrashing furiously against the other man, desperately trying to get free of him. All he could think of was how dare they touch his fiance? What had they done to her? Oh God, Rory, please be okay.

He was thrown into another room, the door slammed harshly behind him, but he didn't hear it. His entire focus was on the young woman slumped in the corner. She looked up suddenly and rushed to his side.

"Oh, Logan, I'm so sorry," she whispered, she helped him to sit on the cold concrete floor.

She removed the tape covering his mouth and undid the binding on his ankles and wrists before sitting back. Tucking a long blonde strand of hair behind her ear, she stared at him, her emerald green eyes filled with anguish and guilt.

"Where's Rory?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

--

The laptop screen blurred in front of Rory's eyes, wearily she rubbed them and started rereading the article all over again. At her insistence, Harry had allowed her to continue working, she needed something to occupy her time. Tristan was constantly coming and going, appearing at the apartment at all hours of the day and night. He spoke little to her and when she did ask whether they had made any progress in their search for Logan, his answers were always vague and non-committal. The police detectives were equally unhelpful, without many leads or any pressure from anyone but Rory to find Logan, she got the feeling that they were losing motivation.

She had left three more messages on her mother's answering machine, all of which had remained unanswered. She tried Lorelai's mobile phone, only to be told that she was out of range. Picking up the phone, Rory pressed the digits for her mother's phone number again, but hit cancel at the last second and dialled a different number instead.

"Gilmore residence," a young female voice answered after the third ring.

"Hello, I was wondering if I could talk to Emily Gilmore?" Rory asked.

"No, I'm sorry, Mrs Gilmore is not available at the moment, can I take a message?"

"Uh no, what about Richard Gilmore?"

"Yes, Mr Gilmore is available, do you wish to speak to him?"

Rory took a breath before answering.

"Yes, I would," she replied.

"May I tell him who's calling?"

"His granddaughter," she said quietly.

There was a pause and Rory could only imagine the look on her grandfather's face as the maid informed him just who was calling for him.

"Rory?" the voice of Richard Gilmore was filled with muted surprise.

"Hey, grandpa," her heart filling with warmth just hearing her grandfather's voice.

"We haven't heard from you in a while."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Is something wrong?" Richard asked, the waver in Rory's voice was hard to ignore.

"Mum's not returning any of my calls and I don't know what to do," Rory said tears prickled her eyes and she blinked furiously.

"Rory, your mother is on her honeymoon," Richard sighed heavily, not wanting to be the one who had to break the news to his granddaughter.

"What?"

"We tried to contact you, Emily left a message with Logan. Lorelai and Luke got married a week ago, they're in the Maldives."

"Logan's missing," Rory whispered, unable to hold back her tears any longer.

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