.

All right, here we go...! The date of this is April 17th, 2011. I won't slow you down with a lot of AN chat, just jump in and get reading, 'cause this is a LONG one---it had to be: it all takes place during the same day. Oh, and, enjoy the mood swings. I did. X)

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Rory was a little frustrated by maternity leave. She was Rory, she needed to work---all she was doing was sitting here and getting fat and watching Ellen and Cool Hand Luke and the Cosby show; couldn't she just submit articles until the baby came? Seriously, how hard was it to sit here on the couch and type, huh? They couldn't just let her do that?

And Logan. That annoying little snit. He was sucking up, that's what he was doing. He was always there, asking her if she needed anything, bringing her something to drink or eat or read, doing crap like fluffing her pillows---I'm sorry, where did that come from? Twerpy little brown-noser.

"Hey, Ace," she heard, and there he was in the doorway. "You good in there? You need anything?"

See? Like that. Freak of nature. "No, hon."

"All right, well, I was gonna get something to drink anyway, lemme freshen that for ya." He came into the room, took her glass of iced tea, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Well wasn't that sweet? He didn't have to do that. My God, here she was with the kindest most loving caring guy who ever lived, and what had she done to deserve it? Huh? What? Great, now she needed a tissue---and Logan had brought her the box an hour ago, it was on the coffee table. Perfect. No, he was perfect, and she was horrible and crappy and undeserving. Sweet, perfect Logan. God, she loved him. He was so beautiful! Weren't there any more tissues? Where were the tissues for the people that needed the tissues?

The patient one heard the new round of sobbing coming from the living room. He came back in with a glass full of fresh ice and the iced tea pitcher. "What's the matter, Ace."

Rory blew her undeserving nose and dropped the tissue in the wastebasket---and would you look at that, Logan had put it there for her. "Nothing, it's nothing."

Logan was fine with that. He understood that. He'd spent the past couple of weeks now in the thick of that, and it was either come to terms with it, or jump out the window. He'd done the whole 'jumping' thing once. The 'chute didn't open. Not the kind of thing you want to repeat.

"You know I'm here if something's bothering you," he reminded her, on the off chance that the sobbing had nothing to do with world hunger or genocide or Keisha Knight-Pulliam.

Rory nodded, her sobbing trickling off into hiccuppy little snuffles. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all of this," she told him.

"Aw, Rory, look at me." Logan sat down on the edge of the couch. "I don't mind. I have no problem dealing with any of this---'cause frankly, you're the one cooking the kid in there, which scientifically was my fault in the first place. If anybody should deal with this it's me. I'm happy to do it."

She was in a very emotionally fragile place right now, so all of that sounded like...like...well, it sounded good. "Really?"

"Promise."

"Awwww, I love you," she gushed, throwing her arms around his neck.

Logan just laughed---there were some things that he could tell she meant even though they were brought on by severe hormonal imbalances and the cruelty of womankind. "I love you too Ace."

He held her for a second, content with the fact that she was content and wasn't biting his head off, but when her breathing hitched and he heard an "Ow" from over his shoulder, he moved back in an instant.

"What, what's wrong?"

Rory looked as shocked as if somebody'd just slapped her. She was holding her stomach now. "Ow," she repeated, once more, with feeling.

Quickly Logan did the math in his head...found out the beginning of August....one, two three four five six seven eight nine.... Oh, crap.

He was off the couch, Rory's hand was in his, he helped her up, started toward the door. Just like that. "Okay, just relax, I'm gonna get you to the hospital." He grabbed the bag by the door---and, as a guy, he had no clue what good the bag was gonna do, but she'd said the book said bring a bag, so....

"It's...now?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what that is, yeah."

Rory winced. "Mom..."

"Yep, all signs point to 'you're about to be one.'"

"My mom..."

"We'll call her, we'll call her," he promised, and shut the door behind them.

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"...Okay, so, it looks like the nature hike begins at three, so you've got a few hours to kill..."

"We really wanted to go antiquing in the meantime."

"Oh, well super, we're lousy with antiques here. Why don't you try Kim's Antiques? It's just off the square, you can't miss it, just go---"

"Lorelai...!"

Lorelai stopped mid-schpiel, wanting to strangle the pleasantry-faking French-accented voice she'd just heard. She turned her head, and sure enough, he was standing there in the doorway of the Dragonfly's library, where she was, with that smug look all over his face. Being a nuisance just made his day. "Uh, would you excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Todopolous? I just have a...thing...over here...be right back."

Lorelai flashed them a polite smile before striding over past His Annoyingness and toward the reception desk. He followed, naturally. "What, Michel?"

Michel stayed as detatched and mildly amused as ever. "I just thought you would like to know that you just got a phone call. Personally I could not care any less than I do at this moment, but my job description demands that I play Benson to you people, therefore I am delivering your message."

Lorelai was in focusing mode now, totally at Michel's mercy, which he'd probably gloat about later, by the way. It was zero hour, here---any phone call could be it. "What message, who was it, was it Rory?"

The Frenchman looked up and to the side as if he were actually thinking about it. "No," he replied, looking back at Lorelai---

"Oh, good."

"--it was a boy, he sounded vaguely familiar, I couldn't pick him out of a lineup. He sounded rather frantic, so I assumed it was urgent, though he wasn't having hysterics if that is any indication for you."

"Oh, wow. Oh, boy."

"Yes, a boy, that is what I said, my God, you are slow today."

She didn't have time for this. "Michel, that's Logan---Rory's probably in labor. What did he say, where are they? Does he have his phone? Are they there now? Did they call Luke?"

"Relax," Michel droned, not so much in a comforting way but to get her to stop talking. "He was only good for the headlines, I got most of the details, though I did not ask for them." He took a sticky note from the desk and read off the contents. "They were on their way to the New York Presbyterian hospital, left ten minutes ago, should be there in another ten, something about seven minutes apart.... I'm assuming that yes, he had his cell phone with him, either that or his telepathy has drastically improved, I do not know if they have contacted the flannel man, and now you owe me my ten in addition to my lunch break."

Handing her the sticky note with a tight little smile and a pleasant "Good luck," Michel walked off to God knows where, and Lorelai whipped out her phone and pressed '4.'

"Hi. You're on your way? So am I. Yeah; I just have to get Luke. We'll be there. Bye."

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"Oh, hiya, doll," Babette greeted as soon as Lorelai came tearing into the diner. She and Morey had Will in a high chair at the table with them. "I hope it's okay, we figured while we were watchin' him for ya we'd bring the little tiger in to see his papa. Plus, Morey doesn't really cook, try as he might, God bless 'im---"

"Yeah yeah, Babette, it's fine. Luke! Luke!"

"What's the matter sugar?"

Distracted, Lorelai barely turned from her post at the counter. "Can you keep him overnight, Babette? You know where I keep the key, his stuff's all in his diaper bag in the foyer, Paul Anka should be fed but if he gets hungry the stuff's under the sink.... Luke!"

"Well, sure, honey, I---"

Luke came out from the back room then, and once he saw her he made a beeline straight for Lorelai. "What, what's going on?"

"It's Rory, she's in labor."

Luke's eyes went wide. "What? Rory's---"

She nodded. "I just got off the phone with Logan. They're at New York Presbyterian."

Immediately Luke went for his keys. "Kitchen's closed!" he yelled, startling eveybody in the place. "Last one out lock up!"

"Rory's havin' her baby? My God!" Babette hollered.

"Your Jeep or the truck?"

"The truck, the truck, Gypsy's got the Jeep." Luke was already out the door, and Lorelai was on his heels. She stopped at the table to drop a kiss on top of Will's head, and then she was on her way. "Bye hon, mommy'll be back! Thanks Babette!"

"No problem, sugar!" Babette called after her. When they were gone, she turned to Morey. "You take the li'l slugger back to our place, okay babe? I gotta find Patty."

Morey's reaction was to stab contentedly at his waffles. "Okay."

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"Rory? Rory! Come on, where are you---Rory!"

Luke wanted to be there just as much as she did, but even he was having trouble keeping up with Lorelai. "Stop that, you sound like you're off your meds."

"I'm trying to find my daughter!"

"Well you're not gonna find her by yelling her name in every hallway. She's probably in some room somewhere."

"Well how would you suggest doing it then?"

"Did asking somebody ever occur to you?"

"They won't know where she is if it's not their floor."

"Did you call Logan?"

"He won't pick up, they could kick him out, it's a hospital!"

"Well there's got to be something better than---"

"Lorelai!"

Both of them turned, and a familiar blonde was coming at them from down the hall---not Logan, but the other Huntzberger they didn't want to kill. And the list ended there.

Lorelai met her with a quick hug and a panicky version of the 'mom' face. "Honor, I didn't think you'd be coming!"

"And miss being an aunt? He wishes," she replied with an eye-roll, referring to her brother. "Come on, they're the next hall over."

"Ah, bless you."

"Okay, I guess that would be one way to do it," Luke muttered, trailing behind Honor and Lorelai.

They followed the big boxy hallway around a corner and past a bunch more rooms that they couldn't have cared any less about, and then Honor stopped and pointed to Room 108. "They're in there, and I'm gonna go get some coffee, so just go on in."

"Thanks, Honor." Lorelai was already through the door, and Luke caught it and slipped in behind her.

"Mom!" It was one of those waiting-to-be-ready-to-deliver rooms, and Rory was in the bed, Logan in the chair on the left of it.

"You guys made good time."

"Yeah, well, Luke ran over an old lady getting here," Lorelai cracked.

"I did not."

"You're right. I'm kidding. I hope." Lorelai pulled up one of those little metal chairs they had in there and parked herself next to the bed on the other side. "So, fill me in, how goes it, mommy?"

"It's going okay," Rory admitted. "I mean, the whole 'excruciating pain' thing really sucks---" She still hadn't let go of Logan's hand yet, and she was kind of pale to back it up, "---but in between that I'm really okay. And you were right, the ice chips are completely useless."

"Ah ha, you pelt anyone yet?"

"I'm saving that for the really big ones."

"How long ya got, did they say?"

Luke sensed that a mother-daughter moment of privacy was forthcoming, and nobody understood the Lorelai-Rory bond better than he did. "Hey, Logan, why don't you and I go help your sister with the coffee?"

Logan caught on, but he stood up reluctantly. "You gonna be okay Ace?"

"Yeah, go, go."

"Okay, but I'm just gonna be down the hall, so if you need me I can be right back."

"Yeah yeah, we get it, Marvin Gaye, ain't no mountain high enough. Go ahead, I've got her," Lorelai assured.

Logan smiled, and gave Rory a kiss on the forehead. "Back in a bit."

Luke took him by the shoulder once they were headed for the door. "Okay, walk fast and don't look at anybody." He still hated hospitals.

Once the boys were gone, Rory went back to her mother's question from before. "I'm only at about five right now, so she said it could be another few hours. Of course, she said that about the chick across the hall, too, and she just got wheeled outta there like ten minutes ago, so, how should I know."

Lorelai smiled, patting her daughters hand. "So...you ready to do this? After today, you're in the mom club from here on out, kid."

Rory smiled too, and she almost answered, except that it hit her like a sack of potatoes. The smile plummeted about as fast as her stomach, and suddenly the whole room seemed very, very small. "N...no!"

Lorelai must have missed the starting shot or something. "Rory?"

"No! I'm not ready to be a mom!" It was full-on, shaky-voiced, big-picture freak-out time here. "No mom club! No soccer practice! No carpool! I can't do that!"

"Whoa, hey, relax---this is your kid we're talking about; it won't have any athletic capabilities."

"Do not try to lighten the mood!"

"Sorry."

"I mean...I'm going to spend eighteen years raising somebody, who's gonna depend on me and need me to feed it and clothe it and not screw it up to the point where it needs psychoanalysis! I don't know how to do that! I can't be having a baby! I'm not a mother!"

"Well hon, it's a little late---what are you gonna do, have 'em put it back?"

"You are a mother, I am not a mother. You know what to do to get it to sleep, you know how to do whatever it takes to make sure it has everything it needs, you know how to...take a...I don't know, a sock or something, and make it into a game that can get it to stop crying...."

"Whoa, whoa whoa, Rory, Rory, listen to me," Lorelai interrupted. Rory cut off the rant and managed to look at her mother. "This is crazy, okay? You've been studying this stuff for nine months now; you know how to do everything backwards and forwards! The sock thing, I can show you. The sleep thing...well, there's no one way for that, but you'll get it. And the doing whatever it takes thing? I know that you are gonna do whatever it takes to make sure this baby has everything. You are a fantastic, kid, Rory, and I know you're gonna be a fantastic mom. There has never been anything you've tried that you haven't conquered. Plus, you've got Logan, remember Logan, he's here for you and he's gonna be a great dad. And Luke, and your grandparents, and the whole town...and you've always, always, got me. You've got so much more support than I ever had, kid; you've got the ability to do this on your own and you'll never even have to. You'll do so much better that I ever could."

Rory was starting to calm down now. She glanced down at the scratchy wool blanket, then back up at Lorelai, and blue eyes met blue eyes with more feeling than the English language could even convey. "Nobody could ever do it better than you," she said quietly.

A gentle smile came over Lorelai's face. "Well. Then you've got a lot to live up to, don't you."

"I guess I do." A long pause. "Thanks mom."

Lorelai leaned toward her daughter and wrapped her in a hug. "You're ready, kid," she whispered, and something in her could have sworn she was talking to them both.

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For possibly the first time in recorded history, Lorelai was showing no urge to even touch her coffee. She and Luke were standing outside of Room 108, it had been three hours, Honor was in the parking lot with a cigarette making phone calls, and Rory was in there with Logan, still waiting.

"Hey," Luke said quietly.

Lorelai looked up. "Yeah?"

"You doin' okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she sighed. "I'm just nervous."

Luke smiled then, and held an arm out to her. "C'mere." Lorelai let him hold her. "If it makes you feel any better I'm almost as much of a wreck as you are," he supplied.

"Yeah? It kind of does."

She barely got the chance to smile back up at him when a shrill voice cut its demands through the building. "I am Emily Gilmore, and if you don't tell me exactly where my granddaughter is at exactly this minute, I'll sue this hack hospital for every penny it's worth and the closest thing you'll have to a job will be handing out sandwiches at the Y.M.C.A!"

Luke and Lorelai traded that 'uh-oh' look. "I'm...gonna go check on Will," Luke decided, pulling out his cell phone and heading for the parking lot.

"Uh, yeah, good idea." Lorelai tore in the direction of the voice---which, by the way, was now 'requesting' to "speak to your supervisor"---and two corners, a desk and a ticked-off receptionist later, she found it.

"Mom!"

Emily turned. "There you are, Lorelai. Don't you answer your phone anymore?"

"It's a hospital, mom, they interfere with the equipment."

"Honestly, Lorelai, you don't think I know that? I'm a grown woman, I've been in a hospital before."

"But---you just said---"

"Where's Rory?"

Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown. "They're in 108, it's over there. Where's dad?"

"Oh, your father spotted one of those archaic newspaper dispensers on the way in, he's trying to get it to work. Apparently it ate his change and wouldn't give him a paper." Emily had that look on again, like, 'how can I possibly be expected to deal with all the things I do in such a patient manner, yet somehow I do anyway.' It must be fun in delusion-world. "So, did we miss anything? How is she? I swear, if I miss one more urgent phone call because of Constance Betterton and her insufferable doubles' tennis which she insists on playing at the club even though there's a perfectly good court on her property, God knows what I'll do."

Yes, because tennis was the problem here, not the barking at receptionists or feeling entitled to the innerworkings of a hospital; those were just footnotes. "Logan's sister Honor is here, she was in the city so she beat us by like half an hour; Luke is here but he's checking on the sitter; Logan's in there with Rory and I think Colin and Finn are on their way to help run errands, but, y'know, that could just be folklore."

"Who are they?" Emily wanted to know.

"Logan and Rory's friends, mom."

Nothing but a blank stare.

"The Life & Death Brigade? You've met them like five times."

The stare.

"They were in the wedding?"

Still nothing.

"You know what, forget it." Lorelai took a deep breath to prevent from killing anybody before she continued. "Anyway, Sookie knows, Michel knows, and Babette knows so I'm assuming the rest of Stars Hollow knows, plus we're here, and April and Paris and Lane the rest of North America send their love. I think she's covered, mom."

"What about Christopher?"

Ah. Leave it to Emily to go there. "We called him; it went to voicemail but I'm sure he'll show up when he gets it."

That seemed to satisfy her for now; or leastwise, it had to, because the conversation was thankfully brought to a halt when Logan appeared beside them. "Emily, hi," was his distracted greeting.

Lorelai actually did a double-take when she saw him standing there, and she took a good look at him. It was harder to see five-'o-clock shadow when it was blonde, but either way, it was way past five-'o-clock; he was at more like 10 p.m. by now. The poor kid had dark circles under his eyes that should have had 'Original Smiths Album $8.99' stamped on them, and he seemed to have completely lost the ability to stand still without fidgeting. He looked like he was about to crash if the dealer didn't make good on the product.

Lorelai sensed that the 'mom' thing was going to be needed in more than one place today. "Good, mom, why don't you go see Rory; I'll point the way to dad when he gets here," she suggested.

Emily gave one precise nod. "All right---Room 108, you said?" She enunciated the numbers specifically.

"Yep; it's right around that corner."

Once the Joan Crawford of Connecticut was safely down the hall, Lorelai turned to the kid with a knowing half-smirk. "So how ya holdin' up?"

Logan just kind of shrugged halfway, and kept looking around the hallway.

"Logan." Lorelai waved, and she spoke just a little louder this time. "Hi. Logan! I'm clearin' the runway over here."

"What?" He finally snapped to attention, then seemed to realize he'd been in space for the last thirty seconds. "Oh, God, sorry. Yeah." Lorelai waited for him to crack that smirk he usually did, or offer some kind of unneccesary explanation, but he didn't do either. Okay, Logan's not here right now, please leave a message after the spaz-out.

Yeah, it was talk time. Lorelai grabbed Logan's sleeve and led him to the side of the hallway where gurneys and doctors and crap weren't whisking by. "Hey, Michael J. Fox, what's with the zombie-ness, huh?"

Nine months, nine months of takeout and craving-runs and spackling and painting and cribs and books and blue or yellow, yes or no, and being patient and picking up curtains and being the calm one, nine months of that, and Logan was cracked. "I, uh...I think I'm freaking out."

"Yeah, no kidding." Lorelai just smiled and shook her head---she was all prepared to have the same talk she'd had with Rory, more or less---after all, if there was ever a day for it... "Look, I know it seems like this big impossible thing right now, but trust me, Logan, you'll make a great dad."

"Huh?" It took him a minute, but he got where she was going. "Oh, no, that's...no, Lorelai, I'm ready for that. The whole four-'o-clock feeding, stroller, pediatrician, daycare thing, I'm not worried about that. I know Rory can handle it and I'm gonna be the best dad I know how to be."

"Oh." Well. That took Lorelai back a second. She was expecting a full-on Jack Butler meltdown, so it was a releif not to deal with that, but... "So then, what's with the panic?"

"I guess...getting there. I don't know what I'm doing in there, Lorelai, and Rory's in this Final Destination kind of pain and I can't do anything, and I'm gonna be in there with her. What if something goes wrong? I---"

"Wow."

"I know, it's stupid."

"No, no, it's not stupid." The way Lorelai said that made Logan actually stand still and look at her. "You are something, you know that?"

"...Something like...'run Forrest run' kind of something?"

"No. Something as in, you've been so helpful all this time, you're about to be a dad and instead of freaking out about that, all you can think about is Rory and the baby being okay. In fact I think it's safe to say I have never been more impressed by you than I am right now."

Logan didn't quite know how to take that. "Wow...thank you."

"We're all worried," Lorelai assured him, "but no more than would be normal for this kind of thing. Everything's going to go just fine, and when you get in there they'll talk you through it, you'll see, and before you know it it's over, and the little thing's here. And hey," she added more quietly, and Logan looked right at her again. "You are not your dad."

Finally Logan smiled---he knew what she meant by that and how much she meant it. "Thank you, Lorelai," he said, just as quietly.

"Yeah, well, I'm a human sedative today. Come on, we gotta hug it out, it's in the manual I think."

He laughed, and there was just time for a quick hug before Luke showed up, having just gotten back from the parking lot. "Guys! It's time; they're taking Rory right now!"

They traded an alarmed look. "What?"

"Yeah, now!"

Without another word, all three of them ran---yes, Lorelai actually ran---back to Room 108. Emily was there too, and Richard had found his way up, but given the circumstances they saved the round of greetings for another time. Two nurses were in the middle of turning the temp bed into a gurney.

"Ace!" Logan made his way to his rightful place in the hand-crushing vicinity.

"Owww, ow ow ow ow ow ow ow OW!" Rory cried. Logan stroked her hair back, but he couldn't do much else, other than let her squeeze the life out of his hand to the point where it would never be useful ever ever again.

The nurses were probably the only calm ones there. "Another contraction?" she said in a nasally voice.

"No, huh-uh, I'm just rehearsing a play! You should hear me do Macbeth!"

"Gee, where have I seen this before. Like mother like daughter." Emily muttered.

"Just breathe, Ace."

"Hey, here's an idea: why don't we switch? I'll do the breathing and you do the pushing a canteloupe out of your body, okay?! Anybody else like that plan?"

"Actually I'd kind of like to see that," Lorelai tried, ever the mood-lightener. Judging by the glares from Rory, Emily, Luke and the nurses, it didn't work much. "Right. Bad time."

The nurses were prepping to roll now, and everybody else but Logan filed to the back; Lorelai, Emily, Luke and Richard, more or less clumped in that order. The whole procession started into the hallway and wheeled toward the big room, and one of the nurses spoke up with: "Almost there, honey."

"Oh; that's a comforting thought! I'm almost out of this sucky, crappy pain, just not yet! That still counts, right?! Hey, while I'm reenacting Alien in there why don't we strap you on one of those medeival torture racks and just go to town, huh? I think that might help!"

"No, I don't think so."

"Why am I never wearing the proper shoes for this?" Richard complained from the back.

"Or waterlogging! Yeah! Big fun there! Or hey, can I kick you? That'd do the trick!"

"No, you can not kick me."

"Then there better be one of those giant punching bags in there because I really need to do something!"

"Whoa, it's like watching a crystal ball to the past," Lorelai whispered.

Luckily, one thing was different from twenty-six years ago: this Lorelai wasn't going in alone. "I'm right here Ace, breathe, I'm right here, I gotcha."

They were at the big doors now, and the second nurse barked, "I need everybody but the father to stop here!"

The venomous sarcasm was gone from her now, and Rory reached back, grabbed Lorelai's hand for just the briefest second, and then they were pushing her through the doors. "Mom...!"

Lorelai knew what she meant. "I love you too, kid."

"Good luck!" Luke added.

Emily nodded, and even though the doors were already closed, she called, "We'll be here when you're done!" Richard was too busy shoe-obsessing to chime in, but at least he was there. They all were. That was enough.

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"It's a girl." That's what Logan had told everybody when he'd come out of the delivery room three hours ago, exhausted, grinning ear-to-ear, in the scrubs and everything, and they'd all five stood up and looked at him like the sole good-news bearer on the planet. "It's a girl." Rory was still trying to wrap her head around that, even now, as she was alone--for the most part---in her hospital room, holding the tiny little pink baby in her arms. She had a girl. A little, baby girl. It was a girl.

"Hi," she whispered softly. The jury was out on whether the baby could understand any of this yet---she'd read a lot of books, and they all seemed to tell her something different---but Rory knew that at the very least, it would know its mother's voice. "Hi baby. I'm your mom. I'm your Lorelai. Yeah, that's right. I'm your Lorelai."

People always read about or hear about how, when you have a baby, you love them so much from the second you see them that everything else seems...small. Rory knew how true that was now. She hadn't been able to stop smiling that soft smile at her baby girl since they'd handed her to her.

"Hey. It's nice to finally be out of there, isn't it? I mean, I know I never like it when I have to get up in the morning, so I can understand if it's not what you expected. But it's nice to see you. You're here. And trust me, we've been waiting for you a long time. Just ask...well, everybody. You know, once you've got that whole 'talking' thing down. There's your daddy, he's amazing, you'll like him; and there's your Grampa Luke, who's kind of like a Werther's: hard on the outside, soft on the inside, you know. And your Gramma Lorelai, she's the coolest. I know you'll love her. Everybody does. We've all been waiting for you to get here, yeah, we have. But...don't grow up too fast, okay? And I promise, no matter what the big guy with the bowtie says, you don't have to go to Yale if you don't want to."

The baby yawned a tiny little yawn, and Rory smiled all the wider. "You're sleepy, huh? Yeah, mommy's kinda sleepy too. It's been a long day for everybody." Rory was just about to press the call button for a nurse to come put the baby down so they could both get some rest, but just then she saw Logan walking right past the door to her room.

"Huh. I guess your daddy's back from Uncle Colin and Uncle Finn." She craned her neck to try and see where he was going---come to think of it, it looked like he saw somebody.

.

Logan was on his way back from Colin and Finn. They'd showed up two-and-a-half-hours after the baby was born---thank Manhattan traffic, according to Colin---with a standing offer to take care of anything that needed doing that the family didn't want to leave to do. They were quirky, but they were decent guys and good friends, and he'd sent them with the keys to their apartment and a list of stuff to bring back with them. Chances are there'd be balloons and some kind of floral arrangement involved too, that is, after Finn hit on every passing nurse on their way out.

He'd been on his way back to visit Rory and the baby, but something had stopped him. Something tall and sinister, and it was waiting for him at the end of the hall.

Logan went right past the door. He stopped in front of him. "Dad."

Mitchum wasn't here as the proud grandfather he should have been. He was too busy being this generation's Straub, unaware that his son wasn't interested in playing Christopher. "Congratulations, Logan."

"So that's what this is?" Logan wouldn't buy it, and he gave his father a pained look, knowing it wasn't true. "That's really all you came to say to me?"

"No, it's not all I came to say to you," Mitchum growled, his voice low but harsh. "If you wanted to play around with that nameless job and that miniscule apartment before, that was fine, then, Logan, but what are you going to do now, huh? I am never not disappointed in you anymore."

"You know, I don't think that's ever gonna change, is it? So why don't you take your opinions back to some terrified colleague who wants to hear it."

"Don't you give me that!" Mitchum boomed all of a sudden, loud for all to hear. "If you choose not to grow up and accept responsibility---

"They're trying to sleep in there!"

"---then THAT'S not my problem, but you are NOT going to raise this child in the city! You'll get a decent house outside Manhattan, you'll get a nanny, you'll get a maid, you'll get a REAL job."

"I HAVE a real job," Logan roared back, and the floors shook like rolling thunder. "And who are you to come in here and tell me how to live MY life, how to raise MY daughter?"

"I'm your FATHER, that's who!"

"Yeah, it's unfortunate, isn't it."

"Don't backtalk me, son, I've lived a lot longer than you, I know what it's like in the real world."

"I'm twenty-nine, dad! I'm an adult now! You see those two in the room there? That's MY wife and kid. You have no say in this---"

"I have all the say in this I want to have."

"---and if you can just accept that and be happy for me for once in your sorry elitist life, then fine, I'm right here. But you will NOT walk in here and tell me what I will and won't do. This is up to me and Rory and the list ends there, so keep your houses, keep your maids, and don't you come into this hospital and ruin this day for me! That's how it is, and unless you can accept that just stay away and SHUT UP!"

Mitchum stood there for just a moment longer, seething, neck red, eyes cold. He didn't know what to make of his authority being challenged by his own son, not to this degree, and he didn't want to know. Finally, he turned without a word, black trench coat swishing behind him, and stalked away toward the elevator.

.

Drained in all ways possible, really starting to understand the genetic Gilmore need for coffee, Logan walked into the room. "Hey," he said quietly, and he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Rory had heard everything. The Germans had probably heard everything. She knew how he had to be feeling right now, or at least she had a mental picture of it, and it wasn't looking good. "So...that was your dad."

Logan exhaled. "Yeah."

"Loud."

"Yeah."

"Are you...okay? I want to thank you...for...everything you said to him. About us. About the baby."

He shrugged; it wasn't like his dad had ever really cared. He wasn't like him. "Yeah, I'm okay. I don't want you to worry about that, or him, or anything he said. None of it matters." He took a deep breath, since he hadn't in about ten minutes, and then said, "Hey. Did I tell you how proud I am of you today?" The grin was starting to come back to his face. "You did great in there, Ace."

Rory smiled back at him. "I love you, Logan." Everything she needed was right here. Somehow the look in her eyes made that known, so much better than words would have.

Both their eyes fell on the little sleeper in Rory's arms. Logan was the first one to break the silence. "So, what are we gonna call this little girl, huh?"

Rory looked up at him, and he looked back. "I think I finally got it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

She looked at the baby, and she tried the name on, and it fit, just like that. "Lorelai Emily Huntzberger."

Logan smiled. "I like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I have a feeling so will everybody else."

"We'll call her 'Ellie' for short."

"I like that too."

"You're easy to please, aren't you?"

"It doesn't take much today." Logan moved closer, and he kissed her, and Mitchum couldn't do anything about that either. When he finally stood up, it was reluctantly. "Get some sleep, Ace, you deserve it."

"Where are you going?"

The smirk was back. "I figured I'd go tell the sheep that the wolf is gone."

"Yeah. Good plan."

"You want me to take her?"

"Yes please."

.

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WHEW, was that a LOT to write! (And, again, if somebody else out there thought that Ellie would be a good name for their daughter, I'm sorry, I am NOT stealing anybody's work, it's a common idea.) This took me FOREVER so PLEASE, PLEASE, review, and I'd love to hear something more than "good chapter more please," like, for instance, WHAT you liked, your favorite part, etc. THANK YOU to those of you who've already been doing that; it's eternally appreciated. Off to work on the next chapter, review review review! 3

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