Just when I thought I couldn't get any busier, I did. So sorry for neglecting you, my darling reviewers (and my readers too, but I'm slightly less upset about neglecting you lot :P). Ah, I kid, I kid. I love you all the same! Thanks for reading :)
"Please tell me you're not in Logan's bed."
Rory sat bolt upright, nearly dropping the phone out of her hands.
"What? Why would I -" She glanced around quickly, double checking, and breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Mark's familiar furniture around her.
"Of course I'm not," she snapped into her phone, feeling like Gillian had probably known that, and was just trying to get a rise out of her. Snorted laughter on the other end of the conversation confirmed her suspicions.
"Well, then, where did you and he storm off to?"
"We just talked. Outside. And then I went to Mark's."
"Just talked?"
Rory settled back into her pillow, glancing surreptitiously at Mark's lanky form, face-first into the mattress. Deciding this conversation was probably best had out of earshot, regardless of how asleep he was, she kicked the covers off of herself and padded out to the kitchen.
"Yes, Gillian, just talked."
"You're lying!" Gillian cackled in a tone Rory wouldn't have labelled gleeful if she weren't certain Gillian was completely and utterly insane.
"How could you possibly tell that from this conversation?" Rory snapped. Gillian understood her irritated tone. Rory was hardly the picture of sunshine in the morning, especially pre-coffee.
"Oh, my dear. Go make yourself a cuppa. Meet me for lunch today and we can talk about it? I can explain to you how windows work, if you'd like." Gillian hung up without waiting for a reply, leaving Rory slack-jawed by the counter, fumbling for a coherent retort.
Fuming the slightest bit, and fighting the foggy confusion made ever worse by her decaffienated morning state, Rory forgot that Mark was still sleeping. She slammed a cupboard door after pulling out her mug, flipping open the jar of coffee grounds with perhaps more vehemence than was called for. It didn't take long for Mark to shuffle out of the bedroom, wry smile crinkling his heavy-lidded eyes.
"Stub your toe again, Ror?"
Rory let out the deep breath the had been holding, slowly lowering the teaspoon in her hand to avoid dropping it.
"No. Sorry. Did I wake you up?" She was blushing furiously, and if it weren't for her years of practised composure as a journalist, she'd be a stammering mess.
God, I'd make a terrible spy, she thought as she stiffened when Mark leaned in for a kiss.
"Are we going to talk about last night?" Mark's tone was light, but it was evident that he was worried.
Rory swallowed the lump in her throat, and instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, fingers gripping the sides of her borrowed t-shirt.
"I saw my ex at the bar with Gillian last night," She stared fixedly at the floor as she spoke, fighting to keep her tone even.
"Saw?" Mark's mind was working fast. "Saw as in, went to meet, or saw as in, ran into?"
Rory huffed, looking up briefly before returning her eyes to a whorl in the wood floor. "Saw as in ran into, Mark."
The relief in Mark's sigh was almost palpable.
"You poor thing. Don't say another word. I get why you're so upset." He laughed sharply, the kind of laugh that was really more of a bark.
Rory looked up again, confused, almost bewildered by his statement. He got it? She was that obvious? She squeezed her eyes shut. Please oh please oh please don't be upset, she found herself thinking. Of course he'd be upset. He had just deduced that she and her ex had -
"You too saw each other and started fighting. I get it." Mark wasn't done talking yet. "Wow, Ror. You still hate him that much after this long? Exes are complete crap. Don't worry about it, babe. It was just a chance encounter, put it behind you."
Rory's brow furrowed. Mark thought that her and Logan had argued. He thought she had been so upset because they had gotten into a fight about their feelings, or break-up, or whatever.
Oh God, Rory realized. Explaining the truth just got forty times worse.