Story: Another Round

Chapter Title: Stare at the Ceiling

Summary: Rogan. Future fic. There's a new arrangement between the two.

He could feel his heartbeat increase, just like it used to when his father had caught him in the midst of some scheme or breaking some rule when he was a little boy; the familiar heat in his palms, the whirlwind of logical excuses and explanations making him dizzy. He watched as Lorelai, the namesake and life-giver of the woman he loved, leaned the brunt of her weight against the closed door and eyed him knowingly.

"So, Logan," she began.

"Look, Lorelai," he raised his eyes up to meet hers, despite his slightly lowered head. He could feel his hesitant breath as it hit the back of his teeth. It was all that was coming up into his mouth, as words completely escaped him.

"You know, I thought your name sounded really familiar when Mom told me you were on your way," she held up her hand to prohibit him from attempting to interrupt her again. "But it wasn't until I saw the way my daughter looked at you when you arrived that I put two and two together."

All at once, the thoughts that might have formed into explanations and assurances left his mind, traveling south with all the blood in his brain. A rush that intense had to have been visible externally—surely she had just witnessed the first occasion on which he had gone stark white in the face.

"Two and two?" he asked diffidently, frowning out of sheer confusion, not just trying to play it up. Whatever she'd decided in her mind was going on was obviously fully formed. At least he knew where Rory got that particular habit from. Her ability to drive her heels in once she had the 'assumed' truth in her head was astounding.

"She's leaving her job, isn't she?" the tears welled up in her eyes as she questioned him, and he realized she wasn't blocking the door so much as allowing it to hold her up. Weren't there men in their lives that were willing to be pillars of strength in hard life moments like this? He wondered if Lorelai had a man that was longing to be in her life like he was hoping to be in Rory's.

"I mean, you're obviously acquiring her company, that's why she's been so off-kilter since you showed up. I haven't seen her this jumpy, well, in a long time; since she was in college."

He couldn't lie to her; especially when telling her the truth about her daughter would not out his own adulterous activities in her life. Perhaps he could use an ally, one that could help convince her to stay on at the paper, thus making it easier to persuade her to leave her current life behind and give him the shot he was prepared to take.

"I did," he let out a breath, feeling his body regulate as his assessment of the situation was finally able to register with his nervous system.

"I knew it, I knew she was hiding more than she was telling me," she mumbled under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get into family business," he took a step closer to her, his hand outstretched toward her.

"No, no," she shook her head, wiping away non-existent tears from her eyes. "I know that you don't know Rory," she took a deep breath, "but surely you know that she can't give up her dreams. She's too good, right? I mean, otherwise you wouldn't have said those things," she probed.

"I've never encountered anyone with her abilities," he agreed, keeping the explanation vague on purpose.

"This is all because of him. I knew I should have pressed her harder not to get married, but there's only so much a mother can say," she began to confide in him. "You have to convince her to stay."

"I'm trying, believe me," he assured her. "She's fairly set in her decision."

"It is not her decision," Lorelai bit back. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so—it's not directed at you."

"It's okay, it's clear you're upset. I didn't mean to," he began.

"I'm glad you were here. You have got to help me," she reached out and grabbed his warm hand, the one he could still practically feel the indentations that had formed when he'd wound Rory's hair around his fingers tightly just moments before. "Please, say you won't stop until she agrees to keep her job. If she loses that, she won't ever leave," she confided in him.

"What if she doesn't want to leave?" he asked softly, the idea occurring to him as if for the first time. She'd been so willing to be with him, never offering admissions of love for her husband, never making it sound like she would stay if she didn't have to.

Lorelai's face contorted painfully. "Do you know him?"

"No," he admitted, shaking his head.

"Well, let's just say the adage 'she could do better' is the understatement of the century. He doesn't deserve her," she shook her head and took a deep breath. "I should get out there. Isn't there anything you can do, cite contractual obligations or some other legal mumbo-jumbo, to get her to stay on, even if just a while more?"

He smiled at her choice of wording, even though the words contractual obligation just made him think of Rory's predicament with her husband. Did Lorelai know all the paperwork that bound her daughter to this man? Surely not, if she thought there were outs to be had. At least, easy ones.

"I'll talk to my lawyers; see what I can come up with. You should go, be with your father. My own should be here soon, I'll be back on my way to New York," he lied, though the idea of having time to himself to let new information sink in long enough to figure out the best way to forge ahead was appealing. He would not leave Rory.

Lorelai nodded and let go of his hand. "Thank you," she whispered before opening the door, leaving him alone again, waiting.

XXXX

His eyes followed the decorative line of the crown molding, though he had to keep blinking when his eyes blurred the handcrafted lines out of focus in attempt to bring back clarity. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his eyes kept failing him.

He'd heard tell of the universe speaking to you at first in a whisper when you had a lesson to learn. If you ignore it, supposedly it tries a normal tone of voice. If you turn your ear even upon its yelling, it invites calamity and disaster, until you finally learn your lesson. He just didn't know if this was the whispering or the calamity. He pondered if a whisper could be disastrous.

"Logan?" she asked softly, afraid of waking him.

As his heart broke at the sound of her voice, he knew.

"I'm awake," he sat up, blinking his eyes a few more times so as not to view her in the blurry, half-sedated state. He didn't want to mistake this for a dream.

"I know it's late. I stayed 'til he fell asleep again," she said, kicking off her shoes as she crawled up next to him on the bed. She situated herself so that her arm was bent back behind her head, which she placed nestled up against his own as he settled back against the pillows again.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, her voice falling back down to a whisper. He didn't move to touch her; rather, he resumed his prior activities as he allowed his eyes to unfocus without fighting to correct his vision this time.

"I was trying to think," he began slowly, "but that didn't turn out to be so fruitful."

"So, you're just lying here, staring off into space?"

"That would probably be more awe-inspiring than the ceiling," he announced, but didn't turn his head to look out the window.

"I'm sorry that you got dragged into this, none of this was," she began, and he could feel her nervousness growing as he failed to look in her direction.

"None of this was your doing," he assured her. "Just, lay here with me, let's not talk, okay?"

Her silence was his answer, and he reached his hand down to grab hold of hers, squeezing it reassuringly. He wasn't out to punish her; he just needed the quiet and peace of mind that came with her presence.

He turned his head to take her in after several minutes of stillness, the only motion in the room other than the ticking of the grandfather clock in the suite's main hall being his gently stroking of her palm with his thumb and their even breathing.

"What's it going to take?"

"Excuse me?" she turned her head to face him as well.

"To get you out, what's it going to take?"

"Logan, I thought we weren't going to talk," she tried to be playful, smiling at him despite the fear in her eyes.

"Rory, I'm serious. I can have my lawyer go over the arrangements, I'm sure he can find some loophole," he began, but she drew her hand out of his and pressed two fingers to his lips.

"I don't know. I've accepted this as what is going to happen, Logan, I can't suddenly have answers once you start talking about lawyers and," she stopped, the word that was about to roll off her tongue too irreversible to be uttered.

"And what?" he stroked her cheek now with his free hand.

"Us," she let go, biting her lip to keep it from wavering.

He wrapped his hand around her neck, pulling her head to his. He rolled up onto his side, pressing his weight into her, letting her feel the impact of her last word as he'd felt it. He wanted to be around her, inside of her, consuming her; her doubt, her trepidation, her exhilaration, her grief. He kissed her until he could feel her sobbing underneath him, the events of this weekend too much to hold off any longer. If she had been hiding the monstrosity that had become her personal life from her mother, she probably hadn't wanted her to witness her breaking down in concern over her grandfather either.

He refused to pull back, holding tighter as she gripped his arms with her hands, making futile attempts to even her breath. He told spoke softly, reassuringly into her ear about how she deserved to have someone there for her at times like these, how he was honored to be that man; promising that she didn't have to be alone anymore.

"Do your really think it's worth it?" she asked when she found her voice at last.

"If you're really going to let me help, I'm really going to fight this tooth and nail," he assured her, "But you are going to have to trust me and do what I ask."

She looked at him, wide-eyed and at the ready. "Where do we start?" she sniffed.

"First, you need to go home," he fought to keep his eyes trained on hers, not wanting to let himself envision her leaving his side to be subjected to the lack of tenderness and attention that she needed now more than ever, "and tell him that you aren't leaving your job yet."

"But, I," she began, ready at the set-off with excuses and justifications, put in her head no doubt by her husband.

"I need to be able to see you, to plan and run things by you, and working together will get us that time," he licked his lips, at the ready to argue this out with her. He had to be prepared to go to battle, starting with her uncertainty.

"Okay. I'll do it," she complied tiredly, resting her head on his shoulder in defeat. He placed a kiss against her forehead, willing her to rest now and let him carry the burden of finding a way out. Now he had two Gilmore women counting on him, and more importantly, trusting him.

He held her until she fell asleep, and he resumed his staring up to the heavens, doing his damnedest not to think about the morning coming about and the moment that he'd have to watch her go her separate way. He just hoped her path would converge back with his much sooner this time around.