A/N: So, I had the first part of this written for a few weeks. And then I came back to it and it got massively long. So...this is DEFINITELY worth the wait. Like, 12 single-spaced pages worth :D

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Wet wipes? That's seriously our first act as the head of student government? Gellar and Gilmore, changing Chilton one sticky desk at a time. It's ridiculous."

Rory watched Paris pace back and forth. "It does have a ring to it."

Paris shook her head. "People shouldn't be eating in classrooms. We have lunch period for a reason. You eat then."

Rory vividly remembered Paris eating grapes in their classroom the week before, but decided to keep quiet.

"This school is becoming a breeding ground for tomorrow's bumbling heathens," Paris continued. "Do you know just yesterday Hannah Tripplehorn asked what a modifier was in English? It took everything in me not to tell her she was a complete idiot right then and there."

"Right."

"So, I told her after class."

"You actually told her she was a complete idiot?"

"It was for her benefit," Paris sniffed. "Now she'll know to go straight to the service industry first when she graduates. I saved her years of subsequent failure and embarrassment."

"I'm sure that's how she views it," Rory said dryly.

"I don't believe in coddling," Paris said. "I was never coddled. Why should I coddle others?"

"Yeah, people could call you a lot of things, but a coddler isn't one of them."

Paris nodded resolutely, continuing to pace back and forth. She frowned suddenly, her pacing coming to a halt. She glanced over at Rory and said, "Do you think we could pass legislation barring food in the classrooms? Stop the stickiness in its tracks?"

"We could try."

"We have to," Paris said. "It's our duty as elected officials. I'll start work on the proposal."

Paris strode out of the classroom, seemingly off to draft the proposal, and Rory muttered, "We really are changing Chilton one sticky desk at a time."

It was a slow day at the Independence Inn. The rush of people from the Sweet Corn Festival had ended, and the inn was experiencing the usual post-event-lull. The phone rang and Michel picked it up, his tone detached as always when he said, "Independence Inn, this is Michel speaking."

Lorelai was sorting some mail that really should have been looked through days ago when Michel handed her the phone.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Your mother."

Lorelai hesitated, considering making up an excuse, but she knew Emily would call her out on it Friday, and she could do without unnecessary tongue lashings.

"Hi Mom," she said, wedging the phone between her chin and shoulder as she continued rifling through the mail.

"Do you typically make people wait that long on the line."

"No, actually, I usually make them wait longer. It really builds the suspense."

Lorelai could practically see Emily purse her lips into a frown. "Is everything a joke to you?"

"Only my life," Lorelai returned. "How can I help you, Mom?"

"What are your plans for this weekend?"

Lorelai's eyes lingered on a bill and she set it to the side for later. "I think I'm free. Why?"

"Your father and I are going to a charity event and we bought an entire table because we thought the Harrisons would be in town. It turns out that they will be in Martha's Vineyard. Now, why anyone would go to Martha's Vineyard at this time of year is beyond me-"

"I'm assuming there's a point to this," Lorelai interrupted. "Mind finding your way to it? I'm at work and-"

"Far be it for me to ramble," Emily said. "It's, of course, something you've never been guilty of."

Lorelai exhaled sharply. "What do you need, Mom?"

"I need you and Rory to come to the event," Emily said. "Otherwise our table will not be complete and everyone will read too much into it."

"You don't want to have the unpopular table, huh?"

"Lorelai, just tell me if you and Rory can come."

"We will be there," Lorelai said slowly. "Now, are we coordinating our outfits? Matching letterman jackets, maybe?"

"Meet us at the Wicker country club at seven," Emily said, ignoring Lorelai's later comments. "And don't be late."

"We won't. We'll be a cool five minutes early even."

"Alright, we will see you girls Friday."

"Yes you will," Lorelai said, wishing more than anything that it weren't true. "Bye."

"Bye Lorelai."

"So, I hope you don't have plans for this weekend," Lorelai told Rory when she walked into the house. Rory took off her backpack and put it on the table, giving Lorelai a confused look as she asked, "Why?"

"Your grandparents have claimed you."

"They claimed me?" Rory asked, still confused.

"But never fear," Lorelai continued. "Because they claimed me, too."

"What have we been claimed for?"

"Some charity event," Lorelai said. "A few people pulled out of their table last minute, and you know what an unfilled table means."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, neither do I," Lorelai said. "But it shouldn't be that bad. All the people there like to be in bed by ten and the food's usually pretty decent."

Rory opened up the cabinet and pulled out a box of poptarts. She held the box out in question toward Lorelai and her mom said, "Do you even need to ask?"

Rory pulled out one of the tinfoil pouches and tossed it toward Lorelai. She caught it in surprise, eyes wide, and said, "Geez, you could have taken my head off!"

"With poptarts?"

"You of all people should know how slow Gilmore reflexes are," Lorelai said. "Now I'm going to have to eat an entire poptart just to calm down."

That night Rory called Logan for their nightly phone call. After a little bout of chit chat she asked him, "So, any chance you're being dragged to a society gathering this weekend?"

"Not that I know of," he said "Why?"

"My grandparents are having us go to something with them," Rory said, examining her cuticles. "They had extra space at their table."

"Ah, so you're seat fillers," Logan said knowingly. "My parents had rooked me into being that a few times."

"Seat fillers," Rory said, sitting up in her bed. "That's really what we've been reduced to?"

"Society is a rough word, Ace."

"You can say that again."

"How about I take you out after?" Logan suggested. "I can be your light at the end of the seemingly never ending tunnel."

Rory grinned. "I'd like that. Let's go somewhere fun. With coffee. And donuts."

"Your wish is my command, Ace."

"You want me to bring you back any salmon puffs?" Rory teased. "I can stuff a few in my purse."

He laughed. "As much as I love a good salmon puff, I think I'll pass."

"Okay, that just means moe salmon puffs for me."

"Yeah, Ace, I don't really know if that's a thing to be happy about."

She grinned. "Alright, I'm going to head to bed. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You bet. Night, Ace."

Rory sat on the back of the bus, going through her book in her usual seclusion on the way to Chilton. She stiffened when she felt someone settled beside her. Occasionally she'd been chatted up on the bus, and it always made her uncomfortable. Not wanting to be rude, she'd usually hold a stilted conversation, unintentionally keeping the intruder there longer than she wanted. She relaxed when she saw it was Jess.

"A biography," he said, glancing at the book's cover. "Now, that is surprising."

"Why's that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. You don't seem like the biography type. I picture you more as a J.D. Salinger. Ayn Rand, maybe."

She grinned, closing her book. "I read those, too. This is just a biography week."

"You categorize your weeks?"

"I like to switch off," Rory explained. "Last week I read a novel. This week, it's a biography."

"What if you feel like a novel during a biography week?" he asked with a straight face. "Does your entire system collapse?"

She gave him a look and said, "No, the entire system doesn't collapse. If I want to read a novel, then I read a novel."

"What a novel approach," he said dryly, lightening it with a slight upturn of his lips. "Anyway, don't let me interrupt your biography time. I brought one, too."

He lifted his hips up slightly and pulled a worn book from his back pocket. She glanced at the cover and nodded appreciatively.

"That's one of my favorite books," she noted.

"Howl?"

"I think I've read it four times. Maybe more."

"It's great," he agreed. "It's the second go for me." He pulled a pen out of his pocket. "Meaning it's time for me to mark up the pages." He pulled the cap off with his teeth, and she shook her head with a slight smile, returning to her book.

Lorleai walked into the Independence Inn kitchen to find Sookie standing in front of a counter of produce, body stock still as she stared wordlessly at the heap of vegetables.

"Uh, Sookie? Everything okay?"

"No," Sookie said petulantly, her eyes not leaving the counter. "Everything is not okay. Everything is definitely not okay."

Lorelai went to her side, thinking that something had happened with Jackson. Their fights had been known to render Sookie listless and borderline-neurotic in the kitchen. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"I'm tapped out," Sookie said, voice dejected. "I'm completely tapped out."

"What do you mean?"

Sookie turned toward her. "Do you see this produce?"

Lorelai nodded, wondering where this was going. "Yes. I see the produce."

"Do you really see it?" Sookie pressed, gesturing widely toward the expanse of food.

"Yes, Sookie, I see the produce."

"See this squash?" Sookei said, picking one up. "It's perfect! The size is just right and the coloring is perfect."

"Okay," Lorelai said uneasily. "You have a perfect squash."

"And then this broccoli," Sookie continued, voice cracking. "I've never seen more beautiful broccoli in my life. In my entire life!"

Lorelai laid a hand on Sookie's arm, wondering what in the world had happened to make her chef seemingly break. "Okay, you have perfect squash and beautiful broccoli. I don't really see the problem."

"That is exactly the problem!" Sookie railed. "I have perfect squash and beautiful broccoli, and I have absolutely no idea what to do with it."

"That can't be true."

"Oh, it is!" Sookie said. "I have stood here for an hour, just staring at the produce, and my mind is completely blank. I have no idea what to do."

"How about that broccoli soup you make? People like that."

"I don't want to make broccoli soup!" Sookie said, shaking her head. "Broccoli soup is boring. Everyone makes broccoli soup! I need new ideas! I need inspiration!"

"What can I do?" Lorelai asked. "Do you need coffee? A donut?"

Sookie sniffed, wiping her nose on the side of her chef jacket. "I guess a donut wouldn't hurt."

"Alright," Lorelai said, all-business as she walked over to the side of the kitchen and grabbed one of the blueberry donuts that Sookie had made herself the prior day. She handed it over to Sookie and watched her take a bite.

"Damn these are good," Sookie said with a full mouth.

"Yes, they are. And it's because you made them," Lorelai said. "You are an amazing chef, Sookie. One of the best. I have no doubt that you will come up with something amazing to do with that food."

"Risotto," Sookie said suddenly, tongue darting out to catch an errant crumb at the edge of her mouth. "Butternut squash with that truffle cheese we got in last week. Oh, and thyme! I think…" she stepped forward and pushed aside a few winter squashes. "…thyme! There's thyme!"

Lorelai grinned. "See, I knew you'd come up with something."

Sookie giggled happily, piling squash and Spanish onions in her arms before waddling over to the stove.

"Sook, you want any help?" Lorelai asked, wincing when an onion dropped.

"No, I'm fine." Sookie glanced over her shoulder with a wide grin. "I'm perfectly fine!"

Rory walked up to her locker, grinning when she stepped beside Logan. He seemed to have taken a permanent residence to it lately and she quipped, "Do you go to classes anymore, or do you just spend all your time next to my locker?"

"I have the lectures sent to my phone," he answered in turn. "That way I can learn and keep your locker company."

"How resourceful of you."

"So, any chance you can get out of Friday dinner tonight?"

She pushed her books onto the top shelf of her locker and glanced over at him. "Probably not. My grandparents are pretty strict with us being there. My mom tried to get out by saying she was sick once, and my grandma asked for the number of her doctor."

"Sometimes the intensity of your grandparents scares me."

"You're preaching to the choir. So, what's going on?"

"The boys are coming in for the weekend," Logan said. "I know you have the charity thing on Saturday, so I thought we could do something tonight."

"No such luck. How about something tomorrow during the day?"

"Colin and Finn don't come out during the day when they visit," Logan said, making it sound like it was completely natural for two people to not come out during the day. "Out all night. In all day. That sort of thing."

"You make it sound so normal," Rory said, shaking her head.

Logan shrugged. "For them it sort of is."

"How do they get anything done?" she asked, closing her locker.

"That's the key, Ace. They don't."

"Hm, I wonder what that must be like. Just not caring," she mused.

"It's pretty great," Logan piped in, slipping an arm around her waist as they walked. "A lot less stressful."

She laughed. "I bet." They stopped outside of her classroom and she gave him a quick kiss. "Alright, tell the boys I say hello."

"I will. Have fun in class."

She grinned and returned, "Have fun next to my locker."

That night, Rory very much wished that she were with Logan and the boys than at the dining room table at the elder Gilmore house, sitting through another one of Emily and Lorelai's tense exchanges. She almost had to admire them for their ability to have a conversation in which nothing overtly offensive was said, but the underlying tension was enough to set ones teeth on edge.

"I was at the development meeting at Chilton this afternoon," Emily said, taking a dainty bite of her meal. "Very interesting information."

"Development meeting?" Lorelai asked.

"Yes, they mentioned it in the newsletter last week." Emily set down her fork and folded her hands in front of her plate. "You did read the newsletter, didn't you Lorelai?"

"Of course, I did," Lorelai said. "I just didn't read it with excruciating detail."

"Noting a meeting is hardly reading it with excruciating detail. It's a newsletter, Lorelai. The point of it is to deliver news."

"I couldn't have gone, anyway," Lorelai said. "I was swamped with meetings at the Inn. So…there."

Emily's lips curled into something eerily like a smirk. "Well, then it's a good thing I was able to stop by. One of has to be kept abreast of the goings on at Chilton. Isn't that right, Lorelai?"

Lorelai stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork and said, "Yep."

"Rory," Richard boomed, blessedly ending the prior conversation. "That was fine work on your article last week."

"Thanks Grandpa."

"And above the fold, too. You're really coming into your own. What are you working on for the next issue?"

"I'm interviewing the classes' favorite teacher Mr. Medina. Each year they have a poll and the students vote."

"And you were chosen to write it?" Emily asked excitedly.

"Well, it was more assigned to me."

"Assigned to you," Emily said with a wide grin. "They must think highly of you to assign such a big story."

"Well, it's not that big…"

"Nonsense," Richard said. "You should be very proud of yourself, Rory."

"You hear that. Be proud of yourself, kid," Lorelai said.

"You can tell our friends about your writing tomorrow at the charity event," Emily said. "I'm sure they'd love to hear all about it."

"In detail," Lorelai chimed in. "And with visuals, if possible."

"I don't see why you feel the need to mock everything that I say," Emily retorted drily. "Is it that ridiculous of a notion for our friends to be interested in what our granddaughter does?"

"Do you care what their granddaughters do?"

"Of course we do."

"To an extent," Richard clarified. "There is a difference between sharing and harping. If I have to hear about the Richardson's granddaughter winning another equestrian race..."

"Oh, they do go on," Emily agreed. "It's as if no one has ever ridden a horse before."

"So, if I'm understanding this correctly, Rory should just steer clear from going on about her equestrian medals and she'll be fine," Lorelai asked slowly.

She was met with Emily's disapproving look, to which she returned, "What? I'm just trying to get all this straight."

After dinner Lorelai drove them back to their home, coming up with all the fabricated articles that Rory could come up with to tell the other society folk the next night.

"You interviewed Jon Stewart," Lorelai said excitedly. "It's perfect because half of them probably won't even know who he is."

"But wouldn't that defeat the point of making up fake stories?"

"No, that is very much the point. Because they will all pretend that they know who he is, nodding along. Therefore, they are doubly hoodwinked."

Rory laughed at the use of 'hoodwinked'. "I see your point."

"Yes, and it is a fantastic one."

"Or…I could just tell them about the actual stories that I wrote. I mean, there is enough. And it doesn't involve lying that Grandma or Grandpa will almost certainly hear about."

"Well, that's no fun."

Lorelai pulled into their driveway and when she caught sight of the porch she asked, "Are those three men on the porch yours or mine?"

Rory grinned when she recognized the three boys. "Mine."

"And what are they doing on our porch?"

Rory unbuckled her seat belt, beginning to get out of the car. "I have no idea."

"Well, let's find out!" Lorelai said, climbing out of the car. Behind Rory she called out, "Boys, you're a day late! Thursdays are usually the night designated for waxing and waning poetically outside of my daughter's bedroom window."

"We're not here for that," Finn said. "Our boy Logan here would have our balls if we were."

Lorelai winced. "How charming. I'll be inside if you need me. Which, you know, please don't."

Finn watched Lorelai walk into the house and shook his head, letting out a low whistle. "I forgot how hot your mom is, Rory."

Rory scrunched her nose, walking toward Logan. "Please forget again."

Logan smirked and put his arms around her waist, dropping his head toward hers for a quick kiss.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Our other plans sort of fell through, so we figured we'd see what you were up to after your Friday night dinner."

"So, I'm the backup plan?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that offensive?"

"Marginally, but I'm willing to let it go. So, am I expected to entertain you now?"

"Last time I was here I saw you had some Cop Rock tapes?" Logan led, looking at her for affirmation. She nodded. "I also know you always have at least two gallons of ice cream in your freezer."

"I see what you're hinting at," she said. "I have only one question. Will you be replacing the two gallons of ice cream?"

"That goes without saying."

She grinned, sliding her hand down his arm and taking his hand. "Well, what are we all waiting for? Cop Rock awaits."

Four episodes and one and half gallons of ice cream later, Colin was passed out on the floor and Finn curled up on the chair. Logan laid with Rory on the couch, her body tucked against his and his arm around her waist.

"So, I take it you guys are spending the night?" she teased.

"It looks that way."

"You know, we didn't even get to the best episode," she said.

"Really?"

She nodded against his chest. "This just means we're going to have to have another Cop Rock night."

He laughed, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Alright. We'll have another."

"With burgers and fries. And more ice cream."

"How are you not eight hundred pounds?"

"I'm a medical marvel, buddy."

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, peppering soft kiss on her collarbone. She grinned, wriggling against him. "Alright, I need to go to bed," she said.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," she said. "I have a long day tomorrow and-"

"Just a few minutes more?" he asked in the voice she always had trouble resisting, and then his mouth found the crook of her neck…

"Logan stop," she murmured, pushing him away. "Do you not see that Colin and Finn are, like, two feet away from us right now?"

"They're asleep."

"They could wake up. Especially if you keep doing that. Bed. I'm going to it now."

"You sure you don't want to stay here."

"And have my mom find us like this in the morning?" she said, gesturing between them. "No thank you."

"Prude."

She laughed softly, sitting up. "Now I'm definitely going to bed."

He propped himself up on his elbow and said, "Fine. Now, try not to stay up too late with thoughts of me."

She gave him a look. "Good night, Logan."

"Night Ace."

The boys left early in the morning and it was a rush of homework and newspaper meetings before Rory and Lorelai whisked themselves to the charity event, arriving a cool five minutes early, just as Lorelai had promised.

"Don't you two look beautiful," Emily gushed, pulling each of them into a hug.

"We pulled out all the stops," Lorelai said. "We showered and everything."

Emily gave her a look, although her lips curled into a bemused grin. "It's too bad that Christopher is out of town. He always enjoyed these events."

Lorelai snorted. "If by enjoy, you mean enjoy the fine scotch, then yes. He loves them."

"Not everyone has the disdain for society that you do, Lorelai."

"Uh, have you met Chris?"

"He was just at the Tarlington's benefit for ALS last week," Emily said primly. "And he seemed to be having a fine time."

Lorelai held back a laugh that was sure to irritate her mother. Chris had told her all about that benefit, and how he started playing spot-the-toupe to keep himself awake.

"Well, I'll make sure to gloat and tell him what a great time he missed," Lorelai said. "Where's dad?"

Emily's eyes darkened for a moment and she said, "He's off somewhere."

"Off where?"

"Off stewing probably," Emily said, shaking her head reprovingly. "That man takes work too seriously."

Lorelai sensed an undercurrent to what her mother said and she gingerly asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Emily said dismissively. "Everything is just fine."

Rory sensed that Lorelai was going to push further, and she quickly asked, "So, Grandma, where are we sitting?"

"Right this way," Emily said, sliding her arm around Rory's shoulders as they walked toward the table. When they had reached their destination, a round eight-person-seater directly to the left of the podium, Emily squeezed Rory's shoulders and said, "This really is a phenomenal table, isn't it?"

"Primo real estate," Lorelai sang-song behind them.

"You can see why we had to have it filled," Emily said. "If we hadn't, they would have moved us to the back."

"It's a great table, Mom," Lorelai said, taking her seat. Rory sat down beside her and picked up the goblet of iced tea, taking a sip.

"Oh, the Harrods are here," Emily said, spotting someone over Rory's shoulder. "Are you two alright here?"

"We'll hold down the fort," Lorelai said, hitting the table lightly with her palms as she gave a resolute nod. Emily skirted off into the crowd, leaving Lorelai and Rory by themselves.

"Is it just me, or did you feel that cold front?"

"What?"

"When your grandma was talking about grandpa taking work too seriously. I wonder what's going on there."

Rory shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

Lorelai sensed the discomfort in her daughter's voice and immediately said, "Nah, I'm sure it's nothing. He probably was just late to dinner and her salad got cold."

Rory nodded, still not completely convinced. She didn't like the thought of her grandparents at odds. They were always a solid couple. The one constant thing in the flux of relationships around her.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Rory said, standing up.

"Alright. I'll be here."

Rory nodded and made her way out of the banquet hall to the bathrooms. When she came back, she nearly collided with a solid body. She staggered backwards, launching into a reflexive string of apologies. It wasn't until she was three "I'm so sorry"-s in that she saw who she had walked into.

"Logan," she stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"My parents rooked me into going," he said. "Happy to see me?"

"Two surprises in two days," she returned. "Keep this up and you're going to set a high bar for yourself, buddy."

He laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Where are the other two?" she asked.

"They had to head back early. Something about their boarding school not allowing student-sanctioned-holidays."

She laughed, shaking her head. "It'll be a wonder if they ever graduate."

"So, ready to head back in," Logan asked, taking a hold of her hand. "See who has the best table?"

He tugged her hand and as they headed in Rory said, "Oh, well that won't even be a competition."

Emily walked outside of the banquet hall and frowned when she saw Richard at the front of the entrance, cigar smoke in a thick fog around him. She waved her hand in front of her face and said, "Richard, what are you doing out here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Emily. I'm having a cigar."

"I see that," she said tartly. "You should be inside with everyone."

"I don't want to be inside with everyone," he responded. "They're all a bunch of quacks anyway. Dillon Thomas going on about his investment firm, as if he does any of the actual work."

"Richard-"

"It's preposterous. He's a figurehead, nothing else."

"Well, then avoid Dillon Thomas. I don't care what you do, just come inside and be social."

Richard's face turned red and he said, "I will not just march in there after you like a scolded child. I am a man and if I want to stand out here and smoke a cigar, that's what I'll do!"

"Richard!" Emily snapped. "Why, I-"

"I hate these events," Richard continued, gesturing toward the door angrily with his cigar. "I absolutely hate them. But I go because you want to and it's what society wants."

"It's your friends in there," Emily pressed. "Your Yale and work men-"

Richard laughed bitterly. "My friends? Those men in there are not my friends. They're vultures!"

"Richard-"

"40 years," he said, voice rising. "40 years I worked there, and they're going to push me out!"

"Richard, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Steinman came to my office today," Richard said. "He said he wanted to talk about restructuring." He let out a humorless laugh. "Restructuring is a nice way of saying squeezing out. Because that's what they're doing. Squeezing me out!"

"Richard, you can't be serious."

"Oh, I am very serious," Richard said. "I'm being pushed out, Emily. 40 years I put into that company, and I'm being thrown out."

"Can't you talk to Steinman?"

"Oh, I did. He talked. I yelled." He took a long drag of the cigar, Emily watching him with a worried expression. "And then I told him where he could put his restructuring and left."

"Richard," Emily said softly.

"I won't stand by and watch myself be replaced," Richard said.

"We will figure it out," Emily said, stepping forward and lying her hand on his arm. "Whatever comes next, we will figure it out, Richard."

Rory came over to the table with Logan and Lorelai grinned up at him from her seat.

"You show up at my house and now you're here. The only conclusion I can logically come to is that you are stalking us."

Logan laughed. "Guilty as charged. Or, you know, I'm your daughter's boyfriend."

Lorelai considered it for a moment and then said, "No. I'm pretty sure it's the first." She glanced at Rory. "By the way, your phone went off about eight times when you were in the bathroom. Someone is really anxious to talk to you."

Rory grabbed her phone off of the table and saw a few texts from Jess. She read through them quickly, smiling to herself.

"Anyone good?" Lorelai asked.

"It's just Jess," Rory said, putting her phone back on the table.

"Jess and you text?" Lorelai asked, glancing at Logan. His reaction was only there for a moment, but Lorelai saw the flash in his eyes and tightening of his jaw.

"Yeah," Rory said, shrugging.

"That's the guy from the Sweet Corn festival, right?" Logan asked.

Rory nodded. "Yeah. Luke's nephew."

There was a beat of silence and then Logan laid his hand on the small of her back and said, "Come on, let's dance."

"There's hardly anyone on the dance floor," she said.

"That just means more room for us, Ace."

Rory glanced at Lorelai and she said, "Go, kid. I'll be fine."

Rory looked up at Logan and said, "Well, then lead the way."

They walked onto the dance floor and he slid his arms around her waist. The song was some Sinatra standard and they swayed slowly to the music. She rested her chin on his shoulder and turned her face into his neck.

"Are you sniffing me?" he asked, chest rumbling with laughter.

"No. But you smell nice."

"Ha! So you were sniffing me."

"Shut up," she said softly, giving his arm a light slap. She relaxed against him again and said, "This is nice."

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Yeah, it is."

Logan wasn't a jealous person. Maybe it was because he never had something to be jealous over before, but when he started dating Rory he promised himself that he wouldn't jump to conclusions. He had seen it with his parents countless times over the years. His mom was suspicious of every nanny, secretary and waitress who passed Mitchum's line of vision. He swore he wouldn't be like that. He would trust the person he was with.

And he did trust Rory. He knew she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but something about that Jess kid rubbed him the wrong way. It was the casual way she mentioned him in conversation. It was as if he had always been a part of their lives, which he hadn't. It'd been a month. Not even that long – maybe three weeks. But she talked about him like he was as old of a friend as Lane for her or Finn for him.

He tried not to read too much into it all, but he couldn't help himself. Whenever she got a text from Jess he imagined what it said. What it didn't. He imagined their time together when he wasn't around. Trips to bookstores. Coffee at Luke's. He was making himself crazy with all of the fabricated scenarios he drummed up in his spare time.

But he trusted her. She loved him. She would never hurt him. He had nothing to worry about. Not a single thing.

At least he hoped.

A/N: Dramarama. Next chapter is partially planned and it is a DOOZEY.

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