Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I've got a bunch excuses some true, some made up (exams, sick cat, college, the flu, flat tire, stop light, over slept, twisted ankle.) But, I know you don't want to hear them. So, get on and read!

It's a chapter full of Rory-Mitchum confrontation.

Review if you are happy I updated (I'm secretly hoping to break 800 reviews by the end of this story. Are you up to the challenge? What?! Only if I update more often? Okay, okay…I hear you, I hear you!) Meanwhile, let me know what you think and know I appreciate all the reviews, adds and favorites. Still blows my mind!

Love laced with laughter,

Gilmoregirl19

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, or Frank.

'Here you are, Mrs. Huntzberger,' Frank, the driver said, handing Rory a cup of coffee.

It was the gas station variety, a watered down brew done no favors by powered creamer and it was served in a Styrofoam cup complete with an ill-fitting lid. Not even the sticky bottle of vanilla or cinnamon flavoring that was bound to be next to the coffee station in the gas station could have saved this poor excuse for a drink.

However, being desperate times and all, she shot the driver a grateful smile and embraced the nasty coffee. She took a small sip and decided that she had consumed much worse on the campaign trail.

She continued to take small sips of her coffee as the limo pulled away from the pump and carried on with the drive to the Huntzberger Publishing Groups' office building.

She had left Stars Hallow with such confidence and determination, ready to use her fighting words and to verbally kick some HPG ass. But now, as the car closed in on the City, Rory's confidence was shrinking by the minute. Mitchum would probably see her, but would he listen? Would he want to hear Rory defend her husband, would he want to fix the damage that had been done to Logan and Mitchum's relationship? Or, would he let Rory ramble then interrupt without warning and trick her into something – a job – she wasn't after in the first place.

They were stopped at a light and these questions were on spin cycle in her mind. All she had to do was tell the driver to turn the car around, head back to Stars Hallow and it would be as if this had never happened. She mentally made a simple pro-con list and as she felt the car inch forward she knocked feverishly on the reinforced glass divider.

"Ma'am?" Frank asked, as the divider slid down.

"I have to pee," she smiled, almost apologetically. It was the story of her pregnant-clichéd life.

He nodded, "Anything else?"

"I need a taco."

Frank laughed at the strange request, but then again, he had been chauffeuring Mrs. Huntzberger around since she was 'just' Rory Gilmore, the only 'no-strings girl' Logan ever lent the car to, so he had become accustomed to Rory's requests.

"Of course," he said, inching his way through the morning traffic, "And what do tacos mean?" he asked.

"Nothing," Rory laughed, "But it's the only food that'll prepare a person for a screaming match with a Huntzberger man."

"I see," Frank said his tone laced with laughter, buzzing the screen up.

"Thanks, Frank," Rory smiled, letting herself fall back into the buttery leather seats. She quickly checked her phone to make sure no one had called her. She was relieved to find that she was Miss Unpopular this morning and a huge smile crept over her face. Bring it on, Huntzberger, bring it on.

Rory absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the banister, as HPG's elevator swooshed up the stories. Frank, being more powerful than he ever let on, whizzed Rory passed the security checkpoint and told her he would wait for her in the parking garage. However, if she wasn't back in three hours he would come find her.

It was now or never, Rory knew and she was anxious. Her coming here would be office gossip for months, or even years to come. It might be quoted on well-known office blogs or even Page Six. She was a socialite after all. Take that Paris Hilton. She was a one woman army ready to take Mitchum Huntzberger down. However, her fighting mood changed as the elevator doors pinged open. It was as if a silent war had taken place. The office was empty and quiet, save for a lone telephone ringing in an office somewhere.

This threw Rory. Where was everyone?

"You came," Mitchum's voice dragged her from her thoughts.

Rory shifted her gaze so as to meet Mitchum. He looked awful. His thinning hair was tufted together, creating a less than stellar interpretation of the 'out-of-bed' look. He was wearing the same suit as he had been wearing during his visit to Stars Hallow though now, it was wrinkled, he had ditched the tie and a light stain was visible on his once-crisp shirt. Coffee, probably, or perhaps sauce from some fast-food meal he had consumed.

Mitchum had bags under his eyes; his skin was pale like porcelain and more wrinkled than ever before. It was true; stress considerably aged a man.

"Uh," Rory was slightly shocked by Mitchum's appearance. "I came…"

"Logan?" Mitchum wanted to know.

"In Stars Hallow," Rory stated unsurely, not knowing how much she wanted to give away to him.

Mitchum nodded, "I always knew Rory Gilmore had a cunning side to her." He let out a hallow laugh, making Rory feel uncomfortable. It was hard to gauge this Mitchum. He sounded a little drunk and his disheveled appearance didn't do anything to help.

"Mitchum…" Rory started slowly, carefully.

"Coffee, Rory?" he interjected, "Or something a little stronger?" he grinned, swishing his Starbucks travel mug around.

"I am pregnant," Rory replied, slightly offended.

Mitchum let his eyes linger on her pregnant belly. "Coffee it is then," he turned on his heel, leaving a confused Rory in a very empty lobby.

"You coming?" he called.

Rory curiously followed Mitchum down the hall and watched as made her a pot of coffee. They waited in awkward silence as the coffee brewed.

"Milk?" Mitchum asked her, taking the carafe filled with dark brown liquid and hovering it over a mug.

She nodded, "A splash and two sugars." She continued to watch as he made her coffee to order, and gratefully took the mug from him. She took a sip, closing her eyes and savoring the deliciousness of the drink.

Opening her eyes, Rory caught Mitchum shooting her a puzzled look. "I never would have guessed you like coffee that much," he clarified, taking the mug from her and refilling it.

She laughed at the oddness of the situation. She was tense, but at ease at the same time. She had spent the entire ride strategizing, planning Mitchum's downfall and as it seemed that that had been taken care of. Before her stood an obviously broken man.

Rory smiled, taking the mug once more, "Yeah, well, I never would have guessed to find the great Mitchum Huntzberger alone in his office, apparently abandoned by his staff…"

"What makes you think they abandoned me?" Mitchum asked tightly, walking out of the break room.

Rory trailed behind him, "I don't think you'd have them all fired," she stated simply and braced herself for the yelling that was about to follow.

"You think or you know?" Mitchum demanded. His wasn't yelling, like she expected him to, but it wasn't the sloppy, possibly drunk tone he had taken before.

"Excuse me?" Rory asked, following him into his office.

"Sit down," Mitchum instructed, "It's that indecisiveness that's been standing in the way of your journalism career!"

If Rory hadn't been eight months pregnant and physically unable to jump up from her leather office chair, she would have smacked him in the face and stormed out.

"What?" Rory was offended. "It wasn't indecisiveness that stood in the way of my journalism career!" She spoke hotly, "I think – no, I know – it was you!"

"Is that so?" Mitchum asked smugly.

"Yes," Rory threw her hands up in anger. All the sympathy she had felt for Mitchum and his empty office was gone. "You played mind games with me, trying to convince me I'm not good journalist and then as soon as I accept a job within 10 miles of your office, you have the place fold!!!"

"It was Milton," Mitchum corrected, "whom meddled with Old York. And, I still stand by my reasoning that you are not an excellent journalist."

Rory was about to contradict him, but Mitchum raised his hand, "You doubt too much. You care too much; you don't have that certain something to excel as a journalist."

"That's not true," Rory stated angrily, "I am a damn good journalist, my time on the campaign trail proved that."

"Blogging is quite a different field, Rory, and if you were that interested in being a journalist you wouldn't have walked out that day at the Stamford Gazette."

Rory shot him a blank look.

"It was a test, Gilmore, a test I make all interns and even Logan do. Why do you think I made him work 100 hour weeks?!"

Rory now glared at him angrily, as he continued, "A great journalist would have known it was a test and a determined journalist would have gone the extra mile to prove me wrong and not, as I believe I read in the papers, steal a yacht."

"I was a kid," Rory tried to justify her actions; "I was 20. What 20-year old goes against the great Mitchum Huntzberger?"

"A 20-year old who believes she is a great journalist, a 20-year old that was dating my son at the time. If it were me, I would have used my resources a little better…." Mitchum sighed, "However, that is obviously in the past," he pointed at Rory's stomach, "You clearly have a different set of priorities now."

Rory looked at her stomach. It was true; her priorities had changed quite a bit.

"It's a shame, since you would have great addition to HPG since I do believe you have excellent writing skills."

"Well, whatever," Rory waved his maybe-compliment away, "It doesn't matter anyway since it's obvious that HPG is going down, and fast."

Mitchum contorted his face, but remained silent. Certain calmness returned to her voice and she hoped to veer the conversation back to Mitchum's problems and insecurities instead of her own.

"Where is everyone, Mitchum?" she asked.

"What do you want to hear, Rory?" he croaked, "That the rumors about Logan and consequently Milton's departure were spun so out of control that I lost all credibility as the CEO of this organization, all credibility as a father to HPG's single most beloved member of staff?"

Rory shrugged, as Mitchum continued, "As Mary-Lou put it, "We can't work for a man who can't even stand up for his own son, especially not a son with a pregnant wife. And, what a lovely thing she is, too."

Rory remained silent as she let his words sink in.

"They are on strike," Mitchum sighed tiredly after a few moments of silence.

"Is that why you came to Stars Hallow?" Rory asked quickly, a hidden rage lacing her tone. She knew Mitchum always operated with an agenda. It wasn't as if she didn't have an agenda, since she did. And she needed to play her cards right, in order to pull it off. For once, she was proud Emily Gilmore was her grandmother as she knew that deep-down that same sly spirit flowed through her veins.

She was pleased that Mitchum revealed such a valuable piece of information. It was clear that the staff worshipped Logan and without his return their departure would be permanent, meaning HPG would be forced to shut its doors, effectively signaling the biggest publishing bust ever. If that didn't shame the family name, nothing would. Rory sighed heavily, knowing that the future of Huntzberger Publishing Group was in her hands.

"Partly, yes," Mitchum relented. "Is it a crime for wanting to see my son?"

"Depending on the reasons, yes," Rory bit back. "Admit it, Mitchum, you simply want Logan for the business because you know that without him you are worthless."

Mitchum shot her a blank stare.

"It must be a terrible feeling to know that the son you loathe has the upper hand," Rory shot him a significant glare.

"He doesn't have the upper hand," Mitchum countered instinctively, causing Rory to shoot him an disbelieving look.

"Right, because nothing says power like an empty office building."

Mitchum remained silent as a small devilish grin appeared on his face, "Perhaps I've underestimated you, Gilmore."

Rory winced as he called her 'Gilmore'; Mitchum only did that when he was very mad. He continued, "But let's be clear, I do not loathe Logan."

"Maybe it's a strong word," Rory shrugged, "But it's obvious you don't care…"

"Stop right there," Mitchum bellowed, "I have only ever handled in the best interest of my son!"

"Hardly," Rory spat in reply, "If you cared you wouldn't have worked Logan like a dog for six months, you wouldn't have kept him away from his family and you wouldn't have let him walk away!"

"It's part of his training and he knew that. You knew that!" he sighed heavily, "And this, ladies and gentlemen," he spoke to the non-existent crowd, "is why you don't mix family and business."

"Give me a break," she snorted, "All you've done your whole life is mix you personal life with your business!"

She caught the shocked look in Mitchum's face, so she angrily fired off some examples, "Milton was your best friend, you've groomed Logan for HPG since he was four years old, you put out several music magazines because Honor wanted you to, you put out Home and Garden magazines since Shira wanted you to!"

Mitchum stood up from his desk, hovering over Rory, "Logan is a Huntzberger and a Huntzberger belongs at HPG. It's as simple as that!"

Rory looked up him, for a brief moment she considered slapping his face, but she didn't.

"Bullshit," she said darkly. "All you care about is keeping up appearances, Mitchum," she continued in disgust, "You are just as bad as those high society women!"

Mitchum moved away from her, letting himself fall back in his chair. "Really, now?" he said unimpressed.

"Damn right," Rory brushed her bangs away from her forehead, "You sent Logan to the London Offices to keep him out of your way… I bet you were trying to land a big deal and you couldn't afford the possibility of bad press!" She caught the guilty look on Mitchum's face.

"And then," she continued angrily, "he comes back reformed, starts a potentially great business for HPG and you don't even have the decency to support him! You let him walk out when that deal failed, too! I can't believe you have the audacity to suggest Logan belongs at HPG just because of his last name! That proves that you don't care about him!"

Rory knew she was playing a mean game, but it was the only way to play. If Logan came back to HPG on his own would mean a serious blow to her husband's ego – one she wasn't sure he could take. Besides, it was time someone brought Mitchum down a peg or two.

"I do care about him, Rory!" Mitchum said quietly. It was an unexpected reaction, but Rory took it just the same. She nodded for him to continue.

"Maybe it's not that fuzzy nonsense you are used to in Stars Hallow, but it's the same," he tapped his pointer finger on his desk, as if to prove a point.

"It's not the same!" Rory threw her hands up in frustration, "I know my parents love me, have always loved me. Logan's lived his life in your footsteps, only receiving praise if his actions fit in with HPG's corporate goals!"

She inhaled, "Why the hell to do you think I let him work those 100 hour weeks? For his health?," she paused a beat, "No, because I knew he was doing it for your recognition. "

"Okay," Mitchum nodded, indicating that he had had enough, "Thank-you Dr. Phillipa. I don't think my son would do that."

"You think or you know?" Rory smugly placed her arms around her chest.

"Cute," Mitchum glared at her.

"No, I'm being serious, Mitchum," she said patronizingly, "You should know – I thought you knew your son so well?

"Perhaps," Mitchum suggested slowly, "He was craving some sort of recognition – but not from me specifically. He knows he's got talent, and he deserves credit for that."

"I see Logan gets his stubbornness from you," Rory rolled her eyes, "Why is it so hard for you to admit that you love your son? That he's more than just a business deal?"

"He knows that!"

"Obviously not, Mitchum," Rory sighed, "Otherwise it would be him in this chair instead of me!"

Mitchum remained silent as he realized that Rory had a point. However, he also knew that Rory wasn't being upfront with him. He could tell that she had an agenda of her own. Nevertheless, she had cornered him. He had admitted to her that HPG was nothing without Logan and it was obvious that Rory was the only one to persuade Logan to go back to the Group.

"So, why are you here?" Mitchum asked, changing the subject suddenly.

"Because," she stated simply, "I do love my husband and I know he loves this job for the job and solely not the recognition and that he's too talented to let it go to waste."

"Right," Mitchum brought his hands up to his chin, appearing to be deep in thought.

"What?" Rory asked hesitantly.

"It's just that's very noble of you," a devilish grin appeared on Mitchum's face, "Too noble perhaps."

Rory raised her hand to him, "Look, I'm here because of Logan. I am not going to stand by and let his career go to waste. He's too stubborn to give in."

"So you think you'll guilt me into giving in? To what exactly? I offered a job, and I'm sure you remember, he doesn't want to accept."

"Actually," Rory replied, "What you offered was a joke and frankly, quite insulting."

Mitchum raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"He wants a proper apology, Mitchum," she clarified.

"And what makes you think I'll do that?"

"I figure you owe me," Rory said in a business-like tone.

"I owe you?"

"Yes, yes, I believe you do," Rory nodded, "See, if it hadn't been for you and your company I still would have a job to go back to after this baby."

"Ah, yes," Mitchum nodded, "But I believe I offered you a position as well."

"Who said I was not accepting that offer?" Rory surprised Mitchum, "I just want it in a different form, that's all," she spoke in a business-like fashion.

"What?" Mitchum asked, "And give up the chance to be a journalist for HPG?"

"What's it to you," Rory shrugged, "You don't think I have the capability, you've let me know that many times before,"

"At least you listen," Mitchum let out a small laugh, "A journalist you aren't but you have writers blood and this proves, once again, that you do not have what it takes!"

"Really?" Rory let a smug smile play at her lips as she produced a small USB-stick from her purse, laying it down on Mitchum's desk. "I'm glad to hear that."

"What's this about?" Mitchum sighed tiredly.

"In addition to magazines, websites and newspapers I believe it's time that Huntzberger Publishing expands its line to books."

Mitchum exchanged a quick glance between Rory and the USB-stick. "Well, I think that depends on Logan."

"And I think that depends on Logan's contract," Rory replied, without missing a beat.

"Touché, Huntzberger, touché," Mitchum laughed. Rory smiled, noting that Mitchum had finally referred to as a Huntzberger. High praise from the mighty man, she thought.

Rory and Mitchum spent the following hour and a half debating the terms of Logan's contract. Rory insisted that Logan had to have at least 48 hours warning for a business trip and that work stayed at work. She argued long and hard that Mitchum was not to bring up work at family gatherings. Mitchum, in turn, pushed a mandatory business meeting in Boston once every two weeks and Logan attending 'social' functions after work.

Rory felt guilty about going behind Logan's back; it was almost too Society Wife of her. Nevertheless, she knew Logan wouldn't do this on his own.

"Anything else?" Mitchum said, scanning the contract.

"Nothing is official until Logan sees it," Rory said firmly, "He has the right to have his say."

"Fair enough," he said after a moment's thought.

"And," Rory said as an afterthought, "He can't know about the new venture," she said looking at the USB-stick.

"Because?"

"I said so," Rory offered by way of explanation.

"Fair enough," Mitchum chuckled again.

He had really come to see another side of Rory. In his eyes he had changed from unimportant college girlfriend, to the best thing that happened to his son, to the worst thing that happened to his son, to unexpected, unimportant wife, to a balls-to-the-wall-go-getting-foot-stomping-vicious negotiator. She had passion and she would fight for Logan to the end. It was really something quite remarkable.

"So," Mitchum sighed, "I'll come by tomorrow and apologize formally."

"Yes, yes you will," Rory nodded. "And I will make sure Logan will listen to that apology."

A heavy silence fell between the pair. Rory was wrapped up in guilt, but also an insane sense of accomplishment. She had cracked Mitchum Huntzberger.

"I love my son," Mitchum said suddenly, "And I couldn't have hoped for a better wife for him."

Rory shot him a surprised half smile. "I know," she softly.

He shook his head, shaking away the tender moment. "Look at the time," he glanced at the clock hung on his wall.

"Oh my," Rory got up, playing along with Mitchum's attempt to move on, "Frank must be worried sick."

"Better get going then," Mitchum suggested a little to eagerly.

Rory nodded as she and Mitchum stood up. She caught the sad look on the not-so-broken mans' face. It was almost tragic. Here he was, a grown man, who couldn't even cope with three little words.

"Good meeting," Mitchum smiled gently as he walked her to the door.

"Yes, it was," Rory replied, awkwardly leaning in, her pregnancy getting in the way, in an attempt to give him a hug.

Mitchum awkwardly patted her on the back, but the smile in his eyes was enough for Rory.

"How was the meeting?" Frank asked, as Rory stepped off the HPG elevator and onto the hard, shiny floor of the lobby.

"Good," Rory yawned, "Exhausting."

"Stars Hallow?" Frank asked, grabbing Rory's purse.

"No, the apartment," she said, switching her phone back on.

53 missed calls. All Logan. Maybe the apartment wasn't such a good idea.