March 2012

"Come back to bed."

Warm lips pressed lazily into the bare nape of her neck, slowly leaving a trail of feverish kisses going south. His sneaky hand crept under the shirt she robbed off the floor after he drifted off into post-coitus sleep.

He pulled the earbuds out of her ear, pried the pencil out of her hand and used his most persuasive tone: "I'll make it worth your while."

Rory's hands covered the sketchbook protectively when his naked chest pressed into her back. Guarding her privacy.

His hot breath tickled the shell of her ear. Rory smiled despite the intrusion. Her initial resistance waning once his fingertips brushed suggestively on her naked thighs. Like they played the strings of his guitar. Rory could feel herself go nearly boneless at the gentle yet seductive flatter.

Rory spanned around on the kitchen stool, away from the sketchbook, and pulled him into a compensating kiss and a promise; "In a minute."

"You always say that," He pressed his forehead to hers pouting, "Then you stay up all night sketching."

"I promise."

"Bed's lonely without you," His mouth began trailing kisses against her jaw again, his hands maneuvered her legs to circle his hips, determined. She smiled at his insatiable manners.

"I just need to finish this first," Rory swatted his roaming hands. Pushing his shoulders back, his youthful skin smooth under her fingertips.

"Do you have a deadline?"

"No." It was only half a lie.

She was halfway to complete her sixty days challenge. Sixty comic strips in sixty days. One strip per day. Sixty key moments and lessons of her life in Seattle. The project was due to wrap up precisely on her mother's 'double 22' birthday.

"No?" His lips stretched into a smile, his tongue flicked over his lips in anticipation, hands running on her forearms suggestively, "I'll do that thing you like."

That had Rory nearly tempted. "Joel."

"Fine. What is this secret project anyway?" Joel eliminated all closeness in a swift movement only a twenty-something body could produce. Without a moment's notice.

Rory's hand fumbled for the pencil, leaning over the kitchen counter half guarding the sketchbook with her body. "Nothing, I told you, it's just… something I work on."

"For work?" Joel asked, a glass of water now in his hand.

"No." Rory kept her answer intentionally vague.

"Are you a spy?" He probed playfully. "Do you encrypt state secrets for the Russians?"

"I'm practically James Bond." Rory's countered; her fingers tightened on her pencil.

"Maybe a Bond girl." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The joke wasn't funny. The heated exchange of words was still fresh in her mind even months later.

She was hoping to put an end to their ridiculous fight. Rory had their reconciliation planned to perfection. Her 't's and 'i's wasn't crossed and dotted just yet, but her dad was on board.

A surprising and overenthusiastic collaborator. Plotting with her dad was kinda fun.

Not nearly as fun as Lorelai, but close.

"So let me see."

No one, besides Kate, was seeing this before her mother.

"No." Rory flat out refused. With good reason too. Who the hell would want to know their girlfriend was scribbling her dingy men history down?

Joel looked disappointed. Rory looked away.

"Fine." He gulped the rest of his water down. His hand left cradled her face leaning down for a kiss. "20 minutes?"

"20 minutes," she concurred, relieved he backed down from further investigation.

His teeth grazed her bottom lip playfully at the edge of the kiss.

He stepped away grinning, waving the stolen sketchbook over his head. Sneaky little bastard.

"If you come back to bed - you'll get it back!"

~w~


April 2012

"Which one of you took my Mars bar?" Rory questioned Nicole rummaging through her drawers. She might have misplaced it, although she was pretty sure there should have been one.

"I don't touch that poison, and neither should you. That's 5.2 spoonful of sugar," Nicole typed louder than necessary on her keyboard to make a point. "It has early death written all over it."

"Your concern has been duly noted." Rory rolled her eyes, "Kate?"

It was post-lunch. Her daily routine wasn't complete without a chocolate bar accompanying her second coffee between 2 to 4 p.m.

"I've been trying to move up my dentist appointment, and there's not even one available in the whole downtown until next week! Do you think I'd be after your Mars bar? My teeth are killing me."

"Well someone is! Has." Rory expressed her frustration. "And it's gone now."

"You used to have better chocolates delivered here before you turned into a cradle robber, Gilmore," Nicole reminisced, "Those were at least worth the sugar."

Rory huffed, she preferred to leave those chocolates and that incident well buried in the past.

Kate, who taken a peculiar liking to refer Joel as her 'One Direction boyfriend', didn't even try to hide her grin.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" Rory's eyes snapped to the man at the door.

Logan Huntzberger always seem to stumble upon her most embarrassing moments.

Impeccable timing.

When did he get back? When they rounded for lunch Ben said he was out. It wasn't unusual. Although since their impromptu trip to California - Ben and Logan took a lot of Lunch meetings. Especially Logan.

"You cut your hair," Kate commented on the change in his appearance.

"I did," He ran his hand over his trimmed locks coyly, "You approve?"

The mussed tousle of blonde hair was replaced with a fashionable cut but still looked defiantly unkempt. Like he couldn't be bothered checking the mirror before he rolled out of bed.

Rory found it odd. It was past noon. He had at least more than one chance to meet a mirror and put it right.

"Oh Huntzberger, trust me if I wasn't happily married…" Kate batted her eyes at him.

Logan's smirk widened.

Rory cringed at Kate's blunt proposition. Watching Kate playfully flirt with Logan gave Rory uneasy feeling. It was just like watching her mother flirt with men.

"Rory is sugar deprived." Nicole offered in the swooned manner she always talked to Logan. Rory narrowed her eyes at the strawberry blonde proofing editor. "Her Mars bar is missing."

"Unfortunate." His face didn't mimic the sentiment.

Then, like a ton of bricks, it downed on to her. He had sex hair.

Logan Huntzberger had a 'sex-lunch'.

He threw his phone at her. The minutes on the screen ticked, someone was still on the line.

"Finn wants to talk to you. I don't want to know why." He said before turning on his heels, "Bring it back when you're done. He's on hold."

Finn wanted to talk about her mother's birthday party.

xxxxxx

Stepping into Logan's office was something Rory did on rare occasions.

The Excel spreadsheet he was engrossed in looked frightening, lines and lines of numbers and charts.

"Did you change the names in my phone book?" he asked as if it happened before.

She studied his profile. A red smudge of lipstick stood out on the edge of his pale-blue dress shirt.

Rory decided that maybe she should have.

"You have lipstick on your collar." Her voice was emotionless as she placed the electronic piece at the edge of his desk.

Logan's fingers felt the remains of colorful paste on his collar. Rory didn't think anyone could look both smug and embarrassed until now.

"Stay out of my chocolate drawer, Huntzberger."

~w~


"So your dad is like crazy rich?" Joel questioned as they waited for the elevator. The arrow pointing down flickered.

Christopher Hayden booked his daughter a business class seat for April 25th. She less than thrilled, but he was trying so hard.

"You won't see him visiting Target anytime soon." Rory wiggled her toes inside her leopard heels. She opted for a diplomatic answer, she didn't want to talk about money with him.

"Did he pay for Yale?" Sometimes Rory forgot Joel was still in college.

"No, my grandparents paid for Yale. Can we talk about something else? Where did you say we are going?"

Joel showed up more dressed up than she anticipated when they arranged going out for drinks. Well dressed up for Joel anyways. White sneakers with black Chinos didn't count as smart in Emily Gilmore's book. It didn't count in Rory's either.

It was Sunday evening. Their heading location was a surprise. Surprises made Rory anxious, she was an avid planner. She hoped her golden midi skirt and white top cut it for the venue.

"I didn't." Joel chuckled, grabbing her hand as the elevator dinged its arrival; "Ready to be blown off your feet?"

"Definitely, not." Rory blurted when the elevator door opened to reveal Logan wrapped in the arms of a fairly luscious woman.

"Oh sorry, man." Easy going Joel was the first to recover.

Logan quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the other still laid on the waist of his companion.

Rory looked anywhere but him.

"Rory."

"Logan."

"Joel. Rory's boyfriend." The musician reached out his hand advertised his status, tucking her under his arm.

"Rory's boss." Logan's countered back in a perfectly practiced handshake. Rory was surprised he chose to cement their acquaintance that way. "Dawn, you've met Rory, right?"

"Nope, first time." The dark woman popped her 'p', taking their dressed-up appearances, "Where are you two going?"

"The Nest. It's a rooftop at the Thompson." Joel announced their night plans proudly.

Rory's mouth dried. This wasn't happening. Her eyes instinctively, but involuntarily, flicked to Logan's.

"Ah, Rory's favorite joint," Logan's voice dripped of concealed sarcasm behind his slow smirk. He turned to his companion, "It's great. We should totally go check it out."

Rory forced a smile.

Logan Huntzberger just crashed her date-night.

xxxxx

"We are performing at 'Chich' on April 25th," Joel gulped on his Weihenstephan, "Rory will be on the East Coast but you guys are more than welcome to come."

"Ah, that's cool, what kind of music you play?" Dawn seemed to enjoy Joel's easy chatter about the band. Rory was rather relieved to discover he didn't mind the intrusion on his romantic plans.

On the contrary, Joel was having a blast. She was less forgiving.

"East coast?" Across from her, Logan kept taking shallow sips of his Bourbon. His arm draped over the doctor's shoulders. His phone and her pager camped between half-full drinks.

"It's my mother's birthday."

"How is the lovely Lorelai?" Logan questioned tipping his glass of Maker's Mark. Rory didn't miss the intention behind the drink of his choice. It wasn't a coincidence. Neither were the pink cocktails that kept being coming to the table.

When they went out in a group, he usually stuck to scotch.

Apparently, Dawn's heart was set on being the best trauma surgeon on this side of the flyover states. Rory once wanted to be Christiane Amanpour. That dream de-materialized on the Campaign trail when she realized her elbows bruised easy.

Rory's smile flattened, "She's her normal eccentric self."

"We've been working on some original material. We'll be playing that." Joel continued to carry the conversation he started.

"I'll be so sorry to miss that," Rory squeezed her boyfriend hand encouragingly, avoiding Logan's unnerving eyes. He seemed too interested in her plans. "Joel plays mean Bass."

"We're trying to get this guy from Atlantic Records to come to see us live. He liked the demo we sent. It could help us score some more studio time."

"Yes, that would be a great opportunity." Rory agreed wholeheartedly.

"If he comes," Logan countered under Rory's disapproving glare, "What? 'IF' is the word daydreams are made off, not strategies."

'Strategy' was a word Logan Huntzberger felt strongly about, he didn't just throw it around. Rory felt the fumes starting in the pit of her stomach.

"We have to get our music out there somehow to get a record deal. It'll be cool if it happens. If not, there's always another day." Joel shrugged unnerved, "That's how the business work. It's a lot of footwork."

"True." Logan took a shallow sip of his Maker's Mark Bourbon, "But you're doing it's wrong."

The female doctor at his side looked surprised at his bluntness. Probably seeing this side of him for the first time.

"Logan don't be an ass."

Rory felt Joel's hand on her arm. "No, let's hear him."

Logan looked at Rory. She simply shrugged, if Joel wanted it.

"Say he doesn't show, what's plan B?"

"We've been saving up for our own studio time. We'll send more demos around."

"It's a waste of time and money," Logan sneered, silencing his vibrating phone. "An hour at a recording studio cost what? around 250 dollars on average? That's without post-production. You'll need more than an hour."

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you have that kind of money?" Rory's face clouded at his straightforwardness.

"Logan, give the guy a break." Dawn picked up her pager although it has not beeped.

"I am. People pay six hundred dollars just to sit-down with me. He's getting it for free." Logan leaned forward daring Rory to argue.

She couldn't. What pompous ass.

"Records companies are a trap. It's a dying business. They'll own your masters - then you're their bitch for life."

"You need a record's company back."

"As distributors, sure. Don't be a fool; Keep your copyrights, cut the middle man. You don't need them to get an audience. What you need is to be savvy and a strong social media presence."

Joel looked skeptical. Logan's phone flashed mutely again- he ignored it.

"Justin Bibber got discovered in a YouTube video. The One Direction hype?" Logan paused his roll for effect – pun intended, "Is all down to an army of teeny-boppers fan-base doing the legwork on Facebook and Twitter."

Rory was partly impressed and partly terrified by his knowledge of teeny-bopper pop culture.

"If the music is good you don't need a gimmick." Joel ideally protested. Rory assumed he didn't like the comparison. Dawn looked bored.

"Arctic Monkeys started on MySpace." Logan was full of fight and spirit.

Joel looked dazed at the comeback. Dawn excused herself to the washroom with her pager.

"What I'm saying is simple: people don't buy music records anymore. They're downloading them." Logan pointed out, "Now the smart thing to do, with very little cost on your part, is to make good music and turn the hype up."

Logan was momentarily distracted by the reoccurring buzzing on his phone. Not for the first time since he started his rant.

He rejected the call.

"What do you mean?"

"You need to keep people talking about you. You need to make your audience do the work for you." Logan summed up.

Joel glanced sideways at Rory. She felt for him, but at the same time, couldn't say Logan didn't have a point. There was a reason he was good at what he does.

"You're a college band, you have a captive audience, but they need to feel like your show is the place to be. They can't come to your show? No problem, make sure they can watch it on YouTube! What people want is a connection. They long to be a part of something bigger. A cannon to mull over."

She couldn't help but be impressed by the way Logan carried his argument. His body language oozed confidence. He was in his element.

"And after all that, if they like your song, you can be damn sure they'll tell everyone they know about it."

Where was her camera when she needed it? He radiated passion.

"Free publicity." Logan snapped his fingers as if it was easy.

Joel toyed with his now lukewarm beer, obviously contemplating. A little overwhelmed.

"The band is not a product."

"Everything is marketable, okay? So fine, you're not a manufactured plastic carp assembled by a group of middle-aged music muggles. You're a bunch of college guys making music. Maybe even good music, who knows? People can relate to that, it's a story."

Rory played with her straw.

Logan rejected the call again. He looked annoyed by it.

"But nobody is talking about it. There are hundreds of bands just like yours competing on the same slice of pie - so what makes you special?"

Joel stroked his chin and tapped his fingers on the tabletop thinking.

"Social media- that's your ambassador of Quan." Logan announced when the musician failed to answer. Rory couldn't hold her giggle. Logan's dimpled flashed satisfied she caught on, "Now you just have to find it. And work it."

"Quan?"

"It's from Jerry Maguire." Rory filled him in on the reference. "It's a movie. Tom Cruise is in it."

From the corner of her eye, Rory noticed Logan's eyes searched the room for Dawn.

"Okay, so how do I do that?"

"Ask your girlfriend, that's what she gets paid for." Logan's phone violently vibrated. The screen flashing its blue light again. "Excuse me, I have to take this."

"What just happened?" Joel stared at the blonde man's back.

Rory stabbed her straw in her watered-down pink drink. "He Huntzbergered you."

"I love that guy! How come I never met him before?" Rory stared at her boyfriend in disbelieve, she didn't know what to make of this evening.

"Logan flies a lot." For some reason, he seemed to find her lame answer satisfying.

"You've been here before?" Joel asked. Rory nodded curtly, squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a comforting manner. "I love it here. The view is amazing."

Answering in more detail will only hurt him.

"I thought you'd like the view of the ferries wheel at night." Joel gave a sincere smile. Rory felt bad and touched at the same time. He had wanted this to be special.

"It's my favorite part," She admitted. The problem was that the ferries wheel was a memory of another man.

A man who knew more than just her drink.

Rory inwardly sighed. She knew what comic strip she would be drawing tonight.

~w~


"Priz says you should come over for dinner," Ben said as Logan flopped down on the couch in his business partner's office tiredly mid-day.

"Fine." Logan kicked his shoes off. He didn't have the energy to argue.

"And bring the doctor with you."

"Who's cooking?"

"Ah. That was easier than I thought." Ben said more to himself, "You're not sleeping in here."

"Just resting my eyes." Logan was already sprawled out an arm over his eyes. "20 minutes and I'm good as new."

"I thought you had lunch plans?"

"They fell through," Logan said simply.

Dawn was withholding sex. Since Sunday night at 'The Nest'. A damn shame because she was a thrill in the sack. Her coconut-scented skin and mellow somewhere-southern drawl drove him wild.

She wanted to talk. Logan wanted to wake up, heavy head, lying in his bed with her naked.

"Logan?"

"Hmm…"

"Are you alright?" Ben asked worriedly.

Logan returned from California in high-functioning mode. It has yet to run its course. He also flat out refused to talk about Chelsea- claiming 'there is nothing to say'. Ben didn't believe him for a minute.

All in all, it seemed Logan found himself a Bobbi substitute.

"I'm fine." Logan's voice hinted frustration, "I swear I'm not on anything. I get out of bed in the morning. I'm swimming, running, climbing, hiking, fucking it out."

"Do you even go to sleep?"

Logan didn't answer. It was ironic he was sleepless in Seattle.

Sport kept him in motion, but he needed sex to take the edge off. He couldn't fall asleep without. Taking care of himself didn't achieve the same result. Or other desired effects he craved.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ben offered.

"Does it look like I want to talk?"

~w~


Logan soaped the chalk off his hands. The cuts on his knuckles stung under the warm water. It was a small price to pay for a satisfying boulder climbing session. It was quickly becoming his favorite sport. A good combination of strength training and his love for highs.

Logan liked the clarity it provided. Solely concentrating on his target and the next hold. Everything else blurred into the background.

Plus, the effort left his body exhausted.

Logan was back in Dawn's good books after dinner at Ben's. What a wild card that was. It brought the sex back into his life for which he was glad. Other unwanted side effects came in the form of sleeping pills prescription.

And an argument over his refusal to take them.

Dating a doctor had a few advantages; the preaching wasn't one of them.

xxxxxxxx

Riding up the elevator from the parking lot to his apartment, Logan re-assessed the damage of his cuts. Some may need bandaging. The elevator routinely stopped at the lobby floor.

"Ouch, that must hurt," Rory Gilmore's boyfriend commented on his knuckles. "My fingers bled buckets when I learned to play guitar."

"Looks worse than it is. How's the band, J?" He didn't remember his name.

"Great, great. Thanks for the advice man." Joel smiled openly, "Big help."

"Sure."

The door opened on the 5th floor.

"That's your floor." Logan pointed when Joel's feet stayed rooted in the elevator.

"You seem to know her pretty well." Joel's words came out of the blue. The elevator continued its ride upstairs.

Maybe Logan under-estimated him, and the young musician was more perceptive than he assumed. The depth of his acquaintance with the younger man's girlfriend was a delicate topic.

"Excuse me?"

"Rory. You are friends."

Or maybe he wasn't. Logan twisted his mouth uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't say so." He wouldn't go out and say he and Rory Gilmore were friends. It was a little far fetched.

"I need your help." Joel looked at him hesitatingly.

"You need my help?" Logan asked for clarification. He wasn't sure how he got roped into this conversation. "With Rory?"

"She's the first girl I'm serious about, you know? She's special." The bass player stuck his hands into his pocket, rocking on his heels vulnerably, "She's not your regular high school or college girl, the usual things don't impress her."

Logan tutted, "Trust me, you don't want any women advice from me."

"No, I do. You have Quan." Joel wasn't far from pleading, "I'm so out of my depth here. Man, throw me a bone."

The kid picked up fast. It was endearing. A throwback. Like staring in the mirror at his old deliriously in love self. Not that Logan felt comfortable in his newfound position as a mentor.

The elevator opened on the penthouse floor. Logan secured his gym bag ready to make an exit.

"She likes chocolate."