AN: I gotta tell you, this chapter makes me smile. I like it a lot and I think you will too. So without any further ado, here is is...

There was a knock at the door and Logan instantly jumped up from the kitchen island where he sat staring blankly at his newspaper and nibbling on some toast. It had only been two days since he'd last seen his daughter but that was the longest he'd been away from her since he'd moved back from London.

He opened the front door, scooping the infant out of the ring sling Rory was wearing her in. "Hey there, Bean," he said, bouncing her up and down as Rory followed him into the apartment.

"You guys have a good day yesterday?" he asked Rory over his shoulder as he made his way back through the foyer towards the great room of his new apartment. Yesterday was move in day, and the first day they'd really started the new custody arrangement they'd agreed upon in mediation. It was strange not being there.

She shrugged. "I got spit up on a bunch. Did some laundry. Sang I'm a Little Tea Pot a hundred and forty-two times."

"Is that right?" Logan asked in his best baby voice, looking down at Lila. "Did Mommy sing you songs? Did she do the Little Tea Pot dance?" he asked his daughter. "Do you want to see her do it again?"

"Don't even think about it," Rory said. "There will be no more encores."

"Mommy's a spoil-sport," he continued to coo to the infant in his arm. "Uh huh, yes she is."

Rory just chuckled. "Are you laughing at me?" Logan queried in his normal voice, with mock outrage.

"It's just that I never cease to find your baby-talk ridiculously endearing; even if it will stunt our daughter's language development," she laughed.

"What?" Logan scoffed in disbelief. "I don't believe that."

"It's true," she assured him wistfully, "baby talk is bad for them."

Logan just shrugged. "Whatever—she's got your genes; she'll still probably be talking in full sentences by the time she's two. Okay, two and a half, I was a little bit of a late bloomer myself."

Rory rolled her eyes. "Feigned humbleness from the man who's fluent in five languages," Rory teased.

"You overestimate me. I'm only fluent in three," Logan corrected with a shake of his head. "I'm conversational in Spanish at best. And my German isn't even that. I learned just enough of it to get me through Oktoberfest sophomore year of college. I pretty much know 'yes', 'no', 'where's the beer?' and 'let's go back to your hotel room and have sex.'"

"The last two being phrases we will not be teaching our daughter."

"Definitely not. Although now that you mention it, I wonder what the German word for 'chastity belt' is." He brought his index finger up to his lips thoughtfully.

He could see Rory straining to keep a straight face. "You'll definitely keep her away from boys away with that attitude," she tried to placate him. "She won't have sex until she's at least 30."

"Hey, I am very intimidating," Logan insisted. "And you, little lady," he looked down at his daughter, "will not be having sex at all as long as I'm alive. And since I plan on living well past 65, I would count on your 30's being a very chaste decade."

Rory lost the internal battle and started giggling.

"Not very convincing, huh?" he asked her.

"No," she gasped for air, shaking her head.

"Eh," he shrugged, leaning casually against the sofa in the living area. "I've got time to work on it."

"You do that," she replied, setting her bag down in the corner and unzipping it. "I got you a housewarming gift," she said, standing up with a sloppily wrapped present in her hands. She shifted from foot to foot, suddenly nervous.

"You didn't have to do that," he assured her.

"Well," she chewed on her lip, her eyes on the floor. "I did, so…" she held the present out. Logan took it with a smile, then fumbled slightly, trying to juggle the gift with Lila still in his arms. Rory took her from him and Logan turned his attention back to the package, running his finger along the seam to break the tape. He unraveled the paper to reveal a ceramic pink and orange dinosaur holding a pot of gold. The figurine was hollow and there was a slot in the top of the pot.

"It's a piggy bank," Rory quickly put in. "Well, a dino bank, I guess, technically. It's Figment—you know, from Disney…Anyway, it's stupid and…"

Logan cut her off by placing a hand gently over hers. "I love it." And he did. It was cheesy and ridiculous, but in all the right ways. A trust bank. What wasn't to love? He wasn't sure what else to say. For as much as he was a man of words, there were some things that words just couldn't convey.

"So," he finally said, moving on to a new topic. "What do you think?" He held his hands out to sweep across the apartment.

Rory's eyes tracked around the room. "Nice. You got a lot done yesterday." A few unpacked boxes still littered the room and the walls were still bare, but the place was already almost completely furnished.

"Well, Honor appointed herself my own personal interior designer the second she found out I was moving back here. She wasted no time in running up a huge bill at some fancy-shmancy furniture store so pretty much everything was just waiting to be delivered. And I think Robert, Colin, and Finn worked harder than they have in their entire lives. My sister can be a real slave driver."

"Welp," Rory said with an approving nod, "I like the new digs."

Logan chuckled. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered with a mischievous grin. "It's just that you haven't even seen the bedroom yet."

"Logan Huntzberger," Rory gasped, a huge smile gracing her face. "Are you working blue?"

"Around our daughter?" he asked with mock outrage, "Never."

He watched as her face relaxed and the wave of memories flowed through her. "So," she said, her lips pursing together as her left shoulder shrugged upwards. "You really just meant you hadn't shown me bedroom yet?" she continued to tease but her voice was more wistful than playful now.

He stared silently at her, letting the moment wash over him; sweet, uncomplicated. Something had shifted after their last therapy session and here, in this new place, away from Stars Hollow and the life Rory had planned without him, it was like they could finally just…be.

The moment clung to them, just an instant passed what was comfortable, their eyes locked together. "Follow me," Logan finally said, standing up from his spot leaning against the arm rest of the couch.

"To the bedroom?" Rory asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sort of," he shrugged as he started off down the hall. He finally stopped in front of a closed door. "There was one room I told Honor she couldn't decorate." He turned the knob and opened the door.

The room was spacious, with large windows on one wall and a sliding door to a patio on another. It was empty except for a very large box on the floor.

Rory followed him in, her brow furrowing at the scene before her.

"It's Lila's nursery," he told her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I got that. What don't get is why there's an unassembled crib still in the box."

"Because," Logan informed her mater-of-factly. "You and I are going to assemble it."

Rory scoffed. "Umm, no."

"Umm, yes."

"Logan," Rory replied indignantly. "You are a freaking bazillionaire. You set our daughter up with not one, but two ten-million-dollar trust funds. The least you can do is a buy a pre-assembled crib. Or get someone who knows what they're doing to put it together."

"Come on, I think it will be good for us to work on a project together." She was right. The sensible thing to do would be to have professionals do this. He was far from the DIY kind of guy. But he supposed that was why this was so important to him. He wanted to be a hands-on kind of Dad. And he could have just assembled it himself, but he'd meant what he'd said to Rory. He remembered how they'd pulled together to get the Yale Daily News out after their breakup in college. Succeeding at something as a team had brought them closer and helped repair their rift. Coming together to work on something personal for their daughter was just what they needed to continue building back their trust.

"Not this project. This project will likely end up with us killing one another—not to mention our daughter who has to sleep in that thing."

"We can handle this; we are two ivy league graduates."

"Exactly! We graduated from Yale with journalism degrees. We did not graduate from carpentry school."

Logan laughed at her outrage. "This is not carpentry. There is no sawing or sanding, or anything of the sort. Think of it like a puzzle. You like puzzles."

"I like crossword puzzles. And those word jumbles. Even Sodoku has too much math for me."

"It comes with instructions. And you, my dear, are excellent at following instructions," he baited her.

Rory rolled her eyes with a sigh. "And you are excellent and ignoring them."

Logan nodded in agreement. "That is typically true. I'm more of a free spirit kind of guy. But if you agree to do this with me, I agree to follow all the instructions. In fact, I promise to let you be in complete charge and I will take all my instructions from you."

He saw a look flash over Rory's face. It was one he knew well, and he tried to squelch a smile at the knowledge that she'd just had a dirty thought. He could imagine what it was; while it was true that he did not normally take directions well, there were certain instances when he was more than willing to be…deferential to commands.

"Fine," she finally relented once the look had flittered away. "But if there is so much as a single extra screw when we are done, it's going in the dumpster and you are buying a professionally assembled crib. And if at any point I feel like stabbing you with a screwdriver, just remember that this was all your idea."

"Deal."

They'd been at work for about an hour. Lila was napping in the Pack-N-Play in the next room. "I need the thing-a-ma-bobby with the who-zee-whats-it that does the…" Rory made a spinning motion with her finger in the air, "twirly thing."

Logan looked down, shifting through the pile of objects in front of him, until he located a couple of Allen wrenches. He held them up. "3/8 or 1/4 inch?"

Rory looked up. "I'm not sure, gimme…" she took the wrenches from his hands and tried them out, fitting the 3/8" variety into the screw in front of her. She was halfway through tightening the mounting brackets to the mattress board when a cry reverberated through the baby monitor.

"That's her hungry cry," Rory admitted. "I guess that means it's me…"

"I could give her some of the pumped stuff you brought over," he offered.

"No, that's alright," she said, standing up off the floor. She pressed her hands over her boobs. "I think it'd be good for me too."

"Alrighty then, I guess I'll just keep working on this side frame…" Rory walked out of the room, coming back a few minutes later with Lila. She sat down on the floor in the corner, leaning back against the wall. Logan looked up as she pulled the stretchy material of her shirt and nursing bra down and Lila latched on. He forced his eyes back down to the work in front of him, not wanting to be caught staring. His eyes flickered up occasionally to see her, knees drawn up to her chest, cradling Lila in her lap as she rocked gently back and forth. She gazed intently down at their daughter.

The room was silent for a few minutes until finally he heard the beginnings of an off-key melody.

"Back when all my little goals seemed so important
Every pot of gold feeling full of distortion
Heaven was a place still in space, not in motion
But soon

I got you
I got everything
I've got you
I don't need nothing
More than you
I got everything
I've got you…"

He gave up on trying to be covert and raised his gaze to the sight of the woman he loved singing to their daughter as she breast fed. Sure, her voice was atrocious and yet he couldn't get enough.

She finally seemed to recognize that his eyes were glued to her. "What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked teasingly.

"I was just wondering if Interscope Records knows about you," he replied with a grin.

"We almost had a deal but they wanted me to give up too much of my artistic control."

"That would have been a shame."

Lila started to fuss. "She's done."

"Wanna take a break? Go for a walk?" he suggested.

"Walk where?" she asked.

"Just around. Check out the neighborhood."

Rory gasped. "You want me to walk without a destination in mind? Like-exercise?" she screwed up her face in repulsion.

"Come on, Ace," he said, piling up the remaining pieces of the crib neatly. "It'll be good for you. And if it makes you feel any better, we can walk with the intention of finding a coffee place downtown."

She didn't answer and he looked up to see what was going on. Her eyes were wide and her jaw lax. It was only then that he realized what he had said.

She shook her head breaking herself from her daze. "Umm, walk, yeah," she said as she stood up, looking anywhere but at Logan.

Logan stood up too, brushing off his pants. "Rory," he called as she headed for the door. She ignored him. "Ace," he said again, more forcefully this time. She stopped and he saw her ribcage expand as she took a deep breath before turning around.

"You said it again," she whispered.

"Yeah," he nodded his head.

"So…you don't take it back?'

"What?"

"The last time…"

His mind flashed back to that phone call when he was in London, after they'd agreed to try counseling. He'd let the nickname slip from his lips then too. It wasn't as though he'd made an official retraction, but they'd both known it was a mistake; and in case there had been any questions, he'd repeated his good-bye with her proper name.

But they'd come a long way since then. It wasn't like this one word was some magical elixir that absolved her of all her sins. But it was a step; a sign that he was letting her back in. And this time, it wasn't a mistake. It felt right.

"I don't take it back," he assured her.

She sniffled back a sob. "This is stupid," she said, shifting Lila in her arms so she could wipe away a stray tear. "It's just a word. I don't know why I'm getting so…" she flailed her arm pathetically.

"Hey," he said, taking a few steps towards her. "It's not stupid." He reached his hand up to thumb away another tear. "And it's not just a word. You and I both know that. If it was, I never would have stopped saying it." He pulled her in for a hug, Lila snuggled between them. She let her head drop to his chest as he stroked her back.

"So what does this mean?" she finally asked.

"It means…" he paused to try to figure out how to put it into words. "It means we're on the right track, I guess."

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah, Ace." He felt her lips pull up into a smile against his chest. He leaned down to press his lips softly to the top of her head.

They stayed that way for a few seconds, but Lila wasn't content with the stillness and started to fuss so finally they pulled back.

"See," he said with a smirk. "I told you putting this crib together would be good for us."

"So," she rolled her eyes. "How about that walk?"

"I can't believe you convinced me to order three pizzas." Logan said, looking down at the smorgasbord of food on his kitchen island. They had successfully put together the crib and Lila was currently fast asleep in it. They had ordered dinner and decided to watch a movie.

"We need to compare and contrast," she insisted. "I've got the pro-con list started already. Antonio's gets points for fastest delivery time. But Umberto's had the cutest delivery guy."

"And that matter's why?" Logan asked with a chuckle.

"Hey!" she scolded with a wag of her finger. "Do not question the system. It's been working for Mom and me for years."

"Right," Logan nodded. "What was I thinking?"

"Clearly you weren't."

Logan walked into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. "Well, now that all three pies are here, I guess it's time to break open this…" he pulled out a bottle of champaign.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's campaign," he stated obviously.

"I have to drive home."

"It's one glass, Ace. We have to toast to my new place and besides, by the time the movie is over, it'll be out of your system."

She glared at him. "You know, that's not going to work forever."

"What?"

"You calling me 'Ace' and getting me to do what ever you want."

Logan raised his eyebrows. "That powerful, huh?"

"For now," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well than, I better take advantage while I can…Ace," he smirked at her.

He saw her shoulder's slump in defeat. "One glass," she agreed. "But that means I'm going to have to pump and dump."

"We've got a few bottles of breast milk," he assured her. "And I have some of that organic formula if she needs more." He pulled a couple of champaign glasses out of the cabinet and set them on the counter, then grabbed the bottle and placed it against his stomach, turning the wire tab of the cork cage and releasing the cork with a pop.

Rory set the pizza out on plates while Logan poured the champagne and they headed to the living area to sit on the couch.

A little over two hours later the credits rolled on Wonder Woman. Rory had fallen asleep on his shoulder, snuggled into his side. He turned the TV off but didn't move. He just wanted to feel her in his arms. He looked down, brushing the hair off her face and he felt that light in his chest glow. Was this how it could be? Family life? He knew it was still too soon, that they still had a lot of work to do; but for the first time since he'd run into Paris in that hospital cafeteria, he had a real glimpse of what they were working towards.

He let himself be in the moment for a bit before finally, slowly, worming his way out of her embrace, trying not to wake her. Despite his best efforts, she started to rouse.

"Logan?"

"Hey," he whispered, "go back to sleep." He figured she was exhausted.

"What time is it?"

"Time to go back to sleep."

"I should get home."

"You're exhausted, you can sleep in the guest room."

"That's not how it's supposed to work," she argued.

Logan shrugged. "We made the rules. We can decide what does and doesn't break them."

She started to wake up more, shifting herself to an upright position. She seemed to contemplate his words for a few moments before shaking her head. "I don't think it's a good idea, Logan."

He let out a sigh. He knew she was right. Their day had been good, great even. But they shouldn't push it.

"I'm afraid it'll be too much too soon," she added, standing up.

He nodded in agreement. "I know."

"But…we're good?" she asked.

"Yeah, Ace," he assured her, leaning down to place a feather light kiss on her forehead. "We're good."

AN: So, how's that for a happy, fluffy chapter. A few of you mentioned you thought it was time and I couldn't agree more. Just like "Ace", this chapter isn't some magical elixir to just fix them, there's plenty more angst and fighting, and stuff to work out, but there's been a definite turning point in their relationship. So please, let me know what you think.