A/N: Thank you for being wonderful and patient.'Score' and reference list in comments section for this chapter if you're interested.
September 2013
Vancouver Island
The Ferry to Vancouver Island is like a floating mall. A food court. A gift shop. It even has an indoor playground for kids. Rory rushed her steps past it in her search for a seat. She grabbed some tourist brochures, hoping they'd reveal the clue for their destination anywhere. They are not much help; the options are repetitive and are too conventional.
Logan doesn't do conventional.
The man in question stepped away to make a call while the phone reception is still decent. He looked almost apologetic when his phone rang as they climbed up the stairs to the passenger hall.
So for now, Rory occupies herself drawing on some abandoned napkins.
She's still mad at him anyway. Logan is infuriating. It wouldn't be outrageous to say they are locked in the tempestuous phase for a while, either shouting or shagging. She doesn't know why she agrees to do either with him. Or go on this trip.
"It's the biggest I could find. I don't guarantee that it's good." Logan carefully sets a large coffee in front of her, followed by a Mars bar. "And a treat from the vending machine. Truce?"
He smiles boyishly while Rory eyes the Mars bar suspiciously, "Are you breaking up with me?"
"No. Are you breaking up with me?" He lends her logic.
"The last time you gave me a Mars bar, in a non-territorial setting, you broke up with me."
"You needed to get on that plane. I was being noble."
"It was cruel." She retorts obviously in disagreement.
"You got to be cruel to be kind, in the right measure."
It's a dick thing to say, and she tells him so.
"You would have left anyway. Just less free." Logan warps both his hands on his cup across from her, "You wanted to travel, Rory. I was building a future. I'm root, and you are driftwood. We were in different places in life."
It's a clarity that sits better with her six months after the fact. Yet she can't help with think that sometimes, most of the time, it feels they still are.
Rory doesn't like to being a driftwood.
"I got out of the lives at odds equation before; I didn't want to be there again." His ability to say so much with so little, and yet remain so unclear never cease to amaze her.
'You are exactly like her, and you don't even know it.' Ben's words still ring in her head every time Logan and her clash.
"With Chelsea."
"Yes, with Chelsea." He confirms his eyes lower to the beverage in his cup.
"What now?"
"I'm hoping you'd share that Mars bar, to be honest." He expertly avoided discussing it farther.
"Where are we going?" she means it both literally and metaphorically.
"Nowhere these refer to." Logan pointed on the brochures of Victoria and its area. His smirk tells her he enjoys keeping her in the dark. "There's a few hours drive until we get there."
You can always count on Logan to take things in their most literal way. His father sure knew him well.
"I thought the whole point is to drive and land someplace we've never been and never expected to be."
"It was just a way to get you to come. But who said we aren't?" His eyes glitter, "We're going Glamping."
"I'm not sleeping in a tent!" Rory protested.
"You and Colin get on fantastically well, don't you?" Logan asks, amused, "Oh, by the way, this thing is more than overnight. Did I mention that before?"
Rory's eyes narrowed. No, he didn't. So Lorelai of him. Her L's were more alike than Rory liked to admit.
"Oh, must have slipped your mind." She deadpans.
"Didn't screw up anything for you, does it?" He teased.
"No." She's not going to give him the satisfaction that she'd chosen him over other plans.
"No?" She was so easily goaded. "Um, loose schedule. Good."
"You can dream of getting your hands on that Mars bar, Huntzberger."
He doesn't look too surprised at her aggression. "What's up with the napkins?"
"Nothing," Rory says quickly, unluckily failing to secure them all out of his prying hands.
"Washed sperm. That's funny." He chuckles at the contoured image of a sperm taking a shower, equipped with a shower hat on and a sponge, "You drew this? Are there any more of these hiding there?"
Rory shrugs bashfully.
"Aren't you full of surprises," He smirks beckoning his fingers at the other napkins, "Well, let me see."
~w~
"Are we there yet?" Rory hopefully asks when Logan parks the SUV in the parking space. It was getting dark already.
How different her Friday night was turning out to be.
"No. Just a stop in the way." Logan unbuckled his seat belt and exited the car without another word.
She hates when he does that.
"For food?" She's hungry. The smell of the sea, salt, and a hint of fish and chips assaulted her nose when she followed. She spies a few eateries, shops, and the pier. "Where are we?"
"Cowichan Bay. I'll feed you later. You might get sick." He opens the trunk of the car, unzipping one of the bags and starts rummaging through, "Dress warmly. Don't take your camera; it'll get wet, and your hands will be busy. We're taking to the sea."
"But it's dark."
"It's a full moon tonight. But that's what we have these for." He waves two head-lights at her excitedly.
The way he moves is like a full-on rain-storm. He's the kind of reckless that should send her running. But she knows by now she never gets far when she tries, because sparks fly whenever he smiles.
Rory follows Logan's confident lead down to a small cabin at the edge of the pier. A pair of gloves stick out from the back pocket of his jeans. They fit him perfectly and look well-worn. She didn't even know Logan owned a pair of jeans. She mostly sees him in a work-related setting or straight afterward. His casual look usually involves chinos.
His hands immediately feel for something above the wooden storage door.
"What are you looking for?" It's chilly, and she's glad he made her cover-up.
"Ah-ha!" He calls in triumph the small metal shine in his hand. "The key."
"Are we stealing a boat?" she stands back as he fumbles with the lock.
"A kayak." He corrects, "And no, we are not stealing, I paid."
The storage door soon opens, and he finds the little light, revealing a neat line of paddles, stocked single kayaks, and a stack of life-vest. Other sailing stuff she's not familiar with. Logan headed straight for the life-vests. The next thing she knows, he adjusts the straps and snaps the buckles on her.
"Hold this." Logan trusts a paddle and an additional life-vest into her hand.
Rory watches him lower down a double kayak from the stand outside the cabin. He carries it over to the water's edge, placing it down on the wooden raft.
"Um, Logan," She stands awkwardly on the pier, paddle in hand, "Kayaking is a sport. A Gilmore girl doesn't engage in any sporting activity."
"First time for everything." He moves to stand behind her, correcting her holds on the paddle. "Okay, quick lesson. The long edge of the blade should be on top. Make sure the scooped part is facing you. Don't hold too tight, or your hands will hurt."
If it weren't for the life-vest, he'd be extremely close.
"You row the paddle like you're drawing an eight shape. You'll get the hang of it pretty quickly. If you want to slow down, paddle backward, or you want to make a turn, just tell me. I'll be doing all the steering anyways."
"Um. But –"
"I'll guide you through it. Don't worry." He says, adjusting his life-vest, "Now get in the front seat, I need to adjust the lengths of the footholds to fit you in."
"I'm not getting in that thing. It's just inflated plastic; we'll drown if I get into that thing. Trust me; I'm bad luck. And I'm pretty bad at sport."
"You never kayaked before, didn't you?"
"If my mother will know that I engaged in a sporting activity… she'll…"
"She'll what?" The headlight he wears points at her, "It's not a sport. It's a recreation. Leisure activity."
Lorelai will be appalled, and she'd talk up a storm, and mock, and that's pretty much it.
"It is in the Olympics Games?" She challenged not ready to give in yet.
"Yes." He answers.
"Then, it's a sport." Rory insists.
"Rory. I swear to god, get in the kayak, or I'll throw you in the water." He warns. "You're taking out all the fun."
"You wouldn't dare." She sneered at him.
"Oh, I would. And the water's cold. Don't test me."
xx
"See! you're getting good at it!" Rory seriously doubted the compliment. She found the paddling a struggle. Logan was doing most of the work, manhandling the kayak in the back seat of the double.
"No, I'm not." He was just playing nice. If he stops counting, she messes up the rowing rhythm.
The water in the bay is a flat mirror of a million stars night. The dark mass of water glimmered under the moonlight. Yellow window's light symbols the houses on the shore. The silver lining of the moon's reflection on the water it takes her breath away.
Rory was never one overly impressed by panoramic views; she was more into looking at details.
"Let's drift a bit, give your arms a rest." Rory's relief matched the gentle lull of the water against the kayak. Her arms were getting tired. She sneaks a glance over her shoulder.
Logan balances his paddle horizontally on the kayak, staring at the stars. Rory copies his stances and wiggles in her seat, trying to get more comfortable.
"Hey!" He hits her lightly with the paddle, "No sharp movements! You'll flip us over."
"It'll be like in the Little Mermaid. All we are missing is a Red Lobster singing."
She hears Logan chuckle behind her, "You know, I'm starting to see some advantages to a girl losing her voice. It doesn't ruin the moment."
They continue to drift in silence. She is driftwood floating on the water. Drifting feels less intimidating now when she's with him.
"Sweep your paddle in the water." He says out of the blue.
"What?" she jarred out her thoughts. The water looks darker; they had drifted farther away from any human-induced light, farther away from the boats in the pier: just the moon and their headlights.
"Sweep it." He encourages, and Rory dips her paddle in the water.
The water glows in neon blue, where her paddle touch. A trail of blue-ish dotted light turns into strings, like blue glitters flying in the water. Rory's eyes widen with amazement. "Oh my god! What the…?"
"Do it again." Logan reaches out his paddle as far as he can, sweeping an arc in the water. It glows again. As if the water is filled with under-water fireflies. "Amazing. Isn't it?"
Rory stares at the strange magic. It's startling and stunning at the same time, "What is that?"
"Sea Sparkle." His voice is full of awe. "I wanted to see it for so long; I never got here at the right time of year."
"Sea Sparkle?" Rory stutter in disbelieve. She wishes she didn't listen and brought her camera. This is probably the strangest and most romantic experience she ever had.
How can something so small and so trivial create something so magnificent?
"Bio-luminescent allege. They glow when disturbed; it's an instinct chemical reaction." Logan explains, excitement laced in his voice. "You're ready to paddle? There are billions in the water. We're going to light them up."
She can't imagine anything else more worthy of breaking the Gilmore rule book for, except this man.
~w~
She never even stop to look around when the car finally park and Logan points at the door leading to their final destination. It's pretty dark, and Rory desperately needs to pee. She beelines to the washroom.
Only when she steps out of the small washroom, she pays attention to detail. The light is dimmed inside the round the structure; it's like an Igloo. Or like a hobbit house. A pod. Little Christmas lights. Some other soft hidden lighting. Wooden floor.
But the most dominant features are the panoramic window and the queen size bed facing it.
There, on the bed, Logan is sprawled on top of the covers. She hardly thinks his stillness is intentional.
"Logan," she whispers, stroking the hair of the man passed out on the bed. He stirs at her touch.
"Twenty minutes, and I'm good as new." He mumbles, eyelids full of sleep.
"Maybe you should at least get out of the damp clothes." Rory smiles tenderly; he looks exhausted. She nearly forgot that he woke up today in New York, flew across the country to Seattle, and drove over six hours, getting them to here.
Where here was she doesn't know. She has fallen asleep in the car and missed the signs.
He answers something muffled, and Rory realizes she'd have to take matters into her own hands. So she starts with his jeans.
"I knew you wanted to get your hands on me, Gilmore." His drawl is playful.
She does. But there's no way he can deliver. "No, I meant, change into something more comfortable, or…"
"Pajamas are for sissies." He can barely resist sleep but co-operates enough to let her take his jeans off. His pullover follows.
"Go to sleep, Logan." She pulls the covers from under him.
"I can't sleep." He says drowsily with his eyes closed. "I need my sleeping pills."
Rory is surprised. But then again, she realizes that they only sporadically went to sleep together without falling into bed first. Each time that happened, he was extremely restless, and Rory always woke up alone. She always thought it was due to avoidance. Maybe it wasn't just that.
This new revelation explains a lot.
"I think tonight - you're good." She stroked his hair again; he sighs contently, leaning into her touch.
She smiles to herself.
Rory doesn't know what to think of this man. This complicated riddle of a man. Is this a lasting treasure? Or just a moment's pleasure? Can she believe the magic in his sigh?
Logan is spattering clues at her, giving her sneak peeks of feelings. Then he takes them away by changing the rules. It's awfully confusing.
She knows her camera loves him. She thinks she loves him too.
But there's this constant nagging voice that keeps asking, will he still love her tomorrow?
Xx
"It's still dark, Logan," Rory mumbled when he gently shakes her awake.
"Not for long, come on." He whispers, "You can sleep when you're dead."
He drags her out of bed, blanket in toe, setting them both on the wooden floor to its foot. Her back settle against his chest. The last fading twinkle of stars displayed in the enormous panoramic window.
"You don't sleep much, do you?" She enjoys the heat radiating from him.
"Four hours a night. If I'm lucky."
"Like Clinton. I need my camera." She untangles herself to retrieve it just in time to snap the first thin line of daybreak hit the water. The light slowly washes the water with color, revealing the bay and the small islands spotting the view. A water-plane sky on the water taking off.
The pod is right at the water. All she sees is the sea.
Rory lays her head in the crook of his neck. The blanket wrapped around them.
"Not what you expected is it?"
"No, not at all what I expected." She admits. When he said Glamping, she didn't imagine this romantic glam. She was starting to stress about bug spray.
"Let me guess what you were thinking: sleeping bags, flashlights, a pack of beer, stable Triscuits, half-eaten pack of Oreo's, some Doritos, and a bong." He teases.
"That may be exactly what I pictured."
"You can apologize later." He said with a smile in his voice, "Not everything that applies to Ben applies to you."
"So, no cuddling with Ben?"
"Nah, mostly hand-holding." He jokes lightly, his fingers playing with hers.
"How come us doing anything in Seattle is a big no-no and a huge secret. But you're cool with being business partners for life?" She alludes to their agreement.
"You're not my business partner, Rory." He says seriously.
Rory's heart race, or maybe it's the addition of his pumping against her back. She can't quite tell.
"I'm not your friend, either." She says as the natural daylight creeps into their bubble.
"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life," He mutters into her hair, "Let's… let's not define this quite yet, okay?"
If it built like a bubble, it looks like a bubble and feels like a bubble. Maybe Rory doesn't want to pop the bubble just yet. She drops the subject.
"Logan, where are we?"
"Tofino, British Columbia." His voice achieved new lightness, "You know what's west of here?"
"No, what?" She looks at him curiously.
"Japan! This is the end of the earth." He sounds so pleased then he breaks distance. "But we gotta hit the trails; the weather says it's going to rain later."
~w~
"Do you have any fours?" Rory questioned, sitting Indian style on the bed.
By Saturday noon, they are rained in, and the deck of card they found supplies some entertainment. After a few rounds of 'Whist' and 'Spades,' they resorted to 'Go Fish.' The rain knocks persistently on the top of the glam-camping pod. It runs pouring down on the panoramic window displaying the bay.
"Go fish," Logan answers in a bored tone. He is lying flat on his back, head resting in his hands. His pile of cards rested on his chest. "I could teach you poker, you know."
"You didn't even look." Rory accused.
"I don't have to look. I know I don't have any fours, and I know you have at least two, if not three of them."
"Did you peek at my cards?"
"You keep asking me for fours." He gave her a side look. "You know, you don't have to play money; we can make it the interesting version."
His offer was shut-down immediately, again, "I'm not playing strip poker with you."
Logan sighed, "Do you have any queens?"
"Go fish."
"Let's go to the beach." He suggests, "I need to get back outdoors."
"But we're in the middle of a game, and it's raining."
"So? Are you made of sugar?" her peers at her, his features slowly turning reflective. "Rory, do you like the rain?"
"I don't mind it."
"Do you like Ben?" is his next question.
Rory chewed her lip; she used to. Ben is a decent guy; he helped with the comics for a while; he allowed her to take time off when she needed it. He was a great boss until things tangled up with Logan. Ben only spat out his claws when it comes to Logan.
Come to think of it, he warned her.
"He's very protective of you."
"Ben is protective of Current." Logan chuckles coyly, "Do you like working at Current?"
"Not on the days, Ben's an ass, and you're a jerk." Mostly she did, "Why do you ask?"
"Because people are starting to ask questions. I told Ben off for chewing you out, so he has been patient with you playing hooky. But…" He paused, she's not going to like it, "You are kinda stretching it… This needs to be kept quiet."
Rory lowered her cards, "You're such a hypocrite."
"How am I a hypocrite?"
"There is no 'no dating policy' at Current. You don't have any problem with Patel and Nicole smooching; Nicole said you didn't care."
"I do have a problem with office smooching, I've made it perfectly clear to everybody involved." He responds, "Let's not talk about work. Any Sevens?"
"What? how can we not talk about work?"
"Fine." He threw his cards on the bed, pulling himself up, "Let's talk about work. Let's talk of how obliviously ignorant you are about the big picture or the fact that this is an extremely complex situation."
"I'm not ignorant."
He starts pacing, looking for something to twirl in his hand. The headlights seem to cut it. Rory is quick to capture the change in his demeanor.
"Don't take my picture." It only flares him further.
"It's in the contract." She states. "It's not complicated, Logan. You make it complicated. You and your obsessive need to keep things separated!"
"Of course, it has to be separated! Don't you get what enormous potential for a sexual harassment lawsuit this is? It can completely sink us under."
"I'm not going to sue you, Logan. You're not even my direct boss. We're not even regularly sleeping together!" She snaps at him.
"You say that now, but you don't know." Logan counters pointedly, "It's a huge risk I'm taking here. Ben is far from happy for it, and I can't blame him. There's nothing I can say to reassure him because I already betrayed my promise to him on that matter. More than once."
"What do you mean?"
"It doesn't matter." He deflects her question, "Putting that aside, you are naïve to think that people knowing will not change anything."
"It won't. And it does matter."
"Really? Wanna bet?" He challenges twirling the flashlight by its band, "Do you think people are going to act normal around you once they know? That they won't think twice? People are going to censor everything they say around you and to you. You think they won't be scared that it might land on the boss's ear whom you conduct pillow talk with?"
"Don't be ridiculous." She hears herself say not as confidently as she wished.
"What about promotions? Huh? What about salary raise? Have you thought what are the consequences of that?" Logan is on a roll, "Everything will be tainted, whether you earned it rightfully or not. It means every project, every client you work with, every letter of recommendation, every extended lunch break. It will always look like you got it because you're fucking the boss."
"I don't think the girls at work will have a problem with my lunch break perks, Logan."
"Rory." He doesn't find it funny, "I'm not great at being noble. That is what it's like in the real world. Your friends are not my only employees."
"I don't care what people say."
"You'd care when the topic of conversation at the water cooler is our sex life."
"I hate to break it to you, Logan. Your sex life is pretty much the center of every lunch break; your office manager is obsessed with it. Mine is discussed over three coffee breaks. It might actually raise productivity if it ties up just to one conversation a day."
"I'm not joking. This is serious."
"You're really good at telling me you don't want to date me. That's fine. I get it, but you don't get the right to throw a jealous fit. We have a deal."
"I never said that I don't want to date you. I said, I can't. There's a huge difference."
"There's no difference at all." Rory Gilmore feels suddenly brave by his little giveaway, "I'm not gonna work at Current forever!"
"Neither am I!" He snaps at her. It's like a stretch on a vinyl record.
"What do you mean?" She's flustered with the speed the conversation turned, "You own it."
"Current is Ben's dream come true. New York is the end game for me."
'How do you like New York, Rory?' Mitchum's Huntzberger words sprong in her head. Was that what he meant? Was that the reason Colin's star ended in New York?
"So, what's the problem?" She wished her voice didn't sound so small.
"Being with me has other consequences as well. Huntzberger implications." Logan continues carefully, "I don't want you to get sucked in it, I told you that in New York. If this is under the radar, I can control it better. I don't want to hold you back."
'Logan bends quite a lot of rules for you. And if Logan is willing to risk clashing with Ben then…' Colin's insights flood up by association with rules. Mitchum's too: 'He never fails to bend the rules.'
"Your family isn't even in the business of what I want to do!"
"Rory, I doubt my father failed to imply how influential the Huntzberger name during your little chat." Logan sighed at the uneasy look on her face, "Especially in New York. You have to let me play this by my rules. Until I figure it out."
"Let's go to the beach." Suddenly she needs outdoors too. All this sudden candidness is so overwhelming.
"But, it's raining." The camera captures his deflated stand.
Her blues eyes look at him, vulnerably, "I'm sure you'll think of something."
~w~
The prompted up trunk door of the SUV serves a protective roof from the wind and the rain. Rory and Logan sit in the back cabin watching Strom-surfers ride the rainy waves at Long Beach, drinking local beer and smoking a joint.
"Finn always wanted to do that," Logan says, gesturing at the sportive silhouettes.
"How is Finn experiencing magical family life?" It seems like so long ago that she was his wedding photographer. But only three years have passed since the day Rory Gilmore first laid her eyes and her lens on Logan Huntzberger.
It's kind of funny how entwined their lives are while they are trying so hard to keep them artificially separated. Logan's best friend is her mother's business partner. His parents are what society calls family friends. Her grandmother is friends with his ex-mother in law.
It's only a chance that they've never met at Yale.
If they had, he would have never looked her way anyway. Rory wasn't part of his usual crowd.
Logan shrugged, suckling on the joint. "Colin says he loves it."
"You're not talking?"
"We talk. We just don't talk about that." There are hints of envy in his voice. Logan alternates the joint with the beer, "I told you, I'm not great at being noble."
"Because of your New York baby?" She asks gently.
"Colin is a real blabbermouth. He told you everything, didn't he?" Logan swallows the beer with effort, "Should have been born by now. I could have been a dad."
Rory feels a pang in her heart. This weekend set in motion because she denied him a chance to become a dad. She doesn't regret it for a minute; it was the right thing to do - for HER.
But if Current is Ben's dream come true, Rory is no longer in doubt that becoming a dad is Logan's.
Rory blows the smoke into the chilly air. It swirls slowly.
"What happened in New York? What was the big crisis?" She dreaded asking. Rory Gilmore is a top-honors graduate of Christopher Hayden's academy of broken promises and half-hearted excuses. She has heard them all.
He promised he'd been there on time, and he lied.
"Chelsea overdosed." He says quietly, looking straight ahead to the waves.
Rory's eyes snap sharply to his profile, "What..? Your ex-wife Chelsea?"
"It's not the first time." he adds, "That's all you need to know."
"Why do you always do that?" She can't help the frustration out of her tone, "Why everything is always on a need to know basis with you?"
"I don't see you giving anything personal back." He gives her a dirty look as and his jaw hardens. "Rory, let's not tell our sad stories. I want to keep you and her separated."
"You want to keep everything separated."
Logan looked at her pained. Keeping things separated always served him well. Yet trying to keep things separated with Rory Gilmore, even if it's for her own good, somehow only ends up with a fight.
The wind killed the joint.
"I'll take you getting mad at me for anything, but you can't be mad at me for that. I don't expect you to understand, but you don't get to be included in that a part of my life. Ever."
"Because that's not the rule of a business partner." She deadpans.
"You're not my business partner, Rory. How many times to I have to say it for you to actually get it?"
"I'm not?" The venom hangs from her question.
"No," He says after a while, "You're my baby-partner."
"Baby partner." She's not satisfied with that definition either. It sounds like a carefully crafted language manipulation, "You make it sound like a partner in a joint venture."
"It is a joint venture." He rolls his eyes, "We're talking about joint custody."
"Yes, a fifty-fifty venture, equal shares." Her tone drips of sarcasm.
"If you want to put it that way." He says carefully, and she gets the feeling he's not pleased with the terminology. "I didn't make you do this. It was your idea. If you want out, now is the time to say so."
"Wasn't that the logic?"
"What logic?"
"If we're equal partners with a negotiated and legally binding contract, something that is entirely separate from Current, then legally speaking, you're not just my boss." It suddenly dawns at her, "That's how you rationalized it. That's the loophole out of being my boss, isn't it? Is that why you wanted it in writing?"
"Partly." He says vaguely.
"Baby partner." She weights the words on her tongue. It feels nice. Nicer than a business partner. Much nicer than falling in the definition of his occasional bed-guest. "I like that."
Baby-partner. Rory likes this term better. She loves the way his mind works with words.
"Me too. If you're still on board." He drops the end of the joint into the empty bottle of beer.
"I don't know if I want to do this anymore." It feels like a burden off her shoulders to finally say that out loud.
"I know."
The thing is, Rory doesn't know what happens to them if she's out. At the same time, the thought of having anyone else as her baby's daddy equally breaks her heart and terrifies her.
"What now?" She asks when the heavy silence stretches between them.
"Now, we just take it in," Logan says softly, his eyes fixed on the view of the setting sun on the edge of the world.
She doesn't know if he means the sunset or her admission. He's an expert at dodging and cutting conversations short.
"It's beautiful here." The camera snaps the picture of a vibrant pacific ocean through the raindrops.
"There's no place like the Island. It's my favorite place in the whole world."
She fires a flash at him, "You've been here before."
"No. First time."
Rory gives a small eye roll.
"First time with you."
His boyish smile escapes. He so charming when he wants to be.
~w~
"What is it like to have a sister?" Rory lies upside-down on the bed. "I mean I have a half-sister, she's my dad's. But she's much younger than I, and we didn't grow up together…"
"Honor's bossy. And interfering." And he loves her for it, "It's a pain in the ass."
Logan sits at the foot of the bed, checking his messages.
"Are you working?"
"Just checking my messages. I can't go AWOL for too long." It reminds her this experience is temporary.
"It's the weekend." Rory's face break into a silly smile, "Did she made you play dress up?"
"Afraid so."
"Mom and I used to play dress-up all the time. We used to put pillowcases on our heads and pretended we're getting married. I think she enjoyed it more than I did." She mused, giggling, "Are there any pictures?"
"God, I hope not." He cocked his head at her, entertained by her giggly form. The second joint really got to her. Rory Gilmore is chatty under the influence, he nearly forgot. "You okay there?"
It's yet another thing she only feels good about doing when she's with him. No judgment. He took her weed-smoking virginity that night at the alley. First times are always special.
"The room feels a little swashy." She's the driftwood.
"It's 'cause you're upside down. Maybe you should eat something." He says concerned.
Logan is sweet like Bear Paw. "I want a Bear Paw."
"Only Oreo's left, I'm afraid."
"Do you remember the night at the pyramid?" Maybe she's not too bothered about food after all.
"Yes."
"My mom and I didn't speak for months after that night."
"Why?"
"Lots of reasons." She whispers as if it's a secret. Because Lorelai is judgmental, and Rory isn't living up to her mother's expectations. Because of her dad. "Because of you."
"Me? What does it have to do with me?"
"I don't want you just for the weekend." Rory breaths. She wants him to see her like no one before.
"There's always Monday. That's half the week." He strokes her hair affectionately, "I'm on and off in New York until Thanks Giving, but after that, it's Seattle nearly full time."
It feels like a win.
"How come?" Rory rolls into her stomach, leaning on her elbows. It doesn't add up with his earlier revelation about his New York end game.
"I worked it out with my father." Logan lays his head back on the bed. In her state, he doesn't think it's wise to push the conversation into the real reason he bargained his father for.
"For real?" Her insecurities show, "You also said it's your priority and that you'd be there on time. And you didn't."
"Yes." One syllable man.
Past experience taught Rory not to count on well-presented plans. They can be deflated easily. If Christopher Hayden had a dollar every time he delivered a relatively convincing excuse or relayed heart-felt apology supposedly – he could double his not-so-little fortune.
"That's a lot of Mondays." She says carefully.
"A girl has got to eat." It's impossible not to kiss his brilliant smile.
~w~
Logan's phone code is 2-1-0-6.
"What's the date stand for?" Rory asks in the passenger seat a large bag of flavored chips in her lap. They are waiting for the road construction to clear.
"The summer solstice. The longest daylight day of the year." It's also the date of his wedding day, but he leaves that out.
The radio signal is weak, and the soundtrack for their Sunday drive back south is supplied by his phone. Rory hogged his I-tunes, saying she wanted to pick his musical mind. Logan hits the skip button on the steering wheel every time the first notes of a Phil Collins song comes on.
He also skips Stereophonic's Dakota.
Rory says it's cheating, but he can't listen to them while she's in the car.
"Don't you have AC/DC?"
"Do I look like an AC/DC kind of guy?" Logan leans his elbow on the driver seat window, cradling his head in his palm, watching the blocked road.
"AC/DC's Highway To Hell is a road trip classic! You can't do without it!" Rory says, "When my mother got cold feet the night before her wedding to Max, we had to suffer Country Radio the whole road trip because she forgot her tunes."
"Tom Petty's Free Falling," He says after a while, "That's a real road trip classic."
Rory puffed, "No, it isn't."
"It is. Even Cameron Crowe thinks so." Logan drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Why did she get cold feet?"
"Because of my dad. It's always because of my dad." She doesn't know if she speaks of her mother or herself. A moment later, Rory sneaked a side glance at his profile, "Why me?"
"What do you mean?" The whole weekend feels like they are conducting one long conversation in intervals. Or many conversations over-due.
"If this is so complicated as you say. Why me? I know, for a fact, that you don't lack prospects."
"Rumor has it you're not trying to land me, you're just using me for sex." He gives a cheeky smile.
"You shouldn't listen to rumors." Rory stuffed her face with some more chips. There was only one person who could relay the message to him, and she knows who it was.
"You didn't need a rope."
"What?"
"The night of the planetarium. At my parent's house, you didn't need a rope." He catches her eye briefly in the rear-view mirror, "I hate that house. I don't even know why I took you there. I rarely spend the night there."
"Because New York was too far away." Her citing his reason from that night make a small smile creep on his lips. He wanted to re-cash on the magic as soon as possible that night. "Was there a rope?"
"There's always a rope."
"What if I needed a rope?"
"I would have taken you home." He would give her an out if she needed one.
The traffic starts moving again.
"Why me?" Logan asked.
Rory shrugged, "You look like the guy who'd tango in a gas station."
Logan laughs, "I look like the guy who'd dance in a gas station? You're something else."
"I like my version better. Chips?" She angles the package towards him.
He shakes his head. Logan doesn't like flavored chips, "Can I ask you something else?"
She looks at him with interest.
"Where's my golf club?"
Xx
They are nearly at the ferry when Logan navigates the car to the nearest gas station. "Do we need gas? Didn't we filled it up before we started driving?"
They've been driving all day. It was already dark. The moon looked a little less full than it did two nights ago. Rory half was eager to get back to Seattle because it means getting out of the car. Half of her heart is anxious to know this magical getaway coming to an end.
She didn't know which Logan she's meet in Seattle on Monday.
"No. Get out of the car." Logan disconnected his phone from the sound system. The car door soon slammed behind him.
Oh, she hates when he does that thing when he takes the lead and expects her to follow. She glances at the clock digits displayed in the car.
"Logan, what the hell! We're going to miss the Ferry." She goes around the front where he's trying to set his phone still.
"And?" He grabs her hand and twirls her closer. His eyes are glinting with a challenge.
Rory's lips stretch into a lovesick smile when the first bass notes play, and Van Morrison's drawl kicks in in Moondance. Maybe Kate was only jokingly quoting Taylor Swift, but it doesn't change the fact that Taylor knows what she's talking about.
He takes her hand and drag her head-first fearless.
"It's not October."
"I can't tango either. Just shut up."