AN: Hello to my very very patient readership. I've been unwell for a while and needed to caught up with my RL and crafting this has taken some time. I have no idea how many people are actually reading this but never in my wildest dreams did I expect to reach 500+ reviews. I want to thank again to all of you who review, favorite, follow, the silent readership and to all those who comes back to this story again and again.
February 2014
Seattle
"Put the camera down, or I'm not doing it." Logan kneels in front of her thigh, holding the syringe in his hand.
"I'm documenting everything. Including the injections. Come on." Rory sat on the edge of the bed, her eye pressed to the lens. She spread her legs for better access. He can see her lacey black underwear peeking under the skirt pushed high on her thigh. She staged the whole photo to the small details. "You want a kid or not?"
"Not like this, I don't." Their eyes meet their wants battling. "This is over-excessive documentation. This is a private moment."
"You're not even in the picture."
"It's my hand holding the syringe."
"It's in the contract, remember? Anywhere, anytime. Just stick the needle, Logan. I waxed for this."
Logan pursed his lips and put the plastic cap back on the needle. "No. Do it yourself. I'm not taking any part in this demented idea."
Rory lowered the camera slowly. She hated the needles. "You're not serious."
"Watch me." He stood up, taking the syringe with him to the bathroom.
"But –" Rory started to protest following him. Logan leaned his hands on the sink counter, looking at her through the mirror. The shadow on his face told her he wouldn't budge on this. "Fine. Then move."
Rory placed the Canon on the marble and started to take her clothes off. Once in her sexy underwear, she picked it up again, playing with the timer setting.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm doing this myself." She stated stubbornly. She uncapped the needle and stared at it with dread for a minute. There was a reason Logan was the one giving the shoots. When he was out of town, she'd go down to the clinic so that a nurse would do it. "I set the timer for a minute. Step aside if you don't want to be in the picture."
He shook his head disapprovingly at her but left the room. In the mirror, she could see he never went farther than the bed. She sees his funky socks sticking out over the edge. She pinched the skin in her stomach. She would have preferred shooting the thigh to avoid showing the blue spots under her bellybutton from the previous injections.
Rory closed her eyes and injected the medication into her flesh. The Camera automatically snapped a series of sequential shots. Done, Rory threw the empty syringe into the trash and picked up the camera, and stepped back out into the bedroom.
"You okay?" Logan asked from his position lying on the bed. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.
She switched the camera into display mode to look at her handy work. "Uff. It's all blurred; we have to take another shot tomorrow. Maybe it's better to use a tripod and the shutter clicker."
He looked at her with evident discontent, "We are doing nothing of that sort."
~w~
"You need to fire your assistant. She is a useless source of information; we've been waiting for over an hour. Natalie always knows where you are." Finn sat crossed-legged on the yellow couch, bouncing his tennis ball up in the air.
Finn was the last man Logan expected. And he wasn't alone.
"She knows what I want her to know." Logan countered back simply. Logan lived by that logic for most of his life. Shiri didn't need to know he was depositing his sperm at the clinic during his late lunch break.
"Don't we all," Colin commented dryly. His hands shaped diamond behind his back as he stood looking at the line of music records hanging on Logan's wall. He pointed at the Van Morrison one. "Care to explain?"
No, Logan didn't care to explain.
"What's with the tie?" Finn aimed another question at Logan.
From the corner of his eye, Logan could see Shiri ears adjust like spy satellites. She leaned back in her chair so far he was sure she'd fall off her chair any minute. To her disappointment, Ben ushered himself in, closing the glass door behind him.
"He got a hickey the size of Montana on his collar."
"It's not the size of Montana." Logan graced his business partner with a pointed look. Priz spotted the love bite on Logan's neck the minute he took off his scarf on Thursday. An unfortunate side effect of a quick rendezvous in the shower. Rory had every intention to take advantage of the narrow window of time the doctors did allow sexual activity. Her recent discovery that sex lulled him for a few hours of un-medicated sleep fueled her newfound friskiness
Ben and Priz mercilessly teased him throughout dinner. Logan's only payback pleasure was watching Ben awkwardly to explain to Miealla what a hickey is. The brown-haired man stuttered a scrambled explanation about vampires, and things she'll understand when she's old enough.
Miella argued she's six. Ben came to the concluding instruction that from now on, she was not allowed to play with boys. Ever. Logan smirked at his friend. He did not handle that well.
"Oh my. The little vixen." Finn grinned amused.
Logan blushed. His bruise was healing, but the only way to hide it was to button his shirt all the way up properly. Buttoned up shirt looked ridiculous without a tie. Tie without a jacket looked gay. Logan ended up dressing like he was heading into the New York office.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's your birthday, of course. Would you rather not spend it with us?"
"It's not my birthday yet. You're a few days early."
"Since you couldn't possibly getaway, we thought we'd trade Aspen for Whistler this year." The lawyer's eyes fall on Logan's bad wrist. "But I see you're inadequate for skiing. Maybe, if you weren't over exhausting the organ…" Colin implied cheekily. The lawyer's hand makes a stable and quick gesture of handwork. Additionally, his eyes lowered towards his friend's private organs.
"It takes longer to heal than I thought. The inflammation took forever to die down. I'm getting old." Logan flexed and stretched his wrist. "And I use my other hand."
"Colin, you owe me a fifty. This is the easiest money I've ever made." Finn waved the money transacted from Colin into his wallet, "I'm sure she'd give you a hand if you asked. So pack your bags. Off to Canada we go! You can still play poker with that hand, don't you?"
"Now?"
"No time like the present!" Finn announced.
Logan quickly exchanged a cautious glance with Ben. His hesitation was not lost.
"Ben's coming too. He doesn't trust us to bring you back in one piece." Colin raised his eyebrows at Logan daring. "In Omnia Paratus."
"Something tells me our boy had other plans for his birthday, Colin. Maybe a private party with the little vixen girlfriend of his."
"Baby partner." Logan corrected without a beat. The other three men returned him a tired look, and Ben added an eye roll for emphasis. Logan's insistence on the terminology was exhausting.
"Whatever. I'm wounded, Logan. Is he always like this? Has he lost all his vivacious personality?" Finn asked Ben. Ben nods, humoring the dramatic Australian. "What plans could you possibly have that out do my exquisite company?"
"I have this thing tomorrow. At the clinic." Logan involuntary revealed.
"You're not allowed in the room anyway. It makes no difference if you sit fiddling with your wedding ring sitting outside the exam room, or at the poker table." Colin pointed out.
"Colin." Ben shoot the lawyer a 'what the hell?' look. Sometimes it seemed like Colin left his tact hanging in the back of his expensive suit wardrobe. Or he simply didn't care.
"I'm allowed in the room," Logan argued. Tomorrow was egg retrieval, and he's going to be there, even if he has to glue himself to the chair. No one was going to ruin it for him. Not even his best friends and their best intentions.
"Fine. Finish your business first; we can go afterward. Ben, tell your wife I'm inviting myself over to dinner." Colin announced as a matter of fact. "Is Rory's coming? Or do baby partners are strictly wined and dined privately on Mondays?"
Logan pressed his lips together. He forgot Colin knew the inner details of their contract. Ben smirked teasingly. Priz has been trying to make him bring her along for months now. Logan has flat out refused.
"She's busy," Logan said through his teeth. The last time Rory had dinner with someone of the core circle of his acquaintances messed up things royally. And things were shaky as it is lately.
Xx
Rory played with the remote shutter release nervously. The canon clicked from its place on the tripod she set up. She knew the camera would catch the slit of her bareback. Hospital gowns are the most hideous, unpractical piece of clothing in the world.
"What kind of photography you do?" The doctor opted for small talk.
"Mostly stills. I'm getting into films now. I used to do weddings." Rory clasped the remote control, "It's okay that I'm shooting this, right?"
Dr. Pence shrugged, "I must say, while some people asked before, no one has ever set up the room with three cameras."
Logan was late. Whatever forms they suddenly wanted him to sign at the clinic front desk was taking forever. They hardly exchanged any words on their way to the clinic. Rory suspected Logan had a hangover. Colin and Finn were in town.
"It's usually the husband too." Ashley, the nurse, was checking her vitals. "Why so nervous today?"
Rory's eye studied Ashley's flawless hair. Not a hair out of place in her loose blonde bun. The dyed blonde carer squeezed her forearm as she took off the blood pressure band.
"Alright. Should we start?" Dr. Pence was slowly arranging his tray of tools.
"Can we wait for a few more? Logan's coming." Rory asked apprehensively. She hoped Logan wouldn't notice the camera until after they are well under the procedure. Logan wouldn't throw a hissy in front of a crowd. Or leave in the middle. But Sony is timed, and every minute he's late, the odds are against her.
"What kind of work does Logan do?"
"He's in media," Rory answered vaguely. She didn't quite know what kind of work he did for his father. Aside from the glimpse earned at his father's birthday party, Logan always remained quite tight-lipped about his life in New York. Rory guessed you could say Current was in the advertising technology business.
The door's handle juggled.
"Speaking on the devil. Excellent timing." Nurse Ashley greeted Logan with a warm smile. Dr. Pence pulled the sterile gloves over his hands.
Rory's bright expression at his sight quickly changed into a worried one when the Flash of the Sony momentarily blinded him. Still, not halfway through the door, he quickly located the two other devices. His eyes hardened, the silent disappointment crawled into his face as he took a step back. "I'm going to sit this one out."
Rory quickly blocked the nurse's sympathetic look. Mad and silently disappointed was never the right combination with Logan. That was not how this whole morning was supposed to go.
"Okay. Let's get the show on the road." The doctor announced. Rory's stomach twisted with anxiety at the terrible cold front brewing outside the door.
When she stepped out, Logan was uncharacteristically absent.
~w~
Whistler, British Columbia, Canada
"Ben was right. It is the size of Montana." Finn inspected the bruise on Logan's neck with interest.
"Finn, you don't even know where Montana is," Logan commented dryly, accepting the can of beer. Inside, Colin and Ben were once again debating the first amendment. Nothing good ever comes out from getting a lawyer and a previous journalist in one room.
Logan wasn't in the mood.
"Somewhere in the not important states. Bet it's cold. Man, I hate the cold. You know I haven't been up this late unless it's for feeding purposes? It's refreshing." The Australian cracked opened his can. Taking a large gulp. "You know, we didn't mean to crash your baby-making routine."
"Yet, you live in Connecticut out of all places under the sun. Don't worry about it." Logan wasn't surprised. Between twiddle dee and twiddle dum, Finn was the most likely party to apologize.
"I go where my heart leads me. Is everything okay?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Logan answered tightly. Rory texted to inform him treatment passed with flying colors and details of future appointments. Until now, he hasn't responded. He was just too pissed. He wanted to break her camera into two, paint it blue and throw it into the ocean.
"You mean you don't want to talk about it to me. But you'll tell Ben."
"I don't talk to Ben about Rory. He double plays me." Logan replied. Deep down, Logan knew that eventually he would.
"He's team Logan all the way, despite conniving with the enemy." Finn mused. Maybe he was alluding to himself too, and not just Ben. Logan couldn't help but admit he's on point; Ben did help defuse quite a lot of landmines over the past months. "Gilmore girls can be pretty self-absorbed. Trust me; I do business with the prototype. Listen, I need to ask you a favor."
"Whatever it is, I'm not talking to Chelsea."
"I know better than to ask that."
"And I can cut her some slack, but your wife and I are never going to be fast friends."
"It seems like you are both on the same page then. Works for me. Does Rory ever talk about Lorelai?" Finn asked out of the blue.
The last thing Logan wanted was to talk about Rory.
"Sometimes. Why?" Logan looked thoughtful. They don't talk about their families much. Most of their conversations revolve around baby-making logistics and random neutral topics. Lately, they spend most of their time together having sex or fighting about the camera inappropriate presence. Rory only talks of her mother when she's either high or upset. "I don't think they're in the best terms."
"Emily Gilmore paid an explosive visit to the Pyramid this week. It turns out Lorelai canceled the wedding."
"Wouldn't be the first time Lorelai bails out of a wedding." Logan regretted he contributed the detail at the curious look Finn sent him. Apparently, the Australian didn't expect him to know that. Logan shrugged, "Rory mentioned it."
Logan deducted a few months ago, Rory's cold feet habit was a trait inherited from her mother. He also suspected the height of fake snow on his apartment floor matched the size of her disappointment over a canceled Christmas.
"Lorelai says she won't get married until she and Rory are back speaking again."
"As far as I know, the ball is in Lorelai's court," Logan stated, busying himself with the beer. He hoped this is where this conversation ends. He didn't know what exactly went down between Rory and her mother, yet he didn't want to get involved more than he already was.
He learned from his past mistakes.
"Richard Gilmore paid me a visit. For some reason, he thinks you'd be the one get through and put an end to this ongoing rift." Finn cleared his throat; Logan looked alarmed, "Because Rory loves grapefruits."
Logan twisted his mouth in dismay. Richard Gilmore put too much faith in grapefruits. The last thing he wanted to play a referee between mother and daughter. "It won't make much difference."
"Why not?"
Rory had sidestepped the fact he, and the baby they were trying for, was the center-piece in their disagreement. But he wasn't blind. Or deaf. "Take a wild guess why they're not speaking."
"My guess is that you're a grapefruit?"
~w~
April 2014
Seattle
"Rory?" Logan tentatively knocked on the close door of the toilet stall. Her boots peeked from the gap between the door and the floor. "Are you okay there? Let me in."
Logan winced when another retching round was triggered by the sound of his voice. He tried the door to find it locked.
Man, the girl is quick. The minute they stepped foot in the clinic, Rory has shoved the camera in his hands, making a mad dash towards the clinic's washroom hand over her mouth.
"Go away, Logan." He didn't expect a different response. Her voice sounded so miserable.
"Okay. I'll just wait out here." He stepped back to lean against the row of marble sinks with the camera hanged over his shoulder. Another woman entered, Logan silently points at the occupied stall. The sound is unmistakable. They exchange awkward smiles.
The toilet flushed. The door opened to reveal a pale looking Rory. A flash from her camera blasted at her. Logan smirked.
"It's the ladies." Rory frowned at him washing her mouth and hands. She should have expected him not to let her out of his sight. He was keeping tabs on her.
"I asked permission. Here. The front desk lady said it usually helps." He offers her a sour candy. "Are you sure you're not a frog? You still look a little green."
Rory shoots him her best death glare in the mirror, running water over her mouth. She pops the candy into her mouth next. "Not funny."
"Kinda funny." His arm sneaked over her waist, pulling her against him. To her surprise, she went willingly. Rory didn't realize how much she needed this closeness. His other hand felt her forehead for fever. "You're a little warm. Should we skip it today?"
Rory moved her head away, "I'm warm because I'm ovulating. I'm not sick; It's just nerves."
"We're still on with me in the room, right?" Logan inquired for the 100th time. Rory nodded. She felt guilty; the question was justified. He didn't trust her, granted.
"No cameras?"
"No cameras." She repeated. After his dramatic exit when he discovered the camera set up she prepared at the exam room, Rory didn't dare. She didn't tatter her feet on nearly every random hiking trail around Seattle just to fuck it up again.
If they ever speak again, she would never tell her mother that she spend all her March weekends in a sleeping bag in a tent. She would never tell Lorelai the unspeakable things she did for this man. The sexy things she let him do to her under the never ending March pouring showers.
She would never tell Lorelai. But she wanted to.
Now, nearly a month later, they were good—sort of. Logan mellowed over the camera's presence, somewhat. But she was not allowed to shoot his face.
Logan returned a hesitated smile and reassuringly rubbed her arm. "Come on, Kermit. Let's go make a baby."
Rory played with the strap of the camera hanging over his neck. It was strange how natural the tool that was an extension of her body looked draped over on him. "You know that we're not making the baby today. That's the next appointment."
"I have a good feeling about this cycle. I tell you."
Xx
"What happens now?" Logan has questions about everything. The equipment, statistics, pain levels, side effects, but most of all, he was eager to hear the play by play.
"I'm inspecting the uterus. I can see the egg in the tube. Everything looks intact." Dr. Pence was indulging Logan by narrating his actions. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but usually, Rory blocked it out. And usually, Logan was outside. "I use a small camera in there for better guidance, I can rotate the screen, and you can watch." Dr. Pence offered, "We do it all the time. All good on your end, Rory?"
"Can we skip the director's commentary, please?"
"Cool. It's just like the discovery channel." Logan's interest and excitement piqued.
"You can step over here. To look at the screen if you wish."
"Awesome." Logan rose to his feet quickly with childish glee. Rory grabbed his arm firmly. "Why not? Aren't you curious?"
"NO." Rory gave him a pointed look. The thought of Logan watching the medical procedure was even more disturbing than imagining a stuffed turkey. "Your head is not going anywhere south than my face."
"It's not like I'm a total tourist." Logan dejectedly sat back in the chair. He leaned his face closer to Rory's, "Remember you said that when…" Logan mumbled under his breath.
Rory blushed furiously. "Or, you can wait outside."
"You're not kicking me out. I'm staying." His phone vibrated his pocket. Logan's expression was full of conflict as he rejected it. He was waiting for this call.
"Honestly, Logan. It doesn't get any more exciting than this. You can go outside and take it. You said you were waiting for an important call."
"If you'd let me watch, then…" His argumentative nature reared its head back up, "What happens now?"
"I'm ready for suction now. Won't be long."
"We're in the middle. It's bad luck. I'll call back. He knows it's happening today."
"Who? Your dad?"
"Aaron Rosen," The name that fell off his lips caught her off guard. Logan, as Logan would, provided no further details.
Rory kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, her lips inaudibly counting down from ten. A spider webs a web in the far corner. From the corner of her eye, she watches Logan's eyes following the doctor's movements intently. Next time she'd let him watch. "Logan, who's your favorite Beatle?"
"George Harrison." Although it was a random question, he answered without a beat.
"Why?" She questioned.
"He's the coolest."
"The coolest?" Logan usually opts for better, more profound arguments.
"Anyone who can spare six million dollars to fund the 'Life of Brian' just because he wanted to see the film earned the title. Don't you think?"
"That's something my mother would say." It sounds wishful without her meaning it. It never ceases to amaze her how many out of the blue random things her two L's have in common. She missed her. She especially missed her when Logan did something her mother would do.
A fleeting hint of something passes Logan's face. If she didn't know better, she'd say he got a little emotional for a split second. His fingers gently, fleetingly brushed her bangs.
"Alright, all done." Dr. Pence announced the end of the procedure, "This goes to the lab. All looks well. Rory, best stay lying down a bit to avoid getting dizzy. No better time for a phone call than now."
"Nothing else happening?" Logan directed the question at the doctor.
"No. The next step is to fertilize the egg, and then in a few days, you come back, and we retrieve it. I would recommend refraining from intercourse for the next few days. You might feel a little sore." The man in the white coat said while removing the blue gloves off his hands. "Anything out of the usual side effects, please call in."
"What side effects?" Logan hurried to ask. His need to stay on top of things sometimes drove her crazy.
"I've got it covered; go take your call. They need your sample anyways." Rory tries to sound encouraging, but the look Logan gives her tells her she failed to reassure him he's not being pushed out.
Doctor Pence leaves the room, and so does Logan.
"Your man is charming. I'm glad he finally mustered the courage to step into the room. We always see him sit so nervous outside playing with his wedding ring." Nurse Ashley's cheerful manner took over once Logan closed the door behind him. "I see you're not wearing yours. It's completely normal; some women get their fingers swollen because of the medication. Don't worry; it goes away. It must have been a pretty ring."
Rory politely smiled, though it felt like she'd been slapped hard across her face. It wasn't Logan's hesitation that kept him out of the room. It was hers. And her fingers weren't swollen - she didn't have a ring. She was never going to get any. Not from Logan.
"You two are going to have gorgeous babies. His blonde hair, your blues eyes. You're such a handsome couple."
"Um.. thank you."
~W~
"Did you bath in aftershave? I know that smell." Shiri literally sniffed her, "Is that why you blow us off for lunch? You had to scratch an itch?"
"I had a doctor's appointment." Rory flinched away from the office manager. She took a large bite off her donuts. Treatments always made her crave ultra sugary food. Today she bought two. The jelly-filled one served as comfort food after she hurriedly left the clinic. She needed that after running into cheery Ashley again. "Is Logan back yet?"
"Yes. But I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Shiri warned, "I don't know what got his panties in a twist, but he's tearing up his office. I don't know what he's looking for, but he's frantic. He came back from lunch like thunder and told Ben he needs to go to New York as soon as possible."
"New York?" The donuts caught in Rory's throat. Kate looked at Rory very oddly.
"Ben is keeping his lips zipped. Natalie told me to cancel all his appointments until he's back from London." Shiri checked her nails, discreetly looking at the brunette.
"I'm going to get some water." Rory stuttered, throwing the remains of the donuts in the bin.
"It's Logan's aftershave. I can swear that it is." Shiri announced once Rory was well away from the door.
"You don't know that," Kate said timidly.
"Oh please, you think that's a coincidence they both disappeared at lunch?" Nicole rolled her eyes at the Graphic designer skeptically, "And now he's going to New York on a moment's notice, and she comes back looking all munching on donuts like it's the end of the world. If this doesn't spell, lunch-tryst turned into lovers' tiff. I don't know what does."
Shiri nodded her agreement. "We know. You don't see how they are when we hang outside work. The last time he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he's eye-fucking her."
Xx
For a moment, Rory watched him from the door. Shiri wasn't kidding. Logan was frantic. He kept tapping his clothes, feeling up his pockets, moving papers and items around his desk, looking under his keyboard. His hair ruffled from the multiple times he must have run his hand through it. His sleeves were not carefully rolled up. The oddest addition to the office setting is a small carry on.
He was going.
"Shiri, any change you have seen my…" He looked surprised to see Rory carefully closed the door behinds her. "Hi, I'm in a bit of a rush here. Can we talk later?"
"I believe this belongs to you." Rory holds out an item between her thumb and index finger. She noticed for the first time the thin digit on the inside. June 21. The pin code on his phone. Rory felt tears bubbling up.
Logan's eyes bore on the shiny, round object she held. His wedding band. He looked half-relived, half-mad. "Where did you get that?"
"You left this at the clinic. Ashley, the nurse who thinks you are my cute husband, gave this back to me." She offers in a clipped voice. Her blue eyes brim with unwanted tears. The oily taste of the donuts lingers in her mouth. It doesn't taste sweet and sugary anymore; it tastes sourly acid.
"Thanks." Logan awkwardly takes the ring from her and slips into the change pocket in his wallet. The wallet soon disappears out of sight. Logan looks reluctant but eventually says, "I can explain."
"No need. I should get back to work." She says coolly.
"Oh no, you don't." His hand moves faster to guide her into a seat on the yellow couch.
"So now it's okay…"
"No, it's not okay. And I really don't have the time; I need to get to New York. But we're not going to make a big deal out of this, so we're going hash it out now." He is glad his office walls are no longer glass. This is the worst timing for this conversation to happen. He crunched down before her, "Are you upset-upset or just hormonal?"
"Don't get cute." Rory buries her face in her hands.
"Rory, you are over-reacting."
"Why are you even wearing it?" She asks in a small voice. Logan can hear the hint of tears.
"I'm not wearing it. I always have it in my wallet. I play with it when I'm worried. It helps me think. Sometimes." He brushes her bangs gently, "It's just a ring, Rory."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. If he plays with it when nervous, if he is frantically looking for it when it goes missing, then it certainly not just a ring. "If it's just a ring, then put it in the safe."
"That's not for you to decide." He says firmly. She knows by now that tone signals the end of discussion.
"Then it's not just a ring." She can't give him the last word this time. Rory pushes her hands on the yellow fabric to make her exit. His hand on her shoulder keeps her planted on the seat.
"It is just a ring." Logan insists. "I had a life before you. It doesn't mean you get to be a part of them. You had a life too. I'd rather pretend they never existed, but I don't have the luxury since you decided you've broadcasting it for all to see."
Their eyes conduct a staring contest. Each is trying to force their point of view. He can't be serious. Is he picking up a fight about the comics now?
"Fuck you, Logan."
"What's really wrong? Are you feeling well?" He presses his palm to her forehead, worriedly, "You don't have a fever. No bleeding, right?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Any other side effects? Are you tried? Nausea? Heartburns?" He asks cautiously, braving her glare. "Cramps?"
"No. And the reason I don't wear a ring is not that my fingers are too swollen from all the hormones pumped into me." Rory says, argumentatively teary, "Stop reading that book, you're freaking me out. You're not supposed to know this much."
Logan looks at her suspiciously. Something doesn't add up with this rant. Something happened; he just doesn't know what. "Just checking. You will tell me if something's not right, right?"
"I thought you don't go to New York anymore." Ah, news travels fast in the office. Gossip got to her first.
"For work, I don't. This is something else." He offers no further explanation of what does send him to New York on such short notice. For more than a few days, if to judge by Shiri canceling his schedule.
"You're going to miss the next appointment." Rory clarifies. In less than a week, Logan is going to be in London for roughly two weeks. They worked the fertility appointments around it.
"I know. But I'll come to the next one."
She can't believe he's so cool about it, not after he fought her tooth and nail to be there. The last time he missed treatment because New York non-work crisis was in September. Rory starts to pale. Logan was waiting for Aaron Rosen to call.
"Logan," Shiri threw the door open. "Natalie says your flight leaves in three hours, and Mali Rosen is on the phone."
Shit. Not now. The last thing he needs.
The office's manager double-take on the scene unfolding before her is obvious. A nearly teary Rory sitting on the yellow couch, Logan crunched down in front of her. His one hand on her knee, his other loosely in her hair, their face close.
Logan watches Rory connects the dots in her head. He closes his eyes and takes a stilling breath. There's no way he can spin this. His next move is not going to go down well on all fronts.
"Put her through."
"Seriously?" The office manager is floored at his response, her eyes jumping between them. "No message?"
"Yes." He answers harshly. His eyes still on the brunette; she completely clamped up at the mention of a second Rosen today. "Rory, I have to take this call."
"Just forget it." Rory wipes her face with the back of her hand. Her black mascara smug. She stands up, smooths her dress, pushes past the office manager, and leave.
"What is going on?" The curls on the office manager's head looked bursting with curiosity.
"Put her through." Logan decisively repeated. His hands sink in his blonde locks, thoughts jumbled. "And close the door."
~W~
London
"One positive. One Negative."
"Do you want to take another one?" Logan's fingers played with the round golden band. "The hormone levels could be low. Maybe the test might not be sensitive enough. You took it first thing in the morning, right?"
"I'm not a newbie. I know how to pee on a stick, Logan. How can the hormone levels be low? My hormones are all over the place." Rory ranted over the phone. She was annoyed with him.
Logan cringed inaudibly. Not only were her hormones all over the place, so were her emotions. He hasn't seen her since he left for New York. Their communication dwindled to nearly standard texts and phone calls, where they would just mostly stay on the line saying nothing.
This is the first conversation she actually said more than a word at the time. But it wasn't a conversation. It was an epic meltdown, and it wasn't even 9 o'clock in Seattle.
"It's still early. It might not mean anything. It could be a false positive or a false negative. When is the blood test at the clinic scheduled?"
"After Easter."
All they could do now is wait. Or take another test.
Logan's eyes looked out of the window, searching the familiar Shard pike in the London skyline. The boarding room he has taken over for the duration of his business trip had the same angles as his old office. The shining spade of glass glinted in the uncharacteristically sunny April afternoon. "Okay. Let's just... let's take another test in a few days?"
"I'm not doing anything until you're here."
Logan held in a sigh. When Aaron's Rosen crashed during surgery earlier this month, Logan extended his New York stay. It was touch and go for a few days. It made no sense to go back; he missed the egg retrieval anyways. So he left for London earlier than initially planned. Much to Mitchum's delight.
Rory slammed the phone in his face when he confirmed Chelsea was there with him.
"Why not?" The blonde man fists the ring tightly in his hand. Why did she have to be so damned difficult?
"You're in London. What do I do if it turns positive…" Logan felt the hair at the back of his neck stand at her question. Another positive would be a good thing. Logan hopes for another positive. The gold ring spin on the dark wooden top of the conference room. The delicate engraving of his wedding date shone in the light.
"You call me." He simply answers. Though he admits it feels less satisfactory, if it turns positive, he wants to be there.
Silence. He can feel the vibration of her nerves through the phone. Logan Huntzberger absentmindedly slipped the ring back on his wedding finger. His legs pushing out of the chair, stepping closer to the floor to ceiling glass displaying the London's south bank.
"Rory, come see me."
"What?"
"Come see me," Logan repeats and leans his forehand against the glass.
"In London?"
"Yes, in London. It's a long weekend; this will just drive you crazy." The uncertainty, the Fifty-fifty chance, was going to drive him crazy too. "Okay?"
Bringing Rory to London, he was out of his mind.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the conference room opened, revealing Bobbi armed with two cups of coffee balanced on top of her tablet.
"Okay."
Logan let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding. "Natalie will be in touch with your flight details. I…" Bobbi set his designated coffee in front of the seat he previously occupied and made herself comfortable in one of the conference room chairs. "I have to go, my four o'clock starts. I will call you back."
He quickly kills the call after a faint confirmation from Rory.
"I went on the safe side and got you de-caff too. I don't know what kind of pills you are on these days." Logan could hear the playful tone in her voice, "It's been a while since I was your 'four o'clock.' Never thought that phrase would be used again."
Logan distractedly nodded his thanks, quickly typing Natalie the required details. "I just need to fire a message."
"Who's coming to town?"
Logan quickly looked up at the blonde marketing specialist. Her face looked fuller. Her hand absentmindedly stroked her visible bump. The best form of deflection is merely asking something else. "Life changed a lot since I last saw you?"
He pulled back the seat leaning back as he sat down. His eyes glued to the baby bump.
"Oh, you know. Last you saw me was back at my wedding. A lot happens in two years." Bobbi waved her hands dismissively, "One day I just went to sleep and woke up like this. Wanna feel? She's active now." The marketing specialist placed his hand on top of her baby-bump, never waiting for his response.
"Very active. You're excited?" Logan smiled at his blonde associate, assessing the activity under his hand. He couldn't help but wonder if that's in store for him shortly.
"I'm terrified. What if she comes out thinking Pudding is a proper dessert?" Bobbi joked, making Logan laugh. Her eyes lingered on his left hand. "Is it who I think it is? You're wearing your ring."
"No." He pulled his hands back, sliding off the ring into his wallet. "So… where does one happen to buy a pregnancy test in town these days?"
Bobbi raised a surprised eyebrow his way, "Boy, life sure changed a lot since I last saw you."
~w~
"Are you tired? Jet lag usually kicks in around this time on this side of the ocean." Logan asked, worried. His hand easily slipped into hers once he made their excuses and left the pub. She's been quiet ever since he introduced her.
"I'm good."
"This side of town is cool at this time of night. I thought we could walk around a little. But If you're tired, I could always have the car come pick us up at the corner. Or we can take the tube. Or a cab."
"Look at you, saying 'Cab' and 'Tube' like a local." Rory looked at their joined hands. One of the rare public display of affection he offers sporadically. He is much more generous with them outside of Seattle. They have been so awkward with each other lately. "I'm fine."
"Hey, I know. I could carry you." He walked backward, teasing while pulling her hand along.
"Carry me?"
"Yeah, piggyback, fireman's carry, in both arms - your choice." He offers boyishly.
"No." Rory chuckles a little at his lame attempt to cheer her up; she let her hand slip out of his grasp, "I'm really fine."
"Wow, okay. So, I guess something's really wrong." He stopped walking.
"Just because I don't want to be fireman carried doesn't mean that something is wrong."
"But, something is wrong." He observed by the way her shoulders slouched.
"No, it's just…"
"Just?" Logan pressed on.
"This isn't exactly what I expected. You said: come meet me. You put me on a plane. I thought it was gonna be just us." Rory didn't expect New York; she expected Vancouver Island. "And then you say you have a thing."
Rory didn't expect him to in Heathrow when she landed. She didn't foresee how she'd never want to step out of his arms when she collided into him with a bone-crushing hug. She recalls absolutely no time frame of how long they stood there at arrivals in a tight embrace.
"I did. I also said I could get out of it if you wanted. You said it was fine." He reminds her, "I'm sorry that you didn't have a good time tonight. Mike and Will can get intense when talking about soccer. But the night's young, we can do something else. This is London - the options are limitless."
Rory pulled her red coat tightly consciously. It was okay; deep down, she had wanted to see what his London life used to look like, who were the people he hangs out with. She was curious.
Her curiosity went out of the window very fast after introductions.
"Well, no, it's not that. I mean, I get it. The guys are great. Okay. But, technically, Bobbi, well, she's not exactly a guy." He doesn't miss the way she mutters under her breath; "And she got legs."
"Yeah, you got me there." He laughs a little amused, "Is that a problem?"
"I mean, would that have been so unbelievably difficult to fit into a conversation? I don't know about you, but most of the Bobby's I know are guys - Bobby Kennedy, Bobby Brady, Bobby Knight, Bobby Brown."
"Bobby Womack is one cool dude too…"
"You're smiling at me. Why are you smiling at me?"
"Because you are very cute when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous?" She just didn't want to share.
"Rory."
What was it about Bobbi that rubbed the women in his life the wrong way? Chelsea had the same reaction whenever Bobbi's name was mentioned. Ben used to bring her up just to rile Chelsea up intentionally.
"I'm not! And how condescending was she? 'I wish I was good at something artistic.'" Rory imitated her posh accent. And did you hear what she called us? 'Adorable.' She called us an adorable couple. We are not a couple."
"Wait, she said that out loud?" He tries to keep his face straight.
"Yes, adorable."
"Wow, you want me to go back there and kick her ass?"
"You're not taking me seriously."
As for Rory, he can't decide if the idea of Bobbi in general or that Bobbi assumed they are a couple that bugs her. Bobbi unknowingly stepped on Rory's sore spot. Rory cared about clear definitions. Logan cared about making the most of the moment.
"Because you're not serious. I just didn't want you uncomfortable. Bobbi is my colleague; she's great at what she does. She's smart. She's talented. And, yes, she has great legs. Will has great legs, too. Maybe before you rush judgment, you should check his out."
"You didn't think it was worth mentioning that she's great in bed too?" Rory clicked her tongue, "You made me spend the whole evening with a pregnant woman you consistently slept with for years!"
"No. I took you out to a night with my friends, people who were a big part of my life here. Bobbi was a part of my life. A very dark part of my life. I can't erase that; I don't want to. I don't expect you to do that either." He pauses momentarily, "And, yes. She was great in bed. Years ago. And she's happily married now. She's a friend. I was at her wedding. I can show you pictures."
"Great, so now I'm not just an idiot, I'm an anti-feminist idiot, an anti-feminist who's standing here in the street arguing about things I don't really want to be arguing about."
"You don't?" he's skeptical.
"No. Do you think I like feeling this way? I mean... I'm in London for god sakes! This is meant to be a nice distraction from…" she can't say it. Which just makes the tears prick in her eyes, "How can I be the only one without a smile on my face, sulky, and iffy. And she just sits there, looking all radiantly pregnant…"
Realization suddenly clicks on his face; it wasn't the adorable couple comment. It wasn't the fact that he left out Bobbi was a former bedmate. Bobbi was pregnant.
Visibly, no question about it pregnant.
"Iffy?" She's cute. And upset.
"Something is wrong with the sum of us for weeks! And you are just able to sit there, laughing out loud at the thought of being alive. Like nothing looming over your shoulder."
"Because I can't." Logan says simply, "I can't get stuck on it, Rory. I can't dwell on why we're fighting or why things are not going smoothly and who's at fault here. I just can't keep thinking about what I should have said, or if I could do it differently. Especially not here. Pausing here makes me spiral. I can't be down here; when I'm down, I have the habit of getting really high."
"Marijuana high?"
"Stronger stuff." Logan scratched the back of his head like he didn't want to admit it. "Look, I can't stop and wallow in this for no reason. We don't know yet. The way I see it, we have two options. Either we take a test, and shut the rest of the world while processing whatever it says. Or, we forget all about it this weekend and take a blood test when we get back to America."
"But what if…" What if it's another disappointment?
"It's something that we can't control. We'll have to buckle up, dust it off, smile through it, and double down on another cycle." His hands disappeared into his pocket. Logan stands, looking her straight in the eye. "So what it's gonna be?"
"Let's wait for the blood test."
It wasn't the answer he expected to hear.
"Okay." Logan rocked on his heels to shake the disappointment off, "So just to clarify, in the future, you would prefer I work only with girls who have no legs? Because I think that means I have to fire you."
"You think you're so funny." She hits his chest, his hands grab her arms, pulling her closer. Logan always smelt good, "I think I'm ready to be carried now. How far is Big Ben?"
"Pretty far. I'm not carrying you there."
Xx
The little pubs in the small alleys in Convent Garden district. Midnight Fish and Chips. People-watching in Piccadilly square. Rory doesn't drink, but she's drunk of his closeness.
There's a thoughtful look in his eye she never saw before.
It's still there when the jet leg wakes her up at 4 a.m. to a wide-awake Logan and his wandering hands. The pecking of lips turned more sensational. Hands got more daring, and breaths turned quicken and shallow. Soon, a silent agreement cemented between them.
"We can't. Doctor's orders." She whispers. They both know the risks that lie in bluntly disobeyed doctor's orders, yet Logan's eyes are full of something she can't pin-point.
"I'll be gentle." He kisses her shoulder, his hands sliding down the pajama shorts she has on. Her hands matching his actions. Rory shudders in anticipation, gentle means he takes his time showering her boy with attention until she feels completely boneless.
Rory knows, in the back of her mind, she has Chelsea to thank for teaching him.
"I missed you." She mumbles against his hot mouth. She didn't intend to admit it. Vocalizing straight forwards feeling is not something they do.
His hands cups her backsides, her legs instinctively warp around him. "Easy tiger. I'm glad you're here."
Rory thanks Chelsea for breaking his heart. She silently thank all the previous ladies in his life, even Bobbi, because - for the first time - in London, Logan Huntzberger made love to her.
~w~
Logan moves through London's streets like he has the city's map engraved at the back of his head. Rory's to-do list is stuffed in his back pocket after he mercilessly made fun of it.
"Scratch that plan. The sun is out. Saturday is a Notting Hill day."
"But I wanted to see all the film locations! I have a list!" She protests. She should have known he had it all planned out before she even deplaned. "Give it back; I need to mark it on the map."
"Notting Hill has film locations." He deflects easily.
She managed to steal it back once they are riding the 'tube.' she takes advantage of the crowded cabin that makes him stand closer to her than he usually would in public. Or maybe it's just London.
"Are you feeling me up, Gilmore?"
"Just taking what's rightfully mine, Darling." She says in a horrible British accent and waves the list in his face. His smirk makes her conscious of how that sounded.
Otherwise, they don't touch beside the occasional brush of hands.
Notting Hill is a kaleidoscope of row and rows of houses with its colorful doors, small indie shops, second-hand stores, and secret gardens. They wander around the Portobello market. Rory is set to taste every single dish in the international food market. Logan laughs at her American taste-pallet when the sour taste of Ethiopian flat-bread on hits her tongue and her face twitch.
She takes so many pictures she has to use her extra memory card. Logan shies away from her lens, but she manages to catch a few.
"Can we look for the blue door?"
Logan nods. "But don't count on Hugh Grant stepping out in his underpants."
"You'll do as a stand-in." She eyed him suggestively. The small roll of the eye leaves no doubt he's not at all sold on the suggestion. "I'd still fire some mean flashes at the door. Maybe Spike will come out."
They halfway reenacted the final scene of Notting Hill on that iconic bench. Rory's head rests in his lap, legs bent over the edge, reading a pocket-size book she found in a second-hand bookstore. Logan programs her list of movie locations into Google Maps.
Both are painfully aware of the missing bump from the scene. Equally aware of the uncertainly that hangs and the three unopened pregnancy tests that waits in the bathroom to solve it. Three cancel the fifty-fifty chance. Three different brands provide more certainty— Logan was thinking practical when he bought them.
~w~
It's Sunday. From the moment they woke wrapped around each other, they are constantly touching.
"Come on." Logan pushed the black side-gate at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, completely ignoring her protest that they are not supposed to do this, "It's not locked, stop stalling. You're gonna love this!"
They take the short walk into the trail surrounding the wall of the Observatory before he stops in front of a stone plaque on the wall. A black line runs right in the middle, partitioning between East and West.
The Greenwich Meridian line. The place where time zones begin.
"Get your camera ready. Wait here." He drops her hand and disappears only to come back a moment later with a Japanese tourist in tow.
"Logan, what are…"
"Give him your camera." He orders. Rory clenches her tool tighter to her. Hell no.
"No one touches my camera."
"Well, make an exception before he leaves." She grips her camera closer than humanly possible, "Just trust me."
She doesn't know why she gives in. It's him. He has this effect on her. Logan Huntzberger can tell her that if she'd touch fire, she won't burn. And she'd believe him. Her precious camera sits in the hands of a stranger, while Logan wastes no time to maneuver her close to the wall. He kicks her feet, making sure they stay parted by the line.
"You're East. I'm West." He states the obvious.
"Like in the wizard of Oz?"
"Stand still. Shut up." He says before he cups her face and kisses her.
Her hands automatically grab the back of his head, investing more. He never kisses her in public, in broad daylight. Rory hears the dimmed, familiar clicks of her camera and her heart pounds. Logan Huntzberger rarely willingly thrust himself in front of a camera for documented proof. It completely throws her.
She thinks she gets it. The ultimate wrinkle in time. Two actual different times zones that are actually the same place. The place where time starts. The place where time and space collide. No more wrinkles in time, no more boundaries.
Rory's heart sings for this man.
~w~
Monday is her last morning in London. Rory sits on the cold tiles of the bathroom, worrying her fingernails in her mouth. Logan was soundly sleeping; she knows by now how rare phenomenon that is.
She didn't want to wake him. Yet.
"It's blue." The words get tangled up on her tongue, the three sticks stare back at her, "They're all blue."
"Well, what do you know, blue is my favorite color." Her blue eyes quickly flew to the man leaning against the bathroom door. She didn't hear him get up. Logan's hair sticks out in all directions from the pillows. Wrinkles of sleep pressed on his cheek.
She blinks at him, "I'm so glad you didn't say you need to call your lawyer."
He smiles sheepishly; she can see unrecognized emotions running in his eyes. Logan scratched his bed hair, "My phone's off. I heard the toilet flush."
Rory's bottom lip start to quiver. He literally did shut out the rest of the world to process this. It hits her that his phone never rang once the entire weekend too.
"We need to take a picture." She wipes her runny nose on the back of her hand.
He shakes his head at her, amused, "You don't want a picture of you crying on the bathroom floor, Rory."