AN: Hi, everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate Christmas). We had a family Zoom on Christmas Eve and it was, you know, fine. But for 2020 fine pretty much means great. Lol. I wanted to do another AN at the top just to address a bit of feedback I've been getting regarding Rory and Logan living in Stars Hollow while they renovate the house. A lot of you seem to think it's not a good idea, and you're definitely entitled to that opinion. But, the reason that I am doing it this way is because Rory wants to be around her mother post-partum. I don't think that is in any way pathetic, co-dependent, or dangerous. The post-partum period is so hard, especially for first time parents. Having family around to support you can make all the difference. I've had friends whose mother's have literally moved in with them for a couple of months after they've had babies. It's okay that she wants Lorelai's help.

Anyway, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this next installment!


Chapter 30

Friday, June 23, 2017

"Good luck. And DON'T fuck it up."


"What a charming display of Americana." The bell above the door of Luke's chimed loudly as the first of a group of young men burst in to the empty space. "This is exactly the kind of place I am delighted to see as a guest in your fine country."

"You've lived here for fifteen years, Finn."

Robert's tone was clipped as he walked into the door behind him, his arms full of a heavy cardboard box whereas the Australian's arms were entirely empty. Finn turned around and looked at his friend with an expression of shock.

"Good God, has it been that long?" he asked before hopping over to the bar and taking a seat on one of the stools. "Where has all the time gone?"

"Wherever it is that your brain cells go when you get black out drunk," Colin answered. He was following closely on Robert's tail, his hands full of some bags of his own, though his load was significantly lighter.

"You wound me, Colin," Finn replied. "Everyone here knows I have the best drunken memory of the lot of us. How else would I remember the name of that gorgeous red-head I met at that restaurant last weekend. The lovely Lisa…. Or was it Liza?"

"Rachel, Finn. Her name is Rachel."

"Damn," Finn whispered. "So close…"

"Not even remotely," Colin argued. He placed the bags he was carrying on the floor. "And you can feel free to go ahead and forget her entirely."

"You're acting mighty protective of this perfect stranger."

"She's not a perfect stranger. She's my paralegal. I introduced you to her."

"Mm… no… Doesn't sound right. Sorry," Finn murmured.

"Does somebody want to tell me where I can put this box down?!" Robert griped, his voice swiftly cutting through the bickering of the two old friends and carrying through the dinner to the stair case where Rory was moving as quickly as she could to greet the boys that had given up their Friday to help her.

Luke had closed down the diner for the morning to give Rory and Logan some time to move their things into the apartment above the diner. Pottery Barn had had already come and gone with the baby furniture, and Logan and Luke had graciously dug the new mattress she'd been sleeping on at her grandparents' out of storage.

When they had approached Luke about the possibility of them staying here while the house underwent renovations, he hadn't hesitated for a moment before letting them know he'd be more than happy to offer up the space. For the most part it was sitting here empty. The only person who used it was Jess, and considering it wasn't actually his apartment, he could cope with staying at her mom's or at the Inn when he came into town for a few months.

It really was the option that made the most sense. Logan was itching to get out of his parents' pool house since the moment he'd stepped in it all the way back when he thought he was coming to America for nothing more than a quick Easter visit, but he also didn't want to go through the hassle of working out a temporary lease for an apartment that he didn't plan on staying in for any significant amount of time.

Moving into the apartment above the diner worked perfectly for them. It gave them their own space to be together during the first few weeks of their journey into parenthood, but it was also close enough to her support system that she felt comfortable. The only downside was that the place was old. It was dated, and it was pretty small. But, there was a strange romanticism about it.

Being here reminded Rory of the brief period of time that she and Logan had lived together in Paris' crappy New Haven apartment during her last semester at Yale. It was cramped. It wasn't all that aesthetically pleasing - to say the least. There was a lingering smell, though this time it had more to do with bacon grease and less to do with the drifting skunky aroma of bad marijuana. And, most of all, they were once again living with each other on the precipice of a massive change in both of their lives. This time, however, they'd be navigating that change together rather than breaking apart.

Plus, at least it was cleaner. So so much cleaner.

"You can just set it on a table, Robert," Rory answered as she appeared in the doorway behind the counter.

The sigh in her voice as she responded was perfectly audible – not that it had anything to do with Robert, or any of the boys for that matter. The sigh in her voice was ever-present now as opening her lips and using her vocal chords to speak out loud took one more ounce of energy that she no longer had.

"Jesus, Gilmore…" said Colin, staring at her in horror as she walked around the counter into the dining area with one hand pressed firmly into her back and the other one cradling her belly. "You look like you're about to explode."

Rory glared at him. Charm had never been one of Colin's strong suits. She was usually able to take it in stride, but lately she wasn't able to take much of anything in stride. She was about to open her mouth and tell him exactly what she thought he looked like when Finn jumped in to attempt and placate her.

"Don't listen to him, my darling," he said, hopping up off of the stool he had seated himself in. He walked over to her and placed his hands on her stomach. Rory suppressed a growl. Finn, at least, wasn't a stranger. However, she still wasn't much of a fan of people touching her without permission these days. "You look absolutely radiant, flush with our child."

"Don't touch me, Finn," said Rory, brushing right past him and heading to an empty chair at one of the tables by the door. As she bent to sit, she winced. A sharp pain traveled through her lower back, and she pressed her hand into her back to try and provide some relief.

"You okay there, luv?" Finn asked while he watched her, dropping his playful tone and adopting a more serious one – as serious as Finn could get at the very least.

"Yeah," Rory answered with a nod. "I'm fine. I just… my back has been bothering me all day. I don't think the couch upstairs really agrees with me."

Most furniture didn't agree with her these days, but Luke's old springy couch had really done a number on her. She'd been sitting on it earlier this afternoon, sorting through baby things to determine where they should be placed while Luke and Logan hauled the mattress up the stairs and onto the bed frame. Comparatively it wasn't all that much work, but her body definitely thought it was.

All day she'd been practicing her mantra. Five more days. That was all. Five more days until her due date and she could start to get her body back. Five more days until she could stop living her life as a walking bed and breakfast. She'd still have to manage the breakfast part, but even so it seemed a lot more manageable.

Of course, it was entirely possible that she might end up going past her due date, but that was something that Rory wasn't even willing to think about at the moment.

"Where's Logan?" she asked, suddenly noticing the strange absence of her boyfriend. She turned a bit in her chair, as much as the ache in her back would allow, and started peeking out of the windows.

"Cementing his place on the naughty list for this coming Christmas," Robert answered before taking a seat himself. Rory blinked at him.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"Last we left our dear friend Logan, he was standing on the sidewalk and entering into an altercation with a fine gentleman bearing a striking resemblance to the Père Noël," Finn expounded.

To most, the additional information might only worsen the level of confusion and bewilderment. However, considering their current location and Rory's knowledge of who normally prowled the sidewalks of Stars Hollow, she had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on.

"Oh jeez…" she said with a sigh.

She craned her neck a little further to the right and was finally able to make out a flash of blond hair on the sidewalk. His back was turned to the diner, so she couldn't see his face and he was blocking the person that he was speaking to. Still, Rory didn't need to see the man know exactly who it was.

"I'll be right back," she said, standing up – slowly.

She turned her back for a moment and took a few steps toward the door. As she pulled it open and the chime rung again, she turned one more time to face the boys. Finn was walking behind the counter, picking up pastry lids and poking at ketchup dispensers. Robert was wandering around the room, seemingly perplexed by the window looking into the Soda Shoppe.

"Don't touch anything while I'm gone," she warned. "Colin, you're in charge."

"You got it," Colin replied, not even bothering to look up from whatever had distracted him on his phone.

"No fair!" Finn argued. "Why does Colin get to be in charge!?"

"Because Colin's never tried to take his pants off in an empty movie theater," Rory answered. "You can't be trusted when there aren't other people around."

"I'm hurt," said Finn. "You're making me worry that you don't think I'll be a good father to our beautiful daughter."

"Just don't break anything," Rory continued, ignoring him. "I'll be back in a second."

As soon as Rory stepped out of the diner and onto the sidewalk, she could hear the arguing voices coming from her left. Logan, bless his heart, was doing an impressively good job of keeping his tone calm and polite, but she could tell by the slight edge in his voice that he was approaching the limits of his patience. With a deep breath and a string of silent curses in her mind, Rory inserted herself into the conversation.

"What's going on, Taylor?" she asked, not even attempting to hide the sheer annoyance she was feeling at have to stand on the sidewalk and deal with him while nine-months pregnant and suffering from shooting back pains.

"I'm so glad you asked," said Taylor. He threw his arm out toward the street, gesturing to a large vehicle stopped in the middle of the lane with its engine running and music playing from its built in speakers. "What is it that you see here, Rory?"

"It's your ice cream truck, Taylor," Rory answered, matter-of-factly.

"Yes. That's right," the man continued, puffing out the chest that was covered in the red and white striped seersucker suit that he always wore on summer days when he took the truck out. "As you well know, I have been selling ice cream from this truck every June through August since I first opened this Soda Shoppe back in 2003."

"That sounds familiar, yes," Rory replied with a nod.

"I thought it might," Taylor responded. "It might also sound familiar that I long ago made an arrangement with your step-father to park my truck in this spot every year during that period of time?"

Rory turned her head to the area that Taylor was gesturing too, noticing immediately that the spot in question was taken up by a black Escalade with its trunk door popped open and it's back filled to the brim with boxes. Rory sighed again and turned back to Taylor.

"Yes, I remember hearing something about that…" she answered with another sigh. She remembered how Taylor had practically blackmailed her mother into arranging it for him.

"Good," Taylor said with a self-satisfied nod. "So, as I was just explaining to your… ah… gentleman friend, I will need him to relocate his vehicle immediately. As it is, I'm currently double parked in the middle of the street. "

"And, as I was just explaining to Mr. Doose…" Logan chimed in, his jaw tight and his tone clipped. "I don't see any markings or signage indicating that this is a reserved parking space."

"Well, I'm not sure how things work in the big city, but here in Stars Hollow - "

"In the big city, reserved spaces are usually… you know… reserved."

"Young man," said Taylor. "For the third time, I need you to move your car this instant."

"For the third time…" Logan parroted. "No."

"Okay," Rory said, holding her hands up in front of her and pushing them downward slightly in a silent plea for them to settle down. "Taylor, if you can please just let us quickly get all of these boxes out of the car and onto the sidewalk, we will find another parking space for the car."

"Young lady, I'm afraid I can't allow you to simply pile up all these boxes onto a public sidewalk and - "

"Taylor!" Rory snapped.

The older man regarded her outburst with a look of pure shock and alarm. His hand went to his heart in a rather on the nose gesture of astonishment and his mouth popped open like a fish.

"I am nine months pregnant. My back hurts. My feet hurt. I've been up since six o'clock this morning. I am about one more second from becoming so full of rage that I might morph into The Hulk, take the heaviest box in this car and throw it right through your Soda Shoppe window. So let me tell you how this is going to work. We are going to unload these boxes and leave them here on the sidewalk while we start taking them upstairs. And you are going to climb in your ice cream truck and do another circle around the square while we get that done. Otherwise, I am going to call Officer Weston and tell him that you are double parked in the street waiting for a parking space that you have no legal claim to, and if you try to argue that point we'll cede this conversation to our good friend Colin who is waiting for us inside Luke's as we speak and happens to be a graduate of Harvard Law. It's your choice."

Taylor let out an affronted huff of air followed by a string of statements communicating his astonishment that Rory would speak to him in such a manner. Clearly, he didn't remember the last little tiff they had gotten into over the operation of his Soda Shoppe when he'd gone on a passive aggressive rampage about the fact that she didn't want to be his ice cream princess, or whatever it was that he'd called it.

Eventually though, Taylor realized that she had the upper hand in this particular argument. He climbed into his truck, grumbling the entire time, and in a manner of moments he peeled off down the street. The music coming from the speakers grew in volume and he slapped a smile on his face as he leaned the window and started beckoning customers.

"So… I guess your little love affair with Taylor ended in record time?" Rory said, turning to Logan and crossing her arms over the top of her belly.

Logan only sighed in response. He ran a hand over his face and started rubbing the tension out of his brow. Rory, suddenly far more amused than annoyed, chuckled and squeezed his bicep.

"Aw, babe…" she started again. "Look at it this way… Hating Taylor is like… your baptism into becoming a real honest to goodness citizen of Stars Hollow."

That didn't seem to comfort Logan at all.

It was no question that the next few months were going to be very interesting. But, Rory had to admit she was a little excited about it. Over the course of their relationship, Rory had found herself feeling out of place to many times. Be it at his overly stuffy family events or the opulent restaurants he liked to take her to occasionally, or the fundraisers and parties full of rich business people that he brought her to once in a blue moon. She had to admit that she was looking forward to seeing Logan flop around like a fish out of water in her world for a brief period of time.

The expression on his face, however, was completely and thoroughly unamused.

"How long do we have to live here again?"


Rory picked up her phone once again to look at the time. Only ten minutes had passed since the last time she'd looked at the clock, but she was starting to get a little concerned. Logan and the boys had left about two and half hours ago to go pick up the last of his things from his parents' house and grab his own car. Theoretically, he should be back by now.

It was an hour and a half round trip from Stars Hollow to Hartford and back. Rory was very well versed in that bit of information. There were countless hours of her youth spent traveling back and forth between school and her grandparents' house that she would never get back. Though, the bus ride did provide some quality reading time that she otherwise might not get to enjoy.

The point was that Rory knew exactly how long it took to get from Stars Hollow to Hartford and back, and it wasn't two and a half hours. She'd given him a couple minutes of leeway, figuring he and the boys might take a moment to say their goodbyes before going on their separate ways and assuming that he might run into a little bit of rush hour traffic. But even the reasonable cushion of time she'd figured on was starting to tick past it's limit in her mind.

With a concerned sigh, Rory slid her thumb across the screen on her phone to open it rather than setting it back on the coffee table next to the pile of clothes she was sorting through. She opened her message app and was about to start drafting a text to Logan asking where he was, when she suddenly heard an ominous 'thump' coming from the stairway down to the diner.

Intrigued and slightly troubled, Rory set the phone back down on the table and furrowed her brow. When she heard the thump again, she summoned what little energy she had and pulled herself up from the couch. She grimaced as she felt another painful twinge in her back. She might end up having to do something about the couch. She wasn't sure exactly what, but she'd been sitting there all day as the boys brought in things and she directed them where to place them, and the pain only seemed to have progressively gotten worse and worse as the time went on.

Forging through her discomfort, Rory walked toward the door leading into the hallway, and as she approached, she could hear voices coming from the bottom of the stairs.

"I got it!" she heard Logan say in a strained voice.

"You sure?" Luke asked immediately after.

"Yep. I'm good."

Yet another thump followed his assurance, and Rory was forced to imagine what 'it' was gotten until he finally appeared in her vision about halfway up the stairs.

His neck was craned behind himself, looking down at the steps as he climbed them slowly backwards. In front of him, his hands were clasped around the metal handle of an old dolly that was helping him to lift a large rectangular box up the stairs.

"Hey, Ace!" he greeted cheerfully as his eyes landed on her standing in the hall above him.

"Hey," Rory replied, her tone not quite as cheerful. "I would ask where you've been, but that seems pretty obvious now."

The thumps continued to sound around them as Logan carefully pulled the dolly up each and every one of the steps. The higher he climbed, the more visible the box he was carrying became. It was a carboard box with a large blue triangle printed on the bottom half. The word 'Samsung' spread across the front in blue block letters, and judging by the size of it she had a pretty good guess as to what was inside.

She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or grateful.

The more frugal part of her brain found it difficult to appreciate him spending this kind of money when they were days away from having an infant to take care of and were on the precipice of beginning a multimillion dollar home renovation. But, the rational part of her brain knew that even with those realities in mind, Logan could still easily afford this little toy.

"I stopped at Best Buy on my way home."

"Yeah I can see that," said Rory as she watched him reach the landing at the top of the steps and carefully set the box in a standing position so that he could take a small breather. "You know there's a perfectly operational television in the apartment. I've been watching it the whole time you were gone."

"That thing?" Logan asked, his face contorting in pure judgement and dissatisfaction. "That thing is tiny. And it's like over a decade old."

Logan walked around to the front of the dolly and gently started to walk the box off of the little metal lip at the bottom. He tilted the box downward, letting it land horizontally on the floor so that he could start pushing it toward the door. As he moved, Rory walked back inside, getting out of his way while he brought the box into the apartment.

"Do you really think we need that?" she asked as he stopped just in front of the kitchen table. "We're only going to be here for a few months."

Logan walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through drawers. When he finally landed on the utility drawer, he pulled out a pair of scissors and started walking back over to the box.

"Yeah exactly," he replied as he moved. "A couple months is a long time. Game of Thrones starts up in a couple weeks. Do you really expect me to watch it on that dinky thing?"

Rory looked over at the small little flat screen that Logan was gesturing to. She had to admit, it wasn't the best. Still, it was as small apartment. And a giant television in the middle of the cramped seating area might end up looking and feeling a bit strange.

"I suppose not…" she answered, reluctantly. She'd really rather him not watch Game of Thrones in here at all. But, it seemed one leftover rule from their London relationship still applied. She would sit through Game of Thrones without complaint if he would sit through QI. Though, hers just wasn't the same anymore without Stephen Fry.

Logan started to busy himself with slicing through the tape around the box, and Rory took that as her cue to get back to her task. A lot of the furniture that Luke used to have up here had been moved to her mom's or sold in the years since he'd last lived here. But, thankfully, there were still a few basics – the couch, the bed, the table, and a couple of dressers. Rory had slowly been filling the dressers with their clothing all day, taking a plethora of breaks and even a nap while the boys did all the grunt work.

"Did you see the boys off safely?" Rory asked as she walked back over the couch to resume sorting through the clean laundry her mom had dropped off a while ago.

"Safely might be pushing it," Logan replied. "I think they were heading off to hop some bars."

"It was nice of them to come and help us on a Friday," Rory said. As fun loving and immature as the group of them still acted at times, Rory was quite aware that they were no longer the wild and free young men she'd known in college. When the four of them got together tomfoolery was still pretty certain, but their everyday average lives were far more grown up than that for the most part.

"Well, it's not that hard for Colin and Robert to get a day off work," Logan replied. "And Finn doesn't really have a real job anyway. So…"

Rory smiled. It was true that Colin and Robert had a little more freedom than the average man when it came to their work life. Colin was already a partner at his family firm and Robert was an investment banker. Both of them were non-exempt employees and neither one of them had a strict schedule for work. As long as they got their work done, it wasn't as if they had a boss standing over their shoulders asking questions about where they were and what they were doing. Finn, on the other hand…

"How exactly does Finn… you know… earn a living?" she asked. "I mean, I know he has his trust fund. But he can't just be living of that. Can he?"

Logan laughed and took a deep breath.

"Finn is an Instagram influencer," he replied with a somewhat teasing smile.

Rory had to stop what she was doing. The shirt she had been folding dropped back onto the table as she lowered her arms and simply looked at Logan's amused expression. Surprise wasn't the right word for what she was feeling at hearing that piece of information. It was more… surprise at how unbelievably stereotypical and fitting that career was for a person like Finn. It was simply too obvious to be real.

"You're kidding," said Rory. Logan shook his head and laughed as he set the scissors he'd been using on the table and started to pop open the television box.

"Nope," he responded.

"I follow him on Instagram. How did I not know this?" said Rory.

"He has a private and a public account."

"So what… I mean… How exactly does that even work?" asked Rory. She's always heard of people who were able to somehow make money on social media, but she'd never really given it much thought.

"He's like an adventure traveler. He hikes up things, rides down things, and jumps off things, and he takes pictures," Logan explained. "And he gets sponsorships from sporting companies like Yeti and Northface and Merrell to include their products in his posts. I think right now he's getting ready to go spelunking in Iceland."

"Spelunking?" Rory asked, wondering how on Earth the idea of doing such a thing could ever sound compelling to a person.

"Well, I think he might hit a couple of those hot springs too," Logan offered.

That sounded a bit more her speed, but she still had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea. But, then, she'd never really understood why Logan and his friends were always so keen to spend their college days traveling to dangerous places, doing dangerous things, and sleeping on the dirt. Perhaps it was a way to reclaim their masculinity every once in a while since they spent the vast majority of their life being pampered and living in luxury.

"Well, it's good to know Finn's years at Yale weren't an entire waste…" she said. Logan chuckled in response.

"Yeah, once he learned to put his mind to things other than those frivolous classes, he really found his stride."

"Was his mind ever on his classes to begin with?" Rory asked, resuming her folding duties.

"Fair point."

"It still boggles my mind how Finn ever got into Yale to begin with," Rory continued. "I mean… I know he's not stupid but… has he ever been able to focus on anything for longer than ten minutes? The older I get the more I begin to suspect that the thing he said about sleeping with the recruiter might have been true."

"Finn has said far more outrageous things about his past that have turned out to be true, so I wouldn't put it past him," Logan said. "Hey, can you help me for a second? I just need you to hold this while I pull it out."

Rory looked back over at Logan and noticed that he was currently in the midst of a struggle to get the television out of the box it was still encased in.

"Dirty," she replied with a satisfied smirk.

"Aw, Ace," Logan groaned. "Not your best."

"I know. I'm off my game these days," she said as she stood up once again from the couch. This time, the ache in her back as she stood was so strong that she actually let out an involuntary wince of pain and she could swear she felt it throbbing. Logan stopped fussing with the box immediately.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Rory's voice was contorted in a nasty grimace, but she tried as hard as she could to send him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine," she said. "I just need to remember to put some pillows behind my back while I'm sitting on that thing I guess."

Logan didn't look at all placated by that explanation. He looked worried, and he didn't seem to believe for one second that she was 'fine.' But Rory did. She had to. She wasn't ready for the alternative.

She was pretty sure she was fine. It was just that her back was hurting. Her back had been hurting for a while now. It wasn't anything new, and the last thing she wanted to do was send Logan into a spiral when chances were this was going to be a perfectly normal evening.

Still, before she walked over to Logan to assist him in getting his new toy out of its box she picked up her phone once again, making special notice of the exact time. It probably wouldn't hurt to start counting.


"Alright here we go," Logan said cheerfully as he walked over to the couch and handed Rory a plate.

He'd managed to get their new television set up pretty quickly, and when he walked back downstairs to grab the sound bar and the Roku that he'd purchased to round out their new entertainment system, he'd put in an order with Luke for a couple of burgers and fries.

It had been a long day. He was more than a little bit exhausted, and the last thing that he wanted to do was cook. But, he supposed the good thing about living above a diner was that a plate of warm delicious food was only a single story away at pretty much all times. Luke had even refused to let him pay for it, an unnecessary gesture but a nice one all the same.

"Our first meal in our new home," he continued. Rory smiled up at him and grabbed the plate out of his hands, wasting no time before she grabbed a French fry and popped it into her mouth.

"Thank you," she replied. "But, you know you didn't have to put it on a plate. We could have just eaten it out of the box."

"Come on, Ace," he said, holding his plate level as he sat down next to her and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "I'm already eating a cheeseburger and fries in my pajamas on a musty old couch. I've got to maintain my dignity somehow."

"You're about to be elbow deep in poop and spit up for the foreseeable future. You have no dignity left, Huntzberger. Just surrender. Become one with the carbs and the stretchy pants."

"Speaking of…" said Logan. "Does Stars Hollow have a gym?"

"Hah," Rory replied, dipping another fry into some ketchup on her plate. "You're funny."

Logan sighed.

This was going to be an adjustment. He always knew it was going to be an adjustment, even when he'd first thought of the idea of them staying here temporarily. Logan had never lived in a small town in his entire life. Hartford wasn't exactly the biggest city in America, but it was still a major metropolitan city with all the amenities that could typically be found in such areas. New Haven was pretty similar in size. And Palo Alto, though technically a suburb, still felt like a major metro area. Then there was New York and London, and they definitely couldn't classify as small.

He was entirely unused to the idea of small town life. He supposed the only experience he really had to compare it to was Martha's Vineyard. Their house there was pretty secluded and the island was pretty limited in what it had to offer other than restaurants, gift shops, and yacht clubs. Still, there was a big difference between spending a couple of weeks at the beach house and spending a couple of months in an apartment with a new baby.

Yet, even with all that in mind, Logan still didn't regret the decision to be here. He'd stay in this apartment for the rest of his life if it meant that he didn't have to miss a second of his little girl's life.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked as he settled himself into the cushions and picked up the remote.

"Oh, it's funny you should ask my dear," said Rory. She snatched the remote out of his hand and pointed it at the television. "Because we sat down just in time for RuPaul's Drag Race."

"Oh, jeez," Logan said with a groan and a roll of his eyes as she changed the channel and an image of RuPaul walking down the runway wearing a pink mermaid dress with gold accents and a massive bow across the neckline.

"You love it. Don't even try to pretend," said Rory. "Besides, it's the finale, and I've been waiting all season for Shea Coulee to win the crown so don't ruin this for me."

Logan sighed, though he had to admit to himself that Rory had a point. As much as he claimed to hate watching this show – and most reality shows for that matter – every time Rory would put it on, he somehow always found himself getting sucked into it.

They ate their dinner and watched the show in a comfortable silence. After a long day of moving boxes and climbing stairs a quiet night in was exactly what he needed. He was so worn out that he even found himself getting sucked into what was happening on the screen in record time. He was only pulled out of it when they were nearing the end of the show Rory audibly winced.

"Ah!" she said, her hand snapping to the small of her back. Logan shot up to attention and turned to her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah… I think… I'm fine," she replied.

"You don't sound fine," he argued. "Are you sure you're not…"

Rory shook her head and awkwardly tried to stand up off the couch. Realizing that she needed his help to comfortable move, he rose himself and offered her a hand.

"It's not cramps though. It's back pain…" she said.

"Rory…" her reassurances weren't calming him the way that she clearly hoped they would.

"I'm going to call Paris," she said.

Logan watched with concern as she picked up her phone and walked toward the other side of the apartment to get away from the television. He was unable to tear his eyes way from her for a couple minutes as she paced around, pressing one hand into her back while the other held the phone up to her ear. It wasn't until her heard her sigh with relief after describing her symptoms to Paris that he was able to calm down himself.

After listening long enough to feel comfortable with the assumption that they weren't on the precipice of an emergency, Logan turned his head back to the television and Rory started to wrap up her phone call.

The final two contestants were dancing and lip-syncing up a storm, and by the looks of things Rory's favorite didn't seem to be fairing very well. Regardless, he found himself magically pulled in by what was happening on the screen. Perhaps because her opponent was pulling out a pretty enrapturing performance involving rose petals coming out of her gloves and a level of commitment to the song that made it look like the words were actually coming out of her mouth and not Whitney Houston's. It was when she pulled her wig off and rained even more rose petals all over the floor that Logan thought he might have to break the bad news to Rory. She'd be heartbroken.

"Oh my God…"

"I know," Logan responded, his eyes still glued on the television. "I'm sorry to say it, but I think Shea Coulee is going to have a hard time coming back from that."

"No…Logan…"

Fear and desperation were dripping from her tone, and Logan once again immediately tore his attention away from the screen. When he snapped his head over to her, her face looked white as a ghost and both of her hands where cradling her bump. What was the most alarming, however, was the puddle of liquid drenching her pants and the floor around her.

"My water just broke."


TBC…

AN: So, it's sort of a mix between a fun fluffy filler chapter and an important chapter. Poor Rory, this was earlier than she'd planned. And she has back labor. Give her all the love. And the drugs. And also poor Shea Coulee. Lol.

Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews!