AN: The problem with this story is that sometimes - there's this one line that changes the whole chapter I planned. You might want to take a quick peek at chp. 11 for this. It all comes down to a father and son.
Your reviews are amazing as always. Thank you. I hope you all enjoyed this holiday time. Happy New Year.
Seattle
"Run this by me again," Rory asked for a repeat assessment.
The pen rotated between the doctor's long fingers. A pianist's fingers.
"It seems like the reaction to the drugs used to promote follicle growth was not sufficient. We were expecting a better response, a couple more. It's not uncommon, especially considering it is a new drug that you haven't taken before."
"You said there's two, right? Two is good; one is all we need." Rory interrupted the doctor's explanation. She aligned her eyes to the rim of the doctor's glasses. A fashionable frame surrounded his brown eyes. It suited his face perfectly, providing him the seriousness his warm features lacked.
A soft expression played on Dr. Lawson's face. "Patient wellbeing is the first priority in the medical care I provide. Performing such invasive procedure when the success rates are this low carry unnecessary risks. I don't think… my recommendation at this point is not to go through with the cycle."
Rory bit the inner side of her cheek.
Dr. Lawson was younger than Dr. Pence. His treatment approach was completely different, more open-minded, more patient-focused. He explained everything through and through, took the time to answer questions. He didn't let the same condescending chuckle escape under his breath when she elaborated on the alternative paths she and Logan explored the past few months.
Rory had liked that. A lot.
Until this very moment, when she felt her heart breaking—another failure. Another brick wall in a never-ending maze.
Logan placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. Rory shook off his hand, "And what if I want to do it?"
The doctor looked between the disheartened woman to the cool expressionist man, who sat in the next chair.
"Switching to IUI would be a safer option. Lower risks from the procedure itself, but the risk for multiple is still present. It's ultimately up to you, but… "
"Okay, let's do that." Rory decisively agreed.
The doctor shot an apprehensive look towards Logan. This male comradeship aggravated her.
"Actually, can we have a moment?"
For the first time since the doctor relayed his diagnosis Logan had voiced his presence.
"Of course. It best for you to talk it over." The man in the white coat nodded at Logan before raising from his chair. "I'll be back in a few."
"Thank you." As Logan put his Hartford upbringing to good use, Rory silently seethed in her seat. Her fingers gripped tightly onto the extensive medical file in her hand.
"What the hell…?" Rory turned to him as soon as the door closed behind the doctor's back, leaving them completely alone in the room.
Logan's hand forced her knee to stop its aggravated quiver. His palm gently cupped her nylon covered knee, "Let's not rush into this."
Rory simply gaped at him. Let's not rush into this? No one was more enthusiastic about producing a baby than Logan. He was the one to advocate going back to the clinical path. This change of heart was unnerving.
"Who are you? and what have you done to the Logan I know?"
Logan just sighed heavily. Rory kept staring at him expectedly.
"We've done IUI before. Six times." Logan said, leaving the apparent outcomes wordless.
"Are you listening to yourself? I just kneeled on the floor in that room, giving you a blowj… And now you want to throw it all away?" Rory's face flushed with embarrassment despite her temper.
Logan forced himself to hide a sly smile. Rory's inability to talk dirty out of context was highly amusing. He liked the playfulness of having her with him in the sample room. It was hot. He had to stop himself from ejaculating too soon.
It was hands down the most enjoyable sperm depositing he ever experienced.
"It's just sperm in a plastic cup, Rory. They can store it. And there's more where it came from." Logan held her eye seriously, "Listen…"
"Don't. Don't Huntzberger me." Rory interrupted him. She was not going to let him Huntzberger her out of her instinct. There's no way they're missing yet another opportunity. "We said we're doing it, so we're doing it."
Logan squeezed her knee, "I don't want to set us up for a nearly certain disappointment right off the bat. Let's be rational for a moment. The statistics are not good. Let's sit this one out."
"One is all we need."
"In theory." Logan logically answered, "We're not new to this. You know it takes a little more than positive thinking. It requires more than just to spice it up in the bedroom or joyfully greet the sun to open your chakras."
"Don't mock it. You may think it's ridiculous, but at least what you think is mamo-jumbo directs what you can do instead of what you can't do." Her eyes were shining with tears of anger, "It's will be different this time."
"How?" Logan edged in his seat closer to her. His right hand moved to cradle her cheek. The other kept rubbing circles on her knee.
"You'll be in the room," Rory said quietly.
Logan's serious expression softened for a beat. Sharing every aspect of the process was new for them.
"God, I love you." His thumb brushed the side of her face, "But let's do the math. The timing of the trigger shot will fall on California; the logistics will be excruciating. It will leave us a very limited time window… We don't have to decide right this second."
"What?" Rory felt like her heart just codded. Did he just tell her he loved her and breezed straight through to talking about California and logistics? As if the first part of the sentence never came out of this mouth. As if it wasn't a big deal, as if it was just another casual admission.
That had Rory seeing red. Who cared about California? "What's so important about California anyway?"
Something about her upcoming trip to California sent Logan into a weird funk. He's been at it for days. Yesterday he stayed up all night studying the west coast roadmap that materialized out of nowhere.
"I have some loose ends that need to be tied down there," Logan answered vaguely, threading carefully through the conversation. "Let's sit down properly and talk about it tonight. Make a pro-con list."
"Don't mock the pro-con list." Rory was on the verge of offended.
"I'm not mocking it; I actually think it'll come out in my favor."
The doctor returned before she could formulate any coherent response.
"I'm sorry guys, I know you might need more time. I brought some pamphlets with more information. We can schedule a follow-up in a few days to discuss your decision."
"Sure." Logan was quick to reassure, holding out his hand to accept the pamphlets.
"I want a second opinion," Rory announced dramatically. As she stood, her arms tried to grab the folder, the camera, and her coat simultaneously. She was miserably failing to do any of it gracefully.
"Absolutely! I can recommend…" Dr. Lawson hurried to offer his assistance, but Rory looked at Logan.
"Now would be a good time to throw your name and flash your checkbook around."
~W~
New York
"Rory Gilmore."
Rory's eyes snapped open at the male's voice stating her name. Her eyes wandered around unfocused for a minute, panicked. She can't believe she had fallen asleep. She only closed them for a brief moment, trying to block out the curious stares from her cell companions.
How long was she asleep for? How long was she in this cell?
She can't believe she got arrested.
No. She can. She had no doubt in her mind this would happen.
xx
"We will get arrested." Rory tapped her foot nervously, rubbing her hand together, trying to fight the cold. She had forgotten how cold East Coast January was.
"That's half the fun." The hairpin jiggled in the lock under his hands, "And we wouldn't get arrested, a warning at best. We're only borrowing two pair of skates."
"You've done this before." She determined.
Logan grinned in triumph as the lock clicked open, "First time with you."
Another first.
She couldn't resist his smile, the twinkle in his eye. The offer of a wrinkle in time in this awful awful day. The magical view of the Rockefeller Center ice rink solely at their illegal disposal. Taken right out from a Nora Ephron movie.
"Come on, Ace." He grabbed her hand, "Something stupid, something bad for you."
Damn, life with him was exciting.
Light snowflakes started to fall. Just when Rory didn't want to be reminded of her mother. Well, what is yet another thing her mother disapproved of in the grand scheme of things?
xx
"Miss." The voice called again, "Your bail has been paid. Are you coming or what?"
The door buzzed, letting her out. A different officer handed her a paper bag full of her wearable items and her camera. She took her time examining her precious commodity for unfamiliar scratches. Behind the second door, Logan rose from the plastic seat at the sight of her.
"You're okay?" He asked worriedly.
Rory could tell he was trying to assess how shaken she was. Logan Huntzberger had undoubtedly taken her virginity of everything illegal. Joint smoking, breaking and entering, sex in public escapades, and jail time.
"I made friends for life." She answered dryly at which rewarded her with a small smile.
"Good. Good. It's less scary the second time." His hand rubbed on the side of his arm. "They're not pressing charges, don't worry. It's taken care of."
And efficient. Logan was exceptionally efficient at taking care of things.
"Where's Colin?" Rory questioned, her eyes searching for the lawyer. She should at least thank him for the hassle. Who else would Logan call at this time at night to pay up their bail?
"Logan." A deep voice boomed behind his back; Rory was a little startled to find Mitchum Huntzberger's solid frame. He had appeared out of nowhere, his suit intact, his face serious. "A word."
"I'll only take a minute. Then we'll head home." Logan reassured her before turning to follow his father's heels to a quieter corner.
Xx
"Thanks for doing this, dad." Rubbed his hands together, shooting yet another worried glance Rory's way, "Can you keep it out of the papers?"
"I need more than a 'thank you, dad.' Explain." Mitchum's jaw clenched in the same stubborn manner Logan's jaw locked when displeased, "Explain to me why I get a call at two AM asking me to come bail out my thirty years old son for bribing cops for the sake of a pair of skates."
"It's personal." Logan simply answered, rocking on his heels, pushing his hands into his pocket. He didn't want to tell him.
Mitchum sighed, barely holding himself from shaking his head in despair.
Thirty years old or not, after this rollercoaster of a day, he felt a weird sense of comfort at this fatherly bashing. For the first time today, Logan didn't feel out of his depth. This has been their dynamic for so long until he and his friends were old enough to bail each other out. Maybe he should have called Colin.
"If you want to draw less attention to yourself, Logan, committing a felony in one of the most policed centers in New York City is not the way to go."
Logan's averted his face from his father's penetrating gaze, "Three different doctors have just told us to sit this cycle out. It's been an emotional day. I just wanted to see her smile."
And she had. Her surprised laugher as he easily spun on her on the blades, and she nearly lost her balance still rang out in his ears.
His name didn't say much in Seattle, but it did have the necessary impact to score second opinion appointments with two of New York's top experts. Rory had not uttered a word about the private plane or objected to the nepotism to his surprise.
His son. The reckless romantic. Mitchum Huntzberger didn't know where he got it from. Not from his side of the family, for sure. The older man looked over his son's shoulder at the brunette woman who tried her best to look everywhere but at them.
The spontaneous hug his father initiated surprised them both. The familiar click of the shutter tickled Logan's sensitive ear.
Damn her for documenting this.
"Dad." Logan hissed awkwardly. His arms hanged limp at his sides; his shoulders tensed in the space between the older man's arms. A hug he got eighteen years in delay. The hug he never got.
Logan abruptly pulled away.
"Alright. Alright." Mitchum smoothed invisible wrinkles in his suits. As if washing all evidence. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Logan unconsciously copied his father's motions.
"Logan. May I suggest something controversial?" Mitchum articulated carefully, sending a scouting glance his son's way, "Maybe you should stop trying."
Logan's jaw hardened; Mitchum could see his son's argumentative side starting to poke out. But instead, all that happened was Logan's mouth opening and closing, unable to utter a word.
"Well, it worked with you."
~W~
"Where…?" Rory drawled drowsy as he moved.
Slow comfort kisses turned into tender stroking; stroking turned into hesitated groping. Soon enough, they were desperately seeking skin to skin contact. Logan wasn't sure if it was the smartest thing to do. But they both needed to decompress from this emotionally draining day.
Rory had drifted asleep quickly while he played with her hair, lost in thoughts. Now, sleep evaded him. Like he knew it would. His father's words left him on edge. Hunting every corner of his brain, like the New York lights that played shadows on the cream walls of the bedroom he rarely occupied.
Should they? This limbo was driving them both mad.
"I need to make a phone call."
"Tell Ben; I say hi," Rory murmured into the pillows, claiming the middle section of the bed with a sigh.
Xx
"I'm going to kill you for making me sleep on the couch." Ben's groggy voice picked up only a few short rings after. His friend was waiting for his call. "Parker sent his comments on the contract. Did you go through it?"
"Not yet. Just about to." Logan rubbed his face. He might as well make himself useful. He contemplated whether to take his sleeping pills for a while earlier but decided against it, given the time. It was already four in the morning. Sleeping through the day would mess up his sleep cycle even more.
"Does she know yet?" Ben's voice counited to inquire. Ever since Logan relayed his California plan, Ben has been pushy. Like a buzzing mosquito in Logan's ear.
"Which she?"
"Ah. Good question," Ben commented, waiting on his friend to answer his own question.
"She knows I'm not bringing you. Chelsea's smart enough to do the two plus two."
"And Rory?" The delay in response seemed to give Logan's business partner the answer -"Logan."
"Ben." Logan mimicked his friend's disapproving tone. He could tell the exact expression on the other man's face without actually seeing it. "I will; it had not been the best day to tell her."
"How did it go?"
"Not well." Logan didn't need to say more.
A stretched beat of hollow static filled the long-distance call. "You okay?"
"The longer it takes, the longer Seattle last." Logan asked for some reassurance, "Right?"
~w~
California
"Powder or no powder?" Kim Pearson Morgan asked as she expertly whisked the eggs and sugar in the mixing ball.
"Powder!" Chelsea said decisively. "It's my sobriety party; sugar powder is a must."
"Your sense of humor is atrocious," Colin commented, chewing on a bowl of cereal by the breakfast bar. The Pilates session unfolding on the lawn outside the Kitchen's floor to top windows took up most of his attention.
"It's called irony, Colin."
"People might get the wrong message about it." Kim agreed with Colin. She wished Finn would hurry back already. The dynamic between the duo was, for lack of a better word, prickly. It had driven the pastry chef to the comfort of baking. Plus, The fully stocked vegan pantry posed a challenge.
"People can take whatever message they want. Worrying about what people might think is bad for your complexion." Chelsea quickly dismissed the concern and turned back to the lawyer, pursuing a more pressing topic. "What she's like?"
"She's pretty," Colin responded distractedly. "You say this happens every day?"
"Sometimes, three times a day. Just wait till they try and reach their toes."
"I'm considering moving in." His head tilted to the right, in a direct imitation of the stretching bodies outside.
Around the exercising group in the back yard, the preparations for the party were in full swing. Men were busy stretching fairy light lines, warming lumps, and assembling the enormous fish-net circus tent Chelsea planned to cover with a thousand colorful umbrellas.
"She's pretty? That's it? That's all you've got?" Chelsea tried to fish more information out of the lawyer, who remained unfazed, "Surely, you have met her enough times to have something more to say."
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."
"And he talks about her, right? I know he talks to my dad about her. Every time I enter the room and they go silent, I just know."
"He's skimpy on the details." Colin reluctantly advertised. He immediately regretted it. Revealing these little tidbits of information seemed to fuel Chelsea's curiosity.
"So. I speak fluent Logan. Tell me." Chelsea demanded, "It's my duty as the chairman of the LH fan club to make sure that…"
"I believe your membership has been revoked."
"It never ceases to amaze me how much nicer you are when you're getting laid, Colin. You struck out with Steph again, huh? That's why she's not coming?" Chelsea's tongue clicked venomously at the lawyer. "What did you do this time? Cheat?"
"Takes one to know one." Colin chewed out the words, "Green's not a good color on you, Chelsea. That's all you're gonna get."
"What's her last name? Where did he meet her? How long? Tell me something other than she's pretty."
"Who's pretty?" Finn strolled into the Kitchen carrying a box of beer in his arms.
"Colin thinks Logan's girl is pretty."
"Who - Rory? Sure. My god, those Gilmore girls have good genes. What's cooking?" Finn pressed a kiss on his wife's cheek. She looked out of her depth.
"Brownies." The pastry chef quipped shortly.
"Funny Brownies?"
"That's a terrible idea." Colin objected from his spot.
"Shut up, Colin. That's a great idea!" Chelsea's blue eyes twinkled with mischief; she had an in. She had a name. Rory Gilmore. That had a familiar ring to it. "So, Finny…"
"Oh no," Finn hurried to protest, turning to put the beers away in the fridge, "You're not getting anything for me. I've learned my lesson. I'm pleading the fifth because my wife is in the room, and her mother is my business partner, and I get enough grief as it is."
"Who? Lorelai from that moldy run-down mall?"
"That moldy run-down mall has saved your life and won you a prestigious design award." Finn reminded her. "You owe me big, you crackpot."
"You are my hero." Chelsea sing-songed, beaming at Australian. That seemed to appease him.
"Don't you forget it."
"So, you introduced them?" Finn was always an easier target than Colin. Colin's sense of loyalty was only a notch down from Ben's.
"Hell no. Logan has already dipped his hand in the cookie jar by the time I found them all over each other at Pyramid." Finn happily chattered, cracking one of the beers open. "He was just keeping it quiet because she worked ad at Current, and he was scared of Ben castrating him."
Colin groaned. Finn coughed on the first sip of the bottle, his words catching up with his mind. Kim looked at her husband sympathetically – Finn blessed his heart, just walked into it blissfully unaware.
"Huh? Well, Logan was always a lot more like Mitchum than he'd ever like to admit." Chelsea's face struggled to remain passive. Her voice laced with disbelieve, "She works at Current, and Ben's fine with it?"
Ben never spared voicing his disapproval. Chelsea hated Logan's Jimmy Cricket friend with passion. The feeling was mutual.
"Pfft, you know, Ben. He doesn't shy from voicing his thoughts on the things he deems bad. But Logan can be quite persistent when he set his mind on something. She doesn't work for Current anymore. She's some kind of a photographer now, right, Love?" Finn looked at his wife for confirmation.
"God, stop talking," Colin grumbled under his breath.
Finn clapped his hand over his mouth.
"Logan always liked them artistic."
"Stop looking at me like that, Colin. Logan and I are good. We have cleared the air. He's bringing his... whatever... along." Chelsea's face struggled to remain passive. "I'm just naturally curious."
"No, you're not. You just can't stand the thought of him with someone else, do you?"
A mix of unclear emotions played on her face. "I'm going to see where Tammi stashed the fun ingredients."
Chelsea moved from her spot alongside the baker faster than a spooked gazelle.
"She's not serious, is she? It's her sobriety party." Kim looked at her husband with alarm.
"Was that really necessary? She's just nervous." Finn sighed at Colin. "People change."
"People don't change that much. What time is it?" Colin asked.
"It's crying time," Finn answered dryly.
Colin looked at the clocked hanging on the kitchen wall; its digits still indicated pre-noon, "Get me a beer, Finn. I didn't drink enough for this shit. You better hope she sobers up before he gets here."
"It's just weed, Colin."
"It's never just weed."
~w~
"Wow!" Rory nearly stumbled over herself, stepping out of the car. The house Logan parked the SUV in front of was magnificent. It looked like it was floating off the air; the California diminishing light reflected its oversized windows. "This house is amazing! How did you find this place?"
"Where are my keys? What did I do with my keys?" Logan sounded disoriented on the other side of the car.
Rory ignored him, more taken with the task of taking pictures. Rory never found much interest in still objects, but the house had character - it looked ready for anything.
"Got them." Logan walked around the car to meet her.
"This is where we're staying?"
Rory drank the scenery with her eyes. Appreciating the way the house's smooth lines dissolved into the landscape. The sophisticated way the color scheme of the outside played with a glimpse of the inside. The design blended with the outside, inviting you in.
"It is." Logan slurred slowly.
"You've been here before."
"Yes. But first time with you."
Rory detected the hint of nervousness crept into his voice. She lowered her camera, catching his somehow frazzled expression, "You look nervous."
"Do I?" The hand holding the keys disappeared into his pocket, "Ah, I'm just not sure what I got you into."
"What do you mean?" She gripped her camera; an alarming worry stirred in her stomach.
This was unusual. Logan always opts to the 'just go with it' attitude. Logan never saw the need to prep and warn her before entering a room. He hadn't done it in New York when he took her to his father's birthday party. The identity of his London friends remained unrevealed until the very moment Rory shook hands with them.
Something was different. Something related to this place, this house. The whole California trip was suspicious, to begin with.
"We're meeting certain people here..."
Or these people.
"Yes, your group of college friends, you said so."
"Maybe I didn't prep you well enough… some of them can be a little intense, vicious…" He ran his hand through his hair worriedly; he doesn't quite know how to finish his sentence, "and loose-lipped when drunk…"
"Yes. I have already met Colin." Rory smiled slightly, amused, "Relax, you don't have to worry about me; I went to Yale. I know these people. Years and years of Friday night dinners have prepared me for any uncomfortable situation ever invented!"
"Really?" Logan looked half skeptical, half entertained by her answer. He reached out his hand to touch her elbow, trying to coax her closer.
"Did I tell you about the time my mom…" Rory started to embark on a tale just as the front door of the house flew open.
"Husband!"
Rory's head turned sharply from Logan towards the voice.
The blonde woman's feet went flying down the stairs as if the wind carried her—the soft fabric of her tight hugging maxi dress swooshed around her ankles as she flanged her arms around Logan's neck.
Rory looked at the pair through the camera lens. She had captured every movement, from the widened grin on Chelsea's face when she appeared at the top of the stairs, her magical descent towards them, and the way she collided into him with such natural familiarity.
"Chelsea, you're choking me." Logan cracked a complaint as he remained in her embrace, practically swallowed in the sea of the sunflower print.
"I'm so happy you came! Gosh! You're just as handsome as always. You age well - you bastard." Chelsea pulled back, affectionally patting his cheeks, and quickly pecked his lips soundly. Twice.
Rory felt an uncomfortable lump in her throat. A painful fire stirred in her stomach.
She kissed him.
No Friday night dinner could prep her for that.
"You saw me last three months ago." Logan's wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
A big smile spread widely on Chelsea's heart-shaped face.
"I wanted you here for this so badly! Okay, now I can breathe and focus on… " Chelsea turned from him, clapping her hands excitedly. "You!"
Chelsea Rosen reminds Rory of Reese Witherspoon. Her blonde hair, her heart-shaped face, her bright blue eyes. Her hand still rested on Logan's upper arm. As if she was stating her claim on him. The careful fitting of her dress indicated Chelsea Rosen dressed to impress.
Rory felt undressed in her casual white t-shirt and jeans.
"My god! You are pretty! I thought Colin was exaggerating." The blonde ex-wife gave her the once over and punched Logan's shoulder hard. "You snake, you never breathed a word. This one keeps the cards close to the heart."
Rory forced a smile. Under her narrow eye, Logan slowly distanced himself from his ex-wife.
"He sure is the secretive kind." Rory agreed through her teeth. Her grip on the camera is turning her knuckles white.
"He's the worst!" Chelsea Rose laughed, holding out her hand for a shake, "I'm so sorry, I didn't properly introduce myself; I'm Chelsea Rose. Rory, isn't it?"
"Yes," Rory confirmed coolly and kept hands firmly glued to the camera. If this wasn't an appropriate time to take a page out of Emily Gilmore's playbook, when was it?
Chelsea's smiled flattened. Her hand dropped to her side when the handshake never materialized.
"Where's Tammi?" Logan jumped in quick enough to cut the tense moment short.
"She's wrapping up the late Pilates session in the studio. Which is just as well, because I don't know if Finn told you, but... We're recreating the super stunt!" Chelsea's interest in Rory faded at once. She looked gleeful in the same way Logan would when he got incredibly excited about something. Her rant ended with a roll of eyes. "Tammi is convinced someone is gonna fall, break their neck, and die!"
"We're not gonna die! No one in the Life and Death Brigade has ever died. Only the old ones had." Logan's expression wore a matching playfulness, watching Rory from the corner of his eye, "Every potato came through without a scratch."
Rory had no idea what they are talking about. Their banter moved quickly.
"That's what I told her! Come check it out! We plan to jump from the roof right into the pool." Chelsea pulled on his hand, excited.
Logan's feet stayed rooted in the ground. "In a minute."
"Oh right," Chelsea said dumbly, her hand falling to her side. Whatever moment they were having was broken at the unspoken reminder of Rory's presence. "I better get back to check Finn didn't drink us dry. You know your way around."
"I do." Logan nodded, saying nothing back. His hands found their ways into his jeans pockets.
"So glad you're here." Chelsea squeezed his arm one last time before her sunflower clad figure retreated up the stairs.
Rory stood static in her spot, waited for the other woman to be out of ear-sight, struggling to keep her face passive. "She's eccentric."
"Yes," Logan breathed tensely, "Chelsea is that."
Chelsea's over the top mannerism shone for miles. He knew her like the back of her hand - she did that on propose. It was intimidating.
"I want to go home."
"No one's going home." Logan grabbed Rory's hand just before she reached the car door. He skillfully turned her around, trapping her against the car with his body. The camera poked a barrier preventing him from coming any closer. "If you go home, you miss Sundance."
Rory narrowed her eye at him. How dare he wave that in front of her face? Sundance is the primary reason for Rory to come to California. The original plan was to fly out with Chip and crew as they had previously gone to Tornoto's TIFF in September.
Logan was the one to crush her plans with the idea of a road trip. Honey trapping her with the prospect of a carefree vacation and having his undivided attention for a few days. Which he mostly delivered apart from a few sporadic phone calls with Ben.
"You kissed her." Rory spat her words in anger, "On the lips."
"I didn't kiss her." Logan pushed the camera out of the way, pressing his body closer.
"Is that a regular thing? Is that what you do when you see your ex-wife in New York?" Rory tried to wiggle away from his hold. She failed; Logan was more muscular.
"We mostly talk about cancer cells when in New York." His thump stroked the side of her face. His face slowly leaned down to hers.
Rory bit his lip just before he completely dived into her. "You're not kissing me with that mouth."
"You're so sexy when you're mad." His cool lips left a slow hot kiss on the spot under her ear instead. Another followed. His right hand forced her fist open, entwining their fingers tightly. Logan consistently played the physical card to mellow her, or when he was apologizing.
"Don't do that." Rory protested meekly, pushing his chest back. He resisted. "You don't just say sorry without saying sorry, and we're cool. It doesn't work like that."
She will not let him off the hook for blindsiding her with the presence of his ex-wife.
"I know. I thought this was the best way to handle this. I was wrong. You can be mad at me later until you're blue in the face, okay?" His left hand cupped her face, "But, Rory, here's what is going to happen. We go in there, with the biggest smiles on our faces, because if we don't - she's won." Logan stated, determined, "And I have no intention of letting her win."
Rory had connected all the dots. The house suddenly looked a lot less appealing now that she knew what lies on the other side of the door. She couldn't walk into the house he used to share with her.
"I.."
"I need my Ace of spades." A sheepish smile played on his face. Damn him. A soft squeeze on her hand followed before he pulled away, dragging her along with him. "Come on; I guarantee it'll be fun."
"Logan. Wait," Rory grabbed tightly onto his hand. The string of her kite. "I can't go in there."
"If I can, then you can."
