"You can't be serious!?" Rory huffed at Logan, who'd just explained that he needed to go to London next week. And this was no quick visit - he'd been talking weeks, maybe months, trying to stay optimistic.

"I know," he sighed. He didn't want to be serious. "I'd literally do anything else if there was something else for me to do. If I don't - we'll start losing stakeholders, whoknows what will happen to our markets in Europe. I haven't been doing this for that long, I can't let it just flunk, can I? People depend on me," Logan tried to explain.

"Yes, people depend on you," Rory noted sarcastically. She depended on him.

Rory hadn't had a good day - with Emma teething and running a slight fever, the baby was restless, hungry but not hungry, hence her boobs were leaky and all she could really do was keep offering her her breasts which she more often than not latched on but then refused. For a moment that day she'd felt glad that Leigh was not dependent on her specifically - settling for anyone who held the bottle. Like her not connecting with her as much was a relief, the thought having brought on a whole other round of guilt for even thinking that. The fact that they were off their schedule was self-evident, which was a disaster waiting to happen during the night - with one of them waking the other at the wrong moment, likely taking a good week to get back on track. And all that crowded by feelings of not being a good enough mother for Finny, and now this.

"Ace, I'm sorry," he sighed, feeling defeated. Nothing was going as he'd wanted. Now Rory hated him. "I went to dad with this, do you realize how hard that was?" he attempted to explain himself, hoping to raise some empathy in her. He fluctuated between regret and frustration for her not understanding what position he was in, but he couldn't really blame her for it either - he hadn't explained in great depths and it was evident that she had a lot on her plate.

"So, what? Next you're going to say that you need to do this so Finny could take over one day?" Rory ranted, not quite thinking straight herself. She was being unfair, but she did feel betrayed. So much for doing this together! - was all that her mind kept thinking back to.

On that accusation Logan sank into the parlor couch, pressing his forehead into his palms, his arms resting on his knees. He felt too dry to cry - he just felt so tired. With Finny there had been so much more of that bliss that an expectant parent imagined - moments of watching him sleep, playing with him, enjoying the small achievements. And while there had been some, somehow this time these moments had somehow felt rushed, shadowed.

Rory just couldn't deal with him right now. The anger needed to settle, maybe sleeping on it, would help - but this all just reminded Rory too much of Mitchum to help her maintain her calm. Before she said anything else, she poutingly headed up the stairs to the bedrooms, knowing that Emma was soon going to wake, she needed to relieve some of the pressure, pump if she refused to feed again. Her head throbbed, eyes felt dry - she was feeling horrible both mentally and physically, like she might just burst right there. She had no real outlet these days - there was only so much some music could do.

Rory went to bed as soon as the babies allowed her, not caring it was just 7.30 PM. She slept for about an hour - hour and a half, waking to the sound of Logan bathing Finny in the bathroom down the hall. While she could no doubt use more sleep, the sound was actually pleasant. The gentle mumble of Logan's voice, water splattering and the occasional giggle from Finny reminded her that Logan could never truly be his father. She'd known that fifteen years ago, and she regretted how easily the physical and mental extortion had made her forget that. She just listened for a while, little by little beginning to feel the weight of her words. She just hoped Logan would come to bed when Finny fell asleep, not head downstairs to his study, thinking he wasn't welcome or worse - because he didn't want to because he was hurt.

She listened, having by now learnt each small sound the doors and floor made on that floor. She didn't know her feet could move that fast that quietly, sensing the urgency, as the topmost stair heading downstairs squeaked under his step.

"Logan," Rory whispered, noting him coming to a halt a few steps down the stairs already. "Come to bed, please," she pleaded.

Logan turned wordlessly and slowly walked upstairs, unsure if he even dared to look at her. But he didn't like the way they'd left things either. Rory could see that he's face was grim - worried, sad...defeated. She grabbed his fingers and pulled him into their bedroom, before speaking.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Rory said as she closed the door behind them, reaching out to touch his face with her palm. He leaned into her hand, her gentle touch on his skin comforting him more than anything in the past few weeks.

Logan heard her, but he too was hurt. He was scared that them fighting like this really was just the beginning of the end. They'd crossed so many obstacles together, they'd begun communicating better - but the truth was that they'd never been in a situation together that was this stressful on every level. And it wasn't like there were a lot of ways to relieve the stress right now - another nanny wasn't the solution. This was something they just needed to survive, outlive. He wanted to just lean into her, for her to hold him, make him feel like they were intact again, but he just didn't feel like he deserved it.

"I know you try. You're a great father, Logan. I was, I am tired, I wasn't thinking straight. I had no right to say what I did. I'm so sorry... We are in this together," Rory continued, feeling anxious for his lack of words. She wanted to forget, but the way Logan was reluctant against her touch made her worry - what if she'd truly hurt him? What if her words had broken them?

"I don't feel like anything I do is enough - and now this - I did deserve that. Every word of it," Logan said, feeling like he didn't deserve her touch. He was angry at himself, above all, for getting himself in that situation - if he'd only kept a closer eye on things before.

"No, Logan," she replied plainly, refusing to accept his statement. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek and temple.

She could hear him breathing shallowly, sniffle, then swallow hard. "We are doing our best," she whispered to him, unsure if she even believed that statement. It hurt to see him like this.

"I'm failing you if I go, I'm failing if I don't…," Logan exhaled.

"You fail me only if you don't come back the moment you can," Rory replied, attempting to cast some positivity on the topic with a weak smile. She was far from happy, but she did realize that he wasn't doing this to catch a break from her, from them. That was not who he was. "Maybe I'll go to Stars Hollow, stay there for a bit. I'm sure mom can help out a bit, Celeste...," she added, having just realized that maybe it was a distraction like that she too needed. She would've much rather gone there with Logan, but under the circumstances it almost felt like taking the better route in a bad situation.

He breathed in her scent, feeling incredibly grateful for her saying that. He was under no impression, that she'd just suddenly had a change of heart - but he knew she was putting up a brave face for him, so he wouldn't feel as bad, making him appreaciate her so much more.

She took it even further, knowing that what they both really needed was the outlet. In part this was an apology, comforting the broken man in front of him - boy, had he had a rough year!

Her lips brushed him a little hesitantly, slight doubt in her whether he was mentally up for this. But the way his grip around her tightened, spoke of his need for comfort just the same. The sweet and tender kiss was healing.

They both knew where this was headed, without really needing to say it - the tell-tale signs of hands caressing, tongues battling and tasting each-other's skin. Their unessential parts of their clothing were hastily discarded, not even bothering to fully undress - Rory was still self conscious - and while this was their second time since giving birth - in this situation they both knew that only thing to really help them regain their game was lube and lots of practice, taking at least part of the stress out of it.

As they reached the bed, he made his move - trailing his kisses down her neck, skipping her bra and waist and continuing at her thighs.

"Don't," Rory said, adding, "I haven't shaved," she admitted, squinting her nose, unsure if she was up for getting oral in that state. It really hadn't been her top priority. And however desperately she'd wanted to maintain some attractiveness and sexiness in their relationship - she had to admit that there were things that she'd let slip.

"I don't mind," he replied with a smirk. Sure, he preferred a little less bush, but she didn't deserve less attention because of everything she had going on either.

He continued to tease the insides of her thighs, massaging them and soon enough pulled off her panties. He focused on her clit, pulling it to his mouth with his hands around her thighs, while her fingers intertwined with his hair. His tongue flickered against her, feeling her give a slight shiver of pleasure. Swirling alternated with sucking, allowing a gentle moan to escape.

As much as Rory tried, it was difficult for her to push her thoughts far from the fact that within the next half an hour one of the twins was probably going to wake, hence she hurried him. It wasn't the sexy train of thought - but these were desperate times.

She pulled him up, kissing his lips again, tasting herself on him. There was something deeply sexy about a man from whom one never really had to ask for that, to whom it was as much about what she deserved than his pleasure.

Rory could feel his erect member resting on her abdomen, that sensation driving her insane with need. Her body wasn't quite the same, a dash of cool scentless lube that she applied herself and onto him, first feeling foreing but soon as her fingers continued to stroke him, became the norm. They both knew that things would improve with time.

He didn't waste much time - running his tip over her labia a few times, feeling her warmth. He slowly eased himself into her, while maintaining eye contact, hoping not to see her winch like last time. It seemed she was trying to relax herself and keep breathing - he knew that this meant there was some discomfort, but as she squeezed his ass in assurance, he knew that was his green light. Still - he took things slow, easing in and out of her as if leisurely rowing a boat, his lips nibbling at her neck.

Rory wrapped her legs around his waist, having warmed up a little herself, wanting more of him, not just the slow tease, craving for a release. She closed her eyes, trying to think back to one of their post-date night adventures at Logan's study, trying to think of how confident she used to feel, her mind needing to sense being that confident to really succumb to what she was feeling.

She already sensed Logan's breathing quicken, knowing well that it meant that he was close - hence in an attempt to let him know she needed a little more time, she stopped him, kissing him and allowing him to slow his pace as a result. It was a minute or so, barely moving inside of her, her feeling him throb as he did.

He couldn't wait much longer, and continued to move again, deep and deliberate thrusts soon enough catching the familiar pattern. Rory realized she needed some different kind of pressure though, adding, "I'll turn around," switching to a laying down position with her back to him. He usually liked to see more of her, but he knew this way it was easier for either of them to continue to caress her clit.

He pushed her hair aside, wanting to see at least some of her face, as he entered her, allowing some more primal form of lust to take over.

"Oh, yes, Logan," she exhaled at his thrust, clearly him having hit the right spot, making him smirk.

She continued to fondle herself, not even needing much in the form of rubbing, but just the pressure of her own fingers. There were a few times when she could already sense her high approach, but staying just out of reach, but as she felt him hurry his thrust and twitch, his lips on her shoulder turning cooler - she simply let herself go - the wave of climax washing over her almost at the same time as he came.

Logan didn't want to let go of her - as if afraid that if he did - he might lose her. The night had been frightful, full of unpleasant emotions - the guilt was still there.

"Can you forgive me - for saying those things?" Rory asked in whisper, as they laid there for a moment longer, feeling sweaty and sticky - in this context there being something rather satisfying about the sensation.

"I know you didn't mean it," Logan replied. It had stung, she of all people knew how that would stung - but he knew that she wasn't herself these days - neither was he, and hanging onto anger from something that wasn't either of them, held no purpose. But he couldn't deny that knowing that in a bad setting, with emotions boiling over, she held all the potential to truly hurt him with her words if she wanted to, hoping desparately that it would never come to it.

"I just… I don't know what came over me," Rory added apologetically.

"Me going is unfair to you, you had a right to be upset, I knew you'd be upset," Logan replied. That he did truly believe.

"God, I'm going to miss you," she clung to his neck.

"Me too," Logan murmured.